#there's a lot of motion in this set oops

[heembie]

three shots, lemon drops

idol!sim jake x fem!reader; wc 3.0k; genres fluff, established relationship; warnings suggestive!! they make out, mentions of alcohol, v touchy a/n ib twitter shenanigans regarding jake on live but i'm a slow writer so this is late! oops

Jake is pushing it.

He’s situated in front of the camera he’d set up, swaying around in his chair as he watches comments sprint across the screen, including a barrage of messages like Hello from the Philippines! and blink if you see this. He’d taken to Weverse tonight, dragging you into a little studio with him the second he’d arrived at the company building, and suddenly the warning text that Jay had sent you thirty minutes ago started making a lot more sense.

Jake leans closer to the screen as you sit on a couch behind his camera, his lip becoming trapped between his teeth in concentration. You sigh, already imagining the thousands of messages flooding in, no doubt fawning over your boyfriend’s tendency to appear maddeningly kissable.

“Jake, I love your lips,” he reads out, leaning back into his chair with an amused smile playing at his mouth. He lifts a hand, strong fingers coming up to rub softly at the rosy skin he’d been chewing at. “My lips?”

You have to suppress a snort at the obvious fanservice, ignoring the irritation that starts to claw at your gut. You’re used to this—the flirting, the bold advancements on the part of his fans, his reciprocation. It is his job after all, to sell the fantasy. And you know he enjoys it, finds genuine hilarity and fondness in being able to make his fan’s days. It’s never really bothered you, because you’re secure enough in yourself and in your relationship with Jake, despite it being a secret to the public, that it doesn’t keep you awake at night to know he spends his time making other girls believe they have a chance.

Besides, they might know how it feels to flirt with him, but only one person knows the smell of his bedsheets, the warmth of his skin.

Tonight, though—tonight, it’s getting to you, because you’ve never really had to be in the room to witness any of it. Jake typically goes live when you’re not around, to spare you even though he knows it doesn’t usually bother you. Clearly, him having been dropped off tipsy after his dinner with Jay changed his mind, because he’d insisted that you wait for him while he does his live. You’re mostly trying to make sure he doesn’t say anything he shouldn’t.

There’s a lazy smile on his face, one that quirks up at the corner. His eyes fall on you, sluggishly, like they’d been doing all night. It makes your skin prickle, but you make a motion for him to look back at the camera. 

“What’ve you guys been up to?” He asks, running a hand through his rich brown hair. You’re trying to busy yourself as you wait, scrolling on your phone while he talks. But his eyes keep flickering up to you, a little glassy, and surely that must be coming off strange to the viewers. You wonder what they’ll all take to Twitter to rant about tonight—will it be that the company should stop sending in staff to control the members’ every word? You stifle a giggle at the thought.

It’s not funny for long, though, because then Jake keeps talking.

“No, I’m not drunk,” he comments, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He pauses. “Well. Only a little.”

You groan quietly, making wild motions above your head as if to ask him: why would you admit that? He only gives you another look, his lips twitching before he looks back at the camera. 

“Sorry, guys, I’m a little distracted.”

“Jake,” you hiss, making sure to keep your voice quiet enough that you won’t be heard over the live. Jake’s mouth slips into a slow smile. He leans back into his chair, the lids of his eyes lowering slightly as he stares at you.

You squirm in your seat on the couch. Something in his gaze is a little dark, a little loopy. Almost like he’s imagining something his brain can’t comprehend in its current state; like if he tried too hard his eyes would cross with desire and he’d probably say something he shouldn’t.

You look down at your phone, trying to get his attention off of you. It works, at least for now. He continues to read comments off the screen.

“You had steak for dinner? Me too,” he murmurs, palm pressed against his face. “Oh, jajangmyeon, nice.”

It goes on like that for a couple more minutes. You think he’s finally settled down, that the little alcohol he’d drunk had finally faded away enough to render him at least slightly sane. The hour keeps ticking away, so much so that you’ve even started thinking about what you’ll make yourself as a snack tonight before bed, and how you’ll be able to work around Jake’s schedule tomorrow to meet up with him for lunch. That is, until:

“What’s distracting me?” Jake chuckles, fixing the sleeve of his brown jacket. “Mmm…if I told you, then you’d know.”

He’s teasing them, riling them up so they’ll spam him with a million questions from a million different girls who want to be the one he confides in. Your gaze flickers up from your phone, watching him carefully.

“Not related to the comeback,” he says, shaking his head a little too seriously. You’re getting the sense that he’s up to something, unsettling you enough to make you put your phone away. 

“No, not a staff member,” he chuckles. His voice has a lilt to it, one that gives away that he thinks whatever he’s doing is funny. You stand up from the couch, because he’s started to actively ignore the concern painted on your face. You don’t want to accidentally alarm the viewers, so you try subtly to gain his attention.

“What are you doing?” You whisper, slightly panicked. “Don’t say anything stupid. Your managers are going to kill me.”

Jake finally looks up then, through his lashes. There’s a delightful flush to his cheeks, a playfulness in the way he casually drags his eyes up and down your body. He sucks in a little air through his teeth, his tongue playing at the inside of his cheek as he glances at the screen once more.

“You think it’s Jungwonie? You guys are so funny.”

You tiptoe closer to his camera, not caring that your shadow is now visible on the wall behind him. He’s going to say something.

Jake is grinning now, and then he turns back to you, letting out a long, dragging sigh.

“I’m not into sharing, so you’ll just have to trust me, guys.” He cocks his head, eyes half-lidded. “My girlfriend is hot.”

Your jaw drops.

The rest of your body moves at its own accord. One of your hands reaches over his laptop to clap over the camera, and the other hand presses frantically at some buttons on his keyboard, wasting no time in ending the live. You’re frozen there, body tipped over his setup with your eyes practically bugging out of your skull.

All the while, Jake is leaned back in his chair, a leisurely smirk playing at his lips.

“Don’t look so happy to be mine.”

Your hand falls from its position, and you stare at your boyfriend in shock.

“What the fuck?”

The situation is settling in fast, like a brick to the gut, and you’re already starting to spiral just thinking of the fallout. You ignore Jake’s stupid face, pacing around the room in panic, a hand reaching up to rub against your eyes.

“What the fuck. What the fuck. Oh my god, the company is gonna hang both of us. I should’ve—I should’ve just listened to Jay when he texted me not to let you go live tonight. Jake—” you whirl around, doubling down around the corner of Jake’s desk, walking up to him in anger, “everyone fucking knows now. There’s gonna have to be so much damage control.

Jake only stares at you for a moment, the smirk from earlier faded away. It’s left something darker in its place—a little more raw, a little more real. He shrugs, his eyes boring into yours.

“So what?”

Notifications start going off on both of your phones. Jake silences his without even blinking, but you snatch yours up furiously.

“What do you mean so what? So this,” you grit, holding up your phone. “You think I’m worried about myself or something? We can take the heat from your company, but everything else? That’s only going to you. What the hell were you thinking?”

Silence. Jake takes the phone from your hands gently, switching the ringer off wordlessly. He puts it next to his, seemingly uninterested in any protest on your part (there comes none). 

“I was thinking,” he starts, looking up at you from his seat, “that I’ve been wanting to do that ever since my driver dropped me off and I walked in to see you looking like that.” He motions at your outfit, his other hand rubbing small circles into his lips. 

“Besides.” A smile creeps onto his face, and he reaches out, tugging lightly at your hips, causing you to stumble forward a little. His head rests at your stomach level. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous, baby.”

You blink down at him, shocked, blush spreading across your skin at a furious pace. So he’d noticed it, then, the irritation that you thought you’d hidden well. In fact, he’d been hoping for it. That’s probably why he’d insisted that you wait for him while he went live. He’d really bit the dust as soon as he walked into the HYBE building.

“Jake,” you warn, although there’s no real conviction behind it. You’ve lost all the anger from earlier, replaced by something weak. “This is bad.”

He hums distractedly, dipping his head to mouth at the fabric of your shirt. You can feel the warmth of his lips at your stomach, feel him smiling gently against you. 

“Really bad,” he murmurs.

You breathe out slowly, your breath stuttering for no reason other than nerves. Jake looks up at you anyway, the tipsy glimmer to his eyes reflecting your own rosy face. He furrows his brows in a way that makes your heart ache, it’s so adorable.

“You want me to stop?”

You consider it for a moment. The other members, the company, everyone is most definitely trying to get a hold of you both right now. But then you’re looking back at Jake; at the wanton look in his eyes, and you find yourself shaking your head, lowering yourself into his lap without so much as a little sigh. You know you’ll both be getting a mouthful later—but for now, it doesn’t matter.

He smiles at you dazedly, planting firm hands on your hips to keep you steady. He lifts a hand up to brush a lock of hair from your face.

“Need you to say it,” he murmurs. 

You lean in, the air escaping your mouths mingling between you.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

Jake seals the distance between you instantly, his lips meeting yours in a feverish kiss. For a moment you feel weightless—like it’s just you and him, entwined in midair with nothing but an ache in your lips and sweat beading on your skin. And then he’s moving, his hands sliding down to grasp your thighs as he noses at your jaw, littering kisses down its side and along your neck. He grounds you with the weight of every press of his full lips against your burning skin, and you can’t help but to tangle your fingers in the soft brown locks that sit at the nape of his neck.

“So pretty, baby,” he mumbles against your neck, the low rumble of his voice causing goosebumps to erupt on your arms. “Lucky I’m yours.”

A giggle tumbles out of your mouth, soft and earnest, and you can feel Jake’s teeth against your skin as he breaks into a grin.

“Mine,” you singsong, leaning your head back a little as he continues to mouth down towards your collarbone. “And they all know that now.”

Jake snorts. 

“And you always tell me it doesn’t bother you when they flirt.”

He lifts his head up a little, moving to the juncture between your jaw and your neck.

“It—doesn’t.” The last part comes out through gritted teeth, because suddenly Jake is sucking a hickey into your skin, color blooming in his wake. You hiccup on a breath, your eyes glassy as he pulls away to survey his work.

“Now you’re gonna be more distracting.”

You drop your head onto his shoulder in shame, heat rushing to your cheeks as he giggles in your ear. 

“Since when have I made such terrible decisions?” You whine against the fabric of his shirt, your voice muffled. 

He laughs, breathy, swaying you around on his lap.

“Hey, I’ll take the credit for this one.”

Your head shoots up, eyes narrowing as you smack his arm softly.

