#and would also try to distract and annoy everyone else

[mars-ipan]

Mars, you have a lot more patience than I would at this point gdhfkjgdsfg. If you'll allow me to choose violence for a second:

-

Hi anon! Did you know you can engage with other people without interpreting every word they use in the worst way possible, making a million assumptions about their background and prescribing opinions to them they've explicitly told you they don't have?

I don't even disagree with all of those rebuttals, but if you want people to engage in discussions with you you have to treat them like human beings, not your opposition in a court case. What are you expecting to get back when you act like this? About nonexistent fingers in his ass guy?

You should at least have got off anon and owned what you said- unless you're using anon to block evade, in which case you should consider respecting people's boundaries.

:D waow…. feeling very cared for in this chili’s tonight

[hoshifighting]

i'm BEGGING for a collegefling! jeonghan plzz

thank youuuu 💗 love your work <33

warnings: smut, teasing, flirting, fingering, penetrative sex, cock riding, semi-public sex, library sex, loud!jeonghan, jealousy, he's such a cutie too.

college fling!jeonghan who's not the type to play around with mixed signals. if he wants something, he’s pretty direct about it. likes games—just not the confusing kind. so, yeah, when you first met him, you kind of got what he was about from day one. freshman year was chaos. the university’s big events had everyone talking—water games, shirtless dudes, bikinis, everyone all bronzed and glowing under the sun. but jeonghan— he’s not about the whole "show off my body" thing. kept his shirt on, like he didn’t need to prove a damn thing. confident as hell, and you hated how much that got to you.

he was the one who came up to you first, of course. said something like, “my friend thinks you’re pretty.” such a casual opener, like it was no big deal. but then he took it further, all smooth with a teasing smile. “but i don’t really trust his taste, so i had to see for myself.”

you remember just rolling your eyes, thinking, this guy—but also trying not to let on that his vibe was doing things to your brain. when he went on to say, “so, are we making out now, or later?”—you laughed in his face, hard. hard as fuck, actually, and told him straight up that wasn’t happening, and his response? a smirk. that smirk that would become the smirk, the one you'd start seeing every time he spotted you from across campus, during parties, even in the quiet corner of the library when you thought you were safe.

after that day, it was like this... game, but not really a game. like, you’d be minding your business, trying to get through your classes, and boom—jeonghan would be there, casually sliding in with some flirty comment, always teetering on the line of too much. but never quite crossing it. like one time, you were sitting with your laptop, probably stressed over a deadline, and he just popped up with, “you look like you could use a distraction.” you shot back, “don’t you have someone else to annoy?” and of course, he answered, “nah, i’m committed to you.” committed. like it wasn’t just a stupid flirty thing.

and it kept going. year after year. no kissing, no hooking up—just this ridiculous back-and-forth, every time he saw you, making your stomach twist up in knots. it was frustrating as hell, ‘cause even though he flirted like it was second nature, he never actually pushed you to do anything more. he knew the game. he knew exactly how far to take it before pulling back, leaving you wanting more but hating that you even did.

one night, you were at some random house party, loud music, too many people, and of course, there he was. leaning against the kitchen counter, looking all too comfortable in a place that was way too crowded. he saw you first, waved you over with that lazy smile that you wanted to ignore but couldn’t. “you lost or just looking for me?” he asked, knowing damn well you weren’t looking for him.

“neither,” you lied, grabbing a drink from the counter just to have something to hold. but he wasn’t buying it, stepping a little closer, crowding your space just enough to make your breath catch.

“right,” he said, that teasing lilt in his voice. “so you’re not here just to finally kiss me?”

you laughed again, but this time, it didn’t feel as easy. “jeonghan, you’ve been trying for years. give it up.”

“noo sweetheart,” he pouted, voice smooth like honey. “i’m just playing the long game. i like it..”

the long game. because even though you never kissed, never took it past flirting, there was always this tension, simmering just below the surface. you’d catch yourself thinking about him sometimes when you weren’t even around him—wondering if he ever thought about you the same way.

but he never made it weird. never tried to make you feel like you owed him anything, which was maybe why you didn’t hate him for it. because at the end of the day, it was fun. infuriating, yes. but fun. he’d make a comment, you’d brush it off, but deep down? yeah, there was always a part of you that kinda wanted to see what would happen if you let the game go on a little longer.

and jeonghan... he was patient. too patient, if you were being honest.

there was something stupidly comforting about jeonghan always being around. like, even on your worst days—those days when you couldn’t even be bothered to try. oversized hoodie, messy hair, not a scrap of makeup. you were barely surviving, and there he was, still managing to make you feel noticed. he’d walk up, casual as hell, and say things like, “your hair smells nice today,” or he’d reach out, fingers grazing your hand, just to say, “new nails? they look cute.”

and then there was that one time, oh god—you remember it clear as day. you’d barely rolled out of bed and showed up to class, hoodie pulled tight around you, and jeonghan slides up beside you at the cantine, glancing down at your hand. “you know what would look cute wrapped in there?” he’d said, all casual. and for a split second, you didn’t catch on. you were about to ask what he meant, then it hit you—cock. he meant cock.

you felt your face heat up, your brain misfiring as you shot him a look, trying to figure out if anyone else had heard. your eyes scanned the tables, praying no one else had clocked his little comment, and when you finally turned back to him, there he was—smiling like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “what?” he asked, all fake innocence, like you hadn’t just caught onto his bullshit. “i was talking about the energy drink can.” and he pointed at the one in your hand, the one you had just bought. “it matches your nails.”

you laughed. you couldn’t help it. he had this way of making everything lighter, even when you were convinced it was gonna be a trash day. and he smiled too, like your happiness was his mission for the day. it was always like that. jeonghan would flirt, you’d roll your eyes or laugh, and things would feel a little easier. it was comfortable. safe, even.

but then… spring party. fuck.

there was something so painfully uncomfortable about seeing him with her. it wasn’t even the fact that they were together—it was the way he smiled at her. the way his arm was casually around her shoulders, pulling her closer, and then the cheek kiss. you saw it, and it felt like something lodged itself in your chest. like, what the hell.

it hit you like a ton of bricks. you liked the game too much. you liked him too much, but you hadn’t taken the shot. you never thought it was serious enough to matter, but seeing him with someone else? it felt like you were watching something that should’ve been yours. the whole night was a blur after that. no amount of party energy could bring you back up after seeing that.

you left early. didn’t even bother sticking around when the lights got lower, the music got louder, and everyone else started to get more and more drunk. you just… left. walked back to your dorm, the sound of your flower crown jingling a little with each step, the one your friends had insisted you wear. it felt stupid now. why the hell did you even care?

and then, as if the universe had it out for you, you saw him. just walking out of the dorms. not just any dorms. the dorms. the girls’ dorms. and you knew. of course it was her. she was in there, probably waving him off after some perfect little goodnight, and here you were, walking around with jealousy you didn’t even want to admit you had.

he saw you before you could duck away. smiled at you like nothing was weird, like you hadn’t seen him with her just hours before. “mhmmm... who’s this princess, huh?” he wolf-whistled, because of course, of course, he would. his eyes twinkled when they landed on your flower crown, clearly amused.

you weren’t. “fuck off, jeonghan,” you muttered, trying to brush past him. but you knew it. he heard it. he caught the tone immediately because even when he got on your nerves before, you were never this cold.

“whoa, whoa,” he called after you, stepping in your path with that all-too-familiar smirk, though now it felt different. heavier. “where’s this coming from? what happened? don’t tell me the princess has had a rough night?”

“i’m not in the mood,” you snapped, making a beeline for your dorm. but he wasn’t letting it go. he blocked your way again, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes studying you like he was figuring out some kind of puzzle. you saw his eyes lighting up.

“wait a minute… are you jealous?”

the way he said it, like he was genuinely surprised and also deeply entertained by the thought. you didn’t even want to give him the satisfaction of looking at him, but your eyes flicked up anyway, glaring.

“you’re ridiculous.”

“i’m ridiculous?” he laughed, stepping a little closer. “so you saw me with her, huh?” he teased, and you could see the moment he clicked it all together. “oh my god. you are jealous.”

“shut up, jeonghan.”

but he didn’t. he was full-on laughing now, not even trying to hide how amused he was by the whole thing. “okay, okay. listen, that was my sister, y/n.”

you blinked. “what?”

he wiped at his eyes, still chuckling. “my sister. we had a family thing tonight, and she was visiting the campus for the spring party. she’s staying over, that’s why i was in the girls' dorms.”

you felt the embarrassment hit you like a wave. like, of course, you’d worked yourself up into a jealous mess over nothing. but still, the way he was looking at you, the way his laughter softened when he saw your expression change—it wasn’t like he was making fun of you. if anything, he looked… kinda pleased.

“you really thought i’d ditch you for someone else?” he asked, scrunching his nose. “after all these years?”

you wanted to hit him. and also kiss him. but mostly hit him. “shut up,” you mumbled, shoving past him to finally get to your door.

but as you fumbled with your keys, you heard him laugh again, this time lighter. “you know, if you want to kiss me that badly, you could just ask.”

"just ask?" you placed a hand on your hip, raising an eyebrow at him like you were calling his bluff. jeonghan just nodded, all nonchalant, like this wasn’t the moment of his life.

you took a step closer, the space between you two disappearing until your noses were nearly touching. you could see the way his eyes flickered from yours to your lips and back up, like he was trying to stay cool, but you knew better. underneath all that fake calm, he was freaking out.

you just smiled. you leaned in, just close enough for him to feel your breath on his lips, and whispered, “good night, jeonghan.”

you pulled back, turning on your heel, leaving him standing there. you didn’t need to look back to know the effect you had. you could feel the tension in the air, the way his posture faltered just slightly. when you reached your door, you glanced over your shoulder, catching his eyes one last time before you disappeared inside. he was still watching, a grin playing on his lips. as you leaned against the door inside, hand over your racing heart, you couldn’t help but smile too.

a few days later, you were at the library. it was one of those late afternoons where the campus was almost eerily quiet. most people were either at the football field, hanging out on the green, or already done for the day. you’d volunteered for this stupid school board vote thing, which meant you were stuck painting posters on cardboard, your hands covered in smudges of red and blue paint.

the library had this dim, cozy lighting, the blinds half-drawn so the soft glow of sunset was creeping in from the windows. but the table you were sitting at had this one bright, focused yellow lamp, shining right on your work as you dragged the wet paintbrush across the poster.

you were in your own world, humming softly, when you suddenly felt something… someone close. too close. a soft breath ghosted over your ear, so light you almost thought you were imagining it.

“boo!” a voice whispered, low and teasing, right by your ear.

you flinched hard, tensing up, your whole body jerking back so fast the paintbrush slipped in your hand. and of course, it was him. jeonghan stood there, barely an inch away, grinning like the asshole he was. his hands were shoved deep in his pockets, like he was trying to stop himself from reaching out and touching you.

“what the fuck,” you muttered, heart still racing from the scare, eyes glaring up at him. but he was having the time of his life, watching the way your body reacted, still all wound up.

“shhh,” he whispered, stepping even closer, his lips nearly brushing your ear this time. “we’re in a library.” the fake seriousness in his voice almost made you laugh, but you were too annoyed to let him win that easily.

“do you ever chill?” you asked, leaning back in your chair to give yourself a little space, but jeonghan wasn’t having it. he leaned down, resting his arms on the back of your chair like he was claiming it—and you.

“why would i, when scaring you is so much fun?” he shot back, his grin widening.

your heart was still pounding from the surprise, and now from him being so damn close, but you rolled your eyes, trying to act like you weren’t affected. “you’re annoying.”

“you love it,” he whispered, the teasing edge in his voice making you want to scream. but instead, you reached for your paintbrush again, ignoring him, or at least trying to. jeonghan, though, wasn’t going anywhere. he hovered over you, eyes scanning the half-finished poster on the table.

“what’s this?” he asked, gesturing to your work. “you painting a masterpiece?”

“just posters,” you mumbled, trying to focus on the brush strokes. but you could feel him there, his eyes practically burning into your skin. you hated how aware you were of him, of his warmth, of the way his breath still lingered on your ear.

“hmm,” he hummed, leaning a little closer again, his cheek almost brushing yours as he pretended to inspect the cardboard. “you missed a spot.”

“jeonghan,” you warned, glancing up at him through narrowed eyes. but all he did was flash you that familiar, maddening smirk.

“what? just trying to help.” he finally pulled back, standing up straight again, but not before letting his fingers brush lightly against your arm, just enough to send a spark through you.

you cursed under your breath, trying to focus on your work, but it was useless. his stupid little whisper and the way he hovered over you had already ruined any chance of concentration.

“you know,” he said casually, pulling out a chair next to you and sitting down like he had nowhere else to be. “you’re fun to mess with.”

“can you shut up for like, two seconds?” you shot at him, your voice carrying more frustration than you meant.

instead of taking the hint, he just wriggled his eyebrows at you, that shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. he never stops. you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to gather your thoughts, but the annoyance, the tension—it all bubbled up inside you, and before you could overthink it, you opened your eyes and leaned in, kissing him.

just a quick peck, a little “shut the hell up” moment, nothing more. but the second you pulled back and caught the look on his face, you almost regretted it. almost. jeonghan was stunned. like, full-on wide-eyed, frozen in place, like he couldn’t believe what just happened.

your cheeks immediately burned, but you kept your cool, clearing your throat before going back to the poster like nothing happened. “sit down and be quiet now,” you muttered, keeping your eyes on the cardboard.

for once, he actually listened. he sat down next to you, still staring, clearly trying to process what you just did. the silence that followed was awkward as hell, but it didn’t last long. because, of course, it didn’t.

he lasted about five seconds, max. then you felt his hand on your cheek, turning your face towards him. before you could react, his lips were on yours again, but this time, he didn’t hold back. it wasn’t some quick, shy kiss. no. his lips moved against yours, hungry, and then you felt it—his tongue pushing past your lips, invading your mouth like he had no patience left.

his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and before you knew it, you were completely lost in him. your body responded faster than your brain could keep up with, your hand instinctively reaching out to grab the edge of the table to steady yourself.

when he pulled back, just slightly, his breath was ragged, his lips hovering over yours as he whispered, “can i?” the neediness in his voice sent a jolt of heat straight through you.

you nodded, not trusting your voice. and that’s all he needed. his hand slipped down, fingers tracing the hem of your skirt before pushing it up just enough to get underneath. his fingertips brushed over your panties, teasing you, and you could feel yourself already getting wet.

jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, his breath hot against your skin. “you’re already soaked, cant wait to suck this pussy,” he whispered

you opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a shaky breath as he slid one finger under the fabric, barely grazing your folds. he was taking his time, dragging his fingers slowly, deliberately, over your wetness.

“so wet for me,” he whispered again, his lips brushing against your ear now. “you want me to keep going?”

you nodded again, your hand gripping the edge of the table tighter, and you heard him let out a small, pleased hum before he pressed a single finger inside you. the stretch was slow, his finger curling as he pushed in deeper, and the slick sound of your wetness filled the quiet library, pussy swallowing easily the long finger.

it was embarrassingly loud. the soft squelch of his finger moving inside you echoed in the stillness, and your head fell back, a quiet moan slipping past your lips before you could stop it.

“shhh,” jeonghan whispered, mockingly, his other hand coming up to wrap lightly around your throat. “quiet, be quiet f'me okay??”

you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to stay quiet, but it was impossible when he was teasing you like this, his finger moving slowly in and out, curling in just the squishy spot. he was taking his time, dragging it out, the wet sounds growing louder with each shove of his finger.

“you like that?” he asked, his lips brushing against your neck now. “you like when i finger you slow like this?”

you could barely answer, your voice catching in your throat as he added a second finger, stretching you just a little more. the way your body responded was automatic—your legs spreading wider on instinct, your hips rocking forward to meet his hand.

jeonghan grinned, his fingers moving a little faster now, pushing deeper, the squishing sounds even louder than before. “fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered.

your head fell back against his shoulder, your body giving in. you could feel every inch of his fingers moving inside you, every curl, every thrust, the knuckles, it was driving you insane. you reached out blindly, your free hand finding his thigh before sliding up to palm at the bulge in his pants.

he let out a soft groan, his hips shifting slightly as you pressed your hand harder against him. “you’re really trying to make me lose it, hmm?” he muttered, his voice strained as he continued to finger you, his pace quickening.

your hand fumbled with the zipper of his pants, trying to get him out, but it was hard to focus when he was fucking you with his fingers like this, your wetness dripping down onto his palm.

“shit,” he hissed when your hand finally slipped into his pants, your fingers wrapping around his length. he was hard—so fucking hard—and the way you gripped him made his head fall back, eyes rolling as he thrust his fingers even deeper into you.

“you like that, baby?” he asked. “you like when i fuck you with my fingers?”

you moaned softly, nodding as your hips bucked against his hand. your walls clenched around his fingers, and the wet squelching sounds got louder, filling the quiet library.

“fuck, you sound so good,” jeonghan groaned, pulling your panties to the side so he could spread your legs wider, giving himself better access. his fingers moved faster, pushing deeper, and you felt your body start to tremble, the pleasure building so quickly you could barely breathe.

“jeonghan,” you whimpered, your hand tightening around his length as your other hand gripped the table for dear life. your hips rocked against his fingers, desperate.

“that’s it, mhmm just like that baby,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear again. “cum for your hannie.. so nasty baby, letting me fuck this pussy with my fingers...what if someone see this hm?.”

before you could stop it, your body seized up, your walls clenched tight around his fingers, your back arching as you came, the wet sounds of your release echoing in the quiet library.

jeonghan groaned softly, his hand still moving, fingers still pumping in and out of you as you rode out your orgasm.

jeonghan watched as you giggled softly, in overstimulation, your head nestled into the crook of his neck, making him smile too. his arms wrapped around you tight, holding you against him.

a single line of slickness dripping down between your legs, a translucent trail of your release that shimmered against the dim library light and hit the floor with a quiet, inappropriate drip. he stared at it for a second, mesmerized by how fucking wet you were.

before you could even react, jeonghan slid his fingers from between your legs, sticky with your juices, and without hesitation, brought them to his lips. he sucked your wetness off them like it was nothing, like this was casual. but the way he moaned softly, like he was tasting something forbidden, made your cheeks burn.

“jeonghan!” you hissed, scolding him, giving him a little slap on the arm. “what the hell?”

he just shrugged, lips curved into that cocky smile. “couldn’t help it,” he muttered, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue. “you taste so fucking good.”

your face flushed even more, but you couldn’t hide the way your body still buzzed with need, even after he’d just made you come. your eyes flickered to the door—still shut, no one else around—and something wild sparked in you.

before you could second-guess it, you stood up from your chair and climbed onto his lap, straddling him fast. jeonghan’s eyes widened in shock, hands automatically flying to your hips, but not stopping you. “y/n,” he stammered, voice shaky, his breath catching in his throat, “n-no, we can’t—”

“why not?” you whined, rocking your hips forward just enough to brush his cock agasint your folds, and fuck, it felt good. you were still wet, soaked from your orgasm, and the friction was enough to make you both let out quiet, needy moans.

jeonghan’s hands gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he struggled to keep his composure. “fuck,” he muttered, biting down on his bottom lip hard, his whole body trembling beneath you. “because—shit—i can’t keep quiet.”

“please,” you begged, your voice dripping with desperation, leaning closer so your lips ghosted over his. “jeonghan, i’m so horny… been wanting you for years too.”

those words did something to him. years. and it hit him all at once—the weight of everything, of all those years of teasing, flirting, the back and forth that never went anywhere, the way he’d always kept it just at the edge, never crossing the line. and now, here you were, straddling him, begging for him like it was all too much to hold back anymore. he could feel it too—the years of tension, of watching you from a distance, making you smile just to hear that laugh, all leading up to this.

“fuck,” he whispered, voice strained as he watched you grind against him, his hands flexing on your hips. his eyes fluttered shut as the pressure built between you, your slick folds dragging against him. his body was wound so tight he felt like he could snap any second.

“jeonghan,” you whispered again, your breath hot against his lips, and then you reached down between you, a gasp escaping him when your hand wrapped around his length, teasing him.

“we can’t,” he whispered, but there was no conviction in his voice, not anymore. his hips bucked up into your hand, betraying how badly he wanted this. “we can’t do this here.”

“then be quiet,” you murmured, lips brushing over his as you guided the tip of his cock to your entrance. your wetness coated him, slick and hot, and jeonghan groaned, his head falling back against the chair as you slid him along your folds. he was so hard, so sensitive.

“fuck, y/n,” he gasped, his body trembling under your touch. his hands shot to your thighs, gripping them hard as you teased him, your slickness coating his cock, making everything feel too good, too intense.

“please,” you whispered again, pressing down just enough for his tip to catch at your entrance, and jeonghan’s whole body shuddered. “i need you.”

he bit down on his lip, his hands shaking as he tried to stop himself from completely losing control. “you’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, his voice rough with lust. “i won’t be able to stay quiet.”

but you didn’t care. you wanted him too badly, needed him too badly after all this time, all these years of unspoken tension finally coming to a head. you were practically shaking with need, your hips moving on their own as you slid his cock along your folds, teasing yourself with the tip.

jeonghan let out a low groan, his eyes rolling back as you rubbed against him, the wet sounds of your slickness filling the quiet space. “shit, baby,” he whispered, his hands trembling as they moved to grip your ass, pulling you even closer. “so fuckin good around me, fuck— i dont know if i will last.”

“then fuck me,” you whispered back, your voice desperate now, grinding down against him, your slick folds swallowing his cock inch by inch. you felt him twitch, felt how much he was holding back, and it only made you want him more.

he groaned, his head falling forward, his forehead resting against yours. “can’t keep quiet, can’t can’t—” he whispered again, his breath ragged, but the way his hips bucked up into you told you all you needed to know.

you let out a soft whimper as you finally sank down onto him, his cock stretching you so slowly, so perfectly. the feeling of him inside you after all this time was almost too much, and you moaned softly, your body trembling as he filled you up, inch by inch.

you started rocking your hips slowly, back and forth, barely pulling off him before sliding back down, letting him feel every inch of you. the way his cock filled you so perfectly made you clench around him, and you could hear jeonghan’s breath catch, a low groan slipping from his lips that he tried desperately to swallow.

his hands shot to your waist, gripping you tight as you moved. your rhythm was teasing, dragging your slick folds over him as his length stretched you with each motion. you knew what you were doing to him—the way his hips bucked up every time you slid down, his thighs tensing under your legs. he was struggling to hold it together, and you were reveling in every second of it.

you leaned forward, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “you’re so fucking hard for me hannie”

jeonghan let out a deep groan, his head falling back against the chair as he tried to keep quiet, his breath coming in short, desperate pants. “ngh—fuck—” he hissed, his grip on your waist tightening as he tried to control himself, but the way you were moving, so slow and deliberate, was killing him.

you smirked against his neck, pressing soft kisses to his skin before whispering again, your voice low. “you love how wet i am for you, hm? bet you’ve been thinking about this all of those years, huh?”

that did it. jeonghan’s whole body trembled, and he let out a strangled moan, “ahh—shit—” his fingers dug into your hips, trying to pull you down harder, but you kept the pace slow, teasing, letting him feel every second of it.

“fuck, y/n,” he groaned, his voice breaking as he threw his head back, his lips parted and eyes fluttering shut. “you—ngh—feel so fucking good.”

his reaction only fueled you more. you started grinding your hips a little faster, rolling them in circles. you leaned closer again, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered filth, your voice dripping with lust. “you’re such a good boy for me, letting me ride you like this..”

jeonghan let out another deep groan, “o-oh—fuck—” his hands slid under your skirt, gripping your ass as he helped guide your movements, his fingers squeezing the soft flesh. his eyes were half-lidded, mouth open, and you could feel him trembling beneath you, trying so hard to keep quiet, but every whisper from you had him moaning like he couldn’t control it.

“you’re such a dirty boy,” you whispered, “can feel how bad you want to cum inside me.”

“fuck—” he groaned again, louder this time, and you quickly leaned forward, pressing your lips to his to muffle the sound. the kiss was desperate, messy, his tongue immediately slipping into your mouth as he kissed you back hard, his hands pulling you down on him as you rocked your hips faster. you could feel him shaking, his control slipping with every thrust.

you pulled back, breathless, your lips hovering over his as you whispered again. “you gonna come for me, jeonghan? gonna fill me up like the good boy you are?”

his eyes rolled back, his hands gripping your ass even tighter as he thrust up into you, his cock twitching inside you. your fingers gripped the edge of the table to steady yourself, your nails digging into the wood as you rocked against him, feeling his cock throb inside you. his hands slid back up your hips, pulling you down gently as his cock twitched one last time inside you, the warmth of his release spreading through you.

you reached down between you, sliding your fingers through your own slickness and bringing them to his lips. “taste it,” you whispered, watching as his eyes fluttered open, still hazy with lust.

he groaned softly, but didn’t hesitate, his tongue slipping out to lick your fingers clean, tasting both of you mixed together. the sight of it made you shiver, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips as you watched him suck on your fingers, his eyes locked on yours.

you could feel the heat between your legs still burning, still aching for more, and without thinking, you started to move again, grinding your hips against his slowly. jeonghan’s eyes widened, his hands gripping your waist as he realized what you were doing.

“y/n—” he whispered, his voice shaky, “what the—we—fuck, we can’t—”

“shh,” you whispered, your lips brushing over his as you rocked your hips again, feeling his cock start to harden inside you. “just one more time.”

jeonghan let out a low groan, his hands sliding down to your ass again as he gave in, his body already reacting to the feeling of you moving on him again. “fuck,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “you’re gonna kill me.”

you just smiled, pressing your lips to his as you whispered against his mouth, “then die happy.”

[lovesuhng]

the universe between us

fluff, strangers to lovers, dj/idol!johnny x photographer!reader w.c: 1.9k

Being a photographer allowed you to experience many things. At that moment, you were in Thailand, more specifically, in Chiang Mai. You had accepted a job to follow a DJ/idol during his days in the city for a festival. It wasn’t the kind of gig you usually took, but you couldn’t afford to turn anything down.

You’d been preparing yourself, physically and mentally, to meet him. After all, he would be arriving from a tiring trip and would probably be late and in no mood to see a photographer already waiting for him. But to your surprise, before the expected time, while you were still setting up your equipment in the lounge, he walked in: sunglasses, a backpack on his shoulders and an iced coffee in hand.

“Hey!” he said casually, with a friendly smile on his lips. “You’re the photographer, right?” You nodded, a bit surprised by the direct approach. “I’m Johnny.” He extended his hand, still smiling with a certain ease. You shook his hand and quickly introduced yourself.

“Nice to meet you. Did you get here before everyone else?”

“Yeah, I’m used to traveling alone,” he shrugged. “Looks like we’ll be spending the weekend together.”

You gave a small, closed-lip smile. “Yep, we’ll be working together.” You emphasized the word working.

“Working…” Johnny repeated, flashing another one of his smiles. “But work can be fun too.”

You let out a short laugh, turning your gaze back to the camera screen, avoiding his relaxed smile. “Fun isn’t usually in the job description.”

“Then maybe I was sent to change that.”

-

The next day, before soundcheck, a hike was planned, not only because Johnny wanted to explore the area, but also to take “organic,” natural shots to show the DJ’s more relaxed side.

You stayed behind the group most of the time, capturing spontaneous moments. Johnny was energetic, sometimes running, sometimes stopping at every detail that caught his attention. He cracked jokes here and there, complaining about his outfit or saying he already regretted coming. He made the guides laugh, and, reluctantly, you too. It was almost annoying how effortlessly charming he was.

But your smile faded into concern when you noticed you were alone. You had gotten distracted by a series of landscape shots and could no longer see anyone ahead.

“This can’t be happening.” you muttered to yourself, spinning on your feet, trying to spot something familiar.

“Relax, no one really gets lost with two local guides,” said a voice behind you, making you jump. It was Johnny.

“You stayed behind on purpose?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. He shrugged.

“Maybe it’s a coincidence. I think the universe is trying to tell you I’m here to make your job more fun.” You scoffed a short laugh, visibly tired. “Oh, you don’t believe in the universe?”

“I believe I’ve got a job to do and I’m lost in a trail with a DJ addicted to flirting.”

It was his turn to laugh. “They’ll find us, okay? We could just sit there in the shade, wait for the group to come back…” He pointed with his chin toward a large tree. “I’ll share my water and promise not to talk about the universe anymore.”

As much as you wanted to refuse, you accepted. Ten minutes later, the group showed up. You let out a relieved sigh and gave Johnny a glance, a silent admission that, in the end, he was actually making things a little less terrible.

—

It was the night of the WILDWOODS PARTY, and the music throbbed, loud and strong. The sky was perfectly starry. People let themselves be carried away by the heat of the moment and the beat on the music. Colorful lights danced across the open-air venue and you moved through the backstage area with familiar ease, catching details with your trained eye. You had the perfect spot to capture every movement on stage.

After a while, his name was announced: DJ JOHNNY BE. Screams filled the place, and through your lens appeared a confident man with a charismatic smile. His fingers slid lightly over the controls, his body flowing with the beat as if he and the music were one. He didn’t have to fake anything or pose. Every moment he surrendered to the music was worthy of a photo fit for a gallery. He was beautiful.

At one point, he took off his vest, now in just a gray tank top that highlighted his toned frame even more. It was the perfect moment: you framed the shot, and just as you were about to click, he looked at you. It was quick, but enough for that calm, simple smile to appear, directly at you. As if he’d been searching for you the entire time and had finally found you. You lowered the camera, heart beating a little faster. That professionalism you always talked about was momentarily forgotten. You found yourself genuinely interested in the man who had brought you unexpected lightness. You were trying to resist, but you didn’t know if you could.

Johnny had already turned his attention back to the music, but you kept watching him, not through the lens, this time. It was a memory only you wanted to keep.

—

It was your last night there. You went to the resort restaurant to edit the pictures you’d taken of Johnny during the festival. You chose a table in a quiet corner, opened your laptop, connected your camera, and started transferring files. As the images appeared, a different feeling took over your stomach: Johnny focused behind the turntables, laughing with the crowd, raising his arms to the sky, feeling the music. The photos were great, but you weren’t just looking at framing anymore. You didn’t notice when he approached.

“Are you still working?” he asked, pulling out the chair across from you with that ever-present smile.

“That’s the second time you’ve scared me like that,” you mumbled, closing the laptop on reflex. “But yeah, I just have a few edits left before I’m off duty.”

“Perfect. Mind if I stay a while?” He set one of two beer cans in front of you, opened his, and raised it in a toast. “Let’s toast to your time off.”

“And to your success last night.” You clinked cans and smiled at each other. You noticed how much he enjoyed the beer, and once again found yourself wondering how someone could be that attractive doing something so simple.

From then on, conversation flowed naturally. You talked about music, travel, bizarre foods you’d tried, funny moments Johnny had lived through as a DJ, moments that made you laugh genuinely.

Johnny took in the way your face lit up when you smiled, quietly admiring you for a while. A comfortable silence settled between you until he spoke in a softer voice:

“I noticed your gaze when you were photographing me.”

You looked up, holding your can. He wasn’t teasing or flirting. He was being honest.

“It’s my job,” you replied, trying to sound calm and detached.

“I know,” he leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table. “But I liked the way you looked at me.” He held your gaze again. “I really enjoyed getting to know you. I just wanted to say that before this trip ends.”

You felt your face heat up and it definitely wasn’t because the beer.

“Can I walk you to your room?” Johnny asked as you both left the restaurant. There were no second intentions in his voice, so you nodded.

The walk was calm, your steps unhurried, both of you trying to stretch out the moment. You reached your door, holding the key card in your hand, not sure what to do with it.

“Thanks for the beer,” you said.

“Thank you for the company. It was amazing spending these days with you.” Johnny took a step closer, hesitating for the first time that night. “I really want to kiss you right now, but I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable spot. Let’s just pretend this was a trip between friends.”

“But I’m not good at pretending,” you said, surprising him. He smiled, placing a gentle hand on your cheek, asking silently if he could kiss you and you answered by closing your eyes, waiting for his lips on yours.

And then it happened.

His lips touched yours and a slow, tender kiss began, as if he wanted to get to know you fully in that one moment. The kiss deepened as you rested your hands on his shoulders, gently caressing him in a way that made Johnny shiver the moment your fingers touched his skin.

When you pulled apart, you stayed close, sharing a gaze just as intense as the one you’d shared while photographing him, but this time, you were memorizing each other, knowing it was time to say goodbye.

“Thank you for making my job a little lighter,” you said, earning another smile from him. “It was amazing getting to know you.”

He placed a long kiss on your forehead and looked into your eyes. “Meeting you made this place even more beautiful. I still think the universe has something planned for us.”

—

Three months had passed since that kiss. You’d moved, searching for new energy, new opportunities, but deep down, it was an attempt to stay busy and stop thinking about that kiss and about that man, which is something hard to do when his name popped up in playlists, event posters, or even conversations at your new job.

It was a chaotic day at the agency you had just joined: the first big project you were part of, involving music, fashion and a famous whiskey brand. You were adjusting your equipment in a large studio, completely focused, when someone walked in talking to the lead producer. You recognized that voice anywhere: Johnny.

Your body froze for a second. A wave of heat rushed from your stomach to your chest: nervousness and relief blending. Same hair, maybe a bit longer. Same easy charm. When he saw you, his eyes widened in surprise and genuine joy and your heart beat faster, louder. He smiled and walked toward you as if no time had passed, his steps quick, certain. You were still frozen, unsure whether to run, hug him or act cool.

“I knew the universe would bring us back together,” he said, pulling you into a tight hug full of memories: the hike, the vibrant night in Chiang Mai, the kiss in front of your room’s door.

“Still with that universe talk, huh? How long has it been?” you asked, trying to sound casual despite the slight tremble in your hands.

“Three months,” he answered without hesitation.

“You counted?”

“Didn’t you?”

You looked down, smiling softly. You missed that part of him so much it nearly brought tears to your eyes, but you held them back.

While the rest of the team was still getting the set ready, you two slipped off to a quieter corner. “You know, I still think about that night. About you.”

“I do too,” you replied, looking at him sincerely. Your voice came out soft, almost a whisper. Johnny ran a hand through his hair, his usual confidence laced with nerves, but still, he looked happy. Something was still alive between you two, paused for three months, now revived.

“This may not be the best place,” he said, “but I think we’ll have plenty of time to talk about what happened. About us.”

You nodded, trying to contain your smile. “I moved here. And this time, I’m staying for good.”

He smiled, clearly relieved.

The production assistant called his name, and Johnny took your hand in his.

“I’ll see you after work, but this time, no goodbyes.” He gave you a quick kiss before walking away, eyes still locked on yours.

And for the first time in months, you started to believe the universe really was on your side.

[starlightdelrey]

the view between villages

platonic ! f1 grid x reader

summary: f1 is a dangerous sport - it's common knowledge. but accidents - bad accidents - aren't as common. seeing the youngest (and only female) driver crash and not immediately respond is something the boys never thought they'd have to experience, and the rest of the world is just as devestated.

cw: major accident, graphic descriptions of injury and vehicular damage, graphic descriptions of car accident, mentions of death, blood and gore, negative emotions such as sadness and regret, angst, mentions of religion,

song pairing is "the view betwen villages" by noah kahan

(not based on any particular race)

today's race felt off to begin with. When y/n had attempted to leave her aging yorkie, comet, in her hotel room - like she had done for the past couple months - he began to whine.

"poor baby," she mocked, but turned the small TV on and switched it to the channel that would be broadcasting the race live. "look, com. watch me on the tv."

the dog had complied and jumped onto the un-made bed, but when she left and closed the door, he had whined once or twice before calming down.

she made a mental note to get him checked out at the vet, but got distracted when she showed up to the paddock and got a look at the track.

"the weather wasn't as shit yesterday during quali," she said off-handedly to max verstappen, who was chatting to the engineers.

"are you worried?" y/n was a good racer, it was clear - but whenever max saw how small she looked in comparison to everyone else on the team he had a small sense of dread. it wasn't new, just annoying.

"nah." she grinned at him, her hair already pulled back into a french braid for ease during the race.

---

"lights out.... and away we go!"

the lights blink out and y/n is already gunning it, attempting to bypass the boys from mclaren.

she discovered early on that locking up would be her main issue today, and she made it clear on her radio.

"i keep locking up."

her voice was calm but shook a little as she struggled to steer, and she spoke only in short sentences to prevent stuttering.

"copy."

finally, she worked out a system to braking that prevented the struggle, but in speeding up, found that she'd made her way into a mass of cars.

"watch out, y/n. keep out of trouble - wait until everybody else has moved out of each others way."

"ok. pulling back-" the radio crackled and then went silent as a car careened into the side of her.

---

the audiences at home got to watch a replay of the impact.

somewhere in australia, a family consisting of two parents, a teenaged boy and a little girl are watching the race.

the boy reacts first, jolting. "was that logan sargeant and y/n y/ln?"

"yeah... turn up the volume?"

the mother grabs the remote and obliges, terse.

"was that the girl driver?" the barely 5 year old asks, brows furrowed.

"baby, go play in the other room." her father dismisses her, and when she slowly shuffles out, eyes trained on the screen as the commentators relay the details, her dad huffs.

"now. and don't look at the screen anymore."

she squeals and runs out, and the boy starts to jiggle his knee up and down as they wait for more information.

across the world, houses go silent.

---

"and it looks like logan sargeant attempts to pull away from the crowd but misjudges the distance between himself and y/ln. we can see him here slam right into the right side of the body of her car, and she goes spinning out, right into barricades. oh! and if we slow it down, you can see that the force of her chassis hitting the barricades not only forces the car to lift fully off of the ground, but it also tips - the top of the vehicle flips up into the barricade until it falls back into place. that is a nasty hit for rookie red bull driver y/n y/ln."

the commentators keep talking, thinking nothing of the accident, until the cameras switch to the red bull team, who are trying to get into contact with the girl.

"y/n, are you okay?"

silence.

"can you respond? y/n we need a vocal response. anything, okay kid? even if you can just hold down on the radio button so we know you're there."

no response.

the commentators continue.

"and it looks like we're getting no response from red bull driver y/n, who has just crashed."

---

his whole body jerks on the impact, and he spins out off the track, coming to a shaky stop.

"shit, shit, shit!" his voice cracks.

"are you okay, mate?" the radio crackles at him as he's fighting back tears.

"yeah - was that y/n i hit?"

"yes, we can confirm the crash involved both you and y/ln. we are receiving word that it is a red flag crash."

"is she okay?" he doesn't get a response at first, so he tries again. "is y/n okay?"

"no word yet. sorry, logan."

"fuck! i'm so sorry - i really thought it was clear, i just... fuck."

"calm down, sargeant. wait for pick-up and keep yourself collected. we'll tell you as soon as we find anything out, okay mate?"

"sure."

he lifts himself from the smoking chassis and the world watches as he kicks it out of frustration before letting his head lower.

there's a sickening feeling in his stomach as he sees the girls unmoving vehicle.

he pictures her inside, and the fact that she's so much smaller than the older men cause his mind to unravel with pictures of her limp and unconscious.

---

inside the car, y/n blinks her eyes open, groaning.

her ears are ringing and her head hurts, and the body of her car is so warped that it's vacuum sealed her into the vehicle.

in the back of her mind, y/n feels the pain in her right thigh and left ankle, and her right shoulder feels dislocated.

"kid, we need an answer." the radio's muted and crackling, and when y/n tries to respond, she realizes that something on her end is fucked because they're still begging for an answer.

she goes to climb out of the car, but a sob tears out of her chest at the immense pain that suddenly blooms throughout her whole body.

she falls heavily back onto the seat and pants, closing her eyes.

she feels slight relief from the pain when she fully relaxes and closes her eyes, and nestles into her seat a little to get comfortable.

the need to sleep takes over her and she obeys, nodding off.

---

inside her hotel room, comet's ears pull back in concern as he hears his owners name being called out repeatedly from the television.

---

"red flag, max. we need to restart the race."

verstappen stills, his ears suddenly ringing. he has a bad feeling about the red flag but just can't place it.

"what's happened?"

"there was a crash between a williams and y/n. to the pit lanes, please." the voice on the other end seems calm, but there's a waver to it.

"fuck, are you joking? are they both okay?"

"the williams driver... logan sargeant, we're hearing, is up and out of his chassis. we've heard nothing from y/n yet."

he'd fight them, ask for more information, but knows that red bull would be the first to hear anything.

"tell me if you find anything out."

"copy."

as he drives to the pit lane, max replays her grin at him as she reassures the dutchman.

"nah." her nose is scrunched and hair pulled out of her face.

he thinks about how bulky the helmet looked on her, the barely 20 year old driver somehow never managing to put on any muscle, no matter how hard she tried.

he prays to jesus, zeus, allah, and even the virgin mary - surely she'd have sympathy to max's prayers, as she's lost someone dear to her before. any deity he can think of is immediately begged to ensure the safety of his partner.

---

a whining noise pulls y/n back into consciousness, and she furrows her brows.

"i'm trying to sleep, com. shut up." when she opens her eyes and sees the battered cockpit in front of her, she realizes that she's not hearing her dog cry, it's just the ringing in her ears that are back.

and then suddenly all she can see is comet waiting for her. comet, waiting in a hotel room that she'll never re-enter. what's gonna happen to the mutt if she dies? her parents are over-seas, she has no boyfriend to look after him. comet would be all alone.

and then all the guys on the grid are flashing through her head. she knows, vacantly, that logan crashed into her. he'd never forgive himself if she died. verstappens win streak would be fucked if he was grieving over his teammate. even lewis hamilton, who was the first driver to openly back her as the only woman on the grid.

she screws her eyes shut and lets out a heavy sob, steeling herself.

---

the commentators are no longer focused on the race.

"and i think i can speak for all of us when i ask, where is the goddamn safety car and ambulance? young driver y/n y/ln has been stuck in the wreck for about a minute and a half now, and there has still been no aid for her. which is a cause for concern about the overall safety of f1, as- oh my god!"

---

charles is already on his way back to the pit lanes, muttering manifestations under his breath for y/n to be okay.

he's shaking, filled with lead and a lump in his throat. he and y/n aren't super close, due to their team differences, but every time he spoke to her she had a certain gleam in her eye that one only had when they weren't afraid of death.

this worried him. racing was her life - would she succumb easily? it was a known fact that many drivers drove as if they had nothing to lose.

the idea of her choking on mortality in her chassis scared him more. maybe her body was broken, and the pain was all she could feel as the life drained from her? he worried for those that would have to witness the blood and bruises when she was pulled from her car.

"we've got an update on y/n."

he was pulled out of his mind. "tell me. please."

"she's getting herself out. the paramedics were taking too long, so she took it upon herself, apparently." a startled laugh falls out of charles' lips as he cheers back.

---

muscles screaming, y/n forces herself to lift out of the cockpit, allowing her body the only relief of rest once her upper half is slung over the halo. for about five seconds she stops, before she forces herself to continue.

the safety car and paramedics are here now, and camera crew for the live footage plus the netflix crew are close behind.

people are shouting at her to stop, but she continues to claw her way out of the wreckage.

she's crying and praying to a god she never knew she believed in as she forces her broken legs out of the car, sliding over the side to the ground.

she stands and looks around at the medical crew who are advancing towards her and tries to take her helmet off. she can't, and they're reassuring her that they'll do it for her.

y/n looks out at the audience and raises one arm to greet them. she's met with immediate raucous applause and, swaying for a few seconds, she falls.

---

"you would never believe it. this lady is pulling herself out of her car. as the camera zooms, you can really see the absolute strength this is taking her - hold on, we're getting audio now."

the world watches with bated breath as the coverage of her climbing out of the car begins to play. you can hear the agonised screams she lets out as she forces herself to exit, and just how broken some of her limbs look. her left ankle hangs limply, and she has to use both arms to force her right leg out of the cockpit.

"what a magnificent scene. y/n y/ln has kissed death, and still lives to tell the tale. we see her now, standing on the track as the medical staff come to her aid, and she falls. a very fair response to what she has just gone through. a round of applause to y/n y/ln, the girl who kissed death!"

---

"so lando, congratulations on p4. obviously, the whole crash between logan and y/n caused a damper on the overall race. how do you feel about it?" the interviewer pushed a mic at his face.

"the crash? yeah, it was terrifying not knowing if she was okay or not. i'm not surprised she ended up climbing out of the chassis herself," he laughs softly. "i've never known her for being patient."

"how do you feel about her new nickname?"

"nickname?"

"people are calling her 'the girl who kissed death'."

lando can't stop a high-pitched laugh from escaping. "girl who kissed death? that's stupid. oh god, i can't wait for her to find out about that. she'll be proper pissed off."

"right, well, thanks lando. have fun celebrating!" the interviewer bids him farewell.

---

a few months later:

over the healing process, y/n was forced to give multiple statements, post social media posts, and even a quick video from the hospital bed, but when she sees comet, her resolve finally fails.

she begins to tear up as the scruffy dog barks at her, jumping up and down.

"someone's excited to see you," lewis hamilton, the temporary guardian of the dog, grins.

roscoe stomps his feet and licks y/n, panting at her.

"awe, little babies. i was so scared of dying and leaving comet all alone, but i think he would've been fine."

lewis glances down at the kneeling girl in front of him and tsks, nudging her with his foot. "don't say that, y/n. nobody would've been fine."

"yeah?"

"yeah. have you seen all the tiktok edits of your crash? people were terrified. i was terrified."

y/n doesn't say anything, but stands to hug the british man.

he holds her back, before clearing his throat. "save that love for death. heard you've kissed it before."

"fuck off."

--- la fin ---

[thewitchblue]

"It's jam day! Get out of my kitchen."

You announced, surrounded by various fruits and berries, which Damian expertly began to cut the berries and separated them accordingly. He was one of the two who were allowed to help you by cutting everything. Everybody filtered out disgruntled, but they all knew better than to fight you on it from past experiences.

The Flash family lost their knife privileges in your kitchen after Wally almost cut off his fingertip due to him using his superspeed to chop rhubarb and getting distracted. You drove him to the ER but said his knife privileges were revoked indefinitely. Never again will he be allowed near a knife in your home.

The Amazonians and their sidekicks weren't allowed to touch any blade at all in your home, let alone cut something. Their skill with blades are impressive, but you don't want to risk them getting into a fight with the Bats. You could already imagine Cassie stabbing Jason or Damian simply for hurting Tim in the past. They will gain their knives when they learn to tune out the boys or have the patience for the tediousness.

The Martians were allowed knives until Meg'nn accidentally threw one telepathically and almost took out Jason's eye. She apologised, but you prioritised Jason's eye at the time. He didn't seem particularly phased about almost losing an eye, but what else do you expect from him when he has literally died?

The Arrows were only there to mess with the Bats, and have been banned from the kitchen permanently after Tim threatened to cut out Artemis' tongue and attempted to stab Roy in the throat for one too many gay jokes. Jason was laughing so hard he accidentally stabbed Dick in the back. He mixed up what hand had the knife before hitting Dick between his shoulder blades.

The Lanterns were also just trying to ruin the Batfamily's day, making constructs to interrupt their smooth cutting and generally being annoying. It got to the point that Bruce looked the other way when Dick threw a knife into Hal's chest with as much rage and adrenaline as a provoked gorilla. He learned a thing or two in the circus. Knife throwing was the coolest thing ever to his eight year old self, so he practised with the other acts. Bruce simply refined his skills.

Nobody knew what to do when the knife punctured Hal's lung, having slid between two ribs with deadly accuracy. It was a reminder to everyone not to anger Dick. He still holds a darkness lurking under him with the skills to do something about it.

Dick was mortified about slipping back into his circus tricks, Damian was praising him while examining the wound, Tim put down his knife to get medical supplies, and Jason sighed as if he was remembering the first time Dick threw a knife at him fondly. Alfred suggested he do the cutting from now on, but you told him it was your idea and you would live with the consequences.

This was a lesson that needed to be taught, apparently, as you had to drive Hal to the ER when you ran out of medical supplies while Hal hissed in pain.

The Supers were scarily good with knives and have the patience of gods. It was the Bats who turned on them. Connor was flirting with Tim the entire time, and it got on Damian's nerves. Damian vowed to steal Jason's kryptonite knife and slit Connor's throat until Jon freaked and Damian had to comfort him. He begrudgingly promised to not slit Connor's throat if Jon could make "the discount Tinkerbell" behave. That's his brother, dude, back off!

Jon managed to calm him down easily enough and even managed to give him a hug in front of everybody. Bruce gave Damian an amused smile that made him angry again. Connor had laughed it off at the time, but Tim threatened to dump Damian in a vat of acid "Joker-style" if he dared. Jason had to keep his knife on him for a month before Damian calmed down enough to let it go. Dick actually ended up having to get in between the two before they actually could go through with their threats.

Tim still bought the vat of acid "as a promise." What was alarming to the family the most was that Tim added to the acid occasionally. As if acid wasn't enough, he had to add to it? What is Tim adding? Is he making it more corrosive? Is he making it into the same acid that spit out Joker as promised?

It was all very concerning. Tim can be evil when he's petty. They can't even begin to imagine what he'd do if Damian actually did it. Damian was quite scared if he was honest. Nobody should mess with Tim.

Then, the Bats started fighting among themselves. Jason threw sugar into Dick's eyes (allegedly accidentally), and that delved into a full war between the two that only Alfred and you could sigh about. You grumbled as you watched the bag of sugar get thrown full force at Dick,

"I'm going to have to buy more sugar, Alfred."

Alfred frowned and handed you the credit card Bruce gave him for when he gets groceries and other necessities. He said,

"Let us buy it for you. It was our family's fault."

You tried to reject the card, but Alfred insisted, and you caved into Alfred. Fine. Everything in Gotham is cheap anyway, which is the enticement for everybody to stay in the rat-hole city.

Dick had to get his eyes flushed, and Jason had to sweep up the mess he caused. Alfred guided Dick to your eyewash area (every vigilante and friend needs one.) Dick cracked two ribs and nearly lost both of his eyes. Tim broke his hip when he slipped on the sugar with Damian eventually breaking his leg when he tripped over Tim's body while ducking down to avoid the projectile sugar bag.

The only two people who were allowed to keep their knives were Damian and Tim despite their initial issues and threats with the Arrows and the Supers. They bring chaos, but at least they didn't bring anybody to the ER despite their capability to do so.

The duo worked beautifully together while you worked on making the jams with their carefully cut fruits and berries. Jason loves your blueberry jam with his entire soul. You put a slight lemon flavouring in the mixture because you know he's going to steal it from your fridge once it's completed, and he's been making blueberry lemonade daily recently.

You made Damian a mixed berry jam. He set aside the berries he wanted you to use for him. Blackberry, raspberry, and strawberry this time. You smiled warmly as you grabbed the bowls, and he moved to help Tim cut up the rest of the fruit as well as cut certain pieces smaller for him.

Tim's is oddly specific when he wants a type of jam, and he's always unique every season. He wanted cherry vanilla this time, which you were happy to obliged. That's less to cut!

Dick was... weird. He complained for weeks that he wanted your huckleberry peach jam, claiming,

"SPECIFICALLY Smallville peaches and huckleberries."

You managed to find two farms that allowed you to pick their crops in exchange for their peaches and huckleberries. Easy enough, right? Wrong. It took you four days to harvest the farms, but it was worth it. Dick kept trying to eat all the huckleberries before you could use them. You had to slap away his hand several times and even moved them away from his position. He moved with them, unfortunately, so you said sternly,

"I'm not picking any more berries for this jam, honey bunny. If you want huckleberry jam, leave the huckleberries alone."

He was caught purple-handed. Damian clicked his tongue before saying,

"And I'm not cutting any more of them either."

He begrudgingly stopped and accepted his promise of delicious jam. He missed his travelling circus days and picking huckleberries in his spare time whenever he saw them. It was his favourite berry, and he craved it constantly. It may be a bit bitter, but that's what the peach is supposed to get rid of. You thanked Damian and Tim for their help while whacking away Dick's sneaky hand that was currently reaching for the peaches this time.

"I'll call when I finish making your jam."

It seemed like you dismissed them all, but every hero stayed to hang out in the living room.

Damian and Tim tried to scrub off the purple on their hands from all the berries while you worked on your beautiful jam peacefully. Everybody knows to avoid you when you are in the kitchen after the time Artemis startled you and almost lost a toe when you dropped your knife. Jason laughed as he said,

"Don't interrupt jam time."

[romeavedefenders]

mystreet boys & nicknames

characters; laurance, gene & zenix x reader

author; kiri

a/n: my first post! it's a bit simple, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway. remember, asks are open for feedback and requests <3

c/w: reader is referred to with gendered terms a few times.

Laurance

This man is a big fan of any nickname that gets you flustered, but he has a few particular favourites.

Love and beautiful are nicknames he uses on the regular, so much so that it occasionally makes you wonder if he even remembers your actual name. In fact, Laurance rarely uses your name - why should he, when he has a repertoire of nicknames that fit you perfectly?

Out of all the men mentioned in this post (maybe even out of all the men in MyStreet), Laurance is the frontrunner and reigning champion in making up sickeningly sweet nicknames, such as sugarcakes, buttercup, light of my life, etc.  If stringing together random words into an affectionate term was a crime, he’d be in federal prison at this point. He usually does this to get a rise out of you, especially in front of your mutual friends (who all think its equal parts funny and embarrassing), but he also just enjoys it. He thinks it’s a cute thing to do, and doesn’t really care if others find it odd or embarrassing. Why should he?

He mostly uses your actual name when calling for you or if you’re arguing, mainly to underline that he’s being serious. It’s not really a conscious decision. I like to think that it’s a habit he picked up from Cadenza when they were kids. At some point, this becomes so ingrained in your dynamic that if he, for whatever reason, calls you by your real name, you automatically start wondering if something’s wrong, and if you’re an overthinker…well that can snowball quickly.

Again, that’s not a conscious decision - hence the slip up. Once Laurance becomes aware of this, either by you telling him or him noticing (because if there is one thing this man is, it’s observant), he’ll actually start trying to alternate between using a nickname and your name more often, especially during serious conversations or arguments. Mainly because he is slightly disturbed by the idea that he accidentally had you associating your name with you two arguing.

Another nickname he uses is angel, though it’s reserved for more intimate moments when he gets really sappy. It’s accompanied by whispers of adoration, confessions of love, and reminders of how much you mean to him. He genuinely believes he’s the luckiest man alive to have you, wonderful you, as his partner. You brighten up all of his days, even those you aren’t present for, and bring out the best in him. Sounds a lot like what an angel would do, doesn’t it?

Gene

Another man who loves to make you flustered.

Babe is one he uses often, but for him it’s more a word that's interchangeable with your name, rather than a term of endearment. Still, if someone else called you that - you’d have a really annoyed Gene on your hands. Exceptions are made for people like Lucinda, who will call everyone and their mom every nickname in the book.

A nickname he absolutely loves to use is doll. He thinks it’s really cute (and these days, unique), and it almost never fails to make you blush. Especially when it's accompanied by his signature smirk and husky voice - that usually has a playful lilt to it. When you’re busy doing something, he loves to come up behind you, wrap his arms around your waist and mumble a small “hey doll” into your ear - and if that’s not distracting you enough, he might press a few kisses to your cheek, slowly trailing them down to your jaw.

Another thing he does is add “my” to almost any nickname he uses - “my doll”, “my darling” or just a plain old “my girl/boy”, depending on what you’re comfortable with.

On that note, he’ll sometimes say “good girl/boy” as a response to you listening to him, mostly to get a reaction out of you. And Gene, being the little prick he can be, will deliberately stop saying it for a while if he even suspects you’re getting used to it. It’s really just an ace up his sleeve that he loves to pull whenever you don’t expect it, and your reactions entertain him endlessly.

He’ll also call you sweetheart, though not nearly as often. It’s mostly used when he’s trying to comfort you, or if he himself is having a really shitty day and just needs you nearby (preferably, in his arms).

I cannot remember if this was confirmed or not, but i HC Gene as being at least partly hispanic, so i think he might occasionally use spanish terms of endearment such as mi amor or mi cielo.

Zenix

Honestly, this guy isn’t really all that big on nicknames (unless dumbass, pain in the ass and idiot count). He has nothing against them, but you already have a name, and he likes it, so why not use it? He’s not great at thinking of good ones either, and he feels like most of them just don’t roll off the tongue that naturally. Nicknames like love, darling and dear feel especially awkward to him, and it’s only slightly because emotional vulnerability and casual proclamations of love scare the shit out of him.

Like Gene, he’ll use babe more than others, though mostly in an obnoxious way. If he wants something, or is just being whiny in general, he’ll call you that until you give him the attention he wants.

If you like nicknames, he honestly tries really hard. Most of them just feel really awkward to him, and he doesn’t really see the point until you start calling him various nicknames, and it kind of clicks in his head why people like it so much.

At some point you stop using them, thinking they make him uncomfortable, and he gets genuinely upset. He stumbles through a flustered explanation, where the bottomline is that withholding affection from him like that should be considered a crime, a description you laugh at, but take to heart. When you tell him that you simply assumed he was uncomfortable because he doesn’t call you anything in return, he grumbles about how assumptions are stupid and you should just ask him instead.

Still, Zenix knows it takes two to tango, and after that, he grows a bit more comfortable with nicknames. He tries out a bunch, but it’s mostly because he gets a kick out of your reactions. 

In private, he likes to call you sexy, mostly as a joke. There is truth to it of course, he thinks you’re extremely attractive, but the word is just really funny to him. Plus, your flushed face is one hell of a bonus. He would never dare call you that in front of others, especially not Gene and Sasha, so that’s a prime opportunity to get revenge for whatever torment he puts you through.

Honorable mention; hot stuff is another one he might use, for the same reason.

Zenix also really likes to just refer to you as “mine”. He’s possessive, moreso out of insecurity than distrust, though he does find it difficult to put his faith in anyone - especially a romantic partner, which he struggles to admit. He needs a lot of reassurance, which sometimes just comes in the form of calling you his, and with you affirming.

Unironically (well, kind of) refers to you as his partner in crime. Both in private and with others; it’s not that sweet, sure, but it’s a nice middle ground for him when calling you more affectionate names seems so daunting, especially when others can hear. It kind of becomes your thing after a while, even if one day he grows comfortable enough to express his love for you differently.

Zane

He probably grew up with his parents calling each other all kinds of classy terms of endearment like honey, darling, love, and beloved, and I feel like that kind of carries over to him. In the beginning of the relationship at least. He has other nicknames he prefers to use later on.

Beloved is the one that always sticks. It’s simple, but carries a lot of meaning - literally referring to someone or something that is “dearly loved”. And that perfectly describes how he feels about you.

Zane is not the type to use many terms of endearment in public, if any at all. Not out of shyness, he’s just a pretty private person, and while he doesn’t mind PDA, he doesn’t see the need to flaunt everything about his relationship out in the open. He views terms of endearment as a pretty intimate thing by default, and while he doesn’t mind you using them in public (it makes him smile, honestly), he prefers to keep it to a minimum.

If this bothers you, he’ll use them in front of your friends a bit more often. He doesn’t want you to think that he doesn’t love you enough to show it in front of others.

In private, on the other hand? He’s a sucker for cute nicknames like muffin or pumpkin, both of which he uses a lot. As soon as the door shuts behind you two, he’s practically forgetting your given name in favor of those two. He prefers pumpkin, not for any particular reason. It’s also the one he defaults to when you’re upset. He’ll notice quite quickly, and move you to a quiet area, offering you a hug and mumbling “what’s wrong, pumpkin?” into your hair.

He’s not rapid-firing nicknames like Laurance is, but he’s quite close in the race. It’s just a simple way for him to remind you that he cares about you, something intimate he saves just for you. His family have heard him call you sweet things before (and they definitely enjoy this softer side of him), but he tries to keep it between the two of you.

Nicknames he uses less often, and definitely in a more teasing manner, are bunny or kitty, sometimes just pet. You would not catch him dead calling you any of these in front of anyone else, not even while completely wasted, but if you’re alone and he feels like teasing you? He’s pulling out all the stops.

Pet is one he especially uses when he’s trying to convince you to do something for him. Most of the time, it’s something mundane, like taking care of yourself properly - or making him a cup of tea because he’s too lazy to get up. He knows you can’t say say no when he uses just the right tone of voice, even if you’re cursing him as you stomp off to do whatever it is he said.

Hope you guys enjoyed!

[4barbatos]

✦ seatmate!venti drabbles

— modern high school au

fluff + mild crack .ᐟ ( fem reader )

a/n: this one’s requested by anon !! tysm for the idea <3 i enjoyed writing this sm hehe :3 hope you like it too !! pls keep sending silly venti fic ideas i am thriving off of him being annoying and in love.

✦ seatmate!venti rests his head on your shoulder and pretends to be asleep so you won’t make him move.

“venti, get off.”

he fake snores. loudly.

“you’re literally awake.”

“shhh,” he whispers. “you’re my pillow now.”

you sigh. he smiles. ten minutes later, he mumbles,

“you’re really warm…”

you don’t move.

✦ seatmate!venti asks if you two can be lab partners “in life.”

“venti, it’s just chemistry class.”

“exactly,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. “chemistry.”

“no.”

“denial is the first step to love.”

✦ seatmate!venti writes your name in his notebook with his last name.

“what are you doing.”

“manifesting.”

you look. there’s a little “mrs. venti” in cursive surrounded by sparkles. he’s coloring it in with glitter pen.

✦ seatmate!venti makes you a playlist titled “songs that remind me of us (even tho we’re not dating YET)”

“this is literally just twenty versions of ‘can’t take my eyes off you’.”

“and???”

“…and it’s kind of good.”

“so you admit it.”

“i didn’t say that.”

✦ seatmate!venti calls you his “favorite distraction.”

“you’re staring at me again.”

“yeah. i have a type.”

“what, people who ignore you?”

“people who look cute when they’re trying not to smile.”

✦ seatmate!venti keeps sending you notes during class even though you’re sitting right next to him.

you unfold the fourth one in five minutes. it says:

“do you like me?

☐ yes

☐ yes but in denial

☐ venti please shut up”

you circle the third box and throw it back at his face.

✦ seatmate!venti insists on carrying your bag even though it’s literally heavier than him.

“venti you’re going to snap in half.”

“then i’ll die doing what i love.”

“being annoying?”

“carrying your heart. and also your alarmingly heavy physics binder.”

✦ seatmate!venti gets jealous when someone else borrows your eraser.

“who’s that?”

“albedo. he asked for my eraser.”

“do you give everyone your erasers or am i just not special anymore.”

“…venti.”

“this is worse than betrayal. this is heartbreak.”

✦ seatmate!venti brings you snacks and calls it “wooing.”

“i bought you chips.”

“you got these from the vending machine.”

“with my own two hands. for you. because i’m courting you.”

“you’re unbelievable.”

“you’re welcome.”

✦ seatmate!venti keeps calling you “my muse” while doodling on the corner of his notes.

you glance over. it’s a badly drawn stick figure with little sparkles around it.

“is that me?”

“yes. look how radiant you are.”

“…you gave me three strands of hair.”

“it’s called art style.”

✦ seatmate!venti makes a dramatic scene every time you’re absent.

“the sun didn’t rise yesterday,”

he says when you come back.

“i was gone for one day.”

“i wrote you a poem.”

“venti.”

“would you like me to perform it.”

✦ seatmate!venti keeps quoting love poems dramatically when you pass him a stapler or something.

“i would staple the stars to the sky for you.”

“venti i just asked if you’re done with the assignment.”

“and i am. done. with pretending i don’t love you.”

“i am begging you to be normal.”

✦ seatmate!venti sends you good morning texts even though you literally see him in class an hour later.

“good morning sunshine 💚 did you sleep well? i had a dream we got married. anyway see u in biology hehe”

“please go back to sleep”

“can’t. thinking about u. also i haven’t done the homework pls help”

✦ seatmate!venti says “i love you” every time you lend him a pencil, but today he says it a little too soft. a little too real.

you hand him a mechanical pencil without looking. he takes it and says, like always,

“i love you.”

it’s routine by now. he says it every time. you never respond.

but this time, it’s quieter. gentler.

you glance at him.

he’s not even looking at you. just focused on his notes, twirling the pencil between his fingers like nothing happened.

“venti,” you murmur.

he hums.

you open your mouth to say something — then the teacher calls on you and you lose your nerve.

you don’t bring it up again. but you don’t take your eyes off him for the rest of the period, either.

[sawmaw]

summer scoundrel

🫀 floyd leech x (fem) reader

🫀 hate sex, sub (a bit switchy. bratty?) floyd, femdom, objectification(?), denial, riding, facesitting, 69

🫀 this takes place during the lost in the book with stitch event! this one is more recent but i was writing it during a huuuge writer’s block and it may or may not be obvious. also i know in the event they can’t take off their clothes but i really don’t care. sorry i like guy tits. anyway!

You were beyond frustrated.

Getting stranded on an island was already annoying enough, but everything else was just piling on; what the hell do you mean there are aliens? Sure, the little blue one was cute and helpful and made the bungalow to sleep in so you didn’t have to get eaten alive by mosquitoes any more than you did, but he was also so energetic and so exhausting… and the other alien was flat-out just trying to rid you and your classmates with robot sharks. Absolutely lovely.

You were also tired of fruit already. You normally loved it, but having it with every meal each day was just rough. Your jaw was sore from chewing coconut, your tongue felt raw from eating pineapple, and you had no taste for more berries and fish. You just wanted a nice steak at this point—rare, so it would be easier on your jaw.

And more, you’ve felt more pent up than you thought was necessary after a few days. Normally when you were on vacation, you would just take care of yourself in the shower if you needed. Here, you have absolutely no chance. None of you were supposed to wander off alone, especially you, being the only one without magic to fight for yourself, so that was off the table. You couldn’t sneak away because someone would eventually find you, whether it be Gantu and his shark bots, one of your schoolmates, or Stitch. You didn’t feel comfortable doing it late at night, either; what if someone hears? How could you even clean up afterwards?

Again, beyond frustrated.

The outfits that everyone were put in certainly didn’t help. You didn’t think you would be one to stare, but you really couldn’t keep your eyes to yourself. It was like that book was just taunting you when it did it. Did Riddle’s shirt have to be tied up like that? Put up just enough to make you want to pick him up by the waist and carry him off to who-knows-where?

Admittedly, you had originally thought your sights would be set on Jack—his outfit really didn’t leave much to the imagination… however, most of your attention was drawn to Floyd.

…Has he always looked like that? Sure, you’ve seen his arms during his basketball games, but (pardon your vulgarity) when the fuck did he get massive tits?

How does he even hide it? Is it just because he wears baggy shirts? Are you an idiot? You feel like an idiot.

You really couldn’t help your staring, or your mind wandering. You silently cursed the universe for it. Why it had to be right now that you see him, when you can’t even do anything about your frustrations, you had no clue.

Yet another night rolls around and you have to sit by the bonfire again, you have to force your eyes to stay on the flames again, you have to constantly bounce your leg in your seat to distract yourself again. You hadn’t said a word in what felt like hours, but it wasn’t much of an issue—everyone else filled in the silence just fine.

Even as it grew later and some of the others slowly trickled back into the bungalow for bed, you stayed put and quiet. You, Floyd, Lilia, and Ace remained—the usual night owls. The other three continued to entertain each other, and sand eventually ended up getting thrown at Ace. Normally you’d laugh, but right now you actually couldn’t give a fuck about your surroundings.

Only when it felt like your eyes would take damage did you finally tear them away from the fire… and immediately to the sand. It really felt like something was wrong with you, you just could not think about anything else. You wanted to see how he’d look with his wrists handcuffed to your bed (or even behind his back), how he’d look on his knees, how he’d look in bondage.

You wondered if he would be good at eating pussy. He looked like he would be. Or maybe not. Maybe you’re just delusional. Maybe you could teach him how to, if he doesn’t. Maybe you could teach him until it’s all he ever wants to do, to bury his face between your thighs, to slowly circle his tongue around your clit just the way you like.

You shifted slightly in your seat on the makeshift bench (it was just a log, but whatever), you could almost feel his tongue on you. You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to fight off the dull throb between them, the mental image of your hand in his hair burned into your brain. How much longer do you have to be stuck on this island like this?

You’re just curious is all. You’re just curious as to how he’d react if you rode his dick even after he’d already came, how much he’d squirm if you just sit there and edge him until he can’t even properly speak, how he’d—

“So ya stare at me almost the entire time we’re here, ‘n’ now ya won’t look at me?”

Floyd’s abrupt voice forced you back to reality, your attention snapping up to him from across the fire. You immediately realize Lilia and Ace were gone—when did they go to bed? You didn’t even notice.

You blinked at him, silent for a few moments. You thought you were being discreet enough. Still, you don’t really care much to fully deny it. How do you even respond to that?

“…I dunno.” you eventually murmured with a halfhearted shrug. You looked him in the eyes, and you still couldn’t stop yourself from imagining them welling with tears of pleasure as you…

Man, you really need to knock it off. Maybe you should schedule a therapy session soon, this can’t be normal.

He giggled in response, a wolfish grin on his face. “What, d’ya want something?”

Yes. Obviously. Is he stupid? No, he’s not, he probably knew. He totally knew. You wish you could go just one day without something poking fun at you. Fuck that book, fuck the universe, fuck Floyd. For the love of all things holy, fuck Floyd.

“Nope.” You tried to play it all off, you truly did, but it just wouldn’t work. Of course, that only made him want to prod even more.

“Your poker face sucks, Shrimpy.” he drawled.

“I dunno, your necklaces.” you lied. Curse your pride. “They’re dumb as hell and they’re loud and jangly when you move.”

His humored snort irritated you to no end, but you still managed to keep a straight face. “Really? I think they’re pretty cool.” He glanced down at the array of necklaces dangling from his neck and brushed a hand against them, just to hear the clanking of the fake pearls.

“They’re not.” Really, they looked like something you’d buy from a party store. You think, at least. You can’t really remember the last time you went to a party store.

“Should I take ‘em off, then?” He then bunched the necklaces in his hand.

“No,” you replied almost too quickly, “just saying they’re stupid.”

And of course, Floyd just ignored you and pulled them up over his head anyway, giving you a better view of his body through his open shirt. Okay, now that’s just mean. Is he making fun of you? He has to be.

Your eyes flickered down to the necklaces tossed haphazardly on the sand, your hands fidgeting in your lap. You didn’t know if you wanted to pounce on him so you could fuck him or so you could throw him into the fire.

You swear your mouth was going to start bleeding from how much you were biting the insides of your cheeks.

“You’re mad if I don’t wear ‘em now.”

It had absolutely nothing to do with the necklaces, and you knew he knew that, too. “I really don’t care.”

“Then look at me ‘n’ tell me what the problem is.”

You wanted to roll your eyes until he suddenly snapped his fingers to try and get your attention back on him.

The pure disrespect—you’re not a dog. He’s more of a dog than you ever will be, and you’ll put a leash on him to prove it if you have to.

“Snap at me like that again and you’re losing your fingers.” Truly, you didn’t have the patience for that tonight. Or any night.

“Are ya gonna bite ‘em off? Scary.” His sarcasm made you want nothing more than to shut him up in any way you could. Choke him, gag him, sit on his face, cover his mouth, anything. Just take a deep breath and calm yourself. “C’mere so I can hear ya better. The fire’s too loud.”

Oh, for the love—

“Fine.” You then stood and trudged around the fire so you could sit yourself next to him on that uncomfortable log. Stitch could build an entire bungalow, several blankets, pillows, even sleep masks all from scratch, but he couldn’t make a few couches or chairs out here? Really?

“Now,” he hummed as he leaned against your shoulder, “what’s got ya so mad, Shrimpy?”

It would probably be a good idea to shove him off, but your thoughts were a bit too obstructed right now. “I’m not.”

“Seem mad to me. Are ya mad at me?” You could feel his eyes burning into you, though you still stared at the sand below. Just don’t pay attention to him or his head on your shoulder.

“No.” you mumbled through gritted teeth.

“Then whaddya—“

“Just—just this!” You abruptly pushed him off and grabbed a handful of his shirt, giving it a harsh yank. You blatantly ignored his sharp inhale of surprise and his widened eyes. “What the fuck is this? You show up in this and I just have to try to act normal?!”

Floyd was silent for a few beats before a toothy grin slowly stretched on his face. “…So that’s what this’s about?”

“Yes,” you hissed, “that’s what this’s about. When the hell’d you even start looking like that? Have you always looked like that?”

“Like what?”

“You—you know how!” You just wanted to absolutely throttle him right now, and all he’s doing is smiling and snickering.

He grabbed your wrist and moved it to push your palm into his chest, and all you could pay attention to was how easily your fingers sunk into the flesh. Fuck’s sake. “Like that?”

“Obviously.” You didn’t hesitate to give a tight squeeze—you really didn’t have a reason to restrain yourself anymore.

Floyd visibly suppressed a wince, his fingers twitching around your wrist. “I mean—“

“I don’t actually care.” Your hands continued to aimlessly wander around his chest, his torso, his arms. Maybe you were overwhelming him, you weren’t paying much attention.

He never stopped you, though, so there’s that at least. “Got handsy quick, Shrimpy.” he mused as you squeezed and felt around his shoulders.

“Shut up.”

“‘Kay.” And then he swatted your hands away and slid himself onto the sand, his fingers hooking around the waistband of your shorts.

“…Hell’re you doing?” Despite the irritation in your voice, you still lifted your hips to aid him in tugging your shorts down. You weren’t just gonna not do that and blueball (Bluepussy? Blueclit? Whatever) yourself.

“What’s it look like? I’m shutting up.” He kept eye contact as he guided your thighs apart before leaning in, using his teeth to grab the edge of your panties and tug them down. He didn’t bother to look and see what the book had decided to put on you, and neither did you. It could’ve been the best lingerie you’ve ever seen or the ugliest pair that you’d find at an old thrift store, you didn’t know nor care.

He lazily pulled your thighs onto his shoulders. It wasn’t much longer until his tongue slowly dragged over your clit, and you were unable to stop your body from tensing. His tongue felt weirdly soft and long—is that just a merfolk thing? Oh, who cares, it feels good.

The moment your hand slid itself into his hair, he immediately dove in. His lips latched on and he gently suckled on your clit, his tongue swirling with newfound vigor in a way that had your hips involuntarily squirming against his face.

“F-fucking slow down—“ you managed to gasp out before slapping your free hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle your own choked moans and squeals. You really didn’t want to wake anyone up, even if they were inside the bungalow.

Floyd deliberately disregarded your words and let out a small hum against you, the vibrations making your thighs clamp around his head. Despite your earlier thoughts, you couldn’t exactly tell whether he was actually good at it or not; he was just doing whatever he felt like, no organized movements. It worked, at least.

Your orgasm was building a lot quicker than you would’ve liked. You tried and tried again to tug him back by the hair, yet he refused to let up. His hands grabbed onto your hips to hold you in place, his tongue keeping its steady pace. You were just about to cum, until he stopped altogether.

He pulled away with a taunting chortle while you twitched and squirmed from the unsatisfying denial.

“…Dickhead.” You planted a foot on the center of his chest, shoved him onto his back and kicked some sand at him—just for good measure.

You didn’t give him time to respond before plopping yourself on top of him to straddle his hips.

“What, whaddya gonna do?” What you wanted was to beat that smile off his face, but you couldn’t really do that, could you?

The moment Floyd’s hands found your waist, you tugged them off with an absentminded ‘don’t touch me.’

His grin immediately dropped into a pout, still trying and failing to get his grip on you again. “C’mon, Shrimpy, don’t be mean…” he whined, planting his feet in the sand in an attempt to grind his clothed cock into you.

Oh, the audacity of this man. “Stop squirming.”

“I’m not squirming!”

“You are!”

“I’m just getting comfortable.”

“Well, knock it off, the stupid button on your shorts hurts.”

”Then take ‘em off—“

You gave a swift smack to his chest before he could finish his growled demand. “Don’t even try that with me right now.”

The smack made him writhe a bit more with a small huff. “…Do that again.”

And so you did without hesitation, delivering another equally-as harsh slap to his skin, which drew an odd cackle from him.

“Thanks, Miss Shrimpy.” he said way too gleefully for your tastes as he bucked up against you again.

You wanted to grimace at the name, but your attention was quickly brought back to his grinding. “I said quit that.” you mumbled, finally making a move to unbuckle and open his belt.

“You take forever.” Floyd complained, not wasting another second before helping to tug his shorts down enough for his dick to spring out. He grabbed your hips again to try and pull you onto himself. “Now get on, get on, get on, get on…”

And you didn’t let him, just yet. You kept your hands firm on his chest to hold yourself up. “I’m not getting on after what you did.”

“Aw, c’mon!” he whined, “I was being nice. I could’ve been a lot worse!”

Now, how the hell was edging you nice? Whatever. You didn’t answer him, because why should you?

You grind your pussy down against his dick, your slow pace almost agonizing for him (and yourself, but his impatient desperation was a lot more important than yours right now).

It was only a few rolls of your hips before they were grabbed forcefully with a low whimper from Floyd. “Okay, I get it, Shrimpy, I get it.” His fingers dug into your skin, hoisting you up to hover over his aching cock. “Just do it already.”

“I’m not gonna—“

“Please?”

That made your jaw tense a bit. “…’Please,’ what?”

“Please fuck me?”

You hardly even registered what you were doing before you finally let your hips sink down, slowly taking in his dick. The low whine drawn out from him almost made your breath falter, and your fingers twitched against his chest with each inch.

You had to keep still for a few seconds after bottoming out to adjust, because by God he felt bigger than you were anticipating.

Predictably, he wasn’t very patient once he was inside. “Shrimpy, are you gonna move? Please? Please move, please, please—“

“Would you just sh-shut up?” Despite your best efforts, your voice was a bit shaky while your body got used to the feeling.

“I’m just askin’ ya to move!” Again, he attempted to squirm underneath you until you smacked his chest, his hand shooting to cover his mouth and suppress a whimper.

“Yeah, yeah, be patient…” After a few moments, you let yourself slowly lift your hips before abruptly slamming them back down, the feeling of his dick immediately hitting your sensitive g-spot forcing a sharp gasp from you—fuck, it was like he was just made for your pussy. Was that even possible? You almost wanted to ask if you could get a custom toy modeled after it.

Later, though.

“No, no, don’t stop right now, Shrimpy…” His arms wrapped around your waist and you’re suddenly pinned against his chest as he pounded into you from below.

Is this guy allergic to going slow?

You weren’t even given the opportunity to reply before your hair was tugged back and his mouth was on yours, muffling any noises either of you made as his tongue slipped its way past your lips.

Again, his tongue felt so strange, so foreign against yours. Not unpleasant in the slightest, you almost wished you’d kissed him sooner than now; it just felt good.

Until it was forced down your throat. You didn’t know if he just got overly excited but it really just felt like he was trying to facefuck you with his tongue, tears pricking your eyes while you tried to suppress a gag. You struggled in his grasp, overwhelmed with both the lack of air and his cock slamming into you harder than you could process, and he snickered into the ‘kiss.’

You finally managed to squirm free and broke away to gasp for breath, planting your hips down harsh enough to pin his own to the sand. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?” you managed between your panting.

“My bad.” Nothing about his demeanor was apologetic, though—not his tone, not his grin, not his hands already trying to lift your hips again.

“That’s not an apology.”

“Sorry, Miss Shrimpy.”

A swift slap to his face. “What’d I tell you about that?”

“Sorry.”

To your own mild surprise, your hand wrapped around his throat with a squeeze, though what surprised you even more was that he was just letting you.

You didn’t ask why.

Your eyes narrowed and your hips slowly ground down, trying not to pay too much attention to how your clit rubbed against his skin. “Why can’t you just be fucking respectful?”

“I said I was sorry!” he pouted, his voice scratchy from your choking him.

“Are you really sorry?”

Floyd nodded with a whine. “Yeah, sorry, I get it, just go faster…” He tugged you up again and you allowed it. “You forgive me, right, Shrimpy?”

You didn’t want to, but whatever; you just wanted to cum at that point. “Fine.”

At that, his hands guided your hips to slam down against his again. He let his own moans flow freely, though his smile made it obvious that they were exaggerated just to further piss you off. “Shrimpy, it feels so good…”

“Quit that, y-you’ll wake someone up.” You gave his neck another squeeze in warning.

“That’s their problem! Not like they didn’t already know ya wanted to fuck me.”

You could feel your face heat up in embarrassment at the thought—you really hoped nobody else actually noticed your staring. “…Shut up.” You used your hand on his chest for better leverage to pound his cock harder.

Floyd’s breath caught, his head thrown back as he tried to match your pace. His jaw clicked shut with a curse through his teeth, unable to get out any more words to taunt you with.

A few more moments, and he was already throbbing inside you from his impending orgasm. “Sh-Shrimpy—“

“Nope.” You immediately lift yourself off enough for his dick to slip out, twitching from the sudden loss of stimulation.

“What, no? No, no no no, no ‘no,’ don’t ‘no…’” he babbled as a panic immediately set in. He tried to force you back down, his hips surging up to no avail. “I said I was sorry! I did, Shrimpy!”

His hands were tugged away again and you shifted atop of him, crawling your way up his body before turning around to hover your cunt above his tearful face. “Make it up to me, then.”

Without a moment of hesitation, Floyd yanked you down. His tongue delved and writhed in desperation with mumbles of ‘sorry’ and ‘promise,’ each vibration from his begging making your thighs twitch around his head.

It was better (albeit more frantic) the second time around, which you were appreciative for.

His dick trembled and leaked with precum in front of you, crying more than he himself was. “There, good boy…” you hummed, your fingers wrapping around him to give a few leisurely strokes.

Another whine from him and his tongue shoved itself inside you. Sure, getting tonguefucked works, too, you supposed.

You leaned down to press a few kisses along his length, his hips instantly bucking up against your face. “Chill out.” you hissed, trying to hold him down.

“Wanna cum…” It took a few moments, but he eventually relented and kept still.

“Me first.” With that, you allowed his tip to push past your lips. Normally you’d take more than that, but you really didn’t feel like it. It’s not like he needed anything more, anyway.

Or deserved anything more.

His response was to pump his tongue deeper into your pussy, only pulling it out to swirl at your clit every few moments.

You tried to keep your focus on pulling your mouth off his tip each time he started twitching again, but it was getting so, so hard to with the knot in your core rapidly tightening.

You didn’t bother to warn him before your thighs involuntarily squeezed around his head and your vision went white, your hand returning over your mouth to quiet down your own sounds that didn’t really sound quite like yourself.

Once you were at least somewhat aware of your surroundings again, you felt a hand roughly grasp your hair and his dick forced down your throat again. You weren’t even able to catch your breath first, how rude.

Floyd only needed to pump a few more times, the feeling of his cum shooting at the back of your throat making you flinch atop of him and instinctively swallow. You hardly noticed his panting and his whiny thank you’s when you pull off, finally gasping for air.

“…Ask to do that next time.” you grumbled, wiping your mouth with the back of your wrist as you slid yourself off of him to fetch your clothes from wherever they’d been thrown.

“I know, I know, sorry! It was taking forever!” It almost annoyed you that he was able to just zip right back up and buckle his belt in no time, while you had to slip everything on again. It would’ve been great if the book gave you more accessible clothes, but fine. “I’ll make ya somethin’ good tomorrow, Shrimpy. Iunno, I’ll catch a different fish than everyone else for ya in the morning. It’ll be a big one, too.”

“Mhm, sure, let’s just wash off in the water.”

“Nope! Don’t feel like it. I wanna go to bed.”

“Then you can go do that, I’m washing—“

“Nope!” He scooped you up in his arms, deliberately locking you against himself to keep you from moving as he trudged his way back up to the bungalow. “Bedtime.”

You grimaced. “Ulch, we're all sticky, though.”

“Yep. Maybe we’ll wake up stuck together in the morning ‘n’ everyone else’ll have to peel us apart.”

“You’re nasty.”

[pitchsidestories]

training season II Lucy Bronze x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1140

summary: Lucy and you're married, but she still wants to impress you especially during gym sessions with the team.

a/n: hi, it's based off this request here, we hope you enjoy it as much as we did while writing the oneshot.

Staying focused.

That was always your priority when you were in the gym with your Barcelona teammates.

Your hands were getting sweaty as you did your last set of leg presses on the machine.

Alexia did the same exercises next to you. You liked being in her presence, she always made sure you pushed yourself.

But today, she seemed distracted, pausing in the middle of her set.

“Y/n, your wife…“, she said into the silence.

“What about her?“, you huffed as you pushed the weight with your legs once again.

Alexia rolled her eyes: “She’s annoying.“

“Annoying, huh?“, you laughed. You set your feet down and turned towards your wife.

“Look.“ Alexia nodded in her direction and resumed her exercises.

Lucy was in the middle of the floor, doing push-ups in rapid succession.

You smirked: “Luce is trying to impress.“

“I wonder who she’s trying to impress here. It’s definitely not us.“, Mapi teased. She was sitting on a gymnastic ball and grinned at you.

You shrugged innocently: “Who knows.“

Still, your gaze subconsciously drifted back to your wifes biceps.

“Pretty obvious.“, Alexia concluded with a raised eyebrow.

On the order side of the gym, Lucy looked over to Mariona who was next to her on the floor, massaging her muscles with a foam roller.

“Mario, is she looking?“

“Yes, and everyone else too.“, the midfielder replied, sounding bored.

Patri joined the conversation, letting herself drop on the mat next to Mariona: “Also you know that this rooms isn’t that huge and everyone can hear you, right, Lucia?“

“Shut up.“, Lucy replied jokingly.

The younger player just shrugged: “Your wife doesn’t look too impressed so far.“

Lucy frowned as she looked over towards you: “It’s because Alexia and Mapi keep distracting her.“

“Or you need to do something more impressive.“, Mariona suggested.

The defender stopped doing push-ups and considered her teammate for a moment: “I think I have an idea for that.“

She got up, moved over towards a pull-up bar and started doing pull-ups. No break between the exercises, just steady and quick movements over and over again. The veins in her forearms started to protrude and her breathing pattern was off,

You could tell when your wife was overdoing it.

“Lucia Roberta Tough Bronze!“, you called her.

She let go of the bar and dropped to her feet: “Yes?“

The smile on her face let you know that she got what she wanted. Your attention.

“Sarina Wiegman would kill you if she saw you doing that!“, you warned her. It was a running gag between the two of you. Her national team coach was always worried about Lucy doing too much at her age.

Your wife shrugged: “She’s not here though!“

“Still, that’s why we won the world cup against your team, you never listen to the advice your coach gives you.”, you remarked with the hands demonstrative on your hips.

“Excuse me what?!”, she replied, in an attempted scandalized tone.

“You heard me.”, you countered smirking.

“You know that’s a lie. You were just lucky.”, Lucy protested, despite her playful annoyance, her green eyes lit up during your banter, there were only a few things she enjoyed more than this.

“Yes, it was. But maybe you should focus more on your running than your arms.”, you continued, the smirk on your lips deepened as you padded her shoulder, feeling the muscles working underneath the skin.

“What’s that supposed to mean, huh?”, the defender pouted. Although she clearly enjoyed that you finally touched her.

“Oh, nothing.”, you answered innocently.

“You couldn’t go a day without touching my biceps.”, your wife responded confidently, flexing said body part to underline what she just said.

“In fact, y/n already touched it.”, Mapi observed with a cheeky smile on her face. Obviously, the heavily tattooed Spaniard was on her side.

“Mapi!”, you scolded only half-heartedly.

“See? Maybe you should work on your arms instead.”, Lucy gave you one of her winning grins.

“Rude. Gym session is over though, so it’s time for training and there I want to see you run.”, you reminded her winking.

“Don’t worry. I’ll try to tackle you not too hard.”, the older woman promised snorting.

Watching you two from the distance Alexia turned curiously to the other English player in the room:” Keira? Were they always like that?”

“Yeah, we’re lucky that we’re in training otherwise they’d start making out.”, Keira made gagging noises.

“That sounds like them.”, the captain admitted.

“It’s weird.”, the red-haired midfielder told her teammate.

“It’s not!”, Lucy  promptly shot back.

“Oh, thought you were too busy flirting with your wife.”, Keira mocked her.

“She’s very sensitive about it.”, you explained quickly.

“Lucia?”, Mapi called your wife.

“Huh?”, she looked up to her.

“Let’s see who’s the first one on the training pitch!”, the Spanish woman proposed to the older player who never said no to a challenge.

“Obviously me!”, Lucy yelled excitedly, before the two of them start running, leaving everyone else behind them, almost crashing into a staff member while doing so.

“I won’t let you win, you impressed your wife enough.”, you could hear Mapi shout at her.

With a loud sigh Ingrid wrapped her arm around your shoulders, while you both walked in a normal pace to the training pitch:” They don’t belong to us, y/n.”

“Of course not.”, you agreed smiling.

“No, we always know they’re your two idiots.”, Alexia shook her head.

Watching your wife and teammate race each other, you sighed: “Yeah okay, they are.“

“See.“ Alexia gave you a told-you-so-look that you chose to ignore.

On the other side of the pitch, Lucy announced proudly: “I was first!“

“No, you weren’t.“, Mapi disagreed, pouting.

Lucy lowered her voice: “Shhh, don’t tell anyone.“

The Spanish defender let out a laugh, her gaze shifting in your direction: “I’m sure your wife still loves you anyway.“

“I do.“, you confirmed, wrapping her arms around your wifes waist as you arrived on the pitch.

She turned towards you, looking directly at you: “Just for the record, we were here at the same time.“

You nodded slowly: “Sure, love.“

Lucy considered you for a moment. With a smile on her face, she pressed a kiss to your temple and whispered: “I can’t wait to go home with you later…“

Keira grimaced in disgust: “Too much information.“

“Sorry.“, you grinned innocently. You took a step back from your wife. There was still a light training session to be done and you needed to focus on that.

But the truth was, you could not wait to go home either.

You would never admit it but yes, it worked. You were, in fact, impressed by her silly antics.

Even after years of marriage, your gaze always found her in every room.

There was no need to impress you, she always had your attention.

[revelboo]

It was a happy day when I found this treasure trove of reader insert transformers fics <3 Thank you for writing these.

You mentioned that the idw/g1 wheeljack fic is currently your favourite, what a coincidence it also happens to be my current favourite :D I swear that mech is criminally under appreciated. If you still have the enthusiasm to write that one I would love to see more. I need to see the human reassure wheeljack that they are not going to just abandon him. Please he deserves the world :')

Oooh drama. Yes, please

Circuits and Wires Pt 4

IDW Wheeljack x Reader

• Bent over a project, he’s aware of you watching him. Also very aware that you’re sitting crosslegged much closer to what he’s working on than he’d like and the little clinking as you toy with the pin to the fire extinguisher in your lap is distracting him. It’s not because you don’t trust him, but because his latest doohickey just keeps overheating and catching on fire. And he almost suspects that you’re enjoying putting the fire out and then walking over to drag a new extinguisher closer from the pile.

• Honestly, you’d have given up after whatever that thing is had caught on fire the first three times, but that’s one of the things you like best about Wheeljack. No matter how many times he fails, he doesn’t get discouraged or give up. He just laughs it off, that low, rumbling sound warm as it spreads through you and he starts over. You like watching him work, hearing him try to explain stuff to you, talking like he’s certain you can understand even if you rarely do. And this experiment isn’t the explosive kind at least. “You’ve got it this time,” you say, smiling up at him when he glances your way. Those vocal indicator fins on his helmet flicker mauve before shifting back to their normal cheery blue.

• No matter how many times he fails, you just keep encouraging him and that spreads warm through him, twines about his spark as he pauses to reach and run the tip of a servo over your cheek and you rest your palm against him. Smiling and that little thing reminds him that this can’t last no matter how much he wants it to. But he can’t keep delaying, sooner or later you’re going to get hurt. “Been talking to a few bots,” he says, reluctantly breaking that contact when he just wants to pick you up, hold on to this. “I think Ratch might take you on. You could help out with little stuff he can’t easily get to.”

• Your breath catches as you stare up at him, trying to figure out what you did wrong. Why he doesn’t want you with him anymore. Probably because he has to worry about you getting hurt all the time, divide his time between his work and you. Maybe he’s grown to resent that. Shoulders slumping, you nod and twist your back on him, because you’re not about to start bawling about this even if his rejection hurts. “If I did something wrong, just tell me,” you say, hating how your voice hitches. “I’ll stop doing it.”

• The hurt in your voice surprises him. That you think he’s just annoyed with you and trying to pawn you off. “It’s not anything you did.” It’s him. How can you not understand that everyone else is right and he’s a walking disaster area? You can’t be just more collateral damage. “The lab isn’t safe for humans. Ratch can-“

• “I don’t want to stay with Ratchet,” you mutter, shoulders hunching and still refusing to look at him. Because you are crying now and you scrub at your face with the back of a hand, mortified and angry. “I like being with you.” You big, sweet idiot. Hiding your face in your hands when he walks around and resisting when he uses a servo to try and move your hands away. Giving up hiding the crying, you swat his servo and glare up at him, aware of how red and splotchy your face must be. The way he freezes, his vocal indicators an edgy yellow-green. “I want to stay.” Don’t make me leave, please.

• Oh. Your chin lifts even as tears roll down your cheeks, because he’s seriously misjudged how attached you are to him and it’s a surprise that warms him. Because you’re this upset about being separated from him and it does things to his spark. You really care this much about him? He’s reaching for you, servos closing around you to lift you and cradle you against the warm mesh of his neck. Shivering as you press your wet cheek against him, making that little, broken sound that hurts his spark. “I want you to stay, too,” he admits, even as worry eats at him. He can protect you, even from himself. He has to, because he can’t lose this.

Previous

Next

My workplace’s theme for Halloween is 80s and one of my coworkers asked if I had any toys from that era or inspired by it. And I think I worried her when I just grinned like a crazy person and asked how much she needed, because I have TRANSFORMERS- and she accidentally gave me an excuse to share my nerdy stuff. Poor kid had that vaguely uncomfortable look people get when they realize they’ve just made a critical, possibly catastrophic error.

Maybe I made the error- a coworker just put on the Megatron helmet and went through the building loudly declaring that they’re Optimus Prime… I just don’t have the heart to correct them…

[starpunkssgalaxy]

another sbg headcanons post 🤝

- ash will randomly get the shakes after everything that happened in the phantom dimension, if you look through her phone camera roll a lot of the pictures are blurry because she cant stop her hands from shaking

- ^ aiden lends her his rubix cube (other fidget toys) to try and help her calm down and give her something else to focus on

- taylor lovesss rollercoasters and will always drag tyler along, tyler isn’t terrified but they’re definitely not his favorite

- logan has a pair of converse that he needs to retire so bad, these shoes are hanging on by a thread its so bad 😭

- aiden can fall asleep anywhere, like tf are you doing in the sink??? (if he didnt have insomnia. we all seen those eyebags he dont sleep lol)

- ben is really quiet when he walks so sometimes he’ll just appear behind you and scare the shit out of you

- when the group needs bait/a distraction everyone always turns to tyler and taylor. they use the “get help” strategy, its usually tyler leaning on taylor like hes hurt and taylor screaming for help (guys say yk what im talking about 😔, thor and loki?)

- aiden trying to lighten the mood after being in the phantom dimension: so.. smash or pass?

everyone else: 😐

- aiden the type to tell the exact same story 15 times to the group forgetting hes already told them the story but they listen every single time too

- logan knows how to breakdance??? he just busted it out randomly one day and everyone was floored 😭💀

- when ben is mad/annoyed he does that thing cats do where he’ll just slowly slide something off a shelf or table onto the floor

- group went roller skating once and obviously ash was amazing at it, and ben, taylor, and logan were pretty good as well but meanwhile aiden and tyler were just either tripping eachother, holding on to eachother for support or dying laughing when one of them fell and ate shit

- in class they were assigned those fake babies you have to take care of, logan? amazing at it but was so tired afterwards. ben? pretty good but is a heavy sleeper so slept through the baby crying. taylor and tyler made a good team but tyler almost lost his mind when the baby would just non stop cry. ash evil eyed this thing the whole time, would carry it around by the head 😭 also had her headphones on 24/7 because she couldn’t stand the noise. aiden left his in the freezer, and then couldnt find it for days.

- ben is INCREDIBLE at carnival games, even the rigged ones. the people that own the game booths have genuine beef with ben lmaoo

[lieutenantbatshit]

hii!! i was wondering if you'd be interested in writing a young inho x reader, something fluffy, maybe like a university!au where the reader and inho are both training for police, and they go from meet ugly to lovers?? nothing too long, just a short little au!!

all up to you if you'd like to pick this up!! love ur current series btw

my kind of distraction (hwang in-ho x reader)

Tags: university!au, inho x reader, enemies to lovers, young in-ho, fluff

Summary: You first meet In-ho at a convenience store, unbeknownst to you that he was also party of the police academy you were training for. On your first day of training, you meet In-ho again and think of him as someone who's arrogant during trainings, as he would criticize you whenever you were partnered with him. Over time, you found yourself looking forward to your trainings together. And when you successfully anticipated his next move, for the first time in a while, he smiled.

A/N: I know I used a Mr. Sunshine GIF for this AU, but it's the perfect scenario of what I pictured in my head. I'm sorry this took awhile as I am still grieving over my father, but here it is! 🫡

----

The fluorescent light cast a stark, sterile glow over neatly stacked shelves, the faint beep of the cashier scanning items, and the quiet hum of refrigerators lined with colorful drinks. As you entered the convenience, the smell of instant noodles, cheap coffee, and something fried from the food warmer near the counter reached your nose.

The ground beneath your feet was steady, yet it felt as if you’re walking on air, one breath away from something bigger than your grasp. You took a big step out of your comfort zone, entering the police academy with no connections - just pure luck. For the past few days, you’ve been trying to convince yourself that you made a great choice, that it was enough. Enough to prove the fear doesn’t get to hold you back. That growth isn’t meant to be comfortable. 

You sighed as you grabbed an instant ramen on the shelf, with a soda in a can at hand. You had to eat something, at least. The nervousness in taking it all by yourself, taking control of your life, was starting to get to you. At least, in this way, you felt normal.

You didn’t notice him at first. Not until you round the corner of an aisle, trying to get to the cashier, and see him standing by the refrigerated section.

Tall. Composed. Effortlessly self-assured in a way that feels almost deliberate. 

He doesn’t look around, doesn’t hesitate in his movements. His fingers graze over a row of canned coffee, seeing it labeled as Americano as he plucked one off the shelf with a kind of precision that suggests he does this often. There’s an air of distance about him, something cold and untouchable, like he exists in a space just slightly apart from everyone else. 

Even as another customer brushes past him, murmuring a quiet sorry, he doesn’t acknowledge it, doesn’t shift, doesn’t react. He simply steps back as if it’s expected, as if the world should move around him rather than the other way around. The cool blue light of the fridge highlights the sharp angles of his face. You shook your head, an attempt to shake him away from your thoughts as you noticed yourself staring. He hasn’t noticed you yet. Or maybe he has, and he just doesn’t care. 

And then, as if sensing your stare, he lifts his gaze and meets yours.“You see something you like?” He said, voice low and edged with a quiet arrogance. 

You snapped away from your thoughts immediately as you felt your throat tighten, caught between embarrassment and irritation. 

You open your mouth, ready with a sharp retort, but then he turned away. He walked past you without a glance, the scent of coffee and something clean lingering in the air as he passed. It should be unremarkable, just another fleeting moment in a late-night store. 

But something about him stays with you. You don’t know why yet.

Not yet, anyway.

But one thing’s for sure - that annoyed you more than anything else.

——

The universe had other plans. The kind of plan that didn’t think of you, that didn’t care for your feelings. 

“Hwang In-ho.”

You snapped your head up just in time to see him forward as you stood in formation on your first day of training at the police academy, listening to the instructor call out partner assignments. You nearly feel your stomach drop as you see him, the man you met at the convenience store.

He was composed as ever, his expression still unreadable. 

“And you,” the instructor continues, turning toward you. “You’ll be working with him.”

Your gaze stayed still, trying not to show any emotion from what you felt from your first encounter with Hwang In-ho. You avoided his faze as he walks over to stand beside you; something flickers across his face. A moment of quiet recognition.

His eyes drag over you as if to assess you, tilting his head a bit. Then, he let out a quiet chuckle.

“You again,” he murmured, just low enough that only you can hear. 

You straighten your shoulders, trying not to let his arrogance under your skin. “Guess you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.”

In-ho smirked, his gaze lingering longer before he looked ahead again, completely at ease. “Try to keep up.”

For the past few months, you trained with In-ho. As much as you wanted to think of him as your equal, you can’t help but feel the rivalry between you two. Beside you, In-ho was already prepared, his stance immaculate, and his confidence radiated like an invisible force. 

The sound of boots scraped against the floor echoed in the small, sparse room. You and In-ho stood in the center. The air was thick with anticipation, and despite the calm exterior, you could feel the adrenaline humming through your veins. Today’s training was all about speed and precision - drawing the weapon fast enough to stop a threat before it had a chance to react.

In-ho had already settled into his stance, the gun at his side, but his eyes were sharp, scanning the space like he could already predict what would happen next. His usual cocky smirk was there, though this time, it had a sharper edge to it.

“You ready to keep up?” In-ho asked, his voice almost mocking.

“Just don’t slow me down,” you replied. You tried to ignore the way his words grated against you. You knew he was trying to test you. Drawing the weapon wasn’t just about speed - it was about control, about making every move count without wasting time. 

In-ho turned his head, his eyes glinting with that same arrogant fire. “You should be thanking me for this. You’ll never get this fast on your own.”

You clenched your jaw but didn’t respond. It wasn’t worth it. You knew what you needed to do.

“Go.”

Your fingers shot to the grip of the gun, a smooth, practiced motion - except it wasn’t quite smooth enough. Your hand fumbled slightly at first, a split-second delay in pulling the gun free, and that split-second was enough for In-ho to draw your gun away.

In-ho lowered his gun with a grin, his voice dripping with that all too familiar smugness. “You might want to work on that. A slow draw will get you killed before you even start.”

You felt the heat of frustration surge in your chest, but you swallowed it down. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, he was right. Yet you didn’t want to lose this time. 

“Let’s do it again,” you said, steadying your breathing.

In-ho gave you a cocky nod, clearly entertained. “Fine. But don’t take too long. I wouldn’t want you to waste all my time.”

You took a step closer, not missing a beat. “Oh, I’m sure you’d love to waste more time on me,” you teased, leaning in just enough for him to notice the playful glint in your eyes. “But I think you’re already getting a little distracted.”

In-ho’s expression faltered for a moment, his usual confidence slipping as he caught the shift on your tone. His eyes lingered on you, just a fraction longer than what was considered normal, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of something else behind his gaze. 

At that moment, you knew you caught him off guard.

In-ho’s expression shifted, his confidence momentarily shaken as he cleared his throat. “You think you can distract me that easily?” A tight chuckle escaped from his lips.

You shrugged with a smirk. “I’m sure you can handle it. But I think you might be a little more… interested in what I can do.”

In-ho’s lips twitched, fighting back a smile. For a second, you could see him caught between his usual arrogance and the curiosity that had crept up into his eyes. He cleared his throat, trying to regain control of the situation. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he said, though there was a slight edge to his voice, something more amused than irritated.

“Ready for round two?” You challenged, giving him a wink, this time with more confidence than before. 

“Go.”

The signal came again, and this time, you were ready. Your hand shot to the holster, faster, smoother, pulling the gun with fluid motion from him. You pointed and aimed at In-ho, sending his arms up in surrender. 

For a moment, the room went still. In-ho was caught off guard, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by a flicker of surprise. You couldn’t help but grin, your finger resting lightly on the trigger, though you weren’t about to fire.

“You were saying?” You asked, your voice low and teasing.

In-ho blinked, the smile creeping back onto his face, only this time, it was different. There was something more impressed in it, a quiet acknowledgement of the thought that you just won.

“Guess I underestimated you,” In-ho said, his cockiness returning, though with a slight edge of admiration.

You lowered your gun, placing it on your pockets as you wiped your sweat away with a face towel. “You do that a lot, don’t you?” A soft chuckle escaped from you.

To your surprise, he smiled. “You’re full of surprises.” His voice was almost softer now, a subtle warmth in his words.

You felt your heart skip a beat. There was something about the way he looked at you - something disarmingly genuine in the smile that reached his eyes. As you tried to steady the racing of your heart, you swallowed as you let out a small grin. “You have no idea,” you replied.

In-ho watched you for a moment longer, the smile still playing at the corners of his lips. He seemed to favor the tension between you and him before giving a slight nod. “I think I’m starting to.”

----

>> REQUEST HERE

[the-s1lly-corner]

*blows up in your room*

Hey, could i request an Jax x Cat!Reader who has the same skills and is very alike with the cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland, Like the reader is always with that sharp teeth lazy smile and has the same personality as the cheshire cat too, thank youu (sorry if its confusing, im writing with a translator)

*crawls under your bed*

- 🦭

Jax x cheshire cat type reader!

jokes on you my bed doesnt have any space under it so HAH! another character where i gotta rely on the character wiki and my general understanding of the character from outside references because i have also never watched alice in wonderland/lh

this boy is immediately SMITTEN! like before i didnt think jax had much of a type, or rather i was stumped on what that type would be, but if youre a fellow trouble maker who wants to indulge and aid in his acts..

since you have the same abilities, you both use them to your advantage, it completely elevates jax's pranks and general asshole-ry

you guys look at each other before a huge grin pulls across both of your faces. no words are said, you just get each other. with a little nod, you guys both go out to cause havok

loves seeing funny things happen to people, but youre a funny person who fits his sense of humor so he likes seeing you

when you two do duo activities, youre usually the distraction and hes the one engineering everything to get things moving

loves your tail, i think at this point i might just headcannon that jax fidgets with things because i mention the idea in the ballerina post as well as the princess one

what im trying to say is is that hes probably going to fidget with your tail, if you have one

thinks its kind of unfair that you get cool abilities, no one else really has any; i mean zooble has their detachable thing, and everyone can handle a lot of damage, but thats basic cartoon physics, you actually have a power

...you guys may not use your unique abilities to troll caine...

caine will no longer be immune to the antics

"this is why i love you" after you come up with a brilliant idea to annoy the others (can be read as platonic or romantic)

[fromrory]

Final Lap !

POV: FemJournalist!Reader Pairing: F1 Driver!Percy Jackson x Journalist!Fem Reader Genre: Humor | Fluff | Romance | Tension | Slow Burn | Flirting | Suggestive Comments Word Count: ~3000 words Tag list: @simpingmyassoff , @shootingstargirl2001,@yintous (if you want to be added,comment below! !) Warning:English isn't my first lenguage,enjoy ! ! !

I. On the Starting Grid

Interviewing Percy Jackson was like trying to stay calm while a Formula 1 car sped past you at 300 km/h.

Inevitably, you'd get distracted.

Because Percy wasn’t just a talented driver—he also had that carefree boyish smile that made any professional question feel absurd.

And you, as a sports journalist, had to stay professional.

“Well, Percy, it’s been a pretty intense season so far…” you begin, holding the mic firmly, ignoring how his green eyes lock onto yours with a disarming intensity.

He tilts his head with that ever-confident expression.

“Intense in what sense? Competitive, or the part where I almost died in turn 3 last week?”

You’re usually good at keeping your cool during interviews, but Percy Jackson tests your limits every time.

“I’d say both.” You smile, trying not to play into his game.

“Ah, then yeah. Pretty intense.”

The mechanics and other reporters around him are used to his humor, but you notice something else in his tone. Something playful. Like he’s more interested in your reaction than in the question itself.

“Now that we’re halfway through the season,” you continue, regaining control, “a lot of people are wondering if you plan to renew with your team next year.”

Percy leans his forearms on the pit wall and gives you a slow smile, like he knows something you don’t.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether you’ll interview me again soon.”

The cameras are still rolling. His mechanics exchange glances. You feel a sudden heat creep up your face.

“Percy…”

He shrugs, unbothered.

“What? It’s a serious question.”

Your producer signals you to keep going, and you force yourself to get it together.

Percy Jackson was a problem.

One with a helmet, a Formula 1 car, and an impressive talent for getting inside your head.

II. Yellow Flag

The problem with Percy Jackson was that he didn’t know when to stop flirting.

From the first time you interviewed him, it became a kind of running joke in the paddock. His answers always included some offhand comment directed at you, and his teammates—pretty much everyone in the paddock—had caught on.

“So, has he proposed yet, or is he still pretending he only wants interviews?” Annabeth Chase, a reporter from a rival network, asks while flipping through her notes.

You sigh.

“Don’t start.”

Annabeth raises an eyebrow.

“Why not? It’s fun watching him fail at flirting.”

You won’t say it out loud, but you don’t think he’s failing all that much.

Especially lately, every time Percy looks at you, there’s an annoying flutter in your stomach.

Annoying… and very, very dangerous.

III. DRS Zone

The next time you interview Percy, it’s after a chaotic race where he finished second. He’s drenched in sweat, hair tousled, and his race suit is unzipped halfway, revealing the top of his fireproof undershirt.

And you… well, you try to stay composed.

“Percy, after that nail-biting finish, do you think there’s anything you could’ve done differently to win?”

He runs a hand through his hair, never taking his eyes off you.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. I should’ve made a bet with you before the race.”

You blink.

“Excuse me?”

Percy grins, clearly enjoying your confusion.

“Yeah, something like: ‘If I make the podium, you owe me dinner.’”

The crowd around you reacts with laughter and murmurs.

You try to come up with something professional to say, but Percy’s already won.

“I think that would violate journalism’s impartiality rules…” you finally say, knowing full well it’s a weak excuse.

Percy doesn’t flinch.

“Then let’s call it a ‘work meeting.’”

Mechanics and journalists around you laugh, and you know this moment will hit social media before you even process it.

Percy Jackson was a problem.

And worst of all, you were starting not to want a solution.

IV. Final Lap

The season’s nearly over. Percy is fighting for the championship.

And you… well, you’re still in denial.

Until Annabeth shows you a video on Twitter.

It’s a clip of Percy, just before a race, when a reporter asks if he has a lucky charm.

“I don’t carry anything special,” he replies. “Although…” He pauses for a second and smiles. “Lately I seem to do well when a certain journalist is on the grid.”

The comments are full of theories and speculation.

And you know Percy Jackson is playing with fire.

Or with you.

Or both.

That night, when you check your phone, there’s a new message.

Percy Jackson: So? Have you thought about the dinner?

You close your eyes and sigh.

Percy Jackson was definitely a problem.

But maybe…

Just maybe…

He was the kind of problem you didn’t want to escape from.

Do y'all want a second part of it? I was thinking about it but idk honestly LOL

[slushnubwrites]

Room Secrets

Tw: Smut/Sexual content

(Hii this is my first tumblr post/writing I hope whoever reads this enjoys. I thought this man was toooo fine, and needed more stories, if there are any spelling mistakes I am sorry english is not my first language. I also appreciate feedback just please don't be mean!!)

Kwon Jae-Sun, ever since my team Miyagi do & I got to the Sekai Taikai he was a prick. He was Cobra Kai's captain so of course he'd be an ass. Any chance to try and start a fight he'd take it, any chance for a snarky remark he'd take it, he was an asshole, and to piss me off more he'd make flirtatious comments, and send me winks here and there, but I never took him seriously. I hated him, hated his team, hated how he fought, hated how he always had a stupid smirk on his face, hated his attractive accent, hated how his hair was cute, spiky, and perfectly framed his face. I hated his face, his really good looking face that was hard to look away from. I hated him, but it was hard to deny, and say that he wasn't hot cuz God was he hot.

After all teams had been announced they told us to gather at the aquarium for something like a "field trip" so we'd all get to know each other and make "friends". Did they think that would actually work when all we want is to rip each other's heads off? It was so boring, but eventually everyone could depart. I'm walking around, and hear a couple of cheers and laughs, as i'm about to walk in, the crowd dies down, and people start walking out. I decided to wait for my team to walk out since everyone was leaving, and lucky me to see Kwon walk out and walk up to me.

"Hey princess if you need place to sleep feel free to come knock on my door now that I have your friend's room" he said it with a dumb grin on his face. "What are you talking about?" you asked annoyed and confused written all over your face. "Ask your loser teammates who can't kick" he starts walking away but right before that, he leans into your ear, you feel his breath on your cheek sending a shiver down your body as he whispers "and i'm not joking about the room sweetheart" you could hear the dumb smirk in his voice. "In your dreams" you say with a snarl, "every night" he whispers again, with that he walks off with a wink and smug look on his face. You start to picture some questionable images with what Kwon said, but you know you shouldn't, and quickly stop yourself, you bite your cheek and start looking for your friends.

You walk up to your defeated looking team in a small huddle. Robby looking the most disappointed and Miguel having an "I told you so" face. "Hello?? what happened, and why is Kwon walking out with your room keys??" You glare at each of them searching for an answer. Demetri speaks up "Robby here gambled our room over a stupid kicking competition". "I'm sorry okay!" Robby exclaimed defeatedly. "Okay well whatever happened get over it no distractions, you can stay in the girls room, just don't be idiots next time, c'mon" I tried to be positive but hated that now i'd have to share a room with four extra people.

It was time to sleep now after the guys brought in their things, found a way to fit themselves on the floor, and had an argument that made me want to kick their heads off. I lay awake in bed, I couldn't sleep, thoughts and nerves racing through my mind. There was something else though, I was trying my hardest to ignore it, my hardest to shake it out of my mind. That spiky hair, those bold black eyes, him in that compression shirt that hugged his figure. "Stop it" I thought to my self, it wasn't right to think about him like that, he was on the rival team, he was in Cobra Kai.

I get up and walk to the restroom, my eyes sting a bit from the brightness, I put cold water on my face trying to ignore every thought. I know I won't be able to sleep, and suddenly I remember something from earlier. "If you need a place to sleep feel free to come knock on my door". "No I can't do that" I thought to myself. Plus he was joking, then you remembered his words "and i'm not joking about the room sweetheart". No there's no way, he couldn't actually be serious...right? I mean we hated each other.

I hated myself for what I was doing, I knew this was wrong, I wanted to punch myself for this, but I couldn't get myself to stop or turn around, or even think right about what the hell I was doing. Maybe I should just go back to my room, but I was too close and tired to go back now. I'm standing in front of his door, or what I hoped was his since he won both. I prayed that I wouldn't embarrass myself more if his teammate was in this one.

I lightly knocked on the door, after a few seconds I convinced myself that maybe he or whoever was behind the door was asleep. Plus my fear was telling me that I should just go back, as I'm about to turn I hear the door knob move. I almost shit myself as the door opens, and there I see him, black sweats, red shirt, wet hair, God looking hot as ever. Water was dripping from his neck into his shirt sticking to his chest, and the water dripping down his veiny buff arms were not helping my imagination either, he honestly looked lick-able.

"I'm so stupid why am I here"?? I mentally yelled at myself. "Hey princess my bad I was getting out of shower when you knocked". "It's okay I was about to go back, I figured you were asleep since it's late" I say with a light smile. He returns a really faint smile saying " No, I practiced with Kreese for a few extra hours that's why". "Oh okay, well I should go, you must be tired, and I'm sorry if I bothered I just-". He cuts me off and with a smirk says "I wasn't joking when I said you could come to the room you know?, so don't worry. I am not tired, I train hard everyday, harder than your team could ever imagine". I scoff and roll my eyes, God he is always a cocky asshole, "okay well if you weren't joking I do need a place to sleep, I can't seem to shake any thoughts and nerves away". "Why princess you can't stop thinking of me"?, I scoff "Yeah you wish, now can I come in before somebody sees us".

"Yes ma'am" he says with a light chuckle opening the door wide enough for me to walk in, God I hated him, but I can't deny that made me feel something. I'm walking in and surprisingly it was really neat, I feel his eyes burn holes into my back as I keep walking. He closes the door and I hear it lock, I start feeling nervous, it gets quiet, but not awkward. I walk to the bed on the right, I get on the side to the nightstand, and set my phone down. I turn to ask him a question, not realizing how close he was, our bodies basically pressing together. My breath hitches, we make eye contact and I instantly look away trying to remember what I was going to ask "Um s-so-" he leans in and I feel his breath on my face as he towers over me. "What's wrong are you nervous"? he smirks and whispers as if we're not the only ones in the room.

I try to keep my composure but it's so difficult when he's only a few inches away from my face. "N-no" God why'd I have to stutter, I mentally palm my face. I look up at him and he knows I'm nervous, I want to wipe that smirk off his dumb hot face, he starts talking "Okay well we should go to sleep" he starts to turn. I know I shouldn't, I know it's dumb, and we're rivals, but I couldn't help myself. We were here, alone, no one had to know so why not. I hated him, but I couldn't deny how attractive he was, and the things he made me feel.

Before he makes a full turn I grab the edge of his sweatpants and lightly pull him back, "wait". He looks at me with a blend of curiosity, and confusion on his face. "Is something wrong"? he asks. I slowly let go of his sweats "Um no I was just thinking that um, I don't know uh" I was trying to get the confidence to say it but it was too hard to think with him staring at me waiting for my answer. "Whatever you need to say, say it" he says with a hint of concern. "Why'd you invite me to come here? I mean we've both been nothing but rude and snarky to each other. We basically hate each other" I say it with concern, and speed trying to get it all out without getting nervous.

He chuckles, and gets even closer to me, he grabs my chin making me look up at him, "I do not hate you, not one bit, yeah I like to mess with you, because it is cute to see you get all mad at me". I open my mouth to say something but he cuts me off "I invite you here because we can be alone, no senseis, no teams to bother us. Of course if you want to sleep then we will, and if you want something else we can do that too" that last sentence was laced with something else like he wanted me to pick the something else. I wanted it yes, but I was too afraid to say it, and yes we're alone, but part of me felt like I was betraying my team.

I ignored my thoughts, and quickly worked up a bit of courage "I want the something else" I whispered with not as much confidence as him, "okay, and what would that be"? he said it like a question, but I knew he knew. "Our senseis and teams would kill us you know"? I reminded him, but honestly I wasn't sure if I cared anymore. He moves his hand from my chin and cups my cheek "You think I care what they do? I've wanted you since I saw you walk in to the Sekai Taikai, I needed you since then". Hearing him say that made me snap, in that moment all my fear, and all thoughts about karate disappeared. "Kwon kiss me" I grip the collar of his shirt, and he grabs my hips with his other hands. Our lips clash, the kissing is slow at first, gentle, his lips are soft and I don't want to ever stop . Slowly we start to speed up, breathing is getting harder but neither of us wants to stop first. We pull apart for a second, our foreheads against each other's, we start to catch our breaths he looks at me and whispers "are you sure you want to do this?" "I'm sure".

With that we press our lips back together, he picks me up my legs wrap around his torso, I grab the back of his hair and tug a bit. He moans and slips his tongue in my mouth, he's holding both my legs with his arms and moves us to his bed. I'm now straddling him still playing with his hair, he moves his hands to the end of my shirt and slowly pulls it off of me. I move a bit back admiring him as he pulls off his red shirt. His biceps flexing as he pulls his shirt fully off of his head. I can feel him hard underneath his sweats, and I start to grind on him, I hear him groan as he starts unclipping my bra and helps me take it off. He flips us over and cups my cheek, he looks at me with a sweet, and hungry look in his eyes "you're so beautiful" he whispers to me and gives me a peck on the lips, he starts to kiss on my neck sending shivers down my body.

I had no idea what to say, he looked so good, and I wanted him to destroy me "thank you" he then stops and says "if you ever want to stop say it okay?" "okay I will". He starts to lick and kiss down my stomach, while making eye contact with me. I look away getting nervous. "Look at me, if you don't look I stop" his accent, the way he was looking at me God I could feel myself getting wetter. He licked right above where my underwear starts, Kwon grabs my legs opening them wider, and licks my pussy through my underwear. He chuckles "You're so wet I can taste it through your underwear", he comes back up and starts kissing me aggressively, I taste myself on his tongue. I feel him grind on me through my underwear, I want to feel more of him so I start tugging on his sweats signaling him to take them off. He starts kicking them off, and I return to running and tugging my fingers in his hair, I pull him closer, I feel his dick through his boxers, and it's lightly grinding on my throbbing clit through my underwear. "Fuck" is all I'm able to muster taking a quick second to breathe before he pushes his lips back onto mine. One of his hands plays with my nipple pinching and rolling it in a fast motion, while the other starts to pull my underwear down, I pick my hips up so he's able to fully slip them off.

We pull away to catch our breath, "P-please Kwon" I'm basically begging him he knew what I wanted, but he wasn't going to give it to me so soon. He's still rolling my hard nipple getting me wetter, I'm probably leaking on his bed, he starts sucking on my right boob and licking my nipple while looking into my eyes. All of a sudden I feel Kwon open my legs and he starts going down again, but not before he sucked on my left nipple, and rubbed on the other, it felt so good I picked my hips up grinding on him, "You are so cute, so needy". He pushed my hips down and started to kiss around my pussy sucking on my thighs, and then sucking on my pussy lips. "Mmm" I start to whine, "Kwon I need more please", "You'll get what you want princess be patient" I can feel him smirk into my pussy.

I'm about to whine again when I suddenly feel his tongue inside me. I gasp "oh my god Kwon", he starts to move his tongue in and out, "d-deeper please" I whine, and he does just that, I start to grind on his face while he's tongue fucking me. He starts hitting my g-spot and I can feel my legs start to tremble. Kwon pulls out his tongue and moves up to my clit he slowly starts to lick, and suck on it. I hear and feel him moan into my pussy, it sends a vibration through my body, he goes back to sucking on my clit, slowly teasing me when he knew what I wanted. "Look at me and tell me what you want", he then gets his two fingers and starts circling my pussy hole, I can feel his fingers playing with my wetness. "I-I want m-more, I want you to make me cum". His eyes turn dark and he smiles with a look of confidence, "Yes ma'am" he starts to slowly stick his two fingers in my hole, stretching me, it felt so good, I could feel my legs starting to shake again.

With his other hand he grips my thigh and widens it more "look at this pussy taking my fingers so well" he chuckles and starts to go faster curling his fingers, he then moves down bringing his tongue to my clit circling it. I feel him start to slowly suck on my clit while his fingers continue to abuse my hole, he's making eye contact with me as he continues to suck. I start to grind on his face, he starts to suck faster, my legs, are now on top of his shoulders, my legs start shaking, and a knot starts forming in my stomach. I can feel him smirk while he sucks, and I can't help but squeeze his head with my thighs. That doesn't make him stop as he starts to finger me harder, he's groaning into my pussy, the knot in my stomach only growing stronger.

I open my legs again, Kwon pulls his face away from my clit, switching his gaze between my eyes and my pussy. I'm grinding on his fingers as he starts going even faster, my pussy clenches on his fingers, and he knows that I'm close. My back starts arching, I can't control my body anymore, I'm shaking, I can barely form a sentence let alone a word. "K-kwon I'm so c-close oh my god" I feel so out of breath, and my voice is shaky I can't control myself. Kwon gets his other hand and grips my neck, the knot in my stomach almost snaps. "I know you are close, c'mon princess don't be shy". He curls his fingers adding a third, and going even faster, I moan so loud I pray these walls are sound proof. "HOLY SHIT" my whole body starts shaking and Kwon is still gripping my neck forcing me to keep my eyes on his, he shows no signs of stopping.

I feel the knot in my stomach snap, it all feels so good, I start seeing stars, my legs are shaking, I try my hardest to calm down, but it's all so much and Kwon is still going. "I'm not stopping till you let it all out" he pulls me in and starts kissing me. I try to kiss back but he's winning and I can barely move my lips, the kiss is sloppy and heated. He hasn't stopped his fingers, and I keep moaning, I feel another release as he lets go of my neck and starts rubbing circles on my clit. I feel myself finishing again but this time it's messier as I'm squirting and all my juices are landing all over his stomach, all on his arm. Part of me was embarrassed and wanted to stop but it felt too good, and I could tell Kwon was really enjoying this. I feel the shaking start to slow down, my breathing slowly going back to normal. Kwon starts to pull his fingers out, and gives me a light kiss, he then gives me a small smile and asks "are you okay?". I slowly catch my breath and return a smile "I've never been better", he gets up and goes to the bathroom getting a towel so we could both get cleaned up.

When he returns we start to clean, and I put my pjs back on with his help, as I'm about to walk to the other bed he stops me by picking me up. He carries me to the other bed even tho it was only like 3 feet away. I simply laugh as he sets me down, and hands me a bottle of water, "It is a good thing I beat your friends and got the extra room so we could have this bed to sleep in". I laugh and roll my eyes "I guess it was", we both start to get cozy and settle under the covers, I use his arm as my pillow. Before going to sleep and turning the lights off we talk for a bit, both our voices start to get low, and we could feel the sleepiness taking over. "If our teams ever find out we're dead" I told him followed by a yawn. "I know, but I do not care" said with a hint of seriousness and playful tone. Before deciding it's time to sleep you look at him and say "goodnight Kwon, and good luck tomorrow cuz I'm kicking your ass, you better not go easy on me" you give him a light smile as you start to settle and close your eyes.

As you feel yourself fading into your sleep you hear Kwon give a light chuckle and reply "Goodnight princess, you too" he gives you a small kiss on the forehead, and with that turns the light off.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 185 (Pearl in the City)

At the age of nine, Pearl Richards received placeholder admission to the San My Ballet Company - the professional arm of the ballet school she'd attended since she was five years old. Most dancers who entered the company as Junior Students needed to audition, but Pearl was a prodigy. She'd already been getting special mentorship from several of the older students for years.

The San My Ballet Company knew they'd lose her to another somewhere else if they didn't hold a place for her, but Pearl didn't take it for granted. Every day since she received her offer of admission, she practiced at every possible opportunity to be sure she was ready when she turned thirteen.

Whether practicing in the performing arts centre's dingy old basement, the updated school studio, or her bedroom, Pearl never stopped dancing. If her mother or grandmother asked her to help with dinner, she inevitably ended up practicing her moves in the hallway. She was so consistent, her father and brother couldn't resist teasing her from time to time.

"Look at us? We're ballerinas, too!" Darrell said, cackling as he and Gavin moved decidedly unlike ballerinas while she tuned them out. She practiced her "stage face" as often as her moves.

She was fairly skilled at ignoring Darrell when he'd try to distract her from her combinations by peppering her with questions.

"Pearl, did you want to hear a joke? What's a ballerina's favourite day of the year? February 2nd because it's 2/2! What do you think would happen if you stopped dancing for five minutes? How do you stand on your toes after you broke two last year?"

Eventually, his game of questions always wore thin. "Mom! Dad! Darrell's being annoying!" she would yell, and they'd come in to find him something else to do.

Pearl, of course, could see no future but one in which spotlights illuminated her as she moved across the biggest stages in the world. Her name would be synonymous with ballet far beyond San Myshuno, and sims would travel from far and wide to see her dance.

Dylan and Gavin were supportive of their daughter's talent and passion, but they also tried to steer her toward other interests. They knew ballet was a small and competitive industry rife with injuries, and they wanted to prepare their daughter for any possible outcome as she chased her dreams.

When she wasn't at school or practicing ballet, she was often volunteering her time down at the Soup Kitchen. Now that she was almost thirteen, she spent less time with the kids at the shelter and more time helping with chores to keep the place running smoothly.

But while Gavin coached Darrell on the basketball court in the yard, disinterested Pearl usually found herself practicing her dance moves.

The family had surprising news when Dylan learned she was expecting a third child. Darrell was already ten years old; she and Gavin had thought they were past the diaper stage. But they welcomed the news with the encouragement of Dylan's mother, Susan, who lived in the spare bedroom of their apartment.

The tiny place they'd lived in when Pearl and Darrell were younger was a dive they quickly outgrew, but even though they now had a much bigger place in a well-kept historical building in the Arts Quarter, everyone was a little bit worried about adding a needy infant to the family's fairly organized chaos.

After her closest friend, Ash Landgraab, moved back to Brindleton Bay following the death of his grandfather, Dylan caught Pearl frowning before dinner. "Mrs. Landgraab said you asked about Ash at the studio today. Do you miss him?"

"I don't miss him that much," she argued. "But he used to come to the shelter with me and no one else wants to help."

"None of the other kids at school want to volunteer with you?"

"No. Cristal and Noemi Zest said they'd come before Ash moved back, but now they're too busy with all their dogs and the dancer they're hosting for the Company."

"That's the boy from Evergreen Harbour, isn't it? Charlie Wise?"

She nodded. "I haven't met him yet."

Dylan forced a smile, hoping her daughter might catch it. "Well, you will soon. And you'll see Ash again. He'll be back to visit the Landgraabs before too long."

"It's not about Ash, Mom!" She rolled her eyes. "I know I'll see him again."

Dylan let her moody daughter have a moment to herself, heading to the kitchen to help Susan get dinner on the table.

The arrival of her baby sister, Felicia, led to a joyous but hectic few months in the Richards household, which meant a quiet birthday celebration at home when Pearl became a teenager.

Susan made three matcha tea cakes for her health conscious, dance machine granddaughter (because she took a slice of the first and Darrell took a slice of the second before Pearl could blow out the candles, to my utter delight 🙃), and Pearl aged up with her family cheering her on.

Pearl grew into a beautiful teen ballerina with drive to spare, and she set her focus on her dreams for the future with the full support of her loving family. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

NOTE: If you read on Wednesday that Pearl still needed to audition because I was supposed to change that line before it posted (I changed it roughly an hour or so after it was posted!), know that I considered having her audition but ultimately decided there was no suspense to it because I've been talking for ages about what a prodigy she is. I was always going to give Pearl the professional ballet career from @janesimsten's Ballet mod! Now that she's in high school full-time, she also spends evenings at her new job. That's dedication!

NOTE 2: Shout out to @changingplumbob for approving the appearance of Natasha Lobo (originally created by @bloomingkyras) as Pearl's older student mentor in the opening photos. I love Natasha, so thank you for letting me keep her canon to my sims' timeline, too! And we have a reappearance of the spa/studio Barre Raized by @oimygiblets, which is such a great build! Thank you for creating pixel people and pixel boxes I can play with!

NOTE 3: Felicia Richards is the first baby born in my game's latest boom, by the way. First of many to come, including both Pleasant twins! But who else?? 🤔