#mixtape buzz

[theostrophywife]

mattheo's mixtape.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader.

song inspiration: lovesong by the cure.

author's note: this idea has been in my head for so long, but now it's finally out. strap in babes, we're simping for mattheo on main. something about those pretty brown eyes and angelic little curls just get me. your honor, i adore him.

The bell outside the door to the record store chimed softly as the boys ventured inside. Mattheo peered curiously at the buzzing neon sign, the slightly scuffed black and white vinyl floor, and the racks and racks of records lining the walls. Though he hadn’t been to the muggle side of Edinburgh, it didn’t look all that different from its magical counterpart.

Yet Mattheo felt like a fish out of water all the same. 

Behind him, Theo continued rambling as they perused the vast collection of records laid out before them. “What songs have you picked out? Is there a theme? We’ll need to collect all the tapes for the cassette recorder and compile them all into a single tape.” 

The slew of questions Theo threw his way was enough to make him feel overwhelmed. Mattheo was well aware that he was completely out of his depth here, but he was determined to learn. Admittedly, he was quite ignorant of the muggle world until you came into his life. The more you told him about the queer customs and traditions of the non-magical population, the more he began to crave your stories of taking the tube, eating fish and chips until you were sick, and visiting Brighton with your cousins over the summer holiday. 

There was a whole world out there that you were a part of, which made him want to be part of it as well.

“You boys alright?” asked the kind woman behind the counter. "Would you like some help?"

Mattheo shied away from the attention, but as usual, Theo turned on his charm and flashed a winning smile at the older woman. “As a matter of fact, we do,” his friend drawled. “My mate here is looking to make a mixtape for his girlfriend.” 

The woman smiled warmly. “How sweet. I remember those days. There’s nothing quite as magical as first love,” she said with a dreamy, faraway expression. “I’d be happy to help. What songs did you have in mind?” 

After turning over his list, the woman, who turned out to be the owner of the record store, helped compile the cassettes Mattheo needed in order to make the mixtape. She patiently showed them how to record each track and slowed down the instructions so Mattheo could diligently write down notes. 

As Mattheo waited for the next track to record, he watched as Theo tried and failed to flirt with the older woman. 

“I’m flattered, dear. But I’m old enough to be your mum.” Mattheo snickered, causing his best friend to glare at him. 

“Age is nothing but a number, Annette.” 

“You’re a persistent one, aren’t you? I’m sure you’ll find your match someday, Theodore. As I have in my husband, whom I’m happily married to.” She turned over to Mattheo and smiled. “He was my first love too.” 

Making small talk had never been Mattheo’s strong suit and you often teased him that engaging in polite conversation with a stranger every once in a while wouldn’t kill him. Without fail, he sarcastically responded that it genuinely might, which earned him an eye roll. A fond one, though. Followed by a lip bite as you attempted to conceal a smile. 

“How long have you been together?” Mattheo asked curiously. 

“Twenty years,” Annette answered proudly. “Though we were friends for ages before he finally mustered up the courage to ask me out.”

Theo snorted. “Sounds familiar.” 

Mattheo swatted the back of his head. “My girl and I started out as friends too. Best friends, actually.”

“Hey!” Theo whined. “I take offense to that. I’ve known you longer. Only difference is that you and Y/N snog, which I’m more than open to if you asked.” The wink he sent Mattheo's way made the other boy blanch.

“Sorry about him.” It was a sentiment he was quite familiar with when it came to Theo. The twat tended to flirt with anything that had a pulse. Come to think of it, he wouldn't put it past Theo to chat up a corpse. Merlin knows Mattheo had witnessed his friend trying out a pick up line on the Grey Lady. “So, your husband. When did you realize he was the one?” 

“There wasn’t a specific moment, per say,” Annette said thoughtfully. “It’s a culmination of our history together. Since we were friends for so long, Declan just knew me. He knew how I took my coffee and had it ready for me first thing in the morning. He knew that I hated driving in the snow and always offered to give me lift to work when it did. He knew that I had a soft spot for strays and never complained when I brought them home. Declan makes me feel safe. Like I could weather anything the world threw at me as long as he was by my side. I guess when you know, you know."  

Mattheo pondered her words. He couldn’t help but recall all the times that his life felt like a never ending shit storm, like it would swallow him whole and drown him from the weight of his troubles. Yet at the end of the day, he always knew that after the storm came the rainbow. That’s what you were for him. You colored his world so brightly that the dark seemed inconsequential compared to your light. 

“Y/N makes me feel like that too,” Mattheo declared. “She’s patient and kind. She’s the type of person that always sees the good in people. She saw it in me even when I couldn’t see it myself.” 

Behind him, Theo sniffled as he patted his shoulder. For all his jokes and sarcasm, his friend was actually a hopeless romantic deep down. “For Salazar’s sake, Mattheo. Don’t make me bawl like a baby in front of the pretty lady.” Theo wiped at the corner of his eyes rather dramatically. “If Y/N doesn’t marry you someday, then I will. I bet my legs would look amazing in a white dress.”

At that, Mattheo chuckled. He was suddenly glad that his best friend was more than willing to be dragged along in Mattheo’s endeavors to impress his girl. Salazar knew he never would've gotten this far without Theo's self-proclaimed expertise on all things muggle, thanks to his Advanced Muggle Studies class.

As they wrapped up, Mattheo thanked Annette for all her help. Theo promised to come back and winked over his shoulder as Mattheo gathered all of his supplies. The older woman smiled at him as they parted ways.

"Best of luck, Mattheo. Though I doubt you need it. Thank you for indulging an old woman. It was genuinely a pleasure to be able to help you today."

"No, thank you. Y/N is going to love it."

"Your girlfriend is a very lucky girl."

Mattheo shook his head. "I'm the lucky one. This is the least I could do to show her how much I..." he trailed off, trying to find the right words. "How much I care for her."

Care didn't seem like a strong enough word, but it was close. Mattheo wasn't sure he could fully verbalize the intensity of what he felt for you. You weren't just his girlfriend. You were his best friend, too. His confidante. His rock. You were everything to him.

“Remember what I told you. When you know, you know." She patted Mattheo's shoulder. "You talk about Y/N like I talk about my husband. It's clear that she's very special to you. Don't let go of that one."

Mattheo smiled to himself, his cheeks flushing. “I won't.” 

The midnight moon glowed above the Scottish Isles, enveloping the rocky shores of the Black Lake with a chilly breeze that made you shudder even underneath the comfort of your red and gold striped sweater. 

“Are you cold?” Mattheo asked softly, his voice echoing through the empty beach. 

Before you could respond, your boyfriend shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around your shoulders. With a shy smile, you thanked Mattheo and flushed as he took your hand in his. As you continued on your late night stroll, he cleared pebbles in your path to ensure that you didn’t trip over them on the way to the dock. 

It was the little things—the small gestures that Mattheo enacted on a daily basis that made you fall for him even more. Though the relationship was fairly new, the connection between you was undeniable. Perhaps because you started out as potions partners, which eventually blossomed into friendship and now you couldn’t even remember a time when he wasn’t part of your life. 

The two of you settled at the end of the dock and the rickety wood creaked underneath the weight, adjusting to its visitors as Mattheo cuddled you into his side. Warmth radiated off of him, heating you from the inside out with a pleasant flush. Mattheo chuckled as you shoved your cold hands underneath his sweater, curling his fingers around yours and warming you up like your own personal heater. 

“So, why did you want to come out here tonight?” you asked after a moment. 

As you peered up at him, the moonlight kissed your boyfriend’s features, illuminating the sharp edges of his jawline and cheekbones, curving down the slope of his nose and stopping right above his Cupid’s bow where his soft, plush lips curled into a shy smile as he blinked down at you. 

The flush on his cheeks was almost an exact match to the crimson scarf around your neck. He absentmindedly fidgeted with your fingers, his chocolate brown eyes flickering over your face nervously. Mattheo looked so shy and earnest, so unlike the bad boy persona that everyone else seemed to attribute to your boyfriend. 

“I made you something,” he stated. You watched as he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a cassette tape that you hadn’t noticed before. “I noticed that you listen to music while studying or walking through the halls, so I thought I’d compile a few of my favorite songs for you.” 

Your heart warmed at this beautiful boy. “You made me a mixtape?” 

Mattheo nodded, his angelic curls grazing his cheeks. “I can’t take all of the credit. Theo helped me quite a bit. I wasn’t sure how to make the tape for you, but he did since he’s taking Advanced Muggle Studies. We went into town last weekend and this lovely woman from the record shop showed us how to track and record the songs. I picked the ones that remind me of you the most.” 

You looked down at the cassette tape and smiled. The front was covered in little red hearts and spelled out in your boyfriend’s familiar scrawl was Matty’s Mixtape. As if that weren’t enough to make you swoon, underneath the tape was a small booklet with more of Mattheo’s handwriting. You smiled at his selection of songs. There was a mix of Queen, the Cure, the Clash, and of course, the Smiths. It was like having a little piece of Mattheo in your hands.

“I made you a booklet too. There’s a tracklist with reasons why I picked the songs,” Mattheo shuffled beside you, his body language conveying an uncharacteristic shyness. “I also drew a couple of things.” 

Sure enough, the booklet was filled with your boyfriend’s drawings. Your eyes filled with tears as you turned the pages. Mattheo rarely showed anyone his art. He was incredibly protective of anything he created since it showed a certain vulnerability. The fact that he was trusting you with it wasn’t something you took for granted. 

You traced over the drawings with a fond smile. There were portraits of you on one page, while the others contained memories that you were quite attached to. Your first date at the Three Broomsticks. The first time you wore his quidditch sweater to a Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw match. The day you shared a cup of hot chocolate at Madam Puddifoot’s when the two of you were just friends. They were all in here, immortalized on paper. 

Beside you, Mattheo watched anxiously as you flipped through the pages. When you got to the last one, you grinned up at him. “Matty, these are incredible.” 

“Really?” He asked, sounding a bit unsure. “You don’t think they’re cheesy?” 

“No, I love it!” You threw your arms around him and squeezed your boyfriend into a bear hug. He chuckled, burying his face in your hair and savoring the feel of you in his arms. As you pulled away to face him, Mattheo tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His heart hurt just to look at you. He really couldn’t believe you were his. You smiled softly. “And I love you.” 

You said it firmly, like it was a matter-of-fact. Like you were reciting a truth as fundamental as gravity. 

“You love me?” 

“I do,” you replied with a smile. “I love you, Mattheo Riddle.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely positive.” 

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to say it because I made you this mixtape and gave you cheesy drawings—”

He stopped mid-sentence as you grabbed his face with both hands. Mattheo softened at the fierce determination in your eyes. “Mattheo. You’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. Before that, you were the best friend I’ve ever had too. You treat me like a queen and I never have to worry about other girls trying to talk to you because you never even give them the time of day. You make me soup when I’m sick. You give me your jumpers when I’m cold. You bring me coffee when I’m pulling all nighters. I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend, so yes. I love you. Not because of the mixtape or the drawings, but because you’re you.”

Mattheo was taken aback. Before you, he never thought he was capable of caring for someone so deeply. You were ingrained in him. It was like the universe had cleaved his soul in two and he’d spent an eternity searching for you. You were his other half—the better half of him that he’d been missing all along. Now that he found you, he had no intention of letting you go. 

The lovestruck expression on his face warmed your heart. His eyes—those sweet, warm brown eyes made you feel weak in the knees. Mattheo cradled your jaw and looked at you like you were the only girl in the world. 

“I love you too, Y/N.” 

You smiled as he leaned forward, bringing your lips to his in a tender kiss. He sighed in relief like he’d been waiting for this all day, fingers snaking through your hair as your body melted into his. Mattheo hummed, peppering kisses all over your face. You giggled as he pecked your cheeks, nose, jaw, and neck. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he declared with every kiss. 

Burying your face into his neck, you inhaled the familiar scent of amber, cinnamon, and leather. Mattheo sighed as you scratched his scalp.

“Will you tell me about the songs while we listen to them?” you murmured against his skin. 

Mattheo nodded as his curls tickled your cheek. “Of course, sweetheart.”

He pulled out a cassette player and popped the tape in. You cuddled into his side, smiling as he presented you with one half of the headphones. The soft crooning sound of the Smiths filled your ears as Mattheo played with your hair, telling you little anecdotes about the band and how Theo almost knocked over the cassette recorder while he tried to flirt with the record shop owner. 

You chuckled as you listened, picking up the sweet lyrics that made Mattheo choose the songs in the first place. You loved each one of his picks, but the best song by far was the sound of his heartbeat thudding in your ears, syncing with your own as it beat for him and him alone.

[mariabtsos]

Nuts - ||k.nj||

Description: how had Namjoon ended up in this situation? What do you mean he had to actually make a connection instead of fucking your brains out?

Genre: Oneshot, Non-idol AU, Rapper!Namjoon x Makeup Artist f!reader, strangers-to-lovers, Too Hot To Handle inspired, SMUT SMUT SMUT!! Hopeful ending. 

Warnings: Namjoon is a bit of a player and full of himself, just smut overall with a hopefully balanced plot, eventually he’ll get back in touch with his feelings, this might be the longest oneshot I've written? Oral sex f receiving, fingering f receiving, grinding, slight exhibitionism.

Word Count: 8.5k+

Namjoon thought himself a reasonable person, horny, but reasonable. He never needed to go to extremes to get what he wanted, whether it be an artist he liked to feature on a song, or fuck the sexy girl that kept bringing champagne over to his table at club. She was leaning against the wall of some small maintenance closet, her back was arched as he pounded into her relentlessly.

Once they finished, he could tell she would want more, doing a not so subtle attempt at slipping her phone number into Namjoon’s back pocket. He smirked and walked out after fixing himself up, knowing full well this would be the last time he’d see her, Namjoon never came back for seconds once he had them. It was nothing against the women he slept with, he didn’t used to be this way, but a few instances of heartbreak and a toxic cycle of make up sex can lead one to denounce love all together and give into pure carnal desire.

Such was Namjoon’s case.

When he arrived at his table he noticed his manager, Jin, and his two best friends, Hoseok and Yoongi, did not receive him with the usual knowing smiles, granted, this time he hadn’t waited long to ditch them for some pussy. Namjoon usually gave it about an hour or two into an outing before temporarily or permanently leaving his friends, but he supposed tonight he really needed a quick fix.

“Why do y’all look like you’re mad at me?” he asked, taking a seat and picking at the chips and salsa that had been placed at the center of their table.

The VIP section of the club was nice, it had a great mix of different low and high-grade celebrities, Namjoon liked to think he was making his way up from the low end of the spectrum, now that he’d been picked up a small label and his mixtape would go from SoundCloud to mainstream platforms.

“We’ve barely been here for half an hour, Namjoon-ah,” Jin complained, holding the bridge of his nose between his index finger and his thumb, Namjoon just continued to stare at him confused. “Well, it’s not my fault, every time she was serving us drinks her tits were right there, and I don’t know if you noticed but they were beautifully proportioned,” he smiled cheekily.

His friends didn’t reciprocate it.

“The label signed you up for a reality show,” Jin stated bluntly, Namjoon almost thought he heard a record scratch, “why?”

“They think it’s good exposure for you,” the older shrugged, “plus it’s like a retreat, you get to stay in a villa with other people and you play games through the summer to win a cash prize.”

“Will I get to keep the cash prize when I win?” he asked, Yoongi and Hoseok sharing a look of annoyance at their friend’s cockiness.

Namjoon had never really been the cocky type, but once his mixtapes and albums started getting hundreds of thousands of streams, and girls seemed to follow him like bees in search of honey, he’d seemed to have his feet a little too far off the ground, and it got worse once he was signed to the label.

“The label is considering it if you create enough buzz around yourself.”

“Well then, I guess I have my work cut out for me,” he smiled, dimples on full display.

You kept refreshing your email every minute, you needed this opportunity, you needed this. It had been your dream since becoming a makeup artist to open your own salon. You were tired of taking clients in the small living room of your studio apartment.

You had been looking for an investor for months when you finally found one that had been interested in your business. He had arranged an interview with you and had asked for a portfolio of your work, just to see what you offered would be worth what you were asking, everything in the interview suggested it was. You were told to wait about a week for them to get back to you, and now that it had been a couple days after the week mark you were starting to get nervous.

The notification sound of a new email made your heart start to race.

From: Hwang Jongdae

Subject: Investment on 2!3! Beauty Salon

Good morning, miss Yn,

After careful consideration of your proposal, we have unfortunately decided that we will not move forward…

You didn’t need to read the rest of the lengthy email, you slammed your laptop shut, immediately reaching for your phone to call your sister, tears inevitably escaped your eyes as soon as she picked up your call.

“Ynie what’s wrong?” She asked, her face showing immediate concern. You explained the situation to her through sobs and snot.

“I don’t know what to do!”

“You could come out with me and Danbi, we are going to the club tonight, maybe you’ll find some rich drunk guy that will invest in your salon.”

You were apprehensive at first, but in the end here you were, in the middle of a night club making somewhat conversation with some guy who’d long taken off his suit jacket and tie, you weren’t planning on anything, you just wanted to someone to converse with since your sister and her girlfriend had ditched you to go dancing.