“Damn right you will. I was talking about letting you drag me into this room in the first place.”

Jake lifts his arms in surrender, a coy smile on his lips. He shrugs, and then he cocks a brow.

“Were you being serious about Jay texting you?”

You nod, fiddling absentmindedly with a button on his shirt.

“He said, and I quote: Be careful about letting Jake go live tonight, he’s extra stupid when he’s tipsy.” 

Jake stares at you blankly for a second.

“That fucker.”

You laugh, leaning in to press a kiss against Jake’s cheek. His dramatic act crumbles instantly, a smile forming on his face.

“He was right, though,” you say. The smell of Jake’s cologne drifts up from his neck, your eyelids fluttering helplessly in response.

“Not as right as the angle of my arm when I shove it up his—”

“Okay, stop talking about Jay—” you breathe, shutting your eyes, “and kiss your girlfriend.”

Jake shuts up, fast, one of his hands twitching against your thigh.

“Yes to both,” he replies, the other hand coming up to rest in the hair by your ear, tugging forward gently so your lips are touching. “Top ten words ever spoken, actually.”

He captures your bottom lip with his own, soft and languid. There are a million and one ways you could react to how good he is, but you settle for just touching him, fingers brushing along his neck, rubbing in small circles as he cups your jaw. His teeth scrape lightly against your lip, and you gasp quietly, your jaw falling open just that little bit more—pliant. He takes the chance to lick into your mouth, searing, the palm of his hand warm and strong against your cheek. The hand on your thigh crawls up your hip, slipping under your shirt just enough to rest atop the bone there, moving no further. He thumbs gently at your skin, drawing a low whine from your chest as he continues to kiss you.

Jake’s eyebrows furrow gently, lost in the sensation of your lips slotted against his. There’s a moment where he’s breathing hard against your mouth, having pulled away from you enough to have you panting not barely an inch from his face. His eyes rove over every part of you he can see, down to where you sit on his lap, his thumbs pressed into the dimples of your hips. You have to resist surging forward to kiss him again, momentary embarrassment at your inability to be disconnected from his lips for more than a minute vanishing almost as fast as it came on. You can’t blame yourself—the fans were right, after all, to point out his lips. They’re as soft and capable as they appear on camera, if not more.

A shy smile creeps onto Jake’s face.

“I love you, Y/N. Whatever happens, it was worth it.”

You sigh, a lovesick giggle threatening to jump out of your mouth.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“Exist.”

You smile at him, your nose scrunching up as you lean in once more to give him a long, chaste kiss, his eyelashes fluttering against your cheek.

Suddenly, there’s a bang. The door to the studio swings open, revealing a completely unimpressed Jay, his arms crossed over his chest. Jake breaks away from the kiss, and you turn a bewildered head to face the intrusion, your lips raw and glistening from earlier events.

“Thought so. Could you two stop eating each other's faces for a minute so we can go deal with the consequences of your actions?”

You blink in embarrassment, trying to picture the no doubt saucy image of you perched on Jake’s lap looking like you’d just given a vacuum a run for its money. It’s humiliating.

“That’s not—we were just—”

Jay snorts, eyeing your neck with amusement.

“I can see your hickey, Y/N.”

“My bad,” Jake chimes in, a dopey smile on his face. You cast him a sideways glare before turning around again to flash Jay a sheepish grin. He shakes his head.

“I should’ve known you’d be no help against his evils. You’re both equally airheaded.”

“Okay, rude—”

“Just get over to the meeting room already,” Jay interrupts, a sort of fondness underscoring his tone. “The internet is falling apart.”

Jake throws his head back in his chair, groaning, pulling you against his chest in the process.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles into your hair.

“Jake. The media’s already all over this.”

Always the voice of reason, Jay is.

“Fine. One more kiss.”

“Sim Jaeyun,” Sunghoon’s voice screeches from the hallway outside the studio, followed by the loud stomping of his feet. You suspect he’s running.

Jake’s head launches up at a comical speed, you and Jay both laughing at the mildly fearful expression on his face.

“He’s coming,” you call, sliding off his lap onto slightly wobbly legs, reaching out a hand to your boyfriend. He takes it, grumbling.

“Can we just say I was talking about Layla or something?”

“You called me hot.”

“Oh, right,” Jake says, taking your hand softly as he starts for the door. “Definitely not Layla.”

tags! @junityy @hittoki @neos127 @iuwon @tyunni + ty to @/junityy and @4xiaojun for helping me when i was stuck ily guys 💓

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enha imagines #enha scenarios #jake enhypen #jake sim #jake sim x reader #jake sim imagines #sim jaeyun #enhypen drabbles #jake sim drabble #jake sim fluff #enhypen headcanons

[bandgie]

Pretty Boy

idol!BangChan x sexworker!reader

a/n: I have another fic in the works, but enjoy this one plz

synopsis: Christopher is a stressed guy. It doesn't matter what he tries to do to relax, he always finds himself planning and nonstop thinking. In an act of desperation, he finds himself in a sex club, wishing for someone to help him turn off his brain. You're more than happy to oblige...for the right price.

cw: NO MINORS 18+ ONLY, PIV, unprotected (no!), sub!chan, light degrading and praising, oral (m!receiveing and mentions of f!receiving), handjob, pullout method (no!), sex club.sex worker (obvi), mentions of alcohol, not proof read lmao, Chris's face is hidden, playful teasing, overstimulation (m!receiving), slight cum eating

4.7k words oops

No one will find out, no one will see you. It's a mantra Chris finds himself repeating as he makes his way towards the low lit building deep into the night. He wears all black, a beanie and mask covering his face hoping that it'll disguise him. His hands are shaking as he open the doors, immediately hit with the smell of booze and smoke.

He should leave. Coming here was a bad idea to begin with, but the thoughts in his head were too loud, too persistent, he had to do something about it. There's no way he could keep staying cooped up in the studio, his room, that godforsaken building. It was his heaven, but his hell all at the same time.

The place Chris found himself at was a normal club, people sweaty and rubbing up on each other. He didn't come here to dance though, he came here to forget, to make bad decisions. Chris didn't know this place directly, but he's heard about it from Lee Know who tended to frequent here when he got stressed. If he went to the bartender, asking for a certain someone and pulled a good amount of cash out, they would let him though the secret doors. To the place where real deprived people went.

People like Chris.

So he walked through the bodies of people, ignoring how some touched and groped him. The decision he was about to make further solidified when he stood in front of the bar, watching the three bartenders who were busy mixing drinks. Make sure to ask for the bartender with black hair, Lee Know had instructed. The other ones don't know about the hidden rooms, I had to learn that the hard way.

Then he stopped the bartender with pitch black hair. They had no piercings, no tattoos unlike the their coworkers. They look unassuming, boring, the perfect disguise. The bartender noticed Chris's staring, their eyes snapping to his. They walked over to Chris, carefully setting down the served drinks to a nearby group.

"What can I get you?"

"Uhh..." Chris hesitated. This is his last and only chance to back out. Maybe it would be better to get a normal drink and get drunk with the sea of people around him. No, he came here for a reason. Chris didn't do all this mental preparing for nothing.

"I'm here to see Aphrodite," Chris managed to speak. He watched at the bartender's eyebrows went up, a lot of surprise on their face. "I think you have the wrong person," they replied, taking a few steps back to indicate that they were done with the conversation.

They'll probably ignore you at first, Lee Know predicted. Show them the money, and say Rino sent you. 'Rino?' Chris had laughed at the nickname. 'Yeah dude, can't use your real name at places like those.'

"No," Chris spoke firmly to the bartender, "I think I have the right person." With that, he discreetly pulled out his wad of cash. Korean wons bundled up nicely in his hands. The bartenders eyes went wide, practically turning into green upon the sight.

"Rino sends his regards."

That was enough for the dark haired bartender to tell their coworkers they were stepping out for a bit. They went around the counter far from Chris, beckoning their head in a come here motion. Chris shoved the cash in his pocket and followed the bartender to the back.

They walked until they were at the employee only bathroom, which was surprisingly empty. They both entered the restroom which looked normal at first, save for the weird paintings on the wall. Before Chris had the opportunity to question the bartender, they held out their hand expectantly. The money.

Chris shoved his hand in his pocket and put the money in the hands of the bartender who looked overly pleased.

"The sunflower painting is the door. When the person asks for the code tell them 'in the east.' You're good to go." The bartender didn't spare Chris another glance, instead counting the money they had. Chris took a deep breath, shaky fingers prying the sunflower painting back which revealed a small hallway.

He followed it, shutting the door behind him as he continued on. He was soon enough met another door, knocking on it loudly. The door slightly opened, showing a large man who seemed rather displeased on seeing him. "Where does it look?" The guards voice was gruff, annoyed.

"In the east."

The guard stepped aside, allowing Chris the entry he so desperately waited for. Chris debated on saying thank you, but he was too shocked by the secret room that he didn't have the chance to contemplate. The actual club was dirty, smelly, hot. This room was almost sophisticated, even in how the people dressed.

Women and men were dressed in fine clothing, Chris felt underdressed. Worse than that though, he stuck out like a sore thumb, something he was trying to avoid. The people nearby on sofas looked at him with disgust, it made his skin crawl. On instinct, Chris looked upwards to the ceiling to avoid their judging gaze, and that's when he finally noticed the women in the skies.

The were in large bird-like cages, performing in their exotic outfits. Some cages were lower than others, allowing the men and women below to throw cash at them. When Chris walked even deeper into this room, the women in cages were nude. He was thankful for his mask that hid his blush.

Chris was overwhelmed, his heart was nearly in his chest. He was thankful when he saw a nearby bar, this one much less populated from the previous one. He made his way towards it and took a seat at the booth, asking for a vodka on the rocks.

"First time I take it?" The bartender asked. He served Chris in a smaller sized cup, eyes attentively on his. "Is it that obvious?" Chris asked before taking a sip at the drink. The bartender chuckled, "Very obvious. What are you here for? Gambling? The shows? The drinks? The sex?"

Chris almost choked at his beverage, wiping his mouth as the bartender smiled. "Ah, so it is the sex then," he laughed. "No worries friend, no judgement here. A private room will cost you a lot, but if you ask for a low-grade woman I think they do it cheaper." The bartender then handed him a sheet of laminated paper. On it were names, and prices with so many zeros it made Chris's head spin.

