#watch out for the charmer boy!!!!!

[maruflix]

  — ★ 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓. (𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄-𝐁)

☆ — “AAH, NOW I KINDA WANT TO SEE MY NAME TATTOOED ON YOU. WANNA DO THAT FOR ME, BABE?”

SYNOPSIS: They may be unassuming, but they’re plenty scary. There’s just one who can make them bend. FEATURING: Suo Hayato, Kiryu Mitsuki, Hiragi Toma, Kaji Ren, Endo Yamato x f!reader

Read the FIRST PART with Umemiya Hajime, Sakura Haruka, Tomiyama Choji, Togame Jo, and Takiishi Chika here!

SUO HAYATO

No one has ever one-upped Suo Hayato.

He has always showed up with his clothes ironed and pressed, hair neatly combed handsomely, exuding an aura so effortlessly calm and gentle. But everyone knows that someone with such an even temper is usually the most dangerous person in the room, and no one has ever dared to mess with the sharp tongued boy.

To his friends, though, he’s more like a playful sibling, always teasing everyone with a smile on his face. In an act of revenge, most of his friends have tried to tease him back, only to fail miserably. Nothing has ever managed to fluster Suo Hayato, not even when he showed up to Café Pothos hand in hand with you.

He’s unaffected by the disbelieving stares he got from his friends, ushering you to sit down before he takes his own seat next to you, immediately holding your hand again in a naturally swift motion that causes you to blush.

“What?! Who?!” Sakura chokes out, and you feel a bit worried for the boy because of how red his face is starting to get.

“Ah, everyone, meet my girlfriend.”

Suo breaks the news like he’s telling everyone what he ate last night. Even his friends are more flustered than he is, but they tried hard to make you feel comfortable by quickly including you in the conversation, asking you questions about your relationship with Suo. Thanks to your friendly nature, they seem to grow comfortable around you fairly quickly, all of you chatting and laughing away while eating. All the while, your boyfriend is watching the scene unfold serenely, drinking tea like a nobleman.

“So, who asked the other one out?” Comes the question from Kiryu who is now invested in your stories. His friends nod enthusiastically next to him, curious about the answer as well.

“Me, of course.” Suo answers coolly.

“Was he nervous during the whole thing?” Nirei unknowingly leans closer, gripping his little notebook with one hand and a pencil on the other.

“Yes! He was so cute!” Your reply elicits gasps of disbelief all around the table, and your boyfriend tilts his head to you, smiling.

“Was I? I don’t think I was nervous at all, though?” His friends are now unsure who to believe. Surely you wouldn’t lie, but they just can’t picture Suo being nervous. With his effortlessly suave personality, surely he would be like a casanova..?

You raise an eyebrow. “Huh? But you totally were! Don’t you remember blushing after I kissed you like this?” Leaning closer, you peck him in the cheek sweetly, letting your lips linger a few moments longer before pulling away. 

Everyone can tell that he’s trying to keep up his calm facade, but the twitch on his lips and the way warmth starts to spread on his cheeks are proof that he definitely didn’t expect you to do that in front of his friends. He opens his mouth to defend himself, but all that comes out is a choked “I-I-” before he is stunned back into silence.

You smile as Kiryu breaks into laughter, followed by Sakura, Nirei, and Tsugeura. The Suo Hayato, Mr. Not-A-Single-Hair-Out-Of-Place even after beating up miscreants, is now running a hand through his hair, trying to hide his blush with a stupid smile plastered on his lips.

KIRYU MITSUKI

Kiryu Mitsuki is a natural charmer, that much is clear. He’s the kind of guy who takes care of his appearance and has a gentle disposition, which makes him popular with the girls. He’s also good at fighting, and no girls can resist that kind of guy.

So when he asks you out, it feels like a dream.

You worry about whether he finds you attractive or not. Sure, he literally asked you to be his girlfriend, but you can’t help feeling self-conscious when your boyfriend is every girls’ type.

You mention this casually to Suo and Tsugeura when your boyfriend went to use the restroom with Sakura and Nirei, but the two boys only laugh. “Really, you have nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing.” Suo says with a knowing smile, “I take it you’ve never seen his phone, then?” You shake your head no, his words leaving you even more puzzled.

Tsugeura adds to the mystery by nodding his head to what his friend said. “You’re really pretty! I’m sure Kiryu thinks the same way.” When you question him how he’s so sure about it, he answers with a “I just know.”

“Hey, rather than torturing yourself over it, why don’t you pay attention to his phone?”

That is the last hint Suo left you, and now you are walking home with your boyfriend next to you. You steal glances at him. Should you really take a look at his phone? But what’s in there anyway?

Kiryu notices you staring at him. “Hmm? Are you cold?” He slips his jacket from his arms and throws it over your shoulders, effectively warming both your body and your face.

You blush furiously as he chuckles at your flustered state. “T-Thank you, Mitsuki-kun..” Okay, this is not bad, although you’re still curious about his phone. Glancing over to him again, you try to find where he keeps his phone.

Once again, he notices you staring and mistakes it for another thing. “Oh, sorry. Do you want to hold hands?” He smiles, not waiting for a reply as he reaches for your hand and gently holds it.

You blush again. The universe must’ve heard your plea because his phone suddenly beeps. He takes it out of his pocket mindlessly, unaware that you instantly hyper-focused on the gadget, carefully eyeing it. What the heck is on his phone?

His screen lights up and your breath immediately gets caught in your throat. His wallpaper is a picture of you… but it’s a picture you’ve never seen before. It’s a picture of you writing something in full concentration taken from the front and totally without your knowledge. It’s edited, too, with heart emojis around your face and squiggly doodles adorning the sides of the photo. A neat “mine” is scribbled on the bottom right in Kiryu’s handwriting. 

You snuggle up to him and a clueless Kiryu smiles, releasing your hand to drape an arm around your shoulder, bringing you close.

HIRAGI TOMA

Hiragi can’t help the way his face looks. You’ve told him many times that he needs to relax and take it easy, but how can he ‘take it easy’ when he needs to babysit the entirety of Bofurin, including the leader himself?

His anxiety skyrockets with the arrival of the troublemakers (aka the new first years) and now he’s too nervous to be wearing any other expression than the one that’s on his face right now: eyebrows knitted, lips pursed in a thin line, eyes narrowed. He’s always been a scary guy, but now he looks scarier. Even the biggest troublemaker, Sakura, is trembling a bit.

After giving him an earful, Hiragi gulps a pill down his throat before sauntering his way to you. He sighs and sinks next to you as your hand automatically makes its way to his hair. You play with them, feeling your boyfriend turn putty in your hands as he sinks more into your touch.

“Toma-kun, don’t be too harsh on them~”

“What, are you their mom now?” Hiragi gruffly replies, but he’s not at all intimidating when he practically has his head on your shoulder now.

“I guess so!” You giggle, “We can be their parents. I mean, you act like their dad already.”

He blushes at your comment and is about to say something when Sakura and Suo spot him. He instantly jolts back to a sitting position, blushing to the tips of his ears as if he’s been caught doing something embarrassing.

You chuckle, knowing that he’s too late. You can tell his underclassmen have already seen the public display of affection by the way one of them is blushing and the other one is grinning from ear to ear.

“W-What?!” He barks once they’re close enough.

Suo hands him his phone, still with a grin on his face, as Hiragi quickly takes it from him. He’s terrified when you start patting his head again and the two boys’ responses grow in exaggeration. 

After weighing his options, though, he decides that your touch yields more benefit, so he leans back into you, ignoring the rest of the troublemaking first years who are now starting to gather around his table.

KAJI REN

Kaji Ren tries not to be an emotional person. Oftentimes he succeeds in doing so as his friends know him as a calm, responsible guy they can lean on in times of need. He genuinely thought that he’s been getting better at keeping his emotions in check. But of course, he has his slip ups. He has a list of the things he absolutely loathes, and one of them is people who mess with his stuff. Another one is people who ask him to do trivial shit. Oh, there’s another good one: vague people who don’t tell him outright what they want and beat around the bush.

Try as he may, he usually ends up glaring daggers at the idiot who bothers him with the things above, frightening enough to make them run.

“Ren-kun, I forgot my earphones at home..”

A simple pout is all that it took for Kaji to remove his headphones and place it on your ears before opening his phone and switching the song that is currently playing to the one he knows you like. You smile and thank him, head bobbing to the music.

After a few minutes of walking in comfortable silence, you tug at the sleeves of his hoodie, making him pause in his tracks and turn to look at you. “I’m cold.” You grin sheepishly. Kaji sighs but takes off his hoodie anyway, pulling it over his head before putting it on you. You fiddle with the long sleeves of his hoodie before placing his headphones back on your ears, your body now enveloped with the scent of your boyfriend’s cologne.

Momentarily satisfied, the two of you continue walking. You’re now humming along to the song, your arms swinging with every step you take, as Kaji matches your pace, now only dressed in his shirt and pants. The heat is stinging his skin and the noisy drones of the cicadas are buzzing in his ears, but he pays it no mind, his face relaxing upon seeing your happy state.

But you stop walking again, now holding out your hand. “Ren-kun.”

Kaji doesn’t even miss a step, taking your hand in his as you immediately resume walking, a happy smile on your face. You touch his shoulder with your head, a simple gesture of affection, and he returns it by softly kissing the top of your head, making you giggle in delight.

All is well in Kaji’s world.

(Behind the two of you, Hiragi and Umemiya are gawking at the sight. Next to them, Kusumi and Enomoto are unaffected, already used to their captain and his girlfriend’s dynamics by now.)

ENDO YAMATO

People often ask you why you’re even with Endo Yamato. Sure, he’s hot, but that hardly makes up for his shitty personality. They think you’re pressured into dating him, or manipulated by him. No matter how much you explain it, they already have their prejudices, so you cease to care. They have no idea that Endo is anything but shitty when he’s with you.

“Babe, baby, baaaa-beeeeeyy, look at what I got~”

Your face instantly brightens up when you see Endo walking your way, waving his arms cheerfully. You wait until he’s close enough to engulf you in a bear hug, placing small kisses on your forehead before he lets go, satisfied.

“What did you get?”

He grins. The next thing you know, his hand is in front of your face. You squint in confusion before noticing something. Your name.

Your name, inked around his ring finger.

“You did not—!” Shocked, you cover your mouth with your hands, a blush creeping its way to your cheeks.

“I did.” Endo shrugs, “Aw, are you shy?” He tries to pry away your hands, “It’s proof that I love you~”

“You’re so dumb!” But the twinkle in your eyes betrays you. “Doesn’t it hurt? Why didn’t you get it somewhere else?”

Both of you pause, with Endo raking his gaze all over his body. “Well…. I tried almost every spot, but.. Wait. Don’t tell me you didn’t realize it.” He deadpans, placing his hands on his hips.

“Huh? Realize what?” You parrot back, confused.

“This!” He gestures to his neck in exasperation. “Realize this!”

Once again, you squint.

“Helloo? My infinity symbol?”

You tilt your head.

Endo slaps his forehead. “It symbolizes eternal love, you doofus. Man, I did this for you and you didn’t even realize it? This is truly the downside of being infatuated.”

“Oh!” You finally understand that he’s gesturing at the infinity symbol tattooed on his neck, “I thought that was for… you know, for Takiishi-kun.”

Endo narrows his eyes as your gaze trails down to the ground. After a moment’s silence, you feel a finger under your chin, forcing it up to meet your boyfriend’s burning gaze. “Hey. I dare you to say that again.”

You purse your lips, but this is just the beginning of Endo’s rant.

“How many times should I tell you? He might be my muse, but you?” He hungrily kisses you, using his free hand to hold the back of your head and pull you closer to him. When he pulls away, he stares at you with his blue eyes, as if daring you to challenge his love again. “You’re my goddess.”

And now, looking at him; eyes impossibly gentle, lips slightly parting open and close to catch his breath, his hand lodged around your head, your name around his ring finger and the infinite love painted on his neck—

“Aah, now I kinda want to see my name tattooed on you. Wanna do that for me, babe?”

You might just believe him.

NOTES : Hello my loves, come get your daily dose of Wind Breaker fluff. This is the last part of my Weak Spot series :-) I also expanded on the Endo ask I got in my inbox here because it just fits :-D TAGLIST: @kaiser1ns

[joonieskinks]

captain john price who’s jealous over the attention the other 141 boys give you

- it was a happy day when the gorgeous diplomatic relations officer joined the 141. you’re intelligent, kind but also not afraid to go after what you want when you want it, not to mention persuasive

- they nicknamed you “charmer” straight out the gate

- and charmed your way into their hearts you did

- namely your captains. he knew it was undignified to go after a member of his own task force, as well as a younger woman at that, but it didn’t stop him from actively seeking out your attention and touch

- he’d ask you into his office just to steal you away from the other boys trying to talk you up and check you out

- johnny was always trying to get you to spar with him, trying to get you in any kind of physical position with him, kyle would ask for your help with tasks while simon just liked to watch. they all definitely enjoyed their time with you in different ways

- but was there anything in john’s office when he stole you away? no, he just wanted to have you solely for himself. sure, he’d drum up some kind of paperwork for you to sign or ideas to run by you. any reason, right?

- sometimes johnny or kyle will convince you to spar with them. their hands all over you, the adrenaline pumping and your hot body in some skimpy workout outfit. yeah, that’s a treat for them alright. so john’s gotta be there too. he’ll interrupt before you can start

- “ladies like this pretty one don’t fight, boys. don’t bruise ‘er up.”

- “on come on john, I can take it”

- he would just sigh. looking like he had no choice on the outside, but on the inside, this is exactly what he wanted

- “looks like I’ll have to handle this myself”. trying to hide his smirk as he steps onto the mat

- johnny and kyle just look at each other all bummed out

- simon’s watching from the sidelines, smiling underneath his mask. he can see exactly what his captain is aiming at

- any excuse to touch you, and touch you he did. from pining you down below him to the most intimate of positions. just how he likes it. he likes showing the boys you’re his as you lay underneath him, his hands holding your wrists above your head, his legs straddling your hips

- “feel good?” you tease

- “what do you say you meet me back at my quarters in five?” john says just loud enough for the boys to hear and immediately johnny is walking away scoffing, kyle plugging his ears and simon… well simon just keeps watching for now

- you smile up at your boyfriend. “you know, it’s a good thing they flirt with me, doesn’t make it obvious to the higher-ups that you’re dating your subordinate”

- “yeah, well, sometimes they need to be reminded whose the boss around here” john leans down to kiss you gently, mumbling on your lips

- “now get back to the bedroom or i’m sure simon will watch me take you on this mat”

[elexaria]

price is a good influence on the boys, always keeping them in line. its almost like theyre his boys, he doesn’t pass up the opportunity to talk about them with a proud growl in his voice. they dont know this, but he even has a tattered photo of the four of them in his wallet. he’s never settled down, never had kids, so even if theyre only around a decade younger than him, they’re like his own.

well, he’s almost always a good influence on the boys.

the new bit around the military campus, she’s a sight for sore eyes. the capt can’t help but clear his throat, one arm around her shoulder so casually. he’s a charmer, that’s for sure. “don’t let ‘em paw at you, yeah? you tell ‘ol pricey if these dogs bark at you, love, and i’ll let ‘em know who holds the reigns here.” he purrs in her ear, the rough timbre of his voice is enough to make anyone’s blood run hot.

the boys know better than to try and cuckhold price, after all, he’s kind enough to let them watch him as he flirts with the lil honey on base. their eyes watch keenly as he squeezes her arse as she passes by, a smug grin on his lips as she turns around with a playful gasp. he’ll turn his head, nodding with a grunt at the boys. “y’see that, lads? like putty in my hands, she is.” he remarks, and the boys guffaw like a group of schoolboys at how cool he is.

it gets even better when, after a year of casual dating, his lil lady agrees to let the boys in behind closed doors. “just let ‘em watch, yeah? poor boys dont get much action, it’s for morale i ‘spose. keeps ‘em fit and fired up.” he murmurs lowly in her ear, quiet enough only for her to hear. their dance is as old as time, his large hands dancing around her soft skin. her moans are like a siren’s call to the boys, it gets the hairs at the nape of their necks standing. hell, that’s not the only thing that stands to attention when price parts the glistening folds of her cunt, chuckling as he steps back to nod his head at the boys. “stunning, ‘ent she?” he growls out, a smug grin on his face as he leans on his side, dipping two fingers inside of her slowly while his thumb toys with her clit.

my god, you can HEAR the boy’s heavy breathing as they watch price toy with his girl, and johnny’s the first one to break the awkwardness by rubbing his erection through his jeans discreetly. price notices, and raises his eyebrows. “lads, the missus doesn’t mind if you rub one out. do you, sweetheart?” he coos as he crooks his fingers up inside of her, jamming the pads of his fingers up into the spongy spot where she likes it. she gasps, nodding as she looks over at how quickly the lads begin to unbuckle their belts, their cocks quickly springing up out of their confines. a symphony of grunts that harmoniously blend together with her gasps and mewls, and all are at the mercy of price. he continues to toy with her, to prolong her pleasure until, and it doesn’t take long, until the boys cum right then and there— thick ropes of cum spurting into their fists.

with a chuckle, price rises to sit on the bed, his hand now gently rubbing against her folds in a teasing manner. “right, bugger off you bunch of reprobates. give us some privacy, yeah?” he chuckles, motioning towards the door as they’re all quick to tuck their spent cocks in the waistbands of their boxers, quickly scampering off at the call of their captain.

the next morning, they’ll all sit round a small table, making comments about how good price is, how lucky they are to have seen that performance. “he deffo would let us shag her if we asked, ye ken.” johnny says quietly, leaning in close to the lads in a conspiratorial manner.

“johnny, stop thinking with your dick.” simon gruffly replies, shaking his head as to dismiss the silly notion.

“yeah, no way would he let us.” gaz agrees, a defeated sigh escaping his lips as he leans back in his seat. “she was fit, though.” he chuckles, rubbing his face as they all begin to impishly laugh at the memory.

[1117feverlessdreams]

Liquid Courage

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🌀 🍸SUMMARY: Working beside Mingi at a bar was always fun. The flirting, the jokes, and the teasing made work more enjoyable, until the connection became too intense to bear. The boss leaves you alone to close one night, and your coworker makes you a special refreshment with lots of (s)creams.

🌀 🍸 TAGS: Alcohol use, intoxication, cursing, explicit name-calling, use of babe and sugar. fingering, oral sex, nipple play, fluff, and protective intercourse.

🌀 🍸 WORD COUNT: 7.4k

🌀 🍸 A/N: I tried to depict Mingi in a way that was true to his personality. He is truly loved by everyone he meets and I wish he knew that!

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You jump in fright from the repeated eager shouting of your name. “Y/n! Mingi! I need the both you over here, pronto!” Naturally you were startled, but not all too surprised by your boss's authoritative tone.

“Sorry boss...”

It’s been an unfortunate occurrence that your attention has been highly selective all early noon. The behavior was oddly out of character for you, but very typical for your coworker.

The underlying truth of the matter is that you’ve come to your senses- you have an excruciating crush on your co-worker, Mingi.

It had only been one year since you landed the job at the bar, and things where going really well.

You just didn’t want to fuck it up by, you know... fucking.

You've both heard and seen how work “relationships” tend to end. Nine times out of ten, the outcomes aren’t that positive. If anything, it creates a toxic environment to both parties, and the working environment as a whole.

You place down the washcloth on the bar countertop to finish your insignificant task of drying off moisture from spilled drinks and the bottom of cold glasses.

It was a non-obvious call for distraction to escape the unbearable thoughts…given that the culprit for them is in your vicinity.

The spiky pink-haired charmer frees his grip on the countertop while a customer is speaking mid-order, signaling to them that he’d be right back with his pointer finger.

They wave him off politely to attend to his vital duties, but if he were you in that situation, you would have to be dealing with all kinds of bitching and moaning.But yet somehow, in some way, Mingi had the same effect on customers as he did to you.

Maybe it was the black and white suited uniform your boss made him wear for business. But for you it was the face card, his sterling silver jewelry, and hot pink taper haircut that was the most effective.

“Yo, boss!” Besides the shivers that trickle down your spine from his baritone vocals, his informal acknowledgement to your boss makes you cringe. The last thing you need is to be overstimulated by more of your bosses obnoxious yelling.

He approaches shortly right next to you to face your boss who stands near the exit.

