#when people close to me made jokes it sucked. and then we people in my school would speculate it was humiliating

[pumpkinrootbeer]

okay when i say i need people to be normal about billie eilish coming out and to stop making "we always knew!" "lmaoo old her would be so mad if she saw herself now" jokes it's not because im grabbing a sword for every gay millionaire but because it's weird to make those jokes about ANY gay person. especially young gay people who very recently came out. who, even, were forced and pressured to come out. be normal 🗞️🗞️🗞️

[inkskinned]

i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

[kameyyy]

#recs

this didn’t fit anymore lmao😭

try again

part 0.11. HERE TO STAY

“on the other side of the wall, she’s listening to her client with a smile on her face. she’s a professional; she’s been trained to multitask and take notes while still listening and providing feedback to her clients. right now, she’s clicking off a tab back to the one filled with bullet points on things her client has said. she always knows when he arrives. she hears the left door open, which she knows because it squeaks more than the one on the right. he always uses the left door (she thinks it has something to do with the fact that more people touch the handle of the right door on their way in) and his paces are always steady down the creaky hallway. her last sign that he's here is the chair he sits in every time, the one right next to the door into her rooms. the legs are the slightest bit uneven and the back of the chair will lightly tap against the wall as its way of letting her know of her welcome guest. she already has her queue of songs up. she’s always hated her thin walls until he started coming in. a lot has changed in her life since he's come back, hasn't it?"

content warnings: the big finale which isn't that dramatic! i'm sorry for my bad writing! y/n dad reveal! breaking news: her dad is an asshole! tad bit of violence, one mention of blood and also just cursing and abusive fathers </3

he insists on paying and she doesn’t argue with him about it for long; she’ll have countless more opportunities to steal the check from him, she hopes.

she feels better when she's finally eaten after a day of nervous nausea and time spent anxiously bouncing her knee. on top of that, she’d been with him for the majority of the day, distracting her from what had happened in the morning. he even listened to her issues, and she’s finally starting to believe the promise that he’s here to stay. 

they’ve just stepped off the train, and her apartment building is only a few minutes away. he walks alongside her the entire time, their arms brushing each other ever so often. whether it’s on purpose or not, neither of them will fess up.

he’s only distracted from his time spent mindlessly reaching his arm out just the slightest bit more to hit hers ever so often when he feels a buzz in his pocket. he slips out his phone quickly to check its screen:

akaashi’s a moment too late, because they’ve just made it up the stairs to her floor.

she’s already seen him, and he’s already seen her.

she wants to puke. 

he’s there, arguing with iwaizumi outside their door. his sunken eyes and gaunt face make her stomach twist with guilt, but a brush from omi’s knuckles reminds her where she is again. it’s not her job to take care of him. it never was, and it never will be.

"you," the man is pointing a finger towards her, stumbling forward and she immediately shrinks back like a shriveling flower, losing her confidence. omi's already standing in front of her without even thinking about it, putting a barrier between the two.

the old man keeps talking as if he can see right through him, though “you’re a disrespectful worthless piece of shit, you know that? can’t ever in your life put even a single person about yourself. here you are living with a bunch of boys. what are you, a whore? do you suck them off so they’ll keep the bad guys away? they’re doing a shit job at it. i’m standing here after, all, aren’t i?”

“it’s not like that,” her voice is quiet and weak, and she’s not even sure it makes it to the man’s ears.

“you can’t think about anyone else. you're too selfish. you won’t even answer your own father’s calls much less say anything to him at all–”

“i told you to back off!” her voice comes out loud this time, louder than she means for it to, “i’ve told you to back off so many times but you just don’t listen,” she steps out from behind omi, standing next to him instead while the man in front of them stops at the sound of her voice, “these are my roommates and my closest friends. i'm living with them because they genuinely care about me and aren't using me for any purpose, something you can't even dream about. the only reason you’re still standing here is that they have enough self-control and respect for me that they won't beat up the man i regrettably call my father.”

omi’s gaze slides over to hers, trying to see if she’ll meet his eyes. he’s simultaneously trying to communicate how proud of her he is and let her know that he'll support her no matter what happens. 

“take that back,” her father spits, starting to curl his fingers into a fist. she stays silent, and his face begins to flush an angry red. “you’re only proving my point. you’re just an ungreatful little girl who thinks she no longer has to care about anyone else because she's older. i took care of you your whole life and i will not have you ignoring me for the rest of my fucking life!” the smell of beer invades her senses as he steps closer.

“you did jackshit in my life! you never helped me with anything I asked you to. never bought me anything i needed, you've never cared about me. i’ve grown up and moved out. i can do whatever i damn please and i told you to leave me alone. maybe if you respected me i wouldn't ignore you, but that's impossible for you,” she retorts, standing her ground.

“don’t you fucking talk to me like that–” he nears her, only a few steps between them and she starts to feel the panic in her chest, “your stubbornness is the reason your mother left–”

“my stubbornness?” she can’t help but fight back. that’s what separates her from her past self. her younger self ran away, left home as soon as she could to live on her own, but now she’s grown into who she is today, and she won’t let him ruin that. “you treated your wife like shit and refused to change no matter how many times she screamed and argued with you right in front of me about how horrible you were. you've never fixed anything because you’re so stuck up and think you’re so high and mighty that she decided to pack up her bags and leave–”

“then why did she leave you behind too?” 

it’s like her heart stops beating for a second. her blood runs cold before her vision is a blur and the face of the man is crushed right in front of her, sending him to the ground groaning. his hand is covering his nose, preventing her from seeing how badly damaged it is, but she can’t find it in her to care.

“don’t blame her for your faults. grow up and take responsibility for your shit. she deserved better than either of you,” omi is talking down on the man now, and she looks up from her father’s body to the fist of the boy beside her, bruised and a little red.

he’s been by her side since day one, and maybe he disappeared for a section of it, but now he’s back. they're back together, and she stands proudly beside him, “she left me too, but i can’t be mad at her for being sick of you. or us. whatever it is, you’re both selfish and her absence nor yours is something i’m mourning over. i’m happy to have left you too and for the last time, i never want to see you again”

iwaizumi has joined them, standing above the man, no trace of sympathy in his eyes despite the blood that's streaking down her father's face. he tries to get up, only for iwaizumi to keep him down on the ground with a foot on his shoulder, “you heard her. don’t ever show your fucking face around here again. i’ll kill you the moment i lay eyes on you.” iwaizumi’s olive eyes move from the ground to meet hers, slightly softening when he sees her, “are you done with him? i’ll make sure he gets out of here and stays away for good.”

omi’s words from the diner rush back to her head, and she doesn’t feel so bad for relying on her friend. she believes he's willing to help her, and she won’t let her father’s words get to her head. she’s cared for others, unlike him, and developed relationships that she’s earned by giving out her own love. “yeah, i’m done,” her voice is quiet again as she keeps looking at her friend, searching his eyes for any sort of annoyance. but she can’t find any, and she smiles, walking towards him, wrapping her arms around him. “thank you, iwaizumi.”

he has an arm around her shoulders, his foot still resting on her father. “always,” he replies simply before she leaves him embrace, gesturing for omi to follow her. “i’m going to take care of his fist, now.”

iwaizumi only nods, turning his attention back to the man on the ground omi following his gaze as he passes by. iwaizumi will do more than a good enough job at keeping his word, he knows that, but he feels like he should have some part in taking care of the man whose plagued the girl in front of him for her entire life.

but she hasn’t asked him to take care of the man in front of her, and he knows its not his place. she knows she does not resent the man to the point that she wishes harm upon him, she simply wishes that he would leave her alone. and iwaizumi will make sure that wish is honored, and omi should be satisfied with the hit he landed on the man’s nose.

before her hand can even reach the knob of the door, it swings open and she’s pulled inside by the arms of a black-haired man who he recognizes to be akaashi. kita is standing beside him, a hand on [y/n]’s shoulder as they both check on her for any injuries or harm.

he hasn’t seen kita since his days in high school when he was the captain of inarizaki; atsumu told him he had moved out to the countryside but he must have come back after some time. he feels like a weight is lifted off his chest at the sight of her in the arms of his roomates, and he knows that she is cared for. that she has found her people, just like he told her earlier that night, and he hopes that she’s starting to accept his words as the truth.

he’s happy just watching her from afar, but she breaks apart from akaashi’s hug to gesture him in, and kita shuts the door behind him. “omi, this way,” she says with a smile on her face, beckoning him with a hand.

it’s the first time she’s called him by that old name since high school, and he thinks he’s falling even harder for her if that’s possible. she makes him sit on a stool in the kitchen while she searches her cabinets and a nearby closet for medical supplies. she’s begun to apply an ointment to his hand when he opens his mouth, “i can’t believe you think your roomates would ever leave you. look at how they all came to make sure you were okay. mine are one fight away from starting to vote people to kick out of the apartment nearly every week.”

she laughs at his comment, unwrapping a roll of bandages, “i’m sure no one would ever vote for you if that happened, but i guess you’re right, they’re pretty good, aren’t they?”

he nods, watching her face while she’s focused on his hand, “are you doing okay?”

she hums back in response, “yeah. the thing about my mom leaving me behind too kind of stung, but i don’t think life would’ve been any better with her, so it shouldn’t really hurt that bad. i’ll be okay. what you said at the diner really helped, you know. i feel like I can trust myself to say what i'm thinking rather than being scared i'm wrong or selfish. i can trust that it's not egotistical to believe my roomates don’t actually hate me. and that you don’t hate me. so i feel like i’ve finally escaped the weight of my dad’s words always crushing me and playing down anything i do.”

he reaches a hand up with his uninjured hand to wipe away tears from her face she didn't even realize were falling. and then he keeps his hand there, caressing the side of her face. “i don’t hate you, i never have. this entire time…how i feel about you is quite the opposite,” the words are slightly too intimate for him and as soon as they escape his mouth, it becomes hard to swallow and his face feels a little hot, but he doesn’t remove the hand from her cheek. he opts to say something more neutral next, “you did well, talking back down to him. i think you could’ve taken him down yourself.”

she chuckles at that, tying a knot to finish his bandage, “that’s what you think, but i’m sure i’d break my thumb or something. and if i have a hot man to defend me? i’m not lifting a finger.”

“you think i’m hot?” he says with a smile.

her cheeks grow warm under his hand, but she can’t look or move away from him, “i’m pretty sure thousands of people think so. it’s like a fact; newspapers can make money off of just having your face on the front page even if they barely mention you or don’t focus on sports at all.”

“well none of that matters,” he’s smiling softly now, and she’s still looking into his dark-colored eyes, hands holding his wrapped hand, “it just matters what you think.”

“what i think?” she repeats. and maybe it’s the adrenaline from the encounter they just had, or his boldness rubbing off on her in this current moment, but her next words come out clear and confident, “i think i love you, and i have for years. even when you left, i never stopped loving you.”

“i’m gonna make up for those years, you know,” he whispers back, pulling her by the sides to stand between his legs, bringing her closer. “i know i love you. i’d be a fool not to. and i loved you back then in high school too, even if i didn’t know it. i swear, losing you made me realize how much i took you for granted and everything became clear. letting you disappear was the worst mistake i ever made. i’ll make up for that lost time. make it up to you to the the point that you’re sick of me and you forget we were ever even separated for a time in our lives.”

“oh? and how are you gonna do that?” there’s a breathless feeling growing inside of her chest, where her heart beating fast with his confession and the way she's allowing him to pull her face close to this.

“starting with this,” his breath is hot against her lips before he closes the gap between them, and she’s kissing him back. she doesn't mourn or wish for the past, or for anything to change. he's come back and that's all that matters. she's happy with the word again. she likes it better than a phrase like "we fell in love at first sight." instead, she can say, "we met again. we fell in love again.

"we tried again."

it sounds like a story that reminds people endings aren't set in stone. she likes it.

.

.

.

“by the way, have you been playing songs for me in your lounge room when i’m waiting for you?”

“oh, you noticed?”

.

.

.

"the more you love your friends the more their features start to blur until all you remember is a pair of warm, welcoming eyes and laughter that feels like home."

prev. | m.list

extras <3

this is the end! thank you for reading try again <3

that last little quote is something i should've included like two chapters ago but it got lost in my gallery so here it is now <3

y/n's a good therapist i swear!!! she takes like one second to hit a play on a spotify playlist she's not playing games on her computer for entire sessions 😭

this is all i have tbh! i hope you enjoyed a little bit of this story <3 thank you so so much for being along on this ride w me!!

taglist: @eggyrocks @wyrcan @guitarstringed-scars @strawberryuri @violetesensou @kakeru-eem @glmge @heytheredemonsss @mollyrolls @bemebiu @daszy @snail-squasher @0moonii @thiisisntlovely @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @iiwaijime @iatethemochi @yuminako @savemebrazilhinata @kismyscars @bokutoko @nobodybutnnoorr @wolffmaiden @daisy-room @softpia @lees-chaotic-brain @v3nusplanetofluv @crispchocolates @phoenix-eclipses @hhoneyhan @encrypta @rockleeisbaeeee @cr4yolaas @zombriesworld @localgaytrainwreck @moucheslove @hibernatinghamster @notverymarley @certaindreampost @akaakeis @ciderscape @lucien-luna @strawbrinkofdeath @wave2mia @samuel1004 @01trickster10 @dazqa @cosmiicdust @chemiru

[shina913]

A Very Patient Man | LJH

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x AFAB!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: F2L; FWB; smut; pwp

Warnings: cussing; breast play; fingering; cunnilingus; unprotected sex; PIV sex; riding; ass smacking; dirty talk; creampie

Word count: 4.6k words

Summary: You’re frustrated because it takes you longer to reach an orgasm during sex. This has made you feel insecure, and you started to accept the fact you’d never meet someone patient enough to give you the attention you need. Your friend, Jihoon, casually offers a solution.

A/N: Idk. I slipped and fell onto my keyboard and all this horny word vomit spilled out. Thanks to @roaminginthenights for always enabling me in the DMs 🤣

This is also un-beta'd so...it is what it is.

Anyway! Here’s something filthy to end the year! 💜

It started innocently enough at Jihoon’s studio. You were sitting on his couch, venting about your dating life, and as always, he listened attentively just as you do when he shares his own experiences.

However, today’s visit was different. He’s letting you ramble on about a very specific topic.

“I feel like there’s an invisible time limit on foreplay.”

Jihoon’s chair creaks as he leans back, laughing at your incredulous claim. “No, there isn’t!”

“But I really think there is!” you argue. “My last date got visibly impatient, even though I...” you inhale through your teeth, “clearly asked him for more time down there. Instead, he just said, ‘It’s been five minutes, it’s my turn now.’” You huff in annoyance.

“Well, that sucks. Did you get rid of him?”

You grimace before replying. “Please don’t judge me. He was cute, so we still fucked. My vibrator finished the job,” you admit guiltily. “I blocked him on the app afterward though.”

He sighs, shaking his head in mild disappointment. “You shouldn’t compromise on your needs. If you want more time, say so and stick with it.”

You huffed wistfully. “I just take too long. I get all panicky when someone’s been down there for longer than 5 minutes.”

“You can’t rush pleasure,” he comments.

“I know that, but now, it makes me think—how long is too long before you come? Is there a play clock winding down on the field? Do I need to call out an audible?”

He doubles over again, laughing when you start using sports metaphors.

“How can some women summon an orgasm—” you snap your fingers, “just like that?”

His laughs subside, turning more serious now. “Don’t do that. Don’t compare yourself to other people. Everybody’s different.”

“Yes, thank you for reminding me,” you remark sarcastically.

He turns away to face his screen, adding more edits to a track he’s working on.

“I don’t know…” you mumble, shrugging in defeat. “I guess my vibrator and I are destined to spend the rest of our lives together. Might as well reserve matching burial plots.”

Jihoon snorts. “You just haven’t found the right partner. A really patient one, I might add,” he says, half-joking.

You smack him on his bicep, and your hand stings from the unexpected firmness under his oversized shirt. Has his arm always been this solid? When was the last time you touched his bicep? Wait—why are you even thinking of his bicep?

You and Jihoon have been close friends since college, maintaining a purely platonic relationship—never a hint of romance or sexual tension between you. On rare nights out, you even act as each other’s wingman, helping one another find potential dates. You two simply click on a different level—easy and no complications.

He looked up from his mixing board, turning to you with a slight smirk. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but I happen to be very patient.”

The lilt in his voice was unmistakable. It was the kind of tone he used when chatting up potential conquests on your nights out.

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Don’t you dare use that Joey Tribbiani move on me.”

“It’s not a move.” He keeps his face serious, looking genuinely hurt by your comment. “You’re my friend. I wouldn’t do that to you,” he says softly. “I’m just saying, if you ever wanted to try, I’m game.” He tilts his head, giving a casual shrug. “No judgment.”

You stare at him, stunned, as his offer hangs in the air. You try to laugh it off, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

Was he seriously proposing that you two—nope! You refuse to go there. Jihoon is a great friend, and although you trust him, you’re not sure you’d be comfortable with the idea of...

You shake your head. You can’t even finish the thought. You glance at your watch for no reason at all.

“You know, I think I’m going to call it a night.”

“Oh? I thought you wanted to grab dinner?” He’s surprised and confused at your sudden change of plans.

