#u get mad at me for eating the 'wrong thing'

[just-miru]

silly things that confuse mein brain

[transzilla]

Personally i've been obsessed with scary, female and feminine phallic energy actually. Like I transitioned to male thinking I could take some of that  male power for myself, and whew jesus christ some of the shit I saw... For me womanhood has been used against me as a bludgeoning weapon but Never could I have imagined how femaleness and femininity could be used for incredible power and dominance. Both by women and feminine men. So much for harmless soft feminine energy. That's ftm rapists and abusers trying to make themselves seem soft and like women so people can't believe they could ever hurt someone. That's people using femininity and softness to control me, make me wear dresses so I'd minimize my legs and stop moving, poison all joy i could have possibly gotten from being a woman so I can't even hear my own name without flinching. That's other fucking trans men trying to lie and mislead and make me seem transfem within the lgbt community to villainize me. That's multiple of my stepmothers coming into my home, literally in evil phallic man style like in all the pretentious lit analysis, and taking all refuge and safety of my family from me. And not only for evil, like that's "playing the woman card" to get out of speeding tickets. That's trans women pioneering drag and finding ways to learn and adapt and exist in a world that seems to betray you no matter where you go, taking psychedelics and smoking mad weed and becoming incredible musicians and programmers, finding ways to be comfortable and thrive and be beautiful as a woman, like that takes incredible fucking strength that I'd say a lot of cis people don't have in them. That's hiding behind the moronic brute force of men, that's sheer resourcefulness and ambition finding and reclaiming your own power in a world that fixed to take it from you. Like goddamn.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[anadrenalineslut]

fyi, if you refer to me as "low supports needs" or "less visibly autistic," i will block you.

just because i can communicate verbally doesn't mean I can function without help nor does it mean that my autism is not visibly present.

am i less visibly autistic or can you just not recognize the autism in me?

[thedarknessthatloveindespite]

today was such a good morning u know. i had slept. GOOD NIGHT SLEEP N ALL. i even got up and got breakfast for me n my mom. I ATE. I CLEANED THE DISHES I USED. i even changed out of the shirt i was wearing for over a week! very productive. wait omg i forgot to mention. I ACTUALLY REALLY HAD PUT MOMS CLOTHS THAT WERE DONE IN THE WASHING MACHINE IN THE DRYER. I have to say. forgetting everything else, this is such a phenomenal act for me. it’s like fcking idk a meodorite fallen down. ITS A REALLY BIG THING. doing that is soooo hard for me. and i always have an immediate ‘no’ body reaction to the whole act but i didnt just fall into it. i like. toook a moment, you know and actually accessed it. and ! literally tho if mom told me i had to put some clothes in the dryer that would have been too much for me

BUT

anyways. i literally fcking did it. fcking hells

ANYWAYS it really was such a good morning day you know. baby steps!!!! and yeah u know i really do know that i dont do enough as i should etc. i really do know. its just really frustating how my mom doesnt see anything of this tho. yeah she needed someone to go n get the glasses and im really sorry for her but going outside was literally too much of a hurdle for me to just do. especially on short notice. like. really. my mind cant even think of trying it. visualling it

[delicatetaysversion]

.

[lcvclywon]

in sickness and in health

back to masterlist

synopsis After a long fight with Jay you find yourself giving him the silent treatment. Leaving you curled up alone sick in your room, with your only comfort being the instant tteokbokki you had microwaved for yourself earlier. However it seems Jay knew where to be and what to say at exactly the right times.

warnings: mentions of food, mentions of sickness, mentions of kissing, pet names (honey), slight angst, I made YN as the 6th member of lesserafim so that the whole same building thing made sense so...js roll with it pls 😁, also not proof read!, slight fighting

genre ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ hurt to comfort

pairings: idol!jay x idol!reader, established relationship

wc ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ around 1.14k

thoughts frm yuya 💭 i know i said i was gonna go on a hiatus but i needed a serotonin boost from writing after doing a horrendous maths paper.... so semi hiatus i guess ^^ anywaysss this drabble has been rotting in the back of my mind for a while soo here u are, i'm a huge huge HUGE sucker for hurt to comfort tropes so >,<

A week. It had been a week since you and Jay had a massive argument causing the two of you to give each other the silent treatment for god knows how long. However, as if the world was out to get you, the next morning after the fight you had been plagued with a sickness that you couldn’t quite pin down, all you knew was it left you bedridden until Friday. 

Due to said sickness, you obviously couldn’t join your group for schedules and barely entered the building for dance practice. You hoped Jay would at least notice your absence, send a message asking where you were or something. But to your dismay, radio silence.

“Who cares about some stupid guy anyways…” Grumbling under your breath you reached for your chopsticks to skewer another rice cake from your measly plate of instant tteokbokki and shovel it down your throat. Maybe excessive spice you couldn’t handle and soft pillowy rice cakes could solve all your problems. 

Ding dong! Weird, you didn’t think the members would be back this early? 

Begrudgingly ripping the covers off and placing your bowl back on your table, you went to the door. Hair still an oily mess from not showering properly and clothes stuck to your body from sweat, you clearly weren’t in pristine condition to be meeting anyone. Please don’t be a delivery man, please don’t be a delivery man.

However, after opening the door, you found yourself standing in front of the one person you’d been longing for the whole week. Park Jongseong. Your gaze softened slightly and a small smile crept onto your lips, but then you remembered that you were still mad at him. Fighting the urge to embrace him and cry out for his name, you plastered on a stoic expression of indifference. 

“What are you doing here.” 

“Chaewon told me you were sick,” he said before entering into your dorm, not bothering to wait for you to let him in.

Making his way over to the kitchen he placed a white takeaway bag onto the counter before emptying its contents onto the table: a warm bowl of your favourite porridge and a cup of tea from your favourite cafe. 

“What’s this?” positioning yourself in front of Jay, you scanned the table to see the numerous small boxes of side dishes sprawled across. 

“Porridge, it’s good for you when you’re sick.” he replied before shooting his head over to the remnants of your tteokbokki “Honey why are you eating tteokbokki, you’re sick you shouldn’t be eating instant food.” he scolded before reaching over throw your lukewarm leftovers in the trash.

“It’s not that bad…” you mumbled whilst picking at the side dishes “And why do you suddenly care, thought you weren’t talking to me” Scoffing you shot him a dirty glare. 

“Correction, you weren’t talking to me; I thought you needed some space, as you usually do after a fight.” well he wasn’t wrong, you did express to him that after arguments you wanted some time to cool down by yourself, “and also, I’m not ‘suddenly’ just caring YN. Who do you think Yunjin got all those drinks, medicines, and snacks from.” 

Oh… so she didn’t buy them herself. Your gaze reached his eyes as you felt your heart soften slightly, “Okay, well you could’ve sent me a text or something. You could’ve come here and given it to me yourself, why today out of all days do you decide to come huh?” meeting your glossy eyes, Jay could tell how hurt you were over his actions. He couldn’t deny that it pained him to see you this upset. 

“Okay look, I’m sorry. I wanted to come over, but Sakura said whatever you caught was contagious and that you isolated yourself to make sure you got nobody else sick. As I mentioned earlier, you told me you liked to have time to cool down after fighting, but it was stupid of me not to even try to text you. Today it all just-” Jay stopped his rambling, catching his breath before sighing out, “I just really missed you YN” 

That was all the confirmation you needed to run into his arms and hug him so tight he didn’t even think about leaving again. Jay was quick to reciprocate, arms wrapping around you to engulf you into his warm embrace, head buried into the crook of your neck whispering sweet nothings. 

Breaking away from the embrace and tilting your head up you were graced with a warm and familiar smile painted across Jay’s face; a smile you so badly missed the entire week. 

“Don’t ever do that again.” you said with a pout 

“Promise I won't honey,” his hands reached to cup your face before adding, “Only if you promise to stop eating that stuff when you’re sick.” 

“Hey, it’s yummy! I can’t help it that I can’t cook soup or anything, tteokbokki has never failed me.” 

“Guess I’ll have to keep bringing you food then.” he replied with a smirk

“Well, I could use a personal delivery man.” giggling you reached up to mirror his actions, cupping his face with your warm hands. 

“Oh really, would a delivery man do this?” and with that he pressed a playful peck onto your lips; soft and gentle, something you missed dearly. 

“Jay!” you exclaimed, “You can’t do that, you’ll get sick!” 

“So. What.” he said between pecks, peppering your face with kisses as you giggled and placed your hands on his chest to try and push him away. Pulling away he looked into your eyes with a warm and gentle gaze, smiling softly before leaning in to give you a proper kiss. Feeling the worry of your sickness transferring to him vanish, you melted into the kiss whilst wrapping your arms around his neck. In response, his hand found its way to the small of your back while the other reached up to cup the back of your neck. It always astonished you how easily he could pull you into his orbit, almost made you forget about the soreness of your body and the fever plaguing you. 

Retreating back he giggled at your pouting face. “I’d love to continue, but I wouldn’t want the food I bought you to get cold” intertwining your fingers with his, he led you over to a chair before sitting you down. “Let’s eat okay?” he muttered before taking his spot right next to yours, hand still intertwined with your fingers. His other hand however reached over to spoon you some porridge, moving the utensil closer to your mouth. 

You happily bent forward to enjoy the bite he crafted for you, an all too familiar sensation bubbling up within you—a warmth you could only describe as, home. Jay felt like home. And you hoped he would for the rest of your lives.

perm taglist ♡ (send an ask to be added!) @floweryang

[h4rring1on]

We all love u here buddy! Would you wanna write smth about reader with steddie, where Steve accidentally upsets her and Eddie’s trying to comfort her, all the while Steve’s begging to talk and apologise

pairing: steddie x reader

warnings: swearing, steve accidentally being mean without realizing it, thats it but please tell me if i missed something!

you woke up rather early today, just in time to see steve before he went to work. something happened the other day, and you wanted to tell stevie all about it!

“oh my gosh, i have to tell you stevie! guess what!” you said, steve didn’t really answer but you were used to it anyway, “yesterday, i went to the mall with stacy! you know stacy, she’s like my best friend ever! and we had so much fun we ate ice cream and went shopping and when we were walking around the mall i saw the cutest—“

“baby” he said, a little louder than the volume you were speaking, “i really don’t care what happened with you and stacy, okay? i have stuff to do” steve said, and left the house

you stood there, tears brimming in your eyes, you did it again. you annoyed someone into leaving. why were you like this? why did you have to be so excited and get so talkative over something so stupid?

you silently went to the bathroom, seeing as you just woke up, you then went to the kitchen, and began making breakfast for you and eddie

sooner or later, eddie woke up, you knew because you felt hands wrap around your waist

“good morning, sweetheart” he smiled

you hummed in response, and he furrowed his eyebrows

“that smells really good” he said and you didn’t respond

he went to the bathroom, and you set the table, once he got back, he saw the look in your eyes, you were now facing him, and it was clear you’d been crying

“hey, didn’t you go out with stacy yesterday?” he spoke as he ate

you nodded

“how’d that go? you did come back looking excited”

you shrugged and continued eating

eddie looked at you for a moment before dropping the fork and knife

“okay, what the hell is going on?” he said, and you just furrowed your eyebrows, “don’t look at me like that, can you just talk to me like a normal person?”

“what’s wrong, eddie?” you said

“what’s wrong? wha—are you mad at me? shit—did you see the magazine under the bed? baby i swear i love your body that was before we all started dating i promise you i don’t use them i mean maybe sometimes but it’s only when you’re away i sw—“

“i didn’t know about that” you simply said and he realized he fucked up, “it’s fine eddie, it’s not all about me, yknow, you can see other magazines, it would be good anyway so you don’t get bored of me”

“okay, what?” he furrowed his eyebrows

“just forget it eddie” you said, eddie didn’t want to forget it, but he kept quiet for you

that was until he heard sniffling, he looked up from his plate only to see you crying as you ate

“hey hey hey, whoa, baby” he quickly got up and kneeled down in front of you to get to your level, “talk to me, sweet thing, what’s wrong?”

“i’m sorry—i just…i feel like steve doesn’t like me” you said

“what? of course not, steve loves you!” he answered

“but—today before he went to work, i wanted to tell him about what happened yesterday and he said he didn’t care and left…am i really that annoying?”

“what—no, no, no, you’re not annoying at all” he said, wiping your tears, “cmon baby, you know i hate to see you cry…why don’t you come and tell me what happened, i’m all ears”

sniffling, you had slightly calmed down, and with a light smile you nodded "so...yesterday, i went to the mall with...um stacy! you know stacy...yknow what its nothing-"

"no no hey..." eddie mutters softly as he caresses her cheeks, "i want to know everything...don't leave a single thing out, got it pretty girl?" he says in a low voice

you nod slowly, and look down before eddie lifts your chin up and you smile softly, "so...anyway she’s like my best friend ever! and we had so much fun we ate ice cream and went shopping and when we..."

you continued on with your story, telling him every single detail about what you did and saw and such, and eddie nodded, listening to you talk, smiling

soon, you had hopped in the shower, and steve had just come home, you made his favorite food, all ready and placed on the stove to be heated up when he comes.

eddie's eyes flickered to the door as he heard it, he slowly walked to the bathroom, slowly closing it so you don't hear anything outside, and turned to steve who was just sitting on the couch looking at the ground

eddie stood there looking at steve, steve didn't even dare to look up, he knew what he did.

"you had a good breakfast with her today?" eddie says and steve sighs

"i know alright...i messed up-"

"damn right you messed up. that sweet girl was crying because of it today." eddie says and steve looks at him, his eyes softening

"shit..."

"the fuck was going through your head-"

"clearly not alot!" he says and gets up, looking at eddie right in the eye, "im an idiot..." he says and turns away, "i love to hear her talk...i love everything about her...i was just stressed out..."

“don’t, steve. that girl has been nothing but an angel. you can’t take it out on her whenever some bullshit at work happens” eddie says, a stern look on his face, he pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered to himself for a second before looking back at him

“she made you your favorite. it’s in the kitchen” eddie points out and walks away, steve sighed, he felt like a dick

you soon walk out of the bathroom after you’d gotten dressed, brushing your wet hair and walking, to be met with steve sitting on the couch, leaned to the edge, elbows on his knees, his hands raking through his hair as he mutters to himself

she paused for a moment, steve glancing up at her, just as she was about to turn away he gets up

“shit—wait! please baby, please?” he says, almost pleading

you turn back to him, fiddling with your hands after you’d placed the brush on the table, “um…i made you your favorite…i’ll heat it up” she says and nods before he even replies and walks to the kitchen, before he grips her wrist, not harshly but firm enough to keep her

“will….will you please…please—tell me what happened yesterday?” he asks softly, eddie, who was nearby, crossing his arms as you just looked at him

“uh…i already told eddie so…s’okay” she says softly and steve shakes his head

“i’m so so fucking sorry baby—please, angel? i know it’s not an excuse but i was just pissed cause of work and i wasn’t in the mood—but i’m so sorry. that doesn’t mean shit! i love hearing you talk, about every little or big thing in the world, with that pretty voice of yours. i’m so sorry baby, i’m so sorry” he whispers, his voice trembling slightly, like he was gonna run out of breath if she didn’t forgive him

you just look at him, your eyes softening, eddie glancing at you, you nod and hug him

“s’okay…i forgive you stevie…it’s okay” you whisper as you rub his back, your touch was a balm to his soul…he’d felt awful this whole day

“see that, sweetheart?” eddie says with a grin, “this idiot can’t get enough of you! look at him! you don’t talk to him for five minutes and he’s about to cry” he says and steve deadpans him, you giggle with eddie, and steve finally budges and laughs with you

“so…are you gonna tell me baby?” he says softly and you nod as you walk into the kitchen to heat up the food, eddie and steve both sit at the table

“okay okay! let me tell you! so i was—wait wait! let me start at the beginning—“ you talked on and on and the two listened, a soft smile on their faces, even eddie who already heard this story before, but they both cant help it. they’ll listen a million times…they will never get tired of you

a/n: hihi guys been a long long time since ive been around and writing, i missed you all so so much! i’m still getting into it so im not gonna be so frequent but feel free to request!! miss you all🤍

[maybanksprincess]

let me make it up to you. -J.M

warnings: 18+ MDNI!! smut! make up sex, fingering, f receiving, smoking, kissing, pet names, female reader, JJ and reader are aged up (bf, gf relationship)

summary: JJ and reader are in a disagreement, and JJ overreacts thinking he's going to lose her over it.

JJ had just gotten into an argument with you. your first real argument, well as he thought was a real argument. he was flipping out. so, the only logical thing in his mind to do was talk to pope and JB. They were all in the twinkie. John b is in the front, JJ and Pope in the back. He was a mess; his mind was a mess. Everything he did following that argument you two had, was all wrong. He couldn't even roll his weed correctly, and that was something he never failed at. He sighed and just prepared to smoke the poorly rolled blunt. he grabs a lighter from the pocket of his cargo shorts, puts the blunt in his mouth, and lights the end of it, inhaling some of the smoke.

"Yeah man, she just got pissed off, but I didn't mean anything by it, bro. she should know that"

"jj, maybe she just wants space." john b says, taking the blunt away from jj's fingers

"Yeah, but that's the thing dude, we've never had... space. that doesn't exist to us."

pope chimes in "yeah john b, horrible idea. jj follows her like a lost puppy."

"Not my fault I can treat my girl right, man." jj says, in a matter of a fact tone. he rolls his eyes, and throws his head back, shutting his eyes. then an idea pops into his head. "You know what, I'll catch y'all later."

he uses his fingers to push his hair back into his favorite hat, then he hops onto his motorcycle and drives through the path to your house. about 10 minutes later, he gets to your house and parks his motorcycle in your driveway, he gets off his bike and walks up to your front door. knocking with his secret knock you two share.

You had some shorts, and one of jjs shirts on. you hadn't been super mad about the little disagreement you had with him, you just didn't wanna give him the satisfaction of forgiving him so easily.

you open your front door to see your boyfriend fiddling with his hands and looking anywhere but your eyes, you almost felt bad. jj looked at you with those ocean eyes, "baby im sorry just..let me make it up to you. please?"

~

an hour ago, you never would've thought jj would have been eating you out for 30 minutes straight, to show u how sorry he is. he has his middle and ring finger in your slippery wet cunt, while his tongue laps at your sensitive bud, his tongue licks figure 8's over and over on your clit. after giving you three orgasms from his tongue, he pulls his shorts and boxers down in one swift movement, his girthy cock springing free and slapping his stomach. he enters you slowly, but once he's in, he's thrusting, and mumbling "im sorry baby," and "let me show you how much i love you" over and over again.

after you both finish, he cleans you up with a warm rag, and changes ur shirt and underwear to help u be more comfortable. he turns your fan on and brings u some water, and you two cuddle under your blankets.

"i love you jay"

"i love you more, cupcake"

~

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓮𝓷𝓭

[ginax0916]

hii could u do sturniolo triplets x fem reader where they treat her like one of them and toss shit at her but then they accidentally hurt her and they all panic. (maybe one of them have a secret crush on her up to u?)

★‧𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭‧★

Sturniolo Triplets x fem!bsf

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: Filming a car goes wrong when a small accident happens.

Warning: Blood mentioned.

*this is gonna be just platonic so they’re just besties*

I love this request by the way, tysm! 🫶🏻

⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑

I’ve been friends with the triplets for longer than I can remember. They practically call me their sister now. So it isn’t unusual for me to appear in their videos. I’m usually in the vlogs just because I think they’re funner to film than car videos.

We are all currently sitting on their couch watching random videos on YouTube eating ice pops.

“Guys I’m bored” Chris says.

“Ok then what do you wanna do?” I ask.

“I don’t know but something other than whatever this is” Chris lays back on the couch sighing.

“How about we start filming the car video for Friday?” Nick says.

“But it’s literally Sunday” Matt says looking at Nick.

“Yea but we already have our Wednesday video filmed, and if we film our Friday video today we can have the rest of the week free” Nick explains.

“That’s a good idea” I say.

“Would you be in it y/n?” Matt asks.

“I’ve got nothing better to do so yea” I chuckle.

“Ok then let’s go!” Chris jumps up from the couch with a sudden outburst of energy.

-

“Look over there it’s all empty” Nick points to an empty part of the Walgreens parking lot where we chose to film.

“Ok that’s good, Chris start getting the camera ready” Matt says, driving to the spot farthest away from people.

Either way it is 12 am so there weren’t much people out anyway.

“Do we even have a topic?” I ask.

“No but we can just start speaking and see where it gets us” Nick replies.

“Do you guys want anything from Walgreens before we start?” Matt questions as he looks at Nick and I from the rearview mirror.

“Yes I want candy and a drink” Nick says.

“Me too” I say looking at Matt.

“Alright I’ll go get it” He answers while unbuckling his seat belt.

“I’ll go with you” I quickly say.

“Yea same you never get me the right candy” Chris rolls his eyes.

“Ok well I guess I have to go too now” Nick sighs.

We all got our candy and drinks except for Nick who couldn’t decide what he wanted to drink. Per usual.

“For the love of god Nick fucking choose” Chris groans.

“But there’s so many options!! I can’t do this” Nick replies grabbing his hair in frustration.

“Nick if you don’t choose something in the next 20 seconds we’re leaving” Matt sternly says.

“Oh my god look” Nick gasps.

“What” I say confused.

“They have glass bottles of coke!” Nick exclaims grabbing one from the fridge.

“Why the fuck would you want a glass bottle of coke? Just get the can” Chris comments.

“No I’m getting this. What if it tastes better in a glass bottle than in a can?” Nick questions.

“Just give me the damn thing so I can pay and go film the video for fucks sake” Matt says annoyed at his brother, as he walks to the check out.

“Mamas mad” I joke causing Chris and Nick to laugh.

-

“What the fuck is up YouTube! Welcome back to this week’s Friday video that we happen to be filming on a Sunday” Chris screams as soon as the camera starts recording, causing us all to flinch.

“Chris stop being so loud” I say grabbing his arm.

“Well we have to have a memorable intro no?” He answers, turning his body to look at me in the backseat.

“Well yea but don’t yell” I chuckle.

“Guys is it just me or did this car shrink” Nick says moving around swinging the bottle of coke in his hands.

“Nick stop you’re gonna hit me” I say shielding my face in case he does hit me.

“I hope he hits you and you break your nose” Matt says with no emotion on his face.

“Damn alright Matthew very sweet of you” I sarcastically say.

“Did you guys know that every star you see in the night sky is bigger and brighter than our sun” Chris randomly says.

“That’s not fucking true” Matt argues.

“IT IS TRUE SEARCH IT UP” Chris yells.

“Chris how many times do I have to tell you to stop screaming!” I raise my voice at him.

“Well he’s doubting my facts!” He argues back.

“Well Matt did you search it up?” Chris smirks.

“Shut up” Matt smiles.

“I told you soooo” Chris laughs.

“I finished my coke” Nick burps.

“You’re gross” I scrunch my face.

“Yea dude stop fucking burping everywhere you’re turning into Chris” Matt replies going off what I said.

“What did you say to me? I am most definitely not turning into Chris. In fact I’m better” Nick starts to argue still swinging the bottle around as he moves his arms.

“Hey! What did I do!” Chris complains.

“Oh my god” I sigh knowing they’re all about to fight.

“Oh shut up Chris sit down” Matt says in Chris’s face.

“You sit down tough guy get out of my face” Chris argues back.

“Can ya’ll just shut up please” I say rubbing my temples.

“Sorry sorry” Nick says exhaling as he rests his head on the head rest of Matt seat.

“Here I’m done with my Pepsi” Chris throws his empty can at me.

“Do I look like a trash can to you” I say annoyed.

“I’m done with my sprite too” Matt says throwing his empty spite bottle in my face.

“Oh my god why am I being attacked” I laugh.

“Wait this was from yesterday I’m done with it too” Chris adds on, throwing an empty Fanta bottle at my face again while laughing.

“That’s so gross” I laugh at him.

“Oh take this one too” Matt laughs throwing another empty soda bottle in my face which I attempt to shield.

“How dirty is your fucking car” I giggle.

“Here take mine too” Nick says throwing his glass bottle at my face, forgetting it’s glass.

“Ow Nick what the fuck that’s glass!” I raise my voice grabbing my nose as I feel a burning sensation.

“Oh shit I forgot it’s glass oh my god” Nick gasps.

“Nick why the fuck would you do that! You ok y/n?” Chris yells at Nick then turns to me.

“No not really” I quietly say trying to hold back tears.

“Lift your head up y/n” Matt softly says grabbing my chin to lift my face.

Their eyes all widen as they see blood coming out of my nose.

“Oh fuck” Chris says getting out of the car and opening the door to my side.

“Y/n im so sorry oh my god” Nick freaks out.

“Nick apologize later right now to into Walgreens and buy tissues or paper towels and some Advil for the pain. A bottle of water too” Matt says to Nick then rushing to where Chris had pulled me out of the car so I wouldn’t get blood on the seats.

“C’mere sit down and tilt your head up” Chris softly says pulling me to the ground and gently grabbing my head and tilting it back.

“I’m gonna have a panic attack I hate blood” I say as my breathing picks up and tears slowly slide down my face.

“Hey hey shh. It’s ok me and Chris are right here with you and Nick is getting some stuff to help you ok? It’s okay” Matt comforts me and pinches the bridge of my nose to help stop the flow of the blood and rubs on of my shoulder with his other hand.

“Does it hurt?” Chris asks while he rubs my knee.

“Mhm” I mumble closing my eyes.

“Here I got the stuff. Fuck I’m so so sorry please don’t die” Nick freaks out.

“Nick she’s not gonna die don’t say shit like that calm down” Chris replies.

“It’s okay Nick it was an accident I forgive you” I quietly say trying not to move my head much.

“Alright here hold that there” Matt puts some paper towels under my nose to soak the blood which was starting to become less.

“Can you swallow a pill?” Nick questions.

“Mhm” I nod.

“Open” Chris taps the side of my cheek indicating me to open my mouth, and so I do.

“Here’s water” Chris softly says, handing me water to swallow the pill he put in my mouth.

“How’s your nose sweetheart?” Matt asks, moving hair out of my face.

“It’s better and the blood stopped” I answer moving the paper towel away to see that there was no more blooding come out.

“Y/n I’m so sorry please forgive me” Nick engulfs me in a hug.

“It’s ok Nick I promise. I’m not mad it was just an accident” I say forgiving him and hugging him back.

“Alright c’mon let’s just go back home and order food and watch a movie how does that sound?” Chris asks me as he helps me up so we can all get back into the car.

“Mhm sounds good” I mumble.

“I kinda jinxed this whole situation I said I hope he hits you” Matt laughs as he starts the car.

“You really did jinx it Matt” I say.

“Guys the camera was recording the whole time” Chris points out.

“Well then this a hell of a video” Nick laughs.

⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑

Tried my best 🤗😛

[miraclewoozi]

DRIVE. - l.c

DRIVE -- or, the night you realise it's actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place.

pairing : chan x fem reader. content : fwb > lovers. angst, smut (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT), fluff. more or less in that order. they’re both dumb as hell. not explicitly put in any detail but this was written with a more 70s vibe in mind so feel free to bear that in mind when thinking of the car/tech/styles etc if u like. w/c : 7.8k warnings : lots of swearing. it’s all a big fuckin misunderstanding because i am a whore for that. weed & alcohol mentioned (neither party is drunk or high at the time of this taking place). mentions of past cheating (neither mc or chan are the cheater). some pov switching because i said so. let me know if i've forgotten anything. proofread exactly once so if there's a typo, no there isn't. SMUT TAGS UTC.  notes : dino. get the fuck off my ass. i’m so serious i am not strong enough to handle the very real feelings i have for you. go away.  notes 2.0 : i listened to halsey’s drive for some inspo for this & took that as the title, so feel free to give it a listen if you want!

SMUT TAGS : dom!chan. car fuckin', making out, hair pulling, grinding/dry humping, fingering, finger sucking, dick riding, marking/scratching, unprotected sex (make good choices), overstimulation, multiple orgasms. praise. chan calls reader ‘baby’ & ‘sweetheart’. he’s a BIG talker during sex (sorry).

You’re not stupid. You heard his car pull up outside your house almost an hour ago. 

Since then, at random intervals ranging anywhere between thirty seconds and five minutes, there have been clinks of a thrown stone at your bedroom window, a piece of the gravel that lines your driveway. Each time, it makes your jaw tense, makes your fingers tighten in the bedsheets you pulled all the way up to your chin in a foul mood at 8pm. It’s been the same now for almost two weeks — you’ve been getting home from work, showering the day away, eating your dinner and retiring to your room as early as you possibly can. Your roommate tried to find out what was wrong around day three but you very promptly shut her down — she’s since learned that the best she’s getting out of you currently is a dismissive wave of your hand or some kind of a grunt. She joked one evening that it was like she’d adopted a teenager; you scowled so violently that she went to her room. 

Hardly any of your other friends have seen anything of you, either, despite the fact that several have come knocking to check if you’re all right. 

You’re very much not all right, as it happens. This is perhaps the most upset you’ve ever felt, and that’s going quite some way. The angriest, too. It’s worse than when that middle aged woman threw her entire bucket of popcorn at your head when you gave her salty instead of sweet, and you were picking kernels out of your hair for the rest of your six hour shift. It’s worse than when your nasty supervisor ‘forgot’ you were in the bathroom and ended up locking you inside the cinema overnight, because you didn’t have your own set of keys to get out and the people whose numbers you remembered weren’t answering their phones. 

It’s somehow even worse than when a summer crush from a few years ago broke things off by telling you that he already had a girlfriend back home and that you were basically just a means to pass the time and get his dick wet. God, and you thought that was the lowest you could possibly be.

Here you are, though, so far beyond all those things it would be comical, if it didn’t hurt. Chan has really done a number on you, and you’re not sure how you ended up getting so emotionally involved in your situationship with him that this is what you’ve been reduced to. For days now, you’ve been swallowing back tears of frustration (both with yourself and with Chan), rolling around in your bed night on night, unable to get to sleep because all you can think about is him.

Him, and the way he sounded genuinely horrified when his friends asked about the ‘movie girl’, and he laughed, ‘God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen’. It was impressive, how quickly your face fell, in no way aided by the squealing giggles that rang through the house as a very, very drunk girl came running out of the living room and shut herself in the toilet, drowning out a chunk of the conversation you were listening in on. Somehow, it hurt even more when he went on to say ‘besides, there’s… someone else’. 

And when you have managed to drift off after hours of staring at the walls and the ceiling, hearing those words on a loop on your fed up brain? Of course he’s been in your fucking dreams, too.

In your defence, all you were trying to do was use the mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen he and his friends were standing in, readjusting your top to cover the hickey that he had so kindly left on your collarbone just the night before. It wasn’t as though you sought him out to listen in; it was a coincidence. And okay, fine, maybe you should have walked away when the conversation turned to the topic of Chan’s love life. Maybe you should have not crept closer and held your breath to be able to hear them all better. Maybe, even, you should have stayed around long enough to ask what he meant by it then and there instead of hopping in a taxi and going home without saying goodbye to anyone. 

Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.

Never gonna happen. Well, Chan seemed quite happy to ignore the fact that it already had happened. Several times. At least four of those being in the very car currently on the street outside your home. The car he’s used on countless occasions to drive you up to lovers’ lookouts in the dead of night, letting one of his many mixtapes play through the tinny speakers, where he’d kiss you breathless and cradle your face between his palms, as his fingers would delicately explore beneath your clothes, as his broad shoulders would slot between your thighs, as his hips rol–

And maybe you aren’t stupid, but Chan seems determined to prove that he sure as hell is. He came to pick you up from work the day after the party like nothing had happened, and couldn’t figure out why you said you would rather walk home in the rain than get in with him and stormed away without any further explanation. Then, he showed up on your doorstep on the morning of your day off with your favourite coffee and a breakfast bagel, asking if you could talk. He still didn’t realise what he’d done to upset you, so you slammed the door in his face. Finally, just earlier today, he ran after you in the mall, persistent as you’ve ever known him to be, and laid a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t turn around to just the sound of his voice calling your name. 

You pushed him off so hard he almost fell over. 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” You had barked, shrugging your shoulders to try and realign your jacket. “I don’t want to talk to you. What’s not clicking?”

His face resembled that of a scolded pet when he took a step back and frowned at you. “I just wanted to–”

“I don’t care what you want, Chan,” you spat. “Give it up. I’m done.”

You could see the desperation swimming in his eyes as he scrambled for what to say and your heart felt like it was being weighed down all the way into your stomach. You supposed that was the part of you that was causing all this ache in the first place, and further that it was to blame for your current state of misery. But you steeled yourself and stood your ground nonetheless. He wasn’t going to win you over with puppy eyes and a pout. Not this time.

In his silence, you only then noticed how hard your breaths were coming, each slow and long but still dangerously unsteady. You lowered your voice, top lip curling at him as you muttered, “You’re embarrassed of me enough to lie to your friends? Fine. I don’t give a–… but shit, next time, tell a girl that to her face instead of behind her fucking back.”

It’s been seven hours, and you keep replaying the last thing he said to you as you stormed away (how his voice got quieter when he realised you weren’t turning back; how he sounded so hoarse, so sorry). 

‘I’m sorry if I hurt you - I— I never meant to.’

If. If. If. Were you not making it completely fucking obvious that he had, most definitely, hurt you? Part of your brain is even now starting to go down the route that he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s some twisted sort of damage control, that he hopes maybe if he plays dumb for long enough, you’ll forget what you were mad about or maybe start to second guess what you heard. But if that’s what he thinks, he obviously doesn’t know you very well at all. That’s never going to happen. 

Hell, for someone you were being so careful to keep in the appropriate lane in your head, Chan really has you thinking yourself in circles. You’re sick to your back teeth of him, and his stupid voice and his stupid smile and his stupid –

Clink.

Stupid. Fucking. Stones.

A groan loud enough to definitely catch the attention of your roommate sounds from deep within your chest at this interruption to your spiral and you finally, finally concede. Whatever argument he’s so clearly longing to have at 11 o’clock on a Thursday night? Fine. He can have it. If it means he backs off for good, you’ll give him his one last ruck.

You pull the window open none too gently and lean enough through it that Chan comes into view. He isn’t even looking up, you realise, too busy sifting through the driveway trying to find his next little projectile, and you hiss his name to get his attention. It startles him so much that he drops the indiscernible bundle in his right hand. He blindly scrambles to pick it up, those big, earnest eyes gazing at you as if you’re floating in midair before him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask him, trying not to raise your voice too loud but at the same time, needing to generate enough volume for him to hear. He holds the bundle in both hands, now, and they catch the light of the lamp by your front door. Flowers, you register, squinting to try and make them out, your brows furrowing so much that your forehead hurts. 

Black dahlias.

You choke back a laugh. Ah, the joys of fooling around with the son of a florist. Are they all so damn dramatic? (Or does he just know that they’re your favourites?)

Whichever it is, you tell yourself that’s not going to work. You won’t let it. Through gritted teeth, you say, “go away. I’m serious. I’ll call the cops on you.”

He shakes his head, begging as he steps just a little closer so his face is more visible in the amber light too. “Please–” he hurries, biting his bottom lip. “Please, don’t– just… tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Please.”

He never begs like this. In all the time you’ve known him, you swear Chan has said ‘please’ to you fewer times than you could count on your fingers. Which is by no means a bad thing — that’s just always been the very comfortable nature of your friendship, and later, the -with-benefits tag that you ended up sticking on the end. 

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and fighting not to shiver in the cold nighttime air. Note to self: don’t do a Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the fucking winter without layering up, first. “What does it even matter?”

“What do you mean, what does it matter?” He asks, looking down at the bunch of flowers in his hands, then back at you. “I-... you know I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. Please, just… if I did something–”

“There’s someone else,” you echo, fed up with his pretending. He’s a fair actor, you’ll give him that – he might even have been able to convince you, if you hadn’t already heard the other half of this tale he’s doing his best to spin in his favour. 

His face screws up, thinking he’s misheard. It’s his turn not to understand now. If you’re telling him you’ve met someone else, he’s got questions, because you’d promised to be open and honest with each other if that ever happened, so that you could call things off and go back to being just friends without it becoming a big deal. That was always supposed to be a calm conversation, not… whatever this is. You talked about it, right at the start. But… those are the words you’re saying, aren’t they? And why would you be mad at him if you were the one whose circumstances had changed? 

“What?” he asks, finally. “What do you mean?”

“God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen. Besides, there’s… someone else!” You raise your voice without really meaning to, before swallowing hard and glancing back inside your room. “You said that, Chan. Don’t piss me off by coming here and pretending like you didn’t.”

Chan starts to look like he’s trying to figure out an algebraic equation in his head while only having half the required information; his eyes fall down to the gravel, his lips move without any sound coming out of them, his features tighten until there are definite lines between his eyebrows. Then, it clicks. The lightbulb moment. He slaps one hand to his face and shakes his head furiously, and you just know he’s going to wake up with an ache in his neck tomorrow because of it.

“Oh fuck,” he curses. “No, no, no, no, no – that’s not–”

“What did I just say?” You spit down at him. “Don’t piss me off–”

“Listen!” He shouts, and you gesture with your hand for him to lower his voice, interrupting his flow of thought and rendering him silent for a moment. “Fuck, please. Come down here and talk to me. That’s not what you think it is.”

You’re in every mind to slam your window shut and leave him out there in the cold. It would work if you got out your headphones to drown out the sounds of him trying to get your attention, which you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he would do. And maybe then he’d get the hint; maybe then he would understand that you’re not just some pushover who he can just pick up and play with when it suits him. 

But he’s still holding those fucking flowers like they’re a lifeline, still looking up at you without a single lick of anger on his face. Not stress at having been discovered, which you would have expected him to be swimming in right about now. He looks… kind of beside himself, as if nothing could possibly be worse than what you’re threatening to do.

All this, for you? It just doesn’t make sense. 

“Please,” he says again, quieter, weaker. For the first time, you pick up on the hint of a shiver in his voice, and you swallow. Whether you’re gulping back your pride, or your resolve, or the last remnants of your sensibility, you don’t know. 

Does he deserve for you to hear him out? You’re not sure.

But does he deserve to be stuck out in the cold in just his stupid leather jacket and a pair of jeans? 

With regret, you think, no. He doesn’t.

All you give him is a scowl before you disappear from view entirely, pulling the window closed and drawing your curtains again. Faster than you think you ever have before, you throw on a sweatshirt over your pyjamas, grab your keys, and hurry down the stairs as silently as you possibly can. 

He’s stood in exactly the same place when you edge outside and pull the door closed behind you. Up-close, you can see the tiredness on his face: this is a man who has exhausted himself in worry, you think, and yet he still smiles a little when he sees you in full. He still holds the flowers out for you to take. He still purses his lips and blows out a stuttered cloud of air. Nervous, and not in the way you think he ought to be. So when you walk straight past him and don’t take the dahlias out of his hands, instead standing by his car and waiting for him to unlock it for you, you start to feel overwhelmingly guilty. 

Chan is many, many… many things. But he really isn’t this good of a performer, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself all week. For God’s sake, why is it so much easier to be angry at him when he’s not standing right in front you?

You slip into his passenger side as he fumbles to set the flowers down on his backseat again, and he joins you up front just a few moments later. His hands are shaking when he sets the keys into the ignition. His whole body is. When you cast a real look over at him, the tips of his fingers are pale and his lips are lacking their usual rosy, pink hue. Your own teeth are chattering despite only having been truly exposed to the cold air for a matter of seconds; you dread to think how frozen he must be.

“Are we driving?” You ask to break the silence. Since he got into the car and fiddled with the heating settings to try and warm things up a little, he hasn’t said a word. It’s awkward. It’s horrible. You already miss the comfortable way you’ve been able to sit for hours together, barely talking, just watching the lights of the city and the cars travelling through it. 

You already miss him. Which is a strange thought, seeing as he’s only about ten inches away. 

“If– if you want,” he says, stuttering through the frost in his lungs. “We can go—...”

“Drive, Chan,” you say. It’s not just because you want him to stop falling over his words – which, to be fair, you do. Chan has always been very confident, carrying himself with the air of someone who knows exactly their worth. It’s one of the things you treasure about him. So this? Is fucking weird. But a big part of it is that you know his car will heat up faster if it’s in motion, and right now, you think maybe he’s at risk of losing a finger or two if he doesn’t get some circulation back.

He steps on the gas and the car pulls away from your home. It’s the first time you’ve ever been in his car without there being some sort of music playing, whether that’s historically just been the radio or a tape he put together with the help of one of his older friends. (The tapes that always had your first initial on them. The tapes that he never failed to ask your opinions on when he dropped you home – as if he’d compiled them with only you in mind.) The silence feels jarring and you can hear every rumble of the engine, every squeal of the brakes he definitely needs to get serviced. 

But the car does warm through, and you sigh out relief as the bones in your hands move a little easier, as your fingers curl and uncurl to less resistance from your taut muscles. Chan feels it, too; his body relaxes, his breaths stop coming out in fractions, his face gets some colour back. The timing feels a little less awful when you finally say, “go on, then.”

Chan glances over at you as he drives down an unlit street. Only for a second, like he’s checking you’re still there, before his eyes train back on the road. He’s going to one of your favourite spots. It isn’t a lookout – it’s somewhere completely shut off from the rest of town, hidden by the trees near the railway tracks, somewhere you’ve never had to worry about being seen or heard. Maybe he’s anticipating a screaming match. Maybe he’s expecting something else. Maybe, even, he just cares about how much you love it there. 

“I didn’t know you heard that conversation,” he starts, sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, reach over and thump him, ask if that makes what he said okay, but you don’t. You stay looking out the front windscreen too. Waiting. “I… all right. I was out of my ass drunk.”

You click your tongue, pressing it afterwards against the inside of your cheek, but again, you stay quiet.

“I don’t think you heard what you thought you heard, though,” he goes on to say. “‘Cause– ‘cause it wasn’t…”

But you can only be quiet for so long in the face of this mess. Especially when he’s apparently working towards a doctorate in beating around the fucking bush. “I heard you tell your friends that it was never gonna happen with ‘movie girl’.”

Chan’s face brightens, and you can’t help but wonder what on Earth is wrong with this man. Why does he find that funny? Why is his chest moving like he’s trying not to laugh?

“And you… thought you were movie girl,” he says, nodding. “Okay. Okay – shit. I’m sorry.”

You look at him properly, now, as he indicates to the right and takes the turn that leads him down the lane to your spot. “What are you talking about?”

“I get it,” he says. “You work at the–... but you’re not movie girl. Not that movie girl.”

“Stop talking in riddles before I get out of this car, Chan. It’s too late for this shit.”

He holds a hand up as if to apologise and settles back against the head cushion, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he did thirty seconds ago. He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lips, before sucking in a breath and letting himself go on.

“You’re not movie girl,” he says again, successfully clarifying nothing. “There’s this chick I used to dance with — years back, before… God, when we were in school, like, forever ago. She moved away when we were sixteen.” As he talks, he reaches your destination and sets the car into park, before he unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face you. You do the same, shifting your weight to tuck one leg up beneath you, and with your undivided attention, he goes on. “I ran into her recently. She’s back in town now, I guess. It was like, two weeks—?”

“I’m gonna be all-over grey by the time you finish telling this story,” you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Can you please give me the short version?”

“Not if you want it to make sense,” Chan shrugs. Begrudgingly, you let him keep talking. “She said it would be cool to hang out, maybe catch a movie or do lunch or something — and look, I didn’t know she was asking me on a date, I thought she was just being nice, y’know? Trying to be friends, but… you weren’t working that day, it was when you had that… that stomach thing going on? And I brought you the soup my mom made, remember?”

You nod; of course you remember. At the time, you wondered why on Earth this grown man’s mother was making you food — you asked yourself whether he’d told her about you, or if she thought it was for someone else. In the end you decided he must have just been bringing you leftovers. But you’d been too worn out to start asking questions; instead, after you’d eaten, you let yourself fall asleep with your head in his lap as he patted your hair and hummed his favourite songs. You hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it since. 

“Anyway. We were sat watching the movie and she, uh,” he glances down at his lap, tips of his ears burning pink. “She put her hand, sorta, on my thigh? And then I was like, shit, I didn’t read this right, like… at all. So I moved it off and she took the hint — and after it ended I said to her, you know, I was flattered, right? But I wasn’t interested. And then I went home and got that soup and—… yeah.”

He came straight to see you. To look after you. Hell, you didn’t even fool around that night; in retrospect, it was all uncharacteristically domestic. And slowly, the pieces you’ve spent days struggling to fit together start to fall into place. It makes sense. The only question that remains is do you believe him?

Well, tell a lie. 

There is one more. 

“You said there was someone else,” you add quietly. 

You’ll die before you admit it, but this is secretly the part that was hurting you the most. 

You can’t even look him in the eye, right now; your cheeks are burning with the embarrassment of even caring. As much as you want to tell yourself that the only reason you’re pissed is just because of the dishonesty, you can only stare at yourself in the mirror and point-blank lie so many times. Someone else. You hate it. 

Just the thought of him seeing somebody else, taking them out on dates, smiling at them, laughing with them, kissing them the way he kisses you, touching —

A shiver runs the length of you and you cross your arms, thrusting your sleeve-covered hands under your armpits. 

Chan takes a deep breath in and exhales it slowly, like he’s blowing smoke out of his lungs. “There is,” he admits, nodding slowly, avoiding your eyes, too. “There is someone else.”

“When were you going to tell me?” You ask. 

Chan doesn’t respond straight away. You don’t notice, but eventually his eyes do land back at you; it’s only when he clears his throat to get your attention that you look at him long enough to realise he’s quite deliberately staring. His lips are lifted on the right in a lopsided smile, his eyes soft as he reaches across the seats towards you. You stare blankly down at his hand until he wiggles his fingers, and you think briefly that this is the most fucked up ending to a situationship you’ve ever been through. 

You drop one of your hands down and let him hold it, though, staring at his face as his thumb brushes over your knuckles and you wait for him to finally say it out loud. For him to announce that he’s fallen for somebody and that he can’t see you anymore. To put the nail in the coffin. Don’t tell me their name, you think. I don’t want to know anything about them. Please, just don’t.

“For someone so frustratingly smart, you’re really fucking dumb,” Chan says, finally, swallowing around his words and squeezing your fingers. Whatever stoic expression you had forced onto your face at the start of this conversation dissolves into irritation and you snatch your hand away from him again, letting his own fall and collide with a thunk against the handbrake. 

“Oh, sorry that I didn’t realise you were sneaking around behind my back when that’s the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do,” you snap. “God. The only stupid thing I’ve done here is get involved with you in the f—”

“You’re the someone else.”

Oh. 

Oh.

“I’m—?”

“You.”

The admission hangs heavily between you, as does your nonsense, unfinished insult. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves except sit perfectly still and try to somehow deal with your increasingly dry throats. When Chan moves, it’s only to turn down the heating dial when his cheeks burn a bit too hot; you appreciate it, in part due to the bead of sweat currently running down your back, but you don’t say so. 

“You could have started with that,” you say weakly, wrestling with all your strength to keep even some of your cards close to your chest. It’s not working though. Your attempt to conceal your elation is a bit like throwing a single leaf on top of a bison and calling it camouflage. 

Chan commits to laughing, finally, your sentiment breaking him too. Now, you do crack that smile, albeit mostly just at the sound that comes from him. It’s bright and airy, lighting his whole face up as he drops all the way back and leans against his car door, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I was trying to build to a moment! It’s not my fault you hit every branch of the anti-romantic tree on your way down.”

“I am not anti-romantic,” you scoff in protest. 

“Yes — you are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“No, you’re just an idiot.”

“Says she who didn’t realise her fuck-buddy had feelings for about six months, Jesus.”

“Chan—” You start, your voice laced with a playful warning. 

“Here I was thinking I was making it completely obvious,” he rambles on. 

“— oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Dropping hints left and r—” … “Huh?”

He stops short a fraction of a second after you finish, stumped and silent, frozen with everything but a little buffering symbol above his forehead. Kiss me, you said. Chan, […] just shut up and kiss me. All right, you’ve asked him to do that before, but not like this. Not as if you’ll wither away should you not get a taste of his lips this instant. It takes him some time to process it, but he does move in first, eventually. The way he always does, closing the distance between you like he’s been shot out of a cannon, one hand either side of your face, crashing feverishly against your mouth. 

Every now and again, he’ll be happy to let you take charge and set the pace: mostly just if he’s feeling lazy or especially generous. Tonight isn’t one of those times, however. He holds you and kisses you possessively, like you’re his, like this is how he finally gets to lay claim on you, licking between your gasp-parted lips after he moans straight into your mouth. He’s spearmint sweet, edged with that one cherry flavoured chapstick he stockpiles as he grins up against you, rolling his body fluidly with every separation for air, every changing angle. 

He pulls your sweatshirt up over your head and throws it down into the footwell on the passenger side, straight away hurrying to kiss you hungrily again, hands cupping your neck. His tongue is in your mouth once more, there’s no way you could possibly differentiate your breaths from his: you’re one, in every way you can be with your clothes still on, but it’s not enough. 

“Want you,” you whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pleasure rushes through you from head to toe. 

“You’ve got me,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “I’m all yours.” 

“No,” you insist, whimpering when his cute little nose drags across your cheek until he’s pressing hot kisses to your jawline. “I— fuck—”  He suckles on the sweet spot below your ear and your spine tingles, head tilting to give him better access. “Chan, I want you.”

Chan settles back from you, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now darkened with desire. All he gives you is a singular glance sideways, but you know exactly what he’s suggesting. You nod, breathing deep, biting the inside of your cheek; he turns off the headlights and it’s all systems go. 

There’s a rush to scramble into the back of the car. Chan takes the keys out the ignition and climbs through the gap in the seats; you opt for the less hazardous approach of getting out of the vehicle entirely and re-entering it instead. Not that it bothers him — no sooner is the door closed behind you, Chan’s hands are on your hips and he pulls you on top of him, your leg knocking the dahlias off the leather and onto the floor in the process. You gasp and glance down but he averts your attention with two fingers under your chin, guiding you to look back at him. 

“What? You think this is the last time I’ll bring you flowers?” He asks, capturing your lips as he leans up to you; at the same time, his hands drop low and he starts to slide open the buttons down the front of your pyjama shirt. “Baby, m’gonna get you so many more.” 

You sigh at the affectionate name, at the change in its use; until now, Chan has only called you baby while he’s buried inside you, bruising you inside and out with sharp thrusts and rough-gripping fingers. But as much as you can feel him growing hard against the inside of your thigh while you try to get comfortable, one knee planted either side of his hips, you can’t help but feel as if this time, it means something different. 

(He’s had feelings for six months: it always meant what it does, now. You know that, deep down.)

Somewhere in amongst the never-ending sloppy kisses and constantly travelling hands, you manage to strip both his jacket and T-shirt off him and you’re pressed bare-chest-to-bare-chest with Chan, feeling every little hitch of his breath in his lungs, every thump of his heartbeat, every tiny increase in the temperature of his skin. Your desperate search for friction between your legs has you rolling your hips down against his hard-on, drawing grunts and making him squeeze at your tits when you rock against him the right way. His head eventually drops to your chest and he replaces one hand with his mouth, freeing his fingers to slide down the front of your pyjama bottoms. 

It’s honestly rarer for Chan to get straight to the point than it is for him to tease you a little first, so when he flattens his palm against you and brushes his fingertips over your already aching clit, you let out a squeak of surprise. He shivers, releasing your nipple from between his teeth for a moment; once he’s collected a little more arousal to ease the friction, he continues to rub at the bud, slowly building the pressure inside you.

“No panties?” He asks, struggle clear in the roughness of his voice. 

“I was in bed,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. It’s for the best that it happens out of pleasure, really, because you’re not sure you’d be able to stop yourself rolling them in exasperation at his remark otherwise. You shuffle a little, lifting yourself up on your knees more, breath hitching when he uses the newly granted space to dip his hand lower and press a finger against your hole. “Please, Chan — this can’t be comfy— just…”

“S’fine” he argues, shaking his head, despite the fact that the angle of his wrist is actually kind of painful, right now. The truth is that he can’t bring himself to care: not when he can smell your fabric softener on the shirt still hanging off your shoulders, the shampoo in your freshly washed hair, all so pretty mixed with the damp scent of your desire. Not when you clench around him as he slides his finger in and out of your cunt. Not when he could get you to soak all the way through these pretty satin pants. 

Your arms snake around his neck as he dips a second finger inside you to join the first. The way your thighs tighten around his hips could — should — be embarrassing, the fact his sturdy lap holds you open enough for your pussy to be toyed with even more so. You almost always do this too music, too — for what might be the first time ever, you can hear every single wet sound your body makes, every hitch of your own breath, every grunt he gives even though he’s not the one being pleasured. 

You don’t even realise how you’re rocking up and down against his hand until Chan licks from the base of your neck to your jaw, smirking over your pulse point and says, “gonna ride my cock this good too, baby?”

And if it was anyone else talking to you like this, you would be embarrassed. Mortified, at being so needy you’re here doing all the work for him. At the cry you give as he splits and scissors his fingers to stretch you out. But instead? You feel another rush of arousal drool out of you as you press your nails into his shoulders and nod, bouncing harder and watching how his bicep tenses up solid with the effort of keeping his arm steady for you to use. 

“Wanna,” you gasp. “Want it so bad, Chan—”

Despite your pleas for this to move further, when his hand pulls back out of the elastic of your waistband, you feel like you could throttle him. The urge ebbs away when his soaked fingers press to your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you, though — you end up suckling them clean, licking up every trace of your own slick. You lock eyes with him as you do, slumping on your thighs so your drenched core sits right over his tweaking length, the seam of your pants giving just enough friction to your clit for it to feel good as you grind down on him again. 

“Get those off,” he instructs, trying to sound hard and dominant. Which would work, perhaps, if his voice didn’t crack in the middle of the sentence. “Now.”

Even though you’re overcome with a need to tease him, the desire you have to be split open on his length outweighs it, so you do as you’re told and hold it in for later. It’s not easy, but you manage to manipulate yourself in his lap to work the satin down your thighs and past your knees. He helps you tug them the rest of the way past your ankles and feet, shoves them onto the floor — Chan’s hands settle back on your hips and yours skim down his stomach at the same time, fingers grazing over the little hairs that trail from his bellybutton down into his jeans. 

“Can I?” You ask, playing already with his belt buckle. 

He hums assent and you slip it all the way open, tugging as he moves his hips underneath you so you can pull it free from the loops. Between you, you manage to get his jeans unfastened, to pull both them and his boxer shorts down over his ass and to his knees; finally, fucking finally, his cock sits pretty and leaking and free between your stomach and his. It’s getting cold in the car now the heating isn’t on, but you’re already burning up in anticipation for him to ruin you; the way his abs ripple as he takes his shaft into his hand and strokes himself a couple of times to prepare tells you he’s in the same boat. 

It’s like clockwork, from here. You shift into position as easily as you settle into bed after a long day. Chan rubs his tip through your folds, feels the warmth of you and hisses through his teeth with fluttering eyes. Just like always. This never changes. He can’t ever get enough of that first feeling of his cock against your pussy: it’s like the first hit of a blunt, like the first sip of a cold beer, the first full-body stretch early in the morning. He’s sure it’s what arriving at the gates of heaven must feel like. 

You sink down onto him slowly, fluttering around his tip and stilling to give you both a moment to get used to the feeling. He’s thick inside you. Thicker than his pretty, dainty fingers have ever been able to stretch you enough for. Even as wet as you are, you still need to suck a deep breath into your lungs before you can relax your hips further and let your heat swallow him all the way to his base. 

Chan’s head is tipped back in pleasure, he’s biting his lip at the sting of your nails pressing hard into the back of his neck. He loves it, though — loves how the pain shoots in waves down his spine, how it tingles in his brain, how he knows you need to anchor yourself this way or you’ll lose control. He kneads at your ass as you sit against his thighs, listening to you whimpering at how deep he is inside you.

“So fucking tight around me still,” Chan groans, focusing all his willpower into keeping his hips down on the leather beneath him. “Shit, baby — you feel so good…” His neck softens and his head drops forward again as you start to move, rising and falling over and over. He kisses your throat and down to your collarbones while you work up to a rhythm, sliding his palms up your back, hugging you close to him. 

He isn’t even the one putting in the hard work, but within minutes of this, his soft, fluffy hair clings to his forehead. A light sheen of sweat makes him radiant under the moonlight breaking through the trees. He’s breathing heavily, the top of his toned chest painted a soft pink — you don’t think he could possibly look prettier. Not until he cups your jaw with his hands and you look upwards: you land on his smiling face, those plush, swollen lips, his devilish but sweetly glittering eyes. The sight of him, looking at you like you’re some kind of Goddess, makes your pussy tighten and your tiring hips stutter. You slip your pyjama top all the way off your arms and curl your fingers into his hair, meeting him in an open-mouthed kiss, through which you’re both just beaming. 

You’ve never kissed him this much. When it all started out, you sort of had a rule against it, but now? Neither of you can stop. As he starts to fuck up into you, taking the reins and letting your burning thighs rest, he keeps your face steady with his hands and freely allows his lips to slide against yours. It’s not refined. It can’t be. Not with how hard and fast his movements quickly become, not with the onslaught of curses and moans and babbled praise coming from the both of you. One particularly sharp thrust makes you yelp out a squeak of his name and he just swallows it down, making a point to keep aiming for— and hitting— that same spot inside you. You’re a mess. 

He could do this all night. When your orgasm bubbles inside you and he starts pinching at one of your nipples, sending you over the edge, he’s nowhere near finished. Even though your cunt massages at his length, throbbing and pulsing through your climax; even though your voice is so high by now that only dogs can hear you; even though you nearly collapse on top of him with almost all your weight in his lap, and he has to work twice as hard to keep this going, he barely slows. He definitely doesn’t stop. 

“You can gimme one more, right sweetheart?” He asks, grunting into your neck. “Always feels so fucking good when you come.” You choke up an ‘mhm’, to which he responds by slipping a hand between your bodies and down to where you’re connected. His thumb presses against your clit again — not moving, just applying enough pressure to make you stutter when you say his name. 

Your thighs are still twitching when you try to lift yourself a little, try to meet his movements as he chases his orgasm too. The “problem” with Chan is that his stamina is otherworldly. You couldn’t keep up if you wanted to. 

“Relax,” he says, tensing his jaw, doing the opposite himself. “Fuck — lie down.”

It’s pretty cramped and hard to move, but you lift yourself off him and only slightly lament at the sudden emptiness between your legs. There isn’t time to get too upset, however: moments after you get comfortable on your back, Chan shoves his jeans the rest of the way down and stands with one knee planted on the seats, lifting one of your ankles up to rest it on his shoulder. He slips back inside you easily then, gripping around your calf to keep you both steady. From the word go, his pace is relentless. You scrabble around for something to hold onto but the entire car seems to melt away; you ball your hands into fists at your sides instead, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. 

“Mm-mm. Look at me,” Chan hums, tightening his grip on your leg. “Wanna see those pretty eyes.” 

You obey, opening your lids to look up at him while he pounds into you hard enough to make the car shake. Over, and over, and over, and over. Rougher. Faster. For how long? Who even knows. All you’re truly aware of is how good it feels. How the windows grow foggy with the  steam of your laboured breaths. How his sweat mingles with your own. 

When his fingers on the other hand get reacquainted with your clit, when he bites down on his bottom lip, when his thrusts start to get messier and more erratic and the veins in his arms start to bulge out, you know he’s getting close. He doesn’t need to tell you out loud. The smirk he wears speaks for itself. 

“Where d’you want it, baby?” He asks you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle. 

“In— mmh, in-…side me—” you stammer, hips jolting as you near your second orgasm to match his first. “Please, Chan — want it all…”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah—”

Well, he must’ve been holding himself back something spectacular, because a few thrusts later you watch all of his muscles contract as he tips over the edge, and you go hurtling with him. It’s all so much. All your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and your vision starts to blur at the edges; it’s not long before you have to close your eyes to shut one of your overworked senses out, completely. Your muscles are sore. Your throat hurts. Even your lungs ache. 

God, he hasn’t gone that hard in so long, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can barely speak — it’s going to take you a week to recover from this, minimum. 

He stills deep inside you, feeling his cock throb with the last pumps of his release. Your leg slips off his shoulder and your foot lands down with a thud onto the car’s (thankfully clean) floor; he bends forward to kiss you, still breathing heavily against your lips. You’ve come over completely boneless and reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair again feels like running a marathon at sprint pace. You’d fall asleep right here, right now, if you could, but with sweat cooling rapidly against your skin, you know that’s probably not up there as one of your finest ideas. 

“You really think getting involved with me was stupid?” Chan asks, nudging your nose with the tip of his own. He’s never been less serious than this in his entire life, which stops you feeling too bad when you lightly slap at his rock solid chest and try to push him off you.

“Yes,” you lie, attempting to reach to the ground for your pyjama shirt while he grips your chin and attacks you with tiny little pecks all over your face. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

(Chan chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s quite happy to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, really. He can stay that way, as long as you promise never to stop.)

thank you so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it - likes, feedback, comments, reblogs are all so appreciated.<3

[stars-and-the-min]

☆ the wrong way to hard launch (6) | OP81

summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au

pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc

a/n the highs (friends) and lows (exes) of life aka lina lore 👀 preface : i know nothing about nfl or american football so suspend ur beliefs if u happen to know a thing or two, also my amateur photoshopping skills are really improving from this

masterlist | last part | part 6 | next part

INSTAGRAM

logansargeant

liked by alex_albon and 142,394 others

logansargeant The long-awaited ultimate rematch tagged: selinabui and oscarpiastri

alex_albon Wait, why wasn't I invited?

selinabui ok captain america pack it up ↳ logansargeant @ selinabui Stay mad 😎 ↳ oscarpiastri @ selinabui Why would you challenge two professional racing drivers to a racing game? ↳ selinabui @ oscarpiastri i thought you loved me? ↳ oscarpiastri @ selinabui Ah but you love winners more 😏 ↳ logansargeant @ oscarpiastri Stop flirting in my comments???

cofrisy_f1 LOSCAR??? OSCALINA??? LOLINA???

beemiepie she chose the orange car 🥺🥺🥺 ↳ siera_mblanc @beemiepie a true papaya girlie 🧡🧡

cameliazzz just posted to their story

replies selinabui cami, did u or did u not insist u'd be fine 😭

lukaszhang the SLANDER??? didn't we have loads of fun???

aidan_ebass Touché Millie, see you soon?

eb_jonno sidenote: can you bring mochi on the plane? are there food restrictions?

oscarpiastri

liked by opeightyone and 121,983 others

oscarpiastri 次回まで trans: until next time

piastri_lina obsessed with this couple's dedication to never tagging each other

opeightyone Get 'em next year 💪

selinabui currently feeling like a 1930's housewife waiting for her husband to return from war ↳ cameliazzz @ selinabui HELLO NOT YOU PLAGARISING MY STORY??? FOR A GUY??? ↳ selinabui @ cameliazzz nooooo wifey i didn't mean like that :(((

TWITTER

lina !!! @EB_selina · 37m you've gotta be shitting me

NFL Jersey Numbers @nfljerseywatch · 1h Tennessee Titans RB Thomas Howard (@THowdy) is wearing number 24. Last worn by Kenny Vaccaro. #Titans

↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 34m no fucking way... i don't wanna jump to conclusions but... ↳ emme @flowersforcami · 32m he tweeted about it. girl- jump to those conclusions.

Thomas Howard @THowdy · 58m The move to the #Titans has been a huge change, and 24 has been a number close to my heart for many years, I'd consider it a lucky number for a lucky year 👊 ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 23m eat shit and die i'm so fucking serious you have no right to wear her number ↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 22m hahaha (not) funny but april fools was last week say sike RIGHT NOW

fiona🩷 @fififorlina · 29m thinking about how tommy is playing with lina’s number i'm weak 😭 ↳ 🕯️manifesting EB3 🕯️@ linabelles · 13m no, we're absolutely not doing this, it's not sweet at all, do you even know how badly he treated lina? ↳ emme @flowersforcami · 11m there are tommy-supporting linami’s in this day and age???

oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 39m lina watching her ex and cousin play/drive with her number be like:

↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 23m idk how to feel bc it's kinda hilarious that our little rockstar is slowly plaguing the sporting world with her number

lina !!! @EB_selina · 22m @LoganSargeant for my own mental health we're not going to talk for the next... 50 years ↳ Logan Sargeant @LoganSargeant · 8m I'm sorry? Did I do something wrong? ↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 5m it's not you, it's just your countrymen (i'm generalising again)

MESSAGES

from the phone of selina bui

TWITTER

liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 35m WHY IS EVERYONE FLOODING MY TL WITH T*MMY SHIT ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 34m lina is one of the only music girlies who is SO SO SO vocal about how much she HATES her ex and you still can't listen to her??? ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 34m not just with her music but as in SHE OUTRIGHT HATES HIS GUTS ON MAIN she COULD NOT possibly make it clearer that she would rather shoot herself in the head than ever consider getting back together with him ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 33m i'm so tired can't you just let the woman be happy with oscar ↳ abby <3 @devilvows · 17m liv, baby, i think you need to change ur name to 'defense minister of linami nation'

INSTAGRAM

selinabui

liked by oscarpiastri and 139,204 others

selinabui some weird second string loser who's not worth mentioning

cameliazzz thought the message was 'let everyone know i'm doing ok'? ↳ selinabui @ cameliazzz message appropriately sent :)

oliviarodrigo AAHHH stunning as always 💝💝 ↳ selinabui @ oliviarodrigo watch out, the literal moment we're in the same city i'm hunting u down (my favourite american 🥺)

oscarpiastri Haha not me though right :) ↳ selinabui @ oscarpiastri idk maybe...?

TWITTER

lina !!! @EB_selina · 1h this is really hindering my enjoyment of 'so american' ↳ Oscar Piastri @ OscarPiastri · 1h I reaaally hate to break it to you but I think you might be the American in this relationship ↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 53m take that back rn i'm serious ↳ Oscar Piastri @ OscarPiastri · 49m Which one of us has lived in California for half a decade? 🤔

↳ abby <3 @devilvows · 37m can you imagine waking up to that face? oscar piastri, you lucky bitch

↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 2h oscar piastri i was not familiar with your game ↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 2h selina, i understand you now, i get it now, truly i do, hooooly

oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 1h i think the entire empty bottles fandom and oscalina shippers trying to cleanse the tl by posting some of the most jaw-clenching, hottest pictures of oscar and lina is so funny ↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 1h the best part is that it's actually working and also so many more empty bottles fans are realising how unfairly attractive oscar piastri is

INSTAGRAM

selinabui Seoul, South Korea

liked by oscarpiastri and 138,958 others

selinabui heal my s(e)oul tagged: cameliazzz, blublublupi, and lukaszhang

lukaszhang i thought i specifically asked you not to post that ↳ selinabui @lukaszhang i actually wasn't gonna but then you told me not to so obviously i had to

oscarpiastri 🧡 ↳ selinabui @ oscarpiastri any other fucking colour heart i beg ↳ oscarpiastri @ selinabui You know I'm contractually obligated

emptybottlos i'm convinced they agreed to go on tour just to travel, visit friends and eat a bunch of authentic food

ceciliapham someone else is in seoul rn 👀 ↳ marie_h.sb @ceciliapham in what world do you think your gonna see lina and chris yamada in the same room again?

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit @fionaschicken @namgification @cherry-piee

[hopeluna-archived]

hi can i pls request mc snapping on the brothers while having an argument with them thxxx🌷🌷

(ahhhh i sorta got into this angst mood while playing nightbringer sorry😭)

✿𝆬.𖥔 ݁ ˖ | arguments

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Characters: the brothers x gn!reader

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ CW: hurt/not really much comfort, arguments, no arguments on Beel's one 'cause I love him too much to hurt him, went a bit overboard angst on Satan lololololol :)))

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ A/N: took me forever but finally clearing out my asks cause i've gotten a bit of motivation! I hope u like it nonnie <333

m.list

↺ Lucifer

Lucifer goes quiet, silently reading your face having never seen you snap at him- anyone like that. He's too prideful to admit that both him and you were at fault, he felt like you had to admit your mistake but he was too focused on proving you wrong that he hadn't realised the exhaustion and silent frustration that had been bubbling on your face.

↺ Mammon

Mammon looks like he's been slapped, metaphorically. He subtly flinches away. He knows he should have noticed the dark bags of exhaustion under your eyes but he was ignorant and now you're angry at him. He's had people snap at him all the time but not you, never you. Mammon's heart races at the thought that you hate him now, just like everyone.

↺ Leviathan

Rationally, Levi knows you have just been exhausted from the entire day and didn't mean to snap at him like that. He also knows that him getting envious that you didn't spend your day with him when you were actually working just worsened your mood. But you always understood that no matter how he tried, he can't really control his sin....right?

↺ Satan

It is sort of funny he thinks, in a twisted way. Mostly its him losing his cool and snapping at you when he doesn't mean to. But oh how the tables have turned! Satan can practically taste the wrath emitting from you in the air. Its a bitter taste, like vomit. He wonders if you can somehow feel it too when he gets angry with you. Does your heart crack in two the same way his has now?

↺ Asmodeus

His words of poison halt at your venom. Only when you have stormed out of the room does Asmo snap out of his daze and realise that he had gotten too far which led to your anger bursting. He tries to shrug it off, it doesn't matter to him much. That is what he tries to convince himself when he feels his eyes water.

↺ Beelzebub

You never really got mad at him for his gluttony 'cause you are well aware that its something he can't really control, so Beel is surprised when you came home and snapped a little at him for eating the meal you made for yourself. He knows you're just tired, but he still can't help but feel his heart sink at your words and lose his appetite as it gets replaced with a pit of guilt.

↺ Belphegor

Belphie sits there idly, picking at the skin around his nails as he replays the words you said over and over again in his head before leaving the room and him behind. He wonders if he can sleep it off but that doesn't work when the oddest thing happens, he can't sleep. Belphie knows that you don't mean it, well at least he hopes you don't....

© hopeluna. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost any of my work in this or any other site. Do not steal or modify my ideas/concepts either.

[m4dm4yhem]

Can you do a fic where miles g aka miles 42 got mad at the black reader for ignoring him as a prank?

˗ˏˋ ★ˎˊ˗ - BOREDOM

___________________________________________________

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

pair: m.morales x black! fem! reader

summary: [name] hasn’t always been the brightest when it comes to deciding which pranks she should pull on her boyfriend, but after this.. she definitely learned.

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

_________________________________________________. ˏˋ ★ˎˊ˗ [NAME] FELT THAT THE FEELING OF BOREDOM…

was similar to that of a sickness, the teenaged girl thought it might’ve a silent death as well, as boredom can kill or injure many things and many people depending on the actions you taking during those feelings.. friendships, reputation, and sometimes even relationships.. and [name] learned that the hard way..

————————————————————————————

our story takes places on a wednesday morning, [name] was sitting in her second period class, legs crossed, and her head resting on the palm of her right hand while her left hand scrolled through tiktok, where she discovered some sort of ‘ trend ‘ where you ignore your boyfriend for an entire day and then talk to him like nothing happened…

she knew deep down that this was a bad idea, but the urge for anything to entertain her was stronger than her logically side, the girl favorited the video, making a mental note as she continued to scroll down her ‘ for you page’, just as she passed the video her boyfriend, miles texted her

miles 💗: hi mi vida

miles 💗: was wondering if you wanted to go out

miles 💗: like on a date

miles 💗: if no, thats coo. ima swing by regardless

perfect.

it was like this opportunity was given to her on a silver plate, egging her to do it.. like the little devil on her shoulder was whispering in her ear..

“ do it..”

“ it’s just a prank..”

“ do it.”

temptation ate away at her for five straight minutes, before she caved.. she tapped on the notification, it taking her to her messaging app, she started key smashing, to make it look like she was typing on his side of things, before she stopped, deleting it and then exiting out of the messages app.

the response came nearly as soon as she did that.

miles 💗: ???

miles 💗: girl can you answer the question?

read: 11:32am

typing . . .

miles 💗: [name] you getting me real fucked up rn.

miles was the type to get mad first before his logically side kicked in, where he’d rack his brain for everything he’d ever done that may have upset the people around him, so when the next array of messages came and he was apologizing.. [name] wasn’t surprised

miles 💗: mami what I do?

miles 💗: did I upset you?

miles 💗: im sorry if I did, ion mean to make you mad

miles 💗: r u mad cus I said your forehead was mad big?

miles 💗: mami you know I was joking

miles 💗: mami please talk to me

miles 💗: im sorry

miles 💗: I’ll leave you alone.

miles 💗: I love you <3

those set of messages made [name]’s skin crawl with guilt, but she left those messages on read as well. miles didn’t text her back again for a minute, as the hours went by she’d see tiny glimpses of him and he’d glance her way, but she’d turn around and walk the other way before he could come talk to her.

the third time she did this, miles didn’t let her go this easily, he was determined to figure out what was wrong with his girl, he needed to know. what did he do to fuck up this bad?

“ ma .” his tone was soft as he jogged to her side.. no amount of time doing missions as the prowler made it so he could have the stamina to walk by a woman who didn’t want to talk to him.. those women could win the olympics by just walking.. “ what I do? can you please tell me? ion wanna go home with you angry at me and I don’t even know what the problem was..” his voice was barely above a whisper, and he seemed genuinely upset with the fact he was getting ignored by his girlfriend

this was it.. the guilt was eating away at her, she turned to look at him, seeing his eyes were glossy, like he was about to start crying. “ c’mon… mi vida, I can’t lose you.. just speak to me, tell me what I did.” he had a harsh frown on his face as his pace slowed down once [name]’s did, she couldn’t keep up this stupid thing she saw on tiktok anymore, her boyfriend was too sweet and too much of an over thinker when it came to this.

“ nothing.”

“ mami.. don’t say that, just tell me-“

“ no, miles.. im being deadass.. I was just.. bored.”

miles’ look of worry he once had, was now placed with a look of anger and disbelief, he blinked a few times.. holding back the tears he almost let spill at the thought of losing the woman he loves

“ what you mean you was bored?”

if this was anyone else he would’ve said something a little more vulgar.. but his momma raised him better than that.

“ you mean you was playin’ in my face? making me think I did sum to you..?”

hearing her actions broken down to what they truly were made [name] wince before she nodded her head; his dark eyes looking down at her shoes, she heard her boyfriend suck his teeth and mumble about how stupid that was.

“ ‘m sorry, miles.” she gave an awkward shrug of her shoulders as she looked back at him, her eyes showing just how much guilt she had been harboring deep inside her ever since she ignored the first message

“ wow.”

that was all he had to say, as he sniffed, his soft sniff seemed to catch [name]’s attention.. god, he was about to cry? miles was always crazy about her, and always making sure they was good.. remembering all of this only made her hurt squeeze with remorse.

“ so..you was just playing with my feelings.. cause you was bored.. do you know how much that affected me? i thought you was gon’ break up wit me, [name]!” his words were like razors in her heart as she listened to him spill out his frustrations

“ …bro. that shit won’t cool, what the hell.. you had me thinking shit was bad, yo..” miles shook his head, he narrowed his eyes at his girlfriend, who had her arms around her body, who was staring down at the ground.. and who’s lashes were getting wet with tears

“ ‘m sorry.”

her voice cracked as she spoke, and she blinked.

the tear ran down her face, it was big and fat as she looked at him for a moment, their eyes meeting and his softening in nearly an instant

“ mami…” he let out a sigh, one of frustration mixed with anger

“ that prank wasn’t.. cool or nothing.. I’m mad right now. so ima chill off you for a minute, this don’t mean we breaking up.. we just…on a break.. not one of those ones which is an excuse to cheat.. im your man and you my girl, but I need like.. a break to reset, I’m mad right now.. don’t mean ima be mad forever, okay?

even though she hurt him, he was still willing to put his feelings aside.. for her..

god why did she do this stupid prank, her heart was in her stomach, and her whole body hurt.. but she nodded

“ okay..”

she owed him this little bit of space, it wasn’t gonna be forever

[waxflowerexe]

Gang member (?) Todo x Reader

Building off my older (gang member) Todo who spoils u

ᴳᵁʸˢ ᵀᴴᴱ ᶠᵁᶜᴷᴵᴺᴳ ᴰᴿᴬᶠᵀ ᴰᴵˢᴬᴾᴾᴱᴬᴿᴱᴰ ˢᴼ ʸᴼᵁ ᴴᴬⱽᴱ ᵀᴵ ᴰᴱᴬᴸ ᵂᴵᵀᴴ ᵀᴴᴵˢ😞

Instead of sorcerers they’re gang members who fly pretty much under the radar of any police. Posing as old money rich. (Will build on this)

Older bf Todo who you meet by chance at a coffee shop (bc cute) he’s just passing by chance to grab a drink, he sees you and he knows he has to have you. He tips you a stupid amount and leaves his number. You were just as enthralled, his scruff yet polished appearance yum. His ponytail littered with greys, yes! And just generally, size kink go brrrrrr

Older bf Todo who waits for your call but doesn’t answer straight away (he’s busy, in a meeting or whatever have you) but as soon as he’s free he calls back realising it’s you he apologises profusely and asks you out.

Older bf Todo who understands your caution. An older man twice your age asking you out isnt normal by any means. But when you call him to agree to a date he’s overjoyed.

Older bf Todo who asks you to dress up all fancy and pick you up a few blocks away per your request and takes. Opening every door and offering his arm wherever you walk. (Chivalry isn’t dead!!!!)

Older bf Todo who finds the most lavish restaurant for your first date and refuses to let you pay for anything regardless of your protests. He swipes his card with a cocky smile knowing he won the little quarrel.

Older bf Todo who takes you on a walk and urges you to talk about all your ‘silly dreams’ (as you put it) but instead of laughing is completely in awe of your passion and drive to achieve your goals. However when you ask him about what he does his answer is vague. ‘Barwork’ is all he offers, leaving you to question the means by which he acquired lavish life he seemingly lives.

After date one turns into two turns in to three and so forth, Todo is obsessed, whenever you’re both free he wants you next to him. He’s always touching you, whether it’s a hand snaked around your waist of simply holding your hand. He begs you to leave your apartment to live with him and after some convincing (buying your old apartment for you to soothe your anxiety about things not working out) you move in together and quit your job. Making him and you all the more clingy. Most importantly he offers to fund whatever aspirations you have.

Older bf Todo who is so good at managing your outbursts and attitude if almost feels mocking. He stands over you while you cuss him out and dosen’t bother arguing, he’s ’too grown’ for that. He lets you blow off your steam, secretly finding it cute how you pace around and try your best not to be calm. He always lets you say your piece no matter how irrational, he says his piece too. More often than not leaving you feeling a little silly because of how worked up you got, but he always reassures you in the end.

“My sweet don’t yell, come, tell me what’s wrong. Let me fix it

“Baby it’s okay to be mad….(insert rationality or gift)”

And if someone hurt you, strangely they’re never seen again.

Older bf Todo who takes you to work dinners every now and again. You always pick up a shady vibe. It’s not really a dinner, it feels like a series of poorly hidden transactions and unspoken alliances. Nobody really eats, even though Todo makes sure you’re well fed as he sips whatever drink he’s feeling. You bring it up but he dismisses you which is unusual, regardless, the look on his face tells you not to pry too much. It’s quite literally the only thing you argue about it

“Love I said fucking drop it, that’s just how it goes”

“I’m not doing this today love”

Older bf Todo who tries to apologise for his sharp tongue and quell your little suspicions by buying you whatever you wanted. Clothes, shoes, bags done. Hell, he’ll even get you all the books and games in the world. Just shut up about his work.

“Darling, that stupid shady bar pays for all your things” (as he petts your hair and shushes you to sleep)

But you ain’t forget 🫣

At the end of the day he just wanted to keep his girl safe

~Flo🌸

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | Part 23

You're just so frustrating.

Tags/Warnings: Game Designer!Jungkook, Non Idol AU, established relationship, fluff

Length: 1k Words

There is no taglist for this fic.

Callob with @euphoricfilter !

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Fuck this.

Jungkook refuses to believe that that was how he proposed to you- he won’t aknowledge it, eating his breakfast cereal with a pout on his face.

„Jungkook, come on.“ You laugh, sitting across from him. „I told you it was perfect-„ you say, though he shakes his head, beginning to talk before he can properly swallow- which makes him choke, and you laugh as he coughs up the stray bits of food that entered the wrong tube.

„I don’t care, it sucked.“ He denies, tears on the edges of his eyes as he drinks some water.

„I mean I did suck you-„ you start, causing him to send a glare your way, but you just sigh. „Jungkook come on. It doesn’t matter to me how you asked me- the fact that you did makes me happy already!“ you tell him, before you tap his bowl. „Now eat your cereal or it’ll get soggy.“

He does- but that still doesn’t lift his mood at all.

He doesn’t really have time to figure out another masterplan like last time, since he’ll have to get back to work soon to not make anybody mad enough to slap some god awful project onto his table to be done before the new year- but maybe he can still come up with something memorable. There’s still some money in the bank, and he’s soon to get his december bonus for the holidays, so maybe a fancy date? Now that he thinks about it, you never went to one together. He doesn’t even really own a suit.

He should get one. And you a pretty dress. But not one that’s too expensive, because he’ll surely break it later back home.

Searching online for a fitting suit and dress for you both during his break, he doesn’t even notice you entering the room- quietly, thinking he might still be working, to put a plate of warm food down for his late lunch, and only now does he notice he’s been working for hours on end again without a proper break. And before he can even thank you properly, you’ve exited his office room again, door clicking into the hinge, as he looks on his plate.

Dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets, and ketchup squirted down in the shape of a heart.

That's it. That's the last straw.

He exits his office with his plate in hand, setting it down on the coffee table next to yours as you were just about to turn on the TV, looking at him all surprised. “Everything ok-“

“You’re doing it again!” He complains, standing there like some upset Sims character, pouting and brows all frowned.

“I’m.. what?” You ask, confused. “..but you love dinosaurs when you’re upset-“

“I do!” He whines out, and you’re halfway expecting him to stomp his leg like a rabbit any second now, as he stands there with his hands clenched to fists. “I really do, and I also love it when you put my ketchup in a little heart there.” He says.

“…okay?” You chuckle, unsure. What’s he getting at?

He sits down next to you, and begins to eat, quietly. You’re not sure what’s wrong with him, but he’s sometimes like this, sometimes he doesn’t make a lot of sense. Or maybe he does, and he just can’t properly explain it well.

“You do-“ he starts, taking a sip of some water to wash down his food, as he shakes his head at his plate. “-You always do so many things for me.” He rants, almost angrily. “like now. You always know how to pick me up when I’m down, or you just-“ he picks one of the dinosaurs up to dip its tail into the ketchup, “-or you just do stuff like this randomly, and it’s the sweetest shit ever!” He exclaims, glaring at his food. “ridiculous.!” He shakes his head again, biting the tail off.

“Yeah cause, I love you?” You giggle, not quite sure what he’s getting at, still.

“Bu’ I ‘ove u ‘oo!” He responds agitated with a whine, before he almost chokes on his unswallowed bite, making you push the glass of water closer that he eagerly takes to help push down his food so he can talk properly. “I love you too, but you’re so good at it, it’s unfair!” He complains, making you laugh.

“How can someone be good at loving someone else?” You snort, pushing his shoulder when he looks at you with his brows wiggling suggestively.

“No but, in all honesty.” He says, sighing as he stares at the last dinosaur waiting to be eaten. “You’re so good at like.. Doing stuff for me. Everything you do is always so special.” He mumbles.

“...so you feel bad now because your proposal wasn’t special enough?” You wonder, and he shrugs, defeated, and nods. “Jungkook, you do know that the way you proposed is literally.. The most uniquely Jungkook-thing you could’ve done? Everyone goes on fancy vacations to propose!” You tell him, and he only hesitantly moves his face to look at you, back arched as he sits with no tension in his body. “Jungkookie, baby, it really doesn’t matter to me.” You press, hand on his thigh-

And it’s then that he notices, and jumps up to run into the bedroom, roaming in one of the drawers for something. “What is it now?” You laugh, as he stubbornly tugs at your hand before he stops.

“Wait which hand goes the ring on again?” He wonders to himself. “And which finger..?” He says, making you giggle, before you tell him where it goes. And the moment it’s on, he stares at it for a good while, just.. Letting it happen.

He’s really doing this. He’s going to marry you.

“We’re gonna have to kind of.. Talk about how we wanna marry.” You say, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Can’t we marry here at home? With bowser?” He wonders, and you laugh at him, pulling him closer to hold his cheeks as you kiss him.

“Like I said.” You giggle, lovestruck. “It really doesn’t matter to me, as long as I’m marrying you.”