#i get not wanting to send someone a nude picture of yourself OBVIOUSLY but i cannot imagine scoffing at $200 like that

[werewolf4vampire]

heartbreaking! the worst person you know is a really good artist

[yunhohours]

seventeen reaction: sending them nudes

request: okay okay but what about sending nudes to svt?

seungcheol: you better be ready before you send him nudes. the second he opens them, he’ll be calling you. it doesn’t really matter what he’s up to–he’ll find somewhere to sneak off to so he can tell you to touch yourself for him and how. leaving you to yourself when you’re obviously feeling some type of way is not an option in his eyes. he’s gotta take care of you. he’ll have them burned into his brain for the rest of the day, and once he’s home, he’ll add them to the little folder he has with all of your other gorgeous pictures. sometimes he’ll have you sit on the couch with him and just scroll through them so he can tell you exactly why he likes each one until you’re squirming next to him.

jeonghan: he calls you too, but he caters to you less. he likes to hear you whine about how badly you want him while he barely offers you much in return, just humming while he has you on speaker and busies himself with something else. he won’t put you on speaker if there are other people in the room, but he will still call you. because he isn’t giving in to you verbally, no one would know what he’s listening to on the other line. he’ll just tsk when he can tell you’ve started to touch yourself and continue to listen in.

joshua: our resident sugar daddy loves to see you in the pretty little things he buys for you. for this reason, he always prefers you to send him pictures in your lingerie than fully nude, though he’s obviously not going to complain about either. he’ll hold off on gushing over you to ask (read: text) you things he needs to know for later: is it comfortable, pretty? do you like this color? do you think i could slip my hand under that without ripping it? always tells you to wait patiently for him and he’s so so sweet about your frustrations. i know, baby, i know. when you’re whining to him via text. i’ll be home soon to take care of you, mhm?

junhui: sends gifs of someone’s eyes popping out of their head. not kidding. bear with him, though, because he’s as delicious as he is goofy. he will hunt down a mirror and record himself doing a little strip tease for you, rolling his body this way and that and moving his clothes around to show you enough without showing you everything. he knows that just whipping himself out of his pants and sending that to you doesn’t hit the same. he’s very intentional. he’ll keep sending you suggestive texts periodically throughout the day, but he doesn’t stop his entire day to entertain you. he’d rather give you his full attention when he gets home.

soonyoung: flustered. it takes him a minute to realize that you did, in fact, mean to send him nudes, especially if you’ve sent them out of the blue. if he’s busy, he’ll be like ?! did you forget i’m working today?! but once he simmers down and he has accepted that everything was done purposefully, he’s so goddamn cheeky. he has so many questions and they’re basically all a means to an end of him receiving praise from you. why did you send me these? you can’t stop thinking about me? what about me are you thinking about?

wonwoo: he’ll text back a singular question mark and nothing else. at least at first. he’ll keep your messages open, letting you see as he reads each of your texts explaining yourself. he knows if you keep seeing the read receipts with no response from him, you’ll keep going until you’ve got his attention. he’ll wait for you to ask him if you can touch yourself. he can pass this off as i wasn’t responding because you weren’t asking for my input, so i didn’t see the need. sometimes he’ll tell you no and to be good and wait for him. he means it. he’ll ignore his phone for the rest of the day on those occasions. other times, he’ll give you the permission you’re asking for, but only as long as you promise to send him a video of you crying his name when you cum.

jihoon: thinks you’re absolutely insane, but he loves it. he blushes so so so much that anyone around him would know something was up, though he would never admit it. he’ll try his best to keep texting you as much as possible while he works and he’s heartbreakingly precious about it. he’ll ask what you want and tell you how perfect you are and tell you about how he can’t wait to come home to you. he really goes out of his way to try and make you feel like you have his full attention, even if it’s realistically split between you and his schedule. always comes to you at the end of the day with a shy smile, not sure what to expect but ready to give you anything you want.

seokmin: locks his phone the very second he realizes what he’s looking at and looks around with the most obvious wide eyes. he’ll excuse himself and find somewhere private to call you because he has got to know what were you thinking?! he whines about how you can’t do that to me right now but then proceeds to keep making it worse for himself. he’ll look at your pictures while he talks to you and fawn over you, groaning in frustration at the same time. he ends up asking you to keep sending him pictures and to let him know what you’re doing aka text me about how you’re touching yourself and thinking about me even though i’ve made a big fuss out of it.

mingyu: ugh, the way his smile takes up half his face when he opens your little pictures is painful. convinced he’s the luckiest man alive. he’s very action oriented, so he doesn’t usually want to just call or text you about it. he’ll come to you if he’s not working or send a car for you if he is. he will shut down any protests from you–i’ll just tell them i’m going to take thirty for lunch. he wants to take care of your problem as soon as possible, as well as the one you’ve now created for him. if he absolutely can’t be with you physically, he’ll sneak off to have phone sex with you. either way, something has to be done. he’ll be useless all day otherwise.

minghao: as long as the nudes are well done, he’s all too happy to give you a bit of attention. just don’t send him ones with unflattering angles or lighting because he won’t be able to help picking them apart in his own head. he wouldn’t say anything to you about it, but it would definitely put a damper on how much they affect him. so you better have your nude game in tip top shape. he’ll text you just enough with messages crafted just perfectly to drive you as crazy as you were hoping to drive him. then he’ll suddenly tell you to wait, and you’ll have to do just that. he has other obligations, you know.

seungkwan: video calls you to verify that you’re actually wearing that little clothing. he wants you to give him a little show, spinning around for him and all. he doesn’t seem to put much effort into hiding your effect on him, his face telling it all to anyone that happens upon him. he doesn’t stay on the call long enough to watch you touch yourself, but he insists that you do exactly that. i don’t want you to be neglected. he loves going about the rest of his day knowing that you’re rolling around in your bed and thinking about him.

vernon: you’re so beautiful. he texts back immediately. he’ll keep texting you, even though he feels a little shy about sexting. you’re worth it. plus, his heart feels so full as he reads your messages, pouting about how much you want him. he loves how much you need him. the type to send you a picture of the imprint of his dick in his pants or his underwear–proof that he wants you, too. he probably won’t try to do much other than text, but he’ll be anxiously awaiting his time with you later.

chan: if you don’t want dick pics, you better communicate that to him beforehand because he will send one back. he knows how to be sneaky about it if he needs to be. he will be fully invested in you no matter what he’s got going on. he’ll just pretend he’s taking care of something super important–which, technically, he is. he’ll send multiple messages back to back because his mind is flooded with things he wants to say and do to you. will try to solicit more photos and videos out of you because, fuck, if he’s already aroused, why stop now?

[charminglycensored]

Porn is Other People

An Impromptu Treatise on the Ethics of Keeping Other People’s Nudes

!!! Long post incoming !!!

I feel like it’s a topic that has been talked about a lot but never really discussed in-depth, which is a shame because it’s a very ethically nebulous idea with lots of meaty moral dilemmas associated with it. We do ourselves no favors by keeping the conversation constrained to the few posts floating around telling you you’re a terrible person if you have nudes of someone you don’t associate with anymore. At the end of the day there’s no objective “right answer” for how to handle something like that, so that’s what I intend to explore here.

I’m a nude hoarder personally so I’m always careful to consider whether any that I’m holding on to are ethical or not. There’s very directly safe answers like pictures a sex worker sends you in exchange for payment. There’s also the relatively safe option of pictures sex workers post for free on social media (provided they haven’t expressed that they don’t want their pics saved), but those are also usually of lower personal value than ones sent expressly to you, so the main reason to keep them would be only if they’re of exceptional quality. There’s also the situation of a sex worker retiring and/or knowing after the fact that their content was abusive or coerced in some way. I think a situation like that is more for each person to decide how they want to respond on their own since it is still their property if they purchased content but at greater severity of abuse I lean more towards deletion. Those are the easiest questions to answer though, and things only get stickier from here. Pun intended.

Personal nudes from private individuals carry a lot more tricky edge cases than those obtained through commerce since personal relationships are far more complicated and nuanced than the professional relationship one may have with a sex worker. Obviously if anyone asks I’m happy to delete any I have saved, and you should too, but there’s also the question of when to delete even if they didn’t ask for it.

If someone leaves your life there’s several factors that go into whether I’d feel comfortable keeping their nudes like how good of terms we’re on or if they have someone in their lives voicing concern over it. I’ve had partners leave my life on good terms and ask me to delete their nudes as well as partners leaving on bad terms while making it clear they have no issue with it.

One idea that I find fascinating is the shelf life of these things, the fact of owning nudes that are old enough that the person depicted in them almost doesn’t exist at all anymore. People change and grow all the time and nude photos, like any photos, can be a vital looking glass into the people and times we used to be a part of. Sometimes the opposite is true however, and the past needs to be let go, erased completely if need be. That leads into the idea of nudes depicting people who have since died in real life but I’ll be omitting that case from this essay for you to consider yourself.

Like most of my rambling posts there is no real point I’m trying to get at here; save that the ethical ideas we sometimes take for granted often have the same deep and complex nuances that come with living in real life, and all too often go unacknowledged by the two-dimensional view of reality social media posts offer. If you’ve made it this far I encourage you to consider any nudes you have saved and the person they depict. Even if you come to the same conclusion on them that you already held, the important part is that you engaged with the idea and made a conscious decision.

[akaraboonline]

Why Do Guys Request Nudes? According To A Man, Here Are 10 Things We're Thinking

If you date men, at least one of them has probably asked you to send them a naked picture of yourself. It's almost expected now, even if it's a little annoying. While it may appear that we're all perverts looking for images of you, that's not always the case (though it's probably a factor). Here's why guys request nudity instead of the real thing. Why Do Guys Request Nudes?

How Common Are Nudes?

As annoying as it is for guys to request nudity, it is actually very popular. According to a OnePoll survey conducted in collaboration with Avast Photo Vault, one-third of Americans have sent a nude photo at some point, with 73% admitting to doing so at least once a month. That is quite common! According to the New York Post, "it can be a healthy expression between you and your partner!" says certified sexologist and intimacy expert San Boodram. "Here's some guidance. Establish a trust code with the person you're sharing these photos with before sending them. Have an open conversation to ensure both parties' privacy. Be aware of the safe ways to share and send photos." Even if you are confident in your abilities,

Why Do People Send Them?

There are a variety of reasons why people send nudes, including but not limited to the following. - They’re in a long-distance relationship and want to feel close to their partner. - They feel attractive or sexy and want to share it. - They’re trying to set the mood for an upcoming in-person experience. - Their partner or person they’re dating specifically asks for one. - They just feel like it.

Why Do Guys Ask For Nudes?

We’re visual creatures.

This is not a surprise. We enjoy looking at things, especially when they are beautiful. When a guy asks for nudes, it's because he likes your appearance and wants to see more of you. Imagining what you look like is insufficient. He wants to see the real thing, even if it's just a picture, and even if he's seen it before and will see it again in the future.

He’s in the mood.

I'm sure you understand what I mean by "in the mood," don't you? As previously stated, men are visual creatures, so when we're horny, we want something to look at. Receiving a naked picture is exactly the kind of thing that gets us excited, so we might ask you to send us one.

We want to know if you’ll do it.

To some extent, men are simply curious to see if a woman will send them a naked photo if they ask. In one way or another, a person's willingness to go around with such a request says a lot about them. It can tell us if you're daring and free-spirited. It can tell us if you're confident enough in your body to take that photo and send it to someone. To be honest, guys don't always anticipate a positive response when they make this request, but it does tell us a little bit more about you.

We want to remember what you look like.

It's no coincidence that we keep returning to the fact that men are visual beings. If a guy has already slept with you, it doesn't mean he has a mental image of you. But if he has a picture of you naked, it will help him remember. Having that picture will help him remember what it was like to sleep with you, which is something he will want to remember. That may sound strange, but consider it a compliment.

It’s risque.

Sending sexy pictures to people is obviously more common nowadays. However, it still feels a little naughty and risque. That part can be exciting, which adds to the enjoyment of the entire process, in addition to receiving the picture itself.

More Reasons Guys Ask For Nudes

We want to brag to our friends.

Spoiler alert: not all men are good. Even less shocking, not all guys who ask for nudity have the best of intentions. If a guy has slept with you, he may show you a naked photo as proof of his sexual exploits. It's also possible that when he brags about sleeping with you, he'll show that photo to his friends. I don't condone such behavior, but it is something that men are known to do.

Other girls have done it.

Nude photos are similar to Pringles in that once you start, you can't stop. If other girls have sent a guy nudes in the past, he will be more likely to ask for them again. He may believe that if one girl does it, others will follow suit, which is why he will inquire. He might consider asking for one to add to his collection. That may sound crass, but it only takes one woman sending a nude to a guy to make him believe that others will do the same.

We want to see if you trust us.

Requesting a naked photo may not appear to be a relationship test, but it can be. Most women will not send such a picture to a guy unless they like him and trust him not to share it with others. In that sense, guys will request nudity to test a woman. Is she fond of me enough to do this? Does she put her trust in me with something so personal? As previously stated, how you respond to a nude photo request reveals a lot about you to a guy.

It opens the door for something more.

Let's not pretend that sending a naked picture won't result in something more. That's what a guy is getting at in some cases. Receiving a picture can obviously put a guy in the mood for something more, but some guys believe it can also have the same effect on women. Perhaps the image will make her feel sexy and good about herself, making her want to see him and hook up with him. I'm not saying it's very effective, but some guys think along those lines.

We want a way to remember you.

To avoid sounding pessimistic, not all relationships will last forever. Some men consider nudity to be a parting gift that they can keep after the relationship ends. He obviously liked you once, at least enough to ask you for a naked picture. In this sense, a naked photo is simply a way for him to remember you and reflect fondly on the relationship.

In Conclusion

Whatever reason guys ask for nudes, it's ultimately up to you whether or not you send one. You never owe anyone anything. Do what feels right for you, and ensure that you feel empowered. When shared with someone you trust, nakedness can be fantastic. However, not everyone agrees with the concept, and that's fine. Read the full article

[preciouslandmermaid]

nothing’s gonna hurt you baby (carmy x f!reader) - Part 6

Note: I am thinking about Carmy constantly.  Also, I use some Spanish words within this fic, I am not a Spanish-speaking person, so I did research and I hope that it’s accurate (if not let me know, pls).

Warnings/Tags: Yearning, swearing, smoking, that’s it – I think.

Synopsis: It’s finally happening. You’ve hired a head pastry chef, along with two others, and are preparing for a summer opening in the next two months. You’ve been so busy that you’ve hardly had any time at all to think about Carmy.

Delilah asks you to use her booth space at the annual North River Spring Festival. You should’ve known you’d be next to bunch of other restaurants. However, some are more familiar than others.

(Read on Ao3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dani was your first hire just before the end of March and you hired Leslie and Ted two weeks later. The bakery started to look like a respectable, desirable place of business. Last week, you made another order for furniture while walking through the space. You smiled, feeling proud, and took several steps backward to take a picture.

The front window originally had tall tables and stools, but you replaced them with chocolate brown armchairs and an oval shaped coffee table. You installed a bookshelf into the empty, useless wall. You thought it would be different and cute to have a reading nook within your bakery. Someone could order a cupcake and read a novel at their leisure.

You snapped a few pictures, angling for the best light, even though the empty bookshelf looked…sad. Whatever. You opened your messaging app to send the photos to your mom, your friends, and your thumb hovered over the text thread with Carmy.

His words remained on your screen: ‘I’m glad you’re OK’ and the timestamp read nearly 3 weeks ago. He called twice. That’s what got under your skin whenever you thought about it (which wasn’t often for the record). He was worried about you—well, not you, obviously. He was worried about your business and still took the time to call you twice. You tossed and turned, chalking it up to professional curtesy, and general kindness but your thoughts and feelings lingered. What could’ve happened that night if you picked up the phone? You sighed.

Your heart flipped and you typed a quick message before you could overthink it. You attached the best image of your reading nook with the question: ‘Book suggestions?’

You stared at the screen for longer than you wanted to admit, expecting the bubbles to appear. What were you thinking? Fuck. Okay, be realistic, you couldn’t unsend the message or delete it and it wasn’t like you said anything inappropriate. It was perfectly friendly. You didn’t send him a nude. You sent him a picture of your bakery. A piece of the bakery that was yours and yours alone, separate from the cakes and menus, and from the kitchen equipment. A piece, however small, of yourself.

Is that why it felt like you sent him a nude? Why the fuck were you nervous? Maybe texting him was a mistake. Opening a line of casual communication could possibly get misconstrued as romantic interest. You considered texting again with a ‘that was meant for someone else’ to cover your bases.

“Hey, Boss?” Ted’s voice brought you out of your irresponsible stupor.

You tucked your phone away with a more-chipper than usual, “Yes?”

“We got a problem.” Ted jerked his thumb into the kitchen.

Ted was fresh out of school, rosy-cheeked and bald, with a thick ginger mustache and heavily tattooed forearms. Dani already got into the habit of calling him ‘Teddy bear’ on account of his gentle and warm nature. When he smiled, it crinkled his green eyes and heightened the freckles that bridge across his nose and forehead. You liked Ted. He was the innovator to Dani and Leslie’s traditional ideas.

You shook your head, but a smile lingered on your mouth. “When don’t we?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stepped off the L with your phone cradled to your cheek. Your arms encircled a heavy paper bag that crinkled with each step you took. It was a precarious ordeal; talking, walking, and carrying groceries but you managed it so far.

“Delilah, I can’t – this is insane.” You said, completely flabbergasted at her idea to have you herald her spot at the North River Spring Festival in three days. “That’s your spot.”

“And half my crew has food poising.” Delilah groaned. “This is a matter of health and safety, hon.”

“We’re not even open yet!”

Delilah argued, “You said you have a menu and you’ve been practicing your bakes.”

You pressed your lips together. It was true. The four of you had some cupcakes and cakes that were going to be essentials, while the rest would be custom orders. You bounced between business and front of house responsibilities and shadowed in the kitchen as much as you could. You wanted to know how to do everything within your bakery. Why own a business and not know how to do it all?

Sure, you were running on three hours of sleep most nights and you’ve accidentally burned yourself more than once. But – God – it was invigorating. It was so much more vibrant than sitting behind a desk or giving a presentation to a board room of executives. Sure, those held their own brand of adrenaline and a rewarding pay-off that usually came in the form of a check with many zeros.

This bakery was you, though. You chose the paint, you picked out the furniture, you built the menu while laughing and trying different cakes and icings with your employees. This entire project was an honest, real challenge. Maybe that’s why your grandfather left it to you. Maybe he knew you were the only one equipped and capable enough to take it on. Your chest warmed with pride.

You wondered if Carmy felt the same way about the Beef or if it was impossible for him after his brother’s death. Granted, you only knew about Mike Berzatto’s passing through the newspaper obituary and you knew Carmy inherited the restaurant. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to connect those threads. But you still wondered. The ghost of your grandfather loomed painfully over your shoulder before you made the decision to turn it into a bakery. You couldn’t imagine how Carmy must feel, working in that space, and knowing his brother stood in front of the same stove.

“I’m assuming your silence is agreement.” Delilah said after you hadn’t responded for a full minute.

“Shit. Sorry.” Your cheeks flushed. “I was – uh – I was lost in my head.”

“Baker’s brain!” Joked Delilah.

You chuckled. “I don’t think that’s a thing.”

“Listen. You can use the Spring Festival to test your bakes and get customer feedback. It’ll be good for exposure.” She sighed. “And I already paid the nonrefundable fee to be there, so you’ll be making my money worthwhile.”

“Fine, fine. Let me run it by my people first, though, okay?” You acquiesced.

Delilah gasped. “You’re an angel.”

You snorted, “Okay, doubt that. I’ll call you in a bit.”

You juggled groceries and struggled with your apartment keys before nudging your door open with the tip of your boot. You focused on one task at a time. First, putting away groceries which consisted mostly of boxed pasta, crackers, and fancy cheese. Afterwards, you pulled open an ongoing group chat with Dani, Ted, and Leslie. You blinked at your messaging screen for a moment.

Carmy’s text message thread remained stagnant. You texted him two days ago after completing your book-nook, but he hadn’t replied. Not that you cared. It didn’t matter. You were the one who pressed for distance. You were the one who set the expectations and boundaries. You were the one who left him on read for almost a month. You weren’t his best friend. You were just someone who happened to see him naked, and you happened to be building a bakery across the street from his sandwich shop. That was it. That was all it would ever be. You chewed the inside of your cheek and shook off the lingering thoughts of him.

‘How do ya’ll feel about testing our bakes at the North River Spring Festival?’

Ted’s response was immediate with a thumbs-up emoji.

Dani’s response came about an hour later while you were re-heating take-out and pacing in front of your microwave. She simply said; ‘I like it. We can try out the carrot-cake-cupcakes.’ That left only Leslie to reply, but you doubted she would go against the majority. However, you didn’t want to make the call to Delilah without having her confirmation.

Leslie replied to the group chat while you were in the shower. Her reply was an enthusiastic yes, followed by several paragraphs of ideas, that Dani and Ted bounced off and expanded. You smiled down at your phone with water droplets dripping off your face and onto the screen.

‘Ok. I’ll call Delilah.’

Your phone buzzed in your hand while you brought it to your ear. You ignored it, assuming it was just the group chat with your bakers and waited for Delilah to answer. To say she was overjoyed would be an understatement. She was ecstatic. She offered up one of her vans to transport your baked goods, which you accepted, because the idea of shoving everything into Dani’s minivan sounded like Hell.

You hung up with Delilah, nervous excitement churning in your stomach, and you laughed with astonishment to yourself. Six months ago, you were getting up at five am to go to the gym before work and getting home past midnight after schmoozing with clients at a hookah bar. Now you were standing in your bathroom with an eager group-chat of pastry chefs texting you and asking if they should make the mini-eclairs for the Festival.

You unlocked your phone and your heart skipped. A missed message from Carmy floated on your notifications screen. You opened it immediately, your heart taking a semi-permanent residence inside your throat. He replied with a photo of his own. No text attached. You squinted at it.

It was multiple towers of stacked books on the floor, and you could see their titles. Every single one was about cooking, from different cuisines, to cooking styles, and techniques. You guffawed. You weren’t even a little surprised. You dried your fingers off on the towel wrapped around your midsection and replied.

‘Nerd.’

‘You’re one to talk,’ He replied. ‘I thought it was going to be a bakery, not a library.’

You rolled your eyes, something slow and sweet loosening inside your chest, and burning low in your stomach. ‘Shut up.’

‘That’s an odd way to say thank you for the book recommendations.’

You caught yourself smiling down at your phone and groaned. You tossed your phone onto your bed, hoping that would dissuade you from replying again, and piecing together a conversation with Carmy. The desire to talk to him burned through your veins. It was the worst kind of cognitive dissonance. You needed to keep focus here – on your bakery – on your bullshit. He needed to keep his focus on his side of the street. He had his problems, you had yours, and they weren’t meant to intersect.

It wouldn’t…hurt…though…to text him the good news, right? You could be friendly and professional. You finished getting dressed into your pajamas, climbed into bed, and pressed your lips tightly together while staring at the screen.

“Nope.” You turned your phone to silent. It started with good news texts, and then next thing you’d know, you’d be telling him about your childhood and your fanciful dreams. You couldn’t risk it. Carmy was an open flame, and you were going to get burned if you kept trying to get close.

You slept like absolute garbage, too hungry with foolish hope that a new message from him would light up your screen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The three days of preparation before the Spring Festival were a madhouse. Dani perfected her carrot-cake cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. Although Easter already passed, you let Dani keep the rabbit-themed design that she enjoyed piping onto the frostings’ surface. Dani loved making faces on all her cupcakes. It was Her Thing. You could have a double dark chocolate cake and Dani would stroll up, smiling and show you, ‘Look, Boss. I have made it into a bear!’

Ted focused all his attention on making vegan, gluten-free cookies to test out. It was a guessing game to try and figure out how many you’d need for the day. You were in new territory and none of Delilah’s past experiences would apply to your menu. Ted worked out a formula to have at least 100 of the vegan and gluten-free option and 200 of the standard chocolate-chip. You suspected Ted’s numbers were too low, but you didn’t have the manpower or transportation to warrant making and bringing 500 cookies.

Leslie couldn’t decide between making a batch of lemon drizzle scones or a blueberry one. After her third visit to your office, for your advice, you pinched the bridge of your nose and said, “Just make both, Leslie! It won’t hurt to have extras, right?”

Leslie’s olive-skinned cheeks pinkened slightly and she nodded.  “R-right. Of course.”

You drummed your pencil against the edge of your desk and tried not to think about Carmy’s weight pressing you into the mahogany. You sighed, got to your feet, and decided to join the others in the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By some miracle, you made it to the Spring Festival with all your baked goods intact and your staff in an excited, boisterous mood. Ted hung the large banner above the tent and grinned while everyone else set down coolers and draped plastic tablecloths over the tables.

“We should take a picture!” Ted announced.

“Yes!” Dani agreed immediately and grabbed your shoulder, “You will be in the photo as well, yes?”

You blinked at her. “I – I guess?”

You gathered together in front of your booth, arms around each other, and Ted – kind, sweet Ted – asked a passerby to take the photo. It was an older gentleman wearing a black apron (he needed Ted to show him how to take the photo before he confidently held it upright). You smiled with Dani’s arm around your waist and Leslie’s muscled arm around your shoulders.

The older man said, “One, two, three!”

“Bake off!” Ted shouted, making Leslie laugh, and your grin nudged wider. You huddled around the phone screen to see the result. Your face softened at the sight—you looked genuinely happy.

‘The Cookie Rookie’ banner was slightly askew above your heads which made all the more endearing in your eyes. Ted promised to send the photo to everyone.

“Okay, guys, let’s get to work!” You clapped, “We’ve got shit to do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were absorbed in your element of building display of Ted’s cookies when you heard his voice. You dropped the cookie you were holding onto the sidewalk. Thankfully, no one saw, and you regretfully tossed the cookie into the nearby trashcan. Please don’t be in the empty stall next to ours. Please. You silently prayed.

Dani sounded absolutely pleased, “Tina! What are you doing here?”

“I’m working, Mija.” Their conversation continued into Spanish. You glanced to your left and saw Carmy set a heavy cooler onto the ground. No wonder he had those sinewy biceps. You looked away before he noticed you. Of course. Of course, we’re next to each other. It’s not like there’s several miles of sidewalk realty being used for this festival. You wanted to curse the Universe for this rotten luck, but everything else was going so well, and you didn’t want to jinx it.

You expected the rest of The Beef crew to join Carmy and Tina, but they didn’t. You returned all your focus on setting up. You thought – maybe – you saw Carmy looking at you out of the corner of your eye, but each time you glanced over, he was looking elsewhere, his hands busy and hair falling across his forehead.

The Spring Festival gates opened and you, and your team, got to honest work. Ted left the booth with a box of cookies in hand to walk around the festival and offer samples. You handled the front of house, while Dani and Leslie supported you, though everyone’s role under the tent switched and rotated based on need. Beneath the tent was arranged with three tables in a horseshoe shape and the back remained open to hold your stacked coolers and supplies.

“Cookie Rookie, I like that.” A customer said, his brown hair graying at the temples beneath his Cubs baseball hat.

“Yeah? Thank you.” You smiled easily. “I should’ve kept a list of all the ones we didn’t choose.” This was where you excelled. It was your schooling and professional experience coming into play. You could be charming when you wanted to be. Right now, your business needed the charm to generate enthusiasm and anticipation about your opening. Sure, the baked goods spoke for themselves, but getting to know your clientele was never a bad idea.

He asked, “You know any off-hand?” while peeling the cupcake wrapper off.

“Oh, God – uh - the only one that comes to mind is Oven Lovin’.”

You heard Tina laugh from The Beef’s tent. In your peripheral, Carmy turned his head to you, but you couldn’t discern his expression. You resisted the primal urge to look over at him to discover his reaction. Was he smiling? Impressed? Annoyed? You dug your fingernails into the mounds of your palm.

“I can see why you didn’t go with that one.” The man said while laughing.

“Short & Sweet was the other one.” Leslie said, “I liked that one a lot.”

The next customer was a young blonde girl, perhaps five or six, and her mother. While her mother spoke to Dani and ordered two cupcakes, you leaned across the table to be at eye-level with the quiet child dressed in a dazzling pink, princess gown.

“I love your dress.” You whispered conspicuously.

She performed a little curtesy. “Thank you.”

“Are you having fun at the festival?”

She nodded and on her left cheek someone had painted a rainbow.

“Mommy said these treats are for the ride home.”

You gasped theatrically. “No way! You’re so lucky!”

The little girl giggled and scrunched her nose. You returned to an upright position and waved at her when she walked away with her mother. Dani took over the front and you stepped aside, slipping gloves on your hands, and started folding boxes for orders. This table faced Carmy’s prep-station. You glanced up, half-folded box in hand, and your gaze landed on Carmy chopping onions for their hot dogs.

You watched transfixed for a selfish, singular moment. The afternoon sunlight sparkled on the river behind him, and the air thickened with the scents and sounds of the festival: laughing, conversation, smoked meats and the soft wind cutting through the tents and booths. Rationally, you knew Carmy was a competent and knowledgeable chef. However, knowing versus seeing were entirely two different beasts. He finished chopping the onions and scooped them into a plastic container for serving.

He looked up – toward you. Fuck. You looked back down and pressed the edge of your thumb into the folded line on the box. A quick check-in to your front table revealed that the line for your tent was longer than Carmy’s. You mentally acknowledged that he and Tina worked efficiently.

You clicked your tongue. “Tough day for sandwiches. It looks like everyone prefers cupcakes.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth, and you met Carmy’s eyes across the narrow, concrete space between your tables. That familiar unravelling transpired in your chest. You felt your lungs expand a little wider and your neck and shoulders softened.

“You sure about that?” Carmy ventured. “I’m sure they won’t enjoy the cavities you’ll give them.” His smile was thin, close-lipped, and brief. Your heart fluttered but you were determined to ignore it and carry on with the conversation.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Hm. As opposed to the heartburn that your sandwiches provide?”

Tina laughed.

Carmy gave a pointed look to your stockpile of baked goods near the back of your standing tent. You could practically hear the gears turning inside his mind.

He said, “You’re going to run out soon.”

“I can make more.” You shrugged nonchalantly and finally set aside the to-go box you finished. It wasn’t true. The baked goods you brought to the festival were the only ones you had. But you weren’t going tell Carmy that. You’d rather he viewed you as a skilled and prepared business owner.

“Can you?”

There was a touch of challenge in his voice and curiosity. You didn’t have a degree in cooking, or baking, but you were tenacious and figuring out everything by hands-on experience. Did that mean you fucked up a lot? Yes. One time you tried to make a meringue, the oven was too high, and it split terribly. Not the worst disaster. Another time, a mislabel resulted in banana bread being made with salt instead of sugar. It was completely inedible.

“Mhm.” You grabbed another flat box from beneath the table and began folding, “I’ve improved since last time.” The back of your neck flushed with the tempting memory of the last time Carmy was in your kitchen. The carboard bent with more force than you intended and you quickly re-adjusted.

You looked over your shoulder to Dani, “and Dani calls me Jefe in the kitchen.”

Tina appeared at Carmy’s side and used a spoon to drop relish on the hot dog within the red-and-white paper container.

“She’s calling you ‘Boss’.” She explained with a weighted, perceptive glance to Carmy. You didn’t know Tina or her relationship to Carmy well enough to even try and interpret the look. You filed it away to be Thought About Later.

“Huh.” You pursed your lips, finishing the second box quickly now that your attention wasn’t distracted on Carmy’s tattooed hands. “I was hoping for a cuter nickname.”

Tina muttered, “Try loquita.”

A fresh rush of customers brought you away from the folding station to the front table. The hours slipped by like sweet honey. You joked, you flushed and smiled at the compliments, and ran out of business cards. Ted returned for a re-stock on sample cookies and his bald head was shiny and cherry-tomato red from the sunlight.

“Ted, spend some time under the tent.” You said while untying your apron. “Gimme the box.”

“Oh, no! Boss - I got it.”

You pointedly held out your hand, staring at him, and wiggled your fingers. “Not a suggestion, Teddy. Box. Please.”

Ted sighed and reluctantly handed it over. You patted his sweaty cheeky with your hand. “Get some water, too. There’s some in the yellow cooler that Leslie brought.”

“There’s granola bars too.” Leslie added.

“I have my phone. Call me if you need anything.” You said before leaving and you felt like a Mom of Three instead of their boss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carmy watched you go and lost you instantly in the crowds of walking festivalgoers. He slid his fingers through his greasy, mussed hair. You lit up like a fucking Christmas tree today and he couldn’t—legitimately could not—stop staring. You were sincere and attentive to each customer with an openness on your face that he’s rarely seen. He knew you held softer edges, especially after you talked him through a panic attack, but he assumed they weren’t shared with anyone else. Especially not the general public.

You were clever, humorous, and vivacious in every interaction. His ears buzzed with the magnificent sound of your laughter and the lines of your smile burned into the back of his eyes. He scanned the crowd fruitlessly. Wherever you were, it wasn’t here, and you likely wouldn’t return for a while. He slipped a new pair of gloves on his hands and stepped around Tina in the tight space.

“You gonna chase after her or what?” Tina asked with a small, teasing grin.

“W-what? What?” He blinked and averted his gaze, “No.” It boggled his mind why Tina would even ask a question like that. All the vendor and food booths were scheduled to remain open until the festival ended. He couldn’t go anywhere.

“Good.” She sniffed, “I don’t want to work this booth alone.”

She continued, “Not saying I couldn’t, but it’s so much easier with you here, Jeff.”

“Heard, Chef.” Carmy said, distracted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You lifted the cooler into the back of Delilah’s van with a strained, exhausted grunt. You pushed both hands through your hair to move the damp pieces out of your face. You wished you could pull your t-shirt off and twist away the sweat that’s soaked into the cotton. The riverside granted a gracious, lovely breeze but the hot sun reflected off water and the black pavement. It was no wonder Ted returned to the tent sweating like a stuck pig.

From behind you, Carmy said your name.  

He was backlit by the picturesque setting orange and buttery golden sunlight. The light framed him in holy radiance. The clouds were pink-tinged, like cotton candy whisps, and the river glittered with a thousand diamonds across its quiet, mirrored surface. A trail of cigarette smoke snaked upward from Carmy’s fingers, and a flick of ash scattered onto the wind.

You leaned back into the side of Delilah’s pink van and extended your hand with a pointed glance to his cigarette. His blue eyes brightened in wordless reply. He sidled next to you and his shoulder brushed yours. You exhaled smoke and watched it plume and float away like another cloud into the cosmos.

Carmy was the first to break the gentle, comfortable silence. “You were incredible today.”

You smirked around the cigarette filter. Your heart swelled with his praise. You hated to admit that it meant something hearing it from him. He wasn’t being fake or manipulative. Carmy was remarkably honest. It was refreshing after a career of sly, passive-aggressive behavior within offices and the empty sympathy that ran like an artery through your childhood.

“You weren’t so bad yourself.” You passed the cigarette back to him. The dying light cut his profile like a gold-leaf painting of an overwrought Emperor. Your heart squeezed like a fist. “Nothing caught fire.”

“Not yet.”

Leaning side by side, the warm metal of the van pressed against your spine, and the back of his knuckles grazed against yours. If you moved your hand less than an inch then you could hook your index finger around his. (Not that you were going to. But you could). You licked your dry lips and lightly bit your lower lip before releasing it.

He passed the cigarette again. “We still have to make it back to the Beef.”

“I have faith in you.” You said with a slow, careful smile.

You tilted your head, temple pressed into the side of the van and looked up at him. Your heart jumped in surprise. He was looking at you, head leaning against the metal, just like yours. His lips were parted softly, his face flushed and sweaty from the laborious day you both endured. The pockets of blue sky within the pink clouds were sallow and dull compared to the clear, alluring shade of his eyes.

You were trapped like a rabbit in a snare. After the chaos of today and this week, nothing and no one could move you from this spot. This quiet, sacred space of resplendent sunlight with Carmy’s knuckles touching yours and your smile reflecting in the wide, dark pupils of his weary eyes.

His lips quirked into a small, dimpled smile. The flame scalded the tip of your nose. Too close, too close.

“I should get going.” You said quietly as if afraid to break the spell of this moment. Carmy held a magnetic force over you, drawing you into his orbit, and threatening to upset the balance of your entire newly built life.

“Yeah, me too.” His smile lingered, “Tina’s waiting for me.”

“You shouldn’t keep her waiting then.”

He nodded. “Probably not.”

No one moved. Chicago breathed with life around you with cars honking intermittently and the faint, thumping bass of someone showing off their sound system. As you stood here delaying the inevitable farewell, you realized the real problem. Carmy slid into the interlock of this new life like a missing key. You saw an echo of yourself in him. A kinship. Your similarities ran deeper than your differences and you suspected you’d uncover more if you allowed yourself to dig deeper.

You sighed, a delicate exhale, filled with a thousand things you couldn’t say. You wanted to invite him back the bakery. You wanted him to meet everyone – your team, your ragtag little family – and you wanted to grab coffee with him before work. Your fingers twitched, knocking knuckles against his, and Carmy’s eyelashes flutter.

You pushed away from the van, “Night, Carmy.”

“Wait—” He took a half-step forward toward you and a rushing sense of déjà vu hit you. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be here today?”

You turned your face away and focused on the other vendors dismantling and packing away their supplies. You couldn’t tell him the simple, complicated truth: ‘I didn’t tell you because I was afraid of getting close to you and letting you in more than I already have. Because you deserve better than I could ever give you.’

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, “I just didn’t think it mattered.”

He said quickly, “It matters.”

Your brow furrowed and your gaze locked onto his. His raw sincerity threatened to take the breath from your lungs. An ambulance siren cut through the air, sharp and wailing, and a flash of red light danced fleetingly across his face.

“I – I guess I just…” He averted his eyes and scratched his forehead. “I’m always surprised when I see you. You’re never where I – where I expect. It, um, it would be nice to know when you’re gonna be somewhere.”

You swallowed and pressed your lips together. How could you even respond to that? You considered deflecting with humor or being rude and calling him a stalker again. Yet, neither response felt suitable. Carmy blinked a few times and shook his head. He seemed to come to terms with something and you watched it play out across his face.

“You don’t have to tell me, actually.” He began. “I’m glad the bakery thing is working out for you. You seem…I mean…you look good. Y-you look happy.”

“I am.” You admitted, “especially when I need to be.” You added with deep, vulnerable honesty. The sincerity of his nature effortlessly pulled the truth from your lips.

Carmy met your eyes and there—you saw it—the mirror, the echo, the similarity beneath the exhaustion and ambition. You realized with a painful, resounding bang of your heart that the emotion was grief. You clenched your jaw. Silence prolonged, weighted, and poignant, tugging at your heartstrings and begging for a reaction.

A line formed between his brows, “None of that, back there with your customers or – or with your employees, felt fake to me.”

“It’s not fake…it’s…more like…” You rubbed the back of your neck, searching for the right words, “practiced compartmentalizing. I guess.”

He stepped closer and your heart heightened, beating incessantly, and demanding you to feel. A chill flooded the air with the suns’ absence and the sky overhead blossomed like an old bruise.

“And now?”

You peered at him and were a little suspicious of his question. You suspected his question went beyond your happy-go-lucky performance at the festival. “You mean like right now? With you?”

He nodded a little. You inhaled deeply. You weren’t sure what sort of answer Carmy was looking for. Did he want to know if he made you happy? Did he want to know if you compartmentalized your feelings around him? Did any of it actually matter? You knew that you breathed easier around him but telling him would be disastrous. Sort-of-Friends don’t tell each other things like that.

You shrugged. “I don’t know.”

It wasn’t a lie. You weren’t sure how to define your emotions around Carmy. You weren’t sure if you even wanted to. The flames were starting to singe the fine hairs in your nostrils. You were going to burn yourself. If Carmy was the bonfire, then you were reactive gasoline. Everything would blow up in both of your faces if you allowed yourself to pursue this. (Whatever this was. This weird pseudo-friendship that tempted to scrape against the deeper, hidden parts of yourself).

You reached into the pocket of your jeans and the van car keys jingled, “I really have to go. S-sorry.” You took a step backward, “See you in the view across the street.”

“Yeah, I get it.” A muscle in his throat moved. “See you.”

You climbed into the driver seat with your palms damp and slick against the steering wheel. The van rumbled to life, loud as the heartbeat in your ears. Against your better judgement, you peeked into the review mirror before merging into traffic.

Carmy stood facing the river. The shroud of twilight around him diffused by the orange lamps crowded with moths overhead. You straightened your shoulders and tore your eyes away – forward, through windshield glass, to the busy, frenzied streets.

>>>> (Part 7) >>> 

[fortuositywritings]

Terms & Conditions

Series Masterlist

Wanda x Reader, Fake Dating AU, multi-chapter, need i say more?

Summary: You’re a troublemaker rich kid whose parents are fed up. Not another cent until you prove you are responsible like this Peter Parker kid at this Stark gala.

“You cannot be serious?!”

“Oh, but I am and it is time you take things seriously as well!” Your father’s booming voice causes everyone in the room but you to flinch. “This is the last time you make a fool of yourself and make your mother and I look like we bred an imbecile. Front page no less!”

He throws the magazine on the coffee table. Sure enough, there you were on the cover. A picture of you and Harry Osborne, a guy you see from time to time, where you are both nude in a hot tub is displayed for all to see, obviously blurring out the more sensitive areas. This was from two weeks ago. The caption reads “Hot New Couple or Another L/N Summer Fling?” You roll your eyes at it. 

“No one reads those trashy magazines,” you reassure your father but clearly he thought you would say that because he pulls out his phone. “No, but they do like social media and apparently you are quite popular on there.”

He shoves the cellphone in your face and you see that “hot tub” is trending. You can only assume what that meant. You sigh and take the phone from your father to skim through the socials and what people are saying. You read things like “Not the Osborne and L/N partnership I was hoping for, but I’ll take it” and “No, Harry. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into” with someone replying “We’ve all seen the photos. He knows exactly what he’s getting into and I wouldn’t mind getting into it too”. You scrunch your face up in disgust at that comment and hand your father his phone back.

“I am assuming Lana saw this? What did the missus have to say?” you sneer. Ever since your step mother stepped into the picture, your father actually started paying attention to what you do, acting like he cares because it’s not like he had over 20 years to play the role of the caring father. 

“She actually gave me the idea to do this, actually,” he admits, making you scoff, “Of course she did.”

“You’re lucky she did, because I’ve had it with you. At that moment I was ready to cut you off, but she told me to give you a chance to prove you could grow up and take responsibility for once. So that is what you are going to do if you want to live the way you do. Do you hear me?” he practically chews you out, no shame in doing it in front of the help who pretend to clean but in reality try not to smile at you finally getting reprimanded for your behavior. 

“Well, how am I supposed to do that?” you whine.

“You start by getting off your ass and getting ready for the gala,” he commands. 

You throw your head back and groan in a petulant manner.

“I don’t want to hear it, Y/N. You are going and that is final. It’s a black tie affair so wear appropriate attire. It is a formal event, not a club. This also means best behavior. Y/N, are you listening,” he snaps at you. 

“Ugh, yes. No skanky dress and no getting drunk. Got it,” you respond.

“Watch it. Go,” he relieves you of his scolding you. You get up from your seat and head to your room, rolling your eyes at Susan, one of the cleaning ladies who you see smirking. 

You slam your bedroom door shut and jump into your bed, throwing your face into your pillow to scream. After letting out your frustration, you turn over and pull out your phone. You decide to text Harry. You send him an article of the two of you.

You: Hey, your ass is trending. 

Harry O: correction: our asses and your tits are trending

You: right. How could i forget my tits

Harry O: don’t know cause they are pretty unforgettable

You: gross. Yours are pretty nice too, i guess

Harry O: you guess?? they are fkn spectacular

You: Mmmm if you say so

Harry O: come over and see for yourself ;)

You: Can’t. I have to go to the stark gala. My dad is making me go. I am now meant to be on my best behavior from here on out after that photo.

Harry O: how did he pull off that miracle? did he say he’d cut you off or something?

You: …

Harry O: he did, didn’t he!! that’s great haha

You: Shut up. 

Harry O: maybe i’ll see you there

You: k

Harry: you know just how to make a guy feel wanted

You roll your eyes at his response but don’t reply. You leave your phone on your bed as you go to your closet to look for what to wear tonight. 

“No skanky dress,” you talk to yourself as you rifle through your clothes. You deepen your voice to mock your father. “It’s a formal event, not a club, Y/N. Be on your best behavior, Y/N, cause it’s a black tie affair, Y/N.”

You sigh, none of the dresses calling your attention. “Black tie, black tie, black tie,” your eyes scan your closet and finally something catches them. You smile. “Well he said black tie.”

When it’s time to leave, you get in the back seat of the car where your father and stepmother are waiting for you. Your father looks at your outfit and sighs. “Y/N.”

“What? You can’t say anything when you are wearing the same thing,” you counter. You smirk when he bites his tongue and tells the driver you’re all ready to go. 

“I think you look lovely, Y/N,” Lana compliments you. Your smile dies, Lana quickly killing your good mood. She is always throwing you compliments or acting so over the top nice to you. She married your father already. No need to butter you up anymore. She won.

“Thank you, Lana,” you mumble. Although you may dislike her, you also have good manners. 

“At least fix up your tie,” your father adds. You don’t.

You find yourself wishing you were anywhere else for the fifth time in under an hour. You go through the motions, greeting everyone with a smile, sticking to your father and stepmother, taking pictures alongside them, letting them carry the conversation with other rich acquaintances they call friends. You reach for a champagne flute but your father stops you with a look. It’s the third time he’s done that. 

“If you’re thirsty, I’m sure they have water or club soda,” he says. 

“Great idea. Thank you, father. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go find some right now. I’m parched,” you let your parents and their so-called friends know. 

You head towards the bar. You stand next to a brunette woman who sits sipping on her drink, looking bored. You grab the bartender’s attention.

“Can I get a club soda, please?” you ask. You look around and notice the bar is pretty hidden so you stop him and revise, “Actually, make that an old fashioned. Thanks.”

“Do you actually like that?” the brunette beside you speaks. 

You turn your head to reply. She is stunning and you are not even looking at all of her. Her eyeshadow makes the green of her eyes pop and her curled eyelashes make them look bright. She awaits your answer, raising an eyebrow. You remember what she asked and smile. “Of course. Would I order it if I didn’t like it?”

She shrugs but keeps her eyes on you. The bartender slides you your drink. You thank him and then down it in one go when it is meant to be sipped. You pull a face of disgust.

The brunette giggles beside you. “So you don’t like it.”

“God, no. It’s gross, but it does the job,” you explain. 

“And the job is?” she asks.

“Getting me drunk,” you state bluntly, making her laugh. 

“Not a fan of these parties, I take it?” she assumes.

This time you laugh. “Parties, yes. Galas and any other event where I have to wear fancy dresses and pretend to care about enterprise-value-to-sales ratios, not so much.”

“What are enterprise-value-to-sales ratios?” she asks, feigning interest in the matter. She even leans her head on the palm of her hand to tilt her head up at you in curiosity.

“It’s basically a number investors can use to value-” you see the amusement in her eyes and you cut yourself off. You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, haha. Very funny.”

She starts laughing, her shoulders shaking and her head thrown back. You feel foolish for falling for it so easily but you can’t be too mad when the result is making a pretty girl laugh. 

“Y/N!” your father’s voice makes its way across the room to you pulling your attention away from the beauty beside you. He waves at you to come over and you hold up your finger for him to give you a moment. 

“Shit, does my breath smell like alcohol?” you ask her, but right as she is leaning in you say, “Of course it does, what am I saying? It’s all I’ve had. Excuse me, could I get that club soda, please?”

The bartender serves you and the brunette watches in amusement as you use it like mouthwash. You turn to ask her again, “Okay, how about now?”

She gets in real close. You could smell her perfume and it is intoxicating. She pulls away, “I think you’re fine. Just do not breathe heavily when you speak.”

“Noted. Thank you for entertaining me. If there were more people like you at these things, I might even enjoy them. If you care to rescue me later out there, my name’s Y/N.”

“Wanda,” she replies. You hear your father call your name again. You widen your eyes and purse your lips in frustration, not wanting to roll your eyes. Wanda giggles, “I think they’re calling you.”

“I should have gotten two drinks,” you say just loud enough for her to hear as you walk away. 

Another excruciating hour ticks by. You play the doting daughter, speak when spoken to and keep on your best behavior, but this act is wearing you out. Someone joins the conversation, two someones actually. It’s Harry and some other guy who gives everyone a timid smile. 

“Hello, everyone. Mr. and Mrs. L/N. You look wonderful,” Harry compliments your stepmother, making you roll your eyes. She thanks him and he turns to you. “Y/N, had I known you were going to show me up in a suit, I wouldn’t have come.”

Everyone in the group laughs but you narrow your eyes at him instead. His friend pipes up, “You do look very nice, Miss L/N. I can see Harry is the lucky one in the relationship.”

You scrunch your face and Harry bursts out laughing. Everyone else in the group looks uncomfortable aside from your father who looks to be getting angry and Harry’s friend who seems confused. He glances at Harry hoping he’d explain. He doesn’t.

“We’re not dating,” you tell him. 

“Oh, sorry. I assumed because of- no yeah, sorry,” his friend cuts himself off before saying what you all knew he was going to bring up. 

“It’s alright. Everyone assumes, no one asks,” you shrug. 

“I’m sorry about my friend Peter here. This Stark internship is taking a toll on his social skills,” Harry jokes alleviating the tension immediately. The group takes an interest in Peter’s internship with Tony Stark. Your father takes a liking to Peter and after he and Harry leave to greet other people, you don’t stop hearing about it. 

“You know, you should really take some notes from that boy, Peter. Securing an internship before graduating high school, impressive. See that is what you could be doing,” your father drones on. You stop listening and just nod your head when it seems appropriate. You could really use another drink.

Wanda on the other hand has been nursing her drink at the bar. She also does not like these galas, but being part of the Avengers, it’s expected of her to show up. She wonders how much longer she can stay before it isn’t rude to leave. Maybe another 30 minutes.

“You look gorgeous, but that never surprises me,” a voice breaks through her thoughts. God, she hoped he wouldn’t be here. She downs her drink before she straightens up and turns to greet her ex-boyfriend.

“Hello, Joaquin. I didn’t expect to see you here,” she gives him a forced smile.

“Yeah, well Sam invited me and what could I do, you know,” he chuckles.

Wanda mumbles under her breath, “Say no.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Okay, it was nice seeing you. I think I hear someone calling me,” she lies trying to escape. She gets up from the stool and tries to walk past him but he steps in front of her. 

“You’ve stopped answering my messages,” he starts. She sighs defeatedly. 

“Maybe I have nothing left to say,” she tells him. 

“Look, Wanda. I’m sorry about how things ended but I think we should try again,” he blurts out. Wanda scoffs and goes to reply but he continues, “I know, I know I messed up. I can admit that but I really think now is our time. We were so good together and we can be again.”

“It’s too late.” Wanda shakes her head. 

“It’s not too late. I care about you and I know you still care about me,” he insists, but she keeps shaking her head. 

“I don’t. Not anymore,” she assures him, but he still doesn’t believe her.

“Give me one reason why we can’t try again,” he demands. He really wasn’t going to let this go. Wanda avoids his eyes and catches you clearly dozing off as your father speaks to you. An excuse springs in her head looking at you. 

“Because I am seeing someone,” she falsely confesses. 

“Oh, really. Who?” he asks, tone full of disbelief.

“Y/N,” Wanda answers and at the same time calls you telepathically.

You jump, startled by the voice in your head. You recognize it. You look around and sure enough the brunette from earlier is looking right at you. She’s talking to some guy but she stares at you like she expects you to do something. Your father asks if you’re okay.

“Yeah, I’ll be right back. I think somebody’s calling me over,” you reply and without another word, you make your way over to the bar. Wanda sees you approach, confusion written all over your face. She just hopes you can act.

You tread lightly, interrupting the guy speaking with your presence. Wanda smiles widely at you like you just told her she is going to Disneyland and then she shocks you when she throws her arms around you. 

“Darling, I was just talking about you,” she says. She leans in as if to kiss your cheek but whispers in your ear, “Play along, please.”

And whoever said “please” was the magic word had never been more right. When Wanda pulls back from your cheek, your hands immediately wrap around her waist so gracefully it’s like you’ve done it a thousand times. You smile like you’ve been told your father is getting a divorce. 

“Good things I hope.” You turn to acknowledge the guy standing there, keeping one arm around Wanda’s waist. She holds that one with one hand and the other she hangs on your shoulder. He stares at you hard as if he is studying you. You flash him a grin anyway and push your unoccupied hand toward him in greeting. “Hi, I’m Y/N. And if she told you I snore, she’s lying. And you are?”

“Joaquin,” he answers confidently, shaking your hand. He has a little grin on his face when he says this but when he sees his name doesn’t ring any bells he tries again. “Joaquin Torres. Seriously?”

“Sorry, have we met before? I don’t mean to be rude,” you play confused. You know based on his attitude and his expecting you to know who he is that he was something to Wanda in the past. He looks so offended by you not knowing who he is that you almost laugh. 

“Wanda has never told you about me?” 

“I can sincerely say that your name has never come up in any conversation we’ve had,” you reply. Technically that isn’t a lie.

“Oh, then you must not have gotten to the exes talk. You haven’t gotten serious yet,” he assumes, mostly for his peace of mind. He’s back to his cocky self. “I mean no offense. I just don’t want to get Wanda in trouble for talking to me.”

“And why would Wanda get in trouble for doing that?” you challenge him, setting him up.

“Because I’m her ex,” he explains, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Well weren’t you a lucky one,” you sneer. Wanda tries to hold back a laugh and tucks her head into your neck to pull herself together but you hear the small snort she lets out. You purse your lips to hold in your laughter now and pinch her waist as if to scold her for nearly making you break character. 

Joaquin straightens his back, basically puffing his chest at you. You give him an unimpressed look that he ignores to warn you, “You seem like a really good kid…”

Clearly he doesn’t read those trashy magazines or he would have not said that. Wanda pulls away from completely burying her face into your neck to turn to her ex. 

“...and you really lucked out here with Wanda, so just a piece of advice. Don’t let her go, because you never know who may come in and take your place.”

It’s obvious he’s implying he intends to get Wanda back. This guy has some audacity. You just met Wanda. You don’t know anything of their past relationship but fuck her ex. 

“I’m not too worried.” You move to wrap both arms around her waist from behind as if to prove your point and to put the cherry on top you make a show of kissing her bare shoulder and say, “But thanks for the advice, Harvey.”

“It’s Joaquin,” he corrects you, annoyed that this isn’t going the way he planned.

“What did I say?” you play dumb.

“You called me Harvey.”

“Sorry about that, buddy.” You hope the faux apology comes out as condescending as you meant it to. You find calling someone older than you ‘buddy’ always does the trick. He clenches his jaw but doesn’t say anything. 

Joaquin just stands there and stares at you, not even blinking. Wanda rolls her eyes at his childish behavior of resorting to a staring contest to try to one up you. She doesn’t have to turn her head to know that you are indulging him and have yet to lose because she can see her ex getting irritated. 

Her eyes wander away from this pissing game happening and they land on people dancing. She uses it as the perfect opportunity to end this odd confrontation. 

“Darling?” She squeezes your hand to grab your attention.

“Yes, love?” 

“Let’s go dance,” she suggests, but you really don’t have a choice because she is pulling you away from her ex now. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Juan!” you shout as you are being dragged away. 

You can hear Wanda laughing ahead of you. When you get to the dance floor, Wanda turns to face you, pulling you close enough that she can wrap her arms around your neck. Your hands naturally fall to her sides. You start swaying to the music.

“I’m actually not much of a dancer,” she admits shyly.

You smile at the switch in attitude. Earlier she was so brazen, pulling you into her arms and claiming you were together to her ex and now she can’t even look you in the eye. You find it cute. 

“Well I hope you are a fast learner, cause I am an excellent dancer,” you smirk, pulling her against your body unexpectedly. Wanda lets out a yelp and then a giggle when you dip her and pull her back upright. 

You dance until Wanda’s feet get tired. You find an empty table to sit at. Before you take a seat, you offer to get her something to drink. She gratefully accepts and you head back to the bar. You order a drink for Wanda and ask for a water bottle for yourself. 

The bartender leaves your drinks in front of you and you hear Harry’s voice say, “I thought you were supposed to be on your best behavior?” He appears by your side and eyes the alcoholic drink in your hand.

You roll your eyes. “This isn’t for me.”

You look over in Wanda’s direction and his eyes follow. He smirks, “Oh, I saw you two earlier. Nice dance moves.”

“Someone had to keep me entertained while you showed off your new friend. Thanks for that by the way. Now I have to get an internship to appear as responsible as your dear friend Peter,” you groan.

Harry chuckles at the situation but he offers, “I could ask my dad a favor and you could come work with me at Oscorp.”

You shake your head. “And have to see you every day? No thank you,” you joke. “Seriously though, thank you for offering but I think this is something I have to find on my own to please my father. Now, there is a pretty lady waiting for her drink, so I must go.”

“Yeah, good luck trying to hit that. You know she’s an Avenger right? She’s not going to fall for your bullshit,” he taunts. 

“Why do you assume I’m trying to sleep with her? I’m on my best behavior, remember?” you remind him. He shakes his head laughing as you head back to the table. You place the drink in front of Wanda. “Here you are.”

She thanks you then notices that you didn’t get a drink for yourself. “Are you letting me drink alone?”

You smile. “I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be here. Usually my stepmother gets tired by the end of the third hour and since it seems like she calls the shots, we leave when she wants to go. Also, I’m meant to be on my best behavior, which to my father also includes no drinking.”

“Ah. Well cheers to being on your best behavior,” she lifts up her drink and you tap your water bottle against it laughing.

After taking a sip of her drink she says, “Thank you by the way for saving me earlier.”

“Of course. It would have been rude of me to ignore you when you shout my name,” you shrug.

“Shout?” she asks, confused.

“Yes, didn’t you? Or am I suddenly hearing voices in my head?” you ponder. You could have sworn it was her voice.

“Do you not know who I am?” she asks, curiously.

“You’re Wanda. And I’ve just been told you are an avenger,” you answer. Then it clicks. “Wait! You’re the one with the red magic. You can, like, lift things.”

She chuckles, “Amongst other things.”

“Are you saying that was actually you in my head?” you start catching on. Wanda nods and bites her lip, worried that you might get mad at her for doing that.

“You scared the shit out of me, but that’s incredible. No wonder your ex wants you back. He was dating a beautiful, kick ass Avenger. Imagine screwing that one up.” You shake your head, wondering how he could let Wanda go. 

Wanda blushes but answers that for you, “The power stuff isn’t for everyone, I guess.”

“So can you read people’s thoughts?” you ask to avoid talking about her ex, not wanting to bring up possible bad memories.

She nods her head and decides to play with you. “And I can read your future.”

“No way. Show me,” you demand.

“Give me your hand,” she requests. She takes your hand on the table and closes her eyes, pretending to concentrate. “Let’s see. You will have to make a hard decision in the near future, so get your priorities straight. Your lucky numbers are 8, 12, 23.”

You scoff and Wanda opens her eyes, shining brilliantly with mirth. She chuckles, “How are you so gullible?”

“You are the worst,” you say, but you laugh along with her. A flash goes off but you ignore it, to flick Wanda’s leg with your other hand. She doesn’t retaliate but she does shuffle her chair closer to you and pulls her hand from yours in order to grab ahold of your tie.

“Sorry, it’s been driving me insane,” she says as she fixes it. You allow it and even thank her when she pulls back. She goes to put her arm back on the table but forgets her drink is there and knocks it over, it spilling on you. 

“Shoot. I am so sorry.” She grabs a cloth napkin on the table and pats your wet shirt. 

“It’s okay,” you reassure her, but she keeps patting you like it’s going to make a difference. You have to hold her wrist to get her to stop.

“Wanda, it’s fine. I’m probably leaving soon anyway,” you tell her to make her feel better. 

“Yeah, but now you smell like you’ve been drinking and the stain doesn’t help. I don’t want to get you in trouble. Here, follow me,” she demands and once again it’s not like you have a choice because she grabs your hand and pulls you along with her. 

You see her heading toward the elevators. “Where are you taking me?”

“To my room. I have clothes you can wear,” she explains as she pulls you into the elevator and presses the button for her floor. 

“You live here?” 

“Yeah. I’m always here if not on missions. We have a floor with a gym for training. So it’s like working from home,” she tells you. You arrive on her floor and she takes you to her room. Closing the door, she tells you to take off your shirt.

“Yes, m’am,” you tease. She rolls her eyes as she makes her way to her closet. She pulls out a sweatshirt for you. “Did it get on your pants too?”

“I don’t think so?” You drop your jacket, button up, and tie on the floor and hunch over trying to smell your pants. “I can’t smell anything.” 

Wanda throws the sweatshirt in her hand onto her bed and comes over to you, falling to her knees. “Come here.”

“What are you doing?” you ask her, still hunched down.

“I’m trying to see if you smell like alcohol. Now come closer,” she commands, grabbing you by your belt and pulling you. You straighten up and shuffle over until you are right in front of her. She sniffs your pants and you awkwardly stand there trying incredibly hard not to have your thoughts stray to inappropriate places.

“I can hear what you’re thinking,” she says looking up at you. Your face flushes red. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“Well can you blame me? I mean-”

“Wanda, I knew you’d be- Oh my god!”

You and Wanda jump to the sound of someone walking into the room. She stands back up. Both of you look to see Steve covering his eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t know you had company. I’ll uh, leave now. Sorry.”

He turns around and rushes out the door, closing it behind him. 

“See, he’s probably imagining the same thing,” you continue your point. 

“Oh my god. Just, here.” She throws the sweatshirt at you. You chuckle as you put it on. She glares at you. “It’s not funny. He’s probably going to try to talk to me tomorrow about the importance of locking doors or something.”

“Just tell him the truth. You were helping me out and sniffing my pants to know if they smelled like alcohol,” you advise, but saying it out loud, you knew it sounded like a dumb excuse. She gives you a look that says so as well. “Yeah, just tell him you’ll lock the door next time.”

Wanda changes as well, tired of wearing her heels and tight dress. You laugh when she motions for you to turn around, which is not fair. She got to see you change. You turn around anyway. 

She insists she’ll wash your stuff and send it over to you. There is no room to argue so you give her your number to text her your address. Right on time, your father calls you asking where you are, telling you that he and Lana are waiting for you so they can leave. You tell him you’ll meet them by the elevators. Wanda follows you down. 

“It was nice meeting you. Thank you for making today interesting,” you bid her farewell right outside the elevator.

“Same goes to you,” she replies, hugging you goodbye. 

“Y/N, let’s go,” your father calls out, cutting your hug with Wanda short. 

“I’ll be right there!” you shout over your shoulder. You shake your head at your father’s impatience, making Wanda giggle. You smile and say goodnight, walking over to your parents.

“Where are your clothes, Y/N?” your father asks while you head towards the exit. You leave him wondering, hoping you hadn’t done anything that he would deem as misbehaving.

He finds out the next day, or at least he thinks he’s found out when his assistant forwards him a link to a tabloid article titled “Y/N L/N’s magical night with Wanda Maximoff”.

He reads: 

You heard that right. Y/N L/N was seen last night at tech billionaire Tony Stark’s gala with the one and only witchy Avenger, Wanda Maximoff. Whether the two hanging out all night was planned, no one knows. This is the first time the two have been spotted together. L/N arrived last night with her father David L/N and step-mother Lana L/N. 

(Photo that was taken when you arrived)

She may have arrived with her parents, but she spent most of the night with Maximoff and looked rather chummy. 

(Photo of you holding Wanda while talking to Joaquin)

(Photo of you and Wanda dancing)

(Photo of Wanda holding your hand at the table)

Sources say L/N disappeared with Maximoff a few hours later, only to be caught outside the elevators with a wardrobe change. Does the sweater look familiar?

(Photo of you and Wanda hugging outside the elevator)

(Photo of Wanda in that same sweater a few weeks ago)

To those rooting for Harry Osborne and Y/N L/N to officially get together, you might have to keep waiting on that. It seems like L/N is not quite done playing the field. Who would when she is hitting home runs like these?

Your father feels a migraine coming on. Fortunately for you, he is on a plane on his way to another city for business, which means he can’t yell at you at the moment. He does send you a text. Two actually. 

Warden: (link)

Warden: We’re talking when I get home.

You’re confused until you click the link and read it all for yourself. 

“Oh shit.”

_______________________________________________

Had this one in the vault for a while. I’m excited to continue it. Let me know what you think and also things you would like to maybe see happen in this story! It’s still under works so suggest to your heart’s content.

taglist: @scarletswandawitch @imdreamingblo @anxietyisgreat @xxromanoffxx @romanoffomixam @diaryoflife @natashasilverfox @harleyswanda @gimaximoff @simplysimping999 @cmaysf @olsensnpm @chaekhan @dumpaccdontmindme @iliketozoneout

comment if you wish to be added to the taglist for this story or my Wanda stories or in all

[tadashiwa]

karasuno boys reacting to you sending nudes for the first time

features: hinata, kageyama, tanaka, nishinoya, tsukishima, yamaguchi, daichi, sugawara, & asahi

hinata shoyo

he absolutely loses his fucking mind

you innocently texted him "guess what i bought :D" and he obviously asked to see

and there u were. kneeling in front of a mirror. in white lingerie. and its so sheer you might as well be wearing nothing.

it's not hinata's first time seeing you in a position like this, but oh my god you sent him a picture just for him to keep all for himself of you looking like this—

he's painfully hard almost instantly, sitting back against his headboard and pulling his cock out of his shorts

instantly becomes a babbling mess and cant form thoughts

kageyama tobio

you didn't realize that oikawa was eyeing you like a man starved when you and kageyama ran into him

but kageyama sure did

and he wasn't gonna let it go

he didn't blame you, but he was just generally agitated until he dropped you off at home

but when his phone lit up with a text from you as he was brushing his teeth he didn't think twice about it, expecting a simple good night text

but he was met with a picture of you with one of his old jerseys on, the hem of the jersey in his mouth, your bare chest on display for him

kageyama forgot how to breathe

bestie if you dont answer his damn calls

tanaka

you and tanaka had been friends for a while, but you had just recently entered what one would call the "talking" stage

even when you were just friends tanaka never shied away from telling you how attractive he thought you were

and then one night you were feeling yourself, so you thought: fuck it

you texted him asking if he wanted to see this really hot picture you had taken of yourself

obviously he said yes

but what he was Not Expecting was a picture of you holding your tits in the shower, covered in soap bubbles, with your arm covering your nipples

tanaka LOST IT

he lives to serve u

nishinoya

you're sitting on nishinoya's bed as he throws a volleyball up and down at the ceiling

you're complaining about this boy you had been talking to, and nishinoya is trying his hardest not to just tell you how in love he is with you

and

and then

u have the nerve

to say

"and i sent him this really good nude and he literally just sent the thumbs up emoji—"

and then nishinoya is seeing RED

not only did this prick have the pleasure—no—PRIVILEGE—to see you naked, but he didn't even APPRECIATE IT

noya's just joking around when he says "i would NEVER—" and then he starts ranting about how to hype up a girl

but when you say "next time i'll send my nudes to you" and he can't tell if you're joking

but you're CLEARLY not joking when that night you send him a picture of your naked body on display—

he tries to play it cool but hes FREAKING OUT

tsukishima kei

you and tsukishima had been dating for a few weeks

he's clowning you because he thinks you're innocent as hell💔💔

so obviously you've gotta prove otherwise

so you send him a picture of the tattoo in between your tits

he's not even sure if you meant for the picture to be so fucking hot but there you both are and he's looking at your tattoo and he just wants to RUIN YOU—

and he's gotta make sure you know that

tadashi yamaguchi

god bless him

youre gonna actually cause him to drop dead one day

you two had done things with each other before and yamaguchi wasn't a stranger to your body

he obviously still short ciruits every time he as much as thinks about you like that though

one day, when your phone dies, you borrow his phone really quickly

but then a text from tsukishima comes through

"youre paranoid. y/n isnt gonna think u have a thing for thigh highs if u buy them a few pairs for their birthday"

and then u get an Idea.

u ordered a pair of thigh highs that night and poor yams has no idea whats coming

when they come in the mail you put on one of his shirts, the socks, and nothing else

you sit on your calves and bunch up the shirt in your hands and spread your legs juuuust enough for yamaguchi to see how turned on you are

you send him a picture and tadashi literally dies LMAO

he cant even express how bad he needs u

and u dont really grasp it until u see him again

good luck bestie

daichi sawamura

you and daichi had been together for a little over a year

he was away and you hadn't seen him for a while and you needed him

thankfully, the feeling was reciprocated

daichi made this clear when he texted you from his hotel room at 2am LMAO

my boy needs u expeditiously 💔🙏

he asks if you're awake because he wants to hear your voice

when he calls you and you can hear that his voice is a bit strained you know exactly whats going on

"daichi? you're touching yourself aren't you?"

"yeah. yeah, i am, i'm sorry i just need you so bad—" he whines

"don't stop." you state bluntly

and then daichi hears clothes rustling

and then you start moaning and whining and oh my fucking god

when you hang up to go to sleep he texts you thanking you

so you bless him again

rip daichi fr fr

Sugawara Koshi

you and suga were friends

yet you both knew that with how attracted you were to each other it was only a matter of time

and then one night you're both at a party and someone has the genius idea to play truth or dare

you and suga are both a bit tipsy and so obviously you agree

and then someone dares you to let suga give you a hickey

and then you're straddling suga's lap and he's sucking on the sweet spot on your neck and holy shit

he pretends he doesn't hear you whimper over the music and you pretend you don't feel him growing in his pants

eventually you both go home and by this point you're both sobered up

and holy shit is the hickey on your neck is big

you send a picture to suga to show him his work

but you intentionally make sure he can see your bare chest

asahi azumane

this fucking man

has NO IDEA what he does to you

he sends you a mirror selfie at the gym holding up a peace sign because its just a little thing that the both of you do

and his thighs look so. fucking. good.

and so you decide your boyfriend deserves a shot of your glorious thighs right back

so youre wearing one of his shirts and nothing else and lay on your stomach with your ass in the air

and you look so cute

and asahi almost drops dead where he stands from arousal

its what this gorgeous man deserves for living rent free in your head like this

authors note: this was fun :) send me requests!!!!

[planetsano]

warnings ✰ dark content, dubcon, bully! armin, blackmail, manipulation, mind games and mind break, yandere tendencies, verbal abuse, very toxic.

bully! armin who doesn’t push you into lockers nor bumps into you on purpose so your books fall, he instead chooses to use psychological warfare over physical violence to torment you.

bully! armin who’s the class president. everyone is so unsuspecting of him because he has such a sweet and kind aura around him. no one sees the twisted nature behind his pretty blue eyes and charming smile, but you see right through it.

bully! armin who can get you to do virtually anything he pleases after asking once because you’re terrified of him. you’re wrapped around his finger— he savors every waking moment knowing that you’re another one of his puppets. but you? you’re his prized possession.

bully! armin who has a collection of all the nude photos and explicit videos he’s “made” you send. he has them all listed in alphabetical order and placed on a usb drive. it really wasn’t that he forced you— all he did was ask once and you obeyed. you know by now not to protest at his requests. they all vary from dark and blurry tit pictures you’ve obviously taken quickly in a fit of frustration to videos of you playing with yourself. he can hear your sniffles and moans in the audio, and sometimes he’ll get you to say his name. armin takes pride in the fact that he’s trained you so well.

bully! armin who texts you saying to meet him in the bathroom on a quiet side of campus while you’re in the middle of class. with a heavy heart, you do as told and you’re soon on your knees sucking his cock in the last bathroom stall. armin’s words are cutting you deep as he spoke down on you. he wants you to look up at him when he calls you a “disgusting whore.” armin also wants you to know no one would ever fuck you, and that you should be lucky because he’s such a nice guy. armin makes you say “thank you” with a mouth full of his cum, and expects you to finish the rest of your classes with his seed in your mouth— and you do.

bully! armin who tells you what to wear to class the night before. he’s on a facetime call with you and tells you to show him your wardrobe. sometimes you’ll notice that you’re wearing the same color scheme as him and other days you’re getting lingering stares from everyone because you’re not wearing much at all. when armin gets you alone he’ll let you know that you look like a slut despite him choosing your outfit. you’ll cry out in pain when he pinches your nipple, but it's your fault because he can visibly see them through your thin top. fuck, now his cock is hard. that’s your fault too so you’re obligated to let him fuck you in the backseat of his car. if you milk him in time, you won’t be late for your next class.

bully! armin who seethes when he sees you giggling at something a little too hard at some imbecile’s joke. not only were you enjoying a conversation, but you hugged him before walking away. armin caught you in the hallways, a gentle arm rested on the small of your back while he leaned in close to your ear. to anyone else ,it looked like you two could be a cute couple, but the words he spoke to you were vile and terrifying. with the sweetest voice he said: “if i ever see you talking to him again, i’ll fucking strangle you and him then make it look like an accident.”

bully! armin who calls you in the late hours of the night expecting for you to answer. he needs to listen to your sweet sniffles and cries so he can fist at his thick cock. he tells you that you can hang up at anytime, but it would be a shame if someone accidentally leaked all of your naughty videos. you’ll look like the biggest slut on campus. you wouldn’t want that, right? armin didn’t think so, now tell him how bad you want his cock. rub your clit faster, faster, he’s about to cum.

bully! armin who’s had a crush on you ever since he can remember but was too shy to confess to you. over time he’s let it fester into an unhealthy obsession, his mind taking a dark turn at his own internal insecurities and eventually taking all his frustrations out on you— someone he admired for so long. despite everything, he still has a conscience. armin is actively aware that how he treats you is sick, but he can’t get enough of seeing you bend at his every will. you were his dog and he was starting to believe this dynamic was better than any healthy relationship.

bully! armin who doesn’t know that you returned mutual feelings, and as fucked up as it is, you still do. you’ll never understand why he started being mean to you, making your life a living hell, but you couldn’t have it any other way. your heart skips a beat when you see him in the hallways amongst the sea of student bodies. his eyes always linger on you before he pulls out his phone and you get a text saying: “You look like a sloppy whore today. Don’t forget our study date later.” and you smile.

© all content belongs to rekiri 2021. do not modify or repost.

[theepisceswriter]

Sending nudes/sexting w/ AOT characters (Erwin, Levi, Reiner, Zeke, Connie)

TW: mature things obviously, fembodied!reader, typos probably bc I didnt proofread, 18+, MINORS DNI

ERWIN

Okay but having Erwin as a sugar daddy who never really expects too much of the “sugar” part out of you, but he’s so sweet and nice and such a gentleman that you can’t help but feel bad one day and send him a teasing photo of you in some lingerie he bought you a while ago and oop—now you totally just started something between you two.

It started off as just pictures in you in lingerie. You mostly covered with maybe a nipples or two poking out through the fabric, but eventually you felt comfortable enough to send him picture of nude parts of you body. And eventually you built your confidence up to send him full body nude picture in stances that make him go crazy. Like you on your knees with your hands flat against your thighs or bent over something with your ass and cunt on display.

One time you sent him soapy titty pictures and a video of you putting the soap on your titties and when I tell you this man went feral with horniness, I mean it.

I wish I could write out sexts for Erwin but he strikes me more of a video call type person rather than text. He’ll FaceTime you in a heartbeat after you send a picture, instructing you on what he wants to see and what he wants you to do with your body. Often times the video calls end up with you either fingering yourself or fucking yourself with a toy he bought for you as he watches from the other end.

“Good girl, just like that. Now spread those lips for daddy so he can get a good look at you.”

Sometimes he’ll even join in with you for a mutual masturbation. Large cock on display in the camera and in his hand as he jerks it at the same pace you’re fingering yourself so you can both reach your orgasms at the same time.

After you both but you think that’s the end of that until the next time he wants to have a session like that, but seeing you over the phone only edge him on more. “I’m sending someone to come pick you up. Be ready in 10 minutes.” Not even a goodbye or anything, but an order.

LEVI

Nudes and sexting between you and Levi are not a common occurrence at all. You two would much rather be in the physical company of each other to do anything to each other and plus, Levi doesn’t like using his phone a lot.

That’s why when Levi sent you a picture of himself with the cockring you had put on him earlier in the week as a reminder that it was still on, you were shook to your core. Not only because of the fact that he just sent you a nude, but because he looked so good in it with his cheeks flushed, eyes low just begging to orgasm, and his pink cock standing straight up screaming for someone other than him to touch it.

It was almost like he sent it to you knowing that it would rile you up and hopefully cut down on his punishment so the two of you can hurry up and use each other to your liking. And you would be lying if you said that thought wasn’t peaking at the back of your head, but this week was all about your self control along with his. As you’re thinking on how you should reply, maybe with a picture of your own or a few words to tease him, he sends you a string of texts:

(txt) I’m so needy for you baby

(txt) I don’t think I can wait three more days with this thing on

(txt) it hurts, I need you to make me feel good

(txt) so I can make you feel good too

But, just to torture him longer and get him at his neediest, you send him a picture of your cunt along with a text:

(txt) only 3 more days and then you’ll be able to have me any way you want 💜

REINER

As an adult it’s so clear that Reiner really lacks confidence at times and can be quite shy and uneasy when it comes to things. Especially when that thing is something like taking nudes that requires so much confident because let’s be honest, sending nudes isn’t always easy.

Plenty of times you’ve blessed him with lewd photos of yourself to add to his spank bank or tried to sext with him, but he just couldn’t quite catch on, but you really don’t mind at all! As long as you’re helping him orgasm and not making him uncomfortable then you could care less about his poor sexting and nude taking skills. But he wants to learn how to be more comfortable in his own skin, so he enlists in your help. At first you thought he was joking, but nope, he was dead serious.

It was kind of awkward at first trying to give him directions on how to pose if it was a nude as if you weren’t the one taking the pictures for him, but it didn’t take long for the two of you to get the hang of it. At one point he looked so good, so hot and flustered with his cock in his hand spread out on the bed that you couldn’t resist pouncing on him then and there. Which resulted in hun taking the camera from you as you rode him and taking pictures of the two of you fucking.

It sparked a tradition between you two from there on out; taking pictures of each other in sexual context whenever you can. You two don’t even need to send each other nudes at this point because you have so many nude pictures of your phone already on each other’s phones.

Not saying you dressed Reiner up in a maid outfit once and took pictures of him with his erect cock poking out underneath the dress, but you dressed Reiner up in a maid outfit once and took pictures of him with his erect cock poking out underneath the dress and you keep it in the favorites tab in your camera roll for whenever you need spank bank material.

Now he’s much more confidence with taking nude photos of himself and sometimes he’s the one to start up sexting conversations between you two.

ZEKE

There’s no one in this world who sexts better than Zeke sexts. His messages are like poetry, so descriptive and easy to visualize and leave you melting in your seat with hot cheeks. They’re just as effective on you as his dirty talk in the bedroom and if you sat there for a good thirty minutes just reading them and thinking about all you experience with him, then you could probably make yourself cum just from that.

(txt) I just want to make you tremble in my arms so bad while I pound into you from behind, my fingers playing with your swollen clit to push you into sensitivity while you orgasm

(txt) want a cock covered in cum by the time I’m through with you

What’s so funny is that he’s behind the screen doing a mundane task like eating cereal while texting you all this. He’s not even too turned on or overly horny at all, just messing with you because he knows the two of you are so far away from each other at the moment.

It’s not until you send him a video of your wet cunt on display with your fingers knuckles deep into yourself moaning out his name trying to mimic his touch, that he really gets riled up. Sitting his cereal down and all to focus on the short snippet of a video, feeling himself get harder and harder in his pants as he watches it on repeat.

(txt) Aw the needy little slut can’t get off properly without me there, can you?

He knows you’re using these texts to coax yourself into your orgasm, probably imagining him behind you whispering them in ear. So, to mess with you further knowing how much you want him right now, he sends a video back to you of him palming his erection through his pants. Knowing it’ll drive you crazy that you can’t have him right now in this moment.

CONNIE

Connie sends you pictures of his dick all the time and not even necessarily in sexual content either. You’ll be minding your business at work and get a picture of Connie’s dick with tiny sunglasses and a mustache on it with a text that reads: “Look babe 😌 I dressed him up. He wants to go on a date with your pussy tonight.”

You cannot take this man seriously at all, simply replying to him with an emoji like ‘🤨’ thinking that’ll be the last of that for today, but boy oh boy were you wrong. Minutes later your phone is buzzing with a notification from Connie. It’s a video and because you think it’s going to be a meme or something you open it without considering your surroundings.

Immediately, the sounds of his whines and moans exit the speakers on your phone and you have to run to the bathroom to finish the rest of the video. This time you’re able to actually look at it; Connie’s hand stroking the base of his cock with a lubricant all over his hands at a pace that was going to have him cumming in only a couple of minutes. And no, the mustache and sunglasses were no longer on anymore.

You take pity on your poor boyfriend and decided to do him a favor, pulling down your shirt and bra so you’re breasts were on display for them. Angling them and holding them up in a way you knew would make him go crazy before you sent the picture to him.

(txt) enjoy 🥰

And in return? He sent you a nut video with the sound on.

[queenshelby]

My Friend’s Father (Part Ten)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Smut, Domestic Violence, Angst

Words: 2,300

Please comment and interact...it's what keeps this blog going

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

After your father stormed out you grabbed your stuff from the table and walked to your room. You were still shocked and somewhat perplexed about what happened and how he reacted and, whilst he had always had problems with his temper, this was more than you could handle.

You weren’t sure what to do but, in the middle of mid semester exams, you couldn’t cope with the stress and anger and started crying again while you walked around your room like a headless chicken.

Just as you did, your phone rang and when you saw that it was Denise who was calling, you picked up the phone.

Denise had just landed in Manchester and had realised that she had forgotten to call you following your exam yesterday. After she apologised, she asked what was wrong as it was obvious to her that you had been crying and, of course, you told her about the incident with your father.

She felt terrible for you and began to worry but, being you, you told her not to worry. You had it covered. You’ve been looking after yourself for a while after what your sister endured and, as she knew, you were working towards moving out which, being a student with only twenty hours of work and expenses, wasn’t exactly easy.

Nonetheless, Denise told you to keep her posted and let her know if she can help and, whilst she had offered to lend you money before, you never accepted and you knew that this wouldn’t change now.

***

Later that day, just when you thought matters had calmed down, your father had yet another one of his moods and suggested that you come to church with him the following day. He wanted you to join the local youth group but, since you didn’t believe yourself, you had no interest in it.

‘I am working and I am studying full time. I don’t have time dad’ you explained to him and, whilst you were happy to volunteer at the local church on occasion and participate in their fundraising events, the bible group he was referring to didn’t appeal you.

‘Obviously you have time for other things, things you should be ashamed off Y/N’ he said with a raised voice and, when your phone rang, you couldn’t help but walk away from the conversation with your father who, clearly, had built up his anger again and the last thing you needed was a matching bruise across your other cheek.

***

You went into your room quickly and picked up the phone.

‘Hey’ you said in a somewhat more happy voice when you realised that it was Cillian who was calling you.

‘Are you alright Y/N?’ he asked almost immediately with great concern in his voice before telling you that Denise had told him about the incident with your father.

‘I am fine Cillian. It’s nothing, just a bruise’ you explained, brushing it over.

‘Y/N, this is not nothing. He can’t just fucking hit you’ Cillian said and you could hear the anger in his voice.

‘Cillian, I am fine. You need to calm down please’ you said as you could hear the rage in his voice.

‘Fuck’ Cillian growled before taking in a deep breath. ‘Why didn’t you call me?’ he then asked worryingly and you knew that you probably should have made contact with him before you spoke to Denise about it.

‘You were filming and I didn’t want you to worry’ you explained.

‘This is not how this works Y/N, you can call me any time, alright? And, if something like this happens again, call my assistant if I am on set. I worry, alright...’ Cillian said in a calm and reassuring voice and, just as he did, you began to break out in tears yet again.

‘Y/N, listen please…you need to pack your stuff and get out of there before this happens again’ he then said in an equally calm voice after he comforted you the best he could.

‘Cillian, I can’t just pack up and leave’ you said.

‘Yes, you can. I told you, you can go to my place’ Cillian suggested.

‘I am not going to do that. I can look after myself Cillian and you really don’t need to worry. I am a grown woman and just because you are older than me doesn’t mean that I need you to look after me. It’s like Denise offering to lend me money. I can’t accept that and I won’t’ you said, still somewhat teary.

‘I know you are independent but that doesn’t mean that you can’t accept help in a situation like this and your friends offering you money is a little different to me offering you a place to stay for now, don’t you think?’ Cillian said, still calm but a little bit more demanding.

‘Not really’ you said, really not wanting to take his help as you felt that you would appear weak and dependant on him.

‘Fuck, you are stubborn, you know that?’ Cillian then huffed out, his voice filled with concern rather than anger.  

‘Please, for my sake, so that I can sleep at night, go and stay at my apartment. I am worried about you and I know that this isn’t the first time he did that’ Cillian then said and you had no idea what he was talking about.

‘What do you mean it’s not the first time?’ you asked.

‘It doesn’t matter, just please…you are in the middle of exams and I am worried and don’t want you to get hurt…please’ Cillian pleaded with you.

‘If you don’t get out of there, I will get onto the next plane and pick you up myself and, God forbid, your father is in my way when I do’ Cillian said as anger was building in his voice again.

When Cillian finished what he was saying, you took in a deep breath and chuckled.

‘What?’ Cillian asked in response.

‘Nothing. I just like how protective you are over me. I am not used to someone caring’ you admitted, causing Cillian to chuckle himself.

‘I like you Y/N, so of course I care’ Cillian said.

‘Thank you Cillian’ you said before accepting his offer reluctantly. ‘Just text me where and when I can pick up the key to your apartment’ you then said quietly.

‘I will text you, now go pack your stuff. There are some spare toiletries in the bathroom next to the kitchen, just take whatever you need, alright?’ Cillian said before telling you that he missed you.

‘I miss you too’ you said before saying goodbye. You didn’t really want to ruin his evening with Denise.  

****

Two hours later, you left your house without saying a word, but texted your mother that you would be staying with a friend for a while after you got into your car.

Within ten minutes, you arrived at Cillian’s apartment, which is where his housekeeper met you and handed you the keys before showing you how everything worked,.

The electricity, lightening, stereo and heaters were all controlled via some sort of device which looked an iPad and she handed you a note with the pin for the alarm system.

After she had left, you walked around the apartment and felt somewhat strange about being there without Cillian. You hadn’t really been seeing each other for a long time but yet he entrusted you with the keys to his apartment.

“I am here now. What room did you want me to use? Xx” you texted him after you had a quick wander around and it didn’t take long for Cillian to respond.

“Is that a trick question? Because you know that you can sleep in my bed, right?” Cillian then texted back without hesitation.

“Can I borrow some of your clothes too?” you then asked cheekily.

“Not sure if my clothes fit you, but sure, knock yourself out” Cillian texted back before suggesting that you should have a glass of wine and a warn bath so that you could relax.

“I just might. Want me to send you a picture when I am in the tub?” you responded and all you received from Cillian in response was an emoji that smirked, making you laugh. Not only does this emoji look ridiculous but also did he never send you an emoji before whilst you, on the other the hand, used them frequently.

***

After you had a nice long and relaxing bath, you returned to the living room, completely naked. You didn’t bother to wear any clothes since, for the first time in a long time, you were all on your own.

Walking around naked felt natural to you and, after you found yourself an interesting novel on Cillian’s bookshelf, you lied down on his bed with it and a glass of red wine by your site.

“Feels weird lying in your bed without you. What are you doing?” you texted before you stretched out across the large king-sized bed and opened the book.

“Watching a movie, although I am curious now about what you are doing on my bed. It’s too early to go to sleep” Cillian texted back and, just as he did, Denise glanced over towards him and asked him whether the movie they were watching bored him. Just as Cillian told her that he had seen the movie before, he received yet another text message from you.

“Just settled down with a book” you responded and Cillian was quick to pick up his phone again and text back, much to the amusement of his daughter.

“What book?” Cillian texted back just before Denise asked him whether he was texting with Laura Jennings after she observed that he had been on his phone pretty much all evening, texting back and forward with someone like a teenager.

‘No, we ended it. I am just texting with a friend’ Cillian said in response to Denise’s comment.

‘A female friend by any chance?’ Denise asked as she saw the cheeky smirk on her father’s face.

‘Just a friend’ he then responded to Denise as he placed his phone back on the table, shortly after which he received yet another message.

This time, unfortunately, the message didn’t contain any text but a picture instead.

‘I think your friend just sent you a nude and, clearly, your friend is a woman…a woman who must like you if she is sending you pictures like this’ Denise then laughed out loud as she saw the preview of the text from a distance popping up on his phone.

Cillian quickly reached for it, cheeks blushing red as he hoped that she wouldn’t recognise that it was you on the picture after he went through the trouble to change your name on his contact list a few days ago to your initials only.

Luckily, when Cillian opened the message after standing up and walking away from the lounge room, he realised that the picture didn’t show your face.

In fact, it showed nothing more than your naked stomach and legs while your core was covered (barely) by the book he had been asking about.

Whilst it shocked him, Cillian decided not to tell you about the fact that Denise had seen your picture in preview on his phone. He thought that, at least this way, you would send him some more.

“Nice choice…now can I get a picture without the book?” he asked cheekily and, of course, you didn’t deny him and responded with yet another more graphic picture.

Just as the phone buzzed again, Denise yelled out from the living room of Cillian’s Manchester apartment.

‘Stop sexting dad and explain this movie to us. We are lost’ she joked and Cillian couldn’t help but roll his eyes when he returned to the living room.

Cillian was quick to change the topic as he was somewhat embarrassed following Denise’s comment and, just before he returned to the living room, he texted you to inform you that he would be in touch in an hour or so.

Of course, you knew that he was spending time with Denise and didn’t mind and, instead of pondering on about the fact that Amalie was around him, you indulged in your book while you waited for Cillian to text you back.

***

Half an hour later, after the movie was well and truly finished, Cillian excused himself in order to have a shower while Denise had already passed out on the guest bed.

She was tired after travelling since, as usual, she had to take motion sickness medication before getting onto the plane.

Amalie, on the other hand, was not tired at all and decided that it was now or never in order for her to make her move on Cillian.

‘Cillian, uhm…could you give me a hand with this please, I don’t want to wake Denise’ she said as she tried to fiddle around with the zipper of her black fabric top.

‘Sure, I can try’ Cillian said, not thinking anything about it while Amalie turned around and lifted up her long blonde hair.

‘There you go’ Cillian said somewhat uncomfortably as he unzipped the back of her shirt and noticed that she didn’t wear a bra beneath it.

As soon as her shirt came undone, she turned around and, without bothering to cover her breasts, she placed her hands on to Cillian’s chest and thanked him.

‘Amalie, you might want to put on a t-shirt or something’ Cillian said as his cheeks turned red and, just as he did, Amalie leaned forward and pressed her lips onto his.

 Tag List:

@lilymurphy03@deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-your-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r  @tellingyouastory  @captivatedbycillianmurphy​  @namelesslosers​  @littlewhiterose​  @ttzamara​  @ttzamara @cilleveryone  ​

@peaky-cillian​

@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy @kpopgirlbtssvt

[glowingbadger]

I loved the Ashe, Sylvain, and Hilda modern-day HCs. So….can I ask for….Marianne, Dima, and Claude now? They’re so so good.

Here's a quick list of the places I've touched on ModernAU stuff with these characters before, for anyone who's interested! General Modern HCs (Dimitri) W/ insecure Reader (Claude, Dimitri) W/ insecure Reader (Marianne) Soft HCs (Dimitri)

I'll try not to repeat myself too much, but the SFW portion might be a little sparse because I've written a good deal of my thoughts on that already :3

Marianne, Dimitri, Claude x GN Reader

Modern/College AU headcanons

SFW (not sfw under the cut)

Marianne:

- Definitely a veterinary student who has an incredible, intuitive way with animals. One of those "gets along with animals better than people" types. As a result, many others in her classes see her as aloof or difficult to talk to. Fortunately, when Hilda drags her to a party one night, you notice her keeping to herself and come to make casual conversation. It takes a bit for her to open up, but she's soon grateful for pleasant, relaxing company in the midst of the loud chaos.

- She needs a good amount of reassurance in a relationship, as she's so convinced you could do better. Marianne is totally the type to apologize for not being good enough for you, then apologize for bringing it up, then apologize for apologizing. But her love and admiration for you are so very clear. She'll shyly take your hand in hers, and just the way she looks at you, it's like you're every star and every sunset she's ever seen.

- Marianne spends some of her free time volunteering at a local animal shelter, and one of your earlier dates would involve her introducing you to some of the animals in her care. Here, it's like you see a completely different side of her- she's so much more confident and firm when she speaks to the animals, and she smiles so brightly and laughs adorably as she watches you attempt to make a good impression on them.

Dimitri:

- We've chatted about Modern! Dimitri a good deal so far- but I will double down here on the fact that, while he's outwardly extremely intimidating to your friends when you first start dating, you know (and they learn) that he's absolute Malewife material.

- He loves sitting on video calls with you and just staring at your adorable, lovely face. He's an excellent listener, and will gladly hear about your entire day from start to finish, even if you insist it was nothing special. He's just so soothed by your voice, and the chance to see you. While he's honestly not very good at social media in general, he does have a couple hundred pictures of you saved. Not to post anywhere, just to look back at with a goofy grin on his face.

Claude:

- Claude is the guy on campus that everyone likes, plenty of people want, but no one can really nail down. He seems to know everyone, but he's only actually close to a few good friends, and for the longest time, even they assume that he's the "doesn't believe in serious dating" type. It starts much the same with you- he figures you're interesting and cute as hell, so he may as well spend some time having fun and getting to know you. And then... the feels TM creep in.

- You'll be caught up in a sort of... friendly flirtation with him for a while. The kind where it would be easy to play off all of the corny innuendos and knowing glances as "just kidding around." Then, one night, after a long group study session or just lazing around with drinks and games with his friends, he offers to walk you back to your dorm. When you get caught in a sudden downpour and have to duck under the nearest building's awning for shelter, he gives you a strange lingering look that's so much heavier than any you've seen. And without a word, he leans down to kiss you. When you part, he's wearing a slanted smile, but he's fidgeting a bit when he says, "Hey, uh, Y/N. I wanna be with you- for real. So uh... how 'bout it?"

- Claude is just the most fun boyfriend ever. He's got an active and curious mind, so he's always game to try anything you're interested in, and you'll never be at a loss for date ideas. He's the kind who gets okay grades, though nothing incredible, but his brilliance shines in how he latches on to new information, turning a topic around in his mind until he's seen it from every angle. It's especially charming when he asks to hear about your interests or areas of expertise- he asks all the right questions and the conversation becomes lively just about instantly.

NSFW 18 + v

Marianne:

- You're definitely her first sexual partner (she hasn't even dated seriously until you), and she's going to take a long time to get comfortable freely exploring the physical side of a relationship. She's a big cuddler, once you've assured her that you like it too- she finds it immensely soothing to rest her head on your shoulder or on your chest, just listening to your breathing and feeling you warm against her. But as for sexual affection, she'll start slow, testing things by letting her gentle hands tentatively wander just a little further than before, or deepening your kiss a little more than usual.

- Best practice with Marianne is to let her be the one to suggest or initiate things, but to respond enthusiastically when she does so she knows you're happy with it and you want her as much as she wants you. Your approval and encouragement fills her with warmth she's never felt before, and a sense of bold desire she hadn't even known she was capable of. There's plenty of communication with her- there has to be -but in a way, that becomes its own sort of eroticism. Soft murmurs of, "is this okay?", "does that feel good?", or "can you take more?" mix in with affirmative sighs and moans, turning the negotiation of comfort into a wonderful, slowly escalating path towards satisfaction.

- She's absolutely mortified by the idea of sexting or sending nudes, but if she sends you an outfit she's considering and reply with a coy "You look amazing- can't wait to take that off of you" (honestly the cheesier the better with the pickup lines- being too smooth would intimidate her)- she'll only respond with a single blushing emoji, but you bet she'll be wearing that outfit to your next date.

Dimitri:

- Everyone on campus, including your friends/roomates see Dimitri as such a pure cinnamon roll that you might be surprised to learn he has a rather healthy sex drive underneath all of that sweetness and affection. Granted, he's definitely most likely to desire you when he feels emotionally close to you- but that won't stop him from fucking you nice and deep until your bed creaks. The first time someone overhears you practically screaming out his name, rumors start spreading that your ever-devoted Malewife is actually legendary in bed. It's mostly a raunchy joke, but as far as you're concerned, they're not exactly wrong.

- He's too nervous to actually save any of the spicy pics you've sent him to his phone, but that doesn't stop him from regularly scrolling back through your message threads to find them. Masturbating to porn is fine and good, but when he can look at you biting your lip as you show off your body to him, he pumps his cock and bucks his hips against his hand until he cums far harder than he's used to. Dimitri especially gets a thrill out of the implied part of this- the fact that you wanted to flaunt yourself to him like this and made sure that he would linger on the sight of you.

- A very fun game is to comment or imply something about how good Dimitri fucks you while you're hanging out with his friends. He stammers and turns bright red when you mention how, "Oh don't you worry, Dimitri keeps me nice and satisfied, don't you babe?" with your eyebrows quirked playfully. His buddies nudge him and laugh, and as timid as he appears about it, he'll need you as soon as you're alone together, and he'll hold you extra close and pound into you a little harder than usual.

Claude:

- Alright. Claude is hot, and Claude knows he's hot, and he has no problem using this to his advantage. He'll absolutely send you gym selfies, or raunchy messages when he knows you're with friends or family. During minor disagreements or when you're pretending to be mad at him, he'll slip an arm around your waist and nibble at your ear, whispering, "C'mon babe, don't be like that..." before pulling you close and kissing you until you can't think straight.

- He absolutely doesn't care if people overhear you- in fact, he'll tease you about it, murmuring in your ear that you can't keep moaning for him like that or you'll be heard. But the fact that he's fucking into you harder and deeper as he says it tells you clearly that he wants you to cry out for him. In general, he's pretty shameless about your shared sex life if you allow him to be. He'll practically strut out of your room to clean up in just his boxers, not caring a bit if your roommates get an eyeful. He's handsy in public as well (again, depending on your comfort with it), and will absolutely grab a handful of your ass while you're on a date together, or trail his hand up your thigh during a movie.

- Claude is adventurous and open minded about sex in general, as I've mentioned a couple times. Hell, he'll even send you a porn clip or a bit of smut, along with a brief "we should try this ;)"- and he obviously loves when you do the same for him. He sees no reason to be shy with his partner about your mutual pleasure. Communicating your preferences will make sure you both enjoy yourselves, and the process of even talking about it can be pretty hot on its own.

[bonny-kookoo]

Good Girl [J.JK x Reader]🔞🌼

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, a lil angst

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, dom!jungkook, sub!Reader, size kink, oral (f & m rec.), mild dd/lg themes, praise kink, cumplay, reader is a virgin, jungkook is lowkey a hoe, a lil heartbreak, Taehyung makes an appearance, long haired jungkook, mentions of harrassment, jungkook punches a guy, strength kink

Jeon Jungkook was known to have a specific type when it came to his partners; tall, gorgeous, dominant and older. It's not like he's a true blood baby boy; he's just too lazy to put any effort into his flings. When a new girl answers to his ad online searching for a roommate for his apartment to share rent and space however, he didn't quite expect such an innocent being to turn up at his doorstep with a box full of pastel colored belongings, ready to move in. And what he definitely didn't expect was his growing interest in her and the feeling of having her under him, all submissive and ready to be ruined.

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl || Pretty Girl || Charming Girl || Enticing Girl || Bad Girl || ???

A wink was all he got from the woman who'd occupied his bed together with him last night as she walked out his bedroom door, seemingly knowing how to get out of his apartment. Jungkook ran his hand through his still sweaty hair, groaning after stretching his arms above his head, his mood seemingly sunkissed. He just finished an almost three hour sex-session after all; all without him providing any actual effort. His dick had seemed to be enough for her anyways, her face when she rode him happy, although he could really care less.

Reaching for his laptop near his bed, he didn't bother to put on any clothes for now, just wanting to check if he'd gotten any new E-Mails or messages, clicking through the casual nudes that constantly seemed to slip into his postbox. He cocked his head to the side however when he noticed that a website has notified him of an answer to his ad online; he'd put it up some time ago now after Taehyung, his former roommate, had to move out simply because Jungkook himself couldn't survive the older one's sleep shedule. Tae seemed to never sleep, waking the younger one up on a daily (and nightly) basis. He really tried to get along with him, both of them sharing a deep friendship, but god no, as a roommate he couldn't stand that guy. His rent however was something he struggled as well, so as much as he really wanted to live alone, he couldn't. He clicked the message on the website, his interest peaked.

"Hello. Is this AD still up to date? My name is Y/N, and I'm searching for a place because I'm starting to work close by soon, and its too expensive to take the bus for hours on end every day.. so uh, I don't know? I'm really good at cooking, and I promise I'll be so quiet and organized you won't even notice I'm there! I work at a restaurant nearby as a waitress- I mean, I'm going to, haha. Ugh, I hope you're okay sharing your apartment with a girl as well, I for my part don't have a problem with that! So, I guess, I'll wait for your reply?

Have a nice day!"

He scoffed a little, hovering over the delete button, but instead, he clicked her profile icon, opening the details. Her profile picture showed a white big dog, being hugged by what he assumed was her. He couldn't see her face however, half of her face above her nose cropped out to fit the entire dog instead. He could spot her clothes however; a top and skirt, flat shoes and sheer tights with white spots on them. His brows furrowed, how old was she? Her profile said she was about a year younger than him, every post she'd made up to this date about pet stuff, clothes who all seemed to follow a pastel-color scheme, and artwork you seemed to be selling. You were basically the definition of cute.

Fan-fucking-tastic. Hopefully you wouldn't be too upset when he denied your request, but somehow he thought it over. You said you could cook and you did seem like an organized person. Knowing what kind of effect he could have on people, he could probably scare the shit out of you and keep you around without really having to interact much; and rent was also due this month, so the sooner he found a roommate the better. "Fuck it." He said, and began to type his reply.

When his doorbell rang, he almost burned his hand with the hot water he currently used to make himself a cup of ramen, cursing loudly. Who the fuck wasn't home again so he had to take their package in? One day the old lady across the hall would find a dead rat or something in front of her door, he swore to himself. Ripping the door open with so much force he could feel a bit of wind gushing by, his eyes widened when he saw a similar face in front of him- well, a little below actually. He remembered your lips instantly for some awkward reason, having tried to maybe paint a picture of what you looked like entirely over the last few days. He would've never expected something like this however- you looked like a literal doll in his opinion, your eyes wide open and mouth a little parted, shiny lipgloss making him swallow. Wait, did he really forget that you said you wanted to move in today?!

"I uh.. I'm- I'm Y/N, we- I- the ad..?" You said, your voice sounding nothing like the woman he usually was around. He smirked a little, moving so you could step inside, food now definitely forgotten on the kitchen counter. He really should've at least cleaned up a little he thought. Whatever.

"Yeah, figured. There you go, thats your room. The keys and shit are on the matress, make sure you don't loose 'em." He simply said, before leaving you alone in your new home to settle down.

"What I'm trying to say is, Y/N, you and I, this could really be something!" Taehyung slurred into your ear, loud enough for Jungkook to hear. For some reason it pissed him off to no ends how close the older one seemed to be, constantly hitting on you like he was a starving man, even know half of town knew very well that he wasn't. He could see why; you were innocent, and Tae known to fool around a lot. You were a challenge, something new for him, and he would lie if he said that he wasn't interested as well. Oh he was; but he also had at least some manners left inside of him, contrary to popular belief not only thinking with his dick. Taehyung however was only out for fun, making Jungkook question if he should really let this continue.

He decided no.

"Alright you fucking whore, it's bedtime isn't it? I'll call you a cab." Taehyung groaned at the younger one's words, nodded his head however before looking at you with a smirk.

"Ah, what a shame. But if you wanna have some fun you know my number!" He said, as if he didn't just offer you sex. You blushed at this, not answering, making Jungkook watch you a bit. You really were something else. "Jungkookie, you're so nicee... If I was gay I would definitely suck your dick-" The younger in question made a disgusted yet amused face, putting a hand over the blue haired one's mouth.

"Yeah yeah, you pay me back though you fucker." He said, before going into the kitchen to make the call. Taehyung, being left alone with you again started with his questioning, as he had done the entire night.

"So, Y/N.." He said, dragging out the last syllable of your name playfully, making you shuffle around where you were sitting a bit. He certainly was a pretty attractive guy, but he also seemed to be very straightforward- something you always had struggled with, being more on the shy side. You looked at him, silently urging him to continue before taking a sip of your own beer- cherry flavored, simply because the regular was too bitter in your opinion. "What kind of toys do you use, heh?" He questioned, and you coughed suddenly. Taehyung laughed loudly at that, cooing when you calmed down slowly.

"Taehyung, stop harassing my roommate you fucking idiot. I need her to pay half of the rent-" He said, before sitting down next to you, raising one of his eyebrows at you. "And she also makes some killer lasagna. Kinda wanna keep that." He said, before laughing a bit. Even though Jungkook seemed to be pretty intimidating to you, he was actually a pretty good guy to have around. You both barely ever fought, and overall you could almost see yourself falling for him too- he had the looks after all. But his habit of bringing people over just to satisfy himself was something that made you keep some distance between you both. He wasn't someone to settle down- let alone with someone like you. You were pretty much the exact opposite of what he seemed to like.

Sending Tae home was easier than you both thought. Not being able to go to bed you both decided to watch some late night shows while casually talking- something that wasn't uncommon between you two. Just when you seemed to have gotten comfortable again, Jungkook couldn't help but tease you again.

"So, what Toys do you use, heh?" He said, laughing with his head thrown back afterwards at your red face. This would certainly never get old in his opinion. Just as he was about to apologize and tell you you didn't have to answer, your voice was heard, however.

"None." You said, and his eyes widened at that. "What? Do I look like I do these things to you?" You asked, and he cocked his head to the side a bit, scanning you obviously. He shrugged, and you began to pout, moving to wrap your pastel pink blanket around yourself. "I don't even know how to buy one. That stuff is just.. don't know. Gross." You said, and Jungkook turned on the couch, body facing you now, his interest sparked.

"Gross? So you never had sex before?" He said, and you went silent. Were you serious right now? You were an angel in his eyes, body proportions almost perfect, hell, even your slight imperfections were adorable in his eyes. Up until now he had been sure that you at least have had your fair share of experience, but a virgin? His world was suddenly turned upside down. "Well.. that's something I didn't expect." He said, making you raise your eyebrows at him. "You're hot. Thats why. Oh well." He said, missing the way your eyes widened at that. "I'm gonna go to bed now. Goodnight." He simply said, and you answered with a short 'goodnight' as well- still a bit surprised by his statement. Jungkook thought.. you were attractive?

He'd somehow gotten used to you, how you would leave your pastel pink but admittedly really soft blanket in a pile on one edge of the couch in the living room, how you sometimes left your toothbrush in the sink when you'd been in a hurry, or how you would hum to a song, not knowing he could hear you very clearly. Maybe he really did go soft after living with you for a while. He still didn't know himself why he got so upset with Taehyung the day prior; was he really being selfish? He was protecting you, nothing more. Taehyung was everything but a gentle lover, jungkook just knew he'd break you for sure, not to mention that you already stated how much you despised one night stands, which were practically Taehyungs speciality. He was just looking after you, nothing more.

The more he thought about it however, the more problematic the entire plan became.

But even now, while the young woman whose name he had already forgotten was giving it her all sucking his dick, all that seemed to swim around in his head were the events of the previous evening; how innocent and embarrassed you looked at him when you told him you'd never bought, let alone use a toy before. Surely you'd be someone to enjoy a good vibrator he thought, maybe as a gag he could buy you one? Oh how enchanting you'd look, spread out on his mattress while he would edge you over and over until you'd be crying, begging for his mercy. He would praise you for taking it so well, for being so good for him and only him, and he just knew you would blush. Instead of rushing to his own satisfaction, he would go slow, agonizingly slow, just to see how far he could push you. He would feast on you like a predator on his prey, pull you close so you had no chance of escaping him, he would trace every curve of your skin, gently, as if to make up for the bruises and Mark's he would surely leave all over you to feed his inner need to claim you, even though he would never let anyone see you like this while he was alive and breathing anyways. He just knew you would fit perfectly underneath him, his body covering you and shielding you away from the world around. Would you be able to take all of him? He probably would have to stretch you real good before even thinking about pushing his dick inside you, yet he just knows you would somehow make him proud and take it all, and he would continue his praises, telling you what a good girl you are.

He almost laughed at the situation, he really was in deep, wasn't he? Frustrated and confused he started to picture someone else entirely kneeled between his legs on the floor, how you'd bat your eyelashes at him like the fucking angel you were instead of the girl currently there, and that thought alone gave him the final push to shoot his load down the strangers throat, who moaned obscenely at the feeling. Usually he would be aroused, ready for more, but the sound of someone who wasn't his little roommate ripped him out of his daydream. This couldn't go on like that. Sending the lady out without many words, he decided that he just needed to fuck you, and all would be good again. He was just curious. Nothing else. He just needed to satiate his hunger and he could go back to normal.

How would he be able to do this without ending up hurting you? No matter how big his hunger for you was, he also considered you somewhat of a friend. He remembered when you came home crying one time after a bad day at work, and how he wanted to hold you, shielding you from any harm, making you feel safe. Because that's what he, and only he could do in his opinion. No matter what, he'd protect you, as weird as that sounded. Shit.

He really had a crush on you.

Unknowing to him you always held your hands over your ears whenever he brought home a different girl, not being able to listen to his moans mixed with someone else's. You were slowly beginning to regret moving in, already starting to think about maybe searching for a different apartment. But the rent was cheap, your room big, and his company relaxing when he wasn't busy being buried in someone he couldn't even remember after a day or two. Somehow tears were leaking out of your eyes, and you took your hands down from the sides of your head to wipe them away, careful to be as silent as possible as to not alert him that you were awake, well aware of the shower turning on. You did notice however how his sessions became shorter and shorter, always seeming to end sudden instead of usual. But the more you thought of it, the more angry at yourself for falling for this manwhore you became. You really should hate him- but you couldn't.

Tonight was definetely the prime example of why you didn't go into clubs. The sheer amount of people around you, the smell of sweat and cheap cologne and perfume all around made you feel like a headache was inevitable. Why were you here again? Oh yes. You followed Taehyungs advice and 'tried to make friends' instad of looming around your apartment all day. But right now you just really wished you stayed home instead of going here.

Sure, you liked your coworkers, and they seemed nice and everything, but if you were being honest, they're definition of fun was entirely not yours. You began to feel cramped up in the large club, making you desperately pull your phone out of your pocket, texting Jungkook in hopes he could save you from this god forsaken torment they called a club.

  Minutes later, after Jungkook oh so gentlemanly told you to pick you up, you stood in front of that said location, waiting for his cheap but admittedly nice car to pull up. Sadly, someone else seemed to be way more intent on bringing you home- a young man your age, attractive, yes, but also heavily intoxicated. He had already eyed you up inside the building you noticed, yet hadn't made a move towards you. Now however, he seemed more determined than ever.

"Lets go home baby, I swear you won't regret-" He started, but you moved away from him, clenching onto your little handbag in order to at least keep your belongings safe if he tried anything else. Suddenly both your figures were drowned in the warm light of Jungkook's car lights- you immediately recognized them simply by the fact that one was brighter than the other, something you always told him, yet he always waved you off, telling you that both were doing just fine, even though his left light was clearly almost dead. Typical him, you thought. Yet right now, you couldn't be happier to see him.

He however, did not seem happy at all. His face was serious, his wavy hair hanging a little over his eyes, steps fast and strong enough that you could hear his black boots almost crush the slight gravel of the parking lot. "Fuck off sunnyboy and go back inside." He simply yelled out, having already seen how uncomfortable you were with the stranger so close to you. Jungkook wasn't someone to blindly punch someone, that said however, he couldn't contain himself once he saw the guy reaching out for your arm, your figure instinctively scrambling to get behind Jungkooks way larger body. He didn't even notice his fist connecting with the strangers face, simply leading you by the small of your back inside his car, driving home without any more words.

You were not to be touched by someone so dirty like this young man who didn't even knew his own limits it seemed.

Yet you were completely confused now. Maybe, if you were now the reason he got into physical fights, you should make a decision.

The next morning, sitting down at the kitchen table, you watched Jungkook filling your bowl with cereal as well- lucky charms for you, and chocolate chips for him. It became somewhat of a routine since you both woke up roughly around the same time, sharing breakfast was common. The best moment in your opinion to pop the bomb.

"I'm moving out." You said softly, fiddling with your fingers in your lap, leg nervously bouncing up and down. Why did this feel like you were breaking up with him? You both would've ended up going separate ways sooner or later anyways- so he would probably just nod, ask when, and that would be it. He was someone who didn't bother much. But the second you said it, he turned around completely shocked, suddenly very much awake.

"Why? Did I do something?" He asked, sounding genuinely offended for some reason you couldn't come up with. In his mind, scenario over scenario started to play, as if he wanted to search for something he may have said or done to make you so upset that you didn't want to live with him anymore. He knew he shouldn't be so upset over it, since you and him were merely roommates, friends who shared an apartment, nothing more, but he never really expected you to come up with it so sudden. Or maybe you had a boyfriend? What if it was Taehyung, and you just didn't tell him? He would rip that fucker's stupid blue hair out, he knew-

"No. I- not reall-" You sighed, setting your elbows on the kitchen table before letting your head fall into your hands. "Actually yes, you did." You started, looking at him, but unable to hold eye contact with the now completely confused curly haired boy in front of you. "You.. uh.. I cant sleep. Your, 'guests', the walls aren't really soundproof and like, I really- and just.. ugh this is so awkward, please don't make me say it-" You said, groaning the rest of your sentence before stubbornly shoving your back against the chair, throwing your legs back and forth viciously, reminding Jungkook of a kid who was close to throwing a tantrum. Even though this was definitely not the time to think about you laid out over his leg, his hand hitting your perfectly shaped butt until it was red just to punish you for being such a brat, exactly this picture began to form in the back of his head. He hated himself somehow, really. But somehow instead of accepting your decision, he moved to stand at the table, hands on top of it, eyes searching yours.

"Say it Y/N. You know I hate when I have to pull thing out your throat sweetheart." He didn't intend on using the nickname, but somehow he threw his hesitation out the window. If you really were fooling around with someone, someone who wasn't him he wanted to know- and even if you didn't share that information with him, you would move out anyways, so why hold back anymore? You shook your head at him, avoiding his gaze, and he clicked his tongue, patience slowly thinning out. "Spit it out." He said again, but he still got no reaction. His hand seemed to move without his consent when he suddenly found his fingers on your chin, moving your head to force your attention towards him. "Speak the fuck up, I swear to god." He said, voice dropping down lower, and somehow you seemed as if bewitched.

Maybe it was the way he stood there, how he still held your chin, or how intensely he looked at you, but words dropped out of your mouth as if you drank harry potters truth potion. "I cant stand that you let these girls touch you, that they can get you so easily and you just look past me a- and I really tried you know, because Taehyung said you liked mature girls more so I tried to do that, but he lied to me, you don't notice me at all, you're so mean you-" He shut your mouth with his mouth, trying to process the information he just received, yet it seemed like it was too much at once. You were.. jealous? And what kind of stupid advice was Taehyung giving away, that fucker? It was true that he liked his women to be confident and mature, but that was just so they knew what they were doing, and he didn't need to put so much effort into something he could get so easily.

"So you were jealous?" He said, a small smirk creeping up on him, cooing at you internally when you shook your head, face red. "If you wanted me to fuck you, you could've just asked. Geez." He said, but instead of being relieved, your shoulders sagged down. "What?" He asked, and you mumbled to him.

"Because I don't want just that one time stuff you do." Jungkook looked at you, eyes softening at your somehow-confession. He just put together the pieces in his head, and it did make sense. You were practically attached to him wherever he took you, always seemingly glowing whenever his attention was on you. He was as much as a dense head than you were, and he couldn't help but pull out a chair and sitting down, patting his legs as an invitation.

"Good, because I don't want that either. And I don't share either." He said, and looked at you gently, but with a deep darkness behind his eyes. "Trust me baby, you can sit down now and I promise you'll be the only one to have me- or you can move out and go on with your life." He almost laughed at the way it suddenly clicked in your head on what he was offering, suddenly jumping up and sitting on his thighs, legs on either side of his body. He looked down at you, a divine picture coming to life. His hands were placed on the exposed skin under your skirt, slowly sliding over the soft skin until his fingers felt the seam of your tights- those goddamn things he'd wanted to rip off of you so badly these past days. "You can touch me, you know?" He said lowly, and you noticed how awkward you must've looked for a second, seated on his lap with your hands in front of you, unsure where to put them. Just to ground yourself, your fingers began to play with his shirt, and he had to swallow the laugh that wanted to break free. "You don't have to do this, you know? I'm fine with waiting-" He began, but you immediately shook your head, however, at loss for words. He smiled again, dangerously so you noticed. His head dipped down, finally touching your skin on your neck with his lips, leaving open mouthed kisses under your earlobe down to the crook, hands moving over your clothes already mapping out your body in his mind, one hand pulling down one side of your soft fleece jacket you wore, pulling down your shirt as well, so he could softly nip at your shoulder, making you gasp oh so cutely at his actions. His hands didn't stop however, moving over your chest, kneading both of your breasts softly, as if he would hurt you if he used too much strength- which was probably the case. He already loved how bis his hands looked running over your body, how your hands held his shirt in fists, eyes closed, yet not because of fear; you looked serene to him, face showing him the soft pleasure you felt. He suddenly moved you a little, making you straddle one of his leg, core pushed against his thigh. "Let's start slow, yeah?" He asked, whispering words into your ear, lips never parting from you. He slowly began to move your hips, urging you to simply follow what you thought felt best to you. "Use me baby. Get off on my thigh." You whined at that, slowly starting to move more and more boldly, and he decided that he was officially a goner. Even if you didn't want him after whatever may be happening, he knew he could never go back. The way you squeezed your eyes shut every now and then, moving back and forth yet always a bit helpless, showing how inexperienced you were. He could feel the wet patch forming on his jeans, his hands moving you a bit faster, before you let your head fall onto his shoulder, making him chuckle. "What is it baby? Do you need help, hm?" He said, a bit mockingly even, and you nodded into his shoulder. "Tell me what you need then. What do you want, princess?" He said, running his hands over your back, feeling your bodyheat through your clothes.

"wanna get the same.. as the others.." You mumbled, unsure what you were even asking for. Jungkook however simply smiled, suddenly lifting you up, hands under your behind carrying you to his room, before finally letting you fall onto his mattress, laughing when your body jumped a little, making you squeak so cutely. He smiled, crawling over you, his fantasy finally coming to life- you looked so lost under him, so utterly defenseless he could swear he could feel something primal awake inside him- and that was not his dick, which already strained against his jeans, impatient.

"Ah but Baby.." He began, taking off your soft jacket before his hands traced your bare arms until he moved them under your shirt, feeling your skin underneath his fingers. "You're my special girl.." He began to lift your shirt up, helping you out of it before he got rid of your skirt as well, chuckling at your cute lacey underwear, which was so typically you. So innocent, yet so arousing, how you squirmed underneath him in nothing but those pastel colored undergarments. "And special girls get special treatments.." His words were low, soft spoken yet with a rough edge to his tone, a natural feature of his voice that you've come to love. You couldn't even begin to paint out a picture of what he was talking about- sure, you have seen your fair share of adult films, you weren't a kid after all- but up until this moment, up until you met Jungkook, you've never really thought about what you could like when it came to these things. Even in your thoughts you felt shy saying any profanities out loud, how could you expect to know about kinks? "But only if you can behave for me, but you can do that right?" He said, unhooking your bra behind your back with ease and interrupting your inner talk with yourself. "You'll be my good girl, yeah?" He said, and you just viciously nodded, already growing frustrated, and oh how he loved it. This was how he had pictured you. If he had known before that this was what it felt like to have control over someone, he would've never done anything else if he was honest; but then again, you really were a special girl to him. The way you suddenly mewled when his hand cupped your heat, giving you a little pressure just to tease you even further almost caught him off guard. God have mercy on his soul, you were so sensitive to him, and it dawned on him again that he was making you this way. He was the first to- and he would make sure he'd be the only one as well. All those noises tumbling out of between your lips were only his to hear. His breathing peaked up at the view he had, how you began to impatiently rut into his hand, needy for more than he was giving you. He leaned back, finally getting rid of his own clothes as well to your satisfaction, lazily throwing his opened flannel as well as his white shirt somewhere on the floor in his room, and you couldn't help but stare. Truth be told, you didn't really know what to expect of him if you were honest, his constant gym visits giving you the impression that he had to be extremely fit, yet his habit of consuming more than two cups of ramen easily spoke differently. He was, in your eyes, the perfect in-between- he definetely was fit, his abs visible to your eyes, yet he didn't look like those over-achievers you sometimes saw walking around the same gym whenever you met him there to go home together. The way his muscles flexed at every move when he loomed over you again made you want to touch him, yet your shy side forbade you. He chuckled again. "You can touch what's yours all you want, you know?" He said, before he began to place his hand back onto your chest, his breath hot on your collarbone where he placed his kisses again, already hooked on your taste. His other, tattooed hand found its way back to your core, feeling the dampness there with amusement. You were more than what he'd imagined. Slowly he got rid of that barrier however, leaving your tights on for his own pleasure and maybe also for the aesthetic of it, his digits circling around your sensitive bud, making you squeal again, putting your hands over your mouth to keep your voice down. He clicked his tongue at this, moving them to lay right under the small of your back. "Be good and keep them there, yeah?" He said, and you looked away.

"But its- thats emb-" You couldn't even finish the beginning of your rant before he went back to his task at hand, sitting back before moving your legs to spread obscenely over his thighs simply to catch a glimpse of your glistening center, before he placed his body over yours again, hand now roughly circling in delicious eights around your clit, making you gasp out.

"Nothing you do is embarrassing, you hear me. If anything its fucking hot how you can be so fucking adorable even with my hand between your legs, doll." He said, before dipping a finger into you, making you move a bit at the foreign feeling. "Gotta stretch you out babygirl.." He said lowly, careful not to get too fast. His second finger joined in, and he could feel how tight you were around them, already clenching a bit as well, making his mouth water, but also growing a bit of worry in the back of his mind. Usually he was quite cocky about his overly average qualities down in his pants, but now he was genuinely concerned to hurt you with it. This was definitely a first for him. "Baby you're so small.. I don't think you can take it.." He said, a bit of a teasing undertone to his words as well. "See? You're already squeezing my fingers so hard princess, how could my dick ever fit inside huh?" He said, contrary to his otherwise rough nature keeping his movements gentle and slow enough for you to adjust without causing much pain. He could see the slight discomfort in your eyes, yet you suddenly shook your head, voice whiny.

"Uh-uh.." You mumbled, and he laughed a bit at that. "can take it.." You said bratty as ever, feeding his ego to no ends. "Wanna have it- you.. you gon' give it right? 'm good.." You said, having troubles keeping your hands under your back just like he told you to, grabbing the sheets underneath you instead to have something to keep yourself grounded.

Jungkook couldn't stop smiling. You didn't even know what you were asking for, yet you seemed so drowned in trust with him, that you simply gave him the right to do anything he wanted with you. "You sure?" He said, and smiled at the way you nodded again with your eyes closed. He moved away after that, shedding his pants before he walked over to his bedside table, fishing out a condom, before moving back to you, your eyes now on him, or more than that, on his very apparent bulge his boxers failed to conceal. Maybe you really did ask for more than you could take. Quite literally. Sensing your growing uneasiness he simply discarded his underwear, cock finally springing free, slapping soundlessly against his abdomen before he sat between your legs again. You made grabby hands for the foil package in his hands, somehow wanting to slip it onto him, yet he shook his head amused. "Nuh-uh baby. I'm afraid if you touch me right now I'll just embarrass myself and come straight away." He said, and you giggled at that. The sound of it brought him back at ease, his little joke having helped to calm you down at least a little bit. He knew this was a big thing, especially for someone like you- and it made him feel even a bit pressured if he was honest. He was slow when he dipped his head inside, your body instinctively trying to move away a bit, but you forced yourself to stay still, eyes now pressed close. Moving around a bit he kept one hand around the base of himself, the other steadying himself next to your shoulder, kissing you on your lips for the first time since you both started, surprising you enough to not notice how he somehow began to glide into you with the help of your arousal and the lubricant of the condom around him. He groaned, the first actual noise he'd made you could tie to his pleasure, and your breathing picked up once you noticed how full you felt. Gasping several times he suddenly started to laugh, making you giggle as well, even though you didn't knew what was so funny in that situation. "God- ugh.. your- fuck you're tight.." He pressed out, fighting hard against his hips' own mind yelling at him to move, to wreck you, to utterly ruin you. But he couldn't allow himself to do that- reassuring himself that he would have time for that at a later date. He slowly started to move around after he calmed down enough, keeping his speed down to keep it gentle for you. "I- fuck.." He started, having to talk to stretch his patience out, and to also ease your mild pain a little bit. "Let's- ugh.. Let's go on a date tomorrow, yeah? I.. god-" He said, and you nodded, moaning in your delicate pitch he oh so loved. "Gonna be all romantic and shit- fuck- gonna treat you like- for Mcdonald's or some shit." He said, making you both laugh between gasps of pleasure, your hands suddenly frantically moving around the sheets, legs shaking as he began to speed up his pace. You didn't knew what an orgasm would feel like, or how you knew you would have one, but you gasped, chocking on unshed tears in frustration as you noticed that you couldn't tumble over that delicious edge, and Jungkook noticed, cooing at you. "Ah, my baby can't come without her little clit being touched?" He said, kissing the side of your neck, biting the skin teasingly before sucking a hickey on your collarbone, his hands now grabbing yours, fingers intertwining with his, before moving them around his neck, sensing how you wanted to be closer to him, even though that hardly seemed possible. "Come for me baby, you can do it." He said, kissing your shoulder as if to make up for his mark he'd left, his hand now reaching between your bodies, only needing to put a bit of pressure on your little nub to send you flying. You moaned out loud, uncaring on how you sounded, clinging onto him for dear life, his own release making him groan out as well.

He could feel your body trembling, your breathing still fast. He waited for a moment or two for himself to soften up so he could pull out gently- your still slightly clenching hole almost pushing his dick out of yourself. You whined at the empty feeling, and he hushed you gently, moving around so he was sitting up against his headboard, your body on his lap, head on his shoulder. His hand moved back and forth over your spine, the other keeping your body steadily against him. "You did so, so good baby." He gently whispered between your breaths still coming out a little faster than they should. "To be honest I actually was kind of worried you wouldn't be able to take it. I'm impressed princess." He said, making you giggle. You still weren't quite back yet, still bathing in your own afterglow, and he simply waited for you to calm down- slowly becoming aware of your surroundings again.

"Hey, Jungkookie.." You started with that nickname Taehyung always teased him with, yet you would get away with it anytime on his watch. He simply moved his head to look at you, even if you weren't at him. "Did you.. like, mean it? Are we.. a couple now, or?" You started a bit too softly, yet you didn't have to be scared of his answer to that.

He took a deep breath, before yawning a bit. "If you want us to be. I know I want to." He started, brushing some hair away from your eyes. You looked at him, big eyes so innocent like he didn't just fuck you into his mattress literally minutes ago.

"I want to!" You immediately said, making him chuckle and place a kiss on your nose, receiving a giggle at that, before you tensed up. He raised his eyebrows at that, before you looked at him surprised. "My legs are all- tingly.. Jungkook did you break me- HEY don't laugh!" You said, but he couldn't help himself.

He threw his head back, laughing his admittedly cute open laugh, before wrapping his arms around your body. "God I love you." He simply said, making you smile.

"Hey Jungkookie?" You said after a bit.

"Yeah Princess?" He answered.

"That McDonald's date still stands, right?" You said with a small voice, making him snort.

"Anything you want princess. Anything you want."

Taglist:

@mrcleanheichou @sugasbratz @sassysaxsolo @bananagukkie @wh3resangel @urmomgee

[hansolmates]

jjk; off-league

summary; you decide to do a little boudoir photoshoot for yourself—a little sexy lingerie, some bunny ears, maybe even a little nudity to make you feel more body positive about yourself. that little photoshoot doesn’t end up being for yourself anymore when you accidentally send those sexy pictures to your stupidly hot, stupidly talented childhood friend who you haven’t spoken to since middle school graduation.  pairing; photographer!jk x fem!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers!au, flangst, mutual pining, feelings of insecurity and body image, suggestive language, nudity  w.c; 6.2k a/n: i was feeling a lil meh about this fic after finishing it but a month later it finally makes its debut! for @btsghostiewritersnet​ BGW Bingo Bash! today’s trope is “childhood friends to lovers” which surprisingly isn’t a favorite of mine so it was definitely a challenge to write! 

“C’mon, I need your opinion. Deadass. Don’t just say shit to make me feel better.” 

“Gimmie those nudes, baby girl,” Johnny makes an impeccable fuckboy impersonation, making you feel a little squirmy to your stomach. 

It’s an hour away from being the ass-crack’o-dawn and your impromptu pin-up photoshoot just needs the sexy-star-of-approval from your best friend. Johnny Suh is also up for reasons unmentioned, but you had a feeling his pretty boyfriend is fifty percent of the reason. 

You look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your frame against the black bodice of the sheer teddy. The only parts that are fully concealed are the parts that don’t matter. The sheer bodice reveals your pert nipples concealed by a thin black mesh, coupled with the deep V in the sweetheart neckline, accented by a little black bow in the dive of your highlighted cleavage. The silky a-line raceways to a set of black garters hugging your thighs, barely hanging onto a pair of lace thigh-highs. 

It doesn’t leave you butt naked, but enough to make you feel confident about yourself. These pictures are for you, and Johnny. And Johnny’s boyfriend if he’s being nosy. 

You tug off the silk bunny ears from your head, flinging it somewhere in your room. The wire started to dig in your brain, giving you a major headache. 

“Sending them now,” you hang up and start compiling the pictures in a folder on Google Drive. Once that’s done you copy the shareable link, sending it to Johnny’s number. It happens all so fast, and you feel kind of giddy. As you were posing for the camera, taking your time to find all the right angles, you felt good, you felt sexy in your little get up. Channeling your inner Ariana Grande was one of your childhood dreams, your fifteen year old self would be proud. 

Five minutes pass, fifteen, and by the twenty-five minute mark you’re pissed. What’s taking Johnny so long? 

Makeup scrubbed clean and face bare, you shuffle in your duvet, far too tired to be waiting up this long. Punching in his number once more, you cry, “Hey! Why haven’t you looked at them yet?” 

“What?” your friend’s voice sounds pebbly through the line. Was Johnny sleeping? “You never sent them!” he whines tiredly. 

“No, I definitely sent them!” you pull the phone away and keep Johnny on call, ready to prove him wrong. 

But to your surprise, the last message you sent to Johnny was this afternoon. 

The most recent message is to a person named John Kook. 

You scream. 

Johnny screams back at you with an equal amount of force, “What the fuck? Did someone break in? Are you being mobbed? See, this is why I wanted to put the baby monitor in your room—” 

“Worse!” you’re well prepared for any break in, but not for this. “I sent my pics to the wrong John!” 

“Well… is he at least cute?” 

“I mean, in the fourth grade he looked pretty cute with that front tooth missing,” you find your output of frustration, your bunny plush, pulling it by the ear and hitting it against the bed. “His name isn’t even John! It was just his English name for a silly project we did in middle school. This is so embarrassing, all I can picture is a twelve-year-old Jungkook mortified from sexual harassment. I basically sent him nudes!” 

“Tasteful nudes.” 

“I’m gonna die.” 

“He’s gonna die, of happiness.” 

Jeon Jungkook was a classmate from elementary through middle school. Time and time again was he the object of your affections, from the first grade at the roller rink to the speech he made at graduation. But really, who cares? You’re old and have a job, and it’s not like you’ve communicated with any of your former classmates. 

Your horror amplifies when the Delivered receipt is changed to Read 3:41AM. 

“Fuck! Fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget he saw it!” you cry, “does he still have my number? What if he deleted my contact, would that be even weirder?” 

“Girl, stop.” Johnny sighs, and you can already picture him running his thumb between his brows. “This doesn’t change anything, alright? You two don’t know each other anymore. Block his number and go to sleep.” 

Johnny leaves you alone after that, and you’re left alone to mull over the implications of sending Jeon Jungkook your nude photoshoot. 

You do block his number, knowing that waiting for a reply would drive you nuts. The one thing that you do which is possibly worse, is look him up on Instagram. 

Of course, he’s stupid hot. 

He doesn’t seem to like being on the receiving end of the camera however, in favor of his timeline being filled with romantic shots of the beach and city. In between the picturesque views and watercolor sunsets do you see glimpses of him and his current life. You can’t help but smile when you see him with his brother and parents during his college graduation, easily towering over all of them. He looks tall with fluffy cocoa hair, big pearly whites gleaming proudly at the camera. He grew up well. 

To torture yourself even more, you even look through his story. Twelve hours ago, he was at the gym lifting weights. Normally, you’d be disgusted by people trying to show off their grunt faces drenched in sweat, but of course Jungkook has to have on a silly smile and pump his fist up after he deadlifts. The sweat clinging to his shirt is also a high plus. His gorgeous display of abs has your hands fluttering over your own belly. Maybe you need to exercise more. 

Four hours ago, you see him and a pretty woman with their cheeks squished together, using the puppy filter. Of course he has a girlfriend. 

Reluctant, you open up your Google Drive and scroll through your photoshoot. Deflated, you frown at the pictures that once made you beam with pride, picking at every little detail that bothered you. You really can’t believe you sent these to Jeon Jungkook, no longer a fourth grader with one front tooth, but a man way out of your league. 

By the time you will yourself to sleep, the sun peeks from the horizon, telling you to move on. 

“Hey Gyu,” you tiptoe over to the table much too small for Mingyu’s frame. The string bean is slumped over his iPad pro, drawing intently at some chibi OCs. “Got a plot for that one?” you ask, pointing at the little pink and blue creature decorating the screen. 

Mingyu grunts in reply, obviously engrossed. It isn’t until you slide him a matcha frappe from Starbucks that he becomes intelligible, muttering a “thank you” as he blends with his pen. 

Sensing that it’s going to be awhile before you get through to him, you take your usual rounds around the front desk and lobby of the cosy photo studio. There’s pretty pictures of Mingyu’s work, along with the other employees Minghao and Hoseok. Each section of the wall features a different taste of each person’s interest. Mingyu is a divine lover of soft bed sheets and hot tea, many of his photographs and paintings featuring cafes or perfectly messy beds you’ve seen on hotel advertisements. Minghao is a tasteful artisan, splotches of color retaliating against neutral backgrounds. Finally, Hoseok manages to find balance in the people, large cityscapes telling both large and small stories.

“Alright,” Mingyu’s deep voice forces you to curl your head, where he’s sipping at his drink with haste. “What’cha here for?” 

You frown, “Don’t you remember? I told you last week I’d be stopping by to get my photos developed,” you gesture to the Pentax in your hands, an heirloom from your great-aunt. While you did take digital photos for sending them to Johnny, the ones you wanted developed were taken side-by-side with the film camera. You figured that film would give a little more authenticity to your photoshoot. 

“Shit, that’s today?” the camera falls like deadweight, slapping against your sweater as you watch Mingyu frantically look through his digital calendar. He looks at you, dejected. “How many prints?” 

“I don’t know, maybe like six. Or eight?” 

“That’s gonna take too long, I’m heading down to Hidden Grounds for a vision meeting at two.” 

“Alright, I’m free all day. What about after?”

“Nah, you came all this way. I can just let the new guy help you.” and Mingyu makes a show of cupping his hands in the direction of the open hallway, “Yah, Jeon Jungkook! Get your cute ass out here!” 

The Pentax around your neck suddenly feels like weight akin to a two-ton boulder, and you surge forward, not caring that the corner of the table is digging into your belly. “Mingyu,” you garble, and Mingyu is shell-shocked by the desperation in your eyes. “Isn’t Minghao around or something? Or I can come back another time? These photos are really personal and I don’t feel comfortable having a stranger see them.”

“What? We’re professionals, don’t belittle us.” 

“No, seriously,” you whine, you tug at the collar of his denim jacket, noses practically touching. “These pictures are different. My tits are out and my legs are spread—”

“—interrupting something?” 

You hear some shuffling, and you turn around to see Jeon Jungkook’s back, comically turned to face the entrance. 

And damn, he did have a cute ass. Nothing is going to hide the glory in those jeans, absolutely nothing. 

“Hilarious,” Mingyu drawls, and you push him away. “Forget it, Kook. She doesn’t feel comfortable letting a stranger develop her photos.” 

Sensing that it’s safe to turn around, you watch as his black bangs flutter as he faces you. You hope your body language doesn’t betray how you’re really feeling, because you are a mere mortal and you’re weak in the presence of god-like figures. 

“Oh, what a relief then,” he smiles at you, and his voice sounds like honey. If there was malice or surprise in his tone, his good-natured expression betrays it. “Because I’ve known this friend since elementary school. We go way back.” 

You ignore the burn in the back of your head, as you are positive Mingyu knows you’re hiding something. 

“Really, what a coincidence.” Mingyu replies carefully, and you feel utterly stuck between these men and their banter, locked up like cream in an Oreo cookie. 

Nothing argues against Jungkook as he easily weaves through the thick wave of awkwardness, hands reaching out to touch your camera. “Wow,” he marvels, holding the object in his hands, “my dad has one of these.” 

“A-ha,” you take a step back, only to bump into the corner of the table, again. Ouch. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’m actually busy today so I can come when Mingyu’s free–”

“Oh, I thought you were free all day,” Mingyu drawls, looking up through his lashes as he sips languidly at his drink. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook says good-naturedly, as if Mingyu just didn’t out you. “We got a lot of catching up to do anyway, c’mon.” 

Jungkook moves to place a hand in the small of your back and that’s enough to get you to rev up. Refusing to let any contact get between the two of you, you zip ahead down the familiar hallway, turning your head to catch Mingyu grinning with all canines, shooing you with his fingers like a puppy. 

You send Mingyu a stream of “fuck yous” into his inbox for later, unwilling to settle with this curse. Busying yourself with your phone, you avoid eye contact with Jungkook until you reach the dark room. The red light turned off at the top of the doorhenge signals that the room is not in use. Jungkook makes a move to open the door and that’s when you pounce, blocking the doorway with your small body. It’s comical, really. 

Jungkook raises a brow at you, but says nothing. 

“I really can wait, Jungkook,” you steel yourself, forcing a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t like you developing my pictures—”

It’s then that his pretty cupid’s bow unfurls into a full-fledged grin. “Girlfriend... you’ve been keeping tabs on me?” 

“Fuck, well I had to!” your face is as red as the dark room’s alert light, now on because Jungkook flicked the switch and he’s between your arm to unlock the door. Your hand brushes his as you both reach the knob. “I’m really really sorry I sent those pictures. They were for Johnny—you remember Johnny Suh from English class? And I saved you in my contacts as “John Kook” so it was an honest mess up.” 

Jungkook hums, so light that the breathiness in his chords flutters your grip on the knob. He forces the door ajar, and you’re left to follow him in the dark room, cluttered with solutions and fancy equipment. 

“Thought so,” Jungkook shrugged, giving a one-over at the materials in the room, mulling over his next steps in developing your film. 

You’re still petrified at the doorway, holding your Pentax between both hands like a lifeline. Jungkook’s head lols to you, and you get a pretty view of the way his bangs brush over his forehead, Adam’s Apple bobbing. His expression is a little tired, but overall unreadable. He sighs your name, lethargic. 

“We’re already here, so might as well get this done,” he gestures to the camera in your vice grip. “Do you wanna pick the shots or do you want me to?” 

He’s already seen the digitals, what’s so different about getting a couple prints? With a slight pout you drag your feet over to him, relinquishing your camera. “I’m thinking you have a better eye for this than I do.” 

“You think right.” 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Cocky, but what you’ve seen on Instagram definitely justifies his sentiment. Jungkook pays no mind to you, busying his hands with the various containers in front of him, measuring the solutions for the developer, stopper, and fixer. You were always entranced by the process of developing film, especially in highschool where their photography club holed themselves in the darkroom like a secret lair. 

“Alright,” he pops open the canister, carefully laying out sections of the film in groups of four. “Want me to pick a random one for a tester?” 

You frown, “At least put some thought into it.” 

“Always,” it looks like he already decided way before he popped the question, immediately taking a negative and placing it in the carrier. 

His fingers are nimble as he takes the time to clean off the dust and any debris that could potentially ruin the image. Then he turns off the lights and begins the process. You dive around him, trying to keep your distance but still too curious to leave his side. If he’s annoyed he fails to show it, in favor of humming whatever song comes from his Echo Dot. 

You always got the solos in choir. You wanted to reminisce, but you’re too nervous to say it out loud. 

Even though it’s his job and he’s being a professional, you romanticize the experience, watching as he carefully puts the print in each liquid process. Your image blooms to life, and you feel your stomach churn as the photo develops before your eyes. 

After a final dip in the solution stopper, he places the first product in a bath of water. Even though you are mere centimeters away, you can clearly see the image of you swimming around the container. 

“Alright!” Jungkook hangs the finished picture on a pastel pink clothespin, tacking it in place. “Whaddya think?” 

Your breath catches in your throat, feeling heavy as you look at the image of you reflected in the glossy paper. You’re perched on your bed, a hand splaying between your legs as the other hand toys with the silk bunny ears. You’re leaned slightly, giving an ample view of your cleavage. However, the image of you is definitely different from being blown up in comparison to the negatives, and you squirm uncomfortably at your full display. 

“I look,” you bite your tongue, internally debating whether you like it or not. Not to spare Jungkook the theatrics you shrug, “It’s good.”  

The lack of enthusiasm seems to dissatisfy Jungkook however, as he has to take a double take and look back and forth between the image and the real thing. “What’s wrong with it, do you think Johnny’ll not like it?” 

“What?” you furrow your brows, breaking into a nervous laugh. “Johnny has a boyfriend. I just wanted his opinion. This photoshoot is for me, y’know? Just something to make me feel good about myself.” 

Jungkook’s lips morph into a little ‘o’, and you see a little bit of the child you once knew in the way he’s mulling over the situation. 

“Then can I give you my honest opinion?” Jungkook clips off the half-dried photo, holding it between you two. “Stop thinking so hard about every little thing you don’t like about yourself. If I was your boyfriend and you gifted this to me, I’d be creaming my pants. You look fucking sexy, all grown up since you cried in the fourth grade.” 

You’ve just been flung a litany of words you have no brain capacity to digest. Along with that, the immense heat you didn’t know you’ve been suppressing surges to your belly, low and simmering. Jungkook stares at you in earnest, despite his sudden gush of honesty, you don’t know what to say. There’s a dash of pink staining his cheeks, betraying the confidence he previously displayed. He stiffens when you don’t reply immediately and moves to clean his materials, his sudden bout of bold honesty quickly shrinking. 

“Y-you know,” you look down at your feet, “the only reason why I cried in the fourth grade was because you told me Santa wasn’t real.” 

Jungkook softens, tilting his head. “Sorry about that.” 

“Thanks though,” you gently reach for the photo in Jungkook’s grasp, looking at it without contempt. “But won’t your girlfriend be upset if she knew you were saying things like this about someone else?” 

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, if you looked through the rest of my Instagram story,” Jungkooks cards a hand through his already mussed hair, splitting the ends. “You would see that she’s not my girlfriend, but my tattoo artist.” 

For added measure, he wiggles his fingers in front of you, revealing pretty ink and silver bands across his knuckles.

“Oh,” your voice is feather light, and you’re sure you’re drooling as you stare far too long at the letters that mark his hands, curious as to what they symbolize. 

“So, as a singleton telling another singleton,” he continues, “I know it’s meaningless if you don’t believe it yourself, but I’m telling you, you’re attractive.” 

“Thanks,” you hold the picture tightly in your grasp, eyes flickering to the negatives in the room ready to be galvanized into a full-fledged picture. “Why don’t we wrap this up, huh? We can continue another time.” 

If he notices how much the paper wilts in your grasp, he doesn’t comment on it. “Are you sure? I know it takes a lot of time, but I don’t mind.” 

“I’m sure,” you force a smile, one hand on the lightswitch. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready, okay?” 

Jungkook swallows, nodding mechanically. “Okay.” 

“It was really nice seeing you, Kook.” you blurt before you could chicken out, letting the room bask in darkness a little longer so he can’t see your flustered state. “I’m not even going to downplay it, you look great.” 

You half-expect a cocky remark, or a little chest pumping from the compliment. At the sound of his nickname however, 4th grade Jeon Jungkook resurfaces and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Like I said, so do you,” he replies easily, sending you a soft smile and opening the door for you. 

The door closes shut behind you and you exhale, patting your cheeks and willing for the chilly air to calm you down. 

When you get home that day, you shuck off all your clothes and crawl into bed. You cry out when the metal framing of your bunny ears stabs you in the back, and you fling it to some unmentionable part of the room. You reach for a bag of half-opened sour gummy worms, flipping open your MacBook to continue streaming the soft magical girl anime you’ve been hooked on these past few weeks. 

Not even Sailor Uranus can distract you; however, by the time it’s dark and you’ve run out of distractions, you finally pull the plug and unblock Jungkook from your list of contacts. 

Your phone buzzes, the incessant vibration relaying all the messages you’ve missed. 

[March 12th, 3:53AM]

You: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/0343…

John Kook: ??? 

John Kook: you probably sent this to me by accident… sorry i clicked on it

John Kook: is it weird if i said you’ve done a massive glow up since the middle school dance?

[March 12th, 12:02 PM]

John Kook: are u mad

John Kook: you’re mad

John Kook: am i makin this weird by continuing to text you

John Kook: im making it weird. 

[March 31st, 6:24 PM]

John Kook: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/049…

You tilt your head at the folder link, it was sent only a few hours ago. With a click, you’re enlightened to a set of digital photos. Your photos from your photoshoot, but not quite. They’ve been expertly edited, not too much to distort your looks, but only to enhance your features. A small, barely there smile creeps from your subconscious, ultimately touched by the gesture. 

John Kook: sorry if i pushed too hard today. 

Guilt overrides your nerves, prompting you to immediately press the call button on his contact. Not to your surprise, Jungkook’s light voice calls your name through the line after the second ring. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you blurt, forgoing the hellos. “It was the right amount of push, I feel better, really. If anything, I’m sorry. I blocked your number because I was scared to read your reaction.” 

You hear him sigh along the line, and you feel that breath ripple through your nerves, as if he’s right next to you. “It’s fine, I would’ve done the same thing.” 

“The pictures you just sent, they’re really beautiful. You did a good job.” 

“Thanks, I had a bit of help. I didn’t have to do much.” 

“Oh, did Mingyu come back from his meeting?” 

"No, I uh," Jungkook chuckles, and while you don't really know why, the sound is nonetheless pleasant. “It was mostly the lighting and coloring I fixed up. Didn’t need to do much since you already looked so pretty as it is.” 

You choke on your saliva. 

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you cough, “just choked on a snack I was eating.” he hums in reply, and you pray he doesn’t hear your stomach fervently retort that you haven’t eaten since lunch. “So, I think I’m up for developing more of the film. When can I drop by?” 

“I’m free Saturday,” Jungkook chirps, “I have a shoot until noon but you can come anytime after that.” 

“Sounds good, I’ll be there,” you clutch the phone with both hands. “I can bring lunch. What do you like to eat?” 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’m already buying for Minghao,” you lie, “do you like burgers?” 

“I can’t say no to a good burger,” Jungkook’s smile feels almost palpable against the line, “do you remember our field trip to the national museum of history? We had burgers on the street!” 

“Oh, those were so good,” you moan, fuzzy memories of a middle grade field trip resurfacing to clarity, “but you ate like, ten of them!”

“I still get nightmares,” he warns, “don’t let me go to bed like this.” 

You giggle, letting your body meld further into your warm mattress. “Maybe I’ll just show up with ten burgers for you tomorrow.” 

“I’ll throw up on you, try me.” 

Minghao’s adjusting the frames on their display wall by the centimeter, and it’s pissing him off. 

“Ah, it’s off,” he mutters to himself when you walk in, indicated by the electronic bell. He turns to you briefly, pulling a leveler out of his overall pocket. “Doesn’t this look off?” 

“Uh,” you look towards Mingyu at the front desk, who is paying no mind as he continues scribbling on his iPad. You tilt your head towards your former college classmate. “It doesn’t look off from over here?” 

Tacking the leveler on one of the frames, he whines, “It’s five degrees off.” 

Mingyu puts his pen down to reach over the counter and grab the paper from your hands, steaming with the scent of fast food, “He’s been like this for hours, don’t mind him.” 

He doesn’t even ask whether the food is his, Mingyu sees grease and he claims. Reaching for an oil-wrapped parchment, he unfolds the paper to reveal a handsome burger with all the fix-ens. 

Barely satisfied, Minghao steps away from the art display. There is a sizable gap in the display, now divided between four artists instead of three. You wonder how Jungkook’s work will look amongst the other artists. 

“Cute ‘fit.” Minghao mumbles, nodding approvingly at your clothes as he digs into the bag for his own burger. 

You send a half-smile his way. If an outfit is Minghao-approved, that means you’ve gone above and beyond. At least, you tried to play it off like you didn’t try to look cute. It’s not like you’re intimidated by Jungkook, living with a major fifteen-year glow up. After all, he’s already seen more than you can imagine. 

Mingyu takes notice, eyes going south to where your white blouse meets your cleavage. You hurl a fry at his face, “Eyes up here, perv.” 

He scrunches his nose, lifting a greasy thumb to slide a manila envelope over to you. “Here’s the developed pictures. Intercepted Kook and I finished them this morning.” 

You frown, “Jungkook’s not done with his photoshoot yet?” 

“Oh, he’s been done.” Mingyu’s eyes roll back to one of the studios. “But I’m saying is, you got what you needed. So you can leave if you want,” but he grins at you, canines so sharp you feel his stare jabbing you in the proverbial neck. “Unlesssss you want to go in and say hi.” 

If he has any inkling of what’s going on in your head, it’s definitely confirmed when your face turns hot. Damn body, you’re betraying me! With a flourish you grab the fries from under Mingyu’s nose, along with whatever’s left in the fast food bag. 

Minghao’s smiling through his burger, knowing if he pulls any type of savagery his lunch would certainly be pulled from under his chin. 

“Whatever you’re thinking, drop it or the burger will be going in your ass instead of out.” You mean to sound menacing, but the Min-squared and their boisterous laughter follow you down the hallway and into the occupied studio. 

“Hey Jungkoo—wow.”

You’re sure you look like Alice, enthralled by the little wonderland she just stepped into. The set is beautiful, right out of a fairytale. It has a very old-romance vibe, like Morticia and Gomez Addams. There lay a couch made of the darkest, richest wood, with velvet red cushions covering the body. Across the floor laid hundreds of black rose petals, blanketing the floor in a sea of ebony. 

“It’s for a wedding, gothic themed.” Jungkook supplies helpfully, still fiddling with whatever he was looking on his digital camera. He’s looking utterly soft in a matching grey sweat combination, something that would easily disgust you during high school, but unfairly works with him. 

“The shoot must’ve been beautiful.” 

“It was.” 

“I uh, got this for you.” Your fingers start to sweat from clutching the bag so hard, and you place it on his work table. 

He finally looks up from his camera, giving you a wan smile. “I thought you got those for Minghao.” 

You mentally slap your cheeks, trying to ignore the way his smile made your stomach do somersaults. “He got his own. Your portion has a cookie in it, so.” 

His cute teeth unveil themselves at the mention of sweets, and you can’t help but smile back at the familiarity. 

The two of you take your time in enjoying your lunch, not meaning to stay but the very back of your mind hoping he’d like to share a meal with you. After all, Mingyu and Minghao are probably at the front relishing in your very obvious attraction. What can you say, first crushes never die. 

Between sips of your milkshake, you’ve taken to flipping through Jungkook’s portfolio. There’s a myriad of different subjects: beaches, people, the occasional squirrel. Each section of the portfolio feels like you’re being transported to a new side of Jungkook and his artistry, and you ached to know more. 

“Wow,” you point at an action shot of two girls in a dance studio, “this duo looks like Chungha and Hyoyeon.” 

He swallows his (second) burger, having the audacity to sink sheepishly in his sweater. “It is Chungha and Hyoyeon.” 

You nearly choke on your cookie. “That’s amazing.” you say breathlessly, looking closer at the image. In fact, the beautiful women photographed are famed hip-hop choreographers Chungha and Hyoyeon. You can’t imagine how good Jungkook must be to manage a photoshoot with them. 

As proud as you are of Jungkook, it reminds you that since middle school you two have lived completely different lives. You wonder if Jungkook gets these kinds of gigs all the time, hanging around with gorgeous, talented people like himself.

Jungkook says your name once, twice. He looks at you concerned, and you’re melting in his large carmine eyes. If he notices your usual overthinking, he doesn’t say anything, and gestures to the section at the end of his portfolio. “This isn’t my best work, but it’s one of my favorites.” 

There’s something familiar about this set. A playground with a busted swing set. Children riding on bikes and colorful class shirts. Ice cream melting on fists. 

Thirteen-year-old you hanging on top of your middle school’s leafless tree, clutching your baseball cap as you shade yourself from the sunset. 

“Was this the first time you took pictures?” you ask, thumbing the picture of yourself. 

“Yeah. It’s when I decided it’s what I wanted to do the rest of my life.” 

“I know we didn’t know each other that well and we’ve only recently connected but,” you give him a shy smile, “I’m really proud of what you’ve grown up to be, Jungkook.” 

He looks like you’ve hung him the moon and stars, his half-eaten burger loosening in his grasp. His lips are parted cutely, like a kitten who’s just been offered a fresh glass of milk. You cough at the sudden pause in conversation, feeling self-conscious of your impulse confession. You don’t even have it in you to be disgusted when Jungkook hastily shoves the second half of his burger down his throat, tips of his ears pink. 

Leaving him be, you press a palm to your cheek, looking at the wedding set. 

Jungkook downs half a water bottle before he speaks again. “Y’know, it would be a shame to clean up this set already. It was kind of expensive.” 

“Yeah,” you echo, standing up and kicking off your slippers. You kick your feet in the air, watching the black petals kiss across your ankles.

“I have an idea,” he wipes his hands on his sweats, “why don’t you go back home and get an outfit you really like. Lingerie, a cute outfit, whatever. Let me give you a photoshoot you’d love.” 

You look up from your petal dance, balking. “Jungkook! That’s not necessary, I told you the photos I took were okay.” 

“Yeah but, you didn’t seem entirely happy. C’mon, I got a camera and a beautiful set. Why waste it?” his hands naturally gravitate towards his charging camera, already turning it on. “I can do lighting, I know all your good angles. What’s stopping us?” 

Really, what’s stopping you? Your hands fiddle with your open flannel, the soft material comforting you as you look across the set. You try to imagine yourself, your body draped across the velvet pillows and black petals. Would it look good? Would you feel good? You think back to how you felt the first time, how scared you were when someone other than Johnny would be looking at your photos. You remember how something weird and sour contorted in your stomach when you scrolled through Jeon Jungkook’s Instagram, no longer the little boy you knew but a man who could have everything he wanted—

“Stop thinking about it.” Jungkook suddenly snaps, and you break from your reverie to catch him looking upset. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him like that. 

“Thinking about what?”

“Thinking that you’re out of my league.”

“Excuse me?” 

“You were like this the other day too,” and he looks sad, and puts his camera down to come closer to you. “Why are you feeling this way. Is it me?” 

“Not necessarily,” you huff, hugging yourself.

“Do you not feel beautiful? Do you not like your body?” 

“No, I do.” you say to yourself, and you mean it. Even though there will inevitably be days where you may not feel one-hundred percent positive about yourself, you know at the end of the day, you love you and all its parts. “I don’t know, Jungkook. I had no problem letting Mingyu develop the photos originally, because he knew me in college and I was already sure of myself back then. But I guess when I sent them to you, I felt like I did when I was a little girl, y’know? Going through puberty, and worrying about what other people think.” 

And it’s not like Jungkook teased you or made you feel lesser of yourself. In fact, Jungkook was the student you wanted to be when you were younger. Someone sweet and caring, and unabashedly confident about himself. 

“I guess seeing you so successful and the fact that my stupid childhood crush came back from a time where I always felt low, made me feel a little insecure again.” 

Something sinks in and you feel hyper aware of how crushed Jungkook looks at your declaration. “There’s no leagues, you got that?” he says quietly, walking so close that he’s hovering over you, sneakers brushing. “I get it. I get unsure and insecure just like you. Hell, I was nervous this morning, wondering if you’d really come. We may not feel insecure over the same things, but middle school wasn’t that great for me either.” He makes a funny face, and you feel a smile twitch across your lips. “But it’s okay. Because we’re human and we grow. But now, you are successful. You’ve grown from your time growing up and you’re a wonderful, powerful person. I’m proud of you too.” 

“I know,” you mumble, leaning your forehead against his chest. His arms wrap around you in response, holding you snug.

“And for the record, I thought you were the most beautiful person in the world in fourth grade. Even though my world was pretty small back then, I can say now that what I thought back then still stands true.” 

You look up from his embrace, where he’s leaning down to press a slow, cotton soft kiss to your forehead. He backs up a little to read your face, and you give a tiny nod in response to signal it’s okay. Jungkook exhales in contentment, relaxing against your frame. 

“Thanks, Kook,” you crack a smile, feeling your insecurities slowly evaporate. You feel better, light, knowing that these negative feelings are only temporary, and you’re not alone. Being in Jungkook’s arms, an honest boy turned man you’ve known all your life, it feels almost like home. 

You two stay like this for a while. Exchanging feather-like kisses, feeling irrevocably young and hopeful. Suddenly feeling emboldened, you tug him by the strings of his hoodie to press a long, hot kiss to his lips. There’s a stutter, and you’re pretty sure Jungkook choked on his saliva at the sudden change of pace but you continue, letting Jungkook catch up and follow your lead. 

“Wow,” Jungkook pulls away and his lips are shiny and flushed. Adorable. You think 7th grade Jungkook would be rolling in his Naruto sheets if he knew you two would inevitably end up together. Conversely, 7th grade you would be squealing in your kitten plushie, proud that you managed to nab your childhood crush to live out all the fantasies you’ve imagined since the 4th grade. 

“Jungkook,” you let your flannel fall to the floor in a heap, only leaving your baby blue top in a thin ruched camisole. “I think I want to do the photoshoot. Can’t pass up these pretty petals, y’know?” 

He runs a hand through his hair, gaping. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” you press a wet kiss to his neck, “anyway you want me, baby. Full creative control. I want you to like this as much as I do, okay?” 

With the permission to hold the wheel, Jungkook’s lightheaded and spinning. His eyes rake up and down your gorgeous form, wondering how many good deeds he’s done in his past life to earn a right just as this. 

“In that case,” he presses a palm to your shoulder, pushing you to sit along the velvet cushion, “strip for me.” 

[wheresmynaya]

Hate to Date Ch.2 | Brittana

A/N - Back to back weekly updates? You can thank this damn head cold for keeping me in bed LOL. I’m so blown away by the response the first chapter received, like holy shit you guys love a good trope combo same as me! Happy that you’re all enjoying it so far, hopefully I can keep delivering. Have at it! 💙

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & under the cut!

“I cannot believe this.”

Puck looks over at Santana muttering to herself as she stares at her phone and quirks his brow. She’s shaking her head now as she scrolls and it makes Puck wonder.

“What is it?”

Santana’s eyes widen at the screen before she’s scrolling again. With the shake of her head, she continues to mutter.

“Like I cannot actually believe this is happening to me.”

“What?” Puck tries again.

When Santana doesn’t answer, he leans over the armrest separating them to take a peek at her screen, but she quickly yanks the phone to her chest.

Puck sits back a little and starts to smirk, “You getting nudes in class now or something?”

Several students seated around turn to stare at them – even Brittany. Santana can already feel the color starting to drain from her face as they stare. It’s not the possibility that everyone will find out she’s being sent risky pictures, because hello been there done that – but because this is way worse.

“Jesus, no!” Santana snaps, but her deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression doesn’t help.

Brittany shakes her head before turning back to her work. The other students around them follow suit, but Puck’s the only one that seems way more interested in whatever’s going on with Santana than taking notes. He continues staring at her while she furiously taps at her screen.

“Can you stop? You’re being weird,” Santana grumbles as she side eyes him while she puts away her phone.

“Me?” Puck lets out a laugh in disbelief, “I’m being weird? You’re the one talking to yourself.”

Santana gives him a look but he doesn’t waver. In fact, he scoffs at her attitude.

“Ever since you came back from your last trip home you’ve been all,” Puck motions at her with his hand, “Which like, you’re always a little on edge whenever you come back from a visit but it’s lasting so much longer this time. Not to mention that you haven’t had any of your late night visitors come around. Something’s up.”

Santana stays quiet though and turns to keep taking notes. Puck eyes her, trying to find a weak spot in her armor.

“I haven’t seen Denise around,” Puck ends up adding, “I figured after bringing her home with you that she’d have a least one more week before you’re kicking her to the curb.”

At the mention of Denise, Santana stiffens.

Puck notices and pushes further, “Shit. What happened? Did your mom like…walk in on you two…” Puck lifts his hands to gesture but Santana quickly swats them down.

“Will you just drop it?”

“I can’t! Not when you’re always huffing and puffing at your phone,” Puck reasons, “Just tell me what’s going on with you?”

“No way.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because why?

“Because it’s too embarrassing.”

“Now you definitely have to tell me!”

“No!”

Suddenly Brittany’s turning around again, a flash of blonde hair whipping past, and a scowl on her face. Her piercing blue eyes cut her like ice as she glares.

“Can you both keep it down?” She scolds, “Some of us are trying to pay attention.”

“Some of us are trying to pay attention,” Santana mocks.

“Grow up,” Brittany says with an eyeroll before turning around.

Santana only sticks her tongue out, but despite the reminder that they’re still in the middle of class Puck is determined to get Santana talking. He’s such a little shit like that when it comes to keeping secrets.

“Just tell me,” He insists in a hushed tone, “I told you about that one time I nearly burned my dick off using your fancy shaving cream.”

“Yeah, I didn’t ask for that,” Santana replies bluntly, “I remember specifically saying that I didn’t want to know.”

“But that’s an embarrassing moment, so now you have to tell me yours.”

“That’s not how it works,” Santana says.

Just then, her phone lights up on her desk. She glances to it as Puck does the same. She knows what’s about to happen, but she shifts her stare to Puck hoping that he’s smarter than that.

Of course, he’s not and soon they’re both lunging for her phone.

Santana’s closer so she gets a hand on it first, but so does Puck and he tries valiantly to muscle her out of the way. It’s a lost cause trying to beat him but what she lacks in brawn she makes up for in brain. She’s quick to pinch him right under the bicep and Puck instantly pulls back.

“Ow! Fuck!” He groans.

Santana only smirks, “Don’t touch my shit.”

His face is still screwed up in pain as he rubs the spot while Santana slips her phone safely in her bag.

“That was dirty,” Puck tells her.

Santana just shrugs, “Would you expect anything less of me?”

Puck starts to grin, “Guess not.”

“Okay then,” She smirks and nods to the front of the lecture hall, “Now leave me alone. I’m trying to listen.”

And Puck does as he’s told – for a solid five seconds.

“Come on,” Puck pleads, “This is just a review. You don’t even need to listen.”

Santana sighs, “You’re not going to drop this?”

“No.”

“Fine,” Santana leans closer to Puck and whispers, “Swear you’ll never repeat this.”

Puck’s eyes widen like he’s just hit the jackpot, “I swear.”

“Okay,” Santana closes her eyes and settles her racing heart, “My mom is setting me up on blind dates because she’s tired of the kind of girls I bring home.”

Puck sits back and blinks, “Wait. What?”

“Yeah,” Santana says dejectedly as she goes back to writing, “It’s the same shit. She doesn’t think I take my future with her at the firm seriously because of my so-called reputation with women so now she’s taking over like she always does and trying to set me up with the perfect person. God, she makes it sound like I’m some sleezy player, but I’m respectful!”

“Now that’s hilarious,” Brittany comments just loud enough for Santana to hear.

Santana doesn’t pay her any mind though and looks back at Puck, “I’ve wine and dined every woman I’ve been with, you know that. I’ve opened every door, paid every tab, I even make sure they come first!”

“Totally, yeah.”

Santana slumps in her chair and thinks aloud, “I can’t help that I’m attractive, that’s what I told her. What’s so wrong about keeping my options open, right? What’s the point of being young and in college if she already wants me to settle down with someone already? It’s crazy and it’s ridiculous!”

Puck stays quiet for a moment longer like he’s still trying to grasp the concept, but only one question begs to be asked.

“Are they at least hot blind dates?”

Santana looks to him unamused, but she can tell he’s being completely serious and he’s so used to her judgment that it doesn’t usually phase him anymore anyway. So she sighs again and shrugs.

“I mean, yeah but that’s besides the point,” Santana answers honestly.

“Looks are important,” Puck assures her.

“Obviously, but I’m not that shallow,” Santana waves him off.

Puck shakes his head in disbelief, “So Mama Lopez has you going on blind dates...”

“Technically she’s only set me up on one blind date but she keeps sending through these potential romance partners,” Santana replies, “She has them formatted like a damn resume with a picture and bio, likes and dislikes, future plans. Every one of them has professional goals and despite them being relatively hot, they’re boring as hell!”

Puck starts to giggle as Santana shows him an example which earns him a punch in the arm.

“This is no laughing matter, Puckerman,” Santana says, “This is serious shit! I wouldn’t be surprised if she signs me up for The Bachelorette or something. This really is a new low for me.”

Puck looks back at her with a brow raised, “Oh no, my mom is setting me up on dates with beautiful and successful women. My life is so hard.”

“See that right there,” Santana points a finger at him, “That’s why I didn’t tell you in the first place.”

“Come on,” Puck jokes, “I can kind of see why she’s stepping in. Your dating history is on the same level as mine and that’s not a good thing.”

“Why?” Santana cocks her head to the side, “Because you’re a guy?”

“I – well…”

“Exactly,” Santana huffs, “I’m tired of the insane double standards. I like to date, so what? Doesn’t give her an excuse to meddle in my love life.”

“More like lust life.”

Santana gives him a look, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Puck brushes off, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. You don’t do commitments and you don’t do long term. You’re there for the fun parts and then as soon as they get attached, you break it off. It’s text book Lopez.”

Santana hates how see-through she feels and crosses her arms over her chest in defiance.

“You’re one to talk. When was your last relationship?”

“You know the answer to that,” Puck says with an unexpected seriousness in his tone.

Santana grits her teeth and looks away, “Point is I don’t need her setting me up. I like my life the way that it is.”

“She’s doing the work for you though,” Puck reasons, “Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic here?”

“Of course not!”

Suddenly Brittany’s turning around again, “You two are unbelievable.”

“Sorry Britt,” Puck apologizes and taps his paper, “I’m all ears now.”

Santana doesn’t have anything witty to say in return though, because now she’s finally letting the gravity of the situation she’s gotten herself into weight down on her. Since returning home, she’s been brushing this whole blind date thing off but now that she’s talked about it aloud it’s like the veil of ignorant bliss has been lifted.

She really is in deep shit.

There’s only so many times she can try to evade Maribel’s attempts before she’s being ambushed – hell, it’s already happened once before! Her mother’s never been one to back down easily, so Santana doesn’t see the end coming anytime soon, not until Santana has a proper suiter by her side.

“I have to figure a way out of this,” She says suddenly before turning to Puck. “She’s already set me up on another date when I come home for winter break.”

“Damn, Mama Lopez works quick.”

Santana reached over and grabs his wrist. Her grip is so tight that Puck winces.  

“Ow! What the hell?”

“You’ve got to help me,” Santana tells him, “What if I’m stuck going on boring dates for the rest of my life?”

Puck laughs as he pries her fingers off, “Why don’t you just date one of the girls you bring home for longer than a couple weeks?”

Santana shakes her head, “I can’t do that. Have you seen these women my mom has picked out? The Art Majors I’ve taken home can’t compete with that!”

“Well then I guess I can offer my services.”

Santana rolls her eyes, “One: that ship sailed a long ass time ago. Two: no one would believe it. Three: I need someone that’s actually impressive.”

“Rude,” Puck puffs out his chest, “I’m impressive. Check out these guns.”

Santana shakes her head as he starts to flex.

“You okay back there, Noah?” Professor Martinez asks, “You forget you’re not at football practice again?”

Puck instantly stops, “My B, Prof Martinez!”

While they get back to focusing on class, Santana’s gears are still turning, trying to come up with a solution to this mess.

\\

After another few days of dealing with Maribel playing matchmaker, Santana’s had enough.

She and Puck are home trying to wind down after their long day of school and practice. Puck’s in the middle of ordering way too much pizza while Santana’s in the kitchen already halfway through her second glass of wine. She’s mindlessly scrolling through her phone when a text from Maribel comes through.

“This woman doesn’t quit,” Santana laughs as she joins Puck on the couch, “Check this one out.”

Puck leans over and reads, “Likes quiet nights at home, reading and horseback riding.”

“She’s a horse girl,” Santana states, “My mother has recommended I date a horse girl.”

“She’s the hottest horse girl I’ve ever seen,” Puck compliments, “And hey, at least she’d know how to ri– “

“Don’t even,” Santana stops him.

“What?” Puck snickers, “Let me see the next one.”

Santana sighs but shows him anyway. They go through a couple duds before settling on another pretty blonde that sparks both of their attentions.

“This one’s in culinary school,” Santana says, “Not really a career path mom would’ve included in here but maybe she’s an heir to the throne or something.”

“Which throne?”

“Who knows,” Santana shrugs.

“Dating a chef would be cool. You’d always eat good,” Puck starts to smirk, “You see what I did there?”

Santana looks unimpressed, “Stevie Wonder could see that coming.”

Puck brushes her off as he takes a sip of his beer.

“You’re mean when you haven’t been laid,” He frowns.

\\

Once the pizza comes, they lay out the boxes on the coffee table and camp out around it while they continue drinking. Puck has something random on tv but it’s so lame that it starts to be hilarious – or maybe that’s the alcohol talking. They go between watching the screen and scrolling through more of the profiles Maribel sends through.

“I don’t even reply to these things anymore,” Santana giggles.

“You’re leaving Mama Lopez on read?” Puck asks with his eyes all glassy, “Damn. That’s cold. Even your own mom gets the Lady Killer Lopez treatment.”

“That’s not a thing,” Santana laughs, “Besides, I reply to her just not when she’s trying to set me up with a future wife.”

Puck shakes his head, “How you gonna ghost her when you go home in a few weeks?”

“Maybe I’ll skip going home?”

“Bullshit,” Puck jokes, “Your mom would kick your ass then she’d kick mine for not locking you out of the apartment.”

“You right,” Santana chuckles, “I guess I’ll just figure it out when I get there.”

\\

After a few more slices of pizza and more drinking, Puck gets an idea.

“What if you tell her you already have a girlfriend?”

Santana starts to giggle, “And who would this girlfriend be?”

“I don’t know,” Puck shrugs, “She’s made up!”

“Made up? That’s the worst idea ever.”

“She can’t send you pics of hot chicks anymore if you’ve got one though?”

“But I don’t have one,” Santana reasons.

“So lie.”

Santana quirks her brow, “You want me to lie to Maribel Lopez?”

Puck raises his beer, “Got a better idea?”

Santana thinks about that for a moment but everything’s kind of wine-soaked and cloudy.

“I guess not.”

Puck grins, “Then this is the answer to all your problems! Tell her you have a girlfriend already!”

It’s not one of her brightest moments in the world, but are any ideas bright after a bottle of wine? She just wants the constant texts about prospective suiters to stop and at this moment in time, Puck’s a goddamn genius.

“Done,” Santana says triumphantly and goes to send the text to Maribel.

“Liar,” Puck laughs, “You didn’t actually, right?”

“I sure fucking did,” Santana nods and shows the screen to her best friend.

“Can’t. Got a gf. It’s pretty serious,” Puck reads then falls on his back roaring with laughter.

“What?” Santana looks back at the text. The screen’s a little blurry so she squints, “Did I spell something wrong?”

“I can’t believe you actually sent that,” Puck says. There’s a brief moment of clarity where Santana regrets her decision but it’s quickly interrupted by Puck adding, “You never listen to me!”

“Yeah, there’s a reason for that…”

Santana looks back at the screen contemplating whether or not she should follow up with a jk or just leave it, but the alcohol is making her move slower than usual. By the time she decides, there’s a next text from Maribel.

“Shit!” Santana throws the phone at Puck’s chest, “You read it. I can’t.”

Puck sits back up and does his best impression of Maribel as he reads, “Lovely. Can’t wait to meet her.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

“You’re so screwed,” Puck laughs, “What are you going to do?”

“Hell if I fucking know! This is your fault.”

“Hey, I didn’t send that message. You did.”

“You know how I feel about peer pressure!” Santana argues, “Mama didn’t raise no bitch.”

“You’re right, she raised a dumbass!”

“Fuck off!”

Puck laughs while Santana goes to stand and starts pacing but instead of straight lines, her path is curvy and she nearly trips over the leg of the coffee table.

“Sit your ass down. You’re making me dizzy!”

“I’m making me dizzy,” Santana snaps but slumps down on the coach. She tries to relax but her thoughts keep whirling, “Shit. What did I just do?”

Puck glances warily in her direction, “Okay. You’re killing my buzz. You need to chill.”

Santana shakes her head, “What I need is a hot and smart girlfriend who can put all these women my mom is trying to set me up with to shame now because apparently I have one of those!”

Puck raises a brow, “Where the hell you gonna find someone like that?”

Santana only shrugs as she downs the rest of her glass.  

Puck nods, but something about Santana’s comment gets him thinking.

\\

It takes about a week before Puck’s finally ready to present Santana with his solution. He’s like a giddy kid on Christmas morning as he leads Santana to a vacant study room one day before her cheer practice.

Santana grows even more curious as they walk by the smaller rooms available for booking and head down to the very end where the larger rooms are situated. She wouldn’t say she trusts Puck’s judgement because he’s partly the reason why she’s in this mess, but part of her really is curious about this big idea he has.

Or maybe the curiosity is actually desperation?

When they get to the last door, Puck pauses and turns to her.

“You ready?”

Santana gives him a curious look before shrugging, “I guess?”

Puck nods and swings open the door in a showy fashion.

There is a single table with two chairs set up on the near side of the room and Puck leads the way over, pulling the chair out for Santana so she can sit. She’s looking around cautiously, trying to figure out what’s going on here when Puck calls out.

“Okay ladies, you can come out now!”

“Huh?” Santana deadpans.

Suddenly, a side door opens and line of six women come sauntering out. Santana’s looking at them, trying to figure out if she can recognize who they are. Instead, she finds them giving her flirty looks accompanied by brilliant smiles. Santana’s momentarily starstruck by their beauty, but then she turns to Puck and remembers that she has no idea what’s going on.

“What the hell is this?” She asks him.

“Well,” Puck smirks as he takes the seat next to her, “These are the most eligible girls on campus that you can take home to impress your mom.”

Santana’s jaw drops, “Are you kidding me?”

“I’m so serious,” Puck replies, “I listened to what you said the other night. You need hot, smart, and put together – someone who can put all the ones your mom suggests to shame. Well, look no further because here they are!”

“Why does everyone feel the need to ambush me with beautiful women?” Santana mumbles to herself before looking at Puck, “How did you find these people?”

“I’ve got my ways,” Puck smirks, “They tick all the boxes – mostly – so you just have to pick one to be your girlfriend. Problem solved.”

“Problem not solved,” Santana says, “I don’t want a girlfriend!”

“They know that,” Puck replies, “They’re all wannabe actors. They see this as an opportunity to go all Jared Leto.”

Santana wrinkles her nose, “They’re going to send me a dead pig?”

“What? No, they’re going to go all method acting on you! They know the relationship is all for show is what I’m trying to say,” Puck explains, “They’re just going to pretend to be your girlfriend.”

“So they’re basically escorts.”

“I mean,” Puck glances to them and back at Santana. He lowers his voice to a whisper, “I think one of them actually is. I’m not sure. No judgement though, do what you gotta do.”

Santana shakes her head, “No. Hell no.”

“Why?” Puck asks, “It’s like your personal episode of the Bachelorette. You love that show!”

Santana’s eyes widen, “Will you keep it down? I don’t love that show. I just like the drama.”

“Yeah whatever,” Puck waves off, “Just ask them a few questions and see which one you like the most and you’ll have a girlfriend. Boom!”

“I said no.”

“Come on, why not?”

“Why not?” Santana laughs, “Because I don’t want my life to be like that show. In fact, I was hoping it’d never happen to me and yet…here we are.”

Puck cringes but tries to smile through her anger, “At least we’re not on tv?”

Santana’s in disbelief, “Yeah. I guess there’s that.”

“You know, I worked really hard on this,” Puck frowns, “You know how many study sessions I’ve missed trying to find these people? I’m missing one right now, Britt’s so disappointed.”

“Boo-hoo,” Santana waves off, “I’m not doing this. I’m not about to pretend to date a random. First of all, they’re pretending to be someone they’re not on top of pretending to be my girlfriend. Second of all, I don’t know any of these people well enough to bring them around my family. It’s a shit show waiting to happen. God, you know what would happen if this got back to my mom? It would be way worse than what I’ve been doing.”

“How would it get back to her? Who would even tell?” Puck questions, “The girls have been sworn to secrecy!”

“Gee, I don’t know,” Santana argues, “Maybe her husband?”

Puck scoffs, “Coach wouldn’t – “

Santana gives him a look, “Who told her about the time cops busted up our Halloween party because some asshole tipped them off? And what about that llama that I helped your dumbass set free in the freshman dorms when you were drunk because of a ridiculous bet?”

“Shit, you’re right,” Puck slumps in his chair.

Santana stands and pats Puck on the shoulder, “This whole thing is a hard no. Good try though.”

“Thanks,” He sighs before calling out to the women, “Sorry, ladies! Deal’s off.”

The women all stop smiling and grumble beneath their breath as they exit the room, casting dirty looks at Puck and Santana.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” She says, “I didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“So winter break starts next week,” Puck mentions as the women file out of the room, “What are you going to do now?”

Santana shrugs, “I’ve been thinking of hanging back for Christmas so I can catch up on some work. Maybe make a little progress on that big assignment for Professor Martinez’s class.”

Puck’s brows rise, “You’re gonna stay home? I thought that was off the table?”

“Just for Christmas. I’ll definitely have to make an appearance for New Year’s,” Santana replies, “Maybe I’ll tell my mom I’ve gone home with my imaginary girlfriend to visit her family instead?”

“That could actually work,” Puck chuckles.

“Maybe,” Santana smirks, “Anyway…now you’ve got time for your study session with what’s-her-face.”

Puck laughs at that as he throws his arm around her shoulders, “You know I’m determined to figure this out for you, right? You asked for my help and I’m committed.”

“Yeah and I appreciate it,” Santana chuckles, “Go. Don’t want to keep Brittany waiting, she might draw a frowny face on your homework.”

Puck gets to thinking, “Don’t joke. She just might!”

\\

While Santana continues to ponder on this dilemma, she contemplates swearing off alcohol for a long time. If she hadn’t been drinking with Puck that night then maybe she wouldn’t have dug herself into an even deeper hole. The longer she thinks on it, the more frustrated she becomes, but what can she do?

The next time Puck approaches Santana with a potential solution, it’s through a single text message a few days later:

Puckerman: Meet me at Rise & Grind at 3.

Santana eyes the message suspiciously. Judging by his last attempt, who knows what her best friend has up his sleeve this time. Still, she agrees because honestly she doesn’t have anything better to do and she’s curious. What could he possibly do to top his little Bachelorette stunt from the other day?

When she arrives to the café on time, Puck’s waiting for her outside the entry doors.

“Yo!” He calls out to her.

“Hey,” She greets in return before nodding at the doors, “I’m not about to walk into a blind date, am I?”

Puck laughs, “Mama Lopez got you all traumatized now?”

“I’m just saying,” Santana replies, “I don’t know if I can handle another one of your great ideas so this better be good.”

“Damn. Where’s the faith?”

“Why do you think I agreed to meet you? You’re lucky I even showed up,” Santana answers as she follows Puck inside.

“Okay, so hear me out – “

Santana freezes when Puck leads her to an occupied table. More importantly, a table being occupied by none other than Brittany S. Pierce herself.

“What the hell is this?” Santana snaps and turns to Puck, “Why is she here?”

Brittany also looks to Puck for an answer, “I could ask the same thing.”

Puck’s all devious grins and confidence as he pushes at Santana’s shoulders so that she’d sit across from Brittany. He grabs a spare chair from a nearby table and takes a seat between the enemies.

“So I’m sure you guys are wondering why we’re here,” Puck starts to explain.

“No shit,” Santana grumbles.

“I mean, I was meant to be here,” Brittany says and looks to Santana, “Just not with you.”

“Believe me, there are many places I’d much rather be,” Santana rolls her eyes and looks to Puck, “What is this about? I thought you were presenting me another one of your great ideas.”

“I am,” Puck insists, “If you’d just shut up for two seconds, I can explain.”

“Big ask,” Brittany teases, “She loves hearing the sound of her own voice.”

“Says you!” Santana snaps, “Seriously Puckerman, why’s she here?”

“Like I said, I’m meant to be here,” Brittany replies, “I booked this table.”

“Okay okay,” Puck interrupts Santana’s next insult, “The reason why you’re both here is that I think you two need each other.”

“Need each other?” Brittany’s brows rise comically while Santana’s just laughs.

“I need her like I need a nail to the head,” Santana says flatly.

“Same,” Brittany agrees then looks to Puck, “I thought we were here to make up for those study sessions you’ve been missing?”

“Of course you thought that,” Santana shakes her head, “What a nerd.”

“Hey,” Puck says sternly, “Didn’t you kick a girl out of your bed because she made you late for class?”

Santana’s jaw drops at the low blow, “I can’t believe you just said that.”

Brittany starts to smirk, “Who’s the nerd now?”

Santana rolls her eyes and goes to stand, “This was a big fail, Noah. I don’t know what you were thinking but this – “

“I didn’t even explain yet,” Puck interrupts, “Just sit, okay? You two are already going to have to work together so you might as well start getting along now.”

“Back up,” Santana flinches, “What do you mean work together?”

Brittany gives them both a blank look, “I’m so confused right now.”

“No surprise there,” Santana quips to which Brittany scoffs.

“Okay look,” Puck starts again, “I may have spoken to Professor Martinez and now you two are sort of working together for the assignment.”

Santana’s eyes widen, “How the fuck did you manage to pull that off?”

“It was weirdly easy actually,” Puck shrugs, “A little fear and intimidation tactic to get Brittany’s partner to agree to the switch then I just hit up Prof Martinez to confirm.”

“I didn’t agree to a partner switch,” Brittany adds then cuts a glare to Santana, “Especially when that partner is you.”

Santana rolls her eyes at the blonde before looking to Puck, “Seriously, I’m this close to kicking your ass.”

Brittany sputters a laugh, “As much as I’d love to see that considering your bite-sized stature – ”

“I’ll show you bite-sized.”

“See!” Puck interjects, “You guys are already hitting it off!”

Santana and Brittany both stop to glare at him.

“Clearly, we are not,” Santana points out.

Santana’s starting to get really worked up about this now, she can feel her face heating with rage. Honestly, what the hell was he thinking? This might be even worse than the whole imaginary girlfriend idea!

Brittany on the other hand speaks more calmly, “I don’t know why you’d think it would be okay to switch partners without my permission or what you’re trying to drag me into but I’m not here for it. This grade is important to me. My education is important to me.”

“I know,” Puck says genuinely, “Seriously, I know. That’s why I did it. Kind of.”

“Kind of?” Brittany frowns.

“Yeah, well it’s part of the reason why I did it,” Puck replies cryptically, “I think you two should work together, because you’re each other’s best chance at getting the grant. You’re the best in class!”

“I’m better,” Santana slips in.

Brittany gives her an amused look, “Sure.”

Puck shakes his head and looks at Santana, “I know you need this a lot more than I do.” Then he looks to Brittany, “So do you. And as cool as it would be to ride on Santana’s coattails for this, I don’t think I’d feel right sharing the benefits if I didn’t work as hard.”

“You’d have to win first,” Brittany comments.

“Right,” Puck agrees, “And it’s a slime chance of that if we’re teaming up – but you two? Together?”

Santana and Brittany share a glance, but they quickly avert their eyes back to Puck.

“Professor Martinez was right about what could be if you both put your differences aside,” Puck tells them, “If you two work together on this, it would be an easy win. You keep it the way it is, maybe none of us would get that grant.”

Brittany seems to really take in his words and consider the offer, while Santana watches him curiously. Since when has her best friend ever worried about riding her coattails for a good grade?

“Plus,” Puck adds, “It’ll help make your relationship a lot more believable.”

“Our what?!” Santana and Brittany gasp in unison.

“Your relationship,” Puck says, “You’ll be spending lots of time together working on this assignment, late nights at the library or whatever, sparks are bound to fly so a budding romance wouldn’t be the craziest thing ever. I mean, minus the whole hating each other part but you could just blame it on the sexual tension. Everyone’s already thinking it anyway.”

“Wait what?” Santana blinks blankly, “What do you mean they’re already thinking it?”

Puck ignores her, “You two working together on this assignment is the perfect cover! Like, how many lab partners have you hooked up with because you’ve spent so much time together? Personally, I’m at like a solid three and a half.”

“How can there be a half?” Brittany asks.

Puck only winks, “We got interrupted.”

Brittany looks taken aback, “Right…”

Santana, on the other hand, looks at Puck like he’s got two heads, “Have you lost your goddamn mind or have you been hit too many times out on that field and you’re now concussed?”

Puck sighs, “I’m serious.”

Santana stares back with her jaw tensed, still trying to decide how she feels about this proposition.

“I’m still on the relationship part,” Brittany mutters.

Puck looks to Santana with a proud grin on his face, “This’ll work.”

Santana doesn’t really know what to think at the moment. She hasn’t had enough time to process, but the logic is there – sort of. Call it a momentary lapse in judgement, but she let’s the thought roll around in her mind.

Unlike the girls he tried to set her up with the other day, she actually knows Brittany – she knows that she’s apparently a genius otherwise she wouldn’t be giving Santana so much grief. That’s at least one box checked so far?

“You’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this,” Santana notes.

“Dude, you have no idea!” Puck replies excitedly, “It’s my best work yet. Look at her, she’s everything you asked for.”

Puck and Santana glance at Brittany who’s growing even more confused by the second.

“What exactly did you ask for?” She looks between the two skeptically.

The question goes unanswered though as Santana quickly interrupts.

“Puckerman, no.”

“Santana, yes.”

Brittany cuts in, “Can someone answer me?”

Santana looks to Puck, “Don’t.”

Puck doesn’t listen though, “Long story short, Santana needs someone to pretend to be her girlfriend for awhile so her mom will take her seriously.”

Santana’s face goes red as she gives Puck a death glare.

Brittany looks to her and smirks, “I’ve seen the women hanging off of you. It’s going to take a lot more than a fake girlfriend to do that.”

“You know what? Fuck you,” Santana mutters.

“I know,” Puck says to Brittany, “That’s why she needs someone hot and smart and impressive to convince Mama Lopez that she’s in a legit relationship and she’s serious about her future and stuff. She needs you!”

Santana’s heart plummets to her stomach. She can’t believe Puck’s just airing out her business like this to Brittany of all people. She can’t wait to give him a good kick in the crotch when they’re out of here, maybe remind him about what it means to be loyal.

“Okay, you know what?” Santana snaps, “Fuck you both,”

Brittany’s even more intrigued now though, so much so that she begins to smirk.

“So you need me?” She asks devilishly, “This is getting better by the second.”

“I don’t,” Santana rolls her eyes and stands, “You’re out of your mind, Puck.”

“Wait!” Puck tries, “I’m not finished.”

“Nah, I’ve heard enough.”

“I’ll listen,” Brittany says which makes Santana stop.

“You’ll listen?” Santana’s in awe, “Why would you entertain this?”

“Because I’m interested,” Brittany shrugs, “And I think it’s hilarious that you, Miss Santana Lopez, the supposedly smoothest talking femme fatale on campus needs help from little ole me.”

Santana can’t help but roll her eyes.

“Which is satisfying in of itself, but what’s in it for me?” Brittany questions as she looks to Puck, “Why do I need to be in a relationship with her?”

Santana goes to sit back down, drawn in by the banter, “I don’t know why you say it like that as if several women wouldn’t kill to be in your position.”

“Well,” Brittany starts to smirk, “They must not be as smart and hot and impressive as me or they’d be here, right?”

Santana rests back in her chair, her arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

“That’s what I thought,” Brittany grins and looks to Puck, “So what’s in it for me?”

Puck looks between the two before settling on Brittany, “From what we were talking about yesterday, I think you know the answer to your question, Britt.”

Surprisingly, Brittany suddenly softens.

“You’d benefit from this just as much,” Puck continues, “It’s Santana Lopez after all. You know she has some pull around here.”

“Right,” Brittany answers quietly.

There’s something beneath the surface, Santana can see it, but she’s not sure what and she’s not sure why her pull means anything to the blonde. Brittany only nods like she and Puck share some secret and that tugs at something deep within Santana. But before Santana can try and delve into what that secret might be, the spotlight’s back on her.

“And New Year’s is coming up,” Puck mentions to Santana, “You really want to go home empty handed after telling your mom that you’ve got this serious girlfriend now?”

Santana groans, “Fuck that.”

“That’s what I thought,” Puck nods, “Think about it. You both need each other in more ways than one but hey, what do I know? Just the dumb jock here. You’ve got to admit though that this could work.”

Santana and Brittany exchange a look as if they are contemplating whether or not they’d actually be able to stand each other long enough to make this relationship believable.

“You wouldn’t need to do it forever,” Puck adds, “Just a few months or so.”

“True,” Brittany nods, “No way I could last any longer than that.”

“You got that right,” Santana agrees and looks to Brittany, “If you agree to this, you’ll have to fly home with me often. That means being around my family and there’s a lot of them. They’re going to be all up in your business too, can you handle that?”

“Easy,” Brittany shrugs, “Parents love me.”

Santana’s slightly impressed by the fact that Brittany’s seemingly confidence about this already. Most of the girls she has brought home either panic or don’t panic enough. She’s interested to see how much of this confidence holds up though when the time comes.

“And on campus,” Santana adds, “We’re going to have to act like a couple here too. We can’t slip up because word might get back to my mom and that’ll fuck up the whole thing.”

“It’ll be difficult,” Brittany replies, “But I’m sure I can manage, so long as you do your best work for Prof Martinez’s assignment. I need that grant.”

“We’ll get that grant,” Santana assures her.

“So,” Puck prompts, “What do you say? You two girlfriends now?”

Again, Santana and Brittany look back at each other. Santana eyes her analytically and she can’t believe she’s actually considering this. Ever since Brittany’s transferred here, she has challenged Santana academically at every turn, it’s been a nightmare. She’s never been one to share the top spot and now she’s expected to work with her? It’s crazy talk.

But the longer she stares, the more sense it starts to make because Brittany really does check all the boxes – no matter how much Santana hates to admit it. Obviously, the smarts are there otherwise they wouldn’t be in this rivalry mess but that’s not all there is. Brittany competes with the Brainiacs and she’s on the robotics team, she tutors in her free time and other nerdy shit Santana wouldn’t dare get involved with.

Not to mention, Brittany’s smokin’ hot. Like objectively speaking, Santana thinks. She’s got legs for days and this mega watt smile and those eyes – as much as she hates to make eye contact with her, it’s not the worst view in the world.

When Santana finally drifts back to reality, she lets out a deep sigh.

“Yes.”

“Really?” Puck clarifies.

“I’m not going to say it again,” Santana grumbles.

“And you?” Puck asks Brittany.

She hesitates first before nodding, “Yeah.”

“Yes!” Puck exclaims and looks to Santana, “See, I told you I was committed to figuring this out! Break out your phones, let’s make this Facebook official!”

Santana nods warily then looks to Brittany, “The first hurdle will be the annual New Year’s Eve party my mom puts together so we can use the week before as a practice run. Unless you’re heading home for Christmas?”

Brittany shakes her head, “I’ll be here.”

“Great,” Santana replies, “God, I can’t believe I’m even talking about this. I can’t believe I have to pretend to be in a relationship with you.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Brittany says, “Like you aren’t even my type.”

Santana’s first instinct is to scoff, but she can’t help but wonder what Brittany’s reason for agreeing to do all this might be. Surely her parents aren’t also trying to set her up on dates with randoms? Either way, whatever it is – maybe Santana can have some fun with this? After all, what’s the point of fake dating your archnemesis if you can’t make them suffer a little?

“Please,” Santana smirks, “I’m the embodiment of your type.”

“Yeah. Right,” Brittany laughs, “You like them easy and ditzy.”

Puck only wears a proud smile as he watches from between them.

“Love the bonding, guys! No one’s going to suspect a thing!”

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

Summary:  Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM. 

All the warnings listed on Part I apply.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V /  Part VI /  Part VII /  Part VIII  / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

Almost two months after moving out of Beck’s place, Peter was able to rent an apartment in the same building as Ned and MJ. It was tiny, of course, but pretty inexpensive, compared to other options he found around that area. Besides, with the money he made with Just4Fans over those few weeks, he would be able to afford it comfortably for at least a few months – largely thanks to YKWIM. He still planned on saving up as much as possible, so he put a lot of effort into making his account grow and it was working – by the end of April, he was up to five hundred subscribers.

He didn’t check to see what Beck was doing, he was too afraid to look and see him with his new boyfriend, but he got lots of comments from his old fans, who still followed Beck, telling him that the new boy had nothing on him. Again, he didn’t dare to check, but the ego boost was nice, even if he didn’t really believe them. Also, he was down to crying once every two days instead of every other day, so he was counting that as a win as well.

His apartment was still pretty empty, specially because he spent most of his time downstairs at his friends’ place, but he decorated the bathroom and his room to the best of his ability, since they would be the background of pretty much all his videos and pictures. He also bought some new lingerie sets, a few costumes and sex toys he wasn’t even sure how to use, but he was slowly figuring them out.

Aside from decorating his room and the bathroom, he also bought an armchair and placed it by the  window with a couple of pillows. It was a nice spot to spend the afternoon reading or working on his computer. The light in that apartment was great, sunlight streamed right into his living room and warmed it up nicely. As they approached the end of April, the weather was getting better everyday.

Some days, he felt happy. He felt okay with the fact that he was still doing porn and that it wasn’t a terrible crime. Sure, it wasn’t what he had planned to do with his life, but he was young, he would eventually figure things out. For the time being, he needed that gig and he couldn’t beat himself up for it. Also, it wasn’t so bad now that he was only doing solo stuff.

Some other days, though, were just – hard. He remembered all the videos that were still online and he felt awful for the sole reason that they existed. Not so much for the ones he filmed with Beck, he was somewhat okay with those, the guy was his boyfriend after all, they had sex anyway, the only difference was the camera in the room. But the other ones…

When he started filming with other men, it quickly turned into an unpleasant experience for him. He hated every second of it and always ended up feeling guilty, used and disposable at the end of the day. Beck didn’t make it any better with the way he looked at him afterwards as he told him to get in the shower.

He wasn’t entirely sure of the reasons why those videos bothered him so much, sometimes it felt like it wasn’t even him in them. It was like he was watching a different person, he looked at himself and felt completely dissociated from that boy – at the same time, he looked at him and he knew – he knew – exactly what he was feeling when those were shot.

But that was a lot to unpack and he just wasn’t ready for that particular crisis.  

So in short, sometimes he was still a little unsure about how long he would be able to keep his Just4Fans account, because even though most days he didn’t feel too weird about it, sometimes it reminded him of things he preferred to forget. But that was fine, he was usually able to work around that. Also, most of his subscribers were great and didn’t make him feel like a cheap whore, so he had that going for him as well.

YKWIM was one of the good ones. They chatted almost daily, and Peter always sent him exclusive pictures and videos just because. He never posted those pictures on his feed once he sent them to him, it was their little secret. In return, he got his own collection of short videos of YKWIM finishing himself off. He didn’t know much about the person behind the videos, he’d taken to calling him daddy because most of his subscribers seemed to like it and YKWIM never complained, so it stuck.

Peter did know he lived in New York – which made him shiver – and that he was a businessman of some kind, but he also always talked about a workshop, so Peter wasn’t sure and he avoided asking personal questions. He worked most of the day and into the night, they usually talked when it was late, always around two in the morning.

He traveled a lot, too, and sometimes sent Peter small clips of his hotel rooms or the view from his balcony. In return, Peter sent him pictures of his messy bedroom and the horrible view from his window as a joke. It was nice talking to him, he always made Peter laugh – and then it often ended with a very satisfying orgasm that put him right to sleep, which was awesome.

Peter estimated YKWIM was older than Beck, but not by too much. He clearly had a fit body, which at first led him to believe he was in his thirties, at most; but he noticed YKWIM sometimes talked about the 80’s like he lived them, so he had to be at least in his forties, but Peter couldn’t be sure. He really wished he would show his face, though, it would be nice to have one to fantasize about. But then again, maybe it would ruin the whole thing.

One afternoon, after Peter spent hours taking pictures, shooting videos and editing them so he could post them over the following week, he got a message from YKWIM. He hurried to check it and was shocked to see that he had sent him yet another tip – forty thousand dollars this time.

“For you to buy pretty things so you can show them off to me.” Said the message that came with the money.

Peter almost dropped his phone when he saw it. It had been only five weeks since his last insane tip, so that made fifty thousand dollars in just a little over a month. For, like, thirty nudes. Who even was that guy?

“Wow, daddy, that’s way too much!” He added a flushed face emoji, for lack of something better to say. He was honestly feeling a little overwhelmed, even if the guy had millions to spend, there was no way just giving someone that amount of money was normal.

“That’s not nearly enough for what you’ve given me, baby.” Peter’s cheeks burned.

“I’m very flattered, but please, I really don’t think I deserve all this.” He was pretty sure he sounded pathetic, but that was how he felt, so. Yeah.

“Oh, but you do. Trust me, you really, really do. You’re worth every penny.” Peter bit his lower lip, a little unsure and still a little shocked.

“At least tell me what you’d like to see from me, please. Do you have any kinks that you’d like me to perform? Don’t be shy.” He asked, even though it always made him nervous to offer that kind of thing. Sometimes people were just waiting for the perfect opportunity to make the weirdest requests.

But, to be fair, he had been talking to YKWIM for over a month, so he somewhat trusted him not to ask for anything too absurd.  And then again, the guy had just paid him forty thousand dollars.

“Well, if you insist...” Here it comes, Peter thought, bracing himself. “Red and gold are my favorite colors. I’d love to see you wearing them.” Oh. Not what he was expecting at all.

“Done! Anything else? Come on, there’s gotta be something else.” Again, risky move. But again, forty thousand dollars.

“I’d love to hear you. You’re always so quiet in your videos. If you feel comfortable, I’d love to hear you call my name.” The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at that request. It sounded… almost sweet? It obviously wasn’t meant like that, it was completely sexual, but out of all the wild things he could have asked for, he wanted to hear Peter call his name.

“What’s your name, daddy?”

“Tony.” Tony. Peter tested the word out on his tongue, saying it out loud once, twice. Tony. It suited the image he had created in his head. Tony.

“I can definitely do that, Tony. Anything else?”

“Buy yourself something pretty and send me a picture wearing it. Nothing sexual. Something you’d wear to a date with me.” Peter’s breath hitched. He supposed it was probably just a weird, rich people kink or something, but his mind went wild anyway. Very, very wild.

“I don’t know what I’d wear to a date with you, daddy. Any advice?”

“I like expensive and beautiful things such as yourself, baby.”

Normally, Peter wouldn’t appreciate being called expensive, like he was a thing to be bought, but he felt weirdly flattered by the answer. He promised YKW – Tony – he would send everything he requested over the next few days, and he was actually excited about the whole thing. And of course he knew that feeling was trouble, there were warning signs flashing like crazy before his eyes, but he ignored them and convinced himself that he was just having fun and he was allowed to have fun if he was going to keep doing porn. He didn’t have to feel miserable and guilty all the fucking time. He could – and should! – take some pleasure from it. He deserved it.

So the following day he asked MJ to go shopping with him, but he still didn’t tell her the whole story, he just said it was for his Just4Fans and she readily agreed to go. They went to Victoria’s Secret and Peter told her what he had in mind.

“So, how’s the job going? You’re doing okay? Not too overwhelmed?” She asked coolly as they searched through the panties section.

“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s different when I’m in control, you know? Like, I know my limits and I don’t need to count on other people to respect them. Well, most of the time. So it’s cool.”

Some subscribers were a little pushy sometimes, asking for things Peter wasn’t willing to do and then getting really aggressive after being told no. But it didn’t affect him as much as it did when Beck ignored his boundaries, because those pushy subscribers could be easily blocked, whereas with Beck, well. It was a different story.

“Don’t ever feel like you need to push your limits, okay?” Michelle stopped what she was doing to grab him by the shoulders and force him to look at her. “If you ever feel like stopping, for whatever reason, just do it. No matter what, you’ll always have me and Ned, understand? We’re family, we’re here for you, we’d never leave you alone. If you want to stop, we’ll figure something out together, you hear me?” The way she looked into his eyes made him understand that she really meant every single word of it.

Family. He had a family with them.

Peter felt silly tearing up in the middle of Victoria’s Secret, so he pulled her into his arms and hid his face in her neck.

“Thank you. I needed to hear that,” he muttered, as she squeezed him a little tighter, before pushing him away.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all teary-eyed on me, come on, you’ll ruin my reputation.” She looked around, sniffing, then stuck her hands in her pockets. Peter laughed halfheartedly, drying the corner of his eyes. “C’mon, there are panties to be bought.”

They spent a couple of hours searching the store, but in the end he found the perfect set. He bought some other pieces, too, for his feed, people had been asking for lingerie a lot lately, after a slightly weird phase of cat ears and tails. Once they left Victoria’s Secret, Peter was nervous because he had to tell MJ at least part of the truth to get her help with the second part of Tony’s request.

“So, listen,” he started and she turned to him, happily sipping her large coffee as they walked down the street. “I have this subscriber. He’s, like, a rich, old dude who always sends me tips and stuff. Anyway, he gave me some money and asked me to buy something nice and pose for him, but like, not in a sexual way. He wants to see me clothed.” She frowned, staring at him suspiciously. “Um. I was wondering if you could help me with that?”

She was silent for a few seconds, just looking at him with narrowed eyes. He looked away discreetly, trying to avoid her mind-reading skills.

“Should I be worried?” She asked, finally. He shook his head and chuckled nervously, waving a hand dismissively.

“He’s harmless, just some lonely, old dude. So, will you help?” He looked at her expectantly. She was still frowning and definitely knew something was up, but she nodded anyway, to Peter’s relief.

“What do you have in mind?” MJ asked and resumed her stroll down the street, Peter had to jog a little to keep up.

“Something expensive and beautiful,” He quoted Tony, like an idiot, because he honestly had no idea what that meant.

“That’s oddly specific and somehow not helpful at all.” She lifted an eyebrow and looked around the busy street. “How expensive are we talking about?”

“I’m not sure. Very?” He answered nervously, and, yet again, she looked looked like she wanted to rip the truth out of him, but she also knew that was not the way to go with him.  

“How much did this guy give you?”

“Um. for – five thousand dollars.” He stuttered. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her the actual amount, because it sounded absolutely insane and she would worry unnecessarily.

“Holy shit!? Fuck, why aren’t I doing porn?!” She screeched and Peter hurried to put his hands over her mouth, because at least three people turned around to look at them.

“Don’t even joke about that, you hear me? You have a bright future ahead of you, don’t fuck it up,” he told her seriously and she looked like she wanted to argue just for the sake of being annoying, but something in the way he looked at her must have made her realize he meant it.

“Chill, I’m joking.” She patted his shoulder and looked away. “So. Five thousand dollars? We can work with that.”

He was a little scared of the weird gleam in her eyes, but followed her anyway.

They spent the rest of the afternoon shopping, it was a lot of fun and he even got her a pair of shoes she kept staring longingly at. She was worried they would go over the budget because she wanted him to save some of the money, but he assured her he could afford it. They managed to put together a great outfit that he was very confident about and then called Ned to meet them for dinner in the evening.

Later, they took the subway home and, for a while, he felt like a normal 20-year-old guy – happy, weightless and just a little heartbroken, like everyone was bound to be at some point in life. He was going to be okay, he realized. That thought hit him like a punch in the face and it felt fucking awesome.

He rested his head on Ned’s shoulder with a sigh of relief, feeling the warmth of MJ’s hand on his thigh.

It was around midnight when he got home, which for him was still a little early, he had developed the terrible habit of going to bed well after two in the morning – he blamed Tony, but to be fair, many of his subscribers were mostly active around that time as well. He debated whether or not he should start working on Tony’s requests, he was a little tired from a long day of walking around carrying bags, but also surprisingly eager to show the older man what he got for him.

He took the Victoria’s Secret bag and displayed the new outfit on the bed. It was a simple, but beautiful lingerie set. What Peter loved most about it was the fabric – it was made of deep red satin, smooth and glossy, and it felt simply amazing on the skin.

He decided to try it on, just to make sure it fit properly.

The top was a delicate bralette, two little triangles only big enough to hide his nipples and a little bit of his pecs. It was the perfect size for him, it sat flush with his skin, no unflattering cup gaps. The panties were tiny, Peter wasn’t too sure about those back in the store, he was worried not everything would fit in it. It did, but just barely, but it actually worked in his favor, in his humble opinion. Lastly, he put on the garter belt, which was just a thin piece of fabric that went around his waist, with two straps that hung down to clasp onto two elastic bands that went around his thighs.

Since Tony said red and gold, he also put on a thick, golden choker, just to see how it would look.

Once he was dressed, he went to check in the mirror. He bit his lower lip, running his hand over the fabric that covered his chest. It felt really smooth, and the way it brushed against his nipples sent shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes and imagined it was Tony’s hands on his body. They looked strong enough to hurt, but he imagined they would be gentle with him, as they traced a path from his collarbone to his neck, to wrap themselves around his throat – but not tight enough to choke him, just a promise.

He sighed, as if to check that he could still breath under the pressure, and slowly slid his hands down from his neck, brushing his hard nipples on their way down to the front of the panties – God, it was so smooth...

For some reason, he imagined Tony would be a gentle lover. Maybe it was the way he talked to him, always so charming, all sweetheart and baby, all praise and compliments. Maybe it was the way he never demanded anything, only asked nicely, all please and thank you.  

Tony wouldn’t ruin him, like he promised so many times in those last few weeks, he would fuck him long and slow, raspy voice whispering sweet praise in his ear, rough hands holding him down, hips snapping with each unrelenting thrust.

He bit his lips, knees buckling as he felt the front of the panties getting wet, while his leaking cock struggled to get free.

Well, then.

He grabbed his camera from the closet and positioned it on a tripod in front of the bed, just a few feet away, and programmed it to take pictures every five seconds. He sat on the bed, facing the camera, feet still on the floor, and just closed his eyes for a minute, letting a sigh escape his lips as the fantasy from before filled his mind again.

He spread his legs and his fingers reached down to the front of his panties again. His cock felt impossibly hard, straining against the delicate fabric, dark pink tip peeking out of over the top of the tiny underwear. He touched himself slowly, hips rocking lightly to match the pace of his own hand, as he listened to the clicks of the pictures being taken.

He had to force himself to stop, before he lost control, and moved to kneel on the bed, with his side facing the camera, and lowered his chest until it was touching the mattress, letting his back curve in a sinful arch, head turned to the side, staring right at the lens. At Tony. Imagining what he would do if he were there.

He sat back on his heels and turned his back to the camera, spreading his knees, each of his hands grabbing one ass cheek, pulling them apart, only a thin, barely there strip of fabric hiding his nakedness. He looked over his shoulder and waited for the camera to take at least a couple of pictures.

Next, he laid on his back, side facing the camera again, left hand rubbing one nipple over the silky fabric, as the right one reached down the front of the panties, to finally give himself some sort of relief. He let out an almost pained moan as he wrapped a hand around his cock, pumping it slowly, once, twice, but all that teasing was driving him a little insane.

He knew he should probably take a few more pictures, but he also knew wouldn’t last much longer.

He got off the bed and went to the dresser where he kept all of his “work stuff”. He grabbed a tube of lube and a vibrator that was neither too small, nor too big, it was a size Peter was comfortable with.

He switched the camera to video mode, pressed record and resumed his position on the bed, knees on the bed, holding his lower body up, and chest resting on the mattress. He squeezed a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, pushed the panties a little to the side and circled his hole gently, slowly, because that was how he imagined Tony would do it. Those big, rough hands would have grabbed him by the hips, put him in that exact position, before teasing him mercilessly.

He moaned quietly and closed his eyes, rubbing slow circles around his rim, pressing a little against his entrance, but not hard enough to breach it. He felt his cock pulsing, begging for attention, but he didn’t dare to touch it, not yet.

“Tony, please...” He whined, pushing his hips back against his own hand, he was so lost in his fantasy he almost forgot he didn’t need to beg. Almost. “I need you...”

Gently, he started pushing one finger inside, knuckle by knuckle, he was so aroused he barely felt the burn, just delicious pressure that made his eyes roll to the back of his head. He started fucking himself on his finger, feeling the muscles around it slowly make way.

“’Been thinking about you, Tony…” he rasped out, hips pushing back against his hand. “Can’t stop thinking ‘bout you...” When he felt loose enough, he pushed another finger inside, the stretch becoming a little more noticeable as he slowly scissored himself open. He got on all fours and turned his back to the camera to give Tony a better view, all spread out for him, and kept fucking himself, picking up the pace once just those two fingers weren’t enough. “Fuck, daddy, need you so bad...”

He eased the fingers out of himself, sighing at the loss, and reached for the vibrator that was sitting on the bed and turned to face the camera again. He knelt on the bed and, with one hand, he propped the vibrator up on the mattress, holding it down from behind him, as with the other hand he guided its tip to his already abused hole.

He flicked the switch and it vibrated to life, nudging against his hole before finally slipping in. Peter’s breath hitched at the intrusion, feeling the delicious burn on his lower back, as he moved his hips up and down slowly, trying to push more of it inside with each painful thrust.

“Fuck me, Tony,” he begged, as his free hand finally reached for his neglected cock, pumping it hard and fast, matching the maddening pace his hips set. He lost all sense of rhythm when he felt the tip of the vibrator finally – finally – reach his prostate and he pushed it even further in, until the pressure against the bundle of nerves became too much and he exploded in one of the best orgasms he had had in a long, long time. “Oh, f-fuck!” His vision went dark for a second as he let himself fall back on the bed, wasted.

He spent almost ten minutes just lying there, trying to catch his breath and regain consciousness. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like that, he was boneless, floaty, completely satisfied. It was honestly the best he felt in months.

When his legs stopped shaking, he got up and headed straight to the shower, still feeling a little dizzy and weak, but he wasn’t complaining.

Once he was finished, he debated whether he should just go to bed or send Tony what he had, but with the way he was feeling, he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep so easily. So decided to send at least the pictures right away, even though it was nearing 3AM. Peter knew Tony was probably up, the man did say that he was an insomniac and that he sometimes went days without any real sleep, so it wasn’t a surprise when he answered just a few minutes after Peter sent them.

“Holy fuck, Peter!!” Peter bit his lower lip, burying his face in the pillow to hide his blush, even though he was alone in his room.“What the fuck, baby, it’s three in the morning, are you trying to fucking kill me?!”

“So you like them?” He asked with feigned innocence.

“I fucking love them, you little tease, these are hands down my favorites yet. I swear I’m gonna have them framed and hung in my workshop and I’ll spend the rest of my fucking days just writing odes to you.” Peter giggled into the pillow, turning on his side to get more comfortable on the bed.

“I bet you say that to all the boys.” He joked lightly, blushing again, which was stupid, but he couldn’t help it.

“Fuck no! You’re something else, kitten, and you don’t even know it.” Peter suppressed a smile, biting his lower lip.

“Are you touching yourself right now, daddy?”

“To be honest, I’m so fucking hard I think I’m gonna come instantly if I even brush my fingers on my cock. I’m literally just staring at the pictures right now and worrying I’m gonna come untouched just from that.” Peter laid on his stomach and bit the pillow, gently rocking his hips against the bed.

“That’s so hot. Can I see it?”

Seconds later, there was a video in the chat. He played it immediately and, sure enough, Tony wasn’t kidding. His cock was rock hard, throbbing, the head was an angry purple, already glistening with pre-cum. Tony was just holding it at the base, not daring to touch it, and the whole thing almost made Peter hard again, but he was really exhausted.

“Fuck, daddy, I really wish I could help you with that.”

“Oh, you don’t even know what I wish.”

Tony didn’t say anything for a few minutes and Peter figured he had gone to sleep, but then his phone beeped, alerting him to another message from him. It was, of course, a picture of Tony’s spent cock, resting against his belly, which was covered in come, so much of it Peter’s mouth watered.

“Was it good, daddy?”

“The best, sweetheart. Thank you. I’m gonna sleep like a baby today.” Peter chuckled. Tony always said that was high praise coming from someone who hardly ever slept and the younger man took his word for it.

“Goodnight, Tony. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Looking forward to it, Pete.”

He knew he was fucked the second he tried to suppress a small smile, but couldn’t.

[tadashiwa]

nekoma boys reacting to you sending nudes for the first time

ALL CHARACTERS ARE OF AGE. 

karasuno part here!

warnings: mentions of nude images (obviously), sexting, mentions of cheating (kuroo (its your ex cheating on you)), insecurity

kenma kozume

kenma is a NIGHT OWL

like he stays up laaaate all the time

so if you text him at like 3am you know he’ll respond

one night you’re feeling h word

and i mean h word

you’ve given kenma head once and you’ve made out a few times but that’s all you’ve done in the sexual nature

so you don’t wanna overwhelm kenma but still you wanna treat your boy <3

so you put on one of his hoodies and kneel on your bedroom floor in front of your mirror n take a few cute pics and say you miss him to surprise him

and then he

SURPRISES YOU

and starts getting dirty

he on demon time 😈

you start blushing like crazy as he starts giving you instructions on how to play with yourself and how he’s gonna wreck you when you see him next

because baby he’s so attracted to you!!! he just didn’t wanna push you until you were ready <3

kuroo tetsurou

you had been in a relationship for a really long while but your now ex had cheated on you

which.... hurt

kuroo’s your best friend so you’re crying to him over the phone about how you don’t feel attractive

and kuroo’s had a crush on you for so long so he’s like $*%#$%^&%@(#&

baby he just wants to love you and show you how fucking attractive you are

so this dummy starts rambling about how beautiful you are and you anyone would be so lucky to be with you and how your ex is an idiot

and so you’re sad and feeling lonely and you trust kuroo and so you’re like. fuck it.

“kuroo, can i just like--can i send you hot pictures of me or something? i just want someone to tell me they’re hot and mean it, i don’t know, i just want--”

kuroo’s brain SHORT CIRCUITS

like oh my fucking god you’re the hottest person he knows and you’re offering him pictures of you just being hot has he died and gone to heaven--

so he gets all “oh my god yes--wait no! wait yes? only if you want to? yeah! if you want to! but don’t feel like you have to i just want you to feel comfortable--”

you assure him that you're okay with it <3 we love our respectful boys

you send him one of you kneeling in front of your mirror in a lingerie set and kuroo's ridiculously embarrassed of how hard he gets so quickly

he's losing his mind but he tries to be like "just as friends tho 🥴"

but then you ask him if he wants to come over and he's like god yes

lev haiba

he's had the longest day ever

like hes so exhausted and pissed off and he's texting you ranting

lev doesn't like when hes angry and neither do u!!! u wanna make him feel a little better

you're really the best partner in the world and lev doesn't even know how to thank you for being so amazing

hence why when you sent him a picture of you wearing nothing but one of his shirts he MELTS

hes like dude i was looking for that shirt

and then youre like wait r u mad—

and hes like NO NO NOT AT ALL

hes more than willing to sacrifice any of his shirts if it meant you sent pictures like that

his baby is just so pretty and so hot he's not sure how he got so lucky

he immediately forgets about how hard his day was and he just cannot wait to come over tomorrow

yamamoto

the way you killed him

LMAOASKAOAKAKSJ

like hes trying so hard to be chill abt it but like

youre SO HOT

hes like "wait that was meant for me???"

.....yes dummy youre dating

he simply thinks youre the most attractive person and the fact that youre into HIM????

how did he get so lucky

he's never been extremely insecure when it came to your relationship but the fact that like

you're so pretty and funny and sweet and you look like that out of your clothes and you chose him????

he cant believe it

he just loves you so much <3

soft boy i love him so much

yaku

so you and him were best friends and you've had a crush on him for the longest

you and him had kinda been talking about life and stuff and he's not giving himself enough credit

like he's never been the one in the friend group to get the most girls or guys and he thinks itd just be nice to experience that you know

you're listening like the good best friend you are but its breaking your fucking heart

can't he see how much you like him?!?!?!? gah

(he has a crush on you too but youre both Oblivious)

and then one day one of his old jerseys goes missing and hes like ???

but then that night you send him a picture of you in your mirror and you're wearing it and a pair of skin tight shorts that barely show from underneath the hem of his jersey

and oh my god

he's not sure if you know that he can see your nipples peaking out from underneath the fabric and he's just. a MESS

its not nudes per se but it does more to him than he'd ever care to admit

so when you ask if you can keep it hes like yes obviously

and he cannot stop blushing the next time he sees you

he <3

AHHH this was fun