“It’s getting late.”

Truthfully, it wasn’t that late. You feel guilty lying to your friend, but you need to escape this conversation—and this situation—as quickly as possible.

“I just got a notification from work. I need to come in early, yada-yada…You know how it is.”

He looks disappointed but doesn’t push. You gather your things, slipping your puffer jacket on, despite the room feeling several degrees warmer.

“Alright. If you’re sure—”

“Yeah,” you cut him off. That came out more tersely than you initially intended. “I’m sure,” you add with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes to try and make up for it.

He rises from his seat when you do and moves in for a hug—just like he usually does. But this time, the hug feels different; you’re suddenly hyperaware of his touch, your skin tingling all over. You return his hug stiffly, without your usual warmth, then hurry out of his studio and immediately tear off your too-hot jacket.

That night, your dreams were filled with visions—his hands tracing paths across your skin, his dark head dipping between your thighs, his intense gaze meeting yours as you hovered on the edge of unbridled pleasure. The dream felt so vivid you could have sworn you felt the warmth of his breath against your skin. It wasn’t until your alarm began blaring, leaving you trembling and drenched in sweat, that reality came crashing back.

********************************************

A couple of days passed, and you couldn’t stop thinking about Jihoon. This wasn’t your usual “hope he remembered to eat lunch” thoughts or impulse to send him funny memes that popped up on your algorithm.

After your NSFW dream about him, you started noticing little things about him you’d never paid attention to before—the adorable way he’d scrunch up his nose while concentrating on work, how his muscles moved when he reached for something, or how the warm red studio lights perfectly highlighted his features.

You shake your head. It’s not that deep. Jihoon’s suggestion was only practical. There’s no reason to go down this rabbit hole.

Still, you can’t deny the growing curiosity gnawing at the back of your mind. You hadn’t expected his offer to affect you this way, but it does.

After days of avoiding him, you decide to invite him to dinner at your place. Maybe if you discussed this with him, the dreams and inappropriate thoughts would stop.

The moment he walks through your door, everything falls apart. You become hyper-aware of his every move. You catch yourself stealing glances when you think he isn’t looking, and you flinch whenever he gets too close.

Finally, he’s had enough.

“Okay,” he says firmly. “What’s with you? Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird,” you lie, your heart racing. You reach for your drink and take a hefty gulp.

“Have I said or done something? You’ve flaked on me the last couple of times I asked you to go out, you’ve left me on ‘read’ more than you’ve responded...”

You felt guilty for avoiding him, but you needed that space to sort out your thoughts. Though you wanted to have this conversation, you couldn’t find the right moment to broach the topic.

“Then you invite me over, barely talk—” he continues to rant.

“It’s... it’s really more of a me-problem,” you stammer.

“Just talk to me! I can take it.” He throws his hands up in frustration.

You inwardly groan, before finally coming clean. “Remember the last time we were at your studio? I was whining about...something.”

He squinted for a bit, then you could see the recognition slowly dawning in his eyes before lowering his voice. “You mean, how you take a long time to reach an orgasm?”

You shut your eyes, mortified when he articulates it. “Yes…”

“What about it?”

“It’s not exactly about that, but it’s more about what you said after. You know—your offer to help?”

His face visibly relaxes, prompting you to continue. “Okay.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest, but you push through. “Did you mean it, or were you just messing with me?”

He stares at you for a moment before shaking his head, the corner of his lips quirking up. “The offer still stands, if you want it.”

You sit there chewing the inside of your cheek, feeling torn. Your brain tells you to be careful—fucking your best friend could make things weird. But your body has other ideas. The warmth pooling between your legs makes it harder to think straight.

“Are you considering it?” His voice is gentle, giving you space to choose.

You deflect, buying time to sort through your tumbling thoughts. “I’m curious... have you thought about this before? About us?”

“The idea has crossed my mind from time to time.”

His candor sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Oh,” is all you can manage to say.

“What about you? Have you thought about us...doing things?”

You draw in a shaky breath, forcing yourself to be equally honest. “I never thought of us that way before you mentioned it. But now...” you trail off, unable to verbalize how his suggestion has shifted something between you.

He inches closer, but maintains enough distance to keep you comfortable. His expression grows serious, earnest. “Listen, I would never pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to. You’re one of my best friends, and that matters more to me than anything else. If I’m out of line, just say the word and we won’t talk about it ever again.” The sincerity in his voice, the genuine concern in his eyes makes your heart ache. You’ve always known him to be considerate of your feelings.

“You weren’t out of line.” Hearing you say this was a huge relief to him. “But you can’t really un-ring that bell,” you add wryly.

You also couldn’t get past an earlier comment he made. “So…you’ve thought about us before?”

He takes a moment before answering. “Yeah. I mean, you’re beautiful. Who wouldn’t want you?”

Your cheeks flush at his compliment.

Your best friend has always had this effortless way about him—you’ve seen firsthand how easily he charms people during your nights out together.

Your resolve crumbles, and honestly, you’re tired of fighting it. “How are you so chill about all this?”

He laughs. “It’s sex, not rocket science.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Things won’t get weird afterward, will they?”

“Afterward? So...you’re saying you want to have sex? With me?” His eyebrows raise slightly.

You already knew the answer to that question the moment you asked him to come over. “I guess I do,” you say softly with a nervous smile, “for science?”

His sexy, throaty laugh echoes through the room.

********

You sit nervously on your couch facing each other. Since this is completely new territory for both of you, you know you need to take things slow and make sure you’re both comfortable. Gathering up the courage to agree to this experiment is the easy part, but actually getting into it?

“Just to be clear—this is a one-time thing, right?”

“Of course,” he confirms. “This is purely for educational purposes. And your pleasure.”

You scrunch your nose in protest. “That doesn’t seem like a fair exchange.” The idea of him seeing this as one-sided doesn’t sit right with you. “Shouldn’t this be mutually beneficial?”

“I never said I had to get something out of this. You want to experience an orgasm from foreplay alone, without mechanical assistance, right?”

You nod.

“Okay. So, let me focus on making that happen for you. You don’t need to think about anything else.”

You didn’t want to be selfish, but his offer was difficult to refuse.

“This is about you, not me,” he insists. His decision is firm and he wasn’t budging.

“Okay,” you relent. Fidgeting nervously with the hem of your shirt, you take in a deep breath and release it before muttering, “How should we do this...”

When Jihoon doesn’t immediately offer any suggestions, you think of the most natural way to start.

“Maybe we could start with kissing?”

“Right, good idea.” His voice wavers slightly, betraying that he’s just as nervous as you are despite his attempts to stay composed. Oddly, this puts you at ease—knowing you’re both on the same page, figuring this out as you go.

You both move in closer together, and time seems to slow as he leans in. Your eyes flutter shut, then his lips meet yours. They’re exactly as you’d imagined—soft, warm, and unexpectedly gentle. The kiss starts tentatively, but as your lips find their rhythm, everything feels natural.

When you break apart for a moment, you can’t help but smile. “You’re a good kisser.” You barely finish the sentence before being drawn back to his lips.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he hums, and you can feel his smile against your lips as you both laugh, the sounds melting into your kisses.

Your kisses grow more intense, your mouth sucking on his top lip while his tongue traces delicately along yours, building a warmth that spreads through your entire body. You fist at his shirt, bunching the fabric between your knuckles, while his hand cradles your neck, his thumb gently stroking along your pulse point.

Gradually, his kisses move from your lips, following a path along the curve of your jawline, down to the slope of your neck. You can’t help but giggle at the sensation.

He instantly pulls back, a worried look on his face. “Sorry, are you not into that?”

“No, no—I mean—Yes, I am into it. I’m just a little bit ticklish there, that’s all,” you explain.

“Oh... okay. Do you want to keep going?”

You nod, and as he leans in for another kiss but pauses when you place a hand on his chest. “You know, I didn’t think I’d enjoy this because we’ve been friends for so long, but I have to admit that I like it.”

“Yeah?” A smirk plays across his lips. “Tell me what else you like.” He nips at your jawline. “Or show me.”

Desire spreads through you like wildfire. This was the point of no return. You take his hands and guide them under your shirt until they cup your breasts.

“What do you want me to do?” He murmurs through your lips.

“Play with them.”

His lips capture yours again as he squeezes your breast gently.

He eases you down onto the couch, his lips trailing from yours down your neck to your sternum. When he lifts your shirt to your chest, you feel constrained and pull it off completely, tossing it aside. He follows your lead, removing his own shirt.

His skilled fingers unhook your bra and takes a nipple into his mouth while his thumb teases the other, drawing a sharp breath from you.

You run your fingers through his hair as his kisses trace down your stomach, making your back arch at the sensation against your skin.

His hands glide down your sides until they reach your jeans, where he carefully undoes the button. You hook your fingers into your waistband and start pushing your bottoms down. He helps slide them off, his touch remaining gentle but with a hint of urgency as he pulls the fabric from your legs. As the last piece of clothing falls away, the cool air against your newly exposed skin makes you shiver.

One of his hands pushed between your legs, making them fall open shamelessly. His other hand continued to massage your breasts, making them unbearably sensitive. You can’t believe how slick you’d gotten in a short span of time. To think he hadn’t done much to you yet, apart from kissing you and squeezing your tits.

His gaze traveled down your body, lingering where his fingertips teased your sensitive folds. His feather-light touches made your inner walls clench with need. This only heightened your arousal, making you squirm beneath him, silently begging for more.

He slid one finger carefully into you. Your eyes closed against the unbearable vulnerability of being spread out naked and fingered by your friend, kneeling on the floor beside you. “Don’t think…just feel.” You keened as Jihoon pulled out and thrust gently back into you with two fingers. You couldn’t hold back a moan.

It’s probably been a few minutes now, you’re not sure as you’ve completely lost track of time. You blink furiously in a mild panic and stare down at him, still leisurely finger-fucking you. What he was doing felt so good, but you weren’t even halfway to your peak yet. By this point, other partners would be coming up for air, wanting you to return the favor or just ready to stick their cock in to get their fill.

“Relax...” he cooed, pressing a kiss against your inner thigh. Each deliberate dip and languid curl of his skilled fingers inside you made you wetter, gradually coaxing your muscles to yield. “It’s not a race,” he reassured you softly, his voice thick with desire. “I’ll keep going until you come.”

His words of encouragement sent waves of arousal coursing through you, making your breath catch in your throat.

“Kiss me,” you choked out, needing to feel his lips against yours. Without hesitation, he obliged, sealing his mouth over yours in a deep kiss that made you dizzy.

Your fingers clutched desperately at the edges of your cushions, knuckles turning white from your grip as you felt that familiar sensation between your legs. “Right there. Don’t stop,” you gasped between heavy breaths, your hips bucking against his steadily thrusting fingers. The pleasure was building to an unbearable level, making you feel like you might shatter to pieces if he didn’t push you over the edge soon.

He continued to whisper the filthiest things—words you’d never heard him say to you. They revealed previously unspoken fantasies that ignited your body and overwhelmed your senses. A fleeting thought crossed your mind, wondering if this was his usual bedroom talk. But that thought slipped away as his words and actions consumed you completely. Before you realized it, you were peaking.

“I want to see what you look like when you come,” he purred. “Do you look as pretty as you do right now?” Everything tightened in your core while he kept up his ministrations in a steady, unhurried rhythm.

“Oh fuck, I’m coming…”

“Don’t hold back. Let me hear you,” he urged.

You let out a strangled cry, your mind far beyond the depths of euphoria to care about being quiet or demure about this. He was mesmerized, unable to look away at the sheer pleasure that washed over you. Before you could even process what just happened, he’d already hooked your leg over the back of the couch and covered your cleft with his mouth.

He stroked your clit with his tongue, fluttering over it, building your hunger back up again. He teased your slick folds, taunting you with the promise of another orgasm—something you thought impossible to achieve so soon, yet your body responded eagerly. When his fingers pushed inside you at the same time, you had to bite your lip to stifle a scream.

You came again, your thighs trembling, tender muscles pulsing around his touch. His growl vibrated through you. You didn’t have the strength to push him away when he returned to your clit and sucked softly…tirelessly…but now you wanted more. You needed to feel him.

You manage to sit up and squeeze his shoulder to get his attention. He peers up at you from between your thighs.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Already?” He smiles, teasing you with painfully slow strokes of his fingers. “Pretty sure I can get another one out of you,” he says cockily.

“Lee Jihoon—I. Am asking you. To fuck. Me,” you punctuated. “Will you do it or not?”

He sits up, turning sheepish all of a sudden. “I, uhm…didn’t expect us to be doing this, so I didn’t bring any condoms.”

It’s not like he was some random guy. Although you appreciated his caution, you just wanted him inside you. “I trust you,” you tell him before pressing a kiss to him.

After he settles on the couch, you shift unsteadily to straddle his hips, pressing your bodies together. Reaching between you, you fumble with his jeans until he helps, lifting his hips in a fluid motion to pull them down just enough to free himself. Bracing yourself, you let him guide you as you slowly sink down onto him. Your lips part with an involuntary sigh that turns into a soft moan as he fills you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way.

When you begin to roll your hips, the friction sends sparks of pleasure through your core.

“Fuck, your pussy feels good,” he breathes out roughly, his fingers digging into your hips before worry suddenly crosses his face. His cheeks flush as he stammers, “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

You giggle at his compliment, causing your muscles to clamp around his length. “I’m not mad at it,” you reassure him. “You make me feel really good, too.”

“Yeah?” His brow quirks. “You like when I fuck you?”

“Yes,” you moan, dipping your head to his lips in another kiss as you find your rhythm together.

His hands roam your back, pulling you closer as you rock against him with increasing urgency. Before this, you’ve resigned yourself to never experiencing an orgasm from penetrative sex, and yet here was another brewing and there was nothing you could do but let it happen.

You gasp as his hand makes sudden contact with your ass, the unexpected sting making you freeze in place. You stare at him dumbfounded.

“What are you going to do about it?” he challenges. Before you can answer, his hand comes down again with another firm smack that rings through the room. “What?” The sound of provocation in his voice makes your pulse quicken.

You hover over him, eyes narrowing as you lean closer. Through gritted teeth, your voice emerges as a heated whisper. “Harder.”

“I thought so.” He smiles slyly before your lips crash in a fierce kiss that leaves you both breathless.

With a firm grip, he holds your hips still as he thrusts into you with deliberate, measured strokes. You clutch at him, the rhythmic sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Jihoon buries his face between your breasts, his rough groans reverberating against your flesh.

You whine helplessly, overwhelmed by the building pressure as the familiar coil of tension in your belly winds impossibly tight. Your thighs burn as you teeter on the edge of release.

“Yes...d-don’t...stop...hm...so close,” you pant.

He slows his movements to an agonizing pace, drawing out each thrust to drive you insane. He pulls out completely before sinking back into you with one deep thrust that makes you see stars. Your jaw drops, unintelligible sounds tumbling out your mouth as you come hard.

You hold onto him for dear life, your nails leaving a trail of crescent marks on his skin as he picks up the pace once again, his own rhythm becoming more erratic as he chases his own orgasm. A deep groan rumbles from his chest as your walls pulse and clench around him.

“I’m close,” he warns, his usually calm and collected face now twisted with agonizing need.

“Don’t pull out,” you manage to choke out between strained, ragged breaths.

“You…s-sure…?”

You nod eagerly. With your permission, he thrusts deeper and harder, making your neck loll in ecstasy. He draws you back into a rough, hungry kiss that muffles your shared moans as he reaches the end of his rope, his hips jerking against yours while he spurts inside.

Pressing your sweat-slicked forehead against his, you wait for your heart rate to return to normal. There’s no doubt in your mind—no previous partner could compare to Jihoon.

“Oh my fucking god,” you sigh. “We’ve been missing out all this time.”

He laughs softly, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “It was worth the wait though!”

********

After a quick shower and a necessary trip to the pharmacy down the block, you and Jihoon return to your apartment with bags of late-night snacks. All that sexual activity had certainly worked up an appetite, and you found yourself craving something sweet. An ice cream waffle cone hit the spot for you.

“Are you okay?”

You smile, endeared at his worrying. “You know, you’ve asked me that same question multiple times now, and I’ll keep giving you the same answer—I’m fine. Great, actually!”

“I know, I know,” he responds sheepishly. “I just hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us.”

“Trust me, I don’t feel awkward about any of this at all,” you respond with complete sincerity before facing him to find out if he felt the same way you did. “Do you?”

He shakes his head, tilting the bag of Skittles into his mouth. “Nope,” he answers between chews. “To be honest, I thought that was fucking mind-blowing!”

You inhale sharply at his candid comment, nodding in agreement. “Same. Absolutely no complaints from me!”

He gets up from the couch, takes out a small box from the shopping bag to set it aside, and stuffs your discarded candy wrappers into it before heading to the kitchen to throw them away.

When he returns from the kitchen, your eyes linger on him. “Thanks, Jihoonie,” you whisper. “For…everything.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies with a wink before sinking back into the couch beside you.

This turned out to be the complete opposite of your initial fears. Not only did this one-off experiment exceed all your expectations, but it seems your friendship remained the same. Though you never would have guessed that your best friend would end up giving you the best orgasms of your life.