With a tight-lipped smile, your boss inhales a deep breath as he tilts his head kindly toward you. An exhale follows when he turns it back toward the discourteous and taller man next to you. “You never fail to meet my expectations Mingi.”

With a light nod, Mingi remarks, “My pleasure boss man, no need for the formalities.” He then gives you a small elbow jab as he smiles in his egocentric joy.

“I'll have you know they aren’t positive…’boss boy’.”

The most awkward stare-off you’ve ever been in the middle of begins, given that your weren’t in very many.“Oh…” Mingi mumbles.

You spare a side glance to watch as his prominent chest sinks in, shooting his previous confidence to plummet to rock bottom. He catches you looking at him teasingly, shamefully averting his eyes from your warring grin.

"Oh is right. Now, as I was going to say...", your boss announces, "’I’ve been calling on the both of you so often this morning, and it’s because I’m going to have to leave you guys alone for closing tonight."

As if your heart wasn't drumming against your chest from standing next to your work crush, or being yelled at by your boss on an hourly basis, it kicks you in harder at an extraordinarily fast rate.

There was no way you could psychologically endure the rest of the night by being alone at Mingi’s side for several hours.

Your boss continues on to reveal, "I’ve gotta stay at home with the wife. There’s a huge chance of her going into labor at any time is what the doctor is saying.” You smile and nod from your coherent understanding of home, wife, doctor, and baby.

“That’s understandable boss, you comment sweetly, I hope she delivers safely, and that you both have a healthy child.”

Mingi nods in agreement, using the moment as a chance to extend out his large hand for your boss's to clasp, triggering the jingling of his chained ring. “You’re already the best father of the year my man!” It’s not as shocking when the jingling sounds once more as Mingi’s hand falls back down, sulking in the denial from your boss.

“I appreciate that Mingi…really.” A chain of keys is slid effortlessly out of your boss's Carhartt jacket pocket, then seamlessly thrown backward into your clutch. “Y/n, you’ll hold the keys, and you will be left responsible to assist in locking things down tonight.”

Mingi takes a step forward and gestures to himself with his hands and an offended face proclaims, “Yo- I mean, boss…what about me?I’m right here.”

“I see that.”, your boss sarcastically remarks.“Keep tabs on Y/n, and help her if she needs it.”Mingis facial expression is like a gaping fish’s mouth out of water, suffering and speechless.

With no remorse your boss turns the other direction. After a few steps he naturally opens the bar door to let a customer inside, displaying a storming parade of heavy rain.

“You’re lucky I don’t fire your ass Song, but you keep those customers flowing in like a frat boy chugging a keg tube!” The door jingles as he finally takes his leave right out the exit, closing you in with inescapable temptations.

“Idiot…, you whisper, “why do you have to be that way around him?”, you shake your head in disapproval to the upset and adorable duck faced man.

He whines childishly to your dismay. Without a choice in the matter, he walks behind you as you both make your way back to awaiting customers that are dinging the bell obnoxiously at the bar.

“What did I even say wrong?” Mingi approaches the customer whose order was inconveniently interrupted, and seated closely from your group intervention.

“Beats me.”, the customer says in between laughter.

...

Today was your first day working at the pub without a boss.

Unfortunately, today of all days- did they leave you alone to deal with drunk customers and your seemingly impossible- newfoundingly attractive, and sober coworker, Song Mingi.

When the evening begins to roll in leading to what might be a fateful night, things began to get a lot more hectic.

As per usual, there are the guys who come in after a bad day, a troubling situation, or a bad life. Mainly because of work or a partner they need to shake off. A drink or many was the anecdote to temporarily forget.

A customer attempts to sit on a bar stool as he tramples around it before managing to successfully put at least half his ass on it. "The music in here…”, he groans with both hands on his head, “it s-sucks man!"

Mingi approaches him with care and interest, but no regard for his behavior. It’s the same as he would treat any other customer.

"I’ve been telling the boss man to let me DJ y’know? But he likes to go on about what I play is too loud." Mingi then begins to mock your bosses voice in a fairly amusing attempt, using air quotes with his long fingers for emphasis. "Anyway, he isn’t here with us tonight…thank goodness.”

The last bit he says under his breath, but not anything you can’t hear from preparing drinks beside him while he takes orders.

“Oh! you mean-you mean that old dude?!” The drunken man says in realization as he lets out an ungraceful burp. "He doesn’t know anything about what’s hot in today’s music!” in a dramatic motion, he swirls his finger in the air and pointed directly at Mingi."Turn on that good shit pinky!”

After some pre-contemplated thought, Mingi gladly makes his way to the end of the bar, raising his hand to signal the DJ for the cue.

He’s quick to pull it down when he senses you approaching behind him, smiling timidly as he turns to face you. "Play something club worthy at least, that’s my only request." You shrug your shoulders and step aside from behind him, walking back toward the front end without a care.

"If only the boss heard that come from your mouth. He'd never believe me in a billion years.", he whispers.

Mingi does a few hand signals you couldn't effectively translate, but upon hearing the cue of “club-worthy music” play through the speakers, you realize the DJ perfectly understood.

The drunken man stands up quickly from the stool, utilizing the bar top for stability. It was when he moved away from the bar top that concerned you when he began to trip over his own feet again. For the upteenth time Mingi leans over the counter and grabs his fore arms to help him keep balance.

At times, he was sweet in that way.

The drunken man widely grins as he once again points at Mingi. "I like you, and-and I really like this alcohol.” He points up his finger twirling it around in the air as if he was casting a magic spell. “Give me a round of shots for this whole bar Pinky!"

A uproar of excitement from all across bar powers over the music. The man rises from his stool to cheer with them, uplifting his hands like he was given the role of a God.

‘Surely…,’ you thought, ‘after this night ends, that man will wake up in the early morning to dial the line of his bank. Considering the fact we’re getting busy as the hours tick by.’

…

Every workshift would be uneventful if your customers didn't come in variety packs.

There were the Cougars. Middle-aged women trying to keep up with the times, so time doesn't catch up with their age.

Said one of many women walks up to greet you both at the bar in a sultry walk. Possibly in hopes of causing a swarm of bees to get a taste of her special made honey.

The essence of Mingi captures her eye however, and she decides to sit in a stool that so happened to be free right in front of him.

Her tight leather leopard print pants stretches as she moves with every inch. She looks downward when seated to shimmy her gargantuan boobs on the counter while wearing a matching top that holds in the drooping.

As flamboyant as the cougars usually are, it was a necessity for her to top everything off with a long lion trench coat that she moves behind her to suit properly.

You continue making the drink for the rounded tables while Mingi deadpans at her in a standstill behind the counter, paying no mind to the display she's trying to showcase.

"You know"...she begins, squishing in her boobs with no need for adjustment, "I usually don’t go for just any young man… ‘specially the ones with pink hair", she adds. "But you might’ve just changed my mind hot stuff.”

Her hands smooth over her chest for another time, yet they travel inside the top she was wearing.

Out of it, she pulls out a thick wad of folded bills, racing her hand forward to Mingis front pocket. In the boldest way possible she grabs hold of his tie and inserts the cash and pats in securely in his chest. She even goes the extra step to tuck the tie back in, smoothing the now wrinkled material with her Y2K duck nails.

You’re stunned as you watch Mingi immediately take hold of her wrist decorated in a forearms full of pandora bracelets. “Let me change it again for you, sweet pea."

The nickname took the lady aback, as it did the same for you. If only it was directed at you, but in a different context, it makes any bad day better again.

“That guy right over there...”, he continues, pointing to one of the younger men that come in often- ‘a bad life’ you think. “he’s been wanting to buy you a drink ever since he got here.”

As she turns her head in the point of Mingi’s direction, he carefully releases go of her wrist carefully to not cause a mishap. “He’s kinda hot”, she says fanning herself with the loose hand, "Oh...but are you sure you won’t be upset sweetheart?”

Mingi lets out a light laugh, shaking his head no in the most nicest way possible. “Not at all pretty lady. I can’t interfere with potential love at first sight.”

She thinks for a moment and sighs when a decision was made. In moments she gets up from her stool to readjusts her previous adjustments. Pants, boobs, and the train of her fur coat.

For the first time she looks at you, and then Mingi again. In her mind you can tell she read over something in you that you couldn’t comprehend. But your instincts tells you, she knew something. “You’re a cute little fella. Keep that pink hair going, I just know somebody’s gonna love pulling that at night.”

Her smile grows wide as she waves in your direction, "Bye, honey. “I hope those drinks aren't the only thing you'll be mixin' up with tonight… if you know what I mean."

Oh, you knew.

You were nerve-wracked for Mingi to think the same with different feelings, unattracted ones. "Wow…and to think she isn't even drunk yet.", Mingi mutters as you both watch the pair initiate conversations.

“Was he really wanting to buy her a drink?”, you asked in curiosity.

“Nah, he’s been looking around for someone for the past half hour, and she obviously need some attention so…perfect match.”

"You are absurdly evil sir." You gaze at Mingi’s stark figure with his eyes trained on the new couple.

You take the time to admire his side profile, thinking about how his nose could fit into small spaces. Or how his lips could suck-

“I prefer to be called Cupid.” He turned his head to meet your hypnotic gaze, winking at you in surprise.

To your shock, and even Mingis, the next hour consisted of the couple grooving and grinding on the dance floor. Right after that skipped out in each others arm with a chime for the exit door.

“Cupid it is.”

“Ditto.”

…

The final boss, your mortal enemies, the hot girl groupies.

They always arrive together knit in arm, and they settle down at the front end rounded tables. In the midst of their original conversation they all catch a glance at the sexy bartender across the room.

Separately, one by one, they all come up to order drinks with an underlying mission to capture the thing inside Mingi’s pants. The success rate is usually zero.

A young woman, both your ages, walks up quick with confidence from her groups table. As much as you hate to admit, her white halter top and denim-distressed booty shorts could do a number on your chances.

What makes things worse is that at this time of night, the led pink lights come on. Which means the hues of Mingi’s spiky hair becomes more fluorescent than it is in the morning light. It brings on too much attention, and a great cause of more distraction from your duties.

As the cougar has done earlier, she leans over counter with to forge her boobs to the front of her chest. Except…she was a lot more obvious about her intentions.

She flicks her chin toward you, smacking her gum with a popping jaw. “She your girlfriend?”

Mingi looks back to see you flustered from the unwanted attention. You were supposed to make drinks and give it to him, to give to her. No where in that interaction were you supposed to be involved in any conversation besides complaints about the drinks.

He gives you an attractive smile with his full lips, tracking your face and body with his eyes. “Nah, she’d be lucky if she was though.” What kills you is that Mingi maintains the eye contact with you and not the girl. It pissed her off and you as well in a sense. Although on the inside did you feel so fucking confident.

Mingi’s way with words uplifted your self esteem from time to time. But damn was the girl in front of him furious, her self esteem was depleting, and so she had to resort in ringing the bell in desperation to redirect Mingis focus.

“Can I please get a strawberry lime margarita…and with a little sugar around the rim too, please? I like licking around the tip of it y’know?“ She traces the counter top in circles with the tip of her finger, flickering her tongue as she holds eye contact. “ It makes my tastebuds really happy…”

He repeats the order- the strawberry lime margarita with a sugar rimmed part. "Strawberry lime Margarita with a crystalized sugar rim.” He writes it down but doesn’t hand it to you like usual, instead he tells you to step aside so he can make it himself.

You could tell the hot girl loved that by the way she bit her lip while Mingi mixed things together. When he’s finished, he slides the drink onto the counter and directly in front of her chest. “Your drink that you ordered.”

Her focus doesn’t even land on the drink because she’s so caught up in his physique. "It looks perfect! Thank you, um…” she looks over his suit for a name tag to notice there wasn’t one. A open opportunity for what she’ll say next-“…what did you say your name was?”

"Well… I don’t recall you asking but-.” he leans over-the-counter, interlining his fingers on both of his hands as he looks her deep in eyes, “Mingi. If you must know."

The girl leans forward and cups Mingi by the chin, which he shows no discomfort in feeling. “You’d be lucky if I was your girlfriend, Mingi.”

“Oh yeah?…, He reaches up to pull her hand and hold it in his, pulling it toward his lips which you have to look away from to withhold any rotten jealousy. "Looks like I’ll be unlucky for the rest of my life then.”

You nearly twist your neck to see the baffled look on the woman’s face, she yanks her hand away and pulls her drink off the counter, spilling the slushy ice of the margarita on her sparkling white halter.

The girls from her table gasp as they watch the scene from afar, they all urge her to move to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

“Stupid jerk!” She says wailing, shivering as the blended ice falls onto her porcelain skin, making her top all red under the hot pink lighting. She looks at you as she speeds away to the bathroom and mutters, "What a waste."

It could've been the drink she spilled that made her say that, but eye contact conveyed her non-verbal message. The only problem is that you were there, and in the way. Perhaps she and Mingi might have had a chance without your presence as a scapegoat.

Mingi rises back up, straightening his broad back into place. As there were no other customers at the counter, he turned back to you and continued to give you that distinguished look as he leant back on the bartop. "I meant what I said about you though. Luck doesn't knock twice."

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

REWIND

Life had became so boring to you that you fix your attention on other people’s happiness instead of manifesting your own.

It was a never ending thought, one that you wanted to escape from for just a moment. Which in turn lead you to sit on some pubs bar stool.

You watch the bartender come from the back with blinding hot pink hair, as much as that set him apart, you recognize the personality of his character. He was unapologetically himself and so helpful at the same time.

His hand was so fluid with every drink he mixed and poured over into the glass cups. Not to mention, he looked delicious in the pink lighting and his semi-formal undersuit.

After minutes of patiently waiting in your stool with no rushed timing, it lets you feen more to linger at his stature until he struts quickly to your stool.

“How ya doin today babe?”He arrives with a pen and pad, prepared to write down the contents of your order.

“Life could be better”, you reply nonchalantly with shrugged shoulders, “I suppose that’s why I’m here.”

He leans in to be more attentive, weighing his palm on the bar’s countertop with furrowed brows which were a lighter pink. “Well I hope that at least for the time you’re here, I can make it better.”

You blush as you fight off a geeky smile from taking up the entirety of your face. “I hope so too.”

You weren’t looking at him, but he let a smile just as big reveal on his own. He was so fawn that someone as pretty as you blushed because of him.

“Well, It’s a Thirsty Thursday and our special is an island vibe. It’s a blue sugar rock sour cocktail with vanilla whip shots.” He pulls out a menu from his so side to push it in front of your sulken body. “If that's not something that gives your interest a peak, then what can I get for you to drink?”

You've heard him reuse the line with multiple customers which made it easier to decide if you want the drink or put in a different order. As next in line you had your mind made up, but his presence and being the current customer has you contemplating your decisions again.

"I don't know what I want, what do you have please?"

He blinks at the menu and looks reluctantly behind him at the array of alcoholic drinks and mixers on the shelf. Then pointing to the tap on the bar. "Well what do you like doll face? I'll make you anything you ask me to babe."

The intimate nickname alters the nerves in your brain to make a unanimous decision, but at least you know what you don’t want. "I don't need anything strong because I need the energy. I prefer any of sweet drinks you have.”

“Oh I see.”, he says nodding slowly, likely because he’s encountered your type before. “How does something like a pina colada, a Mai tai, or a strawberry daiquiri sound for you babe?”

More decision making. The thing in your life that hasn’t exactly been your forte. You sigh, covering your stupidity with a small smile. “Can I just get all 3?"

“Damn…”, he trails off, scratching the back of his head which in result creates more spikes. “That is a lot of energy…but I got you babe, coming right up.”

“Yeah it's just that type of night, I guess”, you mumble, mainly to yourself. He leaves to pull on a pair of black gloves. He begins walking away to make your drinks but you stop him in his tracks.

He turns his head swiftly and walks backward to lean in with a close ear. You grow flustered at such a caring action, whispering your additional request. “Can I also get that special too please?” “Sorry…”

"Of course!” He says with a polite grin, “anything to make your night a little bit sweeter.” His piercing eyes leaves yours with two taps of his fingers on the bars top to go make all four drinks.

He later sets out a platter for your drinks and describes the flavors and mixes, even though you've seen every step with your never ending stare, but how good did it feel just to hear him talk.

“Thank you, they all look so pretty.”

He shrugs in shoulders lightly from the slight embarrassment that stems from your compliment. “I just wanted to see your eyes brighten up and that genuine smile, you look so upset coming in here.”

Your act was tucked behind the curtains as soon as he brought your true emotions into the light. “I was. But I’m better now because of you, thank you.” You lift up the specialty drink, offering the sweet cotton candy haired bartender a cheers.

He reveals a wide tooth smile, one that you found adoring to compliment his handsome nature. “No problem. It’s what I aim to do.” He waves you off as he walks away to assist other customers. Later that night he comes back to wipe down the countertops, finishing last next to you.

You let out a deep, heavy breath and his attention was focused on your contentment from how good the drinks were. The room around you feels fuzzy as you began to grow tipsy, smiling like a maniac with whip cream and sugar on your lips.

“Did that hit the spot?,” he asks with a cute giggle.

“Hellllll yeah.” It was obvious the drinks had an instant effect, considering you chugged them all within a fifteen minute period.

In between shakes of the towel and drying his hands, he giggles once more as his eyes scans over your face. “Speaking of spots…you do got a little something right here.” He uses his thumb to swipe his own lips, explaining where he sees it on yours.

You mimic him, scooping bits on your fingers and licking the clean with your tongue. “Is it gone?”, you slur in a whine, growing sad to think you looked silly in the vulnerable state you were in.

He chuckles and shakes his head know as he points out more residue using himself as reference. “No sweetheart, here too.”

“Am I good now?”

It’s not gone, and he knows it, smiling goofily. “Looking sweet sugar.”

You smile with closed eyes likely because you’re so relaxed from the chilled drinks. You open your eyes in awe to the upbeat scenery and meet the bartenders eyes again, seeing he was already staring at you. “Are you guys hiring by any chance?”

“Yeah! We could definitely use another bartender, but the boss man is picky. Were you thinking about joining the crew?”

“If that’s okay with your boss then sure”, you shrug.

“I can make it okay.” He drags his hand from the bar top and holds up his hand to signal for you to hold tight. I’ll be right back sugar.” You watch him disappear to the back. Before you didn’t recognize it, but you feel yourself sadden again as you realize he was actually nice company.

A man, shorter and yet broader emerged from the back rooms. He surveyed the area until he spots you, pausing like he found what he was watching for.

“Are you this young lady I’m hearing great things about from this boy?” You nearly choke as you began to sober up, recollecting all sense of intellect you’ve lost from four alcoholic drinks.

“That I am.” You state enthusiastically while clearing your throat. How do I have the pleasure of knowing you?”

“I own the place, and I heard you were interested in the bartenders position.” You gape subtly at Mingi who stands behind one the wall, prompting you a supportive thumbs up.

“Oh y-yeah absolutely. I’m new in town and I’m looking for a fresh start. Hopefully at a fine working establishment like yours.”

“You got experience as a bartender?”

“Uh… “Mingis encourages you to continue with beckoning hands, then hiding behind the wall when his boss takes a look back to what you seem so lost in. “No, I do not.”

“So then, do you want to learn?”

You shake your head affirmatively without a thought. “Yes, of course! If I was given the opportunity.”

The muscle headed man ponders your interview like exchange. He walks away to the back once more before coming out with a feminine version of the bartenders uniform. “Come back here tomorrow at the same time you came in today, and with this uniform on.”

“Oh, thank you so much!”

“You’re not hired yet dollface.”

You wipe the smile clean off your face and nod like you have a great understanding of what you are exactly. “Right.”

The boss walks away once again to the back and Mingis cross paths naturally to meet you back at the counter. “Don’t worry, you are 100% hired.”

You cock your head to the side, blinking at a rapid pace to organize the thoughts in your mixed up mind. “But he literally just said I wasn’t?”

“He never hands out a uniform to just anyone babe. Then he told you to come back the very next day? He sees potential inside of you.”

You marvel in his excitement for you. It was like he pleaded for you to to be given the chance. “It’s all because of you, I cant thank you enough.”

“I’ll accept you coming in tommorow as a good enough thank you. Don’t let me down sugar.”

The next night you came in at the exact same time, with your formal button up blouse and trousers. You got to stand next to Mingi behind the counter as he gave you hands on training experience.

Even thought you were nearly drunk, you were lucky to land the job so easily. With the spontaneous opportunity you hoped to get closer to where you wanted to be.

Although meeting Song Mingi already led you off to a great start.

...

“Mingi get down before you buss that dense head open! I just wiped the damn counter down.”

You thought after that all the chaos and havoc would be gone after closing, but now and still is your coworker acting worse than all of the absurd customers put together.

He was standing on the countertop and jerking out pelvic thrust in mid air with a bitten lip.

“Mingi!”, you shout. He seemed to had finally get the hint as he climbed down. But he still remained on the countertop sitting with his legs over the edge.

“Sugar. Babe. It’s a Saturday night and we are the only ones here.” He holds onto your shoulders gently and peers into your eyes, stopping you from the unnecessary cleaning of already clean surfaces. “We can do whatever we want. You know that right?”

You peer back at him, nearly hypnotized to agree to every word that left his mouth. “Yeah sure. You mean you can do whatever you want, and I take the fall for it?”

You shrug his grip from you shoulders and step back with the towel in hand. “Okayyy, I get that boss man left you in charge. But we work at a bar that also has an entire kitchen behind it, and a freaking dance floor.”

Mingi gets down completely to stand closer in front of you peering down into your eyes once again. “I mean cmon, if i was in charge-“

“In which, thank goodness you’re not.”

He deadpans as you cut him off, but remains relentless in his persuasion. “Don’t you wanna let loose a little bit babe? “I mean, while we still have the chance.”

It was a exciting thought, to ‘let loose a little bit’, and you know how Mingi is always the life to a dead party, even when it was just you two.

With his charm you are coerced to give up and throw your hands on the air without any cares to give. “Fuck it.” Mingi cheers and jumps like he’s on trampoline with no control. “But, stop doing that! And because this is your idea, I’m not cleaning up after, deal?”

Mingi chuckles and stops immediately but proceed into a small harmless dance. “Yeah sure, no biggie. He waves your condition off blatantly as you try your best to master a stare that was intimidating, but you honestly didn’t have it in you. It’s party time sugar, Woohoo!”

Mingi swings an imaginary cowboy lasso in the air, turning his back to presumably wander to the kitchen to grab a few things.

“Here’s some of the hard stuff, and I know you might not want to drink it because of your sweet tooth. But I think it’s time you could stop being a baby, and party like an adult tonight.”

You spot the array of said hard drinks, none you see are keen to your liking. “I only drink the sweet stuff because it doesn’t hit as hard. Three shots of whiskey and I’ll start having out of body experiences.”

“That’s why you have to balance it, sugar lips.” He places a shot glass down. “One shot,” and with the other hand another glass. “One water.”

MANY SHOTS AND MANY WATERS LATER…

“I’m gonna throw up. I’ll be back, I’m going to the ladies room.” After some much-needed relief, you come back to the front of the bar soured by a special aroma.

You were going to ask Mingi what the smell was until you saw him and began to connect the dots.

“You perve! Don’t just stand there looking at me!” Your pervertedness came into play by staring at Mingi placing pepperonis over his shirt where his nipples are.

You shake your head and sit at the stool across from where he stood behind the counter. “Why would I bother looking at you, you’re a walking man child.”

“My mom thinks it funny…” He walks to the back counter to grab a round tray and settles it down between the both of you at the front counter. “Care for some pizza? It’s fresh.”

You’re quick to grab a piece, you could eat anything to fulfill your empty stomach. “Holy shit that’s hot!”, you flick your tongue, tumbling the burning ingredients in your mouth.

Mingi pays no mind as he’s busy swirling his tongue out for cheese, wrapping the muscle around the lengthy pull.

You watch him tentatively with his flexible he could move the muscle, another dangerous cause for distraction.“You’re still an idiot, even when drunk.”

He takes the first bite of his slice aas he bends his head downward to look at you fanning your burnt tongue. “Who says I’m drunk?”

You place your slice down on the tray, waving your finger to Mingi. “Noooo, you’re definitely…drunk.” , you slur.

He giggles and adore you as you try and eat more slices. “Alright sugar, let’s take a break.” He fills another glass of water and brings it out from behind the counter with him for you. “Let’s dance.”

Mingi placed on some music from your boss’s jukebox given that the DJ left and packed up not long after closing. Assumingly for another gig.

He walks toward you and gently grabs your wrist. It was the most softened touch ever, but your tipsyness overrides your sensory abilities and you yank away from his hand. “Give me a second dude! Don’t you ever get tired?”

He doesn’t take you seriously but he backs off in respect. “Party doesn’t stop until you drop babe.”

You fully turn around in the stool, reassuring him that you didn’t need any help until your nearly fall flat on your face. Fortunately, with Mingis quick reflexes, he could both catch the glass of water and you before breaking yourselves on the marble-wooden floors.

As soon as you reached the dance floor Mingi handed the drink of water onto you and undressed into his button up with a few tabs unbuttoned.

The most random of songs began to play out of your bosses jukebox. A Spanish song with bongos, maracas, and horns began to sound on the overhead and controls the groove of Mingis body.

“Cmonnnn, stop it! You look ridiculous.”

He looked anything but. He dances in salsa, pacing his feet forward and backward as his shirt exposes a bit more of his chest.“We’re the only ones here! ‘Sides, I know you like what you see…” ,he licks the side of his mouth, doing a spin as he pokes out his butt in your direction.

You couldn’t help but spare the slightest glance, but he didn’t get the pleasure of seeing it. “I already told you what I see when I look at you.”

“Yeah, when I had pepperoni nipples! Now you get to see the real things.” He does another spin move that allowed him to take off his shoes smoothly. He cha-chas while backing away, beckoning you to follow him with his two fingers.

It looked as if something else was conjuring as you gained in proximity, like he was alluring you into an inescapable trance.

“Ugh…get a grip, I’m not gonna keep chasing you.”

Your wrist is indeed gripped by him. In a pose of salsa duo, he pulls you tightly into his chest. “Gotcha.”

You were spunned, twirled, and even tossed in the air before you finally grew tired and Mingi decided to go solo. You got a hold of that much needed water and nearly downed it in one go.

You were gonna go back in for the remaining bit until you saw Mingi thrusting wildly and a wicked idea crossed your mind. In a playful manner you began to hype him up and you almost felt guilty for what you were about to do when you saw his gorgeous smile. But you do it anyway, and you’d do it again if you could see his soaking wet man tiddies.

He freezes in surprise, mouth agape as he looks down at his own body.“What you do that for?”

“Well I didn’t have any money…I was just cheering you on.”

Mingi scoffs, not believing a word you said to be reasonable. “Fine then. It’s your turn. He steps away to bask in the embarrassment you might feel in your performance. But inconsistently for him you were boosted by liquid courage. “That way it’s fair and square.”

“Whatever…deal.”

For your performance you wanted to convey a different vibe. To go through the list of songs, selecting Britney Spears, “I’m a Slave 4 u” as your pick.

You sway you hips side to side as you get in the rhythm, snapping your fingers along to the kickbacked drums.

♫ I know I may come off quiet, may come off shy.

But I feel like talking feel like dancing when I see this guy. ♫

During the lyrics you pull Mingi off from off the wall, and onto the VIP sections couch.

♫ What’s practical? What’s logical? What the hell who cares?

All I know is I’m so happy when you’re dancing there. ♫

Your arms wrap behind Mingis neck, and you boldly climb onto the couch with your knees on the side of his thunder thighs.

♫Baby, don’t you wanna…dance upon me? To another time and place.

Oh baby, don’t you wanna…dance upon me. Leave behind my name and age. ♫

You roll your hips mid air above his private to withhold any boundaries, feeling on his upper body in drunk fun while he stretches his arm on top of the furniture to watch the show in relaxation.

“I bet those dumb girls couldn’t give it to you like this right? Offering their bodies to you for you to please and nothing else. Selfish bitches.”

Mingi cocks his head in amusement. From the beginning to now you’ve been full of surprises.“Sugar…are you jealous baby?”

You sigh and pause as the song continues to maintain its sensual stance. “Yeah, so what? How would you feel if I had almost every single guy that came in here wanting to screw me?

You smooth your hand over his upper body once again, playing timidly with the flaps of his button up. “You probably think you could do so much better than them huh?”

He smirks with his quirked plush pink lips. “I know I can. But I can show you better than I can tell you pretty. Can you do better than those women say they can?”

You reflect his same expression, adding a quirked brow for a challenge. “I can show you better than I can tell you pinky.”

You lower yourself to move in closer to his lips, and you both meet each other half way, kissing personally in harmony.

In nervousness you pull away, contemplating the rushed fuse of your actions. “I didn’t, I don’t know if-“

“It’s okay sugar.” He smooths a hand delicately over your head. “I want you to show me. If you want to…can you show me? Please?”

You nod, advancing to your next move of running your hand between his chest and unbutton his shirt. At the last button you free it open revealing his slim waist, your relentless temptations enables you to feel it tense at your gentle touch.

You peer at him through doll eyes, growing shy from the intensive heat of the moment. “How far do you want this to go?”

He cocks his head while biting his lip, bringing up his fingers to lift up your chin. “I think I recall a little birdie saying they hope drinks weren’t the only thing you were mixing up with tonight.”

“Mmmm.” you hum playfully. “I also think the little birdie said someone would love pulling this at night too.” You run your fingers through his soft scalp, sticking up the colored short hairs.

“And an early bird…” he shifts his bulge up against your core, “gets the worm.”

A surge in your body makes you reckless in ripping off his pants, and he does a master job of taking them off his ankles with his feet which you fairly helped with.

You sat up to grow rid of your clothes, sunken to your knees when you were skin and bare.

He was already up and rock hard, but to see you gawking at the size of him and it nearly covering the entirety of your face made him impossibly harder. You take him in immediately pulsing at the base of him.

He groans at your teasing, lifting your head up to bob it downward. You look in between your eyelashes as you swallow him with a stretched mouth. His head was tilted back as his mouth outputs pleasured whining. You squeeze onto his meaty thighs when he began to twitch. You were gonna take him there to his climax, but he stopped you in advance.

“I have condoms in my pockets. Inside you is where I want to be.”

You smile and cupped his face before giving him a chaste kiss. You reach down to grab his discarded pants and dig through his pocket to find the condom. Never had you have a partner that wore the greatest size. You thought it might’ve popped off given how large he truly was.

You waste no time climbing on top of him and directing the tip of him on the inside.

You both moan in unison with Mingis arms splayed on the couch, and yours in his shoulders for support. The muscles of his hips buck you upward and shaking in mid air.

He groans as he cheers your bouncing on with slaps to your ass. He cradles your boob in his large hand hook his mouth onto your nipple, blowing it softly to watch it erect. You feel them harden and soften with every suck and blow. It felt so good that is was painful.

With every deep thrust you both grew closer to climax with the slick stimulation. Mingi came as he whines from the surging shockwave, his thrusting comes to a slow with the will to get you in the same place. He pulls out, making the cum filled at the top of the rubber visible.

You fall over on his shoulder as he carefully flips you over. He spreads you open to access you inner flesh to slip in his chained ringed finger, and slurp up your clitoris like a rabid dog.

It only takes a matter of minutes to have you convulsing and pulling at his sweaty strands. Mingi slams your body back onto the cushion with no urge to stop until he feels you on his fingers and tongue.

“That’s right sugar. Give me all the sweetness you’ve got. Cum for me babe.”

A squelching noise indicates your means of arrival. Mingi releases you and removes his mouth. His chained ringed finger follows afterward, a string of your slick drags along your spongy walls.

Mingi marvels at the sight as he turns his hand, smiling wide as you look at him with low lids in effect of your orgasm. “I know you said for me to clean up afterwards… but I say we both made a mess no?”

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

Thank you for reading.

Much love,

xoxo

[ivybucky]

First Time - b.b. x gn!reader

Summary: You have a habit of calling people by cute nicknames or monikers, and Bucky isn't sure why it made him feel so good.

a/n: I'm breaking my hiatus finally!!! this is just a cute lil fic somewhat based on first time by hozier without the thought-provoking underlying angst. 1.9k

Content/Warnings: tfaws!Bucky, fluff, pining, tfaws fight scenes, zemo mention, multiple Sam appearances, references to fights/violence, use of y/n, use of the nickname doll when referring to the reader, friends to lovers? (let me know if i'm forgetting anything)

Masterlist

Believe it or not, Bucky Barnes tried to not think about his past. 

Though his efforts to make amends were a work-in-progress, and his name was brought up in the press more often than he preferred, Bucky Barnes tried to think about his past as little as possible. 

The first time you called him James was the first time he had liked the way it sounded. You had smiled at him, sweet and welcoming, as Sam introduced the two of you.

“It’s nice to meet you, James.” God, did it fall off your tongue in the nicest way. “Thank you for looking after birdbrain over here.” You giggled at Sam’s distant-sounding protest.

Bucky cracked a sideways smile, not being able to stop himself. “You can call me Bucky, doll.”

Your smile morphed into a sort of smirk, cheeks warming at the nickname he gave you. “Is that what you prefer?”

He hadn’t given it much thought anymore. He knew James as the person who enlisted in the military, the person who fell from the train following Captain America into the throws of war. James was the person who was Hydra’s plaything, the assassin, the monster he was so desperate to forget. Bucky was the charmer, the best friend of Steve Rogers, the swing dancer who had a habit of punching bullies(justified obviously). 

Now, he didn’t feel like either. Going by Bucky was the easiest option, since it was the part of him he was desperate to gain back. Talking to you however, he didn’t think he cared what he was called anymore. 

He gave you a soft grin, one that may have held a bit more meaning than flirtation. “I don’t mind either, you can call me whatever you want.”

—

The first time you called him by any kind of nickname was the day they went to Madripoor.

“Sammy! Buck!” You called their names as you waved big at them from the small airport hangar. 

Bucky tried to slow his heart as the pair walked closer to you. Sam let out a chuckle next to him, a teasing smile thrown his way. “Hope you don’t mind the extra company, Buck.”

With a frown and a grumble, Bucky widened his gait, the toe of his shoe catching on Sam’s, causing him to trip up momentarily. “Don’t call me that.”

He reached you first, allowing his smile wider further than before. “Hi Y/N, what’re you doin’ here?”

You placed a gentle hand on his left shoulder, rubbing back and forth. “It’s good to see you too,” you chuckled. “Sam told me what you guys are doing with Zemo. He thought I might be able to provide some kind of help, right Sam?”

Sam walked up with somehow both a smirk and scowl on his face and pulled you into a quick hug. “That’s right, though I might’ve invited you along so that I’m not the only one putting up with his old ass.”

Bucky scoffed, trying to ignore the lack of warmth from your otherwise occupied hands. “Are you sure about this, doll? This is probably gonna end with all of us on a watch list.”

You nudged his shoulder, your own smirk gracing your features. “As if I wasn’t on one already.”

The boys both chuckled, before Sam spoke up. “Speaking of watchlists, he’s here.”

Boarding the private jet that Zemo just happened to have, Bucky tried to keep his eyes on you the whole time, even as you sat in the leather seat between him and the window. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just fascinated by this - I don’t know what to call it,” your brows furrowed at the sentence, at the faint smirk that rested on Zemo’s face. “But this part seems important. Who is Nakajima?”

Bucky was out of his seat in an instant, metal fingers gripped tightly around his throat. Zemo’s face wiped itself of any amusement. Bucky spoke into his ear low and gruff, but it could easily be heard throughout the plane cabin. “You touch that again and I’ll kill you.” 

He snatched the notebook back into his and heavily sat back down into his seat, hand wound tight around the small journal

Your fingers reached across his lap and wrapped around his clenched metal fist, thumb rubbing soothingly over the back of his hand. “Just ignore him, sweetheart. You and I both know nothing that man says is worth anything.” 

Bucky looked down at your joined hands, then glanced up at you with a small smile. He gave your hand a couple of squeezes, and tried to focus back on the words being said throughout the rest of the plane ride. 

—

The first time you called him “baby” was during their fight with John Walker. 

Madripoor and Latvia had been filled with silent stares, small smiles, and soft words . Fleeting “friendly” touches ensued as well - Bucky’s hand on your back drawing small circles, your gentle grasp of his hand or arm when he clenched his fist.

Bucky talked to you about Yori, about his too soft mattress, about his too shitty of a therapist, his want to get a cat. You told him about meeting Sam, your agency background, your agreement that he should totally get a cat. And now, you just wished you could have that again.

Walker was too strong, landing solid hits on both Sam and Bucky that could easily start slowing them down. He had lifted the shield over their bodies too many times, clearly holding on to the same psychotic fury he had when he killed the Flagsmasher.

To this point, you stood frozen in watch. You weren’t there when the fight started, and between Sam and John’s current focus on Bucky, you weren’t sure which side needed the most aid.

John had flung Bucky into a nearby metal utility pole for Christ’s sake, and a cry wretched itself from your lips. You ran to his side as he laid on the ground unconscious, metal arm cackling with untamed electricity. 

“Bucky,” you murmured as you checked his spine for any breaks. You could hear his breath, as shuddered as it was after an impact like that. You moved him to lay on his back, palm pressed to his cheek. “Bucky, honey, come on, wake up.”

You tapped his cheek a couple of times in slight panic, other hand unconsciously combing his hair back. A couple of moments passed before he groaned and huffed out a cough. “Bucky,” you sighed a breath of relief, eyes near tearing up as the tension left your body. “Are you hurt, baby?”

He sat up with a grimace, another groan leaving his lips. “What the fuck?”

“He took the serum,” your hands had yet to leave his face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He looked up at you with a wincing smile, still bright enough to make your heart stutter. “I’m okay, sweetheart.” The red gracing your cheeks could be easily based on the intensity of the fight, but it was unsaid knowledge that wasn’t the case. He touched the hand holding his cheek as you swept a thumb back and forth. A grunt from the fight crashed them both back to reality. “He’s gonna kill Sam.”

You stood up, pulling him with you by his metal arm. Bucky swung his arm around to recalibrate before jogging forward. “We gotta get the shield. Be careful, don’t let him pin you.”

____

The first time you kissed him was in Louisiana. 

You giggled from the picnic table as you watched Bucky dodge Sam’s nephews, cake in hand, as they tried to tackle him for his arm, as well as when several of the children pleading to hang off of it.

He sat next to you on the bench of the table, shoulder pressing into yours as you basked in Sam and Sarah’s storytelling. Bucky shared some bittersweet stories about Steve, drawing smiles from everyone listening. Each laugh had you leaning into him a bit more, but a complaint could not be heard, especially when your hands brushed under the table.

The evening continued on like that into the early night. Bucky entertained the masses, looking a lot like the charmer he used to be. Sam reminisced with his community, taking many photos with his local family. 

You sat on the pier, leaning back against the wooden bench as the sun set over the water’s horizon. You could faintly hear laughter behind you on the dock mixed with the sound of the stereo’s music drifting over. A smile grew on your face as a presence made its way towards you, shoes scuffing against the wooden slats. A soft hand rested on your shoulder and sent warmth through your body. “Care for some company, doll?”

You flashed Bucky a smile that had him weak as you turned back to him and patted the space next to him. He sat down close, thigh pressed against yours, shoulder to shoulder yet again. 

“What’re you gonna do now, Buck? You think you’re gonna stick around?” 

He sighed, staring down at his metal hand in contempt. “I don’t know,” his hand clenched in his lap. “I’ve been following orders for a long time now. Might be good for me to work with someone, not for. Even if birdbrain has a habit of getting on my nerves.”

You reached across his lap and gently unfurled his fingers. He wished the pressure he felt against the metal was more tangible for once, more definitive. “You should do whatever makes you feel the most free, sweetheart.” You slipped both of your hands around his, rubbing small circles with your thumb. “Whether that be with Sam or doing something else. You deserve it.”

Bucky’s eyes drifted over your face and observed its features - the small smile that curled around your lips, the kindness in your eyes. “And what about you?” he spoke softly. “Will you stay?”

You looked up to him and searched his eyes with a hopeful grin. “Are you asking?” you chuckled, using one of your hands to comb his hair back behind his ear, thumb resting on his cheek. “If I’m needed, I’ll stay.”

Bucky puffed out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. “Well ya know,” he threw a bright smile in your direction. “Sam’s gonna need you here so he doesn’t lose his mind.”

You chuckled, leaning a little bit closer.  “And you? Do you need me?”

Bucky took in the space between you, the way your breaths mingled, foreheads near touching. “Yeah, baby,” he allowed himself to fully lean in. “I need you.”

You kissing him was like coming up for air, or finding water in the middle of the desert. It was salvation, it was required for him to have in order to survive. Your lips were soft, tasting faintly of the beer you had earlier. His mouth moved against yours like a magnet following them wherever they went. His hand drifted to your waist, moving you somewhat into his lap as you both smiled into the kiss. When you finally broke apart, it was only for the need for oxygen to fill your lungs. 

You giggled from above him, heads pressed together. Your hands locked themselves around his shoulders in an embrace that forced him to stay where he could feel the pant of your breath across his skin, not that he was complaining. “I guess I’ll stay then.”

Please reblog and comment! It's my first fic in *two fucking years* and i need to know that this is still good lol

[darlingbabyboo]

"What's wrong with me?"

♡ Luffy doesn't understand why the sight of you with Ace makes something ignite in him ♡

Reader is described as a girl and shorter then Luffy and Ace. Also, suspend your disbelief, timeline is not at all canon compliant. Also also, not edited in the slightest :)

Ace is being introduced and everything and Luffy is so happy

He loves his brother so much and seeing him is a dream

He's a natural charmer too, the entire crew is smitten with him

And some might be a bit too smitten with him

So rewind a bit, what exactly is your relationship with Luffy?

You're a really valuable member of the crew Luffy values you an extra lot

Since Luffy doesn't have a subtle bone in his entire body literally everyone knows that he's in love with you

Everyone except for you

Luffy might be the most obvious motherfucker but you're the most oblivious motherfucker

Match made in heaven

The crew is sick of your shit

But it's all going to be over soon thanks to a certain flame boi

Going back to Ace

When you saw Ace, your jaw dropped (and honey, who can blame you?)

And when Ace saw you, he was equally impressed because you're also quite a beauty

"I-it's so nice to see you." You can't help but stammer when you see Luffy's older brother. He's so- attractive!

"I should be saying that to you." He gives you an awards-winning smile and you try not to faint. "I love your curls."

You try to compose yourself as he leans in closer, your foreheads brushing against each other. You think- he's trying to break you. And lo and behold, his next words makes your heart skip a beat.

"I've certainly never seen such a beauty in all of the seas."

You can't handle it, your legs start to tremble, you're definitely going to fall over. You can feel yourself going...

Until, Ace wraps his arms around your waist to stop you

The crew watches the scene with a bit of amusement at the lovey-dovey scene

Luffy's not as impressed

"Ace! Let me show you around the ship." In the middle of you, pushing both of you apart (using a bit of his devil fruit to make sure that you guys stay far away from each others)

You pout, upset that your moment has been interrupted

Ace is equally disappointed

And Luffy is now filled with determination to make sure both of you never talk to each other again

"Hey, gorgeous, wanna night watch together? The stars are almost as beautiful as you."

"Oh, well-"

"She's going to be too busy!" Luffy pops in, out of nowhere. Not even remotely near you when the conversation was happening. Lying through his rubber skin because you have fucking nothing to do.

That's how all your interactions with Ace go on for the entirety of his stay

"Gorgeous, wanna walk around the island a bit?"

"That'd be great! I just need to-"

"Too bad that she's helping Sanji search for food!"

"What? No, I'll be fine. You can go with Ace if you want." Sanji doesn't want to be dragged into the weird love triangle with Luffy and his brother.

Luffy, in a shocking display, glares at Sanji and stretches to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into him. He nozzles into you, despite your gasp at the quick motion, "she'll be with me and Usopp, so she can't come with you." He sticks his tongue out at Ace as an extra measure, though his older brother only gives a playful smile.

The crew also has their own playful smiles

Luffy is experiencing jealousy so badly and him talking about his feelings is such a laugh

He tries to talk to you but he's horrible at talking about his feelings and also has such a soft spot for you that he's not match for it

"I didn't think that your brother was like that." You swoon. Luffy wonders if he's imaging hearts in your eyes. Why do you have those. Ace is cool but not that cool.

"I didn't think you would react like that." He huffs out, "I don't even know why you're talking to him this much, he likes you too much."

You laugh, thinking he's just being silly possessive like he is over the rest of the crew. "He's just being friendly. Nothing wrong with that."

"I think there's a lot wrong with that." He insists, a prominent pout on his face and arms crossed.

"Luffy, it's not a big deal."

"Yeah, well..." He trails off when you tilt up and place your hands on his cheeks.

"It's fine Luffy, don't worry." You smile up at him.

A strange feeling swarms in him. Is he hungry right now? All he knows is that he wants your smile aimed at him forever.

When Ace is about to leave, Luffy is practically dragging him away.

He loves his brother, he does, truly

Just doesn't like the chemistry that he has with you

"I'll miss you, beautiful." Ace offers you a charming smile and you bite your bottom lip, giving him a bashful look.

"O-oh, th-thank-"

"Okay, bye Ace, won't see you for a long time!"

He pushes Ace onto his boat, the crew watching in amusement and Ace laughing the entire time.

"Now you can spend more time with me again!" He wraps his arms around you, you giggle at him.

"Sure Luffy- and there's no need to be jealous- out of the two of you, you're my favourite!"

Oh, maybe you weren't that oblivious after all.

Luffy's smile widens when he hears that, hugging you tighter.

No matter what jealousies, you two will always be each others favourites ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

[reallyromealone]

Sebastian michaelis x demon/vampire butler reader? Omegaverse perhaps?

Title: a bit bitey

Fandom:black butler

Characters: Ciel, Sebastian

Fic type: fluff, omegaverse, suggestive content

Pairings:

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, fluff, suggestive themes, vampire reader

Notes: IM BAAAAAACK >:)

Summary: Reader is a vampire who drinks the blood of alphas who fall for his charms and gets mistaken for Jack the Ripper and gets chased by Sebastian and offered a position be can't refuse

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

It was said that when a demon bedded a witch that it would create something truly unholy that would walk the earth craving human flesh, unable to touch the sun.

It's why (name) found his home in London, a lovely home with his centuries accumulated wealth and all his trinkets over the years scattered around, like a museum of his immortality.

"I was so hungry..." (Name) Sighed, the Omega watching as the man dropped to the ground, body drained of all blood and (name) licked his lips, a bit of blood on his top lip. A sense of euphoria washed over the Omega who let out a sigh before stepping over the dead alpha, seeing a wanted poster for Jack the Ripper, whoever that guy was sure made feedings easy...

It was the dead of night, no one really in the streets and the oil lamps lighting his path home, a pep in his step and soft humming could be heard.

He was always so happy after a good feeding.

"There he is! Sebastian, get him!" A child's voice could be heard and (name) turned to lock eyes with a deep red pair... A demon.

(Name) Immediately bolted, the young blue eyed boy going into his carriage to wait while his demon stalked down the street.

Running through alleyways and corners, (name) was thankful for his speed and lack of footsteps, slipping into his bedroom door and closing it with a sigh.

Safe.

"Fu--" (name) was pinned to the ground by the black haired alpha, arms pinned to his side "you know, people would typically take one on a romantic stroll or maybe a dinner before doing something like this" (name) snarled at the alpha who wasn't even remotely phased "you have been causing problems..." Sebastian said casually, eyeing the Omega who huffed "I'm simply having dinner" (name) didn't particularly care for the humans, really seeing them as food "you killed five prostitutes"

Huh?

"My apologies but I don't pursue other omegas" (name) said simply "I pursue alphas, they're easier" Sebastian stared him down, looking for any trade if a lie but when he found nothing he let go of his wrists but stayed on the vampires hips "is there anything else I can assist you with Sbeastian?" Remembering the name the boy called the demon "are you looking for employment?" Sebastian asked curiously, (name) raising an eyebrow at the question.

"What are you on about?"

"I can offer you something, an exchange"

"What could you possibly offer me?"

"Demon blood in exchange for employment" (name) didn't need money, he didn't need items or anything material as he lived for centuries and had an Elizabethan era outfit in a chest in the attic of his home. "You are willing to give me your blood?" (Name)s eyes were blown out while moving to touch the others cold neck, right around his jugular "no more attacking humans, work under me and you get demonic blood" demonic blood was like a fine wine to a vampire, addictive and delicious.

Sebastian could smell the omegas pharamones even when masked, biting his lips "do you know what you're asking of me, alpha?"

"I am well aware of what in asking, Omega" Sebastian whispered, getting closer to the other "I'm half human, do you think you can handle my mortal emotions? I am very high maintenance" (name) didn't flinch, the twos lips barely touching and eyes locking "I think I can manage, humans are needy creatures"

"Half human"

"Ah yes, like a mutt"

(Name) Glared "my my what a charmer, can you please kindly get your flat bottom off me alpha?" (Name) Batted his eyes "don't you have your child to tend to?"

"Do you accept my offer?"

"I suppose I will become your mate..." (Name) Huffed, looking at the alpha who was now his mate "my heat is in two weeks, I will be having it here and I will be keeping my residence for such matters or if you annoy me too much"

Sebastian silently chuckled at the Omega he chose, a snarky vampire who didn't care for silly human traditions on being an Omega.

This was going to be fun.

[ghostfacd]

I FEEL YOUR COMPLIMENTS LIKE BULLETS ON SKIN. | JACK HUGHES

au masterlist

Jack had always made sure to compliment how good you were at being a mother. How great you were with the kids, how gracefully you handled each problem when it arose. That was just who Jack Hughes was. He was a charmer, always having a way with his words.

You never hated Jack Hughes more than you had at this moment. Your second and youngest baby, Daisy Hughes, was currently celebrating away her first birthday, her chubby hands clapping together excitedly, not aware that her mother, you, was going through an emotional turmoil.

Your first baby, however, was extremely smart for his age. So caring and thoughtful.

“You ‘kay mama?” He wasn’t able to speak proper sentences yet, only being 2, but he had the idea down.

“I’m okay bubba, thank you for asking.” You picked him up, giving him a kiss on the cheek to which he returned one to yours, sloppy but so full of love that it reminded you of Jack.

In fact, Olivier reminded you so much of Jack. He was practically your husband’s carbon copy, your genes having not put up a single fight.

“Daisy fussin’ mama,” Olivier presses his small hands against your cheek, making you turn to look at his baby sister.

“She’s probably just hungry,” you reassure him, placing him down gently before opening the fridge to get milk. “Aren’t you Daisy bear?”

Your baby talk makes your daughter babble something happily back, smiling ear to ear. She was adorable, your mini copy.

An hour later, most of your family members, including Jack’s parents and Quinn had came over to the house, all holding mini gift bags that said Happy Birthday!

Olivier had practically ran over Ellen, who smothered the boy in kisses before doing the same to Daisy who was currently sitting in her high chair.

“Oh my! She’s grown so big,” Ellen says admiringly, “she looks so much like you Rory.”

“Thank you mama,” you say, holding onto Ellen’s hand for a while before taking out the cake you had bought yesterday from the fridge. It was mini sized, perfect for Daisy who’s eyes lit up at the sight of it.

“Jack’s busy tonight?” Quinn whispers after your baby is done blowing out her cake.

“Yeah, him and Luke are away.” You try to hide your disappointment, but Quinn can clearly see it. He knows you like the back of his hand at this point, you were his sister in law.

“Has he called at least?”

You sigh, shaking your head. You knew Jack loved Daisy, you knew he loved both of your kids with all his heart, but it was still upsetting to know that he would be missing Daisy’s first milestone.

“Well don’t worry about it too much Rory, I’m sure he’ll call by tonight. That’s his Daisy girl after all, he wouldn’t miss seeing you two over FaceTime.”

You nod, giving Quinn a quick hug before waving goodbye to all your family members. Now, it was just you and your two kids, like it had been for the past 2 weeks.

You missed Jack with all your heart, wanting to do this entire parenting thing with him. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to be here with you guys, it was just that he couldn’t. But it didn’t make that any less painful.

“Hey.” The sound of Jack makes both of your kids’ ears perk up, Daisy blabbing happily as Olivier ran out from his room.

“Dada!” Ollie takes a seat right next to Daisy, who was currently on your lap.

“My Ollie boy!” Jack’s smile grows wide, watching as Olivier fidgets around in happiness. “How was Daisy’s birthday baby? Did you guys have fun?”

“So much fun!” Olivier opens his arms wide, as if he was trying to express how much fun he had with the length of his arm. “I had this much fun!”

“Oh really,” Jack laughs. “I bet you did. Did you give mama a hard time?”

“Nah uh!” Olivier shakes his head, getting up and personal to the camera. “Daisy was fussin’ earlier dada, but mama took care of her.”

“I’m glad.” Jack then turns his attention to you on the screen. “Hi Rory sweetheart.”

“Hi,” you say. You want to sound happy, you do, but not having Jack by your side really took a toll on your emotions.

“You okay?”

“I just wish you were here Jacky.”

Jack sighs, turning on his hotel room lamp. “I know baby, I wish I was too. I really miss you guys.”

“It doesn’t seem like it.”

Jack’s happy demeanor flatters. “What did you say?”

“Nothing Jack,”

He shakes his head. “No Rory. I heard you. What do you mean it doesn’t seem like it?”

“You barely called today Jack!” You say exasperated, “it’s your daughter’s first birthday, and you barely called. It’s 10pm right now, I should’ve put Daisy and Ollie to sleep an hour ago, but I was waiting on your phone call ‘cause I knew they’d wanted to see you. You know, their father, Jack.”

Jack rubs his face in annoyance, clearly not expecting such a reaction from you. “Well I’m sorry I was busy Rory. I would’ve called if I wasn’t, you know that right? I love you guys, you know this. I’m sorry I haven’t been there Ror, I know it’s hard on you. But you’re such a good mother, you’re doing so well with the kids, I’m proud of you.”

“You know what’s funny, J?” You laugh, a few tears coming to your eyes. “Your words are supposed to make me feel better. Your compliments are supposed to make me let go of all this tension. But they feel like bullets, Jack. I feel your compliments feel like bullets on skin.”

Jack doesn’t know what to say. He knew you would be upset he wouldn’t be able to make it to Daisy’s birthday, but he didn’t think you’d be this upset.

“I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay? We both just need to calm down.”

And before you could protest, Jack’s already hung up.

You swear quietly, covering your baby’s ear as you do so. You get up from your place on the couch, deciding to just call it a night and put Daisy to sleep.

“Are you asleep yet Ol?” You peek your head quietly into your son’s room after putting Daisy in her crib.

“No mama,” he says quietly back, little feet running to you. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Of course you can sweetheart,” you carry Olivier on your hip, walking to your room and making sure your son gets comfortable under the sheets. “Mama is gonna do her skincare, you sleep first, okay baby?”

“Yes mama.”

That night, you can’t help but cry silently as you cuddled your son close to your chest. You knew you were being emotional, but you couldn’t help it. You missed Jack more than anything.

The next morning, you’re awoken by a kiss on the forehead.

“J?” You say groggily, making out your husband’s face as your vision becomes clearer. “J!”

You throw your arms around him, bringing him into a tight hug.

“Rory.” He replies back, pulling away to give you a long awaited kiss on the lips.

After pulling away, you can’t help but chase his lips, which make him chuckle quietly. He presses his head down to give a kiss on Olivier’s forehead.

“Daisy’s still asleep?” You ask, putting your arms around Jack’s shoulders. You missed feeling his touch so much.

“Sound asleep.” Jack smiles. “Looks exactly like her mama.”

You look down guilty, realizing what you had said to Jack yesterday. “I’m sorry about yesterday J. I was just really emotional about you missing Dais’s first birthday. It means a lot to me that you’re here for our babies milestones.”

“I know.” Jack says, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “I’m here now, okay? I told them I had to be home with my wife and kids immediately after I hung up last night. I had to see you guys again, it was killing me too.”

You pull Jack into a hug once again, cherishing this intimate moment you were having with him. It felt so good to have him back in your arms again after a long 2 weeks.

You were too happy to remember to show him the news you had found out a few days ago.

The blue stick with two lines on it.

[pedgito]

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 | Francisco Morales x reader

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | working your summer job you find yourself fawning over a boy you barely know, realizing by the end of the summer that letting go of him may not be the best idea.

content warning | young!frankie morales, reader is working in bar (if there’s some things wrong, just know i tried fjsjsj), background tf boys, phone texts, inebriated hook ups (frankie is a lil drunk but he’s okay i swear) smut out the wazoo, oral (m/f receiving, protecting p in v, hints of voyeurism, idk let me live in this dream pls

word count — 7.5k

The bar was supposed to be easy cash, a second job you picked up during the summer, between the interim of your final year of college and the beginning of your life—just some extra money to keep you afloat amongst the drowning seas of tuition debt. But, the job came with unexpected challenges—rude customers, drunk customers, (given that you worked in a bar you really couldn’t fault them) but it was the rowdy ones that really got under your skin. And you quickly learned the unspoken schedule of customers as they made their weekly round for a few drinks, some over-fried bar food, and a game of darts or pool.

Monday through Wednesday were some of your more favorite days, friendlier people who liked to visit earlier in the day before the bar got packed after sunset, some relaxed chit chat and a beer or two. They tipped very nicely, too.

Thursday was the slowest of the week, co-workers sliding in to catch a game of pool or watch some sports game on the old, ratty television tucked in the corner area of the bar, even with you squinting your eyes it was still barely visible and they almost always left the biggest messes at their table—but again, you couldn’t complain when it was only a few tables you had to scrub down.

Friday was always busy, the weekends just as bad—from open to close you were shuffling around behind the bar, in tune with your co-workers as you moved around each other. You knew some people by name and some would politely remind you—you saw about a hundred different faces every week, some were bound to slip through the cracks.

But, within your first week there, you found a particular group of boys would show up every Friday without fail—a few rounds of beers, a mountain of wings and fries and whatever else they could get their hands on, and a game or two of darts and a pool table they had just to themselves.

The charmer, Santiago, was the first to introduce himself.

A crisp hundred dollar bill slipped over in advance with a softer tone, “I’m apologizing in advance, they tend to get a little, uh, loud.” It wasn't the right word, but you smiled nonetheless, still checking the money behind the counter in case he tried to slide you a fake and mask it with a simple courtesy that wasn't shown often. Kindness. 

You start their tab, grab their orders, and within twenty minutes their voices are already booming over the rest and arguing about a stupid game of darts, three other boys crowded around Santiago as their faces are within an inch of the board, fingers pointing all over.

There is a straggler, though—a man who’s similar in age to most of the boys, late twenties maybe? He had to be close to your age or just a little older but the sodden expression on his face made him feel much older, sipping at the round of beers you had brought by as soon as Santiago headed back for the table.

They call him Catfish, whatever that means—and it seems like they all have nicknames for each other and you wanted to ask, but it didn’t seem worth it. Your Rolodex of names in your head was already bursting at its seams and Santiago was the only one you could bother to remember, especially when he’s sliding over a chunk of cash in advance rather than blowing up his tab and then scrambling to pay.

For a few weeks it’s just that. They come in, Santiago pays, and then they spend a few hours in the back of the bar arguing like boys, rather than men. But, they always leave you a hefty tip when they don’t fill out their tab or when they go over and pay it out and then some. 

And naturally, you’re curious. About them. About him.

So, when Catfish comes in on a Saturday night completely alone, that curiosity does get the better of you.

He doesn’t make much of a scene, sliding into the bar stool instead of taking up a table, and seeing how busy it is, he waits—quietly and with a faint smile on his face that you catch a few times in passing, refilling cups with ice and offering a polite smile back.

When you finally get to him you're slightly breathless, wiping your hands on the towel tucked into your back pocket, “Hey, sorry about—what can I get you?”

“Just a beer,” He says with a shrug, promptly sliding over a twenty as you pour and hand off the glass.

“Where’s the others?” You ask curiously, an attempt at casual conversation despite selfishly wanting to know.

“A party,” Fish explains, “Benny won his tournament so they’re celebrating that.”

The name sounds familiar but you can’t quite place it.

“The younger one,” He adds with a subtle smirk, seeing the furrow in your brow of you thinking too hard.

“So Benny, Santiago—but you get stuck with Catfish?”

It can’t be his actual name, but they never use anything else.

“Francisco,” He takes a generous sip of his beer before setting it down, tapping his fingers idly against the surface of the bar, “—but, just Frankie. If that’s easier.”

You tilt your head with a genuine smile, putting a name to a face and it feels fitting, the hat suffocating his mop of hair, curls peeking around the edge of his hat and the dark colored tees he always wore, some sort of dismay always written on his face. You can’t explain it, but it works for him.

Frankie. Francisco. Catfish.

“Well, Frankie—if you need anything just yell. That’s probably the only way I’ll hear you,” You tell him with a laugh before attempting to depart—the bar isn’t too bad at the moment, all customers dealt with but the roar of the bar is loud.

“Well—wait,” Frankie half shouts, grabbing your attention, “what’s your name? I gave you mine, seems fair to ask.”

You tell him with a shrug, “But, I only ever hear honey or sweetheart all night, so really, I’m whatever you want me to be.”

Frankie chuckles at that, looking away briefly as if to busy his mind with something else and you slip away then.

You don’t ask why he came alone—why he would skip out on a party with the men he came here every Friday night with—maybe he needed a break. Alone time. It wasn’t your business.

But, one Saturday becomes another. And two months later he’s come by every Saturday. Alone. And giving you his undivided attention. It’s sweet, you’ll admit that. 

He isn’t as closed off on Friday’s when he arrives with the other boys but isn’t as outwardly friendly as say, Santiago would be during that time. But, Saturdays—he’s a whole different person. Lighter. Happier.

He only ever orders one beer, makes small talk, and lately—he’s been walking you to your car. So, not only is he nursing that beer over the four hours left in your shift by the time he gets there, he’s waiting for you. To clock out, that is.

Really, it’s against your better judgment. Allowing a total stranger to know what you drive, where you park, what time your shift ends, but Frankie is a… friend.

He isn’t like most of the customers, terrible at small talk and flirting and only making half-assed, nasty comments toward you when they get a few rounds in. 

He’s seen it a few times. He never berates the guys, but he does pull your attention away, occupies your mind, and always manages to slip in a few words that make your legs go weak and encourage the dull throb between your thighs—even if it’s just a smile and an apology on their behalf. 

Frankie always shows interests, ask about you and your life in the politest way he can without seeming like a complete creep—you can tell he doesn’t flirt often, by the way he’s quiet around his friends when you stop by their table or how he never asks for your number despite twirling his phone in his hands idly most of the night, trying to seem occupied but mostly staring at a blank screen until he finally gains the courage to ask you another question.

The first night he walks you to your car it’s quick—he stays until you close up for the night and walks around back, a careful and watchful eye on your surroundings as he nods and wishes you goodnight with a half-hearted smile, kicking himself in the ass for not just asking for your number.

And it continues like that for weeks, within those couple months, and gradually Frankie bursts out of his shell little by little until you both are giggling one night over a particularly rowdy customer, having gotten himself arrested for indecent exposure and broken a table. 

His hand grazes your lower back as you walk out, a genuine mistake but you turn your head toward him quickly, soothing his worries with a smile as you stick the key into the lock.

“Don’t worry about it,” You tell him with a comforting tone, “I’m used to men being a little more handsy than that, so, if anything, you’re a gentleman.”

“Those aren’t men.” Frankie argues lightheartedly.

“Eh, men who act like boys,” You say, “they’re assholes either way you put it.”

Frankie nods, readjusting his cap on his head as he pushes his fingers through his hair.

You twist the keys in your hand and start the walk toward your car.

“Do you ever take that thing off?”

Frankie’s eyes dart up toward the hat and he chuckles, hidden under the scruff and grown out facial hair, “No. No, not really.”

“Would you do it if I asked you to?”

He contemplates but never gives you a straight answer, forcing you to prod him gently with the end of your key, “Don’t worry—I won’t. Not yet.”

Frankie’s fingers curl around the edge of your door as he holds it open and watches you climb in, mind swimming with a million ways to ask what he wants, but it never comes.

But, you see it on his face immediately, the caution behind his eyes in being so forward with you.

“Ask for it,” You tell him, turning on the ignition to your car, still looking at him as he looms between you and the car door, “—unless you want to make me ask.”

Frankie looks away briefly and you laugh softly at his sudden unabashed expression as he smiles and turns back to you, “Can I have your number?”

You hold your hand out in wait, thumbing in your number the moment the phone finds your palm. You send yourself a short text with a smiley face to make sure it goes through and hand it back over, feeling a sudden flutter of anxiety in your chest.

Not good, not bad—but it is something.

“Put it to good use,” You warn him, “don’t make me regret that.”

Frankie smiles wider that time, his teeth peeking out behind full lips.

“Right,” He agrees, “absolutely. I promise.”

He adds a soft goodnight and you depart, feeling your phone buzz again before you even pull out of the parking lot.

[Unknown Number]: Goodnight

You snort a quiet laugh to yourself.

An hour later, a toothbrush tucked into your cheek as you stare down at your phone when it vibrates. You had half the mind to save his number despite your exhaustion from the shift you worked.

[Frankie]: Home safe?

[You]: Yep. :) Thank you for checking on me

[Frankie]: :) Goodnight. 

[Frankie]: Again lol.

It’s stupid—it shouldn’t make you smile. But, it does.

You quickly find every day occupied by Frankie in some form, through text or just the thought of him. He’s everywhere and you can’t seem to care—and you give up sleep in the middle of the night for text conversations that come from just wanting to hear from him, as nervous as you are to just call—you could, you knew he wouldn’t care. But, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

You try to learn as much as you can about him.

[You]: Why Catfish?

It’s a random Tuesday when the text comes through his phone. He’s busy in class, cramming himself in as many hours as possible before he tests for his pilot license.

[Frankie]: Long story. Obnoxiously long. Why?

[You]: Just curious. It’s a strange nickname

[Frankie]: So what does that make me?

Frankie doesn’t get a response for a while and he knows you’re probably working, but he finds his fingers reaching for his pocket any time his phone vibrates in the hopes that it’s you.

[You]: Sorry. There was a mess at work. 

[You]: It makes you strange btw

[You]: I’m kidding. But, it’s still a weird nickname.

Frankie can tell it’s you from the constant buzzing and he takes a peek at his phone.

[Frankie]: Oh shit. How bad of a mess?

[Frankie]: I know. Maybe I can explain it another time.

You’re busy wiping the beer off your face as you look at his text, the security dragging out the guy who had splashed the glass of liquid back at your face.

[You]: Some asshole threw a beer at me. Nothing new. Clothes are soaked.

[You]: Don’t try to make a joke about that or I’m double charging you this Friday.

Frankie frowns at the implication that you think he’s first instinct is to make a joke at your expense, but you can’t help to protect yourself from the behavior you’re used to from most men.

[Frankie]: Do you need me to bring you something? I can stop by on my way home?

[You]: I’ll survive. Thank you, though. My shift is almost over.

A couple days later you end up going down a fireshot line of questioning to get to know him, much to his surprise.

[You]: Okay. Birthday?

[Frankie]: April 2nd. 

He returns the question to which you answer but add on another text with a joke at his expense.

[You]: Damn, a day short and that would be perfect for you. So, you’re an Aries.

[Frankie]: Yeah, whatever that means.

You laugh to yourself, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you walk through your local grocery store to pick up items for dinner that night.

[You]: It fits you. Oh! What do you do for work?

[You]: Fair game since you know what I do.

[Frankie]: We’re all in the army. I work on aircraft.

Oh, that’s…not what you were expecting.

[Frankie]: It’s new. I’m trying to get my pilot's license right now. I’ve got a big test coming up for it.

[You]: That’s so cool! Take me for a ride sometime?

You smirk to yourself as you press send.

[Frankie]: Yes.

You look ridiculous smiling at your phone in the middle of the aisle but you can’t help it.

In the army. A pilot. And a gentleman? Or, at least he’s provided himself to be nice enough. You were both young, so it didn’t surprise you that you were both unluckily single. But, Frankie seemed like such a catch—and it terrified you how badly you wanted him. Even in the simplest form. 

A friend, a best friend, even. Or more, definitely more. But, you didn’t mind either way.

He’s due to take the test for his pilot license the Monday after your last shift, showing up with the boys on that Friday before—typical routine and behavior, but he does seem a bit more handsy. Santiago has always been friendly, but he does hug you this time he sees you, catching you on the way back to the bar and he plants a kiss on your cheek that you welcome with a soft, playful shove of your hand at his face and if it strikes Frankie with jealousy, you don’t notice.

But, he does shock you when he wraps an arm around your front and hugs you lazily, haphazardly slumping his other arm over your shoulder as he plants a kiss in your the hair at the crown on your head and rubs your hip with his thumb, leaving you dumbstruck and wanton the rest of your shift, frazzled every time you glance his way.

Santiago orders a round of shots toward the end of the night and thanks you with a wink, departing for the table and interrupting the idle conversation the men were entranced in.

You’re not sure what was going on, wiping down the counter as the night slowed down and casually flicking your eyes up to check on them, hearing them laugh occasionally, glancing your way briefly and suddenly Frankie was headed your way, fiddling around with the brim of his hat as he pressed a forearm against the countertop you had just wiped down. 

You snap him gently with the towel and give him a look, he backs away slightly, hovering over the edge of the counter.

“What’s up?”

“They’re a bunch of dicks, I’m sorry.” Frankie deflected, glancing back at the boys who were staring on with sated smirks, clearly enjoying the sight of him fumbling and dropping the ball as he spoke to you. His eyes flick up wearily, soft and so distinct to him that it makes your heart ache. “Pope—Santiago, he dared me to come over and kiss you. And it’s stupid but if I didn’t at least try I would never hear the end–”

You pull him in by the collar of his shirt, the brim of his hat being pushed askew by the force as you press your lips to his in a simple, but unmistakable kiss. Tilting your head slightly as you pull away briefly to kiss him once more, dropping your towel to push your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck and it seems like his brain catches up too late, his fingers barely grazing your neck as you pull away.

You pointedly look around Frankie to flip the other three off with both hands.

“Get out of here,” You warn playfully, “before I murder one of them.”

Frankie huffs a soft laugh through his nose before he turns away, speechless.

They were out of there within a few minutes, but an hour later your lips were still tingling.

Frankie is different that Saturday—more energetic, seeming lighter and more playful. 

He drinks one beer, then two, surprisingly a couple shots of tequila—and before you know it, you’re seeing a much different side of Frankie than you're used to and it is quite the sight.

“Am I cutting you off?” You ask curiously, “I don’t want you nursing a hangover tomorrow when you have your test on Monday.”

“One more,” Frankie promises, “but—surprise me?”

You shrug, not finding a problem with it.

“Sweet or savory?” You ask him.

You feel your breath catch slightly as he pauses, his eyes doing a subtle drag over your body as you take a couple steps back, reaching for an empty glass.

“Sweet.” 

It has an underlying tension to it neither of you address. 

You make something up on the fly—fruity and sweet with the slightest bit of tang, nothing that screams Frankie but when you set it down in front of him and he drinks, his eyes widen slightly.

And for half a second you think he might spit it out, but then he’s chugging the rest down—and maybe it’s alcohol dulling his taste buds but he makes a quick show of assuring you he liked it, even if it’s mostly for your own benefit.

Shaking his head as he licks at his lips with his tongue in a way that feels so unnecessary that you can’t help but giggle, snatching the empty glass away from him as he smiles, his eyes half-lidded from the faint buzz he has going on, but otherwise he still seems fine.

You couldn’t let him get that drunk, not when he had so much riding on that test.

By the end of the night, your side hurts from laughing so much, forceably having to shove your hand in Frankie’s face to get him to shut up for half a second, his fingers circling around your wrist as he pulls you forward and you giggle into his shoulder.

“Stay. Let me close up and we can walk through the back.” You tell him and he nods quietly, though his grin never fades, his thumb brushing over his bottom lip idly while he watches you work around the clutter and reorganize, cleaning everything down before you’re flicking off the lights and nodding at him to follow.

If it were anyone else, you’d have given them a stiff kick to the balls and sent them on their way, but the moment Frankie noses at your neck your hard resolve melts and you shrug him away at how much it tickles your skin, feeling his hand wrap around the bicep on your left arm. He’s never been so touchy but you can’t say you don’t enjoy it. In fact, you’re eating it up at this point.

“Frankie,” You warn him playfully, working and failing to lock the door as uses his other hand to squeeze at your side, “come on—I can’t lock up with you doing that.”

“Try,” He teases, challenges, and you can’t help but like the bolder, less restrained side of himself he’s offering up to you.

The gentle nuzzling quickly turns to kisses, wet and open mouthed as he practically drapes himself over you, one hand pressed into the brick wall beside the backdoor and you sigh softly, leaning into his chest as you finally get the door locked and shrug him away.

“Am I going to see you next week?” He asks hopefully, knowing that with August looming in the distance that your job at the bar was close to being nullified. 

You shake your head with a bittersweet smile, “Tomorrow is my last day, actually. For now, anyway.”

Frankie’s brow furrows at that and he shakes his head slightly before he’s invading your space, hands cupping your face as he lifts your chin up to meet your lips and kisses you gently, your fingers coming up to curls around his forearms and you feel his lips part just as you pull away.

“What—what are you doing?” You ask him, feeling like an echo as he comes back to the surface with a delayed response, trying to kiss you again but you're pressing your fingertips over his lips until he realizes that you actually want an answer.

“I’ve wanted you all summer,” He admits and it makes your blood run hot, that distinct tingle of pleasure shooting down your spine and it is nothing you were expecting him to say, but tonight was full of surprises apparently, “do I need to prove it to you?”

He presses his forehead against your own and you shake your head in response. You believed him, you didn’t doubt him for a second—but it feels surreal. Those quick, fleeting summer flings you only hear about in passing, never expecting to experience it yourself.

You may never see him again, you had to strike the match while it was still in reach.

“Are there cameras back here?” Frankie asks hastily.

You snort, “No—we’re five minutes away from college dorms in the poorest part of town. People come here for cheap booze, not security.”

Frankie nods at that, “You’re right,” He responds but the end is muffled as he kisses you again, with less care and a lot more tongue as you open your mouth to him and find the words on your tongue are muffled by his.

And thank god the street lights were shit in the back alley, barely working amongst the occasional flicker, you eventually find your way in the darkened corner of the back alley with Frankie’s hand working at the button on your jeans, almost tripping over an overturned crate on the way there that causes you both to burst into a fit of giggles, laughing through the sloppy kisses Frankie can’t help but smother you with, sighing when his fingers dip past the denim and thin fabric underwear to cup your pussy with his entire hand, the warmth of his palm like an answered prayer.

His hat is frustrating though, constantly bumping and prodding at your head before you finally get fed up, plucking it off his head and tossing it to the ground with an annoyed sigh that forces a choked laugh from Frankie’s throat, dipping a finger down the center of your core before pressing inside of you, gasping at the sudden but welcomed intrusion. You release a shaky sigh and open your eyes to look at him, finding he’s plenty amused but still buzzed in his own way.

Half beer, half pleasure—but he looks like he wants to devour you.

Lucky for you, he was starving.

Your mouth hangs open slightly, breathing picking up as he angles his fingers and slips another inside, curling them toward you from within and you pull at the curls at the nape of his neck.

He smirks in amusement, “Wish you could see how needy you look,” Frankie comments, “all it took was a couple fingers, huh?”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Too bad it took you all summer,” You pester him as he picks up the intensity, using his other hand to push your jeans lower down your hips, “and some stupid fuckin’ drink to make you finally want to have sex with.”

“Sex?” Frankie jokes through a throaty chuckle, “Who said anything about—”

Your hand cups the front of his jeans firmly, a little harsher than necessary but you can tell he doesn’t mind, almost challenging you to tease him a little more but the moment you both hit a solid wall you’re tripping over each other’s feet and it pulls you back to the surface and despite your clothes being half-stripped away and Frankie’s hand still shoved down the front of your jeans, it brings back a surprising amount levity to assess the situation at hand.

“I mean, do you want to?” You ask him curiously, tucking a curl behind his ear as he blinks, considering how this would affect his relationship with you, as brief and fleeting as it was.

“You’re really asking me that?” He responds, “Of course.”

“Well, I mean you did just say—”

Frankie places his palm over your mouth, muffling the end of your sentence.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He deflects, hoping you’ll play along.

You work at his belt without hesitation, far over the small talk and tired of wasting time. Frankie pulls his hand away much to your disappoint, pouting slightly as he drag his hand up your stomach, under your shirt until he’s got it tucked under your chin and mouthing of your bra greedily, the fingers of his other hand peeking around the fabric to pull it down, taking the soft, pebbled nipple into his mouth and sucking with a satisfied groan as you dip your hand beyond his waistband and over his boxers, pulled tight against his thighs and groin. You could picture the sight of him in your mind for hours if you wanted, but you had him here, right here. 

Why not give yourself a peek at the real thing?

Frankie is lost, deep within the exploration of your body that he doesn’t even hear your voice when you plead with him, his voice grazing over the delicate skin of your breasts as he pulls away, already ready to descend and yank your jeans the rest of the way down, press his face between your legs and feast on you like it was the best thing he’s tried all night.

But, there’s the pout again—so subtle he would miss it had he not finally given you his full, undivided attention and he was right. You are needy.

His thumb rubs at the small sliver of your lip that’s poking out, rocking his hips gently into the hand still tucked away into his jeans—there was such a distinct charm to him, melting under his gaze the second his eyes made contact with your own. Every time.

“I don’t wanna keep you,” You whine emphatically and Frankie almost immediately begins to shake his head—

No. No, of course not. You wouldn’t be keeping him at all. Not a chance, not a fuckin—his inner monologue is going wild but he finds you perking up at the slowly growing panic on his face.

“But,” You breath, the thumb that was resting at your bottom lip trailing down the valley of your breasts before he cups one gently in his hand, “I couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t give you at least something to remember this.”

“Couldn’t forget about you if I tried, actually,” He begins, but you shake your head, shushing him and pushing his hand away before you sink to your knees despite the immediate protest in your knees at the hard gravel—but god was it fucking worth it when you look up, half-lidded eyes staring back as you shake his jeans down his hips, just far enough that you can watch as he does the work with his boxers, cock bobbing free as he settles the band underneath his balls and if has to look away by that point, overwhelmed in the way your eyes roam but you don’t speak, clearly admiring and seering this to memory as you smile cheekily, taking his cock in your hand and jerk him slowly, thumb running along the vein that follows to the head of his cock.

“Get off the floor,” He begs pathetically, “gonna tear your knees up doing that.”

You laugh quietly to yourself and slide your tongue along the head of his cock, dipping down the slit of his head and to his shaft, pulling back at the skin and taking him into your mouth fully. He’s uncircumcised, thick and perfect—he fills your mouth out so beautifully in all his girth that you wonder just how much better it can feel between your legs, filling you out in the best way.

“Oh, jesus—baby, that’s,” You hum, bobbing your head in constant rhythm as your work your free hand around his balls, cupping them and allowing your other hand to cover the rest of what your mouth couldn’t take of his length and Frankie looks like he might actually pass out, looking around desperately for something, anything to lean on before he just settles for the wall behind you, resting both of his palms against the brick as he towers over you.

Frankie sighs shakily, dropping a hand to tuck against the back of your head, and your stomach swirls with anticipation as he allows himself to break his restrain a little, guiding his cock into your mouth with little aide given how eager you were as you took him as far as you could go, brush your nose against the trimmed patch of hair at the base and feel his hand flex in your hair, gripping it tight and attempting to pull you off to no avail, repeating the process until he’s begging for you to slow down, give him just a few seconds to breathe, ultimately finding that you don’t stop until he finally finds his voice again, stuttering out a desperate, “Stop, stop, stop–”

You pull away suddenly, worrying crossing your face but quickly dissipating as Frankie laughs, pulling you to your feet without much fight on your part and he does notice the few scraps on your knees, collecting with blood and he really wishes you would have listened but you brush him off, his body pressing you up against the brick wall behind you, pants still hanging at his thighs and his dick pressed against your stomach, shirt still sloppily bunched up over your tits.

“Can I fuck you?” He asks, so vulgar it makes you pulse around absolutely nothing, his eyes roving over your face curiously, his thumb tracing over your lips, with a soft mumble, “God, I need you so bad.”

“My car,” You respond, tongue pressing against the pad of his fingertip as you nod behind him, “Condoms, they’re—in the car.”

Frankie makes a face, sort of amused but a little confused.

“Shut up,” You null his question before it slips out—”It’s precaution, okay? Guys love to pull the whole—”

“No, I—I get it,” Frankie answers, a small laugh rounding out his tone, “I just figured, you know—we’d…go back to your place? Or mine?”

Your hand fists into his shirt slowly, pulling him impossibly closer like he wasn’t already pressed against every surface of your body.

“What if I can’t wait?” Your eyes soften, looking up at him and catching the swipe of his tongue over his bottom lip, wanting to taste that tinge of sugar that lingers with him, “Would you fuck me right now?”

Frankie nods eagerly and you don’t hesitate, grabbing for his hat, placing it against his chest and gripping his hand in your own before you shove him away gently and lead him to your car, mostly covered in darkness aside from the obnoxiously orange streetlight that glowed overhead. Your clothes haphazardly pulled back up as you clamber into the driver's seat to reach over the console and into the glovebox, aware of the hand that slides between your leg as you search in the poor lighting, squealing when he squeezes at the flesh under his grip and shoving the foil wrapper into Frankie’s chest when you finally get your hand on the box.

“Off,” He tells you, pulling at the zipper of your jeans, “all the way.”

There was so much going on in your mind, nothing you could pluck out and focus on but it buzzed with excitement, anticipation, the kind of adrenaline that only comes in situations when your judgment is hasty and not fully-thought out. You’re barely kicking your shoes off and pulling your jeans past your ankle before Frankie is manhandling you into the backseat, and pressing his face between your thighs as he licks into you, a surprised gasp tearing from your throat as you grip the seats wherever you can.

Your pussy throbs under the care of his tongue, and he carries on obnoxiously, making a mess between your legs as his fingertips grip at the flesh of your ass and force you to open yourself wider to him, “Frankie—” You interject weakly, but he silences you with his mouth, sucking at your clit like it was his new obsession and you whine so pathetically that you find you covering your mouth in shame, biting gently at your bicep to muffle the flurry of sounds that came out after.

He pulls away some time later—minutes, hours, days, you can’t even place it. But, you hear him shift, the rip of the wrapper and the jingling of his belt as he shifts his jeans further down and slides into the backseat more comfortably, hovering over you. His hands squeezing at your hips, a comforting gesture as he speaks from behind you.

“Are you sure?” 

It’s sweet, you can admit that. But, you don’t need that.

“Frankie.”

He wasn’t budging. Because, if by some sudden change of heart you didn’t want this, he wanted to know.

“Yes. Yes,” You say, turning slightly to look over your shoulder, his face only an inch or so away as you tuck your arm back and push your fingers into his hair, pulling his face next to yours as he pushes inside of you slowly, yanking gently at the strands between your fingers as he settles, a soft sigh falling from your lips.

“Let me hear you,” He begs, “It’s just us.”

He hears you all the time, voice carrying across the bar but never like this—for him, only for him.

He pulls back gently, snapping his hips firmly and you hum softly, slightly giddy over the entire situation. He continues that way, so gentle and cautious that it makes you wonder why you both avoided this for so long, “More?” Frankie asks. You nod and his pace quickens slightly, a little harsher, and your hand grips onto the passenger seat beside your head for leverage as he chest rumbles with a deep sigh, “Fuck this is—baby, you have no idea.”

“Tell me,” You plead, the quiet creak of the car drowned out by your loud, pathetic moans as Frankie’s fingers curl around your throat and hold, no pressing or squeezing, just another place for them to find a home.

“Thought about this—so many times,” He admits, “came here for months—fuck, months. And then you show up and I was nervous—couldn’t, couldn’t even think of what to say to you. I knew I’d embarrass myself in front of them.” He squeezes then, a gentle pressure on your throat that has your eyes rolling back in your head.

“I had to see you alone,” His throat is tight, his breath a little quicker as he speaks, his hips snapping into you at a steady pace that clouds your mind effortlessly, “wanted you for myself—and, I would’ve fucked you that first night if you’d let me.”

You cunt squeezes him tight at his words and he curses, “So greedy, baby. She’s drooling all over me—such a fucking mess,” And you need to see him, face the man who’s finally found just the right amount of confidence to make you speechless. You lean up suddenly and force a hand into his chest and he only looks slightly confused before you’re pulling him inside and forcing him to sit into the cramped back seat, uncaring of the open car door as the car rocks with the weight of your bodies and you seat yourself on his lap, gripping his dick in your hand and sinking back down onto him without a word, curling yourself over him as you push away the hair clinging to his forehead, damp from sweat and his eyes are blown wide, staring up at you like he was under hypnosis, gaze locked on your own.

“Tell me now,” You challenge him—nowhere to hide behind his words.

“Would you—have let me fuck you that one night I walked you to your car?” He asks.

You smile guiltily, remembering the heat of his hand on your back, never really an accident.

“I’d have let you fuck me over the pool table if you asked, Frankie.” You admit, “In front of your friends too, if that’s what you really wanted.”

Frankie laughs weakly, giving you the lead as you lift your hips with a sudden eagerness.

“Is that what you want?” You tease him, “You guys are all about claim, right? Army boys love to show off—I mean, they’d probably be into it. Santi, for sure—”

Frankie covers your mouth with his hand and you giggle, biting playfully at the flesh of his palm.

He squeezes at your hip with his free hand, forcing you into a hurried pace as he begins to move his hips to meet your own, lifting off the seat slightly with every snap of his hips. Your cry is muffled by his hand but Frankie sees it in your eyes, the flutter of your eyelashes that tells him.

“Touch yourself, babygirl,” He tells you, “Let’s see how bad you want it.”

You lean back between the open space of the driver and passenger seat, one hand gripping the upholstery of the seat while the other works between your legs, fingers drifting over your clit and into the mess of yourself that was leaking over Frankie’s cock from where it was buried inside of you and he wasn’t lying—you’ve never been so turned on in your life. Half-assed hook-ups and guys that didn’t give a shit about your own pleasure, Frankie was a goddamn dream and a hell of a good fuck. 

You know your body well enough that it doesn’t take long, but the show is for Frankie’s benefit alone, head thrown back over your shoulders as your middle and ring finger circle your clit, occasionally wrapping your hand around what of his shaft was available as you tried weakly to move your hips, squeezing to pull a soft little gasp from his chest. It was such a damn shame you didn’t have him fully naked, splayed out on the mattress in your shitty apartment. You wanted to dig your nails into his skin, leave half crescent marks and a reminder of you for days, weeks even. 

“Fuck, I’m right there, baby—” He warns, unexpectedly joining your own fingers and forcing you over the edge just before he pulls you in, a brutal snap of his hips before he’s muffling the deep groans of his orgasm into your skin, teeth sinking gently into your shoulder.

The next few minutes is spent in a blissful silence, moving off of him carefully as he discards the condom but never letting you drift to far, still curled up and half naked on his lap as he pushes a strand of hair away from your face, pulling you in for a kiss that takes your breath away, literally pulls from your chest and makes your heart stop.

Oh…this was not good. 

You breathe shakily and pull away with a smile that masks that sudden ache in your chest and kiss again at the inside of his palm. He leans his head against the backseat, eyes closed as he catches his breath and groans slightly when you move off of him, oblivious and exhausted as you redress hastily beside him, pulling your jeans back up your legs and over your hips, slipping your shoes on and readjusting your shirt, shaking him gently when you fear he might have passed out right there in the back of your car.

“Frankie,” You call out, saying his name a few more times before you call out, one last time, “Francisco, hey.”

His eyebrows raise in question, a subtle smile on his lips as he peeks an eye open to look at you.

“I really need to get home,” You tell him, laughing half-heartedly at his drunken stupor, “you’ve gotta go.”

Frankie seems to realize then that he can’t drag this out any longer, redressing himself slowly as he climbs out of the car, watching you fiddle with your shirt and your appearance, trying to not look like you just got fucked in the backseat of your car.

He seems to notice the slight dismay on your face, knowing that your lives were diverting down different paths, but this was still the present. Now. And he was still here.

He presses you into the driver’s side door and kisses you then, hands crawling up the side of your neck and caressing the curve of it, dipping his tongue past your lips and really stealing your breath away, moaning into your mouth like you were the greatest thing he’s ever tasted.

You pull away regrettably when you feel him start to ramp up again, “Good luck on your test, by the way.” You tell him honestly, “You can text me the good news when you pass.”

Frankie chuckles, “I will.” There’s a long pause and then he’s speaking again, the few words you weren’t sure you wanted to hear, “Can I see you again?”

The hesitance is obvious on your face and it kicks Frankie down a peg, but he gets it. He wasn’t a boyfriend, barely even a friend. But, he was still hopeful.

“Maybe.” You offer, “I mean—you still have my number. I’m just a text or call away, you know.”

Frankie couldn’t admit that you were the only thing getting him through this summer without relapsing or making another misstep, that wasn’t your burden. But, the weight on his heart is heavy and his own to bear, welcoming the hug you offer him immediately and squeezing you so tight you might break, but of course, you don’t. 

And he thinks that if he showed up broken, in pieces, that you would know exactly how to piece him back together, but he hoped that never happened. That maybe you might manage to escape him and he wouldn’t drag you down with him.

“Goodbye, Frankie.” 

He smiles and nods, settling his hat back on his head as he steps away.

You leave soon after, not sure why this sudden dark cloud is looming over you.

Frankie never texts you about his test and the texts you send in the aftermath are never responded to—and eventually you give up, feeling like an idiot for being hopeful in the first place.

↝ beta: @chaotic-mystery

↝ divider credit: yours truly.

[solarsturniolo]

Pugs ‘N’ Kisses // M.S. // PROLOGUE

By Natalie 💋

Summary: Matt has always been the one person you can count on. Whether it be for advice or a holiday event, he always knew how to take care of you. There's nothing he wouldn't do for you.

Other Parts: Chapter One,

Warnings: Smut / Stalking / Voyeurism / Cursing / Obsessive Behavior / Possessive Behavhior / Minors DNI

You never really thought much of it.

Ever since you became friends with him, Matt had always been a sweetheart to you. Opening doors for you, kicking his brother’s ankle if he tried to take the booth seat, driving you everywhere you could possibly want to go; no matter the circumstance, Matt was always someone you could rely on, and he made that clear. He invited you to any outings that he and his brothers attended. He spent hours helping you build that matching furniture set for your bedroom, insisting that he could do it all himself for you. He made himself available for you whenever you needed him. 

Matt made an impression on everyone in your life, and a good one at that. He would help your mom set the table on nights when he was invited for dinner, and he would happily do the dishes once everyone was finished. He was a schmoozer, a charmer. From asking how her day was to empathizing with her frustration with whatever meaningless squabble happened at work with Theresa that works in the next cubicle over. He knew just the right questions to ask and just the right emotions to express on his face. He’d send you a smile across the table, reminding you that he still had his attention on you. One time you were almost sure that he winked at you, something the group chat heard plenty of that evening once he had left, though after some evaluation you assumed it must’ve just been a trick of the light.

After dinner, your mother would always insist on putting a movie on for everyone to watch. A desperate attempt to make you all seem like a normal family in front of your guest, though anyone with half a brain could see through it. You would try to weasel out of it, but Matt would just smile and tell you ‘I don’t mind,’ which was all you needed to give in. Halfway through, every single time, your father would notoriously begin to critique whatever had been put on. It was very easy for Matt to get on your father’s good side, all he had to do was agree with everything he would bitch and moan about. ‘The quality is garbage,’ he would grunt, and Matt would reply ‘It’s like it was recorded on an iPhone 4’ to which your father would laugh and playfully punch his shoulder. ‘This kid knows what’s up,’ he’d approvingly remark, spending the rest of the film making little jabs at the movie with Matt following him up in agreement. 

The biggest impression he had made, and the most important in his eyes, were your friends. Of course your parents’ approval mattered, but they didn’t know the real you, not the way your friends did. Granted, it took a lot of work. They were certain that he and any other human with a dick and balls were bad news. Fair enough, he thought. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, he knew it would take a lot of time and effort. But you are worth that. It had taken almost a year to get your friends one hundred percent on the Matt bandwagon, but he really sealed the deal on your birthday. 

He greeted you at your house that afternoon with a gorgeous floral arrangement in a beautiful glass vase. He knew your friends would be over, he was betting on it. They all watched with envy glossed over their eyes as you admired the beautiful arrangement, and while you were happily distracted, to not take the attention off of you on your special day of course, he brought in three much smaller bouquets; one for each of your friends. From that moment forward, everyone was team Matt. Your parents and friends would ask about him regularly. “When is Matt coming over again?” “You and that Matt boy still friends?” “You should invite Matt!” 

It felt good. Being liked by all of the closest people in your life was important to him. It gave him leverage, access to more sides of you than just what you showed him. He got to see your girly side with your friends, and he got to see your more domestic side with your family, though his favorite side of you was when you were with him. Just him. Not him and your friends, not him and your parents, not him and his brothers. Him.

You had to admit, that was your favorite side of yourself as well. Something about him, maybe it was his aura, maybe it was his horoscope chart, or maybe he was just the first decent guy you had ever gotten close with, but something about him made you feel at ease. He didn’t give you butterflies, instead he made all of the noise and static go quiet. Your hands never shook as long as he was holding them. Your body never felt cold as long as he was next to you. It was a weird feeling; A good feeling, but weird. You had never felt this way about another person before. 

Matt felt the same way. Any day that he got to spend with you was a good day. Any day that he got to speak to you or see your face was a good day. Any day that you made an appearance of any kind became a good day. Summer nights running down the beaches of Cape Cod, rainy days cooped up in your bedroom listening to your favorite vinyl records, late nights sending Game Pigeon games back and forth for hours. It didn’t matter what you did together, it only mattered that he got to do it with you. 

The only thing that mattered to him was you. 

a/n: Welp…good luck yall. @flowerxbunnie and I already planned out this entire story.

Tags: @flowerxbunnie @mattslolita @mattsbratt69 @oversturn @simplysturn @soursturniolo @megamett44-lover @sturnybabes @jjmaybankswifes-blog @plasticferal @cupidsword @liz-stxrn @sturniolosreads @sturnioloskies @bernardsleftbootycheek @egirlshit @matthemunch44 @nonamegirlxsturniolo @chrizz333 @sturniolopowers @mattsleftnipple03 @worldlxvlys @hearts4chris @tillies33ssss @janiellasblog @creamoncreamoncream2 @breeloveschris @meg-sturniolo @ellie-luvsfics @mattsfavwh3re @lustfulslxt @braindead4l @xtravrgnoliveoil @ghostlythinggoingaround @taekwite @leah-loves-lilies @querenciasturniolo @whicked-hazlatwhore @lacysturniolo @sara2233445

[l0velysmut]

Can you please write Neteyam with readers as Enemies to Lovers? with smut and he says he's loved readers for a long time.Please I really love your writing.

neteyam x fem!omaticaya!reader

contains: enemies to lovers (but ur not really enemies), stalker neteyam, kinda manipulative neteyam if u squint???, love confession, virginity loss, tsaheylu, p in v, creampie, poorly written !!!

wc: 2.8k unedited

na’vi words: skxawng = moron/idiot.

a/n: sorry if this isn’t what you expected!

Ever since the first time Neteyam laid eyes on you, he had been head over heels in love with you. But he didn’t like that he felt that way about you, so what better way to cover it up then by hating you more than anyone else in the clan?

You were so confused when you were the only person he would target and make fun of. To the public eye, he was nice, athletic, a charmer, and overall the golden boy of the clan. And not only was he the future Olo’eyktan, but he was also the son of Toruk Makto, which in your opinion, made it even worse and even more embarrassing whenever he would bully you. So, you’ve stood up for yourself the best you could.

But the truth was, he never enjoyed bullying you. He never enjoyed calling you degrading names like stupid or meaningless. In fact, he called himself stupid on the regular for starting a hateful pattern towards you and having no choice but to stick with it.

Every day he saw you, he wanted nothing more then to tell you how he truly felt, but he couldn’t just stop being mean to you out of the blue. You’d think something was up and that he was pranking you, so he just kept doing what he’d been doing since you were children.

He watched you from afar, doing your daily chores and sticking to the routine you had forged to keep yourself busy. Neteyam kept note and even followed you from a distance just to see where you were going, and he even kept track of who you talked to.

He had memorized your schedule, so if anyone just so happened to ask him where you were, all he had to do was figure out the time and then he’d know.

But today, you were doing something different. You were going somewhere he was unfamiliar of.

So, with a quick glance around to make sure no one was paying attention to him. He discarded what he was doing, and followed you discreetly, being far away enough for you to not realize he was there. He ran up a tree and jumped from vine to vine and tree to tree, following you from above and watching like an ikran hunting its meal.

And soon enough, you came to a stop, but Neteyam’s brows furrowed when he saw the stature of another man. He hears you laugh, and you take hold of another man’s hands. He watched through the green vines, glaring at the man he knew very well from training.

His name was Eaopu, and from what Neteyam could see from training, he had nothing to offer you. He was lazy, and couldn’t tell his left from right. Neteyam was in disbelief that you went out of your way to see this man, deep in the middle of the forest. Neteyam could feel his chest tighten as his mind raced with numerous thoughts of just marching over there and bashing Eaopu’s head in then making you his, but obviously he couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him because, afterall, you two were enemies and he couldn’t let you find out that he was basically stalking you and had been for years.

Neteyam watched as Eaopu pushed your dark, unbraided hair behind your ear, leaning in to whisper what he could only imagine was something dirty by the lustful look on his disgusting face.

“Eaopu,” Neteyam hears you say in an almost angry tone. “You know I don’t do that stuff. I’m waiting until marriage.”

“Oh, c’mon. We both know you won’t be mated any time soon,” Eaopu replied, grasping your forearm. “Why not just get it out of the way?”

Neteyams nostrils flare and his eyes darken as he listens to the conversation.

“Because! I want it to be special.” You tell him, pushing his chest to back him away from you, but he doesn’t budge. And Neteyam then knows what Eaopu’s intentions were with you. Leading you out into the deep forest to try to convince you to have sex with him, knowing how adamant you were on not having sex until marriage. Neteyam knew Eaopu was strong, so there’d be no way for you to get away if Eaopu tried what Neteyam feared.

“So then why’d you even meet me here? Huh?! Was this your plan this whole time? Get me all excited and leave me with blue balls?” Eaopu yelled, his voice echoing throughout the empty part of the forest you two were in.

You stare at Eaopu in disbelief as he backs you up against a tree. Neteyam then knew he had to step in.

The future Olo’eyktan jumped down from the tree and marched over to the scene, pushing back Eaopu’s shoulder, causing him to flinch.

“N-Neteyam!” Eaopu’s eyes widened, and he was taken aback by Neteyam’s sudden appearance. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh, really?” Neteyam knew he didn’t have to say much in order for Eaopu to surrender in fear and walk away. When he had done so, Neteyam turned to you, back against the rough bark of a tree.

“You okay?” He asked you, observing your body language.

“I don’t need your protection.” You say, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes. You were grateful, but you still quote on quote “hated” him so you had to keep that going.

“Hey, I just saved your ass from whatever he was about to do to you!” Neteyam shouted, arm pointed to where Eaopu had left.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t need you to save me! I can save myself.” You argue, and he chuckles.

“This is unbelievable.” He shakes his head, placing his hands on his hips. “I follow you out here, and save you from him, and you start-“

“You followed me out here?!” You cut him off and he freezes, lips parted. He tried to think of things he could say to get out of this.

“N-No, no. I didn’t follow you out here. Please.” He scoffed. “Why would I want to follow you, of all people? That’s ridiculous.” He defended himself, and you raised your hairless brows.

“Oh, yeah? So then how’d you get to save me just in time?” You ask, arms still crossed as you take a step towards him.

“I was hunting!” He defended once again, arms outstretched for a moment before falling to his side.

“Really? Where’s your bow and arrow?” You question.

He knew you had him, and he sighed in defeat, ears folded against his braids. “Okay, okay, fine. Yes, I followed you. But don’t let it get to your head, you skxawng. I just wanted to make sure you were safe.” He admitted, his eyes not missing the way your lips quirked up slightly.

You stay silent, feeling your cheeks burn up. Your heart thumped against your chest like a rock being tossed against your skin from the inside, and you looked away.

“Thanks. I guess.” You say in a soft tone, glancing at him when he steps forward.

“You're welcome.” He replies, and both of you are silent for a few moments before he breaks it.

“Listen, I…” He starts, but doesn’t know how. “I don’t want to hate each other anymore.”

His words make you stare at him, brows furrowed. “Hey, you’re the one that started it. What did I ever do to you, anyway? Y’know, since we’re here all alone, you might as well tell me. None of your friends are around to influence you, so please. Enlighten me.”

He opens his mouth then closes it, and he sighs again. “You never did anything to me, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“You never did anything to me. I suppose I started picking on you because..” He breathes in deeply before admitting his feelings to you. “I really liked you, and I didn’t know how to go about it because I was young, and dumb. But over the years, I just started liking you more and now I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do because I was a bully and I made you hate me and I don’t think we could be anything more the enemies and it hurts my soul every time we go at each others necks because it’s not what I want! I just want…” He runs his fingers around his mouth. “I just want you.”

Your eyes are wide as you listen to his rambling, and you swallow to relieve your dry throat. He just opened his heart to you, revealing that all this time when he made fun of you and humiliated you, he actually was just in love with you.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know why I dropped this on you. I should go.” He says when you just stand there and stare at him, but as he’s about to walk away, you grab his wrist and smash your mouth against his.

He melts into the kiss, his heart melting along with it. He brings his hand up to cup your cheek and his other hand to hold your waist. This is what he’s wanted for years. He’s wanted so badly to feel your lips against his; he’s spent years just imagining it.

When you pull away, your faces stay close and you can feel his warm panting against your lips. He pressed his forehead to yours and you whispered, “I want you, too.”

His eyes close briefly with a smile stretching across his lips, and he kisses you again.

“Then be mine. Forever.” He whispers against your plump lips, and you pull away slightly. When he sees your reaction, he’s quick to drop to his knees and lean his forehead on your lower stomach, hugging your thighs. “Please, Y/N. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this; how long I’ve wanted you. Do you know how many women I’ve turned down all because I was stuck on you?” He looks up at you, amber eyes filled with an emotion you’ve never seen on Neteyam.

His eyes were glossy and he looked up at you with pure desperation. He would never force you to do something you didn’t want to, but if you truly wanted him, then you two would come to an agreement.

“Neteyam, this is so sudden… and besides, you’ve said it yourself, no one would ever want to mate with me-“ He cuts you off and stands up, cupping your cheeks.

“No, no, no, no, I was lying, I was just saying that, I’m sorry.. I never meant anything I’ve ever said about you.” He tried to reassure you, and you stared at him, not quite knowing what to do.

“You want me, too, right?” He asked, and you nodded, putting your hands on his shoulders.

He takes your hands in his and gently brings you both to the ground on your knees in front of each other. He decided to sit and have a long talk with you about everything, and you both opened your hearts to each other. Tears spilled, and laughter filled the part of the forest you two were in, but eventually you came to an agreement.

That’s how you ended up underneath him, his bare body grinding against yours. You two had finally connected after years of covered up desire, and now you were one for all of eternity.

Neteyam couldn’t describe the feeling of being mated with you in words, he could only feel how amazing and euphoric it felt for your souls to be intertwined.

You two breathed heavily, gasping and panting between kisses as Neteyam pushed into you, his cock pulsing in his hand as he breached you for the first time. You hissed at the pain of being stretched out this much for the first time, and he could feel it through the bond. He could feel your pain, but also your burning desire to get past it the best you could.

“Are you alright?” He asked in a voice you’d never thought you’d hear him talk in. He has bottomed out inside of you, and remained very still while hovering over you, his arms holding himself up at either side of your head, caging you.

He tried so hard to not pull back and pound into you like his gut was telling him to, but he wanted to listen to his heart and his mind, and he wanted to wait until you were ready.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Ju-Just go slow.” You tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulled out about an inch and then pushed in. This feeling was so new for the both of you. The way your pussy enveloped around his cock tightly made his head dizzy, and the way his cock penetrated you and hit spots inside of you that you didn’t think could be reached made your brain feel all gooey.

He kissed your jaw, and pulled out more, then back in, searching for any sign of discomfort through the bond. He fortunately found nothing within the shared connection, and slid in and out of you faster.

You place a hand down at his abs, trying to tell him to go slower because you weren’t quite ready, and he groaned before slowing down. He wanted to pound you like an animal, but he wanted you to feel good, too. He didn’t want to hurt you, not anymore. He wanted to protect you forever, and he didn’t want anyone to walk all over you anymore. Now, he would protect you like a mate should.

“Oh, great mother.” You whine, throwing your head back and clenching around him even tighter then before. He didn’t even know it was possible for him to be inside something so wet and tight.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on you for so long, I should’ve told you I loved you a long time ago.” He said softly in your ear and his hips rocked back and forth. “I regret everything from before- fuck… I regret not taking you as mine since the moment I realized I was in love with you.”

You couldn’t speak, you felt like everytime his bulbous tip hit that spongy part inside of you that felt particularly good, the air left your lungs. You struggled to form a coherent thought as his cock fucked you dumb. You never knew your enemy's cock could feel this good; though, you’re not enemies anymore.

Neteyam supported his weight on one arm while the other reached down to play with the small nub he's thought so many times about sucking and rubbing. He rubbed tight circles on your clit, making your back arch into him, your chest pressing against his.

“You’re so pretty,” He whispered, kissing your cheek and then pecking your lips. “So beautiful.”

You wanted to thank him, but you knew he could hear it in his mind.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum already.” He murmured, whining loudly when his cock twitched. He felt a burning sensation throughout him, and you grind your hips back against his, helping him reach his orgasm as well as reaching your own high.

“M-Me, too, I think.” You say, panting and moaning. He rubbed your clit faster, and you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, pulling his cock further inside of you.

You both cum at the same time, your orgasms sending tingles throughout both of your bodies that twitched and spasmed against each other. Neteyam’s hips continued to grind as he spilled inside of you, and you could feel his cum sloshing around inside of you. You closed your eyes at the feeling, and your hips jerked at the stimulation.

“That was…” Neteyam started talking to praise you, but he couldn’t wrap his head around how good it felt. He never thought he would actually be able to get you to be his, he always just thought he fucked up his oppurtunity to be with you, but now that he had you, he was never going to let you go for as long as you two lived.

He was going to worship you and never say anything mean to you ever again until his dying days.

He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and remained inside of you. You hug him tightly, inhaling his scent. Then, he rolled over to lay next to you, pulling out of you slowly with a pop! sound.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you close, your nude bodies pressed against each other as your limbs tangled before finally sleeping. He knew his father would be looking for him, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything else or any other responsibilities. He only cared about you now.

[sidekick-hero]

I've got a ghost in the hallway grinning

Written for @steddieangstyaugust day 2, prompt: ghosts. Title from Euclid by Sleep Token.

Tags: Ghost!Eddie, Angst with a happy ending (!), childhood friends, canon divergence

words: 1.7k | AO3 | teen

"You are such a charmer, big boy. Oh, wow, your eyes are so blue; it's like looking at the ocean. I can't believe she let you get to second base after that line."

"Oh, please, what do you know? How many second bases have you been to?"

Eddie recoiled at Steve's words, and Steve immediately wanted to kick himself. That was a low blow, even for him. Eddie's constant teasing about his dates always got under his skin. It’s why he mostly stopped bringing girls over, but Megan had insisted they couldn’t go to her place because her mom was always home. She didn't want to risk getting caught in his car.

So he brought her home to let his house ghost judge his moves.

What was his life, anyway?

Despite his irritation, Eddie was his best friend, alive or not, and Steve didn’t want to hurt him.

"Shit, Eddie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

"But you did, Steve. And you're right. I haven't even kissed anyone. All I know is from those cheesy movies you secretly watch."

Steve gave Eddie a faint smile. "Oh my God, that was once. Maybe twice. And no one was supposed to know."

Eddie looked up at him, his big brown eyes still sad. "Who would I even tell? You're the only one who can see me. Don't worry your pretty head, Stevie, I'll take all your secrets to my grave."

Now it was Steve's turn to look sad, all his earlier giddiness from making out with Megan gone.

"This isn't funny, man." Steve's voice broke, and that finally snapped Eddie out of his strange mood.

Eddie approached, hand hovering over Steve’s arm, like he wanted to touch but couldn’t. Steve knew he couldn’t.

Eddie couldn’t touch him because Eddie was a ghost. He was dead, with no body to touch Steve with. They had tried, when they first met, and several times since. It never worked, just a cold whisper against his skin, but nothing substantial.

"Sorry," Eddie mumbled, looking contrite.

"It's fine. I just want to be alone for a bit, though. Please."

"Sure, Stevie. I’ll just… go, I guess. See you later?"

Steve forced himself to smile at Eddie to show him everything was okay between them. "Yeah, definitely. We still have to watch the new Star Wars movie, right?"

"Right. Just call when you're ready, and I'll see if I can fit you in."

With that, Eddie disappeared to wherever ghosts go when they’re not here. Steve still had no idea how it all worked, just that Eddie always came when he called.

The one time he didn’t, after a particularly bad fight—the worst they’d ever had—Steve had a panic attack. He had been alone at the time, as had become more and more usual for him. It was the only time Steve swears he felt Eddie, who had hugged him as tight as he could, begging him to ‘breathe, Stevie, please, just breathe, pleasepleaseplease.’

After that, Eddie had always been there as soon as Steve said his name, even when they were fighting.

Steve lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

He wondered what had changed between him and Eddie, when it stopped being so easy. He had known Eddie since he was six years old, when his parents and he moved into this house.

It was a hot summer day, and Steve had been hiding in his room, playing with his toy cars, when a voice behind him startled him. “What’re you doing there?” the voice had asked, and when Steve turned around, a little boy around his age was standing behind him.

They both had been lonely up until they met. Steve, a shy boy in a new neighborhood, found it hard to make friends. Eddie, a ghost with no memory of how he died, had been wandering the house for what felt like an eternity. They became best friends quickly, finding solace in each other's company. Strangely, Eddie seemed to grow up alongside Steve, his ghostly form aging in tandem with Steve’s living body.

They played together, laughed together, and shared secrets no one else would understand. Eddie was there for Steve’s first day of school, his first crush, and his first heartbreak. They spent countless nights talking about their dreams and fears, their bond growing stronger with each passing year. Despite the oddity of their friendship, it felt natural to them—an unbreakable connection that transcended the boundaries of life and death.

But lately, something had shifted. The effortless camaraderie they once shared now felt strained. Steve couldn’t pinpoint when it started, but he missed the easy days of their childhood when everything made sense and nothing seemed impossible.

Steve knew that it wasn’t just Eddie who was responsible for the new tension between them. It was Steve who had fallen in love with his dead friend.

It all started when he was thirteen. He had woken up to the strange feeling of being watched, and when he opened his eyes, he caught Eddie leaning over him, his translucent lips pressed against Steve’s. Before he could try to kiss back, Eddie had jumped away.

Eddie had apologized profusely, telling Steve he’d just been curious. He said it always looked so magical in the movies when people kissed, and he wanted to know what it was all about. Nothing more—it didn’t mean anything.

Too bad it meant a great deal to Steve. It had been his first kiss, and he didn’t even feel it.

A week later, when he kissed Tina to see if it would cause the same flutter of butterflies in his stomach, Eddie had caught them. Steve would never forget the look on his face.

Steve had apologized, even though he didn’t know what he’d done wrong—just that Eddie was hurting, and it was somehow his fault.

Eddie had been cold and distant, acting aloof and laughing in Steve’s face. He mocked him, saying he was already training to become a man-whore, asking if he’d kiss anything with a pulse and without.

That had been their first fight, and even though they made up afterward, things started to change.

The room was dimly lit, the glow from the TV screen casting flickering shadows on the walls. Steve and Eddie were sprawled on the couch, watching the latest Star Wars movie. Despite the tension between them, movie nights had remained a cherished ritual.

Steve’s dating life had become the elephant in the room, a sore topic between them that neither he nor Eddie wanted to address.

As the film progressed, a romantic scene between Leia and Han Solo unfolded. The characters on screen leaned in for a kiss, and Steve felt a familiar pang in his chest. He glanced at Eddie, who was watching intently, his expression unreadable.

The scene ended, and Steve felt the words bubbling up before he could stop them. "You know," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wish I could have felt it when you kissed me."

Eddie turned to him, his translucent form shimmering slightly. "Steve, I—"

"I know you were just curious," Steve interrupted, his eyes fixed on the screen. "But it meant something to me. It was my first kiss, and I wanted it to be you, but I also wanted to feel it."

Eddie’s expression softened, a mixture of regret and sorrow in his eyes. "I’m sorry, Stevie. I didn’t know it would mean so much to you. I never wanted to hurt you. That’s the last thing I ever wanted."

Steve sighed, leaning back against the couch. "I know. It’s just… I’ve thought about it a lot. Wondered what it would have been like if you were—if you weren’t—"

"If I weren’t dead," Eddie finished for him, a bitter smile on his lips.

"Yeah," Steve admitted, feeling a lump form in his throat. "If you were alive, things might have been different."

Eddie moved closer, his ghostly presence sending a chill down Steve’s spine. "I wish things were different too," he said softly. "But I’m still here, Stevie. Maybe not in the way you want, but I’m here."

Steve turned to face Eddie, their eyes locking. "I know. And I’m grateful for that. It’s just hard sometimes, knowing what we could have had."

When Steve meets Eleven, he's trying to protect the kids—his kids, in a weird way—from monsters that came from another dimension. A ghost he’s in love with living in his house is no longer the strangest thing happening in his life.

They sat in silence for a moment, the movie playing on in the background, both lost in their thoughts.

When El and Chief Hopper disappear inside the lab to close the portal, they all listen in through the walkie Dustin insisted El take with them.

They hear her scream, they listen to her win, and then the tearful cheering from her and Hopper.

"You did it, Kiddo. I knew you could do it. Come on, let’s get outta here," Chief Hopper says, sounding prouder than Steve's dad ever did. But then again, Steve never saved the world, so maybe that’s fair.

His heart stops at El’s next words.

"Wait, Dad. We need to save Eddie first."

Eddie.

We need to save Eddie first.

"Who’s Eddie?" Hopper asks, and Steve snatches the walkie from Dustin, not wanting to miss a single word.

"He's another boy like me, but he's asleep. Always asleep. They somehow take his energy from him to power their weird experiments. I don’t know how it works, just that he’s lying in this room all alone. We can’t leave him here, Dad. We can’t."

Steve’s mind races, trying to process what he’s hearing. Could it be the same Eddie? His Eddie?

"Eddie," Steve murmurs, gripping the walkie tighter. "Eddie, if you can hear me, we're coming for you. Hold on."

The group falls silent, the gravity of El's revelation sinking in. Steve's heart pounds in his chest, hope and fear swirling inside him. The ghost he loves might not be a ghost at all, but a boy trapped in a nightmare, waiting to be saved.

[prollywolly]

Meeting The Family [S. Gojo]

summary: part of what lured you into satoru's arms was his wit and his charm. little do you know, he uses the same tricks on your family when he first meets them. and it works.

warnings: just gojo being a charmer.

word count: 1k words

a/n: hihi everyone! so sorry about the inactivity. i've been pretty busy with work, but i'm just now finding my groove of writing again. i've put my miguel o'hara story on hold until i can get my notes together and assemble the first actual chapter. for now, enjoy this jjk brainrot that came to me at work today:) thank you for understanding!

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

meeting your family was the next step in yours and satoru's relationship. your family was important to you and he understood that meeting them meant that you trusted him enough to bring your relationship to this level.

the second you rang the doorbell, satoru turned to look down at you. he didn't seem like he was nervous at all, but you knew that internally he was a bit skeptical of what your family would think of him. "oh my goodness! i'm so happy to see you!" your mom welcomed you with open arms, smiling brightly as she embraced you.

"you must be y/n's older sister," satoru smirked, outstretching his hand for her to shake.

your mom's eyes widened and her cheeks flushed with a pink tint. she ran a hand through her hair and giggled at satoru's comment.

oh god, here we go.

"her sister? you're too kind! i'm her mother, it's nice to meet youuu..."

gojo smiled brightly and looked shocked. you stifled your laughter to the best of your ability as you watched your mother fawn over your boyfriend.

"satoru, so nice to finally meet you! i can't believe you're her mother,"

as your mom let the both of you inside, you were met with the rest of your extended family. as your mom introduced satoru to each family member, all of them couldn't help but marvel at the energy he emitted.

not to mention he was twice everyone's height.

as the evening went on, gojo had managed to earn favoritism amongst all of your family members. any playful banter that turned into slight bickering?

how could you talk to him like that, y/n?

he stood up to serve himself the dinner that your mom and grandmother worked so hard on?

how dare you not get up and serve your boyfriend!

satoru was no help at all to the onslaught of criticism you got.

"yeah, y/n. why are you being so mean to me?"

he looked up at you with puppy dog eyes, his bottom lip jutted out into a pout as you rolled your eyes and flicked his forehead.

all of these small comments may sound annoying, but to you? you were elated to see how much your family already liked him. tonight was the greenest of flags for approval and this is all that it meant to you.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

everyone was sat out in the backyard watching gojo fool around with your nieces and nephew. as you sipped on your water, your aunt broke the silence that sat between all of the women at the table.

"he's perfect for you, honey."

"if i was about thirty years younger, i'd definitely steal him from you,"

"grandma!" you exclaimed, all of the women at the table laughing heartily at her outburst.

you turned to look back at your boyfriend, smiling fondly as your two nieces clung to his legs. the smile that rested on his face as he stomped around with the two girls on his legs, desperately trying to chase after your nephew was something out of a movie.

he turned to you. just for a second. and you swore that you fell in love all over again. he tossed a quick wink your way before turning back to the kids, falling softly onto the grass as they all jumped on top of him.

"mina! get off that poor boy!" your aunt shouted at her daughter. "you're gonna hurt him!"

gojo waved off the worry in your aunt with a flick of his hand.

"oh, she's just playing! right, mina?"

the small girl nodded her head with the cutest pout you'd ever seen. gojo scrunched up his nose and laughed as the other two children grabbed his sunglasses and played with his hair.

"you seem like you're so happy with him," it was the most sincere your mom had been all night. "and he's good to you?"

you looked over at satoru and couldn't help the way your heart swelled at how gentle he was being with the kids.

"he gives me the world and more..."

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

"well it was nice to meet you, satoru! you're welcome back any time!"

gojo's eyes brightened and he gave your mother a charming smile. as your mother opened her arms to hug him goodbye, he stooped down to her height and gave her a small squeeze.

"i'll definitely be back for some more of that banana pudding you made tonight!~"

as your family waved goodbye from behind the door, satoru led you over to his car and opened the passenger side door for you.

your drive back home wasn't too long, but you could tell that he was just waiting to hear about what your family thought of him.

"they loved you 'toru," you chuckled, rubbing his hand with your thumb.

he squeezed your intertwined hand tightly and smacked the steering wheel with his other hand.

"i think they like me more than you, baby."

he took his bottom lip under his teeth and wiggled his eyebrows at you. with a light smack to his bicep he laughed off your slight annoyance.

"i'm never bringing you back ever again," you shook your head and stared out the windshield, watching the headlights of the car bounce back off the garage door of your house.

"that's too bad. i'll just text your mom and ask her when i need to show up!"

his phone illuminated with your mom's phone number, the contact name being 'mother in-law' as some sort of sick joke towards you.

"when did you get my mom's number?!"

gojo smirked and peered over his sunglasses to meet your eyes.

"right after i got your aunt's."

[lovebugism]

hi bug! could I request a fall back to school blurb with eddie and shy!reader, where he sticks up for reader in school against a bully? I love hurt/comforts!

ty for requesting lovely! this is sort of a part 2 for this drabble, but can be read as a stand-alone fic!! — eddie has a talk with jason when he finds out he's been messing with you again (mentions of bullying, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1.7k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie picks red and orange leaves from your hair. His touch is perfectly gentle despite the red-hot rage burning houses behind his ribcage. 

You’re a shaken-up mess in the back of his van. He knows Jason did something to you — you just won’t tell him what.

He pries, anyway, though, trying his best to keep a nonchalant air about him so you don’t shut down completely. Outside the open trunk, he stands in between your legs and takes care of you. It feels like human nature to do both.

“What happened, babe?” Eddie wonders with a forced laugh, plucking a brown stem from the crown of your head. He flicks it to the pavement below you. “Did he, like, trip you into a pile of leaves or something?”

He’s smiling so sweetly at you, but you know he’ll flip if you’re honest. 

You purse your lips to the side and shake your head, turning your glassy eyes to your swaying feet. 

“No, he…” you start, then exhale a trembling sigh. 

You don’t want to lie, but you don’t want to make it seem as scary as it feels. You twist your hands in your lap and ramble in a quiet confession. “I was walking to our picnic table to study, and he snuck up behind me, and I had my walkman on so I couldn’t hear him, and… I’m just— I’m just a baby, okay? It’s not a big deal.”

Eddie’s brows pinch as his face twists in something short of confusion. “Uh, yeah. It is,” he monotones, then scoffs out a laugh. “Honestly, I thought he knew better than to mess with you after what happened last time.”

He’s talking about that evening at the arcade — the last time you had the utter displeasure of running into the douchebag of Hawkins High. The whole “the only shooting Jason Carver does is into a kleenex” thing from when summer still felt like summer. 

Everything’s grayer now. And colder. 

You feel a lot of the same. 

You shoot Eddie a half-hearted glare at the memory he won’t let you live down. He meets it with a crooked, pink grin — your own personal sunshine when the real thing is hidden behind thick clouds. You melt for him all over again like you always do, feeling like a child as he plucks pieces of dead leaves from your hair.

“There,” he announces as he untangles a sizable yellow leaf from the strands. It floats down to his dirty sneakers. He cups your jaw in his abnormally warm hands and gives you one more once over. “I think that’s all of ‘em, babe.”

“Yeah?” you ask, just to be sure, as you smooth your palm over the back of your hair.

“Yep. You’re good as new. Beautiful like always.”

You roll your eyes with a poorly hidden smile. You’ve been together too long for him to flirt with you like he does. You wonder if he’ll ever stop, or if he’ll treat every day with you like it’s the very first.

“Always a charmer, huh?” you hum with a lovesick grin.

“For you,” the boy croons, leaning closer so he can press a kiss to your mouth. His rosy lips smack audibly against yours in a chaste peck that leaves you grieving the moment he’s gone.

The worn heel of Eddie’s sneakers scuff against the rocky concrete of the parking lot when he parts from you. He goes without a word. You watch him with a gaping look of bemusement.

“What— Where are you going?” you call to him, trying ignore the melodramatic twisting of your stomach. 

You’d already missed class — too shaken after seeing Jason and too needy for Eddie. You thought he might keep you company until next period. God knows he’ll take any excuse to ditch Mr. Kaminsky’s chem class.

Eddie turns back around to look at you but doesn’t stop inching towards the entrance. He shrugs his leather-clad shoulders with a cheeky grin. “Oh. You know. Just got regular business to attend to.”

You deflate. Regular business for Eddie Munson often means complete and utter chaos. 

“Don’t do anything stupid… Please.”

“Me?” Eddie scoffs, bringing a hand to his chest as though you’ve wounded him in some way. “Of course not!”

—————

Eddie roams the vacant halls of Hawkins High with his hands balled into fists. He’s got no intention of using them for evil — Yoda always said to use the Force for knowledge and defense, never for attack. They more so shake with the withheld fury of not being able to avenge you. 

What kinda boyfriend would be if some douchebag was fucking with his girl and he just let it happen?

Then he finds Jason in the empty corridor of the west wing. He comes out of the bathroom in all his muscled glory, dressed in baggy sweatpants and a too-fitted tank top, and it feels sort of kismet. 

If fate didn’t want Eddie to do something, fate wouldn’t have put the douchebag directly in his way, right?

“Hey, Jason!” Eddie lilts in a tone so chipper it has to be sarcasm. “What are you doing down here?”

Jason meets the boy’s wide grin with a look of bitter confusion. “None of your business, freak,” he bites in response, walking past the wild-haired brunette as though he wasn’t there at all.

“I beg to differ, tough guy.” The nickname spills from his mouth, coated in venom. “Everything you do became my business when you started messing with my girl.”

Jason’s gruff laughter fills the vacant hallway. He turns back around, flashing a pearly-white smile. “Wallflower’s still with you, huh?” he singsongs, then shrugs sympathetically. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little surprised to hear that.”

“Yeah. She is, actually,” Eddie nods with a beam. “As a matter of fact, we just went on a double date with Steve and Chrissy. Harrington told me to say hi, by the way.”

The blonde boy goes suddenly grim at the mention of the girl who got away. His thin-lipped smile ebbs into a frown. His chiseled features sharpen when his jaw clenches. “Watch it, freak.”

Those words stopped being threatening the first time he said them. After the millionth or more, it just got redundant. 

Eddie huffs, impatient and annoyed. 

“Alright. Here’s how this is gonna go, okay? Seeing as you’re a little toodense to listen when my girl told you to leave us alone, I’m gonna spell it out for you,” he monotones, inching towards the boy with his hands on his hips. “Either keep messing with us, and I crack that pretty face of yours, or you can leave to be a douchebag with a nice jawline another day… How’s that sound?”

A beat passes. 

A laugh sputters from Jason’s mouth a second later. 

Apparently, he finds Eddie’s newfound confidence as strange as it feels. He might be a loudmouth sometimes, but he’s certainly no fighter. And even though he knows this just as well as the next person, the anger of not being taken seriously stings like a searing knife in his chest.

“Oh, and I have razor blades hidden in my hair, by the way,” Eddie monotones, using his freakazoid reputation to his advantage. He smiles when Jason goes somber. “Yep. Mm-hmm. All up in there—”

“You’re fucking crazy, man,” the blonde boy scoffs, choosing not to call his bluff and walking away entirely.

Eddie waits until Jason turns the corner to let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. It trembles on the way out, forced through a tightening chest. He wipes his sweaty palms on his black ripped jeans — not a fighter, indeed.

“Razor blades?” a familiar voice calls from a little ways down the hall, accompanied by a soft giggle that sounds like heaven.

Eddie lifts his head and finds you walking towards him — turning the opposite corner that Jason had just left from. Your hands are tucked into the sleeves of the sweater that swallows you whole. You wrap your arms around yourself, making yourself as small as possible yet taking every ounce of his attention just the same.

With furrowed brows, his gaze darts between you and the empty corridor. “How did you…?” he asks, then trails off with a laugh. “I didn’t even know you were here.”

“I’m Wallflower, remember?” you grin, wearing the name people use to taunt you like armor. “I’m basically the queen of hiding in plain sight.”

“Yeah?” Eddie hums with a smirk. His smile widens when you inch closer to him.

You shrug. “It’s just a superpower. No big deal.”

His fingers curl around the outsides of your elbows when you’re standing toe-to-toe. His touch is warm and firm, but still gentle as he squeezes you. He rubs at your arms with his thumbs. 

“So…” he singsongs and tilts his head to the side, making his wild curls bunch at his shoulders. His chocolate eyes dance with sincerity and amusement. “What’d ya think?”

“I think you were very brave,” you answer honestly, but with an inflection that sounds like you’re teasing him.

Eddie’s gaze narrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“C’mon, Eds… You’re a nerd who plays D&D for twelve hours straight, and Jason lifts weights in his spare time.”

“You don’t think I could take him?”

“I know you couldn’t,” you retort, too sincerely for his liking. 

The sting in his chest ebbs when you uncurl your arms to splay your palms over his collarbones. Your smile sparkles, quite like the twinkle in your eye. 

“But you’d try. For me. And I, for one, think that’s very brave of you, Ser Munson.”

You’re right. About all of it. 

Eddie would fight for your honor like it was one of his Dungeons and Dragons campaigns. And he’d lose — quite miserably, probably — because what Jason Carver lacks in brains, he makes up twice in muscle. But you’d patch him up after, and it’d be worth it.

Instead of saying all that and stooping down to the sap you are, Eddie deflects with a joke. “Ooh,” he croons lowly. “Ser Munson, huh? I like the sound of that… We should save that one for later.”

You swat at him, but your softness lingers.

Eddie’s boyish laughter fills the vacant halls. His smile is too pretty not to kiss.

[mountainficss]

hi! who in svt would be more likely to be a camboy as a side gig/job? i feel like maybe seungkwan cause we all know he feels comfortable in front of the camera and is great at knowing what the public wants, or mingyu cause he loves showing himself off🤭 i initially thought about wonwoo cause he does gaming streams but he’s wayyyy to shy i feel like he would rather keep his intimate time private.

what do YOU think tho?

!! mentions of: exhibitionism, masturbation, nipple play, edging

hi there, my love! thank you so much for sending an ask :) that’s a great question! i honestly thought of wonwoo too (he’d be the most delicious camboy i swear), but i totally agree he’s way too shy.

i can absolutely envision seungkwan though! seungkwan is a literal charmer. that boy knows exactly what to say to bend people to his will and i love that about him. he seems to really enjoy being in front of people and showing off on camera too. just an exhibitionist overall. precious baby :) he’d love to set up his favorite camera when he’s home alone, adjusting it to the perfect angle so his viewers can see every inch of him. i think his favorite part of the entire camboy experience would be interacting with his viewers. he absolutely adores all the attention he gets from them, and reading through all the comments would make his cock throb even harder. would probably ask them questions just to read their reactions. “do you want me to go faster? would you like it if i edged myself? should i cum for you?” any time he speaks would send his viewers into a frenzy, and he’d eat up the attention in a heartbeat.

mingyu is also someone i can envision as a camboy! gosh have you seen that man? he’s literally the nation’s pretty boy. god body with a gorgeous face and beautiful smile. he’s just too perfect. and he knows he’s handsome too! he’s such a little show off. that’s why i think he’d be the perfect camboy <3 i can see him getting off on knowing people are admiring his body and face. he’d tease his viewers, stripping ever so slowly and showing off little inches of skin at a time. he’d like to keep his viewers on edge and wanting him. i think he’d adore that feeling of knowing he’s wanted, knowing that there are people drooling over him as they watch him from behind their screens. he’d be the absolute best at keeping people on their toes. wouldn’t have too fancy of a setup, would just prop his phone up somewhere and let the people flood in. during the entire session he’d have a little smirk on his face, head lolling and eyes rolling back in pleasure.

i feel like i have to add jeonghan to this list as well. you know how jeonghan is ugh. he’s such a little brat </3 always has that smug look on his face. i feel like jeonghan would be the type to be turned on if he knows he’s being watched. i think he’d like the excitement that comes from letting everyone see him in such a vulnerable state. he’d feel so exposed, but oh he’d love it. knowing that anyone and everyone that watches his videos can see him all horny and desperate would make him cum every time. just the thought of turning on his camera would give him a raging boner. and because people are watching him, that pretty boy would put on a show. moaning a little louder, dragging his fingers over his nipples to make his body jerk more often, edging himself close to tears. would also really like to roll his hips up into his fist with slow languid thrusts, showing his viewers how good he makes himself feel. would chuckle lightly at the needy comments, but never responds just to be a little meanie <3

and finally, i think jun would be a great camboy too! i’m not so sure what it is about jun, but i genuinely think he’d love being a camboy. he’s not as outgoing as other members, and he’s a bit quiet at times, but that wouldn’t stop him from putting on a show <3 i think he’d be a bit shy when he first starts out, maybe showing only up to his neck or mouth when he films. but once he gets into it? oh that boy is a menace. i think he’d really like to either film himself with his phone while he’s in bed, or turn on his webcam when his sits at his desk. some mornings he’d wake up throbbing and hard, and he wouldn’t hesitate to use that opportunity to reach for his phone and start recording. he’d love the lazy morning masturbation sessions, letting out gentle moans and whimpers as he stares at the screen with hooded eyes. looking through all of his dirty comments and good morning messages would bring him to his climax so quick, and that would be his favorite way to start his day.

taglist: @jeonghanpill , @bangantokchy , @caratboy , @bewoyewo , @luvseungcheol , @wonvsmile , @haolovre , @aaniag , @writingbarnes , @dokyeomkyeom , @allieyaaa

[slytherinboysappreciation]

We need more tom riddle and male reader. Like yall know tom is a charmer and the prince of Slytherin sort of stuff but then he found out abt this guy who is also prince-like from Hufflepuff (can be another house or wtv) and Tom's like "Hm, i wonder what's this guy's hiding, imma find out" so Tom did tryna find his secrets but when Tom use Legilimency, all he can found out are the reader thinking abt silly stuffs like "what kind of food i should try today" or "that guy's socks cool" or "shit, this flower's yellow, imma made it into a bookmark >:]" or "Imma dye my hair white using this spell i found from an old book from the restricted section, i wonder if this'll kill me– whatever" idk basically reader is a dumb typa guy who just... doing what he likes 😭 m sorry if this confusing lmao i tried my best to explain

Scatterbrained - T. R. x male!Reader

A/N: Hi, anon! Thank you so much for the request! I went with a more airheaded sort of approach so I hope that’s okay. I incorporated as much of your request as I could, and I hope you like it!

This is completely unedited, so please be nice! 💛 No use of Y/N. Sentences in italics are the reader’s thoughts. GIF is not mine; it was found on Pinterest, link here

Part 2 here

CW: Tom being a bit of a stalker; suspicion; nonconsensual thought reading; reader is just a bit of a scatterbrain; flirting; fluff; Tom being slightly emotionally aware; Tom is a little mean towards reader; kissing; Tom’s nefarious plots

1384 words

Tom Riddle was the Prince of Slytherin. Everyone knew it. Everyone respected it.

Even the Gryffindors, for all their talk of bravery, cowered when it came to confronting Tom.

He was the top of every class, the teachers’ favorite, the star Head Boy that everyone admired. All the girls wanted him. All the boys wanted to be him.

And then…

There was you.

Tom first met you in Herbology class in fourth year. You were almost unnoticeable at first. Just a languid, easygoing Hufflepuff boy with a warm smile and a friendly manner.

But more importantly, you were utterly unafraid of him. You’d even helped him care for his baby mandrake.

Tom was immediately intrigued. So he started following you around. Secretly, of course. But the more he follows you around, the more he starts to suspect.

You’re… too nice. The kind of guy to offer help and genuinely mean it. The kind of guy to help you with your homework and give you homemade cookies as a confidence booster.

Perhaps in mockery of Tom, the Hufflepuffs start calling you their prince. Prince of Hufflepuff. The boy who should be Tom’s rival, except you’re just so nice.

You have to be hiding something. No one is that nice normally. You have to have some hidden agenda. Some dark secret behind your sweet demeanor and comforting smile. Tom is sure of it.

Once fifth year starts, he comes armed with a secret weapon. The true key to figuring out your intents.

Legilimency.

Tom holds off at first, waiting for the perfect opportunity. And then… it happens.

You’re down by the Black Lake, picking flowers with your friends to make into bouquets for the prefects.

Tom watches as you laugh, as you playfully tease one of the girls. It makes his chest tighten and his jaw clench. Now is his moment, the perfect chance to truly find out what you’re thinking.

Tom silently casts the spell, causing you to wince and rub your forehead. He barely notices, too lost in the whirlwind of your thoughts.

Ow, my head…

Oh, I should grab those flowers. They’d be perfect for him…

She has cool socks…

I wonder if I can press that flower and make it into a bookmark…

Oooh, clovers! I wonder if there’s a four-leaved one…

Tom stops the spell, his head spinning.

You were so… scatterbrained.

Your head is full of fluff and nonsense. Tom can barely make sense of it all. He ends the spell, staggered by the revelation.

You have no ulterior motives. You’re so genuine because there’s no room in your head for anything otherwise.

Tom stares at you, lost. He doesn’t know what to do now. You’re not malicious or manipulative like him. You’re just… something else.

As you turn to grab a flower, you spot him. Instantly, your face brightens. A huge smile spreads across your face as you wave eagerly at him.

Tom slowly waves back.

You turn to say something to one of the girls. She nudges you, grinning. You rub the back of your head bashfully, and start heading up towards Tom.

He watches you, a bit surprised. You still have your bouquet of flowers, holding it out all nice and stuff.

On impulse, Tom casts Legilimency again. You immediately wince, but quickly shake off your pain.

Ouch, what is up with my head today?

No, focus! Be calm. Be cool. Be smooth…

Oh god, it’s him. He’s so perfect…

Compliment him somehow. Tell him he looks nice!

“Hi, Tom,” you smile warmly at him. “You look nice today.”

Tom’s cheeks warm against his will. “Thank you.”

Oh my god! Is he blushing? He’s blushing! He’s so cute…

Hurry, give him the flowers!

Merlin, he looks so cute…

Tom’s cheeks redden further. He awkwardly coughs into his fist, trying to quell the sudden thrill in his chest.

“Oh, um, here!” You hold out the bouquet of flowers. “I made this for you.”

Tom’s heart does an unfathomable flip-flop of excitement. He takes the bouquet gently, running his fingers over the colorful blossoms. Bluebells, white clover, twinflowers, and pink primrose. “For me?”

“Mhmm! I made it myself!”

Tom smiles, a small slight thing. But the way your thoughts explode at the sight of it makes it widen a bit more.

OH MY GOD!! He’s so cute!!

Look at his smile!!

God, I wanna kiss him so badly…

Mmm… kissing…

Tom panics a little, the mental images you’re coming up with overwhelming him. He stops the spell immediately, flustered and blushing.

“Thank you for the flowers,” he stutters out, tripping over his words in a way he wouldn’t have before.

You beam and nod. “Of course! I’m glad you like them.”

Then you walk back to your group, humming happily with the biggest smile on your face ever.

Tom gazes down at his bouquet and turns away, his heart thumping in his chest.

So you were a bit of an idiot, but somehow that didn’t bother Tom. He strolls back up to the castle, thinking deeply about you.

His reactions to you were… unexpected, but not particularly surprising. You were a handsome boy, after all.

Perhaps a different sort of investigation was required.

You seemed to like him quite a bit, and Tom isn’t opposed to the idea. But he’ll have to be quick going about asking you out.

Your kindness and genuineness haven’t been unnoticed by others, and Tom’s well aware that not everyone interested in you has the same intentions he does.

He’ll ask you out tonight, after dinner.

With that resolve in his mind, Tom enters the castle, a pep in his step.

Tom finds you in the library after dinner. You’re huddled over an old tome, muttering something under your breath. You’re so caught up in reading that you startle when Tom clears his throat.

“Oh! Tom! I didn’t see you there!” You beam up at Tom.

He gives you a thin smile back. “What are you reading?”

“Just some book I found in the Restricted Section.” You say blithely. You point to the page you’re looking at. “I found a spell for hair dyeing and wanted to try it out!”

Tom looks at the page. “Unicorn hair and ashwinder eggs? Where are you going to get those?”

You shrug. “I dunno yet. I’ll find them somewhere.”

Tom stares at you. “You’ll find them somewhere? You don’t just find ashwinder eggs and unicorn hair.”

You frown a little but shrug, clearly undeterred. “I’ll work something out.”

Tom sits down next to you, trying to comprehend the stupidity of your words. “You have a death wish.”

You blink and tilt your head. “I just wanna dye my hair, is all.”

Tom rubs at his face, forcing himself to stay calm. There’s no point in getting annoyed when he hasn’t even accomplished his goal yet.

With a subtle flick of his wrist, he casts Legilimency on you, bracing himself for the onslaught of unbridled thoughts.

He seems upset.

Oh, no. I gotta do something…

Quick, say something!

“Tom?” You ask softly.

He sighs and gives you a weak smile. “I’ll help you dye your hair using a safer spell.”

You brighten immediately. “You will?!”

Yes! I’ll finally have white hair again!

“On one condition.”

Oh.

You nod. “Okay…”

“I’ll help you dye your hair if you go to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow.”

Go to…

You tilt your head. “Like, on a date?”

Tom swallows. “Yes. On a date.”

Your thoughts explode with giddiness. Tom jolts a bit, ending the spell as his head aches from the force of your happiness.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes! I’ll go on a date with you!”

Tom relaxes and gives you a small but genuine smile. “Let’s go dye your hair then.”

He gets up, but pauses. On impulse, he leans down and gives your cheek a slight kiss. You’re frozen in your seat for a moment, stars in your eyes. Then you scramble to your feet and follow after him.

There’s no doubt you’ll be his now. And then he, and only he, will be able to enjoy your sweet stupidity.

He finds himself inwardly grinning at the thought. A date at Hogsmeade is only the first step. Soon, he’ll make you his perfect, scatterbrained boyfriend.

And then he’ll be unstoppable.