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twistedinthreads · 2 months

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Lost In The Labyrinth

Part 1.

You came to Oxford to get away from America; from your mother's fame and the ghosts of your past. You get more than you bargained for when you meet Felix.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: sexual content (not explicit but it's there so 18+ MINORS DNI), I used some descriptors for reader such as scars, birthmarks, imperfections, but I made her as inclusive as possible, reader is American, she's also a nepo baby but isn't using her nepotism in any real way. Bi!reader and Felix. fic title inspired by the taylor swift song, of course (and I am terrible at titles!)

Playlist (a work in progress!)

A/N: I am so insecure about this reading back over it omgggg but I'm posting it anyway! Hi friends. I've been working on this for so long, and I'm recovering from my surgery so I figured there's no time like the present. Here we are. I am obsessed with this movie and this man! I promise this fic is gonna get more interesting, but we've got this for now. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist, and feel free to send me asks if you want to talk about reader and her lore, because she is very special to me and I adore her already!!!

Your eyes droop as you hum along to the nameless blonde that stands in front of you, her sparkly pink cocktail dress catching the light and making her glow. She’s going on and on about how Everlasting Eve is her favorite movie of all time, and how your mother is “the greatest actress of our time!” You want to vomit. It’s not like this doesn’t happen, it’s practically a daily occurrence at this point, but you’d much prefer it if people stopped giving so much of a shit. If they did, you wouldn’t be stood with a bottle blonde from Bristol talking your ear off. You’d just stepped out to get some air, for Christ’s sake.

“You’re from the States, right?” You nod, sipping at your cocktail and bouncing from one foot to the other to conserve some warmth in your legs. She asks it as if she hasn’t been talking your ear off and didn’t notice your accent, not as thick as it used to be when you’d lived in New York full time, but still foreign here. The music is less obnoxious out here, bass easing on your chest. It’s cooler, too, the fall night air brushing against your neck like a lover. “That’s brilliant! I went with my parents once, when I was a kid. We went to Disney World.”

You smile and nod, muttering out a “cool” as you sip at your drink, cringing at its strength.

“Is that far from where you live?” She asks, and you wonder how she got into this fucking school. Probably a legacy, with more money than she knows what to do with.

“Uh,” you suppress a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, like… incredibly South of New York.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to New York,” she continues to babble. “My parents go on business trips there, but they’ve never taken me. I want to see where Little Angels was filmed! Uh, Lincoln Square Park?”

“Washington Square Park,” you correct her.

“Yeah!” She snaps her fingers and points. “That’s it! When your mom’s character is waiting there for Hugh Grant’s character, and then they walk off into the sunset together? Absolutely the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen!”

You stare off into the distance vacantly, the night sky painted with different navy hues and dotted with the brushstrokes of stars.

Suddenly, you feel a warm arm around your waist, hot breath on your cheek. “There you are!” You’d know that voice anywhere. The figure kisses you on the cheek and it takes everything in you not to start grinning from ear to ear. You turn, meeting his lips, and he plays along like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I’m gonna head home, wanna come with?”

You nod, thanking him with your eyes. He winks gently at you and grabs your hand. “Nice talking to you…” you’ve already forgotten her name. Her tone has completely shifted, body stiff as her eyes mull over you and the man that holds your hand with a vice grip.

“Sandra.” It’s cold, but you keep your own voice chipper.

“Sandra! Nice to meet you,” she’s in your college, so you’ll have to be cordial. “See you around?”

She just nods and lights a cigarette.

As you walk away, one of Felix’s hands around your waist and the other holding your own, you look up at him. “Thank you so much. Holy shit. I was about to lose it.”

He lets out a low, intoxicated chuckle. “It’s what I’m here for, darling.” Uses his fingers on your chin, tugging lightly to kiss you hard on the mouth. He pulls away and you chase his lips, planting one more kiss on his mouth, this time softer.

“Your room or mine?” You ask, to be met with a smirk as he grabs your hand and leads you across campus. It’s a path you could walk with your eyes closed, the muscle memory of so many nights embedded into your body by now.

His room is all red carpet and wood paneling, empty takeout containers and beer cans and ashtrays strewn about. His bed is unmade and his textbooks are all over his floor, but it hardly matters when he’s kissing you like you’re the only person in the fucking universe.

Within minutes, you settle back into a familiar routine. Clothes shed, completely bare to one another as you grind and writhe on top of him, hands on his toned chest. He’s gorgeous with his mouth open in ecstasy, labored breaths escaping it, eyes closed and clenched, hands rested on your waist as you move above him, a renaissance painting. You’re moaning too, tempering your whines so that the sounds don’t travel. The moon paints the room in subtle, cool light and the pleasure makes sweat bead on your brows.

“Missed you,” he manages between moans, voice heavy and breathy. “Missed this.”

“It’s been like, two days,” you let out a chuckle, and it fades into a moan as you grind your hips again, trying not to scratch his chest with your manicured nails, though you doubt he'd mind too much.

“And that’s too long,” he replies, and you lean down and kiss him, open mouthed and messy and euphoric.

When it’s all said and done, you lay naked beside him while he smokes a cigarette, arm laced around your bare shoulder, your head rested on his. It’s bliss, something you’ve begun to ache for all the time. “Really, thank you. That girl was driving me fucking insane.”

“That scene where your mom’s character and Hugh Grant ride off into the sunset together? Immaculate.” He mocks the girl, a surprisingly good impersonation, and you both belly laugh. You wipe away bits of red lipstick from his mouth and grin delicately at him. You know you’re not the only girl he’s seeing, not even the only girl he’s fucking, and it wedges something vile and dangerous in your heart. The words linger on your tongue. You want to ask, want to know, and if you sound desperate? Well, so be it.

“What is this?” You wrench the words out quickly, looking at your hands.

“What do you mean?” He takes a long drag of the cigarette, letting the smell perforate the air in the room, turning it cloudy in its wake.

“Us,” you murmur, and he runs a hand through your hair. “Like… I know you’re fucking other people, Felix. And that’s fine but… I just want to be clear on what this.”

He looks at you perplexed, smashing the cigarette in the ash tray and turning on his side toward you. You mirror his motions, so the two of you are laying in bed, you practically on top of him due to its size, your hands under your cheek. “I’m fucking other girls? News to me.”

“I see the way you look at them,” you murmur. “India. Annabel. That guy you study with sometimes… Ryan?”

“I’m not fucking anyone else,” he mutters, seeming almost offended at the notion. He scoffs before his next words. “I practically haven’t even looked at anyone else.”

“Fe-“ he cuts you off, a hand brushing over your cheek, holding it delicately.

“No,” he starts. “I know I have a reputation or whatever,” he waves his free hand around. “But I genuinely haven’t been seeing anyone else since we started… this.” He gestures between the two of you, and you can sense that he's lying, but it hardly matters.

You’re almost self-conscious as his eyes rake over your body; so self aware of every little imperfection, every feature. The birthmark on your hip. The way one tit is just a bit bigger than the other. Your crooked finger from when you broke it playing volleyball in ninth grade. The gray hairs you’d been noticing popping up recently.

“You’re the prettiest fucking girl at this college,” he says your name before kissing you sweetly. “Don’t want to look at anyone else.” You know it’s a lie, considering the fact that he does look at other girls, and often. It’s almost like you can’t bother to care, though. Your head is all floaty and tears are burning your eyes.

He climbs on top of you, kisses down your chest, down your stomach, makes sure to take his time kissing that same birthmark you were so insecure about minutes before, your inner thighs, before finally landing where it matters most.

“So fuckin’ beautiful, yeah?” He looks up at you with those gorgeous eyes, the earnestness in them making your heart swell up. In this moment, it’s not the same Felix that made you cry last week because he told you you needed to get your own friends (you have plenty), or the Felix that ignored you at the pub to talk to Annabel, causing you to storm out and ignore him for three days until he realized.

Sometimes, he doesn’t care if you come, and he doesn’t clean up after himself, and sometimes his words bite, and last week he made that insensitive comment about your friend with depression. But you think you might love him, and it feels like enough.

After, he asks you to stay with him. You laugh languidly, tears brimming at your eyes from how hard. He kisses you, soft and slow, the moonlight seeping into the window and painting the carpet with light; it looks like a lone puddle of blood in a sea of blackness.

When you wake, it’s nearly noon. The sun beams through the curtains and you shield your eyes, trying to move underneath Felix’s strong grip. He’s got a hand wrapped around your thigh. Your leg wrapped around his waist while your arms are, slightly pained from the uncomfortable angle, folded around his neck. You regret moving your face from its spot in his chest, wanting nothing more than to occupy his space for as long as possible.

You can’t bear to wake him, his eyelashes fluttering ever-so-slightly against his face. You smile, tuck yourself back into him, and feel his breaths come out relaxed and steady. The tranquility doesn’t last long, though, and you watch as his eyes flicker open. “Good morning,” his voice is raspy, his saccharine accent accentuating every word with posh sweetness. He kisses your cheek and gets up, your eyes meeting his bare ass. “I should go shower, you cool to stay here?” He asks as he gathers his things.

“I need to go,” you also get up, searching around for your undergarments and your uncomfortable cocktail dress, pulling the blue, beaded garment on without much care. “Sundays are study days with June.”

You slip your uncomfortable heels on, wincing at the blister you’d developed last night but didn’t notice until now, and kiss him on the cheek as you leave his dorm.

The trek across campus has you nearly limping in pain, as you kick your shoes off the second you make it into your room. You gather your shower gear, thankful for your own bathroom and the warmth of a long, hot shower. It’s almost painful to wash his scent off of you, but you know you’ll be seeing him again soon, and let your floral body wash cleanse you and your sore form.

Before you get dressed, you grab antibiotic cream and bandaids from a drawer and tend to your blisters, throwing on a pair of slip-ons to avoid even more pain.

And as you go to study with June, your mind is far from Shakespeare; it rests only on Felix, Felix, Felix.

#felix catton x reader #felix catton #saltburn #saltburn x reader #saltburn smut #felix catton x you #felix catton x y/n #felix catton smut #felix catton fic #saltburn fanfic #saltburn fic #saltburn fanfiction

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redtsundere-writes · 2 months

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Imagine:

Sukuna Is The Type Of Dad...

Contents: Fluff, the last one is kinda smut. You are the mom, of course. Mom is a state of mind, not a gender. Word Count: 572 words. Author's Note: So I decided to do something more light and fun to read. I want to do a series so vote for which daddy I should write next!

> Sukuna is the type of dad which would laugh at his child for falling over on their bike, but would help them get up once he notice your death glare from the kitchen window.

> Sukuna is the type of dad who will give their child permission por going out to a house party even if you already told them they couldn’t go. Later on, he would whisper to you that letting them go would be the best excuse to have some alone time, if you know, you know.

> Sukuna is the type of dad who would bring pizza every friday just so you don’t have to cook and the kid can have a fun meal.

> Sukuna is the type of dad who would come home too tired from work to watch a Disney movie, but he will still try to do so, even if he ends up falling asleep and snoring at the beginning of it.

> Sukuna is the type of dad who would ask “but did you win?” if his child got on a fight in school instead of scolding them.

> Sukuna is the type of dad who would be very jealous of his little girl boyfriends and he wants to make sure they treat her like a queen. He would even go as far as threat them with a shotgun if they treat them wrong.

> Sukuna is the type of dad who would yell “Come here you little shit!” to their kid if they ever dare to prank him by dropping a water balloon on his head and proceed to chase them around the house.

> Sukuna is the type of dad that would teach bad words to his kid from birth.

> Sukuna is the type of dad who would be super proud of the fact that his baby first word was “dada”, and would brag it on your face every chance he has.

> Sukuna is the type of dad who wants the whole family to dress up for halloween in a terrifying costume, but ends up buying Bluey costumes instead because the kids insisted.

> Sukuna is the type of dad to leave a generous amount of money under their pillow as the toothfairy.

> Sukuna is the type of dad who doesn’t want a cat in the house. Until one day, their kid ends bringing one unexpectedly that they rescue from the street, Sukuna would just let it stay until they find it a home. Little did he know, he would treat it like another kid after he got attached to it.

> Sukuna is the type of dad who would let his kids colour in his tattoos with water markers.

> Sukuna is the type of dad who would play tea party with their kid, let them do his makeup and paint his nails pink. He wouldn’t take it off and go to work like that to show off that the pink of his nails matches his hair.

> Sukuna is the type of dad who would fight with their kid for your attention in bed on a Sunday morning, but you end up snuggling with both.

> Sukuna is the type of dad who wouldn’t be embarrassed to talk to their kid about “the birds & the bees.” He would even use the words “cock,” “pussy,” and “cum” without feeling embarrased.

> Sukuna is the type of dad who would make sure his kids are well asleep so he can go fuck you without interruptions.

Order your own fanfic! (Starting price: $5 USD)

Masterlist.

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ashetherando · 9 months

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Disney Adult| FizzOzzie Poly x reader (and separate)

my sorry ass have been looking at Disney World stuff and as a Disney Adult I’m surprised I haven’t made this before! pronouns: They/Them/Theirs

Key words:

(y/n)-Your Name

(l/n)-Last Name

(POLY FIZZOZZIE )

They don’t really care of what you’re into, as long you don’t be stupid or harassing imps/demons they don’t care. They will in fact have a whiplash of Disney merchandise you own at your home with the Minnie/Mickey ears and clothes, PJs, and cups! They will be shitty boyfriends if they shit all over your interest while you don’t. If you’re going to Disney World/Land, you’re their guide! Teach them about Genie Plus, teach them about the Disney World app, cuz they’re helpless without your Disney eyes! Also, let them pick their magic bands there so much designs and their brains cannot handle it! Also, quick thing, give fizz a kid leash. You’ll be walking around in Animal Kingdom with Ozzie planning what he wants to eat, then POOF Fizz somehow learned to park hop and is now at Magic Kingdom at Peter Pans Flight!

💙OZZIE/ASMODEUS💙

Ozzie believes that Disney can be dark, for example Hunchback of Notre Dame, The Black Caldron, and basically he’s more into the Disney Renaissance than the present day movies at the Disney franchise. He will not be surprised when he comes over to your home and you hand him over Disney PJs, he doesn’t care about how much Disney merchandise your house can handle, as long you’re not blowing off all your money for a Disney figure ‘cuz you still need to pay bills and rent! But! When you ask what he wants at Disney World, he asked “coffee” as a joke, but when you came back from your trip and before you clock in “here ya go, Asmodeus!” You said as you held up the bag with the word Joffrey’s printed on it “I wasn’t so sure what you wanted so I kinda just guessed!” He tilted his head to the side as you place the bag on his desk, he opened the bag and see two bags of coffee grounds one is a flavorful coffee ground and the other is just plan coffee grounds “I wasn’t expecting you to get me this” he grabbed a bag and analyzing it “do you not want it?” “No! I want it, I really do need some coffee grounds, I just never thought that Disney have these type of things” “well, it’s a huge company! Of course they’re gonna have coffee!” “That’s fair” he placed the bag down and bring up the flavor on, it’s was obviously bought at the Polynesian resort exclusive. “Thank you, (y/n)”

When you finally convinced him to go with you while being part of the Disney Vacation Club, you have to treat him by bringing him to Food and Wine festival. He’s quite interested by the new wine they give out every year than the food. Keep an eye on him, we don’t know his drink tolerance is, he might get drunk at Epcot!

💚FIZZAROLLI💙

Fizzarolli is a guy to be like “haha! Imagine liking a company for babies” just deal with it, he’s gonna be a prick about your hyper fixations, but he’s doing it for jokes and will let you know about that. He only watches whatever is on TV, if you and him are chilling in your home. Just stream something on Disney Plus, then he’ll watch it with you. Here’s my advice: Have a Disney Marathon and he’ll won’t even notice! I’m kidding he will once it’s 1am and you’re watching Tangled, then he’ll be like “Old Disney is better” then he’ll leave the room. If you’re watching more present Disney movie, he’ll yell it from the hallway “Old Disney is better!” He may be your boyfriend, but he’s such a bad influence on you, when Ozzie is good with money and help you with your impulsive spendings, Fizz encourages you to buy that. You will send him a picture of a new Disney pin collection through text “oh look how cute they are!” “Get it” “fizz, I have rent that is due” “idc, get the pins” “you don’t even know the characters!” “I know the blue fur ball!” “Don’t call stitch a fur ball” “why did you send me this anyways!?” “….the pins will be here on Tuesday next week” “knew it” Disney World will be an episode and a half, homie will be in a different park quicker before you say Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious so please give him a kid leash before he does it again, but convincing him took so long! You have to show him some videos, nothing too intimidating since he’s a Disney Virgin, just simplify your vacation visit, but not for clothing wear, the Greed Ring is hot, and you two will be sweating allot, which means chafing! Biker shorts are your whore! Treat him with any festival and he’ll be happy! If it’s the Food and Wine, he’ll will eat any food or drink any wine, but let’s be happy that you brought him!

#x reader insert #disney world #asmodeus x reader helluva boss #helluva boss #fizzarolli x reader #helluva boss x reader #fizzmodeus #fizzarozzie

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here2bbtstrash · 2 years

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the spins (explicit)

genre: smutttyyyyyy as hell (with like one angsty conversation about isolation as a trauma response, but said in much vaguer terms lol)

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: you discover a new side to your former lab partner, frat wonder boy jeon jungkook, when you confess to him the one thing no man has ever been able to make you do.

word count: 10.3k

contains: explicit sexual content AKA porn!!!!! alcohol, minor frat house shenanigans, reader is a total bitch but in a highkey relatable way, jungkook is The Only Good Frat Boy, mentions of shitty hookups/sexual dissatisfaction/faked orgasms, an **absurdly** lengthy and gratuitous cunnilingus scene, a lil bit of teasing/begging, spitting, LOUD sex, reader’s first partnered orgasms, also JK has a tongue piercing 👀

A/N: so writing this nearly killed me,,, lmao. i have two inspiration sources that i must credit- one is jai’s @gimmethatagustd INCREDIBLE fic paint me naked, which gave me the final shove i needed to topple over into JK hard stan land (listen he’s 3 years younger than me, i had a complex about it, it’s fine). seriously go give it a read and give her some love, i fully credit her with moving college!JK into my brain where he now lives rent-free.

the other source of inspiration is this insaaaaane imagine audio (WARNING, extremely NSFW and will literally ruin your life!!!!!) that hooked me on the idea that JK would be competitive about eating pussy and….. yep, smack those two things together and ta-da, this porn was born. godspeed and thanks as always for reading 💜

this is now (finally) on AO3!

~*~

You really don’t know why you came to this party. It’s so crowded, bodies pressed together, people screaming to be heard over the noise, or just because they’re white girl wasted. The music is terrible, the floor weirdly sticky, the container of jungle juice in the kitchen extremely suspicious. You opted for tequila instead, the last of which you now drain from the bottom of your red solo cup. The whole place smells like cheap beer, vape smoke, and frat boy cologne.

Yet another Jack Harlow song comes on over the bass-boosted speakers and you roll your eyes. That’s it. Time to go home and actually finish the psych paper you’re putting off.

You shove your way into the kitchen, trying to be the only upstanding citizen in this godforsaken frat house and actually put your trash in a trash can. You spot one in the corner– nearly overflowing, but still good enough, except that a whole circle of Brads and Chads block your path. You do your best to squeeze past them, but because they don’t do anything except live at the gym and snort protein powder, they might as well be a brick wall.

“Excuse me,” you try. Nothing.

“I need to get through,” you say with a gentle push. It’s like talking to a brick wall, too.

“Alright, fuck it.” You roll your eyes and decide to just fucking go for it. You’ve had enough liquor that you won’t feel the pain until tomorrow anyway.

The circle breaks apart in confusion, not a brain cell in sight, as you slam your way through. They part so quickly that your plan works too well, and the excess momentum shoots you forward. You stumble, losing your footing, already cringing because you’re about to faceplant on the nasty floor of this nasty frat house kitchen.

“Hey, whoa!” A voice way too close to your ear for comfort shouts, but then an arm snakes around your waist and saves you from your doom, gripping you tightly. “Careful!”

You glance up, wondering if this guy is going to try to turn the moment into some attempt at flirtation, the world’s worst meet cute, but then you see big round eyes staring back at you with legitimate concern. Oh, fuck. You know those Disney princess eyes. Your stomach drops.

“Whaaaaaaaat!” Holding you in one arm, an unopened 18-rack of beer hoisted up on his shoulder with the other, grinning like a kid in a candy store, is none other than frat wonder boy Jeon Jungkook.

Ah, shit. You knew he was in a frat, of course. He doesn’t shut up about it. But you didn’t know it was this one– well, actually, you don’t even know which frat house you’re in right now. Alpha Beta Omega? They’re all the same to you. You don’t really understand why they have factions anyway instead of all just living together, but that would probably be too gay.

“I didn’t know you partied!” Jungkook is still smiling a smile that takes up his whole face, clearly unable to believe that you’re standing here in his disgusting frat house kitchen in your leather jacket and your combat boots.

You huff a laugh as he slowly unloops his arm from around you, assessing to see if you’re stable enough to stay upright. You shoot him a look as if to say I’m fine, dumbass. Uncoordinated, not intoxicated. There’s a difference.

“I do not party,” you correct him. “Never once in my life have I partied. I merely come to the parties, stand on the edges and observe, get my free alcohol, and then depart. Like I’m doing right now.” You aim your solo cup at the trash can and miss by about a foot.

“You– hang on,” he pauses, turning back to offload the fresh case of beer onto the kitchen counter. There’s a clamor of excitement from the Brads and Chads as they crowd around to slap him on the back, shouting things like “okay, JK!” and “let’s fucking gooooo!”

You have to get out of here, you think to yourself, and then you watch Jungkook bring his tattooed hand up to rip the cardboard front of the case off effortlessly, and that is lowkey kind of hot.

Quiet, you tell your tequila brain. No lusting after frat boys. Not even the one you sat next to for an entire semester in bio lab, the one who was actually way smarter than anticipated and didn’t just use you for an easy A, who genuinely seemed like he cared about the way you answered “How was your weekend?” every time he asked, and who didn’t even say one problematic thing the whole semester.

Just because he’s the exemplary form of his species doesn’t make him not what he is, you remind yourself. Even the best frat boy is still a frat boy.

Jungkook returns as the rest of the bros swarm the counter and proceed to decimate the case of beer. That must have been the reason they were waiting here, at their proverbial watering hole, because they circle up and dissolve back into the party, several of them clapping Jungkook on the back again in thanks as they leave.

You realize he doesn’t have to yell to be heard anymore as he says, “You’re leaving already?”

“Yes, Jungkook,” you sigh. “I have a paper to write.”

He scrunches up his face, knowing he can’t argue with academic excellence. “It’s still early. What if you just have one more drink, and then go? I haven’t even gotten to enjoy the party yet. The pledges severely underestimated how much alcohol it takes to run this place.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, I’m so terribly sorry that your child servants who literally give you money in exchange for friendship got something wrong.”

The words feel biting as they leave your mouth, and you honestly expect him to protest, but he only shrugs. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re right. The whole thing is stupid.” For a moment you wonder how on earth he’s immune, what it is about him that allows him to live in the cradle of toxic masculinity and still be so regular, so good.

“Will you stay?” He asks again. You try to purse your lips to hide your smile, but it doesn’t work, and then he’s smiling too.

“Fine.”

The kid literally fist pumps, and your laugh bubbles up before you can stop it. He gestures broadly to the kitchen counters which are a veritable nightmare of liquor bottles and beer cans. “What’ll it be? Don’t say the jungle juice,” he warns with a laugh.

You look at him like he’s gone entirely insane. “I would never say the jungle juice. Tequila, please.”

Jungkook moves fluidly, as if he’s imitating those ridiculous Las Vegas bartenders who do tricks while they pour your obscenely overpriced drink. He shakes a solo cup off the stack and throws it up, spinning on his heels and catching it in his other hand, and you’re laughing again because he’s such a fucking dork.

He crosses to open the freezer and scoops up some ice in your cup, then pours a healthy amount of tequila in. “And mixer?” He looks back at you over his shoulder.

You pause. “Uh, just ice is good.”

He puts the bottle down and turns to squint at you in disbelief. “You drink straight tequila and you’re telling me you don’t party?”

You falter, a little flustered. “I don’t know. It’s not like I’m drinking it for the taste, you know?”

“Can I show you what you’re missing out on?” He asks, and you don’t know why the question makes you swallow hard. “Seriously.” He picks the bottle of tequila back up, eyeing the brand with distaste. “This stuff is… not great.”

Your instinct is to joke about him slipping something in your drink, but you bite the words back– because first of all, not funny. But you also genuinely don’t think he would ever do something like that, and you don’t want to give off the impression that you do.

“Alright,” you say instead, lifting your hands in surrender.

He opens the fridge door and crouches down, digging around through what you can only imagine is a Costco-sized amount of egg cartons and packages of chicken breasts. Finding what he’s looking for, he pulls away with a carton that’s been Sharpie’d to death, “JK ONLY DO NOT DRINK” on all sides. It’s really every bro for himself out here, you think.

“Grapefruit okay?” Jungkook double-checks, and you give a shrug and a nod. He pours a little, inspects the cup, then adds a splash more. “It’s not too sweet.”

He passes the cup off to you and returns his juice to the fridge, shuts the door, then seems to realize he forgot to make himself a drink and repeats the entire process again, spinning in a full circle which has you hiding your giggle in the rim of your cup. Once he’s made himself a matching drink to yours, he leans against the counter and takes a sip, surveying you.

You mirror him– the drink is admittedly a lot better than straight bottom-shelf, and you like how the sour taste lingers on the back of your tongue.

“Thank you,” you remember to say after a few sips, and he waves it off as if to say it’s no big deal.

“So, why are you here? Observing us in our natural habitat?” He puts on a voice for the last part, in a clear imitation of you, and you smirk. It does sound like something you would say.

“I’m an agent of chaos,” you say and he gives you a look like he’s waiting for the real answer. You choose that moment to take a long swallow of your drink, buying time. He continues to wait patiently, so you finally just shrug and make a face. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to do my paper. I saw a thing for it on insta. And I was tired of rotting away in my dorm room.”

He nods thoughtfully. “I tried inviting you to stuff when we were lab partners.” You wonder if the tequila is making you imagine that he sounds a little hurt. “You never seemed into it.”

At that, you laugh, because he’s being kind. Jungkook did invite you regularly to whatever mixers or ragers his frat was planning, and every time you would tell him no, directly to his face, like the bitch that you are. You eventually started trying to come up with as many creative ways to phrase it as you could: no, nope, never, not in a million years, when hell freezes over. He took them all like a champ, and that was one of the first things you remember liking about him. A frat boy who can respect when someone says no and not try to push it– now that is a rarity.

You want to apologize, but you really have no explanation for what makes tonight any different, at least not one you can say eloquently. How do you tell him you’re fucking sick of staring at the walls, feeling like “the best years of your life” are passing you by and leaving you with nothing to show for it? That you’ve painted sarcasm and an “I don’t give a fuck” attitude over your life for so long that now it feels like you’re backed into a corner where you can’t give a shit about anybody because there’s nobody left to give a shit about? So you were neck deep in insta stories on a Friday night like a fucking loser, and you saw a stupid post about a stupid frat party by some girl you swore was going to be your bestie the first week of freshman year who you promptly never spoke to again, and something in you snapped and said, “fuck it”?

Oof, tequila coming in strong, you think to yourself. You decide to spare Jungkook the emotional word vomit.

He keeps going when you don’t respond. “I just figured you had better things to do. Like ride motorcycles, or be in a mosh pit.”

You roll your eyes. “Motorcycles are giant metal death traps. Hard pass. And I don’t like getting punched in the face by nazis, so I don’t mosh.” You take a sip of your drink and size him up. “You’re one to talk, little alt boy.”

He’s playing with his lip ring when you say it, and the blush that creeps up his neck is honestly cute. Thoroughly unfazed by your words, he rolls up the right sleeve of his eyesore of a button down until his arm is fully exposed. “Check it out! Finally filled in the shoulder piece.”

You step closer to admire the fresh ink. Jungkook’s sleeve is, admittedly, really fucking cool. You still remember the first time you saw it in bio lab. It was the first day where the temperature crept up to an actual tolerable degree after what felt like a winter that would never end. You’d only known him in hoodies up to that point, so when he rolled into class that day in a baggy t-shirt and you saw the hint of lettering and shading peeking out from under his sleeve, your jaw nearly hit the floor.

“It’s rude to stare,” he’d said with a soft laugh and a cheeky-ass wink.

You wonder now if maybe you stepped too close, because you can feel the heat radiating off of his body. He holds his arm up for you, rotating it to show off the whole thing. Throughout the rest of the semester, you’d watched as he slowly started to fill in the blank spaces, but now it’s even more cohesive; he’s nearly finished it in the time since you last got a good look.

“Just need something on my wrist. And I might do the back of my hand. I haven’t decided.” He squeezes his hand into a fist and flexes with a put-on grunt, and you laugh even as the swell of his bicep makes your heart jump in your chest.

Emboldened by how close you are to him, and also the tequila, you trace your finger along the words that wrap across his forearm– rather be dead than cool. “That one’s my favorite,” you say softly.

When you glance up, he’s already looking at you, and now your heart’s in your throat. “I swear this thing’s the only reason you like me,” he says, the non-pierced corner of his mouth crooking up in a barely-there smile.

You open your mouth to protest when the kitchen is suddenly alive with noise as a mass of bodies crash through the doorway. A girl in a minidress that has ridden dangerously far up her thighs is nearly carried in by two of her friends, with several more trailing in right at their heels, and her name must be Hannah because they all say it about a thousand times in six seconds. A couple of dudebros shuffle in behind them, shouting for everyone to step back and give her space.

Nowhere else to go, you’re forced that much closer to Jungkook as far too many people try to squeeze into the tiny kitchen. You’ve basically got him pinned against the counter, and you look away, then look back, extremely uncomfortable.

“Sorry,” you mouth, and he shakes his head like it’s not a big deal.

He does smell really good, you realize now that he’s this close. Not like he took a bath in Axe body spray or Drakkar Noir, as most of his frat bros do, just… warm and clean, with a hint of the good kind of boy musk, salt and skin. It’s a welcome distraction from the unbridled chaos of Hannah and her entourage.

“She’s gonna be sick,” someone warns, and you wince in preparation.

“Hannah, aim for the sink!” Another girl coaxes. You turn over your shoulder and watch as Hannah takes a few steps forward, legs quivering like a baby deer, then does a last-second pivot and vomits directly into the jungle juice.

“Oh, party foul!” One of the bros yells.

You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head, and then Jungkook’s breath is ghosting over your neck and you can’t think about anything else. “Do you want to go to my room?” His voice is low, his lips inches from your ear.

You look up at him over the rim of your cup. “Yes, please.”

It’s only once you start walking that your mind is able to process what’s happening, and the panic sets in. Jeon Jungkook is guiding you through his packed frat house, his hand on the small of your back. Of course the crowds part for you like the fucking red sea, no throwing elbows required, because everybody loves him.

His bros greet him as he passes, “‘sup JK!”, and you try to avoid eye contact. You wonder how regularly they see this, him leading some wide-eyed girl up to his room to do what frat boys do best. Your stomach twists as you wonder what his expectations are, and what the fuck it is that you’ve just agreed to by saying yes.

You climb the stairs, his hand still pressed to your back, and he leads you to the first room on the left when you reach the top. When he opens the door and motions for you to step through, you’re surprised.

For one, it doesn’t reek of weed. It just smells like he does, but stronger, with a hint of fresh laundry. His bed isn’t made, but there are also no questionable stains on the black sheets, and he has four pillows and a bed frame, not just a mattress and box spring on the ground with one sad rectangle. There are some cups on the nightstand, but no ash tray overflowing with burnt out ends of blunts, no empty beer cans, and you can actually see the floor.

Not bad, you think to yourself, and then the anxiety presses in again as he shuts the door behind you. Nope. You are absolutely not doing this.

“Sorry about that,” he says with a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “These things get really crazy around finals season. I guess people need an escape in the form of mild alcohol poisoning.”

You cross your arms, unable to continue the polite conversation. “Look, I don’t know what you think is going to happen in here, but it’s not going to happen, okay?”

He steps back, his brow instantly furrowing. “Wait, what? Are you mad at me right now? I just figured you’d want to get out of the kitchen, since a girl was actively puking.”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” you say, not buying it.

“I-I’m not.” Jungkook seems genuinely flustered, enough that you realize he’s probably not acting. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he starts, and then he sighs, like he’s correcting himself. “But, I guess my intentions really don’t matter, because it seems like I did. So I’m sorry.”

You squint at him, wondering who the fuck taught this boy how to apologize so damn well. This is the first time you’ve ever heard a frat boy say “sorry” without it being immediately followed by “but” and then something so offensive that it negates the entire thing.

He waits for you to respond, then gestures to the door. “If you want to go, you can go. I just wanted to talk to you. I haven’t seen you at all since last semester, and I’m really glad you came out.”

The thought of going back downstairs is slightly more anxiety-inducing than staying in this room. At least here it’s quiet, and it smells nice, and he apparently is not actually trying to get into your pants. It really does seem like you read him wrong, you admit to yourself, and then you unceremoniously plop down on his carpet.

Jungkook doesn’t even try to hide the big smile on his face as he joins you on the floor, and you both lean back against the foot of his bed. He slips his feet out of his slides and you lean forward to pull your boots off.

“Like I said, I’ve been rotting away in my dorm room,” you remind him with a dry laugh.

“You should’ve texted me. I would’ve come rot with you.”

His words make you smile a little, but you’re still suspicious. “Uh-huh,” you intone as he takes another sip of his drink. “And what would we have done, Jungkook?” The question nearly makes you cringe; it’s like reading a bad sext out loud. You don’t know why you keep pushing him on this.

Maybe, a tiny part of your tequila brain whispers to you, you’re goading him so hard into saying that he wants to hook up because for a split second back there in the kitchen, you realized that’s what you want. But you’re a hyper-independent bitch who can’t ever admit to needing anything from anybody, so you need him to say it first.

You grit your teeth and give your head a nearly imperceptible shake, trying to shut that brain cell up.

“I don’t know,” he says with a shrug, like he really doesn’t. “Play video games?” He gestures to a Nintendo 64 in the corner of his room, hooked up to a large TV that’s mounted on the wall.

It’s certainly not the answer you expected, but you don’t hate it. You raise an eyebrow as if to challenge him. “Well, I will kick your ass in Mario Kart.”

He sucks gently on his lip ring as he looks you over, and there’s a glint in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. You’ve clearly tapped into something. “Oh, I highly doubt that.”

“Then prove it.”

Dropping out of shit-talk mode for a second, Jungkook gives a laugh that almost sounds embarrassed. “I should warn you, I get pretty competitive.”

You refuse to back down. “Better work on your gracious losing face, then.”

In acceptance of your challenge, you watch as he sorts through the bin of cartridges next to the console until he finds the one he’s looking for. He brings it up to his mouth and blows on it, some strange gamer ritual you’ve seen before but have never understood, and a shiver runs through you.

“Here,” he says, tossing you a dark blue controller, letting the cord unravel and plugging it into the port. “You can even use my favorite.” You take it in your hands and smile when you see the yellow Pokémon logo stamped across the center.

“You’re going to regret that when I beat you with it,” you retort, shrugging out of your jacket for optimum mobility. He’s grinning as he settles back next to you and the menu music starts up.

It turns out you’re pretty evenly matched in the Mario Kart skills department. You sail past him on the first course, easily finishing in first, but get entirely wrecked by a blue shell in course two and he’s able to clinch it no problem.

You would’ve expected more shit-talking based on his warning, but instead he’s just so focused, eyes wide, mouth wiggling his lip ring back and forth. It’s a little endearing. A lot endearing, really. You keep sneaking glances over at him as you start up the third and final course, wondering why he has to be so goddamn cute, why you’re incapable of finding a single flaw in him no matter how hard you try.

Forcing yourself to focus, you return your attention back to the screen, only to see that he has flown right by you and is far ahead in the lead. Oh, this simply will not do, you think to yourself, and then an item box hands you a perfectly-timed golden mushroom, and you see your path to victory.

You drift around the sharp corners, giving yourself a speed boost each time, and it’s just enough. “Get fucked,” you say with a giggle as Princess Peach cruises her way past Bowser into first place. You use the last few seconds of your mushroom power to put a solid amount of distance between your characters. There’s less than half a lap left, and absolutely nothing he can do to deny you of your win.

Or so you think, until he reaches over and drags his hand across your controller, forcing your joystick in the opposite direction and causing Peach to start driving in circles on the screen.

“What the fuck!” You scream, trying to smack his hand away, but he closes one of your hands in his and forces that down on the joystick, making your car go fully backwards. “You fucking cheater!”

“You’re the cheater,” he grunts, which doesn’t even make any sense, but pisses you off enough to reach for his controller to mimic his strategy. However, you fail to account for his evolutionary advantage of having longer arms than you; he’s easily able to scoot away while keeping his hand pressed down on your own. You see in the game that he’s inches away from overtaking you now, the fingers of his other hand stretching to work joystick and button at once.

“No!” You cry out in frustration, desperately trying to wriggle your hand free. You can’t just sit here and watch him steal this out from under you, so you dive hard to one side and yank the controller away at the same time.

It’s only a little too late that you realize you have once again made an uncoordinated lunge and ended up with far too much leftover momentum. He does not relent, and you underestimated the severity of his grip on your hand because when you fall over he comes with you, both of you toppling onto the carpet as the controller flies out of your grasp.

You end up flat on your back, and his reflexes are only barely fast enough to respond, his hands bracing the floor on either side of your head so he can avoid landing on top of you.

But that’s even worse, because now Jungkook is hovering over you, and you’re both breathing heavy, and his hair is falling in his eyes, and you don’t even know how but his thigh has managed to end up pressed between your legs.

For a moment, you don’t move or say anything, and neither does he. You just stay like that, staring at each other. Your eyes drop to his mouth, and then he cracks a smug grin.

“I told you I don’t like to lose.”

Your stomach flips as your panic rears back in full force, and you meet his gaze again. “Am I still supposed to believe you didn’t bring me up here to hook up?” Your voice is barely more than a whisper.

The smile drops off his face as his eyes search yours. “What do you want?” He asks, and you can hear the exasperation in his voice. “Because you’re the one who keeps talking about it.”

You falter, unable to come up with any witty retort because you know he’s right. Jungkook moves away from you and you sit up with a sigh. He scoots back a few more inches, giving you plenty of space, and reaches for the remote to mute the TV.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” you say, your voice still soft. You can’t look at him, so you stare at the carpet instead. “That’s just alcohol and adolescent sex drive talking. It’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?” He doesn’t sound mad, but confused, like he wants to understand your thought process. Good fucking luck, you think to yourself.

You give him a look. “Because I’m not an idiot. Hooking up with a frat boy in his frat house is never a good idea.”

The way his face falls makes you feel like the biggest bitch on planet earth, and you desperately wish you could shove the words back in your mouth, that you were capable of shutting up for once in your goddamn life.

“Is that really how you see me?”

Of course it’s not. You know it’s not, and you hope he knows it too, despite your inability to ever actually say what you fucking mean. But you can’t stop yourself. The defense mechanism is fully engaged now.

“Jungkook, you are literally a frat boy. We are literally in a frat house. This is not a perception character judgment thing. It’s an objective facts of reality thing.”

He fixes you in his gaze, saying nothing, then sighs. “Why do you do that?”

Your heart sinks. “Do what?”

He shakes his head, worrying at his lip ring again, clearly a nervous habit. “I don’t know, it’s like… Sometimes I think you like me, but then you always throw a wall up at the last second. I just wish I knew why.”

That makes two of us, you think bitterly, but your heart is simultaneously cracking apart at how vulnerable he’s being with no hesitation. You’re almost jealous that he can just move through life like this, open and honest, so unafraid.

“I do like you,” you admit, and you open your mouth to add the qualifier, to put the wall up, but he speaks first.

“I like you, too. I’ve liked you for a long time.” This kid is going to be the death of you. “I’m not just looking to score, or whatever."

You pull your knees to your chest, crossing your arms over them, trying to shrink until you no longer exist. You start to shake your head. “Jungkook, I don’t–”

“See,” he cuts you off, “you’re doing it right now.” You groan and bury your face in your arms. “What is that? We like each other, why can’t that be enough?”

The question hangs heavy, because you know there’s no good answer.

Finally, you look up at him and sigh. “Because,” you start decisively. “You’re… you. And I’m me.” You gesture between the two of you. “We’re from different worlds.”

His face scrunches up a little, and it’s his turn to shake his head slowly. “I really don’t think we are. I think you’re just telling yourself that.” You can see he’s getting frustrated and you don’t fucking blame him. “And I don’t get how you can complain about sitting by yourself in your dorm room, but then keep blocking everyone out so that you’re always alone.”

“I like being alone!” The lie comes out reflexively before you can even think to stop it. You’ve said it so many times at this point that it almost feels true. “Alone is best.” You pause, and for a second you really wonder if you’re going to cry right now, on the floor of Jeon Jungkook’s bedroom, in his stupid frat house. “You can’t get hurt, or disappointed, or left behind if you’re alone,” you conclude. There it is. The truth, kind of.

“I wouldn’t do any of those things to you,” he says softly.

You just stare at him for a moment. The promise is too good to be true. It always is. “You can’t know that.”

He pauses, then nods once, staring back at you. “You’re right. But I don’t want to do those things. And I would try really hard not to. I just want to make you feel good. Whatever that looks like.”

You can’t help where your stupid tequila brain immediately takes the idea, and you let out a dry laugh. “Well, if that’s what you’re after, there’s really no chance.”

His brows pinch together, clearly not understanding. “What does that mean?”

“Many have tried, none have succeeded,” you say with a roll of your eyes, stretching your legs back out. “I am a puzzle that no man can solve.”

The realization slowly dawns on him, and his eyes widen. “Wait, are you saying you’ve never had a–”

You wave a hand in the air as if to shush him, and you cut him off. “Stop. Don’t be dramatic. I’ve had plenty of orgasms, courtesy of my vibrator and my showerhead.” Your face is a little hot from talking about this in front of him. “Just… only alone. The running theme here, apparently.”

He tilts his head, processing this new information. “So do you fake it?” You tell yourself you’re just imagining that he sounds a little upset.

You grimace. “With my high school boyfriend, yeah. He was my first everything, and we were so young. I was too embarrassed to say it, so I just let him believe he had a magical dick that brought me to orgasm at the exact same time as him every time.”

Jungkook huffs a laugh of disbelief.

“And after that,” you continue, looking down in embarrassment, “I don’t know, it’s pretty much just been hookups, and most usually don’t bother to ask. Some have tried for a while, and then given up…” The memories make you cringe. “It’s just uncomfortable. Hence the alone thing.” You give a half shrug. “It’s okay. My vibrator is nice.”

He says nothing, and you mentally kick yourself for oversharing. This is why the wall goes up, you think, but when you look at him, he’s already looking at you, and not in the way you expected.

In fact, you’re surprised to see that glint in his eyes again. He licks his lips, and you realize your pulse is racing.

“The way I see it,” he begins slowly, his voice low and even, “we have two options.” You raise an eyebrow, your interest piqued, and he continues. “Option one. You let me know, for real, that you’re not interested. You don’t have to tell me why, but you do have to mean it. And I’ll leave you alone, and you can go home and write your paper.”

Your mouth goes dry as you try to prepare for what might come next.

“Or, option two.” You swear his eyes darken as he says it. “You admit to me that you like me, and that you want me. And you let me take care of you. Which includes keeping you in my bed for as long as it takes me to make you come. I don’t care if it takes hours. I’ve got hours.”

He shrugs like he hasn’t just said the most devastating thing you’ve ever heard. “We can figure out the rest after. It doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to be. But it’s your call. I won’t be mad, whatever you choose. I just need to know.” He leans back on his hands, awaiting your choice.

“Jungkook,” you breathe. “You don’t know how tempting that offer is.” You try to say more, but he’s faster.

“Then say yes.”

You want to scream at him that it’s not that simple, that letting people all the way in is a door you slammed shut long ago, never to be opened again. But despite your best attempts, this cheeky, dorky, pierced and tattooed frat wonder boy has managed to wedge that door back open, just an inch. And it’s enough that now you can’t help but wonder what’s on the other side.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe it really can be that simple with him. Maybe safe doesn’t always have to mean alone. Isn’t that why you came to this party in the first place?

You let out a slow exhale, and then for the first time in your life, you decide to get out of your own way.

“Okay,” you say, and you have to work to keep your voice from shaking. “Yes. But,” you quickly add before he has a chance to react, “I don’t want this to turn into a big thing if…” you trail off. “You know. If I can’t.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that.” He says with a self-assured smile, and you hate that it’s so hot. “I have a secret weapon.”

And then he opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out, and the end of a silver barbell winks at you.

Your jaw drops. “I’m sorry, you have a tongue piercing?!”

He smirks. “Got it a couple months ago. It’s fully healed now, so you get to be my maiden voyage.” You cringe and he laughs self-consciously. “Sorry, that sounded cooler in my head.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re laughing too as his hands reach for your ankles. He gently starts to pull you towards him and you cross your legs, scooting the rest of the way forward until your knees are touching his.

“Can I please kiss you now?” Jungkook asks, but you take his face in your hands and beat him to it.

Given his competitive streak, a part of you had expected everything about this to be rough and hard, but the way he kisses you is so gentle, it’s romantic. You’d forgotten what it’s like to be kissed like this, intimate and slow, not just a tongue shoved down your throat. Jungkook is continuing to prove to you what he already has time and time again: he is nothing like any man you’ve ever met.

You are really curious about that piercing, though, so you tilt your head and tentatively lick into his mouth. When you bump against the metal post he whines a little, and goddamn, you need to be in his bed right fucking now.

He must have the same thought because his hands run firmly over your hips and you both maneuver to your feet without breaking apart. You let him guide you backwards until your knees hit the end of the bed, and you sit down and gaze up at him, breathless from his kisses.

You’re a little nervous, you realize, but then you see the way he’s looking at you. “God, you are so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, and your face flushes.

