#so i'm sure i'm also driving him a little crazy and also that none of this is malicious

[benoitblanc]

sigh. you know when you love your best friend more than anything but still really really want to bash their head in a little

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ I like(?) Haechan ⋆⭒˚.⋆

summary: you and Haechan are too close and Jaehyun finally admits that he’s just a tiny bit jealous

(cw: f!reader, cursing, alcohol consumption, relationship insecurities)

Fratboy!Jaehyun never in his life ever thought that there would even be the fraction of a chance that there would ever be the possibility that he would ever- not in this life, or the next, or even his past lives- that he would EVER be jealous of Lee Haechan. But as he stood in Haechan's doorway, staring at his girlfriend, his fucking sweetheart in Haechan's bed, he started to think that the green eyed monster had finally successfully possessed him.

It hadn't started off like this and he can admit that this situation he's glaring at half asleep is all his fault, but there are events that led up to this envious possession.

The first time he had felt a little weird about you and Haechan was the first time you came over as his official girlfriend and immediately came in to hug Haechan before you even hugged Jaehyun, you know, your boyfriend. You had a bright, excited smile as you ran right past Taeyong, who had so kindly answered the door, and pulled Haechan into your embrace. Jaehyun shook it off because as soon as you were done with Haechan you were in Jaehyun's lap covering his face with kisses.

Then there was a party that had gone on far too long. Yes, Jaehyun is proud, they partied until like 5 in the morning, like, fuck, come on! That was a frat record! And sure yes, Jaehyun had been a little drunk (very drunk) (totally Johnny's fault) when he looked over and saw you, all buzzed and tired and cuddly on the couch, tilting over sleepily until your head was resting on Haechan's shoulder. Haechan didn't flinch, didn't act surprised, simply laid his head on top of yours and fell asleep too.

Then it just seemed to be a lot of little instances that jumped out in Jaehyun's mind now at 2 in the morning. Now, he's starting to hate the way that Haechan only posts a story for Jaehyun's birthday, but you get a post on the grid and multiple stories throughout the year? Jaehyun hates the way that you and Haechan have inside jokes and refuse to explain them to him.

And right now he fucking abhors that you are sleeping in Haechan's bed! Like ok, yes, Jaehyun did take a couple gummy melatonin vitamins so he was sleeping extra deeply, and yes, he did accidentally kick you off the bed shortly after he accidentally elbowed you in the nose, but did you have to go to Haechan's room? Well, not only that but also sleep in his bed-- with him there?!

Jaehyun trudged over to the bed and begins to shake you like there's a fire in the house and you need to wake up now! You wake up with a gasp, eyes flying open while you look around for the disaster. Instead, you find Jaehyun standing there with a frown on his face and his arms crossed.

"What's happening?" You ask in that cute, groggy voice of yours.

"You're not in my bed."

"Baby," you sigh, laying down again, "you elbowed me in the nose and kicked me off the bed. I'm tired and I want to sleep."

"You're sleeping with Haechan."

"I'm sleeping next to him. He runs hot and I have my warm pajamas on tonight."

Jaehyun hates that you know Haechan runs hot when he sleeps. Jaehyun groans under his breath and tugs on your hand, "come back to bed."

"Fine, but if you kick me off the bed again, I'm not going to anyone else's room, I'm going home," you huff as you throw the covers off. Haechan remains deeply asleep, none the wiser to what's happening around him.

Back in Jaehyun's bed, he has you embraced so tightly against his chest that your ear is starting to hurt against his muscular chest. The house is silent, probably as quiet as you've ever heard it, but you can practically hear the cogs in his brain whirring and it's driving you crazy. "What's wrong?" you ask softly.

Jaehyun wants to say how well you know him, but in reality, it's one of the things he loves most about you. "I don't want this to become anything bigger than it is, but... god! I think--I think I'm jealous of Haechan," Jaehyun shyly breathes out. Great, it's out there, one of his biggest insecurities is out in the universe.

You pop your head up, your chin resting on his chest as you look into his eyes with a cute furrow of your brow, "Jealous of Haechan?"

Jaehyun runs a hand down his face, how can he best say this? How can he phrase this so he doesn't sound like an insecure, jealous little boy? "Maybe... I'm just jealous of how-- how close the two of you are. I just-- all the little things you guys do with each other like throw me off. Like posting each other all the time, sharing a bed, falling asleep on each other and he cuddles you! You kiss his cheeks and he tells you things he would never tell me!"

Your thumb rubs away at the line between his brows with a soft gentleness that immediately has Jaehyun calming down. He loves the way you know him. You smile at him softly, "I want you to know that there is no way Haechan would ever come between the two of us, ever. I have a soft spot for him, yeah. In some ways he's like a younger brother and in other ways he's one of my girlfriends. What I do with him isn't anything I wouldn't do with Ari or Kira. He's even told me I've gotten too comfortable talking about my periods with him, he hates that."

Jaehyun laughs softly at that and you smile back, continuing, "I think, maybe... just maybe... you might be a little jealous that Haechan isn't as open with you?"

Jaehyun guffaws, his mouth literally drops open, "I don't want that little shit bag close to me in any way! Having him in the same frat is already too close!"

"Think about it, baby, you don't have siblings, but you have your brothers here. Haechan is about as 'younger brother' as they come and you're getting the full experience. I think that you're maybe feeling a little hurt or frustrated that you don't have as deep a connection with him as you'd like. Which I totally get, he grows on you kind of like eczema, so annoying at first and then you just grow to get used to it and handle it the best way you've learned," you explain, ending it all with a yawn.

Again, deep, deep, deep, deep... deep down Jaehyun knows you're right. You know him probably better than anyone on the face of the planet. Right now, he's not ready to admit that he wants to treat Haechan like a real brother.

"I kind of hate when you use your three semesters of psychology on me," Jaehyun tells you, rubbing a lulling hand up and down your back.

"It has to pay off somehow, right? But hey, your secret is safe with me."

"Yeah, I think I'd rather rush Alpha Sig than ever admit I want to be close with... gah! I can't even say it!" Jaehyun exclaims with an over exaggerated shudder.

"Be nice, you love him a little bit," you respond as your eyes finally start falling shut again.

"Like him a little bit, more like,"Jaehyun grumbles before closing his own eyes with the hope that when he wakes up this will all be a nightmare.

[polarisjisung]

ꨄ LOVE IS SUPER SWEET SWEET SWEET SWEET IN MY MOUTH

PETNAMES NCT DREAM WOULD USE

pairings: nct dream x fem!reader genre: fluff wc: 0.7k warnings: hopefully none notes: this is a little shorter than usual but if you couldn't tell already I'm a sucker for petnames (if you think they're cringy you're just painfully single 😤) so I HAD to make this

MARK — my girl/babe

now mark's a chill laid back guy, and he loves you like crazy but he also doesn't see any need in extravagant nicknames or petnames and he sticks to the classics, he probably won't address you by your name for the most part so he'll just stick to babe. sweet and simple

"that's my girl" is such a classic mark thing, he gets proud over the smallest things you do, he's like your personal cheerleader. It could be something so small as flipping an egg without breaking the yolk and mark would be ecstatic.

RENJUN — darling

nicknames are serious business for renjun, every now and then he'll call you babe but to him it feels too casual— most likely it'll be something very specific to your relationship and how you met but if not he loves darling, it feels the most endearing to him.

JENO — baby/angel/gorgeous

for the most part jeno will stick to baby, sometimes babe but in his softest moments he'll go for angel— it's unconscious really.

but to jeno you're the best thing that's ever happened to him, like his own personal angel— somehow you always know what to do/say when he's feeling down and he's never met someone like that before. you're unique and somehow everything you do feels perfect to jeno, he thinks your soul is so pure, you're his angel.

on occasion jeno will throw a quick but calculated "good morning gorgeous" your way— mainly because it has you absolutely falling apart to the point where you can't even form coherent sentences, but jeno thinks it's cute

HAECHAN — sunshine/sunflower/honey

you bring out the best in him, you're his motivation and you give him so much energy for performances and his idol life, especially when things get tough so calling you his sunshine just feels right to haechan.

haechan probably throws around a lot of nicknames with you, sometimes some a little too weird, but he knows it'll get you smiling

"hey snookums" he'd say casually as he enters the room

"are you talking to me hyuck?"

he'd nod eagerly and you can't help but giggle at his dorky smile

"I love you but please, never call me that again" best believe he'll stick to that nickname for the rest of the week

and of course every time he steps through the door, haechan has to announce "honey, I'm home" like hes in some american sitcom, as if you didn't see him pull up in the drive and hear his keys jingle as he unlocked the door— you love him either way

JAEMIN — princess/pretty

sure jaemin thinks he's a princess but you? you're like the princess of all princesses. plus jaemin feels the need to remind you of your worth day in and day out— you're a princess and so you deserve to be treated like one, given jaemin's practically a king at princess treatment, you'd consider it appropriate

jaemin thinks you're pretty no doubt. in some moments, especially when you don't quite share the same opinion, jaemin will be the first one to remind you, and if you're feeling down "hey pretty look at me" he'd say in that soft low tone of his that's so awfully comforting, with two hands on your shoulder before giving you the pep talk of a lifetime

CHENLE — babe/baby

chenle's not much of a petnames guy aside from a casual babe/baby here and there but you suppose that's what makes it all the more special when he does use them

he much prefers to have a nickname for you that's exclusive to him than using petnames, but if its something you're into he'll definitely try and step up his game, also if he gets teased by his members for calling you by your name

a jealous chenle uses all the petnames under the sun— anything to make it clear you're his girl

JISUNG — (my) love/beautiful

jisung is usually soft spoken but too shy to throw around "I love/like you's" without becoming a blushing mess so his favourite way to subtly remind you just how much you mean to him are through petnames. he truly thinks you're beautiful inside and out, so it's one of the first names he addresses you with.

he likes to switch it up, testing and seeing which ones your smile grows the widest at. he decides love feels right. after all, you were the person who taught him all about it.

[100vern]

the great british fake-off | xmh

you thought the guy in the hawaiian-print shirt who seems physically incapable of being quiet would be the most annoying person here, so imagine your shock when it's xu minghao, who has seemingly decided you're the enemy and keeps sabotaging you. a baking competition for charity might have others on their best behavior, but what's a little sugar without some spice?

❆ pairing: minghao x reader ❆ genre: great british bake-off, holiday au; crack, fluff ❆ wordcount: 5.5k ❆ rating: e for everyone ❆ warnings: some swearing, minghao is a saboteur, idiots abound. ❆ credits: this netflix psd template for the banner. this recipe for the yule log; this recipe for the gingerbread house; and this recipe for the entremet. divider from here. this post for the divider. this was roughly edited by me, so any and all mistakes are my own. ❆ written for: the winter with you collab hosted by @camandemstudios. thank you for letting me participate! please make sure to check out the rest of the stories as they're posted. ♡ ❆ author's note: i had this rotting away in my wips since literally 2021, so even though it started as a completely different story, i'm so glad it's finally seeing the light of day even if it's not what i originally intended. (also, i know the banner says 12 contestants but the holiday specials only had a couple, okay. i forgot when i made it and i wasn't going back to fix it.)

The obnoxious one is wearing an aloha-print shirt.

He’s also extremely loud, his raucous, fake laughter filling every corner of the large warehouse you’ve been assigned to for filming. Makes a show of batting his eyelashes, throwing his head back every time someone cracks a joke that’s not even funny, comes up with nonsensical nicknames for the entire crew just to suck up to them.

“John Davies? Mind if I call you Joe?”

Joe doesn’t even make sense as a nickname for John, but John fucking loves it, apparently. Looks at the annoying guy like he just watched him string the stars in the sky.

But it’s the shirt—god, the shirt drives you absolutely crazy. He’s about to go on national television, be a household name, and some ill-fitting, charity shop Hawaiian print shirt is what he woke up and chose to wear. What’s his angle here? Appeal to the public with some sob story about only being able to afford second-hand clothes so that’s why he’s competing? Needs the money to care for a sick relative?

(The expensive watch on his wrist and his limited-drop sneakers tell an entirely different story, but you’re keeping that to yourself for now. No reason to play your hand so early.)

As much as you hate the shirt, you have to admit it suits him. The colors are garish and unsightly, just as obnoxious as he is, and you can’t stare at it too long because you start going cross-eyed. Looking at him feels about the same as stuffing your mouth with a bunch of sour candies: you get that same burn in the back of your jaw, same scrunched-up, grossed-out look on your face; have to squeeze your eyes shut to blink back tears.

You don’t even know his name, but you hate him immediately.

Your eyes scan the other contestants. None of them inspire the same level of animosity within you as the annoying one does; all of them nearly unremarkable. A variety of ages, appearances, backgrounds. You hear one say they’re a retired investment banker. There’s an accountant, a teacher, a fucking aerospace engineer.

And then it’s his turn to introduce himself. He clears his throat, speaks with an easy, practiced confidence. Completely void of nerves. Makes eye contact with everyone in your conversation circle. Gesticulates wildly as he speaks, immediately endears everyone to him.

“I’m Tim,” he says, and you nearly recoil at how honeyed his voice is. “But you can call me Tim. I’m thirty-eight, originally from a small town. Work as a…”

You can barely stand to listen to it anymore, each “Nice to meet you, Tim!” like another punch to the gut. How can’t these people see right through him? How are they falling for his bullshit? You should’ve known. Producers always throw in at least one bomb to up the ratings—a secret millionaire, someone rude and confrontational, a flat-earther. Even if you’re competing in a charity baking competition, of all things, it’s still reality television at the end of the day.

Just because the bunch of you are going to spend the next few days creating confections out of sugar, spice, and everything nice, doesn’t mean you have to be part of that ‘everything.’

Tim thinks he’s got this in the bag. Thinks he’s going to show up and win easily, the rest of you be damned, and even if you are typically a very nice person, you’re also highly competitive. There’ll be no rolling over done by you, and if Tim wants to play dirty—

Game on.

As you introduce yourself, you feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of your head. Probably because you don’t bother with the faux-humility the rest of the contestants have. Polite and charming but firm, just the way your mother had taught you. You’re not boisterous, don’t crack silly jokes to play up to the cameras the way Tim loves to do, and you know he’s scrutinizing you the way you’d done to him, trying to figure out your angle.

Well, joke’s on him—you don’t need one.

And you really, really hope it drives him crazy.

Except maybe the joke is on you, too, because you don’t account for Xu Minghao.

In true reality television fashion, the tent is boiling hot.

As if the universe itself had looked down on all of you and decided what you all needed was a heatwave uncharacteristic of this time of year, just to up the ante. Not even ten minutes in the tent and you’re all fanning yourselves and wafting air up your shirts. Which is great, really, because it isn’t like you need to use ovens or stand over hot burners. It’s not like you aren’t going to be soaking through your clothes with anxiety sweats, either! Sweat dripping off your brow into your eyes won’t matter because you don’t need to use them.

Everything’s going to be fine!

But everything is not fine. Not only has the universe gifted you with sweltering heat, it’s given you the work station directly next to Tim’s. You’ll have to feel his annoying, off-putting aura near you for the entire competition. There’s always the possibility of him bungling it and making an early exit, but you know that’s unlikely. Obnoxious he may be, you also know a strong opponent when you see one, and something tells you you’re going to be stuck with him for the long haul.

Think of the cats, you tell yourself. All of this is for the cats.

