#like not the throw up or anything but some white dude buying the rights and casting himself as the star. get fucked

[squiddlysquoo]

Just heard the news about the Murderbot tv show. I suppose the books will always be there !

#Murderbot #murderbot tv show #like not the throw up or anything but some white dude buying the rights and casting himself as the star. get fucked #at least I can stop worrying about it now. solidly fallen on the ‘it’s gonna suck shit’ side of things #I’ll probably pirate it to see what the fuck they did when it comes out but tbh. kind of fine with it. passed thru all stages of grief at on #at once #I guess we’ll see if this dude is willing to go by it/its pronouns and be normal about it or if we r gonna get a wonderful he/ham situation #n guess we will see if the other queer stuff gets to stay in. was kind of psyched to see super normalised polyamory and queerplatonic stuff #in tv #but yknow. we will see if it makes it to the screen lmao #that persons cis woman ART casting horror theory looking more and more likely by the day

[greatooglymooglyyy]

Like I Do (Chris Sturniolo)

summary: Chris and I have been best friends our entire life but what happens when things start to feel way more than platonic for me? (Based on I Do by Renee Rapp)

contains: fluff, pining, a little bit of angst ig, bestfriends to lovers, kissing, nothing serious, 1k words

"I leave the key in my mailbox just for you. So you don’t call when you’re coming over, you just do."

I sigh deeply, tossing my phone from hand to hand and debating calling Chris. My brain has been replaying the last time we hung out on a loop, and I can’t figure out if I’m overthinking it or not. I know Chris has always been effortlessly affectionate, but there was something different about the way he cuddled up to me last week as we watched movies.

The way he’d pulled my legs across his lap, mindlessly running his hand up and down my thigh as if it were the most casual thing in the world. The way he’d fallen asleep and pulled me close, refusing to let me go when I tried to let him have the couch. I just can’t figure out if I’m losing my mind or if it means more. Just as I decide my crush on Chris has officially rotted my brain, I hear the unmistakable click of my door unlocking and Chris singing out my name. Oh, I am so fucked. I scramble up and go out to my living room, where he has already made himself comfy on the couch with a bag of fast food on the coffee table.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming over.” I say nervously, taking the seat on the couch furthest from him. He gives me a strange look, like I’ve grown an extra eye or something. “When do I ever?” Very valid point. If I had a dollar for every time one of the triplets let themselves into my apartment, I could buy a house in their neighborhood. “I dunno.” I mutter, reaching for my food, completely unsurprised that Chris has my order memorized. I glance back over at him, trying not to stare as I take in how good he looks in his simple white tee, his gold chain swinging as he fidgets. He catches me staring and gives me another weird look before stretching his legs out, intertwined with mine, and grabbing the remote. I try to calm my heart down, reminding myself that he’s like this with everyone.

Chris turns on my TV and goes through the apps until he finds HBOMAX. “If we start Game of Thrones, will you explain it to me?” He asks, cocking his head to the side as if already confused. I smile at his expression, despite myself, and feel some of the weird tension between us loosen. “You got it, dude.”

“This is why I love you.” He says, grinning, throwing his hand over his heart. And I feel his words like a dagger in mine. I don’t reply; I can’t. Because I mean those words completely differently than he does, and it makes my whole body ache.

As the episode starts, I feel Chris’ gaze bore into the side of my head, so I sigh and turn to meet his eyes with my eyebrows raised. He looks like an absolute meme right now, his face scrunched up like he’s trying to figure out something impossible. “You are being mad weird.” He says finally, pausing the show and scooting closer.

And I know this is the moment. Me and Chris have been friends since before either of us could even tie our shoes. Our friendship is one of the most constant things I’ve ever had in my life, and I think it’s because we’ve always been honest with each other. Even if it was scary. Except for this.

I take a deep breath and turn back to Chris, squaring my shoulders. “Can I be real with you for a second?” I ask, maintaining his eye contact even though I’m dying to look away and drop this. “Crazy that you think you have to ask?” He moves even closer, a small worry line gathering between his brows as he gives me his full attention.

“It’s fucking me up that we see each other so differently.” He leans forward, his face even more confused than before.

“Chris, I’m so fucking sprung over you, I can’t handle it. And I don’t need you to say anything. I don’t need you to feel the same. But I need space to get past this so we can go back to normal. I need to take a breath that’s not full of you so I can figure out how to get over this.” I say, closing my eyes and shaking my head as I finish so I won’t cry.

“Yeah. I need you to open your eyes and look at me when I say this.” He says before reaching out and taking my face in his hands. I peel my eyes open and meet his, praying he lets me down easy."

“If you don’t think I’ve been in love with you for half of my life, you need way more than those glasses you wear at night. I feel like all I ever do is chase your high. I’m drunk on you half the time.” As he speaks, he runs his thumb up and down the side of my face, his touch so light it feels like snowflakes falling. “I’ve been waiting for you to be ready. Waiting for you to say the word.”

I’m stunned into silence as I try to process his words and the enormity of what he’s saying. “You love me?” I whisper, still in disbelief. He grins and leans in, brushing his lips against mine briefly before answering. “I love you. And you love me. You admitted it. No take-backs.”I laugh and slip my hands around his neck, pulling him in to press my lips against his now. He smiles against my lips, deepening the kiss slightly, but then pulling away.

“Alright, so I get that this was a whole thing, but I really do wanna know what all the hype is with Game of Thrones. So are we done being gushy or-"

“Boy... not you ruining the moment-"

#christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo oneshot #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader

[drxmxss]

Hole in One | Taeyong x Fem! Reader

a/n: 🤭 my first little one shot yay!! i hope y’all like it hehe.

notes: taeyong is bored and rich, reader is a cart girl at a country club, fluffy and smutty, overuse of the word hole lol

warnings: smut..thats abt it !

word count: 2.6k

Enjoy!! Tysm 🩷

———

“You really need to stop staring at her. It’s weird.”

Johnny’s voice breaks Taeyong out of his trance.

“I’m not staring.” He grumbles. “I’m trying to think of what I want.”

“Is he staring at the beverage cart girl again?” Mark asks, standing up straight again, holding his golf club like a baseball bat over his shoulder.

Taeyong doesn’t know why he goes with the two to play the absolute most boring game he’s ever heard of. Golf was terrible. They had to wake up at ass o’clock and dress like they were going to church to get drunk on hot beer. All the while trying to hit the tiniest balls into holes a mile away and stand in the sun for 6 hours. He had no idea why he agreed to go with Johnny and Mark to a country club in the first place. It just wasn’t his style.

Then along came the little golf cart with drinks and snacks driven by you, the beautiful beverage cart girl. Two months and a ridiculous amount of club fees and a set of clubs he didn’t even know how to use later, here he still was.

“If you wanna talk to her so bad stop making me go buy shit from her dude.” Mark says as they get into the cart to go to the next hole. Taeyong sighs, pulling at the itchy white collared shirt he bought specifically to come here.

“It’s not that simple she’s probably just gonna think I’m like these old dudes who play here to creep on her.” Taeyong says. Mark and Johnny share a look. “For starters” Johnny begins. “You don’t look like you have one foot in the grave. She’s probably happy to see us here since we are most likely the youngest members of this stuffy club.” Taeyong shrugs. “Okay what’s your next point?”.

“Second of all, whenever she sees Mark walking up to the cart she immediately scans the field for you and whenever you aren’t paying attention she’s staring just as hard as you do.” Johnny smirks as Taeyong feels his face get hot. You stare too?!?! God that’s hot. Or weird? Embarrassing? Taeyong doesn’t know.

As the boys park the cart near the next hole, Taeyong hears the sound of another cart pulling up behind them. Before he turns around he hears Mark shout “Hey Y/N!”

Taeyong feels his blood run cold.

“Hi Markie! Hi Johnny!” You shout back, waving excitedly from the front seat of your cart. Taeyong wants to die from how pretty your voice is. “I came up here to see if you guys needed to get anything? It’s hot today!”

Taeyong can’t help but stare, still sitting in the golf cart. You just look so cute in your uniform. Perfectly white cap with a tank top and tennis skirt to match. God he feels nauseous.

“Yeah Taeyong wanted something I think.” Johnny says, throwing an evil smile at Taeyong who is plotting on how he can blow up his head with the power of his mind. “Y-yeah right.” He says quickly as he gets out of the cart and walks over towards you.

“Oh so you’re Taeyong! I see you with the boys all the time but I’ve never got to talk to you.” You smile as he stands in front of your cart. “I’m Y/N.”

Taeyong feels sweatier. You can’t be real.

“What did you want hon?” You ask him sweetly, and he feels like he’s melting into a puddle. “I’ve got some chips and sandwiches and I have some chocolate in the ice chest in case you want something sweet? Theres plenty of beer and water too!”

Taeyong stares blankly, too nervous to even breathe and then says shortly “Beer. Please.”

Yep, he’s already fucked up. With any luck his mind magic worked and Johnny will burst into flames at any moment now.

You smile and nod as you turn around to grab the beer from an ice chest. Taeyong tries to be a gentleman but can’t resist sparing a glance at your ass in the pristine white skirt. Nice.

“That’s gonna be $6.” You smile, handing him the drink. Taeyong realizes he didn’t even tell you what brand he wanted at that moment and looks to see you already knew his favorite. He finally manages to smile as he hands you the cash, only to walk away awkwardly to sit in the cart again.

“Okay you boys be careful! I’m gonna circle back around later to make sure you guys have plenty of water!” You wave to Mark and Johnny and beam at Taeyong again. Taeyong’s chest hurts. You are just too sweet.

Taeyong waits to hear the turn of your cart engine, but it never arrives. He turns to see you groan.

“Damn it’s dead.” He hears you grumble.

“Everything okay?” Mark asks you, and you sigh. “No my stupid cart died. I knew it was on it’s last leg but..” You trailed off. “God now I have to lug all this crap back to the clubhouse.”

“We can help you take your stuff back!” Johnny suggests. Taeyong takes back every bad thought he had against him.

“Oh are you sure? It’s kinda far and I don’t wanna interrupt your game!” You reply. Johnny shakes his head “No it’s alright, it’s too hot today anyway we we’re thinking about leaving early anyway.”

In that moment Taeyong knew there was a God and his name was Johnny Suh.

—

Once everyone had all arrived at the clubhouse, Taeyong helped you bring the ice chests inside.

“Are you usually this quiet?” You ask suddenly “I don’t mean to ask in a rude way but after seeing how loud Johnny and Mark are it’s surprising to see how reserved you are.”

Taeyong feels his face get hot again. “Oh um….Not really. Just when I’m tired. It was pretty hot out there.” He chuckles, trying to seem light.

“Ah that makes sense.” You reply. You both leave the ice chests in the main office of the club house just as Taeyong’s phone begins to ring. You signal to him that you’ll be right back as he picks up the call.

“Hello?”

“Take Y/N home.” Johnny whispers. “This is your chance man. You take her home or to your place or whatever in your car me and Mark will just catch a cab.”

“Have you lost your damn mind?” Taeyong whisper yells “She’ll definitely think I’m a creep!”

“She’s always complaining about using a cab to go home, if she brings it up just offer! Worst thing she’s gonna say is no!”

Taeyong sighs as the call ends. Time to be a man he thinks. Johnny is right the worst thing you can say is no.

He turns around to ask you if you needed a ride and finds you standing there in a regular shirt and shorts. Somehow it makes all the more attractive to him.

“Oh um. Johnny had mentioned you complain about taking the cab alot so..” Taeyong begins. Come on be a man! A man!! He thinks. “I wanted to ask if you wanted to go get dinner or something and then I can take you home if you want?”

You stare at him briefly. You think to yourself it might be weird to accept and offer from a stranger, but you also know he’s super handsome and you’d be dumb not to.

“I’d love to!”

—

Things continued to go well for both you and Taeyong. You had suggested he pick something up to go after you discovered he lived in such a nice apartment and you wanted to see if he really got away with drawing on the wall. Hearing this made Taeyong almost drive off a bridge, but he obliged.

As Taeyong drove up to his apartment complex, the only thing running through his mind was you. Your laugh your smile your voice. You were so perfect in his eyes.

And now you were going to be in his apartment. He was going to have to think of some way to repay Johnny and Mark one day.

“Wow! This place is great.” You said as you both walked inside. Taeyong smiled at your enthusiasm, setting the food down on the kitchen counter.

“Where’s you bedroom?” You asked, turning to face him. “I wanna see your drawings.”

Taeyong nodded and led you down the hall of his apartment and unlocked his bedroom door to let you in. Immediately you were greeted with neon lights and drawings that littered the wallspace.

“Wow…I really thought you were joking!” You giggled. Sitting on his bed, you admired more of the drawings on the wall.

Taeyong was suddenly aware he was still wearing his stuffy golf clothes. He started to change before he caught you staring at him shirtless. Cracking a smile at you he said “Can I help you?”

You quickly blushed and looked back toward the wall, embarrassed. “Oh I’m sorry for staring..”

Taeyong felt a wave of confidence overtake him as he walked to kneel in front of you, trying to make direct eye contact. “Honestly…it’s okay. I stare too.”

You faced him now, confused. “What do you mean?” Taeyong smiled softly at your expression. “I mean the only reason I even go to that stupid country club is to stare at you in your pretty little uniform all day.”

You stare into his big dark eyes waiting for some sort of change, but it doesn’t come. He’s serious now. You feel your face get even hotter.

Fuck it Taeyong thinks, and leans forward to kiss you softly, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you forward. You gasp at first, and then melt into him. He deepens the kiss and you moan softly, bringing your hands up to his dark hair.

Before he gets carried away, Taeyong pulls back. “I-is this okay?” He whispers softly, kissing down your neck to make you shiver in his grasp.

“Yes yes.” You whisper back. “I know it’s quick but I know I’ve wanted you ever since you started coming to the club.”

Taeyong feels lightheaded, and laughs as he pushes you down on his bed. “That’s good to hear.” He says, laying on top of you to continue kissing you harder.

Taeyong pulls away again to lift up your shirt and bra, revealing your bare chest. You feel yourself grow shy, but before you even have a second to process your thoughts you feel his mouth on your nipple.

“Fuck” You moan. Taeyong pulls away again and kisses the nape of your neck. “Everyday.” He whispers. “Every single day I was at that stuffy old club all I could think about was your cute little face and how badly I wanted to just flip up your tennis skirt and play with your pussy.” His words make your face feel impossibly hotter and you feel your panties start to stick to your gushing core.

“Taeyong…” You moan again, this time moving your hand down his warm chest and stomach to feel his hard bulge. “Please fuck me.”

“I will baby don’t worry.” Taeyong replies. “I’m just so happy you feel the same way.” He finally stops his ministrations on your neck to sit up and move your hair out of your face to get a better look at you.

“So pretty..” He muses, making you blush even more. Finally, he pulls down your shorts and admires the wet spot on your panties.