As you continue to enjoy your treat, you notice Jihoon’s eyes fixed on your tongue as it swirls around the chocolate ice cream. His dark eyes watching you with the same intensity as when you came undone with his touch earlier.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

You arched an eyebrow at him. “Quit staring at me like that,” you cautioned, though your tone suggested otherwise.

“Then don’t ever eat an ice cream cone in front of me,” he responds with a chuckle as he subtly adjusts himself beneath his pants.

You bite your lip, feeling a warmth between your legs again. “You know...” you clear your throat, reaching for the box of condoms he left on the coffee table, “I wonder if these things really live up to the ‘raw’ feel.”

He clicks his teeth dismissively before responding. “I think it’s false advertising.”

“You think so?”

He takes the box from you, examining the label. “I mean, we do have a perfect point of comparison,” he reasons, a smile ghosting his lips. “Should we find out?”

You stare at each other for a moment before breaking into grins and exclaiming in unison, “For science!”

Main SVT Fic Masterlist

Thank you for reading!

Interaction/feedback is appreciated but *not* required. But just in case you feel comfortable enough to comment or just say hello, my inbox 📩 is open 💜💎

[greengoblinswifey]

Introducing—bimbo!nanny!reader

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You were a total bimbo, through and through. Obsessed with all things pink, leopard print, Victoria’s Secret and rhinestones, just to name a few, you embodied early 2000s glamour. Your nails were always long and acrylic, your hair always styled to perfection, and your outfits? Always tiny, always tight, and always revealing just enough to make people stare.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. Nicholas Chavez and his wife Victoria were looking for a nanny—someone responsible, experienced, and reliable to care for their two young children, Alexander who was 4 and Madison, 3, while their acting schedules grew more demanding. You weren’t exactly what Victoria had in mind, but Nicholas? He thought you were perfect.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. Your dad had sent you the job listing, urging you to try something new—and more importantly, to make some extra cash to fund your shopping addiction. “Just in case you finally suck me dry,” he had joked, handing you the ad. So, you figured, why not?

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. At the interview, Nicholas couldn't keep his eyes off you. You had shown up in a cropped pink Juicy Couture tracksuit, your glossy lips pursed as you answered every question flawlessly. Despite your bubbly, seemingly airheaded persona, you were well educated, experienced, and more than capable. But Victoria had hesitated. “Are we sure she's the right fit?” she had asked Nicholas once you left. “She's perfect,” Nicholas had said without hesitation.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. For the first few weeks, both Nicholas and Victoria stayed close, observing how you handled the children. To their surprise, you were incredible with them. You played with them for hours, read them bedtime stories in dramatic voices, sang their favorite songs, and even let Madison dress up in your clothes and heels.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. Alexander was obsessed with you, almost as much as his father was. He clung to your side, mimicking your gestures, even staring at you with the same dreamy look Nicholas sometimes had when he thought no one was watching.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. Victoria, however, wasn’t blind. The first time she caught you gawking at Nicholas—jaw slack, eyes wide, practically drooling—she had snapped, “Nicholas, put on a shirt.” He had smirked but obeyed, tossing on a t-shirt like it was no big deal.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. But when she wasn’t home? Nicholas walked around freely—shirtless, towel hanging low on his hips showing his V line after a shower, muscles still damp, chest defined despite being in his early 40s. You had nearly dropped Madison’s juice box one morning when he sauntered into the kitchen like that.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. “Oh my god,” you whispered, biting your glossy lip. He chuckled, leaning against the counter. “Something wrong?”

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. “Nuh-uh,” you said, twirling a strand of hair. “Just, like—wow.”

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. Nicholas was absolutely whipped. He couldn’t stop staring at you—at the way your little tops always had your bra peeking out, at the way your crop tops rode up to expose your belly button ring, and the tramp stamp paired with your Victoria Secret thongs that occasionally flashed when you bent over.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You were flirty, playful, always giggling and touching his arm when you talked. “Mr. Chavez, you’re sooo strong,” you gushed once, pressing a manicured hand against his bicep. He swallowed hard, flexing slightly under your touch. “You think so?”

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. “Mhmm,” you nodded, lips pursed. “Like, if I ever fainted, would you catch me?”

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. “I’d make sure you never hit the ground,” he said, voice low.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. Victoria didn’t like how much time Nicholas spent around you. She wasn’t outright rude, but she was, watching. And you knew it.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. But Nicholas? He didn’t even try to hide how much he enjoyed your presence. He lingered in the kitchen longer than necessary when you were making breakfast. He always made sure to say goodnight when you put the kids to bed. And sometimes—just sometimes—when you walked past him in your skimpy outfits, he let his gaze linger just a second too long.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You were naturally flirty, and Nicholas never stood a chance. Whether it was handing him a jar of jam and cooing about how big and strong he was when he opened it or lounging by the pool in your tiny pink bikini and asking him to rub sunscreen on your back, you always knew how to push his buttons. He tried to keep his cool, but you saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his hands flexed, the way his eyes always lingered just a second too long.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. The way he looked at you wasn’t subtle. You caught him staring all the time. When you bent over to pick up Madison, when you stretched in the mornings and your playboy bunny belly ring glinted under the light, when you sat on the couch, twirling your hair and licking frosting off your fingers after baking with the kids. Once, you called him out on it. “You’re always staring, Mr. Chavez,” you giggled. His ears turned red, and he muttered something under his breath before leaving the room.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You never expected to get photographed with him, but you didn’t mind. Nicholas had taken you and the kids for ice cream, and suddenly, cameras were everywhere. “Nicholas! Who’s the girl?” one asked. “New nanny or new girlfriend?” You just giggled, wrapping your arms around his. “Oh my gosh, Mr. Chavez! Are we dating? Why didn’t you tell me?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re gonna get me in trouble.”

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. He did get in trouble. Victoria was pissed when she saw the pictures, and the tension in the house was thick. Later that night, you found Nicholas in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of whiskey in hand. You licked whipped cream off your spoon, hopping onto the counter beside him. “Are you mad at me?” you pouted. He exhaled. “No, just—this is complicated.” Your silk pajama shorts rode up as you swung your legs. “Mmhmm. But complicated can be fun.” He looked at you for a long moment—then suddenly, he was there, standing between your legs, hands gripping your waist.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You had shared a slow kiss, hesitant. But when you sighed against his lips, pulling him closer, he groaned and deepened it. His hands roamed, fingers brushing your exposed skin. You tasted like sugar, smelled like vanilla and flowers, and Nicholas couldn’t get enough. When you finally pulled away, breathless, you licked your lips, smirking. “Wow. You’re really good at that.” He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. “This is bad.” You kissed his jaw, giggling. “Mmhmm. And you love it.”

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You had always been into older men, and Nicholas was no exception. The way they carried themselves. The way they spoke. The way they looked at you—like they actually saw you. Boys your age were boring. Nicholas was not. And now, with his hands still lingering on your waist, his lips still tingling from yours, you knew one thing for sure.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You wanted more.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. And so did he.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

a/n— I hope this introduction was good, send me requests for nicholas x bimbo!nanny!reader🩷

tags: @blackynsupremacy @hoffmansgirl @nicholaschavezslut69

[lihhelsing]

"What do you mean you don't remember your first kiss?" Eddie asked, giving Steve that look he always got whenever he made the mistake of mentioning that piece of information about his past.

Steve shrugged, feeling uncomfortable and hoped Eddie would drop it. "I just don't remember it. Guess it wasn't memorable."

Eddie rolled his eyes, "You're telling me your first kiss wasn't memorable?"

"Yeah, man. It's whatever."

Now, both Eddie and Steve knew that was a lie. Not that Steve necessarily cared about something like a first kiss, but it bothered him that everyone seemed to have either a funny or sweet story to tell.

Like how Robin's first kiss had happened under a tree with her first girl crush, or how Nancy's first kiss only happened because the guy was kind of scared of her, or how Jonathan's first kiss only happened with Nancy.

"Do you remember yours?" Steve asked and Eddie nodded instantly.

"Of course I do."

Steve raised a brow at him and Eddie chuckled.

"It wasn't anything special, really. I kissed a guy under the bleachers and he never spoke to me again after that, the end."

Eddie was using that voice he always used whenever something bothered him.

"So it wasn't good," Steve said as he placed his hand on top of Eddie's. What was worse, not remembering your first kiss or feeling like shit about it?

"The kiss was ok. It was barely a kiss, I had no idea what to do with my hands and tongue and it was a little weird. Nothing to write home about, that's for sure. But I lost a friend that day and it really sucked. It made me think kisses are more powerful than they have any right to be."

And wasn't that the truth? Steve remembered other first kisses. Like his first kiss with Nancy, that he thought was gonna be the last first kiss of his life. He was wrong about that, of course.

"I know what you mean," Steve said. His hand was still on top of Eddie's but now Eddie was smiling.

And then he was grinning.

"I have an idea," he said, looking like a maniac. And Steve knew that couldn't be a good thing.

"Should I be scared?"

Eddie laughed. "Probably. What if..."

"Yeah?"

"We kissed."

Time seemed to stop for a second and then Steve was frowning at Eddie.

"What?"

"Yeah! Think about it, Steve," Eddie said, getting up. He always got restless when his brain started to work in full power. Steve thought it was kind of cute. "You can pretend this was your first kiss, so then when people tell you you can picture it and just make up some story about it."

Steve raised a brow, "I'm pretty sure that's not how first kisses work. Plus, what's in it for you? You remember your first kiss."

Eddie shrugged, throwing himself back on the couch and landing much closer to Steve than he was before. "Sure. But then I can will my brain to understand kisses don't have to mean something. This could just be a friendly kiss between two friends. Nothing else."

For some reason that didn't seem right, but Steve nodded anyway.

"Ok."

Eddie's eyes widened. "Ok?"

"Yeah, ok. Let's kiss and see what happens," Steve said. "What?"

Eddie bit his lower lip, "I don't know. I just didn't think you were gonna say yes."

Steve laughed, throwing his head back. Classic Eddie. His mouth was too big for his own good. Steve fucking loved it.

"Well, that's ok. I'll help you," Steve said, leaning in close.

He could see Eddie's eyelashes and the way his cheeks were tinted red. Steve placed a hand on the nape of his neck and heard the exact moment Eddies's breath hitched in his chest.

"Is this ok?" he asked. Eddie might talk a big talk but Steve wasn't about to cross any boundaries. If he said he was just joking Steve would pull back and pretend it had never happened.

But Eddie didn't, so Steve stayed. Close to him but still not kissing him.

"Y-yeah," Eddie said, nodding slightly. Steve smiled and buried his hand on Eddie's hair before leaning in and pressing their lips together.

The kiss was slow and sweet and Eddie was pliant on Steve's hand. For all his attitude, Steve kind of liked to shut him up like that.

Steve was about to pull back when Eddie whined in the back of his throat and pulled him close by the waist. He had no idea where all that came from but before he noticed he was straddling Eddie's lap and kissing him like his life depended on it.

Eddie tasted like cigarettes and Mountain Dew and Steve thought that combination might be his new favorite. He was so responsive as he kissed Steve back, opening his mouth and letting Steve explore as much as he wanted and all that while holding on to his hips.

Steve liked how Eddie's hands curled around him. Like they belonged there.

When it was becoming clear neither of them was interested in stopping, Steve pulled back so he could look at Eddie's face. All he could see was the pure want in his eyes.

"That's a pretty nice first kiss," Steve said playfully and Eddie snorted, squeezing at his waist.

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm glad," Eddie smiled at him and it was the greatest thing ever. "I can't say the same for my part of the deal though."

Steve frowned. "What do you mean?"

Eddie let his head fall back into the couch and closed his eyes. Steve felt his heart hammering in his chest. Had Eddie hated the kiss?

When he opened his eyes there was an intensity behind them that made Steve want to get up and run.

"I can't pretend it doesn't mean anything, Stevie."

Oh.

Before he knew it, Steve was leaning in and stealing another kiss from Eddie's lips. This time when they parted Steve didn't bother moving too far from him.

"Then don't."

[hannieehaee]

idol hani fic plspslspsslspslspsls

content: idol!jeonghan, mentions of enlistment, established relationship, fluff, banter, etc.

wc: 635

a/n: im not sure what inspired me writing about cutting his hair but here we are

masterlist

"do you really have to cut it?", you pouted as jeonghan stood in front of you with scissors in his hands.

as per usual, there was a pleased smile on his face. it didn't matter to him to have to cut his hair, he knew it'd grow back. he just found some sick sort of entertainment in knowing you'd pout and whine about the loss of his hair.

it's not like he had to shave it off like most other people in the military did. all he needed was to get rid of the length, seeing as he had chosen public service rather than actually stationing himself outside of home. the upside was that he'd be able to come home to you every night and that you'd even get to keep him on the weekends. the downside was that his beautiful long hair would not make a comeback until the two year countdown reached zero.

okay, maybe the upsides heavily outweighed the downsides, but you felt like your dramatics regarding his hair were more than fair. especially considering that the demon was forcing you to cut his hair in favor of going to an actual hairstylist.

call it some sick sort of torture.

"it's just a trim, babe. it'll grow back. in two years, but y'know, same thing."

he was far too pleased by your huff in response.

"you suck, yoon jeonghan. i hope you finally learn the torturous life of office workers. karma will come for you one day or another," you scowled at him before gesturing for him to take a seat.

regardless of hair, he'd look handsome as always. this was your one consolation.

"c'mon, babe. you should be happy. you get to have me all to yourself for two years. carats will also suffer the loss of my hair but at least you get me as a consolation prize," he argued as he put on a cover to ensure he didn't get any hair on his clothes.

"yeah, yeah, whatever. they can keep you," you joked back, earning a chuckle from him.

your hands began unknowingly massaging his hair as you searched for where to start. you'd never really cut hair professionally before, and messing with an idol's hair just sounded like blasphemy to you. however, it was also nice to provide jeonghan with such a domestic favor.

it seemed enjoyable for him too. or at least that's the impression his purring gave you every time your hands ran through his hair.

"hmm, wait no, keep going," he grumbled when your hands went to leave his head in order to grab onto the scissors he'd set on the table before sitting.

"i thought you wanted me to cut your hair."

still, you went back to playing with his hair, running your fingers through the long strands that had him sighing at every touch. his eyes closed and his head leaned into your touch, silently encouraging you to continue.

"i was kidding! of course you can't cut my hair. i'm an idol, my hair's worth millions."

pushing the exaggeration aside, you wacked at the side of his head lightly in punishment, earning yourself a high-pitched 'yah!' before halting your movements altogether. this only made him complain even more.

"c'mon, i'll play with your hair if you come to bed," you pulled at his hand, dragging his lethargic body towards your bedroom so you could enjoy the last few moments you had with his hair.

he haphazardly took off the cover and followed along, mumbling one thing or another in complaint at your treatment of him, claiming you held no appreciation for him or that he was more than a pretty doll to drag around. you huffed with a laugh, getting a similar one from him as you finally got him into bed.

[messyhairedhazeleyeddude]

━━━━╝‘ I bet you think about me ’╚━━━━━

A Denji x Fem!Innocent!Reader | A little fluff + SMUT

Contents ; Innocent reader, pervert Denji (nothing changed), peer pressure, corruption, tons of suggestive innuendos, groping, heavy mention of titties, titty-sucking, PDA, guided handjob, thighjob, pornography, non-stop fucking, and obsessive behavior.

A/N ; MYYYYYY FAVORITE! This dude has been deep in my heart ever since I was introduced into CSM. And now, I place the dude above everyone on my preferred list of characters. Especially cause I relate to the man so much. He’s too careless for his own good at times, BAHAHAHAHAH. Okay, enough of me rambling, appreciate my boy and my fine story by reposting and commenting. Whatever you’re feeling for, little readers.

Dynamic ; Kind of FWB?? to Lovers

Sexual Dynamic ; Dom!Denji | Sub!Fem!Reader

P.O.V ; First & Third

Age range ; 18+

Music suggestion ;

[ Denji’s P.O.V ; ]

Today was supposed to be ordinary. Power talked her ass off most of the morning, I would chime in once in a while to joke, and Aki spouted shit at me for everything and anything I did. That’s how it went on in the apartment we lived in. In the middle of the day, we would head for the headquarters. Go back to the stressful life of a Devil Hunter.

But for me, that was nothing. I was more than happy to return to work. A lot of my co-workers complained on and on, sure you get your hands a little bloody, although most of us didn’t care about the slaughtering. It’s not like they were human. Not including the people that got in my way, that was not my fault!

All I knew is that if it meant I got to be entertained by a girl like Makima and fulfill the desires I’ve been dreaming about, that’s cool with me. And the power from Pochita was a huge plus.

Yeah, it was supposed to be another one of those days. Makima would’ve given me a case to solve had it been. But, instead, I was staring at her from across the room, talking to another girl who I didn’t recognize. Hell, was she beautiful though.

Her silky {H/C} hair looked recently done, styled into a braided half ponytail with bangs in the front. Long lashes framing her {E/C}, sweet eyes; the smile she had was enough for me to tell that she would spoil a man to his heart’s content. When my eyes drifted down her body, especially to her ass, I almost didn’t want to believe it. But, I was so sure of it. She passed Makima’s thickness by at least ten percent.

