#can’t say anything to your face ☕️

[whoreteen]

Hhu wanting you to ✨beg✨ like a good gurrrll

↳ pairings: hhu x reader ↳ wc: 2,5K. ↳ genre: smut with a dash of fluff, fwb!au, roommate!au, established relationship. ↳ content warnings: TEASING (lots and lots of it), unprotected sex, use of pet names, dumbification, orgasm denial, corruption, praise kink, slight degradation & dacryphilia if you squint your eyes lol [lmk if i missed anything]

a/n: i wrote short scenarios for the members based off my brain rot . Nothing Else 🤭 they’re all self indulgent sorry not sorry hsgdgs this is straight up filth ok brace yourselves &&’ hope you like it anonie ~_~ also this isn’t proofread oops

buy me a coffee? ☕️ | masterlist | feedback.

♡ 𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐋

— your innocence only makes him want to corrupt you more than he already has.

Seungcheol doesn’t know when or how it all started, but his brain is constantly filled with images of corrupting your every thought. He wants to hear you beg for him and have you know you only belong to him.

He’s fought countless thoughts with himself, blaming it all on your innocent nature that’s in contrast to his own dirty one, yet, he just can’t help taking the most innocent things that you do and making them seem so wrong and dirty.

He doesn’t care how he found himself in this predicament, truthfully, but fuck. You’re just so pure and inexperienced, so innocent — soaking yourself at the simplest of touches. He truly just can’t get enough.

“Fuck.. Cheol,” you choke out his name as he buries his face in your neck, stopping to nip and suck at the flesh there as you’re wrapped around him in every way.

You let out a whine and shiver slightly when his warm breath tickles his neck.

He looks up to admire your desperate state momentarily, bottom lip caught in his teeth before muttering a soft, “Yes, angel?”

His lips attaches to your neck again, leaving open mouthed kisses and light bite marks. The overly intense feeling of his soft, wet lips on your neck and thick cock buried deep inside of you is almost getting too much to bare.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, smirking ever so slightly, eyebrows raised in amusement. He damn well knows your answer already.

“Fuck— no, please, no,” you cry out pathetically as you roll your head into the pillows. “Please.”

“Please what?” he taunts. There’s nothing more he loves than your soft, tiny moans, he just wants you to be louder for him. “I got you baby, but you gotta— shit, you gotta tell me what you want.”

Looking up at with those lidded, slight glossy eyes that he swears he could get lost in, you nod. “P-please,” you moan, “fuck me harder.”

“Yeah?” he smirks, feeling his cock swell a bit more at your pleas, wanting it just as bad as you’re asking for it. “Beg for it.”

He gives you a particularly hard thrust and your voice turns into a squeak as you clench around him.

“Come on, baby, show me how much you want it. How much you want me to fuck you…”

“Cheollie, please,” you’re downright begging now, moaning his name against his lips as his strokes gets faster, the coil in the pit of your stomach tightening with each thrust. “Nggh oh my god, fuck—I want it so bad. Please don’t stop.”

You let out a whimper and when you look up at Seungcheol, you’re met with dark, lust blown pupils, and lips swollen red.

His mouth is half open as he lets out very low guttural grunts. “That’s my good girl, I always got you, baby. Are you close? ‘Wanna cum for me?”

♡ 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎

— you’re never one to dirty talk, but unfortunately he won’t fuck you properly unless you do.

“Fucking say it.”

Your tiny moans fill the room as Wonwoo starts slowly grinding inside of you languidly, causing friction between the two of you.

For some reason, your boyfriend gets off on the incoherent babbles that pour out of your mouth as he pounds his big cock inside of you. He just loves hearing you cry and beg for him, but more than anything, he loves seeing you in this state. You never know what to do with yourself whenever he fucks you, it’s almost like you’ve never felt pleasure like this before.

“I said say it,” he demands harshly.

You can’t help but whine and grind your hips up to meet his that have suddenly slowed to a stop.

One thing about Wonwoo is he HAS to hear how good he makes you feel; he wants to hear you beg, swear, use your manners and say ‘please’.

But more importantly, he wants you to tell him what you want.

Your only response is a drawn-out moan, lower lip caught between your teeth. At this point, you just want him to move. To give you what you so desperately want.

“Or I’ll stop,” he adds, earning another whimper from you as his strong hands grip your waist, stilling you with a firm grip. “Don’t test me.”

A low whine of his name escapes your lips and he feels his cock harden at the sight of your doe eyes, pouty lips, and messy hair. His mouth literally waters at the sight.

“Please… Wonu, I need you,” you finally plead. “Please, fuck me hard, make me cum,” you sob while hopelessly bucking your hips into his, yet to avail. “Please…”

You whine, eyes shut tight, “Y-you feel so good… inside me, nggh oh my god. So big.. I-I love it, fuck, so much.”

You’re so needy at this point and literally in the palm of Wonwoo’s hand, but your boyfriend isn’t someone to give in so easily.

If you really wanted it, you’d have to beg and work for it.

He slowly thrusts his hips up shallowly as he moans at the delicious drag of your wet heat.

“How bad do you want it, baby?” he smirks as he watches you tremble and clench around him from such minimal contact. “Hmm? Tell me.”

“S-so badly,” you plead. “I need it.”

“Oh yeah? What do you need, princess?” he teases sadistically, nipping at your bottom lip a little too harshly before licking over the sore spot in apology.

You try to avoid meeting Wonwoo’s eyes and he can’t help but smile lovingly, his dom presence almost disappearing. God, this side of you is just endlessly cute and he finds himself falling even harder for you, if that’s even possible.

He thrusts his hips slightly. “You gotta use your words. If you can’t even say what you need, maybe you don’t want it that bad,” he shrugs nonchalantly, withdrawing his cock the slightest bit, but you’re quick to wrap your legs around his waist tightly, to keep him in place.

“No, no, no!” you cry out, sounding so broken as you clench around him. “Please, you make me feel so good, I love how you feel inside of me— please, don’t stop.”

You’re almost crying at this point, tears slipping down your face, and god did Wonwoo love seeing you beg.

“You’re so cute, baby girl, so fucking adorable,” he confesses as he begins thrusting into you, his pace fast and merciless, until you’re a mess of incoherent words, finally giving you what you want. “Do you know that? You’re so beautiful, such a pretty mess, and it’s all for me, right? Fuck, I love you so much… my good girl.”

♡ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘𝐔

— he realizes the sound of your desperate moans are more enough to send him over the edge.

You moan, sobbing quietly as you try to muffle the desperate sounds of pleasure you’re letting out behind your hand, too focused on the way he thrusts himself deep inside you.

“C’mon baby,” he coos lightly. “I know you wanna be good, for me, don’t you?”

His hips slows to an agonizing slow grind against yours and you nod vigorously. “Exactly, now take your hand off your mouth. For me.”

You do as you’re told. He tightens the grip around your neck just a little before his forehead presses against yours. “Wanna, fuck, hear those pretty little noises you make.”

You feel the loud gasp you let out cut through the already stuffy room and it only takes a few seconds before you stop fighting the urge to push yourself against him, kissing him sloppily.

Mingyu moans into the kiss and presses his lips harder against yours, swallowing each of your delicious moans. Truthfully, there’s nothing more he loves than hearing your moans, but as always, he really needs you to be louder for him. Like, he feels like if he doesn’t hear your loud moans, he might die. That’s how bad it is…

“Gyu…” you whimper. “I— fuck, oh my god yes, just like that… Feel so full.”

To him, your moans and sounds of pleasure is music to his ears, something he wants to hear over and over again.

All of this started with you drunkenly hooking up with your roommate, Mingyu once, and since then, you’ve been casually ‘hanging out���. You’ve had many pillow talks at first which involved conversations about what you’re both into and not into as well as rules to keep things from getting, well, messy.

Surely, the ‘no feelings’ and ‘no strings’ rules were the most important things in your relationship, but Mingyu had broken them way before he knew they even existed.

He fell for you the first time you had sex, and at this point, he’s too far gone to even think about refusing you anything you want. If quick hookups is what you want from him, and still be his friend, then he can do that.

Little does he know, you feel the exact same way.

Mingyu lazily licks his lips and raises an eyebrow at the desperate whines of plea that escapes your mouth as you buck your hips into his.

“I know you can take it,” he pants, the way he’s speaking makes your head spin as he gradually picks up his pace. You feel him deliver a particularly rough thrust that manages to hit that soft spot inside of you as you force your grip on him to tighten and your eyes to snap shut.

You try to open your mouth to say something, but all you can produce are silent gasps and broken whimpers of his name as he thrusts his hips into you.

“Fuck, baby. Show me you’re a good girl.”

Your eyes roll back into your head, he’s got you just where he wants you. “Mingyu, oh my god, right there!”

He continues to thrust his hips hard and deep, your tight walls tightening around him as your loud moans loudly resounds in the empty room.

“Yeah?” He places one of your legs over his shoulder as his pace quickens, a choked moan falling from your lips at the feeling. “Tell me how good I make you feel. Want you to feel good for me.”

“S-so good, fuck. ‘Gonna cum.”

Mingyu thrusts forward, loosening his grip on your waist until his cock is fully sheathed inside your gspot before he suddenly stills his hips. “Wanna cum? Yeah? Beg for it like a good girl, then.”

♡ 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐋

— he wants you to fuck you so good to the point you won’t be able to think about anyone or anything else.

Vernon is tugging your bottom lip with his teeth before he pulls away and you hear a soft, “Fuck, you’re so pretty… so gorgeous, it’s killing me,” dance over your ear.

You let a high-pitched moan escape your lips and his hips slow to a deep grind as he appreciates how wet you get just from him spilling out a few words, how you crumble beneath him before he even pushes his dick fully inside of you.

“My good girl… Taking it all in like the beautiful slut you are, hmm?” he coos. “Just for me?”

“Fuck, it feel so good I’m so— oh my god, so close.”

“Say my name,” he commands in a low voice, running his large hands beneath your body, groping a handful of tits. “Wanna hear you moan my name.”

The thing about Vernon though, is that he gets off on stuff like this. You’ve been friends with benefits for a while and, the amount of times he’s fucked his hand to the thought of you moaning his name? Countless. The way you whimper his name? Fuck, he’s on cloud nine.

“Hansol— oh my god, fuck!” you cry faintly, your entire body trembling as he tilts his mouth to your ear and whispers obscene delights. “It feels so good, please don’t stop— god, please.”

Vernon firmly grips your throat the second you moan his name, grinding his cock as deep as he can penetrate you, stretching you to accept his size. You feel your inner muscles strangling him and close your eyes.

“No, no, no. Don’t close them baby,” he demands, his soft voice holding a certain degree of authority that instantly makes you stop in your tracks. “Wanna see your face…”

You open your eyes to look into his gorgeous ones and he thinks he might explode, the eye contact alone is enough to nearly send him over the edge.

“I want your eyes on me, can you do that for me, baby girl?” he asks, his voice just above a whisper, moaning at the wrecked look in your eyes.

The next move you make is giving him a kiss that’s much softer and sweeter, a gentle one, right before he says, “I promise I’ll make you feel good, trust me.”

In all honestly, you don’t need to hear it. You already know he will, just like he always does.

“Sollie— god, fuck! Feels so good. Fuccck— so big….”

“Oh yeah?” he says, entertaining your little rant.

Continuing to rut against his hips, you feel yourself forgetting how to breathe as you stare in awe at Hansol who’s voice is getting breathy and fucked out.

You squirm underneath him, closing your eyes.

“Look at me baby,” he says. “Open your eyes.”

You look up at the pretty boy on top of you, beads of sweat running from his collarbone over his perky chest. He looks so fucking hot, all blissed out and fucking you as hard as he can.

“There she is…” he grunts, “My good fucking girl. Keep those pretty eyes on me, okay?”

You can’t help but nod, moving against his hips and moaning his name continuously as you try your best to get more friction. Your chanting stops for a minute but your best friend’s hips hasn’t stopped, still buried deep inside you.

“I-I need words, baby, wanna hear you beg,” he moans. “You look so pretty, all flushed… Shit, you’re so beautiful.”

“Fuck— there you go baby, that’s my good girl. Always so good for me…” Vernon whispers against your lips as his hips slow to a deep grind, crashing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss. “You’re doing so well for me. Taking me so fucking well, like always, huh?”

if you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving feedback! love hearing you guys’ thoughts! my reqs are open for now, so if you want anything written, lmk 🤍

#seventeen smut #svt smut #scoups smut #seungcheol smut #wonwoo smut #mingyu smut #vernon smut #choi seungcheol smut #jeon wonwoo smut #kim mingyu smut #chwe hansol smut #seventeen scenarios

[liv3laughlev]

BABY? BABY!! // ★.⁗☕️⚬☆

content warnings: nsfw, fem & afab reader, hubby!toji, reader is written to have hair long enough to be played with and pushed away, breeding kink, creampie, toji has baby fever, rough sex

author’s note: thank you guys for the support on my first post i hope you guys like this one too :D

masterlist !!

toji never really wanted children, for the most part, he actually disliked them. they were loud and sticky and honestly more expensive to take care of than anything. but today you had agreed to watch your nephew, who was only just a few months old.

you would carry him all over the house, spoiling him rotten with affection. and when toji came home from a long day of work he was a little surprised to hear the sound of a baby giggling while you tickled him.

“what’s this about?” he asked as he sat on the couch, observing the smile you had on your face as you played with your nephew.

“i’m watching him because my sister had to go to work early and her husband couldn’t watch him since he also had work!” you said with a sweet smile as you looked up at him from the floor.

“alright..” he sighed as he sat back, just deciding to observe you.

he noticed how you were basically glowing while playing with your nephew, the sweetest smile on your face. it had him thinking— what would it be like if the two of you had your own kid? he was stuck thinking about what it’d be like all evening until your sister came to pick up her son.

now alone with you he was watching tv with you, his arm wrapped around you while you were snuggled up next to him.

he wanted to say something about earlier, no- needed to. but to be honest we wasn’t sure you’d be into the idea. having kids is such a big step. there’s no guarantee you two won’t regret it down the line. but it was now or never.

“babe?” he spoke up, playing with your hair a little.

“yes?” you asked sweetly, tracing your finger on his stomach some.

toji struggled to figure out how to word what he wanted, which wasn’t often so this was a little nerve wracking for him. “fuck it..” he murmured. “i wanna give you my baby.” he spoke.

your eyes widened a little. “do you mean.. you wanna have one with me?” you asked, biting your lip a little. you had been wanting this basically since the two of you got married a year ago, and part of you didn’t believe this was actually happening.

“yeah.. saw you with that kid and honestly it made me realize it.. do you want that too?” he asked, pushing your hair out of your face some. the nod you gave him was all the confirmation he needed.

“oh fuck!” you whimpered as he had you bouncing on his cock— his cock was reaching deep inside you, his hands gripping onto your hips while he fucked you. you couldn’t even think at this point, hands reaching behind to grasp onto his arms.

“that’s it, baby.. keep bouncing like that..” he groaned, eyes glued to the way you would grind back against him. he couldn’t even think straight either at this point, the only thing in his mind is his determination to get you knocked up.

“toji.. ‘m getting tired..” you whined, your thighs burning a little from riding him. you had probably came already twice and he hadn’t came once, and he planned to dump a couple loads inside you.

toji smirked and didn’t hesitate to bend you over in front of him completely, your ass up while he pushed your face down a little. you cried out in pleasure when his cock bullied deeper inside you. “that better, baby?” he teased, giving your ass a nice slap before his hands rested on your hips while he fucked you so well from behind.

“f-fuuck..” you whined out, your eyes rolling back ever so slightly. “please.. need it.. i need it.. can’t handle it much longer..” you rambled while you felt his hand reach down to toy with your clit, his thumb rubbing it in tight circles.

“i knoww baby.. just a little longer..” he chuckled, “i’m gonna cum soon.. gonna dump it all in that pretty pussy of yours..” he moaned, his eyes taking every reaction you had to what he did.

you nodded desperately, your moans getting a little sharp as you neared another orgasm. “please.. yes please..” you whimpered.

toji groaned as he heard you begging for him. he felt the urge to rest his head back but he wanted to see you as you came more than anything. he loved the way your body shook, your voice suddenly high as you squirmed under him. you gasped, your hands searching for something to hold onto as you finally came. toji nearly lost it as he felt the snug feeling your cunt gave his cock, and he didn’t hesitate to slam his hips against yours one more time before his cum spurt deep inside you.

you two took a minute or two to catch your breath, and toji gently pulled out of you. he watched the way his cum slowly seeped from your pussy, feeling his cock stir right back to life.

he kept you in bed for at least two hours after that to fuck you more, but it definitely paid off because a few weeks later you showed him your positive pregnancy test.

#lev.com☁️ #dividers by cafekitsune #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji x reader smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut #toji jjk smut #smut #toji fushiguro jjk smut

[nmjoo-n]

FADE INTO YOU ☕️ jeon jungkook.

pair. barista! jungkook x f. reader | genre. friends with benefits, romance, jealousy, angst | warnings. possessiveness, profanity, pet names, unprotected sex, slight toxic behavior, degradation kink, zenophilia, oral sex, edging, spit kink, exhibitionism, smoking | word count. 4.7k

synopsis. “oh angel, for how fucking adorable you are, you sure don’t use that pretty little brain of yours much,” or jungkook has no limits when it comes to you. you’re his, he’s gonna get it through your head, eventually.

You dared bring another fucking guy in his work place.

Was it deliberate? God knows you love your little fucking mind games, especially if Jungkook’s on the receiving end. Oh, he was beyond furious. He had half a mind o spit in the fuckers coffee and smugly watch as he drinks that shit, completely unaware as he desperately tries to shove his tongue down your throat after that, one date in.

But you’d know. You were always better at reading him, deciphering the different expressions on his face. He ought to bruise your fucking ass for this, spank you till you’re dripping wet for him, and then shove his cock in your mouth, facefuck you until your stupid hole is sore, and your cunt is clenching for no one but him.

What a pathetic loser. What the fuck did you see in this clown?

“Dude, you’re shaking. You okay?” Jimin nudges him with his elbow, raising a questioning eyebrow, black hair falling in his curious eyes.

Jungkook shakes his head, and removes his apron angrily, grabbing his pack of cigarettes and phone with him. He knows he’s being unreasonable; you’re single, and beautiful, God so fucking beautiful it physically hurts him, and he’s just the lucky guy that gets to fuck you whenever you’re up for it, nothing more, nothing less. A supporting character. Fuck, he knows. But his feelings are for him, they’re private, and right now they’re out of fucking control.

The urge to punch your date in the throat is driving him up a wall. He needs to get the fuck away from here—away from you and your innocent, ignorant ways. Deep breaths, deep fucking breaths Jeon, she hasn’t fucked him yet, and don’t you dare picture that, don’t be a fucking dick, walk away, walk away now.