It’s not like you never would’ve returned here of your own volition. No, your first go-round with feel-good, competition-based reality television had gone fine. You hadn’t won, of course, because you wouldn’t be here again if you had, but you placed respectably in the top three. Became a fan favorite, too, which was arguably more lucrative than winning. People make a living on social media these days.

So, it’s not the competition itself that has you white-knuckled gripping onto the edge of your station. It’s the man at the one beside you, cracking all these stupid jokes about the weather and how it’s a horrible day for tempering chocolate, so he bets that’s going to be the first challenge!

You suck in a deep breath. Try to remember the breathing exercises from that one yoga class your sister had dragged you to. It had been about the same temperature then, too—well duh, it’s hot yoga, your sister had said, which was news to you, because you never would’ve signed up for something called hot yoga willingly. Still, you endured it, just like you’ll endure this, and a little sweat is not going to get in the way of you delivering a check to all those poor, sad cats without families.

“Psst, hey,” you hear from behind you. When you turn, a man is smirking at you as he finishes tying his apron around his waist—has to wrap the strings around twice, you notice, because only someone hand-picked by the gods themselves would have that shoulder-to-waist ratio.

You don’t really recognize him. Can’t recall his name or where he’s from; can’t remember what he mentioned doing for a living. Probably something artsy, if you had to guess—he definitely has the style and demeanor of a creative, with his trendy shag-mullet and the multicolored, glitter-y snowflakes decorating his nails.

You aren’t sure he introduced himself at all, but the confidence with which he holds himself—easy, like it’d take a national emergency to rattle him even a little—implies he doesn’t really have to. Most of the people here already know him, if you had to guess, and he gives the impression that he’s not fussed with impressing any of them.

If only Tim was so inclined.

You clear your throat, vaguely aware you need to respond. “Yeah?”

“Are you nervous?”

“Ah, I don’t think so? We’ve done this before, after all. We should be seasoned veterans by now.”

He smirks. “Should be,” he emphasizes. “Feels different when it’s for charity. Extra serious, you know?”

“Right,” you agree, taking a look around the tent. “Anything for the cats.”

There’s an immediate shift in the atmosphere. What was friendly and carefree is now tense; where a smile and a floral giggle sat on the man’s lips has been replaced with a crooked scowl. And it doesn’t make sense, all you’d done was agree with what he said, but then the producers are yelling something at the front of the tent, cameramen are rushing to their equipment, and a woman appears at your side and starts clipping equipment to your clothes, and there’s no time to question it. On your right, Tim’s laughing and joking around with some crew members like they’re old drinking buddies. It drives you nuts, has annoyance pricking at your skin, flushing your cheeks—

So much so that the woman at your side leans in and asks, “Should I get hair and makeup over here?”

“I—no, it’s fine.”

The unnecessary members of the production team scatter away after a loud countdown. Hair and makeup don’t come to wipe the sweat tracks from your skin. You already know Man Behind You is standing there looking perfect because he’s equally as attractive as he is mysterious. God truly has favorites, and this guy somehow made the top five.

You stare down at the instructions in front of you, confident in your ability to read but not so confident in your ability to make sense of any of it. And it’s your own recipe, which is the worst part. You’d typed this recipe yourself. These are your hand-written notes in the margins. You’ve conceptualized, tweaked, baked, and eaten this recipe more times than you can count, and now all you can do is thousand-yard-stare into the ether.

In the time since you were on the show, you’d somehow forgotten about the chaos. Not unlike that hormone women have that makes them forget about the pain and agony of childbirth, you reckon.

In addition to being one of the most bothersome people in history, Tim apparently doubles as a prophet.

Because it is a terrible day to temper chocolate, and you’ve got a bûche de Noël on the horizon that requires you to do so. You can pivot, maybe make some kind of buttercream, but a basic chocolate buttercream is not going to win you a world-renowned baking competition even if it is Swiss meringue. A child could make that.

You sigh. Push that wave of panic to the back of your mind. In a setting like this, you have approximately ten seconds to come up with a back-up plan and execute it and you wasted your time thinking, so you’re just going to have to temper the stupid chocolate and stick to your original plan. God, you have a headache.

But the show must go on, so you do too.

Step 1: Preheat the oven.

Easy enough. If nothing else, you can preheat an oven.

Step 2: Make the sponge.

Not as easy, but you’ve made so many sponge cakes throughout your life you could probably do it in your sleep. Whisk attachment on the stand mixer. Four eggs. Sugar meticulously weighed and added to the bowl. Sugar and eggs whisked together until the mixture is the color and consistency you’re looking for. Flour, cocoa powder, and salt sifted in. Metal spoon to fold it all together as delicately as possible. You won’t have a sponge cake if you beat all the air out of it, now will you?

“Good enough,” you mutter to yourself, staring down at the bowl.

At least you’d had the foresight to grease and line your baking tray, because the entire entourage arrives at your station just as you’re meant to be pouring the batter into it and sticking it in the oven.

“Ah, we meet again,” the group choruses, genuine smiles peeking through as if you’re old friends separated only by time and distance.

That’s the weird thing about being on television. For as long as you’re able, you exist within a microcosm of daily life. A world exists outside of your bubble, you know, but you don’t see much proof of it. All of your meals are eaten together; all of your conversations are had with one another. You share temporary living quarters and oftentimes too much of yourselves, and you’re thankful the show encourages teamwork and kindness because that’s the kind of thing that can grow sour if you leave it unchecked too long.

And then it just—ends.

Bubble burst, you all go back to your regular lives. You look back on that time fondly, but the friendships are thinned out by time and distance. Eventually it all starts to feel like a dream, except every now and then something breaks through the haze to remind you it actually happened: a stranger recognizing you at the store, a message on social media, the casting team contacting you to ask if you’d be interested in competing in a holiday special for charity.

“We certainly do,” you retort, smile matching everyone else’s.

All things considered, you are happy to be back. Even if the tent is crowded and far too warm, the atmosphere is unmatched, especially when it’s decorated for the holidays.

“What are you working on?”

You explain the general workings of your yule log: chocolate sponge, hazelnut liqueur cream filling, and chocolate icing to top it off. You aren’t sure how you’re going to decorate it yet—you’ll figure it out once you get there, depending on how much time you have—but you guarantee them it’ll look festive and professional.

Satisfied with your plan, they wish you luck and move on to the man behind you. It’s so great to see you again, Minghao, someone says, and you’re grateful they’ve spared you the embarrassment of having to ask for his name. It still doesn’t ring a bell, and you can’t recall what season he’d been on for the life of you, but he speaks with a patience and a gentleness that is so unlike Tim that you nearly drop to the floor in thanks.

But as the commotion of the tent reminds you, you don’t have time to waste thinking about Minghao. You’ve only been given an hour for your signature, and you’re going to need all sixty of those minutes if you have any hopes of presenting a finished product.

It doesn’t register at first.

It doesn’t register at second or third, either.

In fact, you’re sure you’re hallucinating when you open the oven door to pop the sponge inside and you aren’t hit with a blast of hot air. Room temperature. Perhaps a bit on the cooler side, if you’re being honest.

And that can’t be, because you know you preheat your oven. It was the first thing you did, because it’s always the first thing you do. It’s just… automatic, like opening your mouth to eat or washing between your toes in the shower. Instinctual. Not something that needs to even be considered, because it’s always the first thing you do.

No, this cannot be. Forgetting to preheat the oven is a rookie mistake and you’re not a rookie.

…Could it be?

Perhaps you were so caught up in the lights and buzz, the thrill of returning to the tent, that it had slipped your mind? Perhaps you’d pressed the wrong buttons and turned the wrong dials? While it’s not likely you’d somehow bumped into the oven and turned it off, nothing is impossible, so… maybe?

“Shit,” you hiss through your teeth. The producers are not going to be happy about your swearing. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Everything okay up there?” Minghao asks from behind you. When you turn, he’s got a flour-dusted towel thrown over his shoulder as he nurses a cup of tea, and his composure in the face of your hysteria has your head spinning.

Your mouth opens and closes like a goldfish. Minghao is drinking tea without a care in the world and your oven isn’t even halfway to the temperature you need. “I—yes? No? I don’t know. I could’ve sworn I preheated the oven, but—”

“Don’t panic,” he offers, his top lip catching on the rim of his mug. “You got this. Work on something else while you wait.”

Something else. Right, you can work on something else. Both the filling and the frosting still have to be made, and quick mental math tells you there should just be enough time to get everything done if you’re efficient. Of course, that’s a big if, but that’s why you’d chosen a yule log, after all: sponge cake doesn’t need that long to bake, and anything can happen (and go wrong) in this tent.

So, you get to work on something else. Measure out a sheet of parchment paper, dust it with cocoa powder, and set it to the side. Decide to get to work on the frosting, because if one thing has already gone wrong, you don’t trust the universe to let you temper chocolate correctly.

The chocolate is halfway melted when the oven dings. A small harrumph of victory and you’re finally good to go, setting a timer for twelve minutes. Minghao offers you a discreet thumbs-up, fingers covered in something sticky you assume is marzipan.

Time flies after that. You get both the frosting and your filling made, and it’s only through divine intervention that your sponge cake comes out perfectly and with enough time to score and cool. When you dare a look around the room, everyone seems to be in a similar position as you: frazzled and covered in powdered sugar, making frantic trips to and from the refrigerators, chucking seized-up caramel into the trash and starting over for the third time with a pained expression.

A holiday special—it was supposed to be more laid-back, more for the vibes and festivity than actual competition, but it looks to you like everyone’s taking it just as seriously as your first go-rounds.

“Fifteen minutes!” someone calls, and your competitors fade out of focus. You’ve got a yule log to ice and fondant to roll out.

You make it by the skin of your teeth.

It isn’t perfect, of course, as few things on this show ever are, but it’s more than acceptable. It looks great and tastes even better which is all you can hope for. Much to your dismay, Tim also gets top marks, but it’s Minghao that shocks you all. His stollen wreath earns him a handshake and a lot of clandestine, private glares, but he’d been kind to you earlier, helped untangle that knot of pandemonium, so you return the thumbs-up he’d given you earlier with a smile that feels akin to getting away with murder.

Something is wrong.

On its own, this is not necessarily surprising. Gingerbread, tasked with bearing the weight of an entire house, can be fickle. On any other day you wouldn’t blame it if it wanted to rebel and go sideways, but the thing is—you’ve made gingerbread before. Tons of times. Another thing you could probably make in your sleep if you absolutely had to. So it doesn’t make sense when you look down in your mixing bowl and it just… doesn’t look right.

You tell yourself it’ll get better when you knead it. Maybe the color just looks off because it’s underworked, and a few good punches will set it straight.

But it doesn’t. The dough sits at your station like a sad, formless lump, giving you no indication it intends to become anything at all. Which is, admittedly, a problem. Your technical challenge is to build a gingerbread house—one complete with little windows and golden-toned nightlights, a scalloped roof dusted with powdered sugar to look like fresh snow, a working door!—and you’re far from an engineer, but you don’t think you can have a gingerbread house without gingerbread.

You sneak a peek at Tim’s station, where he’s well into measuring an immaculate-looking dough with a ruler. The contestant in front of you is in a similar place, too, so it’s with an oh fuck I’m doomed sigh that you turn around and hope to find a comrade in Minghao again.

“Hey,” you whisper, trying not to draw attention to yourself. “Does this look right to you?” You jerk a thumb in the direction of your dough-lump. Minghao, bless him, looks around you and tries his best to hide his grimace.

He does not succeed.

“Um. Well, no.”

You sigh. Place one flour-dusted hand on your waist and pinch the bridge of your nose with the other. “I can’t figure out what’s wrong with it. I’ve made gingerbread a million times.”

“Looks pale,” he offers. Of course, this is the exact moment he dumps his own dough—his beautiful dough, flawless chestnut brown—onto his station to knead it. “Was the sugar right?”

A strangled, disbelieving laugh escapes you. Was the sugar right—of course the sugar was right! Dark muscovado sugar. Everyone knows that's what you use for gingerbread, so of course the sugar was right because no one, both in their right mind and at this stage of competition, would use anything else.

Before you can respond, Minghao’s pointing at your jar of sugar. Your jar of pale, producer-supplied sugar, which even a blind person could tell does not resemble dark muscovado sugar.

A million thoughts race through your head at once, but it boils down to instinct, you think. Your brain had seen flour, butter, and sugar and went into baking mode, not stopping to take in the color of anything. Maybe a smarter, more perceptive person would put two and two together and get sabotage, but you don’t have enough time to play detective.

“Here, here,” Minghao says, hurriedly handing over his (correct) sugar. “It’ll be close, but you should have just enough time to redo the dough.”

You’re going to throw up.

In the end, a chunk of chocolate buttons is missing from the roof and the piping around the edges is far from your neatest work, but it’s passable. You already lamented your loss during the signature bake, because anything less than perfection was not going to win you much of anything, and you’re now 0-for-2 on showstopping, unbelievable, awe-inspiring confections.

Just like the devil, your fall from grace will be studied.

Overthinking isn’t going to get you anywhere, but you can’t help it.

You collapse sideways into a chair, immediately face-planting into the catering table. Everyone else buzzes around you—animated conversations that have your head spinning, words that jumble together and start to sound like nothing at all—but you’re a million miles away. One mistake is out of character for you, but two? It’s unheard of. Something you would’ve said was impossible if it didn’t happen to you just a few hours ago.

This is something you need to file away for later so you can think about it just as you’re about to fall asleep, horror and embarrassment there to keep you company when it keeps you awake until the wee hours of the morning.

A chill runs down your spine.

“Hi. Do you mind?” You startle. Bang your knee on the underside of the table. “Sorry,” Minghao apologizes, but he doesn’t look sorry at all. You shake your head. Gesture to the empty seat across from you as if to say it’s all yours. “I brought you some tea,” he continues, setting it in front of you. “I find it’s easier than coffee when you don’t know how someone takes theirs. Less chance of getting it wrong.”

You smile. Wrap your hands around the Styrofoam cup and delight in the warmth. “Thank you. This was very kind of you.”

“Seemed like you had a rough day.”

Groaning, you try to wave away his words. “Please don’t speak of it.” Minghao jokingly salutes you before miming his lips sealed. “Anyway. Let’s talk about something that is not reality television or baking or a reality baking competition.”

So, you do. Most of the talking comes from you, to be fair, but Minghao is a good listener: nods along, chimes in when appropriate, keeps the spit in his mouth where it belongs. You talk about your hometown and what made you apply for the show the first time. He tells you about growing up in Haicheng and all the things he grew up baking with his mother. You swap stories from your respective seasons; Minghao shares anecdotes with a straight face that have you clutching at your stomach.

Hours pass this way, and you end the night feeling like you’ve made an honest-to-god friend.

Xu Minghao ends the night feeling the guilt weigh him down like an albatross.

In retrospect, it is probably a bad idea to make another sponge, but no one can accuse you of learning from your mistakes.

“It’ll be a patterned joconde sponge with two mousse layers—chocolate and raspberry—and a raspberry jelly. Then I’m going to attempt to top it with chocolate and raspberry decorations.” The judges blink. Are you sure that’s a good idea? you know they want to ask, but this is a holiday competition for charity, so they’re trying not to be pessimists. “Anything is possible through holiday cheer,” you tack on, hoping your smile doesn’t look crazed.

They nod. “Right, right,” they say in unison. “Well, good luck!”

And then they’re off.

Determined to nail this, you triple-check your oven, which is preheating to a crisp 400 degrees; you double-check all your ingredients and confirm they’re correct; when you can spare the time, you watch your refrigerator like a hawk, making sure no one tries to sneak their own work in there and displace yours when you aren’t looking, but everyone’s engrossed in their respective showstoppers.

Tim’s planning a shadow box of sorts, with blown-sugar baubles and isomalt fire. Someone else is stressing over their three-tiered cake, asking the presenter if they think they’ve taken on too much. From what you can piece together, Minghao is making a three-dimensional house, also made from cake that he imported special pistachios for.

“Special pistachios?”

“Mm, from Iran. They have a better color.”

“Iranian pistachios! Can you believe it!”

But you don’t have time to worry about Minghao and his special Iranian pistachios. You have so much to do and not enough time to complete it. Your paste is in the freezer and the sponge is in the oven, but you’ve still got two mousses to make, a jelly to infuse, and little chocolate trees to create—and all of this wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t pointless, but you don’t want to disappoint the cats by half-assing it. They deserve your whole ass, and your whole ass is what they’re going to get.

The result is stunning—not necessarily in stature, but rather craftsmanship and effort. This is what you’re capable of. This is why you came back to the tent. For all your complaining and wanting to put your head through a concrete wall, there’s nothing like seeing the judges ooh and ahh when you present your work to them. There’s nothing like the ego boost of someone taking a bite and watching their eyes light up. There’s nothing like carrying your cake back to your station feeling proud of yourself.

“Great job,” Minghao says, a genuine smile stretched across his face. He also exceeds expectations, of course. Must be those special pistachios, you think, but your congratulations are also sincere.

Production makes a spectacle of judging, much like they always do.

The set is decorated to look like a winter wonderland, even though you’re still in the midst of autumn: a giant Christmas tree in the center decked to the nines with garland and baubles; warm, golden bulbs strung from every awning they could find; all the participants bundled up tight in festive sweaters and scarves all the way to your chins, cheeks and tips of noses dusted with red-pink blush to mimic the cold that’s nowhere to be found. Fake snow falls from the sky, and it doesn’t feel real, but it does feel magical.

One of the hosts catches you by the elbow, asks who you think is going to win. “Oh, I’d have to say Minghao,” you answer, because you’d rather die than give Tim the satisfaction. “His showstopper was incredible, but he was really great the whole competition.”

In the end, however, neither of them wins—it’s Jeon Wonwoo, three-tiered cake guy, who comes out of nowhere to claim first place. He’s bashful as he accepts his prize and says he’s going to donate the prize money to an organization that provides underprivileged kids with video game equipment. No one has a whole lot to say about that.

Once most of the hubbub dies down (and you give Tim a half-assed you did great, so sorry you didn’t win), you find Minghao near the refreshments table. He’s frowning around another mug of tea. “Alright?” you ask, helping yourself to some cider.

“For some reason, I’m no longer feeling very festive,” he replies, which is a very funny thing to say while wearing a hat with a little pom-pom on the top.

You roll your lips to keep from laughing. Sidle in a little closer and knock his shoulder with your own. “Ah, I know how you feel, but you really did do great. You were my pick to win, for what it’s worth.”

“Please don’t tell me that. It only makes me feel worse for losing.”

“Yeah.” You sigh. “Would’ve been nice to donate some money to the cats, but shit, if I didn’t know better, I would’ve sworn some dark force was sabotaging me. Like, come on—forgetting to preheat the oven? Using the wrong sugar? Not even a kid would’ve made those mistakes.”

Two things happen in rapid succession: beside you, Minghao goes very, very stiff, and you realize you had been sabotaged. And not by some dark, evil force, either. You were sabotaged by the very man standing beside you—the man you shared thumbs-up with and thought was your friend. The man whose cake you complimented and picked to win. The man who is now standing ramrod straight, as tense as a corpse, and the thought of sabotaging someone in a charity baking competition is so ridiculous and unbelievable that you just—

You just laugh.

At first, it’s a bark of stunned laughter. Then, the more it sinks in how absurd, how nonsensical all of this is, you can’t stop. Tears are rolling down your cheeks. You gasp for breath as your stomach begins to ache. People are staring, including Minghao, who sort of can’t believe what he’s seeing, but none of it does anything to deter you.

“Oh my god,” you wheeze, “I can’t believe it was you—”

Minghao groans. “In my defense, it was for the cats!”

This was not the answer you were expecting. It makes you laugh harder. “What do you mean it was for the cats?”

He swallows. Removes the mitten from one hand to run it through his hair as if that one tic was enough to distract you from everything that’s happened in the last sixty seconds. (It is.) “Listen, you told me you were going to donate the money to a cat charity if you won and I just—so was I, was the thing. I was also going to donate the money to a cat charity if I won—”

“Okay, but which one, though?”

“The Cat’s Paw-jamas.” Much to Minghao’s horror, this sets you off again. “What? What’s so funny?”

“Minghao,” you try to choke out, but you can barely breathe around the cramp in your stomach. “Minghao, that’s the charity I was going to donate to. Oh my god, you sabotaged me and I was going to donate to—to the same fucking place. Jesus Christ, this is some Gift of the Magi shit.”

Your saboteur, who has gone deathly pale, is quiet for a very long time. Every now and then he’ll open his mouth like he’s going to say something before it snaps shut again. When he does manage to speak, what comes out are mangled apologies that sound like gibberish, and you wave all of them away. “It’s water under the bridge.”

“I—I really don’t think it should be?”

“Minghao, it’s fine, trust me, this was just for fun—”

“No, I really insist.”

You sigh, good-natured and exasperated. Something about the fake snow has you feeling romantic and a little bold, so you turn, grab him by the lapels of his coat. “Please tell me if I’m misreading this, but if you insist, maybe you can start by taking me to dinner…?”

This was clearly not what MInghao was expecting you to say. Dazed, he recovers quickly, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in a half-smirk. “Dinner, hm?” You nod. “I think I can manage that.”

You smile. “Great. How do you feel about cat cafes?”

[lure-of-writing]

Kick your ass

Note: Hi everybody long time no see! I would assume that is doesn't come as a surprise when I say being a flight attendant leaves no room for writing much less doing anything else but sleeping but here we are after what I'm sure can be counted as forever. Anyways I feel like this story is when your partner just isn't getting it right and it's driving you crazy and you get a little ( or a lot) sassy. I'm so happy to have finally written something in so long and I hope you love it!

Word count-2.3K

Warnings- none unless you count cussing

Summary: Lately all your mate does is piss you off. And don't get it wrong you love him but you are more than ready to kick his ass.

You love Azriel with all of your heart, your whole being if you're being completely honest but lately he has done nothing but piss you off. It first started with him going on a mission during the middle of your cycle. Since the moment you knew Azirel was your mate you gave clear explicit instructions that Azriel was to be no more than five feet away from you during that time of the year unless it was for something of the utmost importance and could not be handled by anyone else. Imagine your surprise when he started grabbing his leather clothing after he had made you breakfast and had gotten you comfortable in your bed that could fit three grown Illyrian men. 

“And just where do you think you're going?” Azriel could feel like distaste dripping off of your words and hitting him in the back as he was faced away from you. It was no secret that Azriel loved you more than life itself and would do absolutely anything to keep you safe and happy but when you were on your period you could be a handful and more often than not you tested his never ending patience until you actually found the end of its supply. With a slow release of his breath he turns around to find you perched on the edge of the bed throwing an angry glare in his direction. “Listen baby” the shadowsinger slowly approached you like you were a wild animal ready to strike at any moment and honestly that comparison isn’t too far off with the way you look like you're ready to rip his head off of his shoulders. “You know I wouldn’t go unless I had to, yeah?” he kneels before you gently rubbing comforting circles on your bare thigh while giving you a soft smile reserved for only you. “Is the information you retrieve from this mission of that great value?” he watched as you paused waiting for the answer that both he and you already knew. “Is there no one else beneath you who could do it instead?” And while yes there were people beneath him that could handle this task, Azriel is a perfectionist and would like to make sure things get done right. “Is it so important that you must leave your mate during their cycle knowing the excruciating pain I endure? It's so important you must put this before your mate?” 

Azriel knew this conversation was a losing battle on his end but he also knew if he would like to be able to sleep next to you tonight that he must offer something to make up for it. “No my love, there isn’t anyone else who can handle this as they are all busy at the moment but don’t worry I will be back before dinner.”  Even as you glowered down at him all the shadowsinger could think about was two things. One, he is definitely in trouble and two, how stunning you look. “I don’t care if no one else can do it, get that brute of your brother to handle it.” You waved your hand in a dismissive way as if to send Cassian on this mission yourself and Azriel couldn’t help but lay his head on your legs and laugh and your attitude. 

The next time Azriel made you mad was during a family dinner with the inner circle. At first with all the new people, family dinners were a little awkward and unbearable mostly due to Cassians pinning over Nesta and her constant blatant rejection but also because of the middle sister's fascination with your mate. Did she know he was your mate? Yes. Did that stop her from having a crush? Absolutely not.

As you were getting ready to head down to Feyres and Rhysands new house you had made it clear he needed to put his foot down and tell Elain he was not and would never be interested in a relationship with her otherwise you would handle it yourself and Azriel knew that meant you would become your own nasiter version of Nesta and you would tear her down until she couldn’t even look you in the eyes. It may not be the best way to handle her crush but until Azriel when it came to dealing with people who had a crush on him you tended to leave your manners at the door. 

Everything was going well at the river house until you walked into the dinning room with Amren and spot your mate seated next to Elain on one side and Mor on the other side. The whole group could feel the shift in the temperature as it dropped and you gave a cold and pointed stare to your mate. Possessing the same powers as Rhysand you barged into his mind “What the hell is this?” without responding he gently shakes his head in a not right here manner and pleading with his eye for you to just let this go. Silently you take your seat across the table from him and sit next to your high lady and Amren. For the rest of the dinner you say nothing as your pin Azriel to his seat as your seething anger radiates off of you and hits him like a tidal wave over and over again never once giving him a break. 

“Y/n” Azriel had waited until after you had taken your bath and done your fifteen step skin and body care route and had gotten into bed with your current book you picked to read before approaching you. He gently sat down on the bed next to your legs and hopped you don;t make him sleep on the couch tonight.  “I know you're upset with what happened at dinner but it just happened one minute I was talking with Mor and the next Elain was ushering us all in to eat dinner and she just happened to sit next to me.” As he gave his explanation of the night's events you had closed your book and laid it in your lap and nodded silently in understanding waiting for your mate to be done talking. “Is that so?” you asked in a thoughtful way. Now Azriel has been with you long enough to know that tone of voice and that statement should strike the fear of every god into him and it definitely did. “Yes, I promise that's what happened.” Once again you nodded in understanding before tilting your head to the side with a confused look on your face. “So if that's all that happened then why would Elain feel comfortable sitting next to you knowing that you have a mate who cannot stand her crush on you? And didn’t I tell you to make sure Elain knew in no uncertain terms that her fantasy of having a relationship with you was nothing more than a fantasy and if she tried I would kill her?” Azriels heart dropped to his stomach as he listened to you talk, he had known that there was something he needed to do but as soon as he entered the house Cassian gave him a cup of a mysterious alcohol and Rhysand had beckoned him over to fill him in on the status of a mission one of his spies were on. And before he knew it Morrgian had whisked him away to talk about her journey on the continent and the information she had obtained while there and the next thing he knew he was sat between the girl he used to have a crush on and the girl who currently has a crush on him. Candidly he knew he was fucked. 

“Let's go with your version of events like you said they happened shall we? I am going to assume you got too busy with everyone to tell Elain to knock off her childish behavior, which you would have done in a much nicer way because you are you. Then why didn’t you say anything to her when I walked in or better yet why didn’t you get up to sit next to me instead?” As a professional interrogator your mate knew you had just walked him into a trap and for a split second he wondered why you didn’t have his job instead. “Baby you know both of those options would have been rude and probably would have ruined the dinner.” Nodding in fake understanding you inspect your nails giving it a brief second before responding “And you are the shadowsinger of the night court. One of the most feared males in Prythian and you couldn’t muster up the courage to say something to Elain? How ironic is that.” You scoffed and shook your head in a surprised manner and needless to say he ended up sleeping on the couch that night. 

The last straw was watching Azriel train the valkyries and watching them not so subtly drool over your mate. You wouldn’t be one to blame them if they had done so in a respectful way but they were bluntly flirting with your mate right in front of you. One thing you loved about Azriel was how secure he was in your relationship. No one could make him look in the direction that wasn’t you, if someone was trying to flirt with him he didn’t register it unless it was you. And normally you wouldn’t have a problem with that except three girls were currently trying to make a pass at him and he had no reaction. Most would take that in a positive way but not you, you wanted him to shut that down the second it started and make a clear line in the sand on what was expected from the student-teacher relationship amongst him and the Valkyries he was training. “Azriel!” You had barely shouted his name from across the training platform on the house of wind but it felt as if you had. He turned around to see you leaned against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest and face set in a scowl while glaring at him. Turing to look at the trainees before him he instructs them on what to do next before quickly making his way to you. “Yes my love?” he asks in such a hushed and concerned tone that you almost forget what you called him over to yell at him about, but over his shoulder you see one of the girls check him out and suddenly you remembered all over again what it was that you needed to speak to him about. “You need to tell your students to stop checking you out and to close their mouths before they start drooling all over themselves.” Your mate's face scrunched in confusion. Azriel may be an excellent observer but when it came to himself not so much. He couldn’t see his own beauty that was hand crafted from the gods themselves, he couldn;t see how his quiet and standoffish personality drew people in, he couldn't see all of the things that you loved about him could all be the reason that other people lust after him. 

His shadows gave him a play by play of what his students had been doing while he wasn’t focused on each person in particular and how you had been brewing in your anger in the corner by yourself. As soon as you put on your fighting leathers this morning Azriel knew he was doomed as it was your ritual to fight each other everyday during training but seeing you in the corner pissed that other people had been checking him out brought his demise to a whole nother level. Azriel subtly glanced down at where your arms were crossed over your chest and he thanked the gods for your outfit. “You sound a little upset, my love.” Once more you send him one of your signature pointed looks “Yeah you would be upset also if the roles were reversed.” He shrugs slightly while tilting his head and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer to his body. “You’re not wrong I would be upset because nobody gets to look at you that way unless it's me.” He pulls you even closer to his body until you’re chest to chest with him and he bends down to whisper in your ear. “Beat me in a match and I will make sure they know I’m no one else's but yours. I'll let you claim me anyway you want, hell I’ll even let you do it in front of them if that will make you feel better.” Both you and Azriel knew the game he was playing at but neither of you cared, well him less than you. You pulled away slightly to look up at your mate and see the smirk resting upon his very kissable looking lips “Sounds like a deal to me because I’ve been wanting to kick your ass all week.” 

The shadowsinger followed behind you with a laugh and he shook his head in amusement while taking in your figure from behind. He watched as you got into your fighting stance and waited for him to do the same. He held his hand up to signal you to give him a moment. Turning around to look at the Valkyries in training he gathered their attention without saying a word. “I think it's about time to see what the last remaining real valkyrie looks light during a fight and maybe then you can aspire to be a fraction of as good as my beautiful mate is.” He turned back around to see you glowing with confidence, determination and love, but also the want to make sure you won his bet. Gods he knew this was going to lead to some great sex after you kicked his ass and he couldn’t be looking forward to it more.