“Aw honey I barely even touched you..You’re so cute.” Taeyong says slowly rubbing your clit through your panties making you moan louder. “Hurry up please.” You whine to him.

“I know honey.” He whispers, pulling your panties off making you shiver as the air makes contact with your wetness. Taeyong slowly pushes a finger into your hole, making you whine at how easily he slips in. “Fucking hell.” He curses, amazed at how turned on you are. (And how turned on it makes him.)

“Taeyongie please give me more.” You moan out. Taeyong pushes in another finger quickly scissoring you open after hearing his new nickname. “You are so impossibly cute baby.” He whispers again.

Finally after deeming you ready he pulls off his shorts and underwear in one go. Your eyes widen at the size of his hard cock.

“Baby do you wanna turn around for me? Just for a minute?” Taeyong asks you softly. “I wanna see your pretty ass bounce on my cock first.” His words make you hotter, and without even thinking you’re laying on your stomach with your head in one of his pillows.

Taeyong slowly caresses your back and the moves his hands to grip your ass softly. “So fucking pretty.” He mumbles, lining up his cock with your hole finally.

You both moan when he sinks into you perfectly. Not even sparing a second he starts thrusting slowly, making you moan louder and louder.

“Fuck your so fucking tight around me honey. It’s crazy.” Taeyong babbles, obsessed with the way your ass bounces against him. You can only muster up a half groan in response to him. “Aww has my pretty girl gotten herself cock drunk already?” Taeyong teases you, going faster and harder, making you scream out. “That’s it baby let it out.” He says.

After a few minutes, you feel yourself getting closer to your peak. Suddenly Taeyong pulls out of you, almost making you sob in response.

“I have to see your pretty face when you come baby flip over for me.” Taeyong says, rubbing the small of your back before you quickly move onto your back. He leans down again to kiss at your neck and face before grabbing your cheek kiss you roughly, making you whimper.

Taeyong leans back to line himself up again and slowly pushes in, watching your expression change and once he’s bottomed out he starts of hard and fast, moaning in unison with you. For a moment you think about the shy person he was just a few hours ago, and this change makes you all the more wetter.

You feel yourself reaching your peak quickly, barely making out the words. “Taeyongie…m’gonna come.”

Taeyong leans forward to rest his fore against yours to ask “Where do you want me to cum honey?” The question pushes you further to the edge as you say “Inside.”

This makes Taeyong nearly burst at the thought of it. Soon enough, you feel him getting sloppy as he whispers in your ear “Cum with me baby I know you can my pretty girl.”

Moaning loudly you feel yourself squirt around his thick cock right as he finally explodes inside you, riding out both your orgasms before quickly flopping in the bed next you. He rolls over again to lay his head on your chest as you fight to control your breathing.

“God damn.” You finally say. Taeyong just laughs as he lays on your chest, snaking his arms around your torso to pull you even closer to him.

“Hey I just realized” He says “Our food is probably super cold by now.” You both look at each other for a moment before bursting into another fit of laughter.

As he watches you get up slowly to put the takeout in the microwave and begin a movie marathon Taeyong thinks maybe golf isn’t so bad after all.

#drxmxss writes #nct 127 #nct smut #nct fluff #nct fanfic #nct taeyong #taeyong x reader #nct hard hours #nct hard thoughts #taeyong smut #nct imagines #nct #nct x reader #nct scenarios

[iliaclwrites]

hi! eddie x cheerleader during lunch where mike, lucas, and dustin are all like : "0-0 her????? you got her???? how?? this is fake right?? he paid you, right???" and she's just like "no? and they ask for proof and she rolls her eyes and shows them her tiny "e" [for eddie] tattoo and they're like "wow! but it could stand for anything. we need more" so eddie is like fuck it and stand on the table and just kisses her in front of everyone

wow i got carried away- ily <3

"What's his favourite colour?"

"Red," you said dully, looking at your nails. Shit, was your ring finger chipped? You chewed the nail, looking up at Dustin.

"What's his favourite food?" he demanded, and you sighed.

"Mashed potatoes and chilli," you responded, and then paused. "But he also really loves the monster shakes you can get at the deli," she added, furrowing her brows. "And raspberry white chocolate cookies. That boy's a bottomless pit."

"What's his favourite book?"

"The Return of the King," you said, scratching at your nose. "Especially the appendices. He loves the appendices."

"Who loves the appendices?" Eddie asked, swooping down to kiss your cheek and lounge across the bench. "Ooh, are these for me?" he asked, snatching some tater tots from your plate. "You're the best, pom poms."

"You love the appendices, Eddie," you said, and he nodded, shrugging. "This little menace," you said, tossing a tater tot at Dustin, "has been quizzing me on my Eddie general knowledge."

Eddie frowned, leaning over the table to Dustin. "Huh? Why?" he asked, resting his chin on his hands.

"There's no way you're actually dating," Mike said, spreading out his hands. "Like, she's a cheerleader. You're definitely paying her to go along with this."

"Like scam," Lucas said.

You blinked. "You could not pay anyone enough," you muttered, "to listen to this asshole snore all night."

"Hey!" Eddie elbowed you in the ribs, and you huffed, clutching his forearm to your chest as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. "What don't you buy? I'm stunningly handsome, charming, clever, and an all-around fun-time gal. Why shouldn't I date her?" He leaned over, raising his eyebrows at them as he whispered conspiratorially, "Is it because I'm a bit out of her league? I know, poor thing."

"Eddie!" you laughed, and shook your head at him fondly. "Look, is it really so hard to believe?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

"Yes."

"Yes."

"Et tu, Gareth?" Eddie asked, and the other boy shrugged. "Okay, look, how do we have to prove this to you? This is ridiculous."

You were rolling up your sleeve, presenting them with the looping letter 'e' you had on the inside of your elbow. "I got this done drunk," you said, and raised your eyebrows at them. "Convincing enough?"

Lucas' hand came over the table and started to rub at the tattoo. "Seems real," he reported back.

"That could stand for anything. Erebor."

"Eventide."

"Enemas."

You wrinkled your nose. "I'd tattoo 'e for enemas' on my body?" you asked, before throwing your hands into the air. "I give up. You kids are ridiculous."

Eddie pointed at all of them. "Okay. Watch this, and watch closely, because I'm only going to do this once." He twisted toward you, and cupped your chin in his palm, turning your face this way and that. And then, quietly, just loud enough for you to hear, "Open up, pom poms."

He kissed you.

You clutched at his jacket in surprise, but melted quickly into his kiss, sighing happily as he stroked the nape of your neck with his long fingers. He pulled away, and raised his eyebrows at the boys, your hands still entangled in his lapels.

"Got that?" he asked.

"Ew, dude," Dustin said. "I was eating."

#eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x cheerleader #s: two households

[yoke9494]

Me,U, Your brother, &Your Forehead.. (Ran Haitani/F.reader)

*Au-.. ish?

*FIRST TEASE REQUEST!! (Wattpad)

*Slight NSFW/ Cockblock Rindou.

*Drug use

*Crack on crack.

*Never proof read! Live dangerously!

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

Living next to the Haitani's had its ups and downs.

Downs included: Waking up from a much needed nap or dead sleep to hear Rindou on his DJ set. He was good but honestly, not "Oh cool! We're partying at 3am?" good. Not really "I have a mad hangover but keep playing!" good..

Other times you'd hear a bunch of thuds and Ran yelling. Throwing a fit about not getting his way or throwing dudes around... Well you hoped it was dudes? Not some poor girl getting her guts liquidified.

Rip..

And don't get me started on all the sketchy shit they have going on in their house..

But they weren't all too bad you guessed. Sure they were loud, nosey, a little mean.

But the good part was..

"What are you doing outside? Looking all sad and shit."

You rolled your eyes at the sleepy purple ones staring you down. You had tried to hide from everyone. Curling up in the hammock in back of your house--  just to get some air, some time to think..

But somehow it was always Ran who sniffed you out... Especially when he wanted something.

Shrugging you let out a sigh. "Just sitting. What are you doing outside? Shouldn't you be asleep like always?"

Ran copied you. "Can't sleep." He eyed your slouched figure. Hunchback of Notre Dame looking ass, but he noticed you weren't in your usual homeless wear today-- you looked nice?.. Oh Right! "Hey, wait! I thought you had a date today? That one nerdy guy with the lame glasses?"

You knew who he was talking about and you fought the urge to throw something. "Ugh. A bust... Turns out guys who get good grades and act charming can be assholes too."

That was a shame... Ran had high hopes for that one. (Not really ) "Wanna come over and smoke? Rindou's out-- we can play in his room."

Tempting...

Though any other girl would take that sexually you knew better. Rindou had all the cool gadgets and shit in his space. He didn't let you or Ran touch ANYTHING since you both broke everything you laid your eyes on.

Fuck it..

"Sure."

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

The thick smoke swirled around in the air, making pretty white sheer shapes. The pungent smell of weed seeped into every fiber and surface in Rindou's poor room.

Oops, guess you two forgot to open a window.

After the second joint was lit you and Ran couldn't focus on anything. Not Rins DJ set, not the video game console, not even his laptop that was playing some movie in a language you both didn't know.

Your body was light, your head quiet. All the stress of the day just melted away. Your eyes felt heavy and you were starving! It's a good thing you and Ran had a plate of Chicken between you... While you both laid on the floor.

How did you end up there with a plate of chicken? No fucking idea.. One of you must have fell or laid down. Then the other joined..

Where did the chicken come from? Hell if you knew.. And Ran didn't know either. When did he leave the room to make them? Did he buy it? Where was his wallet?

Ran didn't even remember getting up and making the snack-- did you? You should because you were standing right next to him..

Either way they were warm and the meat was juicy. The best fucking chicken you've had in you life! All crispy and shit..

"What was I saying?"

What? Was he talking? Oh shit-- you were too busy mouth fucking this chicken.

"Uh--"

Ran gasped. "Oh yeah! So yeah. I didn't hit it.."

Oh now you remember! He was trying to make you feel better about your failed date by telling you his.

You shook your head. "Why not? I mean, I don't clam slam myself but she's fucking hot! I'd try the chowder if it was her."

Ran snorted. "She had clitter glitter."

You made a face at the ceiling. "What now?"

Ran took a slow bit out of his chicken. With a full mouth. ".... toilet paper. There were pieces of toilet paper in her coochie down to the crack. It gave me the ick so I made an excuse to leave. Said Rindou was stuck in the dryer.. She actually bought it!"

The laugh you let out. it probably made the windows shake. "You're shitting me?!"

Ran smiled and shook his head no. The proudest look on his face that he actually pulled some shit like that off. "Nope. That girl has the body of a porn star but the brains of a jellyfish. I'd probably have to bubble wrap her if we ever got drunk or high together. I don't want to babysit."

You nodded like you understood what he was saying. No you weren't judging Ran's choice in girls, you really couldn't. Sure he liked girls who were basically walking fuck toys. But you were no better-- You liked guys who were well off academically. You sure as hell weren't.. But if you ever tried to have them partake in your lifestyle? You'd be babysitting too.

...Turns out you both sucked at picking them. They always turned out to be the same-- a waste of time

"Any whoodle toaster strudel-- Say something babe.... You being all quiet is making me paranoid."

Oh shit.. "My bad." You slowly opened your eyes. You hadn't really noticed that you closed them and started drifting off with a half eaten chicken wing in your hand.

You looked up at the ceiling..

Mean purple eyes stared back at you... It sent a shock of fear up your back and you gasped while trying to make the floor swallow you up to hide you from the evil one..

Ran twitched beside you. He was slowly falling asleep too. "What?!"

You saw a blur of blonde and teal. 'Just looking all mad this one..' "Uh...I think Rindou's home."

Ran hummed from his spot. "Oh shit. We should get out of here before he sees us."

You smiled while Rindou scoffed and nudged his brother with his foot. "What the fuck are you guys going in here?! Getting your greasy ass finger prints on my shit!"

Ran sat up. "Oh shit! Grab the children and run!"

Children? Did he mean the fuckin chicken?..

You watched Ran run out (more like stumble out) with the plate of chicken and only one braid still holding on. He yelled after you. "To my room bitch!"

You snorted at the sight. Then it hit you-- you looked at Rindou. "Did that 5 headed hoochie call me a BITCH?"

Rindou nodded but then pointed to the hall. "Out. Before I pop out your joints from their sockets."

You grumbled and rolled before getting up. You grabbed his hand and placed the half eaten wing in it. "For your troubles." Then walked (Ran--stumbled) out.

Rindou rolled his eyes and threw it in his trashcan. "What an idiot.."

-----------

When you walked into Ran's room he was waiting for you on his bed. The window was finally open and let in a cool breeze.

He clicked his tongue when you fell face first into his bed. If this mattress could talk.. There would probably be a few cum stains yelling. "Paapaaa." "Papaa Ran, hold me."

You would normally shoot up and go home to scrub yourself raw-- IF you were sober. But right now.. you were getting tired.

Ran cleared his throat. "So I was thinking--"

You cut him off. "Did it hurt?"

He pushed your head into his mattress a little deeper. But you could hear the smile in his words. "Shut up."

You snorted and motioned for him to go on with your hand.

He took a second but eventually spit it out. "Why don't we just date?"

"Huh?" You turned to see Ran in your bubble. You pushed his face away. "Act like your hairline Haitani and back up a couple inches."

Ran deadpanned. "I'm serious."

You laughed. "Hell no."

He seemed hurt. "Why not?"

You gave him a droll look. "Why not? Why NOT?! You're not boyfriend material Ran."

He held his hands over his heat. Fake ass.. "Ouch! I'm hurting. Kiss me to make it better."

...Oh.

You scoffed. "Damn it Ran! You're just horny. I'm going home."

He stopped you before you could even get up. "No. Seriously.. What's wrong with dating me? You know what you're getting into, you know I'm an asshole already. You already know what kind of person I am and the shit I'm into and I know what kind of person you are. It makes sense right?"

You scrunched up your nose. "That's the problem. We're too much alike. We'll probably fight everyday."

He shook his head and smiled. "So? At least we'll be able to mad fuck after. I last longer when I'm mad."

That was a joke.. he could go on for hours! *Snort*

You were about to tell him to fuck off.

"Just one kiss. If you feel nothing I won't bring it up again. I just wanna see."

It was probably just the weed talking. It couldn't have been that Ran secretly had a thing for you.. nooo. Not that.. It wasn't because he was fed up with watching you waste time on little pussies when he was right there. Just waiting for you to be his.. No it wasn't the weed that gave him enough confidence to do what he's been thinking about.

And it must be the weed that kept you on Ran's bed...

It's the weeds fault you didn't tell him "No." when he asked to kiss you again. And it was the weeds fault you kept on going.-- totally not the way you actually felt comfortable around Ran, and it's not like you found him kinda attractive either..

He was just a friend-- You were his friend--- You both were bad at lying. Couldn't even convince yourselves..

Your mind was buzzing. But so was your body.. and no. It wasn't a bad feeling.

The kiss was sweet and slow. The complete opposite of what you and Ran were really like. You both tried to hide it-- but again, you knew one another so why bother?!

+++++

Underwear was the only modestly you and Ran had on right now. You were pretty sure you ripped his shirt in two-- that's okay. Your bra was fucked too.

It's funny.. You both had gotten high and drunk together hundreds of times. You've hung out just for the hell of it, hell you even napped together sometimes! Why did you both wait so long to do this?

Your back arched when Ran's fingers curled deep inside you. His thumb drawing tight figure eights on your slippery clit.

Rindou was in the next room.. Poor guy-- Ran shut you with a sloppy kiss. Teeth clanking and tongues rolling. But in reality, he didn't want his little brother to hear the sounds that were only meant for him. He was the most greedy out of the two anyway.

Geez possessive already?

He couldn't help it. His dick was hard and up against your thigh. It hasn't even felt the squeeze of your soft walls yet and he was losing his mind. Should he be embarrassed of all the pre cum that soaked though his underwear and onto your skin? Probably-- but your pussy around his fingers made his brain slower than the weed ever could.

He let out a groan when your cunt began to flutter and grip at his fingers. Your thighs began to twitch and you nails dug into the skin of his arm and back before your tried to push him away.

He's heard stories... That's probably why he wanted you so bad but-- (That's what he told himself..)

His speed picked up and he pushed against that soft spot deep inside everytime he shoved his fingers in. He wanted to keep you quiet but found himself lost in the way you sounded.. The way his name came out, a tone of pleasure-- desperation, instead of annoyance.

He could get used to this..

You let out a pornographic like moans that he began to mock but quickly they became real and breathy just like yours.

Clear liquid began to gush out of you and Ran's never been so happy to have his mattress ruined.

He couldn't wait anymore. His cock was stiff and beginning to hurt. Your underwear was yanked off from the middle of your legs. His was already gone..

You felt a little shy while he spread you wider for him. He was just staring..

"What? I have clitter glitter too?"

He smiled. "You're glittering with something else. I don't really wanna waste it."

Before you could ask.

His face was between your thighs. Your fingers tangled in his hair. That braid that was hanging on for dear life gave up it's battle long ago. You hardly saw him with his hair down, but it was doing something to you..

Especially when he looked up and groaned into your pussy. Like he was a starved man and eating his very last meal all at the same time.

He finally came up for air. "Can I fuck you now?"

You shrugged. "Sure. I'm just here enjoying my time until you man up and shove it in."

Ran wanted to argue but he was getting desperate.( he wasn't going to tell you that.) But he did tell himself you were just as needy. Especially since you were quick to wrap your legs around him when he climb up.

One more kiss-- Ran hissed when he lined himself up to your entrance. His head was the only inches he had in-- why were you still so tight? What was wrong with you?

He was going to have to shove himself in. Eh, he'd feel bad about it later---

+++++

Ran's room door swung open...

Rindou walked in. He didn't even seem bothered that you literally threw Ran off of you and covered yourself with his bedsheets.

Ran was so red! Rindou wanted to laugh but held it in.

"What the fuck Rin?! I'm going to beat your ass!"

He ignored his brother and looked at you. "So, quick question. You think having a bubble machine at one of my gigs is a good move or?"

..... Was he fucking serious? Your high was dying a bit-- Did you really almost fuck Ran? WTF?

You shook your head and leaned back on his headboard. "Uh.. What?"

Rindou rolled his eyes while Ran was just flabbergasted. Were you really answering Rindou's stupid questions.

"Bubbles? I was asked if I could DJ at some rave."

You let out a little "oh.." before you perked up. "A rave you say? What kind of bubbles? Because if I were you, I'd get some neon colored solution so it would look trippy under the black lights."

You two began to talk like Ran wasn't naked on the floor and you weren't naked in his bed.

(Rin) "Wanna go with me?"

You tilted your head. "Seriously?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

You liked to dance.. "When?"

He took out his phone. "In like an hour. You can be my dancer and be with me on stage if you want?"

"Oh hell yeah!" Both brothers blinked when you ran out to go get ready. You didn't bother to get dressed or anything! Just wrapped up in Ran's sheets and out the back door.

Rin was the first to break out of his perverted thoughts. Since Ran still had his pants around his ankles. He could use this opportunity..

Rindou stepped up to his big brother. Wearing his stupid smirk.. "Are you mad?"

Hell yeah he was! But Rindou didn't let him say shit.

"I bet you're mad.. But you know what? Do you remember a few summers back? We were bored out of our minds, then suddenly a big orange moving van pulled up?."

Ran was gritting his teeth. "What?-- orange van? The only time we've seen one was when Y/n moved in next door."

Rindou scoffed. " Looks like you haven't completely smoked out your brain. But remember when she stepped out of her parents car? What did I say?-- I called dibs.."

Ran stood up and pulled up his pants. "I don't know what you're talking about. And I don't care. Get over here so I can bash your face in."

Rindou stepped back and smiled. He was mocking Ran by shaking his finger in his face. "Ah ah.. If you hit my face she'll ask what happened. I'll tell her you did it. She won't talk to you for a good while."

He was right... You always gave him shit and told him to be nicer to Rindou. He protected his baby brother all the time. They were together all the fucking time. How was that being mean?!

Instead of the face Rindou got a good punch to the gut. It had so much force that it actually hurt a little to pee..

Eh, to Rindou-- it was all worth it.. Especially since he had you next to him all night.

#tokyo revengers #ran haitani #tokyo revengers rindou #x reader #ran smut #ran x reader

[saintship]

could I request a florist!könig x reader?? I don't even know how this would go, but I like the idea of him being absolutely enthralled in plants and bugs as a kid. lil dude would know anything and everything about flowers, because he'd bring back random assortments of wildflowers and foliage back to his grandmother after a day of wandering around the woods and playing pretend, and she'd buy him a big book about flowers one day because she thought it was adorable.

was thinking reader could be a regular, because she likes having fresh bouquets around her workplace/at home/to give as gifts? she knows quite a bit about flowers and their meanings (though, it pales in comparison to what könig knows- i don't think anyone could ever compete), and she's just head over heels for whatever whack ass/gorgeous assortment he comes up with for her.

who knows, maybe our lil köni finally musters up some courage one day and throws in a free bouquet for her? 👀

Ancient draft. Cobwebs. Please forgive me this request is magical

*Some real places are mentioned but the floral shop is fictional ALSO if my German is bad feel free to correct me and I can make the edit, thank you!

Daffodils - König x reader

Salzburg wasn’t the city you were born in, but it might as well have been. You’d found a peace there; the summer rain, snowy winters, and captivating architecture being just a few wonders of the city.

Hotel Altstadt was where you made a living, tucked inside a busy plaza where the young children could never seem to sit still. A dozen or so steps across from the hotel was a small floral and plant nursery.

Königs Blumen un Pflanzengärtnerei, a shop that had grown popular since it opened its doors for travelers and tourists. The shop was beautiful, inside and out, with creeping vines and a wonderful twinkling filling the room each time the door opened. The brass bell responsible was entwined with a long sprig of lavender, which carried its smell to greet newcomers. Shelves of live, flowering plants lined the walls, some of which you couldn’t name, while in the center, a calm fountain bubbled around several ferns and tall lilies. The piece would block the register entirely if it weren’t for the owner’s height—he had to be more than 6’5’’, with generous muscle accompanying his stature and a head of auburn waves that brushed his ears before tapering off. He always wore a black fabric mask with floral detailing. Beautiful, but you always wondered why he did so.

The reason you were lucky enough to familiarize with him was the honeymoon couples of the hotel—you were often tasked with picking up entryway bouquets and treated rose petals for the bedspreads, and protected that position with your life. Today was the day you gathered enough courage to strike up a non-professional conversation with the man you’d been admiring for some time.

A breeze slanted through the alleys and roadways, providing some relief from the warm weather. You made your way across the plaza with your delivery cart as usual, thanking a young girl who held open the shop door for you. You walked inside, glancing into the fountain where coins glittered below the wavering surface.

“Good morning, König.” You sidled up to the counter, offering him a smile.

“Morgen! Here for the roses again?” He replied brightly, leaning down to reach for the package of white and red roses used for romantic suites.

“Yes, thank you..” your heart pounded as you received the first package, not missing how your fingers grazed his hand.

“I’m sure you grow a lot of these, huh?”

You managed to spit it out; a simple invitation to a real conversation.

“Yes..but it is not often I’m bored.” König remarked, handing over another package. “I enjoy the white ones especially.”

You gazed at the flower he’d pointed out, nearly getting distracted before quickly stowing it away and reaching for the next.

“Eternal love, right?”

König looked up, blinking.

“The meaning, I mean. Of-of white roses?”

Oh my god, kill me.

“Oh, yes! I have heard that perspective..though I always thought the classic meaning was most accurate; youthfulness.” He paused, holding onto the third package to study it. “So—young love, then.” He looked up, and you felt as though the earth fell around you. You took the last box, setting it down carefully.

“What other meanings do you know?” It didn’t matter that you knew many already, you just couldn’t drag yourself away from him.

“Quite a few..” he looked off a bit, thinking. “What’s your favorite flower?”

You felt a twinge of warmth at your cheeks. “Daffodils.. daffodils are my favorite. I like adorning flowers too, like baby’s breath and lily of the valley.”

He blinked, pleasant surprise flashing over his gaze. “Are you a florist?”

“I make arrangements for my friends sometimes—so, freelance?”

He laughed a bit. “Keep it down, I need business.”

You smiled in return. “Every good business has a partner, no?”

You don’t know where this banter was coming from, but decided to seize the confidence while it was there.

“I suppose you’re right.” König conceded, then studied you for a moment. “You already know what daffodils represent, don’t you?”

You don’t reply for a moment, seemingly forgetting how to form a sentence, before your phone goes off.

“Sorry..hello?” You turn, holding the phone to your ear. “Right..okay. Be right there.” You click to end the call, grasping your cart. “I’ve got to go. Nice talking to you..”

You steer back into the plaza, letting a deep breath free itself from your chest. Your hammering heart only frustrated you further, shaking your head and getting back to to work.

It was a notable stretch of time before your job drove you back to König's shop; lord knows you weren't going to wander in there on your own volition. The thought of him started to make your heart flip over, and it was close to nauseating. When you did, you saw something near the door that caught your eye. Abandoning your cart, you approached the small display table arranged to the side. You usually had trouble with written German as opposed to spoken, but the label was straightforward. "Blume des Monats". Flower of the month. It was an arrangement nestled in a small ceramic vase, the dominating flower being--the daffodils.

"You inspired me."

König's voice behind you made you turn, nearly spraining your neck from surprise. "I did?"

He was wearing a button down today, the sleeves hiding his hyacinth tattoo.

"You did. The adorning pieces, too. I find yellow and white fit nicely together for a light summer arrangement, both their looks and etymology."

You turn back, confirming the appearance of the baby's breath that framed the yellow flowers. "I agree."

König stepped up so he was standing beside you, looking at the arrangement as well. "I have to tell you, uh.. while I was arranging this, I wasn't imagining it to be displayed."

You look up at him, blinking. "No?"

He seemed to avoid your eyes. "No." he shifted his weight, glancing at the floor. The sight of a relatively intimidating man shifting on his feet was, admittedly, endearing. Still, the warmth in the tips of your ears irritated you to no end.

"I was going to uh..give it to you. Because I thought you'd like it. And then I was going to ask you on a date."

You smile to yourself, looking at your shoes. "I wish you would have."

You felt his eyes on you. "Truly?"

You nod, meeting his eyes. Suddenly, your nervous energy melted ever so slightly into a comfortable sort of understanding.

"Well, uh.." König took the arrangement by the stems, the water dripping as he held it in front of him. You couldn't help but laugh gently at his tenacity.

"Your floors-"

"Could I take you on a date sometime?"

"I--yes, just, oh your shoes.." you take the hand he holds the flowers with, setting them gently back in their place. You can only see his eyes, but they seem to be smiling.

"Wonderful. I'll have another when I pick you up."

"Oh, that's not-"

"With orchids."

You blink, his proximity suddenly clouding your awareness.

"Oh."

His eyes seem to tilt with another smile.

"I think you know their meaning."

#cod requests #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mwii #könig call of duty #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig cod #könig modern warfare #könig fanfiction

[themultifandomgal]

Matt- Moving In Together

We decided that I would move in with Matt and Kelly. I couldn't have Matt move out and leave Kelly all on his own. Plus Kelly has become one of my best friends. I sold my one bedroom house, thankfully I didn't have much to move and now Matt and I are figuring out or dynamic now that we have moved

"Babe can you ask Kelly to sort through his whites. I'm going to do a wash"I tell my boyfriend pulling out whites out of our washing basket

"Sort his whites?"

"Yeah you know white shirts, bedding that kind of stuff"

"Errr"

"Please tell me you've been separating your washing"

"Yeah of course we have" Matt leaves our bedroom. No way have they been separating their colours. I take all of our things and head to the kitchen where our washing machine is. Kelly walks out of his room holding his things

"Matt said you wanted my whites?"

"Stick them on the counter top and I'll wash them after I've done ours"

"I'm also making dinner tonight since we're all off"

"Matt if you don't wife her up, I will" Kelly says making me laugh. Matt walks over to me and wraps his arms around my waist

"You've got no chance"

"While I finish unpacking I might have a little job for you"

"And what might that job be?" Matt hugs me tighter

"I need you to go to ikea and get me a couple of units. I'll send you a text with the ones I want, you can have my card, but can you also build them for me?"

"Sure" Matt kisses my cheek before letting me go

"Thank you"

While Matt and Kelly are out I open up the last of my my boxes and sigh pulling out a jumper that was my ex boyfriends. Why I still have it I couldn't say, I forgot all about it. So this box must be one that I never unpacked when I first moved to Chicago. I pull out more things out of the box checking if it's anything I want to keep or give away. I place the jumper back in the box and put the box on the coffee table to remind me to give the box to charity and I make a start on dinner.

"Hey babe you forgot this box" Matt calls as I plate up our dinner

"That box is for charity" I walk out of the kitchen to find Matt holding my ex's jumper "when I moved I never unpacked that box. I forgot what was inside. That's my ex's jumper. I would say lets just throw it in the fire and burn it, but 1. I live with firemen and 2. It's so bad for your health breathing in the smoke so, charity it is" Matt places the jumper back in the box

"Your a lot nicer than I could be" Kelly comments

"Well I am quite a nice person" I chuckle "dinner  is ready by the way"

"Like I have already said if you don't hurry up and propose I will" Kelly pats Matt

"Dude it's not even been a year yet"

"So? When you know you know right?" Kelly shoves food into his mouth

"You just finish eating then build my shelves" I point to Kelly who salutes.

That evening Matt and I are in bed cuddled up to one another

"You know when I do ask you to marry me it will be a huge thing not just a throw away comment"

"How do you know I won't propose to you?" I ask Matt who looks a little shocked but then smiles

"Then I'd say yes"

"Well if you proposed to me then I would also say yes... just so you know"

"I'm confused does this mean we're engaged now?"

"I guess we're engaged to be engaged" I giggle cuddling up to Matt even more

"God I love you"

"I love you too"

"We need to find Kelly a girlfriend"

"Kelly doesn't need a girlfriend. He's enjoying his single life"

"I don't buy it. We're going to help get him a girlfriend. I'd say April would be a good match, but I'm pretty sure Ethan and April have a thing going on. What about Gabby?"

"They would probably end up killing each other"

"What about Erin? Jays partner?"

"I think there's something going on between them as well. He'll find the right girl when he's ready"

"I know" I sigh

"Get some sleep. We've both got long day tomorrow"

"Goodnight Matt"

"Night baby"

#matt casey #matt casey imagine #matt casey x reader #Matt Casey x oc #Matt Casey x yn #one chicago #one chicago imagine #chicago fire #chicago fire imagine

[tamakishoochie]

Part 1

Read part 2 here

18+, MDNI

Word count: I forgot my dudes lol

THIS IS A BLACK BNHA FIC‼️

DONT LIKE? DONT READ MF‼️

"Alright ladies, I'm back from the mall with some items I need you to try on!”

Yanni exclaimed excitedly as she tossed the bags she held on the bed the three of you, Yanni, Monique, and yourself, shared. You all grew up together, went to the same school, and graduated together, so it made sense to move in with each other. You could all afford to buy your own beds, but you, along with your two roommates, enjoyed the cuddling.

"Aht, now you gotta tell us what you have planned," Mo said, eyeing the shopping bags hard while you sat next to her with a straight face. Knowing Yanni, it was probably another night out at a club.

"Okay fine. Y'all know Dynamite, right? The Hero? Well, he invited me to his homie's house party tonight and I'm taking my two favorite girls with me."

"Dynamite? We're supposed to believe that YOU know him and he knows you..? Girl..." You gave her the 'your deadass?' look before rolling your eyes and waving her off. Yanni had a little crush on the Hero for a while now and somehow he magically knows her all of a sudden?

"Really? How do you know Dynamite?" Mo asked, arching a brow at her friend and Yanni smiled in response with a little blush on her golden-brown face. You placed your thumb under your chin and thought about her words for a while until it finally popped up in your head. With a hand over your mouth and wide eyes, you start to shake Mo's shoulder with your other hand.

"YOU'RE...FUCKING...DYNAMITE?" Mo made the 'OOP' noise right before the three of you squealed like school girls. 

"Now how did you get his mean ass to notice you?" You skeptically asked with your arms crossed. The man stayed with a scowl on him and of all people, why DYNAMITE? The dude was mean and cold to everyone, even his girl fans.

"That's a story for another time! Now hurry up and try on these clothes, we gotta party to go to tonight." Yanni spoke before going to the bathroom to freshen up her makeup.

"I'm gonna go get y'all some jewelry, I'll be right back." Yanni says while applying another glossy coat of lip gloss as she makes her way towards the door again.

"Why can't we use your stuff? You have more than enough." You say with a hand on your hip and Mo nods her head in agreement.

"Y/n you still owe me a 50K pearl necklace and Mo, you lost my favorite diamond choker. I'm not lending you two bamsee-holes anything else." Yanni says before leaving through the door again. Both you and Mo look away at the same time, biting both of your fists in embarrassment. You forgot about that pearl necklace incident. Reaching into one of the bags, Mo pulls out a brown leather dress that came with black and white spotted thigh high heels.

"Oh, these are cute!" Mo chirped happily as she glanced over her outfit for tonight. You could always count on Yanni to keep her girls looking like baddies. With a lazy grunt, you reach over to the other bag before pulling it over to you. Reaching in, you take out your assumed outfit and squint with puckered lips. It was another leather dress that looked as if it would go all the way down to your shins. Something you could barely move in.

"Now how am I s'pose throw ass in this?" Tossing the dress to the side, you look in your bag again to see if there was anything else to wear. With that big of a smile on your face, thankfully there was. You pull out another dress from the bag and your eyes lit up because you knew you could make something shake with this. It was an olive green dress with decorated holes on the sleeves and both sides of the dress. The fabric was soft like leggings and with the type of ass you had??? They might as well call you thunder booty! With a glance at the clock, you get up to start changing.

"What time did she say the party started, Mo?" You asked and she shrugged so the two of you squeezed into the bathroom together to change just in case. It was 10:30 PM already, so you assumed it would start around 11:00, and knowing Yanni, she wouldn't tell you the time until it was last minute.