"The backside has the women more in your price range I assume," the server guessed. "A lot of men come here asking for the main girl, but they waste their money too fast. Can't have your cake and eat it too ya know?" Chris nodded at the man's words, thankful for his insight.

Chris scanned the names, guilt eating at him for ordering women like food. The names were all from Greek mythology which a description of how they were like when it came to their service. It made his excited and nervous all at the same time.

It took a few minutes before Chris decided on a woman named Nyx. He didn't know much about the goddess, but he liked the description he read;

Nyx, the goddess of night, who prefers to be in charge. Don't let her sweet face trick you, she's all for the darkest dreams you have. A night with her will make you fly high.

Chris handed the 'menu' back to the bartender, tapping on the name. "Is uh...that a good option?" Chris anxiously waited as the bartender pursed his lips, thinking. "Nyx is not an easy woman to tame," he advised. "Most men like to take the lead, Nyx won't let that happen." Chris sighed in relief, "That's perfect."

It didn't take long for the arrangements to be made, for you to be alerted of your new customer. Your boss told you he was waiting in the room nearby, and to hurry up on getting ready. You ignored your boss, used to his annoying antics.

You applied your lipstick, ignoring the excitement in your belly. It's been a while since someone has requested you, since you've seen a new face. Most of the men that see you are older, too old to actually do anything than lay there. You needed something new, something that wasn't a fossil.

So when you heard that the man who requested you was in his mid 20's, you beamed with glee. A small part of you, though, was nervous. You have encountered men that came with the intention of making you submit, liking the challenged you proved to be. You would never though, unless they paid extra.

Still, you were hopeful that he wouldn't be like that. That this man, whose name is supposedly 'Koala', would let you do your job properly. It's why you dressed up extra nice, spraying your expensive perfume, and wearing your favorite heels.

You looked at yourself in your vanity mirror, satisfied. You left your room with the sound of your heels clicking, making your way to the room with the man you were going to have sex with. Once you approached the door, you gently knocked, waiting for the nervous come in that soon followed.

He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his hands on his black jeans. He straightened up upon seeing you, his eyes scanning your body. You closed the door and smiled sweetly at him, "Hey there 'Koala', how's it going?"

You walked towards him, sitting on the bed. Oliver, the bartender that told you about you client, informed you that it was 'Koalas' first time. Basically saying to take it slow, to not scare him away. Even without Oliver telling you, you could tell it was his first time. He wore dark clothes, kept his face completely hidden save for his brown eyes that peeked through.

"Uh, ya know, it's going," he laughs dryly. You hum, gently placing your hand on his shoulder. He stiffened under you, not daring to look your way. "I get it, you're stressed," you purr. "How about a massage? Do you wanna start there?" It took a moment for him to nod, pulling of his shirt and leaving it on the floor.

Your jaw almost dropped to the floor seeing his physique had it not been for your Nyx persona. He was well-built, strong. He had lean muscles that trailed over his body. It took a second for you to take your place behind him, carefully kneading his shoulders. Still, he had his mask on.

"Are you gonna keep that on the whole time?" You asked. You moved your hands lower down his back, pressing your thumb into the parts that seemed tense. God, his skin is so smooth. He nodded, "Yeah, if that's okay." It was a dead giveaway that he was someone popular, someone with a big name. A lot of the people that came here were famous, but took off their mask once alone in the room.

"Of course that's okay," you soothe. "It does make me wonder why though. Do you think you're unattractive?" You leaned down to kiss his back, letting your lips linger on his skin. He sucked in a breath, "I don't think I'm...pretty." You kept giving him kisses, noticing that he shivered when you were on his neck.

"Do you normally care what people think about you that much?" You pressed. Your hands were exploring his backside, his arms. "Yeah, I do," he confessed. You were surprised to hear him admit that, but you took it as a sign that he's getting more comfortable with you.

You nodded, applying some pressure on his shoulders to lay him down on his back. The man let you maneuver him, his hands placed by his sides. "What a stressful way to live," you fake sympathy. You're positioned yourself over him torso, pressing kisses to his abdomen. "Is that why you called for me? Wanted someone else to take control of your life for a night?" You didn't see him nod his head, too busy with tasting his skin.

'Koala' had gotten less tense, even sighing contently you met the waistband of his pants. You unbuttoned the top his pants and he lifted up his hips to make it easier. You pulled them down to see his boxers, slightly tented up. You smiled, moving downwards to be face to face with his half hard on.

With gentleness you touched him through his boxers. He was warm even through his clothing, and happily rubbed him in appreciation. He groaned, thrusting his hips up to get more friction. You bit back your laughter, pleased with his desperation. It makes it all easier on you to take control. Not that you needed to try hard anyway, he was more than willing to let you take the reins.

"Do you want me to take these off baby?" Your voice was slurty. With a breath caught in his throat, he nodded. "Nuh-uh," you tsked. "I wanna hear you say it." 'Koala' lifted his head up his hooded eyes meeting yours. "Please take them off. Nyx, I need you to do whatever you want to me. If I don't like something I'll let you know, but you're doing amazing so far."

That's all the permission you needed to strip him nude. His words left you flushed, even speechless. It's been a while since someone complimented you in such a way, as if they depending on you. It was a weird power trip, but you indulged in it nonetheless. You placed yourself between his legs, grabbing his length in awe. His cock was a pretty color, slightly darker than his torso. His tip was flourished in pink, eager to be played with.

You weren't even touching him much, gentle hands squeezing and stroking. It must've been a very long time since he's been with someone because of how much he was moaning. A part of you felt pity for the man, it's obvious how lonely he's been. You start to wonder what type of job he must have, how isolating it must be.

Since when I start caring about their personal life, you snap out of your thoughts.

With his heavy cock in your hands, you angled it to your mouth. You let your hot breath waft over his dick, watching 'Koala' squirm from the sensation. A part of you wants to tease him, to ghost around him and drive him crazy. You know better than to of that though, he needs unbearable pleasure to forget his life, even if for an hour.

So you lick a stripe up his length, running your tongue over his sensitive head. He whimpered, a beautiful sound that encouraged you do to more. "I can't believe you don't think you're pretty. You should hear the sounds you make. So pretty," you praise him. The man responds well, smiling lazily.

You feel his hands shift onto your head, gently stroking your hair. Ah, he's the romantic type, you think. You place the head of his cock into your mouth to ket your mouth adjust to his shape. He tastes clean and you find loving his musk. You moan on his dick, pressing your head down a little further until you feel your throat tightening.

Chris keened at your lips as he pulled your hair back in a make shift pony tail. He watched as your head bobbed up and down in a fluid motion. He knew his cock was a little thicker than average, and to see you so desperately fit in all in your mouth was more than enough to make him want to finish then and there.

He can tell were trying not to gag around his cock, instead having your eyes water at the stretch. You called him pretty? You should see yourself. Lips red, swollen, glossy as you roll it over the head of his cock. How your waterline threatens to have tears spill every time you blink up at him. The way Chris can see the head of his cock poking out of your cheek. Yeah, you should be the one called pretty.

With his cock wet and hard, you've decided that it was enough to get to the main course. It took strength to pull away from him as your mouth begged to be full again. The man below you missed the touch too, he whined and thrusted his hips up to get you back on his dick. You giggled, using your dominant hand to give him a couple of good stroked before you sat up.

Your customer's eyes never left you, and despite being the only one who still wore clothes, you felt nude. He was looking at you, a person; not you, the object. It made you feel confident, nervous, shy, respected. Maybe it's the fact that because his eyes are all that you can see, it intensifies his gaze more. Still, it was a feeling you hadn't experienced since taking on this job.

"You having a good time baby?" You don't really need to ask. You can tell how eager he is when you straddled him, pinning his chest down with your hands. He reach up to kneed your ass, squishing the soft flesh. "Fuck, you have no idea," he moans. It was then that you notice a slight accent, information you'll tuck away for later.

"I think I do," you challenge. "Look at hard you are, you got my little pussy all wet just from sucking you off." To prove your point, you lifted the little flimsy skirt you had on to flash your cunt. You used one hand to separate your folds, showing your arousal to the man before you.

On instinct, he moved his hand from your ass to touch you. He literally moaned merely from touching you, playing with the wetness. "Shit," he swore. "Is that all for me?" A sudden rush of heat bubbled in your stomach and chest. He must've said it in the heat of the moment, but you couldn't stop the blush in your cheeks from forming.

You bit your lower lips and nodded. You pulled your hand away from your pussy and placed you fingers in your mouth. 'Koala' watched as you tasted yourself, his eyes desperate and wanting. "I would offer you a taste, but I don't think that can happen, can it?" You teased. A look of regret flashed in his eyes for a second. "Don't tempt me," he played right back.

You laughed softly with him, lifting your hips up to finally put his cock where it belonged tonight. You grabbed the base of his cock the angle is towards your entrance, rubbing it to mix your essence. You should wear a condom. You always wear a condom with customers, this man should be no exception. Still, you can't find it in yourself to stop just to grab a rubber. Next time, you promise yourself.

If there is a next time.

Chris clenched his teeth under the mask as you slowly sunk onto him. It was only his tip that was in and he could already feel how tight you were. His eyes were on you as you placed your hands on his torso, carefully relaxing onto him. He heard you loudly hum when you finally took him all in, cunt clenching sporadically around him. A blissful sound left Chris's lips. The feeling of being warm, hugged in all the lewdest way possibles was almost emotional.

Now that you were finally full of him, you rocked against him experimentally. He was girthy, much more than ones you were used to. 'Koala' let you adjust to him, keeping a firm hand on your sides as you grind on him. He really is letting you take fun control, your own personal, warm dildo. You could get used to that.

Your walls were finally accustomed to his cock. You could feel how your pussy molded with him inside pretty much perfectly. You started with gentle bounces, warming up your legs. It was already known that you client was pretty vocal, but you underestimated just how loud he could get. How much he could groan from mere seconds of your riding.

The man cursed, heavy breathing to a point where you thought the mask might be a hazard. "Fuck...shit! I'm s-sorry, it's just so- oh-" he cut himself off with a series of whines. Yeah, there's absolutely no doubt in your mind that he hasn't been getting any in probably years. Instead, you comfort him, something you wouldn't normally do for pathetic customers. "That's okay babe, just means I'm doing a good job huh?"

He nods frantically, half listening and half in a different headspace. It doesn't take you long to start riding in a rougher manner. You could hear how your ass slaps against his thighs. It does take a lot power to keep your composure. To not get lost in the pleasure this man is so willing to be for you. Even in this state, you need to keep it at least somewhat professional.

