#the money angle could be true

[uncertainty5]

My thoughts on the Watcher drama youtube controversy

lol. lmao

[suashii]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒲𝒜𝒩𝒟𝐸𝑅𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝐸𝒴𝐸𝒮 — attractive things they do

info ⭑  includes: itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, oliver aiku, mikage reo, michael kaiser, yukimiya kenyu ﾉ suggestive bordering nsfw (minors do not interact) ﾉ all character written 19+  

₊˚ପ⊹ RIN guides you by your waist. when you’re playing around and purposely blocking his path, his arms stretch out to take a hold of you before effortlessly reversing your positions with the click of his tongue and an easy, lazy smirk. it’s also one of the few physical actions he’ll display in public, preferring it over holding hands or slinging an arm around your shoulders. he can see you this way, keep you in his sights. when you’re not paying any mind to your surroundings and nearly walk into traffic, he pulls you into him and gives you a squeeze, leaning down to whisper “be careful” against your skin. you jump at his touch and the feel of his breath tickling your ear, cheeks burning with the reminder of where his hands were roaming and exploring the night before.

₊˚ପ⊹ SHIDOU walks around the apartment in sweatpants that hang incredibly low on his hips. your focus shifts from the pot of water you’re waiting to boil to ryusei as he pads into the kitchen after finishing his shower. beads of water drip from his hair onto his bare chest and roll down his tanned skin until they reach his v-line. you don’t realize the water on the stove has come to a boil until shidou clears his throat, jerking his head at the stove. “you’re staring real hard, pretty,” he drawls with a lazy grin. it only takes a few strides for him to close the gap between the two of you. his hands grip the counter on either side of you, trapping you in place as fuchsia eyes filled with mischief stare down at your figure. “something more you wanna see?”

₊˚ପ⊹ OLIVER intently stares at your lips whenever you’re talking. to be fair, each conversation starts with his eyes on yours but they always happen to drift down to your mouth. he takes in their natural pout and the subtle shine that your chapstick leaves behind on them. eventually, his mind begins to wander. he thinks about how soft they would feel sucking hickeys onto the pulse of his neck and across his collarbone or wrapped around the head of his—"are you even listening?“ you ask with crossed arms, the corners of your lips turnings down in a frown. "of course i am,” he tells you, finally dragging his gaze up to your eyes. “i just hear you better this way, that’s all.”

₊˚ପ⊹ REO puts his hands over yours every time you reach for your wallet to pay. he can feel the way your fingers wriggle beneath his palm, but he ignores the movement, intertwining his fingers with yours while he pulls out his card and hands it to the cashier. he’s got more money to his name than he knows what to do with, so it only makes sense for him to spoil you. he might smile and breathe out a laugh when you slap his shoulder and frown, sulking about how you feel bad for spending all his money, but he hears you. if you really feel like paying him back, he can think of a couple of ways you could do so—some that are better suited taking place in the bedroom.

₊˚ପ⊹ KAISER tilts your chin up with his finger whenever you refuse to look at him. it shouldn’t surprise you, seeing him offer fans smiles and hugs, but you can’t help but think about it when the two of you are taking your leave. “are you seriously mad?” he asks from beside you, and it wouldn’t have upset you if he didn’t laugh like it was unreasonable. you scoff and roll your eyes but before you’re able to make it any closer to the door, you’re being tugged back. all too suddenly, kaiser is in front of you, his hooked finger angling your head up and forcing you to meet his azure gaze. “you know i only have eyes for you, right?” he murmurs, like his words are meant for you and you alone. he’ll show you that his statement holds true when you get home.

₊˚ପ⊹ YUKIMIYA uses the bottom of his shirt to wipe away his sweat. on the occasion that you accompany him to a weekend practice or individual workout, you tend to look out for it. after the intense training when he’s cooling down, you watch attentively as he drags the hem of his shirt across his upper lip to collect the beads of perspiration. the motion leaves his abdomen exposed, putting the defined lines of his abs and the trail of dark hair peeking out from his shorts on display. your staring isn’t as discreet as you think it is but yukimiya doesn’t mind it. even after he catches you gawking, he keeps his shirt pulled up so as to not interrupt your view. when finally do look up at him, he’s peering at you over his glasses, tongue running along his lower lip.

hey! it's manon :3 ! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

[jarofstyles]

Leather & Lace 3

Hi loves! This is the last official part of leather and lace but I’m open to doing some one shots and blurbs for them if you want (send requests for what you’d want to see)

Leather & Lace Masterlist

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WC- 6.3k

Warnings- smut, unprotected sex, soft dom H, slight degradation, praise kink, impact play, light choking, etc all the good stuff.

Y/N padded out of his bedroom with his shirt hanging down on her form. Standing in his kitchen, he placed the glass down with a clink, watching her as she came closer. Glasses on her nose, makeup freshly off, hair tossed on top of her head, and something in her hand. “There she is.” He smiled, leaning against the corner of his countertops. “Took a minute didn’t you? Cinnamon rolls are almost done”. The stock he kept in his fridge for her favorite treat was put to use tonight. 

“Amazing.” She beamed, coming up to him. “Sit on the stool, please. I brought a makeup wipe so I can get your eyeliner off, cause I know you’re gonna whine that you’re tired later and then you’ll whine when you get a stye.” Y/N had been through this before a million times. 

“Always thinking ahead, aren’t you Butterfly?” He laughed, tapping her nose with his fingertip and not bothering to argue. It was true. He would definitely do that, and it wouldn’t be the first or last time he did. “Alright. Be gentle with me please, m’delicate”. 

Closing his eyes, he felt her warm fingers angle his face where she wanted before the cool wipe made contact with his skin. 

“So delicate with your bruised and split knuckles, hm? What did the poor punching bag do to you this week? Does he owe you money?” One of his favorite things about Y/N since day one had been her banter. They could go back and forth and she was quick to respond. It was playful, always, but she did tend to get more out of him when she approached it this way. She was asking why he’d been upset this week and been hitting the bag so aggressively and without gloves. 

Considering they had just made it official 2 hours ago, she was the best girlfriend ever. She wouldn’t push if he didn’t want to say it and he knew the girl would just nod and move on if he said he didn’t want to talk about it, but he found himself wanting to spill every single thought that crossed his mind to her. Y/N just didn’t have a clue. 

“Mm. My father called me.” He said softly into the cinnamon scented air. The sweetness made the bitter notes of his words a bit easier to tolerate. “Just same old shit, y’know? Nothing I do is gonna be good enough. Even though I’m successful in my own right, he’s always got to add those digs in.” The tumultuous relationship between Harry and his father had always been a sore spot. They weren’t enemies and he didn’t hate him, no, but their relationship had been rocky since Harry had gone to uni and not followed in his footsteps. He tried to be supportive in his own way but it was obvious that he disapproved.

Even though he was a grown man and he had plenty of other people proud of him, it always stung. “Sucks sometimes, that I want his approval. It’s the tiniest bit in me, a speck, but I can always feel it when I talk to him. It’s been a few years since the whole blowout and it’s gotten better but I just have to get over it, I guess. I don’t think he ever will.” Even though his sister had done what he wanted Harry to do, it wasn’t the same in his eyes. 

“I can only imagine.” There was a delicate pause as she got underneath his waterline. “But it’s okay to be upset about it, you know?” She always tried to tread lightly while also being truthful. It was a sensitive subject and the girl knew it. “He’s your dad. It’s going to bother you because we’re literally wired to want our parents' acceptance. It’s human nature.” Gentle swiping over his eyes got the pencil liner off, but she was thorough with it. Besides, she had a feeling he’d prefer his eyes closed for this sort of talk.  “I’m sorry that it’s like that for you, H. I know my words won’t replace his but I’m extremely proud of you and all you’ve done. Hopefully he’ll come around and see all that the rest of us do but… if he doesn’t? That’s a him problem.” 

Harry didn’t know how she managed to always say the right things. The knot in his throat shrunk from the comfort she gave him, her tender handling of both his physical being and his heart. This was the reason he wanted more with her. Almost anyone could get him to nut off, but not a single other person made his heart feel like this. Just as she’d said earlier, he felt completely safe with her in a way he didn’t even know he needed. Before her, he hadn’t realized how uncomfortable he was around people, but she showed him a brand new point of view. 

In the past, he’d opened himself up slightly to one girl. One girl who had used him and fucked his best mate, who he caught in the act. It had walled up the rest of his emotions in iron, not wanting even a crack to get into him because why would he? He’d never thought she or he would do that to him, never had any suspicion until about a month before when he saw glances across the room- but it turned out it wasn’t just his birthday outing they’d been planning. 

Then this girl had come along with her warmth and rusted the iron, getting it worn and cracked until there was a Y/N shaped hole for her to fill. She was understanding of his somewhat snarky nature, never took it personally and had stuck by him even when he’d tried to push her away. 

There had only been one time when he had been somewhat successful and it made his stomach twist and chest ache when he thought about it. It was far earlier on In their friendship, a few weeks in actually. She’d caught him on a bad day, coming up to him outside with her chatterbox open and running asking if he wanted to go to the cafe with him and that she had a surprise- and he’d snapped at her. He’d been rougher with his words than he meant to, honest, but he wanted to be alone and said as much in a not as nice manner. He’d watched her shoulders drop and the sparkle quite literally leave her eye as she looked towards the ground with a nod as even then when he least deserved it, she tried to be understanding.

 Something in him cracked when he heard the slight quiver in her voice when she apologized for being annoying and he’d looked up to see tears in those eyes and… fuck. His stomach dropped to his feet, watching her bottom lip quiver as she reached into her bag and grabbed the candy bar she’d grabbed from the vending machine after her class had ended, handing it to him before she scurried off. It was clear she hadn’t been tearing up for attention from how quickly she had left him, and with a candy bar in hand he felt completely nauseous over how he’d treated her. 

He couldn’t shake the feeling even as he gathered his things and called out for her, throat thick as his bad day got worse only by his own accord. Her lack of presence was felt, coldness settling in his bones when he realized what he’d truly done. It was then that he vowed to never treat her like that again. Y/N had been the sweetest thing in the world to him, got him his fucking favorite candy and was excited to study with him and he’d gone and fucked it all up. Made her fucking cry. She’d been long gone by the time he stumbled back into the pathway but he was already trying to make it right.

In the end he had showed up at her door with a teddy bear in hand along with her favorite candy and some take away, feeling like a kicked puppy as she opened her door and he had seen her swollen eyes and lips. It had been the most heartbreaking thing he ever saw and he apologize profusely when she let him in even when he didn’t deserve it, hugging her on his own accord for the first time and running fingers through her hair as she insisted she forgave him. ‘Everyone has those days and I’m sensitive, I know.’ Is what she said. 

Some days even still he thought about that as he watched people take advantage of her and it made him even more motivated to take care of her. 

In these sort of moments it felt hard not to think about loving her. Even in his rough and tumble sort of persona, she treated him tenderly. Held his arm, brushed his hair back, fixed his tangled necklaces, Y/N had treated him with a delicacy that he didn’t know he needed. 

As soon as the makeup wipe was pulled away, he opened his eyes and cupped her cheek to pull her in for a kiss. It had already been hard to keep his lips to himself, but this situation… it was his new obsession. “You know you’re perfect, right?” He asked against his current addiction, pressing another kiss to them. “Just… I dunno how you always know how to say the right shit. It scares me sometimes, y’know? Sometimes it feels too good to be true, that you… that you’re some sorta dream, but you’re not. And now you’ve told me you’re mine, and M’really fucking nervous about fucking it up but I’m going to do everything I can to be the best for you. Alright?” 

The emotion had slipped off his tongue without his permission but for one of the first times in his life he didn’t regret it. Her lips curled against his in that breathtaking smile he adored, tossing the wipe to the side as she wrapped an arm around his neck. “Harry… I don’t expect perfection. I know relationships… they take time to build. You aren’t some sort of build-a-boyfriend to me. I like you because you’re you. I like the grumpy, sarcastic, scowly bits of you. I always have. You’ll fuck up, I’ll fuck up, it’ll be a whole thing and then guess what?” Pulling back, she took in his face with her soft gaze. “We’ll fix it up again and it’ll be stronger. As long as you don’t cheat on me? I’m yours. And we both know you really aren’t capable of that.”

Harry would rather saw his hand off than cheat. He’d seen what it had done to him, so putting anyone else through that would be disgusting on top of hating the concept to begin with. He’d cut off people he knew for cheating on their partners and wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. “M’glad you know.” He sighed. In a weird way, this talk was making him aroused. Hearing how she liked him, that she knew they’d work, it just… it did something to him. “You look perfect in my clothes.” That too. Yeah, that had something to do with the thickening happening in his pants.

“I like wearing them. I always have. I’ve had a bit of a crush on you for a while, you know.” She teased, leaning into his body and letting her tits press up against him as she kissed his jaw lightly. “It always made me feel like yours when you let me wear them.” 

“You’ve been mine.” The dark grumble of his voice was a telltale sign that the words had pleased him. “Regardless of title, you’ve been mine for a while.” It was true and the both of them knew it. Harry’s eyes had been blind to anything but her for a long time and it had been painfully obvious when he hadn’t been able to get it up for other people not too long after meeting her.  Or had to think about her in order to nut off. 

“I know.” The confirmation was warm as she felt his hand travel down to rest above her ass. “And I was hoping you’d been mine for a bit but I’m pretty sure I was. You like to talk when you’re getting head, huh?” The smile was teasing and maybe he should be flushed at that but it was just another layer of arousal for him to remember her on her knees with his cock tucked between puffy lips and drool down her pretty chin. 

“No, actually. Jus’ with you.” He said truthfully. “I was… more of a hit it and quit it with the other people if m’honest. Know I babbled a bit but it felt really fucking good.” They could both feel he was hard now and the awkwardness of the last encounter on his end was gone. “Never expected you to be filthy, though. Thought you’d be a bit more shy but… I like that you were gagging for it just as much as I was.” Over the fabric of his shirt he gripped her ass, a nice handful as he squeezed and watched her eyes flutter shut at the feeling. “I can’t wait to get my hands on you properly. I’ve been dying to taste you,’to feel you. But I need t’know what you like.” 

“A bit of leather and lace.” Was the answer. Long lashed eyes peered up at him as she tipped her head back to look at him. “Sweet and spice. Nice and mean. Be sweet to me and call me a slut again. Spank me and kiss it better. That’s what… it’s what I’ve always imagined with you.” Her words were slightly more hesitant now but she didn’t back down. “You can be a little rough with me as long as you baby me later. I’ve never been…” she paused for a moment as she bit her lip. “I’ve never been fucked right. People treat me like I’m some delicate little toy which, I can be and I like sometimes but… I’ve always known you’d be able to give me the deep one I want. The type to make me lose my breath. Right?” Her fingers curled around his wrist that still rested on her cheek and trailed it down to have his hand rest against her throat. “You can throw me around a bit and make me take it. I can still be a doll for you, but maybe one you use a little bit.” 

Jesus fucking Christ. 

Harry’s mouth was torn between being dryer than the desert and watering down his chin at her descriptors of what she wanted. His hands held her ass and her throat and she was handing herself over on a silver platter as his cock twitched in between them, eager to get to work on her. “Fuck me…” he whispered hoarsely, thumbing over the side of her neck before giving a tiny squeeze. Just a bit, watching her face as he did so. She melted almost immediately and it was then he got the confirmation that she'd been hand crafted for him. Eyes glazed over and a weak, precious whine escaping her mouth and vibrating against the hand covering her throat, he couldn’t hold himself back from kissing her hard. Gathering her as close as possible with his hand keeping its grip for half the kiss before releasing it and using it as a guide to keep her close. “You’re going to ruin me, and M’gonna love every fucking second of it.” 

—-

It had happened quite quickly. The buzz of the oven interrupted them, the only reason Harry even slightly entertained it was so he didn’t burn the place down. He had been quick to toss them on the counter and lost the oven not before picking her up and bringing her into his bedroom. 

“If I died right now, I’d be okay.” He whispered as he looked at her bare cunt. The panties had been discarded and his lips kissed her inner thighs, nosing over the sensitive skin and watching her react to him. “You’re so gorgeous. Smell so fucking good, Butterfly. Gonna have t’tear me away from this pussy.” It was not a joke. 

Kissing over the mound, he spread her open and gave a long lick over the expanse of her slight and yeah- yeah. He was addicted. Licking deeper into her, he felt himself melt into a frenzied version of himself as he let his tongue explore her. Fingers buried in his hair as she gripped him, stomach jumping as she panted at the feeling of his mouth on her. 

Harry had enjoyed giving head before, was no stranger to eating pussy, but this was different. There had never been this all encompassing need to make her cum over and over again on his tongue, that greed that settled in his gut as he heard her moan his name and spread her legs further for him. Welcoming him and his touch. 

He didn’t hold back. Y/N had told him what she wanted and he knew her well enough now to understand. 

“Sweet.” He mumbled against her. “So fuckin’ sweet. Course you are, Butterfly. Fuckin’ perfect, every inch.” Kissing her clit he felt her jump, chuckling as he did it again before licking over the sensitive pearl. “M’gonna make you cum on my tongue, and then M’gonna give you the fuck you needed. I’ll be so nice to you, baby. So sweet, get you nice and fucked out the way you need. Promise.” 

Harry was going to fulfill that promise. Wrapping his lips around her clit, he gave soft, pulsing suckles as he slipped a finger inside of her and felt her hips buck off the bed. 

It was only a introduction, a sneak peek of what he’d feel around his cock but he had to remind himself not to blow too early as he felt her clenched around his digit. Tight and hot and silky against his hand, he groaned against her cunt and nuzzled deeper into it as he settled in. 

“H-Harry… oh my god.” She sighed out, slowly grinding against his face. “Oh my god, you… you’re so good at this. I’ve never….” Never came from this, which was something that pissed him off when he put the pieces together but he knew he’d wear the title of the first one to be successful proudly. Ideally, no one else would ever have it again. He had no plans on giving this obsession up. 

He hummed against her, meeting her eyes as she looked down at him with her messy hair and her bitten lips, mouth opened in the cutest little ‘o’ shape and her brows furrowed. Her clit was throbbing against his tongue and he couldn’t get enough, sucking a bit harder as he added a second finger inside of her. 

“Oh fuck, oh- just like that. Your fingers are big.” She whimpered, making him chuckle against her. Of course they were compared to her own. He had imagined that exact thing in this bed, imagining her in her own room with her fingers stuffed inside her drippy cunt and his name peeling off hers lips as she made herself orgasm. 

Making himself pull back, he fucked his fingers into her and enjoyed every bit of the noise it made. He’d made her wet like this, he’d gotten her to be a sopping mess and he enjoyed every single second of feeling it on his fingertips. “I know, baby. But my cock is much bigger and I need to get you prepped for it. You’re plenty wet…” he purred, leaning over her and keeping her eyes as he pursed his lips and spit right over her clit. “Just need to make you cum and you’ll be nice n’ready for me.” 

There wasn’t a hint of hesitation as he went back in, spreading his spit with his tongue before returning to his motions. He could feel it in her actions, how she clenched around his fingers, pulling her clit into his mouth over and over again as she got more and more wet around his fingers with difficulty not bucking into him. 

“I want it, I need it. I’ve been thinking a-about it for so long. I need you to fuck me, H.” Her voice was different than he’d ever heard it. More whiny, a tinge of desperation to the sweet sound he was obsessed with, and every bit of hot as he knew it would be. 

“I will, baby. Promise. Jus’ let go for me. I can feel you’re close.” He coaxed, curling his fingers just so and watching as her head fell back against the duvet as his lips continued the pull of her clit. 

It was hotter than he could’ve imagined. When she came a few minutes later, he watched her hand grip his hair and the other her own breast as she let out the prettiest noises and whines of his name as she trembled, hips bucking again into his mouth as she tumbled over the edge.

He held her steady with a happy noise, pulling off her clit with one last soft suckle and a kiss but kept his fingers inside of her as he moved back up her body to kiss her mouth. She welcomed it, both hands grabbing his face and not minding the mess she made on his chin and nose from his healthy exploration of her. Mumbled of praised were echoed between their kisses, slow pumps of his fingers working her through the orgasm as she rocked her hips into his hand. 

“Harry, I need it.” Her eyes met his. “I’m clean, I just- I need it, I need you inside me now.” Her neediness wasn’t something he’d been privy to before and it was more than satisfying, but he had to admit that what made him feel even better was knowing she wanted to go bare. He’d

Gotten tested just a few weeks ago at his appointment which was a bit of serendipity, he supposed, because now he was going to get what he had been stroking off to the most. 

“Yeah? Y’sure?” He whispered, watching her nod as he slowly pulled his fingers from her cunt and quickly cupped over it, soothing her. “You’re a dream. Y’know that, baby?” A laugh of disbelief echoed from his chest as he slowly pulled his hand back and slipped his pants off. His shirt had been tossed in the midst of things and he wanted hers off too, even if the idea of fucking her in his tee shirt was appealing. Later. 

She was receptive to it, letting him tug it off and exposing her to him again. 

He had to take a moment to simply enjoy her. 

Harry had always appreciated how beautiful she was but he also had to take a second to be thankful that she let him see her at her most vulnerable. That he got to see her in the most delicate state, one he was going to be the only one to see. Spread thighs and bare tits and soft tummy, all his. His, his, his. 

“M’so happy you’re mine.” He whispered, running a hand over her stomach as his other fisted his cock. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Not jus’ your body but your whole being. And I hope you know how much it means t’me that you’re letting me be yours too.” It hit him then, watching her peer up at him. He was being entrusted with a damn near golden heart and there were no plans on doing anything but cherishing it. 

“H…” she whispered, motioning him to come to her. He did, as he always will, buttoning their lips together as he nudged his tip through her wet slit and felt her sigh, wrapping her legs around his hips. “You are perfect. I adore you and- and I’m happy you’re letting me be yours too. You make me feel so good in all the ways possible and I just want to be as close as I can get.” 

There was no room left for debate. 

He began to push into her, watching her face as he filled her. It was slow at first, letting himself pace themselves considering he knew very early on that this would have to be a multiple round night because there was no way he’d be satisfied with just one. Y/N had been the object of his affections for a long while now and finally getting to be with her in the way he’d craved had lit him up. 

“There we are…” he whispered as he was fully inside of her. “You feel so good on me, Butterfly.” A kiss pressed to her lips, slow rocking into her for the beginning of this. The man fully intended to give her what she wanted but the first few moments would be tender and soft, show a true appreciation of her. The soft yellow light of his lamp next to his bed lit up the side of her face, shadows across the other side. Her hand held his bicep and the other on the back of his neck as she let out a shuddering breath, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed kisses all over her face.

It was a high, feeling her heat on him. She was everywhere, capturing every bit of him yet again. Tugging him deeper into a trap he had no plans on escaping from. The slow rocking of their hips garnered a hitch in her breath, still sensitive from her orgasm moments ago but taking in every moment she could. Every second felt special and precious. 

“You don’t even know….” He breathed. “Don’t even know how much I think about this. Made me feel like a perv for a bit, seeing you in my shirt last week… then you crawled into my lap and you ruined me.” It was hard to keep it from spilling out.  “I couldn’t run anymore from how you m-make me feel. And then y’put your mouth on me, near begged to, made me feel fucking crazy. I’ve been waiting all week to get my hands on you again… but this is the best day.” The fact that she was officially his and she was holding on to him, letting out a sweet sigh as he began to pull out the slightest bit and pushed back in. 

“I thought about it too.” She admitted, though it felt hard to talk. “I wanted this and-and I wanted you and m’so happy right now.” Her eyes watered a bit and fuck, fuck, fuck.  He cooed, shaking his head as he kissed her again. His sweet girl, crying because she had wanted him just as much as he had wanted her. 

“M’yours, Butterfly. All yours, and… M’not gonna let you go. Promise. You can have me as many times, as many days, as you want.” The man doubted that she’d ever truly understand how much this meant to him, how much she meant to him. That she’d look past his shitty attitude and stuck by him long enough to see the real parts, the softer ones. Hell, she made him want a relationship when he had never thought he’d want one again.

Harry was unequivocally hers, body and heart.

It stayed slow for a while, deep kisses and soft moans, but he could feel her start to get restless. He was very aware of part of his appeal to her- the rough and tumble. So when he felt her start to squirm, he took her throat again and held her back down, keeping his slow pumps as he watched her eyes hood and a soft mewl fall from her lips as she clenched around his cock. “Impatient girl. You’re tryin’ to rush me, hm?” He whispered, squeezing the sides of her throat momentarily. “I told you I’d fuck you right. But I wanted to appreciate you, make you feel how much I adore you. Is that not enough for my girl?” 

Y/N shook her head, panting as her legs tightened around his waist. “M’sorry.  I’m not trying to rush you, promise. I just feel so good n’I want more.” 

“Of course she does. Pretty little doll wants some more.” He crooned, clicking his tongue. “Being stuffed to the brim and stretching that tiny cunt isn’t enough for you. You told me about this, warned me. Told me you liked a bit of both.” Pulling out a bit more, he slid back in with a bit of force that caught her breath. “So you’re tired of being my sweet girl… you want to be a whore?”

There was something about the delicacy in the way he said it, the way it was silky and smooth and so unlike how the word would usually be delivered that had her moaning out loud. He was so, so nice to her and she loved it but it was clear she needed some more. Thankfully she had come to the right place. 

“Okay, okay. You want t’be a cute little slut. I see how it is, my darling.” He grinned, containing the slightly rougher pace. “Jus’ let me look at this gorgeous face a bit longer, and then I’ll flip you on your hands and knees so you can bury your face into the bed while I make you cum.” 

Harry had a hard time controlling himself knowing that she wanted to be roughed up. His angelic Y/N, wanted to be pounded out into the mattress. The original thought was that he’d have to work her up to that and see if she liked it, maybe a spank or two, but here she was. Gushing on her cock from the mere mention of being fucked harder. 

“Do you want me to spank that pretty ass?” He questioned, listening to the squelch of her cunt with each pass inside of her. His personal heaven. “Make it hot? How much do you want, Butterfly?” 

“I want anything.” She promised. “Please spank me and- and choke. I want to feel it tomorrow.” It was apparent now that she really did crave it, bucking into his thrusts and getting wetter the harder he got. He was going to have such a good time learning her body. How it ticked, what got her off, what made her squirm. It was a whole new facet to their relationship that he was giddy to explore. 

“I’ll give you anything you want, my gorgeous girl.” He promised. “Make the prettiest fuck doll out of you.” 

Harry kept his promise. 

Y/N squealed as he pulled out, flipping her over and hissed at his hands spreading each side of her ass open. “Look at you… you piece of art.” He sighed. “M’gonna mark this canvas up. Never imagined bruising you before but… what my girl wants, she gets.”

The first spank was a quick one, making her yelp as he stuffed himself back into her needy hole. It was exposing her, letting him have access to her cunt and ass and it was obviously exhilarating from how she clenched before pushing back into him for more. “You liked it.” The man smirked, squeezing the soft flesh in his hands. “We’re going to get on perfectly in the bedroom, aren’t we Butterfly?” 

From there, Harry let loose. Keeping a hand on her hip and the other holding her ass, giving swats to the skin as he fucked into her deep and thorough. He watched in awe as her ass rippled every time it met his thighs, the sound of skin slapping and her whimpers filling his bedroom. Her cunt was hot and so fucking wet he was surprised he hadn’t slipped out yet, creamy and soft but keeping him in tight. 

He’s heard Y/N babble before, but all she could come up with was whimpers and whines of his name, more, and again when he smacked the round of her ass. It was unexpected, but he was eating up every single movement, every noise she squeaked out. It felt incredible to know he was the one doing it. He had been the one to make her lose that soft shell and got deep into the underbelly, literally and metaphorically, burying deep inside of her with each tuck. “That’s my girl, taking it so well. I adore you, y’know that?” He cooed. “Love this hot cunt. Think M’gonna stay inside of it for a while, what do you think?” There was no answer but a punched out breath from his cock. “Mmm… I think so too. You did say you wanted t’be my whore.” The tone was slightly condescending but it was evident quickly that she reacted well to that. 

For all the time he’d been thinking about this, reality was much sweeter. With her taste on his tongue and her arousal smeared all over his cock and forming a creamy ring around the base of his cock with each squelching fuck into her needy and willing hole, he couldn’t have imagined something better. Something so unfiltered and raw, going bare inside his candy sweet girl who had overtaken his life. 

What really set her off, though, was his fingers tucking under her and finger her slippery and swollen clit, rubbing over it firmly, she moaned loud and clear, panting into the air as she clumsily grabbed his wrist as if to keep it there. Like he’d pull it away. “I see it baby, I feel it. You jus’ needed that clit played with. You’re gonna cum for me.” He breathed in an amazed chuckle. “Gonna cum all over my cock so I can fill you to the brim and keep you full and warm.” 

Y/N didn’t need much more than that. His cock in her tummy and his fingers at her clit, ass burning slightly from his swats. He felt it the moment it began, the fluttering around his prick and her hitch of breath as she got his name falling from her mouth and the slight tense of her body before she fell apart on him.

The prettiest sight he’d ever seen in his life. It was then that he swore he’d do his best to see it as many times as he possibly could, which would be a blessing or a curse depending on what the girl underneath him thought of overstimulation. 

Which was why even as he growled out, spilling into the perfect cunt that milked him, he kept thrusting. Slow and sloppy now, feeling his load dripping from her and onto the bed, he continued with his fingers on her clit as she squirmed. His cock fucked the cum right into her, massaging it into her walls as he kissed her skin. “‘Nother one. Gimme another one, my baby. Show me how much y’love being my sweet little whore.”

The sensitivity was probably to blame with how fast the second one came, shaking slightly as she let out the weakest whine of his name before pushing his hand away. Even though he could’ve done it over and over, he hummed and listened to her cue, turning them onto their sides and kept himself snug inside of her. He’d clean her up in a bit, bring her to the shower, make sure she was fed her cinnamon rolls, but for a little bit he wanted to bask in the bliss of having a dream come true. 

“S’okay, Butterfly. I’ve got you.” He nudged his nose against her neck, placing another chaste kiss there as she folded their fingers together. “Now you can fly home to me.” 

—-

It was far too late for cinnamon rolls if a normal person had any say, but thankfully they didn’t. Y/N sat on the counter with her hair placed back into that messy updo and his shirt on her torso while he had been convinced to wear his boxers while in the kitchen, dipping the microwave reheated cinnamon rolls in the icing. 

“I’ve got to teach you how to make them from scratch.” His girl sighed, kicking her feet as they dangled off the counter. 

“What, is my store bought hot food enough for you?” He pouted in faux offense, but luckily she didn’t fall for it. 

“You know that’s not the case. I love that you buy me some to have when I’m here.” A sugary kiss was given to his bottom lip, but she pulled away too fast to deepen it. A shame if you asked him. “It’s just, y’know, it would be fun to do together. There’s plenty of time to… hang out while the dough rises, and stuff like that.” 

Harry’s brows shot up at the insinuation, the unexpected laugh barking through the kitchen as he lowers his half ripped cinnamon roll to the plate. “I’ve created a little monster, haven’t I?” The shit eating from on his face showed no sign of regret, though. “One fuck and I’ve corrupted you. Sweet little thing turned into a needy pup in heat.” He paused before pointing a finger smeared with cinnamon sugar on it in her face. “Or have I just uncovered something that was in front of my face this whole time? Innocent act?” 

Y/N answered by leaning forward to take his finger into her mouth, sucking on it slowly and flicking her tongue over the tip before pulling back on it. 

There was no doubt now he’d found his perfect match, even if it was his complete opposite. Maybe they weren’t as different as he thought.

[ddarker-dreams]

play wresting — gojo satoru.

(Warning for mild not sfw implications)

“So this is it, then? I’ve finally… finally been bested.” 

From this vantage point, you tower over a certain melodramatic man, whose long limbs cover the king sized bed at awkward angles. His soft, snowy hair blends in with the stark white comforter. He tries lifting himself up, but his arms buckle from the exertion of such a physically demanding act. The feigned helplessness comes close to breaking your composure. 

“Humor a dying man’s final request,” Gojo rasps. “Did you ever love me? Or were you just after the money and status all along?” 

The term money and status reverberates in your head, taking you back to the rumors whispered behind closed doors by those opposed to your engagement. Gojo, being the person he is, delighted in playing into your supposed alternative motives whenever a ‘well-intentioned’ member of the more conservative factions tried tipping him off. 

“Babe? Did you hear that?” He had called you over once, a hand to his chest, as if he’d learned the most scandalous news. “This man here said you’re only after my assets. Is this true? I thought for sure it was my devastatingly good looks and charm that won you over.” 

(The face of the man in question went beet red over how loud Gojo spoke these words. Unsurprisingly, he slunk off at the earliest opportunity). 

You try assuming your role as the indifferent black widow here, looking down your nose at him. “Nope. I’ve been biding my time all these years.” 

You’re not sure what spurred him on to flex his acting muscles. When you entered the room, you were overcome with the urge to tackle him onto the bed. You’ve both loved roughhousing each other since you were in high school. Given the sheer, unfathomable extent of Gojo’s abilities, he was perfectly capable of dodging you or standing firm against your attempts. Alas, those two options must not have interested him. 

And so he’s writhing in faux agony, putting on a show, as he is wont to do. 

“Do I get any final requests?” 

“Hm,” you hum, fighting how desperately your lips wish to curl into a smile, “That depends. What is it?” 

Whatever he murmurs next is unintelligible. 

Curious, you step forward, urging him to repeat himself. He does. Despite speaking slightly louder, the syllables and consonants blur together, spoken in such rapid succession that your brain can’t piece it together. You draw close enough for your knees to hit the side of the bed. Whatever he’s planning, this must be the grand finale. 

This time, you understand him perfectly fine. You don’t know whether you should laugh or roll your eyes. Perhaps both. 

“Let me hit it, just one more time,” Gojo says these words as if in actual pain, successfully melting your apathetic facade. 

You can feel the satisfaction rolling off him in waves over the fact you broke first. Not willing to accept total defeat, you huff and pivot on your heels. You can feel his eyes boring into your back as you saunter toward the door. You answer the question that’s undoubtedly burning his tongue before he can speak it. 

“Consider your request denied. I need to start searching for my next rich husband — time is of the essence.” 

You gape as the once open door is now shut, faster than you could blink. In front of it is your apparently resuscitated Gojo Satoru, who acts as a human barricade. He extends his long arms out to ensure you’re not going anywhere. His grin is all teeth and his brilliant blue eyes gleam. 

“Sorry babe, this rich husband’s still alive and kicking. Better luck next time.” 

[the-californicationist]

he trims his beard

Pirate!Price/Reader

God, I want to write thirty damn chapters about Pirate!Price so badly. Someone tell me not to, please? Lol. Otherwise, y'all might be getting thirty chapters of Pirate!Price...

MDNI/18+ TW: virginity reference

Summary:

Captain John Price is king of the Seven Seas, and after he saves your life, you owe him a debt. His fee? To take you as his wife.

The Mediterranean Sea, 1708

“I just can’t…ARGH!” Price slammed his hand down on the porcelain basin as he tried to shave his chin, unable to use his right hand after the accident. 

You pitied him, but you were still terribly afraid of him. When he rescued you, you thought he had been Death riding in on his ghostly white ship. But, now that he had been with you going on a fortnight, you realized the hardened, gruff exterior was but a hard shell encasing the soft, warm center of Captain Price, leader of the Queen’s special unit of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy. 

You’d been marooned on Cassadaga Island for two days, stripped of your jewelry and purse, beaten within an inch of your life, and left for dead. Your would-be husband had planned the whole attack, hoping to cash in on the dowry money. The joke was on him. Your father had a gambling problem and had not two coins to rub together. The musket he kept above the mantle didn’t even have any gunpowder in it, you were so destitute. As soon as your fiancé found out about your lack of adequate funding, he tossed you overboard on his father’s ship. When Captain Price found you there, you were barely hanging on. 

The captain had nursed you back to health, promising to chase down the vagabond and kill him for his dishonor. He’d been true to his word, slaughtering the lot of them, but during his vengeful assault, he’d been shot through the hand with a musket. You’d cleaned the wound, and he had yelled at you for the pain. Now, you were cowering in the corner of your shared room, back to being a prisoner. 

He eyed you from his shining mirror above the basin, 

“C’mere, girl.”

You edged closer. It wasn’t quick enough for him, so he crossed the room, his black leather boots banging on the ash wood of his quarters.

“I said come here,” he growled, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you over to the wash bowl, razor in his uninjured hand. 

He let go of you, straightened himself, and sighed, fixing his harshness into a more genteel tone,

“My apologies,” the words came out of his mouth oily and practiced, not at all his natural verbiage, “Would you be so kind as to trim my beard? With my injury, and my left hand being more useless than a fuckin’ hook, I am at your mercy.”

He handed you the razor and you took it from him, 

“Yes, sir - I mean, Captain. Yes, Captain.”

You were stuttering, full of abject fear at his possible retaliation. 

As you approached his face with the razor, your hand was trembling and he noticed it. Something in him softened, his icy blue eyes melted just enough for him to hold you around your waist and gaze down at your face,

“It’s okay, pretty girl. My bark and my bite are both nasty, but I won’t harm you.”

His warm body was so close to yours, and with him leaning over you, breathing into your space, you could smell the tobacco scent that lingered in his clothes and beard. His long, braided hair was adorned with gold coins, bent and twisted into it to make little beads, and he had been caramelized by the sun. At the top of his sternum, you could see thick tufts of curly hair poking from his shirt. You tried not to stare. 

“Captain,” you asked as sweetly as you could, “Can you sit, sir, so that I may reach your cheek?”

He smiled, 

“Alright, love.”

He sat on his down mattress. The bed creaked at the addition of his familiar weight. 

At this more convenient angle, you were able to reach his face and neck, so you began your task. You applied the foam in thin layers, working gently as you went, mindful that the captain kept his blades sharp enough to cut steel twine. What you hadn’t realized was that, by requesting that he sit, he was in full, direct eye sight of your heavy breasts. They were corseted up, as was the fashion, but without your normal over-dress to cover you, your nipples ghosted through the thin chemise, hinting at little pebbles beneath the surface. He had not stopped staring at them since you began to shave him. 

You looked down while you were cleaning the blade, trying to discreetly glimpse at his growing passion, curious and fearful all at the same time. His breeches could barely contain him, and his thick phallus pressed into the join of his pants. He caught you staring, and he laughed at your rosy complexion, rolling his eyes,

“Ha! Embarrassed at your thirst, pretty girl? Surely those vagabonds did not leave you a virgin during your ordeal.” 

“They did, sir,” you admitted, returning to your work, sad at having been discovered sinning with your abject perversion. 

He made a small noise, unable to talk while you were shaving his prominent chin, careful around the curve of the bone. He liked to keep the sides long, trimming them with shears, but he always shaved his chin. You followed the razor’s line down his neck, careful not to knick his protruding Adam’s Apple. 

“Is that so?” The captain purred. 

“Yes, sir. At my fiance’s order.”

“Ah, I see.”

He was silent again, his eyes growing hungrier at the sight of you. His hands returned to your hips as the waves tossed the large vessel on the high seas. You stilled, feeling your belly flutter, wondering if it was seasickness or excitement from his newly focused touch.

“You alright, love? Bit choppy tonight. Storm’s brewin’.”

“Oh,” you nodded, finishing with his neck, “There. All finished, Captain.”

He moaned, holding your hips tighter, situating you between his open knees,

“Shame, that. I was enjoying your skillful hand, pretty girl.”

You blushed, setting the razor cleaned back in its case,

“Thank you, Captain Price. And thank you again for your rescue. I would be dead if not for your mercy. I am in your debt.”

“Aye,” the Captain eyed you slyly, “a steep debt at that. Your dowry should solve that for us. Then, you’ll be on your way. When we land in Málaga, your father can pay me.”

“Sir,” you gasped, “I don’t have one. My father took it to the game house and lost it on his cards.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you looked down at him in shame, hoping his mercy was deeper than his greed. 

“Hmm, I see. Then, perhaps you would consider a captain as your betrothed?”

You looked up at him in shock, and he was amused by your fear. He used one hand to hold you by the hip, and his other, uninjured hand delicately pulled at the silk ribbon of your bodice, aiming to free you from your painful restraints. 

“Y-y-yes…sir,” you could feel the heat on your cheeks, “My family would be most pleased with such a match.”

“Bugger your family, girl. They left you for dead. If you’re mine, you’ll be only mine. Once I have a bounty in my grasp, there’s not a man on God’s green earth who could take it from me. Does that scare you, girl? Do you want to run off home, turn to the cloth, become a nun instead?”

“No,” you shook your head, “No, sir. I owe you my life, and if it is my hand that you wish, I must oblige you.”

“I wish not your hand, love…” His tone was darkly suggestive, “Well, maybe at first.” He laughed warmly. 

It was a joke that you had missed, but you knew it was your innocence that kept you from divining its meaning. In your core, your body yearned for him. Seeing him command his men, the fiercest swords on the Seven Seas, watching him take down pirates and vagabonds like it made his heart beat in his breast, it was mystifying. His huge muscles and broad bones made his tall figure all the more imposing, and every port you landed in, women swooned over him while the men cowered in fear. Yes, you’d enjoy him as a husband. No one would ever dare lay a hand on you again. 

“What are your terms, Captain, should I accept your proposal?”

He ran a finger into the hole he had created in your leather bodice, letting you feel his warm touch through the thin fabric of your chemise. It electrified you.

“You’ll be mine, and only mine. I’ll be yours, and only yours. When I fill you with my seed, you’ll carry my children, and you’ll love them in earnest. You’ll sail with me, and learn the trade. There’s no comfortable manor house awaiting you, girl. What say you?”

“I agree to your terms, sir. But, I have one of my own.”

“Name it.”

“You’ll not lay a hand to me or our children, no matter the height of your rage.”

“Never. You have my word.”

Looking into his eyes, softened and vulnerable now, he meant it. You felt relief for the first time in weeks. Safe, protected, cared for, and welcomed into his adventures. It was everything you’d dreamed of. All of your childhood friends had dreams of servants and painting rooms and buying linens, while you had wanted to see the world. Here he was, offering it to you. 

“I accept.”

“As do I, love. Now,” he finished removing your corset and bodice top, letting it fall to the floor, “as your husband, I’ll have what I’m owed.”

“Yes, Captain. But, please,” you felt a tear roll away from your wet lashes, “be gentle with me.”

“I promised no such thing,” he said, lowering his mouth to your nipple, sucking it and wetting the silk of your chemise, using his hand to pull down the fabric on your other breast, exposing it to the sea air. 

You gasped, feeling his hot mouth explore your skin, your nipples tightening in the heat of his attentions. He was using his tongue to flick back and forth across the tip of your breast, not caring that you were trembling at every swipe of his tongue or thumb. You moaned, involuntarily, as you felt the sparkle of pleasure rush into your belly, making you wet under your skirts. While you had explored yourself plenty of times to discover the hidden secrets of your body, to have a man - especially such an aggressor like Captain Price - do it, it was so much more exciting. His forbidden fruit made you clench your legs together, upset and tingling within your core. 

“Mmm,” he praised you, “Like that, love?”

“Yes, Captain,” you whispered softly, placing your hands on the back of his neck, rubbing the firm musculature you discovered there. 

“Good girl,” he told you, pinching your nipple cruelly to make you moan again. 

He kissed you then, full and with his long, ravenous tongue, forcing it into your mouth to feel your tongue and throat, the silky skin of your cheek. As he kissed you, he was busy rucking up your skirts, searching for your dripping heat. He found it, and he stilled. Barely moving, he stopped kissing you and looked up into your eyes with his stark blue ones, a look of pure delight on his face. 

“Oh, my stars. There it is. You’ve been hiding it from me. So willing? Tell me the truth. Have you been hungering for me as I have been for you?”

It would not be proper to confess such a thing, even to a man who would be your husband. You shook your head in denial, pressing your lips together to keep from telling the truth. 

“Say it! Tell your naughty thoughts to me, love. This is not the cunt of a frightened girl.”

You blushed, red as a rose, unable to meet his gaze. 

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he moved his finger inside of you then, gently sinking into his drooling sheath, ready to send home his sword to it.

“Y-yes,” your voice was barely audible.

“Yes? What have you been thinking of?” He returned to your nipple, pressing his finger deeper into you, massaging your walls as he explored.

“You…when you fight pirates, sir. You look…”

He chuckled, biting your firm nipple softly, teasing you,

“You like seeing me murdering those devils, do you? In all my days, I never thought I’d find a lass who had a taste for war.”

“Not the war, sir. Just the warrior. You seem to be in command of the chaos, and my body…well, I guess…I am unsure how to describe it.”

He pulled you down to the bed and tossed you on your back, rutting against you with his length, letting his hardness press into your core through his breeches. 

“You like seeing me in charge, hm? Your captain, barking his orders, tossing those traitorous rats into the drink, yeah?”

“Yes, sir,” you confessed, rolling in the broiling pleasure he was building inside of you, his hand knuckle-deep inside of your core. 

“Good,” he said smugly, “Then, I have a command for you.”

You looked up at him, watching him roll your skirt up above your knees, his eyes never leaving your dripping folds. He smiled when he saw it gleam for him. 

“What do you ask of me, my love?”

“Open your legs, girl. Feed yourself to your Captain.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Creep

Arsenal Women x Teen!Reader

Summary: The man on your train is a creep

You hated taking the tube.

It was smelly and packed and made weird noises that freaked you out. You would get dirty looks all the time because you had to squeeze on with your kit bag and your schoolwork.

But, in particular, you hated this one specific man.

He looked to be more than twice your age, one of those middle-aged finance guys in a fancy suit and enough money to buy three houses but common sense enough to not drive through London during rush hour.

He got on at the stop after you in the mornings and the one just before you in the evenings.

With the strength of the crowd, he always ended up pressed against you during the morning rush, always a little too close for comfort.

The train car rocked violently as it moved out from the station and you immediately felt hands on your hips.

"Sorry 'bout that," He said, leaning down into your personal space," Just lost my balance there for a second."

But his hands stayed firm on your waist.

You tried to laugh it off. "Oh...er, yeah, no problem..." You were frozen in place, unable to really do anything in the packed train with this strange man pressed up against you.

You were lucky that your stop was next and you wiggled out of his grip to exit.

The feeling of his hands on your hips stayed with you as you walked from the station to the training ground. By the time training was over, you had forgotten all about it.

But, in the coming days, he clearly hadn't.

It was like the floodgates had opened. He always ended up pressed close against you, always touching you in some way and you could do nothing about it.

You thought about catching the bus to training but it would just take longer so you just stayed with the train. You thought about getting a later train but the last time you did that, you were a few minutes off being late and doing that more often just felt like tempting fate.

You could cope with it though. You only saw him twice a day (once if you missed the first train back home) and you could easily wedge yourself further away into other people if you really tried.

It was only when he started to show up to your matches that you got the feeling that something could go wrong.

"Fancy seeing you here." He leaned over the railing with one of those smirks that you think the girls with daddy issues at your school would be attracted to.

You didn't quite know how to respond to that so you just awkwardly laughed like you did the first day on the train. "Ha, yeah."

"Mind taking a picture with me? My mates didn't quite believe me when I told them that the fit girl from Arsenal gets my train."

His wording was strange and crept on the edges of creepy but it was an innocent enough request so you took his phone and leaned up against the railing, trying to get a good angle.

He leaned down, his chin resting on your shoulder and goose bumps of fear crept up your neck when you felt his breath there.

"Hey."

You jerked away instinctively as a familiar voice approached. Lia, usually smiling, held a slight grimace on her face as she walked closer. Her eyes flicked to the man then back to you, plucking the phone from your hand.

"Why don't we make it the three of us?"

She didn't let the man respond, easily slotting in next to you and resting her arm around your shoulders so he couldn't put his face so close.

It worked for the most part but, as you plastered a fake smile on your face, you caught him angling his face down to sniff at your hair.

Lia gave him his phone back, pulling you away with her.

"Did you know him?" Kim asked as she joined the two of you, having been only moments away from intervening herself.

You glanced back at him, yelping slightly when you noticed him still staring. "He gets on my train."

Kim looked back too, eyes narrowed. "Come on, I'll drop you home today. You need to be careful on public transport."

"I know."

True to her word, Kim dropped you home. In fact, she continued to drop you home every day after practice so you only had to deal with the man in the mornings.

But, it was on the one day that Kim was sick, that it all came to a head.

You pulled your hood over your head as you began your trek to the train station, huffing in frustration at every step due to the ache in your legs.

"Hey! Wait up!" Leah came barrelling over, swinging one arm over your shoulder and almost causing you to crash to the floor. "Where'd you think you're going?"

"Home?"

"Without me?"

You gave her a look. "Don't you own a car?"

"It's getting serviced. Thought that I would see how you do it."

You rolled your eyes, checking the time on your phone. "We're gonna miss the first train because of you," You told her," But if we get to the station in the next ten minutes, we'll be able to catch the next one."

"Excellent."

You were right, of course. You arrived at the station just as the second train (thankfully much less packed than the first) pulled up. You slipped through the doors, talking aimlessly with Leah as you sat in the first seat you could find.

"Fancy seeing you here."

A shiver ran up your spine.

You hadn't even realised that you sat next to him until he spoke.

Leah narrowed her eyes.

"Oh, er, yeah. Just heading home."

"I haven't seen you in the evenings for a while now."

"I've been getting a lift back."

He nodded along, seemingly uncaring towards the fact that you were clearly leaning away from him. If there hadn't been an armrest in the way, you were sure that you'd have already tumbled into Leah's lap.

"The Arsenal training grounds aren't too far from where I work. We could take a cab back together sometime."

You shivered again, body going rigid as he flashed his too-white smile at you and, almost in slow motion, moved to rest his hand on your thigh.

Leah snatched his wrist out of the air, squeezing tightly until her knuckles were white. "You need to leave her alone," She said in warning, her voice low and dangerous like it was on the pitch," I don't want to see you anywhere near her. In fact, you're never going to see her again."

The train pulled into a station that definitely wasn't yours but Leah still yanked you up and got off with you, snapping a picture of the man on her phone as she went.

"How long has that been going on?" She demanded, not even waiting to get off the platform. "He seemed pretty familiar with you."

Shame flooded your body and you couldn't meet her eyes. "A few months. He crashed into me during rush hour."

Leah sighed, long and drawn out like she was trying to control herself. "Why didn't you tell someone?"

"What use would that do? Men are creeps sometimes. There's nothing I can do about it."

In an instant, you were pulled into her, arms wrapped tight around your waist as you were pressed into her neck.

"I'm so sorry, kiddo," She said," I'm so, so sorry that you've had to put up with that for so long."

"It's fine," You replied dismissively," It hardly matters anyway."

"It does matter. Don't pretend that it doesn't. I heard from Lia that some other creep was at the game against Bristol. Is it the same guy?"

You nodded.

Leah sighed again, finally letting you pull away but still keeping your hand tight in hers. "I'm going to send that picture to the girls and Jonas, alright? We're gonna have him banned from our matches."

"Thank you," You whispered.

"And we'll work out a schedule on who will take you to and from practice, so he can't corner you on the train again."

"Thank you," You said again.

Leah grinned, bringing you even closer than before. "Now that that's sorted out...Do you know how to get home from here? I'm not too sure where we are."

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

Samba Baking Class Notes

Okay sorry all, I should have waited to post the full note list but I got excited so yeah, here's everything I was able to note down while trying to make the pie. Please correct me if I'm wrong and you all heard something different! The Main news:

He's not done posting BTS! He's done posting BTS Screencaps (grabs? I was confused by the terminology, basically "scenes")! Apparently it's illegal to post those (and Samba had these on his phone and edited them together) so he'll still post BTS but it wont be stuff taken by his phone. He is worried about being sued by max. We've all offered to crowd fund his legal fees.

BTS Stuff:

Roach was only supposed to be on the show for 6 episodes-- and there was more to the "sewed his own arm up" scene. Apparently Taika liked where he was going with it and told him to go ahead, so Stede asked him. "What happened".

Roach said he was in a huge battle with someone and his brother and him were both there, and his arm got cut off, and there was his brothers arm, that also got cut off, and so he sewed his brothers arm back on to himself

2. There was a scene that wasn't used regarding the money jar -

Stede says lets get the money jar, everyone contributes it:

Oluwande puts down a few coins, Wee John puts something in and says he stole this off a corpse , Roach made money doing tattoos down at the dock, Black pete says "id rather not say how I earned this" Buttons puts down a shell and just says "the sea".

Stede then says:

Now it’s time to visualize our dream ship— Roach Says: Our dream ship has fully stocked kitchen, Wee John Says: He has a room Pete says: Lucius is alive on our dream ship, Everyone goes awwww

Then Samba mentioned why Buttons had to be tied to a rope because he’d just go drown in the sea.

He also said that Buttons: “Is probably out there, a big seagull, just humping the ocean, living his best life"

3. When they were auditioning for the Gentleman Pirate, they also auditioned Paul Bettany!

4. Also -- Calico Jack could have been played by Michael Fassbender! Samba thinks Michael Fassbender would have been horrifying as Calico Jack, we'd be more scared than anything.

"Will Arnett killed it-- he was perfect, he's a douche" (Affectionately)

5. Also: Vico does nothing but Twerk between scenes (mostly with Madeleine).

6: Regarding Tangy/Zangy Scene:

The kids: (Taika's kids were not present for that angle). The kids were supposed to ask: "Are you two boyfriends?" (That's why you hear it briefly in the video because that's the stage person giving them some lines.

His Quotes:

Unprompted: "IS SAMBA AN ASS MAN"

"WHY ARE YOU ASKING STOP IT"

"Sorry, I was distracted thinking of Rhys' calves (Abs?)

"The gentleman pirate I presume" -- he said SO many times

"I heard there was an Aurora Borealis, apparently there were so many OFMD fans it made the sky gay" (I'm paraphrasing)

"Con can only be contacted by (crow?)"

"Don't light your kitchen on fire, I've done that before"

Fan quotes: "#PeachesTonight"

Several fans wore mud masks and showed it to Samba (in honor of him!)

Other thing to note: "Hbo execs said ofmd was too expensive" So that's interesting, I guess that part was true?

[teamatsumu]

kinktober 2023 -> day 4

shower/tub - sakusa kiyoomi x reader

word count: 531

kinktober masterlist

Sakusa Kiyoomi liked to think he was an efficient person.

He did his budgeting on the same date every month, he prepped all his meals for the week on Sundays, he had ‘fun money’ set aside so it wouldn’t dip into his other expenses. And he was meticulously clean, infamously so.

His efficiency permeated all his activities, including the bedroom ones. As evidenced by this very moment, where he had your bare body pressed to the cold bathroom tile, wet and pliant, taking his cock deep in you with every precise stroke.

Water ran down Sakusa’s back in rivets, cleansing his body of the sweat and grime of the day, while your pussy worked on relieving a different kind of stress that was pent up inside of him. See? Efficient. He was knocking out two birds with one stone.

“Omi.” Your breathy voice hit his ear, and he groaned in reply, grip tightening on your legs where he had hooked his hands under your knees, supporting your weight against the wall. You felt divine, clenching around him just right to hug every pleasurable spot on his shaft. Sakusa bit his lip at the feeling, letting himself drown not only under the weight of the water splashing his back, but in the wet, hot cavern of your cunt. You were delicious, your body, slippery against his own yet still warm, moving with him the best you could in your restricted position.

Sakusa picked up the pace when he felt his orgasm approaching, wanting nothing more than for you to cum with him. He shifted only slightly, knowing exactly what angle had you seeing stars, watching intently as your jaw went slack and your eyes rolled back. This was his favorite vision, the sight of you so far gone that you lost control of your most basic facial expressions, so far gone that all you could do was hold on tight as he pounded into you over and over, until your eyes were squeezing shut and you were releasing all over his cock, your juices mixing with the water that ran down your bodies, cleansing both of you immediately.

He groaned long and low as he came, body pressing you into the wall even more, reveling in the soft give of your body, so different to his own lean, hard one, a welcome relief after a day of hardwood floors and harsh volleyballs. He filled you up, going as deep as he could, before pulling out and watching the white liquid run down your thigh, immediately being diluted by the water and washing away.

He laid a long, deep kiss on your lips, setting you down on shaky legs but not letting you pull too far from him. He tasted your mouth with quick strokes of his tongue, sighing when you ran a hand over his wet curls. He let you both stand in the water, using his hands to wipe away at your body as you did the same for him. Within seconds, you were both clean and ready for bed.

So efficient. You would tease him. But he prided himself over it. He had saved both of you time, hadn’t he?

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky y @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

[storm-angel989]

Valentino x daughter (20yo) who has same looks as him and interests and just life principles in general? Headcanons please? 💝

🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️

Sure! Head cannons that I have scribbled out <3

-You don’t know the meaning of “Daddy’s Girl” until you’ve met Valentino and his daughter

-Valentino kept her out of his studio until she was eighteen

-Valentino taught her all the names for body parts and used them appropriately. This resulted in several parent teacher conferences.

-She knew how babies were made from the get go. This also resulted in several parent teacher conferences.

-She learned from the best of the best how to use lighting, makeup and angles to "make even the ugliest whore marketable".

-A body is a body- and sex is for pleasure unless of course, you're making money as well

-The word NO is a sentence. Nothing happens without full consent.

-She's well aware her father has starred in his own films, but Valentino has made it a point to make them inaccessible. After all, that's still her Dad.

-If anyone so much as looks at her Valentino will shoot them. She's his daughter, not some sex object to be tossed around

-Side note: Her virginity is long gone. But she doesn't explicitly let Valentino know that- he suspects it but hey, she's still his daughter. And those guns still work.

-Speaking of guns, she has her very own in blush pink. Daddy brought it so she could protect yourself.

-It used to weird her out hearing other people call Valentino "Daddy", and when she expressed this he banned the word from use in her presence. Even in her twenties, this holds true.

[caesium-55]

—everything is orange. [ i ]

pairing: lando norris x kpop idol! reader

summary: a racecar driver who needed a fake girlfriend to dispel rumors and a kpop idol who needed publicity for her song. somewhere in between orange cars and orange sunsets, stands something they're afraid of naming.

author's note: i wont take tags for this im sorry 😭 also, i changed the faceclaim

masterlist.

The room is dimly lit. You didn't like dim lighting. It reminds you of your childhood bedroom. A barely functioning lightbulb hanging on the ceiling, your mother never bothering to change it. You were too short to change it yourself. You asked your neighbor once to do it for you but he had asked for a night with you in exchange so you kicked him out of the house before he could change the light bulb. You chose to study under the sucky light which became the reason behind your poor eyesight today.

You sit on a chair across Atty. Kim Jin Hwang, HAN entertainment's legal representative and one of the best lawyers Seoul has to offer, with a table dividing the two of you. He’s a man in his fifties, quite close to the age of retirement. He’s a veteran and despite his age, his mind is still sharp. 

You refrain yourself from tapping your foot against the floor anxiously. Anxiety does not look good on you and you refuse to show people that you're anxious. Anxiety is weakness so you keep your posture straight and make sure to keep eye contact with Atty. Kim. If you look away first, you're a coward.

“Tell me honestly. Is this you in the pictures?” Atty. Kim Jin Hwang points at the pictures sprawled across the table. They’re blurry and grainy and incredibly zoomed in. You can't even tell it was you from some angles. You look quite different from the person that you were when you were sixteen. HAN Entertainment is particularly fond of investing in their idol’s plastic surgeries and while they only fixed your crooked teeth, removed the hump on your nose bridge, altered your uneven ears, bleached your skin, and plucked your brows—which are quite minor changes—you still hold very little resemblance to the teenage you. 

You grew up well. Thankfully, you inherited only the best parts of your parents. Or at least, the best parts of your Mom. You have no idea what your father looked like, only knowing that he was from Brazil or some country in South America.

“Yes,” you answer immediately, not bothering to lie. What is the point of lying anyway? People have been calling you all sorts of malicious names across different social media platforms and you’re sure Atty. Kim has seen some of them. There’s no point lying to his face and saving your image anymore. Might as well admit that you are exactly the kind of person they’ve been yapping about. An illegal driver. A criminal. 

“Why did you do it?” Atty. Kim asks and truthfully, you did not expect the question. You expected the what and how and where and when but never the why question. You fall into a thoughtful pause.

“I was sixteen,” you shrug your shoulders, almost uncaringly so. “I wanted to leave home as early as I could and to do that, I needed money. Nobody wanted to accept student part-timers and I tried doing stuff like tutoring and doing other people’s assignments but it wasn't enough. I have a friend who joins street races. He’s not a good driver but he’s got a good car. He really wants to win so he cheated and let me drive his car on the condition that if I win, he’ll split me the winner’s money. I did it. I won races in that car, acting as if he was the one driving it.”

Atty. Kim gives you a long look. You don’t know what it means. 

“Alright,” Atty. Kimlifts his chin and rises from his chair. “That concludes our meeting. In the meantime, you lay low. We’ll handle everything.”

You nod, “Okay.”

True to Atty. Kim’s words, HAN entertainment handled everything. They released a statement that you watched one race because you were sixteen and clueless and didn't know you were getting yourself involved in an illegal activity. It helped that you drove under a different name so people were easily convinced of this lie. You knew your friend—the owner of the car— wouldn't even reveal that it was you who’d driven the car. His ego would be bruised once the people discovered that he cheated on the street races and a sixteen-year-old girl with no license and no personal car outperformed him. 

Additionally, HAN announced that you were to depart your group—ORACLE—which absolutely destroyed you because ORACLE had been the place where you felt like you belonged. ORACLE had been your goal. You worked yourself to the bone to the point of collapse because you wanted to be in ORACLE and wanted to remain in ORACLE.

Nevertheless, you accepted your fate easily. There was no point destroying the other members because of your fault alone. 

Your members cried for a whole week after the announcement was made public through HAN Entertainment’s official social media platforms and you spent every single day you could still spend inside the dorm reassuring them, telling them that you’d still be there for them, that you’d be standing behind them in each step to their success. You loved your girls so much. You wouldn't even choose to leave them. If only fate was a bit kinder to you. If only life was less brutal.

Furthermore, HAN made you publish a handwritten apology letter. You couldn't remember what you wrote anymore but you did remember how heavy the pen felt, how your hands trembled as you wrote each sentence, how writing the damn letter took three hours because you kept breaking down midway. They announced your hiatus promptly after. They used the term indefinite hiatus but it might as well be retirement.

You can't believe that you suffered through sixteen years under the same roof as your incredibly abusive mother, left home with only a backpack and a paper bag of cash just as you hit eighteen years old, worked your way in the harsh world by juggling three part-time jobs and a scholarship-shouldered university education until a scout noticed you, undergone the rigorous and borderline suicidal training of a KPop idol to-be, and sacrificed everything you had—mental stability, blood, sweat, and tears—just so you could pass every monthly evaluation and become your company’s darling, only to have everything disappear because someone found pictures of you predebut in an illegal street racing event. Fuck. 

You were fucking sixteen at that time! You didn't know any better. You only wanted money. You didn't have a license. Getting one is too expensive. You borrowed a car from a friend. It's an unregistered car. You drove the car. You won races. You stopped when you turned eighteen. That was it. 

Knetz decided to crucify you for a sin born out of your desperation when you were sixteen. When a dog was hungry, it ate whatever was thrown its way, uncaring if the food thrown at it was good or not because its primary instinct was only to cure its hunger. It was not as if you sexually assaulted someone. It was not as if you bullied someone and involved yourself in school violence. It was not as if you drank alcohol and drove or even involved yourself in gambling. Sure, street racing was illegal but you never even hurt someone! You never even crashed into someone mid-race.

You’re sure you’re going to leave the company and you won't fight their decision if they want you to do so. People spit out their gum when they lose their flavor. That's also what the industry did. You saw it happen too many times to too many idols. They collect pretty faces, push them to their limits until they could be loved by the public and once the public decides they’re not worth loving anymore, they’d spit them out. You are a gum in this story.

You feel like you’re eighteen again. You want to run away from home all over again. You ran away from the house you were born in once and now, you’re going to run away from the house you worked hard to live in. You want to pack your bags and board the next plane to another country even before the light of the rising sun touches the ground. That gnawing feeling of not belonging to a place that’s supposed to be home kept tormenting the cracks of your heart and the only way to seemingly get rid of it albeit only temporarily is to pick up on your feet and run away, never to leave anything behind you. Not ghosts, not traces, not memories—nothing.

But HAN entertainment won't let you. Yoon PD-nim knocked on your door, a contract in hand. He offered you an apartment to live in, a salary, a place in the company, and told you to keep creating songs. HAN Entertainment knew your talent in song making and producing was partly behind the success of ORACLE, their rising girl group. You were too useful to get rid of easily. 

And like that, you spent the last two years making music for every kpop group under HAN Entertainment. You mostly made B-sides for the junior girl groups, AURORA and PRIZMA, and the title tracks for boy groups, HIRA and 1THEBOY. You worked for soloist, Ciel, once for his last comeback before his mandatory military service and worked on half a mini-album’s worth of songs for ORACLE every comeback. Thankfully, the songs gained positive feedback from the general public. That was your ticket to keep staying in HAN entertainment as a ghost producer and ghost song-writer.

Two years. You rotted in your apartment and the studio. This felt no different than the time you lived under your parents’ roof. You felt like a ghost, present but also not quite there. It's quite fitting, you think. You're a ghost producer and a ghost song-writer. 

This was not a life worth living but you’d rather a life not worth living than have nothing at all. 

You empty your fifth cup of coffee for the day—an unhealthy brew of Americano with five shots of espresso—before standing up from the ergonomic chair where you’ve glued your ass on in the last two to three business hours. The demo for Sunset Paradise is almost finished. There are still a few parts that need major adjustments and refinement but you’re confident that you’ll be done by midnight.

Manager-nim enters the studio just as you reach the door. You jump, almost kicking the indoor potted plant inconveniently positioned near the door. The caffeine made you extra jumpy today. Once you get over your tiny shock, you bow your head in greeting. Manager-nim mirrors your actions.

“You're still working?” he asks.

“You're still bald?” 

Manager-nim rolls his eyes at you, smiling. You chuckle. 

Manager-nim, or rather, Song Dan, is ORACLE’s manager. He is a middle-aged man who only came up to your shoulders. He’s shaped like a square with round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He treated you and the other members of ORACLE as if you were his daughters. 

“I’m going to go get coffee. You can sit here for a while,” you invite, gesturing to the tiny cream couch. You use your feet to nudge the potted plant and clear Manager-nim’s path.

“No coffee,” Manager-nim stops you, taking a seat. “That's enough coffee for you today. Sit down here. We need to talk.”

“You can't kick me out. I won't give you Ciel’s first post-military mini album and ORACLE’s summer title track if you do.”

Manager-nim’s eyebrows draw together, a vertical wrinkle appearing between them, “What? No. We're not kicking you out.”

Your shoulders sag, relieved.

“Yoon PD-nim wants you to release a single.”

At that, your entire body stiffens, eyes going wide as saucers. You let out a noise in disbelief.

“You're joking.”

Manager-nim’s face doesn't shift in the slightest.

“You're actually serious,” you rub your chin with your hand. 

What is Yoon PD-nim trying to pull now? Two years have passed since you’ve disappeared from the limelight. You're certain that you're not returning to the world of flashing lights and stage performance anymore and you’ve already accepted that your career has ended.

“Why?” your voice slightly wavers as you ask. Manager-nim sighs heavily, patting the vacant space beside him.

“Take a seat. We’re going to be talking for a while.”

The girl in the mirror stares back at you. She looks exhausted. She has deep bags underneath her eyes. Her shoulders are bony. They look like they're about to pierce through her pale skin. Her lips, which should be a nice shade of pink, are pale. Her eyes hold emptiness.

You pull your gaze away from your reflection and direct it to the bathroom sink, where a hair brush sits on the white tiles quietly. Fallen hair gathers up in its numerous sharp teeth. At this rate, you’re going to end up like Manager-nim—bald. 

You can't go bald. You have a weirdly shaped head.

“Yoon PD-nim wants you to release a single but before the release, he needs you to be in a PR relationship with someone.”

You hiss loudly, slapping a hand on your temple. God, you want to act like Manager-nim never said that. You don't want to remember it.

You? A PR relationship? With someone you don't know? How atrocious. You didn't even need to hear Manager-nim out until the end. You are out. You do not vibe with romantic relationships. They make your skin crawl.

“Listen, [Name]. This might be your only chance to come back again.”

“What if I don't want to come back again?”

“Then why are you still here? Why are you still making music? You're good at leaving so why didn't you?”

The public still terrifies you but you will never tell that to anyone. You can’t even go out and buy groceries without trembling. So many eyes. So many judging eyes. They're all waiting to destroy you again with their stupid eyes and stupid mouths with sharp teeth. A stupid PR relationship won't save you.

But what if it will?

You hold the edges of the sink and lean the majority of your weight against it. Your knuckles slowly turn white. Your knees feel weak. You close your eyes and let out a shaky sigh.

Why are you still here? A voice in your head asks.

I just want to be home. You reply.

Do it. This is your ticket to go home. It says.

You open your eyes and gaze into the mirror. 

Do you want to be home?

More than anything.

With a nod, you push yourself away from the sink and exit the bathroom.

Yoon Sang Hyuk, CEO of HAN Entertainment—the black marble desk name plate indicates; the text an intimidating shade of gold. The owner of the name sits behind the table, his legs crossed over the other. His face is sealed with a neutral expression. Suddenly, a satisfied smile works its way across his face and you swear the wrinkles that permeated his entire face doubled in amount.

“I knew you still had it in you,” he says calmly. “That's good.”

“Thank you,” you say, your tone coming out bland. 

“I’ll give you a manager and you are to leave for Singapore tomorrow.”

You nod, “Yes, Yoon PD-nim.”

“Oh and [Name]?”

“Yes, Yoon PD-nim?”

“I know you're smart and you're hardworking and you're strong,” he begins. “I am confident you’ll do well so when you fly out there, don't be intimidated by any of them. You're as powerful as them. Remember the reason why you're there in the first place and do what you think is best.”

“You're putting a lot of trust in me,” you observe. 

It's questionable; the amount of trust he’s giving you. You already expected that Yoon PD-nim would send out an entire escort team just to make sure that you're not going to mess up again and get yourself involved in a PR nightmare incident. Who knows? Maybe someone will dig up pics of you copying homework from your seatmate in middle school and crucify you for being an academic cheater while you're out there holding hands with your fake boyfriend.

“I know you won't make the same mistake twice.”

You finally catch the underlying message behind his seemingly harmless words.

Focus on coming back and don't make another mistake. 

You nod, “Yes, Yoon PD-nim.”

“Lando Kinder Norris,” you read the name on the folder, brows furrowing. That's a rather unique middle name. “British-Belgian. Born November 13, 1999—” 

It's good that your fake boyfriend and you were born in the same year. You're not very fond of age gaps.

“—in Bristol, England. Currently racing for McLaren. Car number 4. First entry is the Australian Grand Prix.”

Below is a series of long paragraphs detailing his racing history that you’re definitely not reading. Shoving the folder aside, you lean back into the seat and cross your arms over your chest. Your eyes flutter close. Jinnie, a HAN entertainment manager who looks like she’s half white and half Asian, gives you a judging look from her seat. 

“You should read it,” she advises.

“No,” you say.

“I spent hours compiling that information,” Jinnie frowns. 

“You compiled the wrong info,” you tell her, not even bothering to glance towards her. “Nobody will believe we’re real if I only know the things written in Wikipedia. You should have asked his PR team how he likes his coffee, if he prefers brunch dates or dinner dates, if he likes staying in or going out, if he likes the sunny weather or the rain, if he’d rather get food delivery or cook, if he’d like to hold hands and walk side by side or walk ahead of you so he can act like your guard dog. Those things.”

To be loved is to be known.

“You speak as if you have romantic experience.”

“Do poets have to experience the things they write poetry about?” you retort. “Immanuel Kant believed that everything depended on how individuals interpret and respond to his environment based on their personal opinions and feelings. I don't need to experience it to know.”

Recurring observations are your common source of knowledge. Reading is another.

And besides, this isn't your first PR relationship. You like to think that you know exactly what you're doing.

“Tell me something that's not written in the folder, Jinnie-ssi,” you open your eyes and tilt your head so you can lock eyes with her. “For example, why does a distinguished racer need a fake relationship? I can’t be the only one benefiting from this agreement.”

Jinnie purses her lips, “I don't know much.”

“But you know something,” you rest your chin on the palm of your hand. “Tell me.”

“There have been rumors that Lando Norris got a girl pregnant. The woman marched into Woking and demanded to see him. Apparently, he got her pregnant when they slept together in a bar,” Jinnie shakes her head. “It's a messy ordeal but McLaren recently proved that Lando wasn't the father. Too bad though, the public isn't believing them.” 

“And they think giving him a girlfriend would somehow make the public love him?”

“They need to show the world that their boy isn't an asshole,” Jinnie says. “That he’s a loving, loyal partner. That he isn't capable of committing fuckboy crimes because he has a girlfriend waiting for him at home.”

You snort. McLaren really decided that you’ll be the best girlfriend? How did they even know your existence? The KPop community and the F1 community are worlds far away from each other. It's easier for them to choose a supermodel, an American actress, or even a pop star. But no, they really decided that a washed-up KPop idol is a good girlfriend for their star boy. You can think of a few reasons why they chose you. 

“Are you sure he really isn't the father?” you ask. Companies can ignore morality for the sake of protecting their golden images. HAN Entertainment is no different. For all you know, you’re going to be fake dating an asshole who made a woman pregnant and refused to take responsibility. He’d be no different from your father who left your pregnant mother.

“Beats me.”

An hour later, the plane lands in the most expensive city in the world, Singapore.

You have three choices: a VAQUERA blue devil sweatshirt, Motel Rock chute trousers, and a Adidas forum low shoes combo, or a varsity baseball jacket, Bonbom rhee cargo pants, and a Curetty C round toe mary janes combo. You went with the varsity jacket-cargo pants-mary janes combo. You put on a bonnet to finish the look. When Jinnie enters the hotel room and sees what you're wearing, she immediately says:

“No. You're definitely not wearing that.”

“What's wrong with this?” you ask, looking down at your fit. This is what you usually wear. They're comfortable and acubi fashion is a trend nowadays. 

“You're a WAG now. Dress like it.”

Your eyebrow arches.

“WAG?”

“Wife and girlfriend,” Jinnie replies. Your confusion isn't absolved, not even the slightest. Your mouth pulls to the side.

“And how does this correlate to my fashion sense? Do race car drivers control their girlfriend’s fashion style?” you genuinely question.

“No,” Jinnie says. “But they’d prefer it if you dress in something befitting for a WAG, you know? Elegance? Classic timely looks?”

You put a finger up, “No.”

Jinnie huffs, “I’m not taking a no for an answer. Wear a satin dress. Wear cotton trousers and silk blouses. Look like you're from an old money family, not some hip hop dancer from the streets. You're no longer your own person, you are an extension of Lando Norris. You have to look a certain way, act a certain way, talk a certain way. Your goal is to make Lando Norris look good.”

You push your tongue to the inside of your cheek, annoyed. Your jaw is tense.

“And when Lando Norris looks good, you’ll look good. Good enough that the public will love you again to support your new song. Do you understand?”

She's right.

She's right.

You hate that she's right.

No matter how bitter the truth tastes, you are irrelevant and Lando Norris is your ticket to going back. In any other world, you will never ever allow yourself to become a jewelry for a man to wear. So you grit your teeth, keep the ugly prideful monster within you at bay, and clench your fists. You have nothing and when you have nothing, you need to be resourceful and make use of the people who have the things to push you to the top again.

You let out a sigh, “Jinnie, choose my outfit for me.”

Jinnie nods and leaves the room immediately.

It's three days before the Singapore FP1 2023. Jinnie drives you to meet Lando in his hotel. They organized a lunch gathering with you, Jinnie, Lando, and the other McLaren PR representatives who are responsible for this entire PR scam. 

You're wearing a Versace tweed cardigan and a boucle tweed skirt paired with high heel leather boots and Greca goddess large shoulder bag. All black in color. Jinnie is the one who styled your hair. She insisted on it actually, claiming that your beach waves hair isn't doing it. She flat ironed the hell out of your hair so now, it's straight as a pole. She also sprayed your bangs with strong hold hairspray to keep them in place.

The outside world is nothing but a blur of high-rise buildings and cement pavements as the car runs. You're picking on your nails. They're clean but bare of manicures. Your two pinky nails are a bit too short. You tried to stop yourself from biting them in the airport but you can’t resist.

Two years is a long time. A bit too long in your opinion. You don't remember the things you learned in your etiquette classes anymore—how to stand in the public, how to walk, how to pose in front of the cameras, how to smile, how to greet people, how to look completely in your element despite being anxious of having a thousand eyes staring at you, how to act as if you're not crumbling at the pressure of looking good for everyone. That's the only way they’ll love you. If you look good in their eyes.

“We’re here.”

You blink.

“Come again?”

Jinnie points outside the car window. The car stopped and you didn't notice.

“Sorry,” you mutter, flipping your hair over your shoulder. You let out a breath, roll your shoulders back, and push the door open. Your entire face relaxes and you smile politely at the valet when Jinnie hands him the keys of the car. You ignore the starstruck expression on his face as you gesture to Jinnie to lead the way, following after her but not before saying your thanks to the valet. You're polite. You're trained to be.

You keep your shoulders square and your walk confident as you enter the hotel lobby. There aren’t a lot of people inside. There's a family of four in a corner, a group of elderly people sitting in the waiting area, and a group of posh friends chatting near the front desk. You can see a few heads turning in your peripheral vision. You can't blame them. You can be stunning if you try to be.

Your heart begins to ram violently against your rib cage. A million butterflies infest your intestines. Your ankles feel like it’ll snap in half a few minutes later. Your mind chants: DID THEY NOTICE HOW SCARED I AM? DID THEY NOTICE HOW TERRIFIED I AM? DID THEY NOTICE? DID THEY?

You want your ball cap and your sunglasses and your face mask. You want to hide your face.

You have to control your breathing as subtly as you can but you continue walking as if you're the prettiest yet the most down-to-earth creature to ever grace the planet. You fix your hair again once Jinnie and you stop in front of the elevator. Jinnie presses a button and you wait. While waiting, you twist the sole of your boot against the floor. It's better than tapping it against the floor. The elevator dings and the two of you enter the empty box.

When the doors close, your knees give out. You slam your hands against the stainless steel walls to stop yourself from dropping to your knees on the floor. Jinnie’s hands wrap around your waist, supporting as you pull yourself up. Her face contorts in worry.

“Are you alright?” she asks. You nod quickly.

“Yeah, yeah,” you lay your palm against your chest, right above your drumming heart. “Thanks.”

You straighten up, tugging the hem of your Versace tweed outfit to smoothen the creases and fixing your hair again. You clear your throat. The elevator dings and the doors open. You step out and your mask slides in place. 

Jinnie leads you to a private dining hall. In the middle of a hall is a table occupied by five people wearing tacky orange-black polo shirts. You recognize one of them to be your fake boyfriend, Lando Norris. 

Jinnie had already shown you what he looked like in her tablet and a few printed pictures but the pictures didn't do him justice. He looks extra charming personally.

He's still not your type.

The entire group rises to a stand just as you and Jinnie reach the table. You give a ninety degree bow, hands flat on the collar of your top so you won't accidentally give the McLaren people a view of your chest. (It's not like they have something to see anyway. Your chest is flatter than a rice field.) The edges of your lips curl upwards in a polite smile. You see Lando, your supposed fake boyfriend, try to imitate the bow, although he doesn't go as deep as you did. Your head tilts slightly at his action. 

Jinnie is the first one who speaks, stretching a hand in front of her to shake hands with the McLaren team. She introduces herself in fluent English, “I’m Jinnie Jo of HAN Entertainment. It's a pleasure to meet you. This is [Name].”

They each introduce themselves one by one. Nicole, Greg, Kyla, and Louis. You try to memorize their faces and their names, drilling it into your brain so you won't forget. You're going to be working closely with them after all.

“Hi,” you greet them. You also shake hands with each of them. It feels weird, shaking hands as greetings. You are more accustomed to bowing. 

“Wow, Jinnie, your accent is good,” Kyla compliments your manager.

“Thank you,” Jinnie smiles pleasantly. “I was born in Chicago. English is my first language.”

“How about her? Does she speak English?” Louis inquires. He's giving you a funny look. You ignore it.

“She does,” you smile at him pleasantly. “I’m very fluent. You don't have to worry.”

Risha, the Canadian member of ORACLE, was the one who helped you master English. You even have a Canadian accent when you speak English because of her. Additionally, you also took language classes when you were a trainee—Japanese, Chinese, English, and you even requested Portuguese, Spanish, French, and Korean sign language. You dabbled a bit on Tagalog, too, because you know how large the ORACLE fanbase is in the Philippines. You continued taking the classes up even after debut, even after all the members of the group had stopped, because you wanted to master the languages for the fans, to be able to hold conversations with them, to connect with them. You only stopped going to the classes after leaving the group two years ago. It's nice to see that your English skills are still in perfect shape.

“Please take a seat,” Nicole invites. You and Jinnie sit down. You place your bag on the empty chair beside you and when you pull your gaze up, you coincidentally meet Lando’s eyes. They're blue and green with flecks of hazel dusted in the middle. It's the first time you've seen someone with eyes wielding three different colors. They're stunning.

You smile at him. He smiles back and then averts his gaze. You turn to Nicole, who’s sitting beside you.

“Now,” she says, putting two folders on the table. She slides them towards you and Jinnie. Jinnie picks them up. You don't. Instead, you stare at them. 

“What are these?” you question, slowly bringing your eyes up and meeting Nicole’s gaze.

“Contracts,” she answers.

“Contracts?” you echo, picking the folder up and opening it. You take your sweet time reading from top to bottom, tilting your head a bit to the side.

“You don't have to read it all. It's all just formalities. Just sign it,” Louis inputs. “Reading can be hard for you since it's not your first language—”

“I read just fine,” you interrupt, not glancing up as your eyes thoughtfully scan through the words printed on the paper. “Thank you for the concern but this is a contract that involves me and my future. I wish to know what I’m agreeing to.”

Louis wisely keeps his mouth shut. You put your hand on your mouth so you can discreetly smirk.

When you finish reading, you slowly set the folder back on the table. You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you tap your finger on the wooden surface of the table. 

“This is unfairly written, don't you agree?” you ask. “You're putting rather lots of demands on me but so little on him.”

From beside you, Jinnie thins her lips. You know she's also thinking the same thing. Fucking HAN Entertainment. They didn't even make sure that the contents of the contracts are not disadvantageous towards you. You are disappointed but not surprised. They really just sent you to be devoured by wolves and demanded you to not make a mistake.

McLaren also thinks they can just choose a washed-up KPop idol to cosplay as their golden boy’s trophy girlfriend and make her do all their demands with little benefits and zero complaint. They deliberately chose someone who still holds popularity but little power. Someone who needs them as badly as they need her. They chose you.

Assholes. The two of them.

“What do you want him to do anyway?” Louis sneers. His face is beginning to look a little too annoying. “He's busy building his career. All you have to do is support him and make sure everyone knows it because you have none. That's all. Or is that a little hard for you?”

Louis is getting this all wrong. Jinnie told you that you're going to fix his reputation for him so his career wouldn't be ruined. In exchange, he gives you publicity so you could bring your career back from ruination. This is not a parasitic relationship where only their side gets the benefits. How could you even work on that comeback of yours if you're going to be glued by his side? 

Your jaw ticks with restraint yet you choose to smile, “He’s not the only one building his career.”

You pick up the folder and toss it to Jinnie, who catches it skillfully. 

“Throw that away. We're flying home. I don't need a PR relationship to promote my single that much.”

Satisfaction fills you when their faces grow alarmed. 

Ha.

“Wait,” Kyla stands and she shoots a dirty glance towards Louis. Your eyebrows scrunch a little. “The contracts are open to revisions.”

You clap your hands together, smiling widely.

“Perfect. Jinnie, hand me a pen.”

The team leaves you and Lando alone in the hall to eat, to give you both a chance to get to know each other. 

You allow your eyes to scan the hall. It has a bright spacious ambiance. The windows are stretched from the floor to the ceiling, allowing as much natural light inside. Singapore looks absolutely breathtaking down below. The flooring is made out of natural pine and a crystal chandelier hangs atop the table where you and Lando ate. You keep thinking: what if it'll fall? You shake the thought out of your head and put a fork full of pasta into your mouth.

“Is the pasta good?” Lando asks. You nod, humming and smiling. You don't like it one bit. You're also mildly allergic to shellfish. You're definitely going to get a bad case of rash later. You hope Jinnie is prepared with a medicine kit. You forgot to bring yours.

You wipe your mouth with your table napkin, announcing, “I’m full.”

You have only eaten half the plate.

“Oh you have a…” Lando points at the corner of his lips. You wipe the same area in your face. “No, the other side.”

You wipe the other side, “Is it gone?”

“Allow me,” he says, standing up from his chair and leaning across the table to thumb the stain. 

“Is it gone?” you ask again. Lando nods.

“Yeah, it is.”

He goes back to his seat.

“Thank you,” you smile. “You're already doing great with the whole fake boyfriend act.”

A flustered smile splits Lando’s face, shaking his head.

“I try.”

“By the way,” you begin, leaning a little forward. “Did they also give you a folder with my information?”

Lando nods, “Yeah.”

“Did they also suck?”

He purses his lips.

“Well….” he drawls.

“You can tell me if it sucks. The one my manager gave me looks like it's copy-pasted from Wikipedia.”

Lando chuckles. 

“I mean, your biography is very…detailed? Too detailed, I think. I didn't remember most of them, sorry. I only remember a few of them. Like your birthday. January 1, 2000.”

“1999.”

“Pardon?”

You wave your hand in a theatrical flourish, “I was born in 1999. The company manipulated my public information.”

Lando’s brows raise in surprise.

“They do that?”

“You’ll be surprised,” you lean back into your chair.

“But why?”

“So every member in ORACLE can be born in 2000. I don't know,” you shrug your shoulders. 

“That seems like an unnecessary change.”

“It is,” you agree. “But HAN wants everything to be perfect. They see a flaw. They fix it to their liking immediately.”

“What are the other things that are a scam in your biography?”

“Scam is a big word,” you tell him, amused. “But I’ll tell you. In exchange, tell me about yourself. Not the info I can read in Wikipedia. In order to make this work, I have to know you.”

To be loved is to be known.

“Alright,” Lando says. “We can take turns asking each other questions.”

“Cool,” you bring a glass of water towards your lips, taking a sip. “I’ll start. How do you like your coffee?”

[cocteaucherry]

trials and tribulations

summary- falling in love with your sworn enemy was not something you planned.

cws- p&p au/ bridgerton au, inaccurate use of regency language, 18+, misogyny, talk of pregnancy, foul language, future smut in later chapters, slow slow burn, LENGTHY descriptions

(a/n- the first chapter was running into 2k words so I split it up and edited it <33 I hope you enjoy

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife”

“So it's true that they're rather wealthy?”

“Well ONE of them are rather wealthy, the other not so much.”

“Doesn’t matter if they're both handsome.

“Ugh shoko don't say that”

You sat on the uncomfortable couch stopping your knitting to take part in the conversation, Shoko and Utahime, your lifelong friends sat across from you rather giddy about the wealthy newcomers

“What? It's true.” Shoko grinned her brown hair only reaching past her chin, “Makes the whole ‘being bound’ for life thing much easier.”

Utahime nodded, standing to walk across the small parlor, she sat on the small stool of the pianoforte playing a single note. “That, if men are gonna set the standard we might as well use it to our advantage.”

You rolled your eyes setting your needle and thread to the side, “So by finding an attractive wealthy man is taking advantage?”

“Yeah” they said in unison before giggling.

“Come on Y/n! Who really wants to be married with many children before twenty-five, some women may but not me! I'd like my twenties to amount to more than just my womb.” utahime exclaimed before tightly shutting her mouth when your mother walked in.

While she looked like a term cold woman she was really the best caring mother you could wish for in these times, “Good evening ladies,” your mother nodded with a curt smile, “I'm guessing you all have heard the news?”

“The well-off lads with handsome faces coming to town? No we haven't,” you smirked standing up before your mother’s hands were immediately attached to your shoulders, “This is your time my dear! For you to make your mark and to finally marry!”

Utahime and Shoko had to stifle their laughter.

You looked back with an annoyed grimace on your face as your mother moved to grip your hands, “My dear, you know why I worry, I worry for all of you like my own children.. As you all approach spinster age we mothers grow worried.”

Shoko and Utahime groaned in comparison their mothers had given them the same speech, “Now, I want the both of you to get on home and prepare for their welcoming ball-”

“WE WERE INVITED-” all of your voices rose in a confused squeal before your mother hushed them.

“Invitations were sent out this afternoon-”

“Mother you didn't tell me?!” you whispered yelled as you rushed over to utahime.

“I was going to-”

“Utahime can I please borrow your ribbons?” you pleaded.

“But that's my favorite!”

“Come onnnn pleaseee”

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

“So his name is Satoru Gojo?” you and Shoko stared at the invitation, very impressed by the amount of time and possibly money spent into the thick piece of paper.

“Yeah, I've never seen him but I've heard things. Like how he's conceited and doesn't exactly rub people the right way.” Utahime scoffed at the frill on her delicate dress.

“Oh so your ideal husband?” you grinned jokingly as you felt Shoko flick your forehead, “Ow!” you hissed in pain, whining , rubbing your forehead.

“Thank you Shoko, how far are we?” Utahime peeked out the carriage window to immediately be star struck, “look look!” she pointed, and you a shoko to foot to look out.

You all had passed by the manor countless times, nothing was particularly jaw-dropping about its size but that was it, looking at it from a new angle it was glorious. The overgrown fauna had been trimmed and lights took over all the dark areas, different flowers had overtaken the walls and it was truly breathtaking.

“This is..”

“Amazing, yeah,” you said breathtakingly as the carriage came to an abrupt stop, you heard the voice of your mother and father ahead of you (the adults had opted for a separate carriage) the door to the carriage opened as she quietly ushered you out, “Come come!”

Once you all had approached the entrance you were hit with the strong smell of flowers and expensive perfume, your nose scrunched as you all stepped through the wide open doors. marble statues and flowers hung everywhere, “Think they have enough flowers?” you whispered to Shoko with a grin as you tried your best to not bump into any of the guests.

“We just arrived and I'm already overstimulated.” Utahime groaned before getting stopped by your mother, “Before you leave remember you are here to make a marvelous impression, don't disappoint me.” she stuck a finger out before placing a kiss on your cheek and disappearing into the crowd of people.

“Well, ladies.” Shoko hummed with a grin, “I say we go dance,” she grinned wrapping an arm around Utahime’s neck, “Actually, I'm going to find the wine, you two have fun.” she quickly walked away leaving Shoko to scoff and immediately grab your hand, “C’monnn y/n.. Please..”

“Fine! Fine! Let's go!” you giggled,

As the band played loudly you and Shoko continuously danced, eventually forgetting the whole reason you had come, “Shokoo, how are you not tiredd?” you panted continuing to spin around your dance partner, “goodness you're too weak.” she grinned at you spinning around her own dance partner.

The music had halted and Shoko immediately fell to your side, “And I'm weak?” you laughed smirking as you gripped onto the brunette's arm.

The room suddenly went quiet, hushed mummers filled the room as the guests around you stepped back. “He’s here he’s here!” Shoko whispered quietly tugging on your hand to strap back, “Gojo?-“ you were shushed immediately as your attention was bought to the wide opened door.

A tall slender frame, a beautifully dark blue tailored suit was complimented by his snow white locks, his bright blue eyes scanned the room as a small smile appeared on his face. Accompanying him was a person who you hadn’t seen before, long jet black black hair tied into a bun, his jet black suit offsetting his amber eyes.

“Who’s that?” You whispered to Shoko keeping your eyes on the men as they began to walk towards the cleared aisle everyone had made, “One with the white hair obviously Satoru Gojo, the one next to him I’m guessing is his trusted friend Suguru Geto.”

You nodded confusingly as people bowed next to you, you and Shoko bowed in tandem as they walked by, Geto spared a small glance to you before hurriedly looking away the same stoic look taking place on his face.

“Hm-“ you sighed quietly taking your hands off the fabric of your dress as the two men made their way down the walkway, once they reached the end the music resumed and the breath you didn't know you were holding came out. Were you that nervous?

As you were lost in thought you were quickly bought out by the hands of your mother gripping your soldier, “Did you see how handsome he was? We must introduce you immediately!” your mother pleaded, grabbing your hand, you turned to Shoko with pleading eyes and a smile appeared in her face, “Yeah come on!”

Oh this woman-

before you could release a string of insults you were being pulled away by Shoko, your mother following suit. “Shoko! Please please please-” you shut your mouth as you stood in front of the infamous man known as Satoru Gojo and his friend.

You felt your palms begin to sweat as you were placed upon the beautiful man, your nervousness only skyrocketed as you felt the suffocating glare of Suguru Geto cast over you.

“Mr Gojo and Mr Geto.” your mother bowed with a smile, “My daughter y/n l/n and her friend Shoko Ieiri.” as you and Shoko began to bow you were met with a laugh coming from the white-haired man.

“Please, there's no need for bowing.. I'm not that formal,”

“Satoru..” his black-haired friend began as Gojo quickly shushed him.

“So Miss Shoko and Y/N.. Oh I almost forgot about my wet blanket here, Mr. Suguru Geto, careful he doesn't care for lively things.”

A vein appeared above Geto’s eyebrow as he clenched his jaw. “I'm the one with actual sense.” he quickly retorted which caused Gojo to frown.

“Well I'll leave you both to it,” your mother interrupted, placing a kiss on your cheek before whispering, “Don't mess this up.” she plastered on a smile before walking away into the crowd of people.

Shoko cleared her throat before looking at the two men, “So, how are you two settling into the town?”

“Lovely-”

“Horrible-”

Gojo looked over annoyingly at his friend flicking his arm, “What he means is-”

“No no, please enlighten me Mr. Geto” his body tensed at you saying his name, “What is so horrible about this town?” you questioned a sickly sweet smile taking over your features.

“For one, the architecture is overly simplified-”

“Oh, what a surprise a small town doesn't fit Mr. Geto’s standard.”

Gojo grinned a small laugh leaving his mouth, “Well, you both sound lovely with a great sense of humor.”

“Well thank you, I think it’s time me and my friend get going.. we enjoyed talking with both of you.” Shoko curtsied as you did too, you turned and left Shoko following after.

Once you were out of earshot Gojo looked towards his friend with a grin, “they’re both rather cute aren't they?”

Geto scoffed, shaking his head, “Miss. Ieiri seems a rather pleasant Miss. L/N I’m not so sure.”

The white haired male laughed, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder, “Maybe I’ll try my luck with her then?”

A vein appeared in Geto’s neck as his fist tightened and Gojo pointed it out, “Got you, you’re too easy to read my dear friend..” he smirked, walking away into the crowd.

Suguru shook his accusation off his eyes searching for your hair but couldn’t be found, he DIDNT want anything to do with you.

At least that’s what he told himself.

[hana-no-seiiki]

PRETTY WHEN YOU CRY

YANDERE! ACTOR OC x IDOL! READER x YANDERE! FAN OC

— inspired by oshi no ko & lana del ray’s pretty when you cry. ff: did you know i was gonna have my usernames in social medias be “akumarine” which mixes my two fixations att (oshi no ko & iruma)? no? well now you do!

tw/cw: yandere themes; mentions of seggs and substances but no smut. mentions of non-con. reader is a cold-hearted bastard. substance use. character death. murder. reader gets called pretty (but that’s a gn term so fite me). necrophillia.

this was inspired by uh… one of gen’s stories. let’s say. and mr. devil’s stoner reader.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

“I’ll wait for you babe, that’s all I do, babe.”

GENIUSES WERE BORN, NOT CREATED

That was the mindset Kahliel had. Some people were literally and figuratively born different. Only a select few were able to gaze into the intricacies of their craft and tune it to heights others could only imagine.

You were one such genius. It only took one gaze to understand that. You saw the set in ways even he didn’t account. The lighting, the blocking, and the subtle body language, the angles of which you thrived in. He only heard of your amazing work as an idol, how you manage to look entrancing in every shot and moment, how you are able to mesmerize even those that swore they hated you.

But genius, true geniuses also have one other trait Kahliel recognized. It was their heartless nature.

You two met on set years ago as young adults. It was one of his earlier works as the main actor. Not a film, but a musical. Even then he could see the void in your eyes. Your cold demeanor repelled the people around you. He could have never expected that kind of performance from a person who seemed to hate even the regular ground they walked on, much more the stage.

That musical launched him to stardom and led to you two having sex for the first time.

“All those special times I spent with you, my love. They don’t mean shit compared to all your drugsz”

It was embarrassing really. Kahliel had no time and therefore no prior experience on such things. But you just looked so pretty underneath the blue dim lighting of the club the afterparty was held in. A drink, maybe a couple of weed later and you found yourselfs in a dingy motel’s bedroom. Entangled in eachother’s bodies, the scent of sex, sweat and the strongest of all — puke wafting through the air.

He couldn’t believe it. He admired you for quite a bit. Sure you are stoic, standoffish. But there were times you’d defend him from other people on set. You weren’t cruel and unfair.

At least, he thought you were.

Kahliel was proud of his performance as an actor. So, as you left him that night. Without so much as a farewell. He does not cry.

He does not weep.

Even as his heart was shattering.

HE MEETS YOU AGAIN ON MUSIC VIDEO SET. YOUR MUSIC VIDEO’S SET.

And it took him everything not to run up to you. He had not heard about you at all after the musical. Too focused with his own career and distraught by the way you treated him and left, he threw himself into acting, partying, fucking other actors and actresses — heck even randos or fans who’d take his money and shut up about it. It was only by destiny’s design that you two cross paths again.

“[Y/N]?”

“Yes?”

Indifference. The same look you gave him way back then. Like he was just dirt underneath your shoe. You probably don’t even remember that you’ve slept with him once before. Much less the kindness you spared when everyone else looked down at him. The very reason he entrusted his virginity to you.

But then, there was also something else. Your eyes were blood-shot. Your countenance, despite being as heavenly as he remembered, showed signs of deterioration.

You were high.

“No, I just wanted to give you these. As a token of acting together once again.” He said as he presented a large bouquet of spider-lilies, practically blinding you with its reds.

“Thank you. Leave them over there.” You pointed to a corner with a grateful smile.

Later on, he saw you throwing his gift in the trash. Not a hint of emotion on your face.

“But I don’t really mind, I’ve got much more than that.”

Viné was a fan of yours from the very beginning. Under the pseudonym Grapevine, he’d post regular updates. Essentially he stalked you for a living. He had a day job of course. But his true passions lied with watching you on the daily

You’ve gotten sloppy lately. You almost never check your gifts from him. Accepting them eagerly. Not a care in the world if they were bugged or with a tracker.

He used to think that it was terrible how you got into substances. Worried how it’d impact your health and performance on stage and screen. But now, now he reveled in it.

Viné already knew where you lived of course. But there were times where you’d move all of sudden or where he wasn’t free to check on you.

Now, his hands trembled in ecstasy as he watched you in your room.

But you were with someone else.

Viné didn’t care for much aside from what you starred in, and even in those songs or films all he could focus on was you.

So who was this man standing in your room as you were drugged out? Pushing you unto your bed with a grin so wide it hurt just to look at it.

Viné stared as this man defiled you. He watched as he saw him squeezed you tight, smothering his filthy lips all over your body.

You . . .

You were betraying him.

How could you do this to him? He supported you all this this time but this is how he gets repaid? A free show to watching his god be with someone else?

He does not watch the rest of the live-show. Utterly disgusted by your behavior and cheating.

He quickly made his way through the mess and trash strewn all over his house and grabbed a dull knife from the kitchen. He sets off into the night.

He had to teach you a lesson.

The two men, despite your arms going limp, continued their actions. Unaware that you had choked on your own vomit a while ago.

A smile was etched on your face, pretty as it always was.

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

[strawberri-elixir]

Sleepless nights

╰⇢ 9. Good shit

Warnings: just yuta being in denial again?? (no surprise tho)

note: THERE’S WRITING AFTER THE FIRST 10 IMAGES you don’t wanna miss it :] also thank you for all the support?! i never thought there would be many people who would want to read this series. but i’m thankful for all of you <3

“Alright. So how about we all split up into pairs while we go around the mall?” Nobara took a sip of her drink as you all began leaving the food court.

“That would probably be easier.” Yuta nodded.

“But there’s seven of us.” You added.

“You guys will just have to be in a group of three.” Maki slung her arm over Nobara’s shoulder, giving a sly grin to the black haired boy.

“I don’t think-” Yuta tried to protest.

“Perfect! Inumaki, you’ll come with us!” You interjected, taking a hold of the boy’s hand.

Maki watched with an amused look as Yuta glared at her. He knew exactly what she was trying to do, but it’s not like he could do anything about it.

“Let’s go then!” You began dragging the two boys away.

The three of you then began strolling through the mall, pointing at windows and looking inside the stores. You did most of the dragging, pulling Yuta and Inumaki into whatever store caught your eye.

“Look at this!” You smack Yuta’s arm to get his attention. The three of you were currently stationed at the front counter of an antique shop, looking at all the various trinkets that were displayed behind the glass barrier.

In this case, you were focused in on a simple silver ring. The obviously well-loved wedding band sat in a velvet box, practically begging for attention. You couldn’t help but stare at it.

Small engravings ran through the material, creating intricate designs across the entire surface. A truly beautiful piece of jewelry. It almost drew you in, in some way. Like a magnet.

“I’m almost scared to ask how much that is.” Yuta chuckled.

“It can’t be as bad as you think.” You smile. “How much is this ring?” You ask the old lady behind the counter, pointing at the silver ring.

“That one? It’s 50 dollars. But for a young one like yourself, I’ll let you have it for 40.” She smiled.

As much as you appreciated the kindness, you politely declined. Not because you felt bad, but because you simply couldn’t afford it. It was times like this when you really wished you had a job.

“I can pay for it.” Yuta offered.

“No way! I’d actually feel bad if you payed for this. 40 bucks is a lot even for you!” You immediately shut him down.

It’s true, 40 dollars is a lot for broke high school students, even if they have jobs. You couldn’t allow Yuta to spend that kind of money on you.

“You sure? You’ve been eyeing that ring for a solid 15 minutes while we looked around the store.”

“Positive.” You gave the ring one more glance before forcing yourself to leave the store. “Let’s go. Any more staring and I’ll regret not having enough money.”

“Alright, I just want to look at some of those old journals before we go, just wait outside for me.” Yuta shooed you away.

You roll your eyes with a smile, turning your attention to Inumaki as the two of you walked out. “I bet he’s gonna take a long time.”

The two of you found a bench to wait for Yuta, sitting down side by side, the two of you sat in silence. It wasn’t long before Inumaki pulled out his phone, swiping to a game and started playing.

“What are you playing?” You lean over and watch the boy tap away on his screen. He angled his phone to you, displaying a familiar game layout. “Oh! You play Genshin?”

The boy gives you a simple not. It was obvious he wasn’t much of a talker, but that didn’t bother you.

“That’s cool. I don’t really play but I really like watching this one streamer play.” You started going on about the game. “If I’m annoying you, just tell me, okay?”

“You’re not bothering me. Keep going.” He mumbled.

It was the first time you ever heard him actually speak to you. His voice was low, lower than Yuta’s at least. A little husky from the lack of use. But soft at the same time.

You couldn’t help but smile. It was like the next step in your already growing friendship. You continued to watch the boy play, leaning on his shoulder as time went on.

Masterlist | Next

fun facts:

— even though she’s all for the chaos, maki does genuinely want yuta to be happy and confess his feelings

— inumaki has his phone always on do not disturb because of the amount of notifications he gets

— the original monster energy drink is yuta’s favourite because he rarely drinks them (you try to get him to try different flavours but he just doesn’t like them)

taglist:

@sur-i-ki @aespaforlifersyall @camilo-uwu @butterflyqueen234 @shinsukeee @tanchosanke @emii4evr @lees-chaotic-brain @you-always-made-me-blush @jayathelostdragon @chilichopsticks @polarbvnny @instantmusico @sad-darksoul @hellyyy06 @rosieandthethorns @zellwa @iluv-ace @h3xi2g0n3 @morgyyyyyyy @bellaabee082

Bold means I for some reason can’t tag you! I don’t know why :[

[emmg]

I want Blackwall, against all logic, fate, and the general laws of sanity, to become Solas's unexpected bestie in Veilguard—like some twisted, medieval version of a buddy-cop drama where one’s a guilt-ridden ex-wannabe-warden and the other’s an elven god with a messiah complex. Because lying liars gotta stick together.

Blackwall: “Now, what was he supposed to do? Just waltz into the Inquisition camp and be like, ‘Hey guys, fun fact: I’m an elven god, also sorry about that whole ‘end of the world’ plan in the works.’ Yeah, sure, that’d go over well.”

Solas: nodding sagely “Exactly.”

Blackwall: “I mean, think about it—he’s got centuries of baggage. That’s a lot to unpack. It’s not like he could have just put it in his Tinder bio. ‘Likes long walks in the Fade, dismantling the Veil, and reclaiming lost elven glory.’ No one’s swiping right on that.”

Solas: frowning thoughtfully “It’s been a lonely existence.”

Blackwall: “See? Exactly. He’s lonely. Who hasn’t thought about ripping apart reality when they’re having a bad day? People are so quick to judge, but they don’t know the context.”

Solas: tragic sigh “The weight of leadership is often misunderstood.”

Blackwall: “Right? It’s like me with the Grey Wardens—except, y’know, with fewer existential threats to the universe and slightly less divine ego. But still, I get it. You don’t just walk up and say, ‘Hey, I might have kinda sorta lied about everything. Also, I’m basically the reason your world sucks now. My bad.’ That’s social suicide. I mean, you’d never get invited to another tavern crawl. Ever.”

Solas: nodding gravely “Precisely. That, and... I am not one to ‘buy rounds.’”

Blackwall: “See, that’s the real issue here. It’s not that Solas wanted to tear down the Veil—no, no. It’s that the man can’t even be bothered to cover a single round at the bar. That’s the true crime. And, well, I guess he has no money.”

Solas: solemnly “I have no need for such trivialities.”

Blackwall: “Of course not, because you’re a god, right? But try explaining that to your drinking buddies. ‘Oh no, I’m too divine to pay for ale,’ like that’s going to fly. Honestly, Solas, this whole end-of-the-world thing? Just bad PR. You should’ve led with the ‘I’m mysterious, brooding, and burdened with ancient knowledge’ angle. Chicks dig that.”

[pimosworld]

Only if you catch me

Pairing-Frankie Morales x f!reader

Series Summary-You meet Frankie when you least expect it. Both of you hiding from your past and trying to find each other won’t be easy, but it’s worth it if forever is with him. 

Series Warnings- 18+,MDNI, NSFW, Angst, hurt/comfort, Slow-ish burn, Explicit Smut, D/S dynamics, canon typical violence, Tom is mentioned (but dead), The boys got the money, Frankie helping reader open up in the bedroom, mentions of past abusive relationships, recovering addict, PTSD, tough family relationships, healing through therapy, protective Frankie, protective TF boys, found family, reader is a photographer , no description of reader other than the nickname Flash. 

WC-7k (who am I?)

A/N- This introductory chapter got me so excited for this. I hope you love these two as much as I do.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter 1. Aperture

This should be a simple shoot.

  In and out. 

  Easy enough to dust off the cobwebs and get your name out there in a new city. An amateur boxer about to go pro. He needs a promo bill for some huge fight he has coming up. The details don’t really concern you about why. It’s the who. 

  Capturing a good shot isn’t about the camera or the angle, it’s not even about the time of day or lighting. That’s all secondary to who and what is in front of the lense. The emotion makes the image feel one hundred times better than the camera could ever try to capture. 

  You figured this would be a good way to dip your toes back into working. 

  You're early. An odd habit you picked up from knowing that the most meaningful shots are captured when everyone’s guard is down. When the family is setting up or when the bride is hanging out with her friends. When everyone is too preoccupied to pose…that’s when the magic happens. 

  It’s a modest gym, warehouse style on the edge of town. Thankfully not far from your new apartment so you didn’t have to stress about still not knowing your way around. Judging by the minimal trucks in the parking lot it’s a private shoot. That helps your nerves settle a little more not having to be in too large of a crowd. 

  You can tell you’re stalling so you brace your hand on your tote bag and the other on the door handle and haul yourself out of the old green Jeep. The most tried and true possession you own besides the Nikon Z nestled neatly in its case. 

  ****

  Low rumbles of men’s voices hit you when you enter the gym. The scent of sweat soaked leather and old wooden floors. The faint hint of liniment and gym mats. 

  The front desk is empty but you wait there for a brief moment. Taking in the clean front entry way  with various pictures on the wall. Some posed and some candids of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen. Just beyond the desk is a large framed photo of some of the men and one brunette clad in military gear. 

  A huge roar of laughter sounds from the other room, a welcoming sound that you feel yourself being pulled towards. So you take a deep breath, shrugging your strap higher on your shoulder and venture towards it. 

  You wanted to look nice,professional on your first job. Now the heels clicking against the wood, signaling to the men that a woman is approaching seems like the worst idea you’ve ever had. All eyes land on you as you enter the main area of the gym. There’s two men in the ring. One man is hunched over, dripping sweat as he looks like he ran several miles. A tall blonde leans on the ropes, looking the opposite of exhausted as he does nothing to disguise the way he rakes up and down your form. A huskier version of him is making his way towards you, a look in his eyes almost like he’s stalking prey, yet there’s something familiar there and it dawns on you that they were in the photo. 

  Another man across the room leans against the wall, his broad back turned away from everyone while he talks on his phone. His hand flits nervously to the back of his neck as he continues his conversation in hushed words. 

  “You’re early. I like that.” The man extends his hand and you compose yourself briefly to offer a former handshake than he expected. You can see it in his eyes as he releases it. “I’m Will, that’s my brother Ben in the ring that you’ll be taking photos of.” 

  “Hi sweetheart.” Ben blows you a kiss with his gloved hand and you raise your eyebrows at the forward gesture. Handsome, cocky, definitely not your type. 

  “Ignore him.” 

  “It’s kind of my job to do the opposite.” You offer up as you make your way to an open bench and he laughs genuinely. 

  You can feel the nerves rolling off you in waves as you open your bag to set up your camera. You know they’re watching, waiting for instruction and something about having the cool heavy metal in your hand always turns you into a bit of a bossy bitch. You don’t mean it but you can tell around these men you’ll have to hold your own or run the risk of being treated like a joke. 

  Will had already gone over in great detail via email what his vision was for Ben’s promo. The man was meticulous in his description of how he wanted his brother to look. You could tell how much he cared about his image in the way he wanted you to capture his youthfulness and passion for the sport. You didn’t need any further direction when you squared up alongside the ring. 

  “You here to capture my boyish good looks?” Ben flexes his muscles as you take a photo catching him slightly off guard. 

  “Just pretend I’m not here.” You gesture towards the other man in the ring who’s finally gained some composure. 

  “That’s James, don’t worry about him. He likes getting his ass kicked.” 

  “Oh…I guess you would know.” Ben scoffs and Will has to hide his smile behind his hands at your banter. Not one to back down from a little teasing and unbeknownst to Ben capturing candid photos while he tries to flirt. 

  You flit your eyes to Will in a silent communication. 

  “Ben! Focus please.” 

  It’s almost immediate the way he switches to fight mode. Dancing around his opponent, toying with him like he’s a child. He doesn’t seem phased by the snap of your camera as you take a few test shots. 

  The way he bites his lip when he’s squaring up his opponent. How he bounces left to right when he doesn’t have a good shot. Maybe only you notice because you’re watching him so intently when he realizes he’s found his opening. His vision zeroes in and his movements cease. 

  That’s when you take the shot. 

  “He’s too photogenic.” The low sultry voice registers behind you but it doesn’t cause you to startle. 

  “Disgustingly so.” 

  He laughs, and there it is again. The boldened, unadulterated laugh that these men have a lock on. 

  You don’t have to turn around to know the mysterious voice is accompanied by the man that you’ve been eyeing since you got here. He’s confident enough to penetrate your bubble of safety to occasionally peek over your shoulder as you check the shots you're getting. 

  If he notices you flinch at the sound of leather meeting skin he doesn’t say anything. 

  “It’s a shame such a handsome face chooses to subject itself to such torture.” You say as you continue to adjust the angle. He glances over to you, watching you work. Trying to keep his eyes off your legs exposed in your knee high sundress. 

  His body is closer to you now, this stranger. 

  “He doesn’t make a habit of getting hit.” He smirks when you look at him and there’s no cover for you as your lips curl into a smile. “It’s easy to not pretend that he’s so good looking.” 

  “Don’t sell yourself short.” 

  He looks at you then as he brushes his fingers along his lips. Chocolate brown eyes piercing into you and you can’t help but snap a picture. 

  It’s brief. The moment of apprehension from him as you study the photo on your lense camera. This stranger is awaiting your approval. Likely not having his photo taken in such an intimate setting in quite some time. Another one of the handsome men from the front desk picture. 

  It takes you by surprise when you see it. 

  If he notices he doesn’t say a word. 

  He’s beautiful. An old world beauty with all hard lines and soft eyes. He sidles up next to you and the warmth emanating from him is enough to have you delirious. 

  “So…what’s the verdict?” 

  You bite your lip and hold on as you glance up at him. His mouth slightly parted in an o shape as he watches you release it. 

  “You’re a natural.” 

  “Francisco.” 

  You give him your name and he says it like a command. 

  “Hey, I’m not paying you to take pictures of his ugly mug.” Ben’s voice cuts through the little moment you were having with him as he flips his friend off, looking a little sheepish at having displayed it in front of you. 

  You send him an apologetic look as you get back to work. You occasionally check the images to make sure the lighting isn’t off. It’s glaringly obvious that Ben is posing and it’s throwing you off. You want him to look more natural but instead it’s coming off like a cheesy catalog. 

  “So…you borrowing that camera from Andy?” There’s that voice again, so close to you and you can’t deny it does something that you wish it wouldn’t. 

  You smirk glancing down at the black and white label just above your lense. 

  ANDY

  “No, that’s her name…Andromeda.” Offering up no further explanation you continue shooting, walking around the ring because you have to find a way to work around Ben's chaos. 

  He’s following closely behind as his heavy footsteps creak on the old wood floors. His arms crossed against his chest as you look over your shoulder. His face reads exactly what you would expect from purposefully leaving someone in the dark for your own amusement. 

  “Andy because Andromeda wouldn’t fit…Andromeda was rumored to be the most beautiful and…” You trail off as you admire it in your hand. “She’s the most beautiful in my collection and the most important to me.” 

  Running his tongue over the front of his teeth you think he wants to make fun but it’s quite the opposite. You’re distractingly beautiful and cute and if he was feeling adventurous he’d call you Andromeda but he’s not confident enough to dish that one out. So he stays quiet. 

  Too quiet. 

  You’re panicking thinking how you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of this handsome man and you should back pedal. Explain away your ramblings because you’re so used to not being understood. Yet he surprises you. 

  “I have a heli named Lucy.” 

  He mentions all casually and you have to register that he means helicopter. Subtle 

  “Francisco.” 

  “Frankie, my friends call me.” 

  “Frankie…you own a helicopter?” 

  Will stepped into the ring to let Ben know he can stop torturing James. Frankie has to thank his friend as he sees him grab Ben to keep him from intruding on one of the best conversations he’s had in awhile. 

  “It’s not meant to be a brag, but yes.” 

  You hum in approval as you turn to look at him. Your eyes pin him to the spot and he feels his face grow hot. 

  “Lucy is a lucky lady.” 

  It’s the gleam in your eyes. The way his stomach does a flip when he gets a whiff of your perfume. He’d throw away all notions of the cliche love at first sight because maybe he finally sees how it’s possible. It also welcomes another uneasy feeling. The feeling that people are so quick to settle for less, something he’s done most of his life because that’s what he thought he deserved. His last few relationships he settled just to feel comfortable and one of those almost took him under. 

  “So did you turn me into a model or what?” Ben slaps Frankie on the back and he’s never wanted to strangle him more. “Or what.” Mumbled under his breath and he catches your smile ear to ear. 

  You don’t answer as you see Will approaching already knowing who has the final say. 

  Ben’s ribbing him, sending all sorts of suggestive eyes at Frankie as he wraps his sweaty body on his shoulders and you slink away to handle business. 

  ****

  “These look great.” You know Will is being nice when it comes to your work…you don’t want nice. You want honest. 

  “They could look better.” He snorts as he looks over at his brother shadow boxing Frankie.

  “Tell me more.” 

  ****

  You’d said your goodbyes and made your way out of the gym with your dignity intact. Stepping out into the parking lot to take the first deep breath in over an hour. 

  Will was thoroughly impressed with the photos. So impressed that he asked you…practically begged you to photograph Ben's upcoming fight. You think this may have just been an audition for that but you can’t be mad since he paid you for today and you got to meet Frankie. 

  He could sense your apprehension and assured you that the fights are nothing but professional and he would be there if you had any concerns. Of course you were secretly hoping Frankie would be there as well. 

  Since moving to Tampa Florida a year ago you knew dating was out of the question. The dramatic fashion in which you ended up here was enough to have you swearing off all forms of a relationship. As the months passed and you watched your savings dwindle you knew it was only a matter of time before you picked up your camera again and tried to find that sliver of hope that you hadn’t lost the passion for something you once loved. 

  Meeting Frankie was unexpected and it makes you wonder if you’re even ready for this. It seems you’re getting a little ahead of yourself because all you received when you left him was a polite nice to meet you. You didn’t miss the way his friends looked at him as though he had more to say. 

  You put the keys in the ignition of your old Jeep praying to anyone listening that it will still turn over. You know it’s on its last leg but you definitely can’t afford a new car right now. The weak ac blows in your face as it roars to life and you curse yourself for having chosen a place so humid that everything clings to you to the point of suffocation. 

  Your phone is buzzing in your tote and you already know who it is before checking. 

  “Hi Dom.” 

  “How’d you know it was me?” You take a long pause and hear her chuckle on the other end. 

  “Dominique, you’re the only person I talk to.” 

  Your sister, the only family member you can still stomach talking to. The only sane one who understood your struggles and didn’t dismiss your need to separate from your toxic mom and stepdad. 

  You felt bad leaving her behind but she had a family of her own that kept her afloat. Her wife Elise and your adorable nephew Casey were the only family you acknowledged at this point. 

  “So how was the shoot?” You can hear it in her voice. You know what she’s really asking. Are you okay?

  “It was great honestly.” You pause long enough for her to seem worried. She always worried, being your older sister. 

  “Hmmm.”

  “I’m being honest. It went a lot better than I thought. I was having second thoughts at first with this being my first one, but the second I started it was like riding a bike.” 

  “And you were fine with the fighting?” A beat of silence. 

  “Yes…it wasn’t really fighting, more so just throwing a few punches and dancing around.” You clear your throat. “The boxer is actually a sweetheart. His friend and brother were there too and they were really nice.” 

  “Ohhh tell me more about this boxer.” 

  “Oh no he’s not the one.-“ You hadn’t stopped yourself in enough time to catch the way you specified that there was one. 

  “The brother…wait no let me guess.” You groan at your sister’s incessant detective skills. “It’s the friend isn’t it?” 

  “It’s no one actually.” Which isn’t quite a lie. “Oh shit.” 

  You hear your sister frantically asking what’s wrong when you see Frankie exiting the gym. It looks like he’s coming right towards you but maybe he’s just parked near you. You don’t seem to be that lucky when he rounds the side of your car and taps on the window. 

  “Give me a sec Dom.” 

  You roll down the window as you try to calm your beating heart. He leans against the side slightly ducking to shield himself from the sun and you notice how snugly his shirt fits around his bicep. 

  “This Jeep has to be almost twenty years old.” He glances in at the pristine interior admiring your mini camera charm hanging from the rearview mirror. 

  “Wow, we’re starting off with insults.” You smile and he can’t help the way it’s already so easy with you. 

  “It was meant as a compliment.” The way he drops his voice and his close proximity has you sweating, or maybe the humidity is taking over. “Anyway…I just wanted to let you know I’ll be there on Friday. Will said you seemed a little nervous.” 

  You groan as you hide your face in your hands “Was it that obvious?” 

  He hesitates as he looks at the worry lines between your brows, wanting to smooth them out with his thumb and he thinks me might actually be losing his mind over you. “No…I’m sure it was fine.”

  Fine

  He removes his cap as he runs his fingers through his hair and it’s not evident if he’s doing it on purpose or if it’s a nervous habit but you wish he would stop looking so handsome. 

  “I look forward to seeing you and Andy on Friday.” His eyebrow arched and his lips curled up into a smile. 

  You plop your hands dramatically on the steering wheel. “I’ll be the awkward one with a camera if you can’t find me.” You both laugh and a moment passes as you wait for something, you’re not sure what. “Bye Frankie.”

  You roll up your window and sigh at the cool air hitting your damp skin as he takes one last look at you over his shoulder. You think he’s heading to leave but he retreats back into the gym and you realize he came out here looking for you. You are so fucked. 

  You shakily hold the phone up to your ear. “Dom, you still there?”

  A shriek echoes in your ear as you hold the phone away. 

  “I’m deaf now…are you happy?” You can practically see her face on the other end. All teeth and tongue as she tries to contain her sarcasm. 

  “Who’s Frankie, how does he know about Andy? What’s happening on Friday?” She’s spiraling now and you don’t have the patience to sit in this parking lot any longer. 

  “I gotta go Dom, I’ll explain later.” 

  “Don’t you dare hang up-“

  ****

  Friday

  You’d been nervously counting down the days leading up to the fight for several reasons. The thought of seeing Frankie again and the fact that Will had a lot of confidence that you were going to be perfect for the job. Despite never having watched a professional fight let alone photographed one terrified you. 

  Blood made you squeamish and the thought of possibly witnessing any broken bones had you sweating through your shirt. 

  You’re early again but Will was impressed by that. The fight is being hosted at a much larger gym so you wanted to make sure you didn’t get lost on the way. Giving yourself a once over before hopping out of your car with your tote and Andy in tow. 

  Heels didn’t seem appropriate for a fight so you went for a casual look of jeans and some thrifted tee shirt from ages ago that had Mike Tyson on the front. 

  Going anywhere alone always gives you anxiety but you muster up the courage to head inside. The moment you step through the door it’s an assault on your senses. The unmistakable scent of stale sweat and cheap cologne greets you. There’s a lot of people already here crowding around the ring and taking their seats. The air vibrates with a hum of conversations, discussions of strategy and predictions. 

  There’s a clear divide of supportive colors, some people clad in red and other patrons in all black with Miller boxing on the back of their shirts. 

  You’re thankful no one seems to notice you as you mill about searching for that one familiar face you’re hoping is here like he said he would be. 

  You’re taken aback by a promo poster of Ben along the wall. The image of the tall blonde flexing with his arms raised, looking proud as a peacock was definitely a photo you took the other day. Whoever designed the poster did an amazing job at not taking away the raw charm of the original photo. 

  “Admiring your work.” Will steps up next to you, arms crossed as he stares proudly at the photo. 

  “This poster looks pretty good for such a quick turn around.” You told him with a genuine smile. 

  He shrugs his shoulders. “I dabble here and there with photoshop.” 

  He notices you glancing around him, a small smirk gracing his features. “Looking for someone?”

  This isn’t the first time you notice how obnoxiously intuitive he is. “No, just taking in the scenery.” It’s a lie he'll let you get away with for now. 

  “I’m actually glad you’re early, if you don’t mind snapping some shots of Ben in the locker room.” He gestures towards the large double doors across the room. 

  You have to laugh at him. “I don’t mind doing my job, Will. It’s what you hired me for right?” 

  He starts walking and you follow close behind. “Sorry, I’m used to giving orders to men and asking for permission from women.” 

  “Will, please don’t ever apologize for that.” You add before he opens the door stepping aside to usher you in. His presence is so reassuring, it’s dizzying being around men that actually make you feel safe for the first time since you left home. 

  Will whistles and it echoes off the walls in the locker room. Ben glances up from his hands being taped and shoots you a nervous smile. You can tell his attitude is in fight mode, his adrenaline no doubt focused on his opponent. The bouncing, jovial man from the other day is subdued, concentrating on the task in front of him. 

  Your hands instinctively reach for your camera  to capture the pre-fight moments. There’s a woman taping his hands with red hair and strikingly beautiful green eyes. She doesn’t seem to mind as you close in on their space to get a shot of her intricate tape. Ben’s hands shake slightly but he does his best to hold them still. 

  He’s clad in all black shorts and shrugs off the Miller boxing shirt when she’s done taping. He can’t help himself as he turns to you and flexes. 

  “I think this is your signature pose.” You say as he turns to his brother, sending him a look of  ‘I told you so’. 

  “Don’t encourage him.” The woman adds as Will slides up next to her planting a kiss on her cheek. 

  “I think you both forgot why she’s here.” Ben gestures to you. “Yours truly is the main event.” 

  “I don’t know how the other guys gonna fit in the ring with Ben and his ego.” Will and the woman laugh as Ben looks less than amused and you snap a photo, candids being your favorite. 

  “I’m sorry, excuse my manners.” His hand placed gently along her lower back as he ushered her towards you. “This is my wife Amber.” 

  She raises her eyebrows at him as you offer your name and you look slightly confused as Ben scoffs. “I’m his fiancé, but I should be flattered at how eager he is to be my husband.” 

  “Wife has a better ring to it.” He leans in kissing her again and Ben just groans. 

  “They’re like this all the time. It’s obnoxious.” He says with mock disgust. 

  You snap another photo of the intimate moment, since they didn’t protest the first. I think it’s beautiful. 

  ****

  Still no sign of him

  But you can’t think about that right now as Benny prepares to enter the ring. The bright lights surrounding the room and the raucous noise is starting to get to you but you take a few deep breaths and hope you can hold out. 

  Amber and Will are preoccupied on the sideline, hyping Benny up as he sized up his opponent. Who somehow seems two times the size of the young blonde. Something tells you not to underestimate him as the stone cold look washes over his features, making anyone who stands in his path sorely regret it. 

  The crowd roars as the bell signals the start of the fight. Your camera poised and ready with your nerves and excitement swirling in equal measure. If you thought Ben sparring the other day was bad, you were wildly unprepared for the sound of the first blow to his opponent’s face. You wince behind your camera flash as the distinct grunt of a possible broken nose is evident. Ben takes a wide shot to the ribs but he doesn’t falter. Blow after blow and it seems you’re getting more comfortable with the onslaught of violence for some odd reason. 

  Perhaps it’s the way Benny has handled each one or the fact that you’re finally getting the shots you so desperately wanted the other day. He’s actually focused on what’s in front of him and not on you. You can drown out the rest of the noise besides Will's coaching and Ambers cheers of encouragement. The shutter of Andy is all you need. 

  “Sweetheart, you should take my picture.” 

  You recoil at the sweaty palm on your lower back and the pungent smell of cheap liquor invading your senses. It’s no surprise when you turn to see a random man, bloodshot eyes from too many long nights and too much booze. You already knew by the sound of his voice that it wasn’t who you’ve been expecting. 

  “No thanks.” You gesture to your camera. “I’m sort of working here.” 

  You continue to try and focus back on the fight as it seems Benny has him on the ropes and it’s not too long before the other man is going down. 

  He’s closer now, caging you against the ring as his hand threatens to move lower and everyone is too preoccupied to notice that you want to crawl out of your skin. 

  “Come on hun, you don’t have to be bitch.” The last part he practically spits at you and with his opponent keeled over momentarily Benny’s eyes flash to you like a caged animal. 

  You think for a brief moment he might jump over the ropes but he flashes you a wide grin and continues to back up as the ref gestures his hands for the countdown. 

  The pressure is suddenly off you and you feel like you can breathe again, as you whip around to see where he went. “You know you shouldn’t touch women without their permission.” Frankie’s large palm is gripping the man’s shirt as he struggles to get out of his grasp. 

  “Get the fuck off me Morales, I know you’re not gonna hit me.” Frankie's eyes flash to you briefly in worry, a signal that he knows this creep and doesn’t want to be associated with him. 

  Frankie drags him by the collar just out of earshot as he sees you turn back to the fight so as not to miss any important shots. 

  “Listen up Jones.” He grits out through clenched teeth. “You’re gonna get yourself in some real trouble one of these days.”

  “Hey, Morales I didn’t know she was your lady okay.” 

  “She’s not…” He lets out a sigh of frustration. “Just quit fucking around, I can tell you’ve been drinking again. If I don’t see you at a meeting this week I’m gonna throw you into the ring with Ben and see if he can knock some sense into you. Comprende?” 

  He releases him with force as he shrugs his shoulders, trying to smooth out his shirt. “Ya ya, you’ll see me.” 

  Frankie watches the man disappear into the crowd toward the direction of the bar and just shakes his head. You’re still there as the ref signals that Benny won the fight and he shoves his way back through to you on the sideline. 

  There’s a look of relief and something else on your face when you turn to him. 

  “Benny won!” You flash him a bright smile as he laughs to himself. 

  “He always does.” It’s said assuredly and proud as you turn back to the ring. His arms lean protectively on the ropes beside you, careful not to touch you but close enough where no one would try to push you out of the way. 

  You glance down at the monitor to take a deep breath as you feel him behind you. His woodsy cologne mixed with the fresh body wash wafts towards you. That mixed with the fact that he was so instantly protective of you has your head spinning. 

  Trying desperately to focus back on your job you realize the last shot Benny’s slightly blocked by the ropes. You let out a huff of frustration as Frankie leans down close to your ear. 

  “Everything okay hermosa? Is it Andy?” No it’s you

  You close your eyes as you let the deep lull of his voice calm you. The voice you’d waited hours to hear. The one you couldn’t stop thinking about since that first day. 

  “Ya everything is fine.” You laugh to yourself at his genuine concern for your most prized possession. “I just can’t see very well.” 

  He worries his lip hoping he’s not overstepping after your encounter earlier. “I have an idea.” 

  Intrigued, you turn to him as he gestures to the side of the ring. “Step up.” You tilt your head at him and he raises his eyebrows and points to the ledge. 

  “Frankie.” 

  “I promise I won’t let you fall.” You falter for a brief moment, but the crowd cheers as Benny runs around the ring and you can’t waste another shot. 

  He steps up behind you, careful not to touch until you’re ready as you take one hand and hoist yourself up with the rope. Your other hand is securely on your camera. You think you’re fine but the rope gives a little and you start to fall back but the breadth of his shoulders is right behind you as he instructs you to lean on him. 

  Your heart is going to pound out of your chest as you realize how intimately he has you wrapped up. His arms around your thighs hold you steady and yet you can tell he’s doing it with the utmost composure to make you feel comfortable. 

  Benny runs over to you, flexing his arms with his signature pose, coined by you. Your hands still aren’t moving and Frankie nudges you slightly. 

  “I’ve got you.” You sure hope he does for your sake. The way he’s looking at you and holding you right now, you don’t think you’d be able to stand up on your own. 

  You turn back to Benny and snap a few shots of his winning smile. 

  “Fuck me, the flash is on.” You make a few adjustments and disable the automatic flash. The bright lights surrounding the ring provide plenty of light amongst the room. 

  Frankie has to take a few deep breaths, especially when your choice of words has him thinking things he shouldn’t with your body as close to his as it could get. He’s trying to be professional, he did suggest this after all and it would be rude to take advantage of the situation. 

  He can tell you’re relaxing as you go back and forth between glancing at the screen and Benny. Your ass is perched  perfectly along his shoulder as his arms protectively bracket your legs to keep you upright against the ropes. He can smell vanilla and something familiar, even through your jeans which he’s grateful for, if not for them his cheek would be touching the smooth skin on your thigh. 

  The crowd starts to disperse as Will and Amber join Benny in the ring. Benny playfully jumps on his older brother as he shrugs his sweaty body off of him. Despite you not taking any more pictures Frankie still has you wrapped as they come over to join you. Amber sends you a knowing look and your face grows hot as you halfway pretend to look over photos. 

  “So…how did it turn out?” Ben bounds over with a gleam in his eye. Adorned with a few scrapes and bruises but otherwise untouched. 

  He leans on the ropes as you hold out the camera flicking through a few of your favorite shots. His arm draped over you and the sweat and adrenaline is rolling off him. You can’t be too upset, the man just single handedly pummeled his opponent like it was just another day. Frankie swats him playfully to save you from the post fight stench about to seep through your tee shirt. 

  “Sorry, he doesn’t really know what personal space is.” You glance down to Frankie and realize how ironic that statement is coming from the man who's been the closest to you physically in over a year. 

  “Oh shit, she got a perfect shot of me crushing his nose.” Ben jumps up and down as Will sends you a half apologetic look. 

  You’re slightly knocked off kilter as Frankie tightens his grip on you. 

  You look over to see another handsome dark haired man pulling himself up to the ropes next to you. 

  “Who might you be?” His aquiline smile and toned muscles rippled through his shirt as he grips the rope. You recognize him from the photo on the desk but opt to stay silent. Assessment was your strong suit and he seems like the type that likes a challenge. 

  Amber looks like she’s going to say something but doesn’t get the chance as you’re quite literally swept off your feet. Your grip on Frankie’s arm tightens as he pulls you away from the ropes and the sickeningly sweet man beside you. 

  “Relax hermosa, I’ve got you.” He gently sets you down and grabs your hand, pulling you even further from the prying eyes as you try to catch your breath. 

  ****

  Santiago points at you and Frankie as he shrugs his shoulders. Indignation dripping off his features. 

  “Oh, I know he’s frustrated when he’s gone non verbal” Ben teases as he ruffles Santi’s hair. 

  Will sidles up next to his fiancé, wrapping his arms around her as he leans in. 

  “You’re staring at her like a piece of meat babe.” 

  “Sorry.” She hisses under her breath. “It’s just…she would be perfect for the wedding.” 

  “I know, but why don’t we give her some space. Let her get settled in.” He nods his head toward the two of you. “Also maybe give Frankie a chance to ask her out before you ask her to photograph the wedding. It would be awkward if she said no to him.” 

  “How do you know he’s asking her out?” 

  Will lowers his voice as Santiago raises an eyebrow at him, doing his best to pay attention to Ben and eavesdrop. 

  “Look at his stance, he can’t stop moving from one foot to another.”

  “He’s taken his hat off twice.” 

  “Now his hands are in his pockets, and I can almost guarantee he’s sweating.” 

  ****

  You’re not sure what to do as he stares at you. His scent envelopes you even now that you’re apart. 

  Frankie clears his throat awkwardly as he bounces from one foot to another. He’s nervous and you’re not entirely sure why, seeing as though you’d spent the better part of the fight attached to his shoulder. 

  “I ugh…hope this wasn’t too traumatizing for you.” 

  You laugh as you dip your head. “It was definitely eventful. But you made it a lot easier to handle.” 

  He tries to hide his smile as the red creeps up his neck. His obvious nervous tick as he takes off his hat for the second time, running his fingers through his hair. You have the sudden wild urge to do it yourself as you busy your hands with the hem of your shirt. 

  “We usually go out for drinks after his fights to celebrate.” He leaves it open ended as he watches you visibly tense. 

  Shit 

  Shit

  “It’s been a really long day.” Not entirely a lie. 

  You can see his demeanor go from nervous wreck to utter panic and you can’t leave him out on a limb. 

  “Listen Frankie, I have to be honest with you. I don’t drink. I’m not a buzzkill or anything but…”

  “I’m sober.” He doesn’t mean to shout it at you but it comes out all rushed and now he can feel the sweat dripping down his back. “If that changes anything, if not I understand.” Frankie feels like he’s scrambling and realizing how much easier this was when he wasn’t sober. 

  You let out a sigh of relief as you glance to your right at the small audience huddled around the ring. Santiago quickly turns around while Amber and Will do an awful job of seeming interested in the ceiling. Benny flashing you a thumbs up as you chuckle to yourself. 

  “I would love to join you guys, another night maybe. I think I’ve had enough action for one day.” You hope the open ended invitation isn’t completely shutting you off from any chance with Frankie. 

  Every nerve ending in his body is screaming at him to stop but you do something to him that he hasn’t felt in a long time. That small subconscious part of his brain knows if he leaves it like this he may never work up the nerve to say something. 

  “Would you be up for dinner? Maybe sometime next week?” His voice cracks a little at the end like he’s some kind of pubescent boy. If the floor could swallow him whole or Benny could come over and just put him completely out of his misery that might suffice for the next few weeks. 

  You bite your lip, consciously or unconsciously. He doesn’t care either way. Some wild part of his brain wants to reach out and pull it down with the pad of his thumb. 

  “I would love to go to dinner.” 

  Relief floods his features and you have to fight the grin that crosses over your face. 

  “So it’s a date.” 

  Fuck a date. 

  You haven’t been on one of those in ages. 

  “Ya Frankie, it’s a date.” 

  He’s finally stopped fidgeting and he seems so much more confident now that you can really appreciate him. 

  You're both in your own little bubble of flirtation and you could care less who or what’s going on around you. 

  “Would it be okay if I hugged you?” 

  You smile. “I think after how close we were for the last hour it would be weird if you didn’t.” 

  His arms wrap around you instantly and that familiar scent is becoming so comforting for you. You have to fight the urge to deeply inhale as your nose is pressed against his chest. His touch is so delicate and grounding all at once and you fear you’ll grow to associate him with someone safe. 

  Why would that be a bad thing?

  The last time Frankie was this impulsive he got himself into a lot of trouble. This doesn’t quite feel the same as he tries not to inhale the scent of your shampoo as his cheek rests on the crown of your head. The way your body molds perfectly into his. The way he has to gain some level of composure when it comes to you and yet all reason has gone out the window. 

  It’s dizzying when you finally break apart. Your shoulder bag slipped slightly down and he reached over to secure it for you. 

  “Well, I should say bye to everyone.” 

  “I’ll do it on your behalf if you want to make a break for it.” He winks at you and your knees might give out right then and there. 

  Letting out an exasperated sigh. “You’re a lifesaver Francisco.” 

  You wave goodbye to more than a few confused faces and exit the gym to a mostly empty parking lot, inhaling the fresh night air. 

  ****

  “Did she let you down easy?” Benny teases as his brother smacks him on the back. 

  “Yee of little faith gentleman.” Amber says as she directs her attention to Frankie. 

  “As a matter of fact, we’re going on a date next weekend.” 

  Amber squeals and Benny pats his friend in the back as Santiago looks thoroughly annoyed at still being left in the dark. 

  Will's phone pings in his pocket and he pulls it out, the widest shit eating grin plastered on his face. 

  “Our boy is a little rusty.” 

  All heads turn to Will confusion written among their faces. 

  “You’re gonna need her number if you’re gonna take her on a date, Fish.” 

  Okay, so maybe he was a little rusty but he had a date. With you. 

  “Alright boys…and Amber. Let’s get some drinks to celebrate.” Benny jumps over the ropes like it’s nothing and heads toward the locker rooms as the rest of the men follow. 

  “Is someone gonna tell me who she is!?” Santiago yells out to them as they all leave him seemingly in the dark. 

  At least for now, Frankie’s gonna keep you to himself. 

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

Taglist- @sawymredfox @morallyinept

Next

[gyuranhae]

Oppa | (dino smut)

Pairing: BadBoy!Dino X Reader Synopsis: You should not even be friends with your brother's best friend. But it felt so good to tease Lee Chan about his need to be called oppa. Genre: smut Word Count: 5.6K Warning: HUGE MASSIVE EXTREME GIGANTIC OPPA KINK FROM DINO'S SIDE. protected sex. masturbation (f). teasing. dirty talk. praise. name calling (whore, slut). oral (f receiving). squirting. petnames (doll, pretty, baby). degradation. some level of possessiveness. pretty romantic smut. jeonghan smokes and dino drinks. Tag: - A/N: I could say that I'm sorry but I'm not I fucking love this one. also i'm a sucker for mullet dino

"C'mon, don't get so mad, oppa" You said, a large grin spread across your face "That grumpy look doesn't fit your handsome face" If looks could kill, you would have been dead long time ago, or maybe now, giving that Lee Chan looked through you as if he wanted to burn a hole in your skull. And he wanted badly. 

"Will you ever call me in the proper way without making it sound like I'm a joke to you?" He clenched his teeth, opening the beer can with rather force and gulping down hard on the burning liquid. 

"Who says you aren't a joke to me?" You smiled, earning a violent cough from Dino as he choked hard on his drink. You were the most impossible, insufferable, annoying, persistent, bratty person Chan had ever met. You were mean to him for no other reason than being funny, and he hated that he couldn't pay back. He always claimed he couldn't because you were his best friend's little sister, that he would never do anything because Jeonghan might kill him. You half wished it was true, and half wished it was because he liked you and tolerated your behavior for the sake of love. He cleaned his mouth on his shirt, breathing heavily as his patience was running out very quickly. 

"Good to know you see someone older as a joke" He sounded serious, and you wanted to die out of laughter "Good to know that respect is the least of your concerns" He tapped the counter, looking back with almost fire in his eyes as his anger boiled his insides with rage. You could see his tense jaw. 

"Oh please, I save respect for those who deserve it" You smirked, knowing you just had hit the sore spot. Earning it. Dino was known for being more than just competitive, for earning his spot on your brother's bike gang. He was known for doing anything to earn what had to earn, whether it would be money, respect or some random girl he found pretty. You weren't jealous, no. You could see the red rising on his skin, his fingers gripping back on his hand as he clenched his jaw even more, sharp eyes almost cutting you with his gaze. 

"Oh… So I don't deserve your respect, Y/N?" His voice dropped an octave, and you could feel your legs pressing against each other. Thank god the counter covered your figure from the waist down "Interesting… It appears like I'm going to have to show you how deserving of your respect I am" 

"Maybe" You shrugged, sounding uninterested on his offer to earn you "I guess you could show off how amazing you are and try to get me impressed so I can finally call you oppa without wanting to laugh" Your smirk was almost as annoying as your brothers, almost as punchable as Jeonghan's devilish smile. To Dino, it was more "Your need for my respect is… what do they call it? Ah! Cute" 

“Cute?!” Before any of you could do anything, the door of the kitchen opened with one motion, well, with one kick as your brother entered the room, cigar in the corner of his mouth and two other dudes behind him. Seungcheol and Joshua, you knew everyone in his gang at that point. Dino adjusted his posture, bowing in a 90º angle towards Jeonghan, making you chuckle lightly “Sir Jeonghan” The politeness that dripped from his voice almost made you laugh out loud, if it wasn’t for the fact that it made Jeonghan laugh out loud. 

“Sir Jeonghan? Do you think I’m like fifty five or something? You can call me hyung, kid” Your brother slapped Chan in the back, making his whole body jolt forward as the younger one gave him an embarrassed smile. Turning his whole body towards you, Jeonghan took the cigarette off of his mouth, putting it out on the little trail on the corner of the counter you were currently in “We’ll be gone for like, some hours. I’m leaving you some money and if you need anything…” Jeonghan slapped Dino’s back again, the clear pain being visible on the boy’s face “Lee Chan won’t hesitate to come right to your service, right Chan?” Your brother’s smile was as sarcastic as it could get. 

“Y-Yeah, I’ll come right away…” He sounded embarrassed, as if he wasn't almost shouting at you like two minutes ago.

“Yeah, that’s all. You know the drill, just doing some races for the money. I’ll be back before four AM. Let’s go guys” Jeonghan gave you a tight hug and handed you the cash, indicating the door to the others as he pulled another cigarette from his pocket, ready to light. You and Dino exchanged looks, his filled with rage, yours filled with excitement. He couldn’t help but mouth “I’ll kill you when I come back” before leaving, making you giggle like a child. 

-

You were extremely tempted, Dino’s number on your screen looking more delectable than ever. One move and you would cause Chan’s temper to burst out of rage, you knew how much he loved to be on those races, along with your brother’s gang, the feeling of being on a motorbike, speeding up and earning money from doing so. You knew he would never forgive you for taking away the experience of finally feeling like he belonged somewhere, even if the older one’s teased him all the time. You grunted, frustrated that your morals and stupid heart were speaking louder than your head, not letting you call Lee Chan and ruin his night. It was not your fault that you liked his company, even if ninety percent of the time he was annoyed by you.

Throwing your phone to the side, you jumped on the bed, laying spread as you stared at the ceiling, sighing loudly. You just couldn’t get him out of your head. His slicked back mullet, a hair strain that always seemed to fall on his exposed forehead, his strong eyebrows that furrowed everytime he got concentrated on something, his lip piercing that every now and then would get caressed by his tongue as he licked his lips. You were obsessed with the way he dressed too, you swore you never saw someone as stylish as him, his leather jackets and tank tops making your head spin in circles. And how could you forget the way he looked when he was on top of his motorbike? Gloved hands gripping on the handles, the way he took off his helmet, hair always a bit sweaty from the adrenaline of running around. Dino was a walking temptation to you, and it was even harder because he was your older brother’s friend, which meant he was off limits. 

Lost in your thoughts, you failed to miss the way your hand automatically traveled south, diving inside your pajama shorts and panties, fingertips lightly rubbing your sensitive clit, a soft moan escaping your lips as you closed your eyes and thought of the one you loved. Everything about Chan was too good to you, his piercing gaze as his dragon eyes looked you up and down with disapproval, his strong arms that tensed up as he gripped onto something to control himself, his clenched jaw as he bit his tongue and let you make fun of him. He was so handsome, even when angry, and that made you crazy. You let a finger slide inside your folders, imagining it was his long fingers, toying with your pussy and making you moan, your other hand grabbing the pillow underneath your head. 

“C-Chan…” You let out, hips arching away from the bed as you let another finger dip into your heat, your walls clenching from the thought of him being with you, rubbing your cunt and dragging you into a messy kiss. You dreamed of kissing his lips, yearning to know how it would taste, would his piercing make everything taste like iron? Would his plush tongue dive into your mouth, making you feel the taste of his favorite can beer? Would he drag his kiss across your jaw, biting and sucking into your skin as your hips rode his hand, his calloused fingers curling up inside you and brushing up against your sweet spot? Your back arched as you felt the coil underneath your stomach appear quickly, your fingers working inside of you just like they did every night. Your mouth stood hanging open, whines and moans erupting from your throat as your folds gripped around your hand and wet your fingers. 

“O-Oppa… P-Please…” You would never say it out loud, that you liked calling him oppa. That you were into the visual of seeing him getting full of himself as you finally addressed him the way he wanted with proper respect. That the idea of calling him oppa as he dived into your body got you turned on. You would never ever admit to him, nor to yourself, that you loved calling him like that, that you wanted to call him that while he railed you in any position “O-Oppa, I’m so close…” Your head was thrown back, eyes starting to gather tears as your fingers pumped in and out of your pussy. The gushing sounds should make you embarrassed, but they only turned you on even more, just the thought of being this wet because of him making you moan out loud again. Thank god Jeonghan wasn’t home. The coil on your stomach got tighter, your legs closing as a reflex as you chased your high desperately, needing that sweet sweet release. It wasn't long until you felt yourself squirting, ruining your underwear and shorts, your mind going blank as the wave of pleasure cruised through your body and made your legs shake, your chest moving up and down rapidly as you tried to compose yourself. Your fingers lingered a bit too long on your heat, the little shock of overstimulation making your hips halt as you stabilized your mind back to reality, eyes slowly opening to stare at the ceiling again. You wished everything you had just imagined was real. 

“Y/N?” You froze. Your mind was too foggy with the lust you were feeling, that was it, it wasn't Lee Chan’s actual voice calling for you, right?

“Y/N… did you mean to call me?” It was his voice, coming from your phone, that got tossed to the side like one of your clothes. You rushed, fumbling around with your covers and with your messy hand, cleaning on a towel you had for these occasions before grabbing your phone. You were on a voice call with him, and you don’t know how long he had been hearing you. 

“U-Uh, C-Chan! Good that you picked up! I need you to pass to my brother, need to talk to him!” You tried to cover your embarrassment, swallowing thick as you hoped he bought the idea that you called him to talk to Jeonghan. Your hands trembled, the anxiety washing over you as he took a little bit too long to answer you. 

“... Are you sure you want to talk to him?” The emphasis on him made you bite your lip, your heart beating fast. He had noticed your little plan “... I can come back if you need something. Jeonghan is busy” You froze again. Lee Chan was offering to come back? The Lee Chan that always whined and complained when he needed to get you something? “Besides, he told us that I would come back if you needed something, right?” 

“... Right” Your voice was above a whisper, your body had sunk on itself as you sat on the floor of your room, back resting against the foot of your bed. Your body was numb, both from your orgasm and from the talk. 

“Jeonghan-hyung!” You heard him call your brother, his voice sounding a bit more far away “Y/N said she’s not feeling very well, I’ll come back to check on her okay? Don’t know if I’ll be able to come back… I’ll be there in twenty” His voice sounded closer to the phone on the last bit, the call ending shortly after, leaving you holding your own phone while staring blankly at the wall in front of you. You couldn’t tell how much Dino had heard, nor what his reaction was. You hoped you weren’t screwed, the last thing you needed at this moment was the boy you liked becoming distant because he heard you masturbating and moaning his name. 

Those were the slowest and most agonizing twenty minutes of your whole life. You walked from side to side in the living room, checking the wall clock every five seconds as if that was going to make the time stop, wishing that Chan never arrived so you wouldn’t have to face him at all. But at last, you heard the bell of your house ring, a breathy sigh leaving your lips as you turned your body towards the front door, praying for it to not be him, or for him to not look you in the eye. Your hand twisted the door knob, opening just a little bit of it and slightly looking through it, your gaze being met with Dino’s as he looked back at you with an indecipherable look. 

“Hm… Can I come in?” You couldn’t figure out what the tone was, if he was disappointed, worried or just calm. You opened the door whole, turning yourself away from him and walking straight to the kitchen, not wanting to look him in the eye. You sat at the stool from the counter, hearing his steps as his boots stomp their way into the kitchen, a sound of plastic shuffling around caughting your attention. You looked back, seeing as he placed a plastic bag on another counter, checking the content on it and then turning himself at you. You quickly looked back to your front, ears and cheeks burning red from the embarrassment and feeling of being near him after what happened. 

“Ignoring me is not gonna help, y’know” He sounded calm, opposite from you at the moment. You swallowed thick before looking back again, head low as you could barely look him in the eye. He was laid back against one of the counters, elbows holding his torso up. You couldn’t see a trace of grossness or rage on his face, remaining quiet as he looked back at you, up and down “... Did you mean?” 

“W-What?” You wanted to curse at your body as your voice cracked, your hands gripping against the fabric of the pants you had changed to. 

“Did you mean to call me at that moment? Or did your dumbass accidentally call me?” Hearing him curse you felt more natural, a bit of the tension on your body leaving as you relaxed a bit. Hopefully he was still the Dino you knew. 

“Of course I meant to call you! I said that I wanted to speak to Jeonghan” You pouted, crossing your arms as you tried to keep the narrative from earlier on. You wished he would bite it. 

“... So you wanted Jeonghan to hear his little sister moaning one of his friends' names while she touched herself?” Your face dropped. He had heard everything. He even had deducted perfectly what you were doing, not that it was hard to with your moans and whines. He straight his posture up, crossing his arms and walking closer to you. You sunk against yourself again, looking up at him as he stared at you with clouded eyes “I’m not saying I liked it but… I got kinda disappointed when you stopped” 

“H-Huh?” Your voice got caught in your throat, your confused eyes searching on his for some clear answer. What did he mean by that? Did he enjoy hearing you?

“Don’t play dumb, doll” One of his hands gripped your jaw, holding your face still as you watched the light on his eyes shift “You were moaning my name and calling me oppa while fucking yourself. Don’t tell me I heard shit wrong cause we both know what was happening” His voice dropped an octave, your thighs rubbing on each other as a reflex “I kinda wished you kept going, I was really enjoying hearing you desperately calling me like that. Needy and ready to take me” His words made you want to whine, but you held back, still scared of what he would think of it, even if he had just admitted getting hard from listening to you. 

“I…” You could only muther, mind still trying to process all of the new information. His lips smirked, the piercing shining against the light of the kitchen. He let out a big sight, letting go of your face and making you lean a bit into his touch, wishing he had kept his hand there. 

“But I guess I can do nothing, since I’m not deserving of your respect, right?” His smirk grew larger as he noticed your face drop even more, your words from earlier lingering across your mind. Your mouth opened to protest, but no sound came out of it, your head burning to find an answer quick enough “What? Did the cat finally get your tongue?”

“Chan, please…” You didn’t even notice your current state as your voice pleaded for him. Your puppy eyes looked up at him, glazed with a shiny coat of tears that threatened to fall from the corners. Your legs were squished together, heat searching for friction, while your hands gripped tightly on your pants, fingers fumbling with the soft fabric. The view of you in such a vulnerable state, begging for him, made a sharp sting run across Dino’s cock, his turn to swallow hard as his bulge became even more visible through his tight pants. He straight himself, looking you up and down yet again before holding your jaw once more. 

“... You’re gonna be nice and do everything oppa tells you to do?” He arched an eyebrow, watching carefully as the light in your eyes shifted too, your throat swallowing the lump it had formed on the bottom of it. 

“Yes oppa” There was a tremble, a breathiness in your tone that made Chan hiss, fingers gripping tightly your face. He was quick as he grabbed one of your wrists, pulling you up and dragging you out of the kitchen, not before grabbing something inside of the plastic bag and tossing it in his pocket. You couldn’t even process before he threw you inside of your room, somehow managing to close the door as if your brother could come inside at any minute. His aura as he approached you, so intimidating, making you feel small, at the same time so inviting and making you want to beg for him. The feeling of his arms wrapping around your waist was wonderful, his body gluing to yours as his lips searched for yours. 

Making out with him was more than just heaven, it was borderline addicting. His lips felt so soft, with just the right hint of roughness whenever his piercing pressed against your own lips. He tasted like the most amazing mixture of alcohol and snacks, a lingering sensation of beer with a mixture of caramel, and when he moaned against your mouth, gosh, you felt your legs almost give in, being secured in place by his strong embrace. Your fingers tangled with his soft locks, feeling the texture of his slick back hair, pulling ever so slightly whenever he bit into the kiss, a soft whimper coming out of your mouth and just fuelling Dino even more. His tongue overlapped yours as you two got lost into each other's touch, his need for dominance and control making your folds get slicker and your thighs to press against each other, your balance already betraying you and only pushing you further into his arms. 

“You’re so annoying…” He said between the kiss, teeth slightly biting your bottom lip as he pulled away softly, diverging his attention to your jaw, dragging his tongue across the line of your face as you shifted your neck, allowing him more access “Always poking fun of me and making me mad…” He bit and nibbled your skin, leaving a trail of reddish marks as his kisses traveled south, the feel of his warm tongue leaping along your neck making your head spin in circles. Was this really happening? “But gosh, you couldn’t be more beautiful and tempting, could you?” His words made you blush, the crimson tint spreading across your flushed face and ears, a whine leaving your lips at the praise “Just the most gorgeous person I’ve ever met… And so funny too, just so fucking annoying, and only with me” He pulled away, fingers gently pulling your chin so you could met his fiery gaze. A mixture of lust and passion, his vision seemed clouded, filled with you, just like your senses were filled with him “Tell me, Y/N, why do you love to annoy me?”

“Want your attention…” Your head didn't have control over your mouth anymore, your thoughts spilling from your lips without hesitation as if you were under some sort of spell casted by Chan. Your eyes looked up at him, asking for more “I want you for me…” A smirk grew on the corner of his lips, the arm hooking around your waist pulling you even closer, his hand dangerously close to your ass, where you wanted it to be.

“Oh pretty, you already have me all for you” His confession made your heart thump loud in your chest, your hands gently squeezing his shoulders “Wouldn't want anyone else but my sweet little Y/N. Even if Jeonghan chops my dick off” You chuckled lightly. Sure, Jeonghan did said to all of his friends that if they touched you, they were dead, but he would never get in the way of your happiness “I’m all yours, baby” He whispered, pulling you into another intense kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as his body guided you towards your bed, laying you down as he climbed on top of you. Your legs easily spread open to allow him access, his hands caressing you through the fabric of your pants, his fingers gently squeezing your thighs the closer he got to your heat. He broke the kiss momentaneously, searching in your eyes for consent to take them off of you, eyes growing cloudier with lust when you nodded a bit too eager in agreement. His fingers hooked in the waistband, dragging the piece of clothing off slowly from you for the tease, enjoying when he saw the pout grow in your lips at your impatience. You’ve been waiting so long for this, and so was he, but he wasn’t going to give in that easily. He was gonna pay back all those years of teasing you made him go through.  

Your lack of underwear made him curse under his breath, and the wetness adorning your folds made him lick his lips, dragging a thumb across your cunt, making your hips buckle out of sensitivity. He took the wet thumb to his mouth, licking it while keeping eye contact with you, the sinful view of him humming and smirking directly at you making a breathy moan escape your lips, your fingers daring to move towards your pussy and gently touch your sensitive bud. 

“Don’t worry princess. I’ll take good care of my little slut” He sounded so endearing, all while adjusting himself between your legs, strong hands holding your thighs open with enough force to leave bruises. You could feel his breath close to your folds, your head getting thrown back when he licked a stripe across, your mouth not holding back sounds as his wet muscle skilfully worked on your heat. He gave open mouthed kisses, capturing your clit between his lips and sucking on it, one of his hands releasing your leg and scooting closer, fingertips teasing your hole with shallow touches. The feeling of the cold piercing dragging along your hot cunt sent a shiver down your spine, your mind starting to get fuzzy as he introduced a finger inside your hole, slowly prepping you while his mouth continued to eat you out like the finest dessert. His eyes kept fixated on your image, soaking in all the information, from the way your breath hitched when he curled his fingers, to how you whined when he flicked his tongue on your swollen bud, to how you were fighting to not close your thighs around his head, legs shaking from the way he dived into you with his mouth. Dino could feel your walls clenching around his finger, smoothly adding another one to the mix and scissoring them, a brief smirk growing on his glistening lips when you moaned his name as he hit yet again that spongy spot that made you see stars. He could tell you were short from cumming, his tongue dragging across your slit, only to plant a wet kiss on your sensitive spot and abruptly stop, fingers leaving you empty. You flushed your eyes open, the red tint that spread across your face and covered chest looking a bit too adorable to Lee Chan.

“W-Why did you stop?” You whined, wanting to close your legs but being stopped by his hands. He spread them open even more, making you sink in embarrassment as you felt exposed to his eyes, your hands trying to fly to your face to hide the shyness. 

“Don’t you dare to hide your face” He sounded so stern, a tone that you definitely weren't used to hearing from him “Want you to cum on my cock. I can make you cum on my tongue another day pretty” You felt yourself contracting around nothing again, a whimper being your only response as he started to take off his own clothes. He was as fit as you dreamed, his toned torso calling out to you, your arm stretching and fingers grazing lightly on his abs, his skin felt soft yet so warm. You fumbled to take off your own top, the cold breeze hitting your skin and making you hiss, the view of your exposed self sending another sting run through the shaft of Dino’s dick, his hands desperate to take off the leather pants and boxers that confined his hard on. His hand immediately flew to his cock, pumping it a few times to spread the pre cum that leaked through his tip. 

He was bigger than you imagined. He had good girth, and his tip was blushed in a pretty shade of red and faded pink, the veins popping out from how hard he was. You could feel your mouth salivating at the view, the thought of having him on your mouth making you sigh. Before completely tossing his pants on the ground, Chan rummaged through one of the pockets, grabbing what he had brought on the plastic bag earlier and finally allowing you to see it, your face covered in red. He ripped the package of the condom with his teeth, his long fingers working fast and rolling the latex across his shaft.

“Really bad timing but…” You could see the concern on his face, his eyes shifting between your exposed groin and your face “Are you a… virgin?” Lee Chan bit his lip, clear anxiety adorning his handsome features. His concern was sweet to you.

“This may make you upset but no” You said with a little embarrassed smile. Sometimes you wish you could turn back time and have your first time with him, but you wouldn’t have the knowledge you have to please him. His face relaxed, a grin slipping through his lips. 

“Not really, could not give two shits about your body count. I’m confident that you’re not gonna want anyone else after this” His confidence gave you butterflies on the stomach, your wet folds pooling liquid. 

“As if I wanted someone else” You rolled your eyes playfully, earning a light chuckle from him. His smile took away all of the angst and evil boy image he had, your heart filling up with content. Dino adjusted himself, his tip teasing your hole and making you wiggle your hips a bit. He held you with one hand, strong grip pinning you down.

“Behave Y/N” His cut-through gaze looked back at you, his hips finally moving and length diving into your heat. You two hissed at the feeling, your walls clamping around his dick like vices, the wetness welcoming him in and making you swallow him whole in a single thrust. He was right, you would never want anything else than the sensation of Chan inside you, his cock filling you up just in the right way and resting perfectly there, as if you were made for him. He supported himself by putting both his elbows on each side of your face, his strong build caging you underneath him and pushing a few more inches inside you, your head thrown back and eyes rolling back to your skull. His lips glued to your neck, leaving wet kisses and even more hickeys across your skin as his hips started to move, slowly coming out and snapping back at full force, your whole body jointing with the movement. 

Your hands grabbed his biceps, nails leaving red stripes and moon-shaped indents on his muscles while his gripped the pillow underneath your head, the tension making his forearms veins pop. Your moans filled his ears and gave goosebumps on his skin, the sensation of being the one making you almost scream in pleasure fuelling him further and making his hips pick up the pace, pistoning in and out of your cunt with force. You could feel your walls gripping him, yearning to milk him dry and to keep him inside till he couldn’t stand, the effervescent sensation running through your pussy and pilling up underneath your stomach, a coil quickly appearing as his thrusts kept typing you over an impossible edge. Dino’s mouth kept glued to your torso, his sloppy pecks and licks spreading across your chest as he spoiled your breast with attention, teeth nibbling at one of your nibbled before taking one of your boobs on his mouth, sucking and licking with no shame. Your hands traveled to his muscular back, the fire feeling of you scratching down bloodshot lines and marks shooting pleasure stings directly to Chan’s dick, balls swelling in the need to cum, his own coil bubbling right above his groin. 

“Such a whore…” His voice sounded raspy, hands massaging your chest as his lips continued to work wonders around you, head fuzzy with the sensation of him on you “My whore, right baby?”

“Y-Yes, oppa” The title made both of you moan, your eyes barely open to see how his aura got fuller of itself, knowing he had managed to make you cockdumb within a few minutes.

“Good girl, all mine…” The cold piercing dragged across your neck, his teeth biting your skin and leaving marks that would last for days. His hips started to get quicker, the sound of skin to skin having your cunt wetter and gripping harder around him, your coil starting to get tighter, just like his. His low grunts and breathy moans became louder, following right along your chants of his name and dragged out whines, your bodies tensing up as your orgasms approached faster than expected and washed over you two like a wave. The white out spread throughout your vision, the shock of such an intense climax making your legs shake and cunt clench impossibly hard, begging for Dino to cum together, which he did. His own body took a screenshot, dick shooting ropes of cum onto the protection as he moaned your name on your ear, his melodic voice gracing your hearing before he let his body relax, gently laying on top of you like a blanket. 

There was a few minutes of silence, just the two of you picking up your breaths, the sudden feel of heaviness and tiresome sinking down and settling on both of you. Your hands caressed his hair, your arms half hugging him while his did the same, caging you in a tight hug. He placed a kiss on your shoulder, lifting himself through his forearms before looking back at you. The image of him sweaty, hair falling into his forehead, blow out pupils and puffy red lips, cheeks tinted with light pink made your walls cramp again, a hiss coming out of his mouth. 

“I just…” He tried to search through words, not knowing how to express his feelings properly without sounding either corny or cringy “There’s no other way of putting it. I love you, Y/N” Your heart thumped yet again loud inside your chest, your fingers caressing his face gently before pushing him in, mouth clashing with his in a heartfelt kiss, your actions saying much more than words could. His smile while kissing made you smile two, the lovey dovey atmosphere being almost dumb. Before Dino could continue further, you two heard a loud crash coming from the other side of the house, your bodies freezing. 

“Y/N-yah! Dino-yah! I’m home! I bought some stuff for us to dine on!” Jeonghan’s voice made you bite your lip, the task of muffling a laugh failing as soon as your gaze crossed with Chan’s, you two giggling like teenagers. He slowly pulled out of you, the feeling of being empty leaving you a bit sad, but also eager to have him once again. Dino threw the used condom on the bin next to your desk, rummaging for his clothes and quickly dressing up so he could go talk to Jeonghan. Before leaving the room, he opened the door, lookin at you up and down with a hungry gaze, lips sliding upwards in a devilish grin. 

“We’ll continue this later, baby. You’re not sleeping tonight”