I bit my tongue and swallowed the build-up of spit before making my way to where they stood, pushing my hands in my pockets so nothing showed if I popped one. Often occurrence, do not recommend.

Keeping my eyes ahead, I tried to remain as respectful as I could be while addressing my boss, “Hey, Makima. And…” As soon as I looked over at the pretty girl, I paused so she could say her name, but at the same time, I was freaking out about how much better her appearance was up close.

My brain couldn’t keep up. She had clean, soft skin with a gradient to her cheeks and lips that made me want to go for kissing them, no hesitation. When she glanced back at me, I couldn’t pry my eyes away from hers, watching her reply to me in admiration, “Oh, my name is {Y/N}. I’ve transferred here from Special Division 7… Nice to meet you! You must be the Chainsaw boy she has been telling me about!” God, even her name fit her perfectly.

Wait. Special Division 7? A stopping record player noise sounded off in my head and I turned to Makima for an explanation. The auburn-haired woman was smirking at me like she found my reaction amusing, as always. She leaned forward from her sitting position, resting her chin on her palm, and introduced {Y/N}’s background, “Say hello to the famed Youth Devil, Denji. She’s a beautiful one, isn’t she?”

The Youth Devil? Oh, I’ve heard about her before. Aki talked about coming across someone from a division that had become the Devil that aged people, yet she apparently had no knowledge of anything outside of ‘safe-for-work territory’. Or whatever the fuck he wanted to label it as. Really, that just meant she has no idea how valuable those titties are and that gives me a high chance of getting a squeeze. Or… more.

My gaze had unconsciously drifted to her chest at the thought of that, the button of her white top barely holding because of its size as I forgot to answer Makima. So, being the Youth Devil included being incredibly busty too? Good to know.

It wasn’t until I heard the clear of her throat that I had snapped back into the present and responded without thinking, “Yeah, she is.” Turning red once I realized what I had been doing right in front of the two women, a bit of worry brimming the back of my mind.

{Y/N}’s face lit up at the compliment rather than furrowed and she was quick to thank me, “Awww, you’re so sweet! Thank you, Denji!” And for a minute, I was stuck wide-eyed, half-expecting a slap across the cheek because I was obviously checking her out. Well, I’ll be fucking damned. I guess what Aki was saying about her was true after all.

Before I could get out a ‘You’re welcome’, Makima interrupted by getting off of the desk she was using as a seat, nonchalantly dismissing herself, “I have some things to attend to, so I’m sorry to say, but I’m taking my leave. I hope you find yourself comfortable with Denji, {Y/N}!”

About to pass me up, her intimidating yellow eyes locked onto mine and she leaned to whisper into my ear, “If you want to play with her so badly, why don’t you make her your new toy? You’re strong, right?” Then she walked off as if she didn’t suggest what she just did. My eyebrows and goosebumps raising at the comment. She was encouraging me to do it?

Chewing on my bottom lip, my breathing slowly got worse as I was left with horrible thoughts and a growing erection. {Y/N} not making it any better because she lingered. Don’t get me wrong, I was fine in hanging out with her. More than fine. But, not with all of this also in mind now.

“What’d she say?” She asked, fluttering those long eyelashes at me, and I didn’t know why but when I looked into her {E/C} eyes again— it was like millions of memories were yanked out of my brain and put in them like a projector. Causing me to take a step back and rub away whatever was happening in startled confusion. What the fuck was that?

I blinked away the rest I could, however, I remembered everything so that didn’t help; coming to a conclusion from the look she gave. My head wasn’t the one messing with me, it was her. Or whatever the hell that fucking power is. And I was not cool with that.

Avoiding eye contact by glaring at the floor, I grumbled, “Was that you?” I wasn’t going to hang around for any longer if she wanted to manipulate my mind, especially if it was concerning something like my past. I didn’t want to be reminded. I came here to escape.

A gasp left her like she was frightened before I saw her in my peripheral vision; raising a hand and putting it on her forehead. She took a moment to answer me in a tired voice, “I was just trying to find out more about you… I got too curious, I’m so sorry.”

Hearing her say that was reassuring and gave me the go to stare at her again, my tone dropping back to that same inviting one from earlier, “Oh, shit.. Well, yeah. I don’t have that great of a life so I wouldn’t pry too far.” I tried to shrug it off, rushing to a solution so it didn’t get awkward, “You want to go get some ice cream or something, gorgeous?” It was a last minute suggestion, but that could work.

The {H/C}-haired girl seemed to be near crying before she nodded slowly, a smile rising on her face as she unexpectedly got close to me and intertwined her fingers in mine. Pulling me off along with her while chiming, “Who doesn’t?! I’d love to!” Easier than I thought. But, I’m not complaining.

──⇌• Switch in P.O.V ; Third •⇋──

On the way to the ice-cream shop, Denji stumbled on a couple of rouge devils with {Y/N} in an alleyway and as fate has it with them, they ended up having to chase them down into a field. Faced with the ugly things combining into a whole bundle of disgusting flesh and faces.

She had solved what they were dealing with as soon as they began merging while he did not. Denji didn’t care for details, he wanted to go straight into shredding. He gripped onto his pull cord and tugged, the chainsaws ripping through his skull and arms. Making the curious girl stay behind and observe how he handled the monstrous creature.

With a rush of adrenaline, the now transformed Chainsaw Devil tore into its body, piece by piece. Blood and guts splattered everywhere onto the ground from the relentlessness he had. Getting onto {Y/N} because of how much had sprayed.

He finished when he wanted to. Raging on the thing until it was nothing but a pile of mush left to pitifully sit in the middle of the empty space it sought out for safety.

Then he retracted his chainsaws back into himself, his skin latching and coming together when he did. Molding back into his handsome, worn face. Like nothing happened. Leaving {Y/N} to blankly gaze at him, soaked in red, and drift down to witness the true wrath of Denji.

No doubt was she intimidated by the boy, seeing for herself what Makima had been commending about him. He was the real deal. A true Devil Hunter.

Wiping off the blood from around her mouth, she began to smile and clap with a giddy cheer, “That was impressive! You’re really good to be able to take out a Devil that easily. How long have you been in the game?”

He raised a brow at how she was phrasing their work, confused that she was asking but deciding to respond anyway, “I guess as soon as I could survive on my own, I’ve been hunting. It’s all I’ve known.” Saying it so casually out loud was weird for him. No one usually asks about this type of stuff. Other than when Makima does. But, here was another girl doing it.

{Y/N}’s face twisted into a look of wonder, twinges of sadness in it as she thought about a young boy having to deal with that kind of stress. It made him charming somehow. She felt the need to praise him for it, “The dedication you have to helping people is inspiring.. I hope to achieve the same goal as you, Denji.” A small appreciative smile was sent his way right after she finished.

Although, his attention was completely misplaced. Guess where; her breasts. He was zoned, an idea coming to him when hearing her instead. “My goal? You could help me achieve that, {Y/N},” the blonde beamed. His brown eyes finally getting off of her chest to address her politely.

She moved forward, innocently egging him on, “Oh, really? How?” The way she peered back at him while waiting, that sweet look never leaving her face once, it gave Denji the confidence he needed to elaborate, “Ever since I’ve been thrown into devil-hunting, I only wanted one thing out of it.”

Walking closer, he leaned to where he almost touched foreheads with her, murmuring the last sentence, “A pretty girl who’d let me fondle her body, whenever, wherever…” He felt guilty after saying it, but the eagerness was too much. There was no way he would pass this chance up.

Thinking to herself, she concluded what he was hinting to and thumbed the bottom of her shirt; lifting it over her head and throwing it to the side like it was something natural. He held his breath at the sudden action, the full view in front of him because she wasn’t wearing a bra. ‘This was quick..! Why is she undressing?!’ Panicked thoughts went rampant as he tried to process what to do, glued to admiring her front half while also confused about what her reasoning for this was.

The {E/C}-eyed girl told him it with the purest intention possible, “You seemed to be interested in my chest so I guessed that this is the part of me you wanted to touch? And I was uncomfortable by the bloody mess. But, sorry if I got it wrong! I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable!” Even though she had no clue on what she was truly doing, she still managed to get it dead on. Making Denji chuckle out of excitement.

His sharp teeth poked out in a snarky grin at {Y/N}, his hand reaching over to palm one of her breasts and squeeze. Most of it filling the cracks of his fingers and fitting perfectly, if not a little bigger. That grin of his widened like he was off of his rocker as he got greedy; grabbing both of them to push them together. They were so soft. So fuckable. He wanted to stick his dick in them so badly.

A whimper slipped past her lips and Denji went from eyeing her breasts to looking at her brushing her hair out of the way for him. Butterflies erupting in his stomach at how considerate she was despite him taking advantage of her obliviousness. All he could do was commend and thank her with a red blush across his cheeks, “Thank you… so much. Fuck, I can’t even believe that you’re real right now. Your boobs are so fucking huge..!”

She would’ve laughed at the comment if his touches weren’t affecting her like this, his fingertips brushing past her nipples to mess with them, the perverted bite to his lip drawing a bit of blood to dribble down his chin. The girl arched into the feeling and moaned softly, struggling to speak, “Hah.. Thanks.! W-Wow! Why does that mm-feel good?”

They were out in the open, but Denji wanted to go for the risk. He didn’t care if anyone came across the two of them fucking like animals, he just wanted to do it. And nothing was going to stop him the moment he could tell that she wanted to do it with him too.

He pushed on what she said, using it as bait, “You want me to make you feel better? I can teach you a couple more things… Something that’d make us feel incredible.” And as she was about to reply, he leveled with one of her breasts and gave a lick to the bud; a squeal leaving her instead.

Repeating himself, he mumbled against her nipple, her breath hitching at his sharp teeth grazing it slightly as he talked, “Keep getting yourself undressed, pretty baby… I want to have some fun with you.” He sounded desperate, {Y/N} falling for it and hooking her fingers on her skirt zipper, unzipping it and letting it fall to the ground.

Denji grunted and wrapped his entire mouth around the bud after that, sucking at it while unbuttoning his pants. Digging in his boxers to tug out his throbbing dick so it was no longer suffocated. He made a fist around his shaft and began jerking off, pre-cum forming around his tip the more he tightened on the veiniest part.

She peeked over the side of him to get a look at what he was doing, holding her legs together when she was beginning to feel something wet between them, entranced at his lower half. It looked satisfying to do and he had mentioned playing so it seemed normal to go for. But, she was in for a surprise because as she attempted to replace his hand, he jolted back and huffed, “Woah, woah… I don’t think you want to get that serious. Who knows what I might do to you if you do…”

Honestly, {Y/N} really loved the sound of everything he was talking about and she didn’t want this to end. She wanted it to go further. Her curiosity wasn’t something to tease, she will figure it out, one way or another. So, she swiftly rushed back in front of him and pressed up against him, resting her chin on his collarbone while she barely rested her fingers on the tip. Begging at him for compliance, “Please, sir… I do want to find out…”

He sucked in some air through his teeth and tensed, almost driven crazy from the pleasure of her contact with him there. It was a noticeable difference between her hand and his dick but he could definitely make it work. And after her asking like that, she was in for a treat.

The brown-eyed boy grabbed her wrist to position her fingers at a better angle before he guided it down his shaft, watching her unable to wrap her whole palm around from how thick he was. He groaned, his own sexual frustrations leaving from his mouth as she got to savor them now.

Eventually, {Y/N} caught onto him pushing her to go faster and sped up her movements as best as she could. Joining her other hand to clasp around his cock to stroke everything rather than a portion. Until he ended up impatient and lifted her up with his arms underneath hers, holding around her ass to move himself in the middle of her legs. Slowly sliding in the correct position; his dick melting in between her pussy and thighs.

Denji lowered her onto him now, grinding their pleasure out while they locked eyes with each other in a half-lidded daze. She moaned vicariously, stuttering some words here and then to emphasize what she was experiencing, “It’s making me feel so… weak! Nnghh-ah ah! Chainsaw.. boy.. wait! I feel so weird..!” His hips began to collide with hers as he increased in speed, closing his eyes to pretend he was fucking into her. He didn’t want to get too ahead of himself out in public though. He had to be reminded about the consequences they could face if they were caught.

She was ignored and sputtered nonsense once she got close, “God! I think… I have to go! I have to go! Stop! I don’t- mmppph.. wanna..! DENJI!” The blonde figured it was because she hadn’t cummed before and knowing that he was the one that was gifting her— her first orgasm— made him spiral in a violent fit of thrusting hard into the folds of her pussy, right against her puffy clit.

Whines yelped out of her as her juices poured all over his length, creating sharper wet sounds and more friction for him. His tip swollen by the time he was close to falling off of the edge of cloud nine with her. Once Denji could feel the rush of his cum trying to spill, he gave a final ram and angled it around her hole to allow it into {Y/N} a little. She trembled in his hold, watching him leave her legs, bruised and messy. Satisfaction written all on his face at what he got away with.

They didn’t even clean up the cum when they went back for the office, deciding to do it a couple of hours later despite both of them feeling the slick in their underwear. Instead, they kept glancing at each other, exchanging a knowing stare until someone interrupted it to talk to either one of them. That sexual tension never stopped fucking with Denji. And {Y/N} was simple-minded as always, in her own little world.

But, she didn’t bat an eye when the boy randomly slipped hands into her shirt one day to get a feel or let her know he was horny by pressing his boner against her ass. He would whisper dirty words to her throughout it, coaxing her into doing things, just for him, “I want to go back to messing with you, babydoll… Can we go inside one of those bathrooms? Need to relieve this.”

{Y/N} would go into the bathroom and he would strip her down like she was a doll, his pants to his knees, her chest resting on the sink and displaying her in front of the mirror. He took her virginity in them. Forcing his cock to slam into her walls, reaching for her guts, all to get lost in her warm pussy. Denji growled loudly, echoing in the tiny room they were locked in while he demanded, “Spread yourself for me. I want to see my dick plunging inside that cute body of yours..!”

Only able to comply, she used both of her hands to pull her ass apart, exposed completely for him to see as he got worse in his constant pounding. Making the poor {Y/N} drool while she twitched in ecstasy, her orgasm running through her for the second time when he wouldn’t quit.

His honey brown eyes seemed so sweet at first, but now they were glaring deep at her expressions, resting into a melted one the second he neared his end. Denji released every drop inside without hesitation, her moans rocking out of her because of him slowing down as he humped it into her.

Then he started over in the same rough pace from before and she endured it as much as she could, her eyebrows knitting up into an exasperated, sweaty look. He was like a dog mating when it came to sex; stamina, aggressive, and having a bunch of cum to dump. {Y/N} was holding onto the sides of the glass counter once he had cummed for a second time, burrowing his cock deep like it was a ritual by now.

And he repeated. Leaving the girl to barely understand what was happening to her from the overstimulation. Denji wasn’t stopping. Even as she screamed for him to, “Fuck! Please! Please, master, I can’t handle anymore!” The pet name he directed her to say a regular word for her at this point.

After his seed was spilling out of her on its own and creating a puddle on the floor, after Denji was dry-cumming and making her unravel onto him like she was throwing a fit off of drugs; that’s when he finally gave up and got off of her. Slipping his dick out and shuddering a couple of words laced with dopamine, “Not so bad for our first hook-up… I don’t know if I want to wait for the others.” Was he hinting at going for more rounds? ‘Dear god..’ was the last thing she could think before she dropped unconscious.

Lil Special Extra // Denji’s P.O.V

Weeks had passed by after me and {Y/N} became a ‘thing’. Hooking up led to a lot more and now she was basically at my apartment almost every day. Sure, Aki and Power were annoyed at her presence, not wanting to hear or see any of the exchanges we gave. But, a man’s gotta live and how can he not without slapping his girlfriend’s ass?

However, there was one downside to her staying over and that was her availability in walking in on me doing lots of inappropriate activities. Whether that was jerking off to her or to… porn.

She bursted into my room late at night after having woken up from a nap in the living room and I was right in the middle of rubbing one out to my favorite fantasy porno. Jumping out of my skin when I heard her shout, “Darling, you miss-! Oh…” The small ‘oh’ quieter than the rest.

My hand and dick glistened with the lube I had saved for times like this, a blush covering my face as I snapped the laptop shut. The sounds of sex disappearing with it.

Anxiety raged through me at how she was going to react, completely forgetting that she barely had a grip on anything sexual until she squeaked out, “What was that? Can I… see?” As soon as I heard that, I quickly dropped the embarrassment and those dirty thoughts snapped back into my usual perverted personality.

Shit, I almost didn’t remember who I was and who she was. Beckoning for her to come sit down on my lap once she closed the door.

{Y/N} straddled me and observed as I opened the screen back up to the lewd scene of a woman being bred just like she had been. Her eyes going wide and a blush crossing her cheeks at the similarity. That innocence of hers was going to be ruined real quick around me. And I loved ruining it. Sliding my fingers down in between her legs like usual so I could welcome her to another sexual addiction I’d use for my benefit.

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

NATIONAL ANTHEM- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Rich! Peter x Country Club! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: You work at the local country club as a barcart girl and you run into your crush, aka the son of the richest man in town-Peter Parker. Simple flirting becomes something... more.

Warnings: Making out, suggestive sexual content, dry humping, teasing, swearing, drinking :)

i'm your national anthem, god, you're so handsome- take me to the hamptons, bugatti veyron... he loves to romance 'em, reckless abandon, holding me for ransom, upper echelon -national anthem, lana del rey

Money is the anthem, of success- so before we go out- what’s your address? You hummed along to the sweet melody as it trickled out of the old stereo from your cart, speakers crackling slightly.

It was a hot summers day, you felt a little bead of sweat drip down the back of your neck as you breathed in the fresh air, smelling of fresh cut grass and fancy colone. It was days like this when you were most busy on the golf course, barley able to squeeze in a lunch break before someone came up to you, begging for a whisky sour.

But today you had tucked yourself away in a little hidden spot, a perfect view of scenery, the green hills stretching on for miles.

Sipping on a sweet ice tea from your straw you fiddled with, you watched as Peter Parker braced himself before swinging, club hitting the ball with a clean wack! before thudding down near the hole.

The wind rustled the flag and the fabric of his polo shirt, hair ruffled under his baseball cap.

You tried not to stare but it was impossible.

The way he smiled was intoxicating, and the way he laughed at his friends jokes… god you hoped to make him laugh like that someday.

Though he was almost four years older, the two of you had met during your freshman year of university. You weren’t close, but you werent strangers either. The odd hello was said, a smile and a passing glance in the library from his books.

Now you were practically about to graduate and he was working on his masters, his school out of state. He was home for the summer though, which was nice.

It just meant you could possibly serve him, which also made you anxious beyond belief because that meant you had to talk to him again. You took a bigger sip until you heard the straw suck up the bottom of the glass and the melting ice to ease your butterflies.

Wind in my hair, hand on the back of my neck- I said can we party later on he said yes, yes, yes!

Another deep breath.

He walked in your general direction, but you doubted he could see you. You prayed the low hanging branches covered you, or at least your face. You tried to look out at the rolling hills in the distance, admiring the scenery.

It was very out of your element, but you couldn’t deny the fact it was beautiful here. The ever so fancy country club estate glimmered in the sun, tall hedges trimmed to perfection with roses blooming in the gardens.

You could just see the tall fountain spilling water down, next to the tennis court. Sometimes you worked the bar there, or handed out water and towels, but you preferred being a cart girl.

It made your life much more interesting, to drive around and to see more people. Today you got to see your favourite person.

And apparently he got to see you.

The branches rustled and got pulled to the side, a buff, 6’4 man staring down at you. “Hey sorry, am I bothering you?”

You almost choked on your straw as you bite down on it. “No, no sorry I was just on my break. But how can I help you?”

“Oh shit my bad, I’ll leave you to it-“ He went to turn away, then stopped. Whipped back around.

“Wait- Y/N? Is that you?” Your heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah hey Peter.” you smiled.

“Jeez it’s been a while! I missed seeing you around. How’s life been?”

He missed you?! No, he missed seeing you. That’s different. Get a fucking grip woman.

“I missed you too! Or- wait erm… It’s been good! How’s life at Warner?”

His eyes brightened as you stumbled over your words, pleased you remembered where he was.

“It’s good. Super good. Lots of sunshine, and I’ve made some friends.”

“Not failing anything I hope?” you teased and he laughed.

“No, no I would never. But it’s good to be home for the summer. How’s your program going?” he asked, taking off his hat to run a hand through his messy hair, slicking it back from falling back into his eyes.

You tried not to stare at his arms but it was deemed impossible. His shirt fit him so well, his biceps strained in the fabric as they curled, and you could see whispers of a tattoo on his one arm. Jesus Christ.

“Super good. Almost finished, actually. Not sure what’s next, but working here has helped pay for most of it.”

“That’s awesome, you should be so proud. You’re a hard worker Y/N, seriously. You’ve always been.”

You almost melted at his praise, sinking deep into your seat as your tennis skirt fanned out across your thighs. There was no way he didn’t know about the effect he had on you. He had to know he drove you crazy.

“Thank you so much Peter. It means a lot coming from you.” You beamed.

“Awh shucks. Well anyways, I just came because I saw a cart over here and was going to snag a drink, but if you’re on break I won’t bother you.”

“No, no don’t be silly. What can I get you?” you scrambled up, popping open your cooler filled with ice and drinks. “You’re sure?” he asked, standing closer to you, to see what you had.

You squirmed, shivering even though there was no breeze. “Of course. I’m practically done it anyways. Happy to help.” you smiled, trying your very best to be professional and not look at him like you wanted to rip his clothes off at this very second.

“Just a Heineken please doll.” The pet name was going to make you spirial. Jesus. “That’s all?”

“That’s all. I’m easy like that.” You grabbed a cup, scooping ice before pouring the chilled beer. “Here. It’s on the house.” you handed it to him, setting down the empty glass. He shook his head, fishing into his pocket.

“Don’t be silly. Here-“ he handed you a hundred and your eyes widened in surprise and shock.

“For your troubles.” he smirked. “Peter- I can’t, I can’t take this.”

“Then take this too.” He pulled out a tiny slip of paper, crumped as if it had been in his pocket for some time. You opened it, revealing his phone number in fancy writing- the cursive that reminded you of your grandmothers. A little smiley face was printed next to it, which you mirrored back.

“Have you just had this in your pocket in case you bump into a girl?” you asked, laughing.

“I found out you worked here and I wrote it down, waiting until I had an excuse to bump into you. Now I have one.” he winked, lifted his glass in a cheers motion before turning around, emerging from the forest to jog up to his friends.

You watched him in disbelief, jaw slack on the ground. You fought to pick it back up, trying to not crumple the paper anymore as you held onto it for dear life. A wave of giddiness washed over you, your body hot to the touch, head spinning. Clutching the paper to your chest, you sighed.

Simply hoping something would actually come out of this.

For once in your life.

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

Something was coming out of this. Key word, was. Lines were blurred, and you weren’t sure if it was currently happening, could’ve happened, or had happened.

It had been a week since the original occurrence, when he had you nearly swooning and begging at his feet. Each day was a little game the two of you played, who could spy on each other first.

It had you picking up extra shifts, just to possibly see him that day, or for longer. The past few days you had worked at the bar by the tennis court, watching the ball bounce back and forth until a familiar face found his way to your bar, despite the fact he was on the opposite side of the property, and had bar carts at his disposal.

It made you feel like a teenage girl again, kicking your feet at the slightest interaction. If he wasn’t at your bar, he had found time to walk past your station (which was always very much out of his way), just to give a little wave, or to check up on you.

A few little texts had been exchanged, nothing more then simple, harmless flirting. That’s what you were telling yourself, and that was the story you were sticking to. Nothing more then that. So whenever he came over to fiddle with the straws, or suck the lemon wedge dry without making a face just to prove he could, you smooshed the feelings of need deep down, as much as you could.

Today was no different.

It was hot, one of the hottest days of the summer. You fanned yourself with a clipboard, thankful for the first time you were working in the bar by the tennis court, where it was air conditioned.

You didn’t understand how people could continue to play as if their life depended on it in the hot, beating sun. It was torturous to watch. You were extremely busy, barley getting a moment to sit down and rest your poor, aching feet- dozens of people swarming the bar for a cool drink.

Ice had to be refilled two times already, and you presumed it would be another two times before your shift was over.

“Busy there eh?” a familiar voice called from across the counter, and for the first time all day you were genuinely happy to serve someone.

“You again! It’s almost like you’re stalking me, or something.” you teased, quickly dropping everything you were doing to go over to see him.

“Something like that. Hey listen, I have a question to ask you.”

“It wasn’t me. I didn’t do it, I swear. The cops have nothing on me.” His eyes widened in mock surpise and his hands went up in surrender.

“Woah. Jeez, I’ll let them know. I have no idea how you found out I was working for them but I guess my disguise is shit.”

“It is shit. I’ve been keeping tabs on you to give you tips on how to be more discreet.” He laughed, swatting you with a straw he grabbed.

“No seriously, my parents are out of town and I was going to throw a party, but I won’t unless you come to it.”

“Well shit, that’s a lot of pressure. You’re basing this whole thing on me going, so if I don’t go everyone will be disappointed at me for cancelling it?” you teased, grabbing the ingredients to make his usual.

“Ha ha. Very funny. You know I don’t mean it like that. But I’d like you to come, it wouldn’t be the same without you there.”

“I don’t really socialize, so I’m sure no one would miss me. Plus, no one knows me.”

“I know you. And I would miss you, and you’re the only person I care about in terms of showing up.”

You smiled softly as his confession, trying to play it cool despite the fact your stomach was currently doing cartwheels. You didn’t even know if you were making his drink right, you prayed muscle memory would save you this time.

“You’d miss me? You just wanna talk to me more, do you like me or something?”

“Or something.” he smirked, smacking a twenty on the table, and you didn’t even bother to give him back his change. He refused to accept it back, you had already tried.

“Thanks for the drink sweetcheeks. It’s on Friday, and if you don’t show I’m gonna call the whole thing off, mid party and then everyone’s gonna be pissed at you.”

“Or at you for making up that stupid rule.” you snarked, sliding him over his glass, and grabbing a clean towel to wipe down your space. You could already feel two peoples eyes on you, waiting for a drink. They could wait a little longer.

“Show up then.” he shrugged. “But wait, I don’t even have your address-“ you called after him as he walked towards the exit, back towards to the heat and blinding sun. He waved his phone, without even looking back.

“Good thing we have these then eh sweets?”

“Smartass.” you grumbled under your breath as his laughed, and you watched the door swing behind him as you were stuck behind the bar.

“What can I get you?” you asked the stranger sitting near you, wishing more then anything it was Peter still there instead.

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

He was massive. Wait no- sorry, his house was massive. (Did you seriously think you’d jump the gun that quickly? Get over yourself).

You stared up at it as you emerged from your car, so out of place in this fancy establishment. He lived not only in a gated community but his property was privately gated as well.

Didn’t shock you.

You knew his family was rich, but jesus you didn’t know this rich. Dozens of cars were parked, all range rovers and catialcs as you locked your simple looking black civic.

Oh well. He invited me after all.

You belonged here. You were allowed to be here, no matter how many second thoughts you had looking at the fancy fountain, the perfectly manicured lawn and ferns, a perfect cone shape as they lead up to the massive pillars and white staircase.

You had dealt with snobby rich people before at your job, and you could do it again. Not that Peter was snobby in any way. If anything, he was one of the only ones you knew who was humble and down to earth. Hopefully his friends would be the same.

You smoothed out your mini dress, attempting to get rid of the wrinkles. Nervous, you figited with the pearls on your neck, listening to your heels clack on the pavement before you found yourself up the stairs.

You heard music, but it wasn’t as loud as you expected. No thumping floors or shaking walls, and you couldn’t see any flashing lights. You weren’t even sure what you expected. But it certainly wasn’t this. This seemed oddly calm. You could still clearly hear the cicadas as they chirped outside under the stars.

You lifted your hand to knock, and the double doors swung open as your hand was mid air, mouth opening in confusion.

“You’re not Peter.”

“So you’re observant too. You’re prettier then he described you. He’s been watching out the window for you like he’s on guard duty.”

“Bucky stop flirting with my girl!” a voice called from the other room, and you watched as Peter emerged from the other room, jogging over to you with a smile.

My girl? You fought a smile, trying to pretend his words meant nothing but you lost. Bad.

“Hi. Sorry I was just-“

“Waiting for me. I heard from your friend here. It’s nice to meet you Bucky.” you nodded, laughing as Peter’s cheeks turned a lighter of light pink.

“Likewise. Go into greater detail next time Parker.”

“No, because then you dicks will try to steal her.”

Bucky laughed, walking back in the direction Peter came from, which you assumed was where the main party was. You looked around, surveying the massive foyer- tall pillars also inside, bright chandeliers glistening over the towering staircase.

It was beautiful. You couldn’t help but admire the mural on the ceiling, mimicking a Renaissance style piece.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming. You look beautiful, by the way. I mean you always do- but you look amazing now. Sorry I’m not sure why I’m rambling, I just smoked a joint and I’m nervous.” he trailed on and you laughed, reaching up to touch his bicep in reassurance.

You weren’t sure where the confidence came from, but you were happy about it. His skin was soft and warm, and he leaned into your touch.

“Don’t be nervous. If anything, I’m nervous. This is your party! And it’s so- wow.” you breathed, looking up again at the fresco.

“Everyone’s so excited to meet you. You’ve already met Bucky, I see.”

You giggled. “Hopefully they all like me. Are they friends from school?”

“Some from school, some from home, some from the country club.”

“Ah I see. So a wide variety.”

“Something like that.” he smirked, placing a hand on your lower back as he guided you towards a mysterious hallway. The hand placement. Oh my god the hand placement. You savoured his touch as he guided you, looking up at him despite wearing heels.

Somehow he still towered over you. It made you feel things.

You heard bustle from the room he was guiding you towards, the sound of music leading you onwards. Dozens of people mingled around what looked like a game room. Some lounged on leather couches with drinks in their hands, others playing a round of pool.

You saw Bucky and some others with a deck of cards, others at the bar top. It was spacious, detailed wood panels across the ceiling, with soft lights mounted on the walls, creating a glow. You admired the dozens of paintings perched on the walls, staring at Peter in amazement.

“It’s beautiful here.”

“Thanks.” he smiled, taking it in with you, as if he didn’t see this every day. It made you like him even more somehow, if that was possible.

“Hey everyone this is Y/N. Party is no longer threatened to get cancelled. You’re welcome.” he called out, and everyone cheered.

“To Y/N” Bucky called out in toast, raising his glass. They didn’t even use solo cups. This shit was fancy as fuck.

You laughed, waving to everyone before Peter pulled you aside, the music picking up its tempo as the chatter resumed. “Can I get you a drink? For once?” he asked, and you nodded- following him over to the bar.

“It’s nice to see you behind the counter for once.” you smirked, giggling as he whipped a towel over his shoulder like a real bartender. “What do you mean for once? I will let you know that I am the most prestigious bartender in France. They don’t even call me a bartender, the call me “tender of the bar” " he drawled.

“Just a cider please. I’m easy like that.”

He sighed in relief. “Thank god. I don’t know how to make anything but a whisky sour.”

“Hey, that's a start!” you smiled, watching as he grabbed a chilled glass and slid ice in it, before pouring your drink from the can. “Madame.”

“Thank you, monsior. Mmmm fantastic. You should work with me!” He snorted, throwing the towel down. “They would fire me before I could pick up a glass. You’re too talented, you'd outshine me. You already do.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“You’re being silly.”

“Silly is my middle name.”

“I thought handsome was your middle name?”

“Alright woah now-“

----------------------------------------------------------------- A few hours had passed, and the night was still young. You were drunk, a little- and your shoes had come off. You didn’t know where they went, or where your phone was, or why you were outside with Peter.

But you were outside with Peter. And it was nice.

The air was chill against your skin, but not cold enough you had goosebumps. It was soft against your flushed skin from the alcohol, and you savoured the breeze as it fluttered your dress. Everyone was still inside, but you needed a breather.

You could see the lights shinning brightly from here, where you were on the pool deck. Because of course he had a pool. He also had a tennis court, a golf course, and an indoor pool. No surprises there.

You heard the sliding glass door open and shut, Peter emerging with glasses of water in hand. “I figured you’d want this.” he said, walking over to you with a grin, and a fluster on his cheeks.

“Thank you so much.” you sighed, the water trickling down your hand as you grabbed the ice cold glass, taking a long chug. It cleared your head as it slithered down your throat, relieving your thirst.

“So, is it okay?”

“Is what okay?”

“Here. This. Me.”

You stared at him, cocking your head in interest, attempting to study him. “It’s more than okay. It’s wonderful. You’re wonderful.”

“You think so?” he asked, a glimmer in his eyes as he stepped closer to you, your chests practically touching as he grabbed your empty glass, setting it down beside you.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand slid up, cupping your cheek- thumb brushing your skin making you shiver. Your nipples hardened under his touch- or the chill, you didn’t know.

All you knew was that his eyes were burning holes into yours with the utmost lust you thought you’d simply combust.

“Is it okay if I touch you here doll?”

You nodded.

“What do you want Y/N? Do you want this?” he asked, voice practically begging. The music from the party thudded off the windows, lyrics slipping through the cracks under the doors to echo into your ears.

I sing the national anthem while I am standing over your body hold you like a python, and you can’t keep your hands off me or your pants on, see whatcha done to me, King of Chevron…

“I want this. I want it all.” you murmured, leaning into his touch.

“Can you swim?” he whispered, inching closer and closer to your lips.

Wait- what?

“Ye-” you let out a scream as you felt the world tilt under your feet, tumbling backwards into the hands of a strong man holding your waist. A splash erupted, the world turning a murky dark blue as the music muffled. The water was surprisingly warm as you gasped for air, frantically reaching out for Peter to hold.

He was even warmer than the water despite the cool air, and he laughed as you clung to him, wrapping your legs around his torso, dress hunched up as it stuck to your body like a second skin.

You became very much aware of how his shirt did the same, except it was white, and you could see the perfect outline of his abs and his arm tats.

“Peter what the fuck?!” you shrieked, cut off as his lips crashed to yours, engulfing you with heat and a tenderness you’ve never felt before.

His lips were like pillows as they caressed yours, hands squeezing your thighs, your ass, your waist as he tugged you closer and closer, until your breaths had merged and you had practically become one.

Hands flew up to his hair, tugging on the wet strands as he begged for more, and more- teeth clashing, tongues begging for entrance before they slipped in.

You couldn’t help but moan, breathing harder as his squeezed your ass hard enough to bruise, unleashing whatever restraint he had been holding. You moaned again and he had to pull away, resting his forehead against yours, breathing hard as he watched your mascara smudge and trickle down your cheeks.

“Y/N fuck- if you keep moaning like that… I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” you asked innocently, shivering.

“I’m trying so hard to be a gentleman and not go past this, but if you keep doing that I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself.” he murmured, bringing a hand up to stroke a stray strand of water from your cheek, kissing each one.

“That’s okay.” you smiled, grinding your hips against his, rubbing against him as he moaned.

“Jesus christ baby. Fuck.”

You giggled, feeling his very prominent bulge through his pants. You grabbed his chin, lips melting against his once more, just to get a taste of him. You were addicted- heart thudding in your chest, blood turning to molten lava in your veins.

It was like his lips were coated in honey, so sweet you practically licked them. “You’re just so sweet.” you sighed into his lips, kissing him harder. It wasn’t long before you were interrupted, the sound of a sliding glass door opening.

“You guys almost done out here?” Bucky called out, Peter's head whipping to him in annoyance.

“ What do you want?!” he called out, exasperated. “Steve and I wanna swim. Unless you guys want us to join you, I’m sure there wouldn’t be too many complaints on this end.” Bucky smirked, winking at you.

What a goddamn flirt. You couldn’t help but smile back, even if he had just interrupted the best experience of your entire life.

“We’ll be out in a minute Bucky- calm down.”

“No need!” a voice called from the house, to which Steve ran and cannonballed into the pool, splashing you.

Peter sighed, leaning his forehead back against yours. “I am so sorry about them. This is not as romantic as I had hoped in the slightest.”

“What are you talking about? This is totally romantic. The drenched rat look I’m wearing is what the movies had envisioned.”

He laughed, kissing your forehead with a quick peck, before Bucky jumped in right after. “The most beautiful drenched rat I’ve ever seen. I promise you, we’ll have time for this again.”

“Many times?” you asked flirtatiously, and he nodded.

”Many times.”

“Good. Now, I suppose we should all play mermaids now. What powers do you wanna have?”

[xfgpng]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 -

— : [ nsfw ] yakuza boss toji, arranged marriage, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, pet names, fluff (he’s very ooc with reader, sue me) + breeding kink and mentions of pregnancy

— : wc : 1.9k

when you were first introduced to the zenin clan, you were shy. your father and the head of the zenin family were close, the alliance going as far back to the early 1920’s.

you didn’t ask any questions and like the good and dutiful daughter you were, accepted from the age of 16 that you would be married into their family. you didn’t have any complaints, your parents and older brothers and sisters were always good to you and you felt honoured that your father had chosen you and not one of your sisters.

now, at 23, you were to be married to one of the sons who would rightfully take over the family business as soon as his grandfather passed on.

toji zenin

just looking at him made you squirm. he was big and intimidating and his smile made you feel like he was in on a joke that you didn’t get. still, he was beyond handsome so you had no complaints.

he was always soft with you, different from how aggressive you’ve seen him be to just about anyone else.

“come sit with me baby” he chuckles, watching you leaning awkwardly against the door to his private home office.

“are you busy?” you ask, walking around the large desk to stand next to his chair.

“never too busy for my wife” he smirks, pulling you to sit on his lap. he kisses your temple and then your cheek as he wraps his arm around you.

you can tell that he is actually busy. he has his laptop open and there are stacks of money packed in neat piles on the floor next to his desk.

“couldn’t sleep?” he asks, rubbing your arms softly. it wasn’t necessarily cold in his office but it was cold in the house and the big bed felt empty without your husband.

“not without you” you admit and he laughs. it’s not to mock you, he never makes you feel stupid for your feelings despite everyone telling you how mean and rude he was. you didn’t care, he treated you just fine.

“i’m sorry sweetheart” he sighs, “i’m almost done here”

“toji…” you say, trailing off. you’ve been thinking about this for a month now and you weren’t sure if he was just being nice or if he was just keeping you around to save face.

“what is it?” he asks, turning his laptop off to give you his full attention. he did feel bad for not sleeping with you but he was a busy man and he was still a newlywed. he wasn’t sure how to handle these things all at once.

“i just… do you not want me?” you ask, frowning slightly. you don’t mean to sound so desperate but you were married after all and he hadn’t even…

“what, where is this coming from?” he asks and he seems confused. he turns you in his lap so he can see your face. you really were so cute when you looked so shy.

“you haven’t tried to touch me” you pout, “i know you’re far more experienced than i am but i thought you’d —”

“y/n” he cuts you off, cupping your face gently, “i’ve wanted to fuck you since we were teens”

“hey!”

he laughs, kissing you. you really were the sweetest thing.

“i know you’re a virgin, i would never want to force you into anything unless you’re ready” he says, “and besides”

you look into his eyes and he’s smirking again.

“i’m big, i don’t wanna hurt you” he’s so smug and you’d slap him if you weren’t interested in finding out just how big.

you squirm in his lap, moving your hips against him and he grabs your waist.

“watch it” he narrows his eyes, “i’ll take that as an invitation”

“take me to bed toji-san” you flatter your pretty lashes at him and his jaw clenches. he really couldn’t give a fuck about finishing any work tonight.

“mark your words baby” he warns, scooping you up and heading towards your bedroom.

you kiss his neck, sucking marks into it. you weren’t always like this but you’ve seen the way people look at him and even though he was all yours, you had no problem reminding them that toji was a married man. he was off the market. he was yours.

he grins, titling his head to the side to give you more access and you moan, biting down. he grunts, slapping your ass before laying you down gently on your expensive silk sheets.

“i didn’t know my wife was so slutty” he scoffs, pulling his sweater off in one swift motion. the way he looks standing over you, big and bulky has you squeezing your thighs together.

he licks his lips, pulling your legs apart and leaning down to kiss the inside of your thighs.

“let me get you nice and ready for me yeah?” he bites your thigh in retaliation from your own marking and you gasp, legs falling open wider.

your pretty silk panties are damp and he looks up at you with a smirk.

“that excited for me already baby?” he teases, just to see you try to cover your pretty face with your pillow.

he kisses the inside of your thighs, watching as goosebumps arise. you were so sensitive and he liked that a lot about you. he reaches up to pull your panties down, groaning at the sight of your pretty pussy glistening with your arousal.

you knew you were pretty, you’ve never doubted that but the way he looks at you, makes you feel so beautiful. you think your parents made the right choice when it came to toji.

he kisses your clit, earning a soft whimper from you. flattening his tongue against your pussy, he licks a long stripe from your slit to your clit, wrapping his lips around your sensitive bud as he slips a wet finger into your tight pussy.

his thick finger feels different from your own but it’s still so good, so much better than you even imagined and you find yourself moaning louder for him, grinding your pussy against his face.

he grins, adding another finger before scissoring you open. it hurts just a little but you don’t want him to stop, the pain doing nothing to stop the tingling sensation you’re feeling all over your body.

“feels good baby?” he asks, licking his lips as he watches you fall apart beneath him. it’s so sexy, the way you squeeze and pinch your nipples.

you look so disheveled and fucked out and it’s all for him. he feels his cock throb and twitch knowing he will be the only person to ever see you like this.

“i’m ready for you” you whine, “please, i want it”

he’s too weak to deny you anything and it should scare him but he can’t help the chuckle that leaves his mouth. a sweet thing like you had him wrapped around your finger and you probably didn’t even know that yet.

he strokes his cock a little, watching your eyes widen when you see just how big he is. you’ve never had sex before but you weren’t exactly innocent. you’ve seen porn and his dick was a lot bigger than the ones you used to see on your screen.

it has you unconsciously closing your legs.

“don’t hide from me sweetheart” he grins, “it’s all yours you know?”

he’s teasing you but he wasn’t wrong. all of toji belonged to you in the same way you were his.

he’s careful when he rubs his thick and veiny cock through your folds. you’re so wet and it helps ease the tension he felt. he would never hurt you unless you asked him to. he would do whatever you wanted.

“ready?” he asks, rubbing soothing circles into your hips as he leans down to kiss you softly.

“yeah” you gasp, “want you”

you’ve wanted him since you learned what it was like to please yourself. a silly teenager who didn’t know the first thing about sex aside from what you were taught.

he takes his time, pressing into you. the stretch shocks you and it’s almost enough to distract you from the pain but it does hurt. when his tip pops through, you cry out, eyes squeezing shut.

he kisses you gently, whispering praises as he slowly bottoms out. his eyes widen when he looks down and sees the blood. he’s about to pull out when you wrap around legs around him.

he can see you crying but you’re also smiling. he knows it must feel uncomfortable for you but he mirrors your sweet smile.

“you’re so big” you moan, moving your hips on your own and he bites the inside of his mouth. you’re so wet and tight and your velvety walls welcome him home like he belongs.

“don’t” he groans, “please baby, i need a moment”

he slides out slowly, watching your face for any discomfort. he knows how big he is, he’s always taken pride in his body and he can’t help but feel smug about your moans and whines.

he moans, thrusting back into you. he knew it would feel good but this is nothing like he could ever imagine. he doesn’t want to think about the women he’s been with before you.

he was arrogant when he was younger, refusing to get married to you or waiting. he feels like a piece of shit whenever he thinks about you and how loyal you’ve been, despite his reluctance in the beginning.

“more” you beg, gripping his bicep with the hand that wasn’t gripping the sheets below you. your nails make crescent moons in his skin and he knows it’ll leave marks. he hopes it bleeds too, he wants to feel you all over.

he picks up his pace, enjoying the way your moans get louder, the sound of skin slapping against skin is loud and he wonders if everyone in the house can hear you. he hopes so. you sounded so pretty, he would never get enough of you.

“i love you” he gasps, leaning down to kiss you. he feels you smile against his lips before you wrap your arms around his neck.

he slows down and he almost regrets it. he’s so close to busting his load when he hears you whine and then, “put a baby in me” you say, “fuck me full of your cum toji-san”

he bites your shoulder. he really needs to calm the fuck down. everything is so overwhelming and you’re just so perfect it makes him nervous.

he would be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about it. he’s fucked his fist to the idea of breeding you, stuffing your pussy with his cum until it leaks out but he wouldn’t stop, he’d keep going until you passed out.

“y/n” he warns, feeling your clench around him. you were playing a dangerous game and you clearly knew that. perhaps you did know the power you had over him.

“i want your cum” you plead, kissing his jaw and then his cheek, whispering right into his ear, “i wanna feel you for days, please”

he’ll make you regret messing with him like this.

“safe word” he whispers and he’s not sure why he’s even surprised when you don’t look confused or surprised. you smile so sweetly and oh so innocently up at him when you say,

“sōko”

[spidybaby]

Forgive you, for what?

Summary: After the release of your new song, people start to make rumors about your relationship, making Gavi feel uncomfortable. (Singer!Reader)

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sexy time, implications of cheating.

Face Claim: Emilia Mernes

"Pablo, don't do that." You say, laughing at him hitting your hand away. Making you almost trop the PS5 controller.

You two were playing fifa. He taught you how to play it, and now he loves that you got to be able to beat him on the game.

"I swear to God, princesa." He laughs when you imitate him hitting your hands. "If you win I'm unfollowing you on insta."

Just as he says that, you score the winner goal of the game. You jump happy, laughing at how he sucks and you are the one and only winner.

He grabs you by the waist, pulling you down to lay on top of him. You laugh at him. Arms behind his neck and lips on his face.

You were careful with him, especially after his injury.

"I beat you." You laugh. Kissing his lips.

He loves these moments with you. Just you and him enjoying the company of each other and not thinking about work and all the responsibilities.

You love how his demeanor changed since the injury. You felt your heart being ripped off when you saw him get injured on the field.

With your help and this family, it was a hard way but he made it. You were so proud of him. He loved his progress as much as you loved to see him renewed and fresh.

"Let's cook something, you need to take your vitamins with food." You kiss his nose, making him scrunch it. "C'mon, mi amorcito."

He hugs you tightly, kissing your cheeks. He loves how shy and red you get when he focus his attention on your cheeks.

"I want a picture with you to remember how happy we are. Put on your shades." You reach over your phone and to where his shades were. Putting them on his face. "Di quesoooo." You smile at the camera.

"Quesoooo" He repeats. Laughing after a few pictures. You kiss his face while taking a few more. "Are you posting me on social media?" He asks, pretending to be serious.

"Why you care?" You follow his game. "You are going to unfollow me." You stick your tongue out for him.

"Maybe an appreciation post will make me follow you again." He jokes. Getting up from the couch and pulling you lightly. "Let's make Mac and cheese." He begs.

You nod, asking him to take the things you'll use. You grab your phone and choose a picture to post on your insta story.

Yourusername has added to close friends

You tagged him, even when the boy only goes on insta to repost something from the barca profile. And even when he can't repost it.

"Princesa, everything's ready." He calls you from the kitchen. "Ven, mi amor."

You smile, loving how he always picks the right way to call you and melt you from love at the same time.

🌸🌸🌸

"Perdonarte, para qué?

Para que vuelvas a fallarme otra vez?

No muchas gracias, ese chiste ya no me hace gracia."

You sing the lyrics to your new song that you have been working on with the Mexican group Los Angeles Azules.

You loved them since you were a child, and for you to be singing and filming a music video with them is a dream come true.

"You look amazing." The lead singer of the group tells you. "We heard your album when it got out and now on our way here to be able to get your energy."

"That's so sweet." You smile, hugging him. "My mom is going crazy about me being here with you. She's a big fan. We are."

You talk with all of them a little bit. Joking while filming. It was all so fun for you and to them too.

"Okay, take three. Y/n, from the beginning."

"Get over me, forget me

And think that it was just a dream what you lived with me

Get it together

There won't be any more pages of the best story you've read

With that, I say goodbye

Please, better not call me

I don't even want you as a friend

Forgive you, for what?

For you to fail me again?

No, thank you very much

That joke is not funny anymore." You sing the song while the music is playing over it.

Yourusername

Liked by pablogavi, angelesazulesmx and 2,573,837 others

Yourusername can't wait for this to be out. See you tomorrow ❤️💋

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angelesazulesmx 🤩🤩🤩

pablogavi ❤️

"Can you please tell me what this secret project is about?" Pablo begs. "Mi amor, I'm nosy." He pouts.

"I know, precioso." You laugh. "But I want you to see it the day it comes out and tell me your real reaction to it."

"I can do that right now." He pouts again.

"No, papi." You shake your head no. "That's not going to happen."

He understood your motives, you always show him your projects before hearing them, except the ones you want him to feel in real time.

"Hey, why did you unfollow me on insta?" You jokingly yell at him. "Amor, why?" You laugh.

"I told you I would." He laughs. "I did, I go by my word."

You talk with him for a little while. Packing your things to go back to Spain to practice for your tour leg in Europe.

"Did you tell her, Pablo?" You hear Aurora in the back of the call.

"Si." He shouts. "Amor, Aurora wants you to have lunch with her as soon as you land in Barcelona. Because she's leaving to Sevilla."

"Yes, tell Aurorita that I want that."

"I'll text you." Aurora yells again.

You laugh at her. You love his family, and you are very thankful that they love you back. It was a big piece in your relationship. The approval and love of your families.

"I have to go, I need to finish packing." You say as your phone pulls the notification of low battery. "Te amo, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait, don't come here, I'll come to you." He mentions quickly. "When are you landing?"

"I think at like 2 p.m." You say with doubt. "I'll text you when Aurora and I are done."

"Vale, te amo."

"Te amo más, see you soon, papi."

"See you soon, mami." He blows a kiss to you.

🌸🌸🌸

The song is out, and the Spanish press is making a huge deal out of it.

holacom

Liked by 24,574

holacom International singer Y/n released her new song in collaboration with Los Angeles Azules, a Mexican cumbian group, the song "Forgive you, for what?" became number one in multiple countries.

Fans are wondering if this new title has to do with Gavi, number six on the Barça first team, unfollowing her and about previous cheating rumors from the footballer.

(📸 @yourusername and @pablogavi)

Pablo hates when the media makes up rumors about you, and he definitely hates when they make rumors about your relationship.

When he heard the song, he never thought it was about you two or any situation that you two went through.

He was loyal to you. He can't be with anyone else when he has everything he ever wanted with you.

"Please, mi amor. Answer your phone." He tries one more time to FaceTime you. When the call goes to nothing. He feels frustrated. "Rora, please try one more time." He begs.

Aurora does. She tried to text you all morning, but the last text she got from you was before your plane took over. That was more than 15 hours ago.

"Nothing." She sighs, seeing his brother lose his mind over the tabloids. "Pablo, there has to be a reason. She won't just not answer you."

She feels cursed. Just when Pablo was relaxing, a notification popped up on his phone. You posted an instagram post.

yourusername

Liked by angelesazulesmx, mariabecerra and 5,485,486 others

Yourusername Gracias! I want to thank all of you for your amazing support and love to Perdonarte, para qué? (Forgive you, for what?)

Thank you so much to Los Angeles Azules and to everybody who worked hard to be able to make this possible. Forever in my heart ❤️

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pablogavisgirl pls don't tell me this is about Gavi😭😭😭

y/nfan1 love the song but pls tell us this isn't a confirmation of the rumors of Gavi cheating on you

gavihater1 happy you finally realized he was not worthy and that you are too much for him anyway

His face drop, why weren't you answering him but you were posting?

He wants to yell, he wants to throw his phone to the wall and pretend this shitshow isn't happening.

"I need to be alone for a moment." He excuses himself to his sister.

But in the United States airport, you were locked in a room with no phone and no way of communicating to anyone.

"How much until she can leave?" You manager asks the immigration guy. "This is ridiculous. She's a singer, and her visa is only a day into the six months rule."

"Ma'am I don't make the rules. But this is my job, and I can't just let her break the law just cause she is a singer."

"I know, I'm not asking you to break anything. I'm just telling you that it's been seven hours since we landed here. We already told you and showed you proof that this is just a connection flight."

You were mad. You were supposed to be in the United States for only an hour and you already spent seven hours while the immigration officer confirmed the story that you were a singer and your trip to Barcelona was with working purposes.

All because your visa was one day into the six months limit where you can't fly. That was an honest mistake from your manager, you can't blame her.

"Can I at least have some food?" You ask the police who was with you in the room. "Please."

He ignores you. You were mad, you were just passing by, not like you were colonizing their land.

"Okay, you are free to go." The same immigration dude came to open the door for you. "Good luck at your concert."

You didn't even flash a smile. You wanted to give him a piece of your mind, but you weren't. "Good night." You say.

You hug your manager. Telling her how tired you were and how you needed food and a long sleep.

"You'll have seven hours to do that." She walks with you. "I got us a private jet, no more stupid commercial flights."

"And good thing is that your song is number one on the charts." Your assistant tells you. "And I posted a thank you to Los Angeles Azules and to your fans."

You don't even have the energy to care about a post or anything. "My phone is dead." You mention. "I was on like 10% before they took me in"

You walk to a coffee shop, getting something to drink while your assistant got you something to eat.

"Here." She hands you the food. "And your phone is charging. Here." She left the phone with the power bank attached.

You calmly eat while watching a movie. When you have more energy to finally do more than just be a potato, you pick your phone.

Your eyes widen at the sight of all the missing calls from Pablo, Aurora and your friends. "I have to call Pablo." You say.

"No." Your manager snatchs your phone off your hands. "You need sleep, Pablo is probably worry and that's okay, but sleep."

She didn't want you to find out about the drama the tabloids are doing. She wants you to get to Barcelona with at least a little energy and then deal with it.

y/n.hq

Liked by aurorapaezg, antonellaroccuzzo and other 1,472,380 others

y/n.hq three randoms. One you'll understand later, one listening to Perdonarte, para qué? and one before our plane took out to Barcelona, where the new leg of the tour began.

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gavihater2 love how you are ignoring everything about that excuse of a player

y/nfan2 amore, please tell us you and Gavi aren't done 😭😭😭

_ferminlopez can I get free tickets?

bcnboyslover FERMIN NOT YOU HERE 😭

gavilover34 baby you can afford them

gaviandy/nlover is this the way they tell us everything is fine and they're still together? Fermin?

"C'mon Pablo, please pick up." You try one more time. "Papi, I need you. Answer" You whisper, nervous about the whole drama that the media pulled.

When you landed in Barcelona, it was 11 pm. So you needed your bed and a pill to be able to sleep all night.

The repercussions came when you woke up to your friends blowing your phone with questions about Gavi, Aurora asking you if you were okay and to call her and the worst.

Pablo texting you that he was hurt that you weren't answering, you were just letting the fire get to him about something you denied him access. And asking you if that was your plan for the beginning.

You called Aurora, who was in Sevilla at that point. You explained to her what happened, and she understood your tired state. Not blaming you for what you did as soon as you landed.

She texted Pablo, asking him to let you explain yourself, how you wouldn't do what he thinks you did.

But you weren't going to wait until his mad state is over. You needed to talk to him face to face, and even if he didn't want it to, you do.

You open the door of his house with your spare key. "Pablo!" You yell for him to hear that it was you. "Pablo Martín!" You yell again.

You walk to his kitchen, nothing. The living room, nothing. His room, nothing again.

You were nervous, he wasn't there. You pase around thinking where he was. Was he with Fermin? Was he with Pedri? At one of la masia boys? Where?

You were so into your mind that you don't hear the front door being open or the steps coming to the bedroom.

But you do scream when the door is fully open in a quick motion. Making Pablo jump scared. "Por la puta, qué mierda?" He asks, hand on his heart.

"Pablo!" You say happy, hugging him and kissing his face. His hands are on your sides, not really hugging you, more like keeping you steady. "Mi amor, I'm sorry about not being able to answer. I was trapped and I wasn't able to take my flight."

"Y por qué si pudiste subir fotos?" He asks, pushing you away from him. "Hmm?" (And why did you have time to post?)

"I didn't, papi, that was my assistant." You try to explain. "Papi, I would never do anything to hurt you."

"Well, you did." He walks into the bathroom, ignoring you while taking his clothes off. Ready to take a shower.

"Pablo, please!"

He got into the shower, not caring that you were there. Nothing you haven't seen before, so you walked into the bathroom.

You open the glass door. Water slashing all over your shoes and legs. "Pablo, I'm not going anywhere."

"Entonces quédate ahí." (Then stay there) he continued with hos shower routine without a care in the world.

You close the door. Removing your shoes and clothes, except for your underwear. You weren't giving up just like that.

"Mira, Pablo." You grab his shoulders, hands removing the foam from his forehead to he could see you. "I was forced to stay at a freaking two meters office with a very mean police dude in New York." You explain.

He pays attention, even though he doesn't want to, he respects you enough to hear you.

"I was tired, I was jet lagged, I was hungry and thirsty, but I couldn't even move without the dude reaching for his taser."

You feel your eyes watering. You were stressed. The song was supposed to be something good. You with your favorite cumbia group, doing a Spanish language song after two English albums. Not this mess.

"I was tired." You cry. "And I wanted my boyfriend to understand. But he is too busy playing the hurt one when he knows I would never be the type to leave him with a song. Especially after talking to him on the phone and saying I love you."

You back away from him. Letting him see you discomfort. He felt bad, all that anger, and the words he sent you over text weren't even reasonable. You were right.

"I'm sorry." You say. "I should have asked my assistant to text you something to let you know I was okay. I'm I haven't been able to clean your name from the drama. I just want us to be okay. Is that possible?"

He nods, and you hug him carefully. Not wanting to take a bad step and slip I to the shower.

"Te amo, please don't ever think I don't." You say. "And if I don't contact you after a flight, please know it's because I was: a, put into custody of the immigration department. b, probably death asleep. And c, maybe in the air with no phone battery."

You make him laugh, the sound of it being the only thing you needed.

"Te amo, princesa." He kisses your forehead. "I was an insecure person, and I'm sorry about it. I'm sorry about that text. Maybe all the shit did got to my head."

"Then let's wash it off." You interrupt him, joking about his hair having shampoo and foam. "It's okay, I get insecure too. And just like you do, I'll be here to make you not feel like it." You kiss him. You quickly pull away. "Maybe let's take this shampoo off of you, it taste terrible."

He laughs, pulling you a little to the water falling. "What if you let me help you shower that tension away?" He asks, kissing your neck.

"Your injury." You remind him.

"Don't worry, I have my hands to do the work for me." He smirks, hands traveling to the elastic of your panties. "I love you."

"Really?" You ask, breathlessly. You kiss him. Your hands reach for the lock on your bra, undoing it. "Show me." You say, taking the remaining clothes off.

yourusername

Liked by aurorapaezg, pablogavi, _ferminlopez and 6,483,382 others

yourusername a little appreciation post for this amazing boy, who also happens to be my boyfriend and one of my biggest supporters.

I love you to the moon and back. Thank you for everything, Pablo ❤️ You are the 6 on the pitch, but the 1 in my heart 🌸✨️❤️

View all 568,448 comments

aurorapaezg los amo mucho ❤️

yourusername te amamos ❤️✨️

pablogavi I love you, my one 🌸✨️❤️

gavifan1 AHHH HE'S USING HER EMOJIS😭❤️

gadrilover he calls her my one 🥺🥺🥺

_ferminlopez romantic much?

_ferminlopez so about those free tickets 😗

yourusername no ❤️

pablogavi 🤣🤣🤣

_ferminlopez @yourusername wow 👌🏻

[ashwhowrites]

Ahhhh I've been so excited since you mentioned Buffy universe, so obviously I NEED to make a request (i have too much ideas, but I'll try to calm down 😅)

I was thinking about human reader x Spike (my love ❤️). Spike is so madly in love with her that scooby gang has fun watching it, but it is kind of adorable even for them.

One day Spike heard about Angel's visit in town and since then he tries to keep reader far from scooby gang and Angel.

He's telling himself he's not scared of losing reader to Angel because their relationship is strong and mature (not like his previous one) but he's insecure that reader could choose broody handsome brunette because of this all good things he's done

And with happy end pretty please

(I'm so happy, somebody wants to write about buffyverse 🎉🎉🎉)

Thank you for your time 💜💜💜

I'm so in love with Spike so I get it!

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. It feels very weird to write about a different character so I hope it feels like Spike. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Ugh, not Angel

"So does this mean Spike gets to help?" Y/N asked with glee. She knew many of her friends didn't enjoy it when her boyfriend was around but at times she didn't care.

"I say we can do it without the blood-sucking vampire," Xander said as he rolled his eyes. Y/N shot him a glare.

"Be nice, Xander," Willow reminded him.

"Even though I hate to say it, we need Spike's help," Buffy said with disappointment.

~

"The man of the hour has arrived!" Spike said as he walked into Buffy's house. Y/N walked in behind him and closed the door. Together they walked to Buffy's couch and took a seat.

Giles and Buffy explained the plan but Spike was far from listening. His girl was tucked under his arm; all he could focus on was her face. He watched as she listened intently, nodding to what she agreed.

"Spike!" Buffy snapped, clapping her hands. The vampire was quick to look over at her with a snarl. "Pay attention!"

"Oh Buffy, don't be jealous," Spike teased giving her a small amount of attention before he went back to Y/N.

"Listen," Y/N warned, nodding her head toward Buffy. He listened to her, as he always did.

"Weren't you like a terrifying vampire before you got pussy whipped?" Xander joked. Buffy smirked at the comment but made sure not to laugh.

"I can still tear your throat out," Spike growled, biting the air. "I'm not pussy whipped. I just happen to worship the ground my darling walks on."

Y/N tried not to blush at Spike's words. His accent always made her heart race.

"Yeah, Xander! Would it kill you to worship me like that?" Anya complained. Xander groaned as he knew a new fight would happen by the time he went home.

"Quiet!" Giles said, gaining everyone's attention.

~~~

Spike was watching TV in his crypt when he heard someone enter. He turned his head and groaned to himself as Buffy walked in.

"Oh great the slayer," he said, clicking off the TV.

"It looks different here," Buffy realized, looking around. There were candles near the bed, which were covered in fuzzy pillows. There were twinkle lights hung up, for once giving the dark crypt some light.

"What do you need?" Spike asked, ignoring her comments.

"Y/N has a nice touch," Buffy smirked. Spike shifted uncomfortably in his chair, but a sense of pride in his cold chest knowing she was displayed in his home.

"Get to the damn point, slayer."

"Angel's back," Buffy sighed.

Spike quickly flew out of his chair, an unsettling feeling in his stomach.

"Why?" Spike growled. Spike and Angel didn't get along too well. Both vampires but Angel was the better one in people's opinion. Spike didn't tend to care about the comparison but Y/N had never met Angel before and he wanted to keep it that way. "Actually I don't even care." He sassed. Buffy watched confused as he ran out.

~

Y/N was painting her toes when Spike let himself into her bedroom. She looked up with a smile as she smelled him.

"Hello, handsome,"

Spike smiled as she went back to focusing on her toes, moving to sit on the hard floor. He didn't say anything as he grabbed the polish from her hands and began to paint her toes.

She smiled as she let him take over. She adored moments like this with him. When he was doing human things with her. She reached down and ran her fingers through his blonde hair, messing up the perfection it always was. He'd bite off anyone's hand if they touched him like that but it was her so he didn't mind.

"I'm glad you stopped by. The gang is having a movie night, would you like to come?"

Spike took his time painting her toes. The truth was, he didn't want her to go. He was worried Angel would show up with his stupid dark hair, charming personality, and a face that apparently many girls liked.

"Spike?" She said as he sat in silence.

"Could we maybe have the night alone together?" He looked up at her and she was taken back from the insecurity in his eyes.

"Sure, baby. Let me give them a call," she said as she ruffled his hair.

~~~

Spike did his best to keep her away from Angel and tried to keep it secretive. Spike wasn't sure how long Angel would be around but it had been a week too long. Y/N loved Spike so spending all the time with him wasn't a bad thing, but she was worried.

Spike was always confident and loved being seen by others. Even though Y/N hated it, he enjoyed the looks he got from women. He didn't get along with many of her friends but he never was this distant with them. Y/N worried something was going on and she was left in the dark about it.

The couple sat in silence as they watched Passions, even after a year of being with Spike she didn't see the appeal in the show. It had been a week since she left Spike's side. Anytime she made a comment to leave he went into a panic and begged her to stay. Adding to the worry she was feeling.

"Spike," Y/N said, nudging her boyfriend in the arm. His eyes dashed over to her. "Is there something going on between you and my friends? And I know you love me, but there's a reason why you don't want me to leave your side and I want to know."

"Darling, I have to confess something," Spike sighed.

"If you cheated on me I will have Buffy here to kill your ass in a second," Y/N warned. Her eyes squinting into a glare that sent a shiver down Spike's spine.

"Never!" he exclaimed. "Do you remember the stories of Buffy's ex Angel?"

"A little," Y/N said shrugging.

"He's a vampire and pretty much everyone fell in love with him when he was around. Buffy, Willow, and well Xander hated him like he does me, but they saw something good in him. It didn't matter how well-behaved I was, they always picked him for help. Whenever he is around, I'm not needed. I was worried his charm would work on you."

Y/N was in awe of Spike feeling a variety of emotions. She didn't think he felt much other than love and lust.

"You were worried I'd fall for him?" Y/N asked, reaching out to cup Spike's face.

Spike tried to show no emotion, "Not quite what I said. I mean look at me, I am way more of a catch." Y/N laughed at his words, allowing him to feel what he needed.

"Well, if you were saying that I'd make sure to say that I love you. I don't think there is anyone dead or alive that would make me feel the way you do. No one will take me from you." She leaned in and pressed her forehead against his.

He closed his eyes and nudged his nose against hers. Her words sank in and took the weight off his body. He opened his eyes and smiled as she stared at him. He leaned in and pressed a kiss against his lips.

~

With a lot of convincing sex, Y/N got Spike out of his cave. Her hand was in his as they walked into Buffy's house. The gang all said hello and Y/N noticed the new face.

She turned her head as she checked him out, Spike standing taller as he squeezed her hand. She shook her head and turned to Spike, moving to whisper in his ear. "Not even close."

Spike smirked at her words, his confidence taking over. "Well, Angel. I wish I would say nice to see you but it's not."

Angel scoffed but walked over, his eyes landing on the girl next to him. "She's new," Angel smiled. "Prettier than the last one."

Spike stiffened at Angel's words and the mention of Drusilla. The images of her and Angel together in his head were the exact reason he feared for Y/N to see him.

"I'm Y/N, Spike's girlfriend."

Spike smiled at her. Maybe he didn't need to worry about this one.

[causenessus]

💍 + 🩷 + SUNARIN !

see you at the altar. | suna r.

ree. i love you. thank u for this.

suna x f!reader

written in 2nd pov bc i wanted to (ahem. self shipping/projecting a little bit. just maybe.)

prompts from 1k followers event: 💍 -> wedding & 🩷 -> "can i come in?"

"so love me with reservations to every restaurant. walk me down your street pretending we're the only ones <3" from only ones by ruru

word count: 1.3k words

notes: fluff <333 and a little bit of flirting/sexual jokes, mentions of the garter toss so there's your warning. IT'S YOUR WEDDING DAY!!

you try to push down the feeling of anxiety in your chest, sucking in a breath as hitoka tightens your dress from behind.

“you look gorgeous,” your friend says, smiling at you in the mirror you're both facing.

“i look gorgeous in the dress you made,” you respond, returning the smile. “thank you so much, hitoka. you helped me plan everything out on top of making this dress, and i still can’t believe you’re letting me model and wear it in the first place. do you know how many girls would kill to be wearing something like this?”

hitoka only laughs, shaking her head as she tries to deny the compliment. “it really wasn’t a big deal. i’m just doing my job as your maid of honor and best friend. i want to support you in every way. do you need anything else?” she asks as she steps away, giving you one final lookover. she steps forward to fix the angle of one of the roses braided into your hair before stepping back with a smile, admiring her handiwork.

“will you go check on the rest of the bridesmaids? i know i kicked them out just now because the jitters were getting to me, but i still want to make sure they’re doing okay,” you ask, looking at yourself in the mirror.

“of course!” hitoka responds, making her way to the door, “i’ll be right–”

when she stops talking, you turn towards her with a quizzical look. “everything alright, hitoka?”

“oh, more than alright,” the blonde says, turning back towards you with the biggest smile on her face. “you have a visitor!” she exclaims with a giggle before quickly stepping through the doorway and shutting the door.

“well then why did you close the door…?” you say, although you know hitoka’s already walked away from the door and can’t hear you anymore. you approach the door, moving to open it when a knock against it makes you freeze.

“y/n?” the voice on the other side of the door is slightly muffled, but you could recognize that voice anywhere.

your heart rate spikes just at his voice, “rin?”

“yeah. can i come in?”

you almost want to say yes, and you can’t stop the lovesick smile that makes its way onto your face before you respond, “no, you can’t.”

you can already imagine what he looks like, standing on the other side of the door in his suit; the way his hand is already hovering over the handle, and how his brows furrow at your response, “why not?” he asks.

you can’t help but laugh, leaning your back against the door, “because it’s bad luck for us to see each other before the wedding, silly. that’s like the oldest wives tale alive.”

maybe he hears you press your back to the door because you hear a thump, and you mirror each other without even knowing it as you both slide down the floor. you're probably getting your dress dirty, but you can’t find it in you to care. when you're with him, he’s all you need.

“that’s stupid,” he sighs, “why do we even believe in that? maybe someone made that up just to make people suffer more.”

“you’re not going to suffer,” you reply, wishing you could see him or hold his hand. “we’ll see each other soon and it’ll all be worth it. it’s like we’re building up to see each other. i can’t wait to see you in your suit, standing there, waiting for me...” you trail off, closing your eyes and imagining the entire ceremony. a feeling of thrill encases you at the realization: this entire day is for you both. everything is for you and him. to celebrate coming together forever. “will you cry when you see me?” you ask, your curiosity getting the best of you. you're not even sure what his answer will be. neither of you cried very often, and you weren’t sure if it’d be more heartfelt to see a big smile on his face or tears in his eyes.

“yeah,” he answers immediately, causing you to open your eyes in surprise.

“really?” you ask, beginning to play with the trim of your dress.

“definitely. and i told atsumu if i don’t cry immediately he gets to punch me in the face but i’m pretty sure just seeing you when those doors open will be enough,” he explains. “i guess you’re right about that superstition– now i’m really excited to see you in your dress.”

you laugh at his initial statement, “why would you tell him to punch you in the face? then i’ll have to take care of your bloody nose.”

“who said i didn’t want that?” you can hear the smile in his voice, “if i don’t cry the moment i see my wife, then i deserve a broken nose. and maybe that’ll make me cry.”

your heart skips a beat at the word. you’ll officially be his wife in a few hours, and he’ll be your husband. you sigh, “i guess i should have expected something like this from you and the twins. i’m glad they could both make it.”

he hums in thought, “i think they heard you mention the garter toss and decided that this was the most important event of their lives.”

your face warms at the thought. it had been your initial idea, surprising even rintarou, but he had supported you nonetheless (“it won’t be the first time we’ve done something like that,” he’d said in a teasing voice that made your knees weak). you’d been slightly worried about it; having him under your dress, surrounded by all of your friends while his teeth were dragging a flimsy piece of lace down your thigh would definitely be a moment worth remembering.

“what’s wrong? cat got your tongue?” he gibes. “are you still up for the toss? we can always say we don’t wanna do it anymore.”

“no no it’s fine,” you put your head in your hands before sitting back up straight, knowing hitoka will scold you if you messes up your hair or makeup. “i just kinda forgot about it with everything else going on today. i’m a little nervous for it, but i’m excited.”

you hear him laugh and you know your face is red, aware of how wrong it sounds. “i never realized you enjoyed that kind of stuff so much,” he continues to poke fun at you. “i’ll make sure to tease you when we’re out more often. especially when you wear that cute skirt of yours.”

“rin!” you scold, unable to keep quiet anymore, “i didn’t mean it like that.”

“oh? what did you mean then?” he eggs you on. you can’t find a proper excuse or response. the only way that sentence could be interpreted in this context was “i’m excited to have you under my dress” but you didn’t want to say that. he laughs again, “do you just like it when i’m between your legs?”

you whine out of embarrassment, standing up and dusting off the back of your dress as best as you can, “i can’t believe you, rin.”

“you must really love me if i can have this kind of effect on you just with my voice,” he responds, and you hear him stand up too.

“well, i am marrying you after all,” you sigh, trying to look yourself over in the mirror on the wall to your right.

“i’m a lucky man,” he says. “i love you, y/n. i’ll see you soon.”

“see you at the altar, rin,” you smile, pressing a hand to the door separating you both. maybe you're making it up in your head, but you think you can feel his hand against the door as well. if the wooden barrier wasn’t there, you'd intertwine hands. you’d see him in his suit, and he’d see you in your dress. that would be your reality soon enough, anyway.

“i love you so much, suna rintarou.”

[oimitocat]

MIND ME | HC

txt ot5 (separately) x gn!reader

reacting to reader with dark/trauma humor + implied past suicidal tendencies + implied past trauma + coping with humor + therapy sessions + idol au! + implied eating disorders

a/n: literally fair warning, if you can’t handle it, move on. this is fiction but with real life tendencies.

—HUENING KAI

one day you had to do your therapy session over the phone due to your busy schedule. kai had come in to sit with you as your session was close to an end. the basic “see you next time, call me if you need to chat or have questions” thing goes on and then you hang up.

he’s comfortable in your bed, you crawl in to cuddle with him.

“anything new?” he asks, he’s always so caring, so tender.

“nah.” then you pause, smiling.

“what is it?” he asks, “why are you smiling?”

you shake your head, “just remembered this joke i made to my therapist.”

“a joke?” he asks, curious.

you watch him, smiling at the mess of his hair. “so like, i use to self harm-“ his eyes widen a bit, yet he quickly fixes his expression, “-and so she asked if i still do it and i joked and said ‘no i have alcohol now’…” you sigh, “she didn’t laugh.”

and you bust out laughing when kai purses his lips, unsure if he should cry or find it funny either.

“y/n!”

“kai! i don’t drink! be for real!” you cackle as your cuddle him, easing his worries.

—CHOI BEOMGYU

“y/n, do you want to stay with me and keep practicing?”

“what? you’re saying i suck and need to keep practicing?”

beomgyu gasps, “no! what? i just- well the step we keep messing up! we should practice it!”

“so you’re saying i’m bad at it and you’re covering it by saying we both do? great, another thing i’m bad at.”

“what’s the other thing you’re supposedly bad at!” he argues, smiling at you.

“oh it’s a long list,” you say with a grin.

“as if.”

“no for real,” you pick up your water bottle, back facing his, “killing myself is number one. apparently i’m bad at it.” you shake your head before pausing.

“what?”

“i’m joking,” you say quickly, seeing the worry in his eyes. “beomgyu.”

“ah…” he just watches you, messing with his water bottle. “am i allowed to laugh when you joke like that?”

“if you want, i don’t care. would be preferable.” you pat his back, “let’s practice yeah?”

—KANG TAEHYUN

you were watching people getting their bones popped. it’s crazy what areas can be popped to soothe the body. yet you and taehyun were cringing and laughing.

“oh- ah!” taehyun flinches, watching how they popped someone’s neck.

“dude maybe i should go get my neck snapped.”

“don’t you mean popped?” he asks, smiling at your silliness.

you shake your head, “no. i mean snapped.”

taehyun rolls his eyes, “you wanna die or something?”

“always have.” and you get a smack on the arm, to which you laugh at. he knows your joking, and that makes you feel warm.

—CHOI SOOBIN

literally you love food. sadly the industry makes you develop a decently bad relationship with it sometimes. so, one day you’re eating sweet bread and go- “shit, i’m supposed to be on a diet for our comeback.”

“huh? why?” soobin frowns. “wait, really?”

“it’s okay, i’ll just starve until then, it’ll be like this never happened.”

“y/n, what?”

you glance at him while chewing, “what?”

“why the hell would you starve?” he eyes you, “wait, what does your diet consist of then?”

“coffee and antidepressants.” you joke.

“funny.”

“i know.”

—CHOI YEONJUN

it’s a task. literally, all of you are on a reality show and you have to fill out a questionnaire or something. you’re thinking on this question.

“what’s wrong?” yeonjun asks you while beomgyu and soobin make ruckus about what their answers are.

“i’m not sure what to put.”

“y/n, it’s basic questions.”

“that’s what my therapist said and then i was diagnosed a bunch of stuff.”

“the question is literally what’s your favorite childhood memory?”

“so about that, i don’t remember cus apparently — fun fact, when you experience some sort of trauma as a kid your mind blocks any memory during that age and time. i don’t remember shit,” you whisper. “what am i supposed to put? that my mom beat me with a spoon until i finished my homework?”

he stares at you, unsure what to do with that bomb drop. he knows you cope with humor, hence, “steal one of mine then.”

“bet.”

[watarfallar]

Still got the brain worms

Grian: Are you good? Scar: In what sense? Grian: Generally. Scar: Oh, definitely not.

Scar: Wait you like me? For my personality? Grian: I know, I was surprised too.

Grian: I'm not mean. Name one mean thing I’ve ever done. Scar: When we were younger, you convinced me eggs weren't real. Grian: They're not. Scar: Haha, very funny. Grian: I'm serious. Didn't you hear? Scar: No… what happened? Grian: …Why would you fall for this again-

Grian: Why are you on fire? Scar: This is just how my day is going.

Grian: DID YOU REALLY THINK THAT JOKE WAS FUNNY? IT WASNT. NOBODY IS LAUGHING. Grian: pulls up a graph THIS IS WHEN YOU TOLD YOUR JOKE, YOU HAVE SINGLE HANDEDLY RUINED COMEDY! IVE ALSO ASKED MANY COMEDY SCHOLARS ON THEIR OPINION OF YOUR JOKE AND THIS IS WHAT THEY HAD TO SAY! Scar: I've been researching comedy for the past 20 years, and I have genuinely never seen a joke this bad. We have used quantum physics to look into alternate universes to see every joke made, and yours was still by far the worst. Grian: CONGRATULATIONS! YOUVE SINGLE HANDEDLY CREATED THE WORST JOKE IN HUMAN HISTORY! HERES A MEDAL! pulls up a horrible ms paint drawn star that says "you need help

Grian: I believe in you, Scar! Scar, to themself: God, I must suck. The nicest thing Grian can think to say to me is that they don’t doubt my existence.

Grian: Last night, I had a dream about sandwich pizza. Scar: What? Grian: It was pizza with bread on the top and the bottom. Scar: So a calzone? Grian: You can’t just name things I dream up.

Scar: Good morning! Grian: Is it? Is it really?

Scar: Grian just said "I have an appetite for destruction" and then they reached down and untied my shoe.

Grian: But that’s censorship. Scar: Well done. You are correct. You’re being censored. Now go.

Scar: So I was just having a conversation with Grian about Star Wars; particularly, about the choice of architecture. The amount of people who die from falling down bottomless pits is TOO DAMN HIGH! Like, who designs architecture like this? Catwalks with no guard rails whatsoever, just zigging and zagging through enormous voids. Giant holes to nowhere! Grian: It's by design. It's a cleaner look, for a more elegant time. Scar: Like… who the fuck put this hole here???? And why???? Grian: Exhaust? Scar: Darth Maul falls down a hole, Palpatine falls down a hole, Solo falls down a hole, everyone falls down a hole! Star Wars universe needs OSHA. Grian: Luke falls down a hole, Boba Fett falls down a hole… Scar: Yes, yes, I forgot about those! R2-D2 falls down a hole in the Millenium Falcon after he fixes the hyperdrive. Grian: We're onto something here! Scar: Obi-Wan almost falls down a hole. Grian: C-3PO falls off the barge into the sand. Pretty close to falling down a hole. Scar: His lightsaber does though. Grian thinks hard about what other Star Wars Characters fall down holes Scar: What if the hole is symbolic? The hole represents the dark side. Grian: Nah, doesn't work. Luke chooses to fall down the hole instead of joining Vader/The Dark Side. Scar: Fair point.

Grian: How long do you think it'll take? Scar: I don’t know, three or four. Grian: Three or four what? Days? Weeks? Months? Scar: Yeah, maybe five. Grian: Five what?!

Scar: Ah shit, I forgot. Grian: Forgot what? Scar: How do you expect me to answer that?

Scar: Why do you think I don’t like you? I do. I would kill for you. Scar: Ask me to kill for you. Grian: …First of all, calm down-

Grian: Being half asleep and feeling someone gently plant a kiss on your forehead is one of the purest kinds of love in the world. Scar: Unless you're home alone.

Scar: My goal is not to be the best, but to inspire someone enough to one day surpass me. Grian: YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT EVERY TIME YOU BEAT ME AT CONNECT FOUR!

Grian: Act natural. Scar: For this kind of situation, the most natural thing would be to panic, so technically I can panic. Grian: NO, that’s not what I meant! Act like it’s a normal day! Scar: My ‘normal’ days of late, consist of a lot of panic. Grian: Will you just cooperate? Scar: When a person is panicking, they are not apt to cooperate very well!

Scar: venting endlessly to Grian about their week Grian, every once in a while: in a monotone Wow, that is so wild.

Grian: A banker? Me? Scar: Yes, Grian. Grian: But I don’t know anything about running a bank! Scar: Good. No preconceived ideas. Grian: I’ve robbed banks! Scar: Capital! Just reverse your thinking. The money should be on the inside.

At the police station Scar: Hi, I’m here for Grian. Police officer: Who’s Grian? Scar: Ah, you must be new.

[verstappentime]

happy end of the season, y'all. here's charles & max post-abu dhabi. charles is sad, but max is there. <3 (tiniest bit nsfw)

"Babe?" Max knocks on the door. The shower isn't even on. "Charles, we're late. Are you alright?"

"One second," Charles calls back. He sounds hoarse.

Max gives him a minute. Takes a lap around the room. Checks his phone three times. "Do you want me to maybe get your clothes? You can tell me what you would like and I'll bring it and you can get ready." Charles doesn't say anything. "Okay. I'm gonna come in, okay? You have to say right now if you don't want me to." Nothing again. Max pushes the door open.

Charles is sitting on the closed toilet seat, wearing a robe from the hotel. His face is wet.

Max heard what he told the press. It hurts so much. It just hurts so much. It looks like it does, now.

"Baby," he says. "Hey."

Charles laughs, wet and broken. "Sorry," he says.

Max lowers himself to the floor, sitting on the cold tile with his legs crossed. "It's alright." He holds out his hand. Charles takes it, squeezing. "Why are you sitting here?"

Charles shrugs silently. He's still crying, Max thinks.

"Okay," Max says. "We will sit here then. You don't want to talk?"

"No," Charles says. But he hangs on to Max's hand, and then he talks anyway. "I feel very stupid."

"It's okay that you wanted it. It's okay if it hurts that you didn't get it."

Charles nods. "I wanted it," he says, barely there. He squeezes Max's hand tighter. He looks so, so sad. Max knows him well enough to know he'll heal quickly. They're going to the FIA gala together. Charles is excited and he's picked out their suits and it will be scary but good, and then they'll have a break to sleep in and be real people. It will be good. But it still hurts right now.

"Do you want me to say my opinion or just sit here?"

"I don't know. Maybe you say your opinion and if I think it's stupid I'll say to shut up." Charles smiles, watery, just a little.

"Okay," Max says, because if it makes Charles smile, he can tell Max to shut up. "I have watched the onboard of your start five times while you sat in here. And it made me very hard."

Charles makes a choking noise. "I thought you were going to talk about the championship."

Max shrugs. "I don't care about this. I care that it made you cry. But you were very amazing, and you should know." He rubs his thumb over Charles's knuckles. "If you were not so sad I would be sucking your cock right now."

Charles squeaks. "Max." He laughs, all snotty and gross but still gorgeous. His cheeks get all red when he cries and his eyes look so green.

"I am not joking." He's not. "I do not like to watch racing at home but I think this is the hottest thing I have ever seen. And you should be proud of yourself. And you should know I'm proud of you. And that you make me hard."

"You're insane," Charles says. Some life is coming back to his eyes.

"I can't give you the championship. And if you want to sit here and cry still I'll just sit with you and we will breathe and it will be alright. It will hurt less soon." Max soothes his hands up Charles's thigh. "But also if you want I can tell you that you were so incredible today and then I can suck your cock about it and we can go to this party. And it will still hurt less soon."

Charles's smile finally spreads to his eyes. "You can't on this floor. It's bad for your knees."

Max grins back, offering Charles his other hand. "Come on then. Help me up."

Charles stands and hoists Max to his feet. He looks small, all tearstained and swallowed up.

Max wraps him in a hug. "It's good that you wanted it," he says. It's the best part of Charles. How much he cares. How much he believes. "I love you. It's okay with me if you're sad."

"I love you, too." Charles clings on, just for a second. When he pulls back, he looks more settled. "I drove better than you today, didn't I?"