#so i meet up with this guy on grind on his lunch break

[tallgh0st]

.

[borathae]

↳ Full Art

"You both had a stressful day and relax with a warm bath. Soon the tension gets too much and you decide to do something about it."

Pairing: husband!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Smut

Warnings: switch!Yoongi, switch!Reader, sharing of a bath, making out, lots of touches, nipple play for both, neck kisses, grinding, some dirty talk, praise, he keeps calling her beautiful :'), lotus position, cumming too soon (f. receiving), hair pulling (m. receiving), rimjob with him bend over the edge, handjob, he is just a devoted hubby who loves his wifey oh so much, she loves him just as much <3

Wordcount: 3.6k

a/n: boongles won the poll. you besties have spoken and i am here to deliver <3 i love this lil dude so much, you guys :(🤍 ps: i'm sorry for the delay, life got all too much and i didn't have the energy to finish it in time :(

Yoongi is relaxing in the bathtub when you disturb his precious peace. 

“There you are.”

Yoongi peels one eye open, watching you undress without saying anything. You are talking as you get more and more naked, blind to his rather annoyed state.

“I literally had the weirdest day ever. First the bus driver refused my cash so I had to call a cab instead, then I went to work and nothing happened but then at lunch, I went to Nukim and my card declined. I had to run to the nearest ATM to get more money and broke my heel on the way back. So with one broken shoe and lots of embarrassment I had to continue working and now I’m cold because it’s really windy all of a sudden and I didn’t bring a coat. Oh wow, the water’s so nice. Mhm.”

And you are inside the bath, facing him. 

He is still looking at you with only one eye, tapping his fingers on the edge of the tub. You finally let the situation sink in. He has a glass of whisky by his side and the candles burning. His favourite album to relax to is running in the background. 

“Did you wanna be alone?” 

“No, go ahead. I was just trying to catch a quiet hour”, he says sarcastically.

“I am so sorry. God, I didn’t think. I can leave again if you want me to.”

He dismisses you with a shake of his head, peeling himself off his comfortable position to kiss your cheek.

“Stay. It’s fine.”

“Really? I wouldn’t want to ruin your Me Time.”

“It’s fine. You’re already in the water now. I hope you don’t mind me being quiet though.” 

“No, go ahead. Some quiet will do me well too.” 

Yoongi relaxes again, picking up his glass of whiskey to take a sip. He enjoys it on his tongue, then swallows it with his eyes closing and his head falling back. He keeps both arms under water, relaxing his facial muscles.

You settle back as well, closing your eyes with a sigh. You feel comfortable in relaxing because you know that Yoongi was honest with you. He doesn’t mind that you are here because if he was, he would have told you. You had him telling you to leave him alone a few times in the past, so if he had minded he would have told you. He is honest like that, just as you are always honest with him. It’s what makes your marriage so nice and healthy.

You finish his relaxation album in silence and then Yoongi breaks it by moving around. You open your eyes. He is using his phone, bending over the edge of the bathtub this way. You try not, but still stare. He is sticking out his butt, giving view to his part most private. It looks so pretty and pink. You get glimpses of his balls as well. The warm water made them just as pink. You really want to run your tongue over him. 

Yoongi settles back down after picking out the next album, meeting your eyes.

“Oop”, you let out, looking to the side quickly. 

“Did you just ogle me?” 

“No?” you lie with a nervous chuckle.

Yoongi cocks up his brow.

“Maybe”, you confess, lowering your head, “sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“You’re so dirty sometimes”, he mumbles and relaxes again, closing his eyes.

Now that this conversation is over, you need a few moments to relax as well. You don’t have dirty thoughts per say, but you still don’t want to settle back anymore. The twenty minutes of silence you shared before were already enough to bring you down and now you are craving conversation. But you know better than to disturb him. So you are left gawking at him and wishing for time to pass quicker. 

You stay like this for four songs and then Yoongi sits up to drink. He meets your eyes, covering his chest.

“Why are you staring so much?” he whines.

“Sorry, I don’t know. I guess I got bored.”

“And staring at me is fun?” 

“Immensely actually. You’re really pretty.” 

He scoffs and looks away, reaching for his whiskey. He settles back, drinking it with his eyes racing over your face. He swallows, sits up and gets close. Like this, your thighs are touching and he can run his hand down your waist.

“Your eyes are gonna get stuck if you stare that much”, he whispers with a playful gleam in his eyes.

“No, they won’t”, you chuckle, “you doofus.” 

He chuckles lazily and sips his whiskey. You look at his lips as he does it. He swallows, licks his lips, enjoying the attention with a fluttering pulse. 

“Do you want a sip?” 

You nod your head. 

Yoongi hands you his glass, staring at your lips as you drink from it. You swallow, following it up with a grimace. He laughs, brushing the back of his hand down your cheek.

“You’re cute.”

“It’s good, it’s just strong.”

“Mhm yeah definitely. I felt like it today. Work was stressful.”

“I already figured. Do you want to rant?” 

“Nothing happened. It was just really stressful and left me with a headache.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry. Do you want me to massage you?”

He dismisses you with a shake of his head, “it’s already gone. It was strong when I came home, but it’s gone now.” 

“I’m glad”, you say and rub his arms.

Yoongi finishes his whiskey, putting his glass aside before returning to you. He places both hands on your waist, kneading it gently. 

“Your day was weird, you said?”

“Yeah, really weird. So many annoying things happen.”

“Mhm, they sound annoying. Do you still have your shoes?”

“Yeah, they’re broken by the door. I thought maybe you could take a look at them.”

“I’ll take a look at them.”

“Thank you so much, honey.”

“Of course.”

“Did you have dinner already?”

“Not yet, I wasn’t hungry. You?”

“No, I thought maybe we could cook together. You know, with it being Friday and us having no work tomorrow.”

He smiles with his eyes, nodding his head, “I’d like that”, he says and looks at your lips. He rubs the side of your neck, gazing oh so longingly.

The attention makes your heart race. You touch his shoulders, waiting for him to make the next move.

“You’re so beautiful”, he speaks softly, caressing your cheek just once before returning to your neck.

“Oh wow.” Your heart flutters. “You’re so beautiful too, my honey.”

His eyes soften more. 

“May I?” he asks.

“What do you want to do?” 

“Kiss you.”

“Oh. Yeah, you can kiss me.”

Yoongi leans in, getting lost in the kiss with you. He tastes of whiskey at first, but soon you have it kissed away and only his taste remains. This is so nice to both of you. The water is still warm, the music is relaxing, the touches you share are placed so perfectly right. It couldn’t get any better than this. 

He feels so good under your fingertips. His skin is so soft, his body so warm. You can’t get enough of exploring him, tingling like crazy because he can’t seem to get enough of you either. 

Your bodies draw closer as the minutes pass. When you started out, your middles were far apart, by now they are melted together. His thighs are under yours, his hands are either kneading your waist or lingering under your breasts. Neither he nor you have acted on the sudden closeness, but you can’t deny that it is starting to enchant you just a little.

You hope that Yoongi feels the same, giving him a silent signal by brushing your fingers over his nipples. He purrs deeply, pulling your hips closer in a way that grinds your heat against him. His big hand cups your breast afterwards, finally kneading it the way you wanted him to. He took the hint, communicating his own feelings with just a touch.

You and he feel the same. No words are needed, just skilled touches and needy sounds. You keep your own fingers busy with his nipples, pinching and massaging them as you and he fall into a tongue kiss. His purrs become more and more. He is so sexy in the way he shows his enjoyment. You can’t get enough of all the deep, throaty sounds he makes when you are feeling him up just right. 

You answer him with your own needy noises, driving him just a little wild with them. He loves your sounds. They’re better than any kind of music ever could be. He breaks the tongue kiss to kiss your neck instead. He craves more of your noises and neck kisses always do the trick. This evening is no different. With just the first devoted kiss to your skin, you sigh his name, giving him better access by rolling your head to the side. Yoongi lets his breath swirl over your skin as he kisses you, rolling his hips against you slowly as his hands feel up your torso and his lips place kisses all the way from your ear to your shoulder. 

He changes sides when your breath begins hitching in your throat and your fingers keep sliding down his tummy only to stop when they remember that you don’t have permission to touch yet. He won’t give it to you yet, wanting to bask in you a little longer. Kisses to your neck, feeling your torso and grinding against your warmth is all that he needs, while you are meant to enjoy it because you are his goddess and he is there to shower you in bliss.

He is happy to share this bath with you. His initial distaste of having his silence disturbed ceased to exist the moment you and he shared quiet and he became utterly excited to have you with him. Yoongi really likes baths with you. They are both relaxing and sometimes lead to good, intimate sex. He can really calm down from a stressful day like this, finding great happiness in it because he can make you feel good as well.

He straightens up, breaking the string of saliva connecting him with your marked neck by licking his lips. He soothes the hickeys with rubs of his thumb, gazing at you.

“Feels good”, you get out breathily, barely keeping your eyes open.

“Feels good?” he makes sure.

You nod your head, whimpering.

His eyes soften, he cradles your cheek.

“You’re beautiful”, he whispers, making you shiver with just his words. So he does it again, he praises you, “you’re so fucking beautiful.”

You melt into him, burying your hands in his hair to pull him into a kiss. Yoongi moans, giving you access to his mouth instantly. You know just to kiss him to scramble his mind and get him purring just for you. The heat between your legs increases, the speed of your grinds does as well. Soon it is almost unbearable to handle and the kiss breaks with needy mewls from both of you.

“I really need to-”

“Just do it, I want it”, Yoongi interrupts you, tugging at your hips.

This is all you needed. You climb atop his lap and sink him into you, tilting his head back with a tug to his hair so you could taste his initial moan. He always gets noisy when he sinks inside. Tonight’s no different. He has his eyes barely open, taking what you give him with parted lips. He bottoms out soon enough, whispering a quiet “fuck” as his hands dimple your buttocks.

“Mine”, you whisper, picking up a needy rhythm.

Yoongi rolls his eyes back and closes them completely, choking out a breathy “yours”.

“Say it again.”

“Yours…all yours…”

“Fuck Yoongi, I’m obsessed with you”, you moan and drop your forehead against his’, chasing the ecstasy of being with him in needy grinds. Like this, his cock is so deep and because you never bounce on him, he also never stops rubbing against your favourite spot. His tummy puts pressure on your clit, adding electric bliss to the connection. Fuck, he’s got you charged. Everything about this feels so fucking good.

Yoongi groans, dragging them out until he has to gasp for new air. The tug on his hair is addictive, tasting your shaky breaths on his lips is making him dizzy. He is yours. He really fucking is. No one has ever gotten and will ever get him as hard as you get him. He’s addicted with every second, looking forward to the next one the moment the last passed. He wishes for this to never stop. He loves to love you in such ways. 

His hands are on your hips, helping you move as much as they are trying to keep you moving. He would pass out if you stopped right now. It feels so good that missing out on even one second would be torture. The bath warmed you up so much that your soft walls are burning in the best way possible. Not even the hottest bath water could warm him up as much as you can.

“Feels so good”, he chokes out.

“Yeah, feels so good”, you agree breathlessly.

He shivers, “oh god, I missed you”, he chokes out with his voice just slightly pitched.

“Yoongi”, you croak, suddenly losing every kind of composure as his sappy confession throws you over a surprise edge, “fuck, oh god.”

Yoongi opens his eyes, holding his breath.

“Are you?”

“Yes”, you scrunch your face, hiding it in his shoulder a second later, “you fucking sap, urgh.”

Yoongi chuckles, helping you ride it out with gentle guidance. He really didn’t expect you to climax so soon, but he doesn’t dislike it. It turns him on so good to know that he can make you lose control so soon.

“You’re the sap”, he teases, earning himself a nudge to his chest the moment your high died down.

“You’re awful, fuck”, you get out as you catch your breath.

“Why?” he laughs.

“Cause you made me lose control.”

“So?”    

“Brat”, you say and sink into him, “fuck, that just fucked me. Wow.”

“Mhm, I could feel it”, he says, sliding his hands to your ass to squeeze it, “was it nice for you?”

“Yeah, so nice.”

“I’m glad to hear that, my honey. Uhm. Can I maybe have one too?”

“Mhm, you’re so sexy”, you purr, peeling yourself off of him despite your dizzy head, “I want you to bend over the edge. Okay?”

He gulps, nodding his head obediently.

“Good boy”, you praise, slipping off his cock. “Go on.”

Yoongi scrambles to his knees and bends over the edge, arching his back.

“You know why I want you like this, don’t you?” you ask him, rubbing his hips as you place yourself behind him. His butt looks so yummy. You can’t wait to dig in.

“Yeah”, he sighs, resting his head on the edge in preparation. He already has his eyes closed and you haven’t even started yet.

“And that’s okay with you?” you make sure just in case.

“Yeah, so okay.”

“You drive me insane, seriously.”

With his clear consent, you finally lean down, swirling your tongue down his spine until you have his hole under it. You swerve past it just to rile him up, kissing and licking the back of his thighs until your tongue naturally feels his balls under it. 

“Mhm, my honey”, you purr, sucking on his tender skin while your hands massage his hips. 

“Nice”, he sighs, feeling warm all over. He loves your mouth on him. He really does. You always tease him, saying that he likes it a little too much, but Yoongi won’t let it faze him. He does love it a little too much, but how couldn’t he? When you are so skilled in everything you do.

“Mhm, so nice. So fucking nice”, you whisper between your adoration. You nuzzle into him, giving his balls a little kiss before you finally incorporate your tongue as well. You want to trace every inch of them with the tip of your tongue. He deserves it for being the cutest.

Yoongi shivers, finding it just a little bit more difficult to breathe. He has really sensitive balls and your tongue tickles in the kind of way where he wants to tense up because otherwise it’s too difficult to handle. 

“You’ve got the prettiest balls, my honey”, you lull, sighing happily as you guide your tongue up to his taint.

One flick. Two flicks. You move further up with the third flick, swirling your tongue around his hole without touching it.

Yoongi can’t help but squirm and keen a giggle.

“Heh”, you let out, smiling against him, “needy?” 

“Needy, yeah.” He sticks his butt out more. “Please.” 

“You’re such a delight, fuck”, you purr and finally give him what you denied him for way too long. You press your tongue to his hole, exploring it in circular motions.

Yoongi moans loudly and presses back onto you, feeling a whole body shiver course through him. The short moment where he was outside the water and you licked him everywhere but his hole, cooled him down so much that your tongue feels like addictive fire on his rim now that he finally has it. 

“Good?” 

“Good, good, yeah good. Ah-ahmm.”

You purr and hum deliciously, tracing his rim with just your tip. His noises encourage you so fucking much. He tastes a hundred times yummier when he’s that vocal.

“Good, so good. Ah, ah aah…”

This is better than you had imagined it to be. He is so goddamn yummy. Every inch of him and especially on his pretty rim. You break away to rile him up with your words. Make him needy again, take it away so he whines. 

He whines. Of course he does.

“I've wanted to do this to you ever since I first watched you bend over.”

Yoongi mewls, sticking his butt closer to your face. If you don’t return soon, he will start cursing.

“You’ve got the yummiest butt, my honey”, you purr, burying yourself back in his peach. You moan throatily, flicking your tongue up and down his hole in sync with your hand slipping to his front. You pick up his cock, jerking it off quickly.

“Fuck, ah…fuck”, Yoongi moans, wheezing for air as you make his legs twitch and shake. He expected anything but this and it’s ruining him.

“Like it?” you ask, swirling your tongue quickly.

“Yeah, like it”, he mewls, fucking back onto your tongue as much as he fucks your fist. He won’t last long like this. It is already amazing enough to have you eat his ass, a handjob on top of that is way too fucking powerful for poor, little Yoongi.

“Like it too, you taste so good. Fuck, Yoongi.”

You put pressure on his rim. It gives up embarrassingly fast, allowing your tongue to wiggle inside the first inch. It’s not enough to graze his prostate, it’s not even enough to really fill him, but it still gives him a gentle stretch and Yoongi loves that. He keens your name, thanking you even when he is so utterly out of breath. His cock is twitching in your hand. Your touch is sending constant hot electricity down his legs.

Encouraged by his noises, you keep the rhythm going, feeling on ecstasy yourself. To think that there were times in your marriage where butts were a no-no-zone. That you and he really went years without exploring this area. Oh, you missed out on so much fun. 

You increase the skill, wanting him to catch up on all the fun he missed out. You might have started off late, but you are hellbent on making up for it. He needs his ass ate as if it was your last fucking meal. You slurp, you growl, you suck and feast loudly. And he is shivering over and over again, hearing his pulse in his ears.

“Holy fuck, it feels so good. How are you doing that?” he moans, trembling when you purr into him and pick up speed.

You can do even better. This is what you are trying to tell him right now. You will outdo yourself even if it steals your air and makes your arm beg for a break. You will get him to a point of complete loss of control, where he can only shake and writhe and wail your name. You will and you are.

And Yoongi falls into his most natural state: moaning your name repeatedly until the only vowels his brain knows are yours.

It takes Yoongi seven more strokes and then he announces his orgasm with a pitched moan, followed with whole body shakes and graphic curses about how good it feels. You moan with him, helping him ride it out with skilled touches and your tongue pumping in and out of him. You keep it going until he begins fleeing, doing so with shaky gasps for air.

“No, no more. No more.”

“Mhhm, My yummy peach”, you lull, soothing him with kisses up his spine and your hands rubbing his tummy.

“You’re insane, seriously”, he pants, resting his forehead on the edge of the bathtub while his hands tangle over it. He is still twitching occasionally, recovering oh so very slowly.

You snicker, “yeah, most definitely and you like that I am.”

He scoffs, chuckling deeply, “fuck, I can’t even deny it.”

“Gosh Yoongi”, you back hug him, nuzzling your cheek against his upper back, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He straightens up and turns, hugging you against his chest. You melt with him, humming contently.

“What a way to de-stress”, he says, “wow, I’m done for.”

“Yeah, what a way”, you agree with a smile.

“Sooo, what’s for dinner?” he asks jokingly, making you laugh.

“I mean, I already started with dessert so whatever you want.”

He laughs.

“Don’t say that”, he whines.

“Why?”

“Cause, I’m shy”, he mumbles with an obvious pout.

“Gosh, you cutie you.”

[endlessthxxghts]

Hungry

Frankie Morales x afab!reader | W/C: 1.7k

Summary: You decide to go home on your lunch break. You call to see if your boyfriend can join you.

Content/Warnings: No physical descriptions of reader. No “y/n”. Implied that Frankie and you live together. Porn with a sprinkle of plot. 18+ MDNI!! Oral sex (both receiving). Face riding turned 69…Cumming untouched (kind of?). Cum eating. Please do let me know if I missed anything!!!

A/N: HI GUYS I’VE MISSED YOU. I’m on my university campus from 9-5, and I had a particularly rough day, so I went home on my lunch break (which I normally don’t do), and instead of lunch, I did something else. This was that something else. I hope you enjoy.👹

MASTERLIST || NOTIFS BLOG

He picks up after one ring. “Baby? What’s wrong?” 

You don’t usually call him during your work day—the lab being too hectic even on your lunch break to enjoy anything other than the lunch you packed yourself. 

“Nothing, I just- I miss you,” you tell him softly. 

Today, though…Today is different. You’re exhausted and your other team members are also having a slow day, so you decide to call your boyfriend. You also decide that you deserve lunch off-site: in the comfort of your own home. 

“I miss you, querida,” Frankie says, returning your warmth and gentleness tenfold. 

Gods, his voice. The deep, softness of his voice never fails to make the butterflies flutter in your belly. And also… further below. You can’t help the next words that fall from your mouth. 

“I want you.”

Only then does he realize—you’re not at the lab. He doesn’t hear the hustle and bustle of research going on in the background, he doesn’t even hear the air conditioning that’s always blasting in the break room. He’s called you once while you were on site, and he learned his lesson then. So, seeing you call today prompted him to think there was an emergency. And in his realization—yes, this is very much an emergency, but not the one he was expecting. 

“You’re home, aren’t you?” He asks, really not needing the confirmation but obliges anyway. 

“Yeah,” you say breathily. 

“Do not go anywhere. Be there in ten, baby.”

“Make it five,” you whimper, ending the call, not wanting the formalities of a goodbye, too hung up on your dire need for him to handle hearing his voice without being able to touch him. 

Frankie does make it home in five—taking my forty-five! he calls out to his boss as he walks out with no time for extra conversation. Professionally, that really wouldn’t do, but luckily, he’s always been on the good side of his superior. 

“Querida!” He calls out as he enters the front door. 

As soon as he’s through the door, you’re on him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he drops the keys in his hands to fully engulf you. The kiss is needy, desperate. You can’t help the moans already falling from your lips, and he’s just as eager to swallow them up. You do a mini jump, your legs wrapping around his waist, as he walks you two to your shared bedroom.

As he nears the edge of the bed, you untangle your legs from around him so he can sit down. But as soon as he’s hitting the bed, you’re straddling him once again, licking into his mouth as you grasp at the nape of his neck, your needy center grinding into his hard length. 

Frankie’s lips break from yours, trailing kisses down your jaw, passing your chin, and settling on your neck, nipping and sucking the sweet spots that always have your hips bucking wildly into him, begging for more. He can feel the heat radiating from your center, his cock leaking at the sensation.

However, neither of you really have much time before you need to return to your respective jobs, and Frankie simply needs to eat. 

His fingers meet the hem of your bottoms, pulling them down as you move your body around, allowing them to come down with ease. 

Frankie starts leaning back, his hands trailing back to the meat of your thighs, grabbing them tightly and nudging you up his torso. 

“F-Frankie, what-” you stutter, breathless and mind hazy from your makeout session. 

You’re on your knees now, situated above his shoulders, your gaze looking down into his. “Sit,” is all he tells you. 

“Frankie… we’re both on a clock here,” your voice waivers. Hesitant. When Frankie eats you out, he eats, and most of the time, he’ll continue out of his own pleasure well after however many orgasms he pulls out of you in this way.

“Just gonna make you cum, querida, promise,” he smirks, mischief written all over his face.

Without another word, he grabs your thighs, and forces your entire weight onto him, your thighs immediately clenching in the feeling as his tongue glides through your soaked folds. “Oh- Fuck,” you gasp, the pleasure hitting you all at once. 

You can feel his smirk as your breathing grows heavier and your hips start to move on their own. Realizing what your body’s asking for, Frankie lifts you off of him and urges you to turn around. You don’t understand what for until his hands are guiding yours to grip onto his waist—your torso leaning forward at the movement. 

Oh. 

Oh, you like this. A lot. 

In this angle, your pelvis opens up more for him, and you have more support to be able to freely grind against his face. This was Frankie’s main reason for repositioning you, but he didn’t realize what he just did. You now have complete access to the part of him that’s been throbbing for your attention. 

Slowly, you let one of your hands glide upwards to his belt, the twang of his belt buckle making your mouth drool in response. Frankie pulls away momentarily. “What- what are you doing?” He asks, voice hoarse and utterly aroused at what you’re about to do. 

You smile to yourself at his question. “Just keep eating, baby,” you say, pushing your sex back into his face, his nose nudging a particularly sensitive spot making you moan at the contact. You can feel the way he groans into you, the vibrations sending more slick for him to greedily drink up. 

You finally get his cock free from the restraining khakis, and your pussy flutters at the view. He’s painfully hard, his tip red and precum all over. You put him into your mouth, swirling the head with your tongue to collect everything he’s giving you. You lift off him with a pop, a moan and a so fucking good leaving your mouth before you spit on him—watching his cock twitch as your drool drips down his length. 

You pump his cock a few times to spread the mixture of your spit and his precum down his length. Satisfied, you take him back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and flattening your tongue, pushing him as far back as you possibly can. Your gag reflex triggers then, your throat constricting around where he’s most sensitive, and he whimpers at the feeling, momentarily pausing his attention on you.

Using your gag to your advantage, you don’t stop bobbing up and down on his length, the sloppiness of it all sending him into a horny spiral. He loves having his mouth on you, but the feel of your mouth on him has his eyes rolling back to his head, his tongue slowing in his strokes as his body buzzes in the pleasure you’re giving him. His hips start fucking up into your mouth, and you moan around him, getting spurred on at his desperation. 

“F-fuck-” he grunts. “Taking me- fuck- taking me so fucking good,” Frankie sighs, head falling back into the mattress. You almost made him forget his task at hand—which you genuinely wouldn’t mind because he’s always putting your pleasure first—but as soon as the fact hits him, oh, he’s going in. 

Frankie grabs onto your waist, forcing your entire center flush against his face as he brings your clit to his mouth, sucking and nipping at it with a calculated intensity—the feeling radiating up your spine and down into your toes—hurtling you towards your orgasm within seconds. His cock slips from your mouth at his action, but right now, you really can’t think about anything else. 

“Oh, yes, Frankie-” you gasp, “fuck, I’m gon- I’m gonna cum, please,” you whine, your cunt grinding wildly into his face. 

“Mmmm,” he grunts. Cum for me, querida, you know he’s telling you. 

Your orgasm is blinding, eyes clamped shut as your mouth mindlessly babbles praises to the man underneath you. “Oh my- oh fuck, you’re so-” you pant, unable to catch your breath at the intensity. “Good God, Frankie,” you whine.

Although you stopped paying attention to his thick member, the way your body convulses above him sends him to his own edge, cum shooting out and landing across his lower tummy, nearly half a centimeter away from splashing your face. You don’t realize this until after your breathing has slowed, your eyes finally peeling open and peering at the pooling milky liquid near his belly button. 

As much as you can in your exhausted state, you pull your head up and dart your tongue out, coating every part of your tongue with his cum, a squeaky little sigh escaping you at the taste of his salty musk. 

“Christ, baby,” you hear him mutter when he feels your tongue tickling across his surface. 

You untangle yourself from his body, repositioning so your head is in alignment with his. “That was fun,” you say casually before pressing a lengthy kiss to his lips, tongue sneaking into his mouth, exchanging each other’s flavor. 

“Yeah? Wanna go for round two?” Frankie asks, a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“Frankie!” You scold, slapping his chest. “We’re on a lunch break—no, we can’t go for round two!” 

He pouts at you, bringing his hand up to cradle the back of your head, pulling you into one more kiss before you both have to leave again. As if your colleagues are watching you, both yours and his phone ring right as your lips begin to touch. 

Jumping off the bed, you ignore your bottoms on the floor and run straight to your phone, answering it with your last name. 

“Hey. No rush, but when do you think you’ll be back? Dr. Mowak is ready for your report if you are,” your lab assistant tells you. 

Oh, fuck. 

“Hey, yeah, I’m on my way back now, I accidentally caught up with a last minute… emergency,” you say, a little awkwardly. 

You hear a soft chuckle behind you. You turn around to see Frankie with a boyish grin, winking at you. 

You roll your eyes at him, but the butterflies flutter all the same. 

Or maybe it’s your stomach growling. 

Shit, you’re hungry. 

If you’d like to see more, check out my masterlist or follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to be updated on my new stories!! Much love to you all, thank you so much for reading and interacting with my silly little delusional self. 🫶🏼🫶🏼

@pedrostories

[mygnolia]

get better! | 3. meet my neighbor ig???

SMAU! synopsis -› in which your neighbor and popular twitch streamer park sunghoon breaks his arm, so he switches to vlog style content that matches up with yours! now everyone’s curious why 1) you have a cute boy in your apartment, 2) sunghoon’s not on his grind anymore, and 3) when are you two going to date!?

(2.2K WORDS, cw: food, y/n collects smiskis and sony angels LOLL)

You open the door to see a fist about to rain bruises on your forehead- and Sunghoon doesn’t expect for you to answer so quickly. He immediately retracts his hand, an apology tumbling from his lips as he drops his head in embarrassment. You wave it off, inviting him into your apartment.

“Welcome to my humble abode.” You greet, turning to face him expectantly, waiting for him to say something.

Sunghoon stares at the bare walls. “It’s…very new.” He comments, unsure of how to take in the plants in one corner, fluffy rug, half built coffee table, and extensive video editing equipment all ready to go near your balcony.

“What do I get for being the world’s best teacher?” You start. “Will you even let me on your stream?”

He cracks a smile. “Of course. You’ll have your own verified twitch badge and everything, too. What did you need help with, by the way?”

“I need to unpack my wall decorations. You’re tall,” You mention, walking towards another labeled brown box. “You can help me hang up my pictures.” You reach for cardboard with ‘photos’ scribbled over in marker, setting it down in front of Sunghoon. “Those two.” You point, and his eyes follow. “I marked on the wall where they all go.”

Sunghoon at least knows how to keep quiet, working with an efficiency as he refers to the pictures you’ve sent of where you want everything to go. You both move floppy potted plants near couches and decorate them with proper rugs and throw pillows. You realize how much better it is to have a second person, even if he was down an arm. Your living space changes from something plain, and as Sunghoon describes, ‘new,’ into something more personable.

“Help me build this shelf.” You say, and he frowns, looking at his right arm in a cast.

“And How am i supposed to do that?”

His words make you pause, forgetting that Sunghoon can’t just build furniture for you. “Okay. Let’s build it together. Then, I’ll set up my figurines, and I’ll help you film.”

With a nod from the streamer, you make your way towards the box, slowly taking out the pieces as Sunghoon lays them out. He eyes them carefully, making sure they’re in the right piles and opening the plastic.

“Okay, it says….I need..Where’s piece 236?”

He sighs and leans over, reading the instructions properly.

“It says 23 and 6.”

You frown, almost hitting him when you turn around to scowl. “Close enough.”

It continues that way for a while, and you finally finish building the cute shelf, leaning it against the wall and starting to put the figurines on as Sunghoon adds succulents to your kitchen.

“Let’s eat.” You half yell half suggest across the spacious room. “I’m hungry.”

“But we haven’t even filmed anything.”

You grab your keys off the kitchen counter and ignore him. “I’m craving toast.”

He laughs, following you down to the elevator. “You eat like a Victorian child.” Biting your lip, you pretend to be offended.

“And you look like one.” You weakly retort.

You make sure to bring your recording stick and smaller camera, playing with the settings before you record. “Hi guys!” Waving to the camera, you pan it over to Sunghoon, tilting it up for the camera to catch a glimpse of the mysterious figure next to you. “We’re getting lunch!” Across the parking garage, you see the somewhat busy cafe, but as one couple leaves, you usher Sunghoon to take the spot, commenting slightly to the camera.

When done ordering, the food comes in a cute yplace decorated with small animal doodles. As influencers, you’re both aware of the plaster social media life you have to live, taking out our phones and snapping photos that scream ‘date.’

Sunghoon pans the camera over, and the device catches the steam from the thick fluffy bread as he cuts a small piece, showing to the camera before trying it.

You stare at him, waiting for any change in expression.

“It’s really good, ____. Try it.” He nods, agreeing with the 5 star reviews.

“I got my egg a little crispy on the end,” You tell the recording, holding up a piece you cut before eating. Despite the simplicity, the eggs are well cooked and seasoned, and the addition of small vegetables on the side makes for a light meal. It’s not expensive, and in your opinion, it shouldn’t be- it’s literally eggs and toast. After a bit of small talk regarding the menu, you both agree to stop the recording.

Sunghoon speaks up. “I might have to leave early. The groupchat is telling me they want to play League of Legends.”

You falter, confused. “But you can’t even play.” Sunghoon’s heard the line so many times and rolls his eyes, exasperated. “I’ll just sit on stream and cheer them ob, or something.”

While you’re in no place to direct him around, you definitely have the means to judge Sunghoon a little for the things he does. “You work, right? Not just streaming?”

“Of course,” He answers casually, wiping the table and stacking the plates. “I am just another computer science major with an internship.” His tone makes you laugh, and you mirror his actions to make sure your table is clean, before returning the plates and leaving.

Despite inviting a stranger into your home for business talk, you seem to get along despite your rough start online, and he seems to not take anything too personally; a huge relief for you. When back in your apartment, you grab your better camera, making sure it’s properly adjusted to the sunlight that shines through and lights your living space.

After a glance around the room to take in how much work you two did, he speaks up. “What about the shelf, and your figurines?”

“Don’t worry about it. I want the natural lighting in the video.” You refer to how you want to avoid filming late.

Sunghoon leans back, observing not only the brand but also how easily you mess around with the features, keeping a mental note of the model.

“Smile.” You tell him, pointing the camera up to Sunghoon. He flashes a grin, and the corner of your lips turn up as the perfect amount of exposure makes for a great video cover. He raises an eyebrow, and you turn the camera around, showing him how it turned out, and he’s satisfied.

“Cute.” He mumbles.

“You love telling yourself that, huh?” You shake your head, mock disappointment on your features.

“I voice the general public.” He defends, smiling as he watches you get out your laptop and open a word document. “What’s that for?”

“Ideas.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I have plenty.”

You patiently watch as he rummages for his phone through his pocket and finding his notes app. Sunghoon’s positive he’s come prepared, practicing a sweet tone in the mirror and styling his hair just right.

He scrolls and scrolls.

It’s empty.

“Plenty?”

“In my head.” Sunghoon plays it off with a sheepish expression, suddenly embarrassed. You laugh at his sudden change in demeanor, continuing to tease him.

“Thanks for all of your help, mister ‘hooniebee.’

“I was trying to come up with video ideas last night, actually! I just fell asleep before I could write it down.”

“And you didn’t remember anything, huh?” You grin at the way he shrinks on your pink couch, quick to jot down some of the lingering thoughts from last night’s brainstorming.

“I’d say we start off with a ‘simple get to know you.’ Sunghoon’s suggestion is the same as yours, and you’re relieved to share the same train of thought.

Your excitement to teach him is infectious, and Sunghoon understands why people like you so much. Even if your stuff is still in some boxes or in the wrong places, you really do live an almost perfect life, and your beaming personality is no different.

“When it comes to vlogging, you learn what people like to hear. For my audience, they love to know about some video schedule updates as I’m doing small tasks, or simple life updates and explanations. If you’re as boring as the internet makes you out to be, then you got to start overexplaining.” He scoffs, crossing his arms the best he can with his cast.

“I’m not boring!” Sunghoon counters, running a hand through his hair and making himself presentable. “Start recording. Your audience will love me.”

You smile, clicking record without letting him know. “You sure?”

He nods. “Pickles Fan Club will become my fans. Promise.”

You turn to the camera, flashing a bright smile.

“Thinking and thinking about… Hi everyone! It’s ___ and you’re here rent free!” Your introduction is cute, and Sunghoon realizes that when you pause, it’s his turn to introduce himself, and he panics.

“Buzz Buzz.” He hurries, a wave of embarrassment crashing over him. You laugh, motioning at the camera to cut this part out through your quiet laughter.

“That’s not bad at all!” You promise, turning to him. Sunghoon gives you a blank stare, and your optimistic look fades just a bit. “You just can’t sound like you hate saying it.” You advise. “Buzz Buzz…what you do call your fans?”

He pauses, heat rushing to his face. He glances up, noticing the way you raise your eyebrow as you wait.

“Bae-bees.”

A grin spreads across your face, and you can’t help but find amusement in the situation. “Bae-bees??”

Sunghoon rubs his face with his one hand, waving you off. “They like it.” He promises weakly. “You named your fans after your cat.”

“So be it.” You conclude, turning to the still recording camera. “Say it.”

He shakes his head, letting out a quiet groan of disapproval before sucking in a breath, flashing a bright smile at the camera, and you anxiously watch. “Buzzin’ over here is your favorite Hooniebee! Hi guys!” He offers a little wave, and looks at you for approval.

Your satisfaction is plastered all over your starry smile. “That was really good.” You praise, and Sunghoon smiles, suddenly feeling bashful.

You turn the camera back, and start talking about what you two plan to talk about in your video. You introduce the mysterious boy as your broken armed neighbor, and you two laugh about how you met, listening as he teases you and reads direct quotes of texts from his phone. You two have natural chemistry in front of the camera, and whether that’s from your personalities or your ability to perform in front of a camera, you’re not sure.

You continue to ask questions about him, almost like a podcast as you two exchange witty banter and comments. You talk about his college life, he shares some drunken interactions, and talks about how much he appreciates his fans for sticking along. You think it’s all very sweet, the way he talks about his ‘bae-bees’ with so much adoration. You chime in, agreeing with Sunghoon’s thankful comments.

“I think that’ll be enough for the getting to know you part! We should do a quick apartment tour.” You pick up the camera, adjusting any hair and making a face before panning it over to Sunghoon, who just waves. His still slightly awkward demeanor can’t be helped, but it makes him all the more swoon-worthy to everyone who sees him.

You ramble about what you’ve started to put together, reminiscing to your long time fans about certain pieces of memorabilia that you had to let go. Sunghoon follows you around and adds a bit of commentary, even if it’s only to make jokes or make fun of you for not being able to build an ikea shelf around him.

The video ends when your half finished apartment has been toured, and you cut the recording after some cheerful waves to the camera.

“How do you think?” Sunghoon looks over at you when you ask for his input, nodding.

“I think it went pretty well. Pretty natural, or at least I hope. I’m not too boring, am I?” Sunghoon rubs at his neck sheepishly, and it takes a refusal from you for him to look up.

Offering him a nod of a approval, you say, “You did great, everyone will love it.”

Finally looking over the recording, you realize you might have to raise Amber’s pay, for how much footage there is.

prev. | ml. | next.

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[joemama-2]

THE LESS I KNOW THE BETTER

gojo x reader

tags/warning: angst, gojo past arc, getou defect

————————————————————-

gojo didn't know what you two were. sure you guys were friends and acted like it, but that didn't seem completely right. do friends usually sleep in each other's bed at night cuddling? do they make each other breakfast and dinner? hold onto one another like they're your lifeline? but you two weren't a couple either. he had made that completely obvious way early on, and you were fine with that. at least that's what he thought.

he should be fine with it too. really, he has no reason to hold you back from talking to other people, meeting other people, doing....things with other people. you guys are still teenagers and he doesn't shy away from the fact that he does every single one of those things. so, why?

why does he feel a foreign, almost nauseating feeling in his stomach, rising up to his throat as if he wants to vomit his lunch? why do his muscles tense and fists clench? he's grinding his teeth so hard he begins to feel a headache take place. his eyebrows form a deep crease in the middle. but none of that matters right now. because he has the sudden overwhelming urge to kick something. or someone.

suguru and you are completely unaware of his presence, too caught up in your own stupid, little worlds that you can't even look at him. or, you do know he's there, but don't care. he's not sure what's worse. however, that's the least of his concerns.

it's the fact that suguru is looking at you with such tenderness, his thumbs running across the smooth skin under your eyes. he's treating you like you're fragile, priceless. and you're enjoying it.

what the hell is going on? since when were you two even acquainted like that? not only is he disgusted by his so called "best friend" trying to make a move on you, but he's disgusted that you don't even push him away. and the small kiss you give him on the tip of his nose really does it for satoru. that was his thing, you were only supposed to do that for him, to him. now you're going behind his back and being lovey dovey with someone who is off limits?

wow, you really were the worst, weren't you?

the words we're not together ring in his ears after he confronts you about the little show you put on for him.

it shouldn't bother him, but it does. why? he put these rules in place, it was his doing, his boundaries. you were just accepting that. so could he really be mad at you? be mad that you were not putting distance between you two and directing your affection, your love towards his friend.

no, he shouldn't. but he is.

no amount of other girls, other kisses he receives, and other touches could live up to you and your soft, welcoming hands. he can't help but see you everywhere he turns. you're all he can think about and it's slowly killing him. because you don't look the least bit affected by the sudden change.

and suguru is the reasoning behind that. he gave you what satoru couldn't.

but even after all his inner turmoil, satoru can't find it in him to be angry at you. so, he welcomes the distance, attempting to prove to himself that he can go without you, that you guys weren't serious in the first place. it gets harder and harder when you come to him spilling and raving about the newest dates and gifts suguru gave you.

is it on purpose? are you breaking his heart on purpose?

but with the warm smile on your face and that twinkle in his eye, one that he never saw when you were with him, he knows you're happy with suguru. and he listens, even offering advice on whatever problems you guys go through. not like he wants to hear any of it. he hates hearing it. he doesn't want to know about anything you two go through, because that same bile feeling from before forms.

so, he starts pushing you away. stops you before you can even mutter suguru's name. he limits the time you spend with him, making up excuses so he can't see you. the less he knows, the better.

until, one drunken night, he's left confused and angry with himself. you had snagged a bottle of cheap alcohol from yaga and came to him. you two used to drink together, before everything changed and suguru got in the way. you were persistent, telling him how much you missed him, almost pleading him. it was pathetic. you had suguru, why were you coming to him?

but just like how he can't get mad at you, he can't deny you.

you don't know how it happened. but you end up crying to him, venting about a recent fight between you and suguru. satoru isn't sure how to comfort you, he's never even seen you cry before. so he does what he knows best, he kisses you.

with intoxication playing a factor, things escalate from there.

"wait ten years, we'll be together."

can he trust you? you're both drunk and high off lust, he's not even sure you know what you're saying. you're probably gonna regret it, if you remember. but he plays into it, the small sliver of hope that's been manifesting taking over.

"don't make me wait forever."

and satoru knew suguru wasn't the same after the death of riko. he knew things were different. it hurt seeing his best friend slowly deteriorate and become an entirely new person. but what hurt even more?

the fact that you stook by his side through it all. you withstood his distance, dismissive attitudes, his harsh words that he spit out when all you wanted to do was comfort him.

why didn't you leave him? stand up for yourself? why are you putting yourself through this?

satoru just wants to shake you and wake you up from this stupid headspace you're in. this isn't like you. but no amount of convincing could help. because in the end, you loved suguru, not satoru.

that's why you left with him after being made aware of what he did.

losing his best friend is one thing, but losing his first love was another.

wait, love? did he love you? satoru can't find the answer to that.

satoru forces himself to forget about you, he gets rid of everything that reminds him of you, everything you gifted him, every picture of you.

out of sight, out of mind.

and it works for a few years. he has too many other things on his plate.

so it's concerning to him when he sees you for the first time on December 24th, 2017.

ten years.

you're not the same as when he last saw you. you've matured, features more defined. he won't deny you look beautiful. but there's one thing he can see, the twinkle in your eyes is long gone. your eyes look empty, like two black holes. they're dim and misty, and he hates it.

you're that devoted to suguru? seriously?

why? why are you still doing this?

satoru finds his answer. because he was doing fine before he saw you. he was doing fine before your eyes turned away from him.

————————————————————-

a/n: not my best work but i've been obsessed with this song for a few days now and thought of this.

[inuiiwonderland]

Twisted captivity

Chapter 5

Twst third years x fem reader

Words: 850

A/n: I am SO not back on my grind….very sorry for a LATE and SHORT chapter😖😖

-

Curse Crowley and curse your parents for encouraging you to get this job.

You were up ALL night reading and going through the stacks of papers Crowley so graciously gave you the other day.

Only getting a good 2 hours worth of sleep before hearing your alarm going off.

Damn you crowley

You forcefully slammed open the heavy doors of the Octavinelle enclosure. Bucket of fish in your right hand while your left held your bag that had all your books, journals and your own food.

Your jaw drops at the sight of octavinelle. The whole area had a beautiful blue glow as waterfalls and caves came into view.

“How the hell is he able to afford all of this??” You say to no one in particular. You continue to look around in awe as you put down the bucket and your bag. Unaware of the mismatched eyes watching you, you quickly grab your journal and pen.

“I say Crowley did an amazing job designing this whole thing…or maybe crewel!” You continue to mumble to yourself. The sudden sound of water Splashing and the feeling of cold water hitting your back brought you back as you gasp and quickly turn around.

“What the-“ Your eyes go wide as you see the one responsible for throwing water at you. He cackles as he points at you. You frown as you watch the mer- or eel?? Continue to laugh at you.

“Not very funny” The eel stops and tilts his head before opening his mouth.

“Funny. Very”

Ah so he knows how to speak

“You must beeee” You try to remember the name of the eel in front of you. After all, you were up all night studying everyone's files.

“Floyd!” The eel smiles in delight. Showing off rows of razor sharp teeth as he nods.

“Ah and if I remember correctly, you have a twin?” He smiles even wider at the mention of his twin brother.

“Jade!”

“Right” before you can ask any more questions, he quickly dives back underwater.

“Wait! I still have one more question…” You sulk at the amount of times you've been ignored by the mers in this facility.

And father said this was supposed to be a fun job

Another splash of water caught your attention. You look up to see Floyd but this time he wasn’t alone.

“Jade!” He points. The other eel that looks almost identical to his brother eyed you in curiosity. He then smiles as he waves. You awkwardly wave back as Floyd just looks excited.

“Anyways…I brought food!” And just like that, almost all of the mers that were hiding came up at the mention of food. You gasp as everyone comes out of their hiding spots.

“Sevens you guys must be hungry” you mumble out as you grab the bucket and start feeding them.

After you made sure everyone had their fair share of food, you look down at the bucket to see you still had some extra.

“Hey floyd” he perks up at the mention of his name. He turns to you and tilts his head. Curious.

“Is there anyone else who needs to be fed? I still have some extra” He thinks for a moment before quickly diving back down. Seconds later he comes back up with someone squirming against his hold.

“Azul! He’s hungry!” The octo mer that was just struggling moments ago stops before his whole face turns blue.

He must feel embarrassed

“There’s no need to be embarrassed. If I’m being honest I’m hungry too but I have a few more hours until my lunch break” You say with a sigh. He slowly turns to look at you as you hand him his food. He looks at your hands and then you before quickly grabbing it and swimming back down.

“Is he a shy one?” You ask.

“Very” You giggle before looking at the watch on your wrist.

“Well it was nice meeting you guys. But unfortunately it’s time for me to go” As you stand up, you feel a webbed hand clasp on your wrist. You turn to see that it was Floyd. He wore a frown as he tried to pull you back down.

“Uhh can you let me go? Please?” The eel mer just stared at you and you tried to pull his hand away but it was no use. He was strong.

“Floyd” He quickly lets go when he hears jades voice. The two seem to talk in their language before Floyd rolls his eyes and dives back down underwater. Jade gives you an apologetic smile before doing the same.

You stood there for a good minute before remembering an important piece of information that you read in Floyd’s file.

Name: Floyd leech

Eel mer

Background Information - Him and Jade have been separated from their parents since they were young. Floyd gets very attached to female keepers as he sometimes views them as his mother.

Poor boy

You let out a heavy sigh as you gather your things.

Next stop, Pomefiore

-

Taglist!!! -

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@anunholyabomination

@owodi

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[shogunish]

Alr, saw you say to send in requests and I JUMPED. Childhood friend/lover with Gojo 🙏 …Yum (idm if u do this or not but I’m fine with any character, Satoru just came to mind!!)

bestie, you can always send me your thoughts/requests 🫂

tried my hand at headcanons after nth years and i hope they're somewhat okay

wc. 905

childhood

↠ it's nothing special when your mom drags you along to another meeting with another clan. as the next head of your clan, she sees it as important that you learn the ropes as soon as possible, even when you were no older than eight at the time.

↠ while your mom is busy talking to someone important from the gojo clan, a butterfly catches your attenand off you go!

↠ who wants to listen to adult talk when you can go catch butterflies!

↠ and that's how you meet satoru for the first time. he's walking around the estate and as soon as you see those cerulean eyes, the butterfly you wanted to catch is forgotten.

↠ "everyone says you have the six eyes, but you only have two! like me!" you pop into satoru's space with big curious eyes and an innocent look on your face. satoru has sensed you already, and yet..he is caught off-guard by your bubbly self and the lack of understanding that the six eyes are not the number of his eyes, but an innate gift he's blessed with (or so those boring adults say).

↠ "..it's an innate gift, not the number of my eyes."

↠ "and here i was looking forward to seeing someone with six eyes! how boring.." you pout and it makes satoru laugh.

↠ it is the first time someone described the six eyes as boring when everyone praises the gift he's blessed with.

↠ satoru and you end up playing hide and seek throughout the estate and of course satoru wins every damn time. but he's genuinely having fun for the first time in a while.

↠ the other kids tend to avoid him since satoru is gifted, blessed by the heavens as the adults say. but you just went up to him, popped the bubble of isolation and told him that his eyes were boring.

↠ when your mother and satoru's mom both catch you playing throughout the estate like children should, they both smile. not only does the future for both clans seem bright, but satoru's mother is also relieved to see her son enjoying life as he should.

↠ ever since then, you meet up with satoru to play regularly without a care in the world. you still don't know what exactly the six eyes are supposed to be, satoru never tells you, either. but it doesn't matter. because satoru is satoru to you.

↠ however, even satoru reaches an age where he thinks girls are stupid and distances himself from you.

.

.

.

teens

↠ so many sleepovers in which you two end up playing mario kart and watching shows until late at night, falling asleep on each other like two sprawled out starfish secretly in love.

↠ satoru finds it strangely endearing whenever you wear his sunglasses. he doesn't give them away easily. the six eyes tire him out and give him a headache whenever he doesn't wear them for too long, but..but if the sun is too bright and you "can't see shit" – as you'd say – satoru willingly puts his shades on the bridge of your nose.

↠ you're attached by the hip, playing digimon together during lunch breaks, sparring together and sharing sweets with one another. it's so bad that shoko has to ask if the two of you are a thing.

↠ "no way!" satoru and you say in unison and shoko knows..there's more to it.

↠ she's got a bet with geto when the you will finally get together.

↠ one fated sleepover, you're casually sitting on satoru's bed, a pack of gummy bears in-between you and him. it's a humid summer night, but the stars sparkle as brightly as ever.

↠ lately, you've been thinking a lot. everyone you know has already experienced their first kiss, but since you're stuck in this "jujutsu shit", meeting someone is..hard. the only guy you're close with is satoru and the more time you spend with him, the more you notice his soft lips, the way he'd grind from ear to ear when he saw you, the blue in his eyes that reminded you of the heavens..

↠ it might be stupid, but..you know that satoru won't judge you. he never did and never will.

↠ "do you wanna kiss? just to find out what it feels like." you ask nonchalantly.

↠ "huh?!" satoru must've misheard you, right? there's no way you actually want your first kiss to be with him, right? god, it must be an awful idea and satoru knows it, but when his gaze flicks down to your glossed lips and back to your stupidly lovely face..he is curious, too.

↠ "just one kiss. if you want more, that's too bad for you." he smirks, putting up a tough front and you have half the mind to change your mind. but when satoru brushes your hair behind your ear and his large hand cups your jaw..all thoughts go straight out the window.

↠ satoru kisses you, gently and softly in his bedroom.

↠ in this moment, he knows he's a goner, head over heels in love with you.

↠ it's not until he's 17, pushing 18 when satoru confesses his feelings for you and luckily for him, you return his feelings with a clumsy smooch to his lips (he wouldn't want it any other way).

[maxybabyy]

i’m thinking about your max run club au again 😵‍💫 does daniel realize… the effect… max’s voice has on him? when do daniel and max meet in real life (if ever)?

😫 😫 i am always thinking about max run club ... but im sooo glad you're there with me! 🏃

in my mind they don't meet until after he and scotty break up. Daniel in a moderate sized LA apartment trying to figure out what to do with a bum knee and no race seat, when he goes to one of martijn's shows, and look who is there also :)

below the cut is the third part 😏 (part i, ii)

The first time he sees him, Daniel almost doesn’t notice.

He’s face-down on the sofa with his phone held loosely in his hand. He should probably be in bed, has an appointment with his physio in the morning, lunch with Blake after that. But Scotty’s in Canada for training camp, has been for the past two weeks, and Daniel hasn’t been sleeping well.

He had offered to come with him, with Scott. Made a joke about getting on the slopes too, “My knee’s been better, yeah? Reckon I could probably take you down for a run or two.” His knee still isn’t great but like, he could probably hang out in the hot tub, work on maybe, like a nice tan.

But Scotty had laughed, told him not to waste his time, “You don’t even like the snow, Ric. I’ll see you in a month, yeah?”

Daniel thinks maybe he’s allowed to feel like this, lonely and sad, scrolling through Instagram.

It’s worse then, when he sees the picture of Scotty. He’s shirtless and smiling, how Daniel likes him the best. There’s a sunburn on his nose, red and angry, and Daniel knows it must be painful. Can imagine almost how he must be complaining about it, refusing to put on aloe because he doesn’t like the sticky after-feel.  

It gets him a little hot, his hips pressing against the sofa almost unconsciously. He could probably like, get himself off. Come into his own hand and send him a picture, saying some shit like, thought of u ;).

But also, like. Daniel hasn’t heard from him in a few days, thinks maybe he’s not going to be the one to reach out this time.

He’s deep in his twitter feed, focus only half on the screen when he hears the voice.

He rewinds it and presses the phone to his ear, the volume turned loud as he listens, and there it is. Just a handful of lines in that sharp accent that Daniel recognises immediately with an odd sense of excitement.

He loops it over to hear it again, and Daniel feels it. The sudden burst of energy, conditioned almost by sound alone. He wants to put on his shoes and run, Max’s voice hoarse in his ears coaxing him to be faster, to be better. To make it good, make it last. And Daniel would, for him. For Max.

He grinds his dick into the sofa, reckons it would be half-hard if he reached down to touch it.

Daniel doesn’t do it, obviously. It would be too much, he knows. Getting hot and bothered by the sound of a voice, or like, not even that. Because it’s GP’s voice he can hear now, deep and British, and decidedly not Max’s. But even like this, Daniel feels out of control.

He loops it again before he even thinks about it.

Daniel doesn’t realise until he’s on his third listen that GP is talking about Max, “- and he can be himself with me, which I think is really important when you work together the way that Max and I do.”

There’s a shuffle in the background, and Daniel almost misses it, rewinds the video just a few seconds to watch as a guy pops in from the side to hug GP.

Daniel doesn’t have to think about it, knows already that it’s Max on the screen.

He can only see his backside but he’s already so fucking hot. The wide line of his shoulders, trim waist obvious from the cropped running top he’s wearing. His shorts are almost indecent too, sit barely below his ass to show off strong thighs.

Looking at him like this, Daniel cannot fucking breathe.           

Belatedly he noticed the link on the screen, a tag to their socials. It takes him to a YouTube page, Red Bull Running, and Daniel almost doesn’t – feels as the sour taste builds in his mouth.

It’s, like, objectively okay what he’s doing. He’s just a fan, that’s it. And like, Red Bull has probably hundreds of athletes, it’s barely even a connection.

Daniel doesn’t find it until he’s almost given up, hidden away at the bottom of the screen on a playlist called Max V. His cheeks feel flushed, his eyes heavy with maybe not sleep but something else, the illicit feeling making his fingers tingle.

He scrolls through it with his knee pulled to his chest, flicks through videos of Max on the treadmill, going over data with GP, crossing the line at the London marathon. He’s just as pretty as Daniel thought, wide smile and kind eyes as he laughs at his own silly joke.

He’s almost at the bottom, an absent yawn escaping his lips when he finds it. Yoga for Runners.

Foolishly, he clicks it, watches with a dry mouth as Max introduces himself. He sits squarely on the mat in a sunlit room. He isn’t wearing a shirt, back so straight it makes his pectorals look obscene. There’s a low-fi beat in the background, not too loud to drown out Max’s soft instructions guiding the viewer through a series of poses.

Daniel’s thumb hovers over the home button, ready to close out, to go to bed. And then Max bends over, ass to the camera in his tiny running shorts. It goes on forever. Max speaking softly, demonstrating with his hands the muscles he stretches, how to increase the pressure, where the strain should not be.

Max counts himself down, “You got, it. Four. Breathe deep for me, please,” lowers his knees and folds his chest almost to the floor, keeps his hips up high. “Here, you will feel the release of your rib cage. Obviously, like this it will give you a great stretch in the back also. Yes, just like this. You are of course doing so good.”  

Daniel bites into the meat of his palm, pants into his own sweaty hand. He balances his phone against a pillow and slides his hand down to his dick.

He digs out the bottle of lube that hasn’t been used in months, pours it into his hand, onto his dick. Pretends the slick sound of his hand is something else. It’s easy to do like this, Max’s voice steady in his ear, body moving with impressive control on screen.

“Sink in a little deeper for me, we are so close,” Max says, voice soft, hoarse. “Breathe into the sensation. It should of course feel good when we do this.”

Daniel should feel embarrassed, maybe, but he comes just as Max is winding down, spread out on his back, breathing heavy. “Max,” he sobs, breathless.

The video ends, replaced by a moment of silence. And then in an all too familiar voice, “Hello, everyone,” that makes Daniel’s stomach drop.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Beneath Miles of Stone - Part two - John Wick x Plus Size Fem Reader

Summary: John has been in prison for nine months. He’s content to stay if it means appeasing the high table and keeping peace between the owners of each continental. However, he meets someone who erases that willingness. Peace be dammed.

Trigger Warnings: violence against women ; fat-shaming

Part one here

She’s sore and exhausted by the time her shift ends, and all she really wants to do is snuggle up on the couch and re-watch The Exorcist III to do fair comparisons between here and the actual movie, but when she walks into the break room, Benny is sitting at the table with an empty, stained Pyrex container and smashed can of Pepsi.

“Hey,” he says, looking at her expectantly with what she interprets as perhaps a smile.

She nods at him, hoping they might have gotten off on the wrong foot. Hell, maybe they can be friends. “Hey, just heading out.”

“So soon? Wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

She grabs her bag from her locker, almost fumbles and drops it, and clutches her house keys between her knuckles (as if the thin blunt metal could even penetrate this guy’s beefy skin). Turning around to face him, her heart lurches to her stomach when she sees he’s standing up, blocking the doorway with a massive frame. No, it was definitely going to be the wrong foot after all.

“I really have to get going,” she tells him. Her voice is scared and quiet.

“Settle down, honey,” he says, “just wanted to ask you if you’d like to go camping next weekend? Me and some guys from work and you. How does that sound?”

It sounds fucking awful. It sounds like she needs to get out of here. Now. “I can’t, I have plans, maybe next time-“

“Don’t gimme that bullshit.” He takes a few steps toward her and she contemplates bolting for the door. “I know you don’t have plans. Who do you have them with? Your fridge?”

Her body recoils like he punched her in the gut.

He chuckles, and she can smell the onions he must’ve eaten for lunch. “Didn’t mean it like that.”

But he did. He absolutely did. And it shouldn’t make her feel like it does. This man is not nice, and his words should theoretically hold little value.

Her back hits the wall before she notices he is crowding in on her personal space, rabbit heart lurching when he gets close enough that his stomach almost touches her chest. Fear slashes through her like a cold blade.

“C’mon,” he urges, “live a little. We’re gonna have lots of booze, some weed if you like, you can get some attention.” His grin turns disgusting, just like his breath. The sudden, acidic urge to vomit clenches her stomach.

“I cant, sorry.” She tries to step around him but he clutches her shoulder and presses her back against the wall. Clumsily, she attempts to reach out and grab his arm but he catches her wrist and pins her other hand by her head.

Her body reacts instinctually and wildly to the entrapment. She flails out with her right leg to kick something—hopefully a vital body part.

Her thrashing doesn’t go over well with Benny. He lets go of her shoulder, grabs her by the side of her head, palm full of her hair, and slams her face against the grimy wall hard enough to make her vision turn static for a few moments.

Pain diffuses from behind her temple into the rest of her face. A pathetic noise of distress hisses from her mouth and nose.

“You don’t need to be so fucking rude,” Benny spits. “I’m offering you a good time and you’re being bitchy about it and trying to hurt me?”

She yelps like a dog when he grinds her face harder against the wall.

“Now, you gonna come camping?”

“Yes, yes.”

Thankfully, as soon as she frantically agrees, he drops her and backs off. “Great. I’ll hold you to it.” There’s a sinister promise in his tone, and she curses herself for not just agreeing right off the bat and saving herself some of the foretold agony.

She watches him pack up his food while standing still and shocked against the cold wall. It’s when he walks out that the tears begin to soak her cheeks, because she’s not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry again. She slides to the floor, sobs and pants and chokes on thick emotion that she can’t control.

She can’t form a thought right now, can’t move. Has a full blown panic attack on the dirty stone, but she can’t stop it…All she can do is curl up into a ball and hyperventilate and sob like a baby.

At home, before her shower, she looks in the mirror and cringes at the dark bruises spreading from her hairline to her cheekbone. They are swollen and tender, making her wince when she scrubs her face, desperate to rid herself of the lingering feel of Benny’s touch.

She needs this job. It was hard enough finding another one that would take her after so many had failed before it. But, also, she doesn’t want the backlash of reporting Benny. He’s worked there a lot longer than her and she feels like management will be favorable to him because of it.

It will be worse if she calls the cops. They will take her report and then confront Benny, which would place an even bigger target on her back until the investigation clears. And she can’t just quit. Rent is due this week and her bank account has been barren for a while now.

She doesn’t know what to do, so she cries some more. In the shower, in the kitchen making ramen, on the couch where she falls to sleep, vowing while nodding off, in some desperate attempt to feel less helpless, to look for functioning security cameras in the break room, because she knows that actual evidence is hard to dispute.

If she’s being honest with herself, she’s terrified to see Benny again that night when she goes into work. She’s had a lot of curses in her life, but one blessing is the learned knowledge that men prone to violence will always utilize it again. Still, to be cornered by him and hurt is enough of a thought to chase her brain out of rationality. He already knows he can get away with whatever he wants and it’s too late to make a report now…If she was ever even planning to. A good 15 hours has passed since the incident and no cop or supervisor will take her seriously with the time gap, at least not without camera footage. Going into the break room and looking for cameras, however, means the possibility of running into Benny alone again.

She looks, for a long time, at her face in the rusted, cracked locker room mirror, at the ugly discoloration on her skin. She smooths her hands over her fleshy body, the paunch of her stomach, the jiggle of her arms and thighs, and wishes, for surprisingly not the first time, she were bigger*. No, maybe not bigger. Taller. Stronger. You’re already big enough,* her brain reminds. And that’s when she has to step away, because the negative thoughts will just avalanche and she can’t cry at work again.

She stays out in the open for the majority of her shift, exists where other people are and keeps her head down to avoid eye contact. She eats her employee provided turkey sandwich at the nurses desk. It works for the most part; she doesn’t see the burly guard and no one talks to her about the giant bruise on her face. She does, however, see some of his companions from last night, and she vaguely wonders which ones he’s…she’s…going camping with. The feeling of disgust, not at them but at herself for agreeing to the outing, bites at her heels.

And then John—his inquiry catches her off guard. She wonders if he’s genuinely concerned or if there is some motive behind his questioning because she’s not used to having someone be worried about her or even really asking her about herself. It’s the price of living in a big city with no family or friends around. Everyone is very good at ignoring everyone else, unless they have sinister intent. It makes her want to start bawling all over again.

But.

It also…feels strangely nice, this illusion that someone might care about her well-being, even if he’s a prisoner and her patient and she can’t think about him being anything other than that for professionalisms sake.

She really does need this job, but she’s not sure how to handle any of this. Unwanted attention from the prisoners is one thing here and there. Most of these men are lonely and haven’t seen any women in years besides the sparse ones that work with them, so she knew taking the job that they would possibly cat-call and say stupid shit just to get a rise out of her.

Between quietly burning with shame and staring intently at walls and floors instead of eyes, she has been pretty efficiently avoiding negative remarks, but feels hopeless thinking about circumventing someone she works with, someone who’s not in cuffs and not under control of the state. How the fuck is that supposed to work?

She guesses Benny is not here, does some counting on her fingers regarding time, figures that John’s guards change out roughly every six hours. Most of them sleep during the time that they are supposed to be watching him.

He can’t be that dangerous.

Healthcare liability and rules are a funny thing; you come to learn that most are for show, and policy-making CEO’s don’t even walk onto the field, but dictate what happens in it.

On top of all that, she doesn’t want to be afraid of John—mainly because she’s becoming afraid of everyone else here and her tolerance for feeling like a helpless woman is reaching its peak. That tolerance was never very high to begin with, though; when you live all your life as a larger girl, you get used to being strong and taking lead and defending your smaller friends and being tough. If you’re in a situation where you don’t feel that way, it’s quite uncomfortable.

So she’s not as scared of him tonight while she is changing his dressing, giving him water, and making sure he’s medicated. It’s kind of disgusting how these inmates are treated by the doctors and even some of her coworkers. She understands completely having problem patients that are rude and awful, but none of hers have been like that, especially not John. However, they all seem to severely lack hydration and pain control when she takes them on her assignment board.

“You can ask for pain pills every four hours,” she tells John while her hands work on his wound. It looks better already, edges beginning to turn plump pink and shiny. He bleeds a lot, soaks gauze pads and then the top of his pants, but he heals fast.

“Thank you, I didn’t realize.” There is barely any pain in his tone while she works on him, because her touch is soft—feather light when she’s not shaking with fear.

When she laughs, it makes him curious about what’s funny.

“You can also ask for water every now and again,” she reminds, once again baffling him with her concern. She almost sounds like she’s chiding him.

His mouth twitches into a tiny half-grin. “Thank you, nurse.”

It kind of sounds like he’s mocking her, so she stops the motion of her hands and looks up at him, matching his little smile with one of her own. “You’re welcome, patient.”

“Sorry,” he says, “I don’t know your name?”

She backtracks, not wanting him to think she’s upset about something so petty as him not knowing her name. How could he? She’s not allowed to wear her badge in the rooms because of liability, and the prisoners rarely know the names of their nurses. “No, that’s totally fine,” she rectifies, shaking her head. “You wouldn’t know my name.”

He is still grinning at her, like he’s won something. “What is it?”

“What?” She asks him.

“Your name?”

It just slips from her mouth, that sensitive piece of information. She is surprised at how comfortable she feels telling him.

He hums in approval, but still itches to ask about her bruise again. It’s lightening slowly, fading back into her hairline. He knows he will get angry, though, when she lies to him or brushes him off about it, and he has no desire to lay chained to a bed seething with nowhere to go and nothing to hit. He’s learned quickly that boredom, despite being terrible, is better than rage, especially when the rage has to stay inside, eating and burrowing deeper.

She feels awkward in this silence, like something is not being said, and she tries to let it go, but eventually has to say something to fill the tension. “This is healing up already.”

“Thanks are to you for that.” He loves to watch her blanch under the deserved flattery.

“Are you feeling any better?” She asks, changing the subject.

“Much,” he says honestly. “Again, my thanks for that.”

He’s not very good at this light conversation; he’d rather, if they are talking, delve into questions about her life. However, that would undoubtedly inspire her deer heart to sprint away and never come back, so he tries for minimal talk because it’s the only thing he can do while chained to this bed. He’s not used to speaking this much. It’s been months since he’s held an actual discussion and he’s never been a good conversationalist, but if it’s the only tool he can utilize to interact with her then that’s what he’ll use.

“Do you ever ask them to let you change positions?” She asks. “Getting bed sores sucks.”

There she is with the recommendations and concerns again. He tilts his head at her, and certainly does not look adorable while doing so.

“Yeah, you know, bed sores, they develop on your back or butt and burrow until they hit bone?”

“What?” He asks.

She laughs, and John loves the sound. “A hole in your ass..?”

He huffs playfully. “I know what they are. Why does it matter?” It’s a sincere question, one that he hopes doesn’t make her shrink back.

She looks from his bloody stomach to his eyes, blinks. “You are my patient,” she tells him, “I am taking care of you.”

How did this wicked world, instead of eating her alive as it should have, spit her out directly into his path? Maybe it knew that he would have more taste for her?

His face softens into a playful smile. “I can turn on my own.” To prove this, he pivots on one hip to face her with his body. She jumps back a little, but laughs at him.

He motions to her cheek, the bruise that muddles her pretty skin, skin that he knows will be softer than silk. “And who takes care of you?”

“I do.” There is defiance in her innocent eyes, now, the set of her jaw.

He is not smiling at her anymore, not when she means to oppose him. If he listens to her advice, now she will listen to his. “It doesn’t look like you’re doing a very good job.” The tone of his voice matches how low it cuts her, the addition to her name at the end of that sentence driving the knife hilt-deep into her flimsy sense of self defense.

She can’t help it. Defiance crumbles and reveals sadness. She looks back down at his wound with water tickling her eyelashes.

He wants to tell her to look back at him, wants to see her vulnerable and raw and admitting defeat. Admitting that he is right. That she needs someone to look after her. At her word he will gladly break from these shackles and follow his nurse out into the cruel world.

She doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t utter the chant to release him from his bonds. A few tears roll down her face and drop onto his bed as she finishes the dressing. His frustration turns to empathy in milliseconds, because he didn’t mean to make her cry, but is an absolute imbecile for not anticipating it.

“I’m sorry,” he tells her quickly, desperately, then reaches for her hand.

“It’s okay,” she responds, looking down at where they connect, at where her pudgy fingers are dwarfed by his stocky, warm hold. “Do you need anything else?”

He feels his heart rip into two pieces. “No.”

She gives his pinky a little squeeze, proving his theory that she is made of satin and cashmere, then leaves him alone to clean this sickly sweet gore in his chest all by himself.

[merlinandarthuryup]

write Matthew Patel x trandsmascxg reakfder who is allerfigc to peanuts NOW STUPID

Sigh..... okay....................

I don't know how it happened this way... How did everything go so wrong? Oh, that's right, I met Matthew Patel at this stupid cafe...

I was on my lunch break, temporarily freed from my job at Subway. I was exhausted from making stupid footlongs all day, nobody ordered anything else. It was all footlongs. I couldn't stand it. I decided to get a coffee. I headed down to my favorite coffee shop, they were always conscientious about my allergies there, making sure to use all peanut free ingredients in their food and drinks. But, when I walked up to the cafe, they were closed. Shit. I had to get coffee somewhere else. I thought for a while before deciding on a little place on the corner of the street across from my work. Second Cup. I always heard good things about this place, so I decided it was worth giving it a try.

I stepped in the door, an overwhelming scent of coffee filled my nose. It was a lot to take in. The sound of the coffee makers, the music (Not Allowed by TV girl), the people chattering, the strong smell of freshly brewed coffee, the door chiming as I entered... it was so... overwhelming! I was turning to leave to find a more calm place right as someone caught my eye. He was arguing with the barista, something about wanting his coffee beans partially grinded so he could feel them as he drank his coffee. She was telling him that they "don't do that here" and to "F**K OFF" She was kind of rude to him. I thought that maybe I should check up on the guy, he seemed pretty bummed out about the whole ordeal.

"Hey... guy" I nervously started, "she was pretty rude, want me to order something for you?"

He looked at me for a second, grumbled a bit, and collected himself.

"Hello! I am Matthew Patel!" He said just a bit too loud, unaware of the volume of his voice, "You are..?" He looked curiously at me, didn't seem like people showed him kindness that often...

"I'm Y/N" I tugged at my shirt nervously, "it's nice to meet you!"

Matthew looked around a bit anxiously before asking,

"Could you uhm order me a caramel frappuccino?"

"Yeah totally!" I replied, glad he took me up on my offer.

I stepped up to the counter, scanned the menu, and ordered,

"Hey could I get a vanilla mocha cold brew, and a caramel frappuccino?"

"Yeah whatever, what's the name of the order?" The annoyed barista asked.

"Y/N" You responded patiently.

She wrote your name on the cups and hurriedly made your drinks. As she was making them you decided to strike up conversation with this Patel fellow.

"So... Why were you trying to order coffee with the coffee beans like... not totally grinded?"

"Well," He thought for a minute and smiled, "when I was a kid my mom would grind her own coffee beans, it would leave a lot of extra unfiltered coffee beans floating around her coffee. I guess it reminds me of her."

Astonished at his motivations you stare, unable to form the words you want to say. He looks at you, getting more annoyed by each second you hesitate to answer him.

"What?" He asked annoyed

"Oh uh nothing, sorry! I just think it's really sweet." I smiled at him.

He looked away nervously, it didn't seem like he got complimented often. He was about to say something before the barista called out my name for the coffees. I walked over, grabbed our drinks, and handed Matthew his. Regardless of my anxiety, I asked him

"Would you like to have our coffees, like, together?"

He seemed nervous too, but put up a confident front, proudly stating, "That'd be great!"

We walked out of the coffee shop. As we walked we talked about our pasts, our motivations, dreams and goals, aspirations in life... it was like something out of a movie. Eventually it started to get dark, so we exchanged numbers and went our separate ways.

Soon after we texted all the time. It started out simple with occasionally asking each other about how our day was going, what we were up to, e.t.c., but it soon became about anything and everything we could think of. We would talk about the little thing , you know, like our day to day activities. While he seemed over confident and a bit egotistical, I soon got to see the real him. As I learned more about his personality I found that he really wasn't that confident in himself, but he was very caring and it showed.

We soon started to frequently meet up in person.

We would start by meeting at the park. Our first time hanging out at the park we just walked and talked for as long as we could, and by the time we ran out of daylight we were planning our next hang out. We would also get coffee together and go out to eat somewhere. One day when we were at the park Matthew turned to me, and looked like he had something he wanted to admit to me.

"Hey so," He wouldn't look into my eyes, "I have something I need to tell you about..."

Hesitantly I responded, "What is it?"

I mean what could he possibly tell me? God, so many friendships have ended because people hid away the worst parts of themselves from me. Or maybe they changed over time. Maybe there was something I was missing from the start. My mind was racing and my heart was pounding.

"I..." He paused, unsure if he should say what he desperately needed to, "I have... Demon Hipster Chicks who are like, close friends of mine who are at my beck and call..."

What. I simply froze in confusion. I felt like I couldn't reply. I just stood... and stared... and wondered... I tilted my head visibly confused.

"Yeah, uhh let me show you..." Suddenly he started to sing?!?!????

"These are my Demon Hipster Chicks" Four girls appeared out of nowhere?!?!?!??!?!!!!????????

"I shouldn't have kept them secret for so long!" He kept...singing....

"You're my close friend and keeping them secret was wroooonnngggg"

He was about to sing another verse but I simply put my hand up to stop him. I burst out laughing while he stood confused.

"Why are you laughing?" He stood confused and kind of embarrassed, his girls looked at each other not knowing what was going on.

"It's nothing it's just-" I kept laughing, failing to pull myself together, "I just thought you were keeping some horrible secret from me, trust me this is, like, nothing. And kind of awesome actually."

He looked relieved, "Did the song help?"

I laughed a bit, "Oh yeah for sure."

We continued to walk around the park talking for a bit. He introduced me to all of the girls and showed me some more of his powers. God he's so cool. I figured there was no time like the present to tell him.

"Hey Matthew, while we're telling each other secrets, there's something I need to tell you..."

He seemed a bit surprised and anxious, "W-what is it?"

I gathered all the courage I could and told him how I truly felt about him, "I... I really like you, do you... want to go out with me?"

He got very flustered, his demon chicks *poofed* away, he seemed to be struggling to find the right words, but he managed to get out a "Y-yes, you're really cool and that'd be cool and... yeah..." He looked away flustered and a bit embarrassed. He held his hand out, offering it to me. I gladly accepted and we walked around the park, unable to think of much to say, both of us were clearly very nervous. Then I remembered something else I wanted to tell him,

"Oh yeah also I'm trans, like a trans man."

He seemed relatively unphased, "Huh okay," he shrugged, "Me too."

I was shocked, then smiled, glad to know he was understanding and completely okay with me being who I am. And he was trans too!!???!!?!? So awesome.

As time went on we began spending more time at his apartment. It was always kept clean and pretty organized since he had the girls around to help him. Most of the house looked pretty normal, fully furnished. But his room is where his personality really shined through. He had some band posters on his wall, MCR, Pierce the Veil, and a couple other bands. They were always his favorites. He also kept his favorite games on a shelf. Those being Double Dragon: Neon, Street Fighter, Silent Hill, and a lot of other ones. He just pointed those out to me specifically because they were his favorites. We spent over a year together before the incident. Throughout that year we had so many good times together.

One time he called me mid cry because I couldn't afford my testosterone. I had been taking it for a couple months at this point and needed my next dose. About a half hour after the call he was at my door with the Demon Hipster Chicks. They brought me flowers, my favorite candy, and another bottle of T!! I nearly tackled him as I leapt to give him a hug.

Amazed, I asked him "How did you get this?"

"Oh you know, I have my ways, I know a guy who knows a guy and so on." He shrugged and hugged me tightly. Then he gently lifted my head, looked deeply into my eyes, and we kissed.

That reminds me of our first kiss... We were at his place watching one of his favorite movies, Donnie Darko. I was on the couch fully focused on the movie while Matthew cooked a meal for us. He had seen the movie countless times, so he didn't mind multitasking. He was making us some lasagna. He was following some recipe he found online, I told him again and again that he didn't have to make anything for us since he didn't have experience cooking, but he was adamant. About halfway through the movie it was done! He brought over our servings on a plate, and he sat next to me. I was a bit hesitant to take a bite, and he noticed,

"It's okay" He said, "I made sure nothing I cooked with had peanuts or peanut oil, or anything even adjacent to them."

Somehow he knew exactly what I was anxious about. He looked at me reassuringly and gestured for me to take a bite. I slowly raised the fork to my mouth. salivating over the delicious scent. I bit down and... It was the best lasagna I'd ever had!!!!!! I quickly scarfed down my whole plate, and he did the same. After we were done he took our plates to the kitchen, and sat down to watch the rest of the movie with me. I moved closer to him, leaning against his arm. He happily glanced over at me, and put his arm over my shoulder. He suddenly said,

"Hey you've got something on your face"

I sat up a bit to face him, "Where?"

"It's just a bit of sauce right here..." He leaned in close to my face, I slowly turned red as he cleaned the bit of sauce from my cheek.

"T-thanks" I stuttered, very flustered

"Mhm" He replied, both of us looking deeply into the others eyes. After a moment he placed his hand on my cheek and and he asked,

"Can I kiss you?"

I nodded and we both slowly leaned in, and passionately kissed. We missed the ending of the movie.

Things were nice for a while. They were more than nice they were... perfect... But, as they say, all good things must come to an end...

It was a chilly March morning. I woke up in Matthew's bed, something I had become accustomed to over our year of dating. I was practically moved in at this point. As I opened my eyes I noticed he wasn't laying next to me, rather hunched over his desk reading a letter. I slowly got up and walked over to see what it was about.

"What's that?" I asked through a yawn. He quickly hid the paper and shrugged it off,

"It's nothing, just the phone bill. Speaking of I need to make a call..." He seemed lost in thought. I tried to talk to him again but he hastily walked into the living room, pacing and thinking. I decided to give him some time while I got ready for the day. After about an hour I went back out into the living room to see him still vigorously pacing.

"Hey, are you doing okay my love?" I asked him, as I gently held his shoulder. He didn't respond. He seemed stressed. He kept thinking for a minute before he suddenly looked me in the eyes and said

"You know I love you right?" He looked really distraught.

"Yeah of course, and I love you too Matthew" I said, worried about him, "what's going on? Is everything okay?"

"There's... look I just have something I need to do for an old friend. It... it might change everything..." He then broke away from my hand and kept pacing.

"What does that mean? Are you okay, a-are you safe?" I was growing increasingly concerned for him. He just kept pacing.

"Matthew please talk to me!" He wouldn't say anything. He just kept thinking and pacing. I had to go to work, but I didn't want to leave him alone like this. I used the magic Matthew taught me to summon the Demon Chicks while I went to work.

When I came back home from my shift at Subway he seemed to be doing better. He was hanging out with the girls watching Psych.

"Hey babe how are you doing?" I asked cautiously.

He got up and gave me a kiss, "I'm doing much better, it's all been cleared up now." he smiled and sat back down on the couch.

"Oh yeah? What uh, what was going on earlier?"

"Hm? Oh that was nothing, just an old friend trying to dig up the past is all. It's all sorted now though."

"Ah, alright, well if you ever want to talk about it I'm always here to listen, okay?"

"Okay" he gestured for me to sit next to him, one of the girls moving to the floor to make room for me. I sat down, and we watched our show for a while before it was time for dinner.

"I better start on dinner before it's too late." I started to get up but he stopped me, saying

"No no, it's alright, I'll make dinner tonight. I know you had a long shift today and you had to learn how to make a bunch of new recipes at work so I'll handle it." He stood and walked to the kitchen.

"Thank you, I really appreciate that."

"Of course! It's no problem at all."

I continued to watch the show with the girls as he cooked. Tonight he was making spaghetti. Nothing was out of the ordinary. It was all going fine until I felt a little *prick* in my arm. I quickly turned and saw Matthew had stuck a needle in my arm that was connected to a vile of...oil???? I quickly jumped up taking the needle out of my arm and shouted

"What are you doing!? Are you insane?!?!" I was panicking. I hated needles, and what was in that vile??? What was he trying to do? I thought he loved me?

"I'm doing what I have to do!" He shouted, clearly very distraught, "I...I got a letter about one of my exes, and I have to leave. I was going to leave silently, but Gideon said that I couldn't leave any trace of my past and... well, you're about to be a part of it. So... I..."

He looked at the needle that had fallen to the ground. I looked as well, putting two and two together

"You tried to kill me! Using... using...." my stomach dropped

"Peanut oil..." He looked away, ashamed.

"Fucking wow..." We both stood for a minute. Soon one of his demon hipster chicks grabbed a suitcase from the room and handed it to him. He snapped his fingers and all the girls disappeared.

"W-where are you going?" I asked, tears filling my eyes.

"Toronto. It's where she is. It's were Gideon will be. I... I'm sorry it has to be this way!" He disappeared as well. I just stood, sobbing. I sat on the couch trying to make sense of it all. How things could just fall apart so quickly. So many thoughts rushing through my mind as I comprehend what just happened. Who was he even talking about? What ex? Who's Gideon? Why did he never tell me about his past? Why wouldn't he? What was he hiding? Why would he have to... have to.... I broke down crying again.

To this day I still don't know what happened to him. Last I heard he got his ass kicked by some random guy whose name I don't remember. All I know is he was my first and last true love, and I will never experience anyone like him again.

Goodbye, Matthew Patel, may our paths never cross again.

[bit-odd-innit]

AO3 Down Post Uhhhhhhhhhh Brand New WIP That Wasn’t An Option On The WIP Poll Yet Inexplicably Is The Most Complete. First time writing Robin/Vickie!:

[Context is Steve cracked open a single egg with two yolks, Eddie told him that’s good luck and he needed to blow off work to spread his good fortune with the world because today is now EGG DAY. Steve is unconvinced but goes along with it anyway.]

They’re still arguing when they swing by the diner to meet Robin. “Back me up,” he says to her as he snags one of her fries. “The universe doesn’t guarantee you a good day just because one morning you decided to make an omelette.”

“You misrepresent me,” Eddie counters. “Egg Day is merely a positive portent. A good omen. A sign that emphatically declares there’s a pretty good chance today won’t suck.” “I don’t know, I think I’m with Eddie on this one.” Steve huffs indignantly. “I think it’s nice to believe there’s magic in the world.” She purses her lips. “Magic that’s not actively trying to kill us, that is.” 

They’d missed the lunch rush; the dining room is sparse. Its quiet enough that any clattering of noise, no matter how small, draws attention. The bell above the entrance sounds with a glittery tingtingting. And there, at the counter, resplendent in a bright yellow sundress, is—

“Oh my God.” Robin is already beneath the table. “She can’t see me like this, I look like I belong in a garbage can.”

“That wasn’t on purpose?” Eddie asks. 

“Steve, she hisses. "Do something.”

Steve raises one arm in the air and calls, “Vickie! Hey!”

“They’ll never find your body. I’m going to grind your bones to dust and use it to make mulch for my tomato garden hiiiiiiiii Vickie!” “Hi, guys!” She balances her takeout bag on her hip, gaze lingering on Robin. “Hi Robin.” ”Hi!” ”Hi.” Eddie opens his menu to shield the side of his face and mouths to Steve Jesus H Christ. Vickie, undeterred or oblivious, says, “Strange to see you outside of your post at Ye Olde Family Video.”

“I have off on Wednesdays.”

“Me too! I mean, I don’t have a job, so every day is kind of a day off.” Her smile dims. “It’s not like I’m doing nothing. I’ve been setting up some college visits, and band, you know band? You remember band?” “Yeah?” “So you remember what a total drill sergeant Stenman is.” She scrunches her nose, head twitching like a woodland creature trying to shake a dewdrop out of its fur. “Of course you do, you graduated like a month ago. I’m, uh, I’m also taking AP Calc with Bramowitz next year which is going to be absolute bear, but at present yeah I’m just fetching my lunch and bringing it back to my house to eat it which definitely seems like a whole lot of nothing now that I spell it out—“

“So you’re free.” Robin interjects. 

“What?”

“What? Robin seems equally surprised the suggestion came from her. She sits up a little straighter and says, “Right now. You’re free.”

“I-yeah. Yeah I’m free.”

“Do you…want to do something together?”

Vickie glows, but quickly tempers it.

“Oh, are you sure? I don’t want to break up your gang hang.”

“I’ve never seen these bozos in my life.”

Steve stares unblinking into the middle distance. Eddie waves. “Okay!” Vickie says brightly. “Well, despite the fact I have never finished one by myself in my life, my hubris has lead me to once again order the Bubba Burger.” She twists her body to showcase the take-out bag, grease darkening the paper. Her expression softens. “We could...split it? If you’re hungry?” “Starving,” Robin says as she shoves her untouched tuna melt into Steve’s awaiting, open hands.  Vickie beams, bouncing a little on her heels. “Great! There’s this park not too far from here, there’s like, a rose garden and a duck pond or whatever. But we don’t have to go there! We can eat anywhere! We can eat in the parking lot!—” “That sounds perfect,” Robin breathes. Vickie blinks. “The parking lot?” “No, the uh, the other thing.” “Right. Right.” She steps aside, gives Robin space to slide out of the booth, and turns toward the door. “Shall we?” Robin watches her for a beat, a gentle smile pulling at her lips. She opens her mouth to reply, and what comes out is, “I gotta use the wiz palace.” Steve smacks his palm to his forehead. “Cool. Cool cool cool. I’m parked out front, meet me at my car?” Robin, struck dumb by the incredibly stupid thing she just said, nods. “Cool.” She sets off, but not before glancing over her shoulder and adding, “I’m really glad I ran into you guys.” Robin stares after her and once the door closes, her head snaps to Steve.  “I blacked out. What did I just agree to?”

[bunbeeplays]

The Lemon Legacy: Generation 1, Chapter 98 - Baby Daze Part 3

Xander wants to go for a jog and get some fresh air, and he figures Gemma could use some too. That, and it means Ophelia can work on grinding out lyrics, which takes way too damn long. And sometimes your progress just disappears? Maybe the Watcher will download a mod to fix that.

Maybe Xander's recent health kick has been inspired by the kiddo strapped to his back. He knows his parents were older when they had him, but he wants to make sure he's around for a long time for his little girl. Gemma's happy to tag along, though she eventually konks out.

Ophelia's had more coffee in the past week than she's had in her entire life combined. She's exhausted, but she keeps pushing, just like she always does. She wants to provide the best possible future for her daughter, and royalties from her own original music will help a lot.

When Xander comes back and takes Gemma out of her carrier and sits her on the ground, she's not exactly subtle in her dissatisfaction. Do I sense a high-maintenance trait in her future?

Have you guys heard of the Mariko Aoki phenomenon? I swear, Xander has the same effect on babies that Barnes and Noble does on people. I feel like he always gets the dirty diapers!

Xander: Don't give me that innocent look. That smell's not coming from me so it has to be you.

After changing her diaper, Xander leaves her alone to play for a moment to take care of his own bladder need and misses her next milestone. Gemma can babble now!

Splish splash, Gemma's first bath!

Gemma says rise and grind 💪 No days off! She's flexible enough to stick her toe in her mouth.

Xander's on wakeup duty today.

Xander: Good morning, princess. Mommy's out in the backyard. Why don't we go keep her company?

Xander: Lemon Cake, you've barely taken a break the past few days. Why don't I take care of the gardening today?

Ophelia: Thanks, babe. Sorry, I'm meeting up with Drew later to go over the new song and I want it to be perfect.

Xander: I get it. Just don't burn yourself out.

As much as Ophelia loves her career as a musician, she adores being a mom. Watching Gemma learn something new every day with a smile on her face is so heartwarming. She loves spending time with her girl. No song she ever writes is going to be as wonderful as she is.

During lunch, Xander gives peek-a-boo another try.

Xander: gasp Where's Daddy?

Ophelia: Stop, she always cries when we try peek-a-boo!

Xander ignores her and reveals himself with a 'boo!' to Gemma, who surprisingly likes it this time. She almost falls over from giggling!

Ophelia: Okay, I stand corrected.

Xander: I knew I could make her laugh!

Ophelia: Watcher, are you still upset you missed the first laugh?

Xander: No, I just want Gemma to know who the funny one in this relationship is.

Ophelia: Daddy's silly, isn't he, Gem?

Gemma: :)

Xander: Y'know, now that she can sit up, we can finally put her in the high chair and try giving her some actual food.

Ophelia: Ooooh, let me feed her something before I leave.

Xander: …I don't like that look on your face. What are you up to?

Ophelia: Nothing… 😇

Look at Gemma, so trusting of her momma.

Ophelia: My gran fed this to me when I was your age. I can't resist…

Ophelia spoons up some of the smashed lemon and feeds it to Gemma.

Ophelia: What do you think, nooboo?

Ophelia tries to feed her more but at this point we've established Gemma doesn't exactly hide her feelings. She pushes the spoon away before it reaches her mouth. That stuff was yucky!

Ophelia: Yeah, I don't know what I was expecting. Sorry, Gem. Okay, Mommy has to go meet Pibs. I'm sorry I played a mean joke on you, sweetie. Are you mad at Mommy?

Gemma: Buh.

Ophelia: Guess I can't blame you.

Xander: That wasn't very nice of Mommy, now was it? Don't worry, I've got something I know you'll like.

Xander spoons up some ice cream and waves the spoon around, making airplane noises as he does so.

Xander: Open wide! Here comes the airplane!

Gemma complies.

Xander: Was that yummy?

Gemma: :D

Xander: You deserved a treat for being a good sport for Mommy's little lemon prank. That's enough food for now. Want to be Daddy's gym buddy?

Xander's workout session is a little… painful, but they say pain is gain! I don't think falling on your face is the kind of pain they were talking about, dude. Gemma works on some solo Tummy Time and practicing her right hook.

Ophelia comes home just in time for Gemma's bedtime routine. She takes over so Xander can take a shower.

Xander: Good night, muffin. Daddy loves you.

Ophelia didn't think she could love Xander more but seeing him become a dad proved her wrong.

Ophelia sits down and rocks Gemma, telling her all about her time working with Pibs Drew on the song. She's taking Marcie's words to heart and cherishing her time with her baby while she's little.

Judging by those faint green fumes, she's not going to cherish this diaper change.

Ophelia comes into the bedroom as Xander is exiting the en suite.

Ophelia: Whoa. Hello, Daddy.

Xander: You don't have to call me that when Gemma's not around… unless you want to.

Ophelia: Yeah, I'll pass. Since when do you have abs?

Xander: Since like 3 hours ago.

Ophelia: You said in your vows you wanted to be my trophy husband, but you didn't have to lose weight. I liked your little tummy.

Xander: I appreciate it, babe, but I wasn't really trying to lose weight. I just want to make sure I live a long time for you and Gemma.

Ophelia: I want you to stick around for a while too, but just know I think you're handsome no matter what, okay? You're a total DILF.

Xander: Don't you mean DILW?

Ophelia: That doesn't sound as good.

They've been so busy, they haven't be intimate in a while…

It's been a while, but they get right back into the swing of things!

[doiefy]

fuck it, why not, nct 127 as engineering students

it's midterm season and i needed smth fun to do lmao. partially inspired by dumb shit i’ve seen/done

taeil: social butterfly exchange student studying something super obscure like petroleum or mineral engineering. on his first day of school (after getting run over by a roomba), he made up some stupid lie about his home country in an effort to appear more interesting. shit escalated, the lies continued, and now four years later he’s sir moony dal tae-1-methyl-cyclohexane-il from the glorious country of kwangya on planet mars. he’s actually from korea.

johnny: biomedical engineering student who will literally never shut the fuck up about going to med school. drinks redbull for breakfast, lunch and dinner. brushes his teeth with redbull. puts redbull in his diffuser. smokes redbull. did i mention he’s drinking redbull right now so he can stay up studying for the mcat? and that he’s trying to get into med school? in all seriousness he’d be a great doctor. but he’d also prescribe redbull.

taeyong: overworked mom friend studying electrical engineering. in a perpetual state of panic, sleep deprivation and electrocution; but he always has essentials on hand for his kids. be it bandaids, tampons or condoms, all you have to do is ask. oh also he modifies roombas to chase people down hallways while singing the thomas the tank engine theme song. he’s like michael reeves but giggly and with good intentions.

yuta: part time chemical engineering student, full time drug dealer. accepted his offer to the program because he watched one episode of breaking bad while stoned out of his mind, so it's all over for you when he figures out how to cook meth in the lab. the only issue right now? yeah he failed the lab safety training like six times and thought hydrofluoric acid was edible. he's not allowed into any undergraduate lab, much less onto campus at all. yeah he got expelled.

doyoung: obnoxious industrial engineering student. won't shut up about optimization and how his very optimized schedule has allowed him to maintain a 4.20 gpa, do 50+ extracurriculars and get multiple bitches. eventually his extensive spreadsheets creep out every girl he gets with and he has a crisis over his sexuality. gets suspended for public indecency with jaehyun two days before graduation.

jaehyun: goes into civil engineering thinking he can convince everyone he's straight by working with straight members and supports in infrastructure. resident hetero fuck boy up until he learns about bending moments in his second week of school, at which point he comes out. often struggles to finish exams because he's too busy thinking about how the pipe or beam he's analyzing looks too much like a penis.

jungwoo: the nicest mechanical engineering student you'll ever meet. is so sweet and innocent that people are constantly mistaking him for a freshman. mentors younger years, has the most cracked linkedin, brings coffee and donuts to class, generally just a good guy. oh, and the guy who looks exactly like him, who gets fucking hammered at every event and once did a line off a portrait of Isaac Newton? pfft nah that's not jungwoo. no way.

mark: aerospace major and music minor, but he spends so much time in the music faculty that no one believes him when he says he's in engineering. makes a "it's not rocket science" joke at least once in every conversation. probably giggling like a fucking buffoon in the back of a class, so loud that you can hear him in lecture recordings. he also can't go anywhere without recognizing 30 people and fist bumping all of them in turn like "brooooooo."

haechan: stinky computer engineering student who only ever wears the same two hoodies in slightly different shades of grey and considers walking in the rain to be an acceptable substitute for showering. claims he's grinding league and valorant during exam week so people underestimate him. everyone's surprised when they find out he's been on the dean's list since year one AND knows how to do laundry. again his laundry is two hoodies in slightly different shades of grey.

[austinsgirl]

Rather Die | Chapter 9

word count: 2061

warnings: talks of sex, faking sex, language

cross posted on wattpad

master list

————————————————————————

"Um, did you just say Ashton??" Eliana questions Victoria.

"Yes, yes I did." Vic responds.

"You went on a date with MY ex?! How could you?!"

"Eliana, for the last fucking time. We're not friends anymore. You took Austin right from underneath me. If I want to date Ashton, I can. You can deal with it if it really bothers you that much."

"God, you're such a bitch." Eliana scoffs.

"Takes one to know one."

"Hey, can you not treat my girl like that?" Austin asks Vic.

"Why? I'm just treating her the way she's treating me. She shouldn't even be on set."

Austin didn't say anything because he knew she was right.

Everyone headed off to set to take their places, Eliana stayed off to the side to watch.

"You know, why can't you girls just learn to get along for the sake of the movie so we don't have to be so miserable on set?" Austin asks Vic as they take places.

"Look, Austin. I would be perfectly fine with being civil but she's the one that's always starting shit, and I'm not letting her get away with it like I did when we were friends."

"Are you sure you're not the one starting things?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Because she's always telling me that it's you."

"Well, somehow you're rarely ever around when she starts it, so you're not there to actually see it. Oh, and by the way, I'd keep my eye on her. I saw her checking out one of the extras."

"She wouldn't. She loves me too much."

"She loves your dick & good looks. That's about it."

"How could you be so sure?"

"That's how it is with everyone she dates. Trust me. And I feel like I've told you this before."

"Ha, yeah. Okay."

"Don't come crying to me when you catch her cheating, saying "I told you so.""

"I won't, because she won't do that."

"Mhm."

"Alright, everyone places! We're rolling in 30 seconds!" Anna shouts.

Austin & Victoria deliver their scenes and get their takes.

"Great work guys. I'm sure as you both read in the script & in the schedule, tomorrow we're doing the sex scene. I hope you guys can really bring your A game tomorrow for it. Do what you have to do to bring that passion." Anna tells them before they go off for break.

"Wanna meet up and rehearse later?" Austin smirks, really giving a fuck boy look.

"I would never in a million years have sex with you." Victoria says in response as she walks off set.

"We'll see about that."

Victoria rolls her eyes & heads to Mila's trailer.

"Austin really thinks we'll end up fucking." she says to Mila, walking in.

"What? How?"

"Well we have to film that scene tomorrow & he's like 'Wanna rehearse later?' like ew no, I would never. And he's like 'We'll see about that.' being all cocky in shit like ew stop."

"He's so gross."

"Tell me about it." Vic rolls her eyes. "After lunch we have to film the club scene and I'm so not ready to make out with him & dance all sexy."

"I do not blame you. But I'm sure it'll be fun either way."

"Only because I have you to help me through it."

"Awww stop. I love you."

"Love you too. I really don't know what Id do without you."

After lunch, everyone got changed into their club scene outfits & got into the correct hair and makeup, then headed onto set.

"Alright, so we're gonna have the music playing, everyone just dance and groove along. Victoria & Austin, the main focus on you both. I don't care when, but just kiss at some point. Keep it steamy." Anna says before calling action.

The music starts playing, everyone's dancing. Victoria and Austin keep it as steamy as they can, spite their feuding relationship.

Vic has her arms wrapped around his neck, and Austin has his hands on her hip & ass. They rock back & forth to the beat of the music.

"Oh, this is nice- Wait no. Don't fall into his trap Victoria." Vic thought to herself. "He's just being super extra handsy right now to get me to 'rehearse'."

She turns around and Austin pulls her into him. Victoria grinds herself against him. He puts his lips on her neck. She tries to fight enjoying it, but she does, until she gets a flashback to that night where everything went down, which lead her to have a mini panic attack.

"Wait, wait, wait. I need a second. Excuse me." Victoria removes herself from set to go take a breather. Mila follows behind her to make sure she's okay.

"Hey, hey, hey. Are you okay? What happened?" Mila asks her as they go outside.

"I just got a flashback to that night where everything went down, and it just kinda sent me into a panic." Victoria explains to her.

"I'm sorry babe. Do you need anything?"

"Yeah, she needs to suck up whatever this is and get back in there. What the hell, Vic?" Austin says coming outside.

"Are you serious right now, Austin?" Victoria asks him. "I wouldn't have panicked if it wasn't for your whore ass."

"What do you mean?" he asks confused.

"This scene was like that night all over again. We danced just like that before you went & fucked things up."

"Again, I'm sorry that I did that. But this is our job, we can't let the past effect us."

"Well, I'm sorry that it effected me because you're a two timing man whore."

"You're so dramatic."

"Can you fucking not right now? And just fuck off? I'm not gonna be able to compose myself if you're just feeding into it."

"Fine. I'll fuck off."

"Good. Bye."

"Anna wants us back in no more than ten minutes." Austin says before heads back inside.

"God, he's such a dick. I don't know if I can handle another few weeks working with him." Vic says to Mila.

"Hey, you'll be okay. You've gotten this far. I know it's hard, but you got this. Don't let this asshole ruin your big break."

"I know, I know. He's just making it so hard. Especially having Eliana around."

"I know. But if he tries shit again, I will fight & lose my job. I don't care. No one messes with my best friend."

"Thanks, Mila. Again, I don't know what I'd do without you."

The girls went back inside & continued to film.

Austin & Victoria we're facing each other, dancing. They kept looking at each others lips, getting ready to go in for the kiss.

"God, those lips are so lucious. NO stop Vic. Don't think like that."

Austin goes in for the kiss, Victoria follows his lead.

"Wow, this is actually an enjoyable kiss because I can't taste Eliana on them. Fuck, he's such a good kisser. NO shut up brain. We are not doing this."

Anna calls cut & we were done for the day.

Austin clears his throat, "Good work, Williams."

"Yeah, uh, same to you Butler."

"Hey, we should probably practice for tomorrow." he says.

"Why? Can't we just wing it?"

"Well, I mean, we'll rehearse it before we film it with the intimacy coordinator but I mean, we should ourselves so we're more prepared."

"No, I know you & I know you'd actually try to bang and that's NOT happening."

"No, we wouldn't."

"Yes we would. If we're rehearsing, it's here on set witu the coordinator. That's it."

"Cmon, Vic. You don't want to be with me?"

"Id rather die than to ever be with you." Vic says, attempting to storm off.

Austin grabs her wrist and pulls her in, & kisses her.

She gets lost in him for a moment before she realizes what's going on.

"Oh my god, Austin. No." she shoves him off of her. "We're not fucking, we're not kissing, we're not doing shit unless it's for this film. You're with Eliana, right? Use her for your fucking & kissing needs, not me."

"Fine then. Our scene will just suck."

"If it sucks, it sucks. I really don't care."

Victoria walks off set & goes to her trailer to grab her things.

"Vic, you ready to go?" Mila pops her head in.

"Yep, let's go." she says, in a passive tone.

"What's wrong?"

"Austin kissed me. Trying to get me to have sex with him to "rehearse" again." she rolls her eyes.

"Ew."

"I know. I cant with him."

The next day on set...

Austin & Victoria meet up with Casey, the intimacy coordinator in a closed office space that's set up as a bedroom.

"Okay, the scene starts with Allison jumping into Jake's arms, kissing very passionately. Jake carries Allison into the bedroom. I was thinking from there, Jake will throw Allison onto the bed before hovering over her, continuing the makeout. Jake will remove Allison's dress leaving her in her underwear, then his shirt comes off, he pulls down his bottoms, her panties come off, and they go at it kind of rough, but passionate. All that sound good?" Casey asks Austin & Vic as she's done explaining the scene.

They both nod their head in agreement, although they don't want to.

"Perfect. I'll have you guys get into your nudity wear stuff. It makes it all look real, without any genitalia touching. Once you guys are ready, we'll go over it, then we'll go to set and shoot."

"Ready to have your mind blown?" Austin asks Victoria all cocky.

"Please, Austin. It's not like we're going to have actual intercourse."

"If you say so."

"God, he's so annoying." she thought to herself.

The actors went off to get prepped and into costume.

Once they we're ready, they went back into the room to go over it.

Victoria jumps into Austin's arms and starts making out with him. He throws her onto the bed as directed, and hovers over her kissing her.

He removes her dress and tosses it to the side, then removes his shirt & tosses it. He pulls his pants down and removes her panties, then "goes inside of her", mimicking the actions. They both make the faces and sounds of pleasure, does whatever feels right for the scene.

"Cut! That was perfect guys. It's a super short scene, but it was great. Let's head off to set and do the exact same thing."

They all go off to set, and do their thing, of course doing the dialogue that leads up to it.

After Anna calls cut, Austin lays down next to Vic. They're both out of breath like they were actually doing it. And they'd be lying to themselves if they weren't turned on by each other right now, which they're hating on themselves for.

"Good job, Butler." Vic says to Austin.

"You too, Williams."

They get up from the bed and put their robes on.

Victoria heads off to her trailer to get dressed and break for lunch.

On Austin's way back to his trailer, he sees something that Victoria tried warning him about, but just brushed to the side, not wanting to believe it. Now that he sees it, he believes it.

"Eliana??" he says, catching her making out with that extra, as they were trying to hide in a corner of a building but it wasn't working out very well.

"Oh my god, Austin! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen." Eliana goes on.

"Save it. I should have listened to Victoria. She was right about you. And I should have never kissed you that night. I lost the girl who I had thought was the best I ever met, and now I'm losing the other girl who I thought was the best."

"Austin! Please! I love you."

"No you don't. You never really did, and I know that now. You only wanted me for my looks like Victoria said. It's over Eliana. You can get your stuff out of my trailer after break. Id rather not see you again."

"Fine. If you want to be over, then we'll be over. You weren't that good at sex anyways."

"Whatever, Eliana."

Austin walks away, regretting so many decisions he's made in the past few weeks.

Maybe he should have listened to Victoria. Maybe he shouldn't have gotten with Eliana in the first place.

Only time will tell what will happen next.

—————————————————————

[onsunnyside]

ʚ♰ɞ 𝟐. 𝐎𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | friends-with-benefits!Ransom Drysdale x camgirl!reader, dad's best friend!Chris Evans x camgirl!reader, camgirl!Natasha Romanoff x camgirl!reader (mentioned, just for shows and not romantically)

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, AGE GAP, SMUT - minors DNI, best friend!Natasha, dilf!Chris Evans (he's also very wealthy), sexting, FaceTime sex (starts, then is implied), dirty talk, daddy kink, fingering, grinding, camming: mentioned, sub!reader, masturbation.

𝗪/𝗖 | 6K

𝗔/𝗡 | oh my goodness, I took a nap and just woke up, so here's the next chapter of holy grail and thank you for your patience while I slept the evening away. also i needed a blond mcu character to be reader’s dad’s fiancee, it’s Carol. this chapter has been split into two parts because I use a lot of page breaks !! next part comes tmrw at 6pm EST. No gifs/photos belong to me, found bottom ones on Pinterest [1 | 2 | 3] all credits go to the original creators.

˗ˏˋ𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Have you seen my black bikini? I can’t find it.”

“Didn’t you wear it to that yacht party Ransom dragged you to?”

Of fucking course.

You groan and nearly stomp your feet in frustration. As if on cue, your phone starts ringing and that devil’s name flashes on the screen. Ignoring the call, you collapse onto Wanda’s bed with your arms over your eyes.

“I’m going to lie in the middle of a bike lane and wait to get run over by a cyclist.”

Wanda laughs, almost ruining her lipstick as she applies it in the mirror. “Shouldn’t you be packing for your trip?”

You scoff loudly. It wasn’t a trip, more like a forceful gathering to meet your father’s new fiancée. You’ve lost count on how many women you’ve seen hanging off his arm, wearing a shiny diamond ring on their left hand. 

The last one was ten years younger than him and invited you to get lunch with her and her other friends. Against your will, you went because your father played the “You’ll be calling her mom soon” card. You almost laughed in his face right then, as if he forgot about his past stream of ex-fiancée's who came and left faster than a bolt of lightning. 

It was pitiful. Your father has been desperate since your mother left him for another man long ago, but you can’t blame him. You haven’t spoken to her in years, not since you graduated high school. You’ve never forgiven her for cheating with her co-worker—even though now they’re both happily married, living with his children from a previous relationship. 

While you took your heartbreak and pushed yourself into school and work, your dad set off on serial dating but, thankfully, did not have any more kids.

“I’m so glad Nat’s coming along—I would’ve faked being sick if she wasn’t.” You’ve always had a hard time telling your father no, but the relationship between the two of you was far stronger than the one you had with your mother. After the divorce, you chose to live with your father instead of your mother and her new husband. “I swear, when I finally find the guts, I’ll say no.”

“But not any time soon.” Wanda fills in, looking over her shoulder at you. Her eyes are lined with silver glitter, matching the simple jewelry around her neck and wrists. “Do you know why?”

“I love him too much?”

Your roommate shrugs, “Well, yeah but you also love to ogle at his friend.”

Your jaw drops and you grab a piece of clothing lying on her bed to throw at her, missing by a few feet.

Wanda flips her hair smugly, “I don’t blame you, if I wasn’t with Vis, I’d drag you by your ear to your dad's trip. I still remember when he had that layover and stayed in a hotel, and came by when we were having a girl's night. Men who aren’t afraid of face masks, self-care, and pedicures are my kind of men—ugh, some guys our age avoid soap like the plague.” She goes on a rant about her past failed relationships, all of which you were a witness to the garbage fire, until Vis, an older philosophy major came along.

You try to listen to her, but your mind is filled with memories from your last trip home. As Wanda loudly shuffles through her makeup, rambling about another jerk, “He left his pubic hair all over the bathroom as if he hadn’t ever cleaned—I still have flashbacks.”

Humming absentmindedly, you fall deeper into your head.

Lately, you have been far too busy to do an actual stream. Only posting photos and short videos for your fans—so thinking about that man wasn’t the best idea. Especially since you just showered.

But, how could you stop thinking about him?

He was older than you, almost double your age and he was best friends with your father.

Chris was wealthy—with a family name that will be old money rich down the line. He spent his life getting everything he wanted, but he never lost touch with his humanity. Always a humble man, he’s helped friends and family whenever they needed it and even funded one of your high school trips to Europe. And he definitely wasn’t terrible looking—hell, he wasn’t even average, he was beyond it.

Naturally gifted with looks that could melt anyone. Brown hair that was always flawless, either styled, in a fluffy mess or covered by a baseball cap. Perfect facial hair over his chiselled cheekbones and strong jaw. A prominent nose and freckles. Dark eyebrows, thick eyelashes and most notably, his clear blue eyes that sucked you in with a single glance.

And his body, you remember when you excused yourself and to change your panties. Watching him strut around, shirtless with all his tattoos exposed and drinking a beer, had affected you so deeply, you had soaked straight through the cotton.

You also ended up taking the opportunity to film a little video of yourself in your bedroom. Then, you posted it along with a promise of doing more that night and warning your fans that you’d have to be quiet. A lot of them liked when you had to silence yourself and so did you. Just the possibility of getting caught if you were too loud.

For the rest of that trip, Chris was very friendly with you. More than usual. You’ve caught him staring at you plenty of times, just the weight of his gaze sent goosebumps all over your body.

It picked up from there. The stares turned into winks and sly smiles, he’d raise his beer to his mouth and take a hearty gulp, drops slipping from the corners of his lips before he’d lick them away. Sometimes he’d make a show of it and collect the droplets with his finger before suckling them clean.

At first, it was hard to consider that Chris was attracted to you in the way you were to him.

Then, it all solidified on the last day of your trip.

You grew comfortable with his light touches on your hips—those could easily be written off as merely platonic affection. Then, you hit a stump.

When no one else is around, he comes up behind you and his big hands massage your shoulders, working out the knots in your neck and back until you are swaying on your feet. Your core feels warm as you can’t help but think about what other things his hands were skilled in.

You let out a soft moan as he presses himself against you. His heavy breath ghosting your skin, touch wandering to your waist and down your hips, the tips of his fingers dipping into the band of your shorts.

Your legs tremble as he coos softly, moving your ass over his thickening length—he definitely wasn’t small. His guttural groans harmonize with your quiet whimpers, and you shut your eyes, leaning against him and letting him manhandle your body how he wants.

It feels like a dream come true, because it was.

You grab one of his hands and push it inside your shorts, under your bikini bottoms. “Please.”

Chris’ groans grow in volume as he presses harder, his big cock sliding against your ass. Long fingers gently explore your wet folds, dipping down to your entrance before rubbing your throbbing clit.

“Are you always this wet for me, baby?”

Blissed out, you nod silently.

The distant sound of a door opening and your name being called yanks back to reality. The rush topples over you. But you don’t want it to end, you don’t want him to stop.

But Chris makes the decision himself and pulls away. You whine in protest and he only shushes you.

“Next time.” He kisses the side of your neck then leaves.

After that, you were so worked up. You had to put out the fire he started then abandoned. You ended up in the guest bathroom with your hand stuffed in your shorts, pressed against the wall as you desperately brought yourself to a finish. You didn’t even have time to film it—only posting a picture of yourself and your wetness afterward with a caption:

AngelEyes: I’m sorry I forgot to take a video, daddy! I couldn’t stop after I started, please forgive me :(

When you retrieved your bags from your room, there was a neatly wrapped box on your bed. You didn’t have time to open it and hurriedly stuffed it into your luggage before dashing out the door. Quickly bidding your father and his fiancée goodbye, and kissing Chris on the cheek, as you always have.

Although, this time, you might have kissed a little closer to his lips. From the way his hand drifted to your ass, it was safe to say he had no objections.

The present was unwrapped the moment you stepped foot into your apartment.

It was a skimpy black bikini with more straps than actual coverage, sparkly rhinestones dangling from some hems like water droplets. There wasn’t a note, not even a little hint as to who it was from, but you didn’t need one. You knew exactly who gifted it to you.

Hence, why you’ve been tearing your apartment apart searching for the immodest pieces of fabric.

The same bikini Ransom refuses to give back because “I fucked you while you wore it, that basically makes it my property now.”

“My dad said that Chris offered to host the trip at his new house.”

“Oh, a new one?” Wanda quizzes, “How is that man still single? He’s loaded, funny, intelligent, and clearly isn’t ugly! It doesn’t add up.”

That question has popped into your mind too. Ever since you’ve known Chris, there have been only a few times he’s mentioned seeing someone, but you’ve never met them.

“Maybe he wants to be single.”

“Or, he secretly has an awful attitude, he could be annoyingly jealous, or have deadly morning breath—or, he’s actually an asshole that no one can stand.”

You pout, “Hey, don’t say that.”

Wanda snickers, “Right, I forgot you’re in love with him.”

In love was a stretch, it was more like deep infatuation, making you insanely attracted to him. You still daydream about the time you walked in on him shirtless and playing the piano.

Standing from Wanda’s bed, there are a couple of texts from Ransom, the first one is needy, I miss your body, baby, then they get progressively more Ransom-esque, I know you miss me too, answer your phone before I drive down there.

The very last one has a photo of his crotch, his cock hard under his pants bulging against the zipper.

You text him back:

I just posted on my OF. Use that, idiot.

Ransom: Oh, I did. Then, I scrolled and saw that picture of you in the shower.

A video pops up, the cover is just a black screen, and you click on it without a second thought. A deep groan bursts from your phone along with a low mumble of your name. Wanda yelps, slamming her brush on her dresser and covering her ears. “Don’t watch porn in my presence!”

“I’m sorry!” You rush to the hallway, already answering Ransom’s FaceTime call. You quickly shut your bedroom door, pressing your back against it. Admittedly, you’re a little embarrassed even though Wanda has heard and witnessed worse.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?”

Ransom smirks, face flushed pink. “Yeah, yeah. Now take off your shirt, baby.”

You glance at your bed still scattered with clothes and your luggage lying half-empty on the floor. You have to leave by tonight to make it to Chris’ house in the morning. You and Natasha already booked separate private cabins with beds since the ride would take at least seven hours. You were also planning on sleeping the entire time.

“I still have to pack.”

On your screen, Ransom’s head is thrown back, the veins in his neck prominent as he moans. Only now do you notice he’s shirtless and just out of frame, his arm moves slowly. You know exactly what he’s doing, and it’s starting to affect you too.

His blue eyes are drawn back to you, “Why are you going anyway?” His breath shudders, “You always talk about how you’re fed up with your dad’s dating record. Plus, three days without dick? Baby, you’ll go crazy. That is unless you invite me.”

“I already invited Nat.” You huff.

“Of fucking course.” Ransom growls, “Are you sharing a cabin?”

“No.”

He raises a dark eyebrow, “Then, I can still come.”

“No, you can’t.” You despise how his arm speeds up, the camera pans down to his heaving chest. The muscles contract with every breath. “My dad doesn’t like you.”

“Is this about that daddy thing? I told you to change his contact name.”

That daddy thing was when Ransom tried to send himself a photo from your phone. It was a sneaky picture of you suckling a popsicle, watching television in nothing but his shirt. Thankfully, your legs were shut and you couldn’t see anything except the marks littering your body, ranging from hickeys to bruises from Ransom. He took the photo from the other side of the couch and used your phone since he couldn’t find his. In contrast to the other ones he’s taken of you, it was completely innocent—only if you ignored his text about adding it to the ‘post-sex album’ he has on his cellphone.

When you told your dad it was Ransom, it just hammered the last nail in the coffin for any potential friendship between your father and him.

“I’m not changing my dad’s contact name so you can keep yours.”

Ransom spits in his hand and brings it back down, the camera angled so you get a glimpse of his red shiny tip. He groans, “Why are we both daddy anyway?”

“Because he’s my dad! And you’re you!”

That smug smirk appears once more, “Yeah, baby? I’m your daddy?” He flips the camera to show his fully hard cock, cum leaking down the thick girth that he uses to make the glide smoother. “Are you going to show daddy that pretty cunt? Let me watch you ride your fingers, pretending it’s my cock?”

Seeing his big hand grip his dick and squeezing the base combined with his deep voice—Ransom could get you wet in a matter of moments. It truly wasn’t fair. So, you give in. “Fine, but make it quick.��

His long fingers tighten, “Oh, sweetie, you doubt my abilities. I’ve made you squirt over text, imagine what I could do like this.”

“And here we are, cabin thirteen and fourteen.” You struggle to read your tickets, hands full of your bags. Opening the door to the first room, you sigh in relief and set down your luggage.

“No one told you to overpack.” Your best friend mutters, also carrying one of your bags. She drops it by the door before standing upright, clad in a pair of black jeans and a ripped t-shirt. “Uh… it’s cute, cozy.”

The cabin is quite small and compact. The walls are painted white, the floor is a dark blue carpet. There’s a tiny foldable table in the middle, across from a red futon, currently set up as a couch. You sit down, testing the cushion. It wasn’t soft but it also wasn’t uncomfortable, it would suffice for the seven hours.

Natasha fixes her hair in the mirror on the back of the door, her green eyes meeting your gaze, “We should’ve got the one with bunk beds, those have bathrooms. We’re going to room together over the trip anyway.”

“And because of that, I’d like to rest while I can. If we were sharing, I’d have to watch you perform.” You raise an eyebrow as she sits beside you, her single duffle bag landing on her lap. “I can’t believe you’re doing all that on the train.”

“Oh, like you’re a saint.” She shoves you playfully, the dark sky looms outside the wide window, “As if you didn’t let Ransom finger you in that movie theatre—”

You slap a hand over her mouth as other passengers walk by your opened door, mortified if they heard your loud-mouth friend. “Shut up,” you hiss as she laughs, “remember when you and Banner fooled around in the parking lot of that diner? And Ransom and I didn’t film that. It just—happened.”

“A lot of things tend to just happen when the playboy is around.” She cocks her head, “Did you know he tried to bribe me to cancel on you? He thought you’d beg him to come instead.”

A little stream of glee rushes through you, an easy smile crawling into your face. If you asked him about that, he’d either downright deny and play clueless, or he’d list the reasons why his company would have been better than Natasha’s, continuing to prove his point when the matter is over with. He’s always been like that, shameless and self-assured, with confidence radiating from him like heat from the sun. Ransom was insistent when he wanted something—at least he didn’t show up at the train station.

You subconsciously glance through the window, craning your neck to see the platform and thankfully, it’s empty. “Well, my dad hates him, so I’d end up going alone anyway.” You say just as the announcement sounds for the last passengers to board, signalling everyone else to get settled.

Natasha stands up, “you’re really just sleeping? I’m sure my fans wouldn’t mind the return of the sweet AngelEyes.” She sings songs.

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. Natasha was a camgirl too, the two of you started around the same time when rent was going up and college was getting rough. After making accounts on Twitter where you posted short clips, risque pictures and truly let your deepest fantasies free, you both took that next step to OnlyFans. From then on, fame has grown exponentially, now being quite popular individually, it felt only right to test a few collaborations.

You’ve done a few shows together, nothing too scandalous or wild, but also nothing you would classify as Safe For Work. Being semi-opposites and best friends, you and Natasha fit seamlessly. You were submissive, soft, and maybe a brat sometimes. Natasha was gifted in a way, she could adjust to whatever people desired, and still have fun. Truly without the roleplay, she was polar of you, the dominatrix of people’s dreams, cunning and tantalizing, mostly clad in dark leather or lace, the BlackWidow with red cherry lips.

“You’re missing out,” She trails off, digging through her bag before whipping out a vibrator. She waves it before your face like a treat to a dog, “When was the last time you got off?”

“Home.” You answer shortly as your phone chimes. It was as if anytime you thought of Ransom, he’d appear like magic.

Natasha’s green eyes narrow slightly, she can always read you easily, “Playboy came over?”

You know that look, you also know you can’t lie to your friend, “no, but we FaceTimed.”

The redhead smirks, “of course, I’m assuming it was farewell, send-off. You know, it seems a little sentimental… Is there anything you’re hiding from me?”

That would be a way out—if you were actually keeping anything from her, but you weren’t. Or at least you desperately hoped. “No. I’ve told you before, there’s nothing.”

She whistles lowly, “An arrangement going on for this long—I’m surprised neither of you has fallen in love yet.” Her gaze locks on you, searing straight through your eyes and into your brain as if she’s trying to read your thoughts. You cower away, actually considering if you’re keeping any secrets you don’t even know about. The final warning for passengers to be settled sounds, and Natasha slinks out to the hall. “I’m just saying—he’s a little obsessed with you.”

You ignore the faint curiosity that blooms in your chest, scoffing loudly instead, “everyone should be anyway.”

Amused, Natasha raises her hands, still holding the sex toy, “I won’t argue with you, babe.” Then, she’s walking away with her bags, her vibrant hair brushing her shoulders.

“Break a leg.” You call, leaning on the frame.

“Oh, we know I like it rough, but not that rough, miss.” She tsks, waving her fingers over her shoulder. “Knock on the wall if someone is coming.” Then, you hear the door slide shut and lock.

You shut your door too, closing the blinds for privacy. You set up the futon to a bed and grab the small pillow and blanket you packed, lying across the cushion on your belly. The train starts moving, slow and steady vibrations rocking you to sleep, your phone dings as you slip away.

Ransom: Have a safe trip, baby. Call me if you need me.

Ransom: Especially if you’re doing a show, I’ll help you prep because daddy always takes care of his girl ;)

The house is in a secluded neighbourhood, halfway up a hill and at the end of a tall winding road. Hints of autumn paint the trees in yellow and red, some specks of orange amongst the branches that loom over the thin street. A light breeze flows through the air as the car pulls up to the black fence, you can’t help but gape at the size of the home.

White with black framed windows, at least two storeys from what you can see, since thick trees sprout from most of the property, offering some privacy for the wide windows. A redstone walkway leads to the large front doors, potted plants scattered on the porch as ivy grows over the side.

After punching in the code, you and Natasha walk through the automatic metal gates. Your luggage rolls along the ground as you spot your father’s car in the driveway.

“Holy shit.” Natasha gapes, “All this space for one guy? There has to be a home cinema, I just know it.”

“Probably, the last house had a fancy library, like from a haunted house or something.”

“Smart, kind, rich, and handsome—I wonder how many people would kill to be in your shoes.” The redhead smiles coyly as you both walk up the steps, “after that incident last time, I hope you stretched in the train, babe.”

You scoff, “shut up—” your jaw snaps shut as the doors swing open, you’re met with your father’s wide grin as he sweeps you into his arms.

Wrapped in his familiar cologne, you return the embrace. “Finally you’re here! We’ve been waiting all day!” He exclaims, pressing kisses along the side of your face, his beard tickles your face.

“It’s only the afternoon, dad.” Your laugh breathlessly as he squeezes you tighter, “Where’s your fiancée?”

Your father pulls away, “She’s still sleeping, that woman can sleep through anything, she’s the heaviest sleeper I know.” He hugs and greets Natasha too, kissing her cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here, you bring out my daughter—she can be so shy sometimes.”

“It’s hard to be completely open with someone who I don’t know.” You frown.

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry, I just want everything to go as smoothly as possible.” He turns to you, that same lovesick glow in his eyes, “I think she’s the one, honey. I haven’t felt this way before.”

You force a smile, meeting Natasha’s eyes over his shoulder as he picks up your bags. While your dad leads you into the giant house, Natasha hooks your elbows together, offering you a few quiet words of understanding.

The interior of the house is a combination of white, black and neutral earth tones. Several doorways veer off into other directions as a grand staircase leads to the second floor, a sunroof allowing a downcast of sunshine. It’s a cozy industrial style with dark wood floors, subtle pipework and contrasting exposed brick walls.

In contrast to Chris’ previous estates, it’s raw—with the caged pendants and expertly repurposed furniture. Most noticeably, the dark round table centered with the beige rug, three fresh bouquets of roses, one of them already in a vase with water.

“Chris went on a run, he should be back soon and he bought these for the both of you.” Your father takes two bunches and hands them to you and Natasha, “He’s nothing if not charming, they’re real too. I’ll bring your bags to your room then find some more vases.”

While Natasha takes a short shower, you unpack your clothes and hang up your dresses. Your father popped back in to fix your bouquets and set them on the desk by the window.

The room was probably almost as big as your apartment. With two queen size beds on parallel walls, a walk-in closet and an ensuite. There was even a small seating room before you entered the rest of the room, fitted with couches, a television and an electric fireplace.

You change into a silk dress that ends at your calves and shrug on a cardigan before leaving the bedroom. As you walk down the hallway, you pass picture frame collages. Most are of Chris and his family around the world, Disneyland and in their other fancy mansions. Others are of Chris and his friends, including your father—one, in particular, is from when they reconnected after years.

Chris and your father were childhood best friends. Growing up in the same neighbourhood and attending school together, you remember your dad talking about the trouble they used to get into until Chris left to study abroad after high school.

They lost touch after that and your parents met, got married and had you. Years fly by, and Chris and your father loosely reconnect. You didn’t formally meet Chris until the summer after graduation.

You had gone with your dad to Chris’ house, one of them anyway—who knew how many properties that man had. First impressions were as good as they could be, Chris was kind, funny, a great host and handsome as hell. Surprisingly, that was when you met your dad’s secret-not-secret girlfriend at the time. Oddly enough she was Chris’ neighbour who met your dad when he was staying over for some old friend bonding. That relationship didn’t last long and neither did the next or the one after.

You wonder if Chris also was tired of your father’s record too, probably, since your father gives the same recycled “I’ve been waiting my whole life for this woman” speech.

Another woman to get to know only for her to disappear and for another one to take her place.

But Chris also cared for your dad, you knew from the friendly encouragement, compassion and concern. If you ever got the confidence to confront your dad, you’d ask Chris to help you.

“Back in high school, I was one of the quiet ones while Chris was practically everyone’s dream.” Your father laughs, hand entwined with the woman beside him, “He was doing it all, sports, student council, drama club.”

The older man laughs, “You make it sound like I was the guy when I was just a dude.”

You’re all seated around the table in Chris’ dining room. Remains of an early dinner spread on the table, courtesy of the personal chef who Chris hired for the day. He and your father planned the three days as a relaxing getaway, blabbering about the hot tub, heated pool and sauna by the home gym, “no need to ask permission—this is your house for your entire stay.”

Tomorrow is a girls trip while the men went on a hike in the neighbouring wilderness. Your father was adamant about you getting close with his new fiancée. A barbeque is planned for the second day, while everyone lounges beside the pool with drinks, soaking up the last bit of sun before fall comes in full force. The final day was free since your train ride is set for that evening and of course, your dad hinted at more quality with his fiancée, but Chris had spoken up too, “The girls might have course work, right? Any big projects coming up?” A clever way to stray the discussion.

Expectedly, he hasn’t said a word about the last trip, or even hinted at it. As if it didn’t even happen, you didn’t blame him. Although, you couldn’t help but admire his tight t-shirt, the material thin enough that you can see the tattoos on his skin, there are more than you remember. While you tried to sort your thoughts, Natasha was a natural conversationalist and got along with everyone, filling in those gaps of silence.

She’s glad to be the buffer after you found out your father’s new fiancee is only a few years older than you.

“I miss the days when we used to wait outside the supermarket, the ice cream truck would go by, it was a family business. Mr. and Mrs. Yan would always give us free cones…”

“Yeah, and you’d chase down every person who accidentally dropped change.” Chris points a finger at your father, “could’ve kept it and used it on the little kiddie rides.”

“That’s adorable.” Across the table, the young woman swoons, leaning her blond head on your father’s shoulder. “You’ve always been a sweet man, huh?”

“And tremendously frugal.” The blue-eyed man turns to you. At the head of the table, Chris sighs, “Your dad still refuses my money—just as he did when we were younger. Do you know I’ve caught him sneakily returning cash in my wallet? Like a little tooth fairy, except he was getting nothing.”

Everyone laughs, you and Natasha included. It’s lighthearted and casual, the plates are clear and the glasses almost empty as the sun begins to set, the rays peeking through the vast windows.

“I don’t want you to think I’m friends with you for your money!”

Chris rolls his eyes playfully, “I know that, you idiot—you’re lucky there are ladies present or I’d throw you into the pool.”

Admittedly, you’ve missed this. You’ve admired the friendship between your father and Chris, genuine and fun-loving, their years of experiences together were evident. Especially since Chris knows just how stingy your father could be. You’ve heard this same conversation a thousand times before, but Natasha hasn’t.

“What do you do?” The redhead asks, slowly sipping her drink. “This house is straight from Architectural Digest.”

“My grandparents own a hotel chain, worldwide and it’s up there with the Marriott and Hilton. I started working for them after college and now I travel around a lot for potential locations. Last week, I was in Miami—”

Your father interrupts, “—and he’s got quite the allowance—”

“—you know I hate that word, it makes me sound like a child.”

“—and his inheritance fuels the bachelor lifestyle. He’s like an older, but matured frat boy.”

Chris sighs, “Ah, frats, I wish I joined one instead of that private school shit—stuff, sorry, ladies.”

You can imagine him as a fratboy with a solo cup, an engaging yet cocky attitude, and being incredibly flirtatious. He already wears plaid, tight henleys, backwards caps, and that chain around his neck. If he shaved, he’d probably look ten years younger.

If you met fratboy Chris in college, you’d let him have you anytime and anywhere—you almost scoff to yourself—as if you wouldn’t let Chris as he is, older, distinguished and assertive, rail you into the next week.

As the memories come flooding back, you clench your thighs. While Natasha chats with your father and his fiancée, Chris catches your stare and licks his plump lips. His eyes trail down your low-cut dress, lingering on your breasts then returning to your face. He winks over his beer bottle.

And just like that, you’ve bitten the bait, and he’s reeling you in.

“How’s school for you both? Work?”

You clear your throat, stumbling over your answer. “We’re good… school is good.”

Natasha, bless her heart, swoops in. “It’s only the beginning of the semester, but I dread when exam season comes up. As for work,” She turns to you with a grin. Oh no, you know that look. “We work together actually.”

Your dad turns to you, his arm around his fiancée as if she would run away. Honestly, you almost want to tell her to run while she can. “You got a job? You didn’t tell me, hun.”

Your hand lands on Natasha’s thigh, squeezing as a silent form of look what you did. “Well, you finally took a vacation and met—her,” what was his fiancée's name? Carol? “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

The older man frowns, reaching over to take your free hand. His warm rough skin against yours as he hesitates, lowering his tone, “Is this about money? I said I’d always support you. Do you need—”

“No, no I just wanted,” You pause, trying to find the right words, “I wanted the responsibility—the work ethic. Skills that can help after I graduate.”

Beside you, Natasha hums in agreement. “She works so hard, to the point where she almost passes out right after a shift, but her customers love her, some even send her gifts.”

Oh god, you wonder if you should’ve just come alone.

Chris props his elbow on the table, blue eyes surveying your face, “Are you sure you’re okay? You know I’m here for you. With help, cash, advice—I’ve got a lot of experience under my belt,” He says slowly, “you know, budgeting and anything…”

You tear your fingers from your father's, taking a large gulp of water. “Yeah, I just wanted the, uh, discipline.”

Your father contemplates for a few moments then nods and launches into a story of his teens when he got his first job at a local retail store. You try to listen, even though you know it like the back of your hand, but you’re compelled to the man across from you. Chris’ dark gaze is set on you, almost pinning you in your chair. He takes a slow sip of his beer, a drop on his lips before he licks it away.

You feel something touch your ankle, trailing up your leg as his hand disappears beneath the table. Your father’s voice blends into background noise as Chris’ muscles flex under his shirt, his jaw clenched tight under his beard.

If someone could read minds, they’d be appalled by his thoughts.

On the walls of his mind are lewd fantasies. They’re all of you. Nude, a sheen of sweat coating your skin as he spits out commands, all of which you follow enthusiastically. Discipline, he knew you liked things a little rough from your shows. He’s witnessed you begging for guidance, and when you got it, you’d either follow them seamlessly or deliberately disobey.

A submissive angel who had a bratty side, with a love for being told what to do, and an even bigger desire to be punished.

His imagination is halted by your father's fiancée.

“My first job was at a juice bar, it was in the park of one of those high-class neighbourhoods. The ones with the fancy fountains and weekly celebrations. In the winter, we served hot chocolate and got off early—which was great because my boyfriend at the time had a job down the pier.” Carol turns to you, “Which was the best, everyone went to the pier, it was much less kept than where I worked. God, I loved the sunset there.”

Your dad smiles, “We always watch the sunset if we can.”

“I can only imagine what it looks like from here, with no big buildings to block the view.”

“Then, let’s head out to the backyard. We can watch the sunset on the deck—which I helped build over the summer.”

Chris kisses his teeth, “I said thank you a million times and tried to pay you—what else do you want, jerk?”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: good gosh, I can't wait to share the next part with all of you !! we get to see dbf!chris being filthy and meet a new character (a certain neighbour), jealousy drops by too !

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! next part: Feb. 11 @ 6pm EST.

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

[aquagustd]

Can i request a smut where Taehyung or Jungkook just continuously slaps your ass. Even when you’re cooking, around the members, or in public. It just turns into smut. I’ve been thinking about this for 5 days. 😀

🌸

mercy - JJK | M

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: slight crack, fluff, smut

word count: 1.3K

warnings/tags: new relationship, strong language, JK loves them buns, the word 'ass' is overly used, explicit smut- dirty talk, slight body worship, fingering, spanking, degradation, unprotected sex, grinding, creampie, cockwarming, sex in the kitchen

a/n: alexa, play 'Smack That' by Akon.

∞

It started off as playful taps, cute little nudges with his palm on your butt.

You knew you had a cute butt, everyone knew you had a cute butt and so did your boyfriend.

Still a little coy around him, his light slaps didn’t annoy you at all, sometimes he would just place his hand there, give it a light squeeze now and again.

Until it wasn’t cute anymore, quite the opposite really.

He would land harsh smacks to your ass wherever you were, whoever was around, he didn’t care. Seokjin had spat out his juice on one occasion when Jungkook’s large hand met your ass with a resounding *whoop* that actually made you jolt forward. You were highly embarrassed and didn’t go out with Jungkook and the boys for a week.

Then, you were at your parents’ place. Jungkook is a polite guy, he wouldn’t do that to you? Would he? Of course not, he’s very respectful, right? WRONG.

You were bent over the kitchen table, talking to your mother when you felt an unsuspecting hand on your ass. Your mother had laughed it off, so did he, but you were left with an ass cheek as red as the ketchup bottle your father had dropped at the kitchen doorway upon entering at the right wrong time.

Then, he had come over to drop off your lunch at work. Aw, so sweet, your co-workers praised his caring ways. Until, yes, until he had landed not one, but TWO, sounders to your poor, poor ass. Why did it have to be so cute to him? You were lucky that your boss wasn’t around. Some of your female colleagues had come to your desk just to tell you how lucky you were for having such a “shmexy” hunk like him. The thought did make your pussy throb. That lump of a hunk was all yours.

And may whatever deity you believe in help you the day you wear yoga pants around him. You might as well walk around naked, with the way his palm seems to jiggle your ass whenever his hand is there, you know, massaging, squeezing, SMACKING.

It’s been quiet for a few days now, as in, no smacks or whips to your beloved peaches. You kind of miss them? Do you? Really?

You’re frying an egg, when you feel him come up behind you, his lips placed at the back of your neck as you hum blissfully.

“Jagi,” he whispers into your hair, sending a shiver up your spine, then proceeds to sit on the chair at the counter, taking his warm and thicc body with him.

Oops, you dropped a spoon, you proceed to bend down very subtly as you pick it up, holding for a few seconds. And there it is, the delicious sting as his powerful hand meets your awaiting ass.

Then.

Something amazing happens, this particular slap flipped a switch inside of you, a moan escaping your lips and before you could even stand up your full height, two large hands are gripping your hips and pulling you between his legs. His very hard dick nestling between your cheeks. He moves your ass up and down against his clothed length, your panties begin to soak with your arousal, the pleasurable feel of him against your slit.

You push your ass back a little more, a groan breaking from his chest.

In one swift movement, he spins you around and attacks your mouth, so hot and slick as he stands up and backs you up against the counter, a tiny gasp muffled by his mouth when the cold granite hits your back. He pulls away, his palms where they belong, working you up.

“Love this ass,” you moan as he squeezes harder, your body pushing against his.

A needy whine bubbles out of your lips and he chuckles, the tips of his fingers dipping lower behind you to touch your slit, spreading your legs with a hiss.

“You like it? When I do this,” he draws his hand back to land the hardest smack you’ve ever been blessed with, his name coming out in pants, pussy clenching around nothing as his fingers tease your clothed folds.

His hands move up to your sides then pulls off your shirt to toss it somewhere behind you, his greedy eyes roaming your bare breasts. His shirt joins yours on the floor and he spins you around to press your face into the cold counter, body shuddering in anticipation when pulls your pants over the globes of your ass. It falls to the floor and you step out of it, your eyes fluttering shut when you feel his warm hands down your bare ass.

“So-“ *smack* “-fucking-“ *smack* “-sexy-“ *smack*

You’re crying out as your hands move around the counter desperately to grip onto something, you can feel your arousal trickle down your thigh.

As if he senses your struggle, he grabs both your hands in one of his and holds it behind your back, body straining a bit but it feels so, so good to let him take you like this.

The pads of his fingers circles your slit and you bite down on your lip when he pushes one in, hair falling in your face as your heart pounds in your chest.

He adds a second finger and begins to push in and out of you, hooking his fingers, scissoring them to stretch out your walls for his thick cock. Your walls squeeze his fingers in, loud squelching filling the small space of your kitchen as you mewl, wrists trapped in his strong hold.

“Fuck, I think you’re ready for my cock now.”

He pulls out his fingers and smacks your ass, stickier this time, body moving up on the counter, pussy on display for his wanton gaze.

You feel the blunt tip circle your clit, breath rushing out of your lungs when he plunges in, his grip on your hands tightening as he bottoms out.

“Fuck, so fucking tight around me. Look at you, bent over for me like this,” hand coming down on your ass hard, you’re sure it must be bright red by now from how it stings, he massages the flesh, “such a good little slut, letting me take you in your kitchen like this.”

His hips slap into yours, balls hitting your clit with his pace as you gasp and moan, the tip of his cock brushing deep inside of you, leaving you breathless, “more, more.”

“More?” He chuckles, “greedy little slut I got here.”

He drills his cock into you while your walls grip onto him like a vice, earning a string of curses from him when you feel your ridged walls flutter and clench around him, the drag of his cock driving you crazy, drool slipping out of your mouth and onto the counter.

“You gonna cum for me? Hmm? Give it to me like my good little slut.”

He reaches down to rub your clit, trembling in his hold when the heat overwhelms you and the pressure snaps, spasming as he continues to thrust inside of you.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” you feel his hips still against you, hand involuntarily yanking your now sore ones back as he spills inside of you, your walls still quivering around him as you feel him soften.

He bends down and kisses down your back then let’s go off your wrists. He places a kiss to each hand then grabs your chin to tilt your head back so he can cover your mouth with his, sweaty body pressed against yours as his tongue swirls into yours, the musky scent filling the air around you.

Pulling out of you with a hiss, he holds your waist and pulls you away from the counter to press his chest to yours as you stand on shaky legs.

His hand creeps down your back to rub your sore cheeks, his lips moving against yours as he speaks, “this belongs to me.”

*smack*

-

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