“I’m going on break,” he announces, but he’s already on the other side of the counter, going for the door, hands busy with the lighter you gifted him on his birthday.

You’ve said your hello’s, you exchanged the necessary, polite words you do every time you see each other in public so there’s nothing else to say. He doesn’t look at you as he passes by, can’t bear to. There’s nothing else you could possibly want with him, not unless it’s after hours, behind closed bedroom doors. Or bathroom ones—or rooftops, staircases, couches, balconies, the beach that one time, his car, the steering wheel digging into your lower back, just last week—no.

Not fucking going there.

Sitting on the ledge right outside the shop, he puts the cig in his mouth, bringing that silver lighter close to it, lighting the edge of it. Taking an inhale of the stick between his fingers, he feels the harmful calm it produces overtake him for the first time that day. He needed nicotine like he needed your pussy pressed against his face, especially since you walked in with that lame looking motherfucker after you told him you’d call.

You never did.

Jungkook doesn’t want to be this way; he never used to curse this much, smoke this much, not before he met you. You’ve tested him in every possible way a man can be tested, have haunted his every waking thought, have wrapped him around your pretty fucking finger and are twirling him around in a never ending, whiplash inducing dance out of which there’s no escape. He’d do anything for you, be anything for you, god he already has, but you couldn’t care less. There was no love in you for him—not the kind he has for you.

Trust him, he wishes he could cut all ties with you, forget you. Stop loving you so goddamn much. But there’s no button for that, no way he can get out of his own body, discard his heart.

Goddamn him, his fucking dick is hard just with the proximity of you. Knowing you were near, having smelled your perfume earlier, the sweetness of your scent mixed with vanilla and something floral, something he’s only smelled on you, and that cursed mini skirt, fuck him, with those legs of yours… legs he’s had wrapped around his torso, over his shoulders, legs he’s kissed a thousand times over, has run his hands over, has worshipped.

No, you couldn’t do this to him. This is the last time you fuck him over, the last time he lets you—he’s going to put you in your fucking place, he decides. He’s going to have to show you who’s been there for you, who fucks you dumb, senseless—who’s cock you’ve been screaming for over and over again, who’s cum you’re craving down your throat almost every night.

Who you belong to. Because fuck anyone that dares so much as think they can have you. You’re his. He just has to get it through that thick head of yours, once and for all. Before he goes fucking insane.

Finishing his smoke, he ties his hair back and away from his face, getting off your Instagram page at once. Look at him, obsessing over your whereabouts, the tags on your pictures, who you’re with when he’s not with you. In you. Fucking ridiculous.

He goes to your last text conversation, a curt message from you two days ago at three in the morning. His eyes skim over it, reading it in your drunk voice, that delicious slur of your tongue, the way you must’ve slowly blinked at his texting you so late in the night. He wants you to think of him always, all goddamn day. As much as he does.

He wants you as obsessed as him.

[03:21am] just came home.

[03:22am] it’s late (y/n). go to sleep.

He decides to text you, then. Make sure you know he’s not going to let this go, that you’re taking it too far coming there, dressed like that, and with another man when his seed is still inside of you.

[19:07pm] is this my replacement? disappointed in you sweetheart.

If Jungkook’s good at anything—he knows how to get a good rise out of you. All that’s left is to sit patiently and wait. You’ll come to him, eventually. You always do.

A half an hour later, you’re standing in front of him, manicured nails digging into your crossed arms in barely contained anger.

He wipes his hands with a rug, giving Jimin the drinks he’d just made, completely ignoring your thunderous glaring. He feels those eyes pierce through his soul, though. How can he not—he’s never been very good at pretending, and God knows you demand all of his attention.

“Replacement? Really, Jungkook?”

Jimin looks between the two of you, sensing the tension. He’s always suspected there’s something going on, but that just confirmed it. Failing to hide his smirk, he balances the tray in one palm and fucks off to the last remaining table for the day.

“Am I wrong?” Jungkook stares at your mouth, the dark stain of your lips, the curve of your jaw, those ample cheeks of yours—you’ve such a cute fuckable face, it’s one of his worst weaknesses.

He can never stay mad at you for long.

“You are.”

“My apologies, angel.”

The sarcasm doesn’t escape you.

You sigh, leaning against the counter, extending both hands towards him. He blinks at them, his own morphing into fists at his sides. He wouldn’t cave in, not this time. You needed to be taught a lesson. You needed to stop refusing him, treating him like second choice.

“Can we talk about this later?” You say in that velvet voice of yours, the one that never fails to hypnotize him into submission. “He’s waiting for me outside.”

Jungkook let’s out a dry laugh, nodding his head bitterly at your words. There’s no magic behind them today, no spell. “We wouldn’t want him to wait,” he deadpans.

“Jungkook.”

“(Y/N).”

You huff, and remove yourself from the bar completely. His body instinctively moves closer, but his mind is set. A terrible fucking jealousy is eating him alive, setting him aflame.

“You’re acting childish.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not the one two-timing people,” he retorts as calmly as possible, wanting to hurt you a little. Nothing like how you’ve hurt him. “Does he know how filthy you like getting fucked? How there’s another man that knows his way around your body like the palm of his fucking hand?”

You step back, face betraying guilt. “Stop it.”

He shrugs, and winks at you, proud of himself. “It’s the truth, angel. Don’t bring him into this if you don’t want him getting hurt.”

“You’re such an asshole, Jeon Jungkook,” you snapped, eyes glittering with tears. Jungkook looked away at once, his jaw clenching in annoyance.

Are you really taking that fuckers side? How long have you known him? Maybe a fucking week, if he had to guess. Jungkook has had you for years.

“Don’t ruin this for me,” you demanded, stomping your foot like a little kid.

Jimin had returned to his post next to his friend, and was witnessing your amusing temper tantrum. He also noticed the younger man’s struggle, the effort it took to stay put in that place of his.

“Ruin?” He mused over the word out loud, then laughed wholeheartedly, with his entire chest. It was an empty sound, a patronizing thing. “If you want to go with him, be my fucking guest baby girl. But if you do,” he warns, forearm resting on the wood in front of him. “you better forget about me. I’m not fucking sharing you.”

You stood hurt, a sour expression curving those perfect lips downwards, weighing your options. This was the moment Jungkook would finally see if you truly thought anything of him, if he mattered enough for you. Or at least if he was more important than a random guy you picked off a club. And God he hoped, for your sake, you picked him. Otherwise he would not be responsible for the Hell he’d give you afterwards.

Who he’d become if you dropped him. He’s scared of himself.

“What’s it going to be?” He presses, pinning you in place with those dark orbs. “Don’t make me become someone I don’t want to be, honey. You and I both know you’ll regret it.”

“Fuck you.”

Jungkook smiles at you, all charm and danger. “It’d be my pleasure.”

When you sulkily sit on the bar stool, and start typing on your phone, your decision sets in him. You chose him. His chest swells, his cock straining against his pants. He’d take you right then and there if he could; lift you on top of the counter, and fuck into you until all you know is his name, until all other men pale in comparison to him. What he does instead—he pulls your face in for a bruising kiss, his big hand cupping your jaw tightly, his tongue forcing your lips open.

“Get a room, Jesus,” he hears Jimin mutter, but he could give less of a fuck. He’s waited way too long for this. Let them watch, I know how to put on a fucking show.

You melt under his touch, letting him consume you. He growls low, and bites down on your bottom lip. You moan, and everything blurs—you’re alone. He craves nothing but you, needs to have you before insanity renders him incapable of fucking you properly.

“I’m getting off early,” he hesitantly pulls back and slaps Jimin’s chest, apron coming off in a blink of an eye.

“Sure, yeah, cause you can do that,” his friend sarcastically replies, but lets him go anyway.

“Don’t be too mad at him,” you add, smiling sweetly. Jimin smiles back, can’t help it. Jungkook glares, messenger bag over his shoulder, and jumps over the wooden top in one swift move.

“Stop fucking staring, Park,” he wraps an arm around your waist protectively, and takes you away. “I’m off!”

You barely made it to the car, before Jungkook turned you around, locking you between the passenger door and his muscled chest. His knee pushed between your legs, your hands on his sides squeezing the skin there. His head dipped to your ear, voice soothing you open, receptive. When his fingers disappeared beneath your skirt, a gasp tore through your throat, goosebumps rising on your skin.

You wanted him too, your pussy told him so. Your panties were all creamed up, thighs begging to be rubbed together to provide any sort of friction. He gave it to you, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your clit. You were throbbing—fuck how much he loved this.

“Tell me baby girl, were you going to keep him around for me to watch while you get fucked? You know you only have to ask,” he whispered, teasing you with those long fucking fingers of his.

In plain sight, for everyone to see. Christ.

“Like Hell you would,” you retort, breathless. “You’re a selfish man, Jungkook.”

He smirks at that, clicks his tongue against his teeth, and chuckles darkly. “You’re right on that,” he pulls you on him and rubs his erection against your clothed cunt. “Can’t let no one touch what is mine.”

“I’m not yours.” A weak remark, as your hips moved with his. He ignored it entirely.

He saw your naked neck, the way you swallowed, and attacked the sensitive skin there, grazing it with his teeth, sucking harshly on it. You hissed at the sensation, yet wanted more. What a contradiction of a woman, Jungkook thought, pulling me in but pushing me away. Unfortunately, for what he was planning on doing to you, he couldn’t be seen.

“Oh, but you are,” he whispers against your cheek, cuffing both of your wrists in one hand behind your back, slowly opening the car door for you to get in. “Oh angel, for how fucking adorable you are, you sure don’t use that pretty little brain of yours much.”

He lowered his head to be on eye level with you. He couldn’t possibly make it any clearer, not unless he bought a ring and put some babies in you.

“I own you.”

Your eyes told him so. The musk on his fingers guaranteed it. He smacked the door shut, licking your juices clean off. You tasted like fucking paradise.

He’d fucking destroy you.

Jungkook loved your neck, how easily it could turn purple, how perfect his hand fit around it, almost like it was made for him. He wouldn’t doubt it for a fucking second—the rest of you molded all over him, every nook and cranny.

Lifting you up the kitchen table, he felt like taking you raw, just like that; pushing your skirt up and burying himself in your folds. His thumb hooked between your lips, pressed down to open your mouth, your gaze following his movements closely. Pudding in his hands, to do whatever he pleased. Every time.

“Look at my little slut,” he admired, pushing his thumb in his second favorite hole of yours. “Suck, baby, show me what that mouth does best.” You did, your tongue swiping all around, over and under, wetting and sucking dry, repeating again and again, until Jungkook was satisfied.

He never was. If he could, he’d fucking snort you up, have you run through his bloodstream for the rest of time. His perfect fucking girl, the one that refuses to give into him, the one that drives him mad.

“Are you thinking about him?” He asks you, the same jealousy nibbling at him. It never left—it never leaves. “How his fingers taste, how they’d curl inside that cunt of yours? It’s fucking morphine, did you know, sweetheart? Why do you think you got me on my knees for you?”

He removes his digit, and decides playtime is over. He’s been lenient enough. You notice exactly when the change takes place, when his eyes darken, and your breathing quickens, fear replacing exhilaration. This was the cruel man that could make you come just with his filthy words. As much as you fucking loved it, he was ruthless—absolutely brutal.

“No,” you mumble, shaking your head. “No, Kook, no, I never—”

Not your coffee boy, but the one that uses a belt to teach you lessons. The one that always knows just how far you’re willing to go.

“Shut the fuck up. You knew what you were doing.”

Jungkook spits in your open mouth, squeezing your throat submissive. You struggle to breathe, but you take it, tightening your thighs around his hips in shameful arousal. He watches you swallow, tongue coming out to show him, just as he likes. He rewards you with a suffocating kiss, before he does it again.

“I bet you wondered how his dick would feel against those velvet fucking walls of yours,” he continued his verbal torture, his other hand pushing your panties to the side, feeling your slick, lapping it with his index, before shoving three fingers inside you at once. You hissed, nails digging holes on his shoulders.

“Yeah?” He fucks you with his entire hand, palm rubbing against your clit. You can’t think of nothing else but getting filled to the brim. “Your mouth works doesn’t it, honey?”

“No one’s fucked me but you in two years,” you confess in a haze, looking at him through your eyelids. Silver shone on his lip and eyebrow under the hidden lighting of his apartment. A shadow draped in gold.

You saw the movement of his jaw, the way his mouth became a thin line. He obviously enjoyed hearing that. But was it enough? Fuck no.

“But they’ve touched you,” he bitterly concludes. “They’ve tasted my pussy, my lips… haven’t they?” He sounded so miserable, so resentful. Your heart ached for him.

You loved this man, but he would never believe you, and you can’t blame him. You loved him in a different way, the only way you knew how. And he did the same. You met and crashed like waves. Your silence was answer enough.

The next moment struck like lightning. All you felt was pain, as he pushed you down on your elbows and ripped your panties off you in one movement. You weren’t even able to scream, the action barely registering in your brain.

“Unbutton my shirt,” he instructed you, no part of him touching you whatsoever. A shudder rippled through you, and down to your unclothed pussy. You scrambled to do as told, afraid of the consequences, hands shaking.

Jungkook groaned impatiently. “Stupid fucking whore, can’t even do something as simple as this,” he snarled at your face, every ounce of affection gone. “D’you need help, sweetheart? Perhaps a manual? None of this is helping your case, you know.”

“I’m—I’m sorry, please,” you whimper, hurrying to undo the stubborn buttons.

He cocked an eyebrow, gaze vicious. Hateful. Something kicked inside of you, a horrifying feeling—you were losing him. He was going to leave you after this. All he’s ever wanted, all you very much were aware of that he craved most—to have you all to himself, to call you his. You never gave it to him, always held back, and for what you’ve no idea. But this, having your body, pleasuring the both of you, it was the one thing if not the only part he had, the one thing he could do, he was allowed.

“Please,” he repeated, the word seemingly unfamiliar to him. “Please, what? Are you sorry at all, baby girl? Do you want me to go easy on you?”

You shake your head again, pushing the shirt off him, bulky muscle now exposed, the chiseled chest you so loved running your tongue over, and the V disappearing beneath his boxers, inviting, nearly a threat.

“Fuck me,” you pleaded, reaching a hand out to touch him, his most private part. “Please. I know I’ve hurt you, I’m sorry, please set me straight, fuck it out of me, I want only you, I promise, only you.”

“Lies,” he shouts, and lunges at you, pinning you down by your waist, skirt pulled roughly from your body. You’re met with the ceiling, but won’t dare move, won’t make a sound unless he tells you to. It’s a thin fucking line you’re walking on, one you haven’t experienced a whole lot.

You hear a shuffling of sorts, before a thud and then you feel it—his hot breath on your cold folds. Those veiny hands on your hips again, before he devours you. The vibration of his growling sends you into a frenzy, and you clench around nothing. Your clit between his sinful lips he sucks painfully at first, wanting to hurt you, but gently afterwards, after your cries settle and you’ve accepted your fate.

You’re at his mercy, and you better behave.

“Used fucking pussy,” he spits on it, fingers working together with his mouth to get you ready for his bulging cock. “What am I supposed to do with a second hand slut like you, huh? Begging to be filled with dick, dripping over my kitchen table…” he tsk’s, tongue flat against your wetness. “You don’t fucking need me, right, I’m just another naive guy wrapped around your goddamn finger, you could have me replaced at any time.”

“That’s not true!” you cry out immediately, hand getting lost in his thick brown locks. “Fuck!” A slap cuts the air—on your pussy. And he does it again, smacks the sensitive area until it’s red and throbbing and licking all over his chin.

“Quiet,” he snaps. “I can make it hurt like never before, honey, don’t fucking test me.”

You’re certain you’re losing your mind by that point, the ache between your legs overwhelming everything else, the thought of needing his cock like you need oxygen the only reasonable solution to making the pain go away. You’re coming before you know it, and Jungkook is a starving man, he licks it all up, licks you dry, marveling at the way your body responds to him, always has.

If only your heart would do the same. If only there was something he could do to make it beat only for him, as his does for you.

“No one will make you come like I do, sweetheart, God my fucking witness. No one knows their way around this pussy like I do, no one will fucking take the time.”

You go to sit up, pull him into you, needing comfort, needing your friend back, the one that made you feel good because you asked, not the half mad one, the obsession, the misshapen thing—for once you need his warm love, the one he’s been talking about, the one hiding behind the heartbreak. You don’t care how awful that is, how selfish you sound.

His palm presses down on your stomach as he towers over you, taking all light with him, flushed cock standing proudly between you, inches away from where you need it most. If he would just move closer, if perhaps you could wiggle further down the table…

“Do not fucking move, angel,” he warns, kissing your sobs silent. With a flick of his wrist, your breasts are in full view, his fingers pinching the erect nipples, calloused palms slapping the plump skin, abusing it.

Every touch vibrates directly in your cunt. You’ve become a blubbering mess, needing nothing but that long stick between his legs. A whore, as he said, a whore with no other purpose than taking dick, his dick, only his, because he’s the only one you want, the only one you need, the only one touching you like this, pushing your limits, driving you over the edge—

“Look at you, my beautiful mess,” he kisses your lips again and again, yet refuses to touch your core. Endless torture, when will it end, when will it end! “Do you understand now? This is what it feels having you under me every night, yet not having you at all,” he shushes your gut wrenching cries, removes your hands from your face, forces you to look at him. “My baby, my love…” he coo’s tenderly, caressing all the way down your body, before his arms hook under your thighs.

He positions you just at the edge of the round table, and quickly leans to lap at your cunt one last time. Christ, fucking Heaven in a woman; it’s alright sweetheart, it’s over, shhh, no more crying, I got you where I want you, I’ll take care of you now, no more crying, fuck if you could see yourself right now, so goddamn hot, a fucking vision just for me, just for your man, you perfect angel, you perfect fucking thing, all for me, all this for me—

You couldn’t describe the tidal wave of relief that washed over you as soon as he buried himself inside you. Both hands on your waist, he slammed you down onto his rock hard cock, his pace fast, relentless, absolutely everything you could’ve ever asked for.

“Harder, fuck, fucking kill me! Don’t stop, please, please, please, please…” incoherent thoughts jumbled together in a string of words, yet Jungkook understood perfectly.

Of course he did.

“Fucking slut…only way you deserve to be fucked…I’m gonna flip this cunt inside out, sweetheart, so no one will be able to screw you. You’re taking my cock so well, baby girl, fuck I want to tear you apart, I want to write my name in this pussy, mark it,” he growled in your ear, manhandling you like a goddamn lifeless doll, pistoling into you with incredible force, so much so you’d think he’d bruise you from the inside, but you couldn’t stop begging him to do so, all of it feeling oh so fucking good.