Jungkook ducks his head to kiss you again, moving you to lay down, and his hand finds the small of your back beneath you. You can’t help but smile when he uses the arm wrapped around you to effortlessly lift you up and scoot you backwards to the head of the bed. You lean against the pillows as his tongue returns to your mouth.

His fingers start to play gently at the hem of your shirt as if asking a question. You nod and he pushes it up, your lips breaking apart only for as long as it takes to pull it over your head before finding each other again.

You reach to do the same for him, but he makes an “uh-uh” noise into your mouth, then pulls away. “I want this to be about you.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, that is incredibly sweet, and it can absolutely be about me. But I think you will severely hurt your chances of bringing me to orgasm if you’re wearing that creamsicle nightmare shirt while you’re doing it."

He raises his eyebrows for a split second like he’s weighing whether or not he should accept that challenge, but then he shrugs with a grin and pulls his shirt off over his head. His body is ridiculous, lithe and toned, and he inhales sharply when you run your hands up his chest.

You realize now, as he unhooks your bra and tosses it off the edge of the bed, then starts to kiss down your jaw, that Jungkook is vocal. He makes these breathy little sighs against your skin as he goes, and when you do something like scratch your nails over his back or dip your head to trace your tongue along his neck, he outright moans. The low, raw sound makes your pussy throb.

Noise during sex has always been weird for you; you felt like guys expected you to be loud, which is hard to do convincingly when you’re nowhere near satisfied. But none of the sounds he’s making now seem in any way performative. You can tell it’s just him enjoying your shared pleasure the same way he does everything– unashamedly.

So when he sucks gently at the place where your neck and shoulder meet, lightly running his piercing over the sensitive skin there, your eyes flutter closed, and you don’t hold back the noise he pulls out of you.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you breathe, and you feel him smile.

You’re overwhelmed by all the different sensations his mouth can make against your skin. He kisses, licks, drags his tongue ring, and bites along your neck and your collarbones, working you until you couldn’t keep quiet even if you wanted to. His hands slide up your waist, coming to cup your breasts, and he tries similar experiments with his thumbs over your nipples: barely-there tapping, then firmer pressure in slow circles, then light pinches that make you gasp and writhe.

He’s clearly educating himself, paying close attention to your responses to figure out the best ways to touch you and take you apart. No one has ever cared this much about what actually felt good to you before; this is a far cry from the half-hearted two minutes of foreplay you’re accustomed to. He really does act like he’s got all the time in the world.

The thought of him touching and kissing you like this for hours is dizzying. Even if he can’t make you come, you don’t fucking care, everything he’s doing still feels incredible. It’s a hell of a lot better than writing a paper.

Jungkook groans into your skin as he mouths down to your breasts, and when he shifts, you can feel his erection grind against your thigh. The knowledge that he’s just as turned on by this as you are, paired with a deft flick of his piercing over your nipple, makes you whine loudly. Your core is already aching to be touched, licked, fucked– anything.

He reaches to unbutton your pants while his lips and tongue still work at the bud of your breast in his mouth. Your hips lift up at his touch and he pulls your jeans down, dropping your nipple from between his teeth so you can kick them the rest of the way off.

His hands slip under the band of your panties with a grunt so heady it’s nearly a growl, but instead of pulling them down, he loops the fabric around his fingers once and pulls up, so the lace is pressed tight against your dripping cunt. Even that small amount of friction makes you whimper, your hips rocking in desperate search of relief.

“Can I take these off?” He pairs the question with another firm tug, so the lace rubs right over your clit as your hips circle.

You don’t even have the breath to answer, you want it so bad; you can only nod.

He pulls your panties off, tossing them to join the rest of your clothes on the floor before moving down between your spread legs. You’re so wet for him now that just his breath on your core is enough to make you moan.

You brush his hair off his forehead and watch as he brings his mouth to your thighs, trailing lips and teeth upwards. With each pass, he comes so close to where you want him, where you need him, but deliberately stops just shy, teasing you. He runs his tongue along the crease where your hip and thigh meet, and the drag of his piercing on your skin makes you cry out, delirious with anticipation.

But then his mouth goes in the wrong direction. Rather than close the small amount of distance left to finally, finally make contact with your cunt, he shifts away from it. His lips and tongue trail back over your hips, your stomach, and up the valley between your breasts. You lift your head in disbelief to watch him, and you don’t think you’re going to make it– you’ve never been denied pleasure like this before. Your eyes start to sting like they might well up with tears.

He keeps going, lips moving from your neck to your jaw and then finally back to your mouth. You turn your head to the side, your breathing ragged.

“Jungkook,” you nearly sob, “please.”

His voice is hoarse when he murmurs in your ear with a dark laugh, “I was wondering how long it would take you to beg for it. You really held out on me.” He kisses you again and you whine in frustration as he sucks on your bottom lip. He pulls away with a smile. “Talk to me. Tell me what you need.”

Your head swims; you try to form words through your desperation. “I– fuck, anything, anything. Please, Jungkook, please.” You sound so wrecked, so needy, but if he wants you to beg, you’ll do it, gladly. You’re going to die if he doesn’t touch you soon. Your hips shudder up against his, your nails dragging down his back.

“Good girl, love it when you say my name like that,” he groans into the crook of your neck, and your pussy clenches around nothing, your brain short-circuiting at the praise.

He doesn’t drag it out any longer– you don’t think you’d survive if he did– and instead just shifts to settle back between your legs. His hands come to your thighs and you’re so keyed up that you jump under his touch as he spreads you wide open. You’re nearly clawing at the bedsheets in preparation to finally feel him after so long, but instead of his fingers or his tongue, something wet hits your clit.

It takes a second for your brain to process that he spit on you. Fuck.

You look up to see him looking at you, wide-eyed, like he’s only just realized what he did. “Sorry, I should’ve asked first. Was that okay?”

It was fucking hot, actually, but you’re so far gone that you can’t make the words happen. You can only nod and roll your hips up toward him.

“Jungkook, please,” you manage to whimper one final time, and he dips his head to press a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs against your skin, “I’ve got you.” And then he closes his lips around your clit.

“Oh my fucking god,” you moan, relief flooding through you like a shot in the arm. His movements aren’t that different from how he first kissed you, gentle and sweet, and your clit throbs when his lip ring rolls over it.

Jungkook’s mouth falls into a steady rhythm, and he’s groaning against your pussy like it feels good for him, too. Enthusiastic is the only way to describe the way he eats you out; you really do believe he could do this all day.

Alternating with the movement of his lips, he starts to incorporate long, slow licks of his tongue across your folds. There’s enough spit and slickness that his piercing slides right over your clit, and it’s a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt before that has you bucking against his mouth. He whines mid-lick when you do, and the vibration rips through you, your back arching in response.

That earns you two of his fingers slipped into your cunt, and for the second time tonight, you think you might die. Your legs start to shake as his fingers curl inside you.

“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you groan. You don’t recognize your own voice; you’ve never made noise like this before, but nothing’s ever felt this good. You’re coming undone in his hands, under his tongue.

He changes up the rhythm on your clit, moving between fluidly swirling his piercing over it and pulling it into his mouth for hard suction. The pleasure is still overwhelming, but something about the switch-up takes you out of your body and into your head, and you falter for a moment.

He’s been at this for a while, and he does seem to be enjoying himself, but even so, you start to feel self-conscious. Are you taking too long? Is his tongue getting tired? What if you still can’t come from this?

Your momentary silence and lack of movement must be enough to send Jungkook’s competitive edge into overdrive, because he grabs your thigh with his free hand as if to pull you even closer and fully buries his face in your cunt.

He flattens his tongue against you and starts to shake his head aggressively, wiggling his tongue with it, and the barbell tapping rhythmically at your clit has you gasping for air and grabbing at the bedsheets.

As if that wasn’t enough, he adds a third finger inside you, slowing down for just a moment to make sure you’re accustomed to the stretch. He runs his free hand up your thigh and lays it flat below your stomach, pressing down firmly on your lower abdomen. You don’t know what to expect– no one’s ever done it to you before, but when he resumes rocking his fingers back and forth against your front wall under that extra pressure, you nearly drench his hand in arousal, it feels so good.

“Fuck, Jungkook, fuck!” You moan, and you wonder if the whole party downstairs can hear. You sound like a goddamn pornstar, the kind of noises that are so ridiculous you’d think they were fake if you weren’t experiencing the insane, all-encompassing pleasure yourself firsthand. Here, in Jungkook’s bed, in his fucking frat house, getting eaten out like you’re his last fucking meal.

You can’t even remember what you were worrying about now. There’s no space left in your brain for it, and your pussy is already starting to flutter around his fingers as you feel the pressure building in your core.

Out of sheer desperation, you wind a hand through his hair and lift your hips up against his mouth, matching his rhythm. He looks up at you and moans around your clit, nodding his head, clearly trying to encourage you without letting his tempo slow.

His breathing is ragged and loud as you grip his hair and rock your hips, bumping your clit against his pierced tongue again and again and again, exactly the way you need it.

Your moans increase in pitch and pace as you feel your orgasm crest. He responds back in time, encouraging you, his voice coming from some raw, primal place as he grunts open-mouthed, “uh-huh, uh-huh” against your clit, and you can hear his fingers working your cunt so well, and it’s all too fucking much.

You come so hard, it makes you question if you’ve ever actually had an orgasm before. Hands gripping at the sheets, toes curling, legs shaking violently, back arching up off the mattress, all with a loud moan that’s more like a sob. You have never in your life felt anything this good.

Jungkook slows but doesn’t stop as the aftershocks roll through you, slowly moving his head up and down to lick flat, long stripes over your clit as you continue to shudder against his face. Your thighs pull together reflexively when you become too sensitive, and that’s when he finally relents, pulling off and out of you.

You stare up at the ceiling, trying to remember how to breathe and wondering if you really did die after all. There’s a loud bang on the door, but you’re too blissed out to even give a fuck, and it’s just one of his frat bros yelling “alright, JK!” from the other side.

At least they’re supportive of a woman’s pleasure, you think, and then you can’t help but laugh at the sheer insanity of it all. Jungkook slides up the bed to lay next to you, and he’s smiling as he wipes his face with his hand.

“I guess you didn’t fake that one, huh?”

You can only shake your head as you struggle to get your breath back.

“Holy shit, I feel like I should say thank you,” you eventually manage, and he laughs his perfect laugh. You roll over to bury your face in his shoulder. “What the fuck, Jungkook– I think I saw my life flash before my eyes. That was fucking crazy.”

Jungkook flips onto his side facing you, propped up on one arm, his other hand gently running back and forth along the curve of your waist. “What can I say? I play to win.” He can’t hide his satisfied smile as the official winner of your first ever non-solo orgasm.

You lean against him, allowing your eyes to close again as your pulse slows, and you sigh contentedly as he presses his lips to your hairline.

“What time is it?” He asks after a few minutes. “Do you need to go write your paper?”

You tilt back to shoot him a death glare. “Do not mention my fucking paper right now, Jeon Jungkook. I’m trying to bask in the glow here.”

He laughs again and pulls you closer. “My bad.”

“And besides,” your face softens, and your eyes trace down to his hand that’s now gently palming over the front of his pants, where you can see the bulge of his erection. “I believe you promised me hours.”

He raises his eyebrows slightly. “Oh, I’ll give you hours.”

Your pussy doesn’t feel anywhere near recovered, but you’re somehow also aching for him to fuck you. If that was only his head game, you genuinely don’t think you’ll survive sex with Jungkook. But you’re willing to die trying.

“Come here,” his voice returns to that near-growl and he crawls over you, one hand cupping your jaw as he brings his lips to yours.

This time when his thigh presses between your legs, it’s on purpose. Your clit still twitches at the contact, but the pressure is indirect enough that it only feels good, and you rock your hips slowly into him.

You’re desperate to see him, touch him, return the favor, and your hand slips between your bodies to grab him through his pants. You whine against his lips when you feel how thick he is in your hand, and you pull little gasps out of him as you slowly start to pump him over the fabric.

“Please fuck me, Jungkook,” you whisper when you break apart, begging for it the way you’ve learned he likes, your hand still working him.

He bites down hard on your neck with a laugh, like he can’t believe you’re real.

You start to unbutton and push down his pants and then he flips onto his back to do the rest, shedding pants and boxers at the same time. You can’t help but giggle a little at his apparent urgency, pleased that he needs you just as bad, as he yanks his nightstand drawer out, retrieves a condom, and rips it open with his teeth.

But that urgency is gone once he’s hovering over you, cock teasing at your entrance, your knees bent and legs spread for him. It’s replaced by that same look in his eyes, those same gentle kisses, and arousal pooling in your belly at the realization that he really could do this for hours. But you need him now.

“Please,” you whisper one more time, and he groans against your throat as he pushes into you.

His pace is slow, hips rolling fluidly, and you’re still so sensitive that your walls flutter around him with each thrust. The thickness of his cock feels just as good as you thought it would. You moan loudly, arching back against the pillow, as his head drags over your sweet spot.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he groans, his voice ragged. He keeps rolling his hips, stroking so slow and deep that it’s pleasure and torture all in one.

Jungkook must be a fast learner, because when he thrusts into you one more time and you whine in response, the same strangled noise you made when he teased your cunt, he knows what you need. You don’t even have to beg for it.

His hands slide along the backs of your thighs and he pushes, just a little, folding your legs up so your pelvis tilts to give him full access to your cunt. And then he picks up the pace.

The pleasure is overwhelming as he bottoms out inside you over and over, and you’re already close to the edge of a second climax. You rake your nails down his back and his hips move even faster, both of you moaning with every thrust. The sound of skin on skin is so loud it’s obscene; there’s no way the whole party doesn’t know what you’re up to by now.

You don’t give a shit. You hope they’re all jealous.

Your legs start to shake as the pressure in your core builds, and you’re suddenly in dire need of release all over again. You move to reach a hand down between your legs, but Jungkook doesn’t miss a thing.

He lets go of one of your thighs to knock your hand away, replacing it with his own, his thrusts never slowing. You watch this time as he spits on your clit again, and then starts to rub circles over it.

It’s a touch you’ve felt before, fast and hard, usually performed by a guy who has no idea what he’s doing, and usually painful as all hell.

But Jungkook is very obviously a fucking expert in his field, and he must know that when you’re as slick as you are from his mouth and your own arousal, and you’ve already come once, and you’re this insanely turned on and desperate for it, it doesn’t hurt at all. Your hips lift up off the bed because right now, it’s fucking perfect.

“Oh my fucking god, Jungkook, fuck, yes, don’t stop–” you cry out, and your last moan is nearly a scream as you come all the way undone for him. Your cunt squeezes tightly around his length, and he only has to rut into you a few more times before he’s coming, too, with a loud groan of your name.

His head drops onto your shoulder as he finishes, gasping for breath. You lean back against the pillows, still shuddering a little but entirely spent, fucked out of your mind.

You’re only vaguely aware of what’s happening when he pulls out of you, or when the bed shifts as he gets up to dispose of the condom, then collapses back down next to you with a dazed sigh.

You roll into him, still lost for words, and he wraps both arms around you. You can hear his heart thudding hard in his chest, the same tempo as yours.

A laugh rips through you as you play the last few moments back and remember his hand shoving your own away. You look up at him. “So what are you, in charge of my orgasms now? Did I sign a contract tonight?”

“No,” he gives a small smile, and you see a blush creep up his neck at the reminder of something done clearly in the heat of the moment. “I don’t know. No one had ever made you come once before, so… I just wanted to do it twice. Set a new number to beat.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the grin on your face. “I’m not a video game, Jungkook.”

“Nope,” he laughs, tightening his grip around you. “You are so much better.” He ducks down to kiss you gently.

You’re still smiling when he moves to rest his chin on your head. “And you are better than my vibrator.”

There’s a comfortable pause, and then you decide you may as well do what you do best and ruin everything. “So, is now the time when I ask you the phrase that every frat boy dreads to hear?” You start, and he’s already looking at you when you glance up again. “What are we?”

He shrugs, looking totally nonplussed. “That’s up to you. I will literally go out there right now and announce to the entire party that you’re my girlfriend and I’m the first man to ever make you come, if that’s what you want.”

You press your face to his chest and laugh self-consciously. “Well, I think they already know about the second part. I wasn’t exactly quiet.”

His lips brush against your temple. “Don’t be. I want them all to know who’s fucking you right.”

You sigh, wondering how on earth this kid is real. There’s a big part of you, especially with the high of two orgasms rattling around in your brain, that wants to take the leap right now, straight into the unknown. You want to trust him fully, but you’re still scared of the uncertainty, the potential for disaster. It’s been a long time since you let someone all the way in.

“But the G word…” you say nervously. “That’s a lot for me, at least right now.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says simply, and when you meet his gaze, the look on his face betrays no hurt feelings or hidden agenda. It makes you feel like it really is okay. “We can be whatever you want,” he continues. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You can feel yourself getting emotional, and you bring your cheek to his chest again, hoping he can’t tell. “Well, whatever label we put on it, you are eating me out like that at least once a week.”

“Once a week?” He huffs softly. “How about once a day?” He shifts slightly to trail kisses along your neck. “Actually,” he murmurs in your ear, “I could go for seconds right now…”

You laugh and shove against his chest. “Hey, I’m still getting used to this brave new world over here. If you make me come again tonight I think I might literally die in your bed.” He relents with a smug smile and a kiss pressed to your cheek.

“But if you wanted to wake me up that way tomorrow…” you offer, and he gets that goddamn look in his eyes, the one that may forever be known as the look that ruined your life.

“Oh, I think we can make that happen.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook x y/n #bts smut #bts x reader #the spins

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kasssscali · 8 months

Note

Hi there, @anna99blog here, coming in to ask for a request, is that's alright with you.

Do you know the scene in Disney's Aladdin where Aladdin returns Princess Jasmine to the palace after an evening together and the Magic Carpet gives him a push to kiss Jasmine? Well, how about something like that with Netflix Monkey King and the reader?

They get back from a romantic evening and they decided to stay at a inn/camp out for the night (whichever you prefer) and they tell each other goodnight. When they slowly start to lean in, Stick gives the push and then fireworks go off when their lips touch.

I hope this is okay and not too much for you to handle. Have a good day/night to you

oh this is good shit right here to write, don’t worry this isn’t a lot

Also thank you, very much appreciated <3

It took him some balls to finally ask you out

”Heyy, I was thinkin’ how about you and me go out for tonight? Y’know! Just you and me?”

you questioned if this was a date, and he said it wasn’t, it was just you guys hanging out alone

the night you two went out was actually the most fun Monkey King ever got to share with someone, he’s been alone a lot throughout most of his life and was rejected by everyone

his worst fear was you were going to reject him like everyone else did

but you didn’t, and the night was a blast

he’s a tease, and he teased you a lot like poking and making certain jokes to get on your nerves

that’s his love language, and you know that and laugh along with him

Monkey wants you to have fun, he’s scared of boring you on the date

I don’t think Monkey is the type to want to sit down at a restaurant surrounded by a bunch of people for a romantic evening

he wants one on one with you, he wants your full attention and doesn’t want you to get even a little distracted by commotion around you

most of the date will be him carrying you bridal style flying around on the stick

To tease you even more he might pretend you drop you “HA! Gotcha! C’mon you didn’t REALLY think I was going to drop you?”

And to finish off the night, it was your idea to camp with him for the night

Monkey gently lowers you having your feet firmly on the ground with no tricks this time

You tell him goodnight and how your grateful to have spent time with him

“Who wouldn’t want to spend time with me?” Monkey really is touched that you agreed, he doesn’t want to show his vulnerable side so don’t be surprised with his remarks

Monkey will admit it was fun, and say goodnight, and you both start leaning it

Monkey is hypnotized by your eyes that he doesn’t even know he’s leaning in

Stick being the best friend/wingman jumps out of Monkey‘s hand and pushes him

Your lips make contact, and let me tell you Monkey King’s eyes go wide

he doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t pull away, he doesn’t close his eyes he just stares at you

he’s waiting for you to make a move

Monkey is surprised to see you close your eyes and begin kissing him, he loves the way you caress his side burns while kissing him

he’ll finally close his eyes and kiss you back tilting his head into it

you have to be the first to pull away, he could kiss you into eternity but you would die from lack of breathing :)

when you pull away Monkey is in awe, he’s scratching the back of his head and he’s just thinking about that kiss

you both say goodnight and depart

”STICK BUDDY!” Of course he’s doing his little dance “your the best!”

#monkey king #sun wukong #journey to the west #jttw #jttw monkey king #monkey king 2023 #sun wukong x reader #monkey king netflix #wukong #jttw sun wukong #monkey king x reader

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pimosworld · 9 months

Text

The story of us chapter 5

Triple frontier boys x f!reader

Summary- Set before you and the boys are officially together and how you came to be.

Chapter summary- Frankie takes you flying and your relationship to new heights.

CW- 18+,MDNI, to avoid spoilers I will be posting a link for warnings. Link

WK-6k

Notes- See story Masterlist for full chapter notes. This chapter was so fun to write, my first time writing a solo Frankie. He starts off shy but quickly gains his confidence.

Not beta read

[Series Masterlist] [Main Masterlist]

Chapter V Flying without Falling

————————————

11:54 pm

Frankie can’t sleep as he lies awake staring at the ceiling fan. Every creak and noise the house makes has him on edge. He shouldn’t care this much but it’s starting to get under his skin and root itself deep somewhere he dare not explore. Before he can fully run away with his intrusive thoughts he hears the front door open and close. He breathes a sigh of relief knowing Benny actually came home after your date.

Maybe Santi was right,he shouldn’t be this jealous of his best friends going on a date. But jealousy doesn’t seem like the right word either, he wants to be included, he couldn’t possibly go on as a spectator if you decided to have a relationship. It’s entirely too late for all these thoughts and he’s getting way ahead of himself.

He would call you normally when his thoughts ran wild. Why would now be any different? The only difference now is that he knows you’ll pick up. Over the last several months that certainly wasn’t the case. Before he can second guess himself he picks up his phone and calls you.

****

You’re seated on your couch staring at the blank screen of the tv replaying the night in your head. You really should go wash your face and get some sleep but you can’t stop thinking about that kiss. You can’t stop thinking about everything he did for you. The feeling was so alien being treated as if you were a Disney princess. Ben was always sweet but this was a side of him you’ve never seen. You could definitely get used to it.

Incoming call Francisco

“Hey Frankie, is everything okay?” Your voice is laced with concern at this late hour he’s calling.

“Ugh…ya I’m sorry I called so late.” I just wanted to hear your voice. “I just needed to talk to you about something.”

“Okay.” At midnight? You wait patiently for his response.

“So how was your date?” Jesus Francisco you just couldn’t help yourself. He thinks you're silent for a little too long, maybe he can just hang up and pretend this never happened.

“It was really nice actually, but is that why you called?” You don’t want to give too many details, it just seems odd to talk about with him right now.

“No…I guess I should just spit it out. I got my license back and I start in a few days but I’m nervous.” He has to hold the phone away from his ear before he goes deaf at your excited squeal.

“Frankie, that's amazing, how come you didn’t tell us yesterday?” You can hear indistinct rustling on the other end.

“I didn’t think it was appropriate with everything going on…last night didn’t exactly scream tell everyone your good news.”

“That’s sweet of you but I would’ve genuinely been excited with all the drama that went on. Life doesn’t revolve around me and my shitty dating life.” It kind of pains you that he put off such a happy announcement to not take attention off you. You know how hard he’s been working to get his license back and this means everything to him. Losing his license was like stripping his identity from him.

“Listen hermosa, I know it’s last minute but I remember you saying you have tomorrow off…would you be willing to be my first passenger. I don’t want to be rusty in front of the clients on my first day.” He knows you know he’s full of shit. He is the most competent pilot and there’s no way he’s rusty. You’ve seen him in the deadliest situations somehow be cool, calm and collected.

“Of course Frankie, I would love to.” You’re certain he doesn’t need any practice but you decide to play along, it’s adorable when he’s nervous.

“Meet me at our house around noon and I’ll drive us to the site.”

“That sounds like a plan…you should get some sleep if you’re gonna be flying us safely tomorrow.” A little teasing goes a long way with him and you just can’t help yourself.

“Very funny, I’ll see you tomorrow Honey good night.”

“Goodnight Francisco.”

Sleep would not come easily for either of you that night.

****

Frankie’s not sure how much sleep he got last night, tossing and turning thinking about you. Trying not to think about how his life ended up the way it did. It was hard not to be in his head about his setbacks and inadequacies. He’s a grown man living with his two best friends. He should be able to afford a place on his own and be more independent, but he managed to fuck that up with this coke charge and losing his license.

He really needed to relax and not let his thoughts run away with him. It wouldn’t be any help today.

He rolls out of bed suddenly more aware of every ache and pain in his body, it’s hard to say when he noticed himself getting older. He’s been ready for some time to settle down but had all but given up on finding something worthwhile.

He pads down the hallway already hearing the clanking of dishes and the strong smell of coffee.

He enters the kitchen to see the two fit shirtless blondes, one more thing to be insecure about.

“Mornin’ Fish.” Will looks up at him from his seat at the table. Frankie gives him a half smile as he slides into the seat across from him.

“Rough night?” You could say that

“Ya, didn’t sleep much. I was up worried about today.”

“What’s happening today?” Benny joins at the table sliding a cup of coffee to him. He scrubs a hand behind his neck deciding what approach to take with the news.

“Well I’m flying today. I got my license back.” Will looks up from his phone wide eyed as Benny jumps up nearly knocking the table over.

“Holy shit man that’s amazing, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was afraid it might not happen so I wanted to wait…I found out Friday and ugh Saturday didn’t seem like the right time to mention it.” Ben and Will exchange glances, neither of them needing to say why.

“So you start today,what’s your schedule like?” Will stands from the table to refill his coffee.

“No…I start tomorrow. I’m taking Honey up today to practice.” Lies

“Bullshit.” Ben leans back in his chair crossing his arms as Will tries to contain his laughter. Frankie mimics Ben's posture as he stares him down.

“You and I both know you don’t need practice.I do have to admit though, a helicopter is a nice move.”

Frankie relaxes a little at the teasing Ben gives him. The younger man is obviously not bothered by it, he almost seems happy for him.

“We’ll Benjamin we can’t all have rock hard abs, some of us have to pull out other means of flattery.”

“Well Fish I’m happy for you and I hope you enjoy your date.” There’s no tone of sarcasm or anything to suggest that he’s lying.

Will stands there in awe and shock at the absurdity of it all. How could they possibly be this chill about dating the same woman let alone you?

“Speaking of dates, how was yours?” He raises an eyebrow at him playfully.

“I know you’ve been dying to ask. It was great, we saw a movie and went to the diner for burgers and shakes and then I dropped her off at home.” He’s not sure if he should include the last part. The conversations have been going well so far.

“What a modern day romance and you even had her home by curfew.” Ben flips him off as he stands from the table.

“I was gonna let you off easy but since you want to tease, I did get a good night kiss.” Will grabs his chest in fake shock.

“Good for you bud.” Frankie pays him on the shoulder as he stands. He can’t help but grin thinking about what he heard when you were in the shower. A sudden burst of confidence flows through his veins.

“As much as I’d love to watch this sad pissing contest, we need to get to the gym Ben.”

“Alright coach.” He pulls Frankie into a hug before heading down the hallway. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He calls out from over his shoulder.

Will just rolls his eyes as Frankie retreats back to his room on the opposite end of the house.

Maybe this could work out after all.

****

Here you are again, tossing clothes about your room undecided on what to wear. This is supposed to be a casual day with Frankie and you can’t seem to get your head on straight. Let’s not add to the fact that you can’t be late.

It’s a beautiful sunny day in Florida so you decide to throw on some jean shorts, your army tank top and some black slip on vans. There’s no time to overthink this as you run out to the door to head to their house. You left yourself enough time to stop and grab something for Frankie, you were technically celebrating getting his license back and you wanted to surprise him.

You pull up to the pristine suburban home they all share, you know Will had every attention to detail to keep the Miller family home in great condition. You have a slight panic when you see that Ben's truck is still in the driveway, you weren’t quite ready to confront what it is you were doing. To be honest you weren’t entirely sure if you knew yourself.

Frankie sees you pull up, he’s been pacing around the living room unable to relax. The excited nervous energy coursing through his veins at the thought of flying again and seeing you.

You can see Frankie leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed, he has a well fitted black shirt and blue jeans with his signature cap on. He’s just smiling at you as you make your way up the path to their house.

“I’m not that late am I?” You’re swinging the small gift bag back and forth on your finger as you hold it out to him.

“No but I saw you pull up and got excited.” He’s practically beaming at you. The happiest you’ve seen him in a long time. “I hope whatever’s in that bag is not for me.”

“You’ll just have to open it and find out.” He grabs the bag from you slowly peeking inside, a medium size black box reveals some brand new aviator sunglasses.

“You didn’t have to do this.” You can hear the slight quiver in his voice and you’re so happy with your choice.

“I’m getting a free tour in the sky, it’s the least I could do.” He pulls you into a tight hug and you inhale his fresh woodsy scent, you recognize it as the body wash you bought him because you insisted he stop using the 3in1 crap that Ben used.

You’re standing in the doorway, neither of you wanting to break the hug, you lightly scratch your nails as you rub his back and a low growl emits from his chest on your cheek.

“We need to go before I change my mind.” He grabs your hand and places a kiss on your fingers before turning around to lock up.

Ben must not be home, thankfully you can deal with that later and just enjoy your afternoon with the old Frankie who seems to be making an appearance.

Frankie jogs ahead of you when you head towards his truck to open the door, he already has his sunglasses on and you curse under your breath a little at the sight. You’ve inadvertently made this day even harder for yourself now that you have to try not to ogle him, but the way his muscles flex in his shirt and the way his jeans are fitting you find your resolve breaking little by little.

You hop in the front seat and just before he closes the door he stops and stares at you. “I forgot to tell you how good you look today.” Fuck you’re not gonna make it.

The ride to the airfield is mostly spent in comfortable silence as you both trade glances at each other, it was so easy with him to just be. No expectations or insecurities. You often wondered how women didn’t realize what a catch he was, you’re glad in this moment no one has stuck around long enough to see what a massive failure it was to let this man go.

****

You were making it so hard for him to focus as you made your way to the chopper he was using for the day. The army tank top and short shorts doing nothing to hide your curves.

He could tell you were carrying yourself differently than the other day. A part of him was grateful for your date with Benny that seemed to bring some peace to your otherwise chaotic weekend.

A helicopter used to bring the sight of hell for the both of you, going on missions unsure if you would make it out alive, but now the way you turn and smile at him, practically bouncing with excited energy he thinks it may be heaven.

“We’ll see if I remember how to fly one of these.” You can almost see the faint wink behind his aviators as he holds the door open for you and you climb into the comfy leather seat. He buckles you in tugging on the straps to make sure they’re secure. He’s desperately trying to keep this as professional as possible but he sees the way you’re looking at him and he just wants to lean in and kiss you. He tears himself away closing the door behind him before he loses all form of concentration.

You wanted him too, and he almost did but you know he needs to focus. Even though he’s flown much larger aircrafts than this countless times, he still doesn’t want to jeopardize his second chance at life. And if you’re correct about your assumption there would be plenty of time for that.

“You know I have strapped myself in a few times.” He’s focused on the task at hand but you can see him smirking as he flips to switches and waits for the all clear to take off.

“I know you have hermosa but I’m supposed to be practicing so just pretend you’re a passenger.

What is it with these boys and pretending? You’ll play along since it worked out in your benefit the last time.

He hands you a headset before doing a final once over and you can feel that familiar drop in your stomach as you lift up. The thrum of the blades all you can hear at the moment. He always made it look so easy and he’s all but confirmed how little practice he actually needed.

Something about finally being in the sky again has his confidence soaring. He can feel it in his bones, the man he used to be trying to make an appearance. He’s trying to focus but he can’t stop looking at the way you smile when you see something you like. He misses seeing you like this, happy to be in the air. Although he doesn’t miss the reasons why you used to be in a helicopter.

You’re trying to take in the sights, but you can’t help but stare at Frankie. The way he’s controlling this massive machine with ease. You can see it in the way he relaxes. His shoulders seem less tense. That smile you loved so much has returned without the slight underlying sadness. It’s intoxicating seeing him like this.

“I missed seeing you in that seat next to me.” He glances over in enough time to notice you smile to yourself.

You fly for a while just taking in the sight below, this was a version of your city you’ve never seen before and it’s truly mesmerizing. It breaks your heart knowing what he had to go through to get back to this place. Everyone has dealt with their demons in their own way. His demons almost took the most important things in his life away from him.

He doesn’t think he’s been this happy flying, seeing your face light up when you spot something you recognize or the fact that you so willingly agreed to come with him and make this day as special as possible.

“You’re pretty good with your hands Mr. Morales.” He raises an eyebrow at you wondering if the altitude has gone to your head. He needs to be safely on the ground if you’re going to call him that again.

“I’m a pretend passenger, remember.”

“My real passenger is an 80 year old man, I hope he doesn’t comment on how good I am with my hands.” You snort into the headset before erupting into full blown laughter and there it is again, that laugh that would bring any man to his knees.

“You mean to tell me you’ve never flirted with a passenger?” He glances at you nervously playing with your straps over your chest as you look out below.

“There was one time.”

“Well I hope it ended well for you.” You can see you’re almost back to the airfield and your heart drops a little at the day coming to an end.

Let’s hope it does end well for me.

****

“So,what are your plans for the rest of the day?” He didn’t want to assume as he awaits your answer, suddenly so focused on the road as you make your way back to their house.

“I don’t have anything planned, I wasn’t sure if you had things you needed to take care of for tomorrow?” He looks a little confused and you can’t help but laugh at the deep crease in his brow.

“You know your first day back at work.”

“Oh, everything is all squared away. Although I was hoping you might want to stay a little while, I can make us lunch.” He sounds a little timid again but when you grab his hand not placed on the steering wheel and kiss his palm all his worries are washed away.

“I would say these hands have done enough today but I would be stupid if I said no to anything you cook.” He has other plans for you and his hands but he needs to focus on one thing at a time first lunch.

He already had a full plan for lunch that would’ve turned into Will and Bennys dinner if you decided not to stay. The conversation flowed easy as you both enjoyed grilled shrimp tacos and homemade ceviche. You hadn’t spent this much time together in months, it seemed you had a lot to catch up on.

You both confided in each other, it was so easy to talk about life and issues without being judged. The more Mike pulled you away left a gaping hole in both of your lives. You couldn’t possibly go back to that again.

Frankie’s washing the dishes, your plates having been completely cleared and has to stop what he’s doing at the sound of your obscenely loud yawn. He can’t help but laugh at your wide eyed expression, you obviously just as surprised by it as he was.

“I’m sorry, I’m just so content after that meal and honestly I got no sleep last night.” He dries his hands and makes his way over to you seated at the kitchen island. A mischievous glint in his eye.

“I have a bizarre request and you can say no if you want to. Seeing as though we both got zero sleep last night, do you want to take a nap?”

“Yes!” You groan internally at your enthusiastic response.

He had a surge of confidence at your response as he got impossibly closer, stepping between your legs as he rubbed his hands up and down your thighs in a soothing motion. He leans in and you close your eyes bracing yourself for a kiss when you suddenly feel his lips brush your ear.

“Bed or couch?” You’re not certain you can breathe with the way his voice drops to a low register. His hands are like fire on your exposed thighs so close to where you want him to touch you.

“Couch?” It comes out in a breathy whisper as you attempt to clear your throat. “I think the couch is safer.”

He hasn’t so much as moved an inch and with his close proximity you’re afraid he can hear your heart beating out of your chest.

“Couch it is, but I’m not sure if it’s safer.” He takes your hand and guides you off the stool and it feels like you’re floating as you make your way to the living room. He sits in the corner, defaulting to his favorite spot despite having a choice of anywhere. He practically pulls you down with him as you settle in facing him with your head resting on his extended arm. Many a movie night you’ve fallen asleep in this exact position, but this feels different.

He pulls the blanket off the back of the couch to cover you as sleep already threatens to claim you. The sound of his steady heartbeat and the smell that you could only describe as him lulling you to sleep.

He doesn’t even think you realize you’re rubbing his back as you muzzle deeper into his chest, the feeling so domestic it makes his chest hurt a little. It’s like a knot that’s formed over time trying to loosen itself the further into sleep he goes. He only remembers the smell of your shampoo and your slow breaths before exhaustion takes him under.

****

The house is quiet…so quiet that he knows Ben and Will definitely aren’t home yet. The sun is still up but casting the orange hue that tells him it’s late in the afternoon. He doesn’t want to move too much because you’re still sleeping so peacefully. He is aware however that you have moved in your sleep, draping your leg over him like he’s a human body pillow.

Perhaps it’s a wicked Pavlovian response that his body betrays him in the moment as you're pinned against him. He’s growing harder in his jeans and every attempt to move you only causes you to stir further, involuntarily grinding your hips into him in a steady slow motion.

You’re having that dream again but this time it feels so real, too real as you feel the hard press of Frankie’s cock against your core. This time when you wake it’s not like a bucket of cold water being thrown on you. It’s softer, more intentional.

“Honey….honey?” It’s a little disorienting, but you can still smell him and see the light coming through the windows. You must not have slept for very long. You can feel his thumb tracing lines across your cheek and slowly register him saying your name. The sensation you were feeling in your dream hasn’t dissipated and you don’t dare look down as your haze begins to lift.

“I think you were having a dream.” His sleepy voice barely above a whisper. “You kept saying my name.” It seems you’re both in a predicament, him more so than you since he’s not actually in your head and you can feel evidently what’s pressed against you.

You hope maybe a change in subject will make him drop it or at the very least get the hint. It didn’t seem like the appropriate time to tell him that you can’t stop having sex dreams about your best friends.

“You know…you didn’t seem like you needed any practice today.” You shift on the couch to look up at him.

“Maybe I told a little white lie.” He’s staring at you, a question hanging in the air of do you want this? He hasn’t moved his hand from your face as he slowly tilts it up further and leans in for a tender kiss. He’s been waiting all day, resisting the urge to kiss you the moment he opened his gift.

He’s waiting for you to pull away or say you don’t want this but that moment never comes as the soft kiss turns into a fight to get impossibly closer. His patience wore thin at the way you were saying his name in your sleep. Your hands are in his hair as he deepens this kiss, both of you trading moans in between breathing. He grips the thigh that’s slung over his hip as he pins you beneath him, the heavy comfortable weight of him grinding you into the couch.

You hate your brain for making you aware of your dry humping session being in the shared residence of the man you were also dating?

“Wait…wait, I have a confession.” He stops suddenly hoping he hadn’t totally fucked this up by going to far. The moment feels like an eternity as he lets you catch your breath.

“I kissed Benny.” You’re bracing yourself for the moment he rolls off you and asks you to leave but he drops his head to your shoulder as he chuckles in your ear.

“Well just consider it even, since I’ve kissed Benny too.” Oh now he wants to make jokes.

“Yes I’m aware but it wasn’t less than 24 hours ago.” He raises an eyebrow at you and you silently curse yourself for assuming. “Unless it was…”

“I’m just kidding, I had to mess with you a little.” You swat his chest playfully and breathe a sigh of relief. “Let’s just say Benny and I have come to a friendly agreement.

You’re not entirely sure what that means but you couldn’t care less as long as they know what’s going on even if you didn’t.

You try to pull him towards you again but he braces his right arm beside your head to stay upright, his left hand not having left your thigh throughout the interaction.

“I suppose if we’re being honest…I have a confession.” His tongue peeks out on his bottom lip as he mulls over how to approach, he has no idea how tempting it looks.

“I was going to wake you up yesterday but you were already in the shower.” Your throat is suddenly dry and your shoulders tense. “ I thought you were crying so I hesitated and then…I heard you say my name.”

There was no playing this off, not like your dream where he knew you were sleeping. This was perhaps the most mortified you’ve ever been. You wish you were anywhere but pinned under his literal and figurative gaze.

“I can explain.” No you can’t

“Tell me.” You try to move out from underneath him but he doesn’t budge.

“Frankie this isn’t fair.”

“No hermosa, you know what’s not fair.” His hand is slowly making its way up your thigh and your breathing is ragged.

“You had to take care of yourself when the hands you wanted to touch you were just on the other side of the door.” You don’t know when you lost control of the situation but here you are, stuck under him. He’s waiting for you to tell him to stop but your body has other plans and your lips won’t move.

“Now tell me.” It’s not a question and this side of him has you faltering.

“Tell you what?” He leans down to kiss your lips but pulls away just as fast.

“What you were doing when you said my name.” He can’t be serious

He’s searching your eyes for any sign you want this to stop but all he finds are your lust blown pupils. He decides upon seeing your excitement to try a different approach.

“Show me.” He waits to see if he made the right choice and you slowly move your hand from around his neck. No one has ever made you this nervous and excited at the same time. His confidence awakened something in you that you didn’t know existed. You slowly start to unbutton your shorts, never breaking eye contact. You can see his chest rising and falling, his resolve breaking a little spurring you on.

You dip your hand under the waistband of your lace panties, thanking yourself for being a little too optimistic about where the afternoon might lead. His eyes trail down your front as he battles with watching your face and watching where your hand has disappeared. He shifts to the side to give you room as you slowly circle your clit with your middle finger. A small whimper escapes your lips and any embarrassment has been replaced with chasing this high.

You drag your finger through your slit as you dip a finger in trying to reach that spot at this awkward angle, you whine in frustration because your fingers aren’t enough with the way he’s been subtly working you up all afternoon.

He grabs your wrist and gently pulls your hand out of your shorts, you're wrapped in his every movement as he brings your fingers to his mouth to lick and suck every last drop from them.

“Let me show you.” His hands seem so much larger than yours as they make their way down your breast and across your abdomen, his trail painstakingly slow but you wouldn’t dare rush this moment.

He dips his hand into your shorts, dragging his fingers across your soft lace panties. “Frankie please…” You're hanging on by a thread and you need him to stop teasing you.

“You’re so sensitive, I’ve barely touched you.” You’re having deja because he’s said that before…or was that your dream. He dips one finger into your entrance as you arch your back. It’s too much and not enough as if he senses your frustration he plunges a second finger in slowly pumping in and out.

You drop your head onto the pillow as you softly moan his name. You can feel his cock grinding into your hip as he picks up the pace. He swallows your moans with his lips on yours. His name has never sounded sweeter than it does now as you chant his name. You’re ratcheted too tight as you feel the coil build, his fingers press down on the soft bundle of nerves and your toes curl in a blinding orgasm. You’re not sure when you gripped his hair like a lifeline as you slowly untangle your fingers while you come down from your high.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the way you said my name.” He’s placing soft kisses on your neck as he removes his hand, you’re suddenly feeling a little bold as you can feel how patient he was being. You palm his bulge through his jeans and he bucks his hip, groaning your name.

The sound of car doors slamming have you both looking at each other wide eyed. He grabs your hand and places it around his waist. “I need you to pretend to be asleep.” You open your mouth to speak but he shushes you with a kiss as he flings the blanket back over you both. Your pants are still unbuckled and he’s still very hard but right now as the keys jingle in the door you figure you can deal with it later.

The front door opens and you bury your face into his chest to hide your laughter at having to pretend once again. Ben’s yelling about something per usual as you hear Will shush him.

“Awww they look so peaceful.” You can feel Frankie squeeze your hip and it’s taking everything to calm your breathing. His chest is rising and falling steadily as he squeaks out a fake snore. He may seem peaceful but you can feel his rapid heartbeat against your cheek.

You hear footsteps getting further away and voices trailing as they make their way to the kitchen. Frankie can hear the fridge open and close and the sound of the water in the sink running.

“Can you button your shorts without moving too much?” He whispers into your temple. You nod your head as you slowly move your hand down to button them again, you try your best to avoid his problem that seems to be less obvious. When you’re finally decent you sit up peeking over the back of the couch. You signal for him to sit up and he hears footsteps approaching. He raises his arms above his head dramatically, stretching as you do your best-I just woke up eyes. It’s all ridiculously hilarious

“Good evening sleepyheads.” Ben plops down next to you on the couch and you sit up fully now in the middle of both men.

“Do you ugh…want some water?” Frankie’s standing to stretch now, his little belly exposed as his shirt lifts and you notice he’s still got a slight bulge but nothing that couldn’t be explained by how close you were sleeping.

“Yes please.” Your voice is a little hoarse from your nap or moaning Frankie’s name for too long.

He leaves you two on the couch and heads to the kitchen as Benny pulls you into his side and places a kiss on your temple. This has to be a record for times getting deja vu in one day.

“How was your date?” So they must’ve come to an agreement like Frankie said because he just called it a date without any malice in his tone. Just genuine curiosity and care.

“It was great actually.” Frankie returns with your water and sits back down next to you on the opposite side. He doesn’t seem bothered at all by you cuddling up with Ben and it’s bizarre territory you’re wading into.

“Well I hope you showed our girl a good time.” You’re sputtering your water as Frankie hides his amused face behind his hand. Ben is patting your back as Will enters the living room with beers in hand.

“Are you okay?” He hands the beers around as he tries to offer you one but you wave him off.

“I’m fine…but I really should be going. I have work early tomorrow and I really should get some sleep.” You all stand from the couch unsure of how to say goodbye.

Frankie pulls you into a hug and places a kiss on your forehead. “At least you got a nap today.” He winks at you and you pinch his side knowing he can’t make a sound.

“Don’t hog her, she was with you all day.” Ben picks you up as you yelp, he couldn’t resist that sound. He carefully sets you down and leans in to kiss your cheek.

You turn to see Will in the loveseat sipping his beer with an amused smirk on his face. “I swear to god Will.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender as both men are snickering beside you.

“I didn’t say anything sweetheart.” You make your way towards the door to grab your bag off the hook and you can feel all eyes on you. “ I’ll see you Friday to fix that hole in your wall.”

“Will…”

“Don’t argue with him, it'll only make your life harder.” Ben knows his brother all too well so you decide to take his advice and drop it.

“Fine, I’ll call you later.”

“Okay.” They all say in unison and erupt in laughter.

As you close the door behind you still hearing the faint sounds of your boys you realize how completely and utterly fucked you truly are.

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slut4sugu · 10 months

Text

𝐄!𝟏𝟔𝟏𝟎 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐁𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

Miles morales x Black!fem reader

Including: aged up!characters, shy miles (at first), toothrotting fluff, Gwen being kinda jealous, nicknames/pet names: princesa, bonito, (pretty), mami

🎸: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐑𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧 - 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐢

FIRST FEW WEEKS

Very nervous but a sweetheart nonetheless! Always asks to hold your hand before doing so, never to fail to treat your touch like the most fragile glass. Once he does get permission to hold you hand he always gets nervous about if he’s holding it too tight or if his hand is sweating.

You always reassure him that he doesn’t have to ask to hold your hand and that there isn’t a wrong way to hold someone’s hand, “Miles its fine! See?” You squeezed his hand tightly with a smile, making the teen feel more at ease.

Since you both were friends for a while before dating when miles was out being Spider-Man with Gwen you would come up in conversation, “She’s really sweet and my mom loves her and I- I don’t know I think i really like her.” Gwen wouldn’t outright show her jealousy towards how miles slowly started to obviously like you, but hobie and pav could see she definitely was growing tired of being nice about hearing mikes talk about you.

Gwen got to ‘hang out’ with you once, she had swung by miles’s place one day, you were there on his bed wearing his shirt that was big on you, and drawing in his book. You jolted at her presence before realizing who she was, “Oh you must be Gwen! Miles told me so much about you, oh and you might not wanna make too much noise Ms. Morales is here.” You stated, relaxing back onto Miles’s bed. Gwen was surprised, you seemed pretty chill despite her unknown dislike for you at first. “Thanks, uhm where’s miles? I meant to give him his sweater back.” She said, awaiting your reaction to seeing your boyfriend give another girl his sweater. You sat up, putting your pencil and book to the side. “Oh that shit! Bonito said he was looking for that damn thing. Thanks blondie.” You got up from the bed, revealing the small pair of shorts you had on, making Gwen look away for a brief moment. You took it from her with a smile and put it on his bed, before asking with slight attitude, “Anything else you need, Chica?”

Gwen hardly came by unannounced after that day </3

Whenever you and miles were walking on the sidewalk, and you were closer to the street he’d (unintentionally) have his hand on your waist and guide you over to switch places with him. “Just keeping you safe princesa.” You thought the gesture was sweet and kissed him on the cheek, holding his hand firmer than usual in response

Loves your hugs, he doesn’t care (well a little) about how not ‘masculine’ it is to be vulnerable or whatever. At the end of a long day, he just wants to be held by you and watch Disney movies until he falls asleep with his head in the crook of your neck </3

Gets more confident slowly as you guys date, (definitely had help from hobie, pav, and peter b, and surprisingly Gwen)

FIRST COUPLE MONTHS

Becomes more clingy, miles always wanted to be up under you from the start so after some time and reassurance he felt more comfortable to be more flirty around you. So when your just waking up from a nap or in the morning he’ll pull you close to his chest and give you a kiss in between your brows and asks about your dreams.

Loves seeing your hair in different protective styles or in its natural state, and he loves looking at new styles to try with you.

When the Spider-Man business starts to become a problem when you and miles have dates he calls in for hobie or Gwen to distract you for the time being, but of course you start to get suspicious of his absences and his random disappearance at sleepovers.

He hates lying to you he hates lying to his parents, so one day he sits both of you down and tells you the truth. His mom had many questions while you had almost none, “Honey are you okay? I mean I know this can be shocking but are you sure you don’t have any to ask my son?” You smiled and shook your head no, “I mean it is shocking but, it makes sense. The random disappearing, the missing dates-“ You explained, which caused Rio to look at miles with a slight glare, who mouthed ‘I’m sorry! If it were up to me I would have scheduled villan attacks!’ One eyebrow raise from his mother shushed his excuses, “Continue honey.” You nodded with a slight smile“But i mean if your saving people, hell even the world. I don’t mind too much, just tell me when you leave amor.” You state, a tint of worry in your voice. Which causes rio to look at her son with a ‘go hug that pretty girl who you call your girlfriend or so help me.’

He quickly sat down on the couch besides you and took your hands in his, “I’m so so sorry, I am. I promise to make up all the dates I botched, and to tell you both whenever I need to go out.” His thumb ran over the back of your hand soothingly, his brown eyes looking into yours with true guilt. “I’m sorry amor.” Your heart swelled, looking at miles in this moment was like looking at a sad puppy with its tail in between its legs. “It’s okay hon, I forgive you. And I’ll really be happy if you give me a Spider-Man kiss.” You say, perking up with a grin. “You both are adorable, oh! I’ll get my camera. Miles se mete en el techo!” (Miles get on the ceiling) lol

Rio took an adorable picture of you too kissing for the first time </33

4+ MONTHS

Starts kissing you and touching you more openly and freely, though when he’s in the presnce of his parents he keeps it down to a 2 second kiss at best

Starts to spoil you a bit: paying for your nails to get done, lash appointments and wtv else he can do within reasoning (though he would gladly spend his money on you to get your nails with his initials on it rather than dunks.)

His wardrobe is now yours, he loves seeing you in his clothes and actually makes matching outfits with you too! He’s so cute omg

Keeps track of your period on his phone so he’s always prepared even when he’s out doing spidey biz, he’ll just tell you to look in the box under his bed which has all the things you want and need in there </33

Candy, notes for you to read that he wrote for you before you started dating, a plushie flower, new perfume, a mini graffiti painting that saying ‘mi amor’ on it, a hoodie of his, and a hello kitty coloring book

And when he does get back he has your favorite take out and teddy bear in hand </3

“Im here Mami, whatever you want or need just say the word. Just relax and get some rest.”

(Everything might have costed 80+ dollars but he’s not telling you that </33)

Overall sweetheart and loves and takes care of you with all of his love </33

#🎸.𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐎 𝐁𝐘 𝐊𝐀𝐌 #atsv fluff #atsv x you #atsv miles #atsv x black reader #1610 miles x reader #1610 miles morales #miles x black reader #miles morales #atsv x reader #atsv x y/n #miles molares

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steddielations · 1 year

Note

I’m sorry what’s this about a jock steve / eddie strength kink fic I hear??

Update: It’s now here on Ao3!

oh yes you did hear correctly 👀 here take a lil snippet:

Eddie overindulges.

He likes to push everything. He wants to know just how far someone will go if he tinkers with their buttons enough. He needs to see how much he can get out of any situation if he just goes one step further.

It’s his thing. That’s why he still deals even though he has a “proper” job now. The record shop pays shit but it’s plenty enough for his third of the rent between Steve and Gareth, or when his van decides to break down and he needs a quick wad of cash.

But if Eddie wants anything extra, he’s gotta do a little extra and yeah, screw his dad for giving him that insatiable goddamn need for more no matter the risk. He’s slowed down at least, only dimebags now, but still. He’s pushing it.

Anyway, Eddie Munson has an impulsive need for overindulgence. That’s why the first time that he runs and outright flings himself at Steve simply because he’s curious if Steve will catch him, and Steve does… Well, Eddie just can't stop after that.

He’s not getting off on it, he hasn’t sunk that low, it’s actually just fun to see what Steve will let him get away with.

He really takes a gamble one night after his band finishes playing their set.

“You left Robin all alone with that pretty redhead at the bar?” Eddie sets his guitar aside, grinning down at Steve near the edge of the stage.

“Yeah, wanted to be the first to congratulate the rockstar for his cool show.” Of course Steve did, he’s stupid sweet like that, smirking up at Eddie, “Or should I say it was metal?”

“Thanks, charmer, but no.”

Eddie can’t help it, doesn’t give any warning before he jumps right off the stage, just knowing that Steve won’t let him fall and he doesn’t. Steve throws his arms out with a surprised grunt just in time to catch Eddie like a bride over the damn threshold, both of them laughing.

“Now that was metal.”

“You’re outta your mind, Munson,” Steve doesn’t even care that Eddie’s all sweaty, just carries him over to the bar and buys him round after round. He never stopped smiling the entire night.

Then, when Eddie’s nervous out of his mind, opening the letter after his third time taking his GED test, psyched to find out that he finally passed and could start community college with everyone next semester. Hell, Steve seems even happier than Eddie, having been there the first two times when Eddie sulked on the couch and tried not to cry.

So Eddie can’t help it then either, jumping into Steve’s arms and cackling when Steve spun him around in a hug like something out of a stupid Disney movie.

And later, Gareth called over Jeff and Grant, and Steve rounded up Dustin and Robin so they could all surprise Eddie and celebrate. That night was the first time Steve stopped Eddie from launching at him.

Instead, he turned Eddie around, dipped down to hoist Eddie’s legs around his neck, and lifted him on his shoulders while everyone cheered and toasted. They even let Dustin spray them with the cheapest champagne from the corner-store.

Steve carried Eddie around like that for a good half-hour. When he finally sat him down on the counter, it was with a quiet smile, standing between Eddie’s knees, cheeks rosy wine colored as he murmured, “Can I say, in the least sappy way, I’m proud of you, Eds. Congrats.”

By the end of the night, Eddie was warm and buzzing pleasantly all over, not just from the bubbly.

And then another time, and another time, and another, and then.

It happens.

It’s a boring Wednesday afternoon, they both have to be at work at the same time, so Eddie decided to make it interesting and bet Steve he’d be ready to go before him.

By the time he’s changed into one of his endless band tees, Steve’s already stuffed himself into another pair of his torturously short shorts, both of them racing down the stairs at the same time.

Of course, Eddie hops onto Steve’s back as soon as Steve gains the lead, latching around him like something feral, laughing maniacally as Steve tries to throw him off. Only when they reach the bottom of the staircase does Steve manage to pry Eddie off, swinging him around until he’s back on his own feet.

Eddie tries to take off toward the door, but Steve holds him back with a handful of his shirt, making heat swoop low in Eddie’s stomach at the rough contact.

“Ah ah ah, where do you think you’re going?”

It happens like a fever dream. Steve rasps right into his ear, close enough for his warm breath to scald Eddie’s skin.

“Try not to get in too much trouble today, Munson. You’re already off to a bad start.”

Then Steve, Honest to God, gives Eddie a swift pat on the ass, leaving him stunned in place as he jogs out the door.

It takes Eddie’s mind a long… long moment to wrap around what just happened.

It’s obviously some stupid jock habit that’s stuck with Steve, smacking each other’s asses in the locker room or on the basketball court, completely oblivious to the implications. He’s such a damn token straight golden boy, he probably doesn’t even realize he’s got his little gay nerd friend going all kinds of crazy.

So Eddie reels it in. He doesn’t want to look too much into what was clearly just some lighthearted gesture, not even a proper smack. It definitely wasn’t meant to have Eddie’s knees going weak, or turning his blood hot under his skin in the shape of Steve’s hand or— Nope, because Eddie’s not even into that.

#the first chapter is almost done and it is both hilarious and steamy if i do say so myself #steddie #mp #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie x steve #my fic #my fics

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prodigal-explorer · 5 months

Text

i’m seriously still reeling at the idea that roman is the most hated side right now-

like huh??? how???

of course everyone is entitled to their opinions but i did not realize that roman is so unpopular! but now that i think about it, there is so much rampant roman hâte in the fandom and i’m trying to see if there’s any specific reason why.

i am a rampant patton hater, and my reasoning is that he reminds me of people from my past, his bad actions just get brushed aside and forgiven, and a lot of his fans are so mean to me 😔.

people act like roman is some big bad powerful bully when it’s evident that right now, he has the least amount of power out of all the sides besides maybe logan. even when he was put in charge of the courtroom scene, he was coerced and manipulated to the point where the choice was not his own at all.

i genuinely can’t think of something roman’s done that’s unforgivable in my eyes.

the only bad thing i can think of roman doing that he hasn’t atoned for is make fun of janus’ name and even that was an act of retaliation, not a bullying action.

he is SO GOOD. roman is so good. he’s not perfect, he’s overly rude sometimes and his coping mechanisms are incredibly unhealthy and he’s immature and naive and gullible. but he bends himself backwards to please others. he’s soooo so so so relatable in that aspect, and i guess i expected more people to relate to him.

i don’t understand how people look at roman and see anything but a terrified, child-like entity with no guidance, no real friends/alliances, and a shockingly good attitude all things considered. he apologizes for his wrongdoings. he tries so hard to change when it’s revealed that he’s done something bad. he destroys himself just to try and get a sliver of forgiveness, sometimes for things that aren’t even his fault. he tries so hard to be smiley and confident and the perfect disney prince, and lately it just doesn’t work because it’s impossible to keep that act up when you’re miserable and nobody gives a shit about you.

ever since janus’ introduction, roman has been nothing but a toy to the other sides, especially patton and janus. he was literally KNOCKED OUT by remus. he’s constantly insulted and put down. and yet he’s seen as the bully by fans?

maybe i’m just super deluded but it’s just so confusing to me 😭 i don’t exactly MIND this because i love being quirky and different and having the unpopular opinion but it just makes no sense in my brain how y’all can hate such a beautiful character.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #tss #roman sanders #sanders sides fandom #roman tss #tss roman #sanders sides fandom critical

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heavyhitterheaux · 2 years

Text

Cramps and Cuddles

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

AN: Jack will do anything for his girlfriend including dealing with her mood swings 🤣😂

Synopsis: Jack is trying to think of anything and everything in order to make you feel better while it's that time of the month

Pairing: Baby!Jack Harlow x Baby!Reader

Requested by: an amazing anon 😘

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

It was the middle of July and since it was summer time you and Jack were attached at the hip more so than when the two of you had school with the rest of PG.

Your parents were at work while your older sister Danielle was spending the entire week with her boyfriend in Hawaii.

That left Jack to fend for himself when it came to your mood swings from being on your period.

Those few days were always literal hell and the rest of PG would stay as far away as possible from you.

Even Urban.

But Jack always being concerned about his baby girl would suck it up.

Your period only lasted for three days anyway.

You were currently laying on Jack's chest in your room as he was massaging your lower stomach in order to help give you some relief.

He put on your favorite Disney movies

He brought you your favorite snacks

He gave you a massage on your lower back

And you still felt like shit

"My boobs are so fucking sore!"

"I can massage those too if you want."

You simply looked up at him and all he did was shrug.

"What?"

"If you so much as look at them, I will bite you."

"What!?! Babe!"

"I'm serious Jackman. And I am so horny like got damn I hate this shit."

"I can take care of that Saturday so just two more days since it usually lasts three."

"Look at my baby paying attention to detail about me."

"Of course I do."

"Hmm, then why did you show up this morning with no doritos!?!?"

"Uhh…."

"Well!?"

"I'll text Urb to bring you some."

"Urban doesn't want to be within 100 feet of me."

"He'll do it for his best friend."

Jack- Urb! Bring my baby some doritos. The spicy nacho kind.

Urb- Fuck no. You on your own my boy. I am NOT coming anywhere near her.

Jack- She’s going to kill me if you don't 😫

Urb- And how did you even forget them!? She got the same routine every month. One she wants to kill us and two wants her snacks and three wants cuddles from her boyfriend. The shit is not hard!

Jack- She'll beat the shit outta me if I move. She's laying on me now.

Urb- Give me 20 minutes 🙄

"He's coming mamas."

"That's surprising."

"You need to eat fruit too. You have been eating literal shit all day."

"No I haven't! And ew I don't want any!"

"Let's pull receipts shall we? Tasty Cake krimpets, gummy bears, oatmeal cream pies, frozen yogurt, a huge ass slice of chocolate cake and six donuts."

"What's your point?"

"Baby! You cannot do that!"

"I can do what I want, Jackman!"

"You are to stay here and I'm getting you some fruit."

"Just because you get it doesn't mean I have to eat it." You said while crossing your arms and pouting since Jack moved you from his embrace.

"Y/N!"

"What? What I do?"

"Like I said I'll be back."

Jack went downstairs into the kitchen to see what he could find for you to snack on when he got the bright idea of texting his mom for help.

Jack- HELPPPPP

Maggie- What's wrong?!

Jack- Y/N is on her period and she's miserable. Idk what to do to help her. I'm just over here trying not to be killed.

Maggie- Awww! So get her healthy snacks, nothing extremely sweet or extremely salty, get her a heating pad for her back and lower stomach, and get her Midol to help with her cramps. Tell her I hope she feels better.

Jack- If you don't hear from me, I've crossed over to the other side

Maggie- Go do what I told you and stop being so dramatic 🙄

Jack- Yes ma'am

Jack found some cherries in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator which he knew was your favorite fruit (that video still has me in SHAMBLES).

He also found grapes, he made you celery with peanut butter on top, and got you some popcorn which was lightly salted so you had options to choose from.

He texted Urban to get the medicine for you too along with some dark chocolate.

He had read somewhere that it could help and at this point he was willing to try anything.

Just then there was a knock on the door and he assumed it was Urban.

He opened the door to see him and he simply handed him the bag.

"JACKKKKK!"

"Andddd that's my cue to leave. Good luck." Urban said before turning around and heading towards his car.

"So, you just about to let me get killed!?!"

"Shit, hell yeah better you than me."

Jack immediately rolled his eyes before closing the door and bringing everything upstairs to your room with him.

He walked back in to see you sprawled out on the bed and watching Beauty and the Beast.

"Here mamas, sit up."

You did as you were told and he simply handed you the plate with your snacks on it and the bag of popcorn.

"Jackkkkkk, I don't want fruit!"

"Baby! Eat it! Super salty and super sweet foods only make your cramps worse. And Urb got you some medicine, here."

You also saw how there were doritos in the bag and quickly tried to grab them, but Jack smacked your hand away.

"Y/N! No!"

"Fine." You muttered defeated as Jack plugged in the heating pad and set it on your stomach as you were munching.

He also handed you a bottle of water which made you turn up your nose.

"Drink it, mamas."

"You are literally the best boyfriend but you get on my nerves."

"I'm going to ignore that last part because I know that's your period talking."

You had finally finished your food and you went right back to laying on Jack and he cuddled you closer to him while kissing your forehead.

"Here babe. I got dark chocolate for you too. I read somewhere that it helps."

You looked at Jack after looking down at the candy and simply smirked.

"You should know better than that."

"Huh?"

"I want the white chocolate that is your dick. Take your shorts off."

"BABY!"

"What!?! Think of it as a thank you for all you did for me today. Let me suck your dick."

"But…."

"Like you said, I'll get mine on Saturday. Take them off NOW."

Taglist:

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#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow x you #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow concepts

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narcolini · 1 year

Text

kiss and tell

angel reyes x gn!olvidado reader, 2369 words

for day 25 of whumpril: ‘we’re being watched’

a/n: this is in a world where adelita and angel never had a thing, because why not, AND who doesn’t love a fake date trope! muah (also love u élise, mi jefa)

tagging: @cositapreciosa @drabbles-mc @hausofmamadas

You shouldn’t be here. You really shouldn’t be here. Of all your dubious moral mistakes, this might just be the worst one, right? Going behind Adelita’s back, to talk to a Mayan, of all people, who’s working with Galindo? Yeah, you’ve fucked it. You’ve really missed the mark with this one.

He isn’t even a close friend, really. A friend of a friend of a friend. Someone you bickered with in high school, an Angel totally undeserving of the name. Payaso copied your answers in more exams than you can count, and now he’s after them again, begging you for info you know you shouldn’t give. Well, you assume so. The text he’d sent hadn’t been specific, but what else could he want?

You haven’t spoken to him in years, but, fuck, you’re here, aren’t you? You agreed to his suggestion and let him pick the meeting place. You’re walking toward him now, like you couldn’t be any fucking happier to ruin your shit, any more willing to disrupt what Los Olvidados have been organising for months. God, if anyone knew about this. If Adelita knew about this.

It isn’t worth imagining. Besides, you might not tell him anything at all, right? He might ask you for something you know nothing about. There’s still a chance of that, still time for fate to stand by your side.

Angel’s leaning against the tree closest to the park’s entrance, one tall beanpole in the sea of kids and moms pushing empty prams. He doesn’t blend in by any means. He didn’t even bother to take his kutte off.

‘Hey.’ He nods as you approach, only clocking you once you’re within talking distance anyway.

‘You wanna be any more obvious, man?’ you snap over him, looking past him, then over your shoulder. ‘May as well have brought the rest of your stupid club with you.’

‘Wow, relax.’ He looks like he wants to laugh. ‘Is it that serious? S’not like you got rules against socialising and shit.’

He’s wrong, of course, because that’s exactly what you do have. Especially when it comes to socialising with Galindo affiliated groups. ‘Can we move, please?’ you ask, ignoring the remark. ‘Away from the fucking Mom’s club.’

Then he does laugh, face crumpling like you’re certifiably insane, but he does stand straight from the tree he’s on. ‘You wanna walk?’

‘Sure.’ That’s better than this, at least. You watch him shove his hands into his pocket, before gesturing with his elbow for you to lead the way. Which you do, begrudgingly, traipsing further into the park with him beside you.

‘I can’t talk for long,’ you tell him, flicking him a look. Then it’s back behind you, over your shoulder, and to the right over the grass.

‘Damn,’ he’s watching you scan the surroundings, ‘you’re way less fun than you used to be.’

‘I didn't realise we ever had fun, Angel.’

He scoffs. ‘Really? Thought we were cool.’ He throws you a smile. ‘Homies.’

‘You stuck gum to my backpack and cheated off me relentlessly,’ you answer, not bitter, but bored instead. ‘Might’ve been fun for you, but.’

‘Okay,’ he laughs, ‘so I was a shitty kid. You really gonna hold that against me?’

‘I’m here, aren’t I?’ You pass a woman jogging, flashing her a smile just to see if she’ll return it—she does. ‘Would’ve blocked your number if I was holding it against you.’

He sucks a breath in, like he’s scratched his knee or some shit, wincing with it. ‘The fuck are they feeding you at those camps? Los Olvidados got a rule about being friendly now?’

‘Yeah,’ you nod, and you hate that you’re almost laughing with it, ‘that’s actually the whole thing, dumbass. We’re not trying to make friends.’

So why are you here then? Walking through a park, birds chirping like a fucking Disney movie, with Angel of all people. You were supposed to be making this quick. You shove your hands in your pockets like he has, pulling your hoody closed over your torso. No more chitchat.

‘So,’ you say, ‘can we get to the part where you beg me for information?’

You aren’t looking at him still, but flitting around again. There’s a dude on the bench you’re walking by, reading the newspaper. He doesn’t pay any attention to either of you. Doesn’t look up as Angel’s boot throws a stone in his direction.

‘Information? Nah.’ Angel shakes his head, the movement catching in your periphery. ‘You think that’s what I’m here for?’

You shrug. ‘Well, yeah. What else would you want?’

You’re on opposite sides, really. Hired hands or not, the Mayans are working for the man you and the rest of the group have fucked over, multiple times now. All you can offer him is information he shouldn’t have. Not that you will, of course, not that you will. But you at least want to hear what he’s dumb enough to ask for.

He’s slowed to a stop, for some reason. His brows are pinched together as he looks at you. ‘Y’know, I almost feel like saying fuck it and leaving you here.’

You turn, in front of him now, and shrug again. ‘What d’you mean?’

‘I’m here to help your ass not, fucking, beg you for information.’ He looks offended, actually. Genuinely offended. ‘I mean, come on, you really think I’m that stupid?’

Maybe, but you aren’t about to admit that to him. ‘Sorry,’ you stumble, ‘I don’t know. Guess I figured you had some allegiance to the dude paying you.’

He snorts. ‘Yeah, that’s not how this shit works.’

‘Okay,’ you prompt, ‘then what is it? Why am I here?’

For the first time, he chances a look behind like he does actually care, like he’s as nervous about this as you are. Well, almost. ‘Thought you guys might want to know Galindo’s planning to go ahead with another shipment,’ he says.

‘Oh.’ Your brows go up. ‘Damn. Fuck, that’s useful.’

‘Yeah,’ his voice goes thick with sarcasm, ‘I figured.’

Your gaze slips past him, looking for the man with the newspaper again. Only, he’s not there now, and has been replaced by another man, sitting with his arm over the back of the bench. He’s slouching, knees wide. Dressed in nothing but jeans and a garish shirt—which is weird, because it’s a cloudy day. Cold enough that you and Angel are both wearing two layers at least.

‘But why?’ You flick back to Angel. ‘Like, why help us?’

There’s something familiar about the man, about his very fucking familiar face. You can’t shake it. You can’t even focus on what Angel’s given you, the opportunity of another shipment to disrupt.

Angel sighs, oblivious to the mental file-o-fax you’re pawing through. ‘I know you think I’m a dick,’ he says, ‘but I do actually, y’know, care. About this shit.’ He gestures between the two of you. ‘The rebel shit, I’m with it.’ He pauses, you still aren’t paying attention. ‘And I fucking hate Galindo,’ he adds, souring. ‘Uptight fuck.’

You look back to the bench. He’s scanning the park now, in a very non-casual, casual way. Like you were—like you are. He skims past you quickly, pretending he hasn’t just made fleeting eye contact with you, and then it clicks. Finally. Fuck. It’s not just some dude, it’s Tiago, one of the many meatheads in Galindo’s cartel. You’ve seen his face a million times, in black and white, pinned to the boards at camp. You recognise it now, because it’s obvious. Scar through his eyebrow, thick moustache, ugly fucking shirts.

He isn’t relaxing in the park, enjoying the breeze, he’s waiting for you, watching. He’s holding out on you spilling secrets you shouldn’t—or maybe it’s not that at all. Maybe he’s watching Angel instead, keeping track of Galindo’s assets. They’re trying to avoid another incident like the last, looking for the leak in the in the seal, the rat amongst the dogs. And Angel’s clueless to it, standing and waiting for your reply. His face clear as day for Tiago to watch.

‘Kiss me,’ you say, blurting it as quickly as you can.

‘Wha—why?’ Angel frowns, lips pulling down at the corners. ‘Kiss you?’

‘We’re being watched.’ You step forward. ‘Kiss me.’

He’s taking too long to process it. You can feel Tiago staring now, attempting to read your lips. The longer Angel stands there looking lost, the longer Tiago has to profile you, to paint you as a notable figure. To pin blame to the badges on Angel’s kutte.

You pull him in by the back of his neck, before any more damage can be done. Hide his face with your own, make this look like a date, a walk in the park between one Mayan and his crush. He doesn’t kiss you back, of course, it’s stationary lips against stationary lips. Is it convincing? You’ve no idea. You can’t pull back to check yet, not without making it look suspicious and desperately false.

He says your name, or tries to, against your mouth. When you don’t break away to let him say it properly, there’s a moment of pause, just a breath, and then he’s kissing you like he means it. His hands come up to your waist, his lips part. You turn, pulling him with you, until you’re angled away from Tiago, Angel’s back a firm wall in his vision. He’s either cottoned on, at last, and is trying to make this look like a real thing to avoid suspicion, or his testosterone has kicked in and accepted a kiss for a kiss. His body reacting the way it normally would.

For a second you enjoy it. But that’s beside the point.

‘Okay,’ you pull back, hands to his chest, and look over his shoulder, ‘I think that…’

Tiago’s turned away again, scrubbing a hand over his moustache and looking as awkward as anyone would after watching two people kiss.

‘The fuck was that about?’ Angel asks, out of breath but unable to shift the smugness from his face. ‘Who’s watching us?’

‘Fucking Galindo,’ you mutter, ignoring the slight thrum in your chest.

‘He’s here?’ He attempts to look behind, but you catch him before he can, hand to his cheek.

‘Don’t fucking do that.’ You drop it again, fidgeting back behind the shape of him. ‘You can’t look, but it’s Tiago.’

His brows flex together; he’s wondering how you know who he is, how you’re using the guy’s first name like you’re familiar, but now isn’t the time to go into it. Really, you know more about Galindo’s crew than he ever will. There’s no cap on information for you, it’s find out all you can, everything you can. For him, it’s only what Galindo allows them to know. The bare minimum to get them to do what he needs.

‘He probably thinks you’re the rat,’ you say, continuing when he laughs, an I am the rat, expression on his face. ‘It’s better he thinks this is a date. For you, I mean.’

The smirk isn’t shifting. He’s staring down at you like you’ve actually asked him out. ‘So you’re helping me now?’ he says. ‘Saving my ass from Galindo?’

‘Yes,’ you snap, ‘and the desire to keep doing it is running thin.’

‘Alright, God.’ Still smiling. He’s still smiling. ‘Tell me what to do then, Olvidado.’

You have half the mind to leave, abandon him like that kiss was the farewell, and let Tiago track him alone. Follow his stupid bike around town until he finds some other way to incriminate him. But you need him, actually. You genuinely fucking need him and what he has to say. Another shipment would give you another chance to dent Galindo’s organisation, to strip more money, and more power, from him, in the most frustrating way possible. It’s an opportunity too good to miss.

‘You see that café ?’ you ask, knowing it’s in his eye-line, over your head. ‘We’re gonna go there, like we’re on a nice fucking date, and you’re gonna tell me what you came to tell me.’

‘Alright.’

‘So,’ you gesture toward him, ‘make it look like you actually like me, or something.’

He rolls his eyes, head tilting with it, and you almost reach to snap it back down again, but then he gets it together. He takes your hand, the right one, bringing it up as he steps around to lay the same arm over your shoulder. It’s more than he needed to do, putting you by his side, with your joined hands sitting against your collarbone, but you can hardly complain about it now. Tiago could be watching still—you look, eyes over Angel’s forearm—he is still watching. Leaning forward on his knees now, like he’s deciding whether to follow or not.

‘You’re gonna have to be careful,’ you say, facing front again. ‘They clearly suspect you.’

He shakes his head. ‘Flaco’s paranoid, probably thinks all of us are out here spilling his secrets.’

‘Fine, be like that. But it’ll get you fucking killed, Angel.’

‘Says the rebel trying to take him down.’

He has you there, but the difference is Galindo, Tiago, doesn’t know you yet. Doesn’t even realise that you’re anyone worth knowing. Thankfully, hopefully, your quick thinking has planted ‘love interest’ across your face, and ‘dead end’ over Angel’s. There’s nothing innately suspicious about two people going for coffee, no matter how Tiago swings it.

‘Let’s just get this over with,’ you tell him, increasing your speed and pulling Angel along with you. ‘Before one of us ends up in the gutter.’

Angel laughs, nodding.

‘What?’

‘Nothing,’ he shrugs over you, ‘just that this is the weirdest fucking date of my life.’

‘It’s not a date.’

‘Fake date,’ he corrects. ‘Weirdest fake date of my life.’

‘And last one, too,’ you add, because if he ever texts you to meet up again, you’ll be leaving him on read. Information or not, it isn’t worth the hassle, he isn’t worth the hassle. You’d rather struggle to gather information for yourself, than go down with the Angel Reyes, traitor to Galindo, disaster of a ship.

#angel reyes x you #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes x reader #whumpril2023 #mayans mc fanfic #<3<3<3<3

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