'Koala' just feels too good. With how his raw dick is sliding easily in and out of you, how he stretches you out in pleasurable angles, when his head hits the very deepest parts of you. Being cowgirl has usually given you the advantage in most cases. Like this, you're able to have your customer not fully settled in, just having a maximum of half their cock inside until they finish. With this guy, you just had to have all of him inside. It was a need.

Your knees were planted on the bed, your hands now placed to hold spill your boobs from the bralette you wore. You cupped your breasts, playing with your nipples as you rocked on him. The man below you groaned, using one hand to move up to also play with your chest. He gently squeezed you, feeling how you settled against his palm. When he decided he had a good feel, he moved his fingers to your nipples.

Not that you could see, but he was salivating. Mouth so desperate to taste at least some of you. He wanted to take your bud in his mouth and bite, lick, suck. You would sound so good, so pretty. You already did, truthfully. He could tell you were holding back though. You tended to barely keep your lips parted as you signed in pleasure. Your moans were soft, careful. He wanted more, he needed to hear how good you were feeling.

You weren't about to let him do that though, not when you bringing him so close to orgasm. His dick was turning an angry red with the blood flow and his hands had gotten more possessive. He helped you with your ride, bouncing you up and down on his cock even though you both knew he wasn't supposed to do that.

Still, you let him have an ounce of control. Plus it helped hit him deeper in your pussy.

"You feel it baby? Gonna come inside my pretty little pussy?" You were breathless as you spoke. You were sure he didn't even hear you with all the groaning he was doing, but he actually began to nod his head. "Fuck yeah....So deep," he whined. "Gonna give you all of it." With determination, he thrusted upwards. You squealed at the impact, biting your lower lip to suppress the moans you wanted to release.

His grip was strong on you, but you knew better than to actually let a man raw dog you and cum inside. You're not in love with him or anything.

So imagine the cry he let out when you grabbed his wrists to rip off your sides, lifting yourself completely off his wet cock. You feel empty without him, but it's a sacrifice you have to make. With your hand, you jerk him off. His dick is slippery and warm, like a trophy of the pussy you gave him.

Chris fisted the sheets, back practically arching off the bed as your soft hands stroked him. It hurt, he was overstimulated. So much pleasure that it was unbearable, especially on the head of his cock. You were merciless and you knew that you were giving him too much. Still, he couldn't stop the deep sob from his chest. The cum the shot through his cock onto his chest, your hands.

You purred at the sight, slowing your strokes at collect his orgasm. He was still crying under you, his pretty eyes glazed with tears. "Oh what a good boy," you praise. "All this for me?" You mocked his earlier words. He laughed, though it sounded more like a sigh.

"Maybe I could have a taste." With that, you leaned down to place you mouth on his semi hard dick. He hissed at the contact, showing how sensitive he was. That didn't matter, you still sucked a little harder than you should've. You could taste his cum in your mouth, surprised that it didn't taste bad. He's staying hydrated at least.

You let a few more licks take place before pulling away. The poor man looked like he was silently begging for you to stop and continue all at once. You wiped the cum off your hands on your skirt, and you felt somewhat guilty for wasting it. Your customer was still catching his breath when you hopped off the bed. You went to the bathroom, grabbing a rag and wetting it with warm water.

You didn't need to wipe yourself that much, it was really for your customer.

You made your way back to the room to see 'Koala' sitting up, seemly dazed. You knew that look, it was pretty common to see when you first started here. It was a look of disbelief. The 'I just really paid for sex with a slut' type of look. You sat besides him, rubbing the cloth in gentle motion on his tummy.

Snapping out of his daze, he looked at you. You glanced up at him, then back to your task. "You doing okay?" You asked. He leaned back so you could get a better view of his mess. "Yeah," he nods. "I was just thinking." You hum in understanding, "The post-nut clarity." His eyes go wide, as if feeling bad for making it so obvious.

You shake your head, "I get it, really. It's not a big deal. Just letting you know though, I'm not giving you back the money just cuz you regret it."

"No!" He almost shouts. "No I mean, I don't regret it. And I wouldn't make you give me back the money. It was good, you were great. It's just been a while for me."

You finish wiping, holding up the cum rag to show him. "Yeah, I can see that it's been a while." 'Koala' embarrassingly laughs, his hand reaching up to play with his ear. Suddenly, you grow curious about what he looks like. You can tell his hair is a dark color, but is it straight? Curly? Wavy? Not that it matters, he got his lay. He probably won't be back again.

"Well, we got about 15 minutes left pretty boy. Anything else you wanna do?" You question, flopping back down on the bed suggestively. He smiled under the mask, and you can tell by the way his eyes crinkle. "Actually yeah, I really wanted to eat you out." His answer leaves you a little shocked, but you recover quickly.

"Is that so? And how are you gonna do that with your mask on?" You playfully interrogate. His eyes blink a few times, then he comes to a resolution. "You have to promise not to look." He pauses. "You just can't look."

Damn, he must really be well known. "Fine," you give in. You grab a nearby pillow and hold it to your chest. You law down on the bed and open you legs. You can hear 'Koala' practically fall to his knees on the ground, his hands encasing your waist. It sucks that you have to have the pillow blocking his face. He would look so pretty with your pussy in his face.

"Let's see what you can do in 15 minutes."

a/n: hheeyy so this my first kpop fic lmao. took a while to write, I really wanted to make it realistic as possible, but that's hard. anywho, sorry about my updates being slow. I got strep throat lets gooooo. feedback is appreciated!

update: second post to this story here! update 2!: third part here

taglist: @whatamidoing89, @panda-wolf, @fatgumsbby, @nekohollowsychogoth

#smut #skz x reader #skz smut #skzsmut #skz #skz bang chan #skz chris #bang chan #christopher bang #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #lee know #seungmin #changbin #bangchan x reader #bangchan smut #hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #i.n skz #in skz #I have to pee really bad #about bangchan

[yorshie]

11 & 10 with Raph, a sort of confession\first kiss type of deal please! I need my boy to discover being loved.

-justalotoffanfic ❤️

Oooooooooooooo. First kiss. I think you might like reading this if you haven't yet, But Also Thank You for Requesting on Blurb Day! Let's have Pining Soft Raph to fight off those Mikey Brooms for a bit, eh? (edit: uh..... I guess this turned out more pining Reader and hopeless kiss. oops) also, sorry i forgot to do this with the other side blog requests but @justalotoffanfiction

Being with Raph wasn't always....a straight line. The curve of progress sometimes doubled back on itself, or stalled for a bit before resuming at a glacial place.

It was easy enough to understand, you thought, watching him move purposefully through his workout, racking weights and eyeing the amount before he slotted himself underneath on the inclined bench. There were things you'd probably never know about, but the few big ticket items you had heard of left several things completely clear.

The Turtles had been hunted, and could be so again in the future. They weren't human, and people sometimes reacted badly to that. And the last thing, probably the root of your problem with Raph, was that there would always be someone 'better' for you, in his mind.

Someone that didn't live in the sewers, that didn't have a shell and a different amount of fingers, someone that didn't tower over you or place themselves in danger over and over again.

He was stubborn, you thought with an exhale, watching him knock off a weight from each side and slot himself under the bar once more, the suicide set causing his muscles to twitch under the exertion.

You watched the tensed line of a vein curling over his tricep, the little hollow below his elbow dipping in and out of existence with each flex. Your eyes followed the strain of his deltoid where it disappeared under his plastron-

"Whatcha thinking about, sweetheart?" His gruff voice called, words bitten short from exertion, and you blinked, pulled from your line of perusal.

"What?" You asked back, shifting in your seat, playing innocent even as you drank in his figure again.

"There's something rattling around in that pretty head of yours," He paused, knocked off another pair of weights, and you followed the beads of sweat running down the back of his elbow without conscious thought. "Gotta be something you're not telling me, isn't it?"

Your mouth pulled to the side, not quite a frown, not quite a smirk, and you finally stood when he paused once more, chest heaving as he re-racked the bar and glanced your way.

You could be stubborn, you reminded yourself, but another little voice echoed the words, sounding a lot more sure of itself than the immediate bravado. You could also push too hard.

"I just..." You trailed off, but Raph ducked a shoulder and leaned forward, resting his shell against the bar. He lifted one eye ridge towards you, clearly waiting.

When you still couldn't get the words out, he gestured you over with a jerk of his head, repeated the motion with more sass when you took too long.

When you finally stood in front of him, eyes taking in how his plastron swelled with each breath, the obvious way his arms had all but doubled from the exercise, you swallowed heavily.

Raph snorted at your ogling, one large hand coming up to tuck against your waist. "I uh," He tapped his fingers, slowly, against the back of your hip, obviously thinking, " I don't.... I really don't wanna end up doing the wrong thing here, sweetheart, but-"

He broke off, staring at your face, and you couldn't care less who moved first, just that you did-

And you were both stubborn idiots, it seemed, because you both bobbed when one should have weaved, and the first time you missed completely, lips nudging along cheeks instead of finding each other.

Your fingers found his jaw halfway through his eye roll, and his hand cupped the back of your head through exasperation more so than any tender feeling, but the tiny well of ire at how stubborn he was disappeared the second his lips landed true.

They were wide, and soft, and you could tell he was trying so hard to keep it sweet. After the third tentative scrub you finally lost your patience and opened your mouth to lick against his lower lip, and he pulled back with a grunt and a look in his eyes that promised retribution.

You grinned at him, feeling drunk, and a little bit stubborn yourself.

#blurb day #tmnt bayverse #tmnt raphael #bayverse raphael #bayverse raph x reader

[devildom-moss]

I got one!! Lucifer with a GN MC who gets one of those silly chibi plush of him (in-universe maybe Raph made it) and he's low-key jealous they spend more time with it than him. (sfw please!)

I'm going to be honest, there is probably less MC (and Lucifer x reader interactions) in this than expected, but I hope you still like it! It's got a bit of fluff and a lot of jealousy. (Who doesn't love Lose-ifer being all jealous and stupid?) There's also a decent serving of Raphael in this. Oops.

Lucifer being jealous of a plush version of himself

(Lucifer x gn!MC)

(SFW)

Word Count: +1,000

Raphael knew what he was doing, Lucifer convinced himself. That wicked, lousy, no-good, rotten angel was doing this as revenge for something. Maybe leaving him behind during the war? Raphael was aggressive – but petty? Maybe not. No, perhaps he was just charmed by you, too. Now, Lucifer was being replaced.