You want me to mark you, don’t you, you want me drilling into you all fucking day, I know you do, you insatiable goddamn pain in the ass, let me hear you, scream for me, baby, let me know who’s fucking you—say my name, he tightens his grip on your throat, his eyes insane with lust.

“Say my fucking name.”

“Jungkook,” you moan into his hair, nails scratching down his back.

“That’s right, baby. Again.”

“Jungkook!”

I fucking love you, sweetheart, I don’t give a fuck if you never love me back, just give me this pussy, let me drown in it, let me get lost and hide forever in your folds, yeah baby? Come for me now, cream on my dick sweet thing, c’mon, one two three—you scream at the top of your lungs, holding onto him for fear life as your body convulses violently, his own release spurting in thick white strips on your stomach as he barely manages to pull out, and everything goes black. He keeps you on him until you calm down, his pace slow and steady, fucking you both back down to reality.

Your breathing is incredibly labored, hair sticking on your forehead. You look so fucking beautiful to him, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. His pretty girl. He kisses your forehead overtaken by the strange feeling in his chest.

“God—I love you, you know?” You mumble against his chin, suddenly very shy.

Jungkook stills, his entire world pausing its spinning. “What did you just say?”

You try to cover your face, but to no avail. He’s much stronger than you, much more determined to look into those eyes that could never lie to him. You could make him the happiest man on earth or send him down to the darkest pits of Hell with just three words.

“I love you,” you repeat hesitantly, looking up at him. His expression crumbles. “I know it doesn’t mean anything, that I’m late and you probably want nothing more to do with me after this, but—”

His palm slams your mouth shut. Your eyes widen in surprise.

Jungkook then, still inside you, looks at you with the fondest look on his face, his body weight pressing down on you in the most delicious way.

“You’ve no idea what the fuck you’re saying right now, sweetheart, so I’ll forgive you,” he blinks, bewildered, in disbelief. “I never said I’m leaving you. It’s never crossed my mind.”

You furrow your eyebrows, but your words are muffled. He seems to comprehend perfectly well, anyway.

“You could kill me if you wanted, and I’d willingly die by your hand, (Y/N). Have you any idea what it means to love you?”

When he kisses you again, you think you can begin to understand.

#jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #bts smut #jungkook fanfics #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fanfics #jungkook fics #bts fics #jungkook imagine #.mine

[pupyuj]

another ask cause im a sub g!p yujin enthusiast

love the idea of edging and teasing yujin for an emtire day, sending nudes if shes at work, groping and stroking her in public, making sure to bend over so she gets a peek at ur tits and ass

when u two finally get home shoving her against the door dropping her pants and just laying her cock on ur face, just the sight of this in front if her making yujin cum untouched, bucking her hips trying to get some friction to help her pump her seed all over yoyr face,

not letting the poor girl rest immediarely taking her cock deep into your throat,

yujin's legs shaking desperately tring to pry you off her cock but not relenting, your hands finding their way to her ass and hips, one hand pulling hdr hips closer to you to keep ur lips attached to the base of her cock, the other hand teasing her ass

☕️

ahe i twisted the prompt a little bit anon i hope you don’t mind~ but HEHEGUEHE G!P SUB YUJ MY BELOVED 🤤🤤🤤

being mean to her really is so much fun :(( usually she would whine and complain cutely bcs she didn’t like it when her members tease her for being so whipped for you and for being totally unlike the charismatic and charming leader that they’re used to 😭 the two of you would be hanging out with some friends and yujin would just so happen to look so handsome that you can’t help but practically torture her the entire time… brushing your hand across her crotch when nobody’s looking, cupping her bulge for seconds too long, adjusting your outfit so you look slutty just for her… the flustered look on her face was such a turn on that you keep doing all that just so you can give her something to look forward to when you get home 🤭🤭

ehe yujinnie would think that she’s getting what she wants when you ask her to accompany you to a near-empty washroom but really you’re just asking her to help you with your makeup and take some pictures in the mirror,, then it’d be even more torture bcs your friends would join in and it was just the perfect opportunity to grind your ass on poor yujinnie’s hard-on while taking pictures but she can’t do anything bcs people were around 💔 she would be soooo pouty for the rest of the day bcs she doesn’t know what to do with her cock fucking throbbing and the way you constantly whisper naughty things to her from time to time wasn’t helping at all! 😔

and then it was time to go home and the two of you were alone in the back of your friend’s van.. while everybody else talked and jammed out, you had your hand resting on top of yujin’s dick while she whine quietly and begged with her eyes… so cute, but no you couldn’t give her what she wants yet! 🥰 trailing her length with a single finger while giving her soft kisses in her neck, “does my puppy wanna feel good??” it was humiliating for yujin but listen… she was really, really into that… so she didn’t care that she looked like an idiot while nodding eagerly and grinding against your hand :(( poor pup just needs release! 💔💔

and what do you do as soon as you’re inside your shared apartment?? your pushing her to sit on your couch with her pants and underwear off and legs open,, she’d look so pathetic being so desperate but doesn’t say shit when you take your top off and put your knees on the ground, sitting yourself in front of her cock and smiling at how it twitched slightly 🥰 see, we all know yujin has a big cock but for a slut like you, it wasn’t all that hard to take in your mouth in full! her gasping as her tip hits the back of your throat?? puppy grabbing a random couch pillow to hold on to while you slowly started to suck her off.. making sure to release the nastiest and wettest sounds ever known to man as you did so 😵‍💫

yujin’s definitely big on crying while feeling good bcs your work on her mouth was overwhelming in the best way possible! 🤤 her sobbing pitifully as she felt your tongue swipe along her slit,, god she needed to hold onto you but the stern look in your eyes terrified her.. and she was good pup so she needed to oblige! 😔💔 she hears you choking and gagging like you always do bcs her cock was so big but she likes it! loves seeing your eyebrows all furrowed in concentration and your perfect lips wrapped around her.. if she could take a photo she would!! 😍

okay but overstimming her so much that she starts thrashing around and crying??? “s-stop! stop, stop, stop it, please—mommy..!!” the poor girl :(( she already dumped so much cum down your throat how much more could you possibly need?? yujinnie hugging the pillow tightly and sobbing on it as she came for the nth time,, she was so close to passing out ☹️ thankfully you decided that she had enough there.. separating from her cock with a ‘pop’ before tending to your girlfriend :((

sitting on her lap and pulling her head to your chest, “sorry, baby.. you just taste too good… how about you cum inside mommy next, hm?” and suddenly it was like yujin was never tired! her dick all hard again and her eyes finding light, her hands suddenly gripping your hips tightly with clear intention.. that doesn’t mean she’d avoid all the further teasing you’ll be doing of course! 🤭🤭

#☕️ anon #ive smut #ive imagines #ive x reader #ive x fem reader #ahn yujin smut #ahn yujin imagines #ahn yujin x reader #ahn yujin x fem reader #yujin smut #yujin imagines #yujin x reader #yujin x fem reader #girl group smut #girl group imagines #girl group x reader #girl group x fem reader #g!p ahn yujin #g!p yujin #g!p idol #g!p ive

[dearharriet]

By Any Other Name; Sirius Black ☕️

“D’you have a name, love?” He was spitting mischief into every word. “Or should I just call you angel face?”

By God, he was not pulling any punches. His voice being as silky as your knickers didn’t help, nor did his wicked teeth or his lithe hands. It was a feat of its own to close your mouth, and another altogether to speak.

Your name spilled off his lips with an exhaled drag, hot and smoking and swept away by the wind.

“Pleasure to meet you, angel face,” he said cheekily. “You can call me Sirius.”

summary: by the will of mother nature, you meet your charming downstairs neighbor—who has been dying to meet you just as much.

word count: 3K

warnings: fem!r, sexually implicit comments, lots of mentions of underwear and lingerie

authors note: me 🤝🏼 making sirius act like my other favorite scorpio (ryan gosling)

1978. London, England.

+

More than anything in the world, you wished you had a tumble-dryer. The London winds turned brutal in autumn, and you’d lost nearly ten items of clothing before the season was done.

A pretty sundress, a flannel you’d nicked from your father’s dresser. A skimpy little black nighty, the top only lace and the bottom sheer satin.

That one had been the most recent, only the day before. You blamed yourself, really; You thought you’d be coy and hang it outside for the boy downstairs to see, and the wind tore it off the line and blew it to who knows where. Now some creep probably had it in his sock drawer.

Despite all of this, you still did not have a blessed tumble-dryer. Which meant even at present, in wind that might’ve blown your makeup off, you were outside clipping your soggy knickers to the line. Three clips each, thank you very much.

You can’t say it was all that embarrassing. London wasn’t particularly a town of modesty or shame, especially in more recent times. All the ladies along your alley hung their undies out, and no one seemed to mind. Maybe you just lived on an especially progressive block of the city. Whatever it was, you liked it.

You hummed a soft tune as you hung the last piece of clothing on the line, feeling chilly yet accomplished.

The wind had died down just slightly, leaving the clothes swinging on the line—suspended between your building and the one neighboring it. You peeked across to ensure that everything seemed secure, just in time to watch a pair of silky pink undies slip from their clips and fall a story down into the alley.

You clicked your tongue, promptly making your way down the fire escape to retrieve them.

As you rounded the landing to descend the second half of stairs, you were aghast to see the boy from downstairs—the one you so desperately wanted to see your cheeky nightgown—leant against your flat building. He was smoking a cigarette languidly and intently watching your sad knickers which landed before him.

You stammered at first, unsure what to say. The remaining shreds of daylight were reflecting quite stunningly off of his pitch black hair, in a way that was all too distracting. Eventually, you settled for something apologetic.

“God, I’m sorry.” You inched forward until you could bend down and rescue the pink knickers from the filthy ground. You frowned at the specks of dirt on them. You’d have to wash them all over again. Or maybe you should just toss them.

Or cast them into the sea. Perhaps donate them to a bluebird to use for nesting. God, you were embarrassed.

For a split second you became mortified with a scenario where you kept the dirty undies and this handsome-boy-downstairs wanted to shag you, only to find you’re wearing the disgusting alley knickers. Your cheeks grew hot.

You pushed the underwear behind your back then, hoping he didn’t see them in full. When you looked up, he blew a cloud of smoke from his nose and smiled devilishly.

“Not to worry, darling. I’m quite accustomed to women dropping their knickers in front of me.”

Your mouth popped open in shock. A boyish but refined laugh bubbled out of him as you failed to respond.

“D’you have a name, love?” He was spitting mischief into every word. “Or should I just call you angel face?”

By God, he was not pulling any punches. His voice being as silky as your knickers didn’t help, nor did his wicked teeth or his lithe hands. It was a feat of its own to close your mouth, and another altogether to speak.

Your name spilled off his lips with an exhaled drag, hot and smoking and swept away by the wind.

“Pleasure to meet you, angel face,” he said cheekily. “You can call me Sirius.”

“I can’t call you handsome?” You blurted, and Sirius’ smile got so much worse, which is to say humbler and far more genuine.

“If the shoe fits,” he mumbled.

A gust of wind blew and his hair billowed with it, just as he took a final drag of his cigarette. The embers lit his face warmly.

It fit. It definitely fit.

Sirius stomped his smoke out on the cobblestone and brushed his hands off on his slacks.

“I actually have something I want to give you.” Sirius inched toward his flat window, ignoring your pinched brows. “Wait right there.”

Contorting his long limbs, he slipped inside and disappeared.

Within seconds he returned, holding what you instantly recognized as your black nighty. He walked it to you, growing taller with every step.

“Think this belongs to you,” he prodded. You took the garment from him, smiling coyly.

“Do you happen to have any of the other clothes I’m missing?” You accused, and he ducked his head sheepishly.

“Just this one,” he promised, “it fell last Sunday, just here, like your knickers.”

You flushed. “Sorry.”

Sirius’ expression turned boyish. “You should be. I’d have preferred that you came with it.”

The wind picked up again and wafted his cologne with it, something citrusy and clean. A pit stirred in your stomach.

“Maybe next time,” you murmured, and slipped up the fire escape before he could respond.

+

You sincerely didn’t expect to see Sirius after that. Not because you didn’t want to, but because it felt too simple. Too convenient.

Stunning, charming boy downstairs, holding onto your nightclothes to give back to you…

He had to be a creep. There was no other explanation. Or worse—he was only trying to be nice to save you from embarrassment.

You kept running through your conversation with him, adding new motivations and hidden meanings. Each one was like a warning siren, and it kept you from seeking him out.

Sirius, however, was not dissuaded at all.

A week later and it was the turn of November. The winds were cruel and rain barely ever let up, and any sunny day became laundry day.

One fateful, blessed dry Friday, you popped out to hang your loathsome clothes. If being clean was this much trouble, you weren’t sure it was worth it anymore. You were halfway through the soggy hamper when someone downstairs began to whistle.

“Darling, do you do anything but laundry?” A familiar voice called, posh and smug and handsome.

You peeked over the railing, and Sirius was in the alley with an amused grin on his face.

“Do you do anything but watch me do laundry,” you shot back, which made him laugh.

Sirius was making a paper boy cap look very stylish, holding the lip of it to aid his theatrics. There was something quite old fashioned about him, even in his boyish demeanor.

“I like to hear you sing,” he defended. “You have a pretty voice.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. You didn’t entirely realize you sang at all. Sirius shoved his hands into his pockets and looked around.

“Does this seem a bit cliché?”

You looked around, too, at your balcony and the shaded alley; At Sirius, who was the shining image of a hopeless romantic, ready to profess his undying love.

“I suppose,” you agree. “Wherefore art thou? No—a minute is not enough.“

Sirius pushed his tongue into his cheek, grinning.

“I was imagining something else,” he said. “Let down your hair…Or—your clothesline?”

You snorted.

“Luckily, this damsel has stairs.”

Smile widening, Sirius raised his eyebrows, wondering if you’d meant to invite him up. You nodded, and he took the steps two at a time.

It was charming. While you were still reserved, you couldn’t help but admire his complexities. He’d seemed so subdued upon first meeting him, but now he was almost howling with excitement.

He was completely out of place on your terrace. A sharp and shining bachelor lording over your half-dead plants and damp t-shirts. He looked like he had a tumble dryer, and an iron, too. Or a maid. Definitely a maid. It was a mystery why someone so put together was living on the floor beneath you.

“What,” Sirius asked, looking dubious.

“What?” Your cheeks warmed. You’d been spacing out.

“You’re looking at me weird,” he accused, but he kept a lightness in his voice. “You don’t still think I stole all your clothes, do you?”

“No,” you denied. Then, feeling cheeky, you added, “just the nighty, right?”

He blinked, looking shy again. “Well. It—it fell.”

“Oh, right, my mistake. It fell,” you nodded, and watched his mouth open and close.

“Y’know, most neighbors bake something if they want to make friends,” you continued, enjoying his squirming, his brown pearly loafers scuffing on the grated platform.

You thought he was handsome when you met, with his cavalier confidence and dangerous smile, but seeing him so embarrassed was just as enthralling; His fair skin flushed pink, his broad shoulders hunched…his voice turned raspy and unsure.

“I was never good in the kitchen.” He said it like it was a fatal flaw, unfixable.

“No, of course not,” you said with unwavering mirth. “You’d hire someone to do that, wouldn’t you?”

Sirius’ head snapped up, shocked, confirming your suspicions.

“What are you robbing my clothesline for, rich boy,” you teased, wrinkling your nose at him.

Scratching his jaw, he blew out a bewildered laugh.

“What gave it away?”

You snickered, making a sweeping gesture over him. “What didn’t?”

Sirius looked down at his pressed white dress shirt and well-fitted vest. He then ripped his hat off, deflating.

“Thought I was doing a good job of fitting in,” he muttered.

“Sorry,” you cooed, though you weren’t sure why. It should’ve been insulting, that this upper-class idiot was so upset at seeming as well-off as he was, but he kept striking you with an odd sincerity. He didn’t seem ignorant, he just seemed lost, and you felt sorry for him.

“If it’s any consolation, you look quite handsome.”

Sirius looked up at you through his lashes and shyly smiled.

“Do I?” He needled. You hummed affirmatively.

“If a bit chilly. Who’s been making your cuppas?”

Grabbing your basket, you backed away towards your window and slipped inside. You waited for Sirius to follow, hoping your invitation wasn’t too indirect. Thankfully, he crawled in after you, loitering by the window awkwardly.

“Well, don’t let all the heat out,” you called over your shoulder, dropping the basket onto your couch and bee-lining for the kitchen. Sirius closed the window and meandered further into your space.

“You’re not going to poison me, are you,” he asked from your kitchen threshold, watching you put the kettle on.

“I’m not sure you should be as paranoid as me,” you said, leaning against the counter. “But I’m fresh out, so not this time.”

Sirius laughed. “Oh, good.”

“So,” you started, crossing your arms to mirror him, “who are these girls dropping their undies for you? I’m painfully curious.”

Sirius sucked his teeth, hiding a grin.

“I’m not sure you have enough tea,” he sighed solemnly. “We’d be here all night.”

Eyes tracing over the long hands splayed over his biceps, you bit your lip.

“I can imagine,” you humored. “A pretty boy like you…you never catch a break, do you?”

Sirius looked constantly unprepared for complements like this, and you couldn’t get enough. He was pink and silent and restless, faltering for something witty to reply with.

In the end, he just shook his head.

When the water was hot, you made up Sirius’ tea, and he thanked you shyly as his hand brushed yours. He put far too much sugar in it, and not a spot of milk, but you found that just as charming as the rest of him. You sat at your kitchen table, smiling over your cups.

“I haven’t had a good cuppa in months,” Sirius sighed, spinning his mug in absentminded circles.

“Thought you had a maid,” you prodded, and Sirius’ responding smile was bittersweet.

“Not anymore,” he said quietly, “not for a while.”

You took a slow sip of your tea, watching him carefully. As you set your cup down, you licked your lips, and Sirius instinctively copied you.

“So…no maid.” You leaned back, lifting a brow. “Who presses your clothes, then?”

Sirius frowned. “I do.”

“Oh.” You frowned, too. “But you can’t make a cuppa?”

“I—“ Sirius chuckled. “I can make a cuppa. It just tastes better when someone else makes it.”

“Ah.” Picking up your cup again, you smiled at him. “Well, I’m happy to help.”

Sirius pulled his lip between his teeth as you drank, rubbing his hands on his slacks.

“Well I—“ he cleared his throat, “—I should go.”

Confused, you watched him as he pushed his chair back and stood, ducking to you gratefully.

“So soon,” you complained. It was odd. You’d been avoiding him all week, but once he was around you didn’t want him to go.

“Yes, well. I wouldn’t want to intrude.” Sirius smiled kindly, if a little distant.

“Well, I invited you, handsome. That’s hardly intruding.” Your words were intentionally soft and sticky, cloying, to change his mind.

Sirius’s eyes swept over your face for a moment, his mouth chewing on words that never came out. Eventually, he left a thankful caress on your hand, where it laid dormant on the table.

“Thank you for the tea,” he expressed, and then he was gone.

You sat at the table long after he left, until your tea was cold and his empty cup was dry.

+

The whole week after that, you turned your conversation with Sirius over in your mind again and again, looking for what you’d done wrong.

He’d never seemed angry, even as he left. He was almost sullen.

In the days following, it was like he’d never existed. The alley had a Sirius-shaped hole in it every time you hung your clothes, and—as if it was missing him, too—the wind had stopped blowing.

Singing softly, you hung your final garments, enjoying the still evening while you could. When you sucked in a new breath, it was thick with the scent of burning tobacco. You looked down through the slats, and as you expected, Sirius was leaning where he was when you’d first met him.

Sucking your bottom lip, you looked at the cloth in your hands, and then back at Sirius. At the sudden absence of your voice, he’d looked up, and your gaze met his. He stilled, the ash growing perilous on his smoke, and watched as you held your dark nightgown over the railing. You let it go, and watched Sirius sigh, tracking its feathery fall to the ground.

When he looked back up, you were already halfway down the rickety stairs.

“Darling, don’t—“

“You know, it’s rotten manners to leave a girl wondering what she’s done wrong,” you scolded, plucking the gown off of the cobblestones. “Especially after being so charming all the time.”

Sirius winced. “I’m sorry.”

He looked frustratingly good, more casual than you’d ever seen him. His hair was messy and his collar unbuttoned, sleeves rolled to the elbow. It only made you bolder.

“Well,” you prodded, “won’t you at least tell me?”

He furrowed his brows, his cigarette long forgotten between his fingers.

“Tell you what?”

“What I did,” you huffed, exasperated.

His face crumpled.

“Darling,” Sirius stressed, “nothing. You’re the loveliest neighbor I’ve ever had.”

The compliment felt like an insult, calculatedly detached, and you wondered if you’d invented the whole thing in your head.

“Why’d you leave, then?”

Sirius shifted, his expensive shoes crunching on the ground.

“I didn’t want to impose.”

Unbelieving, you shook your head in disappointment. It must’ve been something awfully offensive if he still wouldn’t tell you.

“I can’t afford the expensive teas, so if it tasted odd—“

“—Love, it wasn’t the tea, it’s—“ Sirius licked his lips, hesitating. “I shouldn’t have taken it.”

Lost, the corners of your mouth pulled down. Sirius sighed.

“The gown, I—“ He gestured to the satin in your hands. “It was inappropriate. I’m sorry.”

Avoiding your eyes, he finally ashed his cigarette, but left it abandoned in his hand. Stepping closer, you batted your lashes at his shameful face.

“Sirius, if it worried me, I wouldn’t have invited you inside.”

“It should worry you!” His face contorted. “It was manipulative and debauched—“

“Debauched!” You grinned, eyes bright. “What exactly did you do to my nightgown, hm?”

Sirius’ mouth pursed disapprovingly. “Love, please.”

You stepped closer, pouting.

“You didn’t imagine me in it?” Sirius shook his head passionately, but his cheeks warmed. “Shame. I hung it for you, you know.”

Sucking in a breath, his cigarette met the ground as you waded closer. You reached out, tugging on the top button of his vest.

“Will it take a cyclone for you to ask me out?”

Sirius let out a heavy breath and shook his head. When he said no more, you tilted your head and pulled him into you.

“Well then?”

His eyes searched yours.

“Go on,” you said. “I’m not sure someone who likes his tea with seven sugars could be very scary.”

Brightening, Sirius took your hand where it fiddled with his vest. You watched with heat in your chest as he brought it to his face and pressed his mouth to it. He then turned it over and did the same to your open palm.

“Could I please take you out, angel face?” His breath was hot on the inside of your hand, sending chills up your neck. “To repay you for the stunning cuppa?”

Chuckling, you traced a feather-light finger over his jaw.

“Certainly.” You licked over your teeth. “I’ll wear my driest knickers.”

His smile slipped into wicked territory.

“Don’t sweat it, love.” A big hand smoothed over your shoulder, and you melted. “You’ll only be wasting your time.”

+

thank you for reading! 🦢

masterlist

#sirius black #marauders #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x female reader #marauders era #sirius black fic #sirius black fluff

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

The Dimitrescu Sisters Spicy Headcannons

(A/N- I had to make this. Do I need to say more?)

(Warning: NSFW content and FEM! Reader)

🫀Bela Dimitrescu🫀

- She’s a dominant, a soft dom to be specific, though sometimes she has her rare moments where she’s hard on you >:)

- Bela quickly learns where all of your most sensitive spots are and how to make you scream with utter pleasure (she will most definitely make you scream but you don’t mind, right??)

- Speaking of screaming, your voice is a huge turn on for her. Moaning her name is a quick way to make her dripping wet.

- Loves to use her body to make you feel good. For example, using her hard working fingers to finger you, using her skillful tongue to eat you out, tensing her thigh while you’re riding it to add to the pleasure, etc. etc.

☕️Cassandra Dimitrescu☕️

- Dominate. Good luck trying to top her.

- Sex with her is intense but full of romance and passion.

- Sometimes she likes to have quickies and sometimes she likes to spend hours and hours being intimate with you (who’s sleep? I don’t know her)

- Loves to tease you and make you all flustered, she finds it so adorable (and because her name is Cassandra Dimitrescu) Also whenever she takes off her clothes, she makes sure to take it off very slowly to have you anticipating for whats to come.

- Big on sex toys, she’s willing to try almost anything. (What her girl wants, she gets) She also is really happy that you trust her enough to try new things and be so vulnerable around her.

🛹Daniela Dimitrescu🛹

- She’s a switch, tendency to be submissive.

- When it’s one of those times where she’s dominating, she gets all red and flustered, but can you blame her you just look so god damn hot that she can’t help it.

- The first time that you got naked in front of her, her face went completely red and she was struggling to speak. The only words that came out of her mouth was “W-wow..you look..beautiful.”

- Loves when you kiss all over her body, it makes her feel so loved and cherished.

- She really likes it when you praise and reassure her. Of course she praises you too, but that’s an understatement because she basically worships your body, making any insecurities you may have disappear (why doesn’t Daniela exist in real life??)

Masterlist

#resident evil fanfiction #resident evil smut #resident lover #bela dimitrescu #bela x reader #cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra x reader #cassandra x mc #daniela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu x y/n #daniela x reader

[katsu28]

☕️ bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw and "you know we need to talk." "about?" "i don't know...last night, maybe?"

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x mitchell!reader, mentions of vomiting, mentions of pregnancy, 1.9k

You shouldn’t have been here at Rooster’s place at this time of night. You should’ve been asleep, in bed, but instead you were here, knocking on his door in the middle of the night, all because you’d just discovered something not even two hours ago that would change the trajectory of not only your life, but probably Rooster’s too. 

It took a while, but he finally pulled open the door after your incessant knocking, rubbing his eye furiously as he peered out at who the hell was knocking on his door at three in the morning.

His hair was a riot, brown curls sticking out every which way, eyes bleary. He’d been asleep—of course he was. Anyone in their right mind would be. Except you weren’t really in your right mind right now. You were damn near close to losing it, trying your hardest not to spiral. 

“Y/N? What are you—why are you awake? What’re you doing here?” He yawned, scratching his chest groggily. When you didn’t answer, just stared at him like something was wrong, he gave his head a quick shake to wake himself up a bit. “Are you okay? What—come in, come inside, please.” 

You obliged, stepping past him and over the threshold into his apartment wordlessly. 

“Can I make you some coffee—no, coffee would probably be bad right now. Tea? Water?” He offered, gesturing you towards the kitchen. You settled at one of the barstools in front of the counter, leaning on your elbows, folding your hands. “Not really sure what this situation calls for. Seriously, are you okay? You look…not okay.” 

“I’m pregnant.” You blurted. Well, there went easing into the conversation. Bradley’s eyebrows flew sky high. But wait, there was more! “And I’m pretty sure you’re the father.” 

He blinked at you owlishly, utterly and completely dumbfounded. “Pretty sure? How sure is pretty sure?” 

“Entirely sure, actually. You’re the only guy I’ve been with in a really long time, so either it was a ghost, or it was you.” 

That was something you’d been wracking your brain for since the second you saw the three lines on the test. One night, four or five weeks ago, after some sort of celebration at the Hard Deck that you couldn’t even remember now. 

You remembered leaving the bar with Rooster, taking him home with you, kissing him a lot. It was entirely consensual, that much you could recall. But anything after that up until when you’d first started to feel icky was a blank.

You honestly didn’t even consider the possibility that you were in fact pregnant until your friend suggested it yesterday. Which is why you took the test. Never did you once think it would turn out positive.

It wasn’t that you didn’t think Rooster would be a good father. In fact, out of everyone you’d hooked up with over the years, he was probably the best option. Not that you really had any option, at this point. It was simple, plain as day. You were pregnant, and Rooster was the father. 

Rooster made a face. “Okay, gross. But you took a test? And it was positive?” 

“No, it came to me in a dream.” You snapped, glaring at him. “Yes, I took a test! I took three—all positive!” 

“Alright! Okay, that’s—wow, okay. That’s definitely…something to take in.” 

“I don’t know what to do.” You said quietly, staring hard at the marble countertop.

“Look, it’s late, we’re both tired. We don’t have to do anything right now, we don’t need to make any decisions right now. We have time.” He replied, shaking his head. We. He kept saying we, like he was planning on sticking around. You weren’t sure how to feel about it. “Why don’t you stay the night here and we can talk about this more in the morning?” 

You shook your head quickly. “No, I can’t, I have to be home to set up for the party—oh my god, the party! My dad.” 

“Your dad? What—Y/N, I’m pretty sure he’ll understand. Mav’s more modern than you give him credit for.” 

“Understand? Understand what?” You asked incredulously. Then you got what he was trying to say, and you let out a humorless laugh. “Rooster, we’re not telling him. We can’t tell him!” 

Your dad’s birthday party was tomorrow, and there were so many things you had to set up and do, this was probably the worst time for you to deal with everything going on right now. It wasn’t every day Pete “Maverick” Mitchell turned sixty. You needed everything to be perfect, and this brand new unexpected news was definitely not that. 

Rooster could tell you were starting to panic a little from the weight of everything, so he just went along with what you said, reaching over the counter to cover your hand with his. “Everything is gonna be fine, okay? Just get some rest. Please. Tomorrow’s gonna be a busy day, and you need to sleep.” 

You nodded distractedly, barely registering him guiding you towards the guest bedroom and settling you into bed. And maybe you were more tired than you thought, because your eyes fell shut on their own accord, and you were out like a light before Rooster even had the chance to close the door behind him. 

-------

The party was going great so far. There was food, music, all your dad’s Navy buddies. Everything was running smoothly, and you definitely weren’t thinking about your conversation with Rooster last night, or the fact that you left his house before the sun even rose to avoid talking about the situation even more. 

That was a lie. You couldn’t stop thinking of it, even as you smiled at every one of your dad’s friends jostling him about how old he’d gotten to be completely unaware of the surprise party his daughter planned for him. 

With every conversation about what you’d been up to in life lately, you thought about Rooster. The look on his face when you broke the news to him. The way he must’ve felt when he woke up and you were gone. He was probably mad at you, and you honestly couldn’t blame him. 

Like he knew it was him on your mind, Rooster materialized next to you, busying himself with browsing the drinks in the cooler to make it look like everything was normal. “Y/N.” 

“Enjoying the party?” You asked casually, crossing your arms over your chest. Rooster scoffed softly. 

“You know we need to talk.” 

Your smile wavered for a split second before returning in full force. You glanced over at him briefly, flicking from his very serious face then back to the party. “About?” 

“I don’t know…last night, maybe? You left before I woke up.”  

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“Nothing happened last night, Rooster.” 

“So you’re telling me you’re not pregnant right now.” 

“Keep your voice down.” You hissed. Rooster shot a pointed look at you and you caved, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him towards a more secluded area of the backyard. “You wanna talk? Fine. Talk.” 

“You said the baby was mine. That’s not just something I can forget, Y/N.” 

“And I’m not asking you to forget, I’m asking you to leave it alone for now. It’s my dad’s birthday, Bradshaw. Can’t we just let him have the day before we blow up his entire world?” 

“Okay. Yeah, that’s fine. Dropping it for now.” Rooster conceded, holding his hands up in surrender. In reality, all he wanted to do was figure things out, but he could admit that this wasn’t quite the best place nor time to do it. “What can I do to help you right now?” 

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” 

“Whoa, hey, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to stress you out any more, I just—” 

“No, Rooster, I’m—” You felt the bile rising in your throat alarmingly quick, and before you could even your sentence, you scrambled for the nearest bush to throw up. 

“Oh shit!” Rooster lunged forward, gathering your hair out of your face back towards the nape of your neck as you let it all out. You felt the warmth of his hand on your back, rubbing smooth circles along your spine. 

“Fuck.” You groaned, bracing your hands on your knees. “Please tell me no one saw that.” 

“Uh…” Rooster’s voice was hesitant and you turned your head, only to be met with the one person you didn’t want seeing you like this. Just your luck that even up there in age, that Navy instilled situational awareness never faded. 

“Honey? You alright?” Your dad looked beyond worried, and before you knew it, you were sat down on the living room couch with your father fussing over you, fluffing your pillows, covering you with a blanket, the works. Rooster was hovering over in the corner. 

“Dad, I’m fine! I probably had some bad oysters or something at girls’ night yesterday.” You sighed, ducking away from his attempt at feeling your forehead. As much as you didn’t enjoy lying straight to his face, telling him it was most likely a pregnancy symptom was definitely out of the question. “Go back, enjoy your party, please.”

“I should really stay, what if—” 

“I’m in good hands, Dad. Rooster’s got me covered.” 

“I’ll take the best care of her, Mav, don’t you worry.” 

“No doubt in my mind you will.” He clapped Rooster on the shoulder, giving him a sharp nod. He turned to you. “Drink something. Eat something. I’ll check back in later. Love you, sweetheart.” 

“Love you too, Dad.”

After waving everybody back to the festivities with assurances that you just needed to lay down for a bit and would be just fine, Rooster reappeared in the doorway a little while later, this time bearing gifts. 

“Crackers and ginger ale. Eat them, they’ll help.” He insisted, letting you take the plastic cup from him. “Stole them from the cooler and snack table. Who knew an old man’s birthday party would have just what I was looking for?” 

You managed a meager smile, but when you took a tiny sip of the soda, you found that it actually did help a bit. “How’d you know what I needed?” 

Rooster rubbed the back of his neck, pressing his lips together with a haphazard shrug. “My mom. When she got sick, they always seemed to help with the nausea. Made sure we were always stocked and ready for whenever she needed it.” 

“I wanna keep the baby, Rooster.” You blurted. Rooster nearly choked on his own saliva in surprise. 

“You—you do?” 

“And I want you to be there every step of the way.” You continued, fidgeting with the stray thread at the edge of your blanket. He took a seat next to you on the couch, rubbing his hands over his legs nervously. “Only if that’s what you want, though. I’m not trying to force your hand or baby trap or anything like that. It’s your choice, completely. But…I’d like it if our kid knew their father. In whatever capacity you’re comfortable with.” 

“So, like co-parents? Or…more?” Rooster said slowly, gauging your reaction with wide, almost nervous eyes. 

“I’m open to more.” You replied. Maybe you were reading too much into it, but he seemed to look very pleased with that. “I don’t know what this is gonna be like, for either of us, but I like to think we’ll get through it all. Together.”

He nodded, sliding his hand into yours and squeezing. “Together.”  What that together entailed, you weren’t all too sure. And although you were nervous as hell about what laid ahead, you were looking forward to finding out.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

#kait's 2k! #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x mitchell!reader #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw fic

[mrsvalentinefucker1]

La squadra with a s/o Who likes to be spanked and have their hair pulled

With a s/o who likes being choked and spanked

Risotto: Ris has obviously done these things to people in bed before.. I mean look at him…But with this comes some degrading, if you don’t like it tell him but it’s basically just a habit for him. He does praise you as well so… He will not hesitate to fuck you while he yanks you hair and puts your back to his chest, I mean- honestly it’s hot as hell to him as well as it is for you. Risotto isn’t really into spanking as much though, he will do it but it hurts his hand and he doesn’t know why you like it so much. Still hot to him tho.

Prosciutto: He lives for this. His daddy kink shows so bright when you ask him to do these nasty things. Smacks you across the face “you’re too much for daddy, Troia..” he huffs out as he pulls your hair and kissed you neck. He spanks you over his knee all the time. If your acting bratty he will punish you, your ass will be red and you will be crying after, but not crying from pain.. from sexual frustration. He absolutely adores it and you HAVE to count aloud.

Formaggio: Formaggio is such a spanking fan, he loves to spank you all the time. Just smacking your ass in general but he likes to hear you whimper as he fingers you and spanks you. He doesn’t mind hair pulling but it’s not his all time favorite, he just loves to spank you more than anything!

“Oh come on! You weren’t whimpering when you were acting like a bratty slut earlier!” Then another smack comes across your ass

Ghiaccio: Ghiaccio is R O U G H! He loves to be rough and he loves to spank you. Hair pulling isn’t complete if he’s not spanking you while he’s doing it though. Degrading you is all apart of the process. You can’t get through a session without him saying some kind of nasty degrading thing too you. He likes to take his anger out on you so hair pulling and spanking are the way to goooo😩 he absolutely can not get over it. But you will be hurting… everywhere

Melone: melo loves to spank and loves to hair pull. But he pulls hair lightly unlike some people.. (ghiaccio). He pulls you in by your hair and kisses you passionately before you beg him to fuck you, then he spanks you for even thinking to beg like a slut.

“Tsk.. principessa.. begging like a slut isn’t going to get you what you want. Now you know what to do” he points at his lap and you already know to lay over his knees and he makes you out too.

Illuso: He only likes hair pulling no spanking. It hurts his delicate hands and he doesn’t like it. Maybe once in a while he’ll do it but it’s very rare, it only happens when he’s super angry at something and he wants to take it out during sex.

He loves to hair pull tho, yanking you by the hair and hearing you gasp as he pulls you close to him

“What did you say, y/n? You like it when i pull your hair don’t you!?” You whimper and he bites your neck

————

Buy me a Kofi! ☕️

Definitely not required but they do help:)

#jjba #jjba fanfic #jjba golden wind #jjba part 5 #golden wind jjba #ghiaccio #ghiaccio x reader #risotto nero #risotto x reader #prosciutto #prosciutto x reader #melone #melone x reader #illuso #illuso x reader #la squadra #la squadra x reader

[thecuriousquest]

headcanons for yandere big brother levi x little sister? thanks and have a good day!! <3

Yandere Big Brother Levi Headcanons

Platonic!Yandere Levi x Little Sister Reader

Tag List: @issamomma

Warnings: Yandere themes, control issues, caning

Checkout my Master List here.

—————————————————————————

☕️He might be short, but he is mighty. He worked his way up from the Underground to a complete position of authority. He is a force you don’t want to reckon with, and he is also your big brother.

☕️Big brother Levi Ackerman keeps an eye on you. As a yandere, you are his world. He is an overprotective yandere. After losing his mother and so many friends and teammates, he is done with losing. He won’t lose you to Titans. With the Ackerman gene, he trains you to be a beast. He makes your training difficult, but he has to in order for you to survive. He has absolutely no mercy on you during these exercises.

☕️“Keep going! I don’t give one shit if your hands are bleeding. You don’t stop until I say you’re done, cadet! Keep those tears to yourself!”

☕️In private, however, he’s holding you closely and reassuring you that everything is okay. He whispers how proud he is of you while changing your bandages.

☕️Normally, I would regard him as a sadistic yandere. The reason why he isn’t sadistic towards you is because he gets no pleasure from making his baby sister cry. He doesn’t like beating you with a belt or slapping you across the face. He doesn’t even like publicly humiliating you. Sure, he likes to tease you and embarrass you in public, but that’s where the line is drawn.

☕️Punishments may include being sent to bed early with no dinner, being made to help him with paper work, extra chores, or (as an absolute last resort if none of these punishments work) having your hands hit with a cane. Again, this last punishment is not for his own gratification. He canes your hands raw because he believes it’s what’s best for you, and big brother Levi knows best. If you’re unwilling to learn, then he’s unwilling to be merciful. He will still hold you after and coddle you because he can’t stand seeing his baby sister cry, but you’re too precious for him to lose, so he’ll remain strict for your best interest.

☕️Levi likes to keep you polished. You’re not allowed to walk around with dirt on your clothes, even if you wanted to eat right after training or fighting Titans. The only excuse you’re allowed to have for being dirty is having an injury. Otherwise, your hair must be pulled back, and your clothes and skin must always be clean. Proper hygiene is very important to him, and he forces you to practice it on days you don’t even want to get out of bed. Another expectation he has is for you to be well-mannered and drink tea or eat properly. You are a representation of him after all.

☕️All in all, Levi isn’t the worst big brother you could get stuck with. He loves you dearly, and he’d do anything for you. He shows his love in a tough way, but he’s just looking out for you.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman attack on titan #aot levi #levi ackerman aot #levi ackerman #yandere levi x reader #yandere levi ackerman #levi is hot #captain levi #levi attack on titan #snk levi #levi aot #yandere #triggering content #triggering themes #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #platonic yandere #big brother yandere #yandere big brother

[plzu]

Just Water, Thanks - (Adrian Chase x Reader)

part four☕️

a/n: tbh if my 13 y/o self saw me updating a multi-chapter fic [redacted] months after the last update, she'd be impressed. this is shorter than i wanted it to be bc i had to cut it off. consider this an in-between chapter as we navigate (negative) emotions and such. anyway, hope y'all don't mind as i steer this story into angst territory! Summary: Adrian takes care of you while you are drunk and miserable in his home. Warnings: 18+, no Y/N, ANGST (reader is going thru it), mentions of assault, mentions of gore and blood and nightmares, a reference to one of the Saw movies (idk which, sorry), not beta read, if i missed anything lmk pls!! Word Count: 3.3k+

Revelations are dizzying. Revelations taste like vomit in the back of your mouth, and the backs of your teeth. Revelations leave you sore all over, more sore than you think you’ve ever been. Revelations are exhausting. They leave you parched as shit.

Or maybe that’s just the alcohol.

The night wasn’t supposed to go like this. 

It was supposed to be some girls from high school. Old friends. Best friends. The people that were your anchor in Evergreen, who made everything bearable. Late night talks and laughing over the dumbest things and whisperings about crushes and aspirations.

People you slowly stopped talking to once you moved across the country, to some city that could swallow you whole.

People that decided to return the favor. Two last minute ditches, and one that completely ghosted you. They’re just busy, you thought, a dirty martini and a half in. They have real jobs, and spouses, and… kids? Maybe?

Pouty and miserable at the sleek bar, drowning your insecurities in alcohol, picking at the olives at the bottom of empty glasses. They’re too- too good for me, anyway. 

Having found some semblance of happiness in an unlikely friendship with Adrian Chase, you thought you’d finally venture out, expand your social circle again. Feel like you have everything together, finally.

Learn to experience snatches of happiness elsewhere, outside of time spent with Adrian. Because, face it: there is something that feels slippery about him. Evanescent. Like one day he’s going to disappear, or get bored of you.

Or reveal whatever secrets he’s been clearly harboring, something neither of you could return from, and the wedge that it would drive between you would leave you right back to where you started: a ghost that didn’t even have the good grace to properly die. 

You walk -- stagger, really -- down the empty street, most of your weight supported by the masked Vigilante. Adrian is supposedly under that mask. You cannot wrap your head around this fact, even after watching Vigilante answer Adrian’s phone, and say some bullshit excuse only Adrian could come up with. 

“Alright, here we are!” Vigilante (Adrian?) declares. “The Vigilante-mobile.”

You both come to a stop. You squint bleary-eyed at the 4-door sedan, glance at the masked face beside you, then back to the car. 

“It’s just your regular car.”

Vigilante -- no, Adrian, definitely Adrian -- snorts. “Well, yeah. I can’t exactly afford a second car with a busboy salary.”

This almost makes you laugh, because Adrian is good at that, really. Effortless. But nausea stirs in your gut, so you decide against it. Grumble a wordless response instead. 

Adrian attempts to ease you into the passenger seat, asking if you’re hurt anywhere else. If they hurt you in any worse ways other than the obvious. You can only shake your head noncommittally, fighting back the urge to vomit again. There will definitely be bruises and sore spots on your aching body from the rough way they had handled you, but you know what he’s really asking.

Head slumped back against the headrest, you close your eyes for a few minutes. You have to buckle up, Adrian urges, but you cannot find the strength or the energy to pull the seat belt around your body. A pathetic little huff is all you can really muster before Adrian, patient and gentle, pulls the seat belt around your torso and fastens you in place. 

Unfortunately, the gentle action is buffeted by the coppery scent that washes over you, the roughness of his gloves and suit briefly scraping your skin; this doesn’t smell like Adrian. Not like the familiar Irish Spring soap, or coffee and caramel after visiting you at the cafe. This makes you whine. Whimper, really, dissatisfied and uncomfortable and very momentarily scared. 

Misunderstanding, he tells you you’re going to be okay, in a voice that’s a touch too animated for the general mood of the night.

When the door is shut, you try not to suffocate in the brief silence that follows. Keep your eyes closed as the muffled thud of the trunk jolts the car a bit, willing the queasiness away. Desperately wishing for water, or sleep, or death. 

You do not open your eyes when Adrian finally gets in the car, and starts driving, until he mentions something about taking you home. At that point, your eyes fly open.

“No,” you beg. “No, Adrian, please. I can’t go home like this. I don’t want them to see me like this.”

There’s a quiver in your voice. Nervousness builds in your chest, a rapid flutter in your ribs that makes you feel like crying. Adrian stares, eyes flicking from your face to the quickening rise and fall of your chest, and you realize it’s just Adrian sitting next to you, now. Wearing normal clothes. No blood-splattered suit or eerie red visor. Just the familiar--if slightly disheveled--curly hair and glasses, lips parted in confusion or concern. Seeing his bare face is almost a comfort, especially when he nods, and faces the road again. 

The trip to Adrian’s apartment becomes a hazy memory. He walks you through the corridors of some small apartment complex until you’re trudging through the threshold of his home, where he guides you through the dark into his bedroom. You sag into the edge of his bed once he turns on the light. 

“Gotta get you cleaned up, but… do you need water?” Adrian asks. You only stare back up at him before he goes, “right, yeah, no, you definitely need water. Wait right here.”

When he comes back, Adrian is juggling a couple of bottles of water and a first-aid kit to dress your wound. He sets everything down, handing you a chilled water bottle which you gratefully accept. You cannot unscrew the cap of the bottle fast enough to immediately quench the discomfort of your sandpaper tongue. 

“Slow sips,” Adrian says, after some reckless guzzling causes you to choke and dribble water all over your chin. 

Setting the bottle aside, you notice stands with his back to you on the other side of the room. You realize this is him giving you privacy so you can begin the struggle of taking off the stockings. They get halfway down your thighs, dress rucked up around your hips, before the effort of it unlocks a well of tears; a flash of a memory of being six years old and left to fend for yourself for the first time in a fight to tug on tights for school.

It’s not that you’re so inebriated that you can’t take off your stockings, though it certainly doesn’t help. It’s that once you get the fabric rolled down to your skinned knee, a new wave of nausea overcomes you. You can feel the mesh of the tear sticking to the gooey wet parts of the wound, and your mind reels with the dizzying thought that if you tug anymore, you’re going to make it worse. Take more skin off. Bleed all over Adrian’s bedsheets. Throw up again, probably.

It’s just for a brief second, you don’t let the feeling last too long, but-- the quick snatch and tug of the nylon on the tattered skin of your knee reminds you of one of the Saw movies, and how one of the traps involved gluing some poor fuck’s bare back to the driver’s seat of a car. And the way he had to peel off the seat, screaming and sweating, struggling to reach the -- the brakes? The gas? -- just to try to save some girl’s life. The stretch of skin, the vivid gleam of blood, your memory no doubt enhancing the gore of the scene in a new wave of despair.

When Adrian turns around, he finds you with your face hidden in the cusp of your palms, stockings only rolled down to the tops of your knees. Your dress is still bunched up around your hips, and maybe you should feel exposed, sitting on Adrian’s bed with your thighs bared. Embarrassed, even. But between the ick in your stomach and the sour taste at the back of your throat and the headache that begins to pulse behind your eyes like remnants of the bassline from the club, you don’t have any room to care. 

(And, admittedly. You don’t think you’d mind Adrian seeing this much of you. Under different circumstances, at least.)

You sense him hovering closer, probably paused at the sight of you all pathetic on his bed. Or the bare flesh of your thighs, more likely. Something unintelligible is mumbled into your hands in an attempt to draw his attention. Let him know you’re aware of his presence, and that you’re lucid, at the very least.

“Sorry- what?”

You sniffle, before mustering up the strength to raise your head up. But only enough to stare at his feet. “I can’t- My tights. I can’t… take them off.”

You watch as his scuffed up shoes approach you. Absently, you think about how Adrian hasn’t worn these before, even though it’s gotten cold. And, oh, they’re probably just part of his Vigilante costume. 

Ah. Vigilante. Adrian. 

“Whoa… what do you mean?” Adrian crouches down, his bespectacled gaze in your sight, and you realize the quick, short breaths you hear are your own. “Are you going to cry again? I have tissues here on my nightstand- for, like, normal reasons. Nothing gross. Ignore the lotion.”

There’s a very small part of you that knows this would have -- should have -- made you laugh. It’s the part of you that feels detached from this whole experience, as if watching from outside of your body. Like a muted, sober-ish ghost that can’t do anything but observe. Helpless. Unable to keep you safe.

You can’t even take off your fucking tights by yourself.

“The- the cut on my knee,” you attempt to warble through your explanation. “It’s, um- it feels weird. I don’t think I can take off my tights…”

“Well, we have to dress the wound otherwise it might get infected.” Adrian pauses, raises his hands so they hover over your lap. “Is it okay if I..?”

When you nod -- shakily, fearfully, desperately -- his hands continue their journey to your right thigh. His middle and forefingers, surprisingly gentle, slip into the scrunched up fabric at the base of your knee, and a shiver runs down your spine at the feel of his hands there. There is a feeling that slowly blooms in your chest at the sight of Adrian on his knees for you, taking care of you. But it’s being overshadowed by the anxiety gripping your throat and making your head spin in anticipation of the potential pain to come from your tights being ripped from your bloody knee.

No longer able to keep upright, you gracelessly plop back into the soft sheets, ceiling swaying in your vision. You make no effort to get back up; not like you wanted to watch the horror of Adrian potentially ripping the skin off your knee.

His voice, with a touch of anger that’s still unusual to hear, cuts through the haze of worry. “I hate those motherfuckers for doing this to you.”

A humorless, breathy snort escapes at that, shame sapping the energy out of you. “That wasn’t their fault,” you mumble. “‘M not tryin’ to defend them or anything, but it was my stupid, drunk ass that tripped and got myself into this whole mess…”

Because the truth is, if you hadn’t drunkenly stumbled down the wrong street when trying to find your Uber, if you hadn’t worn heels that don’t feel natural on your feet anymore, if you hadn’t felt so anguished and lonely that you sought solace in a few too many cocktails-

If you had just been a better friend to the people that made your high school years bearable, you wouldn’t have been crowded and overpowered by strange men with horrifying intentions. 

“Were you… by yourself?” Adrian’s voice carries over you while he’s still somewhere at your knees. “Where were those friends of yours? The ones you were meeting up with?”

The heels of your palms dig furiously into your closed eyes until you’re seeing black and red and you’re sure your eyeballs are just about to successfully squish into your skull. “They never showed up,” you admit, hoarsely, dejectedly.

Moments pass. There’s this light, almost lulling feeling, the tug and pull of your right leg. If you weren’t drowning in the barrage of negative thoughts and guilt and the kind of worthlessness that only creeps up on you in your own bedroom, you’d find Adrian’s ministrations comforting. 

“Don’t get mad, but it doesn’t sound like they were very good friends if they abandoned you to drink alone at club a in a sketchy neighborhood.”

But isn’t that what I deserve?

See- 

You left. Most people did after high school, but you made it a staunch point to never come back. 

You didn’t mean to abandon the friends you made in Evergreen. But life went on, and time passed quicker than you could make sense of, and fuck if you didn’t find any excuse to not come back home during breaks -- internships, supposedly important trips for school, job-hunting, moving in with your first love -- all so you could prolong seeing your family again.

What’s so bad about them, anyway?

They make me feel-

A sharp sting of pain rips you out of dark muddled thoughts, hissing through clenched teeth as you shoot into an upright position, lurching forward. 

“Sorry, sorry! But I did warn you.”

Oh, right. Adrian. You’re in Adrian’s bedroom, and he’s currently at your knees, hair still rumpled and eyes shining bright and concerned behind his glasses. And… he’s holding an alcohol pad. And your knee is…

“You got the tights off?” you ask in breathless disbelief.

“Yeah. I had to cut it up, though.” He grimaces. “Sorry. But it was already torn, so…”

Sure enough, the area around your knee is now fully exposed and free of any sticky mesh. The cut was beginning to scab over, but the alcohol pad made it newly shiny. It stings, but at least it doesn’t look like whatever nightmare scenario you’d been afraid of.

Adrian continues cleaning up and bandaging your wound as you look away, too light-headed to watch him work. It’s not until he’s gently pressing a bandage to your knee that you finally let out a breath you didn’t realize you were even holding. 

“There, all done.” Adrian stands, gathering everything up with careful, unrushed movements. “Let me get you something to sleep in.”

“Huh?” You blink up at him, confused. 

He’s rummaging through a dresser drawer, back turned to you when he responds. “Trust me, you’re not going to want to fall asleep in ripped clothes.” Turning around with some folded clothes in his hands, he continues, “I don’t imagine it’d be very comfortable. Plus, what if you wake up, not remembering what happened--you know, because of the drinking-- and you’re in my bed with a ripped dress? How does that make me look? It’d be pretty hard to convince you I didn’t do anything to you.”

He hands you the clothes--a big soft tee-shirt and sweatpants--and turns to leave. There is a cacophony of feelings clamoring around in your head and in your heart, and you find yourself helplessly overwhelmed once again but also, endlessly grateful for this man that saved your life. Not just tonight, but the night he stepped into your cafe painfully close to closing and made things feel silly and good again. 

“Adrian?” you softly call out as he turns to leave you to change.

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re my best friend.”

Something expands in his chest when Adrian hears those words come out of your mouth. Like a frog puffing up with a croak, or a balloon that’s filled to bursting but doesn’t want to pop. He thinks he was a kid the last time he actually heard someone tell him, to his face, that he’s their best friend.

Sure, the admittance wavered out in an alcohol-infused breath, and he’s not sure how much you had to drink tonight but it may be enough to forget this moment.

But he wasn’t drinking. He’ll hold onto this moment forever.

A smile grows crooked on his face as he hovers by the door, meeting your gaze. “Yeah?”

You nod, holding the clothes handed to you lamely in your lap. There’s something glum about the sag of your shoulders, but he can’t think about that too much in his rush to assure you that you’re his best friend, too. Top 3, definitely.

This makes you snort, which he counts as another win for the night since it’s the first sound of laughter he’s heard since finding you in the alley.

He finally leaves you to change, and to get some much needed rest, and grins from ear to ear at the knowledge that the person he’s liked since high school is in his bed tonight.

Despite the comfort of Adrian’s tee-shirt, the smell of him in his clothes and sheets, the softness of it all wrapped around you, you do not sleep well.

You dream of dark alleyways and even darker figures crowding you, overpowering you. Limbs boneless, unable to fight back. When you scream, it’s not loud enough. There’s a thumping bass reverberating off brick walls that drowns out your cries for help. 

It’s frustrating. This powerlessness. The feeling of utter uselessness, frightening to your core. 

Then, the dream shifts. You are no longer being crowded and pinned by the shadowed figures, yet fear still grips you, clings to your skin, hot and wet- when you look down, the sticky wet feeling isn’t fear but blood, splattered all over your clothes and dripping from your arms. You want to feel triumph, search for the feeling in the recesses of your brain, you want so badly for that to replace the anxiousness gripping your lungs now that you’re free.

But when you look back up, you see viscera-laden bricks. Bodies with holes where they shouldn’t be, missing pieces. This is still a nightmare.  A familiar voice, tainted by something dark and unrecognizably sinister, laughs at the mouth of the alley. It’s another shadowy figure, red visor glowing in your direction. “You’re okay now,” he says, tone unsettling, too-chipper. “They’re all dead!”

taglist: @whatevermonkey @nobodys-baby-now @hiddlebatchedloki @pokoyolfhw

#adrian chase x reader #vigilante x reader #writing #fanfic #mine #peacemaker fic #vigilante fic

[wavelikewhat]

More Than A Latte

Pairing: Barista!Seungcheol x Reader (any pronouns) Summary: You have a huge crush on the handsome and flirty barista who makes you a perfect latte nearly every day. Unfortunately, it’ll probably never be anything more, right? That’s what you believe… until you see him on a night out with your friends. Wordcount: 1.7k Content notes: Reader goes to a bar and orders drinks, but no direct mention of alcohol, drinking alcohol, or drunkenness. No smut. Total fluff. Genres/themes/appearances: Fluffy and frothy like his lattes would be. Entirely inspired by this clip. Barista!Cheol in that shirt with that hair and those forearms really put a lot of thoughts into my head.

A/N: this is a mini "collab" with @seungkwansphd: please read their version of this concept called bean me up, scotty!! we both had different inspiration based on my totally normal and definitely not over the top reaction to that Barista!Cheol clip ☕️

SC - What will it be today? YN - Medium latte. SC - Perfect… and can I have a name? YN - Y/N. SC - Thanks Y/N. Your drink will be on the other end of the counter over there. 

SC - Hey! I remember you from the other day! What will you have today? YN - Hey, good morning. I'll have a medium latte. SC - Excellent choice… Remind me of your name? YN - Y/N. SC - All right Y/N, it’ll be at the end of the counter. 

SC - Hey Y/N, good morning! Medium latte? YN - You are a quick learner. SC - It helps that you order the same thing every time. Have a good one! 

YN - Hey, good morning. SC - Hey Y/N! Regular? YN - Make it with an extra shot of espresso, please. SC - I can't tell if that's a commentary on last night or this morning. YN - Let's just say both and leave it at that. 

YN - Hey, good morning. I'll have a medium latte. SC - Perfect order for a perfect day. YN - It really is beautiful out… I was thinking of taking the bus but maybe I'll walk. SC - You can't take hot coffee on the bus. Unless you're sneaky? YN - I am not very sneaky… I just drink my coffee a little faster than is probably responsible. Is that against the rules too? SC - I will be here to make your medium latte whenever you need it. Just don't take it on the bus.  YN - I promise.

SC - Hey Y/N, how was your walk yesterday? YN - It was really nice. Did you get a chance to get outside? SC - I did, you inspired me. I took the long way home. YN - Home isn't nearby? SC - I live on the other side of the river. YN - Oh, me too! SC - Really?

SC - Hey Y/N, medium latte?  YN - You are my hero. 

……………………

“Hey, good morning Y/N! I saw you across the street through the window.” Seungcheol picks up the white cup on the counter in front of him and hands it to you. “Here you go,” he says with a casual smile. Your knees threaten to give up on their one job of holding you upright.

You take the latte from him, fingertips gently brushing against his. You couldn’t have imagined the spark you felt when you touched his skin. Your fingers are probably going to tingle for the rest of the day from the memory of his touch. 

You gather your wits and look up at him. “Wow, thank you! Does everyone get this level of service?” You’re flirty, you always are. You can’t turn it off when it comes to him.

“Only you.” The corner of his mouth tilts up. He’s flirting, too.

“Do you say that to everyone?”

“Only you.” He grins wider and runs a hand through his blond hair, all while meeting your gaze.

You glance down at his name tag to break eye contact. “Seungcheol (he/him)” it says, as if you haven’t read it a thousand times before. 

His crisp white shirt is buttoned nearly all the way up to his neck, just one left undone, giving you the tiniest peek at his collarbone. His sleeves are rolled up the same way as always, showing the same few inches of forearm you stare at almost every morning.

He chuckles and draws your attention back to his face.

You still haven’t ever said his name, but he always greets you with yours. It gives you a buzz every time you hear it.

The way he says your name affects you. The way he smiles after he says your name affects you. The way his eyes light up when he sees you walk through the door… That definitely affects you.

……………………

“How did you even find out about this place?” you ask as you step out of the taxi. 

“Someone I work with was talking about it,” your friend Nina replies, adjusting her top. “I figured we might as well go somewhere new.”

“What, you don't like change?” your friend Eunchae teases as they hold the door open in front of you. 

“Haha,” you reply sarcastically, knowing full well that you're the most routine-oriented person any of your friends had ever met, even counting Nina’s dad who delivers mail—which means he goes to the same houses on the same street in the same order every single day. You can’t help it if you like routine! Spontaneity isn’t really your strong suit.

“Well, it looks pretty cool,” you say, scanning the crowd. Everyone seems to be having a good time, which is always a promising sign. It isn’t too loud, but there’s a level of excitement in the air that makes you bob your head slightly to the song spun by the DJ in a far corner of the room. Your friends lead you to the bar and you run your eyes down the length of it, seeking out the bartender with the shortest queue. 

And that's when you see him. 

Seungcheol. He's in a tight black tee (where did those muscles come from?) flashing the smile that had become a crucial part of your morning routine. As he turns his head, his blond hair sparkles in the dim bar lighting. 

Your eyes narrow at the women giggling as he hands them two colorful drinks. Who could they be? Does he know them? Why is he smiling at them?

“What do you want?” Nina asks in front of you, breaking your concentration. Thankfully, she’s caught the attention of a bartender working exactly where the three of you are standing. You make a very large mental note to avoid Seungcheol's section of the bar for the rest of the night. 

As much as you want to see Seungcheol again, because once nearly every day is definitely not enough, you have absolutely no idea what you would say if he recognized you… if he even could recognize you outside the context of the cafe. You’re dressed totally differently from how you dress for work, and your hair is different, and your makeup is different, and hopefully your entire demeanor is different because it isn’t the crack of dawn and you aren’t getting the caffeine you desperately need in order to become a human being. You have many hours of being human behind you today. 

That’s when you remember that you didn't actually see Seungcheol today. You were running late to work and you didn't have a chance to stop for coffee, so you ended up making instant coffee in the break room after you arrived. It wasn’t the same. Seungcheol’s coffee just works better.

Needless to say, you plan to do everything in your power to avoid him tonight, even though every single molecule in your body wants to be as close to him as possible… tonight, tomorrow night, and every night until the end of time. 

Your friend hands you a glass and motions you away from the bar. You’re more than happy to escape the possibility that Seungcheol might notice you (even if that's secretly what you want). You attempt to stop thinking about him for the next half hour while your friends gossip and sip their drinks. You mostly succeed, because your eyes only land on him every few minutes instead of every fifteen seconds. 

“Come help me carry the next round,” Eunchae instructs as they stand up. You casually glance at Seungcheol’s section of the bar as you follow Eunchae. There’s a huge smile on Seungcheol’s face as he pours drinks for two guys who look to be as tall as he is. He looks so painfully good in that shirt. 

When the guys turn around to walk away, they are very obvious about glancing back at him with their wide eyes and secretive grins, clearly discussing the handsome bartender who just made their drinks. As they should, you think. He deserves it. 

You shake your head, trying to get him out of your mind. “Can you see which bartender we should go to?” Eunchae asks, looking at both ends of the bar in confusion. You point to the bartender at the exact opposite end of the bar from Seungcheol. 

“He only has one person in front of him,” you explain, walking as far away from Seungcheol as possible. 

Despite your reluctance to look at a certain bartender in the building, you and your friends have an amazing time. The drinks taste great and the vibes are just right. The three of you were enjoying letting loose after a long week, and you can tell the people around you are enjoying themselves, too. 

After the three of you head out to the dance floor, Nina and Eunchae keep saying they’re looking forward to coming back and bringing your other friends along. You’re excited and horrified by this possibility. It’s always great to find a new place you and your friends all like. The problem is you don’t know if you can even get through this night without making eye contact with Seungcheol and melting on the spot. There is no way you'd be able to hide from him on another night out, or other nights if your group keeps dropping by. 

Sooner or later you’ll end up having an awkward encounter with him and you do not trust yourself to be cool in that situation. Not even a little bit. 

“Let's have one last round?” Nina suggests, and you nod. Eunchae moves toward Nina, saying they’ll help carry water to the table with the drinks if you can snag a table. You look around, enjoying the music and carefully avoiding a certain someone in a black shirt. 

When your friends come back and set all the drinks and water on the table you're at, you let yourself enjoy their company fully, appreciative of the fun night with some of your favorite people. You’re finally able to completely forget the man at the end of the bar. 

Suddenly, Nina and Eunchae both turn their heads toward you. No, not toward you: they’re looking at someone behind you. You turn back to find out what caught their interest.

“Hey Y/N,” Seungcheol says with an easy grin, the same way he always does. You can’t help but smile in return. You kick yourself for developing this specific muscle memory.

He’s looking you in the eye for the first time all night. Despite your best efforts (and you tried really hard!) it turns out he did notice you. And he didn’t just notice you, he recognized you and sought you out and said your name out loud in his way that always sends a chill down your spine.

He introduces himself briefly to Nina and Eunchae, exchanging only names and nods. Then he focuses his attention on you again.

“I’m done with my shift. Ready to go?” he asks expectantly.

Without receiving any instructions from your brain, your mouth responds. “Yes.” 

“Are you sure?” Nina asks, looking right at you. 

“I thought we could share a cab?” Seungcheol adds, still smiling, still looking at you.

“We live in the same neighborhood,” you explain, as if that’s all the explanation necessary for leaving with a hot bartender your friends have never spoken to who also somehow knows your name and where you live. You find yourself backing away from the table. Tonight your mouth and legs have made a lot of decisions without your brain’s direction.

“I’ll text you when I get home!” you promise, waving at your friends before spinning around. 

When you turn to face Seungcheol, he takes your hand and bites his bottom lip for a moment before grinning at you. “Hi Y/N,” he says.

“Hi Seungcheol,” you respond, grinning back at him.

#scoups #seventeen scoups #seventeen seungcheol #choi seungcheol #seventeen s.coups #scoups fanfic #svt #svt scoups #svt fanfic #svt fluff #svt fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #svt x reader #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fic #Seungcheol #wavelikewhat svt #wavelikewhat

[machatheo]

things they say/do that makes your heart skip a beat (tbz ver.)

genre: fluff, fluff and more fluff

🧸 sangyeon:

“stop! that’s not funny!,” you whine, throwing your head backwards when sangyeon grabs your hand again and puts his own hand against yours.

“no but look at it! your hand is so small compared to mine!,” he laughs. sangyeon has been measuring his hand on yours for quite some time until it made you a bit embarrassed.

“well, you’re a giant, what do you expect..,” you sigh looking away.

“ay don’t be embarrassed now,” he chuckles. you turn to look at him again with a pout, “at least it fits so well in mine,” he sheepishly smiles as he’s intertwining your hands together. “look, it’s as if your hands were made to hold mine.”

☕️ jacob:

the barista puts your coffee cup on the counter, and you move to take it. you smile but it soon fades away when you notice the messy handwriting and at the place what is supposed to be your name… it’s not. “jacob sometimes i really think you’re illiterate or something” you mumble, tracing the writing with your fingers. you look up at the barista, or in this case, your all-time crush. 

“no, i think i wrote it correctly” he shrugs, like he didn’t just scribble down ‘the cutest sunflower’ on the cup.

“i get the cutest part but sunflower...?” you squint your eyes at that. jacob doesn’t look even a tad bit flustered and you’re surprised.

“because sunflowers are my favorite flowers and you’re my favorite person.” he says, and you blink a couple of times to process his words. your cheeks heat up in an instance and you look away. jacob always flirts with you but this one just tops it all.

“whatever jacob, write my name correctly next time!” you say as you scurry away from the counter, fleeting the scene. you definitely look like a bright red tomato right now.

“see you!,” you hear jacob call out with a light chuckle as soon as you step out the café.

🎼 younghoon:

being at the vinyl shop was your favorite time of the day. as you’re looking through the records for something cool and eye catching, you feel a presence next to you.

“did you find anything?,” you ask, looking up at your boyfriend. he’s holding a few records in his hands but a certain one catches your eye and you squeal going straight for it. younghoon lets you take the record out of his hands. “oh my god! you found it!”

younghoon grins as he smiles down at you, gazing at the record of your favorite artist, “i can’t wait to slow dance with you to this when it’s late”

👑 hyunjae:

“hyunjae! sit still! you moving gets in the way of my art!” you whine for the third time that day. you sit cross-legged on the couch while hyunjae sits in front of you on the ground. there’s a bunch of hair ties, clips, ribbons and whatever you name it, laying on your lap.

“now what exact art are you making on top of my head?,” hyunjae turns his head to look at you but you turn it to face forward again.

“don’t move,” you state and hyunjae sighs, keeping his head in place. you continue tying his hair in the most randoms places. honestly, you don’t know what you’re doing yourself but at least it keeps the boredom away. “okay, i am done” you say after some time, patting his head as a finishing touch. hyunjae stands up and stretches, having been sitting on the ground for awhile. you snort when you see him in full glory.

hyunjae glares at you and starts walking to the bathroom. you jump up from the couch and follow him only to break lose in a fit of giggles. hyunjae looks at the questionable hairstyle in the mirror and then looks at you.

“you look so pretty! like a princess!,” you laugh out loud.

“good for you that you’re my girlfriend and i love you too much to get mad at this…” he sways his hands around, trying to think of a better word other than monstrosity,”…masterpiece”

🪄 juyeon:

you bite on your bottom lip, feeling distress creeping up on you while you look at yourself in the mirror. growing up, your parents hammered into your head that having flaws made you unique, yet once you stepped into adulthood, you already managed to fail them. there’s nothing unique about you and now these small flaws made you want to bawl your eyes out.

“you ready?,” juyeon’s head sticks out behind the door, but once he sees you, his eyes grow wide. he steps out from behind the door and your eyes meet in the mirror,” damn, i didn’t know i was dating such a pretty lady.”

you ignore the second statement and only choose to answer the question, “not yet. i think i will put on something else, so wait a bit more”

“huh? why?” juyeon asks, now fully stepping into the room.

“i don’t know, i think i look a bit a fat in this dress,” you shrug and look down, avoiding eye contact and fiddling with your fingers. juyeon seems to finally understand where the problem lays when he walks towards you and places his hands on your shoulders. you look up at the feeling of contact on your skin.

“you don’t look fat, matter of fact this dress fits you perfectly. who cares what other people think, in my eyes you look absolutely beautiful. i wish you saw yourself the way i see you, y/n” he hugs you from behind and you relax into his arms. you nod to yourself, your negative thoughs getting overpowered by his words.

“okay,” you smile at him.

🌱 kevin:

kevin hums for the nth time that day, lost in his own world, playing with your hair while you’re laying down on his chest. it’s so comfy that you’re refusing to get up.

“do you want to just lay here all day?,” you ask, mumbling words into his shirt.

“sounds like heaven,” you feel him shrug. you smile to yourself and snuggle in more.

“you know..,” kevin starts saying and you look up, placing your chin on his chest,” your hair is always so soft after you wash it.”

you playfully roll your eyes at that, “well duh, that’s what’s supposed to happen after i shower.”

“i know i know! but i want to keep running my fingers through your hair for the rest of my life.”

🌔 new / chanhee:

you’re munching on the popcorn while your eyes grow wide at the ongoing scene from the scary movie you’re currently watching. chanhee is next to you and you ignore the fact that he looks visibly scared, but you don’t say anything, knowing he will just protest that he isn’t in the first place. so you contain in your chuckles every time your boyfriend jumps or clutches the blanket too close to his face. sometimes the sudden screeches from your boyfriend scares you more than the movie itself.

you slowly turn to look at him. chanhee sighs, knowing that he can’t keep up this act anymore, “look the movie is really scary but you look so into it, so i don’t want to interrupt your fun and i’m trying my best but- WHAT THE HELL IS THAT”

he screams once again at the unexpected jump scare, kicking under the blanket with his feet and then burying himself under it and now all you can see is just his hair sticking out. you can’t contain your smile and you hug him, “don’t watch it then, you scaredy-cat”

🫧 q / changmin:

you unlock the door of your apartment and quietly walk in, taking off your shoes and dropping your bags on the ground you hear laughter coming from upstairs and you immediately smile, realizing you’re not alone. you creep up the stairs and stop in front one of the rooms. the door is slightly agape, and you stick out your head to see changmin sitting on the chair, facing backwards, and talking to someone on the phone.

“she is truly amazing, she laughs at every joke i say and you do know i am not that funny. and she’s kind and whatever she cooks me is delicious. i honestly fall in love with her every day” he sways in his seat, “you have to meet her, you will also love her because i swear to god, there’s nothing imperfect about y/n.”

you smile once you hear your name and your whole body feels warm.

he continues talking but suddenly spins around in his chair. his mouth opens wide once he notices you. you open the door wider and place your hand on your hip, chuckling to yourself. “uh i will call you later, bye!- hi? how long have you been standing there…?”

“not that long honestly,” you say as you walk towards him, “to who were you bragging so much about me?” a sly smile plasters on your face.

“ugh you were not supposed to hear that!” changmin groans out, placing his phone on the table.

“you’re so cute,” you laugh, “no but actually, who?”

changmin sinks into the chair and hides his face with his hands, “…my mom”

🍦juhaknyeon:

you cheer when you see juhaknyeon walking towards you with two ice cream scones in his hands. it’s summer and it’s so unbearably hot that you both decided that ice cream was a temporary way out from this scorching heat.

“i didn’t know what to get so i asked for their opinion on the best flavor and i am actually disappointed,” juhaknyeon says when he sits down next to you.

“why?” you ask but soon realize why when he holds out the ice cream for you to take. it’s mint chocolate. “oh”

“right?? like how is it the best,” he grumbles when you take the ice cream. juhaknyeon has a love hate relationship with everything mint chocolate flavor related, except that there’s no love in there. he absolutely despises it.

you sit and stare at the ice cream, wondering how you should tell him that the feeling towards this flavor is mutual. you reluctantly lick a stripe of the given ice cream and immediately grimace, which doesn’t go unnoticed. “… don’t tell me,” juhaknyeon turns and stares at you.

you squeeze out a small smile and slowly nod your head, watching how quickly juhaknyeon’s expression changes.

“don’t worry about it, i will still eat it,” you brush it away.

“no no, that’s absolutely unacceptable,” he protests and soon the ice cream you’ve been holding gets replaced with juhaknyeon’s.

“but you hate it, juhaknyeon, probably more than me,” you state.

“no i would rather die than watch you eat something you don’t like, i will win this battle against mint chocolate for the better,” juhaknyeon holds out his fist as if threatening the said flavor and you laugh.

“you silly, i will buy you another one so don’t eat this”

🧩 sunwoo:

being in a room full of new people, you try your best and go out of your comfort zone to socialize with others. it’s been fun but something feels off.

“what’s up?,” you ask when you feel a certain man press to your side. you glance at sunwoo, who’s eyes are racing through each and every person in the room.

“you’re the only person in the room that i know so i’m going to stick with you,” he mutters and you don’t fail to catch some anxiety in his voice. 

“aw, of course,” you smile to yourself and nod. warmth engulfs you.

“that means i will follow you everywhere and pester you about everything,” he states, looking straight into your eyes.

“okay-” 

“no but like i will also annoy you,” he doesn’t let you finish and you’re not sure where this conversation is going anymore. you nod again to make sure he knows it’s fine with you but sunwoo parts his mouth again, “like you will not get rid of me.”

you lightly roll your eyes and want to face-palm, “you know what, let’s go meet some new people,” you pull him towards a small crowd while sunwoo doesn’t miss to immediately whine about it.

🛹eric:

“you’ve got this!,” eric cheers you on as he watches you try and balance yourself on his skateboard without him holding you. your eyes grow wary when you misplace your foot and suddenly lose control. before eric can process the situation, you fall down knees first onto the ground.

“ouch,” you wince at the impact while watching the skateboard roll away from you two. eric rushes to you to make sure you’re okay.

“oh god, i should’ve held your hands,” he shakes his head as he crouches down next to you, “are you okay?”

you nod your head, pulling up one of your legs to your chest when you feel some kind of pain. there’s a bruise forming on your knee and you sigh. it’s nothing big but eric is in shambles, “calm down, i am not dying,” you laugh.

eric bends down and suddenly you feel his lips on the exact spot of your bruise. he places a chaste kiss and backs away, “huh?” you glance at him.

“you know that saying, an apple a day keeps the doctor away?,” he asks and you nod, still quite confused to where this is going, “well now it’s: a kiss on the wound keeps the pain away.”

you can’t help but snort and laugh at his words that still simultaneously makes your heart flutter. eric helps you stand up and goes to fetch the skateboard that has already disappeared from your sight.

#writing this made me giggle #the boyz fluff #the boyz #the boyz imagine #the boyz scenarios #tbz #the boyz sangyeon #the boyz hyunjae #the boyz sunwoo #the boyz jacob #the boyz juhaknyeon #the boyz younghoon #the boyz kevin #the boyz q #the boyz chanhee #the boyz new #the boyz changmin #the boyz eric #the boyz juyeon #sunwoo fluff #hyunjae fluff #chanhee fluff #eric fluff #juhaknyeon fluff #jacob fluff #sangyeon fluff #changmin fluff #younghoon fluff #juyeon fluff

[kaeyas-beloved]

☕️ with my boy Kaeya

I think you mean OUR boy Kaeya 🤨/lh/j also I’m McCrying over the ending cause I don’t think it’s the best but it is what it is :(( (still a little salty over this not saving so I had to rewrite the ending 😭)

CWs: gn!reader

Acts of service prompts: open!

[ ☕️ ] - memorising how they take their tea/coffee and making it for them without being asked

If there was one thing Kaeya hated more than waking up on a workday, it was waking up with the sun glaring in his beautiful, heterochromatic eyes.

A low groan rumbled from his throat, eyes squinting shut as he rolled over, burying his head in his pillow. What a cruel world he lives in, forced to work when all he wants is to remain in bed with you. However, the responsible part of him knew he had to get up, but that didn’t stop him from reaching over to cuddle with you for just five more minutes.

Though when his bare hand went to search for you and was met with cold sheets his head snapped up from the pillow, eyes wide. You’d always lay with him until he woke up, so your absence was like a splash of cold water. Just where could you have-?

“Morning sleepyhead,” a voice called out, light in volume and sweet to the ear. Immediately, his gaze is drawn over to the bedroom door where you stand, still in your pyjamas. Kaeya hadn’t realized until then how tense his shoulders were, but now that you’d returned within sight his muscles relaxed, body sinking back into the mattress.

He looks at you with this gorgeous, sleepy smile and hums in response. His gaze trails your form as you make your way over to his side of the bed, taking a seat on the edge. 

“It’s a good morning indeed, now that you’re here.” Like moments before he reaches out for you, hand splaying along your leg and giving it a tiny squeeze.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you offer a smile in return nonetheless, “oh Kaeya…  sweetheart, love of my life, you’re such a flirt, even bright and early.”

“But you enjoy it, don’t you?” You laugh, nodding with your agreement. How could you not? He means every compliment he says to you.

Amidst the tender scene (and the act of staring at your content expression), Kaeya spots something new, “what’s that you got there?” Shuffling a little so he can sit up, he tilts his head in hopes to spot the contents of the mug, “coffee?”

“Mhm, for you.” You offer the porcelain, his large hands meeting and wrapping around yours as he takes it, “two and half scoops of sugar and a splash of milk - just the right amount of sweetness - just how you like it.”

There’s a second where you miss the warmth of the cup and your lovers hands, the heat lingering on your own, but when you spot the blank look on Kaeya’s face it’s like all the heat in your body leaves you.

He just stares at the cup, hair falling over his shoulder and creating a curtain to hide some of his face. The silence is worrying and your mouth opens and closes as you search for anything to say, “if… if it’s not how you like I can go make you-”

Your worries are cut off by his quiet mumbles. “Say that again my love?”

“Just how I… like it?” Kaeya tears his gaze away from the rippling coffee, eyes staring up at your confused face. You are the first person in such a long time to make him something to help start his day. The last time someone did was… a very long time ago.

Slowly his lips quirk into a smile, the softest one he’s had all morning, “thank you. I really appreciate it.”

The breath you’ve been holding leaves you as you lean forward and capture the captain’s lips with your own. When you go to back away you can’t help but giggle just a little at Kaeya chasing after you, “Of course, anything for you. Plus, I know you’re not a big fan of mornings.”

“You know me too well, from my dislikes all the way to how I like my kisses,” something a little more teasing coats his tone with his next words, “so that means you know I need no less than three more kisses from you before I head off to work. Will you help a man in need and let him have another one now?”

You laugh again and, never one to say no to him and a kiss, you go back for another, lingering longer than last time. Setting the mug out of the way, Kaeya pulls you closer to him, pouring all the love he can into this one sign of affection. And when air becomes a necessity, your lover tugs you into a hug instead, hoping to convey in this embrace all he wants to. Thank you, I love you.

He’ll repay this kindness and love, he swears it. For now though, he’ll stick to enjoying what you’ve given him. He’d hate for your work to go to waste.

Maybe, just maybe, mornings are okay, but only if you’re apart of it.

Tag list: @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kaerui-kaisen // @ajaxstar // @genshin-impact-writings // @stage-lucida // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs // @leena-shi // @lemontum // @akiria12167 // @ari-the-wr1ter // @dontmindmebeing // @xiaos-wif3 // @irethepotato // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @x-zho // @kaeyaloml

. . .

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#kaeya x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaeya x gender neutral reader #genshin kaeya #genshin kaeya x reader #genshin impact #genshin fluff

[eleganzadellarosa]

Coffee Kisses ☕️ | Part 1

pairing: barista!kyungsoo x poc reader (ft. Baekhyun)

genre: fluff (if you do a spin and blink), smut, angst

warnings: MDNI (masturbation (m), mentions of oral sex and penetration), fast paced plot

word count: 4.6k+

A/N: This is going to be a two part fic, this first part being from Kyungsoo’s POV and the second from the reader’s. As always, enjoy and thanks for reading :)

taglist: @sleepingbeautydo

part 2 here

Grind the beans, dose, tamp, purge, pull and pour. It was so much of a habit now that I knew it like the back of my hand; could do it with my eyes closed. Everyone has something they’re good at and for me it’s anything related to coffee. For someone who doesn’t drink it often, espressos are my favorite to make simply because of how precise you have to be with each step to ensure the perfect cup. It makes me feel like a master at work, something I can actually brag about even though I would never.

I love walking in every morning to start my day with the smell of the assortment of coffee beans. It keeps me awake during my shifts, caffeinating my senses with each whiff. But she, she was the highlight of my day. The excitement from hearing the bells chime above the door just to see her figure walk through. I’ve never known for my heart to beat so fast around anyone and to grow a blush on my cheeks immediately, my face so red that it spreads to my ears. Thankfully I’m successful from hiding it from her so she doesn’t notice.

"Hi Kyungsoo!"

Her voice and smile have to be the deadliest combination, just the way she says my name makes it feel exotic, fun, seductive. She easily remembered it after a few days of consistently seeing it on my name tag. I hope she didn’t catch me staring before the cat let go of my tongue.

“Hey, how are you? I’ll have your order ready in a bit.”

I knew what she wanted, why wouldn’t I? Her ability to stick to routine made it easier but even if she ordered something different off the menu each time I would know before she uttered a word. I shouldn’t be so consumed by her presence, yet every time she’s around, the perfection I’ve practiced gets clammy and slips through my fingers. My body was no longer on autopilot, her drink HAD to be perfect; the right amount of everything so I could get that gold star.

While waiting for her order to be ready, I reward myself with glances her way as she waits patiently. I’ve been lied to all my life about what angels look like because they never describe her. Skin brown like the coffee beans I brew every day, eyes like the sun setting upon the sand and hair fluffy like the inside of a castella cake. No exaggeration to say she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. If only I had the courage to tell her that since my lingering glances don’t do the job.

I cherish the split second my fingers brush against hers as I hand her the cup. She flashes me another prize winning smile that never fails to take my breath away. I can’t help but feel like a stalker with the way I watch her walk back to her table to take the first sip. The way she closes her eyes and a small smile spreads across her face like she’s in complete bliss. I wonder if her expression would be the same if my head was between her legs. Shit, I can’t think like that if I don't want an obvious tent in my pants.

“Umm excuse me, do you have alternative milks available?”

Oh right, I have other customers beside her that I have to tend to. It’s dumb how upset I get when I can’t follow her every movement but she’s my favorite show to watch and now I’m starting to think my job is getting in the way; yet it's the only channel where she's available. The middle of the week was usually pretty slow but of course on the day I could fill my day with nothing but her existence, the flood of people come rushing in. I’m obviously not the only employee here but it feels like it when I want to hurry and get everyone gone to go back to my favorite pastime.

Like clockwork, she always leaves 30 minutes after she finishes her coffee and I never have anything to say or do to make her stay; which in turn is one of my biggest downfalls. Why am I such a pussy when it comes to her? I want her so badly yet I can’t say anything off script. Instead of leaving immediately, she was coming back up to the counter. A break in routine? Something had to be up. I smiled at her, maybe a little too happily but she smiles back with just as much shine. I almost had the chance to break free from my monotonous dialogue but the customer in front of me finally speaks up to order.

Fuck, such a missed chance. Her eyes were sad but understanding and she waved before leaving out the door. I switched off with another worker as soon as I finished the order so I can take my break, hopefully catching her outside before she walks too far. To my disappointment, she was nowhere in sight no matter how far I looked in each direction. Fate was so cruel giving me the opportunity but not enough time to change my life for what I know would be the better.

Whatever she wanted to tell me had to be important as I haven’t seen her in weeks. I could only hope she was okay but I had no way of contacting her, something I could only blame myself for. I waited everyday for her but she never came and every cup of espresso I made felt pointless. Where was she? What did she want to tell me? It was time to clock out and taking the apron off made me want to quit altogether. I felt a hand tap me on my shoulder before I made it out the back.

“Hey Kyungsoo, listen I need to talk to you about something important. You’ve been here the longest and you’re my best barista so I figured I should tell you first.”

My boss. He was chill overall, teaching me some of the skills that I possess today. He’s what I’d call a father figure if my father wasn’t a big part of my life already. “Thank you for thinking of me first. What’s going on?”

He takes a deep breath and sighs loudly so I know the next words are going to be bad news. “I’m selling the cafe. I’m getting older and I’m ready to retire. I wanted to pass it down to you but I never got the chance to talk to you and I have way too much debt to pay back and wouldn’t want to put that on you.”

It was in fact bad news and not even because I was sad about losing my job. I was losing the only connection I had with her and I wasn’t able to tell her. “W-what? When? How much time do we have left?”

“Well I’ve already sold it, I didn’t have much time to decide before the buyer called off the deal. We’re closing next month. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner sport.”

Hah, calling me sport after giving me the worst news of my life. Such a parent thing to do. I didn’t have a say so in this, I definitely didn’t have the money to keep this business afloat and to be honest I’d only really want it just to have the chance of seeing her again. If I wasn't afraid of the way I'd be judged, I'd cry right now just to release all the anger I've accumulated in the last 3 minutes.

The drive home felt like an endless road, the thoughts running through my head making it hard for me to keep track of time. It's times like these that I wish I could call her and vent and be comforted by the warm tone of her voice. I fucked up badly and it hurts knowing there's no one else to blame.

I hung my coat on the rack next to the front door and dragged myself over to the couch to flop down onto it face first. There had to be some way I could find out who she is just to let her know that the cafe wouldn't be here much longer; that I wouldn't be there much longer. I tried and tried to think but every plan fell through right into the shredder. I felt like I was being laughed at for not excusing myself and finding out what she wanted to say to me. The one day that she was actually going to say something different, I did the polite thing. Whatever. I still had a month left to wait for her, to see her again, to speak to her again. All I could do now was hope she actually showed up.

This was it, the last day open for business. I had already grown tired of telling everyone why we were closing especially since I didn’t get to tell the most important person. Was she really gone for good? Did I really miss my chance to talk to her and build a relationship outside of this cafe? It felt weird knowing this would be my last time wiping down the tables, mopping the floor, coming to a place that felt like a second home. I reluctantly locked the door and changed the sign from open to closed. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the glass, I looked pitiful. I was desperate, if she came to the door right now, I’d unlock it in a heartbeat.

She never came.

My boss came and patted me on the shoulder before he told me it was time to go. "Sorry sport, gotta turn these lights out, it's time to lock up for good."

I grabbed my stuff and made sure my locker was empty before following him out. One last look around the cafe and the gate was pulled down as if I was closing my eyes. Doing that alone already made it look abandoned. I tried again to rack my brain for any way that I could let her know where I was and how to contact me, but once again there was nothing I could do.

I walked to my car and made sure the boss got to his safely. He turned around before getting in. "Hey uh Kyungsoo, wait just a sec." He walked over to me and swallowed the lump in his throat before hugging me tight. "Don't become a stranger, you have my number."

"Don't worry Frank, I won't forget about you. Thank you for everything."

He nodded and patted me on the back before we each went out separate ways.

I no longer had to set my alarm so early and having so much time on my hands felt like a crime. My life had no purpose besides finding her and telling her exactly how I felt but even that dream seems far fetched. I started drinking more coffee, having a cup every day just to feel something; just to get a spark of energy.

I realized how I never developed any other hobbies besides making coffee now that I was no longer doing it. I guess this is why people endlessly scroll on social media and to be honest I didn't have the energy to do anything else. Unfortunately for me, my entertainment was cut short when my phone started ringing, the name "Baekhyun" flashing at the top. I'm sure if I rolled my eyes any harder they would have fallen out my head. Baekhyun is a very close friend of mine, but I knew why he was calling and I was over the conversation before it even started.

Reluctantly I answered it, waiting for his high pitched voice on the other end. "Kyungsoo~" he said in a sing-songy voice, already getting me upset before he reveals the reason for his call.

"What do you want Baek?"

"That's not how you speak to a friend who has something you want."

"Something I want?" I didn't expect much from him, but I was curious what he found interesting enough to think I wanted it. "What is it?"

"See, I knew you'd be curious! But first are you still sad over that girl from the cafe?"

I can't help but scoff hearing him say what I knew was true, but coming from him made it sound like he interrupted me from digging my grave as we spoke. "I have some regrets...just tell me what it is Baek."

I could hear him lowly chuckle on the other end and now I was starting to get annoyed with his confidence. I’ve known Baekhyun for years know, I consider him a good friend but now I’m rethinking my decision.

“What if I told you, I found your precious jewel?”

My ears perked up at the word precious. “Why are you talking about?”

“I happen to know someone who knows her and now I have an IG you can stalk.”

My heart was racing, more so than I’d have liked. But knowing that I finally had a way to contact the love of my life excites me in ways I couldn’t describe.

“What the hell Baek? How do you even know what she looks like?” I questioned him but it was more so for me to stall. Did I actually want to know what she’s been up to? Why she chose to leave in the first place?

“Stop asking so many questions! Do you want it or not?”

“Wha- I-I mean I guess so?”

He sucked his teeth, telling me he already sent me the info and to take advantage of it before hanging up. I couldn’t help but stare at the message containing the change to my fate. My fingers were shaking just opening the app so I could search her up. I found it without me being finished typing. Surprisingly her account was public, any pair of eyes able to see the goods. She’s absolutely gorgeous and seeing a new side of her only made me love her more. Once again, I felt like a creep just mindlessly scrolling through her pictures.

Then, like a thorn on a rose, there was a picture of her with some guy. I shouldn't feel jealous but I do. He has his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Harmless right? The captions showing three confetti popper emojis. Could it symbolize an anniversary? A birthday? She tagged him in the post but his account was private so there was no way I could continue to snoop and find out who this guy was. Maybe I was thinking about this too deeply. And hell, who's to say that I would even have a chance with her. Just wishful thinking I suppose.

Baekhyun was calling me again like he could hear me doubting myself. "What Baek?"

"Oh I'm sorry, did I interrupt your stalking?" I could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Hey I'm not stalking her, this is my first time being on her page."

"Sure suuure buddy, whatever you wanna call it. Are you gonna message her?"

It didn't cross my mind that way. I could actually "slide into her DMs" and talk to her. Would she want to talk to me? What if that is her boyfriend and I just end up making myself look stupid? "I-I don't know..."

"Ahh come on Kyungsoo, you're right there man, all you gotta do is hit her up. I'm sure if she had something to tell you that day, she wouldn't mind telling you now."

"What if she has a boyfriend?" I dazed myself with the question and I bit the nail on my thumb trying to shake the nervousness out of my system.

"A boyfriend? Hmm...I mean then she has a boyfriend, but at least you can find out now instead of letting this go on forever. If you like her, just make it known and see where it gets you."

He was right, but I couldn't accept the rejection if it came down to it. She was the light in a dark tunnel and I would hate for it to be blocked off. For now I could just follow her and see if she followed me back. My sweaty finger pressed onto the follow button and I wanted to throw my phone just so I didn’t have to see what happened next.

It had been going on a few months now and still no follow back. I would occasionally check to see if she posted but she never did. It almost felt like she didn't just so she wouldn't have to interact with me. I felt stupid, stupid for allowing myself to fall in love so quickly and be so hasty with everything. If she were to ever show her face again, I hope to get even a little bit of an explanation.

I had found another job working at a different cafe, but of course it didn't feel the same. Today was my only day off for the week and I decided to finally give in to Baekhyun's begging and pleading to hang with him and a few friends at a bar. It wasn't a typical bar, it felt more like a restaurant with a bar attached to it, but the piss drunk guys that left would probably say otherwise. Baek's shoulder bumped into mine and I looked over at him to see he looked like he was waiting for me to say something.

"Sorry, what?" Maybe the drinks were getting to me and I just hadn’t noticed.

"I said, this is the friend that knows the girl from the cafe."

My face felt warm and I wanted to hide in a corner. Why'd he have to put me on the spot like that? It made me sound like a crazy person. "Oh, really? Nice to meet you." I tried to sound as calm as possible but knowing me, my face or ears were red with embarrassment.

The guy leaned over to shake my hand. His grip was firm and his hands were kind of big. Actually he was kind of big. I didn't pay him much mind before now, but boy was this dude tall.

"Nice to meet you too, Kyungsoo right? I'm Chanyeol."

He had a mouth full of teeth and when he smiled, all of them showed so easily. He seemed bubbly just like Baek, which is probably why they're friends. His head would fall back and he would hit the person next to him every time he laughed. The jokes weren't even that funny, but then again, he's been downing his drinks like they're water.

"So, Kyungsoo, I heard you got ignored." Baekhyun shot him a death glare, and punched him in the arm making him wince.

I'm going to fucking kill you Baekhyun I said in my mind but showed with my gritted teeth and clenched jaw. "If you wanna put it that way, sure."

"Well I wouldn't say you got ghosted because I haven't spoken to her either. She's been kind of MIA. I mean we didn't talk too often, but she hasn't responded to any of the messages I sent her."

I was hopeful again but this time I didn't want to get too ahead of myself. Knowing she wasn't active with anyone made it a lot better for me but it also made me worry. "Maybe she's just spending a lot of time with her boyfriend."

"Her boyfriend? She's single...haha oh dude, you must have seen that picture with her and her best friend. Trust me, he's far from a boyfriend. She probably just had to go back to the states for something. I'm sure she'll be back."

Well, that's a relief. She doesn't have a boyfriend but there's no guarantee she'd be back here to see me. "Wait, how'd you know she's the girl I was talking about?" This question has always lingered in the back of my mind but I just trusted Baek enough to give me the right information.

"Uh probably because she's mentioned you so many times before? She would only go to that cafe to see you, she doesn't even like coffee unless you make it. I wasn't sure you were who she was talking about until Baek told me which cafe you worked at and mentioned you were the "bald guy who makes espressos."

Before I could even protest, Baek rubbed his hands together apologetically. None of that mattered right now, I couldn't dwell on the anger. She only liked the coffee that I made her? What a way to make a guy's dick hard, or mine at least. And the fact that I was on her mind too didn't make it any better for the blood rushing to my lower half. "What? She came in there every day, there's no way she came in to just see me."

"No, I'm pretty sure that's the reason. She kept trying to make me come with her just to get a cup but no offense, I'm not into espressos like that. She also said something about you being really cute and always so ready to take her order. I think she has a crush on you man, trust me she doesn't talk about any other guy like that."

Now I really felt the heat in my face. Maybe the alcohol was kicking in because my head felt dizzy too. Maybe I needed to put the drinks down. A conversation has never gotten me so excited, but I've also never spoken to her besides taking her order so we'll stick a pin in it for now. As much as I wanted it to, it didn't give me the confidence to try and message her, especially since she doesn't seem to be logged in anymore. Now all I could do was pray that she came back just so I could have the chance to speak to her one more time. I wouldn't be too shy this time, I would actually tell her how I felt and ask her out on a date.

By the time I got back home, my head was pounding, all the drinks I consumed finally catching up to me. Flopping onto the bed on my stomach, my head filled with nothing but thoughts of her. Was she actually attracted to me or did I just make good coffee? I mean both could be taken as a compliment but I could care less how she felt about my espressos. The intoxication made me horny to the point that I felt like I'd explode if I didn't do something about it.

I rushed to lay on my back and release my dick from the jeans I wore, pressure noticeably getting better no longer constricted by the fabric. The tip leaked viciously, indicating just how lewd my thoughts were becoming. The blood rushed back to the aching length when I wrapped my warm hand around it, only increasing the sticky substance.

It felt good, to imagine it was her hand instead of mine. I could only dream of what it would be like seeing her sitting in front of me in nothing but a lacy set, perfect hands engulfing my shaft enjoying every second our skin made contact. It was becoming all too much, the sweat accumulating on my forehead and neck.

I pumped my hand faster and thought of her more and more as I started to remove the last pieces of fabric that shielded her from nudity. Soon she was in nothing but her skin, more beautiful than she was just a few seconds ago. She paused her movements only to drape a legs over my waist and position herself so that she was aligned perfectly with the angry red head.

Slowly…slowly…she eased her way down and before I could reach the deepest depths of her, I snapped out of my thoughts, body tensing up viciously, slightly shaking. I made a mess. My hands covered in the white liquid that also landed on my chest and stomach. It made me realize it’s been quite some time since I had some alone time with myself. Well now this shirt had to go in the wash along with my jeans.

On the way back from the laundry room I had to ask myself what I was doing. There’s no point of using her as a thought to push me over the edge if our future was still undetermined. I now sat on the bed in just my boxers feeling guilty about thinking about her like that. I was too caught up in my feelings and luckily I could blame most of it on the alcohol.

It would be hard but I had to be patient and wait it out. Please return to me is all I could ask for as I fell back against my pillow and closed my eyes for the night.

It's been a year now. A year since I've last seen her and it's safe to say I've given up. No one has spoken to her that I know of and for all I know, she could never plan on coming back. Things were going well for me at my new job though, I was promoted to manager within the first 6 months and I've been giving everyone pointers on how to make the best drinks. There was of course a sense of happiness I felt being in my element again but I wish I could go back and try again. No one has made me as happy as she did and it was snatched away from me before I had the chance to savor it, but in my defense I never knew it would be gone.

It was almost time for me to clock out, much needed as the day was quite busy. "Hey, I'm getting ready to head out. You got everything covered yeah?" I was confident the new girl knew what she was doing but I wanted her to feel confident in herself. She gave me a bright smile and thumbs up but I could tell there was still some doubt there.

On days like these, I walk and sit at the bus stop before going home. It sounds crazy because I don't ever actually get on, it just brings me a sense of comfort that I can't explain. The bus is right on time, as always. The driver is used to me now, giving me a knowing nod of his head before closing the big glass doors and pulling off. The next bus should be coming in 15 minutes and I had no problem waiting.

As clear as the sky was 5 minutes ago, I didn’t expect for rain to be pouring down right now. But I should be used to things not going the way I imagined. The next bus pulled up and I almost ran up to the window. Right before my very eyes was the one and only princess herself. I couldn’t believe it, I waited a whole year to see her again and here she was casually riding the bus I watched drive by almost everyday.

My heartbeat thumped in my ears, telling me to be brave and take the chance. She hasn’t even looked to her side yet, headphones over her ears obviously distracting her from the real world. It was time to make up for what I didn’t do one year ago. Courageously, I stood from where I sat and rushed onto the bus, just to stand at the front with my chest heaving as if I ran a marathon, my clothes halfway drenched.

She looked up, her eyes squinting before that gorgeous smile spread across her face. That has to be a good sign right? She quickly removed the headphones from her ears and stood up. I hurriedly walked over to her as she almost fell against the seats in front of her from how quickly she tried to move in between them. Thankfully, I caught her arm and helped her stand upright.

Just as I thought, a simple touch still sent electric through the tips of my fingers. She’s even more beautiful than I remembered. Like a flashback, I was standing there staring at her unable to say anything, so she spoke up for me instead.

“Kyungsoo…is that you?”

#exo kyungsoo #exo smut #exo #exo do #exo do kyungsoo #kyungsoo smut #kyungsoo x reader

[seungsluvv]

~Don’t be shy hyung~

lee!minho | ler!hyunjin

tw: tank top, tickle fic, feel free to scroll if this is not your cup of tea! ☕️

it was in the late afternoon and hyunjin was at his dorm, he felt in the mood to do some art. He happily got out all of his art supplies: paint brushes, acrylic paint, newspaper, etc. The dancer was thinking of painting something linked to nature. After a while he decided that he was gonna paint a blossom tree. Knowing how forgetful he is, he didn’t know where his canvas was. He looked everywhere, in the bedroom, the lounge, the garden; he couldn’t find it anywhere.

“Ugh, where is it!” hyunjin shouted in anger as he couldn’t find it. “I could have sworn I saw it earlier!”

“what you doing, jinnie?” Lee know walked into the room seeing his hyung stressed. He could see the frustration in his eyes. The dancer used his canvas the majority of his time, it was really precious to him.

“Oh you’re looking for your canvas? Is there anything I can do to help, hyung?” Lee know walked towards his hyunjin when he looked him directly in his eyes and smirked.

“Nah it’s okay. Sit down, I’ll give you a massage instead!” the rapper dragged the poor quokka down onto the couch where all his art supplies were.

“Wait! H-hold on! Why me? Can’t y-you do someone else?” the older whined because he didn’t want to be painted on, or because he had a secret he didn’t want him to find out...

“Oh, stop whining, it’s relaxing. You’ll just fall asleep” jinnie laughed as he looked at the rabbit sighing. “It wont take long, just lie down for me, will you?”

“Hyung! ugh…fine” the vocalist took off his sweater - he had a tank top on - and closed his eyes; let him sit on his back and begin massaging him. Hyunjin went for his shoulders first. The cat started to jolt a bit when the younger got near to his left side.

“Jeez, caha you keheep still? You’re moving soho much!” hyunjin warmly laughed as minho was trying his best not to move and to let out his laugh.

“y-yeh wehell its kihinda hard.” The older mumbled giggling a bit which caught the attention of jinnie. “Im t-trying my behest!”

“hang on, are you…ticklish?” Lee know dreaded for this moment to come. He hurried his head into his hands. Jinnie couldn’t find out he was ticklish, he’s one of the biggest lers in the group! “Lino…are you ignoring me?” The rapper poked the vocalists side which let out a little cute squeal.

“hyunjin-AH, I’m not tick-LISH.” hyunjin laughed as he started to jab him hardly all over his sides and the older started to shout.

“PLEHEHEASE STOHOHOHOP, NOHOho MOHOhore i sahahaid.” he couldn’t turn around to grab ahold of the rappers wrists because he was stuck with jinnie sitting in his back. All he could do is laugh and beg for him to stop. He throw his face into the pillow on the couch and laughed hysterically.

“Are you ticklish anywhere else, kitty?~” hyunjin teased him which made him blush. No one usually makes him blush.

“Why would I tehell yohohou?”

“Because otherwise this will happen…” he lightly touched where his neck was exposed. “Will you let me tickle you here? Or are you going to resist and I’ll have to torture you?”

The rabbits eyes lit up with terror as his neck was really sensitive. But he didn’t want to be tortured so he let the younger do what he wanted to do. “Ugh! Your so annoying, fine…just don’t over do it! You know how sensitive I am..” the ferret lingered a smile on his face and started.

He really, really slowly tickled his neck and the older groaned. The younger was getting bored of his hyung staying silent so he did something which would hopefully make the vocalist non-silent. He used his fingers and stroked up and down his sides which gave the older goosebumps and made him giggle a bit.

“mhmhmhmhmhm, whahat are yohou do-doing?” lee know tried to obtain his giggles as the tickle sensations were overcoming his sides.

“Is there anything you’d like to say, hyung?” Hyunjin teased him again

“justdontgotomyunderarms itsmyworstspot-“

the rabbit blurted out without realizing what was going to happen next. The dancer had an idea. he spider crawled up his hyungs sides and used both his index and middle fingers and began to quickly massage his underarms. Lee know gripped the head bar tightly and started to laugh hysterically.

“Plehehehease, quhihihihit it. Ihihihits soho bahahahad!”~

“Your the one who can take your arms down off the bar and protect yourself but your not.” Jinnie wheezed at him which made lee know laugh louder.

“DOHOHONT LAUGH LIHIHIKE THAT. IT M-MAKES THE TIHIHICKINGWOHOHORSE.” hyunjin thought to himself that his hyung was being weird that he didn’t protect himself whilst he was attacking him. Surely he didn’t…enjoy being tickled? The ferret decided to stop and lino a question whilst he heavily panted.

“Hyung? Do you enjoy being tickled?” he asked vaguely

“Uhm… I don’t know..?” he said quietly and cutely.

“Don’t be shy hyung! If you do it’s not a big deal!” the rapper confidently spat out as if hopefully he would get an answer.

“okay.. yeah. I’ll admit it..I do…, also - can I turn to my back? My neck hurts.” jinnie got off of him and then quickly sat back on top of his stomach which made his hyung nervous again. He pinned his arms above his head but wasn’t going to do anything, he just wanted to tease his hyung.

“Don’t you think about it- HWANG HYUNJIN, IM TELLING YOHOHO RIGHT NOW DOHOHONT.” the kitty started laughing shouting which made hyunjin too weak from laughing to have the strength to keep Lino pinned down. “Dohohont tease me like thahat!” He started to drill his hands into his torso.

“WAIHIHIHIHIT IM SOHOHOHOHORY, HYUHUHUHUNG.” and so the war was on…

#kpop #stray kids #skz #lee know #stray kids tickle #cute #kpop fyp #kpop tickle #hyunjin #tickletober #skz x tickles #tickle fic #hyung #don’t be shy #viral

[itsoutrageouss]

Hey if you still takes request, and if it's not too much trouble for you to write, can you do one where the reader (gender neutral) is the older sibling of Dustin and they just hit one year anniversary of ED (abnormal anorexia) free but no one seems to remember except Eddi who prepared a nuce dinner for them to celebrate ?

My family just ignored me all day and I just want someone to be proud of me...

a/n: we’re all proud of you here sweetheart <3 also hi I’m still alive i think so.

warning: mentions of ED, Wayne and Eddie being the best thing ever

word count: 1k ish

pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader

Don’t cry yet - e. m.

—☕️

It’s not like you expected a parade in your honor or anything, but a little

Hey, congratulations!

Or

I’m so proud of you,

would’ve been nice. Instead you find Dustin already halfway out the door when you and your fuzzy socks pad into the kitchen.

“Hey! Morning! Uh- goodbye!” He says distractedly before slinging a backpack over his shoulder and slamming the door, much to your mothers dismay.

He was probably just busy, you figured. He’d remember sooner or later.

“Have any plans today, sweetie?” Your mom asked from the couch where she was automatically knitting away on whatever project. Her smile was genuine and innocent. They’d forgotten. Maybe you were foolish to think it was even a big deal.

Still you hummed as you made a bowl of cereal- content that you could do this now with no feelings of shame or fear. Still it didn’t feel like much of an achievement when no one was there to support your growth.

The day went by silently for you, and when none of your friends came by, when no one called, you curled back up in bed, furiously wiping away the few tears you’d let spill.

—☕️

Meanwhile eddie was scrambling around the tiny kitchen of the trailer with Wayne.

“I’ve never seen you this worked up over dinner before, kid” Wayne mused as he watched his nephew chaotically trying to stop the pasta from boiling over and not letting the chopped onions burn to coal.

“Well it’s a big deal today. They deserve this,” he replied, eyes never leaving the pots and pans in front of him, his tongue sticking out in concentration.

“Here, like this,” Wayne said, placing his beer on whatever space was free on the counter before taking the wooden spoon from eddies hands to help him along. He showed him how to go about it before going back to observing with an amused smile.

Eddies face was burning from the heat, curls sticking to his temple and neck. Wayne tsk’ed at him: “all this hair, son. You can’t see shit,” he snickered before retrieving a hair tie from somewhere between the couch cushions. Eddie bent down slightly in the knees so Wayne could reach all his hair, tying it back in a low bun for him.

“Thanks man,” he laughed, eyes beaming at the thought of seeing your face again. Your smile when he’d proudly present his dinner to you, when he’d watch you eat, more carefree than ever.

—☕️

You jumped, nearly falling out of bed at the sound of the phone ringing. You scrambled to get to it. It didn’t even matter if it was for you, any kind of interaction was greatly appreciated.

“Hello?” You asked, voice hoarse from not being used all day.

“Hey you,” Eddies familiar voice hits your ears and it gives you instant comfort. There’s a tiny speck of hope flickering in the wholeness of your heart, nervously licking against the walls whenever he spoke to you.

“How’s your day been?” He asks, but almost hurriedly like he has more to say. You had temporarily forgotten about the neglect you’d felt all day, so you give him a blunt ‘fine’ without more explanation. He hums distractedly and you feel your heart sink, believing he’s forgotten too.

“So listen I uh.. I got a surprise for you, kind of- well it’s dinner. I made dinner. I know it’s like only four but I started wayyy too early and now it’s just waiting so I thought why the fuck not just get you over here, right now.”

He always rambled when he was nervous. You hadn’t even noticed the giant grin that spread on your face, heating your cheeks.

“For me?” You whispered after a beat of silence. You were biting the tip of your finger in an attempt not to cry or laugh- you didn’t even know how to react.

“For you.” He said softly.

—☕️

When you arrived at the trailer, Wayne was on his way to work his night shift. “There you are! You have no idea how much that boy tried not to mess up the food- tell him you like it no matter what will ya? He really cares for you.” He said casually with a hinting smile. The sentient made your chest tighten in the best way possible. To think he spent all day working so hard doing something he hates just for you and your accomplishment. He made you feel so seen.

“I promise, Mr. Munson. Thank you.” You replied.

Eddie rushed out the door when he heard your voice, nearly stumbling over his own feet. His hair was in a loose bun, curly strands framing his face and plastering to his neck.

Before you could greet him he lifted you up into a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you” he grumbled into the crevice of your neck before setting you down and pulling you into the trailer by your hand. His words hugged your entire soul, and you couldn’t even thank him before tears welled in your eyes;

The small dining tables had an old cloth covering it, with two mismatched plates of your favorite pasta dish and canned bear in plastic wine cups.

“Voila” he laughs sheepishly, nervous that you’d find his gesture silly or stupid. It wasn’t very formal, the food maybe wasn’t the best but he really tried, and given your response earlier it seemed no one had celebrated you today which made his heart clench.

“The uhh, onions kind of burned. I know you don’t like wine so I hope this beer will do, and-“

You walked over to where he was standing and hugged him so tightly, trying to convey every single ounce of gratitude into it. He stood silent first, stiff, but quickly melted into your touch, his palm gently on your head where you hid in his chest.

“I love it, Eddie. I love it.” You said with a groggy voice, tears soaking into the material of his shirt. He squeezed you tighter, planting a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Now don’t cry before you’ve tasted it allright.” He muttered, and you couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped you.

The food was bordering on really good, and the beer was definitely better than wine. You spent the rest of the evening talking, eating and drinking, with Eddie telling you how proud he was over and over again.

I don’t know how to end this fic I just love him too much. They lived happily ever after guys.

#eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie munson x you #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfic #joseph quinn angst #Joseph Quinn smut #Steve Harrington #Joe keery #stranger things imagines #stranger things 4 #stranger things volume 2