#this outfit is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.. whenever i see it i just feel like im free falling from the roof of a three | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

99hook · 1 year ago

Text

Insufferable

Synopsis: Two people who swear they hate each other’s guts but they just can’t leave each other alone

Warnings: angst, pining, a bit of choking, oral female and male receiving, creampie, semi-public sex, Tyler has a filthy mouth, enemies who end up fucking, basically.

A/N: this is that “you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid” trope with an extremely arrogant Tyler and YN who knows how to push every single one of his buttons. This is also like 3 requests in one fic so Enjoy babes!

The requests were:

• Shower smut (enemies to lovers edition)

• “You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid”

• facefucking

if you sent those in, thank you besties here they are🫶🏼

“Don’t say shit.” You glared at the man standing in front of you. You’d just gotten back from your match and you already knew you looked a little rough around the edges. You were sure you’d have a black eye in the morning and the last thing you cared to hear was anything Tyler Senerchia had to say.

Unfortunately, he was never good at keeping his mouth shut. It’s surprising to you how he hasn’t gotten his teeth knocked down his throat yet, but maybe you’d have to be the one to do it one of these days. Either way, he had that annoying ass smirk spread across his face the minute he caught sight of you and you just knew he was thinking of something, anything he could possibly come up with to annoy the shit out of you.

“You look like someone just beat the shit out of you.” He smirks, eyeing your hair wildly scattered about and the red welts on your skin. “You sure you’re ready to step in the ring with pro wrestlers? You might need to toughen up a little more before someone puts your little ass in a coma.”

Crossing your arms defensively, you felt your left eye twitch, which was not so coincidentally something that tends to happen whenever that man is in your vicinity. “You talk a lot of shit for someone who got knocked out with his own title.” You snap right back, watching his dark eyes narrow.

“At least I had a title. Last I checked, you lost every championship match you’ve ever been in.” He counters, his lips tipping up slightly when he sees the anger swirling around in your eyes.

“Should probably ice that eye. Looks like she got you pretty good.” He points out with a condescending smirk still playing on his lips.

“Shouldn’t you be in Tony’s office with your daddy bribing your way into another title shot right now?” You watched his jaw stiffen, feeling a little satisfied about that.

“I never had to bribe Tony for shit. I earned everything I have, unlike you, miss shorts that doesn’t even cover my ass.”

“You sound fucking stupid. It’s ring gear. Everybody wears the same shit. And I don’t use my body for bribery, if that’s what you’re trying to say.” Your voice was a little louder than you intended but thankfully nobody else was in the hall.

You watched his white teeth show with the scoff he let out. “No? You don’t? So you just wear shit like this-“ his hand motions over you, rather dramatically, “for the hell of it? I doubt that. You only get tv time because you’re eye candy for the dumb asses who are stupid enough to be interested in you. That’s all you got going for yourself, and I think you know that too. I mean, look at your win loss record. You’re probably the worst in the woman’s division.”

He always had a way of getting under your skin and you hated that you gave him the satisfaction of letting him see how angry he made you. But for some reason you always came back to the banters.

“You know what?” Your eyes flared.

“What?” He piped up.

“I don’t give a fuck what you think about me. I have plenty of fans who love me because I’m a badass wrestler and I don’t have to prove shit to you. Maybe I’ve never held a title but I’ve gone out there and given my all in that ring and i’m only eye candy, but I could walk out there in a nun outfit and still have people screaming my name, so nice try but you’re just spitting bullshit and you know it.”

You hated that easy smirk that seemed to always be on his face and wished more than anything that you could literally slap it right off.

“Then do it.” He shrugs. “Cause I’m highly doubtful and I would love to prove you wrong, and watch you absolutely humiliate yourself more than you already do when you get your ass beat every single week.”

You fell silent and he stood there with that infuriating look of satisfaction.

“Like I said, just eye candy.” He says before he brushes past you, bumping your shoulder with his arm.

“Go fuck yourself” you mumbled, but he heard it.

“I don’t need to do that.” He shrugs his shoulder. “But from this little attitude you got, it sounds like you do.” He smirks, stepping close enough that your chest was brushing against his. “I’m sure one of your creepy, perverted fans would be more than happy to help you out with that.”

“I’m sure one of the random hookers you meet on the street would be more than happy to get in your car again.” You snapped back, and all he did was let a low chuckle slip through his lips.

“Trust me. Anybody would be happy to fuck me, but unlike you, I’m not desperate.”

“Your constant visits to the strip club say otherwise.” You quirk a brow, wanting to take a step back but you didn’t want him to think you intimidated him.

“Looking and touching are two different things.” He calmly states. “And why are you keeping up with my life anyway? Aren’t you supposed to hate my guts like you tell everybody?” The corner of his mouth tips up as he eyes you slowly. “Or are you just that obsessed with me?”

You were the one to scoff at that, shaking your head. “You’re so fucking conceited it makes me sick.”

He takes a step back and chuckles lowly. “And you’re the worst liar I’ve ever met in my life. You know why?” His voice had a new edge to it, filled with condescension.

You didn’t respond, only stared up at him with piercing eyes as he tilted his head slightly to the side.

“You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.” He almost whispered, allowing his eyes to linger down to your lips and then to the deepening redness on your cheeks.

“I would never fuck you.” You spat, almost quite literally.

“Cause I’d never let you.” He quickly counters, taking another step back until there was a breathable distance between you again.

“I would never want to.”

Obviously he didn’t believe that, but you didn’t believe him either. You knew him pretty well simply because of all the time he takes out of his day to play these little tit for tat games with you, and for that reason, you knew there was some kind of motive behind his constant bantering and teasing. Unfortunately for him, you didn’t want your hands on him unless it was to strangle his throat, literally.

He eyes you again, making sure to hold that dark stare long enough to make you a little nervous. That always happened and you never really knew why. But then, he takes a step foward and closes the space between the two of you almost fully once again, and you felt your heart start to thump hard against your chest.

“Next time you lie to me, at least make it decently believable. Go practice in a mirror or something, cause I can practically read your mind right now and all I’m seeing is you wanting to get bent over and fucked until your body collapses. And I’m not opposed to a little pity fuck. If you want it that bad, I can be charitable.”

His words left you speechless staring up at him for a couple of seconds while he let his eyes linger down to your lips once more, almost as if he was debating to kiss them, but fighting against it. But then you snapped back to reality and realized who you were listening to that shit from and immediately felt the rage bubbling up inside again.

“If I ever gave you the opportunity to fuck me, it would be because my life’s being threatened and the only way to save it is to fuck the most arrogant motherfucker on the face of this earth.”

You watched yet again as his lips tipped upwards and his eyes seemed to have sparked something new within them, before he shrugged one shoulder and slid his tongue over his lips.

“That’s funny, actually, cause I remember one of your little friends telling me otherwise.” You knew exactly what he was talking about and felt yourself internally wanting to scream.

“I was so fucked up, Tyler. Like drunk off my ass. Whatever I said that night, I never meant it. Don’t let it go to your head cause I promise you the last thing I want when I get in my bed at night is you.”

“Yeah?” He challenges. “If that’s the case I wouldn’t hear you moaning my name when you’re alone in your hotel room. You know we’re on the same floor, right? My room is right next to yours. Didn’t know that, did you?”

You felt your cheeks burning, like a thousand fires were blazing beneath your skin. So yeah, maybe you’d been caught up about that but it wasn’t because you wanted Tyler. It was just that it was rather undeniable that the man would probably be mind blowing in bed. He carried himself with that cocky demeanor and that air of sexual energy around him that you just knew he would be outstanding but, that smart mouth and arrogant attitude kept you from even attempting.

“What’s the matter? Nothing to say? You’re not even gonna try to deny it?” He smirked. “You know, I was gonna pay you a little visit right after that cause I figured your fingers probably didn’t do you justice but, then I thought about it and decided it was best for everyone on our floor if I didn’t cause clearly you’re a little loud by yourself, you’d get us kicked out of the hotel if I was fucking you.”

You swallowed thickly and your eyes adverted down to the gold cross sitting over his hoodie, in an attempt to avoid those dark eyes. Tyler was surprised you had nothing to say back. Usually you always did. That’s when he realized he either took it too far and humiliated you or he just figured you out completely, calling you on this bluff that you can’t stand him.

“Why are you so silent all of the sudden?” He asks, taking a slight step closer. “I just called you out for fantasizing about me and you’re not even trying to choke me out right now. What is it, yn? Did you mean it when you imagined me being the one fucking you instead of these-“

He reached down and grabbed your hand, sliding his thumb over your fingers before you felt him cup your chin. He raised your head and your eyes locked with his.

“Did you want me to be the one making you moan my name? Cause you can admit it to me, and I can make it happen right now.” His voice was deeper, raspier, almost breathy and as much as you wanted to push back like you always did, this time, you knew it wasn’t going to happen.

You watched his adams apple bob in his throat, his eyes slightly softening before a new blaze ignited within him when you simply shook your head and said, “I want to be the one to make you moan my name, not the other way around.”

“I can’t make promises on that.” He said as you felt his hand tighten around your fingers, as if he was letting his nerves subtly get the best of him.

“I can.” You whispered, and within a split second you were pinned against the wall with his hands locking your wrists together above your head. You gasped out but it was caught by his lips landing on yours, as if he really was the one who had been desperate for this all along, like you already expected.

It was all happening so fast that you couldn’t even catch your breath but something about it had you instantly wanting more the second he pulled away and he saw that in your eyes, and being the arrogant man he is, all this did was fuel him. Start a fire that nobody would be able to put out until he was satisfied with the way he plans to absolutely ruin you.

His eyes glanced to the end of the hall before he looked back down at you. His lips were swollen and chest heaving, as if he was a caged animal dying to break free.

“We can’t do this. Not here.” You managed to breathe out, watching ideas swirl around in his mind until he thought of a specific place he’d always imagined would be good for fucking at, cause that’s just the type of shit he randomly liked to thing about.

That lead to him pulling you down the hall, feet rushed until you passed talent standing around. Neither of you wanted anyone to know what you were about to go do and everyone was under the assumption that the two of you despised each other so, needless to say you got some weird glances from eyes all around when you were spotted walking side by side, but nobody said anything.

He brought you to the showers that not many people prefer to use, because it was at the other end of the arena and there was another set of them closer to the locker rooms. In his mind those showers were installed for this specific reason. And you didn’t even know they were down there until you walked in and seen three stalls with only single curtains separating them from anyone who might walk in.

“This is risky.” You tell him the second you glance around the room. “Anyone could walk in.”

“And they’ll walk right back out.” He mutters as he wraps his arms around your lower back and pulls you into his chest, locking his lips with yours once again. All of those hesitations were immediately washed over with the way he was backing you up against the wall, his lips rhythmically moving against yours.

“Look who’s desperate now” you hummed against him when his hands moved down to your shorts, fingers hooking under the waistband before he pulled back, and yanked them down to your ankles with a smirk on his face. He came eye level with your exposed core and glanced up at you as he brought one finger to run down your folds.

“It’s still you.” He says as he collects the wetness on his digit. “You’re dripping for me right now.”

Your head fell back against the wall and you kept your eyes on the door, until you felt his fingers spread your folds, and his warm tongue immediately followed, sliding from your entrance to your clit, earning your hips to jolt towards him and a low “oh God” to slip out.

“No baby” he muttered against you. “It’s Tyler. only name you need to remember is mine, and I wanna hear you wear it out”

You felt his tongue slide up again, the warmth sending tingles through your entire body. Your mouth fell open and eyes screwed shut as you allowed it all in, and his eyes stayed trained on you with every single motion.

He brought his forearm up to pin your hips, keeping you still as he swirled and flicked his tongue over your pulsating clit, reveling in the mixed sounds filling the room. He felt your hands tangle up in his hair and tightly grasp a fitful, your body was so effortlessly reacting to him in a way he knew he’d be thinking about when it’s all over with and you two probably go back to despising one another.

He knew there wasn’t a likely chance he’d be able to do these things to you again, whether you craved it or not, so he was going to make the absolute most of it.

He tilted his head so his tongue could flick at a different angle, and judging by the way you inhaled a sharp gasp and exhaled a series of broken whimpers, he assumed you liked that.

“Knew you were gonna be a moaner” he smirks against you, his hot breath lingering against your sensitive skin. “Don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to let me do this”

You heard that, and much like him, you didn’t know how to keep your mouth shut. You attempted to recollect yourself but your words still came out as one long, drawn out moan when you looked down at him, locking eyes and said, “You just admitted how desperate you are to fuck me”

His tongue stilled and eyes narrowed, but only for a split second before he brought two fingers to your entrance and without warning, pushed them in and roughly curled them against that one sweet spot that he somehow effectively and effortlessly found.

Your eyes rolled back and head hit the wall again. “What was that, baby? You were saying something? What? That I’m desperate? Sounds like you’re the one that’s desperate right now, moaning and whimpering from just two of my fingers.”

He curled those fingers back and to, hitting that spot that kept you from being able to argue back, and he took pride in that.

“Nothing to say now, huh? You were just talking all that shit, now you can’t even speak properly. You’re to tight, so wet, you’re dripping to the floor right now and all I’ve done is touch you.”

You peered down at him, catching the view of his dark eyes watching you come undone above him. A smirk spread across his lips when he noticed your cheeks flushing, eyelids fluttering and you just couldn’t help it even if you wanted to.

His fingers skillfully pumped against you, making your whole body erupt with goosebumps covering every inch of your skin.

“Bet you’ve thought about this before. About me on my knees for you, getting a taste of this perfect little pussy while my fingers fuck into you. Bet that’s exactly what you wanted that night you were touching yourself in your hotel room, and I’m sorry baby, but I was under the impression that you couldn’t stand me. Or else I would’ve been doing this all night long.”

Just his words were making your head spin. His raspy voice and the condescending edge that you couldn’t admit you loved so much. You were on the verge of letting yourself fully succumb to him but, just as soon as that release approached, it was ripped away when he stilled his fingers and rose to his feet, keeping those digits curled against your g-spot, but not daring to do more.

You involuntarily arched off the wall and he smirked at that, but he didn’t allow anything else when he pulled those slender fingers out of you and brought that slick hand up to your throat, wrapping around it and slightly squeezing. His lips barely touched yours as he applied a little pressure, enough to make your head spin.

“I got something for that smart ass mouth.” He groaned, using one hand to push his shorts down to his thighs while the other one held that pressure on each side of your neck. “On your knees.” He demanded, and you did exactly as you were told.

You dropped to your knees, your eyes now giving his cock your full attention. You knew he’d probably be impressive but at full mass, standing tall and proud, he was massive. Or at least massive compared to anything you’d had before him.

You took his shaft with one hand and immediately felt his hand tangle up in your hair. You trailed your tongue from his shaft to the tip, swirling around it a few times just to see what he’d do, and that lead to him gripping a handful or your disheveled locks.

You cupped your lips around his tip, tasting the saltiness of the precum before you relaxed your throat and took in as much as you possibly could. He felt his tip hit the back of your throat and let a breathy groan pass through his lips, looking down as he watched his cock disappear between your puffy lips.

You held your eyes on him as you started bobbing, doing your best not to gag on his size but when he thrusted his hips forward, that was long forgotten.

“Fuck you’re pretty on your knees like that” he muttered, his brows furrowing as he kept snapping his hips.

You rotated both hands around the length that just wouldn’t fit in your throat as you continued sucking him in, letting him use your mouth and throat as he stilled you with his hand gripping your hair and thrusted faster instead.

He started panting, his heavy breaths lingering about in the air as you stared up at him, feeling tears prick the corner of your eyes and there was no use trying to hold them back when he thrusted forward and knocked the back of your throat.

“Are those tears?” His voice was filled with that typical condescending edge and you wished you hated it as much as you say you do. “What’s wrong, y/n? I never took you for a crier before. Wonder if there’s some other ways I can make tears stream down that pretty face.”

You kept your mouth open as he fucked into it, unable to push your head back due to his hand still gripping a fistful of hair. You felt the tears sliding down your cheeks, new ones pushing the previous ones out every time his cock hit the back of your throat.

“God I love seeing you like this. Can’t even argue with me. Too busy getting my dick shoved down your throat.”

You watched as he pressed one hand to the wall, his upper body bending slightly over you as he started to slow the thrusts down, and a low reverberation of appreciation he would definitely deny, slipped past his lips when he felt your tongue flatten on the underside of his cock. Something he was probably going to miss when it’s all over with.

You felt his hand slowly unravel your hair and his fingers slide down your cheek until they cupped your chin. You pulled off of him with a soft pop and looked up at him. You were sure you had mascara staining your cheeks but, he liked it.

“Up” he demanded, and you rose to your feet. His eyes lingered to your swollen lips and his thumb came up to them, pressing against the pink, puffy flesh before he pulled your bottom lip down slightly.

“Still got that attitude?” He raspily whispered.

“I’ll always have this attitude.” You copped back, watching as an amused look lingered in his eye. He glanced down at your naked lower half and the wetness smearing your thighs. Then he leaned to the left and turned the shower knob, water casting down that you knew you were about to probably be under.

“You’re a mess. Should get you cleaned up.” His hands roamed from your hips up to the end of your gear, the tight top that he would deny, but he really liked when you wore. You let him slide it over your head and suddenly felt self conscious as you stood in front of him, fully naked so you grabbed the end of his hoodie and slid that over, and he stepped back to remove his shirt underneath, leaving him wearing nothing but that gold cross around his neck.

He nodded his head to the shower. “Don’t worry, I’m still gonna fuck the shit out of you.” He smirked as he placed his hand on your lower back to guide you in. You spun around the second the water casted down on you, scorching your skin until that heat was forgotten as he wrapped his arms around you and switched places, blocking most of the scolding hot drops.

“Wow, you actually did something nice for me.” You tease, feeling his thumb stroke your lower back.

“About to do a lot of nice things for you.” And then his lips were latched to your neck, his fingers found themselves intertwined in your soaked hair and all you could do was let the feeling in. The tingles on your skin mixed with the strange feeling of fire erupting through your veins and he was the cause of it all.

You sighed deeply as he walked you back, pinned again to another wall by his body pressing against yours. He was aiming to leave reddened patches over your skin and it wasn’t long before he pulled back and saw the mark he made, which would be a pretty nice sized hickey you’d have to lie to your friends about.

You stared up at him a bit breathless, and he looked down at you with lustful, impatient eyes. He had so many thoughts swirling through his head but the first thing he planned to do was make sure there was no way you wouldn’t be thinking about him every single night before you go to sleep from now on.

He reversed your places, now with his back against the shower wall that he planned to use for leverage. His hands found your hips and he lowered himself slightly, angling his hips forward so that his cock was positioned perfectly at your needy core.

His eyes caught yours just as his tip brushed over your heated skin, his hand wrapping around his shaft to keep it there as he slowly slid it around, teasing like you already expected from him.

“Not sure you can handle this, but I’ll let you try.” He smirked, and all that did was make you want to prove yourself to him so, you grabbed him in your own hand and adjusted his tip to your entrance before you angled your hips foward and pushed him in.

Right from the start he was overwhelmingly stretching you out. You could feel him taking every space between your walls and claiming it all with his size. You had to bite down on your lower lip to keep from whimpering, and he held his hips still, as much as he wanted to push in deeper, to give you time to adjust to him.

Your hands found his shoulders and his found your hips as he helped you take all of him, easing you through it until he felt his tip hit your cervix, proudly at that.

“Take your time” he whispered, and with no smart ass comment behind that remark, which was surprising.

But you, ever the sarcastic girl, shook your head and looked into his eyes, making sure he hears you when you say, “Don’t need to”

And with that, you started rocking your hips back and forth, his length stretching you to your limits with every move you made but deliciously so. It was a pain that you knew you weren’t going to be able to get enough of. Already addicting, you were fucked from this point on.

But that’s okay, because so was Tyler. He was doing his best to hide it, but the way you were gripping him so tight, sucking him right back in every time he glided out was making his head spin. He wanted more already and he knew that was going to be the case when the two of you go back to your normal after you leave the shower.

“Fuck” you breathed out, wincing when he pushed in deeper.

“Taking me better than I thought you would” be groans out of pure anticipation. He’s trying so hard not to get carried away and it’s not working out too well, because feeling your nails dig into his skin and watching your teeth sink into your lip is quickly becoming his weakness.

Your eyes peered open through the steam surrounding the two of you and you caught sight of his expression. For once he didn’t have that cocky arrogance even though his words were full of it. He looked like he’d completely succumbed to you. His eyes were focused solely on your reactions, filled with undeniable admiration even though you knew he’d never admit to that.

He kept his back pressed against the wall but his hips pushed against it, starting to go a little faster simply because he couldn’t help himself, and one of his goals was to hear you moan his name while he’s the one making you feel good.

You felt his fingertips dig into your skin, hands tightly gripping your hips as he guided your every move. You looked down to where his cock was disappearing inside of you, the feeling so intense you could hardly keep your head up.

Moans and whimpers quickly morphed into cries and whines of pure pleasure as he snapped his hips back and to, driving so deep inside of you that you could barely take it.

“That’s it baby, let me do all the work while you take my dick like a good girl. Matter of fact-“ he pulls out quickly, surprising you until he spins you around. You pressed your hands to the shower wall to keep steady and as soon as he entered you again, his fingers intertwined yours.

You arched your back and he leaned away slightly to watch as he fucked into you. Your ass jiggled each time his hips rocked into you and the look of that alone was almost too much for him, coupling that with your walls having a vice grip around him, this man was nearly done for.

Your cheek pressed against the wall, mouth couldn’t figure out how to stay shut for the first time as a list of unnatural noises came flying past your lips. And Tyler loved every single sound you made.

He folded over you, his lips finding your neck where he decided he just wanted to leave another purple patch in their place. Your head lolled to the side, letting him do whatever he wanted as he kept thrusting into you.

The sounds of your skin slapping and a mix of moans, whimpers and heavy breaths overpowered that shower water casting down on the tile but neither of you cared at that point.

He pulled off of your neck with a pop and his teeth grazed the shell of your ear, sending goosebumps skating down your whole body. His heavy breaths were puffed in your ear and you were quickly realizing you loved the sound of him like that, whether you liked that fact or not.

“Next time you touch yourself, this is what you need to think about” he breathily whispered, punctuating his words with harder thrusts. “And when your fingers aren’t leaving you satisfied, then you need to call me.”

Your eyes rolled back as he slammed into you. He leaned back and grabbed your hip, keeping your steady as he picked up the pace. You quickly started feeling your stomach coil, a pleasurable sensation that was taking over too rapidly to process.

“Oh my God” you cried out.

“I told you baby. Tyler. I’m the one you need to be crying out for. Only name that needs to come from those pretty little lips is mine.” He slams into you once again, now holding both of your hips as he thrusts with a speed that had you seeing flashes of white.

He grabbed a handful of your wet hair and pulled your head back, his lips coming to your ear once more.

“I don’t know what you’re gonna tell your little friends when they ask you why you’re walking funny” he mutters against your cheek, “or why there’s hickeys on your neck” he adds as he pulls out halfway, just to slam right back into you. “But I’d love to be there when you give them your bullshit explanation, and if you say any other man aside from me did that to you, I’ll fuck you right there in front of them.”

He leaned back up and gripped your hips again. “Cause baby, I’m not letting anyone take credit for the way I’m ruining you.” His fingertips grip your hips so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave red marks in their place. “And as much as you might wanna keep this our little secret, I’m just not sure you’ll be able to do that for very long. Not when I’m done with you.”

At that point you barely could comprehend him, but that was until he pulled out of you, just to spin you around. You came face to face with him again. He wanted to see what he was doing to you and needless to say, looking at how blitzed you were, he was pretty proud of himself.

He then wrapped his hands under your thighs and lifted you up. Your legs felt like noodles but you still managed to wrap them around his hips. There was a familiar sting when he pushed himself back into you but you quickly realized that you loved it, and unfortunately you were probably going to want it again after this.

He held you up as he rocked into you. The shower water had started running cold against his back but he didn’t care. He was so hyper focused on you that he didn’t even feel the ice droplets against his skin. And that man hates cold showers.

“You’re so pretty while you’re getting fucked” he huffed out. “Wish you could see yourself right now. See how fucking hot you look with my dick stuffed inside your perfect little pussy. All those marks on your neck. Fucking gorgeous just like I knew you’d be.”

Your mouth fell open but nothing but those inhuman sounds could come out. Your hands gripped his biceps and you felt his muscles stiffen beneath your touch. Your eyes fluttered to get a good glimpse of him but it was all so blurry. You were on the edge of an impending high and apparently he knew exactly what to do to bring you over.

“Next time you open your mouth to say some smart ass shit, remember my dick getting shoved down your throat, cause that’s exactly what ima do, baby. From now on, you’re gonna be a little nicer, or you’re gonna get that pretty throat ruined.”

You moaned at that for some reason you really didn’t even know, and especially when you felt his teeth scrape over your jaw, his lips peppering delicate kisses down your neck was such a stark contrast to the way he was fucking into you so roughly that your brain had completely checked out.

“I know you’re loving every second of this. I can feel it. Your pussy squeezing me so tight, can’t hardly let me pull out of you without sucking me right back in.” He rasps against your slick skin, reveling in the moans that are ripping through your lips. “You want to come on my dick so bad you’re shaking, baby. You’re practically begging for it.”

Your eyes fluttered open and caught his. His hair was slick against his skin, eyes low and rather hazy. He had sweat beads slipping down his temple and looked like the absolute picture of perfection, as much as you hated to admit it.

His lips landed on yours, taking you by surprise in that moment but you easily kissed him back. His tongue surpassed and entered your mouth, finding your own tongue as he slowed his thrusts down from hard, sharp snaps of his hips to slow, smooth and languid pushes in and out of you and for a moment it felt so intimate that you almost fought against it but, it also felt right, and you decided not to overthink that and just let it happen. You’d ignore the feelings it brings later.

His hands cradled your face as his tongue danced with yours. You felt his cock push back into you easily, yet carefully, and he held it there for a few seconds before he pulled halfway out, just to do it all over again.

He pulled his lips back and both of your eyes opened. For a moment you were both so caught up in the emotion that suddenly aroused, you both wondering why things just took such a turn but Tyler was quick to snap his hips and pick up the pace again, because like you, he didn’t want to overthink.

Caught by surprise once again, your head fell back against the shower wall his name rolled off the tip of your tongue way too easily.

“Fuck” he groaned when he heard it. “So fucking hot when you moan my name like that, angel. Fucking love it.”

“Please don’t stop Tyler, please, I’m so close I-“

“Wasn’t planning to, baby” he snaps his hips again and buried his face in the crook of your neck. He keeps you held up when he feels your body going limp, knowing your orgasm was about to rip through you and he was more than just ready for it.

Your eyes screwed shut as you held him tightly against you, feeling him hit your sweet spot over and over until your entire body suddenly erupted with the warmth that you’d been aiming for, pure euphoria rolling through your veins as he rocked your through it.

“Fuck, oh my- Tyler! Fuck!” You were a babbling mess as you felt that high crash into you, along with his merciless hips. He thrusted three more times before he stilled those hips. Low grunts and groans of his morphed into the air with your higher moans and whimpers.

You were barely comprehensible at that point when you felt your feet get placed gently on the shower floor. He slid out of you but kept his face buried in the crook of your neck for a couple extra seconds, both attempting to catch your breaths.

After a minute or two, he picked his head up to look down at you. He now had tired eyes and a lazy smirk plastered on his face, but there was a lot of pride evident in those dark eyes and it immediately made your cheeks tinge red, though you tried to hide it by dropping your head.

That’s when you felt his finger curl under your chin and lift your gaze back to him. “Tell me again how you’d only let me fuck you if your life depended on it.” He smirked, and you couldn’t help but do the same as you looked into his unusually soft eyes.

“I mean, I was feeling nice today. Don’t get used to it.”You shoot him a look as you step out the shower.

“You were not feeling nice today. Maybe you’re feeling nice right now, but not earlier you weren’t. You might as well just admit it, YN.” He steps out the shower and placed himself in front of you, leaning down to grab your clothes off the floor before he hands them to you.

“Admit what, Tyler?” You grabbed your clothes and gave him a cross look.

“That you just wanted me to fuck you.” He shrugs with a boyish grin, and as much as you do try to act like it annoyed you, it wasn’t so much anymore. Not as much as you wished it did, anyway.

“Why don’t you admit it?” You countered as you slipped on your shorts.

“That I wanted to fuck you?” He asks as he slips on his shorts and pops the band against his waist. “Okay, I mean, obviously. I just did, didn’t I? See I can admit things, but you never can. That’s your problem. You like to try to hide things to much.”

“Appreciate the advice, Dr. Phil, but I really don’t have anything to admit.” You crossed your arms after you slipped on your shirt. He hated that there were clothes on you again but he wasn’t going to tell you that.

“Nothing?” He quirks his brow. “Nothing at all?”

You peered your eyes at him, noting how he was trying to act like he knew something he clearly didn’t. You shook your head and stepped back towards the door.

“Nope. But I need to go fix myself up before my friends see me looking like this and ask me what the fuck happened, thanks for that.” You bite out, but all he does is let his eyes linger down to those purple patches he left on your neck.

“Yeah, well, when you’re begging for more, you know where to find me.”

#hook aew #hook #aew hook #hook imagine #hook x reader #tyler senerchia #hook nation rise #aew dynamite #send hook

158 notes · View notes

mcmorare · 25 days ago

Text

@infear (jett) sent: "you don't know just how bad it hurts."

At this point, she's stopped even trying to run from him, whenever the entity (that's what Dwight calls it, whatever it is) throws them together. He would just chase her down anyways, yelling for fucking everyone to hear. Logically, there's no point in hiding things here, not only because of their repetitive shared trauma, the close circumstances, but also because, well, what do they all have to lose anymore? The worst has happened. That doesn't mean her senses of shame, guilt, humiliation have left. That doesn't mean the instinct of self-protection is anywhere near gone. None of these people need to know these things about her. And if they learn, they don't need to learn it from anyone else. She's had rumors spread about her before. She's not eager to have it happen again.

So here they are. Nearly pacing holes in the floor of this room. It doesn't make it any easier, that they're stuck as they were that day. That moment. There's a bloodied patch on his show outfit that won't ever leave, now. Does it hurt? The wound? Is it stuck in that moment, never being able to heal? Did the force that brought them here have the mercy to administer some sort of supernatural anaesthetic, to spare him the eternal pain of a lung breached by metal? Is there a constant ache with every breath, a reminder of what she did? Of the look as the only person who loved and understood him stared back at him with nothing but shock and fear?

"I don't know just how bad it hurts? Really?" Arms are crossed, brows furrowed. "You think this doesn't hurt every fucking day for me? You think it isn't in the back of my mind? Fucking hurting? Do you know how much I looked forward to that day?" If you look hard enough, you can see that quick little extra blink that points to the burning of unshed tears. "That was all I looked forward to. For weeks." Going to work at that stupid fucking job that wasn't going anywhere, going back home to that house that was never a home, nothing on the horizon, no prospects, no hope. He knows what her situation had been. Hell, even before that day was an actual, solid date in the calendar, the thought of it being something that could maybe happen one day - how many times had she thought of that to help her have something? Anything to look forward to? That there was someone out there who understood, and knew, and cared, and actually fucking saw her, and one day, even for just one day they would see each other again, and for one day she would be happy. She never set her sights on anything big. Just one fucking day.

They're going to be stuck here forever, now.

And despite all of it, she misses her best friend.

Before, she would tell him everything. She had someone to tell everything to. Now they're stuck here, the craziest thing that's ever fucking happened to her, and she can't tell him about it. All she wants is to be able to talk to him about things again. She just doesn't know how to get back there. He's the only thing here she knows, trusts, at all, and she can't let herself do that. It's lonely, not knowing how to get back there. "Do you think it doesn't hurt to be in this situation and not be able to talk to you about it? Do you think I want things to be this way?"

#dbd verse tbt.#infear #infear ; jett #injury tw

3 notes · View notes

chuuyascumsock · 5 months ago

Note

POOKIE <333 how are you my gorgeous angelfish??

I NEED TO RAMBLE SO MUCH IVE BEEN HOLDING IT IN-

so.

a lot has happened these last few days!!

i went to a casino themed party which was fun! (guess who won blackjack 😋 not w real money- don't gamble kids

AND i actually liked??? what i wore??? woah???

and i bought a bunch of books for myself !!! and also a dinosaur sharpener because he was calling to me

and i made some dividers for myself! literally the same as my normal ones but w nendroids of the sillies on them 🥰 i love them too much. probably because i spent half a day trying to go on various different editing sites to see which one would let me remove a background for free T-T

and this is kind of old- but i have a summer hat w strawberries on it and i love it so much but i have no one to wear it with :((

MWAH

Hello my beautiful wifey 🫶🫶

Casino themed party sounds so cool (I’d gamble all my money away if I ever went to an actual casino. Can’t believe my older brother said he’d take me to a casino when I’m 21 just so he can teach me to gamble. Literally that is the worst idea 😭). I bet you looked so slay and stunning in your outfit, wish I was there so maybe you’d take your bets on me and let me take you out sometime 😚

What kind of books did you get and what kind of dinosaur is your sharpener bc it’s very important to me that I know everything ✨

Making things that will slightly make life convenient but spending forever on them is real.

And the hat sounds so cute, I have a Garfield hat that says “I hate Mondays”, maybe we could do a cute gf core aesthetic and Garfield gf aesthetic 😮‍💨

I’m doing okay, I dyed the tips of my hair from pink to blue to match my outfit for pride (which I’ll probably take a picture of tomorrow. I’m going with a few friends, but I feel like it’ll be just my one friend Libby and I hanging out (not her real name as to not reveal much as well as any other friend names) because our friend Teagan is also going to have some of his other friends hanging out with us and whenever he hangs out with a certain one of his friends (his best friend), they tend to ignore Libby and I’s existence which I can understand to a certain extent because they’re best friends. Admittedly, it hurts our feelings a little bit but I don’t know if we’re just overreacting. We try to be friends with his best friend so bad but she kind of brushes us off and our friends Teagan says it’s because she doesn’t have many girl friends, but she said she wants more. I’m just wondering— if you want certain friends, wouldn’t you try and put in the effort even if you’re not used to it instead of just saying you want certain friends, but then ignoring multiple friendships with said people you say you want to be friends with? I don’t want to be mean, but I genuinely don’t think she likes me and my friend keeps saying she does, but her actions make me really think she doesn’t like me. (Maybe I’m overthinking because a lot of people would tell me they liked me when growing up, but would exclude me and not like me behind my back :[ ).

#casual ask #sorry for the ramble back

2 notes · View notes

xihe1874 · 2 years ago

Text

2k foreplay and fluff, that's my Christmas gift to this lovely fandom and all of you, my dear friends 😊

--------

Christmas. The best and the worst time of the year.

Best in the sense that he can have a long holiday, laugh with his family (the Bradshaws) and friends, and sleep in next morning. Winter in California is not bitter at all, and Maverick can idle the whole afternoon away under the warm sunlight. Maybe if luck is on his side, Ice will be staying in their shared base-assigned house instead of hanging out with Slider. Then they can have a drink together at dusk and watch the sunset together. He will get to see how the golden colors melt in his wingman’s blue eyes, which is guaranteed to be more beautiful than anything in the world. Ice is more beautiful than anything in this world.

Worst, in the sense that they have to go to the Navy’s Christmas party tonight, which means a fancy restaurant and fancy clothes. And that means a shirt and a bow tie.

Maverick never questions his intelligence and talent, really, but after the tenth time he knots the thing into an ugly mess, he can’t help but swear loudly.

“Damn!”

Footsteps, then a blonde head pops around the door.

“What happened, Maverick?”

In the full-length mirror, Maverick can see that Ice’s outfit is perfectly done. Of fucking course, that bastard is good at everything. Ice is wearing a white shirt similar to his own, a pair of charcoal pants, and a blue-gray bow tie which brings out his eyes. The shirt wraps around his body marvelously, and Mav can’t help but gulp. Seriously, that waist should be deemed as illegal. And that ass.

“I just can’t get the bow tie right. Damn it, I will go to the party without this nasty thing.”

“You shouldn’t. The dress code says ‘formal’ and that means a bow tie.” Ice walks towards him, eyeing his unbuttoned neck.

“Then I will just not go, maybe call in sick, Mr. looky-here-I-am-following-all-the-rules.”

Ice snorts and sits down on his bed (Maverick’s bed, and the said man is trying very hard not to think about this). He reaches out to turn Maverick around with one hand. “Just let me help you.”

So, Mav is now standing in front of a dazzlingly dressed Ice in his bedroom with nothing to distract him, his shoulder still warm from the touch. The blonde holds two ends of the necktie in his hands and tugs at the olive green cloth to pull Maverick closer, probably just for the sake of easier handling, but the brunette suddenly forgets how to breathe normally. He is now bending slightly, his thighs touching Ice’s knees.

Ice is not looking him in the eye. That’s fine, as he is frowning with concentration, focusing on the task at hand, and Mav can just use the opportunity to admire him closer than ever. Ice has little freckles around the nose that Mav decides he wants to kiss. There are some flush on his chiseled cheeks, but that must have been because of the beer they shared one hour before. As he is towering Ice now (which doesn’t happen everyday), he can clearly see how Ice’s long eyelashes flutter whenever he blinks, and Mav really wants to feel the movement in his palm.

The blonde is doing some complex things with the tie. His hands brush Mav’s neck right behind the ear, sending a shiver down Mav’s spine.

“A bit closer.” Ice murmurs, and tugs the tie again. Startled out of his stupor, Mav gasps and stumbles forward, ending up between Ice’s legs. He braces his arms against Ice’s shoulders for support and can’t look away from that pair of pale eyes.

“Sorry.”

Is he imagining the hoarseness in Ice’s voice?

Mav doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he just simply shakes his head. He has no idea what is happening, as being this close to Ice turns his brain mushy and his blood electric. He can hear nothing other than his own deafening heartbeat in the ears. Sandwiched between Ice’s strong legs, Mav feels like every inch of his body is on fire.

How ironic, that he will be burned to death by someone named Iceman.

Ice grunts, his breath hot against Maverick’s neck. “Seems I don’t know how to tie for others…”

Despite himself, Maverick teases instinctively. “The mighty Iceman admits his failure?”

“I never did this before.”

“So I am your first?”

He meant it like their usual banter, some harmless jokes and innuendos, but Ice looks up.

Oh my , Mav thinks dimly, his eyes are even more breathtaking up close . And we are really close.

There is something in his eyes, raw and profound, painfully earnest and open. Like all of a sudden, the giant mask is broken into pieces and the most vulnerable soul of Tom Kazansky is revealed, bleeding with every ounce of sincerity. He is now looking at Mav as the shorter man is the most precious treasure in the whole world.

“Yeah,” Ice speaks quietly, so quiet that Mav thinks he must have imagined hearing it, “Yeah, you are.”

Maverick is stunned into silence. He searches his wingman’s eyes for any sign of jokes, waiting for the punchline.

It never comes.

They just stay there, breath mingling, Mav in between Ice’s legs leaning to the taller man, Ice’s hands still holding the necktie. They are trembling slightly, Maverick notices, as he drowns in the endless blue in the other’s eyes.

“We still need to get this done.” Ice’s voice is nothing but a whisper.

“Yeah.” Mav breathes.

“Turn around.”

Before Maverick catches up with what has happened, he is facing the mirror, Ice standing up and behind him. Being manhandled by Ice like this, however gentle, excites Maverick beyond anything, let alone that he has already half hard quite a few minutes ago. He bites on his lower lip to suppress the whimper, and finds Ice scrutinizing the movement when he looks at the mirror.

“I will tie your bow tie…” Ice is pressed into him, whispering in his ear, “... like I did mine.” Ice is embracing him tightly and he is everywhere . The scent of his aftershave makes Maverick giddy, and he involuntarily leans back.

Ice is hard too, he suddenly realizes.

The blonde nimbly ties the clothes into an excellent bow in less than ten seconds. But he doesn’t draw back his hands. Instead, he keeps one near Mav’s collarbone and rises the other up the brunette’s jaw, caressing his ear lobe.

“Ice.” Maverick is horrified by his croaky voice. “Ice… what,” He draws breath sharply, feeling one second away from exploding from all the desire, “what are you doing?”

The blonde stills.

“You… you don’t like it?”

He steps away, withdraws his hands (Mav mourns the loss of contact immediately), opens his mouth — to apologize, probably — but Mav has had enough. So he turns to Ice and grabs the blonde by his perfect bow tie, and smacks their lips together.

Oh.

So that’s what kissing Ice likes, the parts that still function in Maverick’s brain (not many) think. Sweet, tender, gentle, warm. Perfect. Like flying - like flying with Ice.

Maverick sneaks his hands behind Ice’s back and pulls the other closer. Their pelves rub against each other, making Ice moan. Mav grasps the opportunity to explore Ice’s mouth ( God, his mouth ) and teeth with his tongue, taking greedily and giving wholeheartedly at the time.

Ice nips at his lower lip and licks it, and then Mav literally melts .

When they stop for air, Ice is panting and flushing, lips swollen, his perfectly done hair now a platinum mess. ( I did that , Maverick thinks proudly, I did all of that )

“Mav, fuck, that was…”

“Still think I don’t like it?”

“No.” Ice smiles, “You like it.”

Maverick presses his face into Ice’s chest and breathes him in, his hands wandering aimlessly on Ice’s back. The blonde is stroking his hair and he is almost unable to restrain from purring.

“I have wanted to do that for so fucking long.”

It takes Maverick several seconds to realize it didn’t come from him. He draws back just to look the other in the eye.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“But…”

“I just don’t know whether or not you are interested.”

The laugh comes uncontrollably. Soon, Maverick is convulsed in laughters and has to force himself to stop because Ice is now putting on his “what the fuck are you doing” face.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just… We really are a pair of goddamned idiots, aren’t we? ‘Interested’ is the understatement of this fucking century when it comes to you. No, of ten fucking centuries, whatever that is called.”

“Millennium.”

“Pardon?”

“Ten centuries, that’s a millennium.”

Maverick stares at the blonde and shakes his head. “God, I can’t believe I may have fallen in love with you.”

He belatedly registers that he just makes a love confession. Panic arises, but is quickly dismissed by Ice’s shrugging and saying “I am also dumbfounded by the fact that I may love you too”.

Relief and glee fill his heart. Mav pushes the blonde all the way back until they reach the bed, and shoves Ice onto it. He kneels and smirks smugly at Ice’s groan.

“Mav, you don’t have to…”

“Oh, but I have thought about this for so many times, sucking you off in my bedroom when you are in a suit.”

“Your sexual fantasy sounds very detailed.”

“That happens when you gather enough of them. I have a full list of the time, place, and context of our potential blowjobs.”

“Now you have my attention.”

Maverick tucks at Ice’s belt and the blonde readily offers help. “Like after our hop, I will suck you off in your jet, where anyone can see and catch us when my mouth is around your cock…” Ice moans and slows down pulling down his pants.

“Or… you can give me head tonight at the party, maybe in the toilet, all the brass will be outside and can walk in on us anytime…” Ice is now breathing heavily, his eyes almost losing focus, “... after that you will fuck me right there and I will have to go through the rest of the party with you cum in my ass…” Mav brushes Ice’s erection (still trapped in his underwear) lightly, making Ice throw his head back and curse loudly.

“Fuck, Mav, stop teasing.”

“Or you know, some years later, when you are an Admiral and I am just… a Captain, let’s say? You will summon me to your office when I do something stupid and order me to suck you… I will be stark-naked while you are still in your full uniform… Maybe you will spank me too… Or I will spank you?”

“Stop.” Ice rests his hand on Maverick’s head, virtually panting. Maverick reaches out to undo Ice’s bow tie and then the shirt buttons, placing his hand on that perfect chest to feel Ice’s heartbeat (and maybe to flip that nibble and hear Ice catch his breath). “Stop, Maverick, or this will end before anything starts.”

“You are gonna come in pants just because I am talking dirty to you?”

“Oh, babe, I am gonna come for much less than that when it comes to you.”

The blonde’s eyes are all dark and full of lust now. It’s a good look, Maverick thinks, and he is oh-so determined to bring that out again in the future.

“Maybe we should just call in sick tonight. Both of us.”

“Will they… ah, will they believe us?”

Maverick sucks on the inside of Ice’s left thigh and is satisfied with the sounds Ice is making.

“Sure. Just say I have infected you.”

When Maverick turns to remove his own clothes, Ice puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Take all off, but keep that on.” He tugs at the bow tie with some force, not enough to suffocate the brunette, but making him feel the strain. Almost like it is a leash, and that image makes Maverick whine. “After all, it’s Christmas, and I did spend a hell lot of time making it right.”

Oh, isn’t Mav happy to obey that.

#icemav #iceman x maverick #ice #pete maverick mitchell #top gun fanfiction #top gun #top gun 1986 #icemav fanfiction

10 notes · View notes

dearestones · 2 years ago

Text

Death Note Matchup: Yagami Sayu

Warnings: Fluff.

Anonymous Request: Hi! I’d like to request a yandere death note matchup (either gender). I’m okay with either romantic or platonic, whichever one works best!

In terms of appearance, I’m rather short (at 5’1”), with shoulder length black hair and dark brown eyes that look black, at least according to my peers. I typically like to wear clothes with a more “soft grunge” style. To me, it’s cute, and I really, really like cute things.

Personality-wise…I’m usually very quiet, and I just observe everyone else. Talking casually to other people also isn’t very easy, since I prefer to have a goal to complete when talking to others, such as finding out certain information. I…rather suck at feelings, and it takes awhile for me to figure out exactly what I’m feeling.

I’d say my best traits are that I’m focused, calm, smart (according to everyone), good at planning, and quick to notice details. My worst traits are that I tend to see the worst in others, I give up easily, I overthink the hell out of everything, I’m forgetful, and I’m extremely (emotionally) sensitive. If you raise your voice at me, I will cry.

I’m really interested in true crime, along with any sort of horror book. However, I don’t like horror movies. Jumpscares are a really cheap way to “scare” the viewers, and I hate it.

For a weird fact, I really like borzois. I don’t even own one, but I just find their long snouts to be quite comical. Have you ever heard one bark? You’d expect it to sound deep, but it’s not, for some reason. They’re just so…weird.

Thank you, and have a nice day!

After reading through your description, I believe that you best pair well with Yagami Sayu!

Sayu absolutely loves your style! She’s more on the feminine side of fashion, but grunge has its own charms and she thinks that it suits you quite well! And you also like cute things? Sayu will definitely ask you to go shopping with her whenever you have the chance. Furthermore, she’ll definitely take the time to ask you for opinions on outfits to wear and if certain styles suit her better than others.

And, oh my, you’re shorter than Sayu! She’ll definitely exploit this by wrapping her arms around you whenever you least expect it, sneaking behind you, and maybe even talking about how cute you are compared to her.

It’s okay if you don't often talk to people. As a gregarious person who is adept at all sorts of situations, she’ll definitely do the talking for you. In fact, that’s probably how she met you. Maybe you were observing people in a crowd all by yourself and she just happened to notice you. Almost immediately, she knows that you’re straightforward when seeking conversation, which is something she’ll say reminds her of her older brother and her father.

In addition, she’ll also pick up on the fact that you’re not as attuned to emotions, but fear not! She thinks that it suits your personality. If you happen to catch feelings for her, she’ll notice the different nuances in how you act around her, but won’t say anything. If anything, she’ll wait and see if you figure out your feelings by yourself instead of rushing you. Either way, if you notice and confess, she’ll accept your feelings and praise you for acknowledging your emotions.

Sayu needs someone like you in her life. While she has been raised alongside her esteemed older brother, she knows that she falls short of her parents’ expectations. Even if she tries her hardest, she could never surpass her brother. She’s smart in her own way, but she’s not particularly focused and the future as a concept is somewhat hard for her to grasp. With you at her side, she’ll grow to trust and depend on you because you help keep her in check.

As for your negative traits, Sayu still accepts and loves you for who you are. Seeing the worst in others can be good in some situations, especially when you need to keep your guard up, but she’ll gently guide you into allowing people’s actions to speak for themselves. Furthermore, as long as you try your hardest before giving up, then that’s all that matters. Sometimes, quitting is a good way to establish healthy boundaries or to map out your personal limits.

Overthinking? And forgetfulness? What a combination! Sayu is also not always on top of things, but maybe the both of you could invest in a planner or notes that would help you recall important chores or details.

Lastly, emotional sensitivity is no trouble for Sayu. Of the two of you, she is more emotionally attuned, so if you become overwhelmed, she’ll talk you through it or be a steady presence at your side. She will also never raise her voice at you.

As for your interests, Sayu is also more than well acquainted with some of Japan’s famous crime stories—some of which can be verified by her father! She’s not too interested in true crime, but she’ll gladly bring you to the police department or set up meetings with her father or Matsuda so that you can get the law’s side on many of the infamous crimes that have taken place in Japan.

Sayu didn’t know what borzois were before meeting you, but she thinks they’re quite charming! A little weird to look at, but she can see the appeal after you explain them to her.

As you can see, the both of you complement each other well. Balance is a tricky thing to cultivate and maintain in a relationship, but with how intuitive Sayu is and if you’re willing, you’ll definitely reap the benefits of a healthy friendship and eventually, a romance.

If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel freehttps://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

DEATH NOTE MASTERLIST

#death note #dn #death note sayu #dn sayu #sayu yagami #dn sayu yagami #death note sayu yagami #character matchup #death note matchup #dn matchup #dearestones #devintrinidad

4 notes · View notes

revisitingstoneybrook · 10 days ago

Text

#44 Dawn and the Big Sleepover: Chapter 2

A typical Chapter 2 with one of the worst Claudia outfits ever and that's saying something.

The Pike Army gets down to business writing letters and have decided what they'll send. Adam's sending the pennant after all, Nicky's sending the decals (stickers!), Byron's going to take pictures of the family, Vanessa's going to write a poem, and Jordan's going to tape record himself playing piano. Margo still doesn't know...well, since those last two are following their one personality trait, why doesn't Margo just puke in a jar and mail it?

As Dawn walks home, she can't stop thinking about how fascinating the Zuni are and is pretty jealous of the kids. She whines a bit about how she wishes the middle school did it too and goes into the house, pouting. Mary Anne takes one look at Dawn and thinks the Pikes tortured her. And look at how one-note Margo is - one of Mary Anne's guesses as to what happened was Margo got sick!

Sharon and Richard are in the kitchen together cooking a casserole and Dawn breathes a sigh of relief when she sees Richard's the one doing most of the work. She says Sharon's cooking is "eat at your own risk." She's definitely added dish soap while cooking before. While they finish cooking, Dawn complains about how she wants a pen pal on the Zuni reservation too. Mary Anne quotes her dad and says "Youth is wasted on the young" (you're, at most, six years older than these kids) and suggests Dawn write to the elementary school to get a pen pal of her own in the middle school.

Dawn praises Mary Anne for such a wonderful idea. It's the most logical one, Dawn. What's with these girls calling any idea someone thinks of brilliant? At this point, I'm skipping past the story of how Dawn and Mary Anne became sisters, because we've all heard it more times than necessary. The only thing of note is this is one of the books that takes place during Logan and Mary Anne's brief estrangement. The way Dawn describes him is hilarious: ...she's the only one of us BSC members who has ever had a steady boyfriend. His name was (is - Mary Anne broke up with him but he's still alive) Logan Bruno.

"He's still alive." Though I wouldn't put it past the BSC to kidnap him, throw him in the back of the Junk Bucket, and have Charlie drive him out to the desert, where he "mysteriously disappears." You don't mess with a BSC member on Kristy's watch!

You probably want to know about the other club members. No thanks, I'll pass, Dawn. Well, the BSC made me feel totally welcome. Everyone was open and friendly, which was great, because nothing turns me off more than cliques where everyone dresses and sounds alike. Please. The BSC is definitely a clique and in some books, they're downright cult-like.

Skimming time! Let's see if we find anything interesting.

Dawn lets her blunt side show and says Kristy is bossy, instead of the "She kinda sorta has a big mouth!" thing we see other times. And she describes Kristy's family story as a fairy tale called The Saga of Kristy. She laughs at the thought of Watson the Millionaire sweeping Elizabeth off her feet because he's balding and quiet and likes gardening. I think the garden is his refuge away from Karen - notice how he's out there all the time? Or, really, avoiding Karen at all costs whenever she's at the Big House? No wonder she's always acting out.

Oh here we go - a Claudia outfit description! And it's one of the worst Claudia outfits in the whole series. For instance, she walked into school today wearing a bright yellow oversize men's jacket with rolled-up sleeves; a wide paisley tie right out of the nineteen-sixties; orange stirrup pants; ankle boots; and huge hoop earrings - and you know what? On her, it looked totally cool. Um, no it doesn't! Also a bright yellow men's jacket, orange stirrup pants and a tie makes it sound like she was cosplaying as Big Bird.

Which is appropriate since Claudia probably says the alphabet the same way Big Bird does.

youtube

No outfit descriptions from Stacey, but Dawn bastardizes New York City with some stereotypes. Apparently having a map of NYC and an alternate side parking calendar on your wall makes you a true New Yorker. And no (ew, ick!) when talking about Stacey's diabeetus either.

Mallory already got her description in the previous chapter, but Jessi's is here. Did you know she's *gasp* the BSC's only black member? Because she is. Poor junior officers, they get like no description except for their one personality trait. Jessi and even Mallory deserve better than that!

The chapter ends with the Schafer-Spiers having dinner. I don't know if I'd trust Sharon filling a water pitcher, Dawn - she might fill it with vinegar instead.

#babysitters club #bsc #snark #dawn schafer #dawn and the big sleepover #Youtube

1 note · View note

princessupgradesxo · 1 year ago

Text

Good Morning My Royal Subjects,

It has come to my attention that I am not at my best for my kingdom. So I’m on a mission to glo-up and become that girl I know I always have been. I’ve been such a Debbie downer about my weight gain and own internal perceived lack of attractiveness.

For context and a goddamn rundown - Since the pandemic, chile, my weight has been going up. So many factors like moving from my active retail job to a snack laden office with perks like being taken out for lunch (almost ALL the time), moving back at home (and actually having to eat home cooked meals - Thanks Nanny lool) but worst of all, sort of growing out of my “skinny person discipline”.

I was slim for as long as I can remember, hell I still look in the mirror and see a slim person… just a bit fluffier? I can’t explain it, all I do know is that when I was slim, I thought I looked like how I do now. Fat? My body dysmorphia was dysmorphia-ing. I was so tiny then and I didn’t even think so.

I can safely say that being slim was the worst part of my life (and you see I said about being slim for as long as I can remember…). But I got bigger and honestly, I was kind of happier than ever, I know, sounds like absolute cap. But truly I felt like that… until…

Well everything, I’m a pretty girl (pretty inna di face wtf) and I’ve never had to worry about- this smile gets me out of trouble. But I guess… ugh how pick me… I darent say this but I just don’t get any attention - and I’m talking guys and girls. I used to get the girls bending over backwards to tell me how pretty I am and the guys??? You catch my drift.

Anyways, this is just an adventure I’m taking with myself to prove to myself five things:

1) I can do anything - getting my body back to where I want it won’t be easy, but it’s sure enough better than sitting here complaining.

2) never get complacent - I guess I just never expected it to happen. But I want to be visible again, I want to be the main event, not the side kick.

3) I owe my health everything - I deserve to have a healthy strong body that looks not only great, but works amazingly!

4) I deserve to have choices - I never want to feel like I am stuck in a box. I want growth opportunities, I want to be looked at like I’m disciplined.

5) when? - if not now, I’ll keep putting it off. By March 2024, I want to be BACK.

Im doing it for the slutty outfits, the stares, the return to pretty privilege, the smiles, being thrown around, the kinder treatment, being like catnip to these dumb men, looking the way I want in clothes again!!

I’m trying to accompany this with TikTok, so whenever I am ready to be perceived, I’ll put my TikTok on here x

Best,

Princess x

27/10/23

#weight loss #level up #glow up #black girl aesthetic #black girls of tumblr #winning

0 notes

murdockdevil-goooonnne · 2 years ago

Text

if you'd like.

prompt: you can stay here if you'd like who: claudia dardashti (oc) x ma.tt mur.dock (da.rede.vil c*mic au) note: i felt like writing them after reading 'the death of dd' and couldn't get them out of my head.🤷🏽‍♀️it's 3:17am and i only checked over this once. we die and post like men, i guess? it's in matt's point of view. i just had an idea and rolled with it.

“You can stay here, if you’d like,” Claudia says in her soothing voice, her accent music to his ears as he focuses on the sound of it and it alone.

There’s silence between them as it begins to snow after she speaks, and he stands at the front of the expensive Manhattan building she calls a temporary home. He can’t see it, but the area reeks of cologne and perfume that costs more than his rent and the heels that hit the pavement before it began to snow sound more expensive than the suit he wore to special court cases.

Claudia, though she might say she fits in this world, due to how she dresses and the sophisticated air she brings into a room whenever she walks into it, Matt knows she’s more down to Earth than she’s willing to admit and on firmer ground than most of the rich people he meets in places like this.

And the fact that she’s letting him stay at her place is a relief, but at the same time, the very idea of staying in this world and possibly running into her parents or her siblings makes him uneasy.

The snow makes his radar senses absolutely useless and he could run into someone like Fisk, who has it out for Daredevil, or someone who just hates him as Matt, if he were to try and make it on his way home alone though. Which leads him to just do as he typically does and ignore the uneasy feeling and run head first into the uneasy situation just to see what would happen.

He does not answer her, just nods his head, then loops his arm in hers in order to let her guide him. Though she knows about his radar sense, and though he can maneuver his way through a building on his own, it’s always nice when Claudia is closeby and willing to be touched – considering sometimes she has an aversion to it, due to her childhood and the many tests she had to go through, due to her powers, and her father’s curiosity about those powers.

“You know, I thought you were going to leave the moment I asked you to stay,” Claudia admits to him as they walk over what appears to be a carpet. Matt can’t tell the color, but it’s thick against his shoes. “Ever since we had that talk about exes, you kept avoiding me. The fact that you wanted to walk me home made me think I was on someone’s shit list.” An awkward laugh from her, an even more awkward laugh from Matt. “But like I said, I can’t die. And if anyone tried to get into my head, I’m pretty sure they’d have the worst headache imaginable, they’d throw up for several hours, or worse — depending on the attack.”

Matt isn’t assured by her words because her steady heartbeat is a little faster than usual, and he knows she can die, it’s just a matter of figuring out how to keep her dead. And if someone really wanted to keep her out of his life, they could easily do worse things like bury her alive, or throw her into the ocean that she loves so much and just let her die over and over again. The idea hurts, because it’s a possibility. Matt shakes it though as he keeps walking, his hand gently squeezing her arm.

“I was avoiding you. I talked to Foggy though and he told me I can’t keep running away from my problems. I can’t promise you’ll be safe, and you can’t promise me you will be either, Cloud. But I want to see where this takes us. You and me..”

They reach an elevator, because there’s a small group of people nearby. They smell like fresh laundry and one person smells like they work near a bakery or in one. A child is nearby too and he can sense Cloud’s body going rigid as she likely thinks of her own child. She smiles at the child though, because the girl tells her that her outfit is pretty. And though Matt can’t see the outfit, the material is soft and has the perfect amount of stitching, and to him it feels pretty, so he’d have to agree.

When they’re in the elevator alone, he hears her press the button that signifies what he assumes is the top floor. “Top Suite, Cloud?” He teases. “High maintenance, much?”

She elbows him, then kisses him behind his ear, making his worries melt away a little but also somehow making him feel more guilty about dragging her into his mess of a life. So far she’s yet to reply to what he’s told her, so he assumes he’ll have to wait until they reach her home.

They reach her home after a little more walking. “Sorry if it smells a little…”

“...Like the ocean…mixed with cinnamon and lavender. Not a smell I thought would smell great, but it is incredibly you.” Matt admits to her, when she lets go of his arm and closes and locks the door behind them.

She takes off her coat, then takes off his; even though he didn’t need any help doing so – and likely just to be polite. Everything is spaced out, but the place isn’t incredibly minimalistic from what he can tell. Though he is unable to see it, there is character to it, just as there is personality to Claudia.

Gently, she takes his hand and guides him to a loveseat that is as soft as her clothing of choice, and he sits when she does. She then takes off her heels and finally begins to speak. “I want to make this work this, too, Matt. See where this goes. I have horrible issues with the people I care about dying or worse,as well — it’s not just you with the killer heart. I’m taking a big leap here by letting you in. But at least I’m putting in the effort.”

This is the most honest she’s been with him in some time. This is the most open she’s been with him since his accident, and the most open anyone’s been with him since he broke up with Kirsten in the worst way possible, instead of owning up to his own shit.

“I noticed. Which is why I made the effort to walk you home, even when I knew it was going to snow and knew you didn’t need anyone to walk you,” he says, hand on her knee.

She gives him a kiss on the cheek. “I can handle myself – remember that, okay?” She runs her hand up his arm. “I’ve handled my own bullshit way before I re-met you, I’ll be okay. I used to kill people, remember?” A soft hum when he believes she’s giving him a smile, and her heart is more relaxed. He’s going to say more, but then she says something that catches him off guard – or more off guard than the comment about killing, even though that hadn’t been something she had made a choice to do. “So – what do you think of my place? Too snooty for you?” she asks animatedly. He’s a little caught off guard by the change in tone but it’s fine, he'll play along. The big smirk on his face shows he will. “Will you be mad if I tell you the truth?”

“Tread wisely, Devil Man…” she expresses with a fake scolding tone, right before sitting in his lap and kissing him until he’s out of breath.

#[ drabbles: the devil's in the details ]#[ fic idea: the devil's in the details ]#noswrittenworks*#fic shit tag #[ otp: claudia x matt | edgy bitch and depressed thot 2.0 ]#[ drabbles: otp | claudia x matt ]

0 notes

finelinevogue · 3 years ago

Note

Just wanted to say 2 things:

1)Love the fic where he proposed over a cup of tea…so sweet💗

2) we all know how H has asthma sometimes so…could u write something w/the reader helping him with an attack idk or during an interview/concert/family gathering do as u pls

A nice day

XOXO

firstly, thank you so much that’s so sweet of you <33 and secondly, um yes i would love to give this a go at writing for you! hope you enjoy;

Harry couldn’t breathe.

He was in a panic, completely terrified of the uncontrollable situation. He was having an asthma attack concocted with a panic attack and it was brutal.

“Shit,” Jeff whispered as he watched Harry breathe heavily and loudly on the floor. His friend was currently on his hands and knees trying to gasp for air, whilst dressed in his notorious Fine Line outfit.

It was the big night. The one night only at The Forum for the release of his new album Fine Line, hence the costume. He had been nervous all day, with shaking hands and a tendency to forget simple things. You had been with him all day; having a slow brunch together out in the Hollywood Hills and then just chilling around for the afternoon. You didn’t want to anything to strain his voice, so talking hadn’t been an option. That left you either to sleeping and cuddling, whilst watching a movie, or sex. Now you were all for sex, but Harry complained that he liked talking to you during it and so that got shut down pretty quickly. You didn’t forget what he whispered to your ear though just before you cuddled into watching Bambi;

“Keep your moans for later, you’ll be fucking needing them for what I have planned.”

But that was over two hours ago now. Harry had been whisked away to start getting ready, what with hair and makeup first. You’d left him to it, telling him you would just lounge around and wait for him. It was when he was getting into costume had you announced you were just going to go down the street to get some coffee from Dunkin’ - seeing as there were few of them back in England, where you most commonly lived with Harry. The problem was you hadn’t come back yet, and it was an hour later.

“Harry mate, you need to calm down.” Kid Harpoon told him carefully, kneeling down next to his good friend. Nothing was working though and Harry was too breathless to ask anyone for his inhaler.

It had started by thinking about how nervous he actually was for tonight. It was such a huge show and one of a kind too. He was playing his new album and it wasn’t even 24 hours old yet. There was so much pressure weighing him down that he couldn’t breathe - he was suffocating in the anxiety of his own mind and he couldn’t escape at all. Then because he was in so much of a panic his asthma hit him and added another reason to his breathlessness. It was finally made worst when he realised you weren’t by his side to help him. You weren’t there to quickly eliminate the asthma and focus on helping him overcome the panic attack, instead he had his mates surrounding him - crowding him - and they didn’t know the first thing to do.

“Sarah, where’s Y/N?” Mitch shouted, making Harry squint the thought away. He didn’t want to think about how something back might’ve happened or might be happening to you. Where were you? Sarah’s response did no better to help him.

“I don’t know.”

“Harry bud. Talk to us.” Jeff spoke, crouched down in front of him. Harry shook his head, tears running from his eyes as he began crying. The sobs were really harsh and embarrassing. The tears were heavy and mixed with snot running from his nose to pool on the floor below him. He was not doing well at all, coughing when the asthma choked him up. He couldn’t do this. He felt like he was in a small box and it was only getting smaller. He felt as if he were going to die. Genuinely.

“Does he look like he can talk, dickward.” Adam’s voice came from the other side of Harry, messing his head up even more. There was so many voices and he couldn’t focus on just one, but he didn’t want to. He wanted yours. He needed yours. You.

Whenever this has happened before he was always luckily in the comfort of his home, or the tour bus and always with you. So this was unfamiliar and terrifying. He was beginning to think you’d left him or you’d gotten seriously hurt, but he couldn’t do anything to help. He was stuck - paralysed to this position as his lungs collapsed in on themselves and his brain sped the same speed as a train. You were his comfort person and it was only ever you that he wanted in situations like these. Just you.

“Move out of my way. Move!” Harry thought he heard you and your voice, but he hated that his mind could be playing tricks on him in desperation for what, or whom, he truly wanted.

He felt someone crash on the floor in front of him and the almighty smell of lavender and soap hit him all at once. This time, he was glad to have someone sit so close to him, because it was you.

“Harry look at me, hey, hey. You’re okay. Look at me bubs.” You spoke calmly, trying not to sound panicked yourself, even if you were heavily worried. You watched as he looked up at you, eyes ridiculously red and puffy whilst his nose was dripping like a leaking tap. You wanted to rub his tears away and dab away the snot, but your main priority was on his breathing first. “Okay good, okay.”

Your hand went into your bag and picked out his inhaler. You shook it a few times, before putting it into Harry’s mouth. “On three, one, two, three…” Harry tried is best to breathe in and you pushed down on the canister. “Good, bubs, really good. Okay again, one, two, three…” You repeated and then a third time until you could tell that the wheezing of his asthma attack had disappeared.

“T-than…” Harry tried to mumble out, but couldnt because he was still in panic and his throat was so dry.

“Sshh you’re okay.” You turned to one of the crew members and asked for them to fetch you a bottle of water. You asked people to clear out of the room and leave you with Harry for a bit, knowing he wouldn’t settle in front of all these people. You sat on the floor, crossed legged, and brought Harry to lay his head in your lap with his body trailing behind. You offered him one of your hands to squeeze if he wanted to, which he appreciated, cupping both of his around yours. Your other hand laid to stroke through his gelled hair - that would no doubt have to be redone now.

Instead of going straight into talking to him, you sang his favourite lullaby to him in aid of calming him down. It always worked, or at least helped a little. You sang quietly, noticing the beat of his heart soften with every line you sung. You were by no means a professional singer like him, but he liked the way it was so imperfect and mellow. It calmed him to hear something so simple and so you. Whilst you sang the crew never came back with your requested water and you thanked them, before you were the only ones left in the room.

After you finished singing you noticed how calm Harry was, almost still - the complete opposite to how he’d been all of 10 minutes ago. It was amazing what the power of you could do to him.

“What colour are we feeling?” You and Harry had created your own little system by which you would let each other know how you’re feeling by a colour of the rainbow. You’d designated a meaning to all of them that only you two could understand and used them on the days when you weren’t feeling great, to help understand each other’s feelings better.

“The whole bloody rainbow.” Harry mumbled out and you passed the water around so he could take a few sips, to which he thanked you graciously for.

“Oi, you can’t have that as your answer.” It was a rule that you could only use one colour to some your most intense emotion in that moment, otherwise there was kind of no point to the system.

“But it’s true. I feel grey with confusion, blue with sadness, purple with frustration, yellow with fear and even light yellow with cowardice. Yet I feel pink with happiness and light red with love.”

“What about red red?” You teased, not being able to help yourself.

“What? Lust? Always, for you that is.” You leant down to kiss his head as he cracked a joke, showing you that your Harry was still there beneath all this worry.

“Tell me what the colours represent in real life.”

“Purple because I am frustrated that I had to have a panic attack right before the biggest show of my career. Yellow because I am frightened that nobody will like the album and it will be a complete fail of a night. Grey because I can’t choose one colour and focus on it. I.. I—”

You could tell he getting himself worked up again, so cut him short. “Bubs stop, you’re okay. Listen to me.” You tucked his hair behind his ear as if to open it up for him to hear better. “Don’t ever be frustrated with yourself for something like this. You are allowed to have moments of weakness; you wouldn’t be human if you didn’t. Did this compromise your show? No. Did this show off how strong and brave you are? Yes. That’s what is important, therefore we can swap purple for dark yellow because you were brave. Which means yellow can also turn to dark yellow because you are so brave for doing something so huge and so wonderful. People already love the album H. Can’t get enough of it. Everyone will sing along to every word, I can promise you that. Or at least I will. You are amazing, so never undersell yourself. That’s important to me and for you. Bubs, you are so amazing for what you’re doing here tonight and I couldn’t be prouder of you. Yes, a panic attack isn’t nice and it isn’t convenient, but it just helps show how much you care about tonight and it going a success. That must count for something.”

He didn’t say anything for a bit and that was okay. He was most likely getting his thoughts together and mentally preparing himself for the greatest night of his life. You bent your body over so you could hug him, since his back was to your front, and just give him a squeeze to reiterate how proud you are of him.

“Y/N.” Harry spoke quietly, as your body encased his. You embraced his warmth and inhaled the beautiful scent that he was wearing. He both smelt and looked phenomenal.

“Yes bubs.”

“You know I love you right?” Of course you did, but it still made your heart flutter as crazy as the first time he said it to when he tells you now.

“I do.”

“And you know you’re it for me right?”

“Well.. I—” You didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself.

“Because you are.” Harry turned himself around, making you sit up so he could move. He was lying with his head facing upwards now, face looking less red and puffy, and staring right into the souls of your eyes. He looked magical. Beautiful. He thought the same of you. “And,” he moved his fingers to take off his S ring from Gucci, that probably cost more than your annual salary, and place it onto your ring finger of your right hand, “I give you this as a promise to share my last name with you someday.”

Seeing the initial of his last name sat on the finger opposite to the one he claimed he would one day put two more rings on, brought you to tears. “Harry…” You didn’t know what to say, you were speechless. You had never expected for him to do something as monumental as this and had never experienced it before to know how to react.

Of course you’d always dreamt of marrying him and being his for eternity, but never thought of it possibly becoming your reality. Now, Harry was completely devoting himself to you and only you and it suddenly all felt like the dream was settling in place.

“I swear to you Y/N, i’ll love you until the next lifetime and i’ll find you again. I love you so much, I can’t even tell you how much because it is so infinite. You’re so kind and patient with me and you see me for me, not for the Harry Styles, just Harry. I’ll never let a day pass without you on my mind and I think it’s because you were always meant to be mine. My heart is yours.” He smiled once he noticed you were crying, moving one of his hands up to wipe the tears away.

“How do I top that?” You whispered to him, but mostly to yourself. Both of you laughed.

“Just tell me you love me.”

“I do. I do love you Harry.” You nodded and then he sealed your confirmation with a kiss to his lips. You rested your hand upon his cheek, placing the coolness of the S ring upon his cheekbone, as he placed his hand under your chin to guide you into the kiss. He tasted divine and you smiled knowing that you got to have him like this, taste him like this, for the rest of your beating hearts’ days.

530 notes · View notes

dreamkidddream · 4 years ago

Note

I’d like to request hc’s of the Brothers and Diavolo reacting to an MC that’s so cute, she could pass off as a doll. If she stands perfectly still, she could pass off as a full sized doll until she moves again. She has adorable doe eyes, wears cute clothes (Lolita fashion or just has an anime girl style), and even makes cute desserts. If the usual MC was weak and frail to them already, Doll!MC seems so dainty, precious, and fragile; these guys would ban paper if she ever got a paper cut.

Oooooo this is really interesting! I can just imagine Doll!MC just making everyone so scared every time she moves because they could probably hurt themselves just bumping into a wall because they look so fragile lol. These were short, so hope you enjoy!

Update: here’s part 2 with the other Undateables!

The Brothers and Diavolo Reacting to Doll!MC

Lucifer

...maybe he made a mistake in picking you for the exchange program after all

You just look so delicate, and just so pure.

You have definitely made cute little snacks and brought it to him while he locked himself in the office with paperwork

He lowkey highkey likes it no matter how he brushes it off with the usual thanks. Keep doing it, MC, he really appreciates it

When you get in trouble and he gives you the usual lectures, he can’t look into your eyes for long

Geez, he already can’t stay mad at you for long but now he can just feel his resolve cracking

If you get hurt oh Diavolo prepare for helicopter parent Lucifer

As soon as you accidently cut yourself in the kitchen (it would be the tiniest cut, barely noticeable), you’re no longer allowed in the kitchen unsupervised and can’t handle anything with a sharp end (whether its a butter knife or kid proof scissors that would be safe for Luke to use unsupervised)

“Let me do it for you, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Lucifer, thank you but I’ll be okay. It’s just a frosting spatula it’s not sharp-”

Will punish his brothers 10x worse and demons 100x more if he finds out you got hurt (doesn’t matter what the injury is, could be so much as a paper cut there will be hell to pay)

Constantly checks on you when he can’t see you in person

Handles you so lightly that you barely feel his touch

Move over Belphie, you’re the baby of the house now

Mammon

Protective x100000

Is still tsudere around you, but doesn’t insult you as much

Who are you kidding as soon as he looks into your cute doe eyes, he forgets what he’s saying

Complains about having to do stuff for you but doesn’t mind at all really. He loves it because it feels like you’re depending on him, and that makes him feel worth something.

“C’mon human, let the Great Mammon carry your books! You’re gonna hurt yourself and I don’t feel like hearing Lucifer’s mouth today!”

It was just your planner and a small recipe book that Luke gave you, and it weighed less than 10 pounds but okay. You don’t complain either when you see that he genuinely wants to help and do these things

Basically your loud guard dog and secret service agent rolled into one

He’s gotten into trouble more than once for “protecting you”. A student barely bumped your shoulder and Mammon already tackled him. Lucifer was not pleased (but he secretly understood)

He can’t help it that you’re weak and surrounded by hungry demons! It’s a pain to go through this much effort to just protect you, since you look so helpless

MC he’s just worried that you easily break if a demon so much as breathes on you but he likes that he can protect you because he knows that he can keep you safe. You’re just too cute and sweet okay??

Also stand in his room after watching a horror movie to freak him out and he’ll be sounding like Mariah Carey lmao

Leviathan

RURI-CHAN IS THAT YOU??!

Is for sure having an otaku/weaboo freakout moment

You blend in with figurines so well, every time you come into his room he asks you to stand next to them so he can feel that his collection is complete

He does it sometimes when he streams so people can think he has a rare limited-edition life sized doll that they can’t get. Makes him feel superior

DRESSING YOU UP IN COSPLAY 100%

You’re like an anime character but in real life and he does not know how to handle it

Can’t stare into your eyes, it makes them too flustered because he’s used to seeing it in his otome games and not from an actual person that he likes

Who needs maid cafes when he has you? You even dress and make anime themed desserts (once he built up the courage to ask you to make it for him)

Has to calm his beating heart every time he talks to you, you’re too precious for him MC!

Your like his very own idol, minus the singing and dancing. However, if you can sing and dance....

Levi.exe has stopped working

Satan

Thought you were a real doll until you introduced yourself

He really thought that someone brought you to life Pinocchio style

You looked like a princess from the many stories that he read, and he was smitten

Treated you so graceful and elegant like until he had his rage moments, which he told you to stay far, far, far away from him until he calmed down completely

Secretly placed a hex on you to where if someone tried to attack you or touch you with harmful intentions, they would be somehow be subjected to looking at their worst fear

You were wondering why that random stranger was just staring wide at you with extensive terror, but then you saw Satan grinning, so you left it alone. You thought it was just some weird demon thing

Loved when you made him cat-themed desserts

If you wore cat ears while doing it, he will turn extremely red

If you meow for him, he won’t know how to handle himself

Asmodeus

You are just the cutest thing he has ever laid his eyes on!!

Besides from himself of course, don’t get it twisted he’s still #1

He has most definitely had more than one photoshoot done with you both. And you guys have been trending on the Devilgram a couple of times already

Really you guys trend at least twice a month, and his fans love you!

They always ask where he got the doll from but he always laughs and says that “it’s a secret”

Imagine their shock when they see you walking and talking at RAD, some are amazed and some are downright scared

Fashion shows!

He lives for dressing you up in cute clothes. Your style already suited you and he had great tastes so the new outfits he got you were just *chef’s kiss*

The cute little desserts that you made for him, he always posted it on the Devilgram before he ate it. They were just so cute MC and he couldn’t not show his fans!

Is the most careful brother when it comes to keeping you out of danger. He refused to let his body or skin damaged, and he wasn’t about to let it happen to you either! You are both way too dainty and fragile to let anything happen

Also spa days and self-care nights weekly!

You’re the perfect match made just for him MC

He finally has someone that can understand his struggle of being beautiful, bless you MC

Beelzebub

Soft boy is scared of touching you :(

He towers over you, and he’s scared to even be near you

It takes some time, but he starts to warm up to you

Is always gentle with you, no matter the scenario

Holding hands? He is hardly gripping your hand, said hand fitting loosely in his

Getting hugs? He’s meagerly holding you, not wanting to crush you

You once complained to Beel that it wasn’t fair to get half done hugs (if you were hugging, you were getting a real hug, not a scared one).

He made you swear that if he was hurting you to let him know, so now you have your very own signal to use for him just in case

He was very tempted to wrap you in bubble wrap and just carry you around like that

He LOVES your sweets, even more than Luke’s and Barbatos’

No matter the size, he loves them, mainly because you made them and it was made with love, just for him

It always makes him feel so warm inside, and he doesn’t feel his appetite gnawing at him like usual

No one is dumb enough to try anything with you both in his presence and not, unless they want to end up either a: deep into the ground or b: into his stomach

You just make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and he just loves everything about you. He just loves you

Belphegor

Hm, you look cute

For a human

Acts like he doesn’t care, but you’ve caught him blushing before (he still does it too)

Won’t outright admit that you’re charming in your own little way, but he does in his sarcastic way like usual

“MC, you’re such a half-pint. You’re like my personal sized teddy bear.”

Has cuddled with you like you were his personal teddy bear (and still does, but you don’t complain at all)

Has a secret sweet tooth and eat your desserts whenever you make it just for him (and he doesn’t even share it with Beel, that monster)

Demons just have to look Belphie in the eyes, watch him flex his claws, and they all of a sudden forget about whatever they were planning. Good

He hates that you look so fragile, but at the same time he kinda likes it

You just look so soft, and you’re just so kind

It makes him feel like he’s protecting and caring for you, and that makes him feel calm and peaceful

Please make sure that he’s okay MC, he’s scared that he’s gonna mess up again

Diavolo

The Prince of Hell is both surprised and pleased at your appearance

Do all humans look this charming or is it just you??

If someone as soft as you can survive living and going to school with demons, then this is great

Knew that you weren’t a doll, but still liked to admire you like one

Has asked more than once for pictures, you are just too enchanting!

Wants to have a portrait painted of you so he can hang it up in the castle

LOVES you baking for him! Loves when Barbatos does it too (even though it is kinda part of his job), but it feels different with you. It feels...domestic in a sense. Makes him feel like Diavolo, your friend and very interested in being your boyfriend, instead of Lord Diavolo, the prince that will be residing over Hell in the future

No one would be foolish enough to hurt you. If someone was, they wouldn’t even get the chance to lift a finger before they were directly dealing with him. Don’t take his kindness for weakness, he still is a demon after all, the future King of Hell to be exact

Was scared of touching you at first, but quickly grew out of it! He can handle his own strength, and you guys also have a signal to use just in case he does squeeze a little too tight

Will want to dress you up in royal clothes (if you were okay with it). Nothing is wrong with your current style, as a matter of fact it suits you! He basically just wants to play a fancy game of dress up/have a fashion show with royal clothing

Will take 100s of photos, no exaggeration

Asmo will be jealous, so be warned

Plus, he wants to know how his future lover/ruler would look in a crown so he can start taking measurements. You can never be too ready, right MC?

2K notes · View notes

snackhobi · 4 years ago

Text

pairing: jimin x reader / word count: 9.1k / genre: smut (NSFW, 18+)

summary: you wouldn’t mind your cute neighbour being such a shameless fuckboy if a) the walls weren’t so thin and b) he didn’t seem intent on adding you as another notch in his bedpost.

but there’s only so much you can resist park jimin, especially once he gets that peach involved.

warnings: sexually explicit content, Jimin being completely shameless/a lowkey ho, messy peach eating, mentions of masturbation, oral sex (m + f receiving), overstimulation, protected sex, multiple orgasms (f), dirty talk and some cursing, hmm I think that’s it?

a/n: I was so close to calling this ‘jimin and the f*cking peach’ as some terrible homage to ‘james and the giant peach’ 😂🤧 as always I would like to thank @hobi-gif for beta reading this, putting up with me having a meltdown at her, and encouraging me to write smut at work rather than doing my job, ty queen xoxo

It’s official. Park Jimin is the neighbour from hell.

He’d tricked you, to start with. With those cherubic features, those doe eyes, and his cute little smile? He looks like an angel. A sweet, innocent angel, one who’d knocked shyly on your door and presented you with a small selection of chocolates when he’d moved into the apartment next to yours. Your heart had gone boom boom at the sight of that cute smile, the slip of teeth, the way his lovely face had scrunched up.

Nowadays, whenever you see that face, you want to punch it.

Well. Not punch it. Maybe slap it a little. Because Park Jimin is a fiend.

Your studio apartment is cheap for many reasons. The plumbing is creaky and the heating isn’t exactly great but those are small sacrifices for such low rent—ones you’re willing to make. Creaking doesn’t bother you and throw blankets exist for a reason, right? You get a balcony and a parking spot, which is more than you can say for a lot of other places in this price range, so you’ll take the negatives for these positives.

But you’d give up all the things you love about this cheap flat for some sound proofing.

Because Park Jimin fucks.

A lot.

He’d been nothing but lovely for the first few weeks. You’d barely been aware of his existence, minus when you could hear him in the bathroom—your flats are mirrored, rooms sharing walls, so you’d been washing your face when you’d heard his shower start up and then the sound of his dulcet tones drifting through the wall. That had actually been really nice; Jimin can hit some high notes, and it had been a pleasant backdrop as you’d cleansed your face. It had been another bullet point you’d added to the list of things you thought were cute about him (along with his face, his laugh, his smile), and you’d stupidly started to develop a tiny little crush on this boy-next-door, thinking him some soft, kind thing.

But then he’d started to have people over.

You’ve lost count of how many days you’ve had to listen to the moans and gasps that echo through your walls. You can’t escape from it. As a freelance programmer, you’re pretty much always working from home, so it’s not like you can get away from the sounds of pleasure that shudder through Jimin’s flat and into your own.

It’s never consistent, either. There’s not a single hour of the day that’s off limits to Park Jimin. Morning, afternoon, night; the boy is always ready to go, apparently. And judging from the sounds through the walls? He never leaves anyone unsatisfied either.

Which, like, fine. People fuck. You get it. You’re not judging. You just wish it wasn’t so loud. You have to sleep, for God’s sake. But it’s not like you can knock on a new neighbour’s door and be like hey, I appreciate you have an incredibly active sex life, but can you keep it down, please?

So you’d bit your tongue. You’d gritted your teeth to bear it. You’d still smile at Jimin if you ever passed in the hallway, acknowledged him with a small nod, exchanged pleasantries, all the neighbourly stuff that you’d do with anyone. You’d just invested in some good earplugs and thought that was it.

And then Jimin had started doing his morning yoga routine outside.

You start each day with a cup of tea on your balcony, watering your hydrangeas and enjoying the dawn sun that lifts up over the horizon alongside your plants. It’s a small, singular moment of quiet in an otherwise dull day and you treasure that serenity.

Well. Treasured. Past tense. Because Jimin has invaded this part of your life, too.

The first time Jimin had unrolled his yoga mat on the balcony adjacent to yours, he’d been dressed in a deceptively unassuming outfit—a loose white t-shirt and leggings that hugged every inch of his calves and thighs and shapely ass, which you had pointedly Not Looked At. He’d tilted his head at you with a smug little smile flickering at the edge of his lips, and when he’d greeted you good morning, you’d responded in turn, even if you were still annoyed at how he’d interrupted your afternoon nap the day before with the sound of his headboard smacking into the wall repeatedly. You were still fairly new neighbours and you still felt like you had to be polite, even if he was starting to fray your nerves.

And then he’d started to bend.

Now, you’ll be the first to admit that you don’t know much about yoga. But you’d swear Jimin was choosing poses that did the utmost to display his flexibility, the flex of his muscles and twist of his limbs, balancing his body on his arms before easing into a pose that had him bent in two, head towards his toes—and with how he had his back to you this meant you got full glimpse of his ass, straining against his leggings, the way his loose shirt slipped up his body to reveal the lines of his stomach and chest, how his face was still twisted into that little smirk even if it was upside down.

Staring at you.

You’d promptly stopped watering your hydrangeas and walked inside your flat, shutting the sliding door behind you.

Jimin is relentless.

He’s pretty and he knows it. All that shy, new-kid-on-the-block innocence he’d had initially is completely gone, and all he does is flirt, flirt, flirt. He winks at you. Stands a little too close whenever you talk. Lets his eyes flicker down to your lips, trail over every inch of you, lashes fluttering when he catches you watching, unashamed and unabashed. He frequently just… hangs around on his balcony. Not topless, no, but he may as well be, his thotty muscle tees doing nothing to hide him from your eyes.

(The worst thing, though, is when you catch him unawares. When he’s tired and clearly not expecting you to be awake, too, his eyes sleepy and his hair ruffled; a little vulnerable, a lot softer than he usually presents himself. Curled up on the small seat on his balcony with a hot drink in his hand, phone in the other, his screen throwing blue-tinted light over the easing lines of his features.

You wish Jimin was like that all the time. But the second he sees you, his eyes flicker, and his brows lift, and his mouth curls, and once again you rue the day you had a fuckboy move in next door to you.)

It’s not that Jimin isn’t hot. It’s not that you wouldn’t fuck him, either. But you have no interest in being some sort of convenient hook-up for him, purely there by circumstance, fate, whatever you want to call it. You dread to think of him sending you haha wyd x texts whenever he feels like having sex and you just happen to be nearby. So you weather all of his obvious come-ons and swerve him something chronic, even if he seems intent on making his attraction to you obvious.

You’ve been managing it for months. But as time goes on, your patience wears thinner and thinner, an atom-thick layer of fortitude the only thing keeping you from grabbing Park Jimin and kissing him and/or killing him. It doesn’t help that you haven’t fucked for a while now, and you’re reminded of this every time you hear another pornstar moan through the wall (the people Jimin brings home seem to like hamming it up for effect), every time you see another mosaic of hickeys laid across the column of Jimin’s gorgeous throat, every time you see the way his yoga outfits do nothing to protect the delicious shape of his body from your eyes.

You dig your fingers into your palms. It’s fine. It’s okay. You can handle Park Jimin and his overt sexual energy, oozing out of him almost every second of every day.

It’s a little harder to handle how he still seems sweet despite his fuckboy nature. How he picks your parcels up for you. How he lets you use his laundry detergent when you run out. How he lets you keep food in his fridge when yours breaks down and you have to wait for a replacement. How he sheds that fuckboy facade whenever it seems like you genuinely need help, how you’ve heard his soft phone calls through the wall, to his friends, his family, sweet and kind and supportive.

Park Jimin is a multi-dimensional being, for sure, and maybe you sometimes wish he was actually genuinely interested in you as a person and not as a lay, so you could peel back those layers to the lovely core at the centre of his being.

But it’s fine. You can handle this stupid yearning and pining. You can handle the knowledge that Park Jimin is a genuine gentleman who just happens to like fucking, is open in his desire for it, and is apparently Very Good at it. It’s difficult, but you can do it.

You can do it.

The date you set up with someone from Tinder ends up being disappointing and lacklustre. You’d escaped before dessert, unable to put up with one more second of this asshole going on and on about stocks, and investments, and trading, or whatever, cursing the day you’d decided to swipe on him. You’re so sick of your luck (or lack thereof) with guys. (At least the food had been nice.)

Of course Jimin sees you schlepping your way back into your apartment, disappointment obvious in the line of your shoulders and lips; it doesn’t take a genius to clock your date outfit, cute as it is, makeup and hair soft. But the night has barely begun and here you are, stepping back into your flat. Alone.

“Bad date?” Jimin asks, voice gentle, and you just snort.

“Just like the rest of them,” you reply with a small sigh, before shutting your door quietly behind you, missing the look on your neighbour’s face.

Jimin, to his credit, eases off after this. You’re not sure if it’s due to a misplaced sense of pity or something, but even if he still smiles and flirts lightly with you, it’s less… salacious. Still there, still obvious, just a little softer. You hate how this has you feeling grateful towards him, because he’s still got so many fuckboy tendencies that it should outweigh this gentler side of his flirtation, but your traitorous heart still goes gooey every time Jimin smiles at you.

But then.

There’s that fucking peach.

You’re just chilling on your balcony, sipping at a glass of lemonade in the warmth of the afternoon when you hear Jimin’s door sliding open. You flick your eyes over at the sound, watching the way Jimin slips out onto his own balcony, how he throws something up in the air and catches it with ease, a flick of the wrist, a curl of the fingers each time he catches it again.

He hasn’t had any fuckbuddies over for a while. A few weeks, almost a month. It’s the longest Jimin’s gone without having sex for as long as he’s started having people over and you’d been sort of concerned. Which, yeah, you know it sounds super weird when you think about it, especially considering how much you complain about Jimin to your friends—help, my fuckboy neighbour hasn’t fucked anyone in nearly a month so I’m worried if his dick has fallen off or something.

(Well, actually, you know his dick is still attached, based off the little gasps and moans he lets out whenever he pleasures himself in lieu of fucking someone else. You’ll take this secret to the grave but those noises that Jimin lets out have been the melody you use to reach your own peaks, although you’re a lot quieter than he is whenever you touch yourself, biting your lip and muffling the wet sounds of your fingers thrusting into your cunt under layers of blankets. You’d never give Jimin the satisfaction of knowing that the mental image of him fucking into his fist and cumming over his stomach and chest is what throws you over your own edge, toe-curling orgasms that shake through your body in time with Jimin’s own.)

Anyway. He looks loose limbed and relaxed when he saunters into view, utterly unsurprised by your presence behind your window box of hydrangeas, giving you his usual, sultry smile.

He’s started to ramp up his flirtations again. This smirk is one which you’ve learned not to respond to. You just stare levelly back at him, unimpressed as you start to water your flowers, which does nothing to dissuade him. It never does. He clearly revels in the challenge.

Jimin keeps his eyes locked with yours as he lifts his hand to his lips. You catch a glimpse of what he was throwing and catching—a ripe, flush peach, tiny droplets of water shimmering on its fuzz, freshly washed.

And then he starts to eat it.

The peach yields immediately to the press of his teeth. Juice bursts out of its softness, running down his lips, his chin; he makes no moves to wipe it away, the lewd sound of his slurps as he curls his tongue into the fruit, messy and sweet.

It’s shameless. He’s shameless. His gaze is unwavering as he stares at you, his mouth glistening with the peach’s juices, the only sound the wet smack of his lips and tongue as he licks up the honeyed liquid that drips from his skin, curving around the fruit as he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing.

Water’s been trickling from your small can onto the hydrangeas, cascading over the plants; the soil is waterlogged now, but you haven’t noticed, fixated on the way Jimin is looking at you as he wantonly eats out this peach.

Drip drip, goes the watering can.

Drip drip, goes the peach.

By the time there’s nothing more than the pit in his hand, Jimin is a mess. His fingers and mouth and chin shine with peach juice, eyes dark and heavy as he watches the way you drink the sight of him in, the way his tongue slowly drags over his full lips, catching the sweetness that lingers.

The second he puts his tongue to his fingers to get the stickiness on them, that’s it. You watch the way he sucks his fingers into his mouth and promptly put the watering can down and turn on your heel to walk inside, slamming the balcony door shut behind you.

You’re done. You’re only human. You’ve spent months with Jimin parading himself in front of you, seen the way he contorts his body every morning in an unnecessarily complex sun salutation, listened to the way his voice rises when he cums; the peach is the metaphorical cherry on top, and you’re just. Over. It.

You hammer your palms against your neighbour's door, rap-rap-rapping on the wood, your blood rising and your heart thudding in your chest, every part of you tense, wound up, pent up. The door swings open to reveal Jimin, his chin still slick with sweet peach, lips curling up in a self-satisfied smile when he sees you.

“Park Jimin.” Your voice shakes and you hate yourself for it, hate the way Jimin’s eyes glitter at the sound, the little hitch in your breath. “You are a fucking menace, you know that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says. He leans against the doorframe, effortlessly gorgeous, hip cocked, head tilted. He lifts his hand, and there’s a heavy moment of tension as you watch him slowly swipe a thumb over the last remnant of juice on his chin, before his tongue lolls out of his mouth and he licks the final taste of peach from his fingers.

When you grab hold of his collar his expression shifts from something coy into something far more self satisfied, months of his brazen come-ons finally culminating in this—you, shoving him backwards into his apartment, kicking the door shut behind you.

“I swear,” you say. “I swear to God—”

“You swear? I can think of better things you could be doing with your mouth,” Jimin says, and then laughs when you scowl at him. “Damn, you’re so hot when you’re mad.”

“You are infuriating,” you bite out, and Jimin just laughs again, his whole body shaking, every part of him still loose and relaxed even as you continue to tighten your grip on his clothing, feeling every motion of his body under your hands. You hate how pretty he is, even now, utterly unafraid of your frustration—the brightness of his eyes and his smile, that undercurrent to it all, the way his hands slide so smoothly around your waist, your hips, sliding down to grope at your ass.

“I know,” he agrees, still giggling, and then he kisses you.

Jimin dives straight in, no holds barred, and you immediately melt into putty under his touch. He lets out a hum of satisfaction into your mouth as your hands go lax and slide down his chest. You can still taste the peach on his lips, his tongue, licking into his mouth.

You’ve thought about this mouth more times than you’d like to admit: the full swell of his lips, the little curve of his cupid’s bow, how it’d feel pressed against your own, and honestly? It’s so much better than you’d let yourself imagine it to be.

He nips at your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue, and you bite off a gasp when he pulls you forward, grinding against you. You shudder. Jimin’s mouth is a pleased curve against your own before he pulls away, murmuring in your ear in a voice that’s equal parts sultry and sweet.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, kissing the sensitive skin of your jaw just under your earlobe, making you shiver. “Just relax. You’re always so tense.”

“Maybe that’s because my neighbour keeps me up all night,” you say, but your voice is weak, no strength behind your words, breath stolen out of you at the way Jimin starts to trail his lips down your neck, across your throat. “I find that constantly getting my sleep interrupted—oh, oh—”

Jimin sucks at the hollow of your neck, the delicate skin there so sensitive to his touch, the warmth of his lips magnified, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. Your hands have slid into his hair and you unintentionally tighten your grasp, fingers tugging at his dark locks, and Jimin bares his teeth against your skin.

It’s maybe a little embarrassing how wet you are just from a little making out. But after months of Jimin teasing you and putting you on edge, coupled with how long it’s been since you've had sex? You’re allowed to be a little desperate. All the small frustrations you were about to voice die on your tongue, slipping away from you as Jimin starts to walk you backwards with a confidence that shows just how often he’s done this—leading people to his bed, never taking his hands off you.

By the time Jimin eases you to lie down, you feel breathless. He hovers above you with that satisfied smile flickering at the edge of his lips, taking in the sight of you, finally underneath him—lips kiss swollen, exquisite, all the sharp words on your tongue softened and gone, goosebumps trailing down your skin. You tug at his collar, which catches him off guard; he sways forward and almost hits his face against yours, but before he can spend too long looking smug at your desperation you capture his lips again. You melt into the mattress, hooking a foot over his calf and revelling in the weight of him between your legs, your hips flush, and how hard he’s getting through those stupidly tight leggings of his.

When he grinds against you, the outline of his cock pressed up against your cunt, an embarrassing whine leaves your lips and trembles against Jimin’s own. Jimin goes still before pulling away from the open-mouthed kiss and when you see the expression on his face you slap a hand over your mouth, burning with shame.

“Oh.” He sounds delighted. “You’re noisy, huh?”

“Shut up,” you say, though your words are muffled against your palm. He grinds down again, a slow and deep roll of his hips that lets you feel how hard he is, and a noise shudders out the back of your throat, audible around your hand.

“It’s hot.” There’s that little smirk on Jimin’s lovely lips, every inch of him dripping self confidence. He knows how you’re entirely at his mercy, in spite of your words; your voice is weak. “You’re normally so quiet.”

“Some of us try to be considerate and think about our neighbours.”

Jimin just smiles, pulling your hand away from your mouth before gently kissing your palm, a motion that’s surprisingly tender and makes you pause.

“Trust me.” His voice is low. “I do think about my neighbour.”

Your breath hitches when he slides his free hand under your shirt, trailing his fingers over the softness of your stomach. He pulls the fabric up, letting his gaze rove over the bared skin. The way Jimin looks at you makes you feel like you’re the only woman in the world, like he’s never seen anyone prettier.

You wonder if he looks at his other fuckbuddies like this.

The thought slides away from you as Jimin dips his head and starts to kiss your throat again. You tilt your head back as his lips trail across the soft skin, his hands coming to rest under your breasts, contained as they are by your bra; once he coaxes you to sit up, it only takes him a few moments to strip your upper body, kneeling between your spread legs as he starts to trail his hands over the parts of you that are now bared to him.

“Pretty,” he says. You’d roll your eyes if he didn’t sound so reverent, and also if you weren’t distracted by the way he flicks his thumbs over your hardening nipples, your core clenching as he does, biting your lip to stop yourself from making a sound. A frown flits across Jimin’s face and he lifts one of those thumbs away from your breast, dragging your lip away from your teeth, letting his grasp linger so your lips are parted. “Don’t do that. I've been waiting for months to hear you properly.”

Before you can reply, he kisses you again, licking into your mouth and swallowing down the noise you make when he drags his hand between the valley of your breasts, down your stomach and settling between your legs, running his fingers over your cunt, the feeling dulled by layers of fabric even though he presses with intent. Your hips jolt at the sensation, and Jimin repeats the motion, dragging the fabric across your flushed lips.

“Jimin.” Your voice is a gasp against his mouth, and you can’t keep the pleading out of your tone, desperation bleeding into every letter of your words. “Please.”

He just hums, sounding pleased, and a breath of surprise escapes you as he pushes you back against the pillows. He wastes no time in getting to his prize, drawing a scattered constellation of kisses that trail across your chest, your nipples, your stomach, the line of your hip bones as you lift up so he can pull your shorts and underwear off. You’re entirely naked underneath him, bare and wet, cunt flushed and shining, and Jimin groans at the sight.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, fingers digging into your thighs as he pulls your legs wider. Your cheeks burn as Jimin stares at your pussy, but you can’t help but feel a pulse of self-satisfaction at the visible twitch of his cock in his stupid yoga leggings. “You’re so wet.”

You should probably feel embarrassed, but by now you’ve thrown all your previous inhibition to the winds. You’ve ended up somewhere you’d privately sworn you were never going to—in Park Jimin’s bed, leaned up against his pillows, laid out for him to touch and take and have, every inch of you desperate for it. There’s nothing in your brain or body but arousal and need. So instead of letting out a snip of a remark you just cant your hips towards him, another pleading sound slipping from your lips.

He gives you what you want. He dips his head and trails his lips and tongue down, down, down, wet and hot, until they press against your cunt. He looks at you with the same hooded eyes as earlier, motions of his mouth an echo of his peach eating, sloppy and messy; he’s unabashed in the way he slides his mouth over you, lips slick and tongue hot, sliding over every sensitive inch—sucking your clit, licking your folds, burying his face between your legs and drinking up every sweet drip of your juices.

You can’t help but make noise. Small gasps that slide into moans of pleasure, hitches in your breath that make your chest jump and your breasts shake; Jimin lets out noises too, muffled against your cunt, sounds that let you know he’s enjoying himself almost as much as you. It’s honestly pretty fucking hot, the way your own pleasure seems to turn him on, how he chases that feeling, eyes blown as he takes in every one of your reactions, repeating the motions that are affecting you the most.

The sight of him between your legs has you tensing. He continues to stare up at you, the curve of your stomach when you bow towards him, the fall of your breasts, which he slides his hands over, cupping them in his palms, pinching your hardened buds, layering sensation on sensation, never taking his mouth off you.

When he presses one finger inside, and then another, both thrusting firm and deep as he mouths at your clit, you tangle a hand into his hair. He watches the way your hips jump from the sensation of his tongue directly on your clit, and does it again, and again, your voice crescendoing from the explosion of sensation, how it’s too much, before he circles his lips around it and sucks messily. Your brain registering nothing but his lips and tongue against you, the hands that are trailing up and down your sides and still skimming across your breasts.

You’re not even aware of the words that are falling from your lips, oh fuck, yes, Jimin, there, oh, the way your grasp tightens in his dark hair, your hips bucking against his mouth as you can feel your orgasm approaching. The pleasure keeps building, flames fanning brighter and brighter as Jimin buries his mouth even further in between your legs, fingers speeding up as you gasp.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you chant, voice getting higher. “I’m gonna cum, I’m cumming, oh—”

Your words slide into a moan as your back arches and your thighs tighten around Jimin’s head and you cum. Jimin continues to finger fuck you through it, your cunt pulsating around him as he keeps licking and sucking at your clit, his gaze fixed on your face as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth falls open and every line of your body sings of the pleasure that Jimin has given to you. Even when your legs and hips start to jolt from oversensitivity and you cry out at each ripple of his tongue against you, he’s relentless, almost cruel in how he watches you writhe from a mixture of pain and overextended pleasure.

You're sobbing by the time Jimin pulls his mouth away from your cunt, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes, body shaking as you try to suck in air. He thrusts his fingers into you one more time, slow and deep, watching the way you turn your head into the pillow and muffle a gasp against it.

“I knew you'd look and sound gorgeous when you cum,” he says, and though you feel boneless from your post-orgasm high, you can’t help a little huff escaping your lips. Jimin clearly catches the sound, quiet as it is against the linen of his pillowcase, and takes your chin in his hand to turn his face towards you. His fingers are slick with your arousal, wet against your skin.

“You sound like you’re reading off the script to a porno,” you murmur.

One of his eyebrows arches. “Oh? You don’t think I’m just speaking my mind?” Those fingers move away from your chin and trace over the swell of your bottom lip; you let your mouth fall open and swallow them down, licking the taste of yourself off Jimin’s skin. “You don’t think that I’ve been thinking about how pretty you’d look as I fucked into you, begging for me to let you cum again and again?”

Your tongue stutters against his fingers and your core clenches at his words, the dark undercurrent underneath them, and Jimin’s expression shifts as he notices.

“You really have no idea, do you?” He runs his fingertips over your tastebuds, saliva starting to pool in your mouth, the slide so wet and messy. “Who do you think I picture whenever I touch myself? Who do you think I was wishing was in my bed every time I took someone else home?”

You nip at his fingers, running the edge of your teeth along his knuckles from equal parts surprise and disbelief at his words. You find it impossible to believe that he really means that, but then you realise—recently, on the few occasions you’d bumped into Jimin in the hall when he’d had one of his lays trailing behind him, for as different and unique each of them was, each one of them had shared some sort of trait with you. Hair colour, eyes, the set of their lips, the shape of their face; once, you’d heard a girl giggling through the wall before it had trailed off into a moan, and you’d done a literal double take at how much she’d sounded like you. Similar, but not exactly the same, a slightly off-tone echo of the sound that spills from your own lips whenever you laugh.

And the emptiness in his bed had only started after the night that he’d seen the way you’d trailed into your apartment with discontent heavy around your shoulders, disappointed at that awful Tinder date.

Oh, fuck.

“You’re shameless,” you say, words a little garbled around Jimin’s fingers, but you know he understands.

“No, I’m not,” he replies, a small smirk curling up the corner of his lips. It should be illegal: the way he has such soft features that can turn so quickly into something sharper and entirely sensual, eyes hooded, lips flushed, the column of his throat so lovely and graceful as he tilts his head to one side. “I just know what I want and don’t try to hide it. What’s shameless about that? I know you want me too, but you always deny yourself the things you want. Don’t you?”

You hate that you’ve been so transparent in your attraction to him. Because the truth of the matter is that for as much as Jimin frustrates you with his entire existence, you do want him. After all—you wouldn’t be naked underneath him, still trembling from the aftershocks of a deep orgasm, if you didn’t.

“You’re not always as quiet as you think, you know,” he adds, pulling his fingers out of your mouth and enjoying the way your eyes widen at his words. You thought he couldn’t hear you through the wall, but it seems like you were wrong.

Before you can say anything in reply, though, he grinds down. Without your clothes in the way you can feel the drag of his yoga pants against your cunt, how the wetness of your cum and Jimin’s spit soaks into the fabric, his hard cock hot, and you let out a whine. He still has yet to remove any of his clothes and you want to see them off so he’s finally naked. You’ve seen enough of his bare skin over the months to have a pretty good idea of what that looks like, but you want to see the real thing.

Jimin seems just as eager to shed his clothes, yielding to your grasping hands and carelessly throwing his top aside; you end up straddling his waist and kissing down his chest in an imitation of his motions earlier, letting your fingers trail over the lean muscle from his yoga and dance. When you tongue at one of his nipples and he gasps, you feel euphoric. He’s unfairly beautiful, from the lovely collarbones to the flex of his shoulders and arms and the line of his chest and stomach, delicate and somehow entirely masculine. You still sort of want to slap him, but settle with kissing the hollow of his neck instead, digging your fingers into his ribs as you roll your hips down against him.

His own hips buck up. You can tell that he’s desperate to be inside you, but you want to taste him first.

When you slide down his body and settle between his legs, you hook your fingers into the tight waistband of those stupid leggings and tug them down. Jimin hisses through his teeth as you let the material settle just under his hips, baring the top of his briefs to you, how his cock strains against them, the patch of wetness at the head, darkening the fabric.

You don’t strip him. Not completely. You just hook your fingers into those dark blue briefs and pull them down just enough to reveal the flushed head of his cock, wet with precum. You let your tongue flick out to catch that salty bitterness, and Jimin bites off a curse at the almost shy licks you start to lave across his slit, circling around the weeping head.

Hearing Jimin’s gasps without the wall in the way is honestly an experience. Before, whenever he had people over, they usually drowned him out, theatrical wails and groans overpowering his far more natural noises, but now there’s nothing to prevent you from hearing the way his breath hitches in his throat or the way he moans. Even the smallest things have him letting slip sounds, a noise escaping him as you coax him to lift his hips so you can finally, finally peel those leggings and briefs off, dragging over the hardness of his cock as you do. You want to take in the sight of him fully naked, give it the proper attention it deserves, but then you feel his cock throb in your hand and you can’t stop yourself from immediately lowering your mouth to it again.

His whole body shudders. You let your jaw fall open as you take him in, tongue curling around him, hands touching every part of him that isn’t in your mouth, making sure there’s no part of him that isn’t receiving attention. His eyes are wide under the mess of his fringe, hair falling over his forehead as he watches the way you run your lips down the side of his cock before sucking one of his balls into your mouth, circling his length with your hands, a twisting rise and fall in the motion as you drink down the noise of surprised pleasure that drops from his lips.

Jimin’s fingers have been tangled in your hair but he lets you control the flow. The sounds of you swallowing him down into your mouth as you bob your head are obscene, wet and messy, but you can still hear how his voice starts to rise, how his fingers tighten against your scalp, and you know he’s close when he tugs you upwards and drags your lips away from his cock.

Jimin pulls you towards him and you settle against his chest as you start to kiss again, shivering at the way he rolls his tongue in your mouth. This time when Jimin rolls his hips, there’s nothing between your skin and his, dragging the underside of his cock across your flushed lower lips, the slide between your folds and against your clit making you shiver.

“Condoms?”

You’re breathless, and Jimin quirks a smile at you.

“Top drawer,” he answers. Of course they would be, in easy reach whenever he needs them.

You lean forwards to reach for the bedside table and Jimin takes the opportunity to circle a hand around your breast and capture a nipple in his mouth, ignoring the way you bite back a surprised noise, staring up at you with almost innocent eyes as he sucks at your skin in the way he’s worked out that you like best. Your hands are a fumble as you pull a condom out of the pack, ripping the sachet away from the others, a bottle of lube rolling into your grasp. You try to focus on your task and not the sensation of Jimin switching attention to your other breast, cupping the swell of flesh in his hand and drawing his teeth gently across your skin.

“You’re insatiable,” you mutter, and Jimin laughs before he kisses between your breasts.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you since we first met,” he says, utterly unrepentant. “I don't want to take my mouth off you.”

“Insatiable,” you repeat, but you’re flustered. Even if you know he’s not lying, and you’re naked and straddling his hips, the taste of his lips and cock now familiar on your tongue, it’s… kind of incredible to think that the gorgeous Park Jimin has been lusting after you for that long.

Or lusting after you at all, really.

But as you tear the foil of the condom, the look he levels at you is burning with desire, roaming over you, every inch of your nakedness, every movement of your body. His hands rest at your waist, thumbs rubbing over your skin as you hold his cock in one hand and roll the condom down with the other, letting your fingers circle his length, dragging your touch over the heat of him and revelling in the way he twitches. As much as you’ve thought of Jimin as a fuckboy, you know that he wouldn’t lie just to get someone in his bed, so as unbelievable as his words are, every single one of his actions backs up what he’s said: he wants you.

You don't notice how soft his gaze is as you take time to warm the lube in your hands, even though you’re desperate to feel him finally slide home. You've always been so considerate, even when he knows you've been frustrated at him, and that's evident now, in this small thing.

You spread the warmed lube over his covered cock, pumping it in your hand to get him slick and ready, loving the way he hisses though his teeth. He has to stop his hips from bucking up as you line his cockhead up with your entrance, his fingers digging into your sides as you hover in place.

“Come on,” Jimin urges. “Give it to me.”

“Insatiable,” you repeat, one last time, then you bend your knees.

You finally ease yourself down and onto his cock. You both let out moans; Jimin, finally feeling the wet heat of you around him, and you, falling into the sensation of him stretching you open, snug inside you, slowly splitting you open as you take him in, inch by inch, until you’re sitting on his hips and he’s fully buried in your cunt.

It’s been a while since you’ve had someone inside you. You grind downwards, rolling your hips, biting your lip at the sensation. Jimin’s chest expands as he sucks in a sharp breath, and you roll your hips again, a hand bracing on one of his lovely, thick thighs, the other resting just under his stomach as you lean back and arch your spine. You lift your hips, easy and slow, and then fall, Jimin’s cock dragging and pressing against your inner walls, a gasp shuddering out of your lips at the electric feeling.

Again and again, noises of pleasure drip from your mouth as you ride him, head tilting back at the sensations rippling through your body and across your skin, the apartment full of the sounds of your sex—the moans, the wet thrust of Jimin’s cock into your cunt, the praise that falls from his lips, months of feeling pouring from his lips. How pretty you are, how gorgeous, how well you’re taking his cock, how wet and tight you are around him; all the things he’s been thinking about, come to life, his hips snapping into yours as a sharp cry cuts through your lips at the sudden change of pace.

The pleasure’s been steadily building between your legs again, warm and unrushed, but then Jimin flips you without warning, fluid and graceful. Your eyes are wide as you end up on your back, Jimin’s hands braced either side of your head as he looks down at you with those dark, dark eyes of his. He thrusts forwards and your hands fly up to grab at him, your entire body shifting up the mattress at the force of his movements. His eyebrows are drawn together as he starts to drive himself into you, unapologetic in how aggressive he’s being, each thrust pushing the air out of your lungs in harried little gasps that shake the air between you.

The sound of his headboard slamming into the wall, a noise that’s been haunting you each time you’ve been trying to sleep or relax, is one you don’t even register. All you can think about is Jimin, Jimin, Jimin, caught up in the way there’s sweat beading across his forehead, strands of his dark hair sticking to it, the intense look in his eyes, the way his full lips are parted, small ah-ah-ahs falling from his lips in time with his thrusts, your body tightening around him each time he slides home.

You can’t remember the last time you were fucked this good. Jimin reads the language of your body with ease, knowing exactly when to lean back and trail a hand over your hips, circling his thumb over your swollen clit, the slide over that bundle of nerves messy from the mix of cum and lube and spit that’s laid slick across you. Each fluid roll of his hips is perfectly timed with the press of his thumb, your thighs going tense and your pussy clenching around Jimin’s hot cock as you start to reach another peak of pleasure.

“Cum for me, baby.” Jimin sounds breathless. “Let me see how pretty you are when you cum around my cock.”

Normally dirty talk seems so ham-handed and stuttering, but the words fall out of Jimin’s lips as natural as breathing, thoughtless. Stirring your arousal even further. He’s gripping your hips, pulling you down each time he presses up, and you circle your fingers around his wrist as his other hand is occupied with rubbing at your most sensitive part, tightening your hold as you feel another orgasm approaching.

“Jimin.” Your voice is a keen. “I'm so close, please, there, right there, theretherethere—”

You can't blame Jimin's other partners for being so noisy. The sound you let out is just as loud, maybe even louder, Jimin continuing to snap his hip forwards as you cum hard, a drawn out moan that crescendos as you pulsate around Jimin's cock, still hard inside you. He watches the way you writhe beneath him, tangling his fingers with yours when you reach for him and swallowing the end of your moan in a surprisingly sweet kiss, his lips gentle against yours as he slows to a stop before you become too sensitive.

Your voice is a quiet murmur against his lips. “How have you not cum yet?”

His eyes squeeze into a smile as he laughs, light and bright, the sound so sweet. “I've got stamina for days, darling,” he says, oozing that trademark arrogance you’ve gotten used to.

You clench as hard as you can around him and feel smug when he bites off a shocked curse, his smug facade broken. You can’t help but laugh at his expression, scandalised at it is, though your giggle cuts into a gasp when he pinches one of your nipples and then soothes it with his thumb. He seems amused by the look on your face and then laughs in turn, the two of you dissolving into laughter that’s edged with pleasure, your motions shifting his length inside you.

When the laughter trails off, Jimin stays smiling down at you. You draw your hands over his body, tracing all that smooth skin, and he touches the back of your hands with gentle fingers. There's a beat of silence but it's not an uncomfortable one, the air light after your shared giggles. It's… really nice. It's nice and soft and sweet, just like the expression on Jimin's face, tender, even if he's still buried inside you.

You feel so empty when he slips out, already missing the thickness of his cock when it seems as though he’s about to coax you to roll onto your front. Your hands are still linked with his and you tighten your fingers, making him pause.

“I want to see your face,” you confess quietly. It’s probably too much to ask of him but you feel like if you’re turned away from each other then you’ll feel like nothing more than a fucktoy. Just another warm body in Jimin’s bed. You don’t want that.

Jimin stares at you, surprise written across his features before his expression softens.

"Okay, baby," he murmurs indulgently. The small pet name sounds so sweet in his mouth. "We can stay like this."

He lets your hands go so that he can reach for a pillow that ends settled under your ass, tilting your hips up towards him. You’re not as flexible as he is—maybe you should start doing yoga too—but Jimin doesn’t push you far, hitching your legs up and draping your calves over his shoulders, leaning towards you so that the back of your thighs are warm against his chest. He's bent forward, face hovering above yours, so much skin-on-skin contact that your entire body feels warmed by him.

When he slides back in, you can feel the change in angle immediately. The head of his cock brushes over your g-spot and you suck in a sharp breath; Jimin notices, of course, aiming to hit it again, and again.

It feels good, of course. Amazing. But as much as you’d be happy for Jimin to make you cum again, you’d rather see him fall apart.

You dig your nails into his shoulder blades, turning your head so you can press kisses along the line of his jaw, murmuring into his ear.

“Are you going to let me see you cum?”

Jimin’s hips stutter as your words curl out of your mouth, warm against his skin. You’ve been picturing Park Jimin’s o-face for an endless amount of weeks and you’re ready to finally see the real thing.

“Cum on me,” you say, and then choke in a sob of air as Jimin responds with a sharp snap of his hips. “I want you to cum on me, Jimin, please.”

Your begging is shameless and you know it. Jimin’s face is so close to yours in this position and you can see how blown his pupils are, how his mouth is flushed from your kisses and how he’s been biting at them, his teeth digging into his lip as he starts to get faster, sloppier in his thrusts. It feels so good to know that you’re making him feel like this, that he’s reaching the peak of his pleasure with his body against yours, inside you, above you; he might have had other people in this position in the past, but right now it’s you who’s making Park Jimin come apart.

You urge him onwards with large, pleading eyes, rocking down on his cock each time he thrusts forward, begging the whole time. Pleading for him to cum, to give it to you, to cover you. Jimin obviously likes you loud and desperate, and you're more than willing to give him what he wants.

He slips out of you, fumbling with the condom and carelessly tossing it aside before he starts to pump his cock, hungry to reach his peak as he fucks into his fist. You let your legs fall open as you watch the way his body tenses, his brows drawn together and little breaths falling out of his mouth, barely audible over the wet slide of his cock in his hand. You run your hands over your body, across the swell of your breasts, down your stomach, dipping between your legs, trying to look as arousing as possible, anything to throw Jimin over the edge.

"I've imagined you cumming for months," you confess, words thoughtlessly falling from your lips. "On me, inside me, in my mouth—"

Park Jimin’s o-face is just as gorgeous as the rest of him.

You love how noisy he is. He paints your stomach with his cum, ropes of white spattering across the soft skin of your stomach and hips as he rides out his orgasm, moaning as he continues to milk his twitching cock. It’s so fucking hot, honestly, as is the expression on his face when you swipe your fingers through his cum and lift it to your lips, mouth filled with salt and warm.

“Fuck.” He’s breathless, panting. “You’re unbelievable.”

You let out a small scoff, but it’s edged with affection. “Says the man who was ready to fuck me six ways to Sunday,” you say. “If anyone’s the unbelievable one here, it’s you.”

“I can last longer, but you’re just so hot,” Jimin says. You respond by curling your fingers at him, beckoning him towards you, and you end up sharing a series of messy kisses.

You were, honestly, genuinely angry when you'd stepped into his apartment earlier, even if that irritation had been rounded out with arousal and desire. Now, though, you feel thoroughly boneless and content, loose limbed on Jimin's mattress, his lips and tongue moving against your own.

He leans too far forwards and smears his own cooling cum against his stomach. He doesn’t seem bothered, though. You’re the one who has to coax him to clean up, though with the way he looks at your still naked body, you know he would happily launch straight into a second round of fucking so he can add more cum to the canvas of your skin.

He really is insatiable, apparently, when it comes to you.

Even so, you wonder if Jimin’s going to kick you out now that he’s finally had a taste of you. He doesn't. He keeps you close, your body pressed against his side in a way that feels far more intimate than you would have expected.

“Are you hungry?” Jimin breaks the soft silence.

You’ve been trailing nonsensical patterns over his chest but pause when he says this. “Hm?”

“Are you hungry?” Jimin repeats, and there’s a cheeky smile flickering at the edge of his lips. “I have some more peaches in the fridge, if you’d like one.”

“That peach.” Your voice is an embarrassed hiss and your cheeks burn, but Jimin just laughs, boyish and bright as you slap halfheartedly at him. “That was just unfair. Who eats fruit like that?”

“Someone who’s trying to make it obvious that he’s imagining the peach is his neighbour’s pussy instead.” He’s so brazen. “And it clearly worked, didn’t it?”

It had worked. It's annoyingly effective, actually; thinking about the way Jimin had been staring at you as he tongue fucked that peach has arousal shooting through you, even after being so thoroughly fucked by him.

“Yeah, now you’ve had me,” you say. “What do you plan to do next?”

Jimin goes quiet. You wonder if you’ve misstepped, but then he sweeps his hand down the curve of your spine, goosebumps appearing in the wake of his touch.

“I was planning on asking if you wanted to go out for lunch,” he says, his voice so sweet, miles away from the fuckboy persona he usually puts on. This is the softer Park Jimin that you’ve caught glimpses of when he’s unaware, the side of him you wished he’d show more often—revealed to you, now. “Then, if you said yes, I was going to take you out on a date. If that date went well, then I was going to ask if you’d like to go on another one with me. And then another.”

One thing you know about Park Jimin is this: he doesn’t do dates. Each of his lays are one time affairs, no attachments made, no real connection beyond the physical act of sex. Your heart rate picks up.

“Obviously we’d fuck between dates,” he adds, raising his eyebrows at you in a way that’s so exaggerated that it makes you laugh. Of course. Jimin likes to fuck. “Unless you didn’t want to, but there are only so many peaches I can eat, you know?”

“So if I said I didn't want to fuck, and you ran out of peaches, what would you do?”

Your question seems casual and light but Jimin isn't stupid. He knows what you're really asking. Is he genuinely interested in something more exclusive, or would you just become another notch in his bedpost if he grew tired of waiting for you to spread your legs again?

"I can always buy more peaches."

You stare at him. He's looking at you levelly, a small smile on his face that's a little cocky but mostly warm. And, well, you know he's already gone without other partners for you, even before he'd gotten you in his bed. Park Jimin is serious about you, it seems. He'll wait.

You mouth at his collarbones, tasting the salt of sweat as you kiss and lick at his skin.

"After lunch, we can go back to my apartment, if you want," you whisper against his throat.

Just because Jimin's willing to wait doesn't mean you're going to force him to, especially as you're still as hungry for him as he is for you.

His hands squeeze your sides as you end up kissing again. You feel soft and ripe and sweet, easing under the touch of Jimin's hands and mouth.

"I still think you're a fucking menace, though," you add, and Jimin laughs so hard the bed shakes, still utterly unrepentant and entirely yours.

taglist: @beyoncesdragon

#btswritingcafe #jimin smut #jimin oneshot #jimin x reader #bts #bts au #bts smut #jimin fanfic #jimin #jimin x oc #bts oneshot #park jimin #jimin imagine #jimin scenario #bts fic #bts fanfic #joy.masterlist

4K notes · View notes

shotorozu · 4 years ago

Note

BABE , i saw a hc ( i think it was urs) where the boys’s s/o was really fashionable, ( as somebody that’s gone viral on pinterest a little too many times ) I WAS WONDERING , what if you did a todobakudeku ( separately please omg) with somebody that’s like the emma chamberlain of fashion and they own everybody’s pinterest boards and stuff AHAHA IDK , the amount of times somebody has said ‘ wait ur that one pinterest girl right?? ‘ ANYWHAHEEIE I LOVE YOU N HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!! 💗💗

pinterest famous s/o

character(s) : midoriya izuku, bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] afab! reader, they/them pronouns (at the request of anon) strong quirk hinted; not specific

headcanon type : fluff, crack-ish (x reader)

note(s) : thank you anon!! so ok, i still used they/them pronouns even though the reader is afab (again at the request of anon) and whdjwkd sorry for the inactivity :,) also im gonna post more later so— sorry for the delay

»»————-　♡　————-««

midoriya izuku

when middle school midoriya finally got a phone, he downloaded pinterest for the sole purpose of looking at screencaps of heroes

but then, he hasn’t touched it a few months, because he’s been training with all might

then, when he finally had enough free time again— he decided to go on pinterest

but instead of finding any heroes he could look at, he found the prettiest human being he has ever seen in his entire life 💀

that person was a different type of beauty, y’know— they weren’t just fashionable, but their beauty was,,

timeless? that’s how he’d describe it. yeah. that person lived in his head rent free for a while

sadly, he feels like you’re that person he sees once in his life, and never again 😔　which isn’t the case

when he finally meets you, midoriya realizes that you look VERY familiar— someone on pinterest, that he unfortunately, didn’t know the name of

but then wait! he realizes that you’re that person. that one person that blew up on pinterest, and ended up in all of the fashion boards.

okay, you’ve been recognized a few times in the past, just because you were pinterest famous— but you didn’t expect him to recognize you

“wait,, you know me?” you asked him when you saw the realization sink in

and you were honestly,, flattered when he went on a tangent on how you were on all of the pinterest boards, and how your sense of fashion was timeless

but you know what’s the best thing of it all? when izuku developed a crush on you (and not because he thought you were just an attractive face)

it was very easy to find pictures of you online! he says it’s for research but,, he tends to look at them for a long time

probably has 3-4 pages dedicated to your hero costume— since fashion icon = fashionable, yet a very practical hero costume!

does he get jealous whenever people fawn over your looks, or whenever he sees comments in pinterest comment sections just asking for your socials in such desperation?

hmm,, yes? he does occasionally feel like someone like you, should be with someone as equally beautiful as you

he thought he was always plain looking, but you wholeheartedly disagree! in fact, you fell in love with his ability to pay attention to detail.

to the random creeps in the comments section, he just contacts the uploader and asks them to delete any malicious comments and it works 100% of them time.

on the brighter side, he helps a lot with taking your pictures (if you ask him to) and sometimes! he’ll even appear in them

izuku will always be your #1 fan!

bakugou katsuki

at first, you’d be like “katsuki owning pinterest? naaah.” but! i think he would

being an all might fan, he liked looking at all might screen caps— and while katsuki would be on the discreet side, he’d find himself looking at them whenever he has extra minutes to burn

not to mention, the cooking recipes on there aren’t the worst, so he doesn’t just use pinterest to look at screen caps of heroes doing their work

and, how could he forget that you’ve been bugging him to search for rare screen caps? he says that it’s useless— but he finds himself digging for you anyway,

which is whyyy

he finds an entirely different rabbit hole, and it’s way past 10pm, 3 more minutes wouldn’t wound him.

the blond doesn’t know how he even stumbled on.. this side of pinterest. the one that kind of hurts his eyes.

the more well known side of pinterest, that is covered in pictures of fashion boards, and the standard pretty person.

the ‘aesthetic’ side, kaminari calls it— it makes bakugou cringe, and he was just about to refresh his page

when he spots something familiar, it’s you‼️ well it wasn’t just you but, you were dressed in something,, nice.

like sure! you’re attractive. but that’s not why he’s dating you, there’s a lot of reasons as to why

but, he’s baffled. seeing you in a different light, and in such nice clothing, what more, when he sees that you’re actually everywhere. he hasn’t seen this much of you and your attractive ass before

katsuki told himself that he was going to sleep a few minutes ago, but now? he’s left admiring all of your pictures.

how did he not know that his s/o’s pinterest famous? you’re practically in every single board!

he confronts you the next day in an oddly weird manner, “you didn’t tell me you were famous on that stupid pinterest app.”

you’re sheepish, “welll, i didn’t know that you were going to stumble on that side of pinterest!”

he doesn’t say anything, and really! it looks like he doesn’t care about the newest discovery of his s/o

but he shows his feelings in his own way.

like, how katsuki insists that he finds a new outfit that you’d absolutely love— one that’ll fit with your aesthetic

and that he insists that he does your graphic liner, because you’re going to ‘poke your eyes out’

makes an entirely different account to reply to those simps and creeps in the comment section, sort of like

random pinterest user : “the things i’ll do to be crushed by them 💦”

pinterestuser461903 : “go touch some fucking grass.”

also would’ve commented “your art sucks” at the poorly done drawings of you in the comments, but knows you appreciated the art— so he doesn’t

(still thinks the fanart doesn’t do you enough justice)

he’ll be super proud when someone notices you in person like “yeah that’s fucking right, but too bad they’re super attractive and way out of your league.”

in short, it looks like katsuki doesn’t care at all about your pinterest famous life, but he’s your #1 supporter

todoroki shouto

i am certain for this one— he doesn’t have pinterest

well, he didn’t have pinterest, until midoriya convinced him to create an account, but it kinda just ended at that

but the person that actually made him use pinterest was sero, because he kept bugging him to give it a try

todoroki finds the app very practical— he can find screen caps of heroes in action, and he can also find oddly helpful tips in cooking (and in anything)

but sero was like “todoroki, what about the aesthetic value??” and todoroki didn’t really get that part to be honest 💀

todoroki, being clueless didn’t know what to search for— so sero being the wonderful friend he is, helped him search for it

and that’s when it happened. it didn’t take that long, but they eventually found an entire section just full of pictures of you; their classmate and crush

“is that Y/N?” mina notices what they’re looking at, and she observes the picture “oh wow— it is her! no wonder why she looked familiar.”

“it’s impressive! our classmate is pinterest famous!” they continue to look at every single post in each board, and todoroki’s left to observe in silence

he has definitely taken a liking to you, even if he didn’t realize it at first— he liked you because of your hard work when it came to training, personality and patience, not because of your looks

obviously, todoroki thinks that you look good in anything, trashbag style or not. but seeing you in this light was interesting.

so after training, todoroki would spent a good portion of his time scavenging for more pictures— not because he was obsessed or anything

but because,, he really liked your pictures. maybe it was because without you in those pictures, it would feel incomplete

he didn’t know how to approach you after this discovery, which is why he’s glad that you approached him first

“todoroki! what are you looking at?” you took a peak at his screen, and you’re baffled to see yourself, and that very famous picture of you

he’s quiet for a second when he realizes that you’ve caught him staring at your pictures, but he explains calmly, “sero accidentally discovered your pictures,, and i just wanted to take a peak at them, if it was okay,,”

and he’s relieved— well, you’re also relieved. you didn’t know how your crush would react if he ever saw those pictures, but your heart skipped a beat knowing that he enjoyed looking at them

“it’s alright todoroki,” you smile, honestly over the moon as you spoke “i’m really glad that you like them.”

sometimes you’d get shy whenever he’d go on pinterest just to look at your pictures, “todoroki, not that one! that one was really old,,” is what you’d say whenever he’d look at your older photos but he’d still look at them anyway 💀

at first, todoroki helped you in his own subtle way. since he’s quite the fashion icon— he’d recommend you clothes to wear for future pictures

he eventually confessed— and it was because you were talking to him while he was really tired, and he blurted out that he really, really liked you and you almost passed away because of his words

so yeah— it was a case of secretly admiring their beautiful best friend to lovers scenario

he’d go the full mile when it came to taking your pictures. he’d check the weather forecast just in case if it was going to rain for that date, and impromptu picnic photoshoot

that boyfriend that has pictures of you in his photo gallery, and has a backstory for each photo if anyone were to ask

also that boyfriend that knows how to take pictures, will probably even lay down to take them, even if you didn’t kindly ask him to

when you asked him to join the picture, he didn’t really know how to— but he made it work! and the both of you guys went viral

but this isn’t all one sided, no— whenever you guys would cuddle, shouto would simply stare at you with HEARTS in his eyes,

and even before he leans in for a kiss, he’ll stare at you with so much love in his eyes, while he traces his thumb across your cheekbones. man’s in love— you’re gorgeous.

he knows that you know that he’s not with you because of any ulterior motive, you both have mutual trust in each other— so it’s not something you guys will bother on questioning because you’re both hot asf lets be real

he’s not uncomfortable whenever people gawk at you in public— i mean, you two get stares on the regular. and how could they not stare at you? you’re very attractive, and he’s glad that people recognize that

but he’ll get protective if they’ll try to be a threat to your loving relationship with him, he won’t be afraid to be blunt

regarding the comments on each pinterest post— he hates it when people say things out of the line

always tries to hide them from you so you don’t feel bothered by them, but if you knew about them— he’ll be sad :,(

but he’ll end up mass reporting those nasty comments— and they always get taken down, because of the shouto todoroki luck

in short? man’s whipped, and the both of you guys are SO attractive together— what more if people knew about the om chemistry?

really— you being pinterest famous was just a nice plus, he fell in love with you for you

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

541 notes · View notes