Oh, no, not by the angel himself, but by some handmade plush – no bigger than a foot long – designed to look like Lucifer. Raphael had given you the plush last week, and while Lucifer had to admit that it was well-made, he didn’t appreciate that you had been carrying that small, poor excuse for a replacement around all week.

 It was embarrassing that Lucifer found himself so foolishly jealous. It was just a doll that looked like him, so why was he so upset about it? If anything, he should have been happy that the doll was crafted in his image. You could be carrying around a small plush effigy of Solomon. That would really piss him off.

What was Lucifer supposed to do with his childish jealousy? Set aside his pride and confront you about his desire for more attention? Admit that he wanted your eyes on him and the fact that you clung to a doll that someone – Raphael, no less – had made for you left him annoyed to the point that he had considered hiding the doll on three different occasions and burning it once – if only the opportunity to pry it from your adoring arms had presented itself? Could you just hold him in your arms for one night instead of that damn doll? Of course, Lucifer thought himself to be above all that honesty nonsense and decided to attack the secondary source of his irritation.

“A minute of your time, Raphael.” Lucifer physically blocked the exit from the House of Lamentation. The angel had been kind enough to drop some fabric scraps off for Leviathan. “Care for a glass of Demonus?”

“Do I have a choice? Are you interested in trying to drink me under the table again?” Raphael looked Lucifer up and down. “Sure.”

Lucifer brought Raphael to his study and poured the alcohol into two glasses. He had selected something a bit bitter – not that Lucifer expected Raphael to be opposed to something bitter.

“Here you are,” Lucifer hummed. There was an off-putting elegance in the gentle motions Lucifer contorted himself into when handing the glass to Raphael. While Lucifer was typically a class act, Raphael picked up on the exaggerated sweetness of it. Lucifer even offered him a polite smile. The Devildom could go through another deadly cold spell before that disingenuous smile would fool Raphael, who waited patiently for Lucifer to take a seat across from him before he responded.

“Thank you, Lucifer.” Raphael smiled and took a sip of his drink. Not half bad. It could be a bit more bitter, though. Then again, perhaps Lucifer is bitter enough. “I take it you have something to discuss with me?”

“About the doll,” Lucifer mused, trailing off to open the way for a confession – to what, he wasn’t sure.

“The one I made for MC?”

“Precisely.” Lucifer set his glass down and crossed his legs.

“I noticed MC has been paying it a lot of attention. What’s the matter, Lucifer? Are you jealous?” Raphael questioned him in a straightforward tone, but Lucifer understood that this constituted teasing.

“Is there a reason it looks like me?” Lucifer slipped around the question.

“That was my intention. It’s obvious that MC clings to you. They adore you. I figured a Lucifer-shaped doll would allow you a bit of space and keep MC from feeling lonely when you are too busy to pay them any mind.” Raphael’s words stung in Lucifer’s ears.

“How considerate of you. Mission accomplished.” Lucifer wished he had put a curse on Raphael’s glass – nothing deadly, just something that would make him feel a bit better about the honesty from Raphael. If only he had pulled a page from Satan and Belphie’s book.  

“Is it serving its purpose too well for your liking? Don’t tell me you’re honestly jealous of a doll, now. Isn’t envy supposed to be Leviathan’s whole shtick? You’re going to give him a complex.” Raphael let out a small laugh and cut it off with another sip of Demonus. “They’d never pick a doll over the real demon himself. Even I know that. As I said before, they adore you.”

Lucifer’s face flushed – and it wasn’t from the alcohol. He was moping, but he needed Raphael’s blunt delivery to knock some sense into him. If only Lucifer had asked, Raphael would have been more than happy to knock sense into him with a spear. That would have been less embarrassing.

“Sorry, Raphael. I forgot that I have business to attend to.” Lucifer stood up and smoothed his vest down. “Please be on your way.”

Raphael’s eyes widened. “I didn’t finish my drink.”

“A shame.” Lucifer smirked. “Next time, perhaps.”

“Based on today’s conversation, I take it that won’t be for a while.” Raphael stood up, glass in hand, and downed the rest of his Demonus. He exhaled sharply at the sudden, mild burn. That was not a chugging drink. “Until next time. Give MC my best.”

“Sure.”

Raphael headed for the door, stopping just short of leaving. “You should try honesty next time. It might save you a glass of Demonus. It was good, though. Thank you.”

With Raphael safely out of sight, Lucifer pulled out his D.D.D. and went into his messages. He couldn’t resist smiling when he noticed the last thing you had sent him was that flapping Blackjack with hearts sticker.

Lucifer: MC, come to my room when you get a chance. I require your presence to put me at ease. I would also like to provide you with a bit more attention than you can get from a doll.

MC: Are you jealous, Luci?

Lucifer: Perhaps. What will you do about it?

MC: I’m on my way, you big baby. I’ll cuddle with you for as long as you wish.

Lucifer: Does the offer extend to kissing as well?

MC: We’ll see.

MC:

Lucifer broke into a large grin, melting at your replies. Maybe while you were cuddling, that plush could just get lost somewhere. Who knows?

#lucifer #gn!mc #requests #anon #ask #obey me #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader

[book-place]

No-No Word

Warnings: cursing, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Chris Evans x daughter reader, Sebastian Stan x reader platonic, Anthony Mackie x reader platonic

Request: heyyy i was just wondering if you'd be willing to write for Chris Evans x daughter!reader maybe??? :)

Request by: Anon

*not my gif*

Summary: Turns out, you’re a lot smarter than Chris would’ve thought

A/N: Posting a couple short fics to get back into writing

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“Hey there, sweetheart.” Chris quickly glanced over his shoulder as you waddled into the kitchen area, “How did you sleep?”

You yawned, reaching up to rub your eyes, “Good, dada.”

Your father couldn’t help but allow his grin to widen at the sight of you, merely five years old, drowning in fuzzy pajamas and clutching a stuffed animal under your right arm.

“You up for some pancakes?” Of course, he already knew the answer.

A smile lit up your face, suddenly awake, and you nodded your head vigorously, suddenly wide awake. “Up! Up!” You chanted jumping up and down slightly as you made a grabbing motion towards the blond man.

Chris abandoned the spatchula next to the stove and scooped you up in his arms, peppering kisses on the side of your head and into your hair in a way that emitted joyous giggles from your lips.

He gently set you down on the counter, a healthy distance away from where he was cooking the batter, nodding along as you rambled about something or other and moved back to continue making the two of you breakfast.

“-and then the dog jumped as tall as you daddy!” Your eyes were wide with awe and amazement.

The man chuckled slightly, “Is that so, honey-“ He cut himself off when the spatula slipped from his grasp and landed with a small ‘clang’ onto the floor.

Immediately, he bent down to pick it up, “Oops-“

“Shit!”

Chris snapped to attention, eyes wide and alert as stared at you with a dropped jaw. You just blinked up at him innocently.

“What the- what did you say?” He asked in complete shock, those being the only words he could form at the moment.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a second before realization lit up your face and you smiled proudly, placing your hands on your hips, “Shit!” You repeated.

“How the- who-“ Your father sputtered.

He had always been extra careful and sure that he never cursed around you and that others he was with didn’t either.

“No, honey,” He finally came to his senses and turned off the stove for a moment as he bent down to be eye level with you, “That’s a bad word, we don’t say that.”

And your eyebrows were furrowed once more, “Shit?”

Chris nodded, “Yes, that’s a no-no word, we don’t say that.”

A pout immediately formed on your lips and you crossed your arms, “But it’s a big kid word, and I’m a big kid!”

He shook his head back and forth, “Where did you even hear it?”

“Uncle Sebby!” You cheered excitedly.

A look of realization dawned on the actor before it was quickly replaced by exhaustion, “Is that so?” He asked as he ran a frustrated hand down his face, knowing Sebatian was about to get a very unhappy call in a few minutes.

You nodded, oblivious to your fathers feelings, “Uh-huh, he said it but told me it was a big kid word, and that I couldn’t say it until I was a big kid.”

“Then why are you saying it now?” He raised a stern eyebrow in your direction.

You grinned, “Because I asked Uncle Anthony later if I was a big kid and he said yes!”

Chris was silent for a moment, and it took everything in him not to burst out in laughter at the brilliance of your statement, how at even such a young age you and figured out a way to get around a rule and still act innocent about the whole thing.

Failing, he let a few chuckles slip through his lips and he picked you up and carried you on his hip, “That’s still a no-no word, no matter what your uncles say. Got it?” He playfully rubbed his nose against your cheek and poked his fingers at your sides, tickling you.

You shrieked with laughter, trying to force yourself away from him, “Okay, okay, daddy! No more tickles! No more tickles!”

#platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x reader platonic #chris evans x child reader #chris evans x daughter reader #x daughter reader #x child reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x reader platonic #sebastian stan x child reader #anthony mackie x reader #anthony mackie x reader platonic #anthony mackie x child reader

[here2bbtstrash]

heartless (explicit)

genre: pwp, smut, exes hooking up - a part of the jeju shore collab !

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: after a wild summer at the shore where he made more than a few mistakes, jungkook is ready to remind you why you always take him back.

word count: 7.4k

other works in this collab: You DTF? by @haliiimede and Himbo Hours by @gimmethatagustd

contains: explicit sexual content!!! set in 2009, member POV, established relationship (exes), mentions of infidelity, mentions of alcohol and drug use, jk blows a stranger (definitely not anyone we know 👀) in a bar bathroom, some good ol' fashioned 2009 biphobia lmao, EXCESSIVE use of petnames (kookie and jagi) like it's really too much, cunnilingus, fingering, a lot of pussy appreciation bc of who i am as a person, they make a sex tape 🎥 (reader films jk going down on her), hot tub sex, jk makes reader come with a hot tub jet, unprotected sex (smh 😔), nothing in this fic is sexually healthy pls do not replicate, multiple orgasms/overstim, a lil bit of marking, jk is toxic and i kind of love him oops, don't fight me for the ending

A/N: it's here it's here it's here!!!!! happy jeju shore day 🥰 i'm so excited to share this one with y'all, it really was supposed to be a joke thing like ~sammi and ron vibes~ yknow and then idk.... this fic ran away with me,, like tell me why i ship kookie and jagi lowkey 🥺 over here like maybe one day they'll work it out 🥺 ANYWAY uhhh heed the warnings, this one's a doozy, have fun, stay hydrated 💦 and make sure you check out jai and hali's fics toooooo for your full ~weekend at the shore~ !!!! love you babes, thank you as always for reading 😘💜

read on AO3 !