It wasn’t your fault you had ended up outside making out. You were just sad and needed some cheering up, making out with a stranger sounded like a quick fix, and maybe you’d get a room somewhere and you could enjoy the brief happiness that came with having a one night stand

“Well, I think, your story could make for great reality TV,” his speech was slightly slurred as he pulled away, a sign that the glass he was somehow still holding was definitely not one of the first ones he’d had tonight, “I’m casting this…um…competition show, you get to spend the summer in a pretty villa with pretty people and play games, you can win a SHIT load of money,” he kept leaning toward you, you had to hold back the urge to puke as his breath reeked of alcohol.

You were interested as soon as he mentioned money, you didn’t care what kind of competition it was, you would do anything to make your dream into reality, even if it meant participating in some stupid TV show and dealing with dumb people.

Namjoon was a bit upset about giving up his phone the night before their first day of shooting, but this retreat was meant to be a place where he could disconnect entirely. Which wasn’t an entirely bad idea, the past few weeks was mainly a lot of paperwork and filming his intro for the show, apparently, he’d be the “first to arrive.”

He was happy to see champagne set up on a hightop table, he served himself a glass and waited, other guys started showing up, and then the girls started showing up as well, and to say he was pleasantly surprised was an understatement, all the women were beautiful and when you walked in? 

Namjoon quickly knew that you'd be his target.

He was immediately attracted to you, for a moment he really thought that whoever was up there, if there was anyone, must've put you right there, you were exactly the type he went for when he looked for a quick lay. You were wearing a full body bathing suit, given that the villa was at a beachfront, like shows like these often were. Your hair was down in what he assumed was its natural form, and your make up accentuated your face's features beautifully.

The rest of the girls immediately went to greet you, while the men just stared and spoke amongst themselves about who they liked, it was mostly varied answers. The six girls were the stereotypical body type you’d see in shows like these, although some were definitely on the curvier side, all from different places, the guys were pretty much the same, all well built and mouth-watering.

“Okay so to catch you up to speed…um” one of the girls spoke.

“Yn”

“Right, we have all been scanning the boys and let me tell you, it’s going to be a bloodbath,” she chuckled, as did all the others. She introduced herself as Andrea, and the other girls introduced themselves shortly after.

They walked you over to where the high-tops were, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t notice the way the beautiful dragon-eyed man was devouring you with his gaze, and regardless of your small cover-up skirt and your full body bathing suit, you felt very much naked and aroused. If his gaze alone could do that, what could he do to you?. You had no time to calm your racing heart as he approached, his tall frame towered over you.

“Hey,” his voice sounded like honey, “my name is Namjoon, what’s yours?” he wasn’t subtle at all with the way his eyes trailed up and down your body.

“Yn,” you held your hand out to him “nice to meet you Namjoon,” he took it, bringing your knuckles up to his lips to kiss, you quickly took your hand away.

“What, you don’t like chivalry?”

“You don’t seem like the type to do it genuinely,” you admitted.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong.”

Your neck was hurting badly, you didn’t realize how close he’d gotten to you, making his stature much more than what you had initially suspected. Namjoon enjoyed the vertical advantage, as it gave him a perfect view to your tits, so beautiful and round, he could feel himself slowly harden, he was ready to tell you to come with him to one of the rooms so you could act upon it, when the host of the show finally showed up.

“Hello guys!” he was a beautiful man as well, did this show only look for good looking people? The producer you’d met said you’d be with pretty people, but this was another level, what a major boost to your ego. “I’m Taehyung, welcome Games in Paradise!” Everyone cheered and clapped as the host gave a pretty boxy smile, “you’ll spend the rest of your summer here, where if you succeed with our challenges, you will win a fantastic prize! Your first challenge will be announced later on by the beach, please explore your home for the next two months and enjoy!” Cheers erupted from the small group again, and everyone dispersed after Taehyung walked away.

And explore you did, the villa was huge, it came fully equipped with everything one could only dream of having. The kitchen was fully stocked with a bunch of fancy appliances for your convenience, the bathrooms were gorgeous and came with both a standing shower and a bathtub, the sleeping area had six queen sized beds and nightstands were full of things to make all the sex everyone was planning on having more enjoyable, from condoms to toys, to lube; a few rooms were locked and you weren’t sure why, but no one really cared, considering everyone starting breaking off into duos and small groups to start enjoying their time there.

(T-4 hours)

Andrea, and yourself were enjoying sun-tanning on the lounge chairs right in front of the pool, your cover-ups long gone as your asses in full display as you laid on your stomach. You were reading a book you had picked out of the villa’s small bookcase, while your newly found friend had her eyes closed.

“So, you and Namjoon huh?” she spoke, you looked up to see her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose as she stared at you suggestively. “He’s hot as fuck, anyone here would stupid not to be turned on by his mere sight,” you shrugged.

“The way he was looking at you I thought he was going to fuck you right then and there!” she giggled. You sighed in response and went back to reading your book, mainly to distract yourself from the godly man you’d met, and the many things you wished he’d do to you, so your wetness wouldn’t ruin your favorite swimsuit.

Namjoon was watching you from far away, two of the guys he’d met on either side of him also watching the girls they so badly wanted. Namjoon would enjoy his time here, whether it was with you, or someone who offered to help with his urges sooner. “Okay,” he stood up from his spot, “y’all can enjoy staring and not touching, I’m going in,” he started walking off when he felt a smack in his ass, surely from Jimin, one of the guys he’d been seating with, and his newest friend.

As he walked down to the lounge chairs he noticed someone else taking your friend away, leaving you alone.

Perfect, no interruptions, he thought.

“Hello again,” greeted you once he was close enough to you, he sat down at the spot your friend was previously laying on, his eyes shamelessly enjoying the view of your ass.

“If we still had our phones I’d tell you to take a picture,” you quipped, Namjoon looked back to your face and found you had been staring at him, he flushed slightly at being caught, but got himself together fairly quickly.

“Can you blame me when you have such a wonderful ass?” he chuckled, his dimples in full display which only made him more attractive in your eyes. The silence wasn’t awkward, but it was definitely filled with tension, you took off your sunglasses, a small smirk on your face “I bet you’d love to fuck it wouldn’t you?”

Namjoon wasn’t expecting such a bold response. He choked on his own saliva and got into a coughing fit as he heard you cackle loudly. When it finally subsided, he noticed you’d left, leaving a water bottle at his feet and a note on the lounge chair you had been seated on not so long ago.

Meet me in the sleeping area ;)

(T- 30 minutes)

There truly was no way of explaining your current predicament. How had you ended up like this so quickly? It was truly all a blur.

All you knew was that you were straddling Namjoon, dry-humping his erection over his swimming trunks, and making out ferociously.

Namjoon felt his dick getting impossibly stiff as you rubbed your pussy against it, your moans swallowed by his lips as he put his tongue down your throat. He played with your tits, massaging one of the mounds with one hand and holding your ass with another. “Can I pull down the straps?” he groaned as you moved to kiss him behind his ear and down his sharp jawline; you managed to muster a pathetic ‘mmhmm’ and you felt your nipples brushing against his chest and then being pinched and rolled between Namjoon’s thumb and index finger.

“Your body is so gorgeous,” he complimented before putting the breast he was playing with in his mouth, making you arch your back and moan as he sucked and licked it to his heart’s content. When he released your breast from his mouth he slowly dragged his hand down to your core, expertly moving your swimsuit aside and using his thumb to rub your already sensitive bundle of nerves, “fuck!” you moaned, he then moved his hand so that his thumb continued to rub your clit as he inserted his finger inside of you, “so wet for me,” he added another, “so tight,” and another “can’t wait to fuck this slick, tight pussy until you can’t walk” his fingers curved deliciously against your walls and you could feel the coil of pleasure tightening inside you.

“Take off your pants,” you managed to plead.

“Hmm?”

“Take off your pants, please, I want to rid-”

“Hello,” a robotic voice interrupted your pleas, scaring you so badly you almost ended up falling off of Namjoons lap. He gently took his fingers out of you and fixed up your swimsuit just in case someone was about to walk in. “Who the fuck is there?!” Namjoon asked sternly, carefully moving you off his lap.

“My name is Lana,” that’s when you finally noticed the small cone on top of a decorative table. “I hope you are enjoying the retreat, please head down to the palapa, it should be next to the place you arrived at today.”

You and Namjoon stared at each other, having a mental conversation on whether you actually wanted to or not, ultimately going back to making out. Namjoon wanted you so badly, and the stupid Lana robot had definitely not made him any harder, but he was sure he’d be back to it once you guys got back in the mood.

“Hurry up, lovebirds.” Lana’s robotic timbre interrupted them yet again, making you fall backwards on the bed “ugh!” You complained, “Let’s go before she becomes more of a buzz kill.”

You sat next to Namjoon, his arm was around your shoulders. You saw Andrea sitting among some of the girls, one of them in particular, Jihee you thought was her name, was throwing daggers at you with her eyes. All you could do was give her a tight-lipped smile, looking away from her as the small cone that had scared you earlier slowly rose up on a platform in the middle of the table.

“Hello, contestants,” her multicolored light blinked as she spoke, “I have gathered information during this first day of the retreat.” Everyone looked at each other, in a very ‘what the fuck’ kind of way because up until she spoke, you had thought her to be a very fancy diffuser, “it has been most insightful.”

“What the fuck does she mean?” Andrea spoke up.

“The purpose of the retreat is to have you create deep, meaningful, emotional connections, instead of the meaningless flings you’ve all been having.”

“So… have platonic relationships with women?” Jimin looked confused, he didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

“To incentivize you not to do this, I have set the prize money to one-hundred thousand dollars.”

‘Oh my god’s’ were spread out through the group, as they all talked about what that amount of money could do for them, you opened up to Namjoon and Andrea who were the people sitting closest to you, “that money could definitely get me my salon!”

“You’re a hairdresser?” Andrea asked.

“Makeup artist, but I’m planning on having a full service salon,” you smiled sweetly, Namjoon found the sparkle in your eye somewhat endearing when you talked about your dream, but, he couldn’t let himself dwell on it for long, he wanted a good lay, not a deep connection, deep connections had only caused him pain.

“However,” Lana interrupted the group’s chatter, “there are conditions to your stay in order to win the prize,” you hoped the collective complaint wasn’t missed on the small cone, although you were sure it was, it was a robot after all.

“There will be no kissing.”

Your eyes widened, as did most of the groups. “Well, she only said kissing right?” Jihee said.

“No heavy petting.” 

“This is fucking stupid,” Daniel, one of the guys Namjoon had been hanging out with spoke.

“No sex of any kind, this includes self-gratification,” the chorus of what’s and no’s that broke out from the group were immediate, and you felt regretful, if you had cut to the chase sooner you could’ve gotten a really good dicking from Namjoon, and now you were all going to be blue balled.

Or were you?

(Day 2)

You woke up the next morning comfy, you and Namjoon decided you would share a bed, and his muscular arms held you tightly, and you felt protected in a way. You hadn’t been one for cuddling in a long time, not since your last relationship almost 4 years ago. It had ended quite tumultuously, especially due to its toxic and suffocating nature. It was mainly why you had one night stands, you didn’t have to cuddle if you didn’t want to, you could just leave right after.

You also didn’t miss Namjoon’s morning wood against your ass, no one was awake yet aside from you, so you decided to be a little risky and pretend like you were adjusting yourself, only to rub up on Namjoon’s dick some more. His grip tightened at your hips, you felt his breath against your ear as he groaned.

“You better stop that, or I’ll fuck you just like this,” he whispered, you could feel yourself getting slick at his words, how badly you wanted him follow through. “Don’t you want the money?” you whispered back, doing your best to hold your moans as he grinded against your ass, “Lana is a dumb fucking robot, how will she know?”

Fuck it.

That’s how you ended up with your shorts and underwear halfway down your legs, and with Namjoon’s fingers deep in your pussy, just like last night. You were biting your pillow and doing your best to hold back your moans. “You ready for me baby?”

Best you could do was reach back and touch him, you wanted to keep quiet just in case someone heard you. He slowly teased your entrance with the tip of his cock, you had yet to see it but when it breached you, you could tell he was thick, and as he slowly fed himself into your pussy, it was ten times harder to stay quiet. Yup. He was definitely big. 

He fucked you slowly, and he had to hold himself back as well, your pussy felt so good and it almost felt like you sucked him in deeper with every thrust, he wanted to rail you, to make you scream and moan so that everyone knew just how good he fuck you. “You’re taking my cock so well,” he praised you, causing you to clench harder on him, “if you keep doing that I’m going to cum,” you answered, “why don’t you hmm? Maybe I’ll pump full of my cum too, and make you keep it in so no one knows what we did,” he bit your earlobe and you almost moaned out loud. The coil in your stomach snapped, and your back arched from the pleasure the beautiful man behind you was giving you, it wasn’t long before he came as well, and just like he said, you were filled to the brim.

After your morning shower and getting yourself ready, you were out and about with the girls hanging out in the pool, it was a hot, sunny day, and you were having fun hanging out with the gals.

“Were you okay this morning, Yn? I thought I kept hearing moan?” Jihee asked, making the rest of the girls turn to you. You and Namjoon had agreed to not tell anyone about your little escapade this morning. “I was having a really bad nightmare, I’m sorry,” you smiled apologetically.

Jihee didn’t seem to believe you, meanwhile the other girls rushed to ensure you were okay, they kept asking what your nightmare was about, thankfully, before the show you’d have a really bad one, so you used that one for your story, they didn’t know it wasn’t recent. However, you didn’t miss the angry looks from Jihee, but you didn’t have much time to dwell on it, as the guys came over to the pool to get you, stating that Lana had called for you all to go to the palapa.

You sat next to Namjoon again, who placed his arm on the armrest behind you. You were staring off, not really setting your eyes on one thing until they landed on his thighs. They were so thick and muscular, you wondered what riding them felt like, perhaps that could be the next thing you and Namjoon sneaked off to do.

“Hello, contestants,” the small cone in the middle of the table spoke, everyone greeted it back. “It has come to my attention someone may have broken the rules,” everyone stared around, except for Namjoon, who was playing with the leftover fabric of the headband you were wearing.

“No one’s done anything Lana,” Jimin stated.

“My cameras picked up movement and audio last night, are you sure?” The girls stared at you so quick you were worried they would break their necks, “Yn? You said you had a bad nightmare last night didn’t you?” Jihee’s voice was laced with cattiness, and you felt a slight tug to your headband.

“My cameras picked Namjoon, speaking also.”

“Her nightmare sounded pretty bad, I was whispering in her ear to calm her down, nothing happened,” the way he lied so effortlessly made you feel weird, and you remembered why you’d been single for so long, you didn’t want to be in another situation where you were gaslighted and lied to.

You were grateful that you had kept your movement so slow and subtle.

“Just a warning, if you are found breaking the rules, depending on what you do, you will lose money.”

All hell broke loose then.

(Day 14)

You had managed to go this far without you or Namjoon making a single sexual move, and it was killing him not being able to plow you like he wanted to. It was good because you weren’t the first to lose the group money, Daniel and Jihee were surprisingly the firsts to do so, Jihee had given head to Daniel twice in one day, losing twelve thousand dollars. Later on, Andrea and Jimin kissed a few times, losing six thousand dollars.

Namjoon thought that building an emotional connection was dumb, he’d done that before, and each time it ended in a heartbreak worse than the last, his most recent relationship being what made him swear off on relationships. The girl he had dated was someone he’d loved, he’d do everything for her, every song was for her, any money made from his music went to both his and her bills, he almost dropped his best friends for her. 

And then he found out she’d been cheating on him all along.

It absolutely broke him, he couldn’t understand why he wasn’t good enough, he’d always been a gentleman, he would spoil her, love her, why wasn’t that enough? 

He didn’t care anymore, when he had an urge he would go to the clubs, or even after a gig he would pull a fan he found hot and he would fuck them until he was satisfied, leaving shortly after, or if he was craving something more intimate he would cuddle them after for a little while, no deep conversation, no sob stories shared, no number exchange. No strings attached. It was the only way not to get hurt.

You were so nice, such a good fuck. He almost wished you had met a few years before, then again would he have looked your way? He always seemed to be dating women who only wanted him for his money, women who never appreciated the little things. You did. He’d made you coffee this morning, using the keurig in the kitchen because he knew he would burn the villa down if he did it like some of the others were making it. He did it because you had become somewhat friends, sexual tension aside, your conversations were great, even if they were forced at first to distract you both from how badly you wanted the other, maybe he’d leave this with you as a good friend. All the girls cooed at the nice gesture, and Namjoon visibly cringed “it’s just fucking coffee it doesn’t mean anything.”

Oh, how those words hurt you.

You had unfortunately developed a crush for the rapper. He was so incredibly smart, he had such wisdom and insight, and his face card was crazy. You had felt horny the first few days, after your small rendezvous, but that subsided once you had more and more conversations, you really like his brain. However, how you felt didn’t matter, he didn’t want you like that, you were someone he fucked once and that he wants to fuck again, nothing more, nothing less. So, maybe it was a good thing that new players came into the scene.

Lana announced them, and it wasn’t long before you spotted them walking down the beach, two men. Both men were absolutely ripped, one of them had a full sleeve and piercings, making you salivate at the sight, the other didn’t have any tattoos, but he had a somewhat big nose and a beautiful smile. When they arrived they quickly introduced themselves as Christopher and Jungkook. The latter seemed to have immediately set an eye on you as he immediately started conversing with you and tried to get to know you better. You and the others had to explain the rules to the newcomers, they weren’t exactly thrilled, but they got over somewhat quickly.

“Ynie, do you want to go talk somewhere else alone?” the doe-eyed man asked, and how could you say no to that pretty smirk. Namjoon didn’t really like it as he saw you walk away with the younger man.

“You can’t talk to her the way you did this morning and expect her not to move on,” Andrea spoke, Jimin giggled next to her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t care,” he clarified, making your friend roll her eyes.

“Attention, contestants,” Lana’s voice broke through the various conversations, “there will be a special event happening near the garden tomorrow, please go there in the morning.”

“What’s in it for us anyway?” Chris spoke up.

“The person who shows the most progress and success will win a date with a person of their choosing,” now that changes things.

(Day 15)

Without words. That’s what the workshop was called.

Lana had paired all of you up, and you had ended up being paired with Jungkook, whilst Namjoon was paired with Jihee. Namjoon wasn’t one to be possessive of the people he fucked, but it wasn’t that he fucked you before, you were his friend, and Jungkook seemed like he was up to no good, what with the big deceitful doe eyes.

You were excited though, it was a fresh start for you, maybe Jungkook will be able to give you that deep emotional connection you were supposed to look for. You hadn’t wanted it at first, but your growing feelings for Namjoon along with all the workshops you had done so far helped you realize that. This one in particular had two stages, the first one was picking up on your partner’s body language. You had to go for a hug with Jungkook showing a specific emotion, and he would have to guess it later, that emotion was excitement.

Once Lana gave you the go, you ran toward the pretty man and hopped on him, wrapping your legs around him. He quickly caught you, wrapping one arm around you and using his other hand to hold one of your legs up, you both were so giggly, and everyone in the group could tell you were enjoying each other’s company. Namjoon was hugging Jihee but he wasn’t putting that much effort in it, he was watching you and Jungkook, and the stupid shit eating grin he had whilst you hugged. How badly he wanted to be the one you had your legs wrapped around, he was getting a little upset at how long you were hugging this newcomer for, considering everyone had stopped except for you two.

“We don’t have all day!” Namjoon remarked, his tone was bitter. You didn’t realize you had embraced Jungkook for so long, you had connected a lot during his first day, you talked until the high hours of the night, so you felt good with him, it was easy. You let go and walked back, whispering I’m sorry’s to the group for the hold up. “The next stage is soul gazing, you will stare at your partner in silence, it encourages you to see and connect with your partner on a deeper emotional level,” Lana said.

The silence of everyone was quite comfortable, and watching Jungkook you felt such warmth and kindness emanating from him, and you also saw him tear up a bit. “You have a beautiful soul Ynie,” he admitted, and like the Grinch, you felt your heart grow three sizes from those words. Namjoon, however, was seething, who the hell is guy anyway, why is he making you swoon all the sudden? It was bullshit, absolute bullshit. After the workshop was finally over, Lana announced the winner, you.

“Yn, who do you choose to go on this date with,” the little cone asked, and everyone’s eyes were on you. The expectations were skewed, some were expecting you to pick Namjoon, and some were expecting you to pick Jungkook based on the past two days alone.

“Jungkook,” he had the prettiest smile, “wanna go on this date with me?”

“Yes!” He was very enthusiastic, giving you a quick side hug, the girls rushed to your side to help you get ready.

Namjoon was with the guys as they all watched Jungkook getting ready, he wasn’t very excited about the prospect of you going on a date with someone, he wanted you all for himself to enjoy and he couldn’t have that if you went with Jungkook. He heard Jimin giggling, noticing he’d been staring at him this whole time. “What?”

“Good thing you don’t have laser vision, poor Jungkookie would be dead if you did,” he continued to chuckle.

“I’m not even looking at him.”

“Give me a fucking break hyung, it’s obvious you are jealous of the guy, I mean just today’s workshop alone shows that,” Jimin explained, “if you like Yn you should shoot your shot.”

Did Namjoon like you? I mean he was definitely not repulsed by you, you were a smart, pretty girl. But how would he know you wouldn't use him? Sure you didn't seem like you would but what about when you were out in the real world?

“I'll be back,” Jungkook had a big grin on his face, “wish me luck!”

As Namjoon watched the youngest out of the men walk out, he decided he would get dressed himself, and get his frustration out with the punching bag at their designated workout area. Watching as he met you at the door to the villa. You were wearing a simple gray summer dress and it complimented your skin tone beautifully.

Jungkook was a little confused on why Namjoon was so adamantly upset at him, but he couldn’t worry about him right now, not when he was so excited to see you. You were incredibly nice to him when he arrived, and your conversation had been so wonderful when he’d pulled you aside. You talked about so many things, where you were from, what you did for work, what your goals were.

“I’m a tattoo artist! I’ve drawn most of the pieces I’ve gotten done,” he took off the shirt he was wearing, the white tank top underneath being the only thing keeping you from seeing his abs. His sleeve was beautiful, so incredibly colorful and full of life, he explained most of his tattoos, including the ones that were meant as cover-ups for others. Your eyes got lost in the way his muscles flexed as they trailed up his arm, eventually your gaze ended up meeting his.

He had stars in his eyes, and his smile seemed so incredibly genuine, he cocked his head to the side as he stared at you, “can I ask you something?” you nodded, “do you and Namjoon hyung have something going on? I don’t want to move forward with pursuing you if you are not available,” the question left you a bit stunned and you thought it through before deciding to trust Jungkook with the truth.

“We’ve had some serious sexual tension since we got here,” you admitted, “no one knows this but we actually fucked on our second night here,” the pretty man in front of you deflated a bit, and then it seemed to hit him, “so, not even the weird cone thing knows?”

“I mean she probably knows now,” you chuckled humorlessly. “Anyway, after that we agreed not to tell anyone, and we started building a friendship, I started sort of catching feelings, and I thought he was too, he would do little nice things for me, and then say something mean after,” you sighed, “so I’m not sure about him as person.”

Jungkook was a great listener, he stayed quiet and gave you his undivided attention the entire time you were talking, and now he sat pensive, looking up at the stars as he tried to come up with something to tell you, “I think you are really cool, Yn, and I think you deserve someone who will want you in every way, not just because you’re stunning” you blushed slightly at his words, “I would love to get to know you better and explore something with you, but if you want Namjoon that badly, then I don’t want to get hurt, going after girls who are emotionally unavailable or attached to someone else is exactly why I’ve become a man whore.”

You were shocked at his candor and honesty, but it endeared you to him and made you envy him. Why couldn’t you have your shit together? Why were your boundaries so unclear? Worst of all, a pretty guy who had treated you with nothing but respect wanted you… but your feelings for Namjoon were more, from the small coffee offering to conversations he would have with you about books you both had read, to deep conversations about each other’s life.

“You are a good person Jungkook.”

“But I’m not the kind of person you want.” You gave him a saddened smile, “I’m fine with being your friend Ynie, you are a good person too, and in time Namjoon will realize it too,” the night continued on with so much laughter, Jungkook felt like a long lost friend, and you were happy that life had brought him to you.

Namjoon was not happy. The people in the villa watched as he beat the absolute shit out of the punching bag in front of him, his jaw was clenched, and his mind was playing all the possibilities of what may happen on your date with Jungkook.

Did you do any of the things you'd done with him? Did you kiss him? Did you like him? Will you come back with a stronger connection and leave him to rot?

If you did he wouldn't blame you, he deserves every one of those things, especially after the way he'd treated you, all hot and cold. It truly isn't his fault, so many strings of wrong relationships, with the last one being a constant cycle of toxicity and gaslighting, which Namjoon can now admit he was a part of. Him and his last partner weren't good for each other, but they loved each other so intensely they didn't want to let go.

Love hard, hurt harder, you know?

He heard your unmistakable laughter along with his, and he started punching his bag harder. How long had he been standing here punching this poor bag? He didn't care, currently he was imagining Jungkook’s head on a stake.

“Namjoon?” Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts, he turned his gaze toward, whilst still in a punching stance, “can we talk?” Namjoon straightened up at that. He kinda liked the way you were checking how sweaty his body was, he didn't like your sudden frown however.

“Your knuckles are bleeding.” 

Were they? Surely he wasn't punching the bag that long that hard. But when he pulled up his hands to look at the damage he couldn't help but cackle.

“I guess they are.”

“Why don't you go take care of them and then we can talk, hmm?” You gave him a tight, close-lipped smile.

Fuck no.

There was no way he was letting you leave after you were the reason he'd been punching this bag, not when he'd spent the last however long wondering, overthinking, what you and Jungkook would possibly be doing. There was simply no way. It was almost a reflex the way his hand wrapped around your wrist, you barely had time to look at him before he pulled you away to a secluded corner of the villa, cornering you against the wall with both of his arms caging you in, droplets of sweat all over his body. 

It was crazy, the way your body seemed to respond so quickly to him, he heard the small whimper, and saw how you put your legs together, and fuck sake the way you were looking at him was like you were begging him to…

He wanted to do this right though. He moved away slightly, giving you some space to breathe, “what'd you wanna talk about Yn?”

“My date with Jungkook went well,” okay maybe not what he was expecting.

“Good for you?”

“I think we'll be great friends, him and I,” Namjoon suddenly felt himself taking a deep breath of relief. “Really?” The space he'd given you was gone again.

He hoped you could see just how affected he also was by you, how his own dick was stirring, having your body so close, having you so close. You must’ve sat there staring at each other for a few minutes, Namjoon’s gaze going back and forth between your lips and your eyes, there was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to do to you, with you. He leaned in slowly, your height difference making him bend down slightly, your eyes fluttered shut and he stopped just close enough that your noses were brushing together, you were so beautiful. Before you could ask him what was taking him so long he connected your lips in a delicious, passionate kiss, your tongues explored each other’s mouths and your hands held onto his shoulders.

Namjoon was the first to pull away, only to move his kisses down to your jaw and eventually your neck, causing you to let out little moans, they were the prettiest sound to Namjoon. He found himself reaching for the shorts you had worn under your gray dress, “may I take these off?” he asked, his eyes hooded and filled with want, all you could do was let out a pathetically high-pitched ‘yes’. He hooked his thumbs at the waistband, dragging your underwear down with it, he watched them pool at your feet and then knelt down, “is this okay?” you felt his breath against your center, making you squirm slightly.

“Yes.”

He dove right in, licking the length of your slit, groaning at how aroused you were and he had barely done anything to you. He moved on to your clit, wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucking gently, causing your moans to become slightly louder, “you gotta keep quiet for me baby,” he instructed you when he briefly pulled away to catch his breath, the sight of the lower half of his face glistening with your wetness making you almost want to orgasm right then. He started eating you out again, this time adding his fingers to the mix, and you had to cover your mouth to make sure your moans wouldn’t be heard all over the villa. You felt yourself closer and closer to your climax and Namjoon could too, your walls squeezed his fingers tightly almost as if wanting to keep them prisoner, and he wanted nothing more than to replace them with his cock, especially because it was so painfully hard. You wanted that too, you wanted nothing more than for this to go all the way, but you felt that in order for what you wanted to work, things had to be different.

“Namjoon, stop” he immediately moved away from you, gently removing his fingers. You took a moment to catch your breath, as he slowly pulled up your shorts and underwear and fixed your dress for you, “did I hurt you?” he asked, holding your hips, looking genuinely concerned at your sudden request. He had an almost boyish charm when this side of him was shown to you, so sweet, so gentleman-like, why would he not be like this always?

“No, I just,” you sighed, putting your hands on his chest, “I like you Namjoon, I would like for us to try and get to know each other, for us to get the chance to see if this could go anywhere, but I’m not sure if that’s what you want, and I need to know, because I don’t want to be pining for someone that just wants me for sex.”

Your confession surprised him, he hadn’t thought that all your conversations and your sexual tension would lead to anything more than maybe a friends with benefits kind of situation. However, considering how he's been reacting to the possibility of you and Jungkook together, maybe he did want to explore more.

“I'd love to get to know you more Ynie,” he flashed his dimpled smile at you, and you felt your heart fluttering. Jumping into his arms for a hug in which Namjoon made sure to hold you extra tight. Maybe this was the beginning of his healing.

(Day 27)

The rest of the stay at the villa was great for you two, Namjoon was so very thoughtful, he made you fresh coffee every morning, and you guys had a reading date every afternoon, where you shared the big love seat by the pool, laying back on his chest as he held whatever book you were reading in front of both of you.

People weren't too happy once Lana deducted the money for your offense after your date with Jungkook, and they were even more distraught when they found out what shenanigans you'd been up to on your second night there, you had lost them so much money the price money was down to forty-five thousand dollars. Jihee almost jumped you, thankfully Jungkook was there to hold her back. Speaking of, you ended up having another girl show up, a sweet blonde named Maddie who immediately caught Jungkook’s attention. It was great seeing your friend happy. You guys would have chats by the pool when you got a chance and update each other on the happenings of your relationships. 

Lana had also been a bit more liberal by giving you all bracelets, when they lit up you’d be allowed to kiss the other person, this would only happen if your emotional connection had been proven to strong and genuine.

Although you and Namjoon were still very much in the eyes of everyone, “getting to know each other,” that would all change three days before you left the villa. You honestly had no clue when he had the time, but when Lana announced you were going on a date with Namjoon, everyone seemed to be beaming at the idea. He told you to dress nice. So you opted for a two-piece white set, with a loose halter top, white loose shorts, and wedges. Turns out you were going on a boat ride.

“Oh my god Joon,” you beamed as he helped you sit down at the front of the boat, where an assortment of sushi was waiting for you. You sailed along, enjoying the sun on your skin, and the beautiful man that kept feeding you sushi, especially since even if he tried to show you how to use chopsticks you still couldn’t keep the sushi in your grasp for long. You talked some more about life, and you ended up opening up to one another.

“My last relationship was like, three years ago,” he started, “she basically only wanted me for my money, but I didn’t really notice, I just wanted to love and be loved, and I thought that I was being good, I spoiled her, gave her everything and she still cheated on me, so I swore off relationships and became a man-whore,” he chuckled bitterly. “My last relationship was four years ago, it was very toxic, he basically made me feel bad for not always wanting to be on his dick, or because I spent time with my friends and not him, he went around telling everyone our business but always left out how awful he was to me.” You had been staring at the horizon, the sun slowly setting bringing golden hour to you.

“Eventually when we broke up, he tried getting back together with me, and when I said no, he started shit-talking my friends and myself, and all I could do was watch as they got tired of dealing with me and my drama, so now I only had my sister to rely on,” you felt Namjoon’s hand on your cheek, he watched with sorrowful expression, “you were crying.”

“I swore off relationships after that too, I have never felt more alone than during that time, and I didn’t want to feel like that again.”

“I know at first I didn’t do the best job at not making you feel that way, but I hope I can help you feel less lonely,” Namjoon said, still caressing your cheeks, you felt your wrist vibrate, seeing the big green checkmark on your watch, Namjoon had the same. You were ready to lean in to kiss him, but he stopped you.

“Before we kiss,” he started, “getting to know you has been amazing, I find myself learning some much about myself and slowly coming back to who I was before all the bullshit. I want us to be real, I want to go back to the real world and make it work with you, would you be my girlfriend Ynie?” Your cheeks hurt from how wide you were smiling, you never really thought of yourself getting back into a relationship, you had sworn you were too damaged for something like that, but maybe this was the start to your healing. “I want to make it work in the real world too, I’d love to be your girlfriend,” his dimpled smile gave you butterflies, and as his other hand reached your cheek to fully cup your face, he closed the space between you with a kiss that had been different from the ones before, the others were hungry, desperate, and horny, this one was slow, passionate, and breath-taking. You felt your wrist vibrate again, making you pull away much to your dismay.

“I’m excited for the outside world together,” his gaze was sweet and soft, something you had never seen. He laid back, opening his arms up so you could cuddle.

“Me too,” you smiled, quickly moving your picnic stuff out of the way and scooting over, you laid your head on his chest, you heard his heart beating so fast and so loud, “your heart is about to beat out of your chest,” you giggled.

“I was so fucking nervous,” you looked up at him, “but I am happy I think, hopefully we’ll make it through.”

Fingers crossed.

[judasofsuburbia]

something something middle school steve trying to form a crush on somebody because it seems like everybody has crushes. he tries some girls in his grade but loses interest quickly for silly reasons.

then, at lunch, he sees a girl with long brown curly hair and forehead bangs in a leather jacket, head ducked and legs pulled up to her chest. she must be an eighth grader because steve’s never seen her before. she’s headbanging to the music coming out of her headphones and is sitting all by herself. she doesn’t dress like girls in his grade. she’s rougher, edgier. steve likes this. it makes his stomach swoop.

she’s way across the cafeteria so he can’t make out a lot of her features but he decides leather girl is his new crush.

he never points her out to his friends. he wants to keep her to himself. doesn’t want tommy or anybody else sweeping her up.

not that he actually makes any moves to talk to her. no, instead, he stares from across the cafeteria every day and tries to figure out something new about her.

steve thinks it’s funny the way she picks the skin off her apple slices, eats the skin, and then eats the slice.

she usually gets two milks bc she pockets one of them. a bad girl, steve thinks giddily. she always waits until the bell rings to chug both of them which is odd but entertaining.

she has pins on her jacket that steve assumes are bands. no other girls really talk about bands outside of the beatles. leather girl doesn’t scream beatles fan to steve. he wonders if they like any of the same bands.

he makes up little scenarios in his head of walking up there and handing her a mixtape and the two of them sitting very close so they can both listen out of her headphones.

he throws away notes he writes her because they all sound lame. he also doesn’t know where her locker is. or what her homeroom is to send her candy grams on holidays. or even her name.

this all proves to be a challenge. so he gets comfortable with just admiring her from afar.

one day, he’s seating himself at the table with tommy and them when he hears boys from the football team shouting things like “finally, the freak got rid of the stupid hair!” and “how’s that breeze feel, munson? finally feel like a man?”

steve whips his head around to see the boys towering over leather girl’s table. only…it’s not leather girl. or, it is but all of her hair is gone. buzzed to her scalp. there are tears running down her face and steve realizes his mistake.

he wasn’t crushing on a mysterious eighth grade girl. no, he was crushing on eddie munson.

whom he’d never actually seen but heard a lot of nasty things about.

his stomach feels like it drops to the floor. he can no longer hear the ridicule or general noise of the cafeteria because his ears are ringing. he finally had a crush and he still messed it up. steve felt shame riddle through his body so he abruptly got up and went to the boy’s bathroom for the rest of lunch.

as the bell rang, steve couldn’t get himself to move from the stall he was hiding in. he knows he would get in trouble if one of the hall monitors found him but his body remains frozen. the door opens and steve holds his breath. steve sees white sneakers underneath the door and immediately, he knows it’s leather girl…no, fuck. it’s eddie.

eddie is stomping around, grumbling about his stupid dad and how he looks ugly now, obviously not realizing there is another person in the bathroom. steve hears sniffles and his heart breaks. tentatively, steve gets up and opens the stall door. eddie jumps and clutches the sink behind him.

his eyes are brown, steve thinks. and really pretty.

“jesus, kid, shouldn’t you be in class?” eddie rasps.

“shouldn’t you?” steve retorts, defensively.

“touche,” eddie deadpans. he wipes his tears furiously and sticks his head into the sink to splash water onto his face. steve observes quietly, finally seeing all the features he’s been staring at for months in full detail.

eddie pats his face down with a paper towel and notices steve is still there.

“do you want something?” eddie seethes.

steve chews on the inside of his cheek. he knows he can’t be crushing on a boy. still, even without the beautiful curls, eddie makes his heartbeat faster. he’s still so beautiful. he doesn’t want to go to class anymore.

“have you ever been to the football bleachers?” steve asks.

eddie narrows his eyes. “uh yeah, who hasn’t?”

steve stands up a little taller and tries again. “no, like, the concession stand. when there’s not a game going on.”

“no…” eddie gestures for steve to get to his point.

“i know how to get inside. there are snacks and sodas in there. they never notice a couple missing,” steve smiles as he feels more rebellious sharing this information. “i don’t know if you wanna…”

eddie raises an amused eyebrow. “play hookey?”

steve nods excitedly. he loves the way eddie grins in response.

“lead the way, kid.”

and if steve’s first kiss is a few weeks later by a pair of clumsy, sour candy tasting lips, he’ll never tell.

and if steve gets caught that day and gets detention through the end of the school year, it’s totally worth it.

because eddie is right there with him. crushing on him too.

[kaylasficrecs]

mattheo riddle recs

this love | drabble, fluff | @wordsarelife

if i can't have you baby | one shot, fluff | @earthgirl616

sacred space | drabble, fluff, comfort | @bettymylove

softened touch | drabble, fluff | @sadembryhours

mattheo's girl | imagine, flangst | @happilykrispypirate

don't touch her | imagine, flangst | @happilykrispypirate

nightly terrors | drabble, fluff, comfort | @crvptidgf

bloodstained petals | imagine, angst | @happilykrispypirate

please | drabble, angst | @happilykrispypirate

we got that love, the crazy kind | imagine, flangst | @ash-whimsicalfanfic

don't fucking touch her again | imagine, flangst | @remusslove

envelope | imagine, flangst | @suugarbabe

king of my heart | au, one shot, fluff | @dreamcubed

yes, really | drabble, fluff | @ageofstarkey

just friends | imagine, fluff | @suugarbabe

soft glow | drabble, fluff | @ageofstarkey

focus on me | imagine, smut | @azrielscrown

sleeping after an argument | drabble, flangst | @vipwinnie

chicken noodle soup | one shot, fluff | @azrielscrown

willow | imagine, fluff | @wordsarelife

did you smell me too? | drabble, fluff | @riddlemenott

all i wanted | imagine, fluff | @kestisvrse

unexpected | au, one shot, fluff | @suugarbabe

black quill | imagine, flangst | @multific

poor thing | imagine, fluff, comfort | @ageofstarkey

cold nights | drabble, soft fluff | @berryzxx

beg for me | series | @slytherinslut0

birthday buzz | one shot, fluff (some angst) | @lilyrachelcassidy

the lion and the snake | imagine, flangst | @multific

can't move on | one shot, flangst | @0luv9

for you | imagine, flangst | @mrsbarnesblog

kiss me again | one shot, fluff | @adiraargent

can i...? | one shot, fluff | @thatdammchickennugget

cuddly and touchy mattheo | imagine, fluff | deactivated blog

invisible string | one shot, trifecta (fluff/smut/angst) | @kelstey

lover | two shot, fluff | @suugarbabe

white xmas | one shot, fluff (slight angst) | @writingsbychlo

brother's best friend | one shot, fluff | @pizzaapeteer

confess | imagine, fluff | @kelstey

can you wash my hair for me? | imagine, flangst (comfort!) | deactivated blog

apocalypse | imagine, flangst | @sadnymi

bookworm reader | drabble, fluff | @blondwhxrewrites

laying on the couch | imagine, fluff | @bookishdreamer28

mixtape | one shot, fluff | @aligned-starz

i can fix him (no really i can) | imagine, fluff | @thestarsarebrightertonight

heart on my sleeve | one shot, fluff | @theostrophywife

hearts reclaimed | imagine, flangst | @girllblogging777

the missing piece | imagine, flangst | @girllblogging777

the strongest weapon | imagine, angst | @rosesareredrosa

can't catch me now | one shot, angst (slight fluff) | @unmarlou

[hemmingsleclerc]

A proud bf ┃Charles Leclerc

Charles had just finished a grueling day of training at the Austin Circuit. While resting in the comfort of his part of the Ferrari garage, he decided to relax by browsing his social networks. Little did he know that a video was about to capture his attention and turn his evening into a whirlwind of excitement.

While Charles was absentmindedly scrolling through Instagram, he came across a post from his girlfriend, Y/N. The title intrigued him: "Had a great time on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon 🌟 Showdown #Mixtape Medley." Charles clicked on the video link and his eyes widened as Y/N's familiar face appeared on the screen.

The video showed Y/N on stage, facing off against Kelly Clarkson in a friendly competition called Mixtape Medley. Jimmy Fallon, with his characteristic charisma, introduced the contestants and generated expectation. The crowd cheered as the focus shifted between the singers, their voices weaving through the air as they .

''Ok, so here is how Mixtape Medley Showdown works'' Jimmy said ''I'm gonna spin the wheel and you're gonna get the title of a mixtape that you're gonna have to go back and forth singing a medley of those songs''

To Charles' amazement, Y/N's performance was nothing short of spectacular. Her voice resonated with a power and emotion that captivated the audience, singing songs by Cher, Celine Dion among other great artists. The tension in the room reached its climax when the winner was announced and, to the surprise of no one (except, perhaps, Charles himself), Y/N emerged victorious, earning a standing ovation from the audience along with one from Kelly and Jimmy.

Overwhelmed with pride, Charles couldn't contain his excitement. He immediately grabbed his phone and called Y/N, who was still buzzing with adrenaline from the show.

"Hey, Charlie!" she answered, her voice filled with joy.

"My love!, that was incredible! I can't believe you won! You were amazing! I'm so so proud of you, I can't stop watching the video!" Charles exclaimed, his enthusiasm contagious.

Laughing, Y/N replied, "I'm so glad you enjoyed it, babe. It was such a fun experience.I didn't think I was going to win!"

Unable to contain his excitement, Charles decided to share the news with his mates. He ran to his close friend Sebastian Vettel's room and walked through the door with a smile on his face.

"Seb! You won't believe what just happened! Y/N was on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon, and she won a singing contest!" Charles exclaimed, barely pausing for breath.

Sebastian, amused by Charles' animated demeanor, replied, "Really? That's fantastic! I didn't know she could sing like that. You must be a proud boyfriend."

"Oh, I am! You have no idea. I've been watching the video on repeat. She was phenomenal!" Charles gushed.

Word quickly spread through the paddock about Y/N's triumph, and soon, other drivers were joining the conversation. Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, and Daniel Ricciardo were all eager to congratulate Charles on his talented girlfriend.

The atmosphere in the paddock transformed into a celebration, with the drivers watching videos of Y/N's concert that Charles had taken, and one or another of them making fun of him when they heard comments from him towards his girlfriend.

As the night wore on, Charles couldn't help but revel in the unexpected joy that Y/N's performance had brought to the Formula 1 community and how very proud he was to have that girl as his girlfriend and to be able to call her his.

charles_leclerc

Liked by ynln, maxverstappen and 1,593,694 others

charles_leclerc Check out the new video of my wonderful girl on The Tonight Show with Jimmy!

username ''my girl'' 🥺

username he's so bf coded stop

username WE SUPPORT A PROUD BF

[momotonescreaming]

Teenage Dream - Part 4

AKA - the Jeff and Eddie have crushes on jocks series Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Jeff let his body sag as soon as he shut his bedroom door behind him, relaxing against the wood, hard and smooth behind his back. Tossing his bag in the general direction of his desk, not caring where it lands, and flopping over his bed. Still in his jeans and leather jacket, not caring in the moment.

He was finally alone.

No one watching him, no one judging him, he was finally free to relax. To think, and to feel, and to let his wandering mind loop back to Chrissy. She had talked to him. Had borrowed a pen and learnt his name. It felt impossible, a meet-cute from one of those rom-coms his mom watches. She was cute, and was right there. It felt like the start. A change. Something new. It only took until his senior year.

Even if it didn’t lead to anything — Chrissy talking to him — it still happened. The head cheerleader acknowledged him, talked to him, and was kind. She didn’t sneer, or call him a freak, or call him the wrong name. Chrissy wouldn’t, she would never — but the fear was there. Of course it was. They came from very different worlds.

Sighing, sounding entirely too wistful about it, Jeff is tempted to just continue laying there. Melt into his mattress, denim and leather digging into his skin, mind wandering. Let all the energy seep out of his body. But he knows that if he doesn’t get up now, he never will, and wearing his leather jacket to bed is going to kill his muscles. The buckles digging into his skin in the most uncomfortable places.

So he gets up, grunting at the effort, taking off his jacket and swinging it over the back of his desk chair. Lets the momentum carry him to the pile of semi-clean washing he has dumped on the floor by his laundry basket, kicks off his jeans and changes into a pair of grey sweatpants.

Absently wonders if Chrissy would let him drape his jacket over her shoulders, to keep her warm. Smelling of leather and cologne and very faintly of weed. Of Jeff. Like a distorted letterman jacket.

And then Jeff’s standing in the centre of his room, alone, sighing into the stagnant air. There’s no way that’ll ever happen. Dust swirling through the room like little cyclones, twisting and floating around him like thoughts of Chrissy.

He wanted to keep it to himself, his meeting with her, but now it all feels a little too much. The silence ringing in his ears. Buzzing under his skin. Itching and clawing its way out.  Sighing, breaking the silence, Jeff goes to sort through his tapes. If he’s going to lose his shit thinking of Chrissy, at least he won’t do it in silence.

Flips through them, focusing on the sound of the plastic cases clicking together as he decides. Eventually settles on a Dio tape — one he had bought on a trip to Bloomington with Eddie. Puts the tape in his stereo, listening to the familiar sounds of the machine, as it clicks the tape on.

Lets the sound of Stand Up and Shout wash over him, as he flops back onto his bed. Laying askew, feet hanging off the edge and his head resting below his pillow. Whatever. Good enough.

The music is familiar, easy, washes through him and scratching that itch in his brain in a way that other music didn’t quite achieve. The guitar, the drums, the speed, the energy. The slow shit, modern ballads and all that was just noise. Didn’t hit quite the same. Didn’t fill the empty spaces in his brain. Each to their own, but metal was something else.

What does Chrissy listen to, Jeff wonders. Does she listen to pop, new wave, does she venture in to rock? Does she have favourite bands, sounds she can’t get enough of? Or does she listen to whatever’s on the radio? Does music move her the way it does Jeff? Or is it just something to kill the silence. What does she listen to when she works out? Does she strap on a walkman as she goes for a run?

If Jeff made her a mixtape, would she listen to it? Would she try and see what Jeff sees? Would it make her think of him?

He’d include a lot of the more chill metal songs, he thinks, ease her into it. Songs with melodic instrumental sections. A sick guitar riff so he could brag that he learnt how to play it by ear. Songs about community, and of finding yourself. Songs that hit Jeff to his very core. Songs about love.

He hasn’t wanted to admit that to himself, say that word — love. It feels strong, too much, but the emotions swirling in Jeff’s chest feel too strong for just like. It wasn’t just a passing fancy, thinking she was cute, or hot, or nice to look at. She was kind, and sweet, and Jeff was falling into infatuation. He wanted to date her, to hold her, to give her flowers and watch her cheer. He wanted to make her a mix tape and introduce her to metal.

Gareth once said that if your crush got an ugly haircut, and you still liked them — it was love. If your crush got an ugly haircut and the feelings faded away — it was just a a crush. Just like.

If Chrissy dyed her hair green and shaved half of it off he’d still think she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. It wasn’t just her looks (hot as she was), but her personality too. In the library she was nice to him. She smiles and waves at people. Compliments them. She was like no other.

So yes, Jeff thought she was hot, but he was trying so hard to be normal about it. Trying not to drool over her like those skeezy jocks from the wrestling team. Trying not to let his thoughts stray into territory it couldn’t come back from. She was taken. She had a boyfriend, who she loved — if their interactions around Hawkins High were anything to go by.

She blows Jason kisses from across the hall, she holds his hand as they walk through the parking lot, he holds open doors for him and she giggles.

The perfect couple. Couldn’t be Jeff, as much as Eddie tries to hype him up about it. High School is only the start, yes. Teenage relationships don’t always last, yes. But cheerleaders don’t dump their popular jock boyfriends for DnD nerds in metal bands.

He’d go to college, meet some jock girl there who doesn’t look past him, and that’s when his life would start. Him and Eddie, getting out of Hawkins. Finding people who liked them back. Because who was Jeff kidding, his type wasn’t nerds. It was jocks, and preps, and girls who were everything he wasn’t. At least Eddie was in the same boat. Made it better, knowing he wasn’t alone.

That while he was sighing over Chrissy in her cheerleading skirt, Eddie was drooling over Steve Harrington in his basketball uniform. That while he was daydreaming about holding doors open for Chrissy, about walking through Hawkins hand in hand — Eddie was dreaming about being wined and dined by Harrington, about flowers, and being swept up into his arms.

The pair of them, absolutely pathetic. Sighing, Jeff gets up to turn the tape over. Flops back down on his bed, continuing to ignore bis bag thrown onto the floor, on the homework he needs to do. He really can’t be bothered. He’s got time, he rationalises, he’s fine. He can do it in his free period tomorrow. Chrissy won’t sit with him again, he’s not that lucky. He can sit down at his same table, and work. Churn through his worksheets, draft his English essay.

So now what. He could listen to more of his tapes, try not to think about the songs he’d pick out for a mixtape. He could pick up his guitar, practice, run through songs to clear his mind of thoughts of her.

Or, he considers. He could call Eddie. See if he’s home.

He thought he wanted to keep this to himself, something special, just for him — but Jeff feels like he’s loosing his mind a little bit. He can’t stop thinking about her and he feels ridiculous. Like a hopeless romantic. A horny teen. A pathetic nerd.

Maybe talking about it will help. Quiet his mind, clear his thoughts.

He does have his own phone in his room. He’s an adult now, he said, and his dad had agreed. He needed that little bit of privacy. Security. Space just for him to talk with his friends without being interrupted. And thankfully his mom had agreed with his dad, in the end. Considering how much both his parents used the phone — and how annoying his shithead younger brothers were about it — the private line was needed.

Jeff did not want to talk about crushes, and sex, and Eddie’s big gay crush where his family could hear.

Fuck, he’s calling Eddie, isn’t he. Dialling the Munson’s number entirely on instinct, Jeff picks the phone off his bedside table and adjusts his position on his bed so he’s not tangled in the cord. He listens to the phone ringing in his ear, and tries not to fidget with the cable, stretching it out.

“Munson,” A gruff voice answers, cutting off the ringing of the phone.

“Hey Uncle Wayne,” Jeff greets the older man, hearing him scoff a laugh down the phone. He’d been calling him for as long as he’s known Eddie. The man didn’t seem to mind, and Eddie himself thought it was hilarious, so Jeff kept doing it.  Calling him just Wayne felt weird. Mr Munson even weirder. So Uncle Wayne it was. “Is Eddie in?”

“Sure is,” Wayne replies, voice deep but humour evident even through the tinny phone speakers. “I’ll grab ‘im for ya.”

He assumes Wayne puts the phone down, or holds it away from his face as Jeff can faintly hear Wayne call out for Eddie. It sounds like he’s yelling through the trailer. Or over Eddie’s loud music. Probably is. Speaking of — Jeff leans off his bed to turn the volume down on his stereo. “Boy! Jeff’s on the phone.”

A rustling, a mumbling noise, and then Eddie is breathing into the phone. “Now what can I do for you, my dear Jeffrey.”

“Role reversal,” He replies, manoeuvring himself back down onto his bed. “I’m the one losing my shit today.”

“Damn,” Eddie replies, and Jeff can tell he’s smiling, even through the phone. Eddie has always been expressive — physically, verbally, emotionally — and Jeff had known him long enough that he was confident in his ability to read his best friend. “Already? Let me get comfy then.”

He huffs a laugh, an exhale of air directly down the speaker, and listens to the sounds of Eddie getting comfy, rustling papers, the screech of a chair against lino floor. He’s sat right at the trailer’s little dining table, right across from the kitchen. Always piled high with coupons and letters and other odds and ends the Munson’s hadn’t sorted through yet. It was nice, knowing exactly where he was, knowing that he knew him that well.

Eddie lets out a noise of satisfaction as he sits down, like he’s just taken a drink of ice cold water on a hot day. Jeff snorts as Eddie continues. “Now lay it on me, Jeffster, why are you losing your shit?”

“So you know how I go to the library in my free period?” He starts, laying the scene. Rustling his sheets as he props himself up on his bed.

“Like a total nerd, yes,” Eddie says immediately, although Jeff can tell he’s joking. Can hear it in his voice.

“Says the guy on his third senior year,” Jeff jokes back, entirely without malice. He hears Eddie bark a laugh, as he continues. “But anyway, it was crazy busy for whatever reason and I heard someone ask if they could sit with me because I was at the only empty table, and…”

Jeff lets the words drag off. Plays up the drama, the suspense. He wouldn’t consider himself a dramatic person, not all that outgoing, but Eddie brought it out in him. Made him braver. More willing to put on the act. Fake it ‘til you make it.

“And?” Eddie prompts, dragging out the word.

“And it was Chrissy Cunningham.” Jeff finishes, and he can feel himself smiling. Cheeks flushing, lips pulling back over his braces.

Eddie fucking shouts down the phone, not moving it away from his face to muffle the sound any, and Jeff just laughs. Absently wonders if Wayne is listening in. Can hear Eddie shouting. He probably can. He’s probably used to it.

“No fucking way dude,” Eddie replies, practically giddy with it. Jeff can hear the squeak of the chair underneath him. Can easily picture Eddie rocking in place, smiling like a demon, perched with one leg up on the chair, leaning on the table. "You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“No shit!” Jeff replies, laughing along with Eddie. “She sat at my table the whole period. Right across from me.”

“I told you! I fucking told you!” He replies. “Did I not fucking tell you?”

“You did in fact tell me.” Jeff sighs, knowing he was going to admit that Eddie was right and he was going to be so insufferable about it. He quickly continues before Eddie could say anything else. “But it’s not going anywhere, so calm down. She’s taken.”

“I will not calm down.” Eddie adds, still giddy. “This is a big moment for freaks like us. Was she nice? Did she know your name? Come on man, enjoy it. Embrace it.”

A pause, silence, as Jeff breathes down the phone before continuing. “She was super nice. She was kind, and looked cute when she giggled. Didn’t know my name though, I had to introduce myself.”

“Well they can’t all be winners,” Eddie comments, grunting as he shifted position. “Five bucks says Harrington doesn’t know my name either.”

“You know what,” Jeff replies, thinking it over. “I’ll take that bet. Henderson has absolutely mentioned you to Harrington before. If they really are as close as he says they are. He’s gotta have told him he was going to Hellfire with you.”

“Oh it’s on, Jeffward.” Eddie says. “Money on the table, shake hands, it’s on.”

Part Five

Tag List @goosesister @scarlet-malfoy @mavernanche @manda-panda-monium @yoriposts @grtwdsmwhr @panicatthediaz @m-owo-n

[highvern]

Track 9: Feature Me - Flo

“He's got me actin' like I'm some kind of animal // The way he looks at me, I don't feel like a girl no more”

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!Reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: Katoptronophilia, exhibitionism, pussy slapping, Mingyu is a huge tease, brat!reader, fantasy of choking, sex toys (vibrator)

Length: ~800

Note: i know i said this came out tomorrow but this is my world and i do what i want! also i wrote this before nana tour revealed shirtless gyu with a chain but now that that's out there im down stupendously (as if I wasn't already)

Like, comment, reblog, enjoy!

Mixtape Series: Me & You Masterlist

main masterlist

This blog is intended for 18+ only! MDNI or you'll be blocked!

“I told you to watch.” Mingyu rasps in your ear, free hand harsh against your chin as he drags your head back up.

The mirror resting against the wall across from your bed frames a scene of complete debauchery. Mingyu’s head just visible over your shoulder, captivated with every jump of your tummy and gasp of breath as he forces the pink vibrator against your clit on the highest setting; encouraging him to force your legs wider to enjoy the show.

Mingyu loved watching you touch yourself, loved having you watch him touch himself, and most of all loved touching you. So why not combine all those things and put on a performance worthy of a never-to-be invited audience?

Not an hour ago you’d been embarrassed. Batting away your boyfriend's hands as Mingyu recounted the video he found on Twitter. Whispering how hot you'd look spread out for him, practically begging for you to let him get you off in front of the mirror he already moved from the hallway to the corner of the bedroom.

And now you sit, completely naked while he remains fully clothed underneath you, the stiff material of his jeans rubbing your bare skin raw each time you squirmed in his arms, your knees hitched on the outsides of his thighs, preventing any sort of shyness at his affection.

“Please, Gyu,” you gasp, drool leaking down your chin as his arms flex with effort to keep you still.

Ignoring your request, Mingyu angles the vibrator just so; leaving your chest caving and muscles ripped tight. “Need it so bad, don’t you pretty girl? Just look at you humping my hand.”

“Say that like—shit!— you aren’t about to cream your pants.” You bite back.

A stinging slap to your pussy nearly sends you to the floor, hips bucking into the contact. The now forgotten vibrator buzzes across the carpet while Mingyu harshly swipes against your clit. 

“Aww, baby.” Mingyu tuts. “Be nice.”

Voice cracking, you goad him again. “Or what?”

Another slap answered with a sob and Mingyu smiles over your shoulder, pinching your chin between his fingers and forcing your head to turn towards his. You can feel the residual dampness from earlier smear across your jaw and your boyfriend delights in the mess; eyes igniting with glee that only spells trouble for you. 

“Wanna come?”

Whine as he brushes his nose against your own, his mouth just out of reach causing you to warble with protest. Your back shakes with Mingyu's laughter at the pathetic state you’ve melted into, turning your head back to the mirror.

You’re a mess; eyes red and watering and body glistening with sweat. And where Mingyu works you is no better; blossoming pink around the thumb abusing your swollen bundle of nerves, your opening sucking up his fingers eagerly.

“Please!” 

You don’t know what you’re begging for. Maybe to finish like this on his fingers; maybe for him to unzip his pants, slip his cock inside, and have you ride him; maybe for the hand gripping your chin to dip to your neck and giving a loving squeeze while he lavishes you in praise. 

But Mingyu knows exactly what you need.

The inside of your thighs burn with warning, both of Mingyu's strong hands dropping to get you to the end. Your thighs attempt to shutter close at the shock but the man behind you forces you wide open to drink in everything.

A third finger joins the other two curling against that place inside you and Mingyu's ears ring with the guttural moan they press from your lips. Vision black, your soul flees into the abyss in an effort to preserve your sanity because Mingyu doesn’t stop. Even when you thrash in his lap, his teeth and hands force you in place, making you take what he offers freely.

It isn't until the blood returns to your brain that you find the strength to bat away the hand still wedged between your thighs.

“Shhhhit,” you gasp.

Mingyu’s lips stretch into a smile. Pampering reverent kisses anywhere within reach while you catch your breath. He silently adores the way you melt in his hold, mouth slack and eyes dropping.

“Good?”

With a final peck to his lip you begin your descent. Sinking onto boneless knees, Mingyu follows you with confused eyes, eyebrows furrowed as you unzip his jeans. Arching your back, you know he can see the remnants of your orgasm dripping onto the floor beneath you if he took the time to look up. But he's trained on your doe eyes and the shrinking distance between your mouth and his cock and misses the motion of your free hand cradling the long forgotten vibrator.

Mingyu's so sensitive he nearly knees you in the tit when you press it to the underside of his leaking tip with a sadistic smile.

“Eyes on the mirror, baby.”

-

Taglist: @tomodachiii @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @cvpidyunho

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[linnamonrolls0]

The Winner Takes It All

LMM!Hermes x Reader

Summary:

“devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes what doesn’t kill me makes me want you more…”

You accidentally find your way into the Lotus Casino, where a certain Greek god takes a keen interest in a game of poker, a sweet deal, and… you.

Rating: Mature

Words: 4,480

A/N:

I wasn’t gonna write this… until I saw some hater saying they’d [redacted] if they saw a LMM!Hermes x Reader fic show up - so naturally, being the disastrous Lin simp that I am, I HAD TO DO IT. After all, learning from the best in proving the naysayers wrong…

A lot of this was written pre-episode, allow it with a few inconsistencies and a lot of research-induced additions!

Mixtape... bloop - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6v2ZfRamJRh8eP6qOqz4ND

Chapter 1: When The Chips Are Down

Contrary to popular belief, apparently it is possible to get lost in Las Vegas.

You were only strolling the Strip with a group of friends on the last day of your whirlwind vacation, but soon enough you found yourself at a dead end, unsure of what turn you’d even taken to get there. 

Hoping to locate a restroom and some means of connectivity to contact your friends, you beelined for the nearest building, flashily labelled the Lotus Hotel and Casino: upon glancing upward, you were met with the sight of a forty-storey tower, with a wide open entrance marked by a blooming neon-bright lotus flower in front of you. It was the sort of place you would expect to be buzzing with life, but oddly enough nary a soul lingered by the shining silver doors; just stillness and silence, save for the muffled music pounding from somewhere inside.

Though you felt overwhelmingly uneasy, that entrance carried a strange magnetism that compelled you to step inside. Something that suggested all your fear would be put to rest the moment you walked through those doors… or into that flower, at least.

You tucked your hands under your sleeves and drew in a deep breath, before you crossed the petalled threshold into an opulent lobby decorated with lotus plants in intricately designed pots and inviting plush couches around the circular hall. The air conditioning was a welcome relief from the Nevada summer heat, and the whole place seemed to glow in a dark shade of pink. 

You immediately felt an invisible weight ease off of your shoulders as you entered… What had you come here to look for, again?

Right, a phone charger and somewhere to pee. Of course, basic human necessities, how could you forget those so quickly?

Interrupting your line of thought, you paused in your tracks when a tall Barbie doll materialised in front of you, dressed in bright pink from head to toe; upon first glance she looked like some sort of projection, as though she wasn’t real at all.

“Welcome to the Lotus Hotel and Casino,” she greeted you in an almost robotic voice, with a plastic smile stretched across her face, holding out a shimmering green card. “Here’s your Cash Card, have a great time!”

“Cash… what? Do I have to pay for this?” you stuttered, confused beyond belief as you took the card. What was this place?

“No, not a penny!” She shook her head; not a single strand of her perfectly coiffed blonde hair shifted out of place. “Would you like a tour? Here, have a drink. Only the best in the world here!” 

She offered you a glass goblet, filled to the brim with a dark maroon liquid and topped with blueberries, bearing the same eerie magnetism as the doors had done minutes before. You eyed the drink dubiously, brows furrowed as you sniffed it in a futile attempt to ascertain what exactly it was.

“I’m alright, thank you,” you politely declined, “What is—”

But before you could finish your question, the Barbie doll had disappeared as suddenly as she’d arrived, and the moment you sipped the strong floral drink, your questions completely evaporated.

Following your curiosity, you craned your neck and looked up to see endless floors lined with rooms and doors and glass balconies, with a pair of glass elevators in the middle. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if the great glass elevator could shoot through the ceiling like something out of a children’s book.

At least there were more people in here, though you were certain they too had just appeared as if by magic; not acknowledging you at all, they milled about in the lobby and outside the doors to the casino, beside to what appeared to be an arcade full of excited children playing classic and modern video games alike. Regardless of age, all the guests were clad in fancy-dress costumes; you figured perhaps there was an event taking place that had its attendees reflecting different eras of fashion. Wouldn’t be unusual for this town, everyone was dressed crazy and after three days traversing Sin City’s myriad clubs and casinos, nothing fazed you - or perhaps the effects of whatever you’d taken at that club last night still hadn’t fully worn off, who knew…

Still in a bit of a daze, you floated toward the immense double doors leading to the Casino, already hearing the jingling of slot machines singing proud over the pounding pop beats as their backing track.

The casino was lit by ornate chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, deliberately dimmed to give way to the bright, flashing lights of the various gaming machines assembled around the hall, surrounding a set of card tables in its centre. Chatter and laughter filled the room and people crowded around the tables, playing without a care in the world and having the time of their lives; everyone seemed to have a goblet in hand and a cash card in the other, not dissimilar to your current state. It was warmer in here, though still comfortable enough that you could breathe… Just about.

You wandered through and your attention was glued to a game of roulette at a table beside you, where a couple had just won who knows what, when you were interrupted by a greeting that you just somehow knew was directed at you.

“Well, hello, there,” you heard in a smooth, low tenor behind you.

You whirled around on your heel to be met by… a guy. Literally just a guy, casually leaning on his gorgeously tanned forearms on a nearby craps table, aimlessly toying with a pair of dice in his left hand as he gazed over at you. He was certainly easy on the eyes with his vaguely familiar but handsome face, a mischievous little smirk on his lips, and pretty brown eyes that sparkled in the flashing lights… There was something about those eyes that drew you in. And for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away…

He looked like the most normal person in the room, but he seemed entirely out of place, given that everyone else was dressed to the nines - meanwhile he wore a comfy tan hoodie and sweatpants set, as if he perhaps owned it all and subsequently had no rules to follow in this already-lawless land. When he stepped around his table to approach you, he certainly did swagger around like he ruled the place, and his companions nearby looked at him like they worshipped the ground he walked on. Perhaps he was important, but how were you to know?

“You come here often?” he flirted, just about the most awful pickup line imaginable, but you were past the point of questioning why it still sounded attractive.

How had you ended up here, anyway? Hell knew… But this was Sin City, after all; a little harmless flirting could do you no harm, surely… 

“Nope, never been here before. But weirdly, I don’t want to leave…” you shrugged, taking another sip of that strangely addictive drink.

“Sounds about right, Miss…”

“[Y/N],” you offered casually, uncharacteristically not hesitant.

“Pleasure to meet you…” he said with a playful lilt to his tone, holding out a hand, “They call me Hermes.”

When you shook his hand, for a split second you could’ve sworn you weren’t there anymore - when his smooth hand held yours, something akin to a firework went off inside your mind, and you’d put it down to just sparks if not for the phantom breeze you felt just then, a gust that nearly knocked you off your feet.

You couldn’t place what it was, exactly, but there was something strange about this man. He bore an almost otherworldly quality, as though he wasn’t human at all… But how could he be anything else? Come to think of it, there was a similarly supernatural energy about the casino itself; no wonder he fit right in to this weird wonderland.

“What, you got a Birkin in your back pocket or something, Mr Hermes?” you laughed, trying to shake off that odd suspicion, only to be met by his indignant scowl. Even that was cute.

“And what business do you have with my back pockets?” he teased, tucking one hand into the front pocket of his hoodie, to which you raised an intrigued brow.

You shrugged, nonchalant, still reeling from that strange feeling. “Nothing yet, but perhaps I’d like to find out…”

“Obviously I do not, but I could hook you up.” The innuendo wasn’t lost on you, least of all when Hermes smirked, that patented brand of mischief you were quickly growing quite fond of as he swaggered across to the card table; the players welcomed him back gladly. “Care for a game?” he asked, seemingly winning one without even paying attention to it as he rolled the dice carelessly onto the table that stood between you.

As he retrieved the dice, you eyed his hands curiously; they could only be described as pretty, as though he might be a pianist or… an artist of some description. He had his sleeves rolled back and a gold-plated Rolex glimmered on one wrist, a chunky gold chain-link bracelet on the other, and something about that on him was distractingly attractive. It all screamed money, despite his casual tracksuit getup, which would’ve been nothing special if it didn’t look so needlessly expensive in itself. You absently wondered what that obscure tattoo on his ring finger meant, for surely it couldn’t imply he might be taken…

“It’s not like you have anything to lose,” Hermes commented, interrupting your line of thought as he set a few chips down on the table and retrieved his own green Cash Card from his pocket, holding it up to show you. So everyone had them; then, what was the point?

Oh, right. You likely couldn’t do anything with the money outside, so, go figure it was an unlimited free pass.

“I guess I’m in. After all, what you gonna do when the chips are down?” you quoted a challenge, holding your own smug look at the recognition in his eyes.

“I see you speak my language…” he teased, “Even if those aren’t exactly my words.”

“Funny you should mention that. Has anyone ever told you you look a bit like Lin-Manuel Miranda?”

“So I’ve been told! Though, I think the correct expression would be that he looks like me. Same difference, he’s me, I’m him, whatever.” He waved a flippant hand, as if instructing you to ask no further questions on the topic.

“Gotcha…” You laughed, putting this all down to a wacky dream by now as you joined him by the card table. “What is this, anyway?” you asked him, raising your goblet in his general direction. He was the only person here without one, which didn’t entirely make sense to you, even in the logic of twisted fever dreams.

“Raise a glass to freedom… and throw it the fuck away,” he sang with a laugh, “Seriously, though, that’s a little addictive psychedelic beverage called blue lotus wine. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t drink a drop.”

“And what if I already did?”

“Well, then you’re well and truly screwed…” Hermes grinned, mischief dancing in his dark brown eyes. He swiped the half-full glass out of your hand and knocked back the remainder of the wine in one quick gulp, his gaze never leaving yours as he deposited the empty glass on a tray carried away by one of those apparating Barbie waitresses. “And now, so am I.”

He waved over another waitress and grabbed two new glasses of wine off her tray, politely handing one to you. He brought his glass to his lips, slowly sipping at the wine as you eyed his hand wrapped around the glass, absently wondering what that seemingly delicate touch would feel like on you… There was no reason why the simple act of this man drinking hallucinatory wine should’ve been remotely sexy, but you could say the same for him in general; this shouldn’t work, but god damn, it does.

“Was that really the best idea if it’s—” you began, and he quickly cut in.

“Absolutely not, no, but if you come here to forget, you may as well do it right…” Hermes sighed, a momentary flash of resignation in his stance as he briefly let his shoulders droop. “Anyway, whatever, fuck real life. Let’s play?” he offered, running a hand through his dark hair, seemingly shaking himself out of the memory of whatever haunting reality had led him here. As a matter of fact, what had led you here?

“Sure,” you smiled, “What are we playing? I’m pretty sure I saw an arcade on my way in…”

“Come on, there’s no stakes in that! This is where the real fun’s at,” he said with a light laugh, gesturing to the craps table in front of you.

“Speak for yourself. I’ll have you know, I’m amazing at air hockey!”

“Yeah? I’m a killer at the claw machine, so go figure.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Cute. Shame they don’t have an escape room.”

“Just as well, I’ve always been a little too good with locks… Besides, this place itself is an escape room. Only, there’s no escape…”

“Wait, what?”

“Because… You want to stay, right? What’s waiting for you outside?”

Suddenly, you found yourself struggling to answer his question. Where barely a few moments ago, everything had been so clear, now you could see a hazy cloud inside your mind as you desperately searched for the answer to no avail, almost as though that hallucinogen was beginning to hit hard… 

“Outside? What’s outside? I — I could stay here — You’re… Huh?” you stuttered, “I don’t know where else I’d go.”

Hermes sighed, glancing over at you. “Literally anywhere but here.”

“Sorry?” you questioned, brows furrowed. Had you misread his signals?

“Walk with me,” he offered, and so you obliged as he stepped towards you again. You followed his lead as he strolled on within the confines of the casino, glancing surreptitiously around as though making sure you weren’t being eavesdropped on - though you could only wonder why.

“Alright, I don’t normally do this…” he drawled, “But for some reason I’m taking a liking towards you; and all trickery aside, I don’t take unfair advantage, so here’s the secret. You ever heard of Odysseus and the Lotus Eaters?” he asked seriously; you nodded your assurance. “Well, this place is kinda like their island… Only, now it’s here in the modern world, and what better place for it than Sin City? Hence the lightness in the air and the endless supply of blue lotus wine…”

You eyed him curiously, willing him to go on and trying not to focus on his initial confession. “I guess that explains a lot. So this is… eternal psychedelic bliss?”

“Yep, that good old adrenaline and dopamine rush, forever and ever and everrrrr… Half of Olympus has tried to claim it, but nobody really knows whose work of chaotic genius this was.” He shrugged nonchalantly, not at all like he was explaining such an outlandish concept. “When you’re in a casino, time just seems to work differently - and just like that, time moves at its own distorted pace in here. Lost travellers often find their way into this place, it has that draw when you stray off your path - and that’s why I hang out here, not just to wander astray from my own shit, but to guide you back to yours. I’m not immune to this,” he raised his glass, gesturing to the wine, “But I can handle the air just fine, unlike most mortals…”

“And what if I want to get lost?” you challenged, plucking his glass out of his hand, holding his gaze as you brought the drink to your lips. His gaze remained fixed on you as he bit his own lip, his eyes flickering to your lips for a millisecond as you sipped the wine; thirsty, not dissimilar to the way you’d been eyeing him mere seconds ago.

“Mmkay, lucky for you, I have some semblance of sense about me,” Hermes said, stopping by a poker table nearby, where the players immediately cleared a spot for the pair of you. Entirely nonchalant, he swiped a deck of cards off the table, expertly shuffling it as he spoke, “So win the next deal, and I’ll get you out of here.”

“So if I lose, I’m stuck in here?” you attempted to clarify the stakes, trying not to get distracted as you watched him shuffle those cards. Hell, he had such pretty hands, what else could you do but wonder what else he could do with them?

“Pretty much.”

“And what if I ask for a better deal?”

“Better than having your real life back?”

“Yep.”

“Try me…”

“Okay. If I win, my prize is you.”

“Me? What’s the catch?”

“Nothing. Just, you and me, until not even the gods above can separate the two of us,” you teased, peak dramatic, somewhere between flirting and floating. You could get used to this, the weightless feeling of flight…

Hermes quirked a brow at you, undeniably amused. “Interesting thought, given that I’m… well, not above, per se, but one of them.”

“You’re… what now?” You tilted your head to one side, looking curiously across at him. What in the world was he on about?

He shot you a pointed stare, isn’t it obvious? But it wasn’t, until now… when it all began to make sense, slowly: what this place was, how he knew so much about it, why he had a more heightened sense of awareness despite the inherent hypnotism of the literal and metaphorical lotus flower you’d stepped into… And he could guide lost travellers out. Your jaw dropped as your hand flew to your mouth when it finally dawned upon you who and what he was, and what that entailed —

And out loud, all you could manage was a whisper; “Oh, my god…”

The Greek god in front of you heaved a dramatic sigh, aiming a playful eye-roll in your direction. “Please, like I haven’t heard that one before,” he chuckled lightly, the sarcasm heavy in his tone.

And so you let him deal your hand and you played, stopping every so often to laugh, for Hermes was surprisingly fun to be around and perhaps staying here with him wouldn’t be so bad… Only, this couldn’t be his permanent residence. He was the god of travel, it made sense that he never hung around one place long enough to settle. It was obvious he had a natural charisma about him that clearly worked in his favour more than once; and not that it really mattered, but you absently wondered how many like you had crossed paths with him before, and the past baggage he’d been trying to forget was certainly not lost on you…

He had his right arm slung casually around your shoulder, his left occupied by his cards, not caring if you could see them. You tried your level best to stay focused; for you were feeling a little lightheaded by now, a combination of the wine and the strong scent of his cologne… He was close, enough that you could pick up the gentle sweet notes beneath the woody cedar scent he wore.

“All in?” you suggested, nudging your chips toward the centre of the table, glancing up at the literal god beside you.

“I am if you are,” Hermes smirked, pushing his own ridiculous amount of chips into the pot beside yours.

The game went on; and as if out of nowhere, thanks to a sudden turn in your luck and a surprise royal flush - which if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve attributed to him - you had finally won. Caught up in the daze, you stepped up onto your toes and threw your arms around his neck in an excited hug. He was momentarily taken aback by it, but quickly regained enough composure to gently wrap his arms around you. His soft touch bore a pleasantly startling contrast to his mischievous demeanour, and you found yourself not wanting to let go.

“Well played…” he congratulated you in that same teasing tone as he gently drew you back, briefly glancing at his watch and tapping two fingers against the side of the dial.

Perhaps you would’ve wondered why, but spurred on by your victory and high off the adrenaline, you hooked one finger in the gold chain around his neck and gently tugged at it to urge him closer, until the distance between you was barely a hair’s breadth. You could feel the warmth radiating off him in waves, his intense cologne flooding your senses. And suddenly it didn’t faze you that you were in public, and you paid no mind to the way all his casino companions were frozen around you instead of continuing their games… Suddenly, all you wanted was him. 

Was it blasphemous to lust after a god?

Hell, you could deal with the consequences of that later, for right now, his magnetism was pulling you in and you couldn’t bear to look away from those deep, dark brown eyes… Until Hermes leant closer to you and his soft lips brushed yours as he spoke, barely above a whisper yet you could hear him clearly despite the noise, “Not at all…”

Your breathing hitched, at his comment, at his proximity, at… everything about this. How the fuck did he know what you’d been thinking? 

Perhaps you’d dwell on that longer, but just then he reached up to cup your cheek. Though unexpectedly tender, his touch was white hot where his skin met yours, but pleasurably so as you let yourself get lost in it, in him… He pressed his lips to yours in two delicate little pecks, clearly just teasing, and you just about caught sight of his smirk before you stepped up onto your toes to kiss him again, for real this time. His other hand smoothly dropped to your waist, holding you against him and you pulled at his chain with your finger still caught in it, curling your other fist in the soft cotton of his hoodie.

Apparently, even the gods weren’t immune to carnal need, and Hermes was evidently faring no better than you; he gave in to the kiss quickly, all but melting into you, his tongue swiping insistently at your bottom lip, and you weren’t about to stop him. You parted your lips for him, granting him access instead of prolonging this teasing that had left you both desperate. He tasted of something indescribably sweet, mixed with the rich taste of the blue lotus wine that you’d both downed not so long ago, and you already knew he was a far better intoxicant than any drink you’d find here… As he deepened the kiss, his tongue brazenly tasting yours, borderline hungry; you saw a flash of light behind your eyelids, gripped by the feeling that you were flying, all for a mere moment before you became hyperaware of his heated touch and the fact that your feet were still firmly planted on the soft floral-patterned carpet of the casino.

It felt like time had frozen, the world had stopped around you, and nothing mattered except for him and you and the most perfect kiss you’d ever had…

But somehow, instead of clouding your thoughts like you’d expected, you drew back from his kiss with some clarity. Hermes had told you he could never lose. So why, then, had you just managed to win this? You were no expert when it came to these games, and he was clearly a well-seasoned gambling master… Had the notorious trickster god manipulated the deal in your favour? Had he purposely thrown this away for you?

The glimmer in his eyes only looked brighter as you separated, yet somehow those deep browns looked darker, lust clearly getting the better of him; and he made no effort to hide it, despite his small smile and the lightest hint of a blush on his cheeks. You were fairly sure you mirrored it all, and you were in no hurry to let him go…

Only, as the world began to come back into focus, you realised time really had stopped around you: everything and everyone in the casino was frozen, and you glanced up at the god in front of you with a mix of curiosity and fear in your eyes. “When you said you could stop time…” you began, still in disbelief.

Hermes nodded slowly, meeting your gaze with that characteristic smirk. “Yeah, I meant that literally. I may have had a running out of time crisis once, hence… this stolen life-saver,” he explained, raising his wrist to show you his watch - now upon closer inspection, you realised the hour, minute and second hands all pointed to 12, and he hovered a finger over a button at the side of the dial. “It’s up to you. Want me to bring it back?”

You shook your head. Not only did that beautiful gold timepiece look unfairly gorgeous on his wrist; it also held a piece of magic that could be incredibly useful… “No,” you whispered, “I’m in no hurry. Let’s make this last…”

You tilted your chin up towards him again, and he obliged you with another sweet little kiss. “Well, then… Perhaps I could show you some of the wonders of existing beyond space and time…” he murmured, “What d’you say to that?”

“I say, make time stop for us a little longer. Take me to another world, Hermes…”

The look he shot you just then, could’ve brought you to your knees on the spot - somehow you just knew he was fixated on the sound of his name as you whispered it, and you wondered how he could make you feel that just from a simple touch.

“C’mon, sweetheart; let’s get out of here,” Hermes suggested, offering you an arm; you linked your arm through his as he tapped the side of his watch, resuming the world around you as if it had never paused at all. 

You gazed up at him in awe as he led you out of the casino, back to the lobby and towards the opening of the blooming flower you’d walked in through. The humid summer air hit you both as you stepped outside together, thereby breaking the spell - but you were still captivated by him, regardless. He briefly let go of you to do away with his warm hoodie, leaving him in just a fitted white t-shirt that had no business looking so goddamn gorgeous on him.

You couldn’t help but smile as he hummed softly in your ear, “There’s a place I know in a nearby park…”

Part 2 via AO3 (blasphemous smut ahead)

[andy-wm]

It’s a soft launch, right? I mean first the documentary where JK comes over and cooks, and now the crossword today. It’s them being domestic. It’s giving married.

https://youtu.be/sn_PbXbnmLM?si=cvigjFLJcAZCY9g0

🌈💜

Thank for this ask, anon 💛💜

(short answer to this ask: it's not a soft anything).

Before i answer i have to FIRST say....

<< I'm not directing this at you anon, so please don't take it personally - i dont know who you are for starters and i really appreciate this ask! 🌈🥰🏳️‍⚧️ >>

... I hate the term soft launch being applied to real humans and their personal lives.

Yes i know ... PR bla bla and celebrity bla bla. It's a handy bit of jargon (and buzz words make us feel like we're in the know, right?)

But i especially i hate it being used for queer people coming out. Let's compare it to a similar level of personal reveal in a hereronormative relationship...

You don't call an engagement the soft launch of a wedding, right?

It's dehumanising to see such a momentous aspect of his life reduced to the equivalent of a marketing plan. He's a person. This this is his relationship, not a political campaign.

Let's not talk about the lives of these two beautiful people in love, in business terms.

We aren't their PR agents., we are their confidants and supporters. Let's keep it that way 🙂

<<<END OF RANT>>>

Now as to the question, i think this isn't soft in any way. I think this is a freight train.

This is the transcontinental, stopping all stations, heavy cargo hauler.

In the sweetest possible way, Jimin is saying to the world "Listen to me. I am telling you my truth...

Get aboard or get out of the way."

BUT ALSO...

and mabe more importantly, i think this is not just an album and it's not just for ARMY.

Look at this:

These all sound like love songs, and the imagery used is cassette tapes. It's a mixtape... old fashioned, romantic, time consuming and unique to the individual you're (he's) making it for. Its a gift to someone special.

It's a declaration of love.

Who do you think he's really making it for?

[kanzakiaizen]

OLD SCHOOL LOVE - GOJO SATORU X FEM! READER

A/N: I really really love old school romance like we need those back 😭🤍

Warnings: angst, fluff, dramatic rain scene, comfort, 2006 high school era, gojo being ooc, might seem cringe or cheesy but I tried my best 😭

In the heart of Tokyo, in the early 2006s, there was a high school nestled between bustling streets and serene temples. The school, with its old brick buildings and cherry blossom trees, was a world unto itself, where young dreams and hopes flourished.

Satoru Gojo was a quiet, introspective student who spent most of his time in the library, lost in books and music. He had an old Walkman that he carried everywhere, playing mixtapes he'd carefully crafted from late-night radio shows. His passion for music was well-known among his classmates, but few knew the depth of his feelings for a certain someone.

Y/n was the school's spirited and kind-hearted student council president. Her laugh was infectious, and she had a way of making everyone feel included. She excelled in her studies and was always busy with school activities, but her favorite pastime was painting. She often sketched scenes of the city, capturing its beauty on her canvases.

Their paths seldom crossed, despite being in the same class. Satoru admired y/n from afar, too shy to approach her. His friends teased him, calling it an unrequited crush, but he cherished the small moments—her smile when she greeted him in the hallway, the way she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear when she was deep in thought.

One crisp autumn day, the school announced a talent show. Students buzzed with excitement, eager to showcase their talents. Y/n decided to participate, choosing to paint a large mural representing the unity and spirit of their school. Satoru, encouraged by his friends, signed up to perform a song he'd written, a heartfelt melody inspired by his unspoken feelings.

The weeks leading up to the talent show were a whirlwind of activity. Y/n spent her afternoons in the art room, her hands covered in paint, her eyes sparkling with creativity. Satoru practiced his song in the music room, pouring his heart into every note, hoping to convey his emotions through the lyrics.

On the night of the talent show, the school auditorium was filled with students, teachers, and proud parents. The air was electric with anticipation.

Y/n's mural was revealed first, a breathtaking masterpiece that brought tears to many eyes. The audience erupted in applause, and Y/n's smile was radiant.

Then it was satoru's turn. He stepped onto the stage, his heart pounding. As he strummed his guitar and began to sing, the room fell silent. His voice was filled with raw emotion, and the lyrics spoke of a love that was pure and enduring. Y/n, standing in the wings, felt a strange sense of recognition.

When Satoru finished, the audience gave him a standing ovation. Y/n approached him backstage, her eyes shining. "Your song... it was beautiful," she said softly.

Satoru blushed, looking down. "Thank you. It was inspired by someone special."

Y/n's heart fluttered. "Really? Who?"

Taking a deep breath, met her gaze. "You."

Y/n's eyes widened in surprise, then softened with understanding. "Satoru, I had no idea..."

He smiled shyly. "I've admired you for so long, but I was too afraid to tell you."

Y/n reached out and took his hand. "I'm glad you did. Your song was the most beautiful confession I've ever heard."

From that night on, satoru and y/n's bond grew stronger. They spent their days together, discovering shared interests and supporting each other's dreams.

The weeks following the talent show had been a whirlwind for Satoru & y/n. Their relationship blossomed, and they became inseparable, sharing their dreams and insecurities, their laughter and tears. Yet, as the pressures of school and personal obligations mounted, so did the strain on their young love.

Satoru had always struggled with his studies, and the looming college entrance exams filled him with dread. His parents, strict and traditional, expected nothing less than excellence, and he felt the weight of their expectations pressing down on him. Meanwhile, y/n, with her myriad responsibilities as student council president and her own academic pressures, found herself stretched thin. Despite their deep feelings for each other, their time together became sporadic, their conversations often tinged with frustration.

One gray afternoon, as storm clouds gathered over Tokyo, Satoru and y/n found themselves in the middle of a heated argument. They stood in the courtyard, their voices rising above the din of the approaching storm.

"You're never around anymore, y/n!" Satoru exclaimed, his voice raw with emotion. "It's like you have time for everyone else but me."

y/n's eyes flashed with anger. "That's not fair, Satoru. I'm doing my best. I have so many responsibilities, and I'm trying to balance everything."

"But where do I fit into all of this?" Satoru demanded, his heart aching. "Sometimes I feel like I'm just another obligation to you."

The first raindrops began to fall, mingling with the tears on y/n's cheeks. "You're not an obligation, Satoru. You're the person I care about most. But it's so hard... trying to be everything for everyone."

As the rain intensified, their argument reached a fever pitch, their words lost in the downpour. Satoru turned away, running a hand through his drenched hair. "Maybe we're just too different," he muttered, the pain in his voice unmistakable.

y/n stepped closer, her own tears mixing with the rain. "Satoru, don't say that. We can make this work. We just need to try harder."

He looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and despair. "I don't know if I can, y/n. I'm scared of losing you, but I'm also scared of losing myself in the process."

The rain fell harder, drenching them both, but neither moved. They stood facing each other, the storm reflecting the turmoil in their hearts. Then, in a moment of vulnerability, y/n reached out and took Satoru's hand.

"Satoru, I love you," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rain. "I don't want to lose you. Let's not give up on us."

Satoru felt his resolve waver as he looked into her eyes. Despite the storm, despite the chaos around them, he saw the sincerity in her gaze. Slowly, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as the rain poured down.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into her hair. "I don't want to lose you either. We'll find a way, together."

y/n nodded against his chest, her arms wrapped around him. "Together," she echoed.

In that rain-soaked courtyard, amidst the storm and their shared fears, Satoru and y/n found a renewed sense of hope. They knew the road ahead would be difficult, but they also knew they were stronger together. As they kissed, the rain washing away their tears, they made a silent promise to each other—to fight for their love, no matter the odds.

[huntingingoodwill]

may the best man win (s.h.)

masterlist

send in requests for my 1.3k sleepover!

requested by: @hauntedheathcliff (thank u!)

mixtape: menswear by the 1975

pairing: best friend to lover! steve harrington x reader

“Where is she?” Steve’s words escaped his lips, tinged with a breathless panic as he burst into the room. His chest heaved in his pressed button-down, brown hair windswept from his frantic run over. 

Robin lifted her hand to her lips, fingers peeking out from the sleeve of her dad’s oversized suit jacket. She chewed anxiously on her thumb nail, nodding toward a bathroom stall from her perch on the sinks, eyebrows knitted together tightly. 

The heels of Steve’s dress shoes, the leather shiny with black polish, clicked quietly across the marble floor of the bathroom as he made his way toward the stall. 

“(Y/N)?” He knocked on the closed stall door, gently. Your name tumbled off his tongue, familiar and sweet. In your distraught state, your whole body buzzing with worry, you felt a tinge of relief at your best friend’s arrival. 

You couldn’t respond, voice weak with exhaustion, but he listened for you as he heard you quietly wretch. He peered down, the skirt of your gown fanning out all around you as you knelt on the floor, layers of white tulle flooding out from beneath the gaps of the stall. 

From behind the door, you could hear the way his voice rumbled, deep in his chest, as he whispered to Robin. She hopped off the sink counter, leaving you two alone. 

Steve sunk to the floor, the tile cold on his legs even through his suit. He knocked, quietly. 

“Honey, you okay? They said you were asking for me.”  

You let out a weak snivel. He frowned, pressing his forehead against the door as his brow furrowed. Years and years of friendship, and seeing you upset still stung. 

“Can you open the door for me, please?” He coaxed. 

You reached a shaky hand up, unlocking the door. 

He pulled it open, sliding into the cramped stall next to you. The skirts of your wedding dress swamped the space, rustling as Steve pressed his back against the wall, looking at you intently. You mirrored him, sitting across from him with your back against the opposite wall. You kept your head down, studying your hands, picking at your nails as they remained folded in your lap. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, the genuine concern in his voice causing your emotions to bubble up again, the overwhelming, sick feeling flooding your senses. 

“I-” You hiccuped, barely able to get the word out before you spun around, pushing yourself up onto your knees as you wretched into the toilet bowl. Steve jumped up, pushing back your hair, the once perfectly styled locks now dishevelled. 

“Let it out.” He cooed, his large, warm hand running up and down the expanse of your spine. 

He got you settled back down on the floor by the toilet again. He pulled out his pocket square, taking his chin in your hands to hold your face toward him. Your breath stuttered as you inhaled shakily, blinking away tears as he used the silky material to, to clean up your running eye makeup, the fabric to ghosting the corner of your lips as he dabbed at your smudged lipstick. 

“I can’t marry him.” You admitted through a gasping breath. “You gotta tell everyone the wedding’s off. I can’t marry Frank.” 

You sunk into his touch as he ran a thumb across your cheek. 

He ignored that exhilarating, sick excitement that ran through his body. He fought back the urge to scream, to rejoice, to beg and plead: Don’t marry Frank. Please, please, please don’t marry Frank. 

He scolded himself. You had begged Frank for ages to let Steve be your best man in place of having a maid of honour. He couldn’t take advantage of you when you needed him the most, telling you not to marry your fiance just because Steve happened to be madly in love with you. 

He couldn’t. He couldn't, even though a little part of him died when he first saw the two of you together, wishing it was his hand you were holding when you and Frank began dating two years ago. Even though hearing the news that Frank had proposed to you crushed all the air out of him. Even though he wished you were marrying him, instead. 

“Of course you can. It’s just cold feet, that’s all. You’ll see, as soon as you get up there-” 

“No.” You interrupted. “I can’t. I can’t marry him.” You sniffed, your voice small but determined. You blinked, before digging the heels of your palms into your reddened eyes, taking in a huge breath to steady yourself. 

“I don’t love him.” You whispered, voice faltering. 

“But… of course you do, honey, you’re just-” 

“No.” You shook your head, swallowing thickly. “I don’t. I know I don’t.” 

“How do you know?” 

“I…” You gulped, eyebrow furrowing. “I realise now that… you know, we were so young, when we started dating- I mean, we’re still, so young and… as awful as it sounds…” Your voice cracked, the words threatening to fall off your tongue. 

“I think I tricked myself into believing I loved him, into thinking it was okay to get into all of this, because I didn’t want to think of the truth.” Your gaze met Steve’s, and at that moment, he wanted to hold you, tell you it would all be fine, kiss you and take you away from all this. 

His fingers flexed at his sides. He tucked them into his pocket. 

“The truth is that I was in love with someone who didn’t love me back.” You murmured. A stray lock of hair fell over Steve’s eyes, and you wanted to reach out and brush it away. You wanted to touch his face. 

Your fingers flexed at your sides. You balled your hand into a fist. 

“Come here.” He whispered, breaking the silence that fell between you.

You turned around, leaning against him. 

Slowly, your breath steadied, falling in time with the rise and fall of his chest against your back. His arm hung loosely around your waist, the other reaching up to stroke the hair away from your face.

“You look so beautiful.” He sighed, and you could hardly believe him, your hair and makeup a mess and wearing your ridiculous wedding gown. “You’ve always been beautiful.” He said it like he meant it, like he believed in it like nothing else. 

“It’s all gonna be okay.” He reassured. “You’re gonna get up there, and realise it was all just nerves. And you’re gonna forget all about that guy who didn’t love you back. Because…” 

You lifted your gaze to meet his. 

“Anyone who wouldn’t love you is a total idiot.” He muttered, the rough tips of his fingers ghosting your hair. 

You sighed, taking a few more breaths to calm yourself.

You wished you could stay this way forever, just you and him. No worries about the wedding, or about what would happen after, if you and Steve would drift away from each other, the rift caused by married life, by the world, growing too big for the two of you to handle. If you could do anything in the world, you’d always be with him. No doubt about it. 

That scared you. 

He helped you to your feet, holding your face in his hands. 

He gave you that million wattage smile. It broke your heart. 

“C’mon, beautiful. Frank’s waiting.” 

Steve stood next to the altar, fidgeting in his suit as he waited for you to appear. 

Finally, the doors blew open at the end of the aisle. The air was knocked out of him, escaping him as soon as he saw you. 

You walked, slowly, down the aisle, and through the veil that hung between the two of you, he swore he could see you looking at him through the translucent lace, lips upturned. 

He felt his mouth lift up, and uncontrollably, he was smiling, like an idiot. 

He wanted to reach out and lift the veil himself. He wanted to see your face again, that smile. He wanted to kiss you. 

Then, you reached the end of the aisle, turning to Frank instead of him. 

Steve shoved aside the feeling of aching misery spreading through his body.  

The ceremony dragged on, every declaration of love and eternity just another blow to him. What use was love and eternity to him, if it wasn’t with you? 

He felt his knuckles clench at his sides, the ridges of his hands growing white. 

Then, you turned to look at him. 

You glanced behind you, and for a second, you smiled at him. It filled his body with light. 

“If anyone present should know of a reason why this couple should not be joined together in matrimony, speak now, or forever hold your peace.” 

“Me.” Steve blurted out, the words escaping his lips before he even had time to process it. 

The room fell deadly silent. Then, shocked gasps rose from the crowd, murmurs of confusion rippling through the audience of guests. 

You turned to look at Steve, eyebrow furrowed. 

“Me.” Steve repeated, clearing his throat. “I mean-” He screwed his eyes shut. “Um, I do. I mean, I object.” 

“What the hell, man?” Frank hissed. 

Steve looked at him. He never noticed it before, but they almost looked alike. 

“I think I’ll say a couple of words, if you don’t mind.” Steve started off, fumbling awkwardly. 

“I do mind.” Frank shot back quietly, voice shaking with rage, before turning back to the guests. “Save it for the best man’s speech, huh?” He chuckled awkwardly in an attempt to save his crumbling wedding ceremony, raising a few uncomfortable laughs from the guests. 

Steve ignored him. 

“(Y/N), I wanted you to know that I think I spent all this time doing anything and everything to distract myself from the truth.” 

Your eyes sparkled as he echoed your words, a teary laugh leaving your lips. 

“The truth is… I’ve been in love with my best friend for years. Madly, truly in love. It scared me, how much I did. I was scared before, but I’m not anymore. It took me a while,” He chuckled, gesturing to all the guests staring at him, your fiance’s hands gripping yours. “But I’m not afraid anymore. I can speak the truth now. I’m in love with you. I have been, all this time.” He paused, his big brown eyes glimmering. “I love you.” 

You smiled. 

“I love you too, Steve.” 

“Okay. Okay! That’s it! I always knew there was something wrong with you, man, but I didn’t realise you were this fucked up.” Frank yelled, jabbing a finger at Steve. “You wanna go, man? Let’s go!” He cried out, pulling his tux jacket off. His muscles strained against his dress shirt as he put his fists up, charging at Steve. 

He swung at Steve, narrowly avoiding him as he just ducked out of the way.  

Frank tried again, but Steve fought back this time, taking a jab toward him. 

It caught him in the jaw. Frank fell to the floor. 

You looked at Steve as your fiance lay at your feet, breathing hard as you felt a warmth spread across your cheeks.  

You stepped right over Frank, taking Steve’s hand and running out of the building. 

“Sorry.” Steve mouthed at his plus-one, the girl glaring at him as the two of you ran down the aisle, hand in hand, leaving your fiance passed out at the altar. You tossed your bouquet at her, watching as she caught it, sullen. 

Your dress swished behind you as the outraged noises from the guests rose around you, but you couldn’t hear them over the sound of you and Steve screaming with laughter. 

Hand in hand, you ran, not caring where you were going, as long as you were together. 

The two of you made it out onto the street, passer-by glancing at the runaway bride, making her daring escape with the best man, awash in sunlight and glowing with happiness.  

Steve raised his arm, trying to hail a taxi. You yanked him back. 

“I don’t have enough money for a cab! Do you?”   

He reached into his pants pocket, producing his wallet. Practically empty. He rummaged around in his pockets, finding nothing but a bit of loose change. 

“For a moment there, I forgot I was broke.” He sighed. 

You laughed, glancing around before dragging him toward the bus stop, waving at the driver of the bus idling in front of it, black smoke rising from its tailpipe as the dingy, rusty old bus shuddered. 

You walked on, the two of you a vision in the drab old bus, your magnificent dress swirling around you as you walked toward the backseat, Steve using what little money he had to pay for your fare before settling down next to you. 

He smiled at you. The sun was setting, a golden light settling down over Hawkins. It streamed in through the windows, settling you two alight. A glow bursted from the two of you. His eyes, warm and brown in the sunlight, shone, his tan skin luminous.  

“I can’t stop smiling.” He whispered. 

“Then don’t.” You responded, lacing your fingers with his. 

He leaned in to kiss you, his plush lips grazing yours, and you smiled into it uncontrollably, melting into his touch. You felt a warmness spread through your chest. 

“Our wedding is gonna be so much better than this one.” You smiled. 

[trashpandato]

Maroon

It’s a good afternoon. No, scratch that, it’s a great afternoon. Kara has been home for a few hours, the city finally quiet for a bit. It’s the first time in weeks that she’s had time to herself, to relax, to do what she wants.

And what she wants is to dance in her kitchen, her music as loud as she dares to play it in her apartment building.

It’s loud enough that apparently she doesn’t hear Lena come in. She lets out a surprised squeak when she feels hands touch her shoulder and whirls around only to see her friend in her kitchen with an amused smile on her face.

“Lena! I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I can tell. I knocked, but you didn’t answer. I could hear you in here, though. I hope it’s okay that I let myself in?”

“Of course.” 

Kara pulls her into a hug. A new song is just starting and Kara can see Lena wrinkle her nose in that adorable way, a sign that she might not be a fan.

“What do you have against Maroon 5?”

Lena steps back from their hug and shrugs. “It’s just not my kind of music. Wasn’t their lead singer caught sending inappropriate texts to a younger woman while married?

Kara pauses as she watches Lena shed her coat and hang her purse up by the door. 

“Was he? I missed that. What a jerk.”

Lena shrugs again. “I mean, sure. But I guess that’s his personal business. If you like their music, don’t stop dancing on my account.”

“You sure?”

Kara would be more than happy to switch to a new playlist. She knows how much Lena loves NSYNC, for example.

“Mm. Though, I did like them better when they were still called Kara’s Flowers.”

Kara is in the middle of unlocking her phone to open up her music app. She frowns.

“What?”

“Their band,” Lena confirms. “Maroon 5. It was called Kara’s Flowers initially. Apparently they all had a crush on the same girl when they named their band.”

“Really? How do you know all that?”

It’s then that Lena’s demeanor visibly changes. There’s a bright blush staining her cheeks and her ears look hot. She’s fiddling with her fingers, unable to meet Kara’s gaze.

“I, um, I might have Googled songs and your name one night and it came up.”

The admission stops Kara dead in her tracks.

“You…what?”

“I wanted to make you a mixtape,” Lena stammers, her voice quiet. “Well. A playlist. Unless you want an actual tape. I’m sure I can sort that out, too. But you would need something to play it on, so just let me know if you’d prefer that.”

The admission unleashes something in Kara, something that’s been buzzing beneath her skin for a while.

“Come here,” she whispers, her hands reaching for Lena and pulling her close. 

She lets one hand trail up along Lena’s arm, along the side of her neck, feels Lena’s pulse quicken where her palm rests against warm skin.

Then, she leans in.

It’s slow and measured. She wants to give Lena every opportunity to stop her, to pull back. But Lena doesn’t. Instead, she closes the distance first and presses her lips against Kara’s. Lightly at first, waiting, and Kara knows it’s a question that she’s more than happy to answer. She pushes back against those lips more firmly.

Kara’s not sure how long they stand there, kissing in her kitchen, Maroon 5 still blaring in the background. When she pulls back, Lena looks flushed, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“If I had known that this would be your response to me promising to make you a mixtape, I would have done it long ago.”

Kara huffs out a laugh but leans back in for another kiss.

[skz-streamer]

Will you be my wife?

Simptober Small Things You Do M-list

Pairing: Changbin (skz) x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: just brain rot fluff :)

Notes: hahaaaa tricked you w the teaser, ik it doesn't really match up w the lyrics but I feel like this line is really proposal coded so yea:)))

-please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people

Word count - 484;)

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

Three years of dating Changbin had been an incredible journey. Your relationship had grown stronger with each passing day, and you couldn't have been happier. It was a sunny day when Changbin had asked you out on a date for lunch, and you had an inkling that this might be the perfect moment to take the next step in your relationship.

As you prepared for the lunch date, your heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You chose a cute dress that made you feel special, hoping that today would be a day you'd both remember forever. As you got ready, you couldn't help but notice that Changbin had also taken extra care in selecting his outfit. It made you smile, knowing that he was putting in effort just like you were.

Finally, you arrived at the restaurant, and Changbin, ever the gentleman, quickly got out of the car to open your door. His sweet gesture made your heart flutter, and you couldn't have asked for a more thoughtful partner.

Once you were seated at your table, the atmosphere seemed to buzz with nervous energy. Both of you were equally jittery, though you couldn't quite put your finger on why Changbin was so anxious. The anticipation hung in the air, adding a layer of tension to the otherwise pleasant setting.

As the meal progressed, you tried to enjoy your lunch, but the nagging thought of your proposal plan was always on your mind. Finally, as dessert was being served, you decided it was now or never.

But just as you were about to gather your courage and propose, Changbin caught you off guard. He grabbed your hand and placed it in his, then reached under the table, pulling out a small box. Your heart raced, and before you could even process what was happening, he asked, "Will you be my wife?"

Your jaw dropped in shock, and you stammered out an instinctive "no..." Changbin's face fell, his eyes wide and hurt. Panic seized you, and then you burst into laughter, loud and uncontainable.

Changbin's confusion deepened, and he blinked at you, utterly bewildered. You managed to catch your breath between laughs and said, "No... you did it before I could."

Relief washed over Changbin's face, and he joined in your laughter. In unison, you both exclaimed, "So is that a yes?"

Tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you both reached into your pockets, producing the rings you had secretly prepared for each other. It was a moment of sheer serendipity, and you couldn't help but feel that it was meant to be.

With trembling hands, you exchanged the rings, the symbols of your commitment and love for each other. The feeling of the cool metal sliding onto your finger was accompanied by a warmth that filled your heart. It was official—you were engaged, and you couldn't have been happier.

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

Tags:  @eee5533 @mixtape-racha @cherry-edibles @ren0325 @felixvsp @hwangrimi @sanriiolino @painstakingly-juno @herarcadewasteland @dabiscrustyfeet @kai-jilee  @sungiesoonie  @slvtty4channiee @revelaffee @buckys-pillow, @staygirl86 @chlodavids @jinnie-ret @bbygrlhannie @rebecca-johnson-28  @turtledove824  @interstellarairwaves @yearofthetiger25 @minhos4thkitty @fiqire @backintomykpopphaseagain @liknws @tinyelfperson

[da-rulah]

Copia’s rats have definitely interrupted sexy time before lmao

HAHAHA see this is the problem with rats… they’re nocturnal…

Cardinal Copia x gn!reader, MDNI 18+

It’s not often you get time alone with the Cardinal now that he’s taken the place of Papa Emeritus III in the interim, and so every minute with him is precious

You’re used to it by now, but you miss your Copia… You miss his touch…

The first night alone you get together, you make a bit of a spectacle about it - candles, rose petals, plenty of the fancy wine…

“Amore, this is too much… you spoil me, hm?”

With a buzz from the wine, you climb into his lap, peppering his jaw and neck with kisses as he leans back against the arm chair, sighing in content.

You take your time, savouring the free night together with slow, calculated kisses, soft touches

The two of you head to bed, stripping each other of your clothes layer by layer, giggling with rose tinted cheeks

He’s slow, worshipping every inch of your skin from above you, leaving kisses down your chest, navel, to just above where you’re aching for him…

*squeak* *squeak squeak* *squeak*

The unmistakable sound of a wheel squeaking consistently permeated the air, stopping the Cardinal in his tracks

You struggle not to laugh, slapping your hand to your face

Copia’s rats, Ratelli and Ratiatori - aptly named after types of pasta (he did love his ridiculous puns…) - had chosen that moment to get their daily exercise

He shook his head, trying desperately to ignore it but your giggles were threatening to spill and in his tipsy state, they were contagious…

“Amore, please… I can’t focus,” he giggles

You try to encourage him between giggles, assuring him it’s fine, you can ignore it, but that wheel will not stop squeaking

“Un momento, Amore…”

He gets up and grabs a blanket, gently placing it over the large cage to hush them - they were pretty well trained, total darkness keeping them quiet as if they knew when they could and couldn’t run their little wheel marathons

In seconds he’s back between your thighs, more kisses to your navel, down to your inner thighs and gently hovering over your sex, about to…

*squeak* *squeak squeak* *squeak*

Copia huffs, slapping his forehead to your thigh as he gives up.

You’re laughing aloud now, you can’t help it

“Telli, Tori, per favore!” he shouts, but they think he’s being social. They squeak back at him.

You sit up, grabbing his hand and pulling him with you towards the bathroom - the only part of his quarters with separation.

He picks up what you’re putting down, grabbing his boombox from where it sat atop the chest of drawers.

“The shower will do,” you laugh.

And the mixtape you’d given him sitting in his boombox would certainly help…

I hope this was kinda what you were after, dear reader! 🥰

[utronabalcone]

i-N conversation: A$AP Rocky, march 1, 2012

living by the self-penned mantra “always strive and prosper”, or “always stackin’ and paper-chasin’”, or perhaps “accumulate status and power” rocky, along with his harlem-based crew, is busy carving his own one-of-a-kind niche in the rap game. after dropping the free to download mixtape LiveLoveA$AP late last year as well as releasing his co-directed music videos for hits ‘purple swag‘,’ peso‘ and most recently ‘wassup‘, rocky officially has the internet going nuts. In an age where it can be all about the music video, he’s got all the boxes ticked: a dope ass green-haired chick by his side, gold teeth by the ton, and lots of yohji yamamoto x adidas cameos. 10 million plus views on youtube don’t lie. ending 2011 off right, A$AP Rocky signed a 7-figure record deal which will allow him the freedom to further explore various personal creative projects. quite the charmer, i-D online had a quick chat with the rapper during a recent visit to toronto.

iD: you kind of just came on the scene out of nowhere and immediately generated a lot of buzz, what do you think caught peoples’ attention? 

AP: i’m this dude from new york talking about this high fashion lifestyle stuff, ignorant stuff and positive stuff all at the same time. it’s just leaving people confused. i like to leave people in a state of mind where they don’t even know what’s going on.  people think I’m illuminati or a devil worshiper because of the ‘wassup‘ video.  people don’t even get the message. so it’s cool. i like people to just wonder, that’s my thing.

iD: who are your five favourite designers right now… 

AP: this guy right here (points at his jacket) raf simons, of course rick owens, jeremy scott, alexander wang and i want to say ksubi.

photography: kevin marzo

[crappymixtape]

baby, it's cold outside

REQUEST → @sattlersquarry, A VERY MERRY MIXTAPE ❝ what about 🎁 exchanging presents with steve?? i just know he’s a thoughtful gift giver! – it's been snowing all day, enough to snap the power lines and make the lights go out, and when steve comes over to build you a fire you can't think of a more perfect time to exchange gifts | ( 0.0k – just honestly pure fluff, modern!steve x reader )

B A B Y, I T ' S C O L D O U T S I D E 🎶 baby it's cold outside, frank sinatra & dorothy kirsten

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know…

Frank Sinatra’s voice drifted across the living room and you shot a glare at the record player.

“Oh, shut up already,” you muttered, glancing out the window to find the snow on the sill had piled up another half inch.

It was going to be historic the weatherman had said yesterday. A storm of which the likes Hawkins hasn’t seen in years! And he wasn’t kidding. It dumped fourteen inches of snow in three hours and even though your crotchety old landlord had dug out the walkway to the street, all that work would be undone in another few hours by the looks of it.

Your mom had called twice already asking if you had enough soup? Enough toilet paper? And, honey, you should have gone to the store yesterday! We could be stuck all weekend! Your retired electrician father lectured you on what to do if you lost power. Something about being able to use the gas stove even if the electric cut out, but honestly all you could think about?

Was Steve.

Steve and how you’d promised him you were going to exchange gifts this weekend before your families got all tied up in Christmas and dinner and ham, and as you looked out the window again a scowl twisted across your lips.

Stupid winter. And snow. And Christmas. And cold. Then, before you could throw more profanities at the weather outside, the lights flickered.

Off, on. Off, on. Off.

Really off.

You sucked in a gasp, heart racing in your chest, hammering against your ribcage as you slowly felt your way through the inky black hallway toward the kitchen where you’d left your phone. Dammit, where was it? You knew there was nothing to be afraid of, but you'd never admit it – still being scared of the dark.

Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz.

Your phone lit up from the counter, giving you just enough light to cut the rest of the distance to the kitchen – thank god – and when you picked it up a single word beamed up at you: Steve.

Your heart raced even faster, but not because of the dark.

“Hey,” your voice was quieter than usual and you instantly felt like an idiot for letting the power outage get the best of you.

“Oh–hey,” his tone edged on concern, “Are you okay? I was just gonna see if you still wanted me to come over.”

“In this weather? No, way. It’s fine. I’m totally fine,” you tried to be confident, but who were you kidding. It sounded pathetic.

“Totally fine?” he echoed back, unconvinced, and it pulled a sigh from your lungs.

“No. The power’s out.”

“Power’s out? Shit. You got a flashlight? Batteries? Maybe some candles? Damn, babe. Is it cold? I’m coming over.”

“Steve wait! I–” but he was already gone.

It didn’t take him long to get there, and he’d never tell you but he blew the stop sign at the corner, the tires on his BMW sliding against the snow before throwing it into park outside your house.

You poked your head out the door as he rummaged around in his trunk, snow piling up again along your walkway. If he stayed even an hour he’d risk getting stuck.

“What are you doing?” you called out into the snow.

“Brought supplies! Get back inside, s’too cold!” he hollered back, your mouth firming into a line.

“I’m not helpless you know!”

“Yeah, yeah. I know!”

Arms full, of what you couldn’t see, Steve elbowed the trunk shut and awkwardly tromped through the snow to your door.

Had you liked winter even a tiny bit more the scene before you might have been pretty. Picturesque. Street lamps dark and roads quiet. Snow falling silently atop the already glittering ground. A beautiful boy coming up your walkway with a bundle of wood under one arm and a blanket under the other. Soft, white snowflakes clinging to the swoop of hair that fell out from under his beanie into his eyes.

Okay, maybe winter wasn’t so bad.

Arms wrapped around your torso, your lips tugged up into a smile as he finally made it to the top of the steps.

“Hi,” came out a little quiet, a little impish, and it made him smile right back.

“Hi.”

“What’s the plan for that?” you pointed at the bundle of wood and his brow furrowed.

“Make a fire? You don’t have any heat, which–” he nudged you with his chest, “–get back inside, you’re letting all the warmth out.”

Steve kicked the door shut behind him before toeing his boots off and walked across the living room to the fireplace. The one you’d never used. Yanking his hat off, he knelt down with the bundle of wood and started to dig around in the rolled up blanket.

First came a rolled up newspaper for kindling and then, as the blanket fell open, a small, brightly wrapped present with a tiny gold bow on top tumbled out.

He remembered.

Your heart stuttered in your chest and it was like he could sense it, looking up at you with those big brown eyes. Hair a mess, lopsided smile pulling at his lips, cheeks rosy from the cold and god, every bit of him was perfection.

“Got a box of matches? Or a lighter?” he asked, hands still gloved as he started crumpling up balls of newspaper and setting them at the bottom of the fireplace.

“Oh–y–yeah,” you stumbled over your words and reached up onto the mantle for the matches. Even after being together for almost two years, he was still making you trip over yourself.

“Here, this should catch easy,” he tipped the tops of the wood together and took the matches from you. Struck one on the brick chimney and brought the flame back to the paper where it caught and crackled. Licked up the wood and washed the room in a warm glow like an Indiana sunset in July.

He grinned up at you, “See?”

“Pretty good, Harrington,” you couldn’t help grinning back, failing to hide the lovesick look on your face and Steve soaked it all up.

“Mmhm,” he hummed proudly and stood from the floor to press a kiss to your forehead before moving to tug off his coat and gloves.

Your boyfriend.

The one who drove across town to build you a fire.

The one who took the time to wrap your present so perfectly.

The one who still wore his old Hawkins Athletics sweater even though it had holes in it.

The one who didn’t give a shit if his thick wool socks were tugged up over the legs of his sweatpants.

The most perfect combination of sexy and dorky and he was all yours.

Grabbing your hand he pulled you into him. Hands wide and warm as they settled on your hips. Pressed his chest to your back and admired his handiwork as the heat from the fire crept up your legs.

“Much better,” he said hooking his chin over your shoulder. Then, tone softening, he murmured, “Sorry your power’s out…didn’t go how you wanted, huh?”

You grumbled a bit, pouted and nestled into him more.

“No.”

“Poor thing,” he kissed you again, pressed his lips to your cheek, and just as you leaned into it he loosened his hold on you. The absence of his touch made you ache, but before you could protest he was bending down to grab the bright, cheerful looking present still sitting next to the fireplace.

Holding it in his hands he turned back to you and smiled. Warm like summer. Eyes like honey, flecks of gold and amber and so full of fondness.

“I’ve been holding onto this since–” his nose scrunched up in thought, “–shit, almost a year?” His cheeks grew pink as he rubbed at the back of his neck and chuckled at himself. A low, warm thing as he held the gift out to you.

Your brows furrowed together in thought as you worked to try and figure out why he was so flustered. What he could have found a year ago? Where had you been?

Eddie’s show at the Tin Bucket? No.

Flying down to visit Robin and Nance in San Diego? Maybe?

Your road trip to Chicago or the train ride to Minneapolis?

Looking up at him your fingers picked at the tape. Slowly unwrapping it as you wracked your brain trying to figure out what it could possibly be and Steve just beamed at you. The same, silly lovesick look you’d just given him, and a small laugh pushed itself from your lungs.

“Steve, what is it?”

“Just open it.”

You huffed a tiny sound of frustration and dropped your gaze back down the box. Fingers moving a bit faster now to unwrap it, pulled the paper away to reveal a small jewelry box and your chest squeezed tight. Eyes flicking up to look at him as his name fell from your lips, a quiet sound of reverence as he bit back a smile.

“Go on,” he whispered, so you clicked open the box and there in the low light of the fire, a tiny gold chain glittered bright in the orange glow.

Your grandmother’s locket.

The one your grandfather had given to her so many Christmases ago.

The one she’d given to you before you and Steve had started dating.

The one you never took off after she passed away that same summer.

The one who’s tiny hinge had cracked, little gold panels swinging broken like the way your heart felt.

The one that sat atop your dresser because it was too expensive to fix and–

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you bit your lips in to try and stifle the strangled sound that had crept up your throat, but Steve was right there. Hands steady as he carefully took the necklace from the box for you.

“Here.”

His fingers brushed softly against your skin as he laced it around the nape of your neck. Closed the hook and gently pressed it to your chest, fixed and polished and shining like it had the first time it’d been gifted.

You could feel yourself falling apart, could feel the tears falling freely down your cheeks now and Steve pulled you in close. Wrapped his arms around you and held you tight, held you together.

“I love you,” you said into his sweater, voice cracked and wobbling as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

crappymixtape™ •steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist