#but i never took him seriously because he was fucking loaded

[bratzforchris]

Make It Better

Summary: Matt's home sick and bored. What happens when you walk in on him doing pushups instead of resting?

Pairing: Matt x feminine reader

Warnings: Fluffy smut, making out while sick, vanilla sex, cowgirl, handjob, p in v, needy/pouty bottom!Matt (mostly just a short/sweet/silly smut<3)

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: There's something about Matt in this video that is just so! Fuckable! In all seriousness though, this is fiction. Maybe don't go around fucking people with COVID...Enjoy!!!

You sighed as you stirred the pot of chicken noodle soup that was currently simmering on the stove. Both Matt and Nick were home sick with COVID, and by extension, so were you and Chris. Despite knowing that you should be making Matt quarantine, you hadn’t done very well with being apart from your boy. Not only did your heart long to care for him, but Matt was a bit…whiny when he was sick. You found it rather endearing, the way he would whine and grab for things, and the way he would absolutely beg you to lay with him and cuddle him until he felt better. He claimed that the snuggles and you scratching his scalp softly with your acrylic nails was better than any amount of Dayquil. 

Just because Matt was your boyfriend wouldn’t stop you from caring for the other two triplets, though. You quickly turned off the stove and divided the soup into three bowls, placing them on a tray and starting the trek throughout the house to deliver the food to your boys. Your first stop was Chris’ room in the basement. You felt rather bad for the youngest triplet; he had never liked sleeping or even being alone, and now he was basically holed up in his room all by himself for days. 

“Knock knock!” You said cheerfully, announcing your arrival at his bedroom door. 

Chris opened his door a few moments later, looking bleary-eyed with messy hair. “Y/N?”

“I brought soup!” You explained happily. 

“I’m not the sick one,” Chris chuckled. “But thank you.”

You and Chris continued to chat for a few moments, with you making sure you kept your distance since you had been around Matt, before you spoke. “Well, I guess I should go finish playing DoorDash and make sure the toddler is alright.”

“The toddler?”

“Someone's rather whiny when he’s sick.” You snorted. 

Chris laughed as well, knowing exactly who you were referencing. After bidding the youngest triplet goodbye, you picked up your tray and headed to Nick’s room. Seeing as how the oldest was still contagious, you shot him a quick text to let him know that his food was outside. Finally, you made your way to your and Matt’s shared room with one bowl of soup left. Pushing open the door, you were met with a sight that you were not expecting at all. Matt was on the ground doing push ups, still in pajamas and vlogging the whole thing. 

“Matt!” you exclaimed, setting his bowl down on his desk. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I’m bored,” Your boy whined, sitting up and leaning against the wall. “And I need physical activity.”

“Baby, you’re sick. You need to be resting.” You said, rolling your eyes playfully and offering him your hand to stand up. 

“I took less than 100 steps yesterday. That’s sickening–” Matt groaned, being cut off by a barking cough as you helped him lay down once more. 

You pulled your boyfriend into your chest as you laid down beside him, running your nails through his fluffy, brown hair. Matt let out a content little sigh, curling into your chest and sniffling. He was rather feverish, but he was already doing loads better than he had been yesterday. At this point, he was mostly just bored and eager to do something other than watch movies, play Fortnite, and sleep, despite his pounding headache. 

You looked down at the boy resting on your chest as Matt snuck his hand between your thighs. “What are you doing?” You asked, raising a brow. 

“Nothing,” Matt said with faux innocence, blinking his glassy, blue eyes at you. “Jus’ getting comfy.”

“You need your hand between my thighs to be comfortable?”

“Mhm.” 

You rolled your eyes, pressing a kiss to the brunette’s head. “You know you’re not a good liar, sweetheart.”

Matt groaned softly, scooting his hips closer to your own as he began to rub soft circles over the fabric that covered your pussy. “‘M bored and I need that physical activity I mentioned earlier.” 

“You’re also sick. When was the last time you brushed your teeth and showered?”

Matt huffed cutely, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling with his arms crossed. “You’re being mean.”

Before he could speak again, you turned and pressed a kiss to Matt’s plump, pink lips. The boy moaned softly into the kiss, allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth, making out with him as you moved yourself to straddle his waist. 

“You’re gonna get sick.” Matt whined softly, making no move to push you off. 

“I don’t care.” You replied in a cliché manner, a dopey smile on your face as you pulled back to look at him. 

Matt let out a soft grunt, rutting his hips up to meet your own. “I need you,” he whimpered, already arching his back against the pillows even though you hadn’t really done anything. “Gonna make me feel better.”

“You’re so whiny when you’re sick.” You tsked, running your hands along the soft skin of his abdomen to pull his white pajama shirt up and over his head.

“I am not.” he sniffled, voice gravelly from the congestion. 

“Are so.” You hummed back teasingly, leaving soft kisses on his warm tummy. 

You could feel Matt’s cock hardening beneath you, making him blush and whine as he tugged at your leggings.You pressed soft kisses to the brunette’s chest and stomach as you tugged his pajama bottoms off, smirking at the way he was already hard for you, pretty pink tip glistening with precum. Matt moaned softly as he blushed harder, letting out little coughs and sniffles as he futilely attempted to cover himself. 

“Ah ah,” You chuckled, batting his hands away. “What happened to all that ‘I need physical activity’ from earlier?” You said, pulling off your shirt and bra. 

“You’re a bully.” Matt grumbled, hissing from the combination of the way you began to stroke his cock and the sight of your now bare tits bouncing in his face as you got yourself worked up on his thigh.  

You broke the connection for a moment to slide off your leggings and already soaked panties. You continued to palm your boyfriend's cock, leaving him whimpering and moaning as you reached into the nightstand and retrieved a condom. 

“Are you sure you feel okay? We don’t have to.” You assured Matt, brushing some of the messy hair off of his forehead as he sneezed.

“I want to. It’ll make me feel better.” Matt pouted, thrusting his dick into your hand, desperate to chase his orgasm. 

“So needy.” You shook your head with a laugh, ripping open the condom and replacing your hand with the rubber on his throbbing cock. 

Your boyfriend hissed as you slid onto him, the feeling of your cunt clenching against him making him whimper. You began to ride Matt slowly, allowing his aching, feverish joints to get used to the feeling of you being on top. It was clear that illness or not, the brunette was beyond needy. He loved the feeling of you being in charge, telling him what to do and calling him a pretty boy. He was, by definition, your pillow princess, and he wouldn’t want it any other way. 

“I thought this was supposed to be physical activity for you.” You panted with a small giggle as you began to speed up your rhythm. 

Matt had a lazy, sleepy smile on his face as you rode him, every now and then letting out little whimpers and moans. “My heart rate elevates every time I look at you.” he smiled cheesily and then hissed when you hit a particularly good angle, brown, feathery curls fanning out against the silken pillow cases as he arched his back. 

Your lower stomach began to clench with the need to orgasm at your boyfriend's sensual noises. The added gravel to his voice from the sickness was just turning you on more, making you grip Matt’s shoulders shakily. 

“I’m…gonna cum.” You groaned, your pussy clenching as Matt whimpered again. 

Matt nodded, letting out loud, sexual noises as you rode him harder than you had previously. “Want you to cum with me.” he pouted, looking up at you through his lashes. 

You two really didn’t have a chance to say anything else as both of your climaxes overtook you. In spite of his incredibly sore throat, Matt was practically screaming your name as your orgasm clenched against his dick, making him fill the condom quickly. By the time you had regained your senses, your boyfriend had softened inside of you. You slid off of Matt easily, helping him pull the condom off and dispose of it in the trash can beside the bed. 

“Was that enough physical activity for you?” You asked with a sly chuckle, kissing his cheek softly. 

Matt nodded sleepily, coughing into his arm roughly. “I feel so much better now.” he said with a watery grin. 

“Do you?” You asked skeptically. 

“...well no, but now I’m content and no longer bored.” the brunette informed you matter-of-factly, his bratty, subby side still showing despite the fact that you were no longer fucking. 

“So you aren’t going to complain about sleeping and taking medicine, right?” You murmured, grabbing a pack of baby wipes off the nightstand and wiping both yourself and Matt down. 

“Medicine tastes like ass and I’ve slept so much in the past two days.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, pulling the comforter over the both of you until you shot up, just now remembering the bowl on Matt’s desk. “Fuck. Your soup’s gone cold.”

“You bought me soup?” Matt cocked his head and blew his nose, unaware that you had ‘left’ the house. 

“I made it. I made you homemade chicken noodle soup and forgot about it because you jumped my bones.” You joked. 

“You didn’t stop me,” Matt pointed out, another chesty cough escaping his mouth. “But if the soup’s already cold…round two?”

“Matthew.”

tags ♡:  @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

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[lightaflaem]

𝐩𝐨𝐯: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭.

pairing: tattoo artist!suna x f!reader

genre: semi-angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, suggestive

word count: 5.1k

content warnings: profanities, suggestive themes, mentions of needles, sticks, poking, sharp objects, blood, mentions of abuse, scars, violence, trauma, addiction

summary: after countless attempts to convince your tattoo artist college friend, suna rintaro, to do your body art, you couldn’t understand why he keeps on rejecting you. not until he told and showed you the real reason why.

“Is this the chair where your clients sit to get their tattoos done?” you asked, pointing at the leather chair in front of you.

“Yeah, where else do you think I got it done?” Suna answered, not removing his eyes from the patterned tape he’s been wrapping on the grip on the gun.

“So, when are you going to do mine?” you hopped on the leather material, arm resting on the extended side as you clean your antecubital area with your other free hand. It’s obviously not set for your height as you tried making yourself comfortable on the depthness of the chair.

“Very funny, Y/N. Now get off that chair and help me set these up. There's small sized gloves under the cabinet beside that chair, wear those before touching anything.” he ordered, not giving a single fuck about your question. Rolling your eyes, you stood up and started searching for the gloves in the compartment.

“Why won’t you do my tatts?”

“‘Cause you're my friend.”

“Seriously, Rintaro? You have favoritism.”

“Seriously, Y/N. I don’t have favoritism and I don’t do tatts for my friends because I already know them. My brain becomes a mush when it comes to thinking of designs when I already know the person.”

Your jaw dropped at his answer. You don’t buy it. Seriously, what the fuck is he playing with? Irked, you intentionally wore the pair of latex with much more force, making it slap against your wrist hard enough to leave marks. You placed a sterile mat on the stainless surface of the table, aligning the vaseline-coated small cups horizontally and started loading it up with black and red inks.

“You’d make a great apprentice.” he commented as he watched you do the preparations the same way he does it before every session. Each and every step was done with fragility, just like how you retained his routine by watching him do the same thing for the past few years of being with him.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to get a red tattoo,” you spoke as you continued filling the cups. “It’s sexy and I think I’ll look hot in it.”

“But you always look hot, with or without that red ink.” Suna said casually, making your heartbeat accelerate but you didn’t let it get into you because he probably said it to his clients most of the time.

“I know right. That’s why when my college friend became a tattoo artist, the force of getting it done doubled up. Specifically by him.” you know that you didn’t fail to emphasize how badly you wanted to get your body art done by him but maybe for him, he saw it as nothing but a mere compliment for his works.

Who would have thought that the quiet kid from one of your elective classes way back in college a few years ago who subsequently also became your close friend because of a mutual friend, the Miya twins, who were your classmates since you’re in elementary school, will become a famous tattoo artist specializing in line arts, minimalism, and patchworks.

Suna also probably never saw that his future will be like this. From just surviving everyday to a big time personality of inks and needles. With the freedom and peace he gained from following his calling, he also took a leap of faith to change his physical appearance from cropping his hair shorter, both arms, chest, and neck full of patchwork of random tattoos, and his signature snake bites that captivated the hearts of his crowd.

He never liked fame, though. He always hides whenever he’s got the chance to escape from paparazzi and respectfully declines the clients he doesn't want to work with and cannot work with. He's hard to get. That makes him more fascinating in the eyes of others. It’s like he’s hidden behind those inks and it will take thousands of needles to uncover. He’s surely one of a kind.

His skill in generating different designs specifically for each client is no joke. A lot of local and international artists and internet personalities are hitting up his instagram direct messages, asking for his details of booking. You vividly remember one of his interviews wherein he was asked if he ever recycled a design for different clients and what makes him unique from other tattoo artists. He answered“Each client has their own blueprint depending on their cup of tea. That’s what makes me unique from other artists. I created my own scheme and let it align on my client’s skin like it’s running out of breath and ink’s the only thing it needed to satisfy its hunger.”

He’s distinct. He’s consistent. He’s a genius.

But why the hell wouldn't he do your tattoo?

“You're an ink virgin, right? Why do you want to get your tattoo done by me so much?” With much curiosity, Suna leaned against the chair, arms crossing against his chest as his eyes squeezed, waiting to scrutinize your answer.

“Why not? It’s because it’s you.” you simply answered back, finally capping the bottle of ink. In your peripheral vision, you saw how Suna’s eyes dilated but still kept his unpleasant posture. “But if you don’t want to ink my body then it’s fine with me. I’ve been pestering you about it since you started and it’s been a few years. I’m not getting any younger, that's why I wanted to at least get my first tattoo before I turn 27.”

Taken aback by your statement, Suna stayed quiet for a few seconds. Finished with your extra lending hands with his set up, you threw the pair of gloves into the yellow trash bag and finally faced the 6 '1 guy. Suna’s lips were pursed before he licked the lower part, tasting the cold metal of his lip piercing.

“Where do you want to get your first tatts?” he questioned as his gaze started lingering on your bare skin.

“I don’t know, do you have a preferred part?” you threw back, not having a single clue on where you wanted to get your first one.

Removing himself from the chair, he took a step forward, slowly making his way towards you. You weren’t sure why but your feet felt like it was glued on the ground. The vision started to get blurry, almost feeling dizzy but you found your vision focusing more on Suna, who’s already in front of you with a small curve of smile written on his face.

“If you ask me where,” he lifted his hand, letting his delicate fingers glide from your shoulder up to your collarbone that sent shivers to your spine. “I prefer it to be somewhere where others can’t see it. Somewhere where I’m the only one who can see it. Somewhere exclusive only for me.” he smirked and pulled himself away from you. “Kidding. Your body, your rules.”

His touch left your skin yet you could still feel his cold fingertips against yours. You felt your breathing stopped as you held it the whole moment he was in front of you and whispered those words to you. Damn you, Suna. He surely knew how to shake your whole existence in a few words.

“I’ll be going away for three days. I’ll go to Tokyo to attend a tattoo convention.” he spoke, not letting his gaze wander to anywhere except you. “If you happen to finally be decisive about the placement before I get back, I’ll do your tatts. In exchange, I’ll tell and show you something.” 

You grinned, finally hitting the jackpot. Bingo.

“Deal. I’ll see you in three days.” 

Suna let out a small chuckle when he saw how happy your eyes were. Silly, he thought. Who knew that a single tattoo could mean the world to a 25-year-old adult like you?

“Oh before I forget,” he suddenly remembered, turning to you once more. “Don’t worry. I’ll update for the next three days.”

“Holy shit, Rintaro finally agreed to do yer tatts?!” Atsumu exclaimed, almost flipping the table.

“Shut your mouth, you’re spitting the best burger in Hyogo all over the place!” His twin brother, Osamu snarked at him.

Despite graduating from college and living your lives separately, one becoming a professional volleyball player for Japan, the other opening his own onigiri business, and you having your own clothing line, you couldn’t ignore the fact that the Miya twins literally have a special place in your heart. So here you are, sitting across them in a fast food chain with burgers and fries stuffed in your mouth as you continued catching up with each other’s lives after a few months of not seeing each other.

The twins know how much you wanted to get your first tattoo from Rintaro. Giving all their best shots and trying everything within their might, they still cannot lure their old mate into the trap. They were always shut down by Suna, especially Atsumu since he’s the one who’s been doing all of the talking and bargaining because apparently, he’s got a big mouth according to their fox-eyed friend.

They even went as far as recruiting the innocent Sakusa Kiyoomi, also one of their tattoo artist friends who recently opened his shop to blackmail Suna into inking your body; however, the latter just scoffed at their failed idea and told them to try harder again next time. With that, Atsumu shouldered Sakusa’s business permit expenses as a “payment” for pestering him.

“I mean, I’m also surprised, ‘yah know? It took me years to persuade him and now I just have to decide for the placement. But I would love to get it in red ink, though.” you shared your thoughts as you sipped from your diet cola.

“Did you already have a placement in your mind? Maybe your shoulders?” Osamu pointed at your exposed skin from wearing a tank top.

You just shrugged because honestly, you haven’t given it much thought yet. “I have an idea. But Rin told me that he prefers to do it somewhere exclusive only for him.” 

Atsumu bursted out, laughing his whole ass off that earned a few stares from the people around you. You and Osamu were puzzled, giving him a tyrannical look.

“Fucking hell, man. I am so proud,” he said between his laughs. “Rinrin has grown into a man! He’s got balls, Y/N! He finally got the dick, Samu!”

The rest of the night went well as you guys hit karaoke and arcade after dinner just like the old days. If it wasn’t for Atsumu’s official schedule the following day, the three of you plan to invite Suna for a drink because he’s finally returning back tonight from his 3-day tattoo convention in Tokyo. 

He kept his word on updating you. The very first thing that you saw when you opened your eyes on his first day in Tokyo was a ‘good morning’ text, followed by a mirror picture of him wearing a featured shirt from your summer collection. You blushed at the fact that he’s wearing your own creation even though he’s very supportive of it since the very start. He looked really good in your design.You told him that he doesn’t need to update you that much but his response was ‘Na uh. I’ll still update you so hurry up and think about where you wanted to get it, Ma’am.’. You knew that it was just a polite term yet, it’s enough to make your knees feel weak. But you were quick enough to shake the thoughts off, thinking that it’s just a friendly term to address his future client.

As the darkness engulfed the sky, the twins dropped you off in front of your apartment and bid them goodbye. It’s already 9 in the evening and you wonder if Suna’s already back in Hyogo because your message was left delivered and you haven’t received a single text from him since this afternoon.

As if on cue, your phone buzzed, flashing Suna’s contact photo on the screen.

Rintaro is calling…

“Yo.” you answered, unlocking the door of your unit.

“Ma’am? Did you just get home?” his raspy voice boomed on the other line of the phone. You never knew how much you longed for his presence, not until you heard his voice again for the first time in 3 days.

“Yup. We went to karaoke and arcade after dinner. We’re supposed to invite you for drinks but Tsumu’s got an official sched tomorrow.” you paused, kicking your shoe on the rack. “How about you? Did you just get home?”

“Yeah. Just got here and the first thing I did was to call you after fully charging my phone. It’s been dead since afternoon because I lost my charger. M’sorry for not messaging you.” you don’t know if you’re just a little bit tired from earlier but you could sense the hidden craving behind his voice.

“It’s okay, Rin. It’s no big deal,” you assured, as it was really not a big deal for you. “So, about the offer.”

You heard him clicking his tongue, followed by a soft chuckle. “Have you thought where you wanted to get your first ones, Ma’am?”

“Mhm. You wanna know where?” 

“Surprise me.”

It made you giggle like a highschool kid talking to her crush for the first time. Suna is really good with his words. On the other line, Suna was leaning his head against his black bed frame, unintentionally scratching his bare chest as he’s not used to wearing a top inside his house and saw it. He took a deep breath before biting his lower lip to surpass the fact that he’s thrilled with the thought of him finally marking your skin.

“Where do you want to get it done? It can be in my studio but I can also do home service, exclusive only for you.”

“I want to get it done in the studio. I wanted to experience sitting in your leather chair as a client, Sir.”

Damn. Something ignited inside Suna when he heard you calling Sir, right back when he started calling you Ma’am. It’s like a switch being flipped on. Composing his mind and shaking any thoughts, he nodded as if you’re seeing him right now.

“Alright then. We’ll start tomorrow at nine in the morning. Make sure to get enough sleep, eat breakfast and drink water. I’ll brief you tomorrow once we’re there, Ma’am. Remember that in exchange, I’ll tell and show you something.” he reminded, knowing that you don’t like going to bed early.

“Wow, your customer service is top tier.” you commended as your mind started intensifying with the thought of finally doing it tomorrow.

“Exclusive only for you, Ma’am.” he reminded once again, trying to hint you up.

“Okay, Sir. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you. Good night, Y/N.”

Fuck. It’s not the first time Suna has said that to you but your insides are rumbling. You felt your blood rushing as your vital organ increased the pumping because anytime now, you could feel suffocated from the excitement. Calm down. Calm down.

“Good night, Rin.”

With that, he let you hang up the call. Later that night, you tried your best to get a good night's sleep yet in your fantasy, you still feel like you’re sleep calling with Suna. You couldn’t take your mind off with his words earlier. He’s going to tell and show you something? Still trying to squeeze every cell of your brain, you cannot pulp any idea on what it’s going to be.

You just hope it’s nothing serious because it’s actually scary, the thought of him being dead serious on something. You shrugged off any negative thoughts and wished that it's nothing because you wouldn’t be able to grasp if it’s going to significantly impact your life in a pessimistic way. You might lose your shit because you know that you’re clearly, madly, deeply attached to Suna Rintaro.

“So this is how it feels like to sit right here.” you spoke with awe as you comfortably aligned yourself with the chair’s depth. It was adjusted perfectly for your height.

Suna grinned, setting up the materials on the stainless table beside you. You offered to help but he quickly declined it, reasoning that you’re here as a client today, not as his self-labeled apprentice.

Despite being here lots of time already, it felt like this was the first time you’ve seen his studio. The details you didn’t notice before suddenly popped in your vision, such as the fern green wallpaper and plants that he’s been watering regularly. On the outside, it looks like Suna’s more of a monochrome guy but in reality, he adores green so much because according to him, it brings the dull color into life. For him, it feels like life.

You also noticed the usual well-lit led ceiling lights wrapped around the four corners of his studio are now dimly-lit as well as the aroma of lavender mint from his scented candles that he ignited for the first time since he got it lingering probably to cover up the smell of blood, dead skin, and ink. Oh, and there’s also an inspired portrait of his favorite characters from his favorite movies drawn in his own artstyle framed and hung on the walls. His usual arctic monkeys and heavy metal playlist was replaced with some 88rising, r&b, and keshi which are you favorite artists and genre at the moment,

You never took your time to appreciate Suna’s studio this much until now. 

“Okay Ma’am, show me where you wanted it to be placed.” he asked, almost ordering you. Taking a deep inhale, you were surely nervous as heck right now but you already made your mind. Somewhere where he’s the only one who can see it. Somewhere exclusive only for him, huh?

You slowly lifted your white shirt, revealing your red lace bralette that perfectly hugged your breasts. You specifically chose this outfit for this occasion. Swallowing a lump, you pointed at your waist up to the side of your right boob, passing it and nearly up to your armpit. “Here. I wanted to get it here.”

Suna was quiet the whole time yet his widened foxy eyes tell you otherwise. He’s speechless. His eyes were fixated on you, admiring the view which he saw for the first time. He knows that you’re sexy and elegant, but he didn’t expect that you’re this sexy. In his eyes, you are the most beautiful art he’s ever seen in his whole life. He fought the urge to hold you in your waist because he wanted to feel your skin against his.

“Tough spot. Damn Ma’am, you’re courageous.” he commented on your preference. You felt your cheeks heating up as embarrassment started creeping in because Suna hasn’t removed his gaze yet on your body. “Can I…touch it? I’ll just…assess it.”

You nodded, pressing your lips together as Suna’s gloved hand made its way to your body. He traced your torso up to your ribcage and he couldn’t help but to squeeze a small smile in between.

“Will it hurt?” you hesitantly asked.

“It will. But I’ll be gentle, I promise.” you almost choked on his answer because it gave you other ideas. “Now make yourself comfortable. Tell me if it hurts, we’ll take a break. I’ll do my best to make it painless but I cannot guarantee.”

You fixed your position on the inclined chair, making yourself at home on your left side but your torso was slightly flattened down, facing him to get a better access to the area, especially your sides up to your armpit. Suna sat down in the swivel stool and faced you from your left, maintaining his demeanor as he grabbed the stencil he prepared. You intentionally didn’t ask about the design he planned because you also wanted to surprise yourself with Suna's creativity. You wanted to astonish yourself and it pretty much tells how big your trust is when it comes to Suna.

Once he’s done with shaving the excess hair, the paper hits your side, tickling your skin as Suna’s gloved hand starts flattening it against your body. It was followed by the cold sensation of the adhesive washing the paper. His right pinky accidentally brushed against your boob, making you scream internally. In no time, he’s already removing the piece of paper, indicating that the stencil’s already in place.

Suna licked his lower lip and you noticed how he wore his usual snake bites differently today by swapping the horseshoe jewelry into a plain one. He pushed himself forward but still maintained the distance between the two of you. Reaching out for the tattoo gun, you’ve already had an idea how it sounded but when he tested it and made a whirring sound that buzzed on your ears, you found yourself clutching the hem of Suna’s shirt due to the tense building up inside your stomach.

“You alright, Y/N?” he asked, staring down at you. The whole point of view sent you to spiral as you never imagined yourself being under Suna.

“Yeah, sorry. I hope you don’t mind this.” you pointed at your hands curled into his shirt which earned him a few laughs. Suna thought that it was so fucking cute when look so small to him.

“You’re free to hold me wherever.” he smiled, caressing your exposed shoulder as a sign of assurance. “Remember that if it hurts too much, just tap out and we can take a break, Ma’am.”

Bobbing your head, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath as the sound of the gun reverberated once again. Suna started poking the needle against your skin. The first five minutes were much more uncomfortable rather than painful - almost feeling like a slow rug burn. However, as he moved upwards and started hitting the bones of your side ribs, it started feeling hell that you couldn’t help but small whimpers escaped from your mouth. It stings like crazy.

“Are you okay? We can take a break. Do you want some water?” Suna offered concern as he saw your forehead creased into an agonizing expression.

“N-no, just continue. I’ll eventually get used to it.” you declared, not wanting to raise your white flag.

Suna nodded and started working on it again. You could feel like he’s outlining something in more of a swivel way. You could also feel like there’s a lot of lines and shading going on. The next 30 minutes were spent with the two of you talking about college, reminiscing the memories you shared together as well as with the Miya twins. Another 30 minutes and he’s already wrapping up by taking one last wipe before applying the tattoo jelly on the area. 

“I thought that it will be painful as fuck,” you said truthfully. “You wrecked my expectations, Rin.” 

“Well, it’s an honor to be complimented by you. I told you, I’ll be gentle.” he winked, removing his gloves on his hands. “Congratulations, Y/N. You’re no longer a tattoo virgin.”

Laughters echoed in the room as he clapped at your achievement. He grabbed the mirror that was lying beside your chair and signaled you to sit up. Obeying him, you lifted yourself as you felt your skin being stretched.

“I hope you like my design, Y/N.” flipping the mirror, you saw your inked skin for the first time.

Your mouth parted, eyes filled with wonderstruck. 

There’s a lot of fine lines from the upper part of your side, down to your ribs, and finally your waist. The lines were broken yet some of them were connected with each other. In the middle, there’s multiple flowers drawn in outline, looking like they have bloomed together. You couldn’t elucidate the design in words yet your brain could tell how it looks and your heart could tell how it feels like to be inked distinctively.

You finally understood why they call Suna a genius. Because he’s the only one who has the ability to make you feel like you're abstract and he’s the only one who can understand you.

“Do you like it?” he asked, a little bit nervous as you stayed silent.

“Like?” you questioned. “I fucking love it, Rintarou. I love it so much that it made me speechless… Thank you. Wow…Seriously, thank you.”

You’re not kidding. You’re not exaggerating. You were at a loss for words because only the silence of appreciation could speak for right now on how you feel about the design.

Pleased, a genuine smile carved on Suna’s lips as he watched you beaming with joy on your first body art done by none other than him.

“Now in exchange, I want you to pop my shirt.” he cleared his throat, bringing the mirror down as he signaled you.. Your face was puzzled. Pop…his shirt? “Come here, Y/N. Take off my shirt.”

You were hesitant at first but you gradually moved towards him and lifted his shirt out of his body. You have never seen him shirtless before because as far as you know, it makes him uncomfortable to show some skin to others before that’s why you never saw him wearing sleeveless before. And now he’s asking you to pop his shirt for what reason?

Pulling the fabric above, Suna’s exposed skin was hit with the cool air. You gasped when you saw multiple scars across the chest and lower body. Some of them formed multiple layers above each other, making the skin rise from its base. He doesn’t have any tattoo in his lower body but he has one in his chest, near his heart. And it was…shit. Could it be…?

“You see, Y/N, I never really talked about this before but my dad used to uh, beat me up with a socket wrench when I was a child,” he spoke, voice filled with coldness. “He’s an addict and whenever he doesn’t have the money to support his damn addiction, he’ll find another way to release his stress and that is to beat me up whenever he’s got the fucking chance.”

You felt like all the nerves in your body were paralyzed as your eyes slowly widened, sinking his words inside your head. He’s dad is what? Beating him? With a socket wrench? Fuck.

“I thought I wouldn’t be able to reach college, ya know? That’s why when I was given the privilege to still continue my education, I didn’t let it go to waste as I thought that it was the only way to escape from the madness of my life.” his fingers brushed against his scars. It was healed, probably years ago yet you could visibly see the paint being painted on his face as he felt the trace of his yesterday.

“And suddenly, all of this turned all the way around when I became friends with the twins and you.” he lifted his gaze, maintaining his eye contact with you. Something ignited inside Suna when he met your orbs. He felt like colors bursted in his eyes. “When my dad finally got the help he needed and I made peace with whatever demons I have, that’s when I felt like I had another chance with life. That’s why when I started taking interest in inking, I took it very seriously because for the first time, I saw that I finally saw that I got the chance to stand in life. To live, not just to survive.”

The sincere confession made a short pang inside your heart. All this time, he was hurting. All the damn time, he’s living his life in hell. And being friends with him, just being by his side, made him realize that he can finally free himself from the uncanny of his life.

“The reason why I keep on rejecting your request is because I am not ready yet. Y/N, I spent my whole career crafting the most unique design I could ever create for you. Just for you. I wanted to make it the best among the rest. Also, as cheesy as it may sound, I wanted to be the man worthy of inking your very first tattoo.”

You felt like your heart’s going feral inside your ribcage. Suna stood up in front of you, bare bodies touching each other. You could feel his minty hot breath tickling your nose despite the coldness of the room. Slowly, he grabbed both of your hands and intertwined your fingers together before bringing it in front of you to plant a soft kiss on it.

“I’m sorry that it took me this much time to be worthy of everything. Thank you for not giving up on me. You may notice the lines in your tattoos, it represents the thought of despite being broken, you could still find your way back and bloom within it. Y/N, you gave me that reason to bloom again at my own pace.”

He dragged your hands in his chest, making you feel the only tattoo he has on his upper body. “Y/N, this is your initials. This was my very first tattoo and I intentionally got it in my heart so that whenever I hold my heart, I’ll always remember that you’re here.”

Suna’s eyes glimmered, mirroring yours as you could feel him getting more emotional any second. Giving up, you stood on your toes, enclosing the centimeters given between the two of you by latching your lips to his. Without giving it a second thought, Suna pulled you closer, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. It was a hot, wet kiss that the two of you shared as tears started tearing down in your cheeks. When Suna tasted the salty liquid, he finally let his guard down and cried himself between the sloppy kiss.

Pulling away, both of you were panting as your cheeks were stained with the liquid that you shared. You let out a chuckle and pulled him into a tight hug which he gladly returned.

“You’re never late, Suna. You will always be the tattoo artist that captivated my heart, no matter what and no matter how long it takes. I’ll always wait for your creations, and I’ll kiss every one of your flaws until you realize you’re love.”

© lightaflaem. do not repost on any platform.

bonus

y/n's "exclusive" tattoo made it to suna's instagram :]

[theemporium]

[3.1k] it was a placebo effect. you were so sure of it. but a deal with your boyfriend makes you rethink your stance on the aphrodisiac-laced chocolate. (smut)

.

“I don’t buy it.” 

Eddie raised his brows, something quite like a smirk on his lips. “No?”

“Not for a second,” you said with a shake of your head. “It’s all a placebo effect.” 

“A placebo effect,” he repeated, thoroughly amused as he shifted back against his seat, his attention now purely focused on you. “I don’t think you can call drugs a placebo effect.” 

“It’s not drugs though,” you pointed out to him. “At least not any of the fun ones. It’s an aphrodisiac, also known as the coward’s drug.” 

This time Eddie snorted. 

“The dude supplying you is fucking with you, Eddie, you’ve been ripped off,” you said, sniffling a little as you took in the array of drugs lined up on the coffee table like it was an average Tuesday. 

Well, because for the two of you, it was an average Tuesday. 

“He said he’s tried it himself,” Eddie countered, his eyes watching you closely before he reached for what looked like—to the untrained eye—as a simple bar of chocolate. “Went as far as saying it worked wonders.” 

Your brows furrowed together in response. “I still don’t buy it.” 

The first Tuesday of the month was the same for Eddie. He would drive over a couple of towns, to a town that was much bigger than Hawkins. It would be a day trip, he would leave early in the morning after pressing a kiss to the top of your head before shoving his mouth with some toast as he walked out the trailer. He would get back an hour or so before dinner, utilising the coffee counter whilst you whipped something up for the two of you. It would take him an hour or so to get through everything and sort out his inventory, then he would be all yours for the rest of the night. 

No drugs. No distractions. Just you and him and whatever crappy movie he picked up from Family Video on the way back home.

Except, this Tuesday was a little different when Eddie barrelled through the door with a massive grin split across his face, already rambling about some new product his supplied had given him a few testers on. 

Hence, leading to the two of you staring at the somewhat disappointing chocolate bar.

“You’re being cynical,” he commented.

“I’m being realistic,” you retorted as you leaned over, plucking the bar between your fingers. There was no writing on the packaging, not a single word. It was just a simple black wrapper with a love heart plastered in the middle. You snorted at the sight. “Baby, you can’t seriously think this works?” 

Eddie only shrugged in response. 

You rolled your eyes, throwing the chocolate bar back down on the table. “You are too trusting in stupid shit.” 

“Hey, it’s never stopped that stupid shit being true in the past,” Eddie countered. “No one thought demogorgons were gonna be real now, did they?”

You gave him a pointed look. “Fair but—”

“Take it with me.”

You paused, your words faltering as you stared at him suspiciously. “What?”

“Take it with me,” he said as he reached for the bar of chocolate, waving it in a teasing manner. “If you’re so sure it’s a load of shit, then there is no harm in trying it, right? Worst case scenario, we enjoy a bit of chocolate and go about our lives knowing you were unfortunately right.”

Your lips twitched. “And best case scenario?” 

Eddie’s grin widened, boyish and cheeky and full of promises that made your thighs clench together. “We fuck like bunnies until the sun rises tomorrow morning.”

You snorted. “You have a way with words, Munson.”

But Eddie just extended the bar towards you. “First one to touch the other loses?” 

Your eyes narrowed on the bar, knowing very well that your boyfriend was baiting you. He was testing that competitive streak in you, that he was just goading you, tricking you. You knew that and yet, you still fell for it.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Munson.”

“That’s what I like to hear, sweetheart.” 

The first hour passed and you didn’t feel any different. You could have laughed at how blatantly stupid the whole scenario was. The chocolate didn’t taste any different to a bar you could buy at the store, maybe a little bitter but you just assumed it was dark chocolate and moved on. 

You made your way into the kitchen, deciding to finish up dinner whilst Eddie sorted out the last of his inventory before you both found yourself settled on the small couch, plates of pasta in your hands as the movie Eddie picked played on the television.

On separate sides of the couch, of course. 

There was something like a smug smirk on your lips as you happily ate your dinner, a rush of adrenaline coursing through you because you knew you were right. It was a load of shit, just some dumb trick to fool people into spending whatever obscene amount dealers could charge them for ‘sex chocolate’. 

It was around thirty minutes into the second hour when you started to feel hot. 

Not flushed. Not warm.

Hot. 

Your body felt hot, like it was burning up. It was uncomfortable, but not in the way you expected. It wasn’t the kind of heat you felt when you stayed out in the sun for too long and your skin started to feel prickly. It wasn’t the heat when it was stuffy and muggy and the air clung onto you like a second skin. 

It was the kind of heat when Eddie would whisper something filthy in your ear when you were out, when his voice was a little raspy and strands of his hair tickled your neck as he told you every single dirty, little thing he wanted to do to you before walking away like nothing happened.

It was the kind of heat when his chest was pressed against your back, his hands running over every inch of your body as he slowly slid his cock inside you, letting you feel every inch until you swore you could feel him in the back of your throat.

It was the kind of heat that had you begging to feel every inch of him pressed against you, but even then it wasn’t enough. 

You wanted to ignore it. You tried to ignore it.

But it only led to you being painfully observant of everything around you. 

The inches that separated you and Eddie on the couch, a distance that wasn’t all that big considering it was a small couch, but now felt like an ocean between you. You wanted it gone. You wanted to crawl over and settle yourself into his side, to just feel his body against yours.

The way his hand wrapped around the beer can, the clinking of his rings against the metal can. You could see the drops of condensation rolling down the can, you knew it was just out of the fridge and it would leave his hands and rings just cold enough to make you shiver if he touched your heated skin. You wanted to feel him.

The way his tongue darted out, wetting his lips every few minutes as his eyes remained focused on the screen. The way he would tug his bottom lip between his teeth, lightly biting down when the movie got too intense. You wanted to be the one to bite his lip, to hear that little groan he would let out when you’d suck it between your lips. 

You fucking wanted him more than you had ever wanted him in your life. And as stupid and dramatic as it sounded, you thought you were going to end up burning a hole through the couch if he didn’t touch you soon.

“You’re drooling a little, baby.” 

You blinked, snapping out of your spiralling thoughts to find your boyfriend grinning at you, this time looking as smug as you did less than an hour ago. You cleared your throat, turning your gaze to the television as you pretended to understand whatever was happening on the screen.

“What were you thinking about?” Eddie continued to push, a shit-eating grin on his face as he watched you squirm in your seat. 

“Taxes,” you stated bluntly.

He huffed out a laugh, his eyes falling down to your thighs as you clenched them together. “Didn’t realise taxes got you so worked up.”

“I find them riveting,” you continued.

“Really,” Eddie mused, stretching his arm across the back of the couch. It wasn’t close enough to touch you, but enough for you to be heavily aware of the ringed fingers a few mere inches away from you. “Nothing else is making you squirm?”

You instantly froze. “I’m not squirming.”

“You haven’t been able to sit still for the last twenty minutes, baby,” Eddie commented, his voice a little rougher as he spoke. “Bet you’re fucking soaked.

You stayed silent.

“You gonna admit it, sweetheart? Gonna admit you’re all worked up?” His words were like a phantom touch across your body. “Just sitting there, thinking how nice it would be just just feel my hand slide between your legs and touch your—”

“I’m actually fine,” you bit out, a little more high-pitched than you would have liked. “But it seems like you’re having some issues over there.”

“Baby, I’ve been as hard as a fucking rock since I came back home,” Eddie snorted as he eyed the shirt of his you had been prancing around in all day. “Don’t need some chocolate to make me wanna fuck you, but it’s definitely helping.”

Almost instinctively you glanced over, your eyes falling to his lap to see if he was telling the truth.

He was, and you almost instantly regretted looking.

He had changed into some sweatpants, and guessing by the tent in his trousers, it didn’t take a genius to figure out he wasn’t wearing boxers either. You could feel the coil in your stomach tightened as you stared at his bulge, imagining what it would feel like to just reach out. To wrap your hand around the length of him and listen to the way he would shatter under your touch before you wrapped your lips around his cock and—

“You’re drooling again, baby.”

Your eyes instantly snapped away again, your cheeks flushed and heated as you tried to focus on the movie again. But you didn’t know what was happening, you didn’t even know what the name of the movie was. All you could think about was Eddie’s cock. 

“Shit.”

Your head snapped around to look at him again when he let out a low groan, his head leaning back against the couch as he palmed the length of his cock over his sweatpants. Your lips parted, watching the way he twitched under the fabric.

“What…what are you doing?” 

His head turned to look at you, a lazy smile on his face. “Never said anything about not touching ourselves,” he pointed out, squeezing his cock and letting out a pathetic noise. “Ah, fuck.”

Your mouth ran dry as you watched him. He was far more captivating to watch than the crappy movie, the way his chest heaved up and down with soft pants as he tried not to buck his hips. He was so fucking pretty and he was all yours, and you didn’t give two shits about the bet or anything else.

You wanted him and you were going to have him.

Eddie barely blinked before you were on top of him, straddling his waist as your hands reached for his face. His lips parted in surprise, a noise of surprise leaving his lips as his hands instantly moved to your hips, holding and clinging onto you like he had been wanting to do for the last two hours. 

“Baby—”

“Shut up,” you grumbled against his lips before you kissed him. 

It wasn’t a sweet kiss. It wasn’t sweet or loving or full of affection. It was sloppy and messy and desperate. It was needy and pathetic and it wasn’t doing enough to damper the heat that settled over your whole body since you ate that damn chocolate bar. You wanted more. You needed more. 

“Knew you’d give in,” Eddie murmured between shared kisses, groaning when you nipped his lip a little too hard. “Knew you’d be eating your own words.”

“Yes, whatever,” you snapped before pulling back, taking in his flushed cheeks and smug expression. “And now, I want you to fuck me, Munson. So, shut up and fuck me.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned as his hands dropped to your legs, squeezing the fat of your thighs as he moved like he was getting ready to stand up, but your hand on his chest stopped him.

“No,” you whined, your words a little breathier than you realised. “Here. Need you to fuck me here, Eddie.”

“Here?” he cooed, a tinge of mockery twisted in his words and it just made you squirm on his lap. “My pretty girl that needy for me? You don’t even wanna go to the bedroom?”

“Eddie,” you choked out, wiggling on his lap until you felt his bulge brushing against the cotton fabric of your panties. “Shit, please.”

“Shhh, baby, I got you,” he murmured as his hand rested on your throat, his thumb brushing against your beating pulse. “Gonna give you everything you need.”

You were too impatient to pause even for a second, let alone long enough to strip out of your clothes. But Eddie was no better. Despite the patronising words and soft touches, he was fucking desperate to be inside of you. He had been desperate and regretting his words the second the deal left his lips, he was just glad you finally gave in. 

His sweatpants were pushed down enough for his cock to spring free, red and leaking and desperate to be inside of you. You hadn’t even lifted yourself off his lap to take off your panties, just pushing them to the side as you swiped the tip of his dick along your soaking folds before you finally sunk down on him.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck—”

Your head fell to his shoulder, a muffled sob let out as you felt each inch of him slide inside you. His fingers were gripping the cheeks of your ass, squeezing and digging into your skin as he tried to hold back, as he tried to think about everything except the fact he wanted to come already.

That self restraint lasted all but thirty seconds before you were bouncing on his cock, before your nails were digging into his chest, before you were moaning like something out of a fucking porno. 

You had completely lost all care and inhibitions, and it was the hottest thing Eddie had ever seen in his life.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the trailer, deafening the movie still playing on the screen. You bounced on his cock until you came once, twice, three times and it still wasn’t enough. You wanted more of him, you needed to feel every part of him until it was all you could think, smell and taste. 

There was a part of him that would care later, that would be mindful of the mess you had both made. The fact your release was soaking your thighs, his own and the couch beneath you. The fact that the trailer was stuffy and hot and probably smelt like sex. The fact that the remaining clothes you had kept on were all but shredded in a pile on the floor.

Those would all be things for him to care about later, but not when your face was pressed against the arm of the couch, nails digging into fabric of the couch as you wiggled your ass impatiently. 

“Please,” you all but sobbed, one hand reaching back for him. “Please, Eddie, I need you—”

His hand reached for yours, intertwining your fingers before he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. “I know, baby, I know,” he cooed, his voice low and gruff and the whine that left your mouth was almost embarrassing. “Such a needy fucking slut.”

“Just need your cock,” you murmured, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt his tip nudge against your swollen clit. “Need you inside me, please.”

“My needy slut,” he murmured, another sloppy kiss placed against your lips before he sat up, his hands gripping your waist so tight you were sure you would bruise by the morning, but you didn’t care. 

Not when he started to pound into you from behind, not when the noises leaving your lips were debauched and desperate and sending a thrill of pleasure down his spine. Not when he could feel your walls clenching around him, your ass bouncing against his pelvis with every thrust until he couldn’t help himself as his hand came down on your ass cheek.

The moan you let out only encouraged him to do it again.

“Shit, look at you,” he groaned, watching the way your needy cunt swallowed him whole with every buck of his hips. “S’like you were made f’me, baby, fucking made for my cock.”

Your moans were whiny and incoherent.

“Yeah? My little whore made for my cock?” he gritted out through clenched teeth, his hips pressed against yours as he leaned over your body, as his chest pressed against your back and his arms wound around your body to grope your tits. “My little toy, hm?”

“Yours,” you murmured out, your lips parting in a silent scream as the coil deep in your stomach tightened. 

“My little toy gonna come?” he murmured, watching in delight the way you silently nodded, tears slipping down your face. “Come f’me, baby, let me feel you come.” 

 You were a mess by the time Eddie came too, a mix of your come and his own leaking out of you and onto the couch. Your skin was shiny with a layer of sweat, your body far too tired to even hold yourself up. And yet, still, you craved him. You craved more.

“Those chocolates are fucking dangerous,” Eddie murmured in amusement as he placed a bottle of water at your lips, lightly slapping your ass until you finally took a few gulps.

“Need you,” you whispered with a sniffle.

“Still?” He grinned before he joked. “Maybe we should do this every day.”

“Eddie,” you whined but he was there, he was always there to give you want.

“I know, baby, but gotta give you a lil’ break,” he murmured, and yet despite saying as much, you couldn’t help but let out a needy mewl when he slid back inside you, quick and easy considering how wet you still were. “Gonna keep you full, honey. I said until the morning, and I mean that.”

“Good,” you grumbled as you nuzzled yourself against his chest, still craving that closeness.

“Remind me to call Johnny tomorrow and ask for a bigger batch of those chocolates too.” 

You could only snort in response as Eddie placed a kiss against your temple.

.

[jasongracesenthusiast]

PRINCESS OF THE GODS !

PARING(s), percy jackson x daughter of HERA reader

WARNING(s), basically just marriage

AUTHOR’S NOTE, yeah i listened to juno while doing this, what about it

౨ৎ percy met you a little while after he arrived at camp. you were the only demigod child of hera, the queen of the gods. he was surprised at the thought that zeus would even allow you to live, but in fairness, he wasn’t dead yet either

౨ৎ you two didn’t actually consider yourselves friends until after ttc, when you were kidnapped (yes you’re taking annie’s place IM SORRYYY)

౨ৎ after the events of all that, percy found himself…drifting towards you, in a way

౨ৎ like, before everything happened, even if you weren’t necessarily friends, he did know you, like your existence mattered so much to him, he just didn’t know why at the time

౨ৎ but you, on the other hand, somehow did

౨ৎ when you were saved by percy and friends, you were very optimistic that it was him saving you and not somebody else, cause that just wouldn’t be as fun

౨ৎ anyways from the moment you met him, you were like “oh yeah that’s my future boyfriend right there”

౨ৎ and yeah calm down just a little bit, but you also just knew, and you thanked your mother everyday for giving you this knowledge

౨ৎ but you were also pissed because holy shit, it took percy a while to come to terms with how he felt about you, even after saving you and becoming friends

౨ৎ but when i tell you how many times you made a move until he realized

౨ৎ you were very clear about your feelings, like you genuinely had nothing to hide

౨ৎ percy was extremely confused about the fact that you never dated anybody at all

౨ৎ and loads of people at camp clearly find you attractive and percy does, too, so when you were like “oh yeah i’ve never had a boyfriend before” he was as shocked as possible

౨ৎ because like, it’s you

౨ৎ and you’d think that would make it click that he had feelings for you

౨ৎ unfortunately. it did the opposite.

౨ৎ and that was kind of your last straw. you literally sat him down and explained your feelings to him and how you liked him ever since he saved you

౨ৎ THAT’S when he fully realized it

౨ৎ and it’s not cause he’s stupid (mischaracterized percy jackson they could never make me like you), it’s because it’s YOU. the pretty daughter of hera who a lot of people crushed on

౨ৎ you were practically a princess and percy took that so seriously, he found it so hard to believe that you liked him

౨ৎ after insisting that you really did like him, yippie that’s when y’all started dating !!

౨ৎ and when i tell you how much of a power couple you are. you two just radiate that kind of energy, even if someone didn’t know you were together

౨ৎ like you didn’t even need to tell anyone, everybody just. knew, and percy was stunned and he was like, they knew??? did you tell everyone???

౨ৎ and you were like no that’s just the power couple energy

౨ৎ when i tell you he worships the very ground you walk on I FUCKING MEAN IT. you know that one thing where a girl is singing on stage and her boyfriend is sobbing? that’s you two

౨ৎ if i or anyone else had to describe your relationship, it would be that

౨ৎ since your mother is the goddess of marriage, you were very clear about the fact that percy was the man you were to marry, and everybody just like. accepted it

౨ৎ even people who had current or previous crushes on you accepted that, mostly because you often referred to him as your husband like it was a regular thing

౨ৎ percy lets you do it every time and never corrects you, even calling you his wife sometimes.

౨ৎ listen you had your entire future with him planned. from the proposal (if he didn’t do it by age 22, you fucking would), to the wedding, to having kids, all that. he knew he could not stop you like he knew you were prepared

౨ৎ but percy still loved every minute of it, because the thought of marrying you, the love of his life, was just astonishing. he loves you just as much as he loves the thought of making you his wife, because it was you he would be marrying.

[queers-gambit]

Simple, Easy, Effortless

prompt: ( requested ) from across the dance floor, Felix locks eyes with you and is instantly smitten. is it love at first sight? lust? he's determined to know.

pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Saltburn

word count: 5.1k+

note: this man is a SLUT but i'm sluttier in theory

warnings: the ducklips in the gif, obviously cursing, sexual tension, "love at first sight", author def uses her own university roommate experiences for inspiration, Lord's name in vain, mention of illicit drug use. REMEMBER: don't run from cops unless with Felix - or absolutely necessary - or you KNOW you can get away.

song featured in the movie and request: Murder on the Dance Floor

Humid. Sweaty. Pulsing. Overpopulated.

All good adjectives to describe your first university party with your roommate, Polly Schwartz. She had already been to loads of parties already, probably more than her actual classes, but being as you were a "scholarship kid", you took your education much more seriously than she did. Perhaps being why you spent your weekends studying, and she spent hers getting drunk, sleeping with randoms constantly, and partying nearly every weekend. You didn't think there was anything wrong with her habts, in fact, you encouraged her to go out most of the time; but after midterms, you were burnt the fuck out and Polly recommended you have a night out with her.

When she needed it, you helped Polly study, and now, it was time for her to return the favor in her own area of expertise. Tonight's party was hosted in an off-campus flat, making you worry about the authorities being phoned, but Polly assured you that nearly the entire complex was composed of Oxford students and there was barely a threat of this party being busted.

The moment you stepped into the humid, sweaty, pulsing, overpopulated flat, a drink was shoved into your hand by a barely-standing boy with a nose ring. He was decently attractive, but the belch he let out made you grimace and follow after Polly. He might've yelled something after your retreating form, but who could tell with the noise level?

"You need to loosen up, bitch! Jesus Christ, you're as stiff as a board, and trust me! No guy is gonna wanna approach you!" She laughed, missing your protest that you didn't care for male attention. "Wait," she gasped, "where'd you get that?"

"Uh, that lad over there," you pointed, blinking in mild shock when she snatched the drink from your hand and poured it out in a dying houseplant.

"I thought you were the brains of us," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Never accept a drink you didn't see being made! That's how you get drugged!"

"I'm not sure how this is supposed to work, Polly, for fuck's sake," you whined, hugging your arms as you gazed around nervously. "Maybe I should just go back to the dorms, this isn't really my scene - "

"Nope, you're staying," she shook her head, leading you by the hand to the kitchen. "Here - hang on, I'll get us something. Farleigh, my love!"

The handsome lad with a head full of fluffed coils turned with a small glare, but softened when he noted Polly's appearance. "There you are! I was wondering when you'd get here, darling!"

She giggled obnoxiously and you understood, this must've been the lad she was seeing on-and-off for the whole semester. "Well, I finally got this one out of the library, so we're a little late for a reason," she laughed, pointing her thumb back at you and making the boy eye you with judgement.

You gave a small wave, and he instantly offered his hand, introducing himself as, "Farleigh." After giving him your name, Polly was insisting you both needed a drink and Farleigh was nodding in agreement. "Here, drinks are this way - but it's self serve."

"Nobody made juice?" Polly pouted, the three of you approaching a decent-sized table that was full of bottles of liquor and mixers.

"Not this time," Farleigh laughed, and you let Polly make your drink because you were busy trying not to get run over by the other party goers.

"Christ Almighty, surely the floors will cave in with this many people?" You frowned when another drunk bumped into you and sloppily apologized.

"Only if we're lucky," Farleigh laughed. He directed at Polly, "Oh, remember Stephen's party? Donovan put a hole through the wall!"

Polly laughed as she handed you a fresh drink and all but ignored you in favor of this boy that was tapping a bit of suspicious powder onto his hand. Your eyes rolled and you turned away from them, slowly stalking around the room and taking in the scene - hating the way your ears felt as if they were bleeding from the terrible music selection.

But after you skulled your drink, you ran into a few classmates from your anthropology class. "Here, you can have this," Chelsea took the drink from Cara, "she's had way too much already."

You figured this exchange was safe enough after seeing Cara taking several gulps; not even noticing her hands were empty because she was dancing to the floor-shaking music in a daze.

"Who're you here with?" Pablo asked, bobbing his head to the beat. "We all came as a group, don't tell me you're alone!?"

"No, no, love, I came with Polly," you shrugged, feeling looser than when you first got there.

"Ew," Pablo rolled his eyes, the other girl snickering.

"Wait, what? What am I missing?" You asked with a small whine.

"Polly Harrington?" He asked, watching you nod. "Yeah, no, your li'l friend's the one who sucked off Professor Lorde."

"What?" You gaped.

"Why do you think she's here?" He gossiped. "Surely, not for her grades."

You just shook your head, "Maybe we shouldn't throw stones, it's rude to speak about others behind their backs."

"Doll face, it's not like it's a secret," Pablo laughed, nodding at your drink. "C'mon, bottoms up, buttercup, we've gotta get you dancing. You look way too cute to be a wallflower all night, c'mon, let's go! Chug! Chug!"

You gingerly took a gulp, but Pablo and Chelsea were encouraging you to just finish it off. When you did, they cheered with pride, laughing when you began giggling, "That's the worst taste! God!"

"Oh, sweetie, we don't drink for the taste, we drink to make us better dancers!" Chelsea beamed. "Want mine?"

"No, no - "

"Down it!"

You shrugged, inhibitions already significantly lowered, and with ease, finished your third drink. "I should get us more!" Pablo laughed.

"You do that, we're gonna dance!" Your friend waved him off, snatching your hand, and leading you to the dance floor. It was hard to distinguish where it was since there was wall-to-wall college kids stuffing the place, but you weaseled your way between people and let the alcohol take control. "Hey! By the way!" Chelsea spoke in your ear, "You look really hot! I adore this skirt!"

"Me? Babe, look at you! Can I borrow this dress?"

"Only if I can borrow those shoes!" She squealed.

You giggled and took her hand, spinning her around before joining together again. When Pablo rejoined, he handed you both a drink before jumping in front of you, throwing his reasonably fat arse back into your crotch - which forced you back onto your girlfriend in a dancing train. You three cheered through your laughter, smacking the lad's bottom playfully as he put his heart and soul into his dance; hands on his knees and hips bouncing.

However, Pablo only pulled away when Farleigh reappeared and stole him away to a darkening corner; only briefly making you wonder where he had left your roommate. You looked at Chelsea, who giggled in your ear, "They've been fucking recently. Pablo's whipped."

"I don't blame him," you mused. Cara had stumbled closer to you two, throwing her skinny arms around your neck and starting on a drunken ramble about how much she loved you - despite only sharing the one class together and knowing each other from a distance. Still, you appreciated the sentiment and let yourself feel loved; taking a sip from the plastic solo cup in hand and swinging your hips to the pulsing beat. In that moment, you just happened to look up, gasping, "There's a stripper pole!?"

"Go get on it!" Cara laughed. "Oh, wait, Felix is on it - oh, shit, Felix!"

"Who?" You asked.

"Felix, you know!? Felix Catton? Felix fucking Catton!" Cara blinked, then offered you an incredulous look and turned to Chelsea. "She doesn't know Felix?"

She waved Cara off, instead explaining to you, "He's that tall lad, in the white button up."

When you looked, Felix happened to glance over and your eyes connected. You were absolutely done for.

"Oh, yeah, she knows Felix now!" Cara giggled loudly. "Go! Go talk to him!" She encouraged, making your eyes bug widely.

"What?" You looked at the two girls, shaking your head, "No, no, I don't even know him!"

"Babes, 75% of the people you see paired up right now didn't know each other before this party!" Cara rolled her pretty eyes. "But hey, if you don't, India definitely will. Girl basically lives on his cock, it's decently pathetic - but just look at him! God took his time with Felix!"

"Oh, are they dating?" You asked innocently, looking back over to the tall boy in a white, linen button up. He grinned at you from the short distance.

"No," Chelsea laughed, seeing the way you two just stared and smiled softly. "Here, finish your drink and let the liquid courage do its job!"

"It's literally my first party," you laughed, "I'm not interested - "

"Oh, fuck off! Everyone's interested in Felix," Cara interrupted. "And I do mean, literally everyone."

"I can understand why," you mused, taking a long pull from your cup. "Cara, that lad, there, has been staring at you," you distracted, her swinging around instantly and thanking you before dancing over to the boy leaning on the wall.

He smirked when she reached him.

"She's a social butterfly," her roommate, Chelsea, giggled. "Do you need a refill?"

"Huh? Oh, no, I'm okay!"

"Okay, don't go too far - I'll be right back!" She grinned, knowing something you didn't, and disappearing into the thick crowd.

You swallowed another drink before you felt a hand on your waist, making you jump in surprise and turn. Before you towered the object of seemingly everyone's desires: Felix Catton.

"Haven't seen you around before," he spoke in your ear over the music.

"Oh, first timer," you nodded back.

"Doin' all right? Yeah? Havin' fun?"

You agreed, "Yeah, 'course. This your party?"

"No, no, uh," he glanced around the heads of students, "honestly, I'm not really sure who's flat this is."

"Oh, well, I guess as long as it's not damaged, it doesn't matter much, right?"

"Exactly," he smirked, offering his cup to yours. You clinked them together, both taking the obligatory sip, and swaying unconsciously to the music. "Who're you here with?"

"Polly - "

"Oh, Christ, yeah! Yeah, you're, uh, you're her roommate?"

You nodded, "You know her?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Oh," you frowned in discomfort, brows pinched.

"No, no, I just meant, she's popular, innit she? Not that - that she's sucked me off or anything like that!"

You laughed, "Wasn't thinking that, but good to know."

His cheeks flared a bright red, "That was a bit brash of me, wasn't it? Sorry, love, I should know better than to use such vocabulary with a pretty lady."

Your eyes rolled, "This 'pretty lady' has both heard and used much worse vernacular."

Felix slowly grinned, "You want a smoke?"

"Dying for one actually, yeah."

"This way, c'mon," he offered his free hand, and without thinking, you accepted and let the tall, slender lad lead you through the crowd. All of a sudden, you felt as if every eye was on you - watching, stalking, clocking you like predator does prey. You were directed to a balcony, a few lingering smokers standing around.

The moment the glass door slid shut, the music was semi-silenced and you breathed in slight relief. "Christ, 's always this loud?" You asked, leaning on the railing beside your companion while rubbing an ear to relieve the ringing sensation.

"Usually, yeah," he smirked, handing you a cigarette before placing one between his lips.

"You looked real natural on that pole," you teased, leaning in when he flicked a lighter to life.

"Oh, God," he laughed, watching you inhale. "Saw that, did you?"

You hummed, holding the smoke in your lungs, "Kinda hard t'miss. You were really into it."

He shrugged, lighting the end of his own nicotine filled stick. Upon exhale, he eased, "Was a really good song, wasn't it? Easy t'dance to, you know?"

"Hm," you nodded, "actually, I wouldn't know - I don't know half these songs."

"You livin' under a rock, love?"

"No, just with my nose in a book."

"Smart girl, are yah?"

"I would hope so, considering my scholarship."

"Even more impressive," he grinned. "You know Oliver, then? Oliver Quick? He's on scholarship, too."

"No, not quite, us scholarship kids don't all know one another," you shot back with a smirk.

"Fair enough," he agreed, eyeing you up and down. "So, why tonight?"

"Hmm?"

"Why come tonight?"

"Polly thought I could use a little stress relief," you answered, taking a long puff. "Not exactly the way I saw my night going, though."

"How's that?"

"Look at you!" You laughed. "Of all the ladies here, you danced your way over to me? Now you're having a conversation instead of working that pole?"

"I like to think that I just had to introduce myself to the prettiest lass in the whole joint," he flirted.

"And yet," you inhaled, "you've haven't made introductions."

"No? I haven't?" He smirked, watching your head shake. "Apologies, love. I'm Felix, uh, Felix Catton," he offered his hand, and when you shook it, you told him your own full name. "Now that that's outta the way," he took his own inhale, "how's about we go dance?"

"Oh, I might need to finish this drink before all that," you lifted your cup to your lips.

"Nah, I saw you earlier," he chuckled, stomping his cigarette out under his boot. "C'mon, love, not letting you get outta here without at least one dance."

"Surely, India would be a better option?"

He scoffed, "Oh? And how would you know that?"

"Chelsea and Cara might've made mention earlier. I wouldn't want to steal someone's man - girl code, and that shit."

For whatever reason, this made Felix snicker, "No, no, you've got it wrong, India and I are just friends."

"That's what guys say when they're sleeping with their 'friend'."

"Either way, she's not my girl," he smirked. "C'mon, love, one dance. If you're not convinced after that, I'll let yah go - no fuss."

"Oh, well, that doesn't sound remotely creepy," you laughed, dropping your own cigarette and stomping it out. "All right, yeah, one dance."

"Just one."

"A single dance."

"No more, but no less," he smirked, lacing your fingers together when you laid your hand in his. "Deal?"

You nodded, feeling absolutely giddy by his attention. When you reentered the party, it was almost as if it had grown in population, and suddenly, you wanted to be back on the balcony just to breathe. But Felix had a secure hold on you, and after downing the last of your drink, you set the cup on a random end table you passed before taking position on the "dance floor".

What you absolutely did not anticipate was that Felix wasn't the best dancer, but holy shit, did he not care; letting go and having fun. You let the alcohol in your system propel you, and soon, one dance turned into two, and two turned to three. It was like nobody else was there, it was just you and Felix; dancing like fools, letting your hair down, and you actually found yourself enjoying the music that vibrated the entire flat.

The song that played wasn't one you recognized, but the lyrics felt strangely appropriate for your current situation. Though there was no groove to be killed, no moves to steal, and no murdering on this dance floor, there was a whole lotta tension that fueled your movements together.

"Oh, oh, here we go, c'mon!" He laughed, tugging your hand after him to approach the stripper pole the flat's owner had installed. "Go on, love, show me how it's done!"

"Oh, fuck no!" You barked in laughter. "You're the master, let me take notes."

"I'll warn you, once you see my moves up close," he planted a hand on the pole and swung around it once, "you won't be able to resist!"

You waved him on, eyes widening when he danced around the pole as if nobody was watching, but in reality, he had an entire audience. Not that you noticed, you were solely focused on the boy putting on a show for you; both wearing goofy grins. When he got REALLY into it, you had to admit your stomach knotted in attraction when his lips pushed into a slutty pout. Never had you wanted to kiss someone so bad in your life before, but it increased ten fold when he swung around and grabbed onto your waist; effortlessly pushing you onto the pole as he released it.

"C'mon, then!" He beamed, watching you stand for a single awkward moment before figuring, why the hell not?

So, you swung yourself around before shocking Felix to his bloody core by holding the pole and grinding down it - giving a teasing peek at your panties when your legs spread slightly to accommodate your dance moves. His jaw slackened, eyes raked up and down your form, lips pulling in a smirk the longer he watched you go. Your hair flung around, hips gyrated in movements that made his pants tighten, and when he couldn't stand it any longer, he caught you in another swing.

Hips against yours, arms around one another, he danced you back onto the crowded floor; a hand raising to caress the side of your face as if he was mesmerized by all you were, all you are.

It was so simple to lose yourself in his dancing, in his scent, in his aurora. It was so easy to move against him. It was so simple to exist with Felix fucking Catton.

He was intoxicating, making you feel more drunk on him than the alcohol you had ingested. And while the moment felt serious, once you were surrounded by peers again, you melted into a sense of silliness. Any care you had, any worry - it all melted away, it evaporated, got swept under the rug because Felix commandeered your entire attention.

From the side of the room, Cara and Chelsea squealed in excitement for you, high-fiving when they noted India's jealous glare. Farleigh and Pablo even snickered, wondering how long it would take for Felix's charm to get you into bed; a bet being placed between the two lads before taking another bump of cocaine that distracted them for the rest of the time.

On the dance floor, your laughter was genuine and a little loud when he swung you around before dying in your throat when he pulled you in close. Again, the party melted away and it was just you and Felix; his hands on your hips, head bowed to corral you close, his warm brown eyes intense as they flitted between your eyes and lips.

You knew what he wanted, but didn't want to give into temptation yet. Keeping an air of mystery, you smiled coyly and pushed back slightly - but he was yanking you right back in.

When a friend of his came around with a tray full of shots, his arm coiled around your waist tightly to keep you anchored as he accepted the Jell-O concoction. You still buzzed from your earlier drinks and nicotine, bobbing and humming to the song playing, Felix instantly moving with you.

And just like you worried earlier, from deep in the party, someone shouted, "IT'S THE FUZZ! GO! SCATTER!"

"Oh, shit! Oh, my God!" You gasped in worry, the music cutting and students rushing for the exit.

"C'mere, c'mere, 's all right," Felix rushed, pulling you back into a wall to let the stampede rush around you as he planted you in front of him. Your hands held his waist, watching those around you run away, and when you looked up, Felix was already staring at you.

The moment your eyes met, you both snickered in amusement before bursting into full-on laughter. "Oh, Jesus Christ!" You mused, leaning your forehead to his pectoral. "I knew it - of course my first party is busted, hey?"

"Just makes it all the more memorable, yeah?"

"You were doing a pretty good job on your own with that," you met his gaze again - feeling coy and playful.

"Yeah?" He grinned. "Well, I try."

"I think you succeed."

He opened his mouth to respond, caressing your cheek, but someone else shouted, "GO, GO, GO! Felix, c'mon, mate! The fuck you doin'! We gotta go! I can't get another citation!"

"Let's go," he told you instead, lacing your hands together again and joining the last of the stream filtering out of the flat.

"Where're we - "

"This way, trust me," he dodged down a separate hallway, a few others following his lead. Down a flight of stairs, turning down another hall, and you two were bursting into the chilly night air.

The lights of the copper's cars flashed from around the building and you realized you were at the back. Others were rushing from the door, scattering into the night, but Felix just leaned on the brownstone and waited, checking your surroundings.

"What now?" You worried, panting lightly from the rush of adrenaline.

"We go that way," he nodded, "walk slow and calm, we don't know shit about a party. We're just walking back to campus, yeah?"

"Oh, like that'll work," you snickered, but again, laced your hands together. "On your lead, my lord," you joked.

"That make you my lady?"

"Hm, nah," you refused with a smirk, "I don't do well with sharing and you seem to be well liked, aren't yah?"

He hummed, letting go of your hand to toss his arm around your neck, still subtly checking around you for any police officers. Your arm latched around his waist, reaching up to hold the hand dangling from your shoulders. "I might be well liked, but for you, I'd drop everyone," he flirted easily - as if second nature, as if he didn't even have to think about the words that oozed out of that slick mouth.

"Oh, how flattering."

"I would hope so," he breathed, leading you out of the back garden. "Swear, love, never been so caught-up before. Just saw you and had t'come talk - had t'know who you are. I mean, just look at'cha, sweetheart, can you really blame me?"

"That line usually works, does it?"

"More often than not," he laughed, you joining in as you slipped from the back gate.

"HEY! YOU TWO! STOP RIGHT THERE! STOP!"

"Oh, shit," Felix gasped, snatching your hand in an instant as two officers started to clumsily rush towards you two.

"What do we - "

"Run!" He laughed, yanking you after him.

"Felix!"

"HEY! STOP! STOP! COME BACK HERE!"

You couldn't stop laughing as you both sprinted down the street and around an alley, taking three more turns before coming to a panting halt; pausing to listen.

"Hear 'em?" He whispered, keeping you on the inside so he could peer down the alley you had escaped down.

"No...?"

"I don't either," he nodded, glancing down at you and chuckling. "You're fast, you on the track team?"

"Oh, please, you should be fast when running from the law, shouldn't you?"

"Knew I liked you," he barked in humor. "C'mon, love, 's a nice night, innit it?"

"Nice night for what? Breaking laws?"

"Well, yeah, but I meant for a walk," he mused, walking backwards, snagging both your hands in his to pull you off the wall you were hiding behind. "It's a bit of a hike back to campus, might as well make the most of it," he smiled, turning to keep pace beside you with his arm around your waist. "Not every night I get t'walk in the moonlight with a beautiful lass."

You pulled his arm up to your shoulders again, holding his waist comfortably, and being as you weren't familiar with the area, trusting him to lead you back. After a beat, you admitted in a sigh, "You know, tonight wasn't what I expected and yet, it's exactly what I thought."

"Was it better or worse than you could've planned?"

You laughed, "Well, running from the cops wasn't on my bingo card."

"How's it feel? 'T be such a bad girl?"

"You tell me."

Felix laughed, "Ah, love, not my first time, but it's just as exhilarating."

"Jesus," you rolled your eyes in humor. "Not exactly what I wanted to hear, you having other run-ins with officers."

"Oh, you like it!"

"I might," you agreed, stepping onto the sidewalk of a main street. "Oh, shit, oh, my God!" You halted, looking nervous and frantic. "I left Polly! Fuck!"

"Nah, nah, nah, don't worry, love, I saw her leave earlier while we were dancing."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, she left with Johnny."

"Who the fuck is Johnny?"

He grinned, "Yeah, that's it, you're hanging with me from now on. We'll get you aquatinted with your classmates, yeah?"

"Maybe I have no want nor need to know people," you spoke softly. "I'm here for an education, not t’socialize."

"Doesn't hurt though, does it?"

"After tonight? I don't know if you can make that case."

"You seriously telling me you didn't have fun? Oh, sweetheart, that hurts. I'm hurt, honestly," he pouted dramatically, free hand to his heart; glittering gold ring winking at you under the street lamps.

"What's that?" You asked, alcohol making you easily distracted. He glanced at his hand and held it out for you, showing his ring. "What's the design? It's real pretty - didn't think I'd see it on a guy."

He chuckled, "Ah, it's a signet - my family's signet, actually."

"Jesus, I knew it," you groaned. "No way you were just a regular somebody! A bloody signet? What? Related t'the Queen, are yah?"

"No, not exactly," he snorted. "But my father is knighted..."

"Holy shit," you blinked. "What's that like?"

He looked down at you, brows slowly furrowing, "You really wanna know? Most people just, I don't know, kinda assume I'm rich and that's all there is to my life."

You felt a single pang of empathy, smiling up at him, "I really wanna know, Felix. C'mon, what's your family do? Both parents still alive? They still married? Where's home?"

For the entire walk back to campus, you and Felix talked as if old friends. Sure, you were getting to know each other, but it felt as if you'd known one another for ages by how easy it was to talk to him. And he seemed enthralled by your questions; wondering about his life, not just the pretty face he bore. Not just the money to his name. You seemed genuinely curious as to who "Felix Catton" was... Something he hadn't known his entire time at Oxford.

When you got back to your dorm, you felt sad by the idea of parting ways, something that genuinely shocked you. Yet the obscene sounds from behind the thin, wooden door alerted you to Polly and her guest, making you pause and sigh. "Well, that's awkward," you mused, leaning on the opposite wall. "Uh, thanks for walking me back, but I'm just gonna crash in the common room."

"Oh, bollocks to that, love," he shook his head, offering his hand again. "C'mon, you can crash with me."

"Hm, sounds sketchy."

"Oh? How's that?" He laughed.

"We just met!"

"C'mon, sweetheart, it's just a bed t'sleep in. Promise, nothing's gonna happen - even if you beg."

"Oh, what a gentleman," you laughed, much to his amusement. "All right, yeah... If I can borrow something to sleep in? Not entirely comfortable sleepin' in this..."

"I've gotcha," he nodded, leading you from your dorm and to his. Which, to your surprise, was the housing beside your own.

"Oh, Felix, NO!" You gaped when you entered his room. "Oh, darling, no, no, no, what's this?"

"It's not that bad - "

"No, I'm talking that!" You laughed, not phased by the mess, pointing to the Manchester football flag. "Don't tell me - "

"Nah, hey, don't do that, 's my father's team," he chuckled. "It reminds me to watch, gives us something t'talk about..."

You cooed, "Well, that's actually sweet of you. I guess I can let it slide."

"Oh, you're a saint."

He tossed you clean boxers and a tee shirt, letting you change in the adjoining restroom as he quickly changed in the bedroom. When you joined him again, you both got comfortable on the bed, but sleep evaded you... Leading into a long night of chatter, jokes, and establishing friendship that would eventually turn romantic.

But for that night, it was simple. It was easy. It was effortless.

You both crashed around 4 am, and when you woke the following afternoon, your head was on his chest, his arm tight around your waist, and there wasn't a single concern in your heart or head.

"Jesus, fuck," Felix groaned when he woke, tightening his arm to constrict you against his warm body on the teeny, tiny dorm bed. "Ah, Christ, remind me not t'drink again, yeah, love?"

"You and me, both," you grumbled, nestling closer.

He sighed, "Yah hungry?"

"A bit."

"Wanna go t'yours, change, get something t'eat?" He offered, rubbing your waist. "C'mon, my treat."

You lifted your head to check his bedside clock, grunting as you laid back down, "It's past noon."

"So? Stomachs don't open or close."

You let your chin prop on his chest, smiling, "Food sounds nice."

He nodded, eyes once more dancing between yours. "Know, you look real good in my clothes. Might have t'let you keep it."

"Much appreciated, pretty boy. C'mon, food helps with the hangover, doesn't it?"

"Very much," he nodded, reaching for his cigarettes. "Hmm?" He offered.

"Mhm," you accepted, both settling on your backs, but he pulled you in close to light your stick. "You always like this?" You whispered, smoking swirling in the air above you.

"What's that?"

"Charismatic?"

"Ah, if I could turn it off... Well, bein' honest, I wouldn't."

"Oh, shove off," you both laughed lightly at your words, looking up at him. He seemed ethereal in the morning light, and then - it happened. He set his cigarette to an ashtray to free his hand, caressing your cheek and making you go still.

"Would you think less of me if I kiss you?"

"I'd think less if you didn't, I think..."

He smirked and curled over, lips finding yours in a searing, breathtaking kiss that tasted like the previous night's alcohol. Yet he still tasted so pleasantly spicy and unique, making you inhale sharply and hold onto the back of his neck to keep him close. He hummed lightly, tongues swirling like the smoke that still hung in the air, and when he pulled back, again, you both just laughed lightly before he was swooping in for another kiss.

It was like I said... Simple, easy, effortless.

requesting rules and masterlist

Saltburn masterlist

[jocelynscrazyideas]

Loss | Nico Hischier x Reader

inspired by the song crazy in love- remix by Beyoncé

Warnings: language, argument, cool off, makeup sex, breeding kinks, unprotected smut!!! BE SAFE PLZZ (very small amount of smut at the end, really only a makeup blurb)

Summary: after the devils lost their last game that could’ve gotten them into the playoffs, Nico takes the loss personally.

💭: JACK THEN LUKE 🩷🤞

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

The ride home from the game was the loudest silence I’ve heard. Nico was the last one off the ice and the first one to leave the locker room. He was in a rush to get home.

No comments on any conversation I made, no road rage, no hand on my thigh, no post game kisses. If anything, I’m scared he’ll leave.

Nico would never do anything to hurt me, but when it comes to hockey, he’ll most definitely pick the sport over me. I’m okay knowing his career is a bigger deal than me, because of how big of a deal hockey is to everyone else.

I mean he’s captain. He should be working his ass off and not just for the spot as C, but for everyone to respect him.

“Nico. You know if you need to-“ Nico cuts me off.

“I don’t need to talk about it.” He shoots out. I think i see actual steam coming out of his ears. Before we head home, Nico stopped by a grocery store to pick up a snack.

He gets out of the car and didn’t open my door. “Well i guess I’m not going with.” I mutter to myself.

I see Nico walk into the store, he has tears in his eyes, I watch him walk away, hands up to his face. He’s wiping the tears away.

Real men show emotion.

“God.” I scream in frustration. I take my shoes off, i let my socks hand out, leaving my puffer jacket on i slide my purse off.

I take my phone out of my pocket from my jeans, I’m tired of it, seriously, why am I getting blamed.

~text~

i want choco pretz. (You)

send me $$ then. (Nico)

nvm. (You)

Read (Nico)

~

what a bitch.

Nico comes out of the store with four plastic bags on each side of his arms. He stuffs the goods into the backseats.

“So, what did you get?” I ask him. I don’t my pretzels.

“Your chocolate pretzels- and your gummies.” He slides his arm into a bag sitting behind my seat. He takes his hand and throws the bag of pretzels at me. My eye gets hit, I have a red mark lining through my eyebrow to the bottom of my nose- acrooss my eyelid.

~

We made it home. Nico already had dinner, and i ate Mac and cheese before the game. “Dinner in five. Be ready or I’m going to bed.” Nico says. He walks into the house, leaving me to open my own door and take my own bag. He leaves his hockey gear in the trunk and he gathers the grocery bags.

He loads the bags into the kitchen leaving him to unload them. I walk into the bedroom we share and i take my get ready bag, some makeup, and pjs and i wlak into the guest bedroom.

“Where are you going?” He snaps at me. He whips his head around to look at the hallway I’m in, facing our bedroom he sees the empty space of a bed I slept in.

I took my pillow, my personal blanket, and my phone charger. It looks like we broke up and i no longer had a life in this house. The vanity i sat in every morning is dark, and empty.

“Where does it look like?” I responded. I implied i was leaving for the night by gesturing to the pillow and small blanket in my hands that I wasn’t sleeping in the bed tonight.

“Sure as hell you’re but sleeping in the guest, and you’re not sleeping in your car.” He shouts at me. Nico gets angry easily, obviously not always at me but he was already upset about the game, I didn’t wnat to be around him.

I rolled my eyes and snarked at him. I walk into the room and shut the door. I immediately lock it setting my stuff down on the bed.

“Let me fucking in the room y/n. Open the stupid door.” He screams out for me.

“Just fucking cook dinner!” I yell back. I’m not mad at him, I’m mad at the fact he shuts me out and gets mad at me for trying.

~

Eventually I smell the food go cold, I don’t smell the warm hot steam from the food, so I open the door, I poke me head out. The bedroom door is shut. The lights are off. “Maybe he’s sleeping.” I whisper to myself.

Nico is no where in sight, so I leave the room I was hiding in. I grabbed a plate of whatever he made for dinner and popped it in the microwave.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Nico grabs my hips. “I need to talk.” He motions me to the couch.

“Oh, so now you wanna talk?” I roll my eyes and scoff. Ridiculous.

I switch the lights on as I sit my pretty ass kn the couch. “Why talk now? It’s like 1:24 am.” I glance at the clock that sits above our stove.

“I’m sorry I lashed out on you.” He says.

“I love you, and I care about you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” I insisted. The microwave goes off. My food is ready.

We let the food go off. Nico picks me up from the couch. He rubs me over to the bed we share. I had bought this body oil from Victoria’s Secret because it smelt good. Naturally I thought I could put it in my hair, but of course Nico had different plans.

“Turn, clothes. Off.” He sighs as he catches his breath from running around. He slides his sweatpants off, keeps his shirt on.

He spanks my ass. I can feel the stinging pain throughout my whole body.

“Makeup sex to distract me?” I laugh.

“Is it working?” Nico asks as he puts a towel down near my body. He opens the plastic bottle. Pouring the cold oil onto my back he massages into me.

Glitter specks and the rich perfume fragrance fills the room. I feel slippery.

“My turn.” I say. No hesitation I get up and push Nico down. I tear his shirt off of him. Leaving him with his boxers on. I look down motioning to take them off.

He does.

I see a very large cock perked up towards me.

“Gross.” I laugh as turn around to take my bra and tight thing off.

I let Nico lay on his forearms as I run the oil around his abs. He sucks on my hard nippples as I massage the oil into his warm body. I jump onto him. Straddling him, my back facing his face. He pulls me forwards.

I slip, falling face first onto his dick.

I suck o to his cock, Nico lays back, pulling my legs apart, setting them next to his ears.

My pussy opens for him right on his face. He licks every inch of me, I feel a spurt come into my mouth as I suck harder. He jolts yo and down telling me to stop. I can’t.

~

He thrusts harder into me. Pushing his top into my lungs. I feel very heartbeat from his cock into my own pussy.

He pulls out, letting his cum squirt outside of me. I lay flat on my back waiting for him. He pushes three fingers inside and I can feel him wiggle the around looking for something to tease me with.

He lets the oil smother me. The towel wets my hair from all of the oil that pooled into the crevasses of the linen.

Nico takes his fingers out of me and stuffs it I tibuso mouth. Sucking his fingers clean he kisses me. Shoving his tounge down my throat. Massaging every bit of my mouth with his.

I feel his stubble rub against my face. I enjoy knowing he thinks I’ll forget all of the argument within the 19 minute blowjob.

I feel his cock fall onto my lap.

“This should be here, I should be in here.” I pull Nico’s face off of mine. I grab his cock and push it off of my skin, I point to my ribs.

Nico laughs, he thrusts once inside of me, he grips onto my hair falling just to me after he finishes inside me.

Once again he pumps himself into me. This time I do feel him in my ribs.

~

“Goodnight.” I say as I pick up my clean towel and I get in the shower.

“You’re not sleeping in here? Can I shower with you?” Nico runs after me, rubbing my lower stomach.

“I’m tired.” I grunt. And I walk away. “You can shower after me.” I wink as I leave to turn on the hot water.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 24 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When you struggle with your feelings about your totaled car, Bradley realizes that there's more to your reaction than meets the eye. You and he are a team, and he uses his words and actions to let you know that's never going to change for him.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, mentions of trying to get pregnant

Length: 4600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, give me a call back. The car is totaled."

Bradley groaned, "Oh no. Absolutely not." Then he listened to the message over and over again, trying to detect if maybe he'd misheard the update from the mechanic. But apparently he'd heard it clear as day. Totaled. He'd totaled your ancient, little car by having rough sex with you in the backseat. Nobody had even been driving it at the time. 

Bradley snorted and then started laughing. He'd totaled your whole goddamn car by fucking you too hard. He had to turn and go back out into the hallway so you didn't see him while you were in line for your lunch in the cafeteria, because you definitely wouldn't be laughing when he broke the news to you. While he may have found your car to be tiny, uncomfortable and possibly possessed, you loved it more than almost anything else you owned.

"I fucked my wife so good, I broke her car," he said out loud as he got all of his laughter out. He had to bite his knuckle as he entered the cafeteria and grabbed a tray, loading it up with food. Then he took one last deep breath and turned toward the table filled with all of his aviator friends plus his wife. 

You were just about to bite into your hot sauce soaked burrito bowl when Bradley felt a pang of regret. He couldn't tell you down here in front of everyone else. "Hey, Sweetheart?" he asked, and you looked up at him with a smile. "Any chance we could go up to your office for a little privacy?"

Jake and Nat both looked up from their lunches and smirked, and Jake even went so far as to wolf whistle at Bradley. "Absolutely," you told him as you got to your feet, ignoring everyone else at the table. Then Bradley had to have an awkward ride up on the elevator while he held his lunch tray and listened to you whisper some seriously filthy things in his ear while you held your bowl. 

Any other day, he'd be into it. No problem. But while his cock stirred as you unlocked your office door, he cleared his throat. You looked up at him with narrowed eyes as the door swung open. "What's wrong?" you asked. "You didn't like the dirty talk? Or you don't want me to get on all fours on my desk?"

"Fuck," he groaned, ushering you inside where he set all the food down and then sank into your chair. He patted his thigh before rubbing his hand over face. "No, of course I like the dirty talk, Baby Girl. And I love getting you on all fours," he said as you looked at him in confusion. "Just have a seat. We need to talk."

"We need to talk? Jesus, Bradley. Now you're scaring me," you said without taking a seat on his lap. Instead, your hands went to your hips as your wary gaze flitted all over his face.

He sighed. "Your car is totaled."

You simply blinked at him for a long time as if his words were spoken in a language completely foreign to you. Then your face fell as you whispered, "What?"

This time when he patted his thigh and reached out, you came willingly, collapsing into him. He ran his thumb across your name tag where you'd added his last name to yours, and he kissed your cheek. "The mechanic called me. He said it's totaled, Sweetheart."

You instantly burst into tears. "No," you moaned. "No. He has to fix it. He's just saying it's totaled, because the repairs cost more than the car is worth. Right?"

Bradley kissed your cheeks and swiped your tears away, and now he felt like an ass for laughing so hard earlier. "I'm not sure, but we can talk to him after work, okay? We'll stop over there and see what's going on."

He rubbed your back as you sucked in deep breath after deep breath, but you nodded against his neck. "Okay," you agreed softly. 

Bradley held you as your lunches got cold, and when he arrived back at the tower fifteen minutes late, he did his hundred push ups without complaint. As he did them, he came to terms with the fact that he'd pay whatever amount of money it took to repair your piece of shit car if it was even a remote possibility. Because even though he loathed it, you loved it. And he loved you.

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

You knew deep down that it was ridiculous to be upset over a twenty year old totaled car, but you just simply were. It was the only car you'd ever owned, and you bought it used when you were eighteen. The thing had more miles on it than you could count, and it was starting to leak coolant. But you'd driven it across the country when you moved to California, and it always drove like a dream for you. 

Or it did until Bradley ripped a hole in it with his big, booted foot. That sex was toe curlingly good, too. Right there in San Diego International parking garage C. You wanted to moan just thinking about it, because Bradley had come home to you with so much need in his eyes, it left you shuddering. But now you were currently giving him a bit of a cold shoulder as he drove you to talk to the mechanic. You just needed a few minutes with your thoughts. Your parents would be arriving in a few days, and you'd be down a car if he truly wouldn't be able to repair it.

"We're here," Bradley whispered, shaking you from your thoughts. You hopped out and made a beeline for your car which was parked near the entrance to the building. It looked fine to you from the outside. Perfect, even. But when you looked in the window where the center console had been completely removed, you pawed at the glass and whimpered. 

"What did he do to you?" When you saw Bradley's reflection to your left, you turned to glare. "Did you do it on purpose?" Your husband looked at you with surprise on his face, and you had to try your hardest not to roll your eyes. "Did you, Roo? Because I know you hate this car."

"How would I have possibly done this on purpose, Sweetheart? You were the one outright demanding that I fuck you harder. You told me to several times." Now he looked annoyed with his hands on his hips.

You crossed your arms over your chest. "So what? You want me to tell you that you're a good lay? You're a good lay, Roo, okay? Yes, I wanted you to go harder. Yes, I missed you desperately while you were away, and I couldn't wait a minute longer, just like you. But did you really have to plant your foot right there and practically rip the car in half while you got me off?!"

You were gesturing wildly at your car when you heard a throat clear, and you and Bradley both turned to see the pink faced mechanic who now couldn't make eye contact with you. "Great," you muttered knowing he'd heard you arguing. 

"Well... I was going to ask how you managed to mess the car up this badly," he said, looking through the windshield. "First time I've heard that one..."

But you didn't even care what he thought as you went into bargaining mode as Bradley slipped his hand around your waist. "Can't you just fix it? I don't even care if it's considered totaled. I'll pay for the repairs out of pocket." You were pleading with your hands clasped in front of you. "You can fix it, right?"

Before he even started shaking his head, you could see the light dim in his eyes. It was over as he told you, "Sorry, but I couldn't if I tried. The parts no longer exist for this model year, and it still wouldn't pass inspection."

"It wouldn't?" you asked, your voice tiny and pathetic. 

The mechanic sighed and took some pity on you as Bradley rubbed your back. "If I were to weld it back together, there would be no guarantee that the steel wouldn't buckle while you were driving it. The hole where the console was is just that extensive. It would not be safe. And your gearbox is hanging on by a thread. I'm shocked you were even able to drive it here from Coronado."

You wiped at your eyes as the tears returned. "It was such a good car," you gasped, turning to fling yourself at Bradley. "It was the best."

He let you cry in his arms for the second time today as he quietly asked the mechanic how much you owed him. "Oh... it's on the house. I can appreciate how much she loved and took care of her car. That's a rare quality in a person."

You turned to look at him and nodded, thankful for this like minded individual. "Thank you."

When Bradley started asking him if he could take care of disposing of your most beloved possession, you opened the door and sank down into the driver's seat. You ran your fingers along the steering wheel, and you adjusted the rearview mirror. You jiggled the broken shifter, and you looked down at the ground through the gigantic hole in the middle of your car. 

"Fuck," you groaned. A soft laugh bubbled out through your sadness. Bradley really did this with his foot and his desire to make you both orgasm. You looked at him through the windshield, and he kept turning to check on you while he and the mechanic chatted.

You were still quietly turning the knobs and playing with your turn signals for the last time when Bradley walked around to the door and knelt down to talk to you. "Sweetheart, I really am sorry."

"I know you are," you whispered softly, memorizing the perfect spin of the volume dial between your thumb and index finger.

He reached for your hand as he said, "He can have it towed for scraps later this week. I told him you might like to be here to say goodbye one last time when that happens."

You nodded and started sobbing. "I would like that. Yes."

"Come here," he replied, pulling you out of the car and into a big hug. "Let's grab a reusable bag out of the Bronco and clean everything out of here. Then I'll take you home."

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

You moped all evening. You moped the next day, too. On Wednesday, Bradley could tell you were still upset. Even the news that Bob was moving in with Maria barely cheered you up. When Cat told you at lunch that Jake helped her find a good lawyer to help her fight her ex husband's debt collectors, you smiled and gave her a hug. But then you got quiet again.

"Nat's begging me to go to the Hard Deck tonight," he told you as you made dinner in absolutely nothing but his old shirt. 

"You can go ahead," you told him without glancing in his direction.

"I'm not going without you," he replied. When you didn't respond, he added, "Baby Girl, I can only apologize so many times." He kissed your neck from behind and let his hand settle on your hip. "I'm really sorry." 

Just the softest little noise from you and the light brush of your body back against his had him getting shamelessly hard. He rubbed one big hand around to the front of you, skimming your breasts and coming to settle low on your belly. You turned off the stove and sighed. "I'm not even horny right now, Roo."

"You're usually always horny," he whispered, feeling slightly selfish and also even more concerned about how upset you were. 

"Well, right now I'm too sad. I'm feeling very emotional over this. I know it's dumb, okay? I know that. But I loved my car."

"I'll make it up to you," he promised. He'd been asking you all week to start looking for something new, but he wasn't sure you actually had. "We can get another used car that would be similar. Or you can get the newest model year of your old car. Or you can get something else."

You spun in his arms and looked him in the eye. "Everything is expensive, and I'll be lucky to even get a couple hundred bucks from the salvage yard. And... a new car would eat away at the money I was hoping to save. Just in case. You know?"

But he didn't know what you were talking about, and he was slightly afraid to ask. "Money for what, Sweetheart?"

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you said, "In case there's something wrong with me." Bradley pulled you closer, and you mumbled against his shoulder, "In case we need to pay for treatment. Fertility treatment. Or an adoption lawyer."

Now you were crying again, and Bradley felt a little sense of panic, too. You were right. All of that would be very, very expensive, but he hadn't even considered that this might be weighing on your mind at the moment. You shouldn't be thinking about it alone. "Is this what's been bothering you?" he asked gently. 

"Kind of," you whispered. "I loved my car, and it was running great, and I just didn't think we'd have to buy a new one yet, you know?"

"Listen," he said, trying to remind you that you weren't alone in any of this. "We're a team. An absolutely kickass team. But we aren't even at that point yet. And I've saved a lot of money since we got married." The honeymoon had cost a small fortune, but at least there were almost no costs related to the actual wedding. His savings accounts were looking healthier these days. "We can cross that bridge when we get to it, but we aren't there yet, okay?"

"I know we're not. But the thoughts creep in sometimes."

There had never been a truer statement spoken to Bradley. Acknowledging it would hurt, but ignoring it would be worse. "Yes, they do. But mostly I'm just trying to focus on how much I love you, so if you decide what kind of car you want, we'll make it happen. Now may I suggest we eat dinner and then head out to the Hard Deck just for a bit? Take our minds off of things?"

You agreed to go, but on the way there, you told him, "I think we should cancel the hotel room for my parents. They can just stay with us when they fly in on Friday night."

Bradley tightened his grip on the steering wheel. It's not that he didn't want them to stay at the house, it's just that he wanted to be able to be as fucking loud with you as he wanted to be. If you wanted to be loud. "Sweetheart, the hotel is already booked."

"Yes. It is. It's also expensive. My mom thinks you got the room with points last time!"

There was no sense in arguing with you about this right now either, because you were right. He pulled into the Hard Deck parking lot and killed the engine. "Come here," he coaxed, and you were soon on his lap even though you looked less than happy. "We'll cancel the hotel room. They can stay with us. It's not a big deal at all, and I'd love to have them around anyway. But I do think we should talk about finishing the attic into another bedroom or two, just so there's a little more separation for when they visit."

"But that's also expensive-" 

He cut you off with a kiss so gentle, you gasped. "You need to stop talking about it," he whispered, his fingers trailing up and down the back of your neck. "We can get you any car you want. And if we need money later, I can always sell the Bronco."

You gasped, pulling yourself away from him so rapidly, your elbow hit the horn making him laugh. "I don't want you to do that!"

The way you looked so scandalized was a true testament to how well you loved him. "I don't particularly want to either, Sweetheart, but it's always an option. She's worth a lot of money."

"No," you replied firmly. "I'll look for a new car, but we're not getting rid of this one."

"We won't have to," he whispered, tangling his fingers up with yours as the two of you headed into the bar where his friends cheered when they saw him. And now you had a smile on your face as you went to the bar to order two of your favorite beers.

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

"You know, Jake is really starting to piss me off," Bradley said on Friday morning as he got ready for work. 

"Why?" you asked as you put your contacts in. "I mean, besides the usual reasons."

You watched him mess with his phone before he set it on the counter and started to shave around his mustache. "Because we have a busy weekend with your parents, and Jake was supposed to set up a tee time for golf tomorrow morning. I just talked to him about this at work yesterday, and now he's not answering my texts asking about the details. I wanted to text your dad the plan since he's been asking."

"Oh," you said, frozen with your mascara in your hand. "Jake got a new phone number. He didn't tell you?"

Bradley pouted at your reflection in the mirror as he shaved. "No. He didn't tell me. I've been texting the same number like an idiot! Who in their right mind changes their phone number?! That's like something elderly people just suddenly do!"

You pressed your lips together to try to stifle your laughter. "Okay, yes, it does give off an elderly person vibe, but Jake did it for Cat since he was getting a lot of unsolicited texts."

"Whatever," Bradley growled, clearly annoyed to be the last one to find out. "Are you still getting Padres tickets for Sunday afternoon for the four of us?"

"Yes, I was planning on it," you replied cautiously. You were pretty sure he was still in a mood over the fact that your parents, who would be landing in San Diego later today, were staying at the house with you until they flew back home late on Tuesday night. But this way you'd be saving over a thousand dollars to use for the new car you hadn't picked out yet. "If you want to."

Bradley rinsed his razor and his face before patting himself dry, and then he leaned in to gently kiss you where you stood in front of your own sink. "I want to. I'm sorry I'm cranky. Jake and his stupid phone number pissed me off, and I'm still upset that I broke your entire damn car." He kissed you harder this time as his hand drifted down to squeeze your butt. "But I'm over it now. I love you. Your ass looks so fucking good in your uniform pants. I'm going to have some coffee."

Luckily his mood continued to improve as he drove you to work with him, and when he took your hand in his, he said, "After work, we will attend your car's funeral. Then we can stop home before we pick your parents up from the airport, during which time I will put the clean bedding on the extra bed."

"Sounds good, Roo," you murmured, your mood all mixed up as you looked out the window. Car shopping was a hassle, because you didn't want a new car. And you were excited that your parents would be here for Independence Day, but you also thought you were starting to get crampy. "Thank you," you added, reaching for your husband's hand, trying to remind yourself to focus on the things in your life that were important. 

Work was quiet. It seemed like a lot of people had taken off for the holiday weekend, but you and Bradley had opted to take Monday off instead. You were enjoying the nearly silent solitude of your lab as you double checked Cat's calculations before submitting them when you heard Bickel behind you. When he cleared his throat, you nearly jumped out of your seat. 

"Lieutenant Commander, meet me in my office when you have time."

"I have time right now, Sir," you told him, saving your work and closing your computer. He was silent as you followed him down the hallway and a sense of foreboding took over, because Bickel was always chatty with you. Mentally you raked through everything you'd submitted this week, but nothing was jumping out to you as a potential problem. "Is everything okay?" you asked as you closed his office door behind you. 

"Of course," he said, pausing briefly before he settled into his desk chair. "I just wanted to see how you've been getting on?"

You sat down opposite his desk and blinked at him a few times in confusion. "Sir?"

He cleared his throat. "It's been a bit since I checked in with you. Just wanted to make sure things are going well, and to remind you that you can always visit me or Dr. Genevieve again if you feel so inclined."

"Oh," you replied, heat flooding your face even though you knew you had nothing to be embarrassed about. You swallowed and told him, "I actually met with Dr. Genevieve a few times, so thank you for pointing me in her direction."

"Good, good," he replied, tapping a folder on his desk. "Now, we've been offered additional funding for our lab. So how do you feel about preparing another presentation that will knock everyone's socks off in Annapolis?"

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

Bradley spent his afternoon in the rec room with the other aviators, but he sat off to the side with a sheet of paper and a pen. Other than Bob politely interrupting him to ask if Bradley would be willing to help him move his things into your old apartment with Maria, everyone left him to finish what he was working on. He was doing it for you, same as everything else he did.

When it was time to leave for the day, he tucked the paper into his uniform pants pocket and went to meet you at the Bronco. A few minutes later, you came running out with your bag and a smile on your face. "What happened?" he asked, automatically smiling too. 

You practically jumped into his arms as you gushed, "Bickel all but told me he's handpicked me to take over his lab when he retires! Oh, and I have to go back to Annapolis."

His heart leapt with joy for you as he kissed your forehead, then he considered your second sentence. "Wait. Annapolis? Like... permanently?"

"No," you told him with a laugh. "Just a few days at the end of the month or early August."

"Right," he said with relief. "I'm really fucking proud of you, Baby Girl. And when you go to Maryland, you can visit your parents again."

"Maybe I'll even get another tattoo," you told him as you tossed your back onto the backseat.

"Seriously?" he asked, walking you around to the passenger side door and buckling you in. "What would you get?"

You ran your hand along your arm before pulling him closer. "Probably a whole sleeve of little roosters," you told him between kisses. 

He rolled his eyes knowing that was a longshot and a half. "Let's get to your car's funeral," he whispered, and you nodded like you'd finally come to terms with everything that happened. 

The ride over was quiet, and when Bradley pulled into the lot, the crew from the salvage lot was already there, ready to take it away. 

"Oh no," you gasped, practically jumping out before he put it in park. "They can't take it until I say goodbye!"

Bradley hopped out and followed you across the pavement to where the two men were about to load the little, red piece of shit onto the flatbed along with two other completely wrecked cars. The mechanic was already there holding up a hand to have them pause when you reached your car. Bradley watched you run your hand down the windshield and along the hood in reverence. And he finally kind of got it; this is how he'd feel if something suddenly happened to the Bronco. When he looked at things from that perspective, your tears were absolutely warranted.

"Can I have everyone's attention?" Bradley asked, clearing his throat as you and the mechanic and both guys in matching jumpsuits from the salvage company turned to look at him. "I just wanted to say a few words." He pulled the sheet of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. 

"Roo?" you asked, coming to stand a little closer to him. He kissed your cheek before he started to read.

"Most everyone has to say goodbye to a loved one in their lifetime. Some goodbyes are harder than others, but none of them are easy. I know this little red shit pile doesn't look like much, but my wife loved it so hard and for so long, it deserves a proper send off."

Bradley looked up from his paper to see that you had tears in your eyes, but you weren't the only one. The mechanic was also swiping at his cheeks, and the other two men had removed their hats and placed them over their hearts.

"Perhaps the most annoying and yet respectable thing about this car is the fact that it always preferred my wife over anyone else. Especially me. It was a most faithful companion, always getting her where she needed to go with almost zero trunk space yet amazing fuel economy. It got her to work every day like an economical champ, never putting up any sort of fuss for her, and for that we are thankful."

"Oh, Roo," you gasped, smiling through your tears, but he wasn't yet finished.

"It is with my deepest sympathy that we sent this automotive marvel off to the salvage yard today. Has any other car that looked this ugly and had this many miles ever been such a perfect companion? I'd like to think that the answer is no. I'd like to believe that my wife in all her damn near perfection got to own the kind of car that people only dream about... the one that gave back as much love as it was given." Bradley laid a hand on the trunk as he read, "Thank you, hideous little car, for being there for one of the best moments of my life. Thank you for looking on with locked doors as she kissed me in the Bronco for the first time. Thank you for allowing Nat to intentionally steal your keys away from her so that she would one day marry me. You had a very good life, and you will be missed. And I'm sorry for pushing so hard that I put my boot through you... but what a way to go out. Cheers."

"Cheers," you sobbed in unison with the three men who were also gathered closeby. Then you threw your arms around Bradley's neck and cried.

"That was so beautiful. Thank you."

"I love you, Sweetheart," he promised, rubbing your back as the two of you watched your car take its final bow.

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

Rest in peace shitty, little car. You were a real one. Any guesses on her new ride? Coming up next, a visit from her parents, a new car, and sooo much more to be excited about. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 25

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@sagittarius-flowerchild

[wellofdean]

I read your post about Supernatural being queer somehow from season 1 and I have two questions.

1. Don't you think it straight-appropriates the word "queer" to say it just means "not normal"? That argument seems disingenuous to me, and a lot of us want representation, and to see that word applied to explicit depiction of queer sexuality, and it's a cheat that they don't. Queer studies did start as the study of queer sexualities and the experience of queer people.

2. Are you saying that the makers of Supernatural intended for it to be "flesh on queer bones"? Do you think they intentionally sat down to tell a queer story?

Those are good questions my anonymous friend. Thank you for asking. Here are my thoughts:

To answer your first question: no, I don't think it appropriates anything. Here's why: firstly, if we're talking about sexuality and gender, it's queer 101 that no one owes anyone a justification of their queerness, and not everyone who is queer is interested in labeling it or making it legible to you, and they have no obligation to do so, and not doing so doesn't make them any less queer. Furthermore, some people who are queer are not interested in sex, so what about them?

All of that together is why, for me, the entire queer project is much more deeply about non-compliance with hegemony, and specifically with hegemony around gender roles, sexuality and to put it under a big umbrella, patriarchy, than it is about who you fuck. Those things extend into so many other aspects of life that I think you can easily talk about "queering" a very wide range of topics, and possibly? ANY TOPIC.

You are responding to this post, I think, and in it, I made a choice to talk about family and hunting, and our heroes roles and characterizations in that, and did not talk about gender shenanigans or sexuality, because my point was that even before we get to anything to do with it, Sam and Dean are immersed in a queered world in a fundamental, structural way. That said, I assure you that if you go back into season 1 of Supernatural, you will find LOADS that could be said about gender and sexuality, too. As well as other things, and a particularly important area, as @ironworked pointed out in the tags, is blue collar/white collar class issues.

As I said, the depth of queerness in Supernatural is actually dizzying just in terms of the story's BONES to say nothing of how they flesh it out. Queerness is about deviation from the norm. It's about rebellion and disobedience against hegemonic systems for the sake of personal authenticity and love.

Think about Cas for a minute. Cas's whole story is that he rejects his role in a hegemonic heaven. He rebels for love, and that is pretty explicit as early as season 4 when he tells Dean "We're making it up as we go". Fellas, that is THE QUEEREST SHIT EVER even if he didn't do it for Dean, and like... HE DID IT FOR DEAN. Cas did not have to tell Dean he loved him for me to know it, and for Cas to be a deeply queered character. When he DID say it, I wasn't the least bit surprised he was in love with Dean, because seriously, we been knew. I was only surprised I got to have the immense pleasure of hearing him say it and looking at Dean's face while he took it in. Jesus. I will NEVER RECOVER.

This is my perspective on representation in Supernatural: It's excellent, and I relate to, and feel seen by it as a queer person. Nobody needs to get fucked on the maps table for me to do the math that this is a queer story. It is very, very, very thoroughgoingly canonically queer in so many ways, and not all of them are to do with sex. I think some fans will only allow it to be called queer if dudes make out in it. I am not one of those fans.

As to your second question, I think there is a wealth of evidence in the filmic oeuvre of Eric Kripke to suggest that as an artist and a writer, he is concerned or maybe even preoccupied with masculinity issues and issues around family, and around the way patriarchy fucks men up. So, yes. I think he knew what he was doing and he knew that queerness was part of the mix. For fucks sake, it's a family of men who hunt monsters. That is very fucking on the nose. Do I think he kicked off Supernatural in 2005 planning a 15 year operatic queer romance between Cas and Dean? No. I don't think anyone planned for it to go as long as it did, and it's a matter of record that some things were influenced by fan response, actors' chemistry, different writers and showrunners' preferences and etc. What I will say is that when they had a choice to "straighten shit out" or lean into the queerness, they fucking leaned in, nearly EVERY TIME. Like, it's pretty amazing how consistently they lean the fuck in.

I'll admit -- I wasn't watching it with those eyes the first time, and I didn't give it much real estate in my mind when I watched it as it aired from 2006 to the end, but the last three episodes reshaped it for me and made me angry, and also made me need to watch it all again, this time with an explicitly queer lens, and BOY HOWDY let me tell you this: the Supernatch rewatch journey is a wild and wonderful trip to Queertown. It is legit more difficult to argue that Dean is straight than it is to argue that he is queer. There is a full on CORNUCOPIA of story evidence to support that read and relatively little that convincingly counters it on the straight side, and that starts right at the beginning, when they bend pretty baby Dean over a police car in episode one, and he smirks insouciantly in his lip gloss. Do I think everyone involved knew how that looked? Sexy, submissive and a bit gay?

YES I DO.

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗 ║ ❝𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧❜𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞❞

(A/n) ➳ This was supposed to be out on Monday!! I seriously need to get this straight because I know you guys have waited a while and I thank you for your patience.  

Word Count ➳ 2k  

Content Warnings ➳ Heavy profanity, drug trafficking, small mention of murder, mentions of infidelity, talks of proposing/marriage, blackmail, threats of violence, reader is referred to as little lady…

JUDAS Masterlist 

YOU THREW DARYL’S BAG OVER YOUR SHOULDER WITH A HUFF. 

You never took Daryl to be materialistic, so it surprised you when the bag had a heavy weight on it. Now that you were thinking about it, you weren’t even sure it was Daryl’s bag you were carrying.  

It was passed to you when his brother loaded a drunk Daryl into the back of your car. He handed you, shoved, the bag and a pat on the back. His gaze felt weird and cold, but his sinister smile told a different story.  

“Some shit for his damn work.” Merle scoffed, laughing at the sight of his little brother slumped in your car. “Don’ be pokin’ yer nose ‘round where it don’ belong.” 

And you took his words seriously. Anyone would’ve believed his words were harmless or that he was trying to look out for you, but you saw them as a threat.  

You recognized a man like Merle, the countless stories from Shane and Rick explaining how they caught the perp and what made them suspicious. How they acted around certain strangers, how they walked, talked, subtle movements...  

You breathed a sigh of relief when you made it back to your apartment. You sat the bag down next to the pile of shoes by your door, and relieving the weight from your shoulder made you groan.  

“Daryl?” You called out to him, tossing your keys into a small bowl. Your apartment was eerily quiet. “I got your bag!”  

You walked into the living room, but he wasn’t sitting on your couch. The mug of coffee that he had was washed and dried and put back into its cupboard with the rest of the cups.  

You searched the rest of your apartment rather desperately as your mind started to spiral. There was no sign of Daryl, he even took the shirt that you borrowed from him. It was like your place was scrubbed clean of him, your only evidence of his presence or self was his bag. 

You cursed numerous times as you dialed his number, but when it went to voicemail... It couldn’t be. You paced around your apartment as you ranted into your phone, begging for questions and when you stopped, you started all over again.  

You must’ve left a dozen voicemails before you froze at the sound of a crunch and a stinging sensation coming from the bottom of your foot. You hung up the voicemail and looked under your foot and found a piece of plastic, a piece of Daryl’s phone.  

“What the fuck?”  

Daryl chewed on his nails as Merle and Leah loaded the truck with crates upon crates. He knew it was going to be a massive payday, bigger than previous jobs combined, but if things went wrong, he wouldn’t see the light of day ever again. 

His hand reached for his pocket where he’d phone was but groaned when he remembered the phone call with Negan. Did it matter though? He already removed himself from your apartment, no way of connecting him to you in case anything happens.  

But he wondered about your reaction to coming back to your empty apartment. The guilt gnawed at him as he didn’t leave anything, not even a cryptic note for you to find. 

He jumped when he heard pounding on the back of the truck. “We’re ready to go.” Leah hopped in the passenger seat. “Start drivin’.” 

Daryl turned the key in the ignition and drove out of the abandoned farmhouse and onto the road. It was nearly midnight, and he was trying to race to get the crates to Negan on time.  

Leah looked over the message. “Simon gonna meet us there?” He asked, trying to focus on the task and keeping himself calm.  

She shook her head, clicking her tongue. “Simon AND Negan.”  

Daryl felt his heart drop to his stomach, and he slammed on the brakes, the truck coming to a sudden stop which startled Leah. “The hell ya mean Negan gon’ be there?!”  

Leah turned to him, her face scrunched up in anger. “You deaf or somethin’? Thought Merle had told you.” She rolled her eyes at his confused face. “Negan’s wife has cancer, he needs these damn crates.”  

“Ya believe him?”  

“You think he’d lie ‘bout some shit like cancer? The same wife that he’d do antyhin’ for her?”  

“The same wife he cheated on.” Daryl retorted. “And refused to get a damn job for!” He clenched the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. “Negan ain’t gonna forgive me, imma dead man if he sees me.” He uttered, looking back at the road. 

She placed her hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze. “I won’t let him get close to you, I promise.” 

“Ya can’t promise shit, Leah.” He shoved her hand off his arm.  

“But I can promise you that I’ll do anythin’ to get you home safe, back to your fiancée.”  

Daryl grumbled some words under his breath, turning away from Leah but she managed to catch a blush growing. “Pop the question to her yet? Or too much of a coward?” 

“...Haven’t found the right time to.”  

“Or you’re scared.” Leah then laughed. “You are!”  

“Piss off!” Daryl quickly took his foot off the break and continued to drive.  

She kept snickering. “Keep trying for an hour or two and I’ll take over.” She said as she opened another phone. “Then you can think of ways to propose.”  

Leah stayed true to her word, after an hour of driving, she made Daryl hand over the wheel, and they traded places. He slumped in the seat, staring out the window as the music Leah chose played in the background.  

He thought back to you. When was the perfect time to propose? After he apologized for disappearing? No, he had to remain off the grid for a couple of weeks, maybe months before he went back to you.  

Would you forgive him for disappearing for so long? Maybe, he always had a way with words, and he knew how much of a sucker you were for his voice.  

But it didn’t matter how much he worried or panicked, the thought of you brough a smile to his face, that he covered with his hand before Leah could see.  

Eventually, his decision to remain awake most of the night was a bad one. Exhaustion overtook him and he let himself drift off to sleep. But his peaceful slumber was cut short by the sound of Leah’s attempt at keeping quiet.  

“Yes." Leah was saying, her voice was low but trying to sound convincing. “Everythin’s fine.”  

Daryl rubbed his eyes, letting out a groan. “Who?” He mumbled.  

Leah glanced at him. “Jus’ go back to sleep. It's nothin’.”  

But Daryl knew better than to listen to her. “Who the hell is it, Leah?” 

Leah choked on her words for a second before answering. “It’s Negan.” She responded then turned her attention back on Negan. “I don’t think- okay, I will.”  

She handed the phone to Daryl who took it. “Negan.” He greeted. 

“Daryl! I thought I wouldn’t hear back from my favorite delivery boy!” Negan’s voice boomed though the phone, obnoxiously loud, and a mix of cockiness and twisted amusement.  

“Jus’ makin’ sure those crates are safe. We can’t afford any slip-ups, now can we?” He chuckled.  

“They’re safe. We’re on our way.”  

Negan continued to chuckle, the sound sending shivers down Daryl’s back. “Good, good. From what road Leah happily told me, it’s an easy street! You might go home on time to that little lady of yours. What was her name again?” 

Daryl's grip on the phone tightened. “What ‘bout ‘er?” 

“Oh, not much.” Negan drawled. “Jus’ that she lives on a nice, quiet street. easy to find. Easy to visit.”  

Daryl clenched his jaw. “You stay the hell away from ‘er.” He warned.  

“Relax, Daryl! I'm only messin’ with you.” Negan laughed but Daryl could tell his laughter was cold and unnerving.  

“I swear, Negan. Ya do anythin’ to ‘er-” 

“Hand the phone back to Leah.” Negan interrupted, his tone turning serious again.  

Daryl passed the phone back to Leah, seething. “Yes, Negan.” She confirmed again. “Everything is fine.” 

Then the line went dead. She tossed her phone onto the dashboard and huffed. “We’re fine.” 

“We’re fucked.”  

The spot Negan chose was secluded, far enough away from prying eyes but still unsettling in its location. Daryl felt like everything was closing all around him, how he felt like at any moment, something was going to pop out of the trees.  

Daryl parked the truck and stepped out, his eyes scanning the open area for any sign of Negan or Simon.  

Negan’s van pulled up shortly after, and his men went right to work. Leah stepped out of the truck as well when she saw Negan coming by.  

“Took you all long enough.” Negan commented as Leah stood next to him. His men moved quickly when getting the crates out of the truck and into his van. “Was there trouble on the road?”  

“No.” Leah replied, arms crossed, watching the men rather than looking at Negan. “Jus’ took us longer than before, I didn’t think you’d demand so much... Crates.”  

“That’s a funny way to say drugs.” Negan commented, hands in his leather jacket pockets.  

“I’m jus’ actin’ cautious-” 

“Bullshit.”  

Daryl remained by the truck, watching Negan’s men and Simon come and go from the truck. His eyes turned to Negan and Leah approaching him, his heart raced as he sat up.  

“Well, well, well. If it ain’t Daryl Dixon, how have you been?” Negan questioned and Daryl knew it was a false act, trying to get under his skin or mess with his head. He handed an envelope to Leah who then passed it to Daryl. “The agreed amount. Plus, a little bonus for being such a good delivery boy.”  

He took the envelope, his fingers brushing against the fresh and crisp bills inside. He didn’t need to count it to know that it was more than what they had agreed to. He looked up at Negan rather suspiciously.  

“Thanks, Daryl.” Negan said, his tone was almost honest and friendly. “Consider it a little token of appreciation or an investment. I’m thinkin’ of keepin’ you on for a couple more months. I’m sure your brother wouldn’t mind.”  

“Ya can’t-” 

Negan cut him off with a raised hand. “Ah, ah. No need to thank me. Jus’ make sure the next delivery is jus’ as smooth. Buy your little lady a gift, I’m sure she’s dyin’ to hear from you, Dixon.” 

With a final smirk and a pat on Daryl’s and Leah’s shoulders, Negan strode off. “Let’s go boys! Cops are sure to hell come!”  

His men quickly loaded the remaining crates and within moments, Negan’s van disappeared, leaving the two of them standing by the truck.  

 “We need to go to.” They climbed back into the truck and Daryl started the engine, driving away from the spot.  

As Daryl drove, Leah peeked in the envelope. “I bet it’s more than what those crates are worth.” She awed. 

Daryl glanced at the amount, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Think it’s enough for a ring?” He asked her.  

Leah nodded. “I’m sure she’s gonna be fine with whatever you give her.”  

“It can’t be fine, it’s gotta be fuckin’ amazing.”  

Daryl kept his eyes on the road, but the thought of you in Negan’s hands angered him. He couldn’t allow you to get involved with what he was in, he had to get business taken care of and fast.  

His mind raced as with many thoughts, but his mission was clear, he was going to see this through and protect what mattered most to him.  

You.  

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.  

Taglist ➳ @deansapplepie , @ladylincoln , @gamingfeline , @lady06reaper , @alanamarie , @daryldixmedown , @celtic-crossbow , @mrdixon , @itwasntaphasema , @duffmckagansbandana , @raspberryslxt , @itsrainingbisexualfrogs , @ingstadstarlight , @gamingfeline , @lor-geeked , @thegeorgiahuntsman , @snailss , @the-lonely-abyss , @number1bashbabe , @xmaeyonaiise , @suniloli , @of-storms-and-sadness , @annhells , @sexyxdylanxobrien , @mylifeinthetardisforever , @let-love-bleeds-red , @virginsexgod69 , @scudslut , @devilxbug , @theesexystallion ,  @yondus-girl , @raoudixs , @tremendousstarlighttragedy , @skulliecadaver-blog , @remusmuse ,  @natswhoore , @4-chan-inpadella , @blairespandora , @bigbaldheadname , @bae-live-0 , @d0p3ys-delusions , @lovelylovebites , @lettersfromyourlover-blog ,  

⊰ Chapter 8 ⊰ » » YOU’RE HERE « « ⊰ Chapter 10 ⊰ 

[prettyrenjunn]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫

haechan x f!reader

themes- best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff & crack

summary- haechan gets unnecessarily jealous a lot considering you’re just little ole’ best friends and it takes renjun pointing it out for him to realise.

it’s my first time writing like this i wanted to try it out but damn it’s hard. also if there’s mistakes… my bad

he’s ridiculous.

you think he might need a smack to the back of his head to finally come to his senses but you keep your hands to yourself, no matter how infuriating he is. “hyuck there’s nothing to be upset over.”

he’s going to deny it. he always does. “i’m not upset!” he grumbled back. “i just don’t understand why you and jeno were partners when we’re always partners.”

you can’t even fathom why he’s so upset you had a different partner for your friend groups game night but for some reason he always gets like this. you know donghyuck’s a clinger and he loves to be by your side with your attention on him as much as possible but god you were sick of this. “i’m not seeing the problem? i can partner up with whoever i want its not like we took a blood oath to always partner with eachother.”

it always goes like this until he gets frustrated and eventually..

“okay it’s fine let’s just talk about something else.”

renjun claims hyuck is in love with you and that’s why he always acts like a possessive idiot but you’re quick to shut him up as you notice the boy himself strutting over to the table. “i’m heartbroken. hanging out without me is evil, are you replacing me now?”

you and renjun both roll your eyes at his dramatics. “i wouldn’t dare take your placing knowing you’d never stop whining.” renjun quips back. donghyuck pulls a face until he’s swallowed the big chunk of a sandwich he just bit into.

“i don’t whine.”

renjun bursts out laughing pointing his fingers at the boy. “sure you do. you whined when i called shotgun in yn’s car. you whined when yn went on a date instead of going to sit in your room to watch you game- which sounds like a horrible time by the way. the most recent case of whining was you getting pissy about yn and jeno being partners for game night.”

sheesh renjun had a whole speech. hyuck pursed his lips for a minute before nodding his head. “okay well maybe i do whine a little. i feel like it makes me charming, it’s not always a guy wants to be next to his witch of a best friend all the time..OUCH”

the kick to the shin was well deserved.

donghyuck has become conscious of his problem of always wanting to be your number one. has he seriously always been like this? he wonders.

he notices when a random guy stares at you for a little too long or when jaemins hands linger on your waist for longer then they should- scratch that they should never be there in the first place. he knows jaemin’s a touchy guy but come on! everybody knows yn is his girl.

wait.

my girl??? oh my fucking god.

at this very moment donghyuck realises he’s been an oblivious idiot this entire time. how didn’t he notice sooner? he doesn’t remember ever being this dense but this explains everything. he’s not exactly sure what he has to do right now but one things for sure, he needs to tell renjun.

it takes 3 missed calls and a load of spam texting for renjun to stop doing whatever he was doing and meet up with him. donghyuck calls him a bad friend for not picking up on the first ring and renjun tells him if this isn’t something serious he’s gonna whoop his ass.

“seriously why the hell did you make me come here?” renjun questions suspiciously. “why aren’t you talking? lee donghyuck i swear to-“

“i like yn.” donghyuck whispers quietly in response as he stares down and fiddles with his hands nervously. “you made me realise the whole jealously problem and then i realised it’s because i like her.”

renjun wants to laugh at his friend but he doesn’t because he looks like he’s about to cry or piss his pants…or do both simultaneously. “yeah? and what are you going to do about these feelings?”

“cry probably.”

renjun laughs in his face and donghyuck stares at him appalled. “why are you laughing? this is serious renjun! she’s my best friend.”

renjun only tuts in response, how can two people be so blissfully oblivious. even from his and everyone else’s perspectives it’s obvious there’s something more going on than just a pair of best friends. “i think you have a 90% succession rate if you just grow some balls and confess.”

“90%” donghyuck cries out. “that’s not nearly enough! and i have balls already thank you very much. i felt them drop when i was 13.”

“if you’re not gonna listen to my advise why did i even come.” renjun glares.

“oh renjun aren’t you just so so sweet.”

he’s acting weird and he knows you’ve noticed with the weird looks you keep giving him. in his defence, he’s in shock and you look really pretty and HE LIKES YOU!

“are you sure you’re alright?” you reach up to place the back of your hand on his head. “hm you don’t feel that warm but your cheeks are on fire hyuck.”

his mouth dries up at the close proximity but he needs to get himself together. “i think i just need some water.” he clears his throat. “can i have some of yours?”

you don’t hesitate to pass your bottle of water over and he realises he’s made a mistake.

an indirect kiss.

he’s going to faint.

“maybe you should go home just incase you’re getting sick or something.” you bring him back to reality once again. “come on, i’ll make sure you get home safe.”

donghyuck shakes his head frantically. “i swear i’m okay.” he bursts out. “and the others are already on their way.” he adds.

you nod and the next 5 minutes waiting for your friends to arrive is spent with you yapping and him listening along despite the breakdown he’s having in his head.

when your friends arrive they all notice donghyuck is acting differently too but they drop it after he says he’s okay, it’s only renjun that has an idea of what’s going on with him.

“yn i heard some guy in your lecture asked you on a date.” jaemin wiggles his brows as he starts a new conversation. “what did you say? is he taking you out or what?”

your friends heads turn to you straight away waiting on your answer. you can particularly feels donghyucks stare burning through your skull. “you’re all so nosy.” you chortle “but i told him i’ll think about it.”

donghyuck releases the breath he’d been holding at your answer and then he’s grabbing your hand in a hurry and rushing you out of the diner. “hyuck! what the hell? what are you doing?” you pull your arm back and he lets you, but he continues storming towards your car and waits for you to unlock it. “i’m sorry. can we go home please.”

you’re unsure if he wants you to go into his apartment with him but when he turns back to look at you with glistening eyes you’re already unbuckling your seatbelt.

he drops himself down on the couch and you sit next to him, turning so you’re facing him. “talk to me hyuck? what’s going on?” you murmur but he stays silent. “it’s okay. you don’t have to talk about it. shall we watch something?”

he stays silent for another minute and then he turns to look at you as he speaks. “can you say no to him?”

“say no to who hyuck?”

“the guy that asked you on a date. can you say no?” you’re confused but you nod anyway. “thanks.”

“did he do something?” you speak up. you’re worried he’s some horrible guy but donghyuck shakes his head at your words. “oh then why-“

“i realised something.” he cuts you off and you let him without protesting. you’d rather he talk than bottle up whatever’s going on. “i get jealous and petty because i like you, and i think i get scared and insecure because you’re not mine.”

your heart starts beating faster, so does his. you’re about to talk again but he beats you to it. “you don’t have to say anything i know i’ve thrown this all on you out of the blue. i want you to know that it’s okay if you don’t like me the same way, we can move past this but please don’t leave me.”

he’s rambling and your smile gradually grows. “lee donghyuck.”

“yeah?”

“i’ve always liked you.”

later that day he gets a text.

renjun: how is everthing?

he doesn’t answer yet but he thinks this is the best day of his life.

[euphoricfilter]

hi <33 i just read your yandere jeongguk fic and immediately rushed to see if your requests are still open. (i'm thanking all the gods and the stars that they are😭)

you're so talented and creative, and i'm really hoping you'll accept my prompt. if you're willing, could you please write a non-idol smutty, possessive and jealous yoongi fic?? maybe with a slight age gap? thank you for sharing all your work with us!! have a great day/night <333

𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭:

pairing: brothers best friend! yoongi x f. reader

genre: fluff || pwp || non-idol au || age-gap au || brother’s best friend au ||

summary: your brother’s best friend isn’t too happy when you come home with a lipstick stain on your chest, and has no issue about reminding you who you truly belong to.

word count: 2.8k

tags/ warnings: porn without plot, fluff, secret relationship, mild age-gap (5-6 years) smut in the forms of: oral (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex (this is fiction, don’t be stupid), breeding kink (but she’s on the pill so no babies yet), exhibitionalism? kinda because they fuck in the living room with other people in the house, multiple orgasms, creampie, cockwarming by the fire

notes: thank you so much my darling!! i hope you have a good day/ night too!! it’s all smut, there is a hint of plot but it’s minimal. this is my first time writing pwp so idk how i feel about it :’(

requests rules can be found here || my masterlist

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“You’re home late”

You pause; eyes meeting Yoongi’s gaze, always calculating. Always watching each little move you made until you were squirming, almost begging him to look away— your cheeks flushed red and voice barely above a whisper. And all he had to do was look at you.

If eyes are the windows to the soul then Min Yoongi’s windows have the curtains drawn shut— he had you figured out the minute the two of you met, and it’s taken over a decade for you to even remotely figure him out. And even now, both adults, you really could never figure out what he was thinking.

It’s the frigid caress of the winter wind on the back of your neck that has you shutting the front door. Careful not to slam it shut, assuming everyone but your brothers best friend was already asleep if the lack of lights on from the windows outside was any indication.

You stomp your feet to rid of any snow as you shrug your jacket off. Hanging it on the overcrowded hooks, evidence of another family living with you as you only pray it doesn’t fall.

“It was one of my friends’ birthdays” you explain, dropping to the floor in front of the fire. Skin tingling at the drastic change of temperature, your cheeks still a little red from the bitter weather outside (though it may also have to do with the man sat before you)

Your brother was home for the holidays, along with Yoongi and his parents. It had become a tradition over the years that both families gathered for the winter break— they took “the more the merrier” very seriously. And it wasn’t all that surprising for one of your families to stay over the others’ until new year.

“Looks like you had fun” his tongue wets his lips, book long forgotten on the arm of the chair as his eyes flit down your body.

Your fingers run over your collarbone, his eyes lingering a little longer than proper.

“It’s just my friend, she gets a little touchy when drunk” you wave him off, lipstick stain smudging under your thumb as you rub at the skin, no real force behind the action.

“Touchy?” Yoongi laughs.

“Mhmm” you smile up him.

And Yoongi groans, head tipping back as he readjusts himself in his sweats.

“Baby, the things you do to me” he tilts his head, eyes meeting your own. “Always a little minx”

“What do I do to you?” you dare ask, fingers toying with the hem of your sweater.

“That’s a loaded question, darling” his smile is lazy, hips rolling languidly up into his palm; short lived relief enough for him to stay sat on the chair.

“I can handle it” you reassure him. That gentle smile that tempts him time and time again, that gentle smile that he wants to kiss off your lips until you’re moaning his name, any thought of another man off your mind until you’re wholly consumed by him; and him alone.

“Bad things” he groans, not missing the way your eyes flit down to his lips, fingers fiddling and he knows you’re trying your hardest not to look at his cock— straining heavily against the fabric of his underwear.

“How bad?” you whisper.

“Very bad. You make me wanna do bad things, darling” he pushes himself to the edge of the chair.

You stay rooted in your place, and Yoongi thinks you look pretty on your knees; maybe prettier if you were between his legs.

“What sort of bad things?” you prod.

“Like fucking you silly” he leans forwards.

He watches your thighs clench, eyes widening a little at how blunt he was.

“Oh?” he croons, “You like the sound of that?” he asks, slipping off the chair.

“Yes” you nod, still unsure in yourself as you let his hands graze over your neck; unsure what to do with your own.

His thumb brushes over the lipstick stain, “You know I hate other people touching you, doll” his fingers dig into the skin, your breath coming out alongside a shudder.

“I told her not to” you tell him, lips pouty. And Yoongi leans forwards to kiss it away, ever so gentle that you fall into him. Early trying to deepen the kiss as he pulls away, lips tugged into a ghost of a smile.

“Yeah?” he whispers against your lips, “Did you tell her you have a boyfriend? One that doesn’t like to share?”

Your eyes fall shut when he presses wet kisses along the length of your jaw, his hands slipping under your sweater; rough skin caressing your bare back.

You tug at his shirt, and Yoongi pulls away from your neck to let you pull it over his head. He follows suit, tugging your sweater off before his lips find your neck, teeth nipping over your collarbone.

A hand clamps over your mouth, moan muffled by Yoongi as he sucks on your skin. He pulls away with a wet pop, thumb running over his bottom lip as he eyes his work.

“You’re gonna have to keep quiet, baby. Don’t want anyone waking up now, so we?” he pulls his hand away from your mouth, “Okay?”

“I know” you whisper, suddenly aware of everyone sleeping upstairs.

“Good girl.”

You flop back onto the floor, hair sprawled out on the carpet as Yoongi braces his arms on either side of your head.

“Yoongi” you smile up at him.

“Yeah?” he leans down to press another kiss to your jaw.

“Need you” your hands fumble with the waistband of his sweats, knuckles brushing over his cock.

Yoongi groans, muffled as he shoves his face into your neck. Goosebumps prickle your skin as his warm breath brushes over your shoulder, your hips rolling upwards— desperate for any kind of friction, any sort of relief.

“Yeah?” he grunts, helping you pull your jeans off, panties soon to follow, and you don’t bother to look where he throws them.

“Please” you whine, hands taking a hold of his face as you bring him in for another kiss, the heat of the fire melting your lips, moulded into one, so close that you don’t know where you end and he starts.

You mouth falls open into a breathy moan when a teasing fingers runs over your slit, your hole clenching around nothing as he teases over your clit. Touch so gentle you could barely feel it, pleasure like thin stardust as it fizzles through your body.

Your hips roll upwards, tempting him to give the release you so crave. You both pull away finally, breathing heavy as your chests connect. Hearts in sync with one another— and truly, Yoongi knows you’re his. Knows that your hearts are wrapped with a think red string and that you’ll always fall back into his arms. His love, his reason to breathe, his soul melded with yours that he couldn’t begin to imagine another woman underneath him.

Your fingers tug at the clasp of your bra, fingers a little shaky as adrenaline pumps through your body. Somewhere in the back of your mind still aware that anyone could walk down those stairs any moment and see the two of you.

Your hands find their way to your tits, tugging at your nipples as they begin to pebble— as Yoongi works his way down your body, trail of kisses following him. Lips barely there, though they feel searing against your skin. Printed in invisible ink that you’ll trail your fingers over later when you’re alone; a secret message left for you from him.

He kisses over your mound, fingers parting your lips before he licks a long stripe up to your clit. Your hand flies over your mouth, chocked moan bubbling up your throat as he repeats the action.

“Yoongi” you whisper, one hand tangling in his hair as his lips close around your clit. Your thighs twitch when his teeth graze over the bundle of nerves, eyes squeezing shut as a lick of pleasure wracks over your body.

You feel a finger prod at your hole, teasing the entrance before he slowly dips into you. You bite down on the skin of your arm as his tongue flicks over your clit, finger curling, before he’s pulling it out.

You barely feel the stretch of a second finger as he plunges it into you, the lewd squelch of your sodden pussy drowned out by the crackling of the firewood.

Your back arches, Yoongi pulling you closer into his face by one of your thighs. You feel him gently tug at your clit with his teeth, fingers expertly curling up into you; the slow build of your orgasm rising within your stomach.

Your thighs begin to shake, clamping around Yoongi’s head as he pulls his fingers out of you. Instead, replacing them with his tongue while his slick-coated thumb flicks over your clit in tight little circles.

You bite down on the skin of your arm as you feel the pressure of your orgasm reach its peak, Yoongi doesn’t need to ask if you’re close— knowing you were seconds from tipping over the edge as your cunt dribbles slick over his chin.

Your thighs to continue to shake around his head as you reach your orgasm. Your hand falls over your mouth, hiccup of a moan hard to contain as Yoongi continues to flick your clit, helping you ride out your high as the white behind your eyelids seems to fizzle to black.

Yoongi watches you tremble when he brings his face away from your soaked cunt. And you dare look down at him, light of the fire catching the sheen of your cum on his lips and chin as he smiles up at you; his fingers continuing to toy with you clit.

“Too much” you try to squirm away, his arm laying heavy over your waist to keep you down.

You feel yourself fall into another orgasm, buzzing overstimulation on your clit pulling you into a less intense but just as pleasurable high that has tears prickling your eyes.

“Yoongi” you snivel, mouth falling open into a silent moan, Yoongi not letting up on your poor clit.

Another dribble of arousal is pushed out of your clenching pussy, walls pulsating around nothing as you squirm, toeing Yoongi away from you— and finally stopping his unrelenting thrumming on your swollen clit.

Your next breath comes out jittery, hand held over your cunt as Yoongi licks his lips.

“You’re mean” you whine up at him, clit still buzzing with pleasure as the soft skin of your palm brushes over it.

“Can’t help it, your pretty little pussy is too addictive” he drawls, hands running over your sides to try and quell the slight tremble.

“Think you can take my cock?” he asks, wary of how sensitive you’ll be.

“Yeah” you nod, hand trailing back up your body to tug at your nipples as Yoongi pulls his sweats down.

You watch his cock spring free, pearly pre-cum smeared on his lower stomach, wet slap making you cringe.

He leans down, hand tugging at his length as he presses another kiss to your lips, drinking in your moan when you taste yourself on his tongue.

He kisses the corner of your mouth when he runs the head of his cock through your folds, cock slicked up with your arousal before he’s nudging the head against your entrance.

“You ready for me?” he murmurs against your skin, smiling when you hum.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer and he angles the head of his cock right over you cunt before he’s pushing in. The head pops inside with little resistance, and Yoongi has to bite back a moan as your walls clench around the tip of his cock.

You pull him in further, your boyfriend pushing his hips forward slowly before gently pulling back. Slowly, agonisingly, feeding you each inch of him until he’s buried to the hilt.

You revel in the feeling of being so full, cunt sporadically clenching around his length as he starts to pull out; gentle drag of his cock against your walls enough to bring you to a third orgasm of the night.

It wouldn’t be hard to make you cum again, not when your pussy was so sensitive after two consecutive orgasms. And Yoongi is kind enough to leave your clit be as he starts up a pace he’s happy with. Hand covering your mouth as you start to moan, fingers gripping your jaw and he worried he’ll bruise you.

Yoongi’s hips snap forwards before he’s pulling back until only the tip of cock is nestled inside of you before he’s ramming back into you again.

You feel his balls slap against your ass, squeaky moans tumbling off your tongue like honey that he licks from between your lips as he bends you in half, knees pushed up next to your shoulders.

You can’t help the red that stains your cheeks when you hear how wet you are, each brutal thrust of Yoongi’s cock ramming into you followed by a wet squelch as your cunt weeps around him.

“I’m close” you manage to squeeze out, eyes falling shut as your mouth opens, only Yoongi is clamping his hand over it moments later when he can see the moan ready to drip off your lips.

You’re the image of pure sin underneath him, nails digging into his arms as his hips continue to slap against your ass, and it’s a wonder as to how no one seems to have woken up.

“Me too, baby. Together okay?” he grunts, hands grabbing onto any part of you he can hold.

“Inside” you whine, “Cum inside me please”

“Yeah?” he grunts, “Like the idea of me putting a baby into you huh?” his laugh is mean, “What would your parents say? What would they think when you tell them you’re pregnant?”

“Probably ask whose baby it is” your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him close enough for you to kiss over his jaw.

“Yeah? And whose fucking baby would it be?”

“Yours” you cry, body being pushed up the carpet with each harsh thrust, your arousal starting to dribble down Yoongi’s balls. Each wet slap of them against your ass a lewd reminder of how wet you truly were for this man. “I’d tell them it’s yours” you sob.

“Yeah you will”

His hips start to stutter, thrusts less calculated, sloppier and he reaches his high. You feel his cock twitch and Yoongi smashes his lips against your own, more teeth than tongue, when his fingers find their way back to your clit; a cry being ripped from your throat at the harsh press of a finger against your swollen bud.

Your body trembles, Yoongi pushing his cock as far into you as he can before he’s cumming. Thick cum painting your walls white as he holds you close.

You shake through your own orgasm, tugging his hand away from your clit when you feel the overstimulation become painful, thighs shaking in the aftershock of it all.

Yoongi barely pulls out before he’s thrusting back into you, a foamy ring of white surrounding the base of his cock as he gently rocks into you.

You don’t bother telling him to stop, each electric thrum of overstimulating pleasure of his cock dragging against your walls too delicious to let up on.

Yoongi feels your walls rhythmically clenching around his slowly softening cock; and he’s gentle as he pulls the both of you to sit up— making sure he was still nestled deep inside of you as his hands run over your back.

Both of your skin shine in a sheen of sweat, bodies sticky as you flop into his chest. Your toes burning as they get to close to the fire.

“When are we gonna tell them?” you whisper, breath tickling Yoongi’s bare chest when you yawn.

“Whenever you’re ready sweetheart” his fingers run through your hair, catching in a knot and you wince at the pain. Though he feels you clench at it, he chooses not to comment. That was a discussion for another day.

For now he needed to get the both of you cleaned up, and you into bed before someone wandered downstairs wondering what all the noise was. Though he thinks that can wait a while, more than happy with you flopped against his chest while his cock stay impaled into your cunt; cum filled and swollen. Nothing a few kisses can’t fix and maybe his tongue in the shower.

“Maybe new year” you shrug, “I’m sorry about my friend kissing me” you peer up at him through his lashes.

He simply hums, “Just don’t let it happen again, fucking hate how touchy all your friends are” he grunts, “You’re mine, y’know?”

“I know” you giggle, wincing a little when you jostle his cock inside of you, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek in apology.

And you let him off this one time, his smile too bright for you to even dare tease him about it when the atmosphere was so cozy.

[ofallthingsnasty]

a few days ago I had a little thought about secret admirer Sanji trying to keep things lowkey and how he'd still overdo it. thanks to @tang3r1n's addition, I had to use this as a little writing exercise because it tickles me

tags: secret admirer (and thus unintentional stalker) Sanji, modern AU, crack treated seriously, misunderstandings, i definitely did not write this with the US in mind (everyone drinks) pairing: Sanji/GN!Reader word count: 1k

“Another one?”

Robin’s eyes are dark over her porter. She leans closer, chin perched on her hand, rapt attention all on you. 

“Yeah, another one”, you confirm and nip at your beer. Crystal wheat, your third today - and you can tell. Usually - or, at least when you’re sober - the little letters that flutter into your mailbox every other day are not only a great source of discomfort but also… weirdly embarrassing. You’re definitely not as eager to share them with your friends as you are now, when the alcohol has loosened you up a little, breathed some humor into this whole ‘secret admirer slash stalker’ situation that has been going on for a while now.

“Here, get a load of this”, you say, tapping the paper with your nail. It’s a little crinkled from throwing it in your bag but it still smells nice, probably spritzed with some floral perfume. Yeah, creepy.

“‘My darling, you looked simply ravishing today.’ The ravishing is underlined, by the way”, you slot in and turn the letter around to show her. “See?”

She nods and you continue. “‘Blue suits you exceptionally well. It makes me think of the skies when we first met. Maybe you remember it, too? I’ll never forget the first time you looked at me-’ oh my god, I can’t even read you the rest, it's so embarrassing!”

You can’t help but pull a face at your own voice. The letter goes on and on, as they all do - paragraphs upon paragraphs of someone laying it on thick, usually talking about your eyes, your clothes, your body - and then their feelings about those things. It reads like a paperback romance from the 90s, flowery and greased up to the maximum. You hand her the paper, so she can read the rest for herself. 

“Ugh. Like, who- who fucking talks like that?”, you mumble into your beer and try to wash down the heat in your cheeks with another swig of sunflower-yellow wheat.

A snort interrupts you, the sound coming from Zoro, who sits right next to Robin. He looks like he’s about to spurt out his mouthful of beer like the jet of a water pistol. Of course he finds it amusing. 

He swallows loudly, then barks out a laugh.

“That sounds exactly like- Eouch-”

Robin gives him a close-eyed smile as she shifts her weight around. “... Like a secret admirer, doesn’t it?”

“Secret admirer? Robin, how often do I have to tell you? This person has started sending coffee and donuts in my name to work. My coworkers are starting to talk. How do they even know where I work? This is so beyond ‘secret admirer’ territory.”

“I want free food, too”, chimes Luffy from behind her as he loads up on peanuts before shimmying back to the darts, where Usopp and Chopper are waiting for him. “If you don’t want them, tell them they can send me donuts!”

Very helpful, thanks, dude.

You lean over the edge of the table once he’s out of earshot again, eyes wide as you let them flit between Robin and Sanji, who has been awfully quiet during all of this. He looks weirdly downtrodden as he peers into his own glass, spinning it with one hand. It’s nothing new for him to be a little sulky during your meet-ups - probably another tinder date that didn’t turn out quite as he had hoped.

“I got a fucking bouquet the other day, can you imagine? I even took a- oh, wait-”

You fish your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans and swipe through your gallery to show them a picture of the decadent monstrosity (in your favorite color, no less) that had everyone at work chuckling two Fridays ago. It’s gaudy, over the top, ridiculous - you let your oldest coworker take it home with her because you simply couldn’t stand to look at it any second longer.

“Look at this. Next thing they’ll do is put my head in the center of one of these, I swear.”

Robin says nothing. Sanji visibly pales, then he mumbles into his white wine spritzer. 

“Darling, aren’t you exaggerating? Just a little bit?”

“Am I, Sanji?”, you say, dead serious and voice gravelly. “Am I?”

You lean closer until you’re almost nose-to-nose with him, the one too many crystal wheats making you a little animated. You don’t care, suddenly humorless under the dim lights above you.

He pulls back as you shove yourself into his personal bubble, eyes swimming with something. It’s incredibly out of character for him to be so silent about this whole situation and even beneath all of your buzz, you feel disappointment sting in your belly.

“What’s gotten into you, Sanji? Why are you defending this random creep?”, you say, very confused and a little mad. One year ago, when you had troubles with a too-friendly coworker, he had been there - had chaperoned you home after work, had helped you address the situation with your employer. For him to see you so distraught and almost brush you off is more than just a little strange.

“What if they follow me home, huh? What then, Sanji?”

Well, you have officially rendered him speechless. The blond looks like he’s choking on some words that are trying to climb out of his throat but never quite make it through his vocal chords.

“Yeah, what if they’re in this bar?”, mocks Zoro and gives you a pointed look. 

“Stop making fun of me, idiot”, you hiss and aim a single peanut at his head. “This is serious.” Of course, you miss.

He opens his mouth to say something but a laugh to your left stops him. Your head snaps back and Robin at least has the decency to cover her mouth as her shoulders shake ever so slightly.

“Why are you laughing now?”

She waves her hands in surrender but that mischievous smile you’ve grown to know and loathe is still on her face.

“Well, I think that this secret admirer of yours should speak up soon, right, Sanji?”, she says and picks up her porter again. “I-”, he starts and somehow looks even more uncomfortable than before. He reaches to adjust his tie and you take the opportunity to butt in. 

“I don’t know if I want that, Robin”, you deadpan. “If this continues, I’m gonna call the police.”

There’s a clatter next to you - Sanji is suddenly up from his seat, with both hands on the table. Something about his expression screams deer in headlights.

“I need a cigarette. Now.”

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 3)

notes: another short part, because it seems like these devils website streamed games are harder for me to write for? so sorry!

au masterlist

y/ndevils00

liked by nicohischier, ehaula, and 218,966 others

y/ndevils00 greetings and salutations! welcome to another preseason recap! as always, strap in and get ready!

just a reminder that as this is preseason, not all of satan’s favorite children played! tonight we had swiss cheese, swiss roll, uncle haulaback girl, uncle lizard again, best friend number 1, V², and ginger snap!

we started off the game by giving up a goal to the annoying orange’s 😐

BUT lizard man tied us up almost halfway through the 1st! POP OFF, UNCLE CURTSY!

captain whore was jailed tonight for being too cute, and ya know what? i think it’s fair! make him stay there!

not long after cap’s penalty, we got a goal from holtzy! giving us a 2-1 lead!

but then ham sammich also got a penalty for tripping!

we made it almost all the way through 3rd with our lead and i was really looking forward to going home! until one of those orange fucks tied up the game 🫠

i had a few choice words for that player… lindy didn’t like my words, i don’t think

however, about 2 and a half minutes into OT… HAULA THE BALLA GOT THE GAME WINNING GOAL WITH ASSISTS FROM BESTIE NUMBER 1 AND THE GIANT TEDDY BEAR!!

which means your devils are 4-0 in the preseason!! 3 games left!

p.s. this is my formal request to never have to be around gritty again. i thought adam fantilli was my biggest fear, but i’ve been proven wrong

tagged curtislazar95, nicohischier, holtz_10, dougieham, ehaula, dawson1417

Load more comments

curtislazar95 i always look forward to your praise, niece!

y/ndevils00 i’m so glad! can i babysit your children (my cousins) one day?

curtislazar95 quite literally never 💚🦎

y/ndevils00 eh, probably the right choice

jackhughes are you seriously afraid of a mascot, dove?

y/ndevils00 look at him! i think he would plan my murder and get away with it

grittynhl i would

y/ndevils00 OH MY JESUS FUCK GET HIM AWAY

lhughes_06 dawson sent him a video of you throwing your phone and now jack is currently doubled over on the floor, tears rolling down his face, as he laughs at this

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes glad to know you find my FEAR amusing

ehaula i try, i try 🤗

y/ndevils00 you did better than dawson! (don’t tell dawson)

dawson1417 YOU KNOW I CAN SEE THIS, RIGHT??

y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 no you can’t, this is a private conversation!

dawson1417 i can assure you, it is NOT

john.marino97 i’m loving this

dawson1417 @/john.marino97 shut up, you’ve been stealing my affection!

y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 @/john.marino97 boys, boys, i love you both equally!

dawson1417 no you don’t

john.marino97 no you don’t

dougieham why does it look like you took that picture of me from on the ice?

y/ndevils00 i have my ways

dougieham were you ON THE ICE somehow?!

jackhughes are you kidding? she would’ve broken her neck

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes okay and who’s fault is that? my boyfriend is a professional hockey player and you’ve never TAUGHT ME how to ice skate

jackhughes umm i TRIED to teach you! you fell on your face and then bribed luke to distract me so that you could get yourself hot cocoa and hide from me so you wouldn’t have to get on the ice again

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes hmm that doesn’t sound like something i would do. nope, not at all

nicohischier i didn’t miss this

y/ndevils00 yes you did

nicohischier i missed you calling me “captain whore” and taking pictures of me in the penalty box?

y/ndevils00 well maybe if you didn’t get penalties, i wouldn’t be ABLE to take pictures of you in the naughty boy box

nicohischier oh wow, i never thought of that before 😐

y/ndevils00 i know, you’re welcome

dawson1417 i got that assist for you!

y/ndevils00 awww i appreciate that, merc-dawg!

y/ndevils00 a goal would’ve been nicer tho

dawson1417 i’m feeling very under appreciated right now

y/ndevils00 aww i’m sorry, i love you! (do better)

dawson1417 i love you too! (yes ma’am 😔)

grittynhl i’m coming for you

y/ndevils00 help me 🥲

[stardust-kenobi]

4, 18 and 49 with Obi Wan please <3 xx Reader is about the same age as Anakin

may I just say, these are EXCELLENT selections, my dear. You did not specify gender preference so if fem reader is not what you wanted let me know and I’m happy to change the wording :)

4. “Can you guys just fuck already?”

18. “I don’t care about consequences”

49. “Swallow. All of it”

Consequences

Obi Wan x Fem!Reader drabble

Warnings: smut, rough-ish sex (at least by obi wan’s standards), 18+ minors DNI

“Can you guys just fuck already?”

Anakin’s words from earlier in the day played on repeat in your head as Obi Wan tore your clothes from your body. The tension had grown too obvious, and your best friend Anakin took notice. He was loud and bold, knowing that if he didn’t hint at it, you and Obi Wan would never have the chance to express your feelings.

“Obi Wan” You breathed, Obi Wan’s lips attacking the supple skin on your neck, “what about the council?”

“I don’t care about consequences my love” He said so seriously. He meant it. You were worth any consequence to come. This kind of self indulgent and lustful behavior was already forbidden, but a Jedi and a padawan sleeping together? You’d both be exiled from the Order if you were caught.

There was an inexplicable need for one another that you both felt whenever you were near him, which was nearly everyday. You knew the tension was bound to break eventually, and all it took was Anakin’s little comment, and that was it. It was lucky timing to pounce on each other in this moment, but you didn’t have long before someone would notice you were alone in Obi Wan’s room.

“Then, please, fuck me” You whimpered while his fingers circled around your clit, igniting your heightened arousal for him.

He was hungry for you, and it felt so primal within him that nothing would change his mind about fucking you senseless right there in his chambers. The material of your dress worked in his favor as he laid you down on his bed. Slipping up the hem of the skirt, it was revealed that you wore nothing beneath it.

“Maker, you will be the death of me” He whispered with a tone of weakness as he melted for you.

Your cunt clenched around nothing, your body begging for his cock. Obi Wan swallowed hard in anticipation of ravaging you, taking in the view of you sprawled out on his bed, just for him. He hurriedly pulled his stiffened length from the restraints of his pants.

The risk of it all meant you had to be quick, but for you, it just made it all the more exciting.

As he lined himself up with your entrance, you gave him a pleading, desperate look, which was all he needed to see before he suddenly buried his length inside of you. You both breathed out in relief, whimpers softly trailing the end of your sigh. He didn’t give you much time to adjust before he began pounding into you deep and hard.

“Fuck, Obi Wan” You whimpered. What was it about not caring about the consequences? Yeah, let’s hope not. Considering you were anything but quiet in that moment.

“You are so beautiful, darling” He praised, enamored with your body writhing beneath him and the way you took his cock so well. He was deprived of this for so long. To be taking you like this was a dream to him.

Maybe it was the excitement of how wrong this was. Maybe it was the way Obi Wan looked so handsome and dominant towering over you. Maybe it was because you hadn’t been pleasured in so long, but whatever it was, your senses were over loaded, and your orgasm was approaching very quickly.

Obi Wan sensed it, and brought his fingers down to your clit, and began rubbing your most sensitive area, pushing you even closer to your climax.

“That’s right, sweetheart, come for me” He purred.

With the perfect rhythm of his fingers, and the way he thrusted harder sent you over the edge. You threw your head back and cried out his name as you were overcome with pleasure. It radiated through your entire body, relentless in its intensity as Obi Wan continued his motions.

As you floated back down from your high, Obi Wan pulled out of you.

Quickly getting down on your knees, you finished him off with your mouth, tasting your own arousal slicked all over his length. The taste of you lingering on him turned you on. His cock twitched in your mouth, the tip of it beginning to stiffen, which let you know how close he was to his climax. You could barely fit him as you swirled your tongue around his length.

“Don’t stop, Y/N, fuck” He cursed, losing himself in the slickness and skill of your tongue.

Suddenly, the warmth of his release coated your tongue while he gripped the back of your head, overwhelmed by his own pleasure.

“Swallow, darling. All of it” He commanded as he rode down from his high.

You happily obeyed, taking all of his release and swallowing it. His hand cupped your face, admirable of your messy hair and rosy cheeks as he looked down at you.

“I believe we have a meeting to attend, right?” You teased, mentioning the Council meeting that was open to all Jedi, and it was crucial that you two attended.

“Better get ourselves cleaned up quick, then” He chuckled.

-

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-

-

-

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[opossumprints]

You're Weird--Im Weirder Pt. 4

part 1, part 2, part 3,

Steve has a decision to make. 

The last time he gave a gift to Eddie, he was in a bit of a panic. He had a tiny window of opportunity last time because the object of his attraction was too far away to be safe about it. The whole ordeal almost ended in disaster and with Steve without his favorite pair of shorts. He was lucky, Eddie went off somewhere and Steve got lucky. Steve would be damned to be caught off guard again. 

That still leaves him with options. Due to the slightly more flirty nature of last time’s pair, Steve’s slow increase in his teasing had jumped forward in the planned escalation. Either Steve pretends it didn't happen or… 

Steve could try to rile Eddie up. The idea makes him warm and wriggly, and he has the perfect pair to get the job done.

When Steve took Robin out to replace last week’s casualty, he walked away with a bit more than planned.  The new pair are more reminiscent of girls' panties than shorts, high cut with dainty patterns. In truth they’re one of the few pairs that make Steve blush. 

If all goes well Steve might even land himself a date. 

When Sunday rolls around Steve is prepared. Sudsy’s is near completely empty today, Eddie is there of course chatting politely to the laundromat’s owner Pam. Steve takes a deep breath before entering and waves jollily at the pair. 

So far so good. Steve manages to secure the machine next to Eddie’s (it's easy to tell with the sheer amount of band tees) and hurriedly starts the first load. That’s the easy part. The trick is a carefully timed tug below the waistband of his jeans as he bends down to dump in e washing soda. When he leans back Steve slips his thumbs into the waistband and stealthily two thin and dainty straps over his hips. 

After readjusting his shirt Steve is certain that it’s not noticeable to the average passer-by unless Steve lets them notice. 

Now all Steve has to do is wait. 

It all has to play out perfectly, has to go just right, He can't afford another fumble. To keep himself in place and hopefully prevent him from doing anything stupid, Steve sits down in front of one of the empty machines.  

In a stroke of luck Eddie wanders over without prompting. Which considering how Steve wasn't able to actually get near Eddie last time is a nice improvement. 

Eddie is wearing the butchered remains of a plain black T-shirt. It’s been cut into a tank top with the sides cut low, it's even got a few artistically cut holes that show off peeks of skin that Steve is trying really hard not to stare at. Unfortunately redirecting his gaze leads to Steve staring at where the shirt has naturally ridden up and Eddie’s low swung sweatpants don’t cover.  

“Hey” Eddie says, voice gruff. Steve's head snaps up, fuck he’s caught. He must look startled because Eddie raises an eyebrow “good morning?” The way Eddie says in a kind of prompting, almost sarcastically demanding, tone makes something stir within Steve. He can imagine them out with friends and Eddie teasing him in that tone; say hello Stevie, be a good boy. Steve manages to save himself from further embarrassment and respond with his own good morning. 

“Sorry we didn't get to talk last week” Steve says after a beat, “you're really fun to talk to and I missed it” he smiles for good measure. Eddie’s eyebrows disappear even further into his hairline (which is mostly just impressive instead of sassy) and he grins slow and easy.

“Dwaww you missed me!” Eddie drawls teasingly, his tone reminiscent of someone talking to their dog when they get home. “Don’t let your buddies hear that or you’ll never hear peace.” 

Steve fights the blush trying to bloom across his cheeks and nods.

wait …

“What buddies?” Steve wonders. He tilts his head despide the twinge in his neck from looking both up and sideways. “Do you mean robin?” Seriously, who is Eddie talking about? Perhaps its the honest look in Steve’s eyes but Eddie is taken aback for a second before he shrugs so Steve lets it go.

The taller boy nudges Steve with his foot good naturedly before unloading his machine. It’s really nice to continue the routine of chatting while doing laundry together. 

If it weren't for Eddie pausing awkwardly mid conversation every once and a while (and the fact there is a very public very dingy laundromat) Steve can imagine them goofing off together in a home they share. It’s so easy to imagine them bumping hips while folding towels and distracting each other with kisses while loading the dryer. Steve can imagine how easy it would be for Eddie to lift him on to the machine and pin him in place so eddie can–

“Dude your loads done” Eddie (the real one) buts in to Steve’s day dream 

“Yeah it is” Steve breaths huskily 

“What?”

“What?” 

Steve looks up at Eddie and blinks up at him innocently. In a way it's just part of the plan, not at all Steve being a complete idiot, not one bit.  

The impromptu staring contest ends when Steve gracefully and elegantly clambers back up on two legs like a concussed baby deer. 

Steve pops open the laundry machine door and leans in to start grabbing clothes. Just as planned, his too loose shirt slides up (forward?) and reveals the criss cross straps over Steve’s hips. 

It's the boldest thing Steve has ever worn. From the front it's just a normal (if not incredibly skin tight) pair of pajama shorts, but the sides, the sides are a whole nother story. Instead of sides there is a lattice of straps that criss-cross up his thighs and over his hips, squeezing the softness that rests there. 

And now Eddie is getting an eyeful. 

Steve rights himself after unceremoniously plopping a handful of shirts and a sock back into his laundry basket and risks a glance at Eddie. The other boy is bright red and has his shoulders by his ears. Steve could pretend Eddie looks bashful if it weren't for the deep want he sees in the others eyes. Instead he throws the rest of the plan out the window.

The plan was to let Eddie sneak a peek before slipping away for a quick change so he could drop his gift in Eddie’s clothes. But why go through all that when Steve could just lean into his space, look at him through his lashes and wet his lips. 

“Hey Eddie?” Steve coos, blinking languidly, “I really like when we hang out” he shifts even closer to Eddie to bring them nose to nose. Steve can feel Eddie's breath catch in his chest and grins sweetly. “Do you want to come to my place? Nobody’s home so I would love to have some company.” 

Apparently Eddie’s words are failing him because the boy nods rapidly and with enthusiasm instead. 

Later when they lay cuddled together in bed Steve thinks he could never be happier. Eddie lounges on his back with Steve draped over him, head resting on his chest, and with his arms wrapped around Eddie’s torso. 

“Hey Steve?” Eddie murmurs, running a hand up and down his lovers back idly tracing the constellations along his spine.

“Yeah?” he sighs dreamily in response. Steve turns his head to meet Eddie’s gaze and feels himself go gooey; he could stay like this forever. Being snuggled against the man he has loved from afar for so long feels so right. 

“I have something to tell you, and I really hope you can forgive me.” Eddie says cautiously. Oh no, Steve shifts onto his elbows and pushes himself to sit. 

Steve feels his worry pinch at his face and knit his eyebrows together. He worries his lip between his teeth for only a moment before he can bring himself to speak. 

“Eddie? what’s wrong?” Was he only an experiment for Eddie, is that what he's going to say? Is he going to be told this was a one time thing? Steve feels guilt tugging at his spine, Eddie is his own person Steve should respect it if that's the case not dread and despise the thought, should leave it be if that's what Eddie wants. 

Eddie steels himself with a steadying breath and meets Steve’s gaze. Eddie is trying to sooth him, rubbing up Steve’s arms and supporting his elbows. He’s so sweet; being open and honest and breaking his heart, but he’s still trying to help steve. Holding him and supporting him because he’s so sweet and he cares. Steve cares for him too, whatever he says Steve will honor because he cares for Eddie, loves him enough to let him go. 

“For the past couple weeks I have been stealing your underwear” 

Steve collapses in a fit of giggles. Oh he feels so bad but he does. He’s so relieved and it's so funny, he can't bring himself to feel sorry for Eddie’s confusion or for the noise he lets out when Steve’s weight plops back on top of him. 

Steve tilts his face and peppers happy kisses along Eddie's jaw. 

“Bu–but Stevie? You’re not mad?” 

Gleeful giggles bubble up from Steve’s chest once more 

“I’ve been giving them to you!” he gasps “of course i’m not mad!”

Eddie's hands are still in the air, supporting the memory of Steve's arms that just slipped from his gentle hold. 

“Are you trying to tell me that you, Steve Harrington, for the past several weeks have been slipping me your underwear!” Eddie blurts incredulously. 

“Yes!” Steve giggles “I was trying to flirt!” he knows Eddie cant see his eye roll but knows deep down Eddi can sense his amused exasperation. 

Eddie flounders a bit, flapping his mouth open and closed. 

“And they call me a freak!” Eddie is giggling now too.

“baby “ Steve smirks “your weird but I’m weirder”

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

I am so deeply, incredibly, sorry this took so long. The fanfic author curse kicked in and my internet tried to kick the bucket. I've been writing this thing in literally thirty-minute intervals because of that and I thought it was fixed but no! It took another two full days to get back on track. I managed in the end and got this part finished and that's all that I really care about in the end.

I really hope you guys enjoy it!

@slv-333, @jaytriesstrangerthings, @ajeff855, @stellasapiente, @croatoan-like-its-hot

[arkhamabyssfiles]

Arkham Abyss Files: Robin_MEMORY_02 Loading FILE... JASON TODD: AGE, 17 TIM DRAKE: AGE, 16

And off, his backpack went flying into the pool. Tim sighed, it was the last year of High School and these idiots couldn’t bother even to try to be normal human beings for a second. He briefly wondered who had messed with them so badly in their childhood or spoiled them like this, before he tuned in to what they were saying.

“—smarty pants? Cry to that old hag of your aunt?”

“I didn’t know you cried to your parents when someone was being mean to you at this age, thanks for the info.” Maybe Tim shouldn’t have said that, because his friends snickered behind his back and he turned red from anger. Uh-oh, here came the punch.

Except it never landed because someone had kicked him before he could even get close to his face. Tim looked to the side and there was Jason with a cold glare.

“Five to one? That’s lame as fuck.”

The shock of the other idiots faded away quick enough and now it was a brawl. Tim knew how to fight, or he thought he did until he saw Jason. Man, he didn’t hold back his punches and hit like a truck on a speedway by the look of it. Four minutes later all their assailants were knocked out on the floor, Tim let out a pant and rubbed his leg where a kick had landed.

“Remind me to never cross you,” Tim said cheerfully.

“You’re smart enough to don’t need that,” Jason huffed shaking his slightly bruised knuckles. “So much bark, and they can’t even bite.”

“Well, their parents will definitely come and bark a lot in a couple of hours.”

“Fuck. Probably. Maybe I shouldn’t have beaten them so much.” Jason didn’t sound half as sorry as his words might seem it look.

“Maybe— But I can’t say I’m sorry,” Tim seconded the other feeling as they started groaning while getting up and running away.

Jason blew a short laugh and smiled lopsided then gestured with his head towards the pool, “You probably should get that back.”

They both stepped closer to the edge of the pool and Tim looked doubtfully at his backpack, everything was probably already ruined besides his jacket. “Books probably are useless al—”

Tim didn’t have the time to warn or stop Uriah—the ugly brow-less meaty redhead—from shoving Jason into the pool. Then he turned to the pool and realized something was wrong. He immediately took off his shoes and jumped in, it wasn’t that it was a very dire situation, they were close to the edge so he just grabbed it and then took Jason’s hand then pulled him up and towards the edge. He sputtered then pulled himself up, Tim followed right along. All the idiots had already gone, probably limping and crying about their parents doing something or other while they sat at the edge of the pool looking into his still floating backpack.

“So—you don’t know how to swim?”

“There weren’t many places to learn in the streets beyond the harbor.”

“Guess not. Want me to teach you?”

“Sure.” Jason shrugged but Tim could tell he was very relieved by the offer. He wondered briefly at it but decided he didn’t know him yet well enough to take a guess.

“I think you can pick it up in a couple of days, so let’s meet here after class…”

*      *      *

Three days. It had taken him three days to swim back and forth the 25-meter pool. Anyone who saw his freestyle strokes would think he’d been doing it for years. They had started talking almost a year ago—minus the vacation months where they hadn’t spoken at all—but he still was as much a mystery as he’d been back then, for different reasons now, but still a mystery. He was gruff with most people here—not that Tim didn’t get into that feeling—but quiet and minded his own business, which was studying, he took that pretty seriously and had made Tim wonder why he hadn’t applied himself like that to it, then he’d probably be out of high school already. But it wasn’t just the academics but in sports as well, everything he tried—just like now—he mastered quickly enough… What drove him? What made him want to excel at everything he did? It certainly wasn’t to impress or show off to these deep-pocket kids—himself included of course.

Jason pulled himself up from the pool and shook his head to take the excess water from his hair.

“You could use a cap and goggles you know,” Tim commented dropping a towel over his head.

“I’d rather get used to swimming without them.”

“Why? Planning to swim in a random moment?”

“Something like that.”

Tim crouched and let his elbows rest on his knees and his arms hung limp in front of him. “I can’t figure you out, you know.”

Jason pulled the towel away from his hair and hung it around his neck. “What’s there to figure out?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

Jason huffed, “There’s not much depth, really. Just got lucky an eccentric billionaire took an interest in me.”

Certainly eccentric was the word to describe Bruce Wayne, just the recollection of him showing up three days ago after their “brawl” at the dean’s office and seemingly enjoying to fence with a bunch of enraged parents and somehow managing for him and Jason to don’t get into bigger trouble than to write a paper.

“I mean. He’s kind of cool to have on your side, right?”

Jason humped a short laugh and nodded, “You can say that.” He stood up and paused, “You live with your aunt right?”

“Great-aunt,” Tim corrected.

“Is she nice?”

“She’s very sharp with her words—but she’s very good. You know, the kind of sincerely good. She’s going to be ninety this year.” He really liked Aunt Beatrice, he just worried she wouldn’t live much longer and then his last relative would be gone.

Jason raised his eyebrows impressed. “Never met someone that old. By the way, thanks for teaching me the gist of this,” He said pointing at the pool with his thumb.

“Yeah, don’t sweat it…” Tim didn’t know why he always thought to leave it to another time to ask Jason to hang out outside school, but if he kept leaving it off the year would end and most likely their feeble friendship would dissolve. “Hey.”

Jason turned towards him.

“Do you—want to hang out sometime?”

“Sure. What for?”

Tim shrugged and Jason huffed but grinned. “What do people our age do for fun?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I guess we’ll have to figure out our own kind of fun,” Tim said shrugging again.

“Probably.”

END OF MEMORY... For more FILES check previous entries...