[oxymorayuri]

❞𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞❝

OneShot

✦ Pairing: trafalgar law x reader ✦ Warnings: cussing, dirty words, mature content ✦ Spoiler: none

wordcount: 2577

Law always makes you sweat. He drives you crazy with his touch and knows exactly which buttons to push so that you do everything he wants. You actually love it but you only want to be in control once... You want to see Law go crazy.

! ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ !

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ

Picture: bigdaddyzoroo (pinterest)

"Oh my god are you for real guuuuurl??!"

Ikkaku speaks in a amazed tone.

"Psshhht, don't be so loud!" you squeak at her, embarrassed. Frustrated, you put your chin on one hand and stir your drink with the straw.

"You're such a naughty girl..." Ikkaku shakes her head with a mischievous grin and tries not to laugh out loud.

"Shit, I really didn't think you'd be such a kinky girl..."

“So what exactly surprises you?” – "I don't really know, but hey.. 'still waters run deeeep' I guess." She said flatly as she puts her drink to her lips and looks around the bar.

It's been almost an eternity since your crew was able to go ashore again. As soon as they set foot on the land, the boys already rushed into the first bar. Since the mood between you and Law had been pretty stale over the last few weeks, you didn't mind numbing your senses with a few drinks.

Not an hour has passed and you can already hear the drunk babbling of Penguin and Shachi. Ikkaku sighs heavily as she watches the two slobs.

"I think you should just loosen up a bit. Law adores you and from what you've said, Law seems anything but prudish." she winks at you as she sips her drink. Your ice cubes have now melted so much that the alcohol has been completely watered down. You greedily drink the glass in one go.

"Haaah... Yes, you're right but that's exactly the problem. Law is crazyyy" you lean over to her a little "And me? I'm the one who's the wallflower!" you confess to her. You look at her so desperately that it took her completely by surprise.

"BAHAHAHHAHAA holy moly! y/n... I think I'm going to pee myself." Pouting, you fall back into your seat and cross your arms as she laughs her heart out.

"You know what y/n?.. You actually have a very clear advantage..." She wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. Her words make you eagerly await what comes next. Ikkaku sits up a little and shows you her teeth with a wide grin.

"Law has no idea what 'could' await him! So the element of surprise is on your side." You nod attentively to every word and absorb everything like a dry sponge.

"You just gotta get the stick out of your ass." She laughs in your face. You're a little shocked but she's damn right.

Law has seen every inch of your body...why are you still so shy?

Sure, Law is quite intimidating when the two of you are behind closed doors, but in a way that makes your nipples stiffen just thinking about it and you have to press your legs together because of the excitement.

Ikkaku and you continued talking about the topic for a while and she told you the craziest one night stands she had. Your face regularly changed from shocked to blushing but you still envied her open minded nature. You, on the other hand, are rather friendly and gentle.

If you only knew that your innocent nature is the very thing that drives Law crazy...

You breathe in the delicate spring air as you step out of the bar.

All the sexy bed stories gave you some inspiration and that's why you said goodbye to Ikkaku and set off to check out a few boutiques.

You stop in front of a rather small shop. In the shop window you look at the very elegant nightwear.

Yup, that will do.

A little hesitantly, you push down the door handle and enter the store.

You're glad that you seem to be the only customer.

Behind the cash register, the owner greets you, somewhat surprised, and stands up straight away to answer any questions.

You stand in place, a little unsure, and look around the room. There is not only nightwear here but also plenty of sexy lingerie for women and men.

"Can I help you sweetie?" The owner approaches.

You breathe out with relief and happily accept the offer.

"So what did you have in mind?" - "If I'm honest, I'm completely inexperienced when it comes to this." She looks at you with a smile as if she's amused by how awkward you are.

“Taken or single?” - "Taken." you answer her.

She asks you a couple more questions. About your preferences, your favorite colors and then puts a piece of lingerie in your hand.

"Here, try this on. I think it will suit you well." You stand in front of her, a little lost, and slowly make your way to the changing room.

After seeing yourself in the mirror in the lingerie, you can't help but stand there with your mouth open. The straps press lightly into your soft upper thighs and the beautiful lace on your skin looks like an extravagant tattoo. It's crazy how clothes influence your character. You feel 10.000 times hotter.

After you paid for the lingerie and a few accessories, you asked the owner for a little advice.

"Always keep one thing in mind... A man's imagination is a woman's best weapon." With that sentence she smiled mysteriously in your face. You don't even notice how she places another little thing in your hand. Only shortly afterwards do you notice the cool object in your hands and you look at your hand.

"Uhmm..." you look at it a little uncertainly.

"Not for you... for him..." Without further words she disappears into the back room and leaves you alone with the sentence.

Once on the Polar Tang you quickly scurry to your and Law's room. You quietly shut the door behind you.

Well, he's not here. He's probably in his office.

Relieved, you go to the bathroom to prepare for your plan.

After putting on your tights, straps and lingerie, you put on Law's bathrobe. You examine the owner's additional gift, somewhat unsure.

"...A man's imagination is a woman's best weapon..." you mumble to yourself as you think about what to do with it.

As you walk down the hallway to Law's office, you repeat Ikakku and the shopkeeper's words over and over like an anthem.

Be bold, be sexy but be yourself. Be bold, be sexy but be yourself. Be bold, be sexy but be yourself.

When you arrive at the door you take a deep breath.

You know that you look hot. The owner has definitely met your taste and you are sure Law will like it too.

You knock on the door 3 times so Law knows it's you and after a concentrated 'come in' you slowly open the door.

Even when Law doesn't even look up from his documents, you're still standing in the open doorway, feeling so vulnerable. The cool air blows through your legs, reminding you of how lightly dressed you are. The clothes you wear. The desire you have. This deep seated desire to be above Law, even if it's just once, makes you wish you had the time to touch Law in whatever way you want.

Then an idea comes to you. You look at the gift from the owner and immediately think of how you can use it. Your imagination gives you the courage you've never felt before. Just thinking about it makes you feel hot.

Just be someone different today.

You speak to yourself.

"Law my darling." you speak confidently in a sensual voice like you've never heard yourself before. Law is actually the type of person who doesn't get easily distracted, but that longing in your voice makes him look up straight away.

He looks at you silently while you stand at the doorframe and you slightly open the bathrobe on one side. Law looks at you rigidly as if he was hypnotized by your movements. Your heart is pounding so hard against your chest. the adrenaline rushes through your head and releases joy. You're internally pleased at how speechless he is, but you try not to show.

Without looking away from him, you close the door behind you, lock it and walk towards Law. You sway your hips gracefully until you're right in front of Law's desk.

Without any further words, you drop the robe onto the floor.

You feel like your heart will stop because of the excitement inside. You've never felt so good as you follow Law's gaze. His eyes wander silently over your whole body and then into your eyes.

His gaze so fiery and yet calm. Your heart squeezes so hard at his stare that you wish it would just stop, and all you saw last was Law's intense stare.

You carefully walk around the table. Law and your eyes don't leave each other for a second. Standing between the table and Law, you get a little nervous. You've never been in a situation like this before. Law, on the other hand, notices your slight insecurity and leans back in the chair, grinning.

Pull yourself together y/n.

You bite your lip, you can't let your facade crumble now, otherwise Law will have the upper hand again. You've just found joy in being in control… you don't want to lose it again!

With slightly unsteady hands, you support yourself on an armrest and lean over Law. Law's breathing is calm and his posture is stable.

Normally he would like to drag you into your shared room but this is something new and he isn't put off by it.

His dirty smile turns you on.

Your lips are only a few millimeters away from his and you absorb his scent like a drug. Its slightly sweet yet woody scent has something distinctive and reminds you of amber. Slowly you open your lips.

"Law... -" Hearing his name from your lips, he parted his lips slightly to inhale carefully.

He never expected you to pull a stunt like that but he loves it.

He enjoys it.

With your lips so close to each other that you're almost kissing, you whisper to him as suggestively as you can.

“Do you want me, Law?” - "Absolutely." You feel his sly smile as you seal what you just said with a kiss.

You feel Law's hands trying to grab your waist but before he can, you lean back and put the handcuffs the shopkeeper gave you on him.

Startled, Law looks down at his hands and then up at you. Satisfied, you sit down on his desk and give him a smug grin. “I see…” he says with a bright look. The flickering in his eyes gives you goose bumps.

Law rests his hands in his lap as he watches you intently. You put your hands on the table and let yourself fall back a little while spreading your legs. You give Law an exquisite view of your divine stature and you notice how his chest starts to rise and fall faster. That's exactly what you wanted to achieve, but it's still just the beginning. With one hand you slowly go down your stomach until you reach your panties and play a little with the lace waistband. Law's eyes are completely focused on your cunt as you give him a few glimpses of your slit.

You are already quite excited and decide to move on to the second phase. You wanna touch Law.

Slight confusion appears in Law's eyes as you close your legs, but you just give him a small smile in return. You kneel in front of him and place your hands on each of his knees. You innocently look up at him.

"Do you want to touch me?" Law would be lying if he denied that. The lace lies on you like a second skin and reveals just enough of your skin that it is impossible for him to look away from you.

It could burn around him but first he would bury himself inside you.

"Oh yes.." he answers you hoarsely.

You happily put some pressure on his thighs as you move up to his crotch. You had already seen the bulge in his crotch while you were sitting on the table. Just the thought of his member makes your cunt drip. You gently brush his swelling cock and look into his hungry eyes when you notice a twitch.

“Come on y/n, take the handcuffs off me.” he tries to persuade you with his deep voice. You smile mysteriously at him and shake your head, there's no way you're going to do that. You focus back on the feeling you get when you touch Law.

There's no better validation than rattling the usually composed Law. Law slowly resigns himself to the fact that you decide when he can touch you and spreads his legs a little more apart. However, you don't give him your full devotion yet.

You stand up again, reach for his hands and open the handcuffs. Law wanted to greedily reach for you, but you stopped him and waved your finger in front of his nose in rejection.

You grab his collar and your sweet voice orders him to keep his hands to himself or you'll put the handcuffs back on him. However, you miss the sight of him sitting there, unable to touch you.

You sit on one of the armrests and slowly take off one of your straps and then the other. With both stockings in hand, you grab Law's hands and tie them each to one of the armrests. Law looks deep into your eyes as you make yourself comfortable on his lap. His hard cock presses against your cunt, sending multiple shivers down your spine.

With your delicate fingers you trace the tattoo on his chest. You enjoy the feeling of his abs and the sight of him tied to the chair watching you do your scheme has something forbidden.

Finally you place your lips on his and start massaging him down there with your hip movements. He returns your kisses hungrily and you bite his lips lightly, causing a small moan to escape him.

For quite a while you ensure that the tension lasts until the glass almost threatens to overflow. The knot in your abdomen is growing and growing and your wet pussy is literally screaming for release.

You separate your lips from his and walk towards the desk again. With your back turned to him, you lean over the table and look at him over your shoulder with red cheeks.

"Come and take me, Law." you beg him as you spread your butt cheeks a little to give him the view of your wet folds.

Law loses control, grabs the stockings and tears them to get away from the chair. You admire that even though he was able to remove the stockings so easily, he submitted to your command and obediently kept his hands to himself. Breathing heavily, Law looks down at you, his pants already on the floor. Before he hides his shaft inside you, he grabs your hands and puts the handcuffs on you.

"Now it's your turn."

Masterlist

Let me know in the comments if you liked it hehe.

See you next time, kiss kiss ♡

[farfromsugafanfic]

Rebound | Chapter Five: Switch

Genre: College AU, Basketball Captain!Yoongi, Basketball Captain!Reader, Idiots to Lovers, slight Rivals to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort

Pairing: Yoongi/Reader

Rating: M

Chapter Warnings: smut, oral (f rev), mentions of police, "princess" pet name, alcohol consumption, mentions of drunk driving (but none occurs), references to underage drinking (Yoongi and OC are not underage)

Synopsis: You and Yoongi always catch each other on the rebound.

A/N: I'm so sorry this has taken so long to post. I initially intended to get it posted over the course of a few weeks, but life happened and the last semester of grad school has been crazy for me (I also studied abroad over the summer where I had little time for my personal writing). I'm going to get chapters queued up over the next few weeks and I am going to try my best to have it lined up before I return to classes.

Previous | Series Masterlist | Next

Yoongi reached up and grabbed your hand with his forcing it down against the bed.

"No," he said. "Keep it on. The door doesn't lock and if someone walks in..."

You smiled and responded by pushing your hands up Yoongi's T-shirt. His skin was warm and soft and utterly intoxicating.

His lips continued to move downward, placing sloppy, opened mouthed kisses down the fabric of your dress. Damp spots began to appear as he moved his way down, but you didn't care.

Yoongi was on his knees as he came to the hem of your dress and pushed it up catching sight of your black lace panties. You heard him hum quietly in satisfaction.

"You didn't wear these to the game did you?" he asked. "I imagine that would be uncomfortable."

You laughed. "No, I wore them just for this."

"You planned on getting laid tonight?"

"They match the dress." You smirked

Yoongi began to kiss your thighs, his hands working to keep them parted. He hadn't even reached your core yet, and you were already writhing and wanting to close your legs around his neck.

"Yoongi, we can just fuck if you want, you don't have to—"

He began to slide down your panties then at an agonizingly slow pace. His fingertips brushing against your leg with every inch. When he reached your feet, he tossed them onto the bed beside you.

"No," he said. "I want to show you how much I like you. Let me treat you, Princess."

The nickname nearly sent you into an orgasm by itself. You didn't have much time before Yoongi threw your legs over his shoulders and began eating you out.

His mouth focused mainly on your clit, but that alone was enough to feel the build up in your stomach. If his skill wasn't already enough, the small grunts and moans he let out whenever he came up for air sent you reeling.

You buried your fingers in his hair and pulled lightly, relieving some of the tension.

"I've been—I've been thinking about this since last time," you said, not completely cognisant of the words falling from your lips. "I couldn't stop thinking about you."

Yoongi never responded as he was too busy trying to satisfy you. He looked amazing on his knees in front of you. If it weren't for the way his hands held you down, it would almost seem like you were the one in control. As if he—the high and mighty captain of the boy's basketball team—was bending to your will.

The thought only got you off more and you were so near your release.

You weren't sure exactly how Yoongi managed to get you off with just his mouth, having kept his hands firmly planted against your thighs the entire time.

"Yoongi, I'm gonna—"

You expected the boy to move his mouth at the warning, but instead as you orgasmed your release covered his lips and chin. He looked beyond irresistible as he emerged and brought the hem of his shirt to his mouth and wiped off your cum, exposing his toned stomach. His white fabric now stained and you were getting wet just looking at it.

"Yoongi, can I—?" You were cut off by the sound of sirens and the flash of lights coming through the window.

"Shit," Yoongi said under his breath. He reached above your head and retrieved his jacket and helped you pull down your skirt. He reached down and picked up one of your heels, searching for its mate.

You could already hear the rest of the partygoers running and various indistinguishable shouts. You sat up and while having just a moment ago been ready for another round, the situation killed your vibe.

"Forget them," you said. "I'll run faster without them."

You took Yoongi's hand and rushed towards the back door. You were sure the police were just there about a noise complaint, so they most likely weren't going to rush into the party, at least until they realized that at least half of the partygoers were underage.

Your first time at the semi-finals party had ended in you spending a night in jail, although you never ended up being charged. It was a college town after all, and drunk college students weren't always the most pressing matter.

"Did you drive?" Yoongi asked, still slightly behind you, but his fingers wrapped tightly around yours.

"Nah, I planned on getting a ride back with one of the girls in the morning. Did you?"

Yoongi nodded. "But, I had a drink. We can't go anywhere."

You were relieved Yoongi didn't plan on driving drunk, but with the majority of the cars parked on the grass in the back were gone.

You immediately spotted Yoongi's dark colored sedan and headed towards it.

"I mean, we aren't underage. They can't possibly care if we just hang out back here? We aren't breaking the law?"

Yoongi shrugged as he took his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the car. You climbed into the back wanting to lay down.

"I guess, we'll find out," Yoongi said, climbing in behind you and closing and locking the door. Despite the action still unfolding around you, the tires squealing away and the frantic screams of freshman attempting to run into the woods before they were discovered, the car felt quiet and you closed your eyes, already feeling a little sleepy.

Yoongi had somehow shuffled his way under you. Your back against the back of the seat and your side resting on his. His arm was loosely around your waist and his breath warm against your neck.

"We could just sleep here," he said. "I can take you home in the morning."

You nodded in agreement. You cuddled against his warmth and brought your legs up to rest in his stomach. With the movement, you brushed against his crouch, feeling that Yoongi was still hard and a sudden wave of guilt rushed over you.

"Oh, Yoongi," you said. "I'm sorry..."

"What?"

"You got me off, but you didn't—"

"Don't worry about me," he said, placing a kiss in your hair. His breath soon came to your ear and you could feel the heat radiating off of him. "I'm just happy I got to see you cum."

You knew Yoongi was just teasing, just wanting to rile you up a bit, but it made heat flood into your core and the guilt explode in your chest.

"I-I could suck you off," you said, trying to sound confident. You'd never given a blow job before, but if anyone was going to be your first, you were glad it was Yoongi. You trusted him to go easy on you the first time.

"No Y/N," he said. "Go to sleep."

"But, it's not fair," you said. "You were so amazing and I want to pay you back."

Yoongi's hands grazed over the fabric of your dress in soothing lines you were convinced was the outline to a beautiful work of art.

"Y/N, I didn't do it because I expected anything in return. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to."

"Yoongi, I want to!"

"Y/N," he said.

"Is it me? Do you just not like blowjobs?"

Yoongi chuckled slightly, probably cause it was obvious that you were a little tipsy. He smoothed down your hair.

"No, Y/N, the thought of you sucking my dick is possibly the hottest thing I can think of. But, I don't want you to do it because you feel obligated to."

You quieted and rested your head on his chest, not caring that your dress slipped up slightly or that your feet were now impossibly tangled with his.

Your mind raced at Yoongi's words. Part of you was touched and felt tears stinging and threatening to spill over. But, another part of you was worried. Did Yoongi care about you? More than in a friends who occasionally have sex way? Why else would he care if you felt obligated? Yoongi was a good guy—he always had been—but he has never been the type to turn down a woman freely giving her consent.

But, exhaustion soon overtook your worries. Your sleep was interrupted only momentarily by the bright shine of a light and the sound of Yoongi's deep, raspy voice. The one that emerged whenever he had just woken up or had been quiet for a while.

You couldn't catch what he said, but you felt his hands come to your body as he felt you shift on top of him.

"Yoongi? What was that?"

"Nothing, go back to sleep, Princess."

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[haowrld]

SEVENTEEN AS ARCTIC MONKEYS SONGS

NOTES : seventeen headcanon, music recs

WORD COUNT : 0.9k words

WARNINGS : none!

A/N : i love svt and i love arctic monkeys so uhh also this is just mostly just vibes and me going crazy lol it honestly makes me want to make a fic with these songs

MASTERLIST

seventeen as arctic monkeys playlist (check it out 🗯️)

SEUNGCHEOL

I WANNA BE YOURS : secrets i have held in my heart, are harder to hide than i thought, maybe i just wanna be yours, i wanna be yours, i wanna be yours.

this song is full of yearning, it just fits seungcheol so well since he has such a large presence but it still brings a sense of comfort.

JEONGHAN

BODY PAINT : straight from the cover shoot, still a trace of body paint, on your legs and on your arms and on your face, and i'm keepin' on my costume (keeping on), i'm callin' it a writin' tool, and if you're thinkin' of me, i'm probably thinkin' of you.

very simple instrumentals but the way it flows just really suits jeonghan. lyrics oddly remind me of jeonghan and how smart he usually is on certain occasions.

JOSHUA

CORNERSTONE : and i elongated my lift home, yeah, i let him go the long way round, i smelt your scent on the seatbelt, and kept my shortcuts to myself.

the music has a super sweet and has a nostalgic feeling to it. i honestly think this is such a joshua thing if you read the lyrics, it’s pretty angsty honestly, but the song still has such a beautiful instrumentals that i eat it up …

JUNHUI

SECRET DOOR : and the secret door swings behind us, she's saying nothing, she's just giggling along, even if they were to find us, i wouldn't notice, i'm completely occupied.

there’s something so wen junhui abt this song like it doesn’t make sense. the sudden drums that enter in the music or just the drums in general and the effects behind it with the bass is such a good part of the music

SOONYOUNG

KNEE SOCKS : the late afternoon, the ghost in your room, that you always thought didn't approve, of you knockin' boots, never stopped you lettin' me get hold, of the sweet spot by the scruff of your, knee socks.

again with the banger instrumental and the bridge BRO. the lyrics on the other hand (i actually dk what it’s on abt lol) but they have some of my favorite lyrics

WONWOO

ARABELLA : my days end best when the sunset gets itself behind, that little lady sittin' on the passenger side, it's much less picturesque without her catchin' the light, the horizon tries, but it's just not as kind on the eyes, as arabella, oh, as arabella.

wonwoo is so arabella, like ik it’s about a person but the lyrics just remind me of a person who’s mysterious and shit, and wonwoo is an enigma

JIHOON

PILEDRIVER WALTZ : you look like you've been for breakfast at the heartbreak hotel, and sat in the back booth by the pamphlets and the literature on how to lose, your waitress was miserable and so was your food, if you're gonna try and walk on water, make sure you wear your comfortable shoes.

calm song and such a vibe as hell, this is honestly so woozi, and the lyrics is pretty silly but they are still pretty good 😋

MINGHAO

DO I WANNA KNOW? : crawlin' back to you, ever thought of callin' when, you've had a few? 'cause I always do, maybe I'm too, busy bein' yours, to fall for somebody new, now i've thought it through, crawlin' back to you.

do i have even anything else to say abt this…? i might make a fic (i wish)

MINGYU

505 : i'm going back to 505, if it's a seven-hour flight or a 45-minute drive, in my imagination, you're waiting lying on your side, with your hands between your thighs.

the beginning part has me on chokehold, THIS is why it’s such a popular song and i think it’s just so kim mingyu bro

SEOKMIN

FLUORESCENT ADOLESCENT : you used to get it in your fishnets, now you only get it in your night dress, discarded all the naughty nights for niceness, landed in a very common crisis, everything's in order in a black hole, nothing seems as pretty as the past though, that bloody mary's lacking in tabasco, remember when you used to be a rascal?

although the lyrics are a little CRAZY i pretty much chose the song over the fun beat and vibes for dokyeom hehe

SEUNGKWAN

THERE’D BETTER BE A MIRRORBALL : so if you wanna walk me to the car, you oughta know i'll have a heavy heart, so can we please be absolutely sure, that there's a mirrorball?

it has pretty deep instrumentals plus the vocals are so soft and smooth, and seungkwan totally has the softness around it, im kind of into it LOL

VERNON

R U MINE? : i go crazy 'cause here isn't where i wanna be, and satisfaction feels like a distant memory, and i can't help myself, all i wanna ever say is, "are you mine?"

this just reminds me so much of vernon when he was in his black eye era, lyrics sounds desperate and shit i just think abt black eye with the guitar just going brrr

CHAN

STOP THE WORLD CAUSE I WANNA GET OFF WITH YOU : well, i know that getting you alone isn't easy to do, with the exception of you, i dislike everyone in the room, and i don't wanna lie, but i don't wanna tell you the truth, get the sense that you're on the move, and you'll probably be leaving soon, so i'm telling you

this is my favorite song from them, including fluorescent adolescent, and it sounds like a pretty romantic song and just this is so chan honestly idk how it has such good feel around it

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©️HAOWRLD

[seasidepierre]

sunkissed face - charles leclerc

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS MASTERLIST

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

summary: A special one, for a special weekend.

warnings: I'm not sure when I'll be back, but enjoy this one while it's out.

words count: 1k

a/n: You know I couldn't not write something. It took me thirty minutes, I did not reread myself, you're getting first draft, spur of the moment, here. I promise I'm not dead. Thank you for loving Sunkissed so much and for being the sweetest readers ever. Love you tons. Daghe Charles 🤍

The waves kept licking your toes, your sundress pooling around your thighs. The Monaco harbour was finally calm, the sea tame and the sun reflecting golden speckles on the horizon. The streets had been busy, busier than usual, but you found yourself in one of the rare corners of the principality where you’d be left alone, in a quiet bubble, where no one would bother you.

The week of the Monaco Grand Prix was always special. It was always a mix of a frenzy, crazy times that you never quite were able to deal with, but also a mix of warm sunsets, comfortable bed sheets and piano sessions to wake up to in the mornings. It was also the week of pains au chocolat in bed, of fresh and cold fruit juice in tall glasses, of wandering fingertips on your thighs and soft kisses in your lover’s neck.

The Monaco Grand Prix was always your anniversary weekend, too. Three years ago, you left your friends on a boat to sneak into a Ferrari event. Three years ago, you met Charles, who took you for a tour of the principality in his beloved Ferrari, then for a swim on his Riva boat. Three years ago, you sat on this same pier, listening to the cars drive in the background while Charles grieved the possibilities of a home win after a treacherous pole position secured by a crash into a barrier. Three years ago, you met the man you’d share your life with, dressed all in red and sunshine, a warm man who turned your world upside down with soft words whispered in your ears, with arms wrapped around your stomach and with tender kisses on your cheeks.

Three years ago, you dried tears of sadness for a man you barely knew.

Today, you dried tears of pride and happiness for the love of your life.

Charles was laying on the pier, his race suit still wet and clinging on his thighs. His hair was finally dry, curling in the most adorable little curls at the end, that you kept playing with absentmindedly, tangling your fingers in sea salt waves of brown strands, drowning yourself in the green eyes and dimples you loved so much.

Charles was finally relaxed of that remaining constant tension in his shoulder, he had finally achieved the ultimate dream of his and his father’s. He had won that Monaco Grand Prix that meant so much to him, after years of sadness, disappointment and doubts. You had gone through four races here, now, not one leaving you relieved about the outcomes. But this weekend, Charles had mastered everything he needed to have done, everything had finally clicked into place and with the complete support of his team, something you had pleasantly welcomed in your lives a few years ago, he had finally turned the dream into reality.

A few hours ago, he had jumped into the harbour with his team principal, yells of happiness and pride mixing with the sea salt water and the tears. You had waited your turn, letting him enjoy that win on his side, first with his team, then with his family. You’d lived a few wins with the Leclerc family already, but none that left everyone crying so much. You knew what it meant for them all, so you took a step back and left them to celebrate this one between themselves. Charles hadn’t said much after the podium and all the press duties. He had been relieved from the race debrief, there would be time to do that later, so you had patiently waited for your man to be free and ready to celebrate this one out with you.

So many of his friends were waiting for him at a club. So many of his peers were waiting to party and congratulate him. So many people in Monaco waiting for the prince of the day, the one who’d made everyone cry.

And still, Charles was laying on the pier, his head rested on your thighs, his breathing calm and relaxed, his eyes closed and his nose taking the faintest pink hues, a result of the sunkiss effect that drew you in the first time you’d seen him.

“Everybody is waiting for you, Charlie,” you whispered. “Let them wait. I’m good here,” he whispered back. “I don’t need to go to the club. I just need to lie here. I just need you.”

You smile at the horizon, knowing perfectly well that he would get jitters in a few hours, that he’d drag you to a club and that you’d end up driving his car because he’d be too hammered to drive himself. But for now, for an hour or two, you’d selfishly enjoy this one with your man.

His gold trophy was next to you, the medal hung on the little hairpin representation of the track. His cap, ruined by the water, completed the triptych of a magical afternoon, spent in the streets you fell in love with, just as you fell in love with the man lying at your side.

“Congratulations, my love,” you softly exhaled. “You deserved that one so much.” “Thank you,” he smiled a little. “I love you.” “I love you too,” you grinned.

The streets were finally calmer, after they’d exulted in celebrations. The harbour was finally quiet. The sun was starting to dip behind the horizon line. Your sundress was finally dry after you’d taken Charles’ hand and jumped in the water, taking your time to float in the sea and to kiss the winner under the heat of a May sun. Your hair was curling just like your boyfriend’s. You’d go back to your place, get rid of your clothes, slide in the shower together and God knows what you’d do in there. You’d party tonight, put him to bed when he’d irrevocably end up drunk and you’d make sweet love in your bed tomorrow morning, when the quiet and calm would be back to your lives.

Your Sunkissed boy had made it. You couldn’t be more in love with him.

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[aurumacadicus]

You know what else would be funny.

Tony knows Steve is kinky. Okay? They've been together a couple years and if he'd known what a horny beast he was unleashing when he asked Steve to give him a little spank once, he would have thrown himself on Steve's bed sooner. Steve likes to try everything once just to figure out if he likes it (although usually he insists on twice just to be sure) and Tony is very happy to be accommodating.

That being said, he knows Steve is holding something back. When Tony had casually mentioned a fantasy he'd always had of getting rescued-and-railed by a fireman, Steve had opened his mouth, then sort of drew in on himself, and closed it again. Tony has never seen shame on him, not when it comes to the bedroom, and it jars him. He wonders if it was something he did. Did he say something that would put Steve off? Had he done something that implied he wasn't trustworthy? Or maybe it's just none of his business. Tony tries to keep from pushing, from prodding, but he's bad at self-control when he wants something.

"You're not subtle," Steve says a few days later. He sounds amused, but he also doesn't continue, so. Maybe he's just pretending to be amused.

Tony doesn't know what to say. He's not subtle and he wants to know what Steve won't tell him and it's driving him crazy. Steve doesn't have to tell him everything, obviously, but he can't help but think something's wrong with him if Steve doesn't trust him. It doesn't make sense and he's too embarrassed to put words to it. It feels manipulative. Steve is allowed privacy. Tony just doesn't know how not to pick at something he wants to understand and that's his problem.

"Tony?" Steve asks, and Tony realizes he's been wringing his hands the entire time to distract himself from talking. Steve looks concerned now. "Sweetheart?"

"I think I'm gonna go work on the suit," Tony blurts out, but he doesn't really want to. Steve was going to make dinner. He was going to pretend to help and Steve was going to let him believe he actually had. He'd just come from working on the suit. Steve frowns, confused, and it makes Tony want to explode with anxiety and shame because he wants this to work so much and he's messing it up by reading into something he has no business reading. "Or, um, I have paperwork down there too."

He turns to leave, so he doesn't blurt out something really embarrassing, like 'did I do something wrong,' or 'why don't you trust me.' It's not even something important. It's Steve's smutty fantasy. Just because Tony hadn't been embarrassed to ask Steve to put on a firefighter uniform doesn't mean Steve has to reply in kind. That's not how relationships are supposed to work. It's fine. It's fine.

Steve lets him go, and Tony's not sure why that hurts so much. It's what he wanted. And it's better this way. He can't blurt out what's been eating at him. He can keep Steve a little longer before he messes everything up. He can soak up a little more happiness to hold close to his chest when things finally blow up. He just needs to take a moment, he decides, pacing up and down the floor of his workshop. Ask all the questions he wants to ask Steve but knows he shouldn't. Get them all out of his system. He can say the words down here, alone, and it'll keep him from saying them in front of Steve. If he just gets them out, he can go back up, sit down at the kitchen island like he wasn't just acting super weird, and ignore this ever happened.

Why won't Steve tell him? Does he not trust him? What did Tony do for Steve not to trust him? He thought they'd gotten past their rocky first meeting. Had they, though? Tony had honestly brushed off Steve's insults after the initial sting. People had said worse to him, and quite frankly, he hadn't been surprised to be found lacking by someone Howard idolized. But maybe his barb to Steve had cut deeper than he'd thought? He'd apologized for it. Hadn't he? Had he apologized enough? Or maybe--maybe this is one of those things that just never goes away. Does Steve look at him and think Tony still believes everything special about him came out of a bottle? Because he doesn't. Everything special about Steve is because he is Steve. The only thing the serum did was make him bigger.

He notices Steve leaning in the doorway to the workshop on his next turn, and the noise it tears out of him is terrible even to his own ears. "How much did you hear?" he asks, wondering how much he can backpedal. How much he can say was just nonsense he didn't really believe. How much he can convince Steve that he really is a good boyfriend please don't break up with him he'll figure this out and forget all about it please--

"It's dumb," is what Steve answers, and Tony just blinks at him, confused. "My fantasy. That's what this is all about, right? That's when you started acting weird. I didn't tell you because it's embarrassing how dumb it is, not because I don't trust you."

"Oh," Tony says, and he's relieved, but the nasty part of him that started all of this wonders what he did to make Steve think he'd laugh at him about it.

Steve just looks at him for a moment, not moving from his lean against the doorway. Finally, though, he shrugs. "I don't really care, but it's clearly bothering you, so. My fantasy is I wanna be your pool boy."

Tony blinks. That's it? All of his anxiety and... Steve wants to be his pool boy? Steve doesn't even like pools. The chlorine gives him a headache, but Tony can't go to a salted pool because it reminds him of his torture in Afghanistan, so they compromised by just not going to pools because neither of them even really like to swim.

"Just seeing you in your lounger," Steve continues with another shrug. "Wearing your bathing suit. Getting a tan. Relaxed. Maybe napping. Completely at ease. Sometimes I think about your rich husband neglecting you. So I take over for him and rail you in your lounger with the tanning oil for lube."

Tony blinks again, slowly, brain still feeling like TV snow. Stupidly, all he can think to answer is, "But I sunbathe naked," because he doesn't like tan lines.

"OH NO WHAT A CATASTROPHE," Steve answers loudly, finally stepping into the workshop. "You naked by the pool. You do seem like the type to tease your pool boy."

"Huh?" Tony splutters, then squawks when Steve lunges for him, and he can only blame himself for the fact that they don't eat until an hour later when his stomach rumbles loudly in the middle of round two.

[lightfeltmemories]

Kyojuro Rengoku: NSFW Alphabet Headcanons

note: i finally decided to give demon slayer a chance and my god, this man right here has got me wrapped around his finger i swear he's all i think about, i want to make as many headcanons as i can of his man (without burning out, of course), so if you have requests for him, please send them my way, i'm in dire need.

tags & warnings: reader is female/afab, usage of the words "cock" and "cunt,"

A - Aftercare

Kyojuro and Aftercare are a match made in heaven, he loves you dearly, so he's going to go above and beyond to make sure you're okay, he's always asking you questions on what you want, and helps you clean yourself off from both yours and his sweat, and afterwards, the two of you spend the night cuddling and falling asleep in one another's arms.

B - Body Part

His favorite body part on himself is his rough, calloused hands, with all the years of slaying demons and training like no tomorrow, he finds it quite aesthetically pleasing to see his hands grabbing on to your waist, ass, tits, whatever, while he's thrusting inside of you.

His favorite body part on you is your waist and thighs, he loves grabbing onto them as he laps away at your sensitive clit, spreading your legs apart and holding them in place, and as he pounds you from being, he grabs onto your waist and watches your ass smack against his pelvis.

C - Cum

He surprisingly cums a lot, and its a pain to clean, the taste is indescribable, not bad, but not the best thing in the world, he has a thing for cumming inside you, filling up your womb with his seed, but he also has a thing for facials, a territorial side of him opens deep within as he sees your face plastered with his cum, his cock twitches at the sight of you scooping up some of it and sticking it in your mouth.

He's also not against tasting his own cum, he'll kiss you after he came inside your mouth as the both of your tongues dance, swapping the liquid with each other.

D - Dirty Secret

Despite having quite the positive reputation, your first conversation and first look at him you wouldn't think he had some dirty things hiding deep in his core, but i stand firmly on the belief that Kyojuro is the epitome of "gentleman in the streets, but a freak in the sheets." And as long as what you want doesn't cause discomfort or harm to the both of you, he'll be on board.

He at some point wants to try anal, after having a conversation with Tengen at one point, the conversation turned dirty really quick, the two of them discuss about what women like in bed, Tengen has 3 wives, so he most likely knows what's up, and during the convo, the Sound Hashira had mentioned something about one of his wives liking anal, and he has been thinking about it ever since, obviously if you aren't into it, then there will be no mention of it ever again, but if you are, he'll take things slow since he has never done it before, and plus he doesn't want to hurt you or make you uncomfortable.

E - Experience

Little to none, the only form of experience he has ever learned is from Tengen or what you have taught him, i don't think he's ever seen fully naked woman in his entire life until he's met you, and once he's had an experience his life has been changed, i don't even think im exaggerating, either.

F - Favorite Position

He likes all the positions you do for their own individual reasons, missionary for the faces you make as his cock hits the spot that drives you crazy, doggy style for (like mentioned previously) the way your ass jiggles while he fucks you from behind, giving it a couple slaps and grabbing onto it tightly as he's close to his end.

G - Goofy

There are a few, for example, he can't help but chuckle when you queef, but i wouldn't say goofy, just lighthearted moments to ease the intimate atmosphere.

H - Hair

I feel like it would be weird for his hair to match his eyebrows, so i'd say they match the hairs on his head, no matter how long they grow, it will be blonde, no red tips in sight. Before he met you, he kept himself moderately groomed, he doesn't grow much hair down there for some odd reason, so, there wasn't much to work with.

When it comes to you, it doesn't matter if it's completely bald or an amazon rainforest, he'll part that sea if he has to.

I - Intimacy

The soft, slow, intimate moments makes up 90% of your sex life with him, the fast paced, kinkier moments are actually pretty rare, he wants to take his precious time with you and make sure you also finish.

J - Jack Off

He doesn't really get that urge often, especially when you came around, since he has you if he wants to blow off some steam, the concept of jacking off became near non-existent unless the two of you are mutually masturbating.

K - Kinks

Oh, he's got some, buckle up.

I love the idea of Kyojuro having a breeding kink, i stand ten toes down behind it, he'll almost always cum inside of you, and when he's spooning you, he's rubbing his palm on your stomach, hoping a baby grows, despite his schedule as a Hashira, he's always wanted at least a couple children.

He's got a praise kink, not only does he love being told how good he's making you feel, but he's pretty vocal about how good you make him feel as well, going on about how tight your pussy is, squeezing around his cock like you never want him to pull out, how beautiful you look when your eyes are lidded with an O shaped mouth, how your moans sound like music to his ears, how much he loves you, how he-.

And last but not least, he's a switch, and has a thing for you domming him, while he may not go as far as pegging, he'll definitely let you take control, he likes it when you're particularly rough with him, wrapping your hands around his neck as you bounce on his cock, not letting him cum, overstimulating him, and making countless love bites on him as a way to claim your territory.

L - Location

When it comes to public sex, he doesn't want to do it in a place where people are at risk of catching you just yet (the idea makes the blood rush down and make his cock harden, i could've added this to the kink category but i don't think it's something he's particularly fond of over the others i've mentioned), he'll fuck you outside if you ask for it, maybe in a secluded, secretive area that only you two know of.

M - Motivation

When he finally started courting you, he started to become more comfortable with his sexuality, he started finding himself rock solid at simple things, he's not abysmally horny, but he's not a prude, either, when the two of you are cuddling, any simple thing that brushes against his groin makes it twitch, especially your ass as it presses against it, the friction of the clothes separating the two of you making pre-cum leak through his underwear, wearing something that shows a little too much cleavage, with a high risk of one of your breasts spilling out of your top.

N - No

I don't see him as the type to degrade you, the words "bitch, slut, whore" or any of the sort will never come out of his mouth when it comes to you, you are his world, his queen, his flame, any and all positive names he can think of will replace them.

He's not into being called "daddy," putting his issues with his father aside, he just think the concept is a bit odd.

He also won't be too fond of things such as hard bdsm, scat, pee, cnc, ddlg, etc.

O - Oral

He greatly prefers giving over receiving (even though he definitely loves himself a blowjob), this man knows how to eat pussy, you'd think he'd practiced before he came to you, he never fails to give you an earth shattering orgasm after teasingly stroking your clit with the tip of his tongue, and curling his fingers inside your wet, drooling cunt.

When it comes to receiving, he'll subconsciously find his hand at the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair as his cock hits the back of your throat, if it weren't for his concentration breathing keeping him from cumming in under a minute most blowjobs would've been lackluster.

P - Pace

He'll start off with slow strokes, pumping in and out inside of you, but for the majority, he'll be at a normal pace, he's not rough with you unless that's something you're into, but once he finds himself close to his orgasm, he'll grow faster.

Q - Quickie

Kyojuro doesn't see the point in a quickie, the moment is meant to be intimate and sensual, not quick.

R - Risk

He loves a good risk, switching it up and trying something new, which is what keeps the sex lively and never boring.

S - Stamina

Stamina of a god, he'll go as many rounds as you like, lasting the whole night if you want.

T - Toys

He's pretty open to toys, during missionary, he'll use a vibrator to stimulate your clit as he pumps inside you, it makes you spill out more of those lovely juices. when it comes to toys on him, if the two of you are feeling rather lazy, he doesn't mind you pulling out a fleshlight and pumping his cock, but he'll admit, the real thing is better.

U - Unfair

Oh he loves teasing you, if you're being a little bratty, while he sucks on your clit, he'll pull away from it just when you're about to cum, and if you manage to stimulate yourself, prepare for a punishment; having you watch him stroke himself as your pussy leaks on the bedsheets, whining about how he wants him inside of you, and of course he spoils you rotten and fucks you silly in the end.

V - Volume

He's vocal, he wants you to know how he feels too, so he'll moan softly in your ear, or groan as he pounds himself into you, you'll never hear the end of his constant praise.

W - Wild Card

His balls are sensitive, while you're giving him a blowjob, and you take his balls into your mouth and swish them around, you'll feel warm liquid fall from your hair down to your face in 10 seconds max.

X - Ray

I stand behind the big dick Kyojuro agenda, he's over 6 inches and under 8, and is girthy as fuck, his balls are large and hung, he's packing a weapon not only on his hip but also between his pants that only you're allowed to touch.

Y - Yearning

Surprisingly after all this, it still remains pretty low, not nonexistent but the two of you don't have sex too often, maybe twice every week, sex is not the most important thing of his relationship and values you over your body.

Z - Zzz

You'll always end up falling asleep before he does, but he does sometimes feel content enough to pull you close as he himself drifts away in his own dreams (haha funny train arc reference)

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Villain's Coffee Shop part 13

Warnings: none, really, this one's mostly passive

Three days passed. Three days of waffling, of thinking it over again and again.

Hero was giving him the chance to save lives with his powers, instead of take them. Despite the dark nature of his particular gifts. He was so indecisive and uncertain it was driving him crazy. There was a reason he was Villain - and it was because the world had rejected him. Did he really want to open himself up to potentially getting hurt again?

But... if there was even a slight chance...

Villain downed the last of his fifth cup of coffee for the day, and it wasn't even noon yet. It was the weekend, and his shop was closed. Giving him plenty of time to get lost in his thoughts, to weigh the pros and cons of taking up Hero's offer. Of giving this whole 'being a hero' thing a try.

He felt a little guilty remembering how he'd hurt Hero recently when the control over his powers had slipped. Would she even want him to join the hero team after that? He hoped he hadn't scared her too badly with his flashy show of power during their last encounter.

Villain jumped and turned at hearing something clatter to the floor and saw Mocha hop off one of the counters to land with a light thump next to the phone he'd knocked off it. He rolled his eyes with a laugh and walked over, petting Mocha on the head before scooping up his fallen phone.

"Yeah, yeah, I know I'm procrastinating,'" he sighed affectionately, and scooped the scruffy cat up in his free hand, helping Mocha climb to perch on his shoulders, draped across the back of his neck like a purring scarf. It was his favorite spot to lounge while Villain worked when there weren't customers around. It kept him out of the way and freed Villain's hands up to work, while Mocha was still able to get what he wanted too -- to stay near his owner at all times.

Villain waited until Mocha had settled down around his neck before unlocking his phone and going to type in a phone number. He hesitated with a finger hovering over the call button, chewing his lip. "What do you say, Mocha? Should I do it?"

Mocha booped his cheek with a wet nose, and Villain smiled.

"All right, guess I'm trying something new…”

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

The call went surprisingly well, and Hero spoke as if nothing had happened between them -- as if Villain hadn't attacked her in his own coffee shop when she'd come to speak with him about the job offer.

But eventually, the meeting point was set. Villain half-suspected it might be a trap, so he made sure to be cautious when he arrived, in full civilian clothes. He wasn't wearing any facial-molding makeup -- scars out on full display. He wouldn't waste time with an organization that wouldn't accept him for who he was, hideous face and all. And he brought Mocha with him. The clever cat went practically everywhere with him, anytime he wasn't on-duty fighting heroes in the streets. This was no exception.

Mocha was also a frighteningly good judge of character, so it was convenient to bring him as a test to check out whoever his future employer was going to be. Villain would be able to tell from how Mocha reacted alone if someone had bad intentions. And he wouldn't associate himself with those who would judge a three-legged cat anyway.

Hero was already waiting for him when he arrived, standing outside a tall building Villain knew belonged to Agency. Being so close to the enemy's headquarters put him on-edge, but he firmly reminded himself that he was here to play nice.

Villain glanced briefly at Hero's wrist, which was wrapped in medical dressings.

"Still not healed?" Villain commented as he approached behind her.

Hero whipped around, startled, then relaxed at seeing who it was. She rubbed her arm sheepishly, glaring. "You fractured my wrist, jerk. Of course it's not healed yet," she spat.

"I suppose I do deserve that," Villain muttered.

Hero arched an eyebrow, glancing down at the black cat sitting next to him. "You... brought your cat?" She questioned.

Villain didn't bat an eye when he answered. "Yes. I did."

Hero's nose wrinkled in confusion, but she didn't argue with it, spinning around and gesturing beckoningly to him. "Come with me, I'll show you to the office you'll be interviewed in."

Villain strode after her, Mocha trotting next to him like a dog. Such a clingy little creature. But they shared a close bond, so it made sense that wherever Villain was, his cat could be found too.

Hero took them up an elevator to the fifth story, leading the way until they reached a large, empty office. There were two chairs on one side of a desk in the middle, and one chair on the other. Villain took a seat, and Mocha immediately hopped up into his lap. Hero took the chair next to him.

“My boss should arrive shortly,” she announced reassuringly.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222

@federthenotsogreat @everynameistakencarrots

[purpleprincessonfyre]

Driving Miss Crazy 🚗 🔥 ❄

Liane let's her impulsive thoughts get the better of her and a certain Agent has to save her ass

Starring: Liane Felton, Cho Ji-Hoon ( @calmbeforezero )

Also features: Melissa Wallace, Mia Parker ( @ask-missparker ) and JJ ( @marvelsfavoriteuncle )

Rivals to frenemies, Fire vs Ice, Angst, Heart to heart

"Just exactly how are you this annoying? How many times have you been punched in the face because of what you say?" Ji-Hoon, thundered, gazing down at the blonde with that icy glare he seemed to have perfected for just Liane's snarky remarks and jabs.

"Oddly I think...only once? Yeah once." She replied coolly, inspecting her nails. "Are we done here? I'm going for a drive," she sighs, picking up her car keys as Ji-Hoon smirked. "With who's licence?" He replied, holding up his phone and snatching away her keys. "You know you're not allowed to drive, legally. That pink..thing in the garage may be yours but you are not qualified to drive it." He says, holding the keys out of her reach as she tried to to jump and grab them before the agent quickly froze the keys in his hand.

"No. Driving." He said sternly as her eyes changed colour, snapping. "Fine! I won't drive my own damn car! You happy?" She growled, storming off. Ji-Hoon pocketed the keys, satisfied. "Very."

Later....

"Uh Ji-Hoon?" A very panicked Melissa tapped Ji-Hoon on the shoulder, flanked by a raging JJ and an exasperated Mia. "What's happened?" He sighs, assuming its Liane's fault. "Uh so Liane disappeared and we assumed she had gone shopping or something but JJ's car is gone and the footage shows that she took it and we don't know where she's going.." Melissa says as she shows him the tracker following her phone fast. Ji-Hoon paused and watched the tracker, starting to see why they were all stressed. "But...Liane can't drive, she's a terrible driver, why is she doing this?" He asked, taking the laptop from Melissa. "We don't know but she's not slowed down and she hasn't stopped once. And we're pretty sure she doesn't know where she's going." Mia answered as JJ was pacing.

"When I catch that primadonna...for taking my car- my...car...." He breathed in a dangerous tone as Mia turned to Ji-Hoon. "Did...you say anything to her?" She asked as he sighed a little. "I told her flat out she can't drive anywhere. And I took her keys. And she said...she said 'Fine I won't drive my own...damn car,' dammit!" He muttered, standing up. "She's doing this on purpose, to make a point. A really stupid point. God...I cant-" He had barely got in the door. He'd just returned to The Tower after a long mission. And the first thing theyd done was fight and bicker. His bags were still at his feet. She had really done it this time.

"I'll go after her. That car won't run forever, JJ when did you last fill it up?" Ji-Hoon asked, making a plan. "About a week ago, so it was at half a tank I think." He replied as Ji-Hoon ran a hand through his hair, holding back a lot of rage. "I'll go after her. You track her and keep me informed, that car's gotta run out at some point. And I'll doubt she's feeding herself either.." he muttered, grabbing his jacket. "I'll get her back here in one piece, or at least try," He said as he headed out to go and save Liane's ass. Here we go again.

=======

"God why would I do this? Where am I going? Why am I so stupid?" Liane cried out, tears rolling down her cheeks as the sun was setting behind her as she kept her foot on the gas, mascara burning her eyes as the car started to sputter and choke, the speed quickly decreasing as the car's fuel gauge finally hit zero as the silent road just lay ahead, Liane had not thought this through. What had been the end goal here? She couldn't even remember at this point. She just sat there at the side of the road, crying as she heard a familiar sound coming towards her as none other than Cho Ji-Hoon flew over the car and herself before landing right by the front window, his hands on his hips, eyes icy.

"What in the actual fuck were you thinking, Felton?" Ji-Hoon asked as Liane just burst into tears, shocking Ji-Hoon's smirk off his face as he saw what a mess she was. Her makeup running down her face, her hair tangled up, and now she was slamming her head into the steering wheel which he quickly stopped her from doing. "Hey, don't do that, you might hurt yourself...seriously though Liane, why did you do this?" He asked, taking a seat in the passenger side as she turned to him. "Because I'm stupid. And impulsive. And crazy. And a fucking idiot!" She cried out, gripping the steering wheel hard as her palms got warm.

"Shit, Liane!" Ji-Hoon cried, freezing her hands immediately as she sobbed again. "Why am I like this?" She asked, as Ji-Hoon wondered if she needed an answer. "Because deep down, despite everything you still crave attention? And you can give it all you like but you can't take it so you take everything to heart and let it chip away at you until you try something crazy and potentially dangerous which ultimately thrusts you back into the spotlight for all the wrong reasons?" Ji-Hoon answered as Liane sniffed. "Since when did you become a mind reader?"

That made him chuckle. Nothing she ever said to him or ribbed him for really had an effect on him. Yeah it pissed him off once or twice but he knew her game. She wanted a reaction, something to justify her actions. And it only pissed him off so much because he knew she wasn't stupid. She was smart and had the capacity for kindness and compassion. He had seen it. Ji-Hoon sighed. "JJ is mad. Like not screaming and shouting, he's gone deathly quiet. You really disappointed a lot of people today. People who stick their necks out for you when they honestly shouldn't. You need to stop this reckless behaviour. I've been back for five goddamn minutes and you are still a thorn in my side. This needs to end. I mean it, Liane." He said firmly, looking her in the eye.

"Or one day, we might not be there to stop you. And you'll do something dangerous and stupid and...." he swallowed hard but it was the truth. "And we won't want to save your ass. We won't want to stop you doing something dangerous that could get you in big trouble or even worse, get you killed. Trust is a powerful thing, Felton. If you break it, its gonna be really hard to fix it with those guys. Especially with JJ." He finished as Liane stopped crying, closing her eyes. "It just happens, I get these stupid ideas and I can't stop, not until something gets in my way. I want to stop but my foot stayed on the gas. Fuck..." she trailed off, the warmth of her hands melting away Ji-Hoons ice as they sat there in the darkness.

"First, you apologize. Profusely, no bullshit, you give JJ a proper apology for stealing his car. Second, get your ass back to therapy, Petra will straighten you out good I guarantee it. Third, think twice or even thrice before acting on these impulses. Think four times if needs be, just don't be so quick to jump on a bandwagon when you get these ideas. Think of Belladonna, would you really want her following your example like this? Seeing you self-destruct over and over again and thinking it's okay?" Ji-Hoon asked, looking Liane in the eye.

"God no, I'd hate for her to do any of that, she's my daughter, she shouldn't have to do that for attention." Liane replied, suddenly disgusted with herself as Ji-Hoon nodded. "Exactly. So lead by example. Take responsibility for yourself. And your actions. You ready to go home now?" He asked, helping her out of the car slowly. Liane nodded, wiping her tears. "But what about the car?" She asked as Ji-Hoon wrapped his arms around Liane tight, looking skyward. "Mia's taking care of it, now hold on tight." He instructed as they took to the skies, heading home.

"JJ's going to kill me..." Liane sighed as they glided across New York. Ji-Hoon chuckled. "Nah, he's probably taking that rage out on something healthy. Like a punching bag or on the shooting range. Unlike you...why the hell did you stop going to therapy?" He asked, giving her a glance and seeing it written on her face. He sighed. "You thought because you were doing better that you didn't need it...okay no surprises there," He answered as they landed safely at The Tower. Liane just stayed silent as Ji-Hoon faced her, taking hold of her shoulders. "Go back to therapy, Liane. It's not about...fixing yourself or your past. It's about moving forward. Leaving the past behind. Sure you can feel guilty about the bad stuff but you're allowed to grow and change, Felton. We all are." He finished, walking back inside with her.

"I'm sorry for always picking on you, it was dumb and childish. And the nicknames...it was stupid." Liane finally said as Ji-Hoon gave her a half smile, grateful for the apology but not wanting her to change her habits with him. "Hey you're good. Honestly it wasn't that bad, your insults were always pretty lame. And I didn't mind them. I know how shit your brothers were, none of us are blind to that. You were their punching bag, you saw an opportunity, I became yours. A punching bag that could fully kick your ass, mind you, but it gave you an outlet. So I don't mind being your outlet. If it means you get to feel a little bit in control." He smiled, walking towards the kitchen.

"I am going to make tea for us and you are going to apologise to JJ." Ji-Hoon stated as Liane went to reply but he simply said, "Neither of those things are optional. And since I am technically your higher up, that's an order, Felton." He said briskly as Liane sighed and headed off to the training space to find JJ, bracing herself for impact as she knew he would be her toughest apology to gain forgiveness with. Ji-Hoon was right, it was time Liane Felton grew the hell up and faced the music.

Hope you enjoy! First time writing with a bit of Ji-Hoon's perspective...hope I did him justice @gcthvile and feel free to write a part two if you wish @jackiequick from JJ's perspective since you did contribute to the fact it was his car she stole.

@askstevella @ask-starrk @rickb-chaos @luna-d-marsh @wizzzardofoz @ethan-lensherr @afterhours-witheli @sci-fi-lexcon @ms-tiana-xoxo @the-x-ladiesofnyc @therealdaydreamstark @sadiesadieagentlady @spotted-ac-richards @trulysummersprivate

Tags: @jackiequick @gcthvile @blueboirick @aidanxsophxoxo

[johnslittlespoon]

Dog coded john has me on my KNEEESS again like-

Actually collar-and-leashing him???? I’m going actually INSANE.

Thinking sooo hard about what you said about Gale being a soft dom bc GRRRR as much as I love John getting smacked around a bit, Gale just wouldn’t, not when there’s so many other fun ways to get him to behave 😌

Anyway, I can’t stop thinking about John mouthing off, y’know being John, and just being generally a little shit (john tingz) so Gale just pulls him close and murmurs in his ear “y’ gonna be a good boy or am I gonna have to make you be quiet?” And John fucking shivers

Getting back to their quarters and Gale has John strip down and get on his knees. Gale taking his own shirt off once John is on the floor and getting the collar and leash on him and leading him to the bed after ruffling his hair, having John kneel between his legs at the side of the bed. Lightly degrading and teasing him a bit as he talks about all of John’s behavior over the day, telling him that “let’s see how much you can mouth off with my cock in your mouth, maybe you’ll finally be able to listen and be my good boy” before feeding his cock down John’s throat, keeping him close with the leash and firmly but not harshly tugging on his hair when John immediately starts sucking. “Ah-ah, none of that. You’re just gonna sit there and keep your mouth full while I read.”

John eventually (key word here bc there were definitely some whines of protest for quite a few minutes) settling in with his head resting in Gale’s thigh, cock down his throat, and one of Gale’s hands mindlessly petting through his hair and giving a gentle tug more out of reflex than warning whenever John swallows around him a bit to try and keep at least some of his drool in check, not that it truly helps much. John completely losing track of how long he’s been between Gale’s legs until Gale’s petting through his hair and John’s eyes are fluttering open and he’s immediately aware of how achingly hard he’s gotten over the past however long it’s been, a soft whine leaving his throat as he shifts his hips around. Gale cooing over him and letting John get him off, only for him to pull John up onto his lap and moving his legs to straggle one of Gale’s thighs. Gale encouraging him to get off on his leg and John’s so stupid hard and his brain is full of fuzz and nothing but Gale that he can’t even be bothered to be at all ashamed by the idea, especially not with the way Gale’s got his hands resting on John’s hips to guide him and praising him the whole time in that low voice of his that never fails to drive John wild with want and need.

ZOO WEE MAMA I WENT A LIL NUTS-

Anyway I just needed 2 share 😌😌

- @mangokittokatsu

THIS KILLED ME FUCKING DEAD. YOU GET ITTTTT, YOU GET IT.

it would almost make john more nervous too, that gale doesn't resort to physical (at least physically painful) discipline, because he can never guess what's going on in gale's head, what he's got planned, and gale gets creative with it too. so many fun ways to occupy john's mouth to forcefully quiet him, and also so many fun ways to get him so whiny and worked up that he can't form words at all!

but oh my god, cockwarming works SO well with them and i'm not sure how i haven't brainrot about this, i was literally spinning around my room when you left this ask LMFAO. gale is so so patient, he'd be able to drag it out for so long, and they'd use it both as discipline but also as something to settle john's mind when his brain just won't stop going. the ache of his jaw and the weight on his tongue would give him something else to focus on once he's done complaining, almost a form of timeout, but he still gets to be close to gale so he doesn't get worked up in the wrong way; he has something to stay tethered to.

and it would drive gale crazy, getting to watch john relax into him like that, seeing those pretty long lashes flutter against flushed cheek bones, lips getting progressively more reddened around his dick, shiny with spit. john's cheek pillowed against his thigh, arms draped over his hips, long legs folded beneath him where he's sat between gale's knees as he sinks into him, breathing shallowly through his nose. it would be such a pretty picture, he'd never get bored of seeing it.

and thigh ridingggg pleaseee it's so intrinsically john in this dog–coded verse (in general, really). while gale loves john's thighs, john definitely obsesses over gale's as well, always wanting to mouth and bite at them, leaving marks whenever gale lets him, and getting to grind down against his thigh is just another level to it, feeling the firm muscle beneath him, flushing at the way gale guides his hips with his hands. he'd probably get embarrassed if gale didn't keep his head all full of cotton with his sweet praises, and if he wasn't already so worked up before gale settled him down in his lap, but gale knows how to keep him in that headspace and make him feel good. <3

[slytherinshua]

You want soft thoughts? Here's one that's been driving me crazy for a few days lol. I watched a clip of Gwangil hugging his camera after a viewer asked for a hug and the way he went c'mere and hugged the camera absolutely melted me. Then started me down the spiraling path of, how would the members give a hug. I just know the Sangyeop would give the BEST hugs (I mean look at his arms?!?) and Wonsang would give the softest squishiest hugs. Yechan I feel would also give a very soft hug, he seems very touchy compared to the others vGwangil would maybe give a firm hug? I'm honestly not sure about him. (It is entirely possible that I just need a hug lol) I hope this also drives you crazy ahaha

HOW LUCY HUGS

genre. fluff. headcanons. established relationship. warnings. none. pairing. lucy x reader. wc. 611. a/n. KSJDKS OKAY THIS ABSOLUTELY DOES DRIVE ME CRAZY GOODBYE EVEN THINKING ABT THIS IS JUST SO SOFT IM MELTING INTO THE FLOOR RN STOP 😭😭😭 also like ty for sending smth in bcuz my inbox was like crickets 😔

SHIN YECHAN

okay definitely a soft hugger i feel like he's really into side hugs or back hugs

like he would just slip his arm around your waist and hug you gently like that

it's not very involved it's so tender but it makes it so that the hug can last for longer

yechan could just sit with you on the couch while doing something else and have his arm around your shoulder or waist and hug you like that for hours

i also feel like he's the type to grab your hands and wrap them around his shoulders if that makes sense

like he's always initiating things but almost 99% of the time it's so soft and gentle

he might squeeze your waist or hand but he's not gonna bear hug you (also cause his frame is so small he's not really built for it lol)

CHOI SANGYEOP

best bear hugs in the WORLD :(

he'll entirely wrap his arms around you from the front and give you the biggest squeeze

likes it when you lay your cheek against his cheek, he'd love to cuddle like that

and you can hear his heartbeat and the soft fabric of his shirt and it's so cozy (he's so husband material OH MY GOD)

sangyeop is definitely a cuddling while in bed enjoyer

all wrapped up under the covers with you, so close and comfortable with each other

he loves being the big spoon obviously i feel like he'd be offended if you wanted to be the big spoon lol

he's just so protector coded, he needs to have his arms around you so you can feel safe and loved!!! :(

also likes sneaking in cheek kisses hehe

CHO WONSANG

wonsang spends so much time in the studio creating masterpieces so i feel like you would give him lots of back-hugs while he's in his chair

just with your arms hung over his shoulders maybe fiddling with the collar of his shirt or his necklace or his hair <3

or he'd pull you down onto his lap and hug you like that while he still works on songs :(

everything is very soft like yechan with wonsang

you'd rest your head on his shoulder and listen to him talk about his songs or his day :(

laughing together while you're snuggled close in his lap and you can feel his chest buzz

also i know that wonsang usually spends a lot of time in very soft hoodies as his casual clothes lol he's so cute

so like hugging him while he's wearing that almost every day is so cozy :(

if he was hugging you on the couch he would 100% intertwine your legs like THATS JUST SUCH A WONSANG CODED THING TO DO??

SHIN GWANGIL

most comforting hugs ever in lucy HANDS DOWN

his voice is soft and his personality is soft and his hugs ARE SOFT

i feel like gwangil would just talk about his day with you while hugging you, face buried in the crook of your neck or resting on your shoulder

his hugs would make you feel better in an instant no matter how hard the day had been-- just being in his arms makes everything better

he also would rub your arm or back to make his hugs extra comforting TT

and he would sometimes pull back from the hug to give you a kiss too :( just a little peck on the forehead omg he's so KSJDKS

but i feel like in the morning before he leaves for work he's so casual with hugs

just a quick little pull into his chest before he leaves, but he makes sure to give you a good squeeze

↳ lucy taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @evalevaeva,, @weird-bookworm,, @seunghancore,,

@chenleszone

[oxymorayuri]

❞𝐍𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬❝

Part nine

storys masterlist. ♡♡♡

✦ Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader ✦ Warnings: none ✦ Spoiler: none

wordcount: 3064 Less than usual, but I really wanted to post :x

A/N: The song I listened to over and over again: Arabella - Arctic Monkeys I dunno, but reader, aka revolver just gives me that Arabella vibe just like in the song. I imagine our revolver is a pretty exciting woman.

tagging: @lazyninjatheorist - @sassyyassi - @cottoncandyloverrrr - @littleleelee

! ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ !

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: young-street

"Would you explain to me how I'm supposed to become friends with croco guy, please?" He throws his hands up in the air a little frantically. You cross your arms in front of your chest and look boredly at him, while you wait for the elevator.

"My goodness relax sweetie. I already have a plan. Now we just need to change your style." There is a bright clang as the elevator arrives at your floor and the door opens.

"Change my style?!" He raises his eyebrows but you ignore him and get into the elevator, grinning slyly to yourself.

You stand casually next to each other, but Ace still looks at you skeptically. His scrutinizing gaze makes you snort.

"Yeah.. can you remember what I said? I told you; to find out what the bad guys do, you have to think like a bad guy." The depth in your voice makes Ace lean towards you, but you don't budge. In fact, you turn your chest towards him.

"Of course, but what does one have to do with the other?" You take a deep breath and take your eyes off him. Your eyes wander over his collarbone, now that you're standing so close to each other you realize how tall he actually is. You somehow always forget.

Whatever suddenly has gotten into you, maybe it's the sight of his muscular chest, but somehow you feel the need to let out your playful side, and you raise a hand.

You run it along his arm to his shoulder and run your delicate fingers over the collar of his button down shirt. His shirt was a little messy and you wanted to fix it, not just because you wanted to touch Ace but because you wanted to make a point.

"you know Ace…" Your gaze goes sharply upwards and as you had already guessed, Ace had his intense gaze on your eyes.

You ignore the glint in his eyes and the flutter in your stomach, and look at his collar again.

"Sir Crocodile likes people who are like him. Not just in behavior. This guy is as shallow as he is luxurious…" You smooth the fabric on his chest with both palms and 'push' him backwards with slow steps until his back is against the wall. Slowly but surely, it's no longer about smoothing out his shirt.

You also want to have the upper hand, and here in the elevator, he is trapped with you.

Fortunately, Ace also makes it pretty easy for you. He matches your moves and walks all by himself, without even taking his eyes off you.

You grab him by the collar, not caring that you've just straightened it a second ago, and pull him down to you.

You search his eyes. He's not surprised, not nervous. No. He's obviously in a daze. His look tells you straight away that he would bark for you if you wanted him to.

You've never been the dominant one, but you enjoy yourself and love the power. After all, he's just a man and just like all the other guys, you can wrap him around your fingers with your seductive ways.

You're a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Your faces are suddenly so close, he can feel your warm breath on his skin and smell your sweet fragrance. He's so lost in your alluring charm.

You don't care how shamelessly you look at him. You would love to press your lips to his, but the moment just before that, is what will drive him crazy.

The thought and the look on Ace's face make you smirk, because you realize that he has already fallen for you madly.

Ace has already forgotten what you were talking about. He's only interested in what you're going to do to him next. He opens his mouth slightly, he wants to say something, to respond to your brash manner, but he is too captivated by you.

"What do you want to do?" His words are barely a whisper against your lips. Does he mean your plan? You don't think so.

"I want to do so many things Ace..." You tiptoe a little and your lips almost meet. You press your body against his and close the distance, allowing yourself to be this close to him. It's okay to get a little burnt by fire, right?

"But first comes work, then the pleasure…" Your fingers run playfully over the skin on the side of his neck, while Ace soaks up everything you say.

His hands have already found their place on your hips, after all you've jumped right into his arms. You've clearly offered it to him and not taking it would be foolish. His face looks absent but his hands are completely occupied as he moves up and down your waist with massaging movements and pushes your hips into his body.

"You ever heard the saying 'clothes make the man'?" Your grip tightens a little as you maintain eye contact with Ace.

You can practically hear him holding his breath as your hand guides his head towards you. But you move past his lips and put your mouth to his ear. His shallow breath tickles the back of your neck and triggers an exciting feeling inside you.

"I've often wondered how handsome you would look wearing a suit…"

You've already figured out that Ace wouldn't be able to resist, he obviously can't keep it together either. He supports your back and while you whisper so delicately in his ears, he decides to adorn your neck with kisses.

You were a little surprised when you felt his hot kisses on your sensitive skin, but that only increased the fire in you. Your body reacts on its own, making it impossible to fight the rising sensation inside you...

The closeness between you feels so natural as well as familiar. He touches you in all the right places, with just the right amount of pressure, and his teasing bites cause pleased noises to leave your lips.

The way he brings you close, together with the warm and wet lips, feels like a lover from your past life is kissing you. The two of you touch each other, almost as if you've known one another for a lifetime.

Your fingers run through his smooth hair while you hold onto his shoulder with your other hand. You're so close to dropping your panties and returning his kisses.

With your eyes closed, you fight your inner devil and pray that you soon arrive at your floor, or else you'll let him take you right here in the elevator.

Ace obviously seems like he wouldn't mind, he'd probably grab you by the thighs and pull you up. Damn, your thoughts are making it difficult for you...

His hand runs gently over your stomach, up to your breast and massages it, drawing more joyful sounds from your throat.

Redemption arrives as the elevator makes the familiar noise and you pull away from Ace as the door opens. Ace audibly draws in his breath and still seems a little lightheaded.

He misses your warmth immediately on his skin.

You have already left the elevator and Ace is still struggling to collect himself. You giggle at the sight and he shakes his head, stopping the door that was about to close again.

After he stepped next to you, he cleared his throat into his fist.

"What were we talking about again?" - "We were talking about your makeover." You giggle into your hand and then cross your arms behind your back.

"What I was trying to imply earlier was, that you should adapt to Sir Crocodile and his people. You should pretend to have the same interests and dress like a businessman."

You realize that Ace is listening to you but still looks a little absently into the distance, as you walk down the corridor to your room. You watch his body language and your gaze wanders down his side.

Your breath catches for a moment and you have to suppress a smirk as you notice the bulge in his pants.

"Ah okay, sure…" he says, as if he's somewhere else with his thoughts. He's probably imagining the end of your little elevator makeout.

The rest of your evening is rather unspectacular. You were kind of hoping that Ace would make a move on you, but after dinner you just fell asleep while he spooned you. Maybe he's waiting for you to make the first move?

Like fire and flame, you quickly go through the clothing racks in a noble boutique and grab one piece of clothing after the other and throw it on Ace's arm.

He curiously goes through the shirts and pants. The fabric feels expensive and on the inside he is alarmed at how much money you want to spend here. This only tells him again that Whitebeard must have given you an enormous sum.

After you've checked out almost every corner of the store, you let him try on what felt like 10 different outfits. You can't decide, because he just looks good in everything. If guys like housemaid uniforms, then you definitely like guys in suits.

He straightens his collar as he looks in the mirror. Suits aren't so bad, he has to admit but your thoughts are already making plans again. Ace looks over at you through the mirror as you rack your pretty brains.

"What's got you thinking so hard?" With your hand on your chin, you look up at him.

"The bartender yesterday said that Sir Crocodile must have been invited to Doflamingo's party because Doflamingo is a VIP at the Moulin Rouge… which can only mean one thing; Sir Crocodile is the owner of the Moulin Rouge." - "Shouldn't you know that? After all, you're his wife." He grins at you arrogantly and sticks his tongue out at you. Almost offended, you turn your head to the side and don't give him a glance.

"Stop trying to make fun of me. That was just an act." - "I'm not making fun of you. I even believed you myself at one point." He said as he turned back to the mirror, looking at his very fine reflection.

Ace walked up to you and spread his arms out in front of you in a presenting motion.

"What do you say? How do I look?" You bite your lip. Damn fine. But don't tell him.

His signature grin goes surprisingly well with the outfit. How you'd love to shove him into the changing room and rip his clothes off his body. After all, you've been feeling a bit fired up since yesterday.

"Pretty good, but we don't have much time, so let's buy everything and get out of here." Even though you say it rather calmly, Ace didn't miss the look you gave him. A hungry look.

He can't help but smirk to himself. It's so obvious what you're thinking and the fact, that you're trying so hard to hide it, only makes you look even more cute in Ace's eyes. Fool yourself, you'll realize soon enough that you can no longer push your feelings aside. But don't worry, Ace is in no hurry, he'll give you plenty of time to figure it out.

On the promenade, along the harbor, you stroll around with lots of bags in your hands. It's a sunny day, the streets are full and there's something going on on every corner.

Your paths eventually led you past the Moulin Rouge, and an insignificant detail caught your eye.

There was a poster on the wall. You grab Ace by the arm and drag him to the building so you can take a closer look at the poster. While your eyes look at the sheet with a clear vision, Ace looks down at you with a questioning look.

“Don't tell me you want to apply for the job.” His voice carries some doubt but also a hint of 'I know what you're up to'.

The poster is a job opening for female waitresses.

“All right, then I won't tell you anything!” you say somewhat sassily and rip the poster off the wall. It would be better if you reduced the number of applicants, to increase your chances of getting the job and put the poster in your bag.

You ignore Ace's sigh as you straighten your hair and check your appearance in the reflection of the mirrored glass door.

“How do I look?” you ask with a charming smile. Ace is eyeing your body from head to toe before he leans in for a better angle.

He holds his fingers to his chin thoughtfully, examining your face for even the slightest flaw. You roll your eyes while he gets uncomfortably close to your face. Satisfied, the black haired man leans back again and grins broadly.

“Incredibly gorgeous as always!” he says with a happy expression, giving you the thumbs up.

You roll your eyes again, but this time with a little smile. His freckled face sometimes makes you want to jump on him, especially when he looks at you like that... but you don't allow your thoughts to show on the outside and remain calm.

“Wait over there.” You point to a public seating area at the harbor, with a view of the sea, before turning around and entering the Moulin Rouge.

Without Ace really being able to say anything, you have already disappeared and Ace sits down at the said place.

You didn't make any dismissive remarks about his compliment, but you can't call that progress, can you?

Ace wonders what exactly you are up to. He will probably have to wait a little longer until you tell him.

On several occasions, he has noticed that you are a typical lone wolf. Of course, you can make use of Ace, but you are the one who usually finds out everything or dictates how things are done.

You don't give him much say in how things are done, but he does as he is told. So far, everything has been going great and he has no doubt that this will change, but he thinks it's a shame that you do most of the work yourself.

With his arms stretched out on the back of the bench, a smile spreads across his lips. Who would have thought, that he yearns to be needed by you?

You truly are amazing, what guy wouldn't want to be at the side of such exciting woman? He is determined to be as useful to you as possible, even if that means making friends with Crocodile.

“I got the job right away!” Ace is pulled out of his thoughts when your hands suddenly grab his shoulders from behind.

You walk up to him beaming with joy. You are more than pleased that you had such an easy encounter with the hosts of the Moulin Rouge

As soon as you arrived back at the hotel room, there was a knock at the door.

Through the peephole, you can see the figure of the bartender from the other night. You take a deep breath and put on your mask. With a practiced fake smile, you open the door to the woman.

Her message was quite a relief and it seems that her friend, the new accessory of Sir Crocodile, isn't his companion for the event.

You close the door behind you and wait a moment until the woman is gone, then you jump up and down with joy.

Ace, who has just come out of the bathroom, seems a little confused as he rubs his hair dry, but he enjoys your high spirits and grins unknowingly. With your mind so focused on your plans, you don't even notice that Ace is standing in front of you in a towel.

After you have eaten the food, delivered by room service, you get back to work and take out your notebook. You have marked the days on your calendar when you are supposed to work at the Moulin Rouge.

Ace, who is still not finished with his hundreds of dishes, is, as always, immensely interested in your work and leans over so that he can see your pages.

“You're not working for another four days. What are we going to do until then?” It doesn't even bother you that a few crumbs of food fly across the pages while Ace is talking, instead you nonchalantly brush them away with your hand.

“Well… carry on with the other plan, what else?” you raise your hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

From Ace's eyes you can tell that he seems to have forgotten what your original plan was. Getting a job at the Moulin Rouge is a nice extra, but you're not exactly keen on facing Sir Crocodile.

You're quite happy that you have Ace. Ace seems to remember and mumbles an incomprehensible 'Ah, yes…'. He has no idea how to talk to Crocodile or what to talk about let alone how to act.

He just hopes it won't be a disaster. Ace is not usually a man who thinks things through in a systematic way… he just goes for it and so far it has always worked.

You close your book with a dull thud and stand up, stretching your back. You crawl tiredly into bed and snuggle under the covers.

With a satisfied moan, you close your eyes. The next few days will be very quiet for you and Ace will probably do most of the work.

Even though you will always be close to him, you secretly make plans to lounge in the sun by the hotel pool, sipping drinks and enjoying your free time, while Ace gets closer to Sir Crocodile at the casino.

With pleasant thoughts of a few days enjoying the hotel's wellness facilities, you fall asleep happily.

I love the part in the elevator and I hate myself a little that it came to an end… but it had to be :x

I hope you enjoyed it ♡

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