“Shit, gonna come.”

Thank god, Jungkook thinks to himself. This guy has some impressive stamina, which he’d normally appreciate, but he’s in a bad mood tonight. Getting his throat fucked hasn’t helped like he thought it might.

Even though the guy is cute, with a big body and a sweet set of dimples, Jungkook is just going through the motions. He’s annoyed by the way the bathroom floor is digging into his knees, the way his jaw is starting to lock up with how long he’s been at this.

He shuts his eyes, remembers to breathe through his nose, and then a hand presses hard to the back of his head and his mouth starts to fill, bitter and heady. Careful not to spill a drop, Jungkook keeps his suction tight through the cock-twitches of this guy’s— he didn’t get his name, because he really doesn’t care to know it— orgasm, until he finally feels the fingers in his hair release.

Jungkook gets to his feet and stumbles to the sink, gripping the porcelain edge while he spits out the glossy strings of a stranger’s load. He’s not a swallower, because he’s not gay. He’s just good at sucking dick— and Jungkook likes doing things he’s good at.

“Appreciate it!” The stranger’s voice echoes over his shoulder, followed by the sound of the bathroom door swinging on its hinges and slamming shut, leaving him alone with a sink full of cum.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

Jungkook stares himself down in the mirror, runs a hand over his hair to make sure it didn’t get fucked up from that guy’s truly obscenely large hand. Thankfully his extra-hold gel seems to be doing its job.

At the realization that his teeth are grinding together, he presses a knuckle into the hinge of his jaw, trying to encourage it to relax. He’s been clenching all night, and he’s not sure if he should blame the six redbull vodkas he’s thrown back or the keybumps of something he did off the bar: it was either coke or molly.

Coke, he thinks. He’s on edge.

He can’t shake this feeling, like he’s a wild animal trapped in a cage, as he pushes the bathroom door open and presses his way back into the mass of bodies in the club. He’s gone out every night this week looking for something, but he can’t find it. It’s not at the bottom of a bottle or in white powder snorted through a rolled-up hundred. And it’s certainly not in any of the random strangers he’s taken in the bathroom or the back alley or on the hood of his car in the parking lot.

He misses you.

It’s been almost three weeks since you last came around, and even then, it was only to scream at him while you dug your clothes out of his dresser and threw your spare toothbrush in the trash can. All because someone left you that stupid fucking note detailing the night Jungkook went blackout, where the last thing he remembers is Jimin convincing him to switch to Malibu.

If what Jungkook’s been told is the truth, he apparently started a bar fight and had a foursome that night— just, unfortunately, with three people who weren’t you. He kind of wishes he could remember at least one of those.

Fuck this, he thinks to himself, surrounded by trashed club-goers on all sides, bodies slick with sweat and tanning oil, the floor sticky from spilled drinks and probably a few other things. Jungkook knows exactly where he wants to be, and it’s between your thighs, not at one of the seven shitty clubs he and his hyungs have been rotating through all summer.

Figuring Taehyung and Jimin are fine to handle their own shit, he shoves through the crowd a little more aggressively than he needs to, and definitely knocks one drunk girl flat on her ass without bothering to look back.

The slight chill in the air when he steps outside is a welcome relief from the stale heat of the club. It’s the last weekend before everyone packs up and heads for the mainland, which means he’s running out of chances to see you, to try and convince you to get the fuck over this latest bump in the road and take him back.

Jungkook knows he loves you, he’s sure of it. He wants to marry you someday, get a little house in the suburbs, pop out a few kids, all that shit. But right now he’s young, and he just wants to party and have fun. He doesn’t understand why you care so much.

Driving home with the windows down, going a cool 80 in a 40, he grips the wheel with one hand while the other digs his Razr phone out of the pocket of his ripped jeans. He hits the first speed dial where your number is saved and has to call three times before you finally answer. The fact that you picked up at all means he has a chance tonight.

“What, Kookie?!”

Probably the greeting he should’ve anticipated, but his stomach still flips at the nickname. You’re the only one allowed to use it: he’s strictly Jungkook to most, JK to his hyungs.

He fidgets absentmindedly with the car lights, the AC, the button for the windows. This is always the hard part, talking about feelings and shit. But it’s what you want, so he’ll do it for you.

“Wanna see you,” he murmurs into the phone, as if he needs to keep his voice down so he won’t get caught being soft.

“Fuck off,” you snap instantly, but you don’t hang up.

Jungkook’s played this game enough times to know what it means: he’s got a rapidly shrinking window of opportunity to say the right thing. He clicks his tongue against his teeth, trying to buy himself some time. “Come on, don’t be like that.”

“Like what?” You huff.

Stopped at a red light, Jungkook tips his head back against the car seat and shuts his eyes for a second, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of his thoughts. “Don’t be mean to me. I already told you I’m sorry, it’s not fair for you to hold this shit over my head.”

“I’m not holding anything over your head, Kookie, you fucking cheated—“

His grip on the steering wheel tightens, and he has to hold himself back from stomping too hard on the gas pedal when the light changes. “Yeah, I fucking know, okay? But it’s the last weekend. Is this really how you want to leave it?”

The silence on the other end of the line is more than enough to answer his question.

“Just… come over. Let me see you. Please?” Jungkook grimaces, embarrassed to be begging. He wouldn’t do it for anybody else.

Gravel crunches under the tires of his car as he pulls into the driveway, and he’s only sure the call didn’t disconnect when he hears the way you sigh softly on the other end. It’s a sigh he knows well.

“Fine.”

You don’t say anything else, and neither does Jungkook. He doesn’t know what else there is to say, or why any of this has to be such a big fucking deal. But he waits, until finally you hang up, and then he flips his phone shut. Girls.

Once inside, he makes quick work of getting everything together: sweeping the empty beer cans on the kitchen counter into the trash, spraying on a little more Hugo Boss, a mouthwash rinse to rid himself of the lingering taste of cum. The place you rented for the summer is just down the road, so it’s as he’s spitting in the sink for the second time tonight that he hears you bang loudly on the front door.

Time to turn on the charm, Jungkook thinks to himself, and then he exits the bathroom and reaches a hand between his shoulder-blades to pull his shirt off over his head. He drops it to the floor of his bedroom before heading down the hallway to let you in.

Jungkook swings the door wide and leans one arm on the frame as he takes you in. You’re standing on his stoop, arms crossed angrily over your pink crop top, belly button piercing glinting in the porch light. He smiles fondly, remembering the summer you got it done, the way you squeezed his hand so tight when the needle went through that he nearly lost feeling.

It was nice then, the way you acted like you really needed him. You used to be so sweet. He wonders when that changed.

It’s been too long. “Hi, jagi,” he says, and it comes out softer than he would’ve liked. It makes him sound weak.

“Fuck off. Answering the fucking door shirtless. You did that on purpose.” You roll your eyes as you brush past him to walk inside.

He turns sideways, purposefully taking up most of the doorway so you have to squeeze through, and when you do, his fingers hook in the belt-loops of your jeans to pull you closer.

“Just like you wore these?” There’s no way you don’t know what those white low-rise jeans do to him. Jungkook always tells you they make your ass look so fat, and even though you complain every time, he means it as an honest compliment.

Clearly still trying to act pissed off, you pop your gum at him, but he knows better than to believe that you’re really mad. If you were, you wouldn’t have come here. And you certainly wouldn’t be looping your arms around his neck and tilting your head up like that, moving so close that he can feel the heat of your breath ghosting over him.

“Maybe. What are you gonna do about it?” You purr, like you don’t already know the answer.

Jungkook’s lips find yours at the same time his hands slide around your hips, fingers sinking into the denim stretched tight over your ass. You squeak a little at how hard he grabs, and he takes the opportunity to swipe his tongue into your mouth, deftly retrieving the wad of gum from between your teeth. He pulls back with a cocky grin and spits it halfway across the yard.

“How about you come inside and find out?”

“Jesus.” You make a face when you step in first, leaving your Gucci flip flops in the front hall, and Jungkook turns back to shut the door behind him as he follows you. “You guys trashed this fuckin’ place.”

He frowns at your utter disregard for his cleaning efforts, but he follows your gaze and, well, you’re not wrong. He probably could’ve done something about all the half-empty liquor bottles, the overflowing ashtrays, the sink full of dishes. But right now he really doesn’t give a shit.

Jungkook closes the distance between you again, arms slipping around your waist from behind, head ducking down to nuzzle in the crook of your neck, to make you squirm the way he likes. “This is the bachelor life. We need a woman’s touch,” he murmurs against your skin, and you scoff a laugh.

“I’m serious,” Jungkook protests. He pauses to suck a mark into your skin, only stopping when he manages to coax a soft whimper out of you. “Why don’t you and I get a place together next summer? I’ll tell Jimin and Tae they’re on their own.”

You hum softly, in the way that tells him you want that, too. But you’re still playing coy, even as your hands slide over his arms locked tight around you. “That’s very presumptuous of you.”

“Maybe I should do some convincing,” Jungkook’s lips brush over the shell of your ear, and you wriggle out of his grasp, crossing into the living room and tossing your purse on the couch before dropping down unceremoniously next to it.

The wild animal feeling hasn’t dissipated— when he follows after you, Jungkook can’t help but feel like a predator stalking his prey.

It’s probably fucked up, but he likes the chase.

Leaning back on your hands, you gaze up at him, jeans sunk low enough for Jungkook to see the pink straps of your thong that peek out over the curve of your hip. The visual makes his own pants start to feel tight.

You tilt your head expectantly. “I’m listening.”

“I wasn’t gonna talk,” he admits with a smirk, standing over you, one leg teasing your thighs apart.

You reach forward to trail a hand down the defined lines of his stomach— the gym has been good to him this summer— and blink your long lashes innocently. “Will you at least use your mouth?”

“Well, now I know what you came over for,” Jungkook growls. His hands drop to brace on the back of the couch behind you, arm muscles flexing as he cages you in, and he leans down to capture you in a heady kiss. He missed it all: the way you smell, how soft your lips are, the way you still taste like spearmint. Your needy little noises when he licks his tongue into your mouth and the way you suck so diligently on it. You’re always so good for him, always so pretty when you come back.

“Take your pants off, jagi,” he breathes into your mouth, shifting to grip your neck with one hand as he kisses you again. He can feel a soft whine in your throat under his palm when you do as you’re told.

Jungkook pulls back once your jeans are kicked all the way off, knees digging into the carpet as he settles between your legs. His biceps wrap under your thighs and he tugs your bare ass to the edge of the couch, pausing to slip a finger under the thin string of your thong and gently snap it against your skin.

You spread your legs wider for him, leaning back against the cushion. “Don’t tease,” you huff. The desperation in your voice just turns him on more.

“Impatient,” Jungkook notes with a smirk. “And I haven’t even told you what I want yet.”

“What you want?” Your attempt at sass is undercut by the moan Jungkook works out of you when he sucks another hickey into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. He pulls back with a final lick over the mark that sends a shiver rippling through you, makes your nipples stiffen against the thin fabric of your crop top and your hips tilt up instinctively for more.

His eyes find yours again. “Let’s make a movie.”

“Kookie,” you whine, and Jungkook cups a hand over the front of your panties, rubbing circles into the thin material, then gently squeezing your pussy lips together to help argue his case. He can feel the muscles in your thighs twitch in response— always so sensitive.

“Come on,” he murmurs, pushy. “I know you have that camera in your bag.” You take your Sony digital camera with you everywhere, like it’s a third limb, like you believe nothing really happens unless it’s documented on Facebook.

Jungkook reaches for the strap of your Coach purse and drops it between your spread thighs. “I want you to film me while I go down on you. That way you can watch it back when you need to remember why you keep me around.” He punctuates the request with a wink, because he knows you can’t say no to him. That fact is made evident by how quickly you dig in to retrieve the little pink camera before tossing your bag aside again.

“I don’t watch porn, Kookie,” you scoff, already turning it on and fiddling with the settings. “I’m not nasty like you.”

“You’ll watch this one,” Jungkook corrects, hands pressing on your thighs to encourage them to spread further. Your skin is smooth and warm under his touch as he slides his fingertips back up to the line of your panties. “Now shhh. The only thing I wanna hear talk is this pussy.”

When the telltale beep indicates you’ve started recording, Jungkook stares pointedly into the camera with a cocky smirk. “Missed you, jagi,” he says, both to the you on the other side of the camera and the you who will watch this in the future, when you inevitably get mad about some dumb shit and break up with him again. As if you could ever really stay away.

His eye contact doesn’t falter as he licks a long, slow stripe up the front of your panties, taking his time, tongue laid flat to fully soak through the fabric. When he leans back, one hand snakes between your thighs to tug the damp material to the side, tattooed fingers pressing into a V to spread your folds apart. It always makes you squirm, but he loves to admire you like this. He’s not ashamed to like pussy.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, reaching the hand that isn’t parting your pussy lips up to beckon for the camera. “Let me film. Won’t get your face in it.”

You hand it over silently, clearly already too turned on to make a big show of protesting. Jungkook turns the lens on your pussy, holds it up close as he traces two fingers over your folds, keeping the pressure light enough that you squirm and flutter cutely beneath it.

“Fuck, look at you,” he murmurs when he teases his touch down to your entrance. There’s already enough slickness there to earn him an audible wet noise as he goes, his pattern a slow, lazy circle. He presses a finger in just to drag it back out, and a thin, glossy string of arousal comes with it. “Your pussy loves me too much. That’s why you can’t stay mad.”

Jungkook paints the wetness he pulled out of you up to stroke over the hood of your clit, and it’s enough to edge your breathing with shy sounds. You bring your palm up to your mouth, clearly trying to keep quiet, and it only encourages him to dip back in for more. He uses two fingers this time, slipping past your entrance into the tight velvet heat of your cunt, always so warm and willing for him.

You sigh at the loss when he pulls back, more arousal drooling out of you to chase after his fingers. Jungkook loves to play with you like this: you squeak when he squishes the whole of your cunt up in his hand, reveling in the noise of your slick folds pressing together, in the way your pussy’s gone needy for him. All swollen and puffy, all soft, dripping juice like ripe fruit.

He works up some saliva in his mouth and lets it dribble down over your slit between his fingers, then follows it with another pass of his tongue.

“Oh my fucking god,” you whimper.

“You know I’ll always treat it right, jagiya.” Jungkook purrs, releasing his grip on your pussy lips to pinch at your clit while he passes the camera back. “But let me show you in case you forget.”

He firmly tugs your panties down your thighs and leaves them to dangle off one ankle before guiding your legs to hook over his shoulders. After a final glance up to make sure you’re still filming, he leans in to properly trace his tongue through your slick folds, lapping at the arousal pooled at your entrance while his thumb brushes over your clit to work up more.

Jungkook’s brows pinch together and he grunts in appreciation of your taste, thick and familiar; he’s gone too long without it. He’s eating properly now, alternating between dragging his tongue flat and flicking it gently over your clit in the way that makes you gasp and shove your hips up towards his mouth, rough and wild, no good-girl pretense left in you.

His arm locks across your stomach to keep you where he wants you, and he pulls back with a smack of his lips and a cheeky smile for the camera.

“Relax. I’ve got you.”

This is the part he loves: when you start to come undone, worked up enough to be responsive to every little touch. Jungkook licks broad, showy stripes up to your clit, eyes fixed on you through the lens, enjoying the way your soft sighs blossom into full-out moans, matching pace to the steady rhythm of his tongue. 

“Kookie,” you groan, “nnh, fuck— f-feels so good.”

He hums a laugh against your folds, and the vibrations make you cry out so he does it some more, lips closing to suck firmly at your clit while his mouth buzzes sweet, low notes around it. You arch up beneath him and your moan scrapes rough against the back of your throat, desperate.

It was a stroke of genius to have you film it, Jungkook thinks absentmindedly to himself. Documented proof that nobody else could ever do you this good.

“Fuck.” Your voice brings him back to attention as he continues to pulse suction against your clit, tongue fluttering out again to lap at the sensitive bud. The sounds you make are slightly muffled by the manicured hand you’ve clapped over your mouth, but you’re so loud now that he can still hear every word. “Oh god, Kookie— I-I’m gonna come, oh fuck, ohhhh—”

Your hips tilt up as your orgasm overtakes you and he shoves them back down, practically growling as he forces you to stay there and take it. He can feel your legs shake, the way your bare heels kick listlessly against his back as he sucks and licks you through the peak of your climax. Your pussy throbs in his mouth and drips down his chin like honey, with a taste so good he doesn’t want to stop.

“God fucking dammit,” you moan, and he keeps going until you bring one foot up to press into his shoulder to push him away. “Kookie, p-please, it’s too much.”

With a final swipe of his tongue, Jungkook pulls back, wiping at his chin with one hand. “You’re sensitive, jagi, I know.”

But there’s a reason you haven’t stopped filming, and it’s one you both know well. It was back when you first started dating, when you could never keep your clothes on around each other and barely left his room, that Jungkook learned your body expertly enough to figure it out: after you come once, your pussy gets so sensitive that he can easily work you up to a second orgasm, even from just the curl of his fingers against your g-spot.

He hopes no one else will ever get the chance to know you like this. 

You barely manage to stifle another sob and almost drop the camera when he slips two fingers into your cunt, pressing to the hilt to feel how swollen-tender you are inside. Your walls squeeze so tight around him that his cock twitches in his pants with jealousy.

Sliding one of your legs off his shoulder, he presses your thigh firmly into the couch and groans a little at the way you spread wide for him, glossed folds all flushed and pretty. It gives him a head rush to watch his hand work you open, to see the thick white cream of your arousal paint his fingers each time he pulls back just to thrust in again.

You’re wet enough now that the sound is obscene, a juicy squelch every time he fucks into you, and Jungkook can’t help but smile. He glances up. “You’re dripping on my couch, jagiya.”

You can only whimper in response.

“You want to come again?”

You nod desperately until you manage to find the word. “Please.”

“Anything for you.” Jungkook winks for the camera as he starts to flex his fingers to pet over the ridges of your front wall. You keen as he puts more weight into his strokes, your free hand reaching to cling to him and dig your nails into his bicep. He’s too keyed up to feel it, can’t focus on anything that isn’t your pussy squeezing him like a fucking vice grip, tight and hot and soft inside.

You’re past the point of being able to talk, reduced to breathless moans— “ah, ah, nnh”— because Jungkook knows exactly what to do to take you apart all over again.

This time he makes no move to stop you when your hips buck up. Instead he lets you let go, lets you fuck yourself on his hand, fluttering around his fingers and trembling all over as you start to come.

Jungkook goes a little slack-jawed watching you and momentarily forgets about the video, looking over the camera to see the expression on your face as he works you through your second peak. He loves the way you grip tight to him with your nails and your pussy, like he’s special, like you need him.

Your knees reflexively pull towards each other as your cunt-pulses slow and you finally start to come down, thighs clamping in around Jungkook’s wrist to still the motions of his hand. When he hears the whir of the camera shutter retracting and sees you toss it aside on the couch, he finally relents. You open yourself up enough that he can slip his fingers out to suck the excess off.

“What the fuck,” you finally manage as you collapse against the couch cushions, sounding beyond dazed.

Jungkook presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, trying to hide his smug smirk, and gets to his feet. As he watches your head tip back and your eyes flutter closed, he can’t help but wonder if you got what you came for. If this is the last he’ll see of you until god knows when.

Fuck that. He’s not letting you go that easy.

In one swift move Jungkook leans forward, slipping an arm between your back and the couch and sweeping the other under your knees. He tosses you over his shoulder— completely naked from the waist down— like it’s nothing at all, delivering a swift slap to your ass with the hand that isn’t wrapped around your hips.

“Kookie!” You try to sound mad but the laugh that bubbles up gives it away. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Come on,” Jungkook replies as he carries you across the living room, impervious to the way your hands claw at his back. “It’s a perfect night for the hot tub.”

“I didn’t bring a fucking bikini,” you sputter, feet kicking softly in the air. “Put me down.”

“That’s okay,” he reassures you as his free hand easily slides the back door open and he takes you over the threshold. “Tae and Jimin won’t be back for a while. It’s just us.”

Tae and Jimin have also already seen you naked… probably dozens of times at this point, if Jungkook had to estimate, but he doesn’t mention that part. Not when he’s trying to get his girl back.

Instead he crosses the yard to set you down on the hot tub deck, your legs dangling over the side, and makes quick work of stripping out of his jeans and boxers, half-hard cock hanging heavy between his legs. He hopes it might give you some incentive to stay a little longer.

When he turns back to face you, your bottom lip is jutting out in a bratty little pout as your feet swing aimlessly off the deck. It makes him want to fucking ruin you.

Jungkook steps forward to close the distance, thumb running down your mouth to pet over your lip. “Put this back in your mouth and take your top off, jagi.” His voice is low, his mouth ghosting over yours. 

Your bare foot knocks into his shin, but it only hurts a little. “Make me.”

He can’t help but smirk at your attitude. It’s cute. He likes you feisty. “That’s a lot of sass for someone who was just screaming my name.”

You smack a hand against his chest with a play-scowl. “Shut up.”

He sweeps your arms behind your back before you can do it again, easily enclosing both of your wrists in one of his hands. “Why are you always so mean to me, huh?”

“Oh, I’m mean?” You look like you’re going to say more, but he pushes your crop top up with his free hand and watches the way it makes you shiver, your nipples tightening in the cool night air.

“You are,” Jungkook says softly. “And I’m just trying to love you.”

The same hand cups one of your breasts, and he ducks down to suck the stiff peak of it into his mouth, enjoying the airy little moan he coaxes out of you and the way you arch up into him. His grip on your wrists doesn’t falter as he pulls off, switching to roll your other nipple under the pad of his thumb.

“You should get these pierced,” he remarks, gaze shifting between your tits as he imagines silver barbells studded through the buds of them. “I’ll get one too. We can go together. Next summer.” His eyes find yours in time to watch your expression soften, just barely. It’s enough.

“Yeah, sure,” you deadpan, wiggling a little in his grasp. “Until you decide to stick your dick in some strange and fuck everything up again.”

Jungkook sighs. You’re fucking relentless. “I don’t want to talk about that. Can’t it just be us?”

Your reaction isn’t what he expects: he’s surprised to see the fight go out of you, to see how defeated you look as you lean in and press your forehead against his chest. Even your wrists go slack in his hand, and he releases his grip.

“That’s what I’m saying, Kookie,” you murmur. “That’s all I want.”

Jungkook’s fingers sweep under the line of your jaw. “I know.”

He tilts your head up for a kiss, and your hands come to cup his face, as if to pull him closer— to hold him in place so he can’t run away.

It’s the way it always is: he’s not going to promise he’ll change, and he knows you’re not dumb enough to ask him to. He can’t be anything but what he is, but he can hope you’ll love him anyway.

Your thumb strokes over Jungkook’s cheek as he pulls back, and he smiles a little. “Will you please get in the hot tub?”

Jungkook settles into the water first, sighing dramatically loud at the welcome warmth, and you giggle as you peel your top off before following after. When you slip in politely across from him, he grabs you by the ankle with a growl, and you don’t fight as he pulls you close again.

His hands guide your thighs apart to straddle him, so your knees rest on either side of the ledge he’s seated on. Between the heat of the water and your body on top of him, he’s dizzyingly hard in seconds.

The two of you make out like teenagers, more tongue than anything else, doing your best to hump and grind against each other despite the water slightly inhibiting your motions. Jungkook can’t stop touching your tits, obsessed with the weight of them in his hands. His fingers pinch and tug at your nipples to make you whine into his open mouth again and again, and his cock twitches in response every time.

“K-Kookie,” you finally manage to groan, nails dragging down his back as he presses sloppy kisses, all tongue and teeth, to the slope of your neck. “Need it, please. Your cock.”

His mouth finds yours again, and he bites down on your bottom lip with a smile before pulling back to answer. “You’ll get it, jagi. Wanna try something first.”

You whine a little and he gives a teasing pinch to your inner thigh, shifting you off his lap so he can stand up.

“Come here.”

Jungkook’s hands slide to your waist when you get to your feet, and the added weightlessness from the water makes it even easier for him to move you where he wants you. He guides you to spin so your back is flush with his chest, then encourages you to kneel on the ledge again, pushing your legs further apart.

“Can you stay like this for me?” He murmurs in your ear. You look up at him over your shoulder with wide, shining eyes, reflecting back the blue glow of the mood lights filtered through the water, and you nod.

As he ducks down to kiss you, Jungkook’s hand fumbles blindly against the edge of the tub until he finds the button he’s looking for. When he presses it once, the jets roar to life, including the one positioned right between your spread thighs.

You gasp into his mouth, and Jungkook wraps his arms tight around you to keep you in place, letting you collapse back into him as the jet pulses onto your pussy. “Oh my god, oh fuck, Kookie.”

“Feels good?” He murmurs in your ear, and you can only whimper and nod, hips circling against the stream of water, stimulated past the point of coherency. Your eyes practically roll back in your head. “Yeah, you look good like this.”

Jungkook can’t help himself now— his cock aches from lack of attention, and he starts to grind into you from behind, rutting himself against the small of your back, the curve of your ass. His hands grab at the soft skin of your thighs for leverage, and he can feel the way you’re shaking, already close, your breathing going ragged.

“K-Kookie—” you whimper. “I’m— fuck, g-gonna—”

“Want you to come for me,” he groans, tongue darting out to trace the shell of your ear. “Come for me like this so I can fuck another one out of you.”

Your arms scramble back behind you for something to keep you grounded, nails scratching and digging into Jungkook’s shoulders as your orgasm starts to crest.

He keeps rocking his hips into you, which only serves to move you closer to the jet and make the pressure that much stronger. You’re moaning loud enough for the neighbors to hear, and Jungkook has to grip your hips to keep them still as you come fast and hard, shaking apart in his arms.

“That’s it, that’s it.” Jungkook talks you through it, petting broad strokes down your thighs that make you jolt under his touch. “How was that, jagiya?”

“Fuuuuuck.” Your answer is a soft whine, and he can feel the aftershocks still rolling through your body. You shift to pull your thighs together, shivering all-over, and Jungkook releases his grip on them, hands moving up to squeeze at your tits while you recover. He can feel the way your heart is racing beneath his palm.

Your eyes slowly blink open, heavy-lidded, and you start to untangle your arms from around Jungkook’s shoulders. His back stings a little— he’s sure he’ll have pretty pink scratch marks to remember you by.

He presses a kiss to your temple, chaste in spite of how fucking hard and horny he is. “Love you. Stand up for me?”

Your legs are still shaking, so Jungkook helps haul you to your feet. Taehyung is always telling him he shouldn’t actually be penetrating girls in the water, something about vaginal health, so he has you bend at the waist to lean over the edge of the hot tub. The arch in your back when you press your ass up towards him makes his cock start to leak against his stomach.

Your head lolls forward to drop down on your forearms, and he laughs a little at how fucked out you already are as he gives your ass a firm slap. “Stay just like that. Face down ass up.”

You wait patiently as he climbs out of the water to search the deck. It only takes a few seconds for him to spot what he’s looking for: the bottle of lube Jimin’s always leaving out “just in case”. Jungkook makes a mental note to buy him a thank-you shot.

“God damn,” he murmurs appreciatively when he returns to you, rubbing three fingers slicked in thick silicone lube along your puffed-up slit before pushing them into the velvet heat of your pussy. “Wanna come in you so bad.”

“Please, Kookie,” you whimper.

Jungkook withdraws his hand to squirt more lube into his palm and fist it over his length, hissing a little at the sensation and the squelching noise his hand makes when he fucks into it. Tossing the bottle over the edge, his hands come to frame your hips, and he can’t help but moan as he starts to grind the head of his dick against your folds. “Fuck.”

You push your hips back on him, all wrecked and needy, your voice wrung-out. “Fuck me, Kookie, please— wanna take your cock, wanna feel it.”

It’s so hot when you beg for him. With another soft noise, Jungkook lines himself up to your entrance and gives you what you need: the whole of his thick cock sliding into your grip-tight pussy, slow for the delicious stretch of it, so you can feel every inch until he’s pressed in to the hilt.

It feels the way it always does. You were made to fit together.

You whine into the crook of your elbow, your walls already fluttering, split open and filled up and so sensitive. Jungkook leans forward, hands bracing the edge of the tub on either side of you, until his chest is flush with your back and the tip of his cock presses into your g-spot.

“Oh shit, right there, Kookie,” you gasp, like he doesn’t already know.

Jungkook grunts, nipping at the skin of your shoulder, and he starts to grind his hips against you, rubbing his cock into your g-spot over and over, until your legs threaten to give out. 

Your pussy feels so good, the little moans you’re making in time with his motions are so pretty, it’s like he can’t get enough of you. He brings a hand up to run over every inch of your skin he can reach, all of it smooth and gorgeous under his fingertips— he really can’t stop touching you. 

Maybe those bumps he did back at the bar were molly, he thinks absentmindedly.

“So fucking sexy,” he groans as he strokes a little harder, hips rolling fluidly. “So fucking beautiful.”

“F-fuck, Kookie,” you whimper, pushing your ass back to meet his thrusts, and you let out a choked moan when he starts to pound more firmly in response. “Ah, fuck— don’t fucking stop, oh god—”

Jungkook hooks his arm across your chest, and his hand gripped tight to your shoulder gives him more leverage to hit deeper. Being squeezed so close by your walls is nearly overwhelming, your pussy all hot and wet inside, it’s like he can barely fit. “God, you’re so fucking tight, jagi.”

“F-feels so guh— good, nnh,” you can hardly get the words out, and Jungkook can feel the way your whole body is starting to shake.

He can’t stop himself now, not when it’s this good. “Missed you so much, jagiya. Wanna marry you, wanna put a baby in you.” His cock twitches hard, enough that you whimper a little, and he knows he’s not going to last much longer.

“Come with me, jagi,” he grunts. “I want to feel you come again.”

“C-can’t,” you gasp, but he knows you can, can tell by the way you’re gripping around him that you’re already close.

The clapping of skin on skin echoes out as Jungkook fucks deliberately into your g-spot, no longer holding back, and you cling to the edge of the tub for dear life as your muscles start to contract. “Oh fuck, Kookie, fuck, fuck, I’m coming, I—”

With a loud cry, you collapse forward, knees nearly buckling as your orgasm hits you. Jungkook is helpless to the way your pussy pulses around him, like it was made to milk his cock. He tips his head back with a throaty groan as he comes with you, comes for what feels like an eternity, thick white ropes spilling into your cunt with every dick-twitch of his orgasm.

“Oh my god,” he groