#can’t tag everyone but these are some of the biggest names

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Sugar

best friend!san x fem reader

Trigger warnings: none that i can think of

Content warnings: names (sweetheart, baby, sugar), oral (m&f receiving), choking (briefly), breeding, dacryphilia (kinda?), san’s got a big dick (what else is new) and is down horrendous for mc.

Summary: your best friend just can’t keep his hands to himself

Word count: 5.7k

A/N: hey babes! i finally finished it!!! its unpolished as fuck but it’s done!!! it’s only taken me forty-seven years 🥴 not saying this is a full comeback as i’m still dealing with some personal shit but i hope i’ll have something else for you relatively soon. anyways, pls reblog if you enjoy the story!! 🥰🫶🏻

Tags: @bahng-chrizz @foxinnie8

Smut below the cut

Most likely to remain high school sweethearts. That’s the yearbook superlative you and your best friend had been awarded your senior year of high school. The kicker? You had never dated him. The thought had just never crossed your mind. You were content being the hot best friends that everyone either wanted to get with or wanted to be. He wasn’t, but you didn’t know that.

Choi San had harbored the biggest crush on you since the two of you were fifteen. He’d gone through a hard breakup back then, his ex spreading rumors and lies all through school, and despite claiming he was fine because he was a player, he was heartbroken. He had been in love with the girl and she’d broken his heart and tried to ruin his reputation. So when you comforted him and confronted his ex, which ended in a cat fight in the hallway that got both of you suspended, he began to fixate on you. He dated around to keep his mind busy and off you, but he was infatuated with his best friend. With the girl who would throw down with anyone who wronged him.

He’d been heartbroken when he found out you were going away for college instead of staying local, even more so when he realized the school you’d chosen didn’t have the major he wanted. He was distraught at first, thinking you’d be too far apart to visit often. Every school he looked at seemed so far away from yours until he found the school where he was currently enrolled. This one was only an hour drive away from you and he was relieved to find that your schedule at your part time job still allowed for you two to take turns visiting each other every weekend.

You were oblivious to his feelings. You often noticed how he had trouble sleeping at your apartment but whenever you asked, he claimed he’d developed insomnia. He hadn’t, he just couldn’t sleep because of the thoughts that filled his mind from knowing you were in the next room. He felt guilty to be honest. He was constantly having dirty thoughts that normal people didn’t have about their best friend. Your mere presence reduced him to little more than a giddy, horny teenager.

You also noticed that he became more clingy after the two of you left for college but you never addressed that. He was always an affectionate person and adjusting to college life was definitely hard, so you figured it was probably that. That was part of it. But really, he just missed you. It was that simple. He missed his best friend and his heart leapt every time you opened your door or he opened his. Seeing your face made everything so much better.

Today was no different. He lit up like a neon sign when your door swung open to reveal you in a cropped white hoodie and a pair of black yoga pants, a bright smile on your face. “Sannie!” You held your arms open and he immediately stepped inside, wrapping his arms around your waist and hooking his chin over your shoulder. Everything that had been bothering him up until that moment melted away as you hugged him, your grip tightening right before you stepped back. Oh how he loved your hugs.

You led him inside and motioned for him to sit on the sofa as you grabbed the bag of goodies you’d bought the night before. “I got your favorites.” You grinned as you rejoined him, opening the bag to show him the snacks, sodas, and alcohol you’d purchased. “Oh, also, my roommate is staying with her boyfriend this weekend so you can yell at the tv all you want, we don’t have to be quiet.”

He managed to conceal the excitement he felt at your words, knowing you didn’t mean what he was thinking. “Noted.” He hummed as he settled in. “Are we picking back up where we left off on that anime?”

“We can. I think we can finish the next season if we stay glued to the couch all weekend.” You hummed as you began to stage the snacks on the coffee table, only then realizing you’d forgotten glasses for the alcohol. “We can watch something else if you don’t want to watch that though. I’ve got some other streaming services if you wanna watch a drama.” You shrugged as you got up, heading to the kitchenette.

When you came back, he was sprawled out on your couch. His arms were resting on the back and he had the full man spread going on. He kind of resembled a starfish like that and you rolled your eyes as a smile tugged at your lips. You froze when he let out a low groan as he stretched, throwing his head back. Suddenly, images of you getting him off flashed in your mind. “Let’s watch that. We can watch a drama next weekend.”

You cleared your throat a bit and nodded as you recovered. “Okie dokie.” You singsonged as you joined him, sitting close enough that you could feel his body heat but still leaving enough space that you didn’t have those thoughts again. Where the fuck had that come from? You grabbed one of the bags of chips and settled in, his arm sliding down from the back of the couch to rest on your shoulders as you pulled up the show.

The episode started and you opened the bag, offering it up to San, who shook his head. “I’m good right now, sugar.” You shrugged and leaned into him, pulling your legs up underneath you. He tensed when he realized he’d called you something he’d only imagined calling you but you didn’t seem to mind so he forced himself to relax.

What you didn’t address was the surge of arousal that flooded your body. You were a bitch for pet names and he knew that. You weren’t sure why you were turned on by his words, though. It was San. Sure he was beautiful but he had never affected you like this before. Clearly it had been too long since the last time you’d slept with someone.

Your eyes locked on the screen and you focused solely on that for four episodes before you became aware of the ache in your joints. You’d managed to sit perfectly still for two hours straight and now your body was screaming at you to move. You gently shrugged San’s arm off your shoulders and stood as the fifth episode began, letting out a soft groan of appreciation as you stretched your muscles and cracked every joint you could.

The sound of your voice caught San’s attention and his eyes locked on the exposed portion of your back, wondering what it would feel like to press kisses there. Should I try and find out? Absolutely not. Why the fuck would you even think about that? Fucking dumbass. He shook his head and let out a sigh just as you turned to ask him if he needed anything from the kitchen. “What’s wrong?” You asked softly, noticing how irritated and distressed he looked.

“Huh?” His head snapped up and his jaw dropped slightly before he recovered. “Nothing, I’m fine.” He gave you a warm smile and you responded with a confused but playful wrinkle of your nose before heading off to grab a water. That was fucking close.

You opened the bottle and took a big gulp as you reentered the room, finding him sitting up properly now. He patted the spot next to him and you plopped down beside him, leaning back into his side, this time with your back to him. You brought your feet back up on the couch and took his hand, guiding his arm around your neck in a hug and tipping your head back to rest on his shoulder.

As you once again became enthralled with the show, his fingers absentmindedly traced shapes on the side of your neck. You shuddered at his touch every few minutes but didn’t register any of it as you focused on the tv. You whined a little when he moved his arm back to the back of the sofa but didn’t protest further, too invested in the show to care too much. You shifted to rest your head on San’s lap, grabbing one of the throw pillows to lay on.

With you stretched out like this, San was struggling to focus on the show. He was fixated on your exposed belly and began to discreetly drop his arm off the back of the couch towards your waist. He bit his lip as his hand made contact with your warm flesh, trying to appear focused on the show like you. You glanced up at him and took a moment to admire the view of his jawline before poking his chin. He looked startled and almost guilty when his gaze met yours. “What’s up with you today?” You asked in a teasing tone. “You seem extra cuddly and touchy-feely.”

“What, I can’t be touchy-feely with my best friend?” He grinned down at you and something in you shifted. “I just missed you. We used to see each other every day and for the last two years we’ve only been able to see each other on weekends.”

“Simpler times.” You sighed and turned your attention back to the screen, not bothering to move his hand. It felt nice.

He was surprised that you hadn’t swatted him away but he certainly wasn’t about to complain when you were delicately tracing shapes on the back of his hand. His heart was pounding and he was thankful you hadn’t continued with that line of questioning because he wasn’t sure if he could form a coherent sentence at this point. He should’ve known better than to start to get comfortable though. The second his hand wandered a bit higher, you grabbed his wrist and he froze. Fuck.

“That’s more than touchy-feely, San, that was almost my titty.” You didn’t appear to move your attention from the tv but all you could think about was just how close his hand was to your chest. What had gotten into him? And why were you so affected by his touch? You were just friends…right?

“Oh…sorry.” He mumbled, trying to appear nonchalant despite his internal panic. You didn’t buy it though and looked up at him again, taking note of his flaming cheeks. Cute.

“Seriously, San, what’s actually going on with you?” You hated how harsh your voice came out. You hated the way he flinched at your words. You weren’t trying to scold him, you wanted to put out feelers.

“Nothing.” He shook his head and refused to look at you. You thought for a moment before biting your lip. You clearly didn’t buy it and wanted to ask if he was thinking what you were so suddenly thinking. You were about to speak up when he continued. “I’m just tired. Come cuddle.” He opened his arms.

“Tired already?” He nodded. “Must suck to be any woman you fuck.” You snorted.

“I’ll have you know I have excellent stamina, thank you.” He fired back instantly and you laughed. There he was.

“I’ll believe it when I see it, gramps.”

“Is that an invitation, sweetheart?” You were almost taken aback at his tone, as you’d only heard him use it when he was actively trying to bed someone.

“San-” He just laughed and shook his head as if to assure you he was only teasing. Somehow that bothered you more. Desire had already begun to pool between your legs. You gave a little huff and released his wrist, which you’d been holding this whole time, abruptly sitting up as you swatted his hand away. You turned to look at him as the pillow you’d been resting on toppled from his lap, exposing the semi he was rocking. So he actually did want you. “Yeah, actually, it is.” He sat in stunned silence and you bit the inside of your lip to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, only speaking once you had successfully concealed your grin. “What? Did you think I’d get flustered and back off?” You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to the side, your tone almost mocking.

“Yeah, kin-”

“Cute.” You cut him off and placed a hand on his thigh as you leaned towards him, your gaze flicking towards his lips for a brief moment before lifting back to his eyes, which still refused to actually look at you. “Tell me, Sannie, how long did it take you to work up the courage to try and feel me up?”

“I wasn’t-”

“Oh come on.” You rolled your eyes, your hand trailing a bit higher on his thigh as your voice dipped a bit. “You’re already half hard, clearly you were trying to get something out of me.” He squirmed at both your words and your touch, suddenly trying to squeeze his thighs together as he avoided eye contact in favor of staring at your hand, which he felt was far too close to his crotch for him to properly think.

He didn’t get a chance to respond before you spoke up again. “It’s never crossed my mind before, but now that I’m thinking about it, there’s so many things I could do to you, Sannie.” You whispered as you moved your hand away from the swell in his gray sweats and moved to straddle his lap. “What do you think? Should I?” You rolled your hips, grinding against his hard on, and he nodded far too quickly for his liking.

“Please do…” He whispered back, finally meeting your eyes. “Anything you want. ‘M all yours.” You got the feeling he wasn’t just referring to the current moment but you weren’t in any state to be asking for clarification.

You weren’t sure if you were prepared for the ramifications of fucking your best friend but you would have to deal with that later. The ache between your legs required immediate attention. You carded your fingers through his hair before turning your hand into a fist and tugging his head back. Your other hand rested on his neck as you caught his lips in a demanding kiss. The whimper that slipped past his lips went straight to your pussy and you shivered, leaning into his touch when his hands moved to your ass.

He was short circuiting. He was finally getting the chance to touch you and you weren’t pushing him away. In fact, you were the one initiating it. He licked over your bottom lip but you refused him entry, taking the chance to nibble on his lip instead. He gasped against your lips and you smirked, subconsciously tightening your grip on his hair.

“I never pegged you as the submissive type, Sannie.” You teased and he frowned against your lips, clearly pouting. Despite being a switch, he was more dominant than submissive. He was just following your lead because he’d dreamt about this for ages and he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice to you. I’ve been told I’m almost too gentle.”

He whined at your ribbing and you chuckled softly as you pulled back, moving to sit on the floor between his legs. His eyes followed your every movement. You sat on your knees and pushed his oversized tee up a bit to admire his toned stomach before hooking your fingers in the waistband of his sweats. You tugged them down, his now-fully-hard cock springing free and slapping against his belly. “No underwear? Must’ve been real confident things would play out like this, huh?”

“No, actually. I just rarely wear them.” He rolled his eyes and you made a face. He seemed to be getting bolder and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. You were having fun with him. If he decided to take over…well, you doubted that would happen but you might have a brat on your hands.

You didn’t respond, just finished pulling his pants to his ankles, took his dick in your hand, and licked the head. His head tipped back as he let out a surprisingly deep groan and your previous visions came rushing back to you. He looked and sounded just as pretty as you imagined when you took him in your mouth.

“Holy fucking shit, y/n…” He groaned, one hand moving to rest on his belly, holding his shirt up while the other curled into a fist on the sofa. You hummed at his reaction and continued, taking him as far as you could manage. You gagged a little around him and he hissed, his hips jerking a fraction of an inch before he could stop himself. “S-sorry. ‘M sorry, y/n. Didn’t mean to.”

You giggled softly at his apology and he bit his lip, looking down at you. You bobbed your head as your gaze met his and he damn near lost his mind. You looked so pretty with his cock in your mouth. He wanted the image burned in his memory for the rest of his life. Who knew when or if he’d get the chance to do this again?

Given how you responded to his accidentally fucking your face, he decided to experimentally roll his hips. He almost met God when the tip slipped down your throat and you gagged around him, swallowing harshly as you tried but failed to relax your throat. You’d never deepthroated before and it showed as you tried to recover, tears filling your eyes and quickly overflowing to your cheeks. He gently pulled you off and wiped your cheeks, cooing at you as you coughed. “Breathe for me, sugar.” You nodded and took a deep breath, letting him dry your face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what possessed me to do that. Are you okay?”

You nodded again and offered a small smile. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna go full send and hurt you or-”

“I’m fine, Sannie. I promise.” He finally nodded after a few beats of silence and you tilted your head, eyes narrowing as you studied him for a moment. “Now, what’s with the name? You said it earlier too.”

He looked panicked at first before a grin crept onto his face. “Well, I would call you honey since you’re so sweet, but I feel like that’s a bit overdone, don’t you agree?” You shrugged in agreement and he leaned down, taking your jaw in his hand and jerking you closer. He was a breath away and you were going haywire. “I wonder if your personality is all that’s sweet.”

“What are you saying?” You asked quietly, surprising both of you at just how quickly you’d folded with a single rough touch. So much for him not taking over.

“I wanna taste you, y/n.” He moved to whisper in your ear and your breath hitched. “Every. Single. Inch.” He punctuated his words by kissing and licking up the side of your neck, then biting down softly on your earlobe and drawing out a tiny whimper.

You squeezed your thighs together and closed your eyes for a moment. You grounded yourself with a deep breath before opting to respond by simply tugging at his cock, teasing the head with your thumb. The groan he let out scratched an itch in your brain you never knew existed and his grip on your jaw grew tighter as he inhaled your scent.

“Get up.” You blindly followed his command, standing when he backed away. He didn’t speak as he kicked his pants the rest of the way off and stood with you, hauling you over his shoulder before starting for your room. You squeaked in surprise but didn’t fight, a smile creeping across your face.

You couldn’t stifle the giggle that slipped out when he kissed your side. It shouldn’t have tickled as much as it did.

San had an idea of the things you liked, you’d both talked about your escapades enough, so it came as no surprise to you when he gently placed you on your feet only to grab you by the throat and push you back onto the bed. Still, a thrill ran through your body as you wrapped your hands around his wrist. You sucked in a gasp just before he began to apply pressure to the sides of your throat, your eyes rolling back.

You felt his breath on your face as he leaned down to crash his lips against yours. Your hands left his arm and moved to his shirt, pulling him as close as possible. As he slipped his tongue into your mouth, he slowly relieved the pressure on your throat, allowing blood flow to return to normal and give you a head rush. You moaned into the kiss and wrapped your legs around his waist in a desperate attempt to keep him close when he started to pull away.

“I’ve always wanted to do that…” His voice was a low rumble that made your panties uncomfortably wet. “Always wanted to try everything you mentioned being into. The choking, the biting, the breeding…everything.”

If you weren’t aware of your panties sticking to your folds before, you were after that. “Please do.” You exhaled, trying to pull him back in even as he righted himself between your legs. “All of it. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” He raised an eyebrow as his hands moved to rest on your hips and you nodded. “Anything?”

“Anything.” You nodded again and bit down on your bottom lip when he rocked his hips, the blunt head of his cock smearing precum across your yoga pants as he rubbed against you. “Please…”

He didn’t speak as his hands slid up your sides, fingers inching under the hem of your hoodie and ghosting over your cool skin. He reached higher still until his hands cupped your breasts. “No bra? Must've been real confident things would play out like this, huh?”

You rolled your eyes and tried not to laugh as the conversation from only a few minutes prior repeated itself. “No, actually. I just rarely wear one.”

“Take it off.” He groaned in response, pushing your hoodie up so your chest was entirely exposed. You sat up, which took a bit of effort given your legs were draped over his thick thighs, and pulled the surprisingly-thin material over your head. He immediately knocked you back and caught your lips in a feverish kiss, propping on one arm while his free hand wandered along your belly.

Your arms wrapped around him, one hand moving to his back while the other tangled in his faded pink locks. He’d dyed his hair magenta a few weeks back and it had since lost its vibrancy - though not before staining a few towels and his pillowcase. You gave his hair a gentle tug and he groaned into your mouth, sending a wave of electricity down your spine.

He began to trail kisses along your jaw and neck as his hand cupped your breast, his thumb swiping back and forth over your nipple. You pushed your chest into his touch, head tipping back as your back arched. Your breath hitched when he brought his kisses to your chest, lips encasing your nipple as his tongue flicked back and forth. “Sannie-” You gasped, your grip on his hair tightening. His hand gave your other breast equal attention, lightly pinching and rolling your nipple before swapping sides.

You couldn’t say you’d ever been curious about what it would be like to sleep with San but you were certain his skills would exceed his reputation if he already had you drenched with minimal effort. You wondered if he could feel the wet patch between your legs, starting to soak through your yoga pants.

He could. He found himself eager to bury his head between your legs despite being determined to take his time with you. He worried he’d disappoint you if he moved too quickly but he still began his descent, peppering sloppy kisses down your belly as his fingers hooked in your waistband. He took your pants and panties both in one go as he moved off the bed. You didn’t miss his sharp inhale.

“Y/N…” Your face flushed red as he knelt between your legs, gaze locked on your glistening cunt. You wanted to tell him not to stare, to urge him along, but you couldn’t seem to break your silence. Finally, you lifted your head and he met your eyes, his own eyes widening in something akin to adoration, though more intense. “Is this all for me, sugar?” There was that name again. You nodded eagerly but he shook his head. “Words.”

You frowned a bit, annoyed that he was making you speak up when he could just take one look at you and know. Of course, you knew he wouldn’t give in so you gave a soft whine before speaking. “Yes, Sannie, it’s all yours.”

You didn’t know why you were so against speaking up. The sound he made the second you did respond made you clench around nothing. He noticed, of course, and let out a low groan as he hooked your legs over his shoulders and kissed your thigh. “May I touch?”

“Please do.” You whispered and caught your lip between your teeth.

He continued to litter your thighs with messy kisses and soft bites as his fingertips teased their way up to your pussy, never once breaking eye contact. Your head fell back to the sheets as soon as you felt him run a finger through your folds, gathering up some of your arousal. He moved torturously slowly, rubbing feather-light circles on your clit before easing one digit into you.

“You’re drenched, baby…” His voice, though painfully sexy, was full of wonder and amusement.

“Your fault…” You mumbled and he chuckled softly.

One finger wasn’t enough. You needed more. He could tell and you felt him smirk against your skin as he curled his finger. You let out a soft sigh at the action but he wasn’t satisfied and so he added another finger, and another when you still didn’t give him the response he wanted.

“Fuck this cunt’s gonna feel so good-” He sighed.

Now three fingers deep, he began his search for your g-spot. It didn’t take him very long if your embarrassingly loud moan was anything to go by. “So fucking pretty, baby.” He groaned, suppressing another sound when you clenched around his fingers. “You like it when I call you pretty? Or was it ‘baby’?” He teased.

“Both.” It was all you could muster as he leaned in and flicked his tongue over your clit. You immediately brought a hand up to your mouth to stifle your sounds but he pulled back and nipped at your thigh.

“Let me hear.” At that point, you had no fight left in you. You just wanted him to touch you and you’d do anything to get your way. You gave a nod, a small ‘okay’ slipping from your lips, and he slowly leaned back in, lips closing around your clit. He sucked and you let out a soft curse, bringing your hands to your chest to knead at the soft flesh of your breasts. He groaned in appreciation and set a slow pace, working you up with his fingers while his tongue traced different shapes over your clit.

You suddenly felt ridiculous for never having wondered if he truly lived up to his reputation. He was proving to you just how good he was and you were cursing yourself for never having thought about having his head between your legs. “Sannie- oh-” You keened, one hand flying to tangle in his hair once more as he pressed against your g-spot at the same time as he sucked on your clit. You wouldn’t last long like this. He was too good.

Your toes curled as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, his tongue dipping into you occasionally in place of his fingers. Your muscles ached with the tension that was building but you knew you wouldn’t be relaxed until he made you cum. Hoping to encourage him to get you off faster so he’d fuck you, you began babbling praises, only inflating his ego.

He made sure you felt his appreciative groan before pulling back for a quick breath then diving back in, tongue flicking with vigor. His cock throbbed as he inhaled your scent and his eyes rolled back briefly. He wanted more of you. All of you. So when you announced you were close, he backed away entirely and smirked. “Not yet, baby.”

“Sannie, what the fuck?” You whined indignantly, lifting your head when he sat up between your legs.

“Decided I want you to cum on my cock instead.” He shrugged, moving up the bed to catch your lips in a kiss. You were surprised by how sweet the kiss was considering how feral he’d just been acting over your pussy but you welcomed it, tugging him closer with a soft groan as you tasted yourself.

“So fuck me then.” You whispered between kisses, lapping your juices off his lips a moment later. The whole scenario was filthy and intoxicating.

“You mean like this?” He grunted as he slid into you with ease. Your jaw dropped and you gasped at the stretch. He fit perfectly, like you were made for each other - a thought that both terrified and intrigued you. He wasted no time in setting a slow, deep pace, each thrust driving you up the bed with the force.

“Just like that, Sannie.” You nodded furiously, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders while your other hand twisted the sheets by your head.

San was on another planet. He finally had you. You, the girl of his dreams ever since he was fifteen. He was finally fully sheathed inside your warmth and he never wanted to leave. He’d give anything to stay with you.

He hadn’t intended to babble that out loud and realized his error when you responded.

“Yeah? Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Then fuck me harder and treat me like the most precious thing you’ve ever held.”

It was an easy ask. He had no problem cherishing you. Even as his hips began to snap harder and faster, the sound of skin slapping filling the room, he showered you with kisses and words of adoration. “So fucking good, baby. Do you have any clue how long I’ve wanted to feel this perfect little pussy? To make you fall apart on my cock?”

“Tell me, Sannie. Tell me how long you’ve wanted me.”

“God- ever since we were in school. It was so hot the way you fucked her up for hurting me and I’ve wanted you ever since.” His admission sent a thrill rushing through you and you clenched involuntarily, earning a low groan from him.

“And you held it together for that long? Fuck, Sannie, you- oh-” The tip of his cock just barely kissed your cervix but it was enough to make your thighs squeeze his hips.

“Shit, baby, you keep that up and I’ll cum…”

“Then keep fucking me just like that.” You demanded, back arching as he dipped his head down to lick and suck on your chest. He caught your nipple in his mouth and allowed his teeth to graze the stiff peak, grunting against your skin when your walls fluttered in response. “Want you to cum inside as many times as you can until you make me cum.” It wasn’t a demand or a plea, it was just a simple fact but he was eager to comply with your wishes.

“Christ, y/n, you’re killing me…” San groaned, resting his forehead on your chest as his hips pistoned relentlessly. He pulled back just enough to look up at you and you could tell by his expression just how close he was. “You really want that? Want me to breed you like a good little cocksleeve and keep filling you up over and over until you fall apart for me?”

Your nod and whimper were the only convincing he needed. He let go instantly, stars dancing behind his eyes as he pumped you full of cum. This was all he’d wanted for the better part of a decade and he was on cloud nine over finally getting you.

He briefly pulled out and flipped you over, taking a moment to watch a bead of cum drip down your folds before he slammed back into you. He might regret this later given how sensitive he was but he needed to give you anything you asked for.

Your back arched as he hit your sweet spot and you let out a soft cry. “There! Just like that!”

It didn’t take long before he felt another orgasm building. He warned you and you demanded he continue, begging him to give it to you. His cock twitched and he let go at your behest, filling you all over again.

Before he was finished, he reached around to roll your clit between his thumb and forefinger. He delighted in the squeal you let out and did it again, tears welling in his eyes from all the sensation.

“Oh god, Sannie, I’m so close!” You cried, your thighs trembling as your orgasm threatened to wash over you.

“Cum for me, sugar.” His voice was a low rumble in your ear, hoarse with unshed tears, and you couldn’t hold back. You let out another squeal as he toyed with your clit, tipping you over the edge. Your high hit you like a bus and you let out a sob of ecstasy as your pussy clamped down on San’s leaking cock.

You felt a tear fall on your back and gently pushed him back, forcing yourself to roll over. “You okay?” You asked softly as you pulled him to you, still buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“‘M fucking perfect.” He offered a lazy smile as he leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

“Mm then what’s this?” You teased as you pulled back, wiping a tear from his cheek.

“Proof that I’ve met my match.” He chuckled softly and wiped his face dry. “Seriously, that was…fucking amazing.”

“It was. Can someone explain to me why we didn’t do this sooner?”

“Who knows.” He shrugged and flopped down beside you, then pulled you to lay on top of him. “But I say we do this every weekend, sugar.” He laughed deeply when you swatted his chest in response but deep down you knew this was more than a one time occurrence.

[jenscx]

YOUR MAJESTY — jang wonyoung x f!reader

happily married, you assumed nothing would come between you and wonyoung. but everyone makes mistakes sometimes, right?

TAGS — angst, jealousy, princess!wonyoung, commoner!yn, wony’s lowk mean, aaa i feel bad for yn, pt.2 to my darling but you can read this without reading that

WORDCOUNT — 3.1k

marrying the princess was a dream. after being introduced to the emperor and empress, they immediately started preparations for your wedding. soon, wonyoung was to take over the throne and you would have to be by her side. the public were certainly shocked when wonyoung announced the lifelong partnership not to a duke or a noble, but a commoner. even now, curious gazes wander all over you, wondering what made you so attractive for the princess to reject other handsome and wealthy nobles.

after the wedding, wonyoung had been swarmed with work. being her partner, you had to take up some of the assignments as well. while wonyoung had to deal with external affairs such as relations with foreign countries, you were to deal with internal affairs— overseeing the public’s perspective of the royal family and making sure that all the funds were fairly dealt with.

at first it was tiring. you didn’t expect to be handed so much workload the moment you agreed to marry wonyoung. and it was even worse after wonyoung’s coronation. your princess had become her majesty and had to take care of everything concerning the empire. while you felt extremely proud of wonyoung’s ability to stay focused and finish tasks, a certain part of you felt lonely at the increasing distance between you and the empress.

even in your shared room, you spent countless nights waiting for wonyoung, only to be informed that once again, she was drowning in a sea of assignments and would be held up in her office. the first few times, you couldn’t control your emotions, disappointment wrecked your face and even the messenger, gaeul, one of wonyoung’s personal guards, had to comfort you.

the empty side of your bed always seemed to be mocking you. pristine silk sheets, never touched when you were around. it was like wonyoung was avoiding you. your face fell. wonyoung was avoiding you.

you turn your body away from the empty space reserved for wonyoung, squeezing your eyes shut to not imagine the empress staring at you coldly, unwilling to even share a bed with you.

hours had passed and you were still battling your uncertainty. what if she was really busy? wonyoung being newly crowned had launched her into a pile of work. despite training to become the new empress, she could easily be struggling with the workload. as her partner, shouldn’t you be taking the initiative to help her out? you got out of bed, throwing on a robe above your nightdress.

despite the late hour, the hallways were still brightly lit, probably by request of wonyoung who was burning the midnight oil. you remember the first time you and wonyoung had drank together. it was right after your wedding, wine being one of the biggest congratulatory gifts. with wonyoung’s invitation to test out every single one of the bottles, you had gotten extremely intoxicated, as well as the princess at that time. you recall the stumble back to your room, giggling and grasping onto any surface of the hallway.

sighing, you walk through the same hallway and headed for wonyoung’s office. with it being so late, there were no guards stationed outside. wonyoung’s personal guard was probably protecting the empress inside. there was a slight crack in the door, emitting light. you inched closer, hearing the passionate voice of the woman you loved. it was wrong to eavesdrop but when you had caught your name uttered in a hush whisper, your curiosity took over your moral compass.

“—and how can you leave your wife alone? a few weeks ago you could barely even leave her side, now all she does is live every day without your presence.”

“even if i love her with all my heart, i can’t deal with her bothering me every second. i just need time alone away from her.” your heart plummets. the sinking realisation that wonyoung was annoyed with you being around her hurt more than any stab wound could.

you had thought wonyoung was busy and therefore didn’t have any time for you, yet she was actively finding ways to avoid spending even a second with you. how could you be so naive to think she wouldn’t be bothered by your clingy nature? deciding to spare yourself the hurt, you slithered away from the door, not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation.

why would you? the empress had so clearly expressed her discomfort. you wouldn’t want to force her to endure any more burden. with a heavy heart, you lugged yourself to the first floor, through the many hallways and eventually arrived at the garden with connected the emperor and empress’ palaces, or in your case, wonyoung and yours.

normally the emperor’s consort would live in a room separate from the emperor, but wonyoung had put on such a cute facade with her big doe eyes and pout, begging you to reside in her palace instead. how could she change her behaviour so easily? you wondered. the walk to your unused bedroom was fleeting and like a robot, you dropped onto the bed, sheets barely touched, reminiscent of the side you constantly watched back in wonyoung’s room.

you couldn’t help but think of the past memories. wonyoung was so sweet and way more affectionate than you. now she was complaining about you being the same? you gritted your teeth, tears staining the pillowcase. for some reason, the bed felt colder than usual.

one thing was for certain, wonyoung was bewildered at your sudden distance. it was strange that when she finally headed to bed, you weren’t there wrapped in the duvet cover. it was even stranger that you barely spoke a word during breakfast, choosing to just hum or nod in acknowledgement.

the only time you spoke was to question the progress of the newest trading decree with the nearby kingdom. wonyoung’s patience was running thin. she could only stand a few more days of silent treatment before bringing it up.

“i noticed you weren’t in our bedroom last night,” or the previous nights, wonyoung wanted to add on. you pause, thinking of what to say in return.

“it felt stuffy,” you merely reply. wonyoung nods, “should i expect you to be in our bedroom tonight?”

“should i expect you in our bedroom?” you ask sharply, raising an eyebrow as you brought a piece of the cut strawberry into your mouth.

wonyoung parts her lips, shock invading her face, “what do you mean?”

you push yourself up from the table, “nothing. i’m done eating.”

the empress eyes you weirdly, deciding to stand up as well. she had to get to the bottom of your sudden strange behaviour.

“is something bothering you?” wonyoung reaches out a hand, attempting to grab yours, “you can tell me anything.”

you shift away from her, dodging her hand. hurt flashes across her face and you feel bad momentarily. but that moment of hurt couldn’t compare to what you felt that night. wonyoung sighs, “what’s going on?”

with pursed lips, you resisted the urge to blurt out what you had heard, choosing to stay silent, chin up in defiance.

“i don’t have all day, darling. a certain prince from a neighbouring land is visiting and demands an audience,” wonyoung frowns, “i do not know what time he's arriving, so i can’t humour you.”

you nod, “i don’t want to hold you back any longer then. have a good day, your majesty.”

it was obvious how much the title affected wonyoung, especially from you. when you had discovered her identity, it wasn’t easy for her to deal with that fact, thus you never called her by her proper title, choosing to stick to wonyoung or pet names.

she stood rooted to the ground as you left the dining room. what on earth were you playing at? the lack of curiosity when she had brought up conversation topics and your absence last night had made her question things. however, now she was certain something was wrong.

what made you change so quickly?

she decided firmly that no one would rest until her sweet and caring y/n returned to her side.

wonyoung was true to her word, always asking yujin and gaeul (her personal guards) to keep a close watch on you. they would bring back reports of you strolling in the garden, reading, but most of the time, you were holed up in your own office, probably dealing with some internal affairs. even during dinner you barely spoke. she brings a hand up to her forehead, thoroughly affected by your absence in her life. nothing had bothered her this much before.

groaning, she finally decides to pay you a visit. the piles of papers left undone. she was only going to take half an hour to visit you, maybe an hour to resolve the conflict you had. the decrees could wait. it wasn’t like she was getting much work done anyway.

“i’ll be back soon, just paying my lady a visit,” wonyoung informs her guards. yujin perks up, mouth agape, as if she wants to say something. wonyoung notices the heated exchange of gazes between the two but pay it no mind as she makes her way through the connected garden.

“your majesty! i think it would be better to not visit miss y/n now,” gaeul hurriedly says with yujin’s insistent nodding.

wonyoung grits her teeth.

“are you telling me what to do, gaeul?”

“i’m not saying this from a guard’s perspective but a friend’s,” she says, eyes darting to familiar curls of hair dancing in the garden, “you said that miss y/n was annoying you and now you’re upset that she isn’t paying you any attention? wait, isn’t that…”

“who allowed prince osaki to even be in the vicinity of y/n?” wonyoung brandishes a fiery gaze, jealous waves emitting off her as she struts towards you and your new acquaintance.

yujin and gaeul gulp, closely following behind wonyoung as she confronts the prince.

“good evening, prince osaki,” she hisses out, “why are you with y/n? aren’t you meant to be heading towards the meeting room now?” you eye wonyoung suspiciously. you didn’t know that the random young man who showed up in the garden was the prince wonyoung had mentioned! you’re shocked that he wasn’t even guarded by anyone.

“taro got lost, so i was guiding him,” you explain. looking at the reaction of wonyoung, your words only fuel the fire, ensuring the empress’ had a strong distaste for the young prince.

“taro,” wonyoung repeats. it repeats incessantly in her brain. she was demoted from wonyoung to her majesty and now some random prince shows up and he instantly gains your favour?

you nod, a blush rising to your cheeks when wonyoung stares at you intensely. shotaro bows politely, “my apologies, your majesty. i lost my way. this is an unfortunate way of meeting but i hope we can come to an agreement.”

your lover nods slowly, eyes raking all over you instead of shotaro. sensing that you were in trouble, you bow and quickly make your exit.

wonyoung sighs. she barely got a chance to speak to you and now she was definitely going to have to endure hours long of discussion. so much for talking to you.

(“why is she acting like this?” yujin asks gaeul.

“i mean, even if she finds miss y/n annoying—”

yujin groans, frustrated, “no, not her majesty! miss y/n! her behaviour changed so quickly, it’s like,” her eyes widen, “she heard her majesty’s conversation with us.”

gaeul blinks once. then twice. “her majesty is fucked.”)

after coming to an agreement with the prince, wonyoung was relieved of her duties. this time, there was no way you could run away from her. she had gaeul send you a message that you were to return to your shared bedroom tonight. she would head back to your bedroom early and finally have a proper discussion about your behaviour. wonyoung was hesitant to admit this but she missed you. she missed your constant appearances and visits to her office. she missed your incessant questioning about her day. she missed how much you would pay attention when she was talking. now, you barely even spared her a glance, choosing to pick at your food or stare out the window.

her knocks resounded on the door. a soft voice telling her to come in. she could do this. she wasn’t the empress for nothing.

“darling,” wonyoung greets. you nod at her, putting down the book you were reading.

“have you bathed yet?” she asks. once again, you respond by nodding. “okay, i’ll go bathe and join you in bed.”

she shouldn’t expect you to even reply verbally. it’s been so long since she had you whisper into her ear, confessing your affections. wonyoung slips into the tub, letting the warm water remind her of your embrace, one that she so dearly missed.

she should have felt happy that you weren’t visiting her so often. she should have felt happy that you didn’t bring sweet desserts to her office anymore. she should have felt happy that you stopped ranting about the newest duke who got exposed for cheating. but all she felt was emptiness. this was all her fault, you were only doing what she wanted.

her mind cleared of doubt, she finishes up quickly. you were sitting on the bed, reading the book you had previously put down. it's a reminiscence of the first time you had met wonyoung; in a quaint bookstore with rain pouring. now, you were in a four poster king-sized bed with gemstones and gold decorating the room. in some way, you missed your previous life. at least then wonyoung had paid some sort of attention to you.

the silence that was once filled with conversation is overwhelming. wonyoung takes a good look at you, noticing that you looked sullen, contrary to the cheerful persona you had before.

“y/n,” wonyoung starts. your eyes darted to her and suddenly, she forgets how to speak, “uhm, what were you doing with the prince?” your face falls but you mask it instantly, which wonyoung wouldn’t notice if she hadn’t spent hours constantly memorising every inch of you.

“just accompanying someone who was lost. i needed someone to talk to anyway,” you mutter. your response makes wonyoung heat up in anger. she had willingly offered a listening ear but you had denied her. was it so difficult for you to even talk to her about your worries? sure, you may be from different backgrounds but you should know that wonyoung would try her best to help.

“so i’m just the only person you can’t talk to?” wonyoung asks, unamused. you sigh, placing the book onto the nightstand. she takes this time to crawl into the empty spot next to you.

“that’s not it. i just… don’t want to be a bother to your majesty.”

her heart is suddenly wracked with guilt. your words remind her of that night, when she had confessed that you were annoying her. it was so familiar, and with your sudden behaviour…

“you heard me.”

you widen your eyes, turning away to hide the tears forming, “yes.”

“that’s the reason for your distance,” wonyoung confirms. you nod.

“i would have rathered you to tell me instead of letting me embarrass myself. i didn’t know you felt that way. i’m sorry for bothering you, your majesty,” you mumble, hands coming up to wipe the tears away. wonyoung only stares at you unwaveringly. it hurt her to see you like this, it hurt her more to know she was the reason behind your hidden pain. how could she behave in such a manner? she took your kindness for granted and hurt you.

“my darling,” wonyoung breathes, reaching out to turn your face towards her, “you shouldn’t be the one apologising. it should be me. i was just so focused with everything else that i forgot about the only thing that got me through this. it was wrong of me to ignore your actions of affection. please don’t hold back anymore, these few days without you were enough. it was torture. and don’t refer to me by my title, please.”

you sigh, “i don’t know, wonyoung. everytime i want to do something for you, i can only think about that night and how hurt i was.”

wonyoung swallows a lump in her throat as she feels her eyes brimming with tears. how could she make you feel as if you were annoying her? how could she say that about you? you were the best thing to happen to her and she didn’t even appreciate you. she had sworn that she would protect you for the rest of her life and it seemed the only thing harming you, was her.

“it’s fine,” it wasn’t for wonyoung, “i’ll give you all the time you need but let me make it up to you.”

“tell me you’re sorry,” you say firmly.

“i’m sorry.”

“tell me you regret saying those words.”

“i regret saying that you were bothering me. in no universe would you ever be a bother to me.”

“tell me that this will not ever happen again.”

“i would never do this ever again. not in this lifetime, nor the next. nothing you do would ever annoy me, because i truly love you. i missed you so much, my love. i swear that if i’m ever the reason for your tears again, i’ll beg for your forgiveness forever.”

you give another nonverbal response but the empress enjoyed this one much more than your blank stares and nods. she sighs contentedly, finally letting herself relax in your arms.

“i missed you too,” you utter in her ear, burying your head further into the crook of her neck. how long had it been since you embraced her? the flowery scent of her perfume seemed unfamiliar to you, yet it brought waves of delight that you finally had wonyoung again.

you would never admit it willingly but as soon as wonyoung’s arms were wrapped around your waist, cuddling you tightly as you both fell asleep, you were ready to forgive her.

it was the first of many nights where you didn’t have to receive the news of wonyoung not being able to spend time with you. it was the first of many nights that you didn’t dream of anything except a familiar empress with soft brown locks, full glossy lips and batting eyelashes.

it was the first of many mornings that you woke up to a bouquet of flowers on your nightstand, accompanied by a romantic handwritten letter.

to my darling y/n,

i have ordered the kitchen staff to not prepare breakfast for today as i will be attempting to do so for you. it will take some time for you to forgive me but i will be trying my best for your forgiveness. i hope you know how much i adore your visits and inquisitive nature. i cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you. i love you dearly.

forever yours,

wonyoung

[jiminrings]

fail-safe

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 8k

glimpse: growing up, your brother's best friend always berated you for not having a passion in life outside of loving him from afar. when yoongi leaves everything he's ever known for everything he's ever wanted, trying to move on from him becomes your biggest aspiration.

alternatively, yoongi left when you needed him the most, and comes back home at a time when you love him the least.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ a Lot of angst, eventual fluff, brother's best friend AND single dad au, So Much Yearning, unrequited love (initial), jealousy, self-deprecation, a lot of talk abt passion in an empty n hurtful way that most impassioned youngest children feel (it's a specific feeling idk!!!), eventual redemption in the next parts ]

notes: finally got to writing a new series!!! i'm beyond excited for this + this whole new concept and flow i haven't touched on before <3 i hope u love fail-safe as much as i do :-)

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! | series masterlist

Yoongi buys atleast one scratch ticket a week.

The accessibility of buying one is top-notch considering that all he has to do is cross the street, shoot one look to the cashier, and he can either already go hunch in the corner of the road or in the comfort of his room. The moment his coin takes its first dig and he realizes that he’s won yet again, he’s satisfied enough not to buy another ticket.

He doesn’t want to risk losing the win he’s just gained, the odds of him throwing out money besting his chances in adding to his earnings. He thinks everyone’s a little greedy one way or another, but it’s the righteous part of him that thinks he’s different.

You do think that he is for all the right reasons, your vision only tunneling for him alone. He’s this fixed older figure in your life and you can’t figure out how to shrug him off — he’s this generous leech that sucks all of the rationality from your mind but returns it to you twofold, whether in the form of him saying something unintentionally endearing that it makes your chest hurt, or through him having to lightly smack the back of your head.

Yoongi’s your older brother’s best friend and there’s a novelty tag that comes with him, one that can’t be topped by any material possession to your name. He’s there for you, not in the exact way you want him to be, but nonetheless there. He’s special and unattainable at the same time, the finiteness of his love barely extending to you.

He’s there when you want him to burn the latest songs onto a CD you’ve spent all your allowance in, and he’s there when you get annoyed that he sneaked some of his own recommendations in there. You’re there when you later admit that his suggestions aren’t half-bad, and you also happen to be there when he grins at the praise.

He’s there when Namjoon won’t cough up the last slice of his cutlet, not because he’ll actually give you his, but because he’ll help your brother guard his plate. You’d only have to mope for a solid of three seconds before the two of them give up both of their last slices, and you’re there when Yoongi insists for you to try the sauce in the spirit of going out of your routine.

You don’t need Yoongi every single time but in the event that you do, he hangs back. He contemplates and hesitates and doesn’t give in to every single whim that you have, but he’ll be there. He lingers like the last holiday ornament you don’t want to remove until it’s February, his presence being oddly similar to your favorite festivities.

Yoongi’s the equivalent of a holiday you look forward to with each passing month and day; he comes around to and for you in instances, but never even in your most sincere wishes.

“I buy one scratch ticket a week — three if I’m really feeling lucky. When my palms itch, that’s when I know that I really need to buy them.”

He’s calm and collected even when you’re scrunching your nose up at him in combined worry and disbelief, humming mindlessly as you collect your thoughts. He randomly told you about his lottery routine and you’re still trying to wrap your head around how he blows his money off just easily. Yoongi has the mind to put scrap cardboard under you because sitting on the hot concrete with your uniform on can’t possible be a good idea, but you try to play off your fluster into stubbornness.

He’s just playing with his two ever-present coins (lucky charms as he calls them)— one that’s shiny and minted in the present year, the other being the oldest coin he’s ever had that happens to be older than he is — while you mutter about.

“I don’t know, Yoongs. That might be a gambling problem,” you squint, your side comment being heard clearly as day. “Might be the symptoms for hand, foot, and mouth disease too.”

“What— I do not have a gambling problem! My skin’s perfectly fine too, thanks,” he defends, the light shove he gives you doing nothing to tone down your teasing.

“That’s what people with gambling problems say.”

“Give me that-…” he mutters, trying to wrestle you for the sundae he bought you using the money he won from his scratch ticket just awhile ago. You don’t give in easily, even if your laughs that come straight from your chest suggest otherwise. “You don’t get it. It’s just this nice, fun little thing I can look forward to every week. I always buy the cheapest version anyway so when I lose, it’s not a big deal.”

You relent (like you always do when it comes to Yoongi) in understanding, waving him off after regaining your breath. “Nah. I get it. We all have to do things so we wouldn’t lose our shit,” you trail, racking your head to find the right words.“Yours is buying scratch tickets, and mine is-…”

“Yours is what?” Yoongi raises an eyebrow, lips quirked in eagerness to know where you’re going with this. He can’t pinpoint a single thing he can attach to you and neither can you, your actual interests merely reflecting those of the people whom you love.

You love cross-stitching because your mom loves doing it, the tolerance you have for accidentally being pricked by the needle growing over time.

You enjoy playing badminton because Namjoon’s obsessed with the sport, no matter how ratty your rackets and shuttlecocks have become, and no matter how much he pushes you to ring the doorbell to your neighbor’s when he’s sent it flying to their backyard.

You’re probably an imposter yet you don’t feel like it. You don’t feel bad that your life most probably and will only revolve around your mom and Namjoon (maybe even Yoongi); you don’t feel dissatisfied that your life’s mundane. 

You go where your love goes.

“Mine is watching you buy scratch tickets,” you shrug easily as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, making him laugh heartily. You’ve probably done something right because he hauls you up to your feet immediately.

“Get up. I’m buying you your first ticket,” he nudges you, grabbing you by the arm in excitement.

“But I’m not even legal!” you half-heartedly argue, internally excited that you’re finally getting to try your hand at the lottery because you’ve spent a few hundred minutes of your life tuned to the channel to pass the time, awaiting the results for something you haven’t even betted for.

“Right. Like I haven’t seen you trying to squeeze out a drop of beer from our empty cans whenever Namjoon and I drink.”

“Rude,” you roll your eyes playfully, gathering your things from the ground.

“It’s okay. I’ll give you your first sip of beer too if you want,” Yoongi offers sincerely; easily as if you’ve just asked him about the weather.

He’s here to buy you your first scratch ticket, and he’s still here to offer giving you your first sip of liquor in the future.

Your family friend for a cashier vehemently ignores the fact that you’re still underage to participate in the lottery, and instead only chuckles to herself in amusement. She’s an aunt that knows when to step in and not to, and she knows you won’t be harmed by a mere bet. In fact, she knows you won’t be harmed by anything with Yoongi in tow.

“I already used up all my change,” your frown in realization, holding the ticket in your hands in despair despite having scoured your wallet repeatedly.

“Rub it against the pavement. That’s what I do,” Yoongi lies fluidly, a scoff being caught in his throat when you actually attempt to do it.  “I was only kidding, Y/N. Jeez,” he groans, pulling out his wallet. “Ugh. Here. You can have one of my lucky coins.”

It’s the old one, tarnished beyond relief that you can barely recognize what it’s actual value is supposed to be.

“Ew. I’m giving it back. It looks prehistoric,” you narrow your eyes, knowing that you don’t even have to put your fingers nears your nose to know that it’s already left a faint stench on them.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, a habit he can’t tell he’s formed himself or got from you. “If you use your brain for one second, you’d realize that it’s actually worth more because it’s older. Collectors would go crazy for that in the future.”

“That sounds like a hoarding problem.”

He’s just had about enough of your whining so he attempts to trade in the old coin for his lucky new one, but you stop him at the last minute with a meek smile.

“Kidding. Thank you. I’ll keep it safe, Yoongi. I promise,” you rush out before he changes his mind, scratching your ticket in silence.

He waits for you because you’re scratching so politely and neatly, a stark opposite to his experienced skill of scratching the paint off in ten strokes or less.

Your face is too close to the ticket that Yoongi can’t tell what’s happening, making him part your hair like a curtain to peek.

“Did you win?”

“Nope.”

“Let me throw that out for you.”

“No!” you squeak, keeping the ticket close to your chest. It’s a bummer that your first time is a loss, but it didn’t mean that you wanted to forget the sentiment behind it. “I-I mean no, I’ll keep it. It’s memorable now that I think about it.”

“Alright,” he shrugs carelessly, a smile breaking out in retaliation. “Hoarder.”

“Gambler,” you spit, tucking the ticket into your pencil case. “Next week again?”

Yoongi agrees, wrapping his head around the fact that he doesn’t have to be alone in his little routine every Friday.

“Sure.”

( ♡ )

You don’t mind getting hand-me-downs.

As a matter of fact, you love receiving them. The wear and tear of the things that came before you is only proof that it’s been loved enough to be passed on to you.

You adore your mother’s dainty vintage watch that she wore throughout college, the hardware and sentiment behind it being pretty enough that you don’t mind constantly getting the battery replaced. You like Namjoon’s shirts that he’s outgrown, even through the numerous phases he’s had wherein only denim and tie-dye filled his closet.

You don’t mind the history behind the numerous things you have in your home, unbothered that you’re probably the only house in the block with the oldest possible rice cooker. The chips in the staircase aren’t covered up with marker ink and neither are the loose stitches in the couch quilt snipped off. It’s home to your mother and Namjoon — if it’s good enough for them, then it’s already the best for you.

Even on top of everything, you don’t mind your family almost always getting you shirts and shoes that have an allowance in them. Your mom would go to Seoul and pick out the exact pair of sneakers you wanted that are atleast three sizes bigger than your actual feet, and you’d barely bat an eye. 

You don’t mind the coziness of things that are brought to you, because even if they weren’t offered, you’d seek them yourself. 

So when Yoongi mentioned that he’s decluttering his room and needed someone (read: you) to vacuum it up for him, you jump at the chance. You take a grocery bag with you, wear the nearest pair of slippers within your vicinity, and book it to his house as soon as he finished talking.

“Go crazy, kid. Almost everything in that pile is garbage so you can take anything.”

“I feel like I should be more offended than how I feel right now,” you hum, furrowing your eyebrows at the pile in front of you. It’s a mound of Yoongi, or atleast everything he’s ever wanted up until he decided to do a general cleaning of his bedroom.

Yoongi chuckles, going through his pile of clean laundry for him to fold on the side while you scavenge for his things. “It’s either I have you take them or I get ripped off at the thrift store, then I see somebody’s uncle wearing my shirt as an added insult.”

You huff, rummaging through his heap of belongings while conveniently trying to ignore that you may look like somebody’s uncle the moment you wear his clothes. Everything is him; every distressed cap, every unfinished embroidered shirt, and every item of old significance with his initials branded on it.

The thick gray hoodie you’ve been eyeing (along with its owner) for the better part of the last few years surfaces into your field of vision, your gasp audible enough to make him jolt because he thought you’d gotten hurt.

“No way, this too? But this is your favorite,” you half-complain and half-rejoice, turning the hoodie inside-out eagerly in the fear that there’s a catch to it belonging in the pile.

“Eh. I know it looked good on me but I don’t think it’s my favorite. Besides, I’ve bulked up! Wanna feel?” Yoongi grins, his segue eerily similar to your brother’s at every given chance. A neighbor from down the block recently opened a small-time gym, and the both of them have not been able to shut their mouths about it since. From their gossiping alone, Yoongi and Namjoon have generated enough advertising already.

“You and Namjoon really have to stop asking random people to feel your biceps.”

There’s random knick-knacks throughout the clump in the middle of his bed, some being too good and actually useful that you snag them. Yoongi lets you do what you want anyways (most of the time), not having to turn his head to berate you on what you’re only allowed to grab from his stuff.

You’re not greedy — you already have his hoodie and that should be enough on its own. But there’s that handkerchief with his initials embroidered on it, then that Rubik’s cube he swore his relative got for him from New York, and even the little butterfly knife he got from a souvenir shop when his family when to the beach.

There were those and there is this, looking up at you in all of its glory.

“Yoongi.” 

“What now?” he sighs at your dramatic gasp, looking up from his folded laundry to see what you were going on about. It takes a second for him to fully realize why exactly were you so pumped.

“Are you serious? Your helmet?” you squeal, already hugging the shiny red mass close to you. “Does this mean you’re passing your motorcycle to me?!”

“Are you crazy? Fuck no,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, snatching his helmet back from you. He doesn’t miss the bratty frown that fills up your entire face; he’s not exactly the biggest fan whenever you were upset or angry; maybe even both. “Obviously I forgot I even put my helmet there when I made that pile.”

You whine, stomping your feet in exasperation. You would dramatically plop down on his bed if only it wasn’t full of his shit. “Come on! You told me you were teaching me as soon as you finish teaching Joon.”

“Teaching you how to ride my scooter is not the same as giving you it. Why would I just hand you what I bought with my hard-earned money?” Yoongi scrunches his nose, tone sharper than what he intended.

“But you still haven’t taught me,” you murmur to placate yourself and dissuade yourself from the delusion that Yoongi would even exert such an effort for you because of course — why would he do that for you?

You have an inkling that you’re being irrational for all the wrong reasons, perhaps even projecting your need to be looked after… by him.

Yoongi notices your mood that turned sour quickly, the silence between you becoming loaded. He didn’t mean to be that blunt. “I don’t think you’re even old enough to have your driving permit,” he adds in consolation, voice considerably softer.

You snicker lowly, still looking at your feet with your arms crossed. “But I’m old enough to backpack whenever you need me to carry shit that can’t fit in your carrier.”

He immediately groans at your comeback, his furrowed eyebrows mirroring yours. “You’re so stubborn.”

“You’re a hypocrite,” you retort, knowing for a fact he’s known how to drive even before he was eligible for permits and licenses and whatnot. 

Yoongi takes one, two seconds to himself to regain his composure, clearing his head in the process. You’re still not looking at him and you’re pouting and you don’t even notice the latter, making him crack a small smile.

“I will teach you next week.”

“Oh my-…”

He cuts you off, raising his hand in emphasis. “Provided that you listen to everything I say and wear full gear at all times. You clearly don’t have a job yet-…”

“Ouch.”

“And I don’t have the extra money to buy full gear for myself, so what you’ll do is bundle up with your padded coat and the thickest jeans you have,” Yoongi enunciates every word, eyes keenly on you. They’re too wide and alert, you actually feel like listening to him.

“You go on rides wearing your pajamas.”

“Just say ‘thank you, Yoongi’.” 

“You haven’t done anything yet,” you trail off, head tilting in confusion. 

You’ve had a million conversations like this with Yoongi before but of different fonts; worn, familiar, and warm.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” he mouths, nodding at you to do the same. He won’t stop until you utter them back to him, and you know you won’t go home either without giving him your gratitude as you always do.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you relent, the grin that breaks through your lips being infectious enough that he laughs lowly to himself.

He exhales all the worries he has and could possibly ever have seeing you ride the motorcycle (or for you yearning to do everything that he does), grasping at whatever sanity he has left from looking after you.

“You can have the helmet.”

( ♡ )

Yoongi knows the ins and outs of your home.

He’s been at your house too much to the point that your mom already gave him a spare key and nobody batted an eye about it. He has his own designated slippers at the entryway too, something you would only use in a hurry if you needed to sign off on a package.

Yoongi, for some reason unfathomable (not really; you can tell exactly why because your mom is an extremely warm and inviting person), also has the power of dibs on the food in your fridge. He’d put strips of masking tape with his name on food that’s neither brought in nor made for him in the first place. 

It should be off-putting — the way that for too many yet too little reason, Yoongi has become a prominent figure in your life even if you didn’t ask him to. You should be peeved that you have to set up four plates more often that you set up only three; you should be annoyed at some point that when you wake up at random times through the night, you’re not totally alone to begin with.

You shouldbe angry at Yoongi to a degree because he’s in your life and you don’t get to have a say on how he stays in it. The only problem is that you’re not, and probably never will.

“Can’t sleep?” you mutter as you look up from your strikingly clear paper, seeing Yoongi strut across the floor with a casualness that only real occupants of the house should supposedly possess. He has his brows furrowed at you as if he didn’t expect to see you in your living room, scratching his head in wonder.

“Why are you up?”

“Stressed,” you sigh, giving up altogether in attempting to make yourself look busy. Yoongi drives by your fridge to get himself a can of beer, finally seating himself beside you on the floor. 

“Stressed about what? I’m sure it’s not about studying,” he snorts, unsurprised at your paper and the clear lack of motivation behind it. You only roll your eyes at him and he has half a mind to not remind you to not do it so much, the frown in your face reminding him that you really were frustrated.

It is you to throw the occasional tantrum, but he remembers that it was only when you were young; when Namjoon would whisper gibberish to his ear and purposely not whisper to yours just so he could tease you, or when nobody would believe that you taught yourself how to ride a bike with no training wheels. You didn’t know how to do the latter at all, but what had made you throw a tantrum was that nobody believed you.

You notice Yoongi’s digs, of course. You notice each one of his more than unsubtle nods to your intelligence and whatnot, the shots at your intellect not flying over your head like he expected them to.  You admit that you’ve never been that scholastic; you weren’t born a genius and you don’t try exactly hard either.

Yoongi’s only joking but you can’t help but to think that he’s pertaining to something deeper, his constant digs at your lack of a passion making you sluggish.

“We have to write this essay,” you answer simply, your tone straightforward and unwilling for banter but Yoongi bites anyway.

“But essays are the easiest,” he trails, looking at you the whole time as he takes a sip of his beer.

You exhale heavily because no matter what, he just can’t seem to get it. Yoongi knows where you’re coming from but he doesn’t know where you’re headed. As a matter of fact, you don’t know where you’re headed either. “We have to write an essay about where we see ourselves ten years from now.”

“But that’s still easy.”

“If it’s so easy, then go write it for me,” you snicker, leaning back with a huff. He constantly undermines you and although you own up to your striking mundaneness from time to time, it didn’t mean that you liked being looked down on. Yoongi’s too used to you being yourself, he gets taken aback when you grow sick of your own.

He gathers all his willpower, far from being sleepy unlike you who would’ve been lulled to sleep if only you weren’t dead-set on arguing with him. “You know what? I actually will,” he claps, handing you his beer. “Go hold this for me.”

Yoongi grips your pen for dear life like you hold his beer, his hand warm as he works from sheer determination alone (he’s not competing with anyone except for whatever expectation you have for him and your paper), while yours was cold just holding his drink.

You’ve been so quiet that he actually gets curious, turning his head to check to see if you’ve dozed off when actually, it’s just you eyeing the can.

“No one’s watching,” Yoongi breaks you out of your thoughts, carelessly shrugging. He cares and he’s far too concerned for you, but he figures that nothing would hurt you so long as he can grasp you. “It’s okay. You can have your first sip.”

You blink owlishly at him and when he jokes about taking it back, you take your first swig of beer in a panic. Yoongi only shakes his head in amusement, pausing his writing just to see the look on your face.

“One more?” he asks right after he sees you wince, the unbearable sweetness yet bitter, stinging aftertaste of the beer making you shudder. 

You have the urge to wash off the taste with ice cold water (you’ll even drink from the tap because you’re so desperate), but you resist it just so you wouldn’t look like a weakling in front of him. You wave him off with a bitterness, upset that beer doesn’t taste like what you’ve always imagined it to be. “Just write my essay for me,” you mull over the taste in your tongue, in deep thought while you stare at Yoongi’s back ahead of you. “Do all beers taste that way?”

“Eh. Most of them do. You develop a taste for it later on,” he answers, taking the can back from you before drinking it himself. He looks too dedicated in writing your essay, only goading the curiosity in you to peek over his shoulder.

He knows you, both in heart and memory, because he shields your own paper from you when he sees your shadow hovering above him.

“Yoongi?”

“Hm.”

“I told you why I’m up. Why are you up?”

He’s silent entirely, the only indication that he heard your question being his hand pausing abruptly. Yoongi doesn’t answer, and you don’t ask again. ��Don’t worry about it.”

You take his answer to heart, dozing off on the couch before you know it. You don’t remember a blanket being placed on you, nor can you remember preparing your backpack for school the next day.

Your paper’s neatly tucked into your portfolio bearing handwriting that’s clearly not yours, but with a sentiment that’s similar nonetheless. You read through everything quickly before even stepping towards your teacher, the tips of your fingers just as cold as Yoongi’s beer last night.

You’ve committed the paper into your memory, even until the last part with an excerpt you can’t forget despite having passed the paper already. You don’t know what to feel because it’s Yoongi who’s speaking for you, detailing that ten years from now, you will still be your mother’s daughter and your brother’s sister.

He wrote your essay either for you or in behalf of you, and you can’t tell which one is better.

Yoongi, who knows the ins and outs of your home and the peaks and troughs of your heart, writes in clear handwriting — Ten years from now, I will still be Yoongi’s rock.

( ♡ )

Surprisingly, Yoongi hasn’t been around that much lately.

Even Namjoon (who you consider as his Siamese twin) is clueless to why his friend hasn’t been hanging out with him lately to do either everything or nothing, confused because they’re enrolled to the same classes all the way to the same part-time jobs, yet Yoongi’s been mostly unavailable.

When Yoongi is, however, he doesn’t speak at all about his previous absences. He comes as if he’s never disappeared a few times before that, his evasion to talk about his presence being apparent even if you’ve asked him directly.

You’re getting used to his new routine of hanging out with you only when the both of you are free, no longer moving mountains for both of your schedules to line up. He’s more present this month than he was at the last, the criteria for it being how many times you bump into him in your own home.

Despite all odds and evens though, Yoongi can’t get used to your silence. He knows you hold grudges longer than your brother, and the last time that he checked, he knows you’ve already let go of your annoyance for him suddenly being unavailable without any explanation. 

It’s late, only the two of you are awake in the living room, there’s ten scratch tickets on the table for you to share, and he’s even gotten you your own glass to which he’ll put a controlled amount (a grand total of two long sips) of his own beer in. You’re not stressing about an essay this time, but the unconscious pout on your face is still the same.

“You’re awfully quiet.”

The frown on your face only goes deeper at being found out, the scratch of your lucky coin being the only clear thing that Yoongi hears. 

“My best friends want to have this slumber party,” you sigh, more upset about what you’ve just uttered than you are happy about the cash prize you’ve just won.

Yoongi takes what you say at face-value, groaning at his third straight loss for the night. “That’s great. Wear cute pajamas, snap a couple of polaroids, don’t be the first to fall asleep and last to wake up, and just keep a pocket knife with you when you’re going out by yourself.” 

The awe (and slight concern) over what he said should roll in any time now.

You should be comforted at Yoongi’s words because they’re supposed to ease the swirl of your stomach, even if what he just said is a repackaged version of what your family said before. You should let go of your worries because Yoongi, of all people, says that it’s supposed to be great.

Instead, you feel neither of what you think Yoongi wants you to.

“Was it something I said?” he mumbles after some time, turning his nose up at you as he tries to retrace his words. “I have an extra pocket knife you can borrow if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“We’re gonna be talking about boys, Yoongi,” you screw your eyes shut, sighing into the palms of your hands with a heaviness. “We’re gonna talk about crushes and experiences and all that.”

He shudders at that, his reaction mirroring Namjoon’s when you tried opening up to him. You get your brother’s reaction to a degree, of course, because you feel as if you’d be disgusted too if the roles were reversed. You want to talk about it with your mom too, but at the end of the day, she’s your parent and you just can’t talk about anything and everything with her. 

Yoongi’s your next plausible option.

“Do you want some ice cream right now? You know what, I’ll buy you-…” Yoongi tries to evade the topic altogether, his attempt of escaping feeble as you drag him down by his hoodie.

“I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

“Heh.”

Yoongi shrugs at that, regaining his words when you deadpan at him. “So? What about it?”

You starfish on the floor at that out of frustration, the whine you’ve been bottling up coming out in the open because as usual, Yoongi doesn’t get it. “I-I’m probably the only one in my grade who hasn’t kissed someone yet! I can’t just lie carelessly because obviously, they’ll ask around.”

“So?” Yoongi chuckles, his breeze towards your state shocking you. “What’s it to them if you haven’t had your first kiss?”

“You don’t get it,” you grit through your teeth, crossing your arms so hard that it feels hard to inhale.

“I’m pretty sure I do,” he sing-songs, drinking the last of his beer. When you’re not looking though, he plans to either drink or chuck the remainder of your share because he doesn’t want you to develop a taste for it.

The anger you have for Yoongi bubbles up once again, the itch in your throat unbearable. You’re presented with the age gap between you once more, along with the raging emptiness in you that Yoongi’s reached so far and you’ve reached so little.

“You don’t get it because you’ve had all of these experiences when you were younger than my age right now,” you snap, although you don’t look at him when you do. If you do look at him though, you’ll only be reminded of how a face like his could have everything in this world — even a first kiss you’ve never had.

“Yeah, and so?” he knits his brows, growing defensive. You weren’t lying at all, but he still feels a little offended at the dig. He’s not not proud of it, but with the way you say it, it’s like you want him to burn in shame,

“Stop saying so,” you angrily mumble in frustration, a little breathless because you still don’t ease up on crossing your arms.

Yoongi straightens his posture, staring you down with his jaw set. He’s stern as he is, nostrils flaring in irritation. “No, Y/N. I’m genuinely asking — so what? What’s it to you if I had my first kiss at a younger age? What about it if everyone else in your grade has kissed someone and you haven’t? It’s not the end of the world.”

“I-I don’t know! It’s just unfair!” you let up, yielding to both the facts that Yoongi’s right with it not being the end of the world, and that you’re still entitled to feeling upset.

“Instead of spending time obsessing over your first kiss, maybe I don’t know,  try being productive? You’re heading to college soon and you haven’t even thought of a career,” Yoongi goes off on you, making you roll your eyes automatically. There he goes again with the great big push of trying to push you into your supposed passions in life. “Someone else’s luck doesn’t mean it’s already your misfortune.”

“But it is.”

You say it so definitively, you almost convince him. You have your principles and so does Yoongi, but not everyone else. You have your principles yet you don’t have the luck. You’re not getting anywhere in life just like Yoongi or anyone else who was remotely born into wealth, no matter how quiet or obvious.

You can’t pursue something that interests you in the slightest without thinking what would come out of it. You can’t think of a degree and a course you’ll stick with, enough to do for the rest of your life because the only other option is to fail completely if you don’t. You have no plan and no passion and you don’t know if you’ll ever amount to anything to anyone at all.

By all means, you don’t agree with Yoongi this time. Someone else’s luck is your misfortune, in the same way that his first kiss doesn’t mean that it’s yours.

The sidetrack to your argument is a closed case already, judging by your downcast gaze. “I just have to put myself out there, that’s all. My first kiss doesn’t even have to mean anything. I just want to have it,” you admit, shoulders relaxing.

“Don’t,” Yoongi groans, the opposite of you as his whole body tenses.

He thinks that you don’t get him at all.

“What do you meandon’t?”

Your argument’s long-over (atleast you thought it was) but Yoongi’s getting more agitated by the minute, the disbelief on his face throwing you off. “Don’t do things just because you feel like you have to! Are you even hearing yourself right now?”

“I don’t want to be left behind, Yoongi! That’s all I’m trying to get at,” you raise your hands in surrender, shrugging thoughtlessly — it makes him want yell into a paper bag in exasperation. “I don’t want to be picked last. I don’t want to not be wanted.”

Yoongi exhales, screwing his eyes shut. It stays silent like that for a little while; him calming himself down, and you scratching your tickets. The calm doesn’t stay for long because you open your mouth carelessly, again.

“Can you be my first kiss?”

“Are you insane?”

“Ugh.”

You go back to your fourth scratch ticket, pouting in disappointment. You’re unfazed about the win that’s probably the largest sum you’ve had ever since you started doing the lottery.

You’re upset and you’re sick in the stomach but you stay silent like you never asked Yoongi to be your first kiss; it’s like you haven’t indirectly admitted to him that you love him enough, more than so, to want him to be your first.

You’re about to scratch the final ticket when Yoongi juts his hand out, fingers barely brushing yours to stop you.

“On second thought, don’t scratch that. Just keep it.”

“Because you want to turn me into a hoarder too?” you snicker, heeding his suggestion regardless.

“Because I’m not going to be right about everything,” Yoongi mumbles, looking at you with a solemnness you can’t decipher.

You try until the solemnness turns into pity.

“Still don’t want to be my first kiss?”

Yoongi softly laughs to your face, smiling as he lets you down — whether easily or harshly, you can’t tell.

“You already know what I’m going to say.”

( ♡ )

You’d like to think that you’re not kept in the dark about most things.

You already know that although your mom hasn’t had any relationships since your dad left, she still has plenty of suitors. Some of them are the reason why you have random food deliveries in the middle of the dinner that she’s already cooked, some have sucked up to her by getting you and Namjoon gifts. 

You know about Namjoon’s growing love for football, even with the lessons he takes in secret because he didn’t want to trouble your mom for the money. It’s why he does his part-time job and why you’re looking for one anyways. You don’t want nor need much, so you almost always give him the remainder of your allowance by the end of each week.

Yoongi, on the other hand, you don’t know much about. You know that he’s an only child with a doting mom who works overseas and a rich but emotionally unavailable dad at home, and that’s about it. His home life is synonymous with yours, considering that your four walls have become an extension of his.

Maybe you’ve become too lenient on him — either that, or he’s become too disrespectful. It’s at times like these where your house is not his home, sickeningly so that you don’t want it to be yours either.

Yoongi is a sight to behold as he makes out with a half-naked girl on your bed, in your room. Your room has never been the neatest but with everything going on, it feels that it’s become the dirtiest that it’s ever been. Your house slippers are on the floor even if you always leave them by the entryway, and your sheets are a mess despite being one of the only things you try to keep folded in the room.

You’re angry, too much to the point that the words get caught in your throat. They catch onto bile and venom and everything at once, the strain in your voice heard when you yell.

“What the fuck?!”

Yoongi and the girl, whom you figure out to be Hyewon that he’s shared his first kiss with, jolt in unison. Hyewon’s scared shitless while Yoongi’s annoyed to death, the grunt he lets out pricking your ears further. “Sorry, sorry. She’s my best friend’s sister. She’s so annoying,” he drags you out of your room before he even gives you the entitlement to storm out of there in a fit of rage, seeing red the longer that he seems upset at you.

“What the fuck was that, Yoongi?” you grit through your teeth, the moment of you seeing red turn into white because you’re so frustrated that you could actually cry. Your chest’s heavy, not only out of rage, but out of everything that’s built up in the course of years.

“Can you keep it down?” Yoongi seethes, pursing his lips. “What, would you rather see us do it in the living room?”

“In the — what? Who do you think you are? This isn’t even your house, why are you bringing these girls here?” you point an accusing finger at him yet he doesn’t back away, his annoyance for you only growing tenfold.

He’s in the wrong no matter which way you look at it yet he doesn’t realize it, the epiphany that Yoongi genuinely thinks he’s in the right for doing this to you making your skin burn in fire.

“This is literally the first time I’ve ever done this! I can’t bring her back to my place, my dad has guests over!”

“So your smartest idea is to fuck someone in my bed?”

“Oh, you’re welcome. It’s the most action your four walls have ever seen,” he spits sarcastically, eyes narrowing at you. It takes little effort for him to dig up what you came to him for in worry and it terrifies you. The facet of Yoongi who had sternly told you that it was okay to be left behind if it means getting what you deserve, resembling nothing like him at the moment.

“I can’t believe you!” you whisper as you tremble, the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “I told you that in confidence.”

“In confidence? It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you’re not exactly a catch, Y/N.”

You clench your jaw so hard that it hurts, you ball your fists so tightly that it stings.

You leave your home without saying another word.

.

.

.

Namjoon’s panicked.

He came home a little later than usual because he had maximized the life out of his soccer lessons, only getting the signal to leave when the lights were turned off. He was only slightly worried at the first place because he was supposed to cook dinner for the both of you, but he placated himself by realizing that you’re not the baby that he still thinks you are — you could cook dinner for yourself if you were hungry already.

He thinks nothing of it. In fact, he just makes a quick stop at the convenience store so the both of you could indulge in a liter of ice cream without your mom urging to leave some for another night. You could think of a recipe from scratch (and it almost always works out at the end), so Namjoon walked in fully thinking he’ll get to sniff whatever concoction you have.

Except, he walks into a completely dark house, and that’s when he panics.

He can’t find your slippers by the entryway and you’re not in your room either. You’re not at the other convenience store hunched over taking your chances on scratch tickets, and you’re not out on the street either going people-watching.

The panic rises in him the more that Namjoon grasps this is the first time that this has ever happened and he doesn’t know why. He’s always made an effort to be absorbed into both your personal and academic affairs, and as far as he knows, you’re neither in a sleepover nor on a field trip somewhere.

Namjoon thinks it’s his fault someway somehow, and the guilt can’t fully dissipate from him until he sees you.

“Hey, Yoongi,” he breathlessly gasps the moment his friend answers, the latter being surprised because he thought it was you who was calling him after what happened awhile ago.

It’s his fault and he’s realized that hours too late, and the selfish part of him thinks that it’s you calling at ten in the evening begging for forgiveness.

“What’s up, man? It’s late,” he wonders out loud, thinking for a second if they were too much of the Siamese twins that you tease them to be because he can’t think of a rational reason why Namjoon would call him at this time of night.

Namjoon raggedly exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’m just wondering if you’ve seen Y/N by any chance?”

Yoongi’s heart drops so loudly that Namjoon thought for second that his friend had hung up on him, his urgency being shared the moment that he asked.

“What? Y/N isn’t home?” Yoongi asks in disbelief, immediately being filled with anxiety and disbelief. Just awhile ago, the two of you were arguing outside of your room. He did hear you leave, but he had fully expected for you to be back hours ago. He’s wracked with guilt all over, the drop in his chest amplified by the pit in his stomach.

“She’s not. Practice ran late and I-I know she’s responsible so I didn’t hurry home,” Namjoon recalls, being more and more frazzled by the second. “She left her phone here, and mom isn’t here either because she’s visiting my grandparents, a-and I don’t want to call her because I know she’ll be worried, a-and-…”

Yoongi interrupts him, the tremble in his fingers only enabling him to dig his nails into his palm deeper. “I’m coming over. Let’s look for her together.”

It barely takes a minute for the both of them to come together, not even exchanging any pleasantries with each other before Yoongi steps on the gas. 

Namjoon’s filled with guilt, the type that only a sibling could carry as a burden. He thinks he was too selfish — too accustomed to pulling your own weight that it must have given you the impression that you had no other choice but to. Whatever it was that made you leave out of the blue, Namjoon thinks he could’ve done more. He should’ve came home and made you dinner as promised, for starters. He’s guilty over the fact that he’s the only close familial male figure in your life and he let this happen, as he makes Yoongi put his headlights on high-beam, scanning for anyone that looks remotely like you.

Yoongi, on the other hand, is filled with a guilt he can’t even begin to explain. It corrodes him from the inside-out in realization that he’s to blame for your sudden disappearance, the fact that Namjoon comes to him first to help find you not helping at all. If only your brother knew what he had done to you, he’s positive that he’ll be on the receiving end of a punch — what gets him more is that Yoongi wouldn’t blame him at all.

They see you in the bus stop two cities away, dressed in the same clothes you ran out with. 

Namjoon’s relieved beyond compare while Yoongi’s fuming, his hands tucked inside his jacket to prevent himself from squeezing you into an embrace; neither of you deserve it. 

There’s an underlying anger within Namjoon, one that lies behind the back of his throat as he checks you over for any injuries. The two of you walk ahead to Yoongi’s car while he himself trails behind, his heart significantly calmer than it was the past hour, yet nowhere near normal.

“Wanna tell me what you did?” your brother hums, trying to exhale the worry that’s embedded into him with each squeeze he gives around your shoulders.

“Went to the convenience store, bumped into my friends, then we took this impromptu roadtrip to go to the night market, then we all had our first actual shot of liquor and not just beer, my friend who owns the car turned out to be a lightweight, and now everyone just has to commute home,” you narrate in recollection, squeezing Namjoon back to try and ground him.

“Okay,” he answers simply, nodding. “Wanna tell me what happened before you did all those things?”

The breathless chuckle that leaves you is empty, void of any amusement at all. You smile nonetheless, unable to placate both yourself and Namjoon. “Nope.”

You arrive in silence to Yoongi’s car, the words unsaid between the three of you generating more tension than your brief disappearance itself.

Yoongi opens the front door for you, but you settle for sitting in the backseat.

[simpjaes]

in ur opinion who in enha is the biggest perv like the mf is so dirty minded to the point where he probably feels shame for it but can’t help himself when his mind wanders and he has to sneak off to thr nearest bathroom to get himself off because of u

MTL: hyung line + being a shameful perv

tags: this is kind of just general personality stuff, when it comes to "girls" just assume you are the girl in question.

most

★ sunghoon: be honest, you saw it coming right? sunghoon is definitely a pervert but probably cares a lot about who knows it and/or who he wants to keep that from. so on the days where it gets like....real bad....where he wants you so bad, but he knows he can't have you or something, he's running off to find somewhere, fucking anywhere to be alone so he can relieve the stress. otherwise? he won't be able to look you in the eye without saying something inappropriate or losing his mind over how hot you look in that fuckin' top. the type to slam you against the front door and start grinding the second yall step inside because he cant contain his cock and also, he wasn't allowed to say shit about it bc ur ass brought him to see your family at like...a church event or something idk

☆ jake: super perv and super bad at hiding it. also super ashamed when literally everyone sees it. i'm talking like, college parties getting to dance with you and trying to finger you on the couch type perverted. he isn't always in his right mind, either pussy drunk or feeling the intense need to be pussy drunk and no in-between. super ashamed of it though, because what's more embarrassing than walking around a college party with a boner? idk...maybe cumming in your pants because you grinded on him a bit too perfectly during that last song :/?? yeah, that might be worse. (he went home with tears in his eyes) disclaimer: jake would only be ashamed if anyone other than his girl saw him be so pathetic. he low key gets off on the embarrassment tho

★ jay: blatant pervert. the one who seems more down to earth and chill but also the one slapping your ass or staring right at your tits like "what i'd do to get my dick between those rn....."

probably struggles to get girls sometimes because of it ngl, but he has no shame about it either way. and man, when he does get between a girl's legs? everybody gonna hear about it. he might censor the name of the girl but he's doing a full show and tell otherwise. bro probably always begs to record his antics too. (he wants the praise and validation)

☆ heeseung: pervert to the max. worse than anyone and everyone. he isn't ashamed of it only because he's good at hiding it from the ppl who don't need to know. like this man would not give a fuck if he got caught slipping a hand up a skirt or eye fucking someone's sister tho (lmao), you're gonna know what he wants and he's not gonna mince words about it with you or anyone else.

what's that? you're dating jake? oh well why does that matter? Heeseung is still gonna let you know that you should think he's hot and if you want some of that dick, you know where to find him. he wants to be everyone's booty call and is an absolute simp and slut and all things in-between.

least

[ryukatters]

jealousy, jealousy — k. bakugo ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

Based off of this

cw: fluff, jealousy, this is so unserious im sorry i just can’t help it

Katsuki shouldn’t be surprised when people flirt with you. You’re stunning after all— no doubt about it. Let them stare— he thinks every single time he catches someone’s wandering eyes on you. 

And if someone tries to get bold because of what you're wearing? It’s alright, Katsuki can fight. “You can wear whatever you want, baby. You look hot as fuck, by the way.” is always the answer when you ask him if your outfit is too much. 

Point is, Bakugo isn’t ever particularly bothered by a few stray compliments or lustful gazes thrown your way. In fact, he welcomes it— let everyone acknowledge how hot his girlfriend is, because they’d never get a chance with you if Katsuki could help it.

Yet right now, he wants nothing more than to drag you back home and lock the two of you up away from the rest of the world— to keep prying eyes off of what’s his. 

“Can I get you anything else?” the waiter (whose name Katsuki makes out on his little silver name tag to be Aki) asks jovially, paying no mind to the fuming blond on the other end of the table. “Another drink, some dessert, my number?” 

You have the nerve to giggle before Bakugo cuts in with a rather terse, “Just the check, if you will.”

Katsuki can’t believe what he just saw and heard unfold right in front of his (literal) salad. Aki drops the check book in front of Katsuki before suavely picking up your dishes with a charming smile, not breaking eye contact with you. 

Bakugo’s never wanted to bash a ceramic plate over someone’s head so badly in his life. 

He places a couple hundreds on the tab before pulling out your chair and grabbing your hand. 

“We’re leaving.”

“‘Suki—”

The car ride back home is tense, to say the least. Bakugo breaks the silence a few moments after you step through the door of your shared home. 

“You had fun back there? A nice date with your new boyfriend, wasn’t it?”

“Katsuki, he was just being nice.” 

“So we’re just on a first name basis now? No spare “babe” or “handsome” for me, huh? ‘S just for him?” 

You bite back something between a cross of a sigh and laughter. It’s rare for your boyfriend to be so jealous, though you figure your waiter just happened to be a lot bolder than others for blatantly flirting with you all night while you were obviously on a date. 

“Baby,” you sigh, reaching out to comfort your boyfriend. He turns away from you with a huff, arms crossed. Katsuki is the biggest drama queen you know. (Though he would argue there’s only room for one drama queen in your relationship, and that you wear the crown.)

You simply click your teeth, sidestepping around him to face him. You run a hand across his firm chest appreciatively before wrapping it around his tie and pulling him down to meet you in a kiss. 

“I’m so lucky to have a big, strong, handsome man like you as my boyfriend,” you coo, buttering him up with dulcet words dripping in sweet honey.

He can huff and puff all he wants, but you know Katsuki can’t stay mad for long, especially when you sing praises to him like this. So you know you’ve won this battle the minute Katsuki slides an arm around your waist, returning the kiss with fervor. “Damn right you are.”

You giggle, threading your fingers through blonde locks. “He probably just wanted a big tip,” you joke, eyes crinkling in amusement at the way Katsuki’s lips automatically contort into a frown before smirking.

“If he wanted a big tip he should’ve been flirting with me,” he laughs gruffly, pulling you into a tight embrace before placing a kiss on your forehead. “We’re staying home next date night.” 

[koiibiito]

​​— fly (me to your heart) •°. *࿐

pairing: Neteyam x f!reader, platonic!Lo'ak x reader length: 5.1k words ✧ genre: fluff, romance, slight angst warnings: mild language. summary: Lo'ak wonders if Neteyam knows that he flies the highest when he is with you. tags — childhood friends to lovers, reader is half omatikayan and half tawkami, kid fic (at the beginning), does not follow the events of atwow, sully fam stays at high camp and their lives continue peacefully (as they should be), golden child neteyam + ultimate middle child lo'ak + you = an inseparable lil trio, mostly bc kiri is off doing her own thing, grandma mo'at makes some appearances. a/n. that one scene where tuk is playing with the plants in the forest with the biggest smile on her face. that got me picturing how happy younger neteyam would look, exploring the wonders of pandoran forest, free of any responsibility and fear. could NOT get that image out of my mind. so here we are ♡

Neteyam is five years old when he learns the hard way that bringing his dad’s name into arguments does not always guarantee victory. Sure, his dad was toruk makto. He doesn’t even know what those words necessarily mean, but he knows that everyone in the village thinks his dad is the most powerful na’vi. 

“You can’t fly, nobody can!”

“Except toruk makto, he is the only one who can fly.”

“I bet you can’t fly even though your dad is toruk makto!”

“Well, my daddy can fly, so I can fly too, just watch!”

He’s five years old with blood on his knees, and tears in his eyes and the horrible realization that, maybe, he can’t fly even though his mommy said he could do anything if he tried hard enough.

“Hey! Are you okay?”

Neteyam looks up through tear blurred eyes and sees a girl, not much taller than himself looking down at him worriedly. Before he knows it, there’s a huge leaf being used to wipe away the blood from his scraped knees and elbows (and nose too, apparently) with little care for how much pressure is being applied. The boys that encouraged him to "fly" are long gone, leaving him on the ground bloody and just a little upset with this new stranger that Neteyam wants to call friend.

“I’m—” He sniffs back a horrible mixture of blood and tears as he tries not to bawl something terrible. “I’m okay. Just wanted to fly but—“

It’s at that, the realization that he cannot actually fly like he thinks his dad can, despite his greatest attempt, that finally makes the torrent of tears tumble from his eyes. The bruises and cuts are nothing compared to the crushing realization that sometimes there are things that he can’t do. It’s a messy and ugly cry, and Neteyam is pretty sure that there is more snot and blood on his face than there is anything else, but it doesn’t matter to him at that point in time. All that matters is reality taking hold and crushing a childish, but very true, dream.

“That’s okay, my mama said we’re all good at something, maybe you just have to find what you’re good at.”

They are wise words for someone so young, but Neteyam likes how friendly you sound, even if he doesn’t quite understand what it is that you were saying.

You stay with him on the ground, holding the dapophet leaf against the wound on his knees with each of your hands and smile on your face. You are coaxing him gently and trying to make him laugh by telling him the story of the first time you fell from a tree as well, but Neteyam is too distraught to really remember it. He enjoys the soothing feeling of your palm on the leaf as it works its magic, and it nearly has him quieted down by the time his mom comes to bundle him up with warm hugs and quiet words of question.

His last sight of you is of you sneaking off into the bushes, mumbling something about washing his blood off your hands by the river, as he is carried away in his mom's arms.

Neteyam is five years old when he meets you for the first time, but he doesn’t even know what your name is.

—

He thinks he will catch you around, however as it turns out, the last time he would see you is the morning of the next day when your mother hauled you up onto her ikran. He remembers thinking it's strange how there were so many people gathered by the edge of the cave as he ran up to the crowd. Making his way to the front, he notices your hair—your face! and decides to join in with the others to wave goodbye to you (if a goodbye can count as a snot-faced child standing on the tip of his toes in order to appear taller so you'd notice him amongst the crowd. he isn’t sure if you saw him, but he can swear with his whole heart that your smile was directed to him).

He soon forgets about broken skin and blood on his teeth, though your kindness lingers in his memory for some time.

He still dreams of flying, every night. Draws pictures and tells his grandma about how he will one day have wings so that he doesn’t fall. “Like an ikran!” He says, cheerfully, chubby fingers pointing at his mom and her banshee, soaring about the sky that they can see from the outer edge of the high camp.

He tells Lo'ak about his dream, almost expecting the younger boy to tell him that there is no way to fly without an ikran, but his brother just thinks about it for a moment, face serious, before he looks at Neteyam very seriously and tells him that, when he does learn to fly, he has to teach Lo'ak because he would very much like to fly as well. They could go on their own adventures together.

Neteyam’s dreams of flying are crushed when, one day, sitting next to his grandma, his dad and some adults come in carrying a boy a few years older than him, injured and screaming in pain. It turns out he has failed his Iknimaya and plunged down into the heavy mist of Hallelujah Mountains. Lucky for him, he landed on one of the floating mountains, narrowly escaping death with some broken ribs, it seems.

The injured boy’s guttural screams of pain and agony is enough to scare him into contemplating his dream to fly. He crawls out of the tent and finds his brother, eyes wide, and fearfully explains that flying may not be such a good idea after all.

—

“My name is (y/n). What’s yours?”

They are sitting outside, laying on their backs under the tree and hiding from the warm summer sun when a shadow passes over them. Lo'ak immediately grumbles about it, but they both sit up in alarm, confused look on their faces. You are standing before them and Neteyam swears he has met you somewhere before.

“Um, Neteyam.” He pauses a moment, hand shading his eyes to get a better look at you. You’re tiny and almost fragile looking, eyes wide and cheerful as you hold out a hand to them. Neteyam takes it while nodding his head towards Lo'ak who is now standing up on the grass, eyeing you curiously. “That’s Lo'ak, he’s my brother.”

“I thought we could be friends, you look like you're around the same age as me.”

“No way, cuz you're a lot shorter than us.”

Neteyam kicks Lo'ak’s leg, a scowl on his face. The furrow of your brows makes him annoyed at his brother for some reason, he is only ten and he is quite sure no one should be that pretty. “ Don’t mind him, he’s the shortest in our family anyway.”

“Am not! Kiri’s hair is just poofy on top!” Lo’ak gestured to the top of his head before turning to you to explain, “Kiri is our sister, who is the same height as me.”

That makes you laugh, your whole face lighting up in a way that has Neteyam momentarily mesmerized. Yup, no one should be that pretty.

“I believe you,” you reassured the younger boy, seeing how he looks so defensive. “Anyways, you guys have the best place to hide from the sun.” There is that smile again, too bright and Neteyam has a trickle of memory but he can’t catch it fast enough, so he just shifts to make space for you and motions to the newly opened patch of shadow to you.

He offers you a smile of his own. “There is room for one more here.” He ignores the snicker from Lo'ak (the one that he got when trouble was going to abound) and instead focuses on the thank you and the smile from you as you plop yourself down to the grass. You stay there, sprawled on the ground under the tree, for the better part of the day. You are the same age as Lo’ak, a year younger than Neteyam. Your mother is of the Omatikaya people just like they are and your father is a young Olo’eyktan from the Tawkami Clan. You were born and raised in Greenhome, a village deep in the Pandoran jungle. Your father is no longer... (you trail off and your tone gets quite hushed there, and Neteyam knows well enough to leave that alone for now) so your mother brought you and moved back here. 

By the end of the conversation, Neteyam has decided that you are going to be their new best friend, because he and Lo'ak are a packaged deal, and the younger one doesn’t fight it either (he seems to have fairly warmed up to you and your inviting smile, or rather, he is simply happy to have someone else around them who is shorter than him, for once). Besides, he knows you’ll get along well with Kiri. The more the merrier, right?

When you walk past their grandma’s tent later that night, the tsahik is surprised by the joyful shouts from Lo'ak and Neteyam, who both normally stick to the boys in the clan, barely interacting with other girls their age. She doesn't find it in herself to be annoyed at your bright smile that greets the shouts. She just hushes the boys and motions for them to keep eating, otherwise the food is gonna get cold and yes, yes you are allowed to join them for dinner tomorrow if your mother allows you to, now please get back to eating.

Neteyam doesn’t tell you about his dreams of flying, not yet, but he watches you move across the forest with a sense of wonder because, if anyone could fly, it is you.

—

The three of you become inseparable. You meet up with them almost every other day, whether it be exploring around the village or to play around in the science shack. Even when you quickly become friends with some older teenagers (Neteyam is not jealous of how Tarsem is always acting like your guardian and picking you up, nestling you on his shoulders without breaking a sweat, or how easily Spider makes you laugh. Nope, not even a little bit), you still see each other several times a week.

You play and study together. But Neteyam learns everything with a passion that nearly blinds anyone who sees it. The elders praise him for his skills and propose to his dad that he should start his training as soon as possible.

So when he breaks the record for the fastest time and the youngest hunter to complete Iknimaya, no one is at all surprised. What does surprise you, is his constant refusal to go ikran riding with the other hunter trainees every single time they ask him to. He simply smiles and says thank you, but he wants to hang out with you as his training lessons have left him with less time to spend with you, his best friend (despite you insisting that he go, so that he can be closer with the other trainees and form the friendship that is actually worth his time) and he is more than okay with that.

You call him a skxawng, but are secretly relieved because you are not sure what you would have done without the older Sully around. You still spend your days with Lo'ak, and Spider has been joining you guys increasingly frequently. With Neteyam not being around as much as he used to, Lo'ak gets you in trouble more than ever, especially with the human boy around. Those two can talk you into doing anything. Mostly though, it's because you have to keep your life amusing from the boredom that follows Neteyam's absence.

You wonder if you cross his mind. Ah, he must be too excited about training that you are probably forgotten by now.

For him, even just seeing you and having a quick ‘good luck’ whispered to him in the morning before his training session seems to be enough to get him through the day. And they can be long days indeed.

—

It is Lo'ak who starts to notice it first, the way that you and Neteyam circle each other like a star and a planet. He briefly wonders who is which and voices it out to Kiri, but she tells him it is pointless, and what is really important is the way you both light up around each other. The way the two of you seem to move together so easily and completely.

It is in the forest where you and Neteyam seem to come alive though. You compete, always racing each other—in a friendly way, with laughter and lighthearted teasing. What you don’t notice is that Neteyam likes to purposely fall behind sometimes, just to take in the sight of you in his young, curious eyes.

You are a natural in the rainforest, fluid limbs and inherent grace that reminds him of waves; something delicate yet full of vigor at the same time. All cresting water and powerful crash in the midst of something so calm. Whereas Neteyam is all strong steps and confidence in his beats, power and elegance as he brings so much life in his movements.

Lo'ak sometimes sits back and watches with amusement as his brother and best friend leap through the branches, synchronized footsteps like bass thrumming in the heart of the forest.

He remembers Neteyam telling him, when they were little, that he always wanted to fly. He wonders if Neteyam knows that he achieves that, fights against the gravity pulling them down, and achieves true flight in his happiness the most when he is with you.

He never mentions it to you, just lets the two of you be, literally, around each other. It’s not the wonder of the forest that is responsible for the change in dynamic between you and Neteyam like Kiri believes, because Lo'ak starts to notice it everywhere, like during your weekly dinner with the Sullys (how quickly Neteyam stands up to fetch you a cup of water when you choke on a piece of food, how you lean into his touch as he brings the cup to your mouth while rubbing your back to soothe your sputtering cough) and even in the science shack (the most unromantic place in the world, Lo’ak rolls his eyes). Sometimes he isn’t sure how neither of you have ever noticed it. How could you not feel a pull like that?

—

Sometimes Lo'ak wonders if his brother is a complete skxawng.

Actually, he doesn’t wonder, he knows. Because there is no way that two people so completely, obviously, and wholly enraptured with one another could possibly be so blind to each other’s feelings. And to their own, for that matter. It simply is not rationally possible.

“Where are you going with Spider?”

You blink and stare somewhat owlishly at Neteyam. “Um, we're going to the Utral Aymokriyä?”

The look on Neteyam’s face lets it be known exactly what he thinks of that plan of action. You cannot possibly be serious right now. Have you not spent enough time with Spider? That boy is always with you and Lo'ak whenever he is gone for training, already well on his way in replacing his spot in your little trio. Are you going to replace him with Spider too?

He walks up to you and stops right in front of your face, all the while staring down at you incredulously. “But Spider doesn’t even have a kuru.”

Lo'ak rolls his eyes and turns back to his book. Knowing his older brother, instead of being honest about his jealousy, Neteyam is going to make it all about the human boy’s lack of neural queue. He really wishes that he’s not here right now.

“It doesn’t matter! Spider said he’s happy to keep me company,” It is almost comical how small your voice gets when faced with a disapproving Neteyam, but there is still a defiance in you, a fire that is not about to be cowed by a furrowed brow and some anger. “Besides, you went there with Ro’ate last week!”

“That was different! That was a date!”

Lo'ak snorts and looks up just in time to see your eyes widen and you fidget somewhat uncomfortably. What does the skxawng think he's doing by saying that?

Adding fuel to the fire, that's what.

Neteyam is fifteen years old when he finds out what jealousy is, the dark yet haunting rage that consumes him for reasons that, at this point in time, he does not understand. He is fifteen years old when he has his first fight with you, one that lasts two weeks and makes everyone miserable (and the coldness doesn’t fade until nearly a month later, after he overheard you turning down a random Omatikayan boy’s invitation to go ikran riding together).

Neteyam is fifteen years old when he discovers that he might be better at falling than at flying, but he is too young to really understand what it could mean.

—

“You know, when I was five, my mom told me I could do anything I wanted to.”

You make a noise in the back of your throat to let Neteyam know you are indeed listening, eyes still on the sky, body warm next to his as the two of you lay on top of one of the floating mountains nearing eclipse.

You are seventeen and eighteen respectively, and it is time for you to return to Greenhome. Your grandparents have been asking for your presence for you are nearing the age of adulthood. Neteyam doesn’t really know what to do about it. It’s been forever since he has been with you (at least, to him it feels that way even if it has only been eight years) and he doesn’t know how he and Lo'ak are going to cope. Spider too, and Kiri and Tuk, for that matter. Or maybe it’s just him that feels like there is a hole opening up in his chest every time he thinks about your departure.

It feels like he's a toddler all over again, falling to the pull of gravity and knowing, mid-fall, that it is going to hurt like hell when he hits the ground.

And, like when he was five, Neteyam doesn’t really care until he realizes that he can’t really fight this force and, unlike what his mom said, he really couldn’t do anything he wanted to. He couldn’t figure out the tightness in his chest, or the fact that you are leaving, going farther away than you ever had in all your years together, couldn’t—

He must have been quiet for too long, because you finally turned your gaze from the sky to look at him, one eyebrow raised as if to prompt the other.

Neteyam finds it funny that he has known you for this long and has never told you his childhood dream. He laughs and sits up, and after catching a glimpse of your wide eyes questioning him, he tries his best to not look at you.

“You know what I always wanted to do?”

You pretend to think. “Be the best warrior in the clan?”

Neteyam shakes his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Nah,” He tilts his head back to look at cotton candy colored sky, heart heavily lodged in his throat for reasons he can’t quite fathom. “I wanted to be able to fly.”

—

You leave with promises to come back and visit. And you are good with keeping your word, you visit them a lot, though not as often as Neteyam would like you to. Because whenever you came to visit, you are busy showing Lo’ak the special toys and weapons you brought with you, or you are too preoccupied with showing Kiri the different medicines and plants you had to learn during your lessons with the Tsahik of the Tawkami Clan (one who happens to be your grandmother, coincidentally. She is one gentle yet very fierce old lady). 

Unbeknownst to Neteyam, you are most excited to see him, wanting nothing more than to share stories of your life at your other home, to tell him all about the wonders of Greenhome because oh, how much you wish he could come with you to see it for himself. 

It doesn’t stop Neteyam from pulling away little by little, doesn’t stop him from fighting the force of gravity for a bit longer, just because he can. Because he wants to delay the pain of hitting concrete a bit longer.

He fails as he dismounts his ikran one day, after a hunting session with his dad that he set up on purpose in order to avoid seeing you one more time, only to see Lo'ak leaning against his own ikran, a scowl on his face.

Lo'ak walks up to him, just in time to hear the last part of their dad’s sentence: “... been distracted today. Dismissed.” The Olo'eyktan, upon walking away, turns around to yell to his sons, “And get ready for dinner!”

Lo’ak walks beside Neteyam without a word, but continues to scowl at his older brother as he puts his hunting weapons away. It is uncharacteristic of him to not make any snide remarks that it is making latter uncomfortable, for the silence is a little too loud. He finally faces the other and it takes everything in him to not roll his eyes, because he just knows that Lo’ak is up to something.

“What?”

Lo'ak scoffs. “Don’t give me that bullshit, you know what. Why are you doing this to her?”

Neteyam is silent, refusing to acknowledge that he even knows what Lo'ak is even talking about, despite it being on his mind since forever. He decides to feign confusion and puts on a puzzled face before shaking his head and trying to walk away.

He is stopped by a hand, stronger than he is expecting on his shoulder. “You're being a dick and you know it.” Lo'ak opens his mouth, words on the tip of his tongue, but he stops himself at the last second. 

“Have you seen Neteyam anywhere?” you asked Lo’ak, breath short and puffy, an indication that you had been running around in a rush. And indeed you were, you had been all over the place in search for one boy in particular. You had not seen your 8-foot-tall best friend at all for the past several times you went back to High Camp to visit. 

“Dad took him out to go hunting,” Lo’ak shrugged. The disappointed look on your face did not go unnoticed by the young boy. “Dude, you have the worst sense of timing to come visit.” he joked, an attempt to cheer you up a little. You laughed.

“It’s fine. Dealing with one Sully boy is already too much work for me anyway!” 

“Bro what’s that supposed to mean?!” 

He knew it was not a coincidence that his brother had been gone for nearly the entire day. The first time it happened? Sure, it was perfectly understandable given who their dad is and his strict training sessions. The second time around? Lo’ak’s suspicion started to grow, especially since they had just gone hunting the day before. This time? He was pretty sure he literally overheard Neteyam begging their dad to take him hunting further out from the Hallelujah Mountains.

Lo’ak internally sighed, praying to Eywa for Neteyam to get his ass back to the village as fast as possible before he hears it from Lo’ak himself. “They’ll be back soon though, don’t worry! You’ll get to see him today.”

You shook your head, “Maybe next time, I have to be back before eclipse.”  Though the sadness that stemmed from your longing for Neteyam lingered, you were overtaken by the fear of getting home late. The thought of disobeying your grandmother’s stern words—you shuddered. You dare not risk arriving home late, for the consequence was that you would not be allowed to visit at all. And you absolutely had to be back for another visit, perhaps you would get to see Neteyam the next time you come. 

Neteyam is unconsciously frowning, trying to get his wits together when Lo'ak’s words stop him cold.

“You do not fly as high without her, skxawng.”

Neteyam is eighteen and does not know reality could hurt this much without blood on his body.

—

“Why are you avoiding me?”

Neteyam is cornered, stuck in the confines of his tent (his bedroom, as he calls it), covered in sweat and bruises (he curses that his mom just led you here without question. so this is why she asked where he was and for him to get home immediately. he wanted to punch himself in the face for being so oblivious). She must’ve told you exactly where to go to find him as he throws himself into fishing to forget about your breathtaking smile and beautiful eyes.

He has not forgotten that you are back for a visit. Rather, he does not see a reason to lie to his mom of his whereabouts. He has been careful this time, no more training with dad as both the said man and his skxawng of a brother has now figured out that he is only doing so to run away from you.

He doesn’t want to answer your question, so he doesn’t. He sighs heavily and turns away from you, the perfect picture of his stubbornness that has you cracking a small grin.

At least certain things never change.

After a moment of silence you sit yourself in front of Neteyam and look more defeated than he has ever seen. It makes his chest tighten painfully, but this time he knows why; and it makes him feel even worse.

Neteyam is nearly nineteen when he admits to himself that he is in love with you, his best friend, and has been for far too long and it hurts because he doesn’t have words and doesn’t think he deserves you and doesn’t—

“You know, when I was really young, there is this little kid that I remember meeting,” You are not looking at him, instead you are focused on a photograph of you, Neteyam and Lo’ak, teeth blinding through smiles that are as wide as they can be, as the three of you struggle to hold a really big fish with your small hands. You remember that day like no other, Jake had taken you and his sons to the river and Neteyam caught a fish on his first try.

Neteyam, the Mighty Fisherman.

Neteyam, who excels in everything he does.

Neteyam, the golden child, who easily succeeds at doing just about anything.

“He was pretty banged up, blood everywhere because he tried to fly,” You try to stifle a laugh. “I thought he looked oddly strong, standing there covered in blood and trying not to cry. I helped him, got in trouble because I got blood everywhere on me and my mother got so worried, but—“

Neteyam feels like he can’t breathe, memories bubbling up of big eyes and a soft presence.

“He told me he wanted to fly.”

You finally look up then, a dreamy smile on your face courtesy of the sweet memories as you turn to face him. “I told you that you were good at something, remember?”

There are no words, so the only thing Neteyam can do is to settle with a nod, lump in his throat.

“Turns out you’re good at everything. I just… I just didn’t think you’d be good at making me—”

“I love you.”

It comes out of nowhere, spilling out of Neteyam’s mouth before you can finish whatever it is that you are saying. And he doesn’t know why he says it then, why he waits until you have started to drift apart before he tries to fix it. Maybe because he just realized it himself, realized that sometimes there is something more painful than hitting the ground. And that was hitting the ground all alone.

Then again, maybe he has already reached that point. He has inevitably crashed to the ground head first and it is painful.

When Neteyam looks up, he doesn’t know what to expect. You look stunned, mouth still open and eyes wide. It takes a moment for you to even blink, as he can see that you are processing his words. And you are taking forever—how hard is it to understand three simple words? He knows that you know what the words mean. His dad tells his mom those very same words all the time. It’s a phrase from the sky people, is what Neteyam was told, and it holds a great significance about your feelings for another person.

The smallest of smiles tugs on the side of your mouth.

“What do you mean, Neteyam?”

He sighs heavily and shakes his head. This is the point of no return, he realizes. He will have to try his best to explain what he means, make you understand that he is in—

“love, I mean uh,” Dammit, why is his brain and his mouth not cooperating right now? “With you, I just can’t. You make it hard for me to— you just—“

You laugh, light and free like heavenly bells ringing that makes Neteyam’s cheeks heat up and stomach churn. But if he thinks that is thrilling, like the feeling before gravity takes hold, it is nothing compared to the feeling when your lips crash into his, laughter smothered between the two of you.

It’s awkward and his lips are chapped and rough, and neither of you really know what you are doing, but that doesn’t stop it from being the best damn kiss Neteyam will ever experience. It’s falling and flying and soaring in the sky all at once and the exhilaration is overwhelming.

He has no doubt that he looks completely stunned when you pull away. Taking a deep breath, he decides to try again.

“I see you,” Neteyam whispers, very tenderly, as gentle as zephyrs blowing below the violet.

You look at him with unwavering eyes and your hand finds his, intertwining your fingers together. As if you’re enchanted by his whole being, his voice, his determined gaze looking into your own. “I see you, Neteyam.”

You have to resist the urge to lean in, because all you want to do right now is to kiss him, to feel his lips on yours again. 

“And you know, I love you too.”

Neteyam is nineteen when he finally knows what flying feels like.

a/n. haven't written anything in like, over a year and a half. im rusty and i needed quite some brainpower (ಥ﹏ಥ) got this idea during winter break vacation but couldn't start writing until i got back. here we are 2 days later with this the outcome.

[kibblz-n-bitz]

Putting On A Show

Summary: After liberating a country, you and Luffy have some "fun" in front of an audience.

8k words

Tags: Exhibitionism (obviously), multiple orgasms, squirting, a hint of humiliation, creampie, oral sex, penetrative sex, biting

I've worked so hard on this fic! I hope y'all enjoy (I know I did😉)

Laughter and joy filled the air. You let out a relieved sigh, turning to your captain sitting at the head of the table. Bandages littered his skin, reminders of their most recent battle. Despite them, he was laughing and clapping along to the music Brook was playing. 

It was a fierce battle on some random island you and your crew had managed to stumble upon. Some powerful pirate had taken over the land, and the people on it lived in fear. It was only a matter of time before your captain decided to defeat the other pirate, just because someone had shown him charity (All it took was a little girl giving him a sandwich). The strawhats were all exhausted from the battle, but ready to relax with a banquet held in their name. You smiled to yourself as you looked around at your crewmates. 

The king of the island approached your table. You were giggling and chatting with Nami about stealing when he cleared his throat, announcing his presence to the distracted pirates. 

“I cannot express my gratitude enough,” He began, “I never would have thought that pirates would be the ones to liberate my country as they were also the ones to enslave it. Please, help yourself to as much food and drink as you’d like. There’s plenty to go around.”

“We will.” Zoro and Luffy said in unison.

“There is another matter I would like to discuss with your captain.” He cleared his throat once more, trying to get the attention of Luffy, who had his mouth stuffed with food in a matter of seconds. “Walk with me, if you will.”

“Can I take this with me?” Luffy picked up the biggest bowl of meat he could find. The king chuckled with a “but of course.”

The king left with your captain and his food in tow, and the strawhats went back to their own plates.

“What do you think that was all about? Seemed kinda serious.” Usopp noted as he brought some noodles into his mouth.

“Maybe he’s giving us some treasure as a gift!” Nami squealed, her eyes practically turning into Beri signs.

“Or perhaps he’s lured our captain away so he could kill him while nobody was around.” Robin said. Usopp shouted “that’s not funny!” as Chopper and Nami stared at her with a shocked expression.

“Gimme a break. You think that old bastard could take out our captain?” Zoro huffed as he took a swig of his drink. His cheeks were a bit flushed, as he was well onto his 18th cup of sake. “He’s probably just thanking Luffy or somethin’. Nothing our captain can’t handle.”

You leaned back in your chair. Despite everyone’s dismissive behavior, you really were curious as to what the two were discussing. Like Usopp pointed out, the king looked rather serious. But Zoro was right, if he was a threat then Luffy could definitely handle it. Your captain was reliable like that, and it was one of the many qualities you loved him for.

Your relationship with your captain was relatively new. You had joined the strawhat pirate crew after they had reunited in Sabaody. It was a funny coincidence, actually. At that time, you had heard many stories about Strawhat Luffy and his wild behavior. Of course, most of your information came from news articles, so naturally he was painted as a violent criminal, untamed and extremely dangerous (As if his bounty wasn’t intimidating enough). But, the first time you had ever laid eyes on him, he was running around with some big ass backpack on, and a mustache- a poor excuse for a disguise. The marines were around and he looked frantic, unintentionally drawing more and more attention to himself.

You rolled your eyes. Was this really the guy who declared war against the world government? The same guy who fought at Marineford? Really? You decided to take pity on the poor boy as he ran around the archipelago like a chicken without its head. When he ran past you, you quickly grabbed the bag he had on his back and used its weight to shove him into a nearby alley. Surprisingly, the alley was wide enough that the bag fit. 

“What the hell are you doing?” You whisper-yelled. Luffy shook his head, as if he just now realized he was in an alley with you and not out in the open anymore.

“I’m looking for my crew. There’s too many marines out there. Stupid marines.” He huffed, crossing his arms. You fought the urge to laugh. He looked a little ridiculous with his disguise. 

“You’re Monkey D. Luffy, right?” 

“Yep. That’s me!” He grinned, before pausing and slapping his hands over his mouth. “I-I mean… Whoooo’re you talking about? I dunno that guy. He sounds kinda cool though.”

You laughed. He was such a terrible liar. It was almost… cute. The way he pursed his lips and refused to make eye contact as he pretended as if he didn’t blow his own cover a few seconds before.

“Don’t worry Luffy. I’m not gonna sell you out.” You snickered.

“Then why did ya help me?” He asked with a tilt of his head. You hummed to yourself, thinking. You weren’t entirely sure yourself. You just felt the need to help him when he was lost.

“I don’t know. I just figured you could use it. Your disguise is pretty shitty by the way,” You said as you stretched, considering your next words carefully. “I can… help you find your crew, if you’d like.”

The boy lit up. He jumped forward and grabbed your shoulders, his eyes shining like stars. You briefly regretted your decision, wondering if you’d made a mistake.

“REALLY? That would be great!!!! Thank you!” He practically shouted. You slapped a hand over his mouth as you noticed an officer nearby turn his head in your direction. There was no way in hell this boy could get around the archipelago by himself and not get caught.

“Could you at least try to be quiet? I’m doing you a favor here.” You chastised him and sighed, once again doubting your decision. “Do you know where you’re supposed to be meeting them?”

Luffy nodded and told you the grove he needed to be at. You weren’t too far away, but the minute you got closer to their ship Luffy took off, grabbing your hand and dragging you in the process. So much for leading him there, you grumbled to yourself in your head.

Once Luffy saw the Sunny he immediately catapulted himself towards it, taking you along with him. You didn’t expect him to take you with him. In fact, you weren’t even sure if Luffy was aware that he’d brought you along with him, because he never looked back once the Sunny came into view. You watched as his crew cried out and hugged him, feeling a bit out of place. You inched to the side of the ship, looking for a place to get off and back onto the ground. 

“Luffy, who is that?” a voice called attention to you. You blushed and pushed yourself to the rails, nervous under the infamous pirates gazes. This is it, you panicked internally, they’re gonna think I’m an intruder and try to kill me. Images of news stories warning of crew members like the hunter Roronoa Zoro and Nico Robin flooded your mind, and you swallowed. Your mouth was dry.

“That’s my friend! She’s the one who helped me get here actually.” Luffy chirped, running to stand next to you. The boy snickered, “If it weren’t for her, I would’ve been caught by the marines!”

“Okay, what’s her name?” Zoro asked, arms crossed and heads tossed to the side. God, he was fucking scary. Sporting a scarred eye and bulging muscles.

“It’s… uh...” Luffy trailed off, hand to his chin. He turned to you. “What’s ya name again?”

“STOP BRINGING RANDOM PEOPLE YOU DON’T KNOW THE NAMES OF ONTO THE SHIP!” Nami barked as she conked her captain on the head.

“It’s… Y/N. I didn’t know that I’d be meeting you all here, I just saw Luffy and it seemed like he needed my help, so…” You trailed off, unsure of yourself. You cursed yourself mentally. I’m making myself sound like a wet napkin, you groaned mentally. 

“Y/N!!! Welcome to my crew!” Luffy laughed and slapped a hand onto your back. You choked on your spit. What the fuck did he just say?

“LUFFY!” The entire group shouted in unison.

“Whaat? It’s no big deal. She’s really strong!” That much was true. You spent your days as an assassin and that required a lot of training. Luffy huffed and crossed his arms. “And anyways, I’m the captain and I want her on my crew!”

“Luffy, did you even ask her if she wants to join? She looks uncomfortable.” Nami let out a frustrated sigh, bringing a hand to her temples. “I have to apologize for my captain Y/N. He can be a selfish, reckless idiot most of the time. Would you like to join us?” 

You smiled. Of course he was. But the more time you spent with him, the more you felt drawn to him. He had some sort of boyish charm, wild and carefree. He inspired you, and you felt disappointed at the thought of leaving him and going back to your boring, repetitive life.

You looked at Luffy and met his gaze. He grinned at you. Maybe joining him was a good idea. Was it crazy to want adventure in your life? You weren’t sure, but you wanted to find out. Turning back to Nami, you nodded with a surge of confidence.

Smiling to yourself, you remembered your days with Luffy. You were both drawn to each other, and the crew noticed immediately. It didn’t take long for you to warm up to the crew either. They all loved you the way you loved them. And it didn’t hurt that you were quite attractive. Curvy and soft, you loved the way you looked and it was safe to say that others did too.

You were lost in thought when Luffy roamed back to the table, without the bowl. He had a weird look on his face, like he was thinking really hard about something. That was definitely a first for Luffy.

“Something the matter, buddy?” Franky asked. “What’d that old geezer want with ya anyway?”

“He told me somethin’ about me and Y/N,” He said as he scooped food onto a brand new plate. No clue where he even got it from. Your brow raised. “He said somethin’ ‘bout a tradition ceremony or somethin’. Has to do with me and her. He said there was free food! And treasure after the event ceremony thing!”

Nami squealed, fist bumping the air. You were still confused. “What event, Luffy? And what do we have to do with it?”

“Somfin abou a…” Luffy swallowed the food in his mouth he was trying to speak around. “Constipation… in front of an audience I think? He said it’s s’posed to be really fun for us though.”

Your face scrunched, you were even more confused than before. The rest of the crew looked at each other, equally as confused. They knew their captain gravely misunderstood something important the king had said, and it was up to them to decipher what he meant. They sat in silence for a minute before the king once again approached the table.

“Before those pirates had taken over our village, we had a tradition during banquets like these. A couple chosen for the night would feast, consummate in front of an audience, and be rewarded with riches and good fortune afterward.”

In a matter of seconds, Sanji spit the wine he was taking a sip of onto Zoro. You choked on your own saliva and, at the same time as Nami, cried out “WHAT?” Usopp flushed and Robin did as well, she brought a hand to her mouth with an almost scandalized gasp. Luffy looked around, confused. 

“Huh? What? What does that mean?” Luffy asked with a tilt to his head.

“Forget it! They’re not gonna do some weird sex show for you damn perverts!” Nami yelled, pointing at the king. His expression remained the same- a kind, seemingly warm smile.

“Oh it is certainly more than that. It is an act our ancestors have honored for a very long time. It is to honor the couple, to bring them good fortune. We see it as a tribute of sorts.” He tried to explain.

“Waow! Didn’t know this island was full of perverts.” Franky chuckled with approval.

“Well, it’s kinda too late to say no now, ‘cause I already agreed to it.” Luffy shrugged before shoving more food into his mouth. Your mouth went dry as another wave of shock passed over the group.

“YOU IDIOT!” Nami hollered at her captain. “Do you ever think about anyone other than yourself? Think about Y/N! What if she doesn’t want to do this?”

Luffy blinked, then turned to you. He hadn’t thought about that. Luffy didn’t really care whether or not people saw the two of you together. The captain lived without an ounce of shame in his body, so the prospect of food, sex with you, and treasure sounded like a really good idea. But the way you were staring down at the table told him you didn’t think so.

You were silent for a minute as the crew argued with each other. Looking up at the king, you asked, “How much treasure?”

The crew went silent as they waited for the king’s response.

“We have lots of gold and riches left from the old pirates.” The king stroked his beard in thought. “And since you’ve helped our kingdom, we are willing to give you half.”

Nami’s jaw dropped. She whipped her head to you, and you felt you knew what she was going to say. But instead, she sighed.

“Y/N… you don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” She reminded you as she placed her hands on your shoulders. The navigator sat back down in her seat beside you as you stared at your plate once again, thinking. You could feel the crews’ eyes on you, waiting for your decision. 

You mentally weighed the pros and cons of actually going through with this. On one hand, you were a little embarrassed at the thought of showing such an intimate part of yourself to a bunch of strangers. But on the other, more convincing hand, there was a really big reward at the end. It’s not like you were going to see these people again anyways. Was an hour or two of getting plowed by your boyfriend in front of a crowd worth it for millions or beris worth of treasure? 

Yes, you decided, it was.

“I’ll do it.” You turned to the king. He nodded with the same smile on his face as before. 

“Very well. I will make preparations at once. Our servants will fetch you when the time is right.” With that, the king had left the room.

An awkward silence momentarily fell over the group. Usopp and Sanji stared at you with mouths wide, in shock. Nami was also surprised, if the look on her face said anything about it.

“Didn’t take you for a pervert either, Y/N!” Franky said with a chuckle.

“Y/N… are you sure you want to do this? It’s okay if you don’t want to… we’d all understand if you called this off.” Nami reached over to grab your hand, concern etched onto her face. “Don’t do this just for us.”

“Trust me, I’m not.” You reassured Nami and held her hand. “And I’m not a pervert either, Franky. I just figured that if Luffy doesn’t care, then why should I? It’s not like we’ll be visiting this island again. And besides- we’re pirates! I’d be damned if I’m letting all that treasure go to waste.”

“Well, if you say so. Just don’t say we didn’t warn you.” Usopp shrugged, his face a little flushed.

“Hm? What do you mean, Usopp?” You placed your chin on your hand and leaned forward a bit, a shit-eating grin crawling onto your face. You narrowed your eyes at him across the table. “You wanna watch?”

You laughed when he screamed, a flush blooming onto his face. He sputtered and the others joked around, falling back into their casual banter. You watched them resume their old conversation when you felt a hand lace through yours. You smiled, knowing it was Luffy. He was physically affectionate, and loved holding your hand whenever he could.

“‘M sorry I didn’t ask ya first.” Luffy said as he finished off his 4th plate. That boy could eat. 

“It’s okay. Besides, this should be fun, right?” You nudged him with your shoulder, giggling at his wide grin. He nodded eagerly.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You stared at yourself in the mirror, hands clammy and body cold. You were nervous, now that ceremony was moments away. 

Earlier, two maids came to collect you from where you were sitting with your crew. There was a small preparation ritual you needed to go through, they explained. They led you to some sort of spa-room, with various amounts of fruits and pastries on a table in one corner. They encouraged you to help yourself and relax. You took a warm bath, with sweet scented herbs wafting through the air and petals in the tub. After you had climbed out, there was clothing laid out for you. A white silk feathered robe, one that hugged your curves and felt smooth against your skin. Nothing else.

I guess they want us to get straight to the point, you thought to yourself. You rolled your shoulders, trying to shake the anxiety out of your bones. You wished Luffy were with you. He’d kiss your fears away and tell you that you’d be fine. He’d help you get out of your head and live in the moment. But he wasn’t here. The royal servants had you two prepare yourselves in separate rooms. A soft smile spread across your face as you thought of Luffy, who had probably eaten all the treats laid out for him and asked for more. 

Sitting on a cushy loveseat, you ate some fruit and anxiously awaited the servants’ return. Waiting like this would kill you, but it wasn’t like you could leave and find your boyfriend yourself. You would just have to sit here, just you and your brain, and wait to be called so you could have sex in front of a crowd. No big deal. 

A soft knock on the door saved you from your spiraling thoughts. The servant from before peeked her head through it. “Ms. L/N? The ceremony is ready for you now.”

They led you down a strange and looming hallway. You tried to psych yourself up. It worked at first, but started to lose its effect the more you walked.

“Y/N? HEEEEY!” You heard a shout from behind you. You didn’t get the chance to turn before a weight collided with your back, pushing you forward. Steadying yourself, you reached an arm back to pet through the soft, jet-black hair you knew you’d find. 

“Hi Luffy.” You smiled. You could feel your anxiety melting away in his presence.  You could feel the warmth of his smile as he tightened his arms around you and nuzzled into the back of your neck. This is what you loved about him. The way he was able to calm your nerves and make you feel so safe and warm just by being near him. “You excited?”

“Hmm? For what?” Luffy unraveled himself off of you so he could lace your fingers together. The two of you kept walking, following the royal servants. They claimed you two were nearing the ceremony’s auditorium. You raised an eyebrow at Luffy before realization dawned across his face. “Oh! That?” he shrugged, “I dunno. I’m more excited about bein’ with ya. I don’t really care if people see us, so it doesn’t make much of a difference to me.”

You blushed at Luffy’s boldness, but you had expected an answer like that from someone like him. With a squeeze of his hand, the two of you approached two large doors.

“Beyond these doors is the entrance to the stage, where you two will be conducting the ceremony. We wish you the best of luck and we thank you for all that you have done for us.” The servants bowed their heads and opened the doors.

You and Luffy looked at each other and you took a deep breath before nodding and stepping through them together.

You and him walked onto a stage. A large bed was placed in the middle of it. White sheets, a couple pillows, and a small nightstand with two water bottles were the only things there. You swallowed, mouth dry. You heard a few cheers as the two of you made your way to the bed. Luffy looked at you. He had a feeling you might be nervous, so he squeezed your hand before lifting his other to your face and pulling you in. His lips met yours. It was… surprisingly gentle. Normally Luffy is fueled by passion lit deep in his stomach. But when his face pressed against yours, he was sweet and soft.  

“Don’t think about them,” He murmured against your lips when he pulled back. He brought the hand that held yours to the other side of your face, cradling your head between his palms. He felt so warm. “Just focus on me, yeah?” 

You nodded and sighed into his mouth when he pulled you in once more. You were so wrapped up in your lips moving against Luffy’s you didn’t notice you were moving, until Luffy pulled away to sit back on the bed. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you onto his lap. He pulled his hat from where it hung against his collarbone to place it on the bed. His garments were similar to yours in that they were silky white, but he only wore baggy parachute pants held up with a drawstring. You assumed he was also bare underneath, if his half hard length had anything to say about it. You whined into his mouth as you straddled him, one hand buried in his soft jet-black hair. The other trailed down his neck and over the X-shaped scar on his chest. Luffy gasped into your mouth, his scar tissue sensitive. His hands tightened on your waist and he pushed you onto him, trying to garner a bit of friction against his rapidly hardening member. 

“F-fuck, Y/N…” It was Luffy’s turn to sigh into your mouth. With a shudder, he brought up a hand to undo the belt that held your robe closed. When it fell open, Luffy grabbed your waist- underneath the robe this time. You whimpered when his hand gripped your flesh and squeezed, his palms igniting fires against your skin. When he went to pull the robe off of you, you stopped him.

“Not yet.” You whispered against his lips when he tilted his head at you in confusion. He seemingly understood because he went back to wrestling his tongue with yours, your kisses becoming more and more heated as time passed. You swayed your hips against his, reveling in the whine that escaped from Luffy’s mouth. He seemed to get a little more restless, because he suddenly stood, giggling when you gasped against him. He turned around with you in his arms, before tossing you onto the bed. You yelped.

“L-Luffy!” You looked at him, scandalized. Luffy shrugged it off with a laugh, kicking off his sandals and crawling after you. He had a dark look in his eyes as he situated himself between your legs. The two of you laid together on the bed with your sides facing the audience. You figured Luffy did it this way so you wouldn’t have to face them directly, and your heart swelled with love for the man in front of you. He could be considerate when it really mattered, and it made moments like these all the more special. Your hand twisted into his hair and pulled him back down to you. He groaned into your mouth and rutted his hips into yours. He was hard, painfully so, and you wanted to help him the way you knew how. You locked your legs and rolled him over. He grunted in surprise at the position change, blinking up at you with wide eyes. You pressed a kiss to his lips playfully and pulled back to sit on top of him.

“Let me take care of you right now, m’kay?” You leaned back down and pressed kisses to his neck. Luffy groaned, head falling back against the pillow. His breath came quicker as you trailed kisses down his chest, pausing momentarily to suck on a nipple, before continuing downward. He was full on panting by the time you reached his navel. “Luffy… Look at me. Watch me.”

He brought his head up from the pillow and blinked his eyes open to watch you. You pulled back momentarily to undo the drawstring of his pants. You slid the silk down his hips, eyeing down his length as it slapped against his lower belly. He pushed himself up onto his hands to watch you move your hair out of your face and grip his length, hissing through his teeth as you gave it a few pumps. You brought it to your mouth and kissed the tip sweetly, before locking eyes with your captain again and dragging your tongue up the underside of his dick. He hissed as you traced the vein running along his dick, and grunted when you finally sealed your lips around his tip

“Fhh- Y/N… stop teasing,” Luffy whined, his hips squirming to try and get you to take more into your mouth. You grinned as much as you could and pushed his hips down against the bed. Deciding to have mercy on the poor boy, you tightened your lips around him and sucked gently, taking him deeper into your mouth. He groaned as he watched you bring a hand to stroke his dick, using your spit to help your hand glide easier. You whined at the feeling of his weight on your tongue, bobbing your head. Luffy was shaking, bringing a hand to card through your hair. You could tell he was trying to be patient and not fuck your throat the way he wanted to, so you decided to reward him by swallowing him deeper. He let out a cry before whimpering, “C-can I? Please?” 

“Please what, Luffy?” You pulled off of his dick with a pop and stroked him as you waited for him to answer. He squirmed and whimpered as you gripped him tighter. “Use your words.”

Luffy let out an exasperated sigh as he held your face, forcing you to look at him. “Can I fuck your throat? Please?”

You hummed and nodded, kissing his tip before opening your mouth, the flat of your tongue pressing against the underside of his dick. Looking up at Luffy, the two of you locked eyes as you sucked him deeper, deeper down your throat until your nose nestled in the coarse hair at the base of his cock. He threw his head back and groaned as his hand tightened in your hair, holding your head in place. His hips ground against your face. Drool spilled out of the sides of your mouth, your chin sloppy and messy. You tried to hold your breath as your throat constricted around his cock. When he finally loosened his grip on your hair, you pulled back to catch your breath. You didn’t take too long though, because after a moment you dove forward again, pushing yourself past the tears that slid down your cheeks. You hummed as Luffy used his hold on you to build up a steady rhythm, alternating between bobbing you up and down his length and stuffing himself down your throat.

Luffy was panting and whining, and you could tell he was close before he stuttered the warning to you. This made you double your efforts, sucking him down and swirling your tongue around his cock. Luffy let out a broken moan, and that was all the warning you got before he pushed you as far as he could go. You held yourself still as he released down your throat, swallowing as much as you could. Luffy always came a lot, so even when he released you and you pulled back you still had enough cum in your mouth keeping it full. You blinked up at him through teary lashes and swallowed, panting and finally taking the chance to catch your breath. Fuck, you looked absolutely wrecked. Teary-eyed, flushed, and face covered in drool and cum, you sat back on your haunches. At some point, your robe had slipped off your shoulders, revealing your gasping chest. 

“Fuck Y/N.” Luffy cursed as he pulled you in for a kiss. “Ya felt. So. Fucking. Good.” He gasped in between kisses. You whimpered into his mouth, shrugging the rest of the robe off and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His hand found your waist as the other cradled the back of your head, deepening the kiss. You loved his hands. They left scorching trails in their wake, seemingly lighting up your body from the inside out. You wanted him so badly, the crowd of people watching you far from your mind. Your thoughts quickly vanished from your mind when Luffy swiped a finger through your folds, sighing at how wet he found you. He kissed down your neck as he slipped a finger inside of you. You sighed and humped his hand, twisting a hand into his hair. He smirked from where he was sucking a mark into your neck. He surprised you again by picking you up and turning around, laying you against the pillows.

“My turn!” He chirped against your lips as he began kissing down your body. He stopped to leave a few love bites, sucking on your neck and collar. When he reached your chest, he sucked a nipple into his mouth, bringing up a hand to play with the other. His other hand dove lower. You whined, squirming as he toyed with your clit and pinched your nipple at the same time. He kissed and nipped at your chest, delighting in the marks he left behind. He gave equal attention to your other breast before continuing his descent, groping and squeezing your body. He loved how soft you were. It made you really fun to cuddle and he loved the bruises his fingers would leave behind from grabbing your hips too tightly. He looked up at you when he finally reached your dripping cunt. He moved your legs to rest over his shoulders as he pressed kisses to your plush thighs. Using his hold on your legs, he spread them a little more, smiling as he gazed down at your wet pussy. He licked his lips, suddenly giddy. “Ready?”

He didn’t wait for your answer before he ran his tongue through your folds. Your gasp turned into a whimper as his tongue lapped over you more, flicking your clit. He groaned into your cunt at your taste on his tongue. Luffy continued with his languid swipes before pushing his tongue a little deeper, ducking past your entrance. This is where his devil fruit came in handy! His tongue stretched into you, flicking at your walls before retreating, only to repeat a mere second later. Your hips twitched and you whined out into the air before gasping for breath. Your hand reached down to run a hand into Luffy’s hair. The other grasped the pillow. Luffy looked up at you as he plunged his tongue deeper and deeper into you, playfulness shining in his eyes at your reaction. You moaned and writhed against him out of your mind with pleasure.

“M-more… Luffy,” You mewled as you clenched around his tongue. He switched up, pulling his tongue out of you and replacing it with his fingers. He huffed against your cunt, taking a moment to catch his breath. It didn’t last long though, because soon enough he nosed his way forward, sealing his lips around your clit. He sucked the bundle of nerves into his mouth as he dipped two fingers inside of you. Slick, wet noises filled the air. You cried out and writhed against him, causing Luffy to grunt and use his grip on your waist to pin you to the bed. “‘M so close Luffy please.”

You were mindless. Rolling your hips against his face, chasing your peak. It was clumsy but slow, with no real rhythm, but growing greedier by the minute. Your thighs began to quiver around Luffy’s head. This didn’t go unnoticed by him, as he doubled down on his efforts. He alternated between slow and fast licks against your clit, while stretching his fingers to reach and curl deep within you. 

“Mmf- Fuck! Luffy,” You gasped, voice wobbling. “I’m s- hnngh… S-so close I- haah… I’m gon-na -!”

Your hips lifted off of the bed, trying to twist out of Luffy’s grasp. He lifted your lower body up a little in his arms, mouth still slotted against your folds. This way you couldn’t hide from the overwhelming pleasure electrocuting your body. You often fought for your orgasms, but Luffy refused to let this one go. He held you tight as you moaned his name. A groan vibrated against your pussy as your release flooded his mouth. You gave up your thrashing, body bouncing a little as you slumped against the mattress. You moaned as you rode out your orgasm on Luffy’s tongue. He kept his mouth on you until you were twitched from oversensitivity. Running a hand through his hair, you gently pulled him away from your shaky thighs and spasming cunt. 

This boy was a mess. Your fluids covered the lower half of his face, glistening against the lights shining onto the stage. His jet-black hair was tousled from your pulling. He smiled at you as if it were just the two of you, seemingly ignoring the cum dripping off of his chin. 

“Y’taste so good Y/N,” Luffy pulled your face forward for a sloppy kiss. You whined at your taste on his tongue. He shuffled forward a bit before pushing you back against the bed. Before he threw himself onto you Luffy slid a pillow under your hips. Your legs slotted against his hips as he made himself comfortable on top of you. “I wanna… be inside of ya so bad… Can I?” He whimpered in between kisses.

You hummed, cradling his face in your palms as you pressed light kisses all over his face. He giggled before burying his face into your neck, his hips rutting against you. Like some kind of mutt, all slobber and excitement as he humped against your folds. You chuckled before shifting a little, angling your hips towards Luffy. You pulled him away from your neck and kissed him deeply. He seemed to get the message. Luffy lined himself up before pulling away from the kiss, a strand of saliva connecting your mouths together. He looked down to watch himself push his way inside of you. You threw your head back and whined at the feeling of him filling you up. 

A hiss turned into a groan as he finally bottomed out inside of you, pubic bone pressed against yours. His dick was long and thick, and he stretched out using his devil fruit powers, growing til his tip kissed your cervix. You expected him to start fucking you right away like he normally did. But when he didn’t, you blinked your eyes open and looked up at him in confusion. He smiled at you lazily and looked down to where the two of you were connected. You tried to grind down on him, to gain some sort of friction, but he used his body weight to pin you to the bed.

“Wh- Luffy?” You gazed at him, confused. “What are you-”

“How bad do ya want it?” 

…

“What?” You blinked at him, not believing what you’d heard.

“I said,” Luffy leaned forward, eyes dark and flickering with mischief. “How bad do ya want it?”

“Luffy, don’t do this, please. Not now,” You pleaded. “I can’t, it’s s-so embarrassing.” You seemed to remember now. You were in front of an audience. One that was eerily quiet, might you add. Your face burned with shame. He wouldn’t make you beg in front of them, would he? You shuddered, slowly turning your head to the audie-

A rough hand grabbed your face, turning you back to look at the man currently inside you.

“Don’t.” He growled. “Look at me and tell me what you want.” He ground his hips into yours for emphasis, delighting in your needy mewls.

You sniffled, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. God, of all the times to tap into his possessive, demanding side, he had to choose now. What happened to the sweet, docile Luffy who begged to put his hands on you? The boy who was happy just using your mouth? You couldn’t find him in this suddenly commanding man, who twitched inside of you at your distress. It wasn’t often he got like this, all assertive and dominant, but when he did you basked in his authority. He always fucked you a little bit deeper, a little bit harder when he was in this mood. You were happy to indulge him, to beg and submit to his every whim.

But not like this.

This was humiliating.

You whined and squirmed as you thought over your next words carefully. You decided to beg for mercy once more.

“I-I can’t.”

“Fine, I guess ya don’t want it.” Luffy sighed discontentedly. He pulled away from you, shifting to pull himself out of you before you stopped him. You wrapped your legs around him and pulled him back in with a small yelp. Your hands gripped his arms caged around you. Luffy looked down at you, a smirk pulling at his lips. 

“Please, captain…” you sniffled, tears of frustration spilling down your face as humiliation boiled within your veins. But you couldn’t deny the way you clenched down on Luffy as your resolve crumbled into pieces. “Please fuck me. Cum deep inside of me, please. Please. I need it so badly, fuck.”

He blinked at you.

“Fuck. Fuck! I need you to f-fuck me, captain. Please.” You sobbed, writhing on his dick. Luffy laughed, shifting on his knees and hooking his elbows into the crook of your legs. His trademark grin beamed down at you as shivers wracked your body.

“See? That wasn’t so hard!” Luffy snickered. He wouldn’t call himself a sadist, but he did find you crying and begging for him to fuck you kind of funny. “Okay, okay, fine. I gotcha.”

With that, he drove his hips forward. Luffy grunted as you clenched around him, your walls so warm and wet. His length hammered away at that spot inside of you, blurring your vision. You moaned, head rolling back against the pillow. He felt so fucking good. Your mind short-circuited and you couldn’t focus on anything other than Luffy’s length pounding you. With a loud groan, Luffy looked down to where you two were connected. He watched his cock pump in and out of you at an erratic pace. His mouth hung open, drool dripping down his chin and onto your belly. 

That’s when he saw it.

When he’d bottom out, a slight bulge would poke out of your lower abdomen. He wanted to see it again. He pushed into you as deep as he could, staring down your body as your back arched off the mattress. Luffy gasped and sat up a little more, lifting your hips with his hands. He used his hold on you to thrust deeper, harder, his tip knocking against the walls of your with each thrust.

“Ngh- Look, Y/N…” Luffy grunted and whined as you lifted your head, almost delirious but willing to obey him. “You can-ah! You can see me inside ‘f ya.”

You watched as he fucked you like an animal, desperate to bury himself within the deepest parts of your body. Your hands scrambled for purchase against the bedsheets, your eyes squeezing shut as you cried out into the air. Just when you thought things couldn’t get any more overwhelming, your captain pressed the palm of his hand on your tummy, feeling himself slide in and out of you. 

You couldn’t speak. Your body was alight with pleasure, and you felt your peak rapidly approaching. The coil wound deep inside of you tightened. But this orgasm felt a little… different. You could feel the waves of pleasure intensify, like a dam fit to burst.

“L-Luffy I’m-” You were unable to finish your sentence, his length knocking into you just right. You practically screamed and threw your head back as you finally let go. Pleasure ripped through you like a tsunami, your vision spotting, hearing nothing but the pounding of blood in your ears. 

You heard it before you saw it. Your release squirting out against Luffy’s abdomen as he fucks you through it. Loud, wet squelches filled the air, mixing with the sound of your cries and Luffy’s groans. Luffy let out a loud moan, dropping to his forearms and hovering over you. He slowed down a little, opting for grinding his hips into you to catch his breath.

“Fuck Y/N… You’ve never… mnhh- done that before.” Luffy heaved, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face into your neck. You had squeezed so impossibly tight around you when you came, and even now your pussy flutters with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, petting his hair.

“Luffyy…” You whined, your words slurring together. You warbled something about feeling good before kissing his neck. Everything else had faded away. All you could see, think, feel was him and how good he was making you feel. You wrapped your legs around him, caging him in. Luffy’s moans and whines rose in pitch.

“Y/N! I- hff- ‘m gonna-!” Luffy ducked his head into the crook of your shoulder and moaned, hips stuttering as he came. You moaned at the feeling of his warm seed filling you up. Luffy pushed in as deep as he could go and stayed there. He always preferred being deep inside of you whenever he came. He didn’t care about getting you pregnant, but he loved the way you twitched and whined whenever he came inside of you. With a sigh, he peeled himself away from you, sitting back to admire the mess between your bodies. He laughed.

“Wow, look at the mess ya made!” Luffy snickered. You pushed yourself onto your elbows, face flushed. You’ve never cum so hard before, and you hadn’t even realized you’d squirted until you saw the damage. Luffy’s abdomen and thighs glistened with your cum. His cum dripped from your cunt onto the soaked bed sheets beneath you. Luffy snickered, then brought a hand to grip your thigh. Using his hold on you, he flipped you over onto your stomach. You yelped and shot a confused look over your shoulder. “What? ‘M not done with ya just yet.”

His hands gripped your hips, pulling them upward, your back bowing into an arch. Luffy groped at your ass as he watched the last of his cum ooze out of your cunt. He didn’t like that, so he collected the fluid that threatened to drip down your thighs and pushed it back into you.

“L-Luffy! Just get on with it already!”

“Shishishishi! Sorry Y/N. I jus’ can’t help but play with ya.”

You yelped once more as you felt a hand collide harshly with your ass. Your head whipped around to look at him over your shoulder, face flushed.

“Wh-what the hell was that for?!”

Luffy shrugged with a snicker. “Dunno, just felt like it.”

“Well, give me a warning the next time you decide t- aahn!”

Luffy interrupted you by pushing inside of you in one swift movement. He shifted forward on his knees, leaning forward and nipping at your ear.

“Sorry, were ya sayin’ somethin’?”

He began to pump in and out of you, hard and deep. This position made it easier to hit the deepest parts of you, tip of his cock knocking against your cervix with each thrust. Fuck, any semblance of coherence you held onto slipped from your mind, Luffy’s cock fucking you dumb. You drooled onto the pillow beneath you, moans flowing freely from your open mouth. Luffy whined, driving into you faster. His hips snapped against your ass.

You squirmed and whined as his length pounded away at your g-spot. Your thighs quake, you can feel yourself fluttering around his length. You were reaching another orgasm rapidly, trying to stop it or slow down was futile. Luffy was going to fuck you through your orgasm whether you liked it or not. The repeated stimulation against your cervix and the barely-there stimulation of his balls slapping against your clit drove you closer and closer to the edge.

“Hff- I can feel ya tightening up ‘round me like a fuckin’ vice, baby.” Luffy groaned, his words breathy. He angled his hips, rolling his hips, trying to get you to cum. His arm reached around you, index finger circling your clit. You cried out and clenched down on Luffy. He moaned and you came, gushing around his cock. It wasn’t as intense as your last orgasm, but that didn’t make it any less euphoric. Fireworks danced behind your eyelids as you trembled and cried out in mindless pleasure.

“Atta girl!” Luffy huffed. Your thighs quivered and gave out, crumbling against the bed. Luffy fell with you, sweaty chest pressed against your back. He slowed down, letting you catch your breath for a moment, but still wanting to stimulate himself. He nipped at your ear. “S-so fuckin good f’me baby… Gimme one more, please?”

“Luffyyy,” you whined, words slurring together. Talking was no easy feat. Your tongue felt thick and too heavy to move. Your vision blurred and your face was wet from the tears staining your cheeks. Honestly, you weren’t sure if you could cum again. It’s not like the drag of his cock through your oversensitive walls was helping you, either. “I dunno…  ‘f I can- nnh.”

“C’mon princess, please? For me?” He pressed fleeting kisses against the side of your face and neck, desperate to feel you squeeze him tightly again. Your cunt fluttered and he groaned, wanting so badly to resume his previous pace. But not without your permission. “Please, please?”

Bringing your arms to hold the pillow underneath you, you ground your hips back against your boyfriend. Your nerves alight with oversensitivity, you moaned and squirmed on his cock. It was hard to speak, but you tried your best to show him that you were willing to try, were giving him permission to fuck another orgasm out of you. Luffy seemed to take the hint. He let out a soft chuckle and kissed your face tenderly, he was so in love with you. Nibbling at your ear, he sped up, thighs clapping against your ass. The sound of him fucking you mixed with his overstimulated whimpers in your ear made you whine and clench down on his cock. 

Luffy brought a hand underneath you to rub at your clit, delighting in the way you cried and writhed on his length. You were close, still basking in the aftershocks of your previous orgasm, he just needed something to push you over that edge and into euphoria. A lightbulb went off in his head at the same time that you fluttered around him. He just needed to press on you the way he did before, right? The heel of his palm pushed against your lower abdomen as his middle finger stretched to stay pressed to your clit. It was an awkward angle, but he was determined to have you gush all over him like you did before. You sobbed, practically screaming as your hips bucked, but you had nowhere to go since his hips kept you smothered against his hand and the bed. Your mind went completely blank. Stars burst behind your eyelids. 

“LUFFY! ‘M ssoohmygod ‘m gonna cum- ‘mgonnacumsofuckingh-”

Your legs kicked out as you squirted once more, your screams muffled against the pillow you bit into. Luffy was at the end of his rope. He kept fucking into you, your orgasm bringing him to his own. He bit down on your neck as he came, buried as deep inside of you as he could go. He growled as his cock throbbed and pumped wave after wave of his seed into you. Your forehead pressed against the pillow you had scooped into your arms, gasping for breath. Mentally, you were blissed out. Warmth spread through every part of your body, tingling with pleasure. Your thighs trembled even as you came down from your orgasm. 

Luffy was in a similar state. He slumped against you, chest heaving. His hands caressed the sides of your body as he came down from his orgasm. He licked at the deep bite mark he left on your neck. It wasn’t deep enough to draw blood, but definitely enough to leave a mark for the next few days, a week if he was lucky. Knowing that you’d be walking around with a mark left by him made his dick throb. 

“You okay, baby?” He whispers in your ear, hand rubbing at your back soothingly. You gurgle a response, physically incapable of forming words while you were still coming down. Luffy chest vibrates from where he’s pressed against you as he chuckles. When he pulls away from you, you whine at the loss of his warmth. You’re finally starting to regain consciousness, though your words are slurred. “Luffy… ‘m tired.”

“Aww, are ya? I can take ya back to the ship if ya want.” Luffy sat up, drinking some of the water that was sitting on the table next to the bed. You seem to perk up at that, and he grins, setting the water back down before rolling off the bed. You seemed to forget about the crowd watching you, and though Luffy was aware of their watchful eyes he couldn’t bring himself to care. He picked up his hat from where it’d fallen onto the stage, placing it back onto his head. He didn’t bother with the pants. He nudged you to sit up, as you already started drifting off to sleep. “C’mon, Y/N. Sit up fa me.”

Luffy pulled you into his arms, lifting you up off the bed. You grumbled and wrapped your arms and legs around him, not unlike a koala. He giggled as you buried your face into his neck. He knew that when you woke up you’d probably flush with embarrassment at your lack of self-awareness, but he didn’t mind. You were so cute when you were all flustered. Even now, the way you drooled a little bit onto his shoulder was adorable. Luffy sighed with content as he carried you through the doors exiting the stage and down the hallway. 

The captain of the strawhat pirates was so in love with you it even startled him sometimes. The way you kept a level head when he was flying off of the handle. You helped rein him in without smothering him or cramping on his way of life. You balance him out. His heart did little jumping jacks when he met you, and the minute you offered to help him he knew he had to have you on his crew. So he didn’t mind carrying you all the way back to the ship, not at all. You were his, and he’d carry you for miles if it meant he could wake up next to you in the morning.

Thanks for reading! I may include an epilogue (or a part two) if I feel like it >w<

[xlpoww]

LOVE

what is

Anonymous asked: okay okay i just read your sanji imagines and maybe make a part where the roles are reversed? like the reader gets flirted on by someone else and she flirts back and sanji doesn’t understand why he feels jealous all of a sudden? part one and two can be found here: SOUR GUTS

this one goes out to my lovely friend @honnelander <3 i adore you!! thank you for being my biggest supporter<3 you don't know this but you inspired me to begin writing again!! so thank you.

warnings: none!

word count: 930

opla! sanji x f! reader

you were fuming, why wouldn’t you be? zoro had instigated an argument with sanji that turned into a full fledged fight.

and it was about you

there were a million thoughts racing through your head, but the biggest one hurt you the most. you’d upset him? your best friend? how could someone as insignificant as you have the power to upset sanji vinsmoke so deeply? he had women falling at his feet, the gorgeous man. the biggest flirt in all the seas was hung up over, you?

that man that you’d left with last night, he didn't matter to you at all really. he was sweet and funny, but he wasn’t him. would sanji feel a bit lighter if he knew you couldn’t even remember that guy's name? no, that might make it worse, wouldn’t it.

you don’t know where to go from here, sitting on the deck left alone with your thoughts. after the  blow up fight in the kitchen, you’d chewed zoro out to hell and back. so much so it even felt like he felt some remorse, but you figured it was a trick of the light. if he had truly cared about the cook’s feelings, he wouldn't have pushed him so far. he wouldn't have exposed him like that, made him so vulnerable without a choice in the matter.

how would you feel if your heart was left so defenseless by someone else’s words? if you had no say in the matter of confessing your feelings?

you take a deep sigh, leaning back onto your hands. your head falls back as you look to the sky. not a cloud in sight, it felt wrong for a sight so beautiful to appear on such a gloomy day. 

so deep in thought, you fail to notice the sound of footsteps walking towards you. the man stops silently besides you, hands in his pockets. from one of them he pulls a cigarette, a lighter from the other. still, not a word leaves his lips as he begins to light it, only the sound of the lighter catching your attention. with wide eyes you turn to your right and see sanji, tagging a long drag of his cigarette. he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye.

“hey y/n” his voice was devoid of the usual flirtiness, it sent a pang through your heart.

“hey sanj, how are you doing?”  you angle more of your body towards him, speaking softly. the conversation felt so delicate. he blows out the smoke from his cigarette before responding.

“could be better darling, that wasn’t how i wanted you to find out about my feelings.” his words are paired with dry laughter, and he’s avoiding your eyes.

“so it’s true? you’re in love with me?” your hand has come up to grasp your other arm, your eyes finding their way to the ocean as you speak.

“since the moment i laid eyes on you, back on the baratie.” his words sound like a weight being lifted off his shoulders. “you sitting there at the table with the rest of our lovable group- you’d looked scared to order the wine, like was going to rat you out to the marines or something!” he’s laughs, the sound warming your heart.

“i had never sat down at such a fancy restaurant!” you defend yourself with a huff, continuing on exasperatedly, “anyways. that can’t be true, you were just as flirty with nami back then- you couldn’t have liked us both could you?” you turn to face him once again, your eyes frantically searching his own. how could you have missed this, how could everyone in the world have known but you?

“something about you, it just stuck with me. i don’t know how to explain it y/n, but ever since you came into my life, i haven’t gone a day without thinking of you.” he takes a moment to take another drag, the smoke falling from his mouth as he continues on. “all those other girls, they never really meant anything. i was just hoping to be distracted from you, though it never worked. no matter who i talked to, it was always you who held my heart captive.” there’s a bitter sweet tone to his words, yet they’re elegant and thoughtful all the same.

“sanji, i- don't really know what to say. i can’t believe i didnt notice-” you’re scrambling to find the right words when he cuts you off with a smile.

“no-no it’s fine, you don’t have to return my feelings or anything love.” he dropped the cigarette, leaning towards you slowly. it’s like he’s giving you the chance to pull away. when you don’t he gets closer, bringing his hand to rest softly on your cheek. the light touch causes a burning blush, and you smile softly at the man sitting in front of you so bravely. “i just wanted you to hear it from my lips. i love you, y/n.”

you want to say more, but when you open your mouth he shakes his head softly, and you close it. there are a million combinations of words, yet no one feels right at this moment. with the way sanji is looking at you, it feels right to stay quiet. to sit in the silence, next to a man that loves you with his whole heart. 

and when you close your eyes, leaning into his soft gentle touch, a smile graces your lips, only one thought on your mind.

‘i think i could begin to love you too.’

Taglist: @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @teenyforestfairy @gothicuwusposts @cheesesoda @shuujin @untoldshortsofthefandoms @roronoaslover @katiemrty @stayacarat @thebadassbitchqueen @fandomsunited @luna0713hunter @pinktravelerluminary @caramelcandescence @everyonehatescarmen @littleplantofdeath @gcldtom

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hello I'm sorry if I'm bothering you but I had an idea about a hazbin hotel request, so what if everyone at the hotel (except Alastor) consider the reader a big sister who takes shit from no one, like will slap someone without hesitation if they talk bad about any of their friends, especially when Valentino tries something will literally beat him up until he's half dead. (If you're not comfortable with writing this that's completely alright and I wish you a good morning/afternoon or goodnight)

Oh, nonnie, you are never a bother! I love getting new requests, feeds my soul tbh. I love this idea too! As much as I love romantic x readers and NS/FW x readers, I also love me some platonic Hazbin 🤍 good morning/afternoon/evening to you and ENJOY!

Notes: fem!reader, this is kinda short sorry, added Alastor at the end but just a snippet :)

TW: aggression, fighting, swearing

Rough and Tough- Hazbin x platonic!reader

Charlie ❤️‍🔥

Adores your passion and bravery but is often the one to hold you back or stand between you and your foe.

She loves keeping you close tho bc she has a hard time asserting dominance and speaking up for herself and you’re always willing to speak your mind on her behalf. You always help uplift and empower her, she greatly appreciates that.

Charlie also really does see you as a sister. As an only child, she grew up pretty sheltered and lonely, but being with you now is really healing her inner child.

When Charlie is having any kind of issue, she always goes to Vaggie, her darling girlfriend. But, when Charlie feels the need to vent about and get advice on her relationship with Vaggie, she turns to you. When Vaggie is busy and away, Charlie goes to you.

Pretty much every weekend, Charlie invites you and the other girls in the hotel to her room for a sleep over and some fun girly time

You def tagged along with her to the meeting with heaven along with Vaggie and while Vaggie is like “keep a cool head, babe.” You’re literally trying to climb up to where Adam is seated so you can rip that smug smile off his stupid, ignorant, narcissistic face and slap Lute with it.

Vaggie’s just panicking as she tries to keep you and Charlie calm lmao

Vaggie ⚔️

TWO PEAS IN A POD TBH

Vaggie adores you and you are often each other’s impulse control and each others biggest instigators

Vaggie getting pissed that someone is trying to sabotage the hotel and storming up to the traitor with her angelic spear cocked back and ready to kill

Enter big sis pulling her back and trying to talk some sense into her

Also you getting livid when someone talks negatively about Vaggie being a fallen angel, or worse being a former exorcist and being untrustworthy

Bad words and ugly names are pouring from your angry mouth, fists balled up and ready to go, muscles tense in anticipation

Cue Vags hugging you as she pulls you away, whispering that it doesn’t bother her so don’t let it bother you

But it bothers you bc you know it bothers her…she doesn’t deserve that.

As Rosie said, maybe she’s trying to be redeemed too…? Being shit talked is only going to put bad thoughts in her head and you can’t stand to see your family belittled like that

Sometimes, if the situation is just bad enough, you and Vaggie lose it together and no one can stop yall now. It’s honestly just as frightening as when Alastor shows his full demon form, you and Vaggie violently teamed up together like this.

Angry Vaggie + Angry big sis reader = a terrible ending for whoever is at the sharp end of her spear and at the mercy of your fists

Angel Dust 🕸️

Is very intimidated by you at first but grows so fond of you as he gets to know you. He admires your courage so much, he wishes he could be more like you.

He never feels safer than when he’s at the hotel with you near by. He knows that whatever he lacks when up against an opponent, you’ll be there to pick up the slack and watch his back.

Angel doesn’t have many true friends or familial figures in hell, and he misses his own sister so terribly. You fill that empty spot in his heart so perfectly, he wishes you had been around when he was still alive.

You two hang out a lot- his flirty, bubbly, goofy demeanor and your kind, accepting but stubborn attitude makes for some fun late night talks and some exciting outings together

Some dude tries to touch Angel out on the street without his consent? Oh fuck no. Before he knows it, the loser demon is groaning from the hard concrete floor as you grab Angel by the wrist, both of you stepping over the banged up body of the handsy asshole.

“It’s called consent! Look it up, ya fuckin prick.” Angel gets such a confidence boost being with you, you are the physical threat and he is the voice that tears them apart even further. You bruise their skin, he bruises their ego

Angel can’t help but laugh everytime you lose it for him. He just enjoys your company and support so much. He says he can handle himself and while he totally can, it’s just nice to have someone back him up, someone who truly cares for him.

Husk 🃏

BRO IS SUCH AN INSTIGATOR!!!

While Vaggie and Charlie often try to hold you back and calm you down, Husk cheers you on in any and every tense situation you find yourself in

“Oooooh you’re in for it now, bone head.” He’ll smirk and watch with a pleased smirk on his face as you pummel some sinner who dared to threaten the hotel and its residents

Husk’s fav pastime is sitting back with a bottle of booze as he watches you just go ham on some stupid, loud mouth loser who tried to pick a fight with the former overlord

Husk isn’t afraid of a fight, he’s not afraid to get up close and personal with the action but he must admit it’s nice to feel cared for enough to have someone sacrifice their own safety just to protect him.

The only time Husk has intervened during one of your episodes of frustration and rage is when Alastor said something to Husk that rubbed you the wrong way. Seeing Husk’s terrified and helpless expression in response to Alastor’s threats lights a fire in your chest.

“How dare you talk to him like that! I don’t give a shit if you own him, he’s not your fucking pet, you piece of-“

Husk practically, no literally begged Alastor to let it go and leave you be which he did but only bc he sort of admired your lack of fear and your loving but fierce protective attitude.

Husk also greatly admires your lack of fear and strong will. He wishes you were his family for real, maybe he wouldn’t be so depressed and fucked up.

Sir Pentious 🐍

Admires tf out of you, babies tf out of you.

He sees you as more of a little sis, wanting to coddle and defend you always.

Sees you coming back to the hotel one day with some bruises and bloody hands and hes immediately comforting you, trying to clean you up even tho you’re clearly fine.

But, he must confess he loves teaming up with you bc together you’re the perfect pair- Pentious with his tools and inventions and intricate weapons and you with your amazing strength and hot headed, witty comebacks and your courage and your quick thinking.

When he feels that he needs to step in and keep you from doing something stupid, he does so with all his might. Pentious would rather face your wrath himself than let you go and get yourself hurt or killed.

Go ahead, take your anger out on him but don’t risk yourself just for him.

You two totally bond over wanting to be seen as evil, devious and powerful but you’re both actually soft little sweet hearts deep down.

You two cry together a lot lmao. It’s always him crying first and then his crying triggers you.

He would frequently talk to you about how you are always so brave, fearless, strong, never faltering, never second guessing yourself. He’d ask where you learned to be so sure of yourself, he wants to learn to be more like that.

Alastor 🩸

SEES YOU AS HIS EQUAL BUT WILL NEVER ADMIT IT. CANT UNDERSTAND HOW YOU STAND YOUR GROUND AGAINST EVERY ENEMY YOU’VE EVER TAKEN ON, EVEN HIMSELF. YOU HAVE NO POWERS, YOU OWN NO SOULS, YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS PARTNERS OR BLOOD RELATIVES DOWN HERE SO WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU’RE SO SPECIAL??? YOU’RE NOT SCARED OF HIM? OH, VERY INTERESTING. HE WANTS TO CUT YOUR LITTLE BRAIN OPEN AND EXAMINE IT, YOU’RE JUST AN ENIGMA TO HIM, HE ADORES YOU. WISHES YOU REALLY WERE THE DAUGHTER HE SPAWNED FOR REAL FOR REAL HE’D BE SO PROUD

[solaireverie]

sv5 | stars all aligned and they intertwined

pairing: sebastian vettel x f!singer!reader

summary: [ social media au ] despite parting ways years ago, you and sebastian somehow find each other again (or: sebastian becomes your wag after his retirement)

warnings: language

faceclaim: anne hathaway + pinterest

author's note: seb is literally the definition of a wife guy. i love him so much. enjoy!

liked by phoebebridgers, oceanblvd, sebastianvettel and 3,459,127 others

yourusername the biggest thank you to everyone who came last night. i adore adore adore all of you with my whole entire heart ❤️

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user MOTHERRRRR I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THANK YOU FOR THE BEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE!!!!!!

↪ yourusername i'm so glad you enjoyed it 🥰

↪ user holy shit y/n l/n replied to me i can die happy now 😵‍💫

user the finger in the first pic??? y/n girl are you trying to tell us something 🤨

↪ user i don't get it? does it mean anything special?

↪ user it's one of the most famous celebrations of ex-formula 1 driver sebastian vettel. they dated a while ago and he was at her concert last night!!!!

↪ user awww that's cute 🥺

sebastianvettel Always lovely to see you again 😄

↪ yourusername likewise 💕

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tagged: sebastianvettel

yourusername behind the scenes 🎥

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user new music soon??? 👀👀👀

↪ yourusername maybe 😉

charles_leclerc 🤍🤍🤍

↪ yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

user seb and charles in the likes 😳 ariana what are you doing here?

↪ user seb's also tagged lololololol the rumors are terrible and cruel but honey most of them are (probably) true ✨

sebastianvettel Mein engel ❤️ [ my angel ]

↪ yourusername mein weltmeister (und fotograf) 💕 [ my world champion (and photographer) ]

↪ user absolutely unwell over this interaction. what do you mean seb took the photos. why are they calling each other pet names in german. UNWELL.

↪ charles_leclerc trust me it's worse in person

liked by lewishamilton

↪ user charles?!?!?!??!?! lewis?!?!??!?!??! y/n's collecting all the fast car boys fr 😭

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, charles_leclerc and 481,359 others

tagged: yourusername

sebastianvettel These hands had to let it go free and this love came back to me

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yourusername this love is alive back from the dead ❤️

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user THEY'RE SO FREAKING CUTE?????????

user so happy for them 🥺 it was really obvious that they were in love and that it was just bad timing the first time around...

charles_leclerc mom & dad :)

↪ yourusername who taught him this??? charles darling i'm afraid i'm not quite at that age yet

↪ danielricciardo i claim the fifth

↪ yourusername you're not even american 😑

user the caption sounds a lot like a lyric 👀

liked by yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, dyl.an, billboard and 7,936,872 others

tagged: sebastianvettel

yourusername I fell terribly in love with someone when I was in my mid-twenties, before either of us knew who we were. It was a love that people write tragedies about, a cautionary tale told to children for years to come, a car wreck you can’t look away from. In the end, I walked away from everything we’d built with tears in my eyes and walls around my heart. 

I don’t regret the paths I chose and sacrifices I made. The starkest realizations I’ve had about myself came in the days after, when I cried myself to sleep and pretended I didn’t know his name. I created some of my most beautiful music when I couldn’t enter a room without seeing him in the crowd. I grew from the experience the way forests grow back after a wildfire.

However, I always regretted letting go of him. He was the one I knew I could always count on, the one who held me in my darkest days, the one whose smile I searched for wherever I went, despite knowing I was the one who erased it from my life.

Ten years later, after I had already buried everything we once shared, I received a text from an unknown number. 

What came next is well-documented in pictures, notes scribbled on coffee cups, and train tickets across Europe. While we may have been the right person at the wrong time a decade ago, patience rewards those who wait.

I found myself falling for him all over again. It felt like a homecoming and a rebirth at the same time. We had changed and matured in our time apart, but we still knew each other like the backs of our hands. At his core, he is still the man I loved, and something in my soul knew that. 

Love is a strange thing. It is something we feel deep in our beings yet something we will never fully understand. It is untameable, maddening, and fickle. It is also enchanting, captivating, and thrilling. If there’s someone in your life who loves you, count yourself lucky. If you love someone, I hope they appreciate you.

This album is both a love letter to him and for him. It is an ode to his figure against the sunrise and arms around my waist. It’s a time capsule of carnival games, elaborate bouquets, and endless late-night conversations. I treasure each and every second I get with you, especially the ones we spent writing some of the tracks together.

My love, adore adore adore is yours.

comments on this post have been limited

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

masterlist

for the nerds like me, here's a breakdown of y/n's music in this verse

[janaispunk]

end game

series masterlist • this is part VII

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

word count: ~3.8k

summary: Heartbreak, an explanation and an epilogue.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), angst, feelings, heartbreak, depression, mention of weight loss, fluff, able-bodied reader, reader has hair, dom!Dave, sub!reader, sir kink, degradation kink, fingering, unprotected p in v (it's never stated in the fic but i headcanon that reader is on birth control), basically free use kink, rough sex, dirty talk, spanking, spit kink, praise kink, Dave is a menace, praise kink, idiots in love, please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: the biggest thank you to @joelscurls for letting me scream about this again and againnnnn, and reading over my drafts countless times, you’re the best, jess! <3

thank you to @daddy-dins-girl for talking plot holes with me and motivating me to write <3

thank you to everyone who has read and loved this series, i have received sooooo many kind words, feedback and just so much love. i started writing this as a pwp oneshot and the fact that it has turned into my first series ever and one that i had soooo much fun with is wild. i’m incredibly emotional about saying goodbye to my babies, maybe i’ll revisit them when i need to write some kinky shit out of my system haha. i hope that you like the ending that i’ve built for them.

a few words about the plot: i actually have zero clue how the hitman business works (shocker, i know), so some parts of this are purposefully vague in a way that i hope is believable and somewhat realistic. just roll with it, thanks :D

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics 🫶🏻

find my full masterlist here & follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates.

The first week you don’t hear from Dave, you’re confused, but not necessarily worried yet. There have been weeks of silence in the past, though you’ll admit that you had thought that things might be… different now.

Your texts to him stay on delivered, never switching to read. Which has also happened before, especially when he was away on business, but still… The thought that he has gone back to his normal life without sparing as much as a glance back at your time together is nagging at you.

You can still feel his hands on your skin, can still hear him whisper in your ear how beautiful you look, how perfect you are for him. It’s hard to come to terms with the thought that it wasn’t real, that his words and actions didn’t hold the same weight for him that they did for you. Reality has finally caught up to you and it hurts.

When two weeks blend into three weeks and you’ve still heard nothing, you start getting worried. He had said his line of work was dangerous, after all.

Your conversation, still so close and yet a lifetime ago, echoes in your mind. 'Nothing's gonna happen,’ you had said. ‘Not to the girls, not to me. And not to you.’ And not to you. ‘You don’t know that, sweetheart,’ his voice rings through your head. Sweetheart. The word tastes bitter on your tongue and wraps itself around your chest until you feel like you’re choking with it, like you can’t draw breath into your lungs anymore.

Sweetheart.

You don’t know that.

Sweetheart.

You start looking him up online, to find anything that might at least tell you that he’s okay. You don’t want to believe that he would be cruel enough to ghost you, but you barely dare to consider the alternative. You find nothing, no mention of his name, like he doesn’t even exist.

Your calls stay unanswered, your messages stay unread. You find yourself subconsciously checking your texts and your emails countless times a day, catch yourself staring out of your window in the blind hope that he might appear outside. He wouldn’t just leave you like this, would he? Would he?

Days blur into weeks and eventually into months. You’re painfully aware that it’s not healthy, this kind of heartbreak, especially not over a relationship that never even meant anything. If only your heart would understand that.

It was never serious enough that you told any of your friends about it, never wanted to be labeled as the girl that sleeps with married men, never wanted to admit your feelings to someone else when you could barely admit them to yourself. Regardless, even without knowing what exactly was going on, your friends had tried to be there for you, to convince you to go out with them, to cheer you up, but you had turned them down often enough that on this Friday night, your phone stays silent.

It’s better this way. All you want to do is rot away on your couch, staring at the TV with unseeing eyes until it’s an acceptable time to go to bed. Maybe it won’t take you hours of lying in the dark to fall asleep tonight. Maybe it won’t remind you of a different kind of darkness in a different room, a room where the sound of waves against the shore and the deep breaths beside you lulled you to sleep.

You need to get yourself together, your inner voice whispers. Next week, you think. Or the one after that.

A knock on your door shakes you out of your thoughts and you pad over, expecting to be met with the Chinese takeout that you had ordered in hopes of fueling your appetite at least a bit with the prospect of comfort food. Absentmindedly, you note the surprisingly short delivery time. You barely look up as you swing the door open, busy fiddling with your purse to extract a few dollar bills.

After finally managing to pull them out, you face the doorway. A greeting dies in your throat.

Familiar deep brown eyes burn into yours, framed by the face that you wish you’d forget but can’t. The short brown hair, the clean shaven jawline that you can still feel underneath your fingertips, the memory all too fresh in your mind. He looks tired, you think, and instantly scold yourself for knowing him well enough to even notice.

The seconds tick by as you motionlessly stare at him, blinking slowly, your mind running a mile a minute. Why is he here? He can’t be here. Are you making this up? If so, things are far worse than you had thought.

He clears his throat, shifting his weight uncomfortably. It’s probably the least sure of himself that you’ve ever seen him.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his hand twitching like he almost reached out to you but changed his mind. “Can I- can I come in?”

You regard him for a moment longer. The sound of his voice makes him appear more real, and the fog in your head slowly clears. He’s alive. He’s here. In front of your door. Alive and well. Your emotions boil up inside of you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! You think you can just show up here after months and ask if you can come in? I thought you were… I thought…”

Your voice betrays you, breaking at the sharp sting of pain in your chest that you’ve fruitlessly tried to suppress and the feeling of your throat closing up. Tears spill over and you furiously wipe at your cheeks, determined to keep some semblance of dignity.

“I know,” Dave breathes, defeatedly. “I’m so sorry. Please let me explain.” His hand reaches towards you again. You shy away from his touch and an expression of hurt ripples across his face. “Please, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Your voice only trembles a little as you snap at him. After another look at his face, you eventually step aside and jerk your head towards your living area. You briefly think about how messy the place is, for how many weeks you didn’t have it in yourself to clean up. You can’t bring yourself to care. Seeing him walk through your flat again after being so painfully aware of his absence leaves you almost dizzy. You take the opposite ends of your couch, both of your bodies stiff, careful not to touch one another.

“Okay,” you sigh. “Explain.”

So he explains. How he received a call, barely thirty minutes after he stepped into his house, with a mission that was too perfect of an opportunity to pass it up. There had been no time to let you know, the risk too high to use his personal phone once he started working.

He goes back to the persona that took up half of his life for so long, the identity that is no more, the man that fell down a watchtower and was washed away by the sea. Body never found. At least that’s what everyone who knew this man thinks. Everyone who knew him, but not Dave York.

He’s been thorough with it, with the most important mission he’s ever done. There are no loose ends, no one who could trace things back to the real him.

It took longer than he had anticipated and he kept laying low afterwards, until he could be absolutely sure that no one would be looking for him anymore.

He doesn’t think that he’ll ever get rid of the worry, ever stop looking over his shoulder, but rationally, he knows that he did it. He got out.

Then he had talked to Carol, let her know that he wants a divorce. It had been- easy, almost. She didn’t cry, didn’t scream at him, just nodded like she had known this day would come for a long time. He thinks that she almost seemed relieved, in a way.

Your eyes had been glued to his face since he started speaking. Tears are silently running down your cheeks.

“I know that I should have found a way to contact you. I didn’t-” He sighs, running a hand over his face. “I didn’t know what to do. I was so worried that someone would find out about you. I never wanted to hurt you, you have to believe that.” He knows that he looks a mess, that his desperation to make you understand is written all over his features.

Every day that he didn’t call you, he knew that he was hurting you. He tried justifying it with himself, that having you think he left you was better than risking somebody coming after you. It never gave him much comfort.

It’s even worse, now that he sees the damage he had done. You have lost weight, deep circles have formed under your eyes and you move like you’re barely holding yourself together. He saw the panic on your face when he tried reaching for you at the door. No matter what he had done to you in the past, you always sought out the safety of his touch afterwards. Until now.

“Please believe me,” he whispers.

You study his face for what feels like a lifetime. Tears are glistening on your lashes. You look so tired, so defeated that it makes his heart ache.

“You’ve done it?” you finally ask. Your voice is a quiet thing, barely bridging the distance between the two of you. A flicker of hope rings with it. “You’re safe now?”

He nods silently, fighting the urge to gather you in his arms, to promise you that he’ll always be there from now on. A small smile curves your lips upward as you mirror his nod, like you’re trying to let this new reality sink in.

“That’s good,” you murmur.

You lean forward, your fingers tentatively closing around his fist that’s clenched tightly against his thigh.

Hope flickers inside his chest. He can taste the three words that he’s been wanting to say to you for far too long on the tip of his tongue. He’s not going to, not right now, not today. But someday soon, he thinks that he might.

Two years later

“Bye girls, say hi to your mom and Matt from me,” you smile, embracing each of them in a tight hug before they dash out of the door, a jumble of giggles and excited chatter. Dave trails behind them with a grin on his face, pecking your lips and calling out for them to slow down.

Your heart is full, overflowing with love for this family that, against all odds, has become yours. You watch Dave usher his daughters into the car and push the doors closed behind them, the smile still on your lips. As you walk back into the house, your eyes linger on the thin silver band adorning your ring finger.

It’s still new, still an unexpected sight when you catch it on the edge of your periphery. It’s the tangible proof of you being the happiest you’ve ever been.

Things had been rough at first, after Dave came back to you. You understood why he handled the situation the way he did, but it took you a long time to trust that he wouldn’t disappear again. To believe that he left his old life behind, that he chose you. But he did.

You busy yourself with cleaning up the inevitable chaos that having the girls over for Dave’s days with them always creates. It’s not the life that you would have expected yourself to have a few years ago, but right now, it feels like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

A few minutes later, your phone pings with a message from Dave.

Be back in 15. I expect you naked and on your knees waiting by the door.

You bite your lip, heat building inside you with rapid speed. Your phone pings again.

Don’t disappoint me.

Fuck. Wetness is already gathering between your legs as you jump into action.

The car door slamming shut has never sounded so good before. You’re listening intently, catching Dave’s heavy footsteps on the stairs and the jingle of his keys before the door opens beside where you’re kneeling.

You look up at him from your place on the floor, watching the mix of smugness and adoration on his face as he takes in your position. A shudder runs through you and your nipples harden under his demanding gaze. He steps closer, caressing your cheek.

“Such a good girl… my obedient little wife, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you whimper, the coherent thoughts slowly draining from your brain and craving more of his touch, more of him.

He smiles down at you, his eyes glinting predatorily. You’ve come to know this shift into the darkness since you first met, but it’s more playful these days, not laced with the urgency that possessed him back then. Still, he gets intense, especially after having the girls over forces you to keep things rather tame during those days.

“Show me your ass, face on the ground, come on,” he demands coldly.

You obey without question, turning around and bending forward, pressing your upper body down to the floor and presenting your backside to him. He lands a couple of slaps on your cheeks and you flinch, moaning out softly. Your pussy already feels slick with arousal.

“What do you say?” he asks, rubbing his hand over the heated skin.

“Thank you, sir,” you whisper.

Another slap hits you. “Do you know what you did to deserve this?”

You wrack your brain for a few moments, but come up blank.

“I- no, sir.” Your voice is small and breathy, your body bracing for the impact of his hand again.

He chuckles. “Nothing. I just felt like it.” Another slap. “And you’re mine to do as I please, isn’t that right?” Your thighs are trembling. You’re so wet that it feels like you’re dripping onto the floor.

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“You know what’s the most fucked up about this?” He crouches down beside your face and strokes your cheek softly, smiling down at you. “How much you whore like it.”

He straightens up and heads for the stairs. “Bedroom, come on.”

You don’t even try standing up, knowing that he won’t let you, and crawl behind him, which earns you another chuckle and a “good girl���.

The image of your naked form on your knees behind Dave who hasn’t removed a stitch of clothing sends another bolt of arousal through you. You’re desperate for him to touch you.

He roughly lifts you up and manhandles you onto the bed until you’re spread out underneath him.

“So…” He grabs your wrists and holds them over your head, pressing them into the mattress. “These stay right here, you hear me? Don’t move, or do I have to restrain you?”

You pout at the prospect of not being allowed to put your hands on him, but obediently hold them in place when he eases his grip on you. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

He grins down at you. “I know you will. Got my girl well trained, haven’t I?”

His words make your pussy clench around nothing and your “yes, sir” comes out in a whimper.

He leans in closer, spreading your thighs wider with his body and you force yourself not to buck your hips up against him. The craving for any part of him to touch you, for any kind of friction, is overwhelming.

“Please, sir,” you whisper. Your pleading eyes hold his cold gaze as he’s leaning over you.

“Patience,” he growls. “Open your mouth.” A disapproving click of his tongue. “Wider.”

You part your lips as widely as you can, sticking your tongue out and trying not to squirm against the sheets. He remains motionless for a few seconds, taking in your desperate state with a cruel smirk on his face.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. Then he tips his head forward and spits into your waiting mouth. The filthy feeling of his saliva coating your tongue and filling your mouth almost drives you insane with want and you groan, shifting against his thick thighs between yours, but to no avail. You wait for his next command, your mouth still wide open, not daring to swallow before he tells you to.

But no command comes. Instead, he reaches up to press two fingers down on your tongue, dipping into your mouth and smearing your combined spit over your face. The silver band on his ring finger is cool against your skin and you shudder, loving the reminder that he’s really, entirely yours.

Your body feels like it’s burning up, your hands are twitching and you’re desperate to move them, to touch him, to do something, but you hold yourself still until he finally tells you to, “swallow, baby.”

He smiles and finds your lips for a surprisingly soft kiss, cupping your face in his hands. “You’re being so good,” he tells you gently. “Are you having fun?”

“Yes,” you smile, chasing his lips when he pulls back, but he tuts at you and you fall back against the bed, huffing out a breath. “Just… please.”

“Patience,” he reminds you, the softness gone as quick as it came. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

You bite your lip, but stay put while he stands up to finally start removing his clothes. He’s agonizingly slow with it, holding your hungry gaze while he unbuttons his shirt in unhurried movements that make you want to tear the clothes off his body yourself.

You drink him in, first the sight of his broad chest and his strong shoulders, then his muscular legs, and finally, making your mouth water and your pussy burn with desire, his cock.

As much as he keeps taunting you, you know him well enough by now to be able to tell that he’s just as desperate for you as you are for him, even when he’s trying to conceal it. He returns to you, sitting back on his haunches and drinking you in, until after what feels like hours, he finally reaches out and swirls his fingers through the wetness between your legs. It’s a barely there touch, but you’re so painfully turned on and sensitive that you let out a gasp.

“So fucking wet,” he marvels and applies the slightest bit of pressure to your clit. It’s enough to make you see stars and you’re sure that he could make you come just from this. But, of course he won’t. He laughs at your reaction and retracts his hand to lean forward instead until he’s on top of you again, your legs spread wide to accommodate him and his cock slides through your folds.

He lowers his head to nip and suck at the skin under your jaw, one hand toying with your breasts and your hardened nipples. Your whole body is buzzing, he’s so close and it’s so much, but it’s not enough, not enough, not enough.

“What do you want, baby?” he asks, peppering your skin with kisses and rocking his hips in small movements that make his cock nudge at your clit over and over.

“F-fuck me, please, I’ll do anything,” you beg, your body still obediently stretched out underneath him with your arms above your head. He nods wordlessly and reaches down to position himself at your soaking entrance.

“Be as loud as you want,” he growls against your neck. “I missed making you scream.”

He bites at your skin at the same time as his thrust into you punches the air from your lungs. You scream, just like he asked, as he hammers into you, his lips still attached to your neck, sucking and biting at the delicate skin. The sensation of finally being filled by him, of feeling the stinging stretch of the way he forcefully pounds into you is like heaven. You think that you’re talking, crying out a mix of his name and sir and please over and over.

You’re flying towards your climax and judging from his groans, he can already feel you tighten around him.

“Go ahead,” he groans, before you’ve even strung the words to ask for permission together in your mind. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

He pinches your nipple just once and the additional sensation is enough to send you flying, your pussy clenching around his cock and drenching him in your arousal as you scream out his name. It’s pure bliss, and you never want to come down.

“That’s it,” he growls, not slowing his movements, fucking you through the aftershocks until you’re a whining mess beneath him, “that’s my perfect girl, fuck-”

You force your eyes open to smile up at him, taking in the wrecked expression on his face, relishing in the knowledge that you’re the one to make him look like this. You just really wish you could touch him.

“P-please, can I-” you’re breathless, barely able to speak, and jerk your head towards your hands above you.

“Yeah,” he rasps, his thrusts somehow growing even more forceful, “do whatever you want, baby.”

Your hands fly towards his body, touching every inch of his skin that you can reach, nails digging into his back and fingers grasping at his hair, pulling him closer, closer, until he’s everywhere, all you can see, all you can taste, all you can feel.

“Fuck!” he swears, grabbing your shoulders and holding you in place as he’s pounding into you, “give me another one, touch yourself, come on-”

His thrusts are becoming erratic and you know that he’s close to his own climax. It only takes a few swipes of your fingers over your clit until you’re coming again, soaring through the heights of your pleasure, your whole body trembling with your release. Dave’s hips stutter and he comes with a shout, pulsing inside of your fluttering pussy until finally, you both still.

He drops his sweat-slicked forehead against your chest, peppering your skin with kisses and engulfing you in the warmth of his arms. After cleaning you up, he moves your bodies until you’re tucked against his side, one arm thrown across his chest while he holds you close.

You’ll never get tired of the feeling of his naked body against yours, of the way he feels like he was made for you. By now, you can admit that he had always felt like this.

“I love you,” he says, lips moving against your hair.

You press your face deeper into his neck. “I love you.”

It’s easy, now. Words that you say every day.

…and i love YOU, thank you for reading! 🤍 if you liked this, a reblog or a comment would absolutely make my day.

[rafesmuse]

Eddie Munson as your boyfriend

warnings: fluff, nsfw at the end

navigation // masterlist // taglist

the relationship

this man will treat you like a princess

he loves using pet names; sweetheart, darling, my love

and ugh so many compliments !!

he’s just so proud that you’re his

“isn’t she just amazing?”, a phrase his friends would hear too often

shows you off to everyone

your #1 supporter with anything you do

so good at cheering you up and making you laugh whenever you’re sad

he always takes care of you, making sure you’re happy and healthy

your parents love him because he’s surprisingly good with parents

stares at you when you’re not looking

“what?!” “nothing, you’re just the most beautiful girl in the entire world”

he’s always so excited to play music on his guitar for you, especially if you ask first

affection

eddie is such a puppy, so clingy

he needs to be cuddled a lot

loves it when you play with his hair because it calms him down

also, making out in the woods and probably more

so many neck kisses

holds your hand all the time when you’re out in public

arguments

you guys don’t fight a lot, but when you do, arguments can get a little heated

he sometimes loses control, like raising his voice or trying too hard to get his point across

he will take a moment to calm himself down if that happens before apologizing

absolutely hates it when you cry

“no, no, no, baby. don’t cry!”

will also cry with you because it crushes his heart, but secretly though

he will immediately hug you so tight that you can’t breathe

he feels so bad after arguments and always tries to find ways to make it up to you makeup sex

nsfw

a switch.

he can be quite dominant when he feels like it or when you make him jealous, showing no mercy

but he can also be submissive to the point where you’ll make him beg for it while he’s on his knees

one thing is for sure, he loves teasing in public. whether that’s him teasing you or you teasing him, he loves the thrill of it

just imagine being at a restaurant with some friends as you feel a hand on your thigh, going higher and higher as your eyes widen when he reaches your core. he would have the biggest smirk on his face as he watches you amusingly

he likes to experiment, whether that’s with new toys, new places to do it or new positions, he wants to try it all

also likes to be edged, a lot

the one thing he doesn’t like is quickies. he likes long sessions and enjoys taking his time with you

but whatever the two of you do during sex, he needs to be cuddled afterwards

comments and reblogs are always appreciated !!

navigation // masterlist // taglist

tags: @jexnrey @raccoonsstinkybunns @plumes-de-nuit @missonaryjjm @drayslove @slutforjohnmulaney @coreycom @romcomsonnetflixstyles @kitkatkaitin @changkyunssmiles @leelizzzle

[soursturniolo]

boyfriend hcs • nick sturniolo

nick/male reader • requested! • suggestive but overall sfw

- Not the type to catch feelings easily, so you both were just good friends for quite a while. You fell for him first, but kept it quiet because you didn’t want to lose him. it wasn’t until you got mistreated on a date that it came out that Nick liked you too. you called him, sniffling and upset about how some pig of a man had treated you and Nick was immediately seeing red. he had Matt drive him to your place and he held you and listened and somewhere in the middle of his rant where he was threatening that dudes entire existence if he ever saw him, he let his feelings for you slip. “if I was ever lucky enough to be the guy you were interested in I’d never treat you that way, you deserve everything good and I’d give you that”

- Sleepovers were a staple of your friendship and remained a staple in your relationship. Some nights were sultry and steamy, but for the most part it was usually innocent cuddles and shared laughs as you watched drag race together or played Fortnite. He loves sleeping with you, in his bed or yours it doesn’t matter. He always says he gets the best nights sleep next to you.

- for someone so outgoing and seemingly confident, sometimes he gets shy around you. you tell him he looks handsome and suddenly his cheeks are a little pink as he thanks you for your compliment

- The type to be out without you and send you pictures of things he sees that makes him think of you. Like if he sees pretty flowers, if the sunset looks nice, if something funny is happening, he’s taking a picture or little video and texting it to you asap

- Very protective of you. You both tried hard to keep your relationship quiet and private, not out of shame but just wanting to protect it, but it eventually came out. He’s always been a clap back king, but he saves his harshest responses back to use on people who hate on you. He has a little patience for people who say stupid shit about him and his brothers but when it comes to you he doesn’t play around at all.

- Playfully bickers and argues with you about the stupidest things because he thinks youre hot when you’re a little mad

- Not always the biggest on vocally telling you how he feels, so he shows it in a lot of ways; like always touching you, pressing a quick little kiss to your head or jaw when no one is looking, always the first to like your pictures and hype you up to everyone, listens to you so intently whenever you’re talking to him

- His brothers made the mistake of teasing you too much once. man, they thought mattitude could be bad, matt had nothing on Nick that night.

- would think most couple things are a bit cringe, but if there’s ever anything you’d really want to do he’d do it and then be real quiet about how much he actually enjoyed it

- On his really bad days where he’s stressed and every little thing is on his nerves, his brothers usually give you a call so you can come over and help. Something about your presence always helps calm him down and he’ll talk to you about whatever is bothering him, his head resting on your chest as your heart beat and calm voice soothes him.

- sometimes the big spoon sometimes the little spoon. He likes both equally so it depends on the mood he’s in or he leaves it up to you. he loves holding you just as much as being held by you.

- the best kisser. His lips are always so soft but firm against yours. innocent and sweet little pecks, sleepy morning kisses before getting out of bed and dealing with the world, long drawn out make outs where it’s like he can’t get enough of you, you name it it’s always good. If you disagree? go argue with a wall.

tag list members; @secret-sturniolo @sturniolopepsi @christinarowie332 @mangosrar @cupidsword @st4rswrld @biimpanicking @bernardenjoyer @lovingsturniolo @loveesiren @sturnphilia @mxqdii @oh-toseewithoutmy-eyes @its-jennarose @fionaheartswomen @hedgehogperalta @lea0518 @lxvlysworld @mattsd0ll @urmyslxt @thetriplets3 @lilsxo10 @recklesssturniolo @meg-sturniolo @flowerxbunnie @mlimmm @querenciasturniolo

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 1

Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader, Fluff

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Swearing, Period Era Sexism

A/N: Hi guys! This is my first fic in over a year, but I dont know I just wanted to have fun! Also lets be real... i needed these ideas out of my head. Please enjoy, have fun! Have an amazing rest of your day! Hi everyone!!! So this became a multi chapter story! This has been so much fun and I am so excited to see where this story goes! If you are interested in continuing this story, go to my tags and click ‘Interviews for New Beginnings’ there all parts will be together! Eventually I’ll put together a master list for it! Love you guys so much, I’m so glad you guys are having fun!!

You had heard about this job from your cousin Eli. And maybe that should’ve been the first clue that perhaps this may not have been a completely legal or safe or upstanding or above the table or whatever good adjective your parents could come up with position. But you had told Eli that you needed a job! And he did find you one! And your parents should be overjoyed that you will be working in the same “bakery” as a male cousin. It’s not proper for a woman to be working without a family member’s presence… especially where there are other men in the office.

“When you go in there be sure to look strong, but not too strong, emphasize that you’re docile and you want to please him.” Eli had been quizzing you about your skill sets and how you were to behave in the interview the entire walk to “The Bakery”. And while Eli was so sweet and more of a brother than a cousin… you couldn’t keep your irritation at bay.

“Tell me Eli… am I interviewing for the position of personal secretary or personal wh-“

“And don’t be so quick with that mouth of yours! Listen… Mr. Solomons is one of the most important men in Camden. This could be a really big opportunity for you. Being the personal secretary of one of the biggest names in the city can give you a steady income and some real independence! But that means you can’t be so…”

“Myself?” You say with a cocked brow and a bumped hip.

Eli’s eyes lit up as if a child he had been teaching finally understood arithmetic, “yes! Yes exactly! Listen while you’re in front of Mr. Solomons, it’s ‘yes sir’ and no questions asked. Got it?”

You sigh and roll your eyes. It felt like you had had this conversation so many times in different ways. Why did your parents care to educate you so much if you weren’t allowed to use your mind? You had asked your father many times, if God gave you a mouth and brain, why shouldn’t you be allowed to use them? And he was never really able to answer beyond a couple phrases talking about the ‘role of women’. You had just been fired from a doctor’s office due to talking back to an unruly patient. Truthfully, this was your last shot to get real independence. It was either this job… or letting your parents begin the process of finding a husband.

You finally reach the door of the bakery, and Eli turns you toward him to fix your hair and straighten your sweater, “Ok ok. Here we are dearest. Now just follow me, don’t make eye contact with everyone and just… be good.”

You chuckle out a, “Yes mum.”

With a laugh he shoves your arm, and gives his name to the young man standing by the door. With a nod he opens the door and lets you in, quickly following Eli’s steps.

While Eli said you couldn’t make eye contact with anyone he never said you couldn’t look at the bakery. It didn’t take you long to notice that while all the men were wearing aprons… there was a distinct lack of… bread… or anything to do with bread. Soon after this you began to feel that memorable tickle in your nose. Rum you thought to yourself. With a smirk you ran up behind Eli and whispered, “Wow quite the bakery Eli. Does the family know about your little rum house job?”

His face was pale, and he was clearly in no mood to joke. With a huff you returned to your previous pace, and you see that the office is just ahead.

Suddenly you feel the flush in your neck, and begin to steel yourself. You had of course heard about Mr. Alfred Solomons. The King of Camden. The Brave War Captain turned Ruthless Gangster. Eli was not kidding when he said that Mr. Solomons was one of the most important people in the city. He ruled the community. This was not the time and place for your mouth to act up. This was the time to behave and play it safe.

Eli rapped the door of the private office gently, and was met with a gruff, "What now!?"

Eli with a shaking hand opened the door, "Mr. Solomons? It's me Eli I..."

"What the fuck do you want eh? Come on now yeah you interrupt me and just stand there acting like you've been struck dumb by God. Come on!!"

Eli kept stammering, basically useless, so you stepped up, "Mr. Solomons, I'm Eli's cousin. I'm here for the secretary position."

Mr. Solomons eyebrows furrowed, looking you up and down. You couldn't help but feel like a child in front of his stare. Fiery, discerning, and just plain terrifying. "You said you're here for what?"

"The secretary position. My cousin said you were in need of a secretary."

Mr. Solomons looked at Eli and looked at you, "And you think you're qualified for a secretary position?"

The heat in your chest started to grow. And you could feel your temper begging to be let out. But you had to make a good impression. You needed this job. You needed to be sweet and to behave.

You nodded, "Yes sir, I can assure you I am I-"

"I'm sorry treacle but this simply will not do." Mr. Solomons cut you off. "What I am doing here right? I'm running a legitimate business. I am running something very difficult that little girls like you simply could not deal with yeah? Now run along and go do whatever young girls do yeah?"

"Mr. Solomons I-"

"Treacle now you're making me a little frustrated right, I said run along now."

You could feel the heat rising and rising, and Eli tugging at your sleeve, "Mr. Solomons if you will just listen-"

Mr. Solomons rose from his desk, "WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE I SAID LEAVE."

"I AM YOUR NEW SECRETARY DAMNIT."

The room went silent. The entire bakery went silent. And from the corner of your eye you can see different men pausing, waiting to see what would happen next.

Alfred Solomons, for the first time in his life, was left speechless. The last woman who had yelled at him was his mother. Usually, women run and hide from him upon the first interaction. Men have wet themselves from his bellowing. Yet... this little woman is standing here, screaming at him, demanding to be heard. He did not know what to do, he could only stare at her.

You tried to be good. You really did try! But it was too late now. Mr. Solomons was just staring at you, and you had a point to make.

"Mr. Solomons, I am the most capable secretary that you will ever have walk through these doors. I am fluent in Russian, Yiddish, Hebrew, and French. Not only can I read and write, I was the best in my class in maths. I am a damn good baker, though clearly you do not need my services there. I am incredibly punctual and polite and am able to talk to anyone. And to top it all off, I make a very good cup of tea. Now I put on my best dress and shoes and I walked 45 minutes to get to your ridiculous office and I will be damned if I will leave here without a job! Do I have your attention now sir?"

While you were speaking Alfred Solomons had slowly lowered himself into his seat, with a smile on his face. He was stroking his beard, considering your fiery eyes, and the shape of your lips while you yelled at him. He began to laugh to himself, "Come sit down treacle. Eli, get the fuck out, stand by the door."

You turned to look at your cousin, but he had already closed the door behind him. You walked to the desk where Mr. Solomons was sitting, and took a seat directly in front of him. Where he had been leaning back in his chair, he was now leaning forward on the desk, resting on his elbows on top of a thick layer of papers. His eyes twinkled, and a handsome smirk played on his lips. Your rage was still simmering, and it was hating you for staring at those eyes.

"You can read and write?"

"Yes."

"How fast can you type?"

"80 words per minute."

"You're good at math?"

"You want to put a slate in front of me and have me recite a King's speech as well Mr. Solomons?"

He barked out a laugh, "Fuck me. You've got a sharp tongue on you don't you?"

"I have language why not use it."

"Fucking hell...alright listen here you little viper. I want you here every morning at 8 o'clock. Ready to work. You will have many a late night in this job. You will be my personal secretary, which means when I say "come here", I better see you before I finish that sentence. You'll need to write letters for me as well as manage my meetings alright? You will be my shadow. Any questions?"

"What is my salary?"

He paused, staring at you, seemingly trying to see how low you would take, "4 pounds a week."

"6"

"Good Lord what do you need 6 pounds a week for? 4 and a half and thats generous."

"Mr. Solomons I'm not stupid I know what you do. You need me. You want to become a respectable businessman you need someone like me to make sure your affairs are in order. I know you are working with many different people, and you need my abilities. I am the best you will ever have. 5 and a half."

Alfred keeps stroking his beard...wondering how the hell Eli could be related to someone so strong... and how much it was going to cost to keep you, "5 pounds a week. And I will give you a Hanukkah bonus."

"...And Rosh Hoshannah off."

"Done."

You stood to shake his hand, firmly, though he kept smirking as he shook yours. "Alright my little viper, I will see you tomorrow. Bring ink and a notebook. We start at 8."

"Thank you Mr. Solomons. You won't regret this!"

"Alfie. You will call me Alfie from now on."

The way he said it while staring into your eyes brought a heat to your cheeks, and you prayed that he couldn't see any change in your demeanor. "Alfie." You whispered as you nodded and walked away.

He couldn't help but linger there in that moment, watching you walk away, speaking animatedly with Eli. Never had he ever felt so... struck by a woman before. He had women before of course, but no woman had captivated him the way you just did. He needed you. He needed you with him, in any way that you allowed him to have you near. Maybe this was a mistake, but he highly doubted it. How could a mistake be so beautiful?

"OLLIE!" He yelled, "WE NEED A DESK AND CHAIR NOW!"

[katasstrophy]

I think everyone in the Bllk Fandom has agreed that everyone single guy would be intensely and stupidly obsessed when in love, but who are the biggest simps in your opinion and what is the simpiest thing they would do?? (Simp is used very affectionately btw)

nonnie, if they ain't simping, I don' want 'em ! tags. afab! reader. use of y/n once. suggestive themes in isagi’s. i think i use one bad word lol. kayla if you’re reading this the nanase one’s for YOU! 🫵

THE BIGGEST SIMPS OF BLUE LOCK (AFFECTIONATE):

—TOKIMITSU AOSHI

this hunk of a nervous wreck genuinely wakes up every day baffled by the fact that he gets to call you his romantic partner. it is beyond any semblance of logic he possesses why you chose to date him of all people — you asked him out, yet he was the one that almost keeled over from nervousness — and it regularly sends him down a neverending loop of self-doubt. your presence, however, soothes the brunt of that spiralling. it doesn’t stop his anxiety entirely, he knows that’s not how it works, but being around you dulls the noise in his head to a thrum he can manage, focusing instead on being in the moment with you. that’s why tokimitsu has the uncanny ability to spot you wherever you are, no matter the circumstances. he could be in the middle of an intense game with thousands watching from the bleachers or waiting near a busy intersection in shibuya to treat you to some umeboshi riceballs for your date, he’s so attuned to you, he’ll glance up and you’re there, cheering him on or giving him an enthusiastic wave with a grin that splits your cheeks apart, the sight making his heart beat erratically in his ribcage, this time not from nerves, but love.

—NANASE NIJIRO

this absolute sweetheart of a man is always talking about you, not that it ever occurred to him that he shouldn’t. he’s the type of boyfriend who finds a million ways to sneak you into the conversation while hanging out with his friends, completely turning the topic from him to you. a simple question of what were you up to this weekend? leads to an inevitable but hearty ramble of oh y/n and i went on a picnic back in kansai, and they made these super yummy wanpaku sandwiches- until basically everyone in his immediate circle can recount your life history. and nanase manages this so naturally, so effortlessly, that his friends don’t even notice they haven’t been told a single piece of information about how he’s doing until they draw a blank about anything regarding him, but can recall your great sandwich making skills and the promotion you recently received with great detail. on the occasion you go pick him up after late-night practice, his teammates frequently congratulate you on things you have zero memory of sharing. at your quirked brows, nanase only chuckles and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, as if to say i just can’t help myself when it comes to you. he really is your most ardent supporter.

—ISAGI YOICHI

you know those how men wanna be treated when their boys aren’t around memes? isagi’s stance towards your relationship is the furthest thing away from that. he’s open and honest with his affection for you and doesn’t give a rat’s ass about who happens to see him being horrendously smitten with you. he spins around with you at the airport every time you come to greet him home even though he knows it’s super cheesy and the paparazzi may be watching. he rests your chin on your shoulder at formal events, gently swaying your bodies as he hugs you from behind to cure his boredom. he flashes a cheeky grin when you ladle him with sweet pet names, cooing right back at you. his teammates tease and make fun of him mercilessly for it, but isagi’s quick to spit back an aw, not getting any good pussy lately? sorry for your loss, humbling them so nonchalantly you almost forget to smack him for it. it doesn’t deter him in the slightest as he hooks a long finger past the waistband of your pants to pull you closer, ushering you out so you can go home and watch the newest episode of your show together, leaving his gobsmacked teammates behind.

—BONUS: RAICHI JINGO

he has such that’s my wife! energy. raichi would love to show you off and rub it into anyone’s face that he scored the fucking jackpot with you, so everyone can go cry about it while he gets to hog all your attention lol he adores you.

[blasphemecel]

Shidou Ryuusei — Like Teeth

PAIRING: Shidou Ryuusei/Reader WORD COUNT: 3.6k TYPE: Humor, Feelings realization, idfk what this even is but i threw in some surprise fluff at the end WARNING(S): Nsfw jokes but cmon it's shidou you gotta forgive me for finding sex funny this once, play-fighting that doesn't seem very playful, canon-typical mental illness, canon-typical unnecessary dramatics, canon-typical overly intense soccer rivalry NOTE: Reader is a part of the blue lock project but no concrete gender identity or pronouns are specified

It starts like this:

After the freaky nerd from the ceremony whose name you hadn’t bothered remembering finishes with his instructions about this game of tag you’re supposed to be playing, the biggest asshole in the room immediately targets you once he realizes you’re the one with the highest number on your jersey. You trap the ball with ease and then kick it straight into his face with as much power as you can muster, knocking him out, the force sending him reeling.

While the timer continues ticking, no one dares to make a move or even exhale too loudly in your presence, scared you might take their bodily functions as a challenge to your authority. Like every opponent before, they’ve submitted to you.

You stare at the ceiling, your lips set in a tight line, the despair settling in. Just this once, you want to meet someone who can excite you, and you’d hoped this ridiculous place could help.

___

As the top scorer of your pathetic excuse for a team — though behind your back they call you ‘the top red card holder,’ but considering how far up your own ass your head is, you’re yet to pay attention to this remark — by the second qualifying match they already know to pass the ball to you no matter what. In your defense, you’re not any more tyrannical than the average douche in this competition. It’s not your fault they’re too worthless to do what you can.

Two of the opponents are blocking your path, and you shuffle the ball between your feet trying to get the positioning right while they attempt to steal it. Everyone is making noises, but they never mean anything to you. You back up once you’ve felt that the stars have aligned and strike the ball through the tight opening between their bodies, taking the first goal of the match.

“You’re good!”

You blink, the words bringing you out of your perpetual trance to look at the guy in front of you. He starts rambling some nonsense about explosions and how he’s going to beat the ass of anyone who can’t give a good show and you think at some point he has started finding new roundabout ways of saying that he basically wants to bust a nut on the field. It is absurd. You understand it down to your bones, except maybe the last thing. For the first time, everything is coming into view. You can make out his face and you can hear his words and you see your teammates in your peripheral vision. How you didn’t notice him before, what with the hairstyle and his cartoonishly beautiful eyelashes, you’re not sure, but you’ve never been more present during a game before.

“Alright, gyaru,” you say. “Show me how you explode.”

“Gyaru?” he tilts his head, grin wide like a demon’s. “You think I’m pretty?”

Though Jinpachi Ego officially writes down what ensues as a round-robin tourney in his notes, the spectators (meaning literally anyone else who was in your physical proximity) would describe it as ‘The Longest Dick Measuring Contest They’ve Ever Seen.’

The way he moves fascinates you like nothing else. Just like you, he is a creature of instinct. You both circle around while trying to score or steal the ball, only to find that stopping the other is impossible.

After this match, two monsters glance at each other and think, ‘Maybe there is someone out here who understands me.’

___

There are still jitters in your veins. You can’t sleep. Is it ridiculous and maybe parasocial that the thought of ‘I want to see this guy again’ is keeping you up at night? Yeah, probably. You also feel like a creep lying down in the dark with your eyes wide open, yearning to bulldoze through something like you do when you want to calm down.

Frustrated, you slip out of the futon and leave the room while the rest of them are sleeping. The hallways let out ominous flickers, trailing after you while your steps echo and bounce off the walls. This building looks like a prison, you think, though you hadn’t noticed before.

You hate to think that your desperation is so strong you’ve developed the power of manifestation overnight, but when you step inside of the training room, he’s already there. He doesn’t have the decency to seem surprised at your entrance when you close in on him. His arms are crossed and he has a smug aura about him, but for the love of everything you cannot comprehend why he’s standing there doing nothing. At least you planned on being productive when you headed here with your plan to obliterate whatever you could get your hands on. Just so happens it’s him that you found.

The weird silence stretches, but it doesn’t bother either of you because as it turns out you have the same kind of social incompetence. You realize you don’t even know the guy’s name, but he declares, “You really came.”

You don’t really know what he means by this considering you didn’t arrange to meet here beforehand, but he’s saying it as if this was some unanimous agreement you came to earlier. “Waiting for me in the middle of the night all by yourself, handsome?”

“Every cell in my body was calling out to yours,” he says as if it explains anything. His expression is bordering on maniacal. Anyone else might’ve realized this was a bad idea, read the warning signs, but to someone like you who has lived their entire life sleepwalking, the excitement of such a strange encounter is addictive. “We’re the same… That’s why you felt it.”

“In that case, please avoid summoning me so late,” you say. “I value good sleep.”

He cannot tell if you’re just taking the piss or if you’re on the same page, but it’s rare that anyone entertains him when he says anything of that nature. To him, this is an amusing turn of events. “They say you’re some kinda unhinged delinquent. ‘s that true?”

“Sure, if that’s what you call putting a few sorry bums down in their place after they crossed me.”

“So you know how to scrap too, right?”

Right now, Shidou Ryuusei is like a kid at the candy store. You can’t discern any reason for him to swing at you, but he does, smiling all the while. After you respond to his provocation with a duck and a kick of your own — you avoid using your hands for anything if you can avoid it, finding it beneath you — you decide to consider this your friendly introduction to each other.

If he wants to coax the crazy out of you with his punches, then you’re trying to get him to settle down every time you retaliate, daring him to pipe down and turn boring just like everyone else. You’re not sure for how long you duke it out, but at some point you grow sloppy, and the last you remember of it before succumbing to your exhaustion is the last round of boneless slaps you offered each other.

___

Two of your teammates hatefully watch you and Shidou from across the cafeteria. You’re a selfish and insensitive person, of course, they know that. Before this, you’d always eat alone, but ever since the match where they were forced to watch you two flex on them, you’d hang out with him. Still, “I can’t believe [L/n] would rather have a romantic dinner with the only goddamn bastard in this goddamn building who gets better meals than share with us! I’m sick of this natto.”

“You’re telling me,” the other boy says, sadly eating a radish.

This must be an advanced form of psychological torture administered by Ego himself. Even if you don’t notice the audience, Shidou seems to be reveling in the negative attention. They can only watch and drool while you two push at each other and try to steal ingredients. At some point, you put Shidou in a suplex, making him cough out something. Then he wrestles his way out of your maneuver and shoves your head into your plate, forces you up again, and licks the food off your face while you scowl at him.

“I’d hardly call that a romantic dinner, though.”

“A guy from blondie’s team said he caught them asleep on top of each other in the training facility once.”

“Do you think they’re-?!”

“Oh my god, they’re…!”

They scream and point at each other and then hug as if traumatized. To add insult to injury, your voice rings from afar, “Are your eyes really pink? There’s no way that’s natural,” while some of the sauce still sticks to your skin.

“What? You think I’m some kinda fake?” asks Shidou, apparently offended.

“I’m gonna expose you, trust.”

How are you blowing everyone in your cell out of the water in terms of performance? You have to be the dumbest person in this entire wing.

___

“I want you,” he says.

Granted, this is out of context, but you still find that the words have some effect on you. But this won’t do no matter how hard you want to give in. With the first stage of the second selection cleared, you can’t continue as you are. You’ve been complacent in your talent. To expand your abilities, you need to observe whatever other powerful players there are in here instead of still chasing after him. Even the wet wipes on your old team have started catching up.

Besides, you’d always thought your appeal to him is as an opponent, someone who he wants on the other side of the field to face off against, and now Shidou is demanding to work together with you.

“I was in a coma before I met you,” you say. He pinches his eyebrows together, which is probably the first time you’ve seen him pull such an expression. To think you have the ability to utter something so strange, it weirds out even Shidou. “You pulled me out of it, but now I need to see other things, too.”

“If you tell me you wanna go watch other guys, I might get jealous.” Despite the initial waver, he sticks his tongue out at you, trying to be playful like always.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

Shidou grabs you by the collar of your jersey and pushes you against the wall. You blink at him, finding this an inappropriate time for a spar seeing as this is regular enough for him, but then he invades your personal space in a way which doesn’t feel particularly combative, your noses brushing against each other, and he blatantly glances at your lips before closing his eyes. You don’t think about it when you pull him in by the neck, your body reacting to his cues.

It’s not even that great, he’s not really being effective at what he’s doing, mashing your mouth against his almost pointlessly, teeth clashing and all before moving far too quickly onto the tonguing part of making out. Your nails are digging into his neck and his hold against your waist is tight enough to bother you. There’s a latent aggression in it like there is in any other interaction between you two.

And you don’t enjoy this for the surface-level sensations but rather for the strange tightness in your chest, the headrush, the closeness where somehow he’s enveloping you and you’re enveloping him at the same time and it feels like you’re about to fuse. You don’t want to let go yet, maybe under the assumption that if you keep kissing him, he’s going to be polite and return your breath to you.

Steps come near the entrance of the hallway and then, “Ah! Uhhh…”

You snap out of it and push Shidou off of you. He has the gall to look offended, glaring.

There’s some puny kid with a buzz cut, standing there with his confusion clear on his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, uh… whatever it was you were doing!” he says in a panic, waving his hands back and forth.

Yeah, that’s a good point. What the fuck were you doing? You just jumped at each other on instinct, ruled by some bizarre, mysterious need.

It must be because the air is so charged between you. Shidou is always in overdrive and he has a penchant for pulling you into his madness. You’re always doing something when you’re together — trading blows, trying to show the other up in soccer, saying heavy-handed things for no reason — and now a moment of stagnancy happened and you both turned into even bigger morons than usual.

He didn’t think about it either, you’re sure. Besides, even if you’re a crazy bastard on the field, you’re not like him. Shidou will meet even stronger players once he advances and he’ll move onto his next obsession. This doesn’t mean anything, at least not to him, you’re convinced.

You untangle yourself from him and ram your shoulder into his as goodbye before lamely saying, “I’m going now,” and offering a nonchalant wave.

He frowns before kicking imaginary dust off the floor. “Sure, fine. Be this way!”

Igaguri isn’t super puritanical or anything. Yeah, he grew up in a temple and all, but seeing two people kiss doesn’t offend his sensibilities. What freaked him out was how you managed to make it look like a fight while you were going at it, and like, he knows the hallway was deserted before he came out of thin air, but this is still a public place. Whatever happened to shame?

And now he has to be in the same vicinity as this scary guy who’s glaring daggers at the spot you were standing in, vein bursting out of his forehead and all, as if you ruined his life by walking out of here. He looks like a manchild who’s sulking because his mom forgot to make him chicken nuggies. A bead of nervous sweat rolls down his forehead.

___

Ever since the beginning, Isagi has been honing his technique, always hungry to add another skill to his repertoire. Rin and Shidou have no synergy; fine, he thinks, it’s not like he really even wants to set up a goal using them. It’s not enough to satisfy him anymore, not after the last match. He’d much rather score himself.

But the problem with the spatial awareness he has developed is that he can’t turn it off at will, or say ‘la-la-la’ and ignore something to focus on what’s important.

Well, being on the same stage as you and Shidou has to be the worst thing of all time. He wants to smell a goal for himself, but the most likely chemical reaction he can predict is one between you two, and you’re not even on the same team. It’s like a ticking time bomb, like those explosions Shidou has been vaguely rambling about, and it permeates the air.

You’ve started adapting his bodily control and precision, almost coming close to scoring with your back on the net. And Shidou has managed to pull off one of ridiculously tight angled shots to break through a two-on-one, passing the ball to Rin. If the phenomenon Isagi observed and achieved before is ‘consumption,’ then he has a first row seat to watch you two cannibalize each other.

The most unfortunate thing is the chase. The ball will come to you, but Shidou will steal it. He’ll be in the air ready to strike, but you’ll sabotage him from below. Isagi recognizes this as an unconscious prediction — on a molecular level, you know where the other one will be, and you’ll race there. It’s like he’s watching both of you swing neon signs and desperately scream ‘Please look at me!’ and overall beg for attention while also stubbornly refusing to make eye contact in fear of rejection.

It is revolting. He wants to gag.

Sure, Ego talked about how luck is a skill and how a pro takes advantage of it, but he never mentioned what to do when someone on his team is living through a low-rated soap opera episode with an opponent. With all of the emotional constipation among the participants of this godforsaken project, he’s sure this won’t be the last time he’ll need it.

___

Sitting down in the middle of practice isn’t productive, but you’re ‘taking a break,’ by which you mean you want to snap someone’s neck. It’s been boring again, ever since Shidou started disregarding your presence. You’re even on the same team now and it’s like you’re no better than air to him.

Of course, you’d predicted he’d find someone new to excite him. You just hadn’t anticipated it’d hurt your feelings. Why do you care, anyway? You should be used to this. The soccer you’ve played has always been selfish and lonely, and moping and jealousy are below you.

But during the match against U-20, you saw him look at Itoshi Sae the same way he first looked at you on the day you met, spouting nonsense with his unique expert-level yappery. And you don’t like that. You don’t like it at all.

He’s off doing his own thing again when you search for him with your eyes. You stand up.

And then you don’t think at all, breaking out into a sprint at full speed.

You’re behind him in the matter of a minute or so, slipping your foot between his and kicking the ball overhead so it lands behind him. He bristles, perhaps at your unwanted company, but you’ve already turned on your heel to run in the other direction.

You’re dribbling the ball when you glance over your shoulder. He’s onto you, trademark grin on his face. You’re not even sure what you’re trying to accomplish here, but all that comes to mind is, It doesn’t matter if it’s going way too fast or way too hard anymore. Just chase after me one more time.

You’re almost all the way over to the other goal, maintaining your lead, when Shidou kicks the ball after lunging around your side. It slips off half-assedly, but you don’t have much time to mock him for his technique because he grabs you by the wrists and pins you down, straddling you to the ground.

“That’s a foul,” you say, displeased.

“I don’t care.” His smile is so big you feel like he’s going to need to visit an orthodontist after you’re done here. The annoying strands of hair he keeps loose are hovering near your face, taunting you.

Your eyes dart again with your head in the fake grass and you see it straying off. “And the ball didn’t make it. To be honest, you were sloppy.”

“I don’t care.”

“You… don’t?”

There’s that sick fluttering feeling in your stomach again and your heart kicks against your chest painfully. Your cheeks are growing warm and you feel uncomfortable by the heat with Shidou so close to you. What the hell is wrong with you? Seriously, he didn’t even tell you a line or anything. He just said ‘I don’t care’ twice. That’s not game! You need to get a grip.

“Yeah, why should I? I’ve got you right where I want you now.”

You raise an unimpressed eyebrow. If making you look like an idiot is his revenge to you for making him mad, then fine, you’re going to pretend you can’t make your way out of his grip with ease.

“You can’t give me a big dopamine hit like that and pull away,” he says, leaning closer. By this point you really can’t see much apart from his big ass head right in your face. Does he even know what he’s implying to you while looking at you straight-on? Does he realize you know his weird euphemisms are all figures of speech for whatever makes him horny?

“What do you mean?”

“Tellin’ me all that romantic stuff and running away…” Shidou narrows his eyes as if the memory is enough to annoy him.

You blink. Oh. You thought he was throwing a temper tantrum because you refused to team up with him. But once again, you’re unimpressed. “So did that turn you on or what? I don’t get it.”

“Well, I’d put it in other words, like, let’s say, hypothetically, maybe you made me explode because you’re an oxidizer and I’m an organic-”

“Ok, I know, but I’m trying to figure out what’s going on here-”

He retreats and rolls away from you, allowing you to sit up again, so you cease talking without reaching the point you were trying to make. It flies out of your head anyway when he links his hand with yours, staring at you, seemingly subdued now. You’re not sure why you’re both acting like shy middle schoolers now while indulging in something so chaste considering you’ve done way more indecent things together, but you intertwine your fingers and offer him a smile. The sight catches him off-guard.

Before he can bask in another achievement (this time being the first person to make you express any kind of joy when everyone knows you’re one distant asshole), a ball hits him straight on the forehead.

Without any preamble, Rin deems it fit to announce his presence by saying, “Your lukewarm displays are appalling. You should both just die.”

You stare at him and then at each other and burst out in laughter, pointing at him. Though you finish your laughing fits at about the same time, you spur on another one by asking, “Do you think he even knows what lukewarm means?”

“No, I seriously doubt it!”

Rin thinks to ask you how come you think it’s chill when your shitty boyfriend or whatever he is says the grossest things imaginable, but suddenly it’s a problem when he wants to say his favorite word, though he doesn’t want to seem too offended or otherwise invested.

___

Im sorry if this is in any way contradictory or shitty or sucks balls I havent slept in 4 days except for a one-off 3 hour nap and wrote this while possessed. Maybe ill sleep again at some point and this will be the worst thing ive ever seen and ill have to delete it. God forbid.