   ~~~~~~~~~~TIMESKIP~~~~~~~~~

"Alright now, girls! Is your makeup done? Is your hair done? Jewelry on?" Yanni called back to you and Mo as the three of you stepped out of her Bugatti that was parked outside the gates of what looked like a mansion.

"I gotta do my lips real quick since we barely had time to get everything else done, damnit." You mumbled as you dug in your purse for your gloss. As you applied, you could hear music blaring from within the large house, the song "Buss It" making you dance a little in the seat. Afterwards, you climb out of the car and walk up to the gate where a HUGE group of people waited just to get inside. Yanni led you and Mo to the very front, ignoring the complaints from the crowd, and tried walking past the security guards but they wouldn't let them through.

"Hello? I'm Yanni Aoyama, the model?? Let us through." The guards shook their heads and continued to stay in y'all's way. 

"I know Dynamite, he's the one that invited us," Yanni spoke and pointed back at you and Mo. The two guards looked at each other and laughed.

"We've heard that one before, princess. BACK OF THE LINE!" The guard yelled and that was when you heard a loud, deep 'AYE' from within the gates. Looking between the bars of the gate, you could see Kendrell Bakugo, better known as Dynamite, walking down some steps shirtless with a Hennessy bottle in his hand. His cuban link chain and studded earrings sparkled from the moonlight. Intense, blood-red eyes glance over to Yanni then at the guards.

"Didn't I say if a blonde walks up in this bitch like she owns the place, to let her in? Let my girl in and stop fuckin' with me." His voice dropped a couple of octaves and that made the guards finally let you three in followed by a 'yes sir, sorry sir.' You watched as Yanni ran up to Dynamite, kissing him on the lips before hugging him. So she WASN'T bull shitting earlier.

"Look, I wanna introduce you to my friends." Yanni chirped as she brought him over. Dynamite nodded his head to both you and Mo.

"Remember I told you about Mo, the one who was obsessed with Cellophane? And Y/N is the one that liked Red Riot." Yanni explained to him and he smirked while wrapping his arm around Yanni's shoulder.

"So you like Cellophane and you like big homie, Red Riot?"

He took a sip from his bottle before continuing,

"You're their type, you know? Told 'em to look out for a couple of girls like you. My guy, Cellophane, likes big-headed women." He points to Mo who blushed from embarrassment and from the fact that she could potentially be with someone who appreciated her forehead size :(

"No disrespect, ma, you're still cute though. Look at Rihanna, her head is big as hell but she's still fine as hell, too." Yanni gently yet firmly jabbed his side with her elbow, signaling for him to stop being mean. Again, what did she see in him?

"And you, you're decent. For Red Riot, at least." He snorted from his corny joke and you rolled your eyes. Boo🍅🍅🍅you were throwing tomatoes at him in your mind.

"You ain't skinny-" Yanni pinched his earlobe hard and he cursed under his breath from the pain. It's crazy how she's the only one that could do that without being blown up.

"You didn't let me finish, fuck! Look, you're not skinny, but that's a good thing. Red likes the chubby, thick women. Especially ones with attitude." He sips from his bottle again, eyeing you hard.

"Anyway, all the Heroes are inside in a dance circle. You'll find the bastards in there." You nod and head your way to the front doors of the mansion with Mo at your side.

"You coming, Yanni?" You flip your hair over your shoulder before looking back to see Yanni having her neck attacked by Dynamite with kisses and bites. Oh, she was getting some action later.

"Come on, Mo, let's get inside." The closer you got to the doors, the more you could feel the vibrations through them from the music being loud as hell. The song '10 Bandz' had just gone off and the song 'Look At Me Now' started to play. Opening the door, you walk in with Mo right behind you and your eyes adjust to the colorful lights flashing everywhere along with what looked like smoke coming from a mini fog machine. You didn't expect anything less from a hood-ass house party. There were red cups and bottles everywhere on the ground and the whole place smelled like weed and sweat. Pretty sure you found some panties and bras too.

"Mo, if niggas get to shootin' we're running out of here like tomb raiders. Do you understand?" You playfully made a running motion in place and the two of you giggle at the joke that could very much happen at things like this. Dynamite was right though, there was a dance circle going on and a large one too.

"You wanna get something to drink first or see what's happening in that circle?" You asked Mo who was looking around nervously. She was watching out for Cellophane.

"Drinks it is, then!" You cheer while guiding your friend to the bar where two people were making out. You ordered a glass of water and something strong for yourself. You needed a buzz to start dancing and acting a fool. You wouldn't remember it either way tomorrow. All of a sudden, the music stopped playing and everyone got quiet. Looking up, you see a man with a black mullet standing on the second floor with chains dangling around his neck. He wore a black wife beater and yellow sweatpants. Looking down at the crowd, the man who goes by Hasani Sero, better known as Cellophane, started rapping lyrics to a song loud enough for everyone to hear.

I got yo' bitch in a headlocc,

fucked on that bitch, then I sped off

Hit the gas, lookin' for red dots?

Cellophane asked as if the lyric was a question to be answered. He sipped from his red cup and smiled after getting the reaction he wanted. The crowd all yelled out in unison, screaming 'HEADLOCC' right before the song 'Headlocc' by Yella Beezy started playing right after and everything got loud again. That was one hell of an entrance. You looked over at Mo and saw her fidgeting in her seat and slowly sipping her water.

"There goes your man, girl~.." You tease Mo and she gulped while watching Cellophane make his way downstairs to finally join the party, his head bobbing to the beat of the music. Out of the entire squad, Cellophane had to be the finest. Well, the second finest. Okay no, he was the third because Big M was fine as hell too. But something about Desmond...UGH, they were all fine.

The only one that stood out the most to you though, was Elijah. Better known as Red Riot.

God, that man DOES things to you, even now you could feel the butterflies in your stomach just from thinking about him. He was tall, standing at a good 6'7, so you would have to look up at him. That man was swole and he looked so strong! Not to mention the tattoos he had. Those turned you on. The chain he wore, the locs, his lips, AND OH LAWD, the GRILLZ he wore! Red Riot was finer than fine. You take a sip of your drink and look around the room. It was lit tonight, even though you weren't the party type. If it had been someone else telling you there was a party tonight, you wouldn't have come at all.

"Alright now, imma need all the baddies in this mothafucker to get in the circle and show daddy electro what you can do!" Yelled Desmond, better known as Chargebolt. He sounded drunk from how he slurred his words through the mic. Right before he passed out, though, the song 'Get Low' began to play and you couldn't resist the intro to the song. The drink you had earlier started to get to you and the song was a CLASSIC banger.

"Come on, Mo, let's pop our puss-" you looked back and saw no one there. She must've gone along without you. You squeezed and moved your way through the crowd to find a good spot to dance in until someone bumped into you who was dancing a little too hard.

"Aye, watch it-" you began but then realized who it was.

"Oh hey, I found you again!" Yanni spoke loudly to make sure you heard her over the loud music. Grabbing your wrist, she drags you towards the front of the circle.

"Mo's in the center of the circle and she's dancing on Cellophane! You gotta see!" You two made it to the front and there she was, moving and shaking her ass on Hasani, who looked like he enjoyed it. With every movement she made, he would follow along with his hips up against her ass. Sigh, your second girl was gonna get some action later, too. You cheered for Monique as she continued to dance on her celebrity crush. The quiet girl was throwing ass, who would've thought.

"OOH, I love this song!" Yanni giggled while swaying her hips to the intro of 'Have Mercy' by Chloe that played next. In the mixture of people, Yanni managed to have a little space of her own to start dancing to the beat of the song, her hips wining in all directions. You respected and went by the girl code, so you instinctively went behind Yanni to make sure no one would even THINK about coming up behind her. With the liquor still in your system, you decide to start dancing too, right next to your friend. The two of you laugh and hype each other up as you both throw some ass! Yanni made it bounce and you threw yours in a circle and you had fun while doing it.

The next few songs came and went and you had eventually taken off your heels because they were KILLING your feet. Sitting down with another drink in your hand, you watched Yanni dance with Kendrell and the look on her face made you smile. She deserved to be this happy all the time. You were about to call it quits and let her know you were ready to go, that was until you heard the all too familiar 'MM MM MM MM MM MM LEMME TALK TO 'EM' of the next song playing. Apple. Bottom. Jeans. A hood classic! Downing your last drink, you make your way towards the center of the circle with Yanni and Mo right behind you. Y'all were here to fuck it up on the dance floor! After the beat dropped, you dropped it to the floor twerking low to the ground with Yanni and Mo screaming as they cheered you on.

"What yall know about this?" You say jokingly, trying to impersonate an old man. You were having so much fun that you didn't even notice a certain pair of red eyes staring you down hard. At the 'shawty got low' part, Yanni and Mo and every other person made their way down to the floor before slowly bringing it back up again. Right in the middle of the song, Hasani and Elijah themselves, the tallest dudes in here, make their way to the center. The 'Entertainers' that everyone loved at every party. The two were goofballs, but they knew how to keep a party going.

"THAT'S WHAT I TOLD HER, HER LEGS ON MY SHOULDERS..." Yelled Elijah after being handed a mic to sing along with the rest of the song. He shook his red locs and bobbed his head violently with Hasani as he continued. Hearing his deep voice rapping the lyrics made butterflies invade your stomach again. He was so HOT.

To keep everything cool and calm, you continued to dance with Yanni and Mo, ignoring the tall man at all costs. Well, you tried to at least. You were getting into it again and didn't even notice someone was approaching you. Mo and Yanni noticed and motioned for everyone to make a new circle around you and the man behind you. You didn't understand what was happening until you felt someone bump roughly into you from behind, almost knocking you over.

"Gah damn! Watch it! You're not trying to fuc-" You turn around to give the person a piece of your mind until you see who it was.

"-k me.."

Elijah smiled a sharp, toothy grin and showed off his grill and dimples as he gripped your hips and pulled you back against him.

"Show me what ya' got~.." He says, a little demanding, but you give him exactly what he asked for. You danced on him and you twerked on him and he was catching it ALL. His hips moved in sync with your ass and you could low-key feel something else rubbing against you, but you decided to ignore it for now. You look around for your friends but you can't see them. You were alone on the dance floor throwing it back on Red Riot.

#black bnha #black Kirishima #black Aoyama #black Bakugo #black yaoyorozu #kirishima x black reader #mha #bnha #jordy writes ✍🏾

[hellosaysnoxx]

Hii!! Im here to request a matchup for Inside Job and possibly South Park too?

I would like one to be a platonic relationship if you do south park and a romantic one for inside job pls^^

My appearance is that i have brown shoulder length hair, brown eyes and glasses as well. And i think im 5��5 at least. Im white ofc. Im also a trad goth / medalhead person in style

My personality is that im a ENTP but at first I’m shy and awkward but it wears off sooner anyways, im very energetic and up beat and i love being funny like i like making sexual jokes

My interests are playing video games(rhythm games too, but i love obey me, mystic messenger, and more), cosplaying, drawing, writing, making music funny im a beginner vocaloid producer, i like spending my time online.

I like taking car rides love sleeping in hotels, being with my friends, i love going to amusement parks, i love food, AND i have a obsession with KAITO fr vocaloid😭 im serious like i have merch of him everywhere im in love with him(could you add that in there? :D)

My dislikes are when people compare me to someone, i hate, HATE spiders, i hate rude people too, i also hate to many loud noises such as the TV being to loud.

My boundaries are… well ummm.. i dont have much but as long as i dont get paired with the dolphin dude😭

I would like a kind person for my relationship, it doesnt matter who just as long as their kind and friendly with me :)

Some random facts about me: I have autism.

this is me! @siouxxiie

Hey @siouxxiie!! I'll write a matchup for Inside job since I am not that good with South park😭

(I will not pair anyone up with Glenn💀)

I hope you enjoy this matchup tho! :D

(Not proof read!)

Your matchup is....

☆Brett Hand☆

My dude thinks ur style is SO COOL

Would tease you for your hight, but would apologize afterwards because he doesn't wanna hurt your feelings😭

Would spend time with each other by playing video games together.

Wants to listen to the music you make😭

He secretly did while you were gone (you caught him red-handed, obviously💀)

Whenever you make a sexual joke, he blushes (A LOT)

Kinda gets flustered easily

WILL TAKE YOU TO AMUSEMENT PARKS!!

Also, take you out for food😋

"Woah *Readers name* who is that?"

"UHHH-"

He eventually finds out about your Kaito obsession

He'd love to hear you rant about Kaito too!

Will buy you merch of Kaito

"Hey *readers' name* I bought you this, since you really seem to like Kaito and all"

"OMFG HOW MUCH DID IT COST?!"

"300 $ :D"

"BRETT!! D:)"

Would literally buy you anything

He will also take care of you very well since he loves you a lot😤

If there is a spider in the room you both freak out

Will just throw random things at it😭

If you think it's too noisy or there are a lot of loud sounds, he'd take you to a more quiet place so you could calm down

If you're willing to let him hug you, he'd just hug you until he couldn't anymore

Loves hugs, especially from you

Just tell him whenever you need a quiet place, he'll be right at your service

You have autism? He still loves you no matter what! He loves you and your personality and just generally you!!

Also, he loves being reassured!

Please give him some reassurance😭

Will melt in your touch

He loves you and will be there for you no matter what! :]

I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!! SORRY FOR MAKING IT SHORT😭☹️ HAVE a good day/night!! :D

#brett hand #brettsey #brett inside job #inside job #hsjdbdkfn #reagan ridley #idk what to write here #aaaaaaa #Brett #Yes

[iputthediscoindiscourse]

So because men want to fuck you now and because they “buy you food and other trinkets” you became a tradfem? I guess your mom’s grooming did work after all! I’m sure you guys can bond over that.This whole thing is so embarrassing and not because you’re “bi now” but because you have two very contradicting ideas trying to make them into one, you also clearly enjoy being objectified by men which is why people are calling you pathetic. “I just want to be a stay at home wife” yeah which you’re probably gonna settle down for a moid because “it’s easier to get men” right? Even tho you know how disgusting men are you still choose to be with them how is that not the most heterosexual behaviour? You should have just kept on living your life and kept it quiet 😂

Just like I said before you are a wuss and a coward saying this as an anon and you need a shitton of help to actually be a fully functioning member of society!!

So because men want to fuck you now and because they “buy you food and other trinkets” you became a tradfem?

First off, I never said anything about men wanting to fuck me in that response? You are literally sexualizing me which is making yourself look bad bro. Why do you assume that men do stuff for me and I swing that way? Like if you really want to know what made me go that way was studying Sharia(Islamic Law) and Halakha (Jewish Law) both in academia and with friends, made me realize that the religious culture I grew up in was fucked and that had no protections for women, and that there was a possibility of actually being religious and still having a loving partner and family life. Along with that, when I went off to college it was the first time in my life I actually met men that actually loved their wives and their children, they are actually excellent fathers, husbands and community members and it made me realize how fucked I grew up was. Like growing up, all of the men didn't really love their wives or their children at all and they boggled everyone done instead of helping them!! Like actually seeing people in love and having happy lives with marriage and child rearing is what made me go that way!! Like knowing the I can actually have a happy fulfilling relationship along with creating a family full of love laughter and happiness made me go this way!! Also I only let one man buy me trinkets cause of my trauma the rest of my fwbs and dates just buy me food lmao.

I guess your mom’s grooming did work after all! I’m sure you guys can bond over that.

You know my mother would throw a riot if she knew my dating history and knew I covered my hair right? Like she wanted me to marry a white Christian man, and not just any white Christian man but one that was similar to her religiously. Which I have never dated a Christian guy, I mostly date either non-religious, Jewish or Muslim guys. On top of that, I have dated a lot of Indian dudes along with Black guys and Pakistani dudes. Once in a blue moon do I date a white man anymore tbh. Also haven't talked to my mother in over 18 months and I don't plan to anytime soon tbh.

This whole thing is so embarrassing and not because you’re “bi now” but because you have two very contradicting ideas trying to make them into one, you also clearly enjoy being objectified by men which is why people are calling you pathetic.

Tradfem and Radfem are not that polar opposite that you make it out to be both modern (last twenty years ish) have been trying to answer the same question which is how to improve the conditions for women and people of the female sex. For radfems, they want to destroy the current order of things and build it from the ground up. While tradfems want to keep some of the natural order of things but tweak it here and there to benefit women. Like no offense but your views on tradfems are very bias and seem somewhat corrupted by what men want you to define them as lmao. Where did I say I like being objectified by men? Cause like if a man only sees me as a sex toy I cut him off instantly so like lol. If I am pathetic then I wonder what you are for sending such weird messages to me.

“I just want to be a stay at home wife” yeah which you’re probably gonna settle down for a moid because “it’s easier to get men” right?

love the wording here it make me laugh a little lol. Honestly if I met a woman who was my type and we could be compatible I am not opposed to marrying her tbh. Like I don't settle with it comes to my partners, there is a reason none of my relationships hit the six month mark and that is because I realize I deserve better and leave. Like I am not going to settle, I am not going to make the mistakes of my mother tbh.

Even tho you know how disgusting men are you still choose to be with them how is that not the most heterosexual behaviour?

Men as a class as disgusting, but some individual men are good and honestly I wouldn't mind settling down with one if I find what I want. You know there is more heterosexual men than wlws right? so the probability of me marrying a man is higher than me marrying a women. So like, I am just being brutally honest by the fact I am more likely to marry a man than a woman.

Also nice to know you are british based on how you spell behavior.

You should have just kept on living your life and kept it quiet 😂

I mean what is the fun in being quiet, sometimes starting a riot is fun. Besides as I said numerous times, we need many different people in this world or else she is boring.

#gabe.txt #answered #anon #hate messages #dating

[careless-with-your-heart]

The Air She Feeds Me is Damned (Barry AU FanFic) - Chapter Four

If you haven't read anything else so far, you can start here: LINKY LINK AT AO3 (Chapters 1-3)

Chapter Four:

Central Park is a bust. Barry meets with a short, balding man named Martin, who is so nervous that he’s sweating through the underarms and down the center chest of a season-inappropriate grey jogging set. The guy does want to pay to have someone offed—he tells Barry that someone has been following him, skulking around outside the bedroom window at night. Barry doesn’t really care about the details—much. He just wants to see if she will show.

Oh, and he wants to eat. Martin’s money will buy him the first full meal he’s had in almost three days.

“Who?” Barry asks, only half paying attention as he scans the murky underbrush around them, the dark hill rising at a gentle slope up behind Martin. The moon, full and heavy and looking as uncomfortable in the sky as Barry is in his worn sneakers, hangs just over Martin’s head. Barry wonders if it’ll drop right on top of the middle-aged financier, negating the need for Barry’s help—which would be just Barry’s luck.

“Mine,” Martin replies dumbly.

“What? No, not whose, as in whose bedroom window. I said who. Who is stalking you?”

Martin shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m sure I piss a lot of people off. I’m in stocks, right? I just want you to watch my place the next few nights, catch the guy, and make it look like he was coming at you on the street or somethin’, and you had to defend yourself.”

Barry shakes his head, feeling the telltale ache start to creep behind his eyes. His left leg starts to jimmy. “Nope. I don’t talk to cops, and your plan requires that I talk to cops. I can take the guy out, and I can do it so that no one knows it was me—or you. Unless the creeper is connected to you, somehow.”

It’s Martin’s turn to look uneasy.

“Fuck, dude, you know who it is?” Barry kicks at a patch of dead grass under his grubby sneaker, throwing up his hands. “I’m out, then. Have a nice night, and thanks for wasting my fucking time. I just wanted a fucking cheeseburger. Fuck.”

The ache in his orbital sockets is now a thrumming, throbbing, full-scale tsunami of pain. His stomach rolls with acid. Barry squints at the streetlamps as he turns away from Martin, yanking up the hood of his own seasonally-inappropriate hoodie, shoving his hands in the pockets of his ripped jeans. It’s summer now, but the winter will come, and Barry thinks of how he’s ill-prepared for the cold. The winter wind here is going to whistle right through the holes at his knees; as big as the tattered ones that exist in his heart. Thin, white strings holding on for dear life, just like the tenuous threads holding Barry together inside.

“Wait!”

And he does—Barry turns, like the fucking desperate creature he’s become. But he doesn’t crawl back. He stays where he is, several yards from Martin, and he takes a small measure of pride in making the older man scramble over to him.

“I wasn’t straight with ya, and I’m sorry. I don’t know who it is, but I probably know what it’s about.”

“The stalking,” Barry says.

“Yeah.” Sweat runs in almost comical rivulets down Martin’s forehead, making him blink furiously. “I skimmed some money at my job. I gamble, you know, and maybe it wasn’t the best move, but I had to put the money back so I didn’t get caught, right?”

Barry sets his jaw tightly, grinding his teeth against the migraine stabbing at him.

Martin fidgets. “So I borrowed the money from some less than—”

“The mob? You’re a fucking moron.”

“Yeah? Well, you ain’t got a wife, three kids, and an expensive fuckin’ girlfriend, do ya, pal?”

Barry’s chest pinches. “Nope.”

“So will you axe this broad tryin’ to ice me over a late payment, or what?”

The pinch releases, and Barry draws a lungful of sweltering night air. “What did you say?”

“I said the muscle is a damned woman, all in black like she’s a fuckin’ ninja or something. But I can see her tits under her shirt, so I know she’s a she. And no, she ain’t connected to me other than being a pain in my ass because I gotta avoi—”

A warm spray of red erupts from Martin’s throat, cutting off his tirade. Barry is giddy, even as he feels the bullet that lanced through Martin strike his left shoulder, tearing through the clothing there to lodge inside.

I know she’s a she.

She’s here.

Barry hits the pavement hard at the same time as the man who’d been standing in front of him. The headache is forgotten as pain blooms down from Barry’s shoulder, through his arm, making his fingers go numb. The muscles in the left side of his chest seize, and he bows up off of the hot concrete, his vision whiting out. He can’t even scream; his breath stutters behind his sternum.

Then, she’s there. His angel. She’s leaning over him, the streetlamp a halo behind her. She’s yanking down her gaiter. As his vision swims back into focus, Barry gets the impression of full, pale-pink lips, of wide, brown eyes. She seems much smaller, close up, than he imagined.

“Hi,” he gurgles dumbly, grinning.

“You stupid fuck,” she hisses. “We have two minutes to get the fuck out of here. So get your lanky ass up, now, unless you want your blood all over a crime scene.”

She’d said we.

“Yes, ma’am,” Barry says, already shock-drunk. He manages to curl himself up off the ground, swaying as he gets to his feet. His left arm is limp at his side, but there’s not much blood—it hasn’t even made it to the sleeve of his hoodie.

She flits away into an alcove of trees nearby, and Barry hesitates. “You mean we should—you want me to—”

She reappears, gaiter back in place.

“Follow me, idiot. I want my fucking slug back.”

Clutching his shoulder, Barry follows her into the dark.

#barry hbo #barry #hbo barry #barry berkman #au #in this au i will demonstrate... #barry is hopeless #like deeply messed up #but also soft and cinnabonn-y #time for some whump #mercenary feelings #original female character is the grumpy one #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 fanfic

[apocalypticvalraven]

terminology note- Tiffany Blue is the official name of the actual color. Semple named his knock off, literally, "Tiff*** Blue." Also, I tried to use British spelling whenever I was using his words but stuck to American spelling outside of that. I may have slipped up.

Got a marketing email from Culture Hustle (Stuart Semple's company) talking about a BoGo deal where you get Tiff*** Blue if you buy White 2.0. Supposedly because Semple got an email from Tiffany and Co. saying he needs to stop selling Tiff***.

And... his wording just doesn't sit right with me.

Like, ok, first of all, this is just a fucking marketing email, not Martin Luther's 97 Theses. It's not the Braveheart speech. It's not even St. Crispin's Day. It's a fucking marketing email trying to get people to buy his shit.

Does he have a broadly good and correct point about companies owning colors? Sure. But "colours that have been colonised by corporations?" Fucking please. Unless a company literally finds a particular color used by a specific culture and appropriates that color, to the point where they claim it is literally their color and theirs alone and they own it, it's not colonization. I'm not one for defending the IP of big corporations, but Tiffany Blue is not colonization. And Semple, who is, so far as I can tell, a white man, and I know for a fact is British, does not fucking get to just throw the word "colonised" around.

to say nothing of his role in creating a vocal hate mob against the Indian/Iraqi/Jewish Kapoor, even if Kapoor is also a dick

But also, lets be fucking real. Semple is not "democratizing" anything. He's not breaking the model of private ownership of colors. If a color is only available to one company, and another company manages to copy it and turn it into a usable product for people to buy, that color is still privately owned, it's just now the property of One Company and something you can buy from a scalper. People who hock tickets to shows aren't "democratizing" shows and breaking the "colonization" of tickets by Ticketmaster, they're dudes profiting off of a resource that the law arbitrarily says only one entity is legally allowed to profit from.

If Semple wanted to "Democratize color," he would be making the information needed to formulate these privately owned colors freely available. He could maybe have a leg to stand on if he was saying "ok, here's how to make this color, and you can do it with any paint, but if you want the easiest way to do it, here are a line of paints you can buy from me that are the exact formulation you need." He could sell Black X.0 and say "I can't democratize Vantablack yet, because the very method of creation and application is entirely the domain of specialized, expensive, high tech machinery, but I want to work towards democratizing it, and as part of that work, here is the blackest paint I've been able to make, and if you buy it, proceeds go towards my work to democratize Vantablack." If he wanted to democratize art, he would be providing a way for people who can't afford his not-inexpensive paints to get them. Like, bare minimum, a "buy a bottle for a starving artist" thing on the site where you pay for a paint and it gets sent to someone who signs up as too broke to afford it.

I have to admit, he has done some good, philanthropic work outside of the splashy "hey, I'm using this color that Big Corporate Suits say I can't!" stuff that gets talked about. Maybe some of the money he makes through Culture Hustle goes towards these kind of projects. But I do also want to point out that it's very Liberal Proper Charity shit. Like The Creative Therapies Fund he cofounded with the charity Mind, where a specific project gets some funding each year (disclaimer, I don't know the nitty gritty details, this is my impression of how it works). That's... not democratic. That's just patronage. It's better than nothing, sure, but it's not democratic.

Semple's model of activism and philanthropy is "raising awareness" and "create and support organizations that people can go to for help." Which is great. But as a Fat, Trans, Satanist, I'm not exactly about to trust that Organizations are going to actually deign to give me the help I need, and I would much rather be able to just get the physical resources I need to do my thing.

Is he a horrible person? I don't know. I don't know him as a person, but I would guess he's actually probably a good guy, all things told. But he's also clearly a bit of a dick, and doesn't necessarily think through the flamboyant shit he does (ie, the result of his beef with Kapoor), and he gets put on a pedestal as this, like, shining beacon of Free Art! And that pedestal needs to be knocked down, imo.

#Stuart Semple #Culture Hustle #Black 4.0 #Tiffany and Co #Tiffany Blue #Tiff*** Blue #Liberal Sacred Cows

[sauntering-down]

another small dream compliation

as usual, pulled from my discord chat with Mary...

had a dream where i was at some kind of huge school scavenger hunt at an event just called 'Fest'. the clues were extremely vague and confusing and i think we were supposed to be finding gems, but my team searched the entire massive library and couldn't find anything... also everyone had these little fabric "bombs" of colored powder you could throw at other teams to attack them and steal their gems, so we all looked like we'd just come from a Holi celebration or something... it wasn't too vivid but it WAS kinda cool lol

----

had an absolutely terrible dream. i was at my junior high and found out very suddenly we were going on a field trip, which seemed extremely weird as we were boarding the bus right after 12 and school ended at 2:15 iirc... but the bus only drove us down the street to this building in the woods. and that sounds super sinister but it was a planetarium of some kind?? couldn't tell you for sure as we never DID anything there, we were just turned loose in the gift shop lmfao. and this shop was 1. huge and 2. FULL OF COOL SPACE STUFF. like immediately when we went in this girl Jamie and i saw a white hoodie printed with stars and constellations and, for some reason, bears, and we went WANT, instantly started looking for one that'd fit. she finally found one that wasn't XXXXXXXXXS, but i did not... and then she and another girl made fun of me, so i was sad. also because i hadn't realized we had the trip, i didn't have much money with me. went wandering around looking at all this COOL SPACE STUFF - shirts and books and backpacks and posters and so much other stuff and i wanted Many Things, but i couldn't afford much and i was so disappointed about that hoodie... i walked around for so long and finally left without buying anything and everyone else was gone? there was no bus??? i was concerned.jpg but finally a bus came... apparently they'd left me behind and didn't realize until they got to school and had to send the bus back... which made me feel even better. sigh. terrible dream, truly.

----

k so. don't remember a good portion of my batshit insane dream - at the beginning there was some kind of war going on around me that i mostly ignored in favor of hanging around a dormitory and stalking some dude. and then i was at my old house, opening up my mom's SUV, and on the passenger side was a big box with a ginormous gun in it. this was apparently my birthday present, and i was inexplicably thrilled, spent a good few minutes messing around before deciding hey, maybe i shouldn't mess around with this bigass loaded rifle thing in the middle of my crowded suburb - at least until i know how to use it properly!! so i went searching for the instruction manual, which was also in the box but needed to be unlocked via my mp3 player. no, idk how that worked. anyway, i'm sitting there reading this manual next to the car when two people walk up. they're both carrying big cages with a MASSIVE cat in each one. the woman tells me these are two of the four cats my family is adopting tomorrow. i was unsure.jpg because we already had three cats and these fuckers looked terrifyingly large lmao, but i finally went and got my mom and she did the talking while i read lol. skip ahead to the next day, where i'm chilling in the house with my new siblings. that's right, folks, these cats were some wyrwulf bullshit who immediately aged up into four kids. i only really remember the second youngest one, a little redheaded girl named Janie (although my mom called her Jane).

i was singing songs and shit, trying to entertain these kids while my parents made dinner and that war from the beginning was going on outside. also told them a story and Janie made a comparison between one of the characters and MCU Loki - i was going to be like 'ehhhh no' lol but i thought about it and it actually made sense, so i told her that was clever. she was THRILLED and uh... bit my jaw? and shook her head like a puppy whilst still biting my jaw???? it didn't hurt but i went to my mom like "we might need to teach Janie some more appropriate ways of expressing excitement" lmfao. the end.

----

another dream i don't remember except for one tiny detail - i was wearing a zip-up hooded sweatshirt that started out sunset-hued at the bottom, all red and orange and gold, and then bled into dark blue as you went up until around chest-shoulder height where it was indigo/black and covered in stars... looked extremely fucking cool.

also remembered something else whilst i was out purchasing hot dogs... i was in a house with my dad and i was being stalked by this huge anthropomorphic rabbit. like a furry or a mall Easter Bunny gone horribly wrong - it was supposedly all rotting and deformed, but i don't remember getting a good look at it. i do know at one point i was sitting at a table eating some cereal in a rather dim room, and when i looked up and in the mirror on the wall i realized it was standing directly behind me. i freaked out and then told my father i hated that thing and didn't want to deal with it, and idk if this was actually some kinda horror game or my dad just figured out the console commands for real life, because he opened up a menu and unchecked a box and the bunny went away lmfao. anyway reminded me of our boy Cracker Barrel

----

right before i woke up i had a very vivid dream which i have unfortunately almost entirely forgotten. the bits i do remember are mostly nonsense - there were spaceships, there was some giant monster attacking, i had magic and was trying to fight the monster with my best friend Ron Weasley, one of my cats escaped the house, the Ninja Turtles might've been involved at one point... but i do remember the end which was really cool. so we defeated the monster (which may not have been the main antagonist, i think they were on one of the spaceships), mostly by realizing it was just a baby and throwing this huge metal ball around and accidentally killing people because it was trying to play. Ron and this weird frog creature called Tee and i played with it properly and lured it into a place where it could be safely captured, using some magic rune we made up and another Tee invented. idk. but it worked, we all won the battle, huzzah. move ahead into this big stone meeting hall where this group of magic-using warriors lived... the only detail i recall was these metal plates set into the wall with raised blue lines on them forming a different picture on each. as they studied magic, they would get these images tattooed on them to indicate they had mastered a certain school of study - some of the images were simple, others were fairly complex and tattooed in stages as the mage learned more. they'd all been using the same ones (and there were a couple hundred) for like a thousand years, no more had been approved in that long. but they'd finally decided to add two new ones, the one Ron and i made up (which looked sort of like a castle and was pretty complicated) and the one Tee made up (a simpler one-stage tattoo). so these pictures were 'stamped' on new metal plates in a magic fire, big ceremony, it was a huge deal and it was implied Ron and i were going to join their group. super cool. except...

the guy in charge of this organization, the one overseeing this huge mega not-performed-for-a-millennium ceremony, a solemn yet exciting event, this dude who was our wise mentor and leader, our Gandalf figure, who'd been severely injured at the start of this fight and was initially expected to die, but managed to recover... was Squidward.

#dream

[danielfuckingricciardo]

Before He Cheats - Daniel Ricciardo x Reader 

Pairing - Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Word count - 4.9k

Content warning - swearing (lots of), drinking (lots of), sex (lots of)

Synopsis - Reader caught her boyfriend cheating, but with Daniel Ricciardo out celebrating a win, it’s difficult to stay glum.

Author’s note - I started this at like half eleven, it’s three in the morning now but I was very determined to finish this. It’s very spicy, very touchy feely too if you like that sort of thing. Feel like it’s probably a medium on the Nando’s spice scale tbh, with mild being hand holding and extra hot being BDSM. Haven’t written straight smut in a while, so I’m a little rusty, forgive me. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Inspired by Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood

“A double whiskey on ice and an old fashioned please.” You shout to the bartender over the noise of the club. The man nods and busies himself with making your drink. You sigh and check your phone, sixty-six miscalls and 123 texts. Pathetic. You scoff and throw your phone back into your clutch bag as the bartender returns with your drinks. You throw back the whiskey and slam the glass back down on the counter. “Celebrating in style, huh?” The bartender asks. “Something like that, yeah” You respond, nodding your head at the bartender and heading out onto the floor of the club.

While you weren’t exactly feeling your best, you’d felt almost obliged to come along and join the party. It’s not often that your team gets a win, so when you do, boy do those McLaren guys know how to party. And they invite everyone, even you, the lowly social media intern. Everyone would have totally thought you to be a misery guts had you not at least showed your face, and while you were truly happy for Daniel and his win, your brain couldn’t help but be elsewhere right now.

You replay the events of today over and over again. You were excited for the race, so thought to send your boyfriend a cheeky little picture of you in your McLaren cap and not much else. He sends you a picture back, an innocent smiling face looking like he’d just woken up from a night of restful sleep. You tap the photo he sent, unaware it was a Live Photo, and the camera starts to move, and suddenly, some blonde girl is in the shot, in his bed, and her lipstick is on his neck, and- and- and.

You notice your fists are clenched tight, knuckles white at the thought of him in bed with her. You weren’t sad, you just felt like an idiot. People had warned you before that he was trouble, incapable of monogamy with a wandering eye and a tendency for dishonesty. You weren’t sad, you were angry to be taken for a fool. More angry than you’d ever been in your entire life.

You stomp across the floor, too wrapped up in your seething anger to notice anything around you, until you collide with a firm chest. “Ah fuck, sorry.” You say, focusing on trying to steady the liquid in your glass as to not spill a drop. “No worries.” The man says back. You look up immediately, realising you recognise that voice all too well. “Daniel! Congrats on the win dude, you must feel amazing after that performance today!” You shout, leaning towards his right ear slightly. “Yeah, thanks, yeah I do. It was a good one.” He laughs, leaning in to your left. “It was.” You say, taking a sip of your drink. “Didn’t have you pegged as an old fashioned kinda girl.” He says, flashing a brief smirk. “Right now I’d drink fucking surgical spirit if it was all that’s on offer.” You say, looking towards him and making eye contact for a second. “I don’t think it’s that kinda establishment, but how about tequila? No one else will do shots with me. They’re all boring as fuck.” He asks, placing his hand on your shoulder to guide you gently back towards the bar. “Tequila sounds good.” You say, “As long as you’re buying.” “You know it baby!” He shouts, and you laugh.

Daniel flags down the bartender and rattles off his order as you down the rest of your drink, savouring the final drops. You fish out the swirly orange peel from the bottom of the glass and place it in your mouth, sucking the flavour from the bitter skin as you pull it back out through your tightly pressed lips. You drop the discarded peel back into the glass and look up, to realise Daniel had been watching you the entire time. “Was what I just did extremely weird?” You ask, feeling yourself blushing immensely, but luckily the funky club lighting hiding it from sight. “Not extremely weird.” He says, letting out a small laugh. “So like… a little bit weird?” You ask. “Yeah, a little bit. But also-“ Daniel begins, but the bartender arrives, placing down six tequila shots and two old fashioneds. “Good luck” The bartender says, before dashing off down the bar to the sea of waving hands.

“To you, I suppose, for a fantastic race and a well-deserved win!” You shout, gesturing your first tequila shot towards him. “I can’t say no to that. To me!” he collides his first shot with yours, before downing it as you do the same. You both proceed to wince at the taste, but continue on, just slightly beating him to having the second glass emptied and on the bar. You throw the last one back and empty it, smashing it upside down on the counter with all the force you wish you could use to smash your ex’s head with. You look up, noticing Daniel has only just finished his third shot and grin smugly, jumping up and down in excitement. “Fucking hell, you’re a machine.” He laughs. “Tequila-bot 3000 is here to drink shots and, quite possibly, throw them back up later.” You say, before internally wincing at how fucking nerdy that made you sound. Shit. “As long as you don’t go all I-robot and start trying to murder me, we’re all good.” Daniel responds, clearly willing to entertain your nerdy conversation. “Feed me any more tequila and I might go into evil mode.” You say, grabbing your drink from the counter and taking a sip. “You wanna go sit somewhere?” Daniel asks, but his mind is already made up, as without a response from you, he has grabbed onto your wrist gently and begun to guide you gently away from the bar and towards the booths on the other side of the room. You follow him, weaving your way past your colleagues who are far to drunk to even notice just who your drinking partner is. You slide into the booth and sit opposite each other, and simultaneously take a sip of your beverages.

“When you bumped into me earlier, you seemed to be in another world.” He says, placing his glass down on the table. “Yeah, I guess.” You say, fiddling with your glass awkwardly in front of you. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asks. “My boyfriend-“ you begin, but stop yourself, “my ex-boyfriend. I caught him cheating this morning.” “Ah fuck, that’s so shit.” He says, offering you an apologetic look. “My fault really. When you take a man with a history of infidelity and make the relationship long distance, what should you really expect?” You laugh, before taking a decently large sip of your drink. “Fuck off, you did nothing wrong!” Daniel laughs, shaking his head at you. “True, true. He’s a cunt anyways. Fuck him.” You say, downing the rest of your drink. “Cheers to that.” Daniel adds, clinking his drink with your now empty glass and then emptying his own. “Another one?” You ask, and he quirks his eyebrow, “I’m buying?” He nods and you hop up from your seat and walk over towards the bar. You glance back at Daniel for a second, and swear you catch him looking at you too. Nah, he wouldn’t be. It’s just the drink playing tricks on you. You hadn’t realised till you stood up just how much you’d already had, but now your legs were swaying and your heels were just a teensy bit harder to walk in. You persisted forwards to the bar, where you bumped into your best friend and fellow intern. “Where’ve you been all night? I thought you wanted a drinking buddy to help drown your sorrows or whatever?” She says. “I found a drinking buddy while you were off dancing. You’re welcome to come join us though.” You say, as you catch the attention of the rather stressed looking bartender. “But you don’t know anyone? Who could you be drinking with?” She asks, and you gesture over to the booth in the corner where Daniel is sat, tapping his foot to the rhythm of the music, the two empty glasses with curly orange peels sat before him on the table. A group of men suddenly crowd him, probably to congratulate him for the race, and you lose his eyeline. “No fucking way!” She shouts, “I am totally coming to crash your little party.” “Go for it, bestie. It’s an open invite.” You say, just as the bartender returns with a tray of shots and some god-awful looking giant blue cocktail bowl. You nod to the bartender and begin your journey back to the table, you best friend following behind you with a margarita in each hand.

“Jesus fucking Christ what is that?” Daniel shouts as you place the tray on the table, pushing your way through the group of men who are now lingering at the corner of your booth. “No need to be so rude! This is Maisie, she’s an intern like me.” You scoff, feigning being hurt. “You know what I meant. The fucking blue soup thing.” He says, gesturing towards the beverage. “I watched him make it, and I’m pretty sure it’s like 90% vodka.” You say, sliding into the booth to take the centre spot, as Maisie slides in next to you. “I brought you a margarita, because everyone likes margaritas, right?” Maisie says, pushing the margarita towards Daniel. “Cheers, I like you a lot. You bought me an actual drink.” Daniel laughs, taking a sip of the margarita. “Hey!” You shout, and you’re not sure if its the drink or whatever else influencing you, but you give him a playful slap on the arm. He plays up that he’s injured, placing his hand to his head and sinking in his seat dramatically. “Oh just drink your blue shit, will you?” You say, popping a straw out of it’s paper wrapping and sticking it in the bowl, taking a big enough slurp to reduce the level of the liquid. Daniel grabs a straw and pops it in the liquid, and you narrow your eyes at him, before increasing your drinking speed. He catches on and does the same, until the two of you are left gasping for air and unable to take anymore. “Like a demented lady and the tramp.” You utter between deep breaths. “And I’m the lady,” Daniel adds, smirking. “Fuck you.” You laugh, letting your head fall back and hit the top of the booth seat.

After the blue beverage had been drunk, you had found yourself at the level of drunk where you were slightly crabby. A couple of other people from the paddock had joined you in the booth, causing you to be squished up against Daniel on one side and Maisie on the other. “Okay, truth or dare?” Your fellow intern Ed asks. “Do we ha-have to do this?” You hiccup. “It’s a rite of passage, (y/n)!” Maisie says, chasing the straw of her margarita around the glass with her lips. “Fine.” You sulk, “dare.” “I dare you to kiss someone at this table.” Ed says, giggling hysterically. “Well, I can only reach like two people.” You say, exasperatedly gesturing with your arms so you accidentally slap Daniel in the face. “Well, kiss one of them then!” Ed yells. You roll your eyes at him, before leaning in towards Maisie, only for her to place a finger to your puckered-up lips. “Not me. I’ve got a cold sore bestie.” She says, winking at you and gesturing behind you to Daniel. You mouth the words ‘fuck you’ to her, before turning your body in the other direction. “Pucker those lips bestie.” You say, before leaning in towards him.

Your intention was to just give him a quick peck on the lips, to save any awkwardness with Daniel as well as saving you from having to do a shot as forfeit of a dare. It was clear, once your lips had connected, that Daniel had other ideas. He immediately forces his tongue into your mouth, and while shocked, you reciprocate, somehow finding your hand on the side of his face to steady yourself into the kiss. Eventually you pull away to breathe, and almost forget that there’s an entire group of people watching you. “Damn, I thought the live sex show was in the next club over!” Ed laughs, and the rest of the group begin to laugh with him. You feel your cheeks heat up so give him a quick middle finger and a stern look. “Okay then, (y/n), pick someone.” Ed says, taking a drink of his cocktail. “Alright then.” You says, tapping your finger on your chin to ponder just who you were going to inflict your task upon. “No one’s picked Daniel yet!” Maisie shouts from behind her fourth margarita. “That’s true. Okay. Daniel.” You say, “Truth or dare?” “Hmm… Truth” He says, cocking his head and grinning at you expectantly. “Am I a good kisser?” You ask him, taking a sip of your drink and smirking around the straw. “Let’s just say it lived up to all my expectations.” He says, smirking straight back at you. “Expectations?” You question, “So, you’ve thought about kissing me before, then?” Your mouth seems to be saying the words without your brain even knowing, the drink clearly providing you with more confidence than you would ever normally have. “I answered your question, you’ll have to wait till later for my answer to that one.” He laughs. “Fair enough.” You say, “your turn then, and for fucks sake try and make this less awkward.” “(Y/n) truth or dare?” Daniel asks, smirking behind his glass. “I just had my turn!” You shout! “It’s an unorthodox move, but I’ll allow it.” Ed pipes in. “Go on then.” Daniel says, nodding towards you. “Alright. Dare.” “I dare you to go and sing karaoke right now.” He says. “You’re kidding me, right?” “Nope.” He says, popping the p. “I’ll just take the shot.” You respond, reaching towards the collection of shot glasses in the middle of the table, but before you can grab one, Ed steals all the glasses and downs each one. “Looks like there aren’t any shots left, bestie.” Maisie says, shrugging her shoulders and giving you a smug smile. “For fucks sakes.” You say, “I’m no pussy, let’s do it.” You say, grabbing Daniel’s glass from his hand and downing the entire thing. God you were gonna need all the drink you could get inside you to do this. You slide under the table and emerge at the other side of the booth, where you adjust your dress and gesture for everyone else to stand up. “Alright fuckers lets get this over with.”

You wander into the other room of the club, your drunk entourage following closely behind you. The room was brighter and much classier looking than where you had been previously, but it’s inhabitants were just as drunk, if not more so. A woman stood on the stage, belting out Bonnie Tyler’s ‘A Total Eclipse of the Heart’ at the top of her lungs. You settle against the bar, gesturing the bartender over and ordering another double whiskey. “Dutch courage?” Daniel asks as he slides himself in beside you at the bar. “Something like that, yeah.” You respond, grabbing the double whiskey on ice the bartender had just slid across the bar towards you. “Not too late to back out, (y/n)!” Ed shouts in a sing-songy tone. “I thought I didn’t have any option?” You ask him. “Oh yeah, too bad, good luck.” He says, his smug drunk smile all over your face.

The woman finishes the song and steps down off the stage to a chorus of drunk cheers and applause. You walk over to the stage, but then double back. “I never picked a song.” You say to the group. “I picked one for you.” Daniel says. “But what if I don’t know it?” “Oh, you’ll know it.” He laughs. And as the back in track begins, you hop up onto the stage and grab the microphone in one hand, your whiskey in the other. Oh boy do you know the song. You sway your hips to the tune, and immediately take to the lyrics, all building to the chorus.

‘I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive, Carved my name into his leather seats, I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights, I slashed a hole in all four tyres, Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats.’

You finish the song, and receive a round of applause and some very excitable whoops and cheers from your friends. “You were amazing, holy shit (y/n)!” Maisie shouts, jumping up and down excitedly and gripping you into a tight hug. “How was it?” Daniel asks. “You’ll have to wait till later for my answer to that one.” You respond, echoing his earlier words. You giggle and wink at him before finishing your drink, and placing the empty glass down on the bar. You turn to the rest of the group and exaggerate a yawn. “I think that’s me done for the night.” “Awwhh” Maisie sighs, looking down into her drink. “Gotta be up early tomorrow, remember! People to do, things to see, or, well, the other way around.” You wave your hand around, a perturbed look on your face, “Oh you know what I mean.” “You gonna be alright?” Daniel asks. “I’m quite capable of getting myself across the road to the hotel and up to my room, thank you very much.” You say, beginning to walk away and immediately tripping over your own foot, proving your point very much wrong. “Sure, pop princess. Whatever you say. I think i’mma follow you back all the same.” Daniel says, laughing at you. “Stalker much?” You say, as you head out of the door of the karaoke bar and onto the street.

You walk together in silence back to the hotel, until you reach the elevator. “Can I tell you a secret?” You say, leaning in slightly towards Daniel’s ear. “Shoot” “I pretended to fall over earlier, and i’m not actually tired.” You say, trying to stifle a giggle. “Sure, pop princess, whatever you say.” Daniel says sarcastically. “I mean it, you want me to recite the alphabet backwards while I walk in a straight line and touch my nose or whatever the fuck it is you’re supposed to do.” You say. “So, pop princess, why did you say and do all those things?” Daniel whispers in your ear, his voice low and his breath hot on your ear. “Because I hoped that you would follow me back to my hotel room, like the gentleman you are.” You say, turning your face in towards his, your noses practically touching. “You’re a crafty one, aren’t you?” He smirks. “Just a little bit, yeah.” You laugh, as the elevator beeps, and you jump, increasing the distance between the two of you.

You lead him towards your room and unlock the door, pulling him through it, slamming it, and then pushing him up against it. Your lips collide with passion, while one of your hands remains on his chest pushing him into the door, the other finds its way into his hair, curling and twisting through his soft locks. Hs hands find their way to your ass, which he squeezes roughly, causing a moan to escape your lips. He smirks at your response and you pull away. “Answer my question.” You say, dragging your hands down his body to the waistline of his trousers. You ease down the zip and palm him through his underwear. “What question would that be?” He responds in a breathy, deep voice. “You know the one.” You say, as you bend down to become eye-level with his waist. “Have I thought about kissing you before? That one?” He asks. “Yes” You exhale the word onto his exposed skin and he shudders. You dip your hand below the elastic of his underwear and set free his already erect cock. You stroke your hand gently along the bottom of the shaft, before looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Answer the question.” You say, finishing your order by licking his tip gently. “Only if you answer mine first.” He says. “Alright then” You say, before taking the tip of his cock on your mouth, moistening it with your saliva. “It was…” You pause to take him in your mouth again, hitting a point further down his shaft before removing him from your mouth. “Cathartic…” You say, taking him in your mouth again, licking a stripe along the bottom of his cock as you remove it from your mouth again, leaving it to rest against your warm, flushed cheek. Daniel groans at the loss of your warmth, his hips jutting towards you in want. “What else?” He asks between shallow breaths. “Freeing…” You utter, taking him in your mouth once more, this time reaching all the way to the base, his tip tickling your tonsils and almost triggering your gag reflex. “Ah, fuck, (y/n)” He groans. You place your hands on the exposed skin of his hips to steady him under your grasp, before you begin to move your head. You align your tongue with the bottom of his shaft, making sure to lick up to the tip every time you pull away. You do this multiple times, before pulling away completely, resting him against your cheek once again. “Now, are you going to answer my question?” You say, looking up at his flushed face, his eyelids fluttering in pleasure. You stand up and turn your back to him, taking a few steps towards the bed, before unfastening your dress and allowing it to fall to the ground. You step out of your heels and stop. He walks towards you, placing his hands on your hips and you melt into his touch, leaning your bare shoulders onto his clothed torso. “Lay on the bed, princess” he grunts into your ear, his hot breath like silk on your neck. You turn your head so your faces are almost touching. “I’m glad you dropped the ‘pop’, it’s sexier.” You laugh, turning around and pressing your lower half against him, your fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. He smirks, noticing your cue and removing his shirt, allowing you full access to his toned chest.

You throw yourself onto the bed with a giggle, pulling him with you as he tries to remove his shoes and trousers while still in your grip. The remaining clothing items are discarded to the floor, leaving him completely naked and you still in your underwear. You find yourself under him, his chest pressed to yours, as he works his way down your body, pressing hot kisses to every location he deems deserving until he reaches your core, hot and wet beneath your panties. “What the fuck are these doing here?” He says, his lips grazing the sopping fabric, before he loops his thumbs into the fabric and pulls them down. “Your answer, then?” You ask, raising your head to make eye contact with him. “I’ve thought about kissing you…” he begins, dipping his face towards your dripping cunt and skilfully licking between the folds. He raises his head, “every day…” he licks you again, and you make a sound so dirty it shocks you. “Since you first showed that pretty little face of yours.” He goes down on you again, this time lingering around your clit, gently toying with it with his tongue. You produce another pornographic moan. “Fuck that was filthy” he says, raising his head, placing one of his thumbs atop your clit which was aching for his touch. “I’ve never- I- I don’t-“ You stutter, unable to clearly form a sentence in your head. Your brain was flooded with feelings, sensations and pleasures the likes of which you’d never experienced before. And it was driving you wild. “Your ex was a fucking waste of space if he didn’t fuck you like this, princess.” Daniel speaks into you core, the vibrations and the gentle circling of his thumb on your clit sending you to a new level of pleasure.

A single, sudden, clear thought hits your mind, and you use all your strength to pull Daniel up towards you and flip him over, so that you’re now on top. “Show me how a real man does it.” You say, manipulating your body so that is erect cock is pressing against your entrance. Without a word, you allow him to fill you up, adjusting yourself to accommodate the sheer size of him. He sits up, wrapping his arms around your torso and resting his arms on your shoulder blades. “You okay?” He asks, his eyes searching for yours. You look at him, his flushed face and beads of sweat dripping from his curls on his forehead a beautiful enough sight to almost drive you to climax. “Fuck me.” You say, snaking your arms around his neck to provide yourself some balance as you lift yourself up off of him.

Your thrusts quickly synchronise, and the room is filled with the erotic sound of sex; a filthy collection of moans and curse words falling out of your mouths. You dig your nails into his back as he hits just the right spot, and he winces. You remove your hands from his back and look to him, but he nods at you and you immediately understand, placing your hands in exactly the same spot. And as he hits the right spot within you again and again, you dig your nails into his back deeper and deeper, far enough to draw blood, but his winces of pain quickly become moans of pleasure.

You feel your orgasm approaching swiftly, and press your sweaty forehead against his, your eyes closing, the only thing on your mind your impending release. You let out a collection of breathy moans, which you eventually realise are actually his name - ‘Daniel, Daniel, Daniel’ - repeated eternally by your sinful lips in an almost worshipful fashion. His thrusts up into you begin to become more sloppy, as he pulls you tighter into him, your head now tucked into the crook of his neck. “Fuck, I’m, fuck-“ he says, trying to string together a sentence. “I know.” You say breathily. “Me too.” And at that moment, you feel the most blissful eruption of orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life. Your walls tighten around Daniel as you ride out your seemingly never-ending orgasm, your ritualistic chanting of his name becoming louder - surely the neighbours could hear - but you didn’t care. In that moment, the entire bloody hotel complex could be watching you and you wouldn’t care. Right now, all that mattered in this universe was you and Daniel. “Fuck, princess” Daniel says, before hitting his release, and you feel his cum begin to fill you up inside.

Unable to hold the position any longer, the two of you collapse against the bedsheets, Daniel still inside of you. You bring your hand up to gently caress the side of his face, and he places his hand gently atop yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You smile at him, a genuine, beaming smile, and you realise, you’d never felt like this before after sex. You’d never wanted to just stay in the moment before, not with your ex, not with anyone else. No one else made you feel the way Daniel did. He pulls out of you, grabbing the sheets and wrapping them around the two of you. You move to cuddle yourself against him, and feel the sensation of his cum dripping out of you and down your thighs. “Truth or dare?” He asks, looking at you over the sheets. “Truth.” You say, rolling your eyes at him. “Am I better than your ex?” Daniel asks, his eyebrow quirked. “If that’s what sex is, then I don’t think me and my ex ever did it.” You say, shaking your head and trying to stifle your laughter. “Let me guess, ten minutes of missionary with the lights off and his socks on?” He asks, smiling brightly at you. “Spot on,” you say, fighting your way out of his grip, “Now if you don’t mind, I have to go pee.” You manage to escape the mess of arms and blankets holding you back, before tripping into the bathroom.

You sit there in the bathroom and can’t help but sit there grinning to yourself like an idiot. You think back to your karaoke song.

‘A- cause the next time that he cheats, Oh, you know that it won’t be on me’

#Daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagines #Daniel ricciardo x you #also here’s ur daily reminder to always pee after sex #Ur welcome

[lovetorn]

dream’s birthday bash [roommate!dream au]

Roommate!Dream x Reader

summary: it’s dream’s birthdayyyy!!!

warnings: alcohol, swearing

w/c: 2.9k+

a/n: happy birthday dream!! i’m in love w this. i hope u are too. also, there is a few references to past roommate!dream blurbs & one-shots, so i recommend reading those before you start this one or you may be a little confused at some things the characters say. thanks!! <3

roommate!dream masterlist

—

Dream’s birthday is something you haven't experienced yet since you moved in together in September last year.

Dream had promised the football team that his birthday party was going to be the biggest of the year, so you, being the party planner, had vowed to make it the best because Dream can’t organise—he disagreed and said that he only made you the party planner because he knows you’re good at it?? You gave him a confused look; you’ve never planned a party before.

Anyway, the 12th was approaching quicker than you anticipated and the only things you’d organised so far is the alcohol (thanks to George) and decorations. You had little notes on your phone with multiple checklists and you had yet to tick every last box off.

Organising food was probably the hardest thing. You knew that there were going to be around 100+ people squeezing into your apartment, drinking, so food is essential. You asked Dream what types of food he wanted, his reply?

“Chicken wings, not spicy.”

You rolled your lips between your teeth and nodded. Great. “Anything else? There’s gonna be a lot of people, Dream.”

He brought his fingers to rest on his lips as he thought about it. You knew when he got an idea because then he clicked his fingers and pointed at you. “Sandwiches. You know, like the little ones?”

Squinting at him, you sighed. “You think that’s going to be enough for more than 100 people?”

Dream nods. “Easy.”

You shake your head in disbelief and add sandwiches, along with other finger foods, to the list. “Thanks.”

Next to organise was Dream’s present. You spent days racking your brain, trying to figure out what he would want, eventually coming up with nothing.

So, you asked Sapnap, who was no help. “Fuck if I know, the man buys anything he wants himself these days.”

You rolled your eyes and took a trip to Target. Whilst there, you decided on an excess of small gag gifts: a Ron Swanson dishwasher magnet (so you and Dream can stop arguing over who put dirty dishes in with the clean ones), an engraved bottle opener, a ‘do not disturb sign for his bedroom door (chosen based on one too many run-ins), a Minecraft ice cube tray, a toothbrush holder (so both of your toothbrushes stop touching in the cup), and a pack of Minecraft socks.

You put the small presents into a gift bag, covering them with tissue paper, and then put in the final piece that wasn’t a joke gift—a mixtape of your and Dream’s favourite songs for his car. You brushed your thumb over the plastic case and let out a breathy laugh at the photo on the front—a selfie of the two of you in Dream's car, energy drinks in your hands and toothy grins with the text, ‘Dream & Y/n’s Gr8est Hits’ written in bright pink marker. You're excited to give it to him, but you're nervous and embarrassed, too—is it lame?

You shook your head and placed the bag in your closet.

George delivered the alcohol earlier in the day: 18 cases of beer and the same in White Claw, and a few bottles of vodka and rum for the close friends. You couldn't thank him enough for helping you, even more so after he helped put the covered trays of food in the refrigerator from the delivery truck downstairs.

You had (reluctantly) asked Sapnap to organise music because you had no time in between making sure the food order was correct and getting yourself ready. He agreed immediately and waved off your hesitance and told you he'd make the best playlist to ever exist—you put too much trust in him.

Before the party, you and Dream had taken a few shots together, just to get you to stop stressing over the planning of the party and Dream to stop worrying for you.

"Ready?" Dream smirked, his shot glass hanging loosely from his fingers. You nodded and then, at the same time, tapped the glass on the counter before you threw the shot back. The acetone taste of the vodka slid down your throats and you made disgusted faces at each other before a knock at the door indicated that your first guests were here.

Now, the party is in full swing and it's safe to say, there is definitely enough food.

When you see Sapnap at the food table, aka the kitchen counter, he thanks you for ordering non-spicy wings. You shake your head, laugh, and hug him tightly. "I'm serious," He mumbles with chicken in his mouth. "These are so~ good!"

The living room is cramped, but nobody seems to be complaining. Almost everyone from the apartment block is in your flat right now, with a few from other complexes. You lost sight of Dream a few hours ago, choosing to stay with your own friends while he hangs with his as the two groups don't usually mingle together.

“Niki!” You laugh whilst the girl finishes her second shot and passes the bottle of rum back to you. Shaking your head, you bring the large bottle to your lips, already regretting mixing different alcohols. You’d already had a few White Claws, thanks to Sapnap who kept challenging you to shotguns at the start.

Karl comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist before he snatches the bottle out of your hand and takes a swig.

“Karl!” Now, all three of you are laughing together. He slides his hand off of your stomach and stands to his full height, putting his lips to the White Claw can he holds in his other hand. You warn him about mixing alcohol, but he waves you off and assures you that he's fine.

The three of you stand on the dance floor, grooving to the beat of 'Super Freak' by Rick James. You grab Karl's hand to spin him around and then do the same to Niki, laughter filling the small space you have created in the middle of the crowd. You wouldn't admit it to Sapnap, but his playlist is actually good.

"Mi Amor!" The sound of Quackity's voice pulls you from your little group with Niki and Karl and you smile when you see his wide grin as he pushes past a few football players.

"Q! When did you get here? I didn't see you come in," You engulf him in a hug and giggle when he laughs loudly.

"I came in through the window," You pull back slightly to give him an incredulous look and shake your head. God, you are tipsy. "Nahhh, I had an exam, so I just got here."

You nod and feel the rum going straight to your head. Quackity then notices Karl and Niki behind you and gives them hugs too. You watch as your friends greet each other and turn to look at the clock on the wall in the kitchen. 10:33 pm.

“Guys, it's time for cake!” You shout over the music to Niki, Quackity and Karl and they smile and nod, all three of you migrating to the fridge to collect Dream’s cake and get it ready.

You pull a 3 layered vanilla cake out of the refrigerator. It is slathered in white icing and has rainbow sprinkles on the top with the words, ‘happy birthday dream’, in piped icing. Karl's mouth waters at the sight of the dessert and when he goes to get a dollop of icing from the side, you don’t smack his hand away—you have a plan.

Other guests see you preparing the candles and lighting them and turn off the lights for you. You smile at the 21 lit candles and pick up the cake, being careful not to trip on anything.

The entire room starts singing the ‘Happy Birthday’ anthem, their phones out to film as you spot Dream’s messy blonde hair over the crowd. He scrunches his face up in embarrassment and switches his beer from his right hand to his left to give you a side hug and a peck on the cheek when you approach him. The room sings and all attention is on him, but Dream only has eyes for you as you inch the cake closer so he can blow out his candles.

After he does so, the room erupts into cheers and then you give Dream a mischievous grin. There’s a little fear in his eyes and you launch the cake towards his face. Everybody laughs and hollers when you pull the cake stand away from him to see his face covered in white icing and rainbow sprinkles. Dream stands frozen for a moment, wiping his eyes with his free hand, before he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close to him, rubbing the icing in your hair and on your cheek.

“Dream!” You cackle, trying to push him off, but failing and eventually succumbing to his hold. The phone torches shine brightly at the two of you as people continue filming. His laughter is music to your ears.

Dream smiles down at you, eyes lazy and cheeks flushed. “Thank you,” He whispers. Your heart flutters in your chest and butterflies swarm your stomach as you nod. Everybody disperses and carries on with their previous antics, leaving you and Dream together.

“I got you a present, I’ll give it to you when everybody’s gone.”

The sentence makes the present seem more sensual than it actually is, and it makes Dream’s heart skip a beat—but he knows it’s not what he’s thinking. You pull away from Dream and wave back at him, knocking into a few people which elicits a laugh from him as he watches.

“Dude, you’re so fucked,” George says, smirking as he follows Dream’s gaze on you. Dream elbows George in the bicep.

“Fuck off.”

“Yeah bro, if you don’t make a move soon, someone else will,” Sapnap comments, coming up to stand on Dream’s other side. The urge to punch the both of them is strong, but instead, the blonde groans and skulls the rest of his beer as he loses sight of you in the crowd.

—

“Bye, guys! Thanks for coming!” Dream tries his best to look composed, but he’s so drunk. As soon as the door closes, he locks it and lets out a huge sigh. You come out of your room with the gift bag in your hands. Dream raises his eyebrows and attempts to give you a surprised look. “Wow, a present?”

You giggle and lead him to the couch. He flops down, throws his feet up and puts his hands behind his head. You sit next to him and shove the bag into his hands. “It’s not much, but you literally have everything already, so this is what I came up with.”

You hold your breath and you watch him pick through the bag. A smile breaks out on his face when he sees the CD. He flips it around to show you as if you haven’t seen it before and opens the case. “A mixtape? How romantic.”

The heat that rises to your cheeks is scolding and you stop yourself from choking. Dream, however, doesn’t look at you as he digs through and comments on every item. When he’s gone through every gift, he picks up the mixtape again and looks you dead in the eyes.

“This is the most thoughtful thing I’ve ever gotten for my birthday. Thank you, Y/n.”

You’re surprised. “The most thoughtful? It’s only a CD.”

Dream’s face contorts into one of confusion. “Only a CD? You made this for me with your own blood, sweat and tears.” You wouldn’t go that far.

“Oh, well, you’re welcome, I guess,” You laugh, reaching down to grasp his large hand. The action causes Dream to tilt his head and shift closer to you.

“Seriously, thank you. You mean so much to me,” He confesses, although you can barely hear it. You feel tears pricking your eyes as you watch him wipe his own. “Fuck, why am I getting emotional? It’s that fucking vodka, that’s why.”

“Don’t make up excuses, D,” You tease, squeezing his hand a few times. He wheezes lightly then sighs. His green eyes are so bright and there’s still a little smudge of icing on the side of his nose from the cake. You reach up and wipe it away, licking your thumb beforehand. Dream closes his eyes as you do so, biting his lip as you pull your hand away. 2:29 am.

“Okay, I think it’s time to get you to bed,” You mumble as you stand up, the moment broken. Dream nods, collecting his presents and chucking them all in the gift bag before he follows you to his room, a little disappointed.

Dream stands in the doorway and watches as you pull back his bed covers and turn on the lamp on his nightstand. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it. Goodnight,” You push past him before you turn. “I’ll have Gatorade and Advil ready for you in the morning, okay?”

Dream gives you a loving smile and nods, still holding the bag in front of him as he stands in the middle of his room. “Goodnight, Y/n, thanks for everything.”

You close the door behind you and when you get back to your room, you kick yourself for not making a move. You peel your clothes off of your body and throw them in the corner of the room, the space becoming too hot for your liking—maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the fact that it's summer, or maybe it's your utter embarrassment and regret; you don't bother to choose which one.

You flop down on your bed, half-naked, and stare at the ceiling. Why didn't you make a move? It was the perfect opportunity—

Your thoughts are forgotten when there's a soft knock on your bedroom door. You scramble to put some pyjamas on as you call, 'just a second!', and then you're swinging your door open.

Dream stands there in his sweatpants only. You resist the urge to rake your eyes down his torso.

"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" The question surprises you—of fucking course it surprises you! The only reason he comes to your room at night is to vent; not like this.

"Uh, yeah," You reply, cracking the door open just a tad wider so he can slip through. Once he's inside, you sigh in confusion and close your door quietly. Dream is already sorting out the bed situation behind you, throwing your hundreds of throw pillows onto the floor and lifting up your duvet so he can slip under.

You tilt your head at him when he looks at you expectantly—you assume he's waiting for you to get in bed, which you do.

You rest your head on your pillow and turn your head to look at Dream, who is already staring at you. Your skin is hot and your heart is in your throat when you see how green his eyes are in the warm glow of your lamp.

"What's up?" You whisper although you didn't mean for it to come out so low. Dream's eyes trace your face; your eyes, eyebrows, nose, freckles, lips. "Dream?"

He's silent for a while and you guess it's because he's trying to figure out his drunken thoughts. "I just wanted to be with you, you know," He says, his voice breaking slightly. You suck in a breath, turning onto your side so you face him. "You planned my party all by yourself and I'm so happy you did."

You don't have the heart to tell him that George and Sapnap helped you, he looks so content. "I'm so glad, Dreamy," Your voice is velvety, and you can't help the warm feeling blooming in your chest. Dream's eyes travel from your own to your lips and stay there.

“C’mere," Dream mumbles. You barely nod before you lean closer to him.

You can tell Dream is figuring out what to do by the way his lips part and then close suddenly a few times, so, for the second time this week, you take things into your own hands.

You scoot closer to him, your breaths mixing in the small space between your lips and his nose bumping yours. You were so close. But not close enough.

"Dream, I'm gonna do something crazy, okay? Don't hate me," Here goes nothing.

"I could never hate you, baby," Dream murmurs, adjusting his head on his pillow. The pet name goes straight to your head and throwing out any and all rational thoughts, you lean in and place your lips softly on his.

It takes him a few seconds to react and in those moments, you fear you've made a huge mistake, but when his hands find your hips and pull you impossibly closer, you're glad you kissed him—are kissing him.

This is nothing like wine night a few weeks ago.

Your hands find the back of his head and tug on his hair lightly, earning a throaty groan. The sound makes you clench your fists and pull a little harder. You move your lips across his jaw and towards his ear. "Happy Birthday, birthday boy," You whisper.

Dream lets out a breathy laugh and hugs you closer. His face presses into your neck and you feel him leaving feather-light kisses on your skin. The feeling makes you giddy.

"I'm one lucky birthday boy, aren't I?" He mutters, pecking your neck firmer now. You giggle softly, running your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.

"You bet your ass you are."

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[junghelioseok]

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

-

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

#hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #hoseok scenarios #jhope #jung hoseok #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #kpop scenarios #hoseok x you #strangers to lovers!au #strangers to lovers #lia writes #gonna change that stupid summary if i can think of anything better LOL #my brain went all mushy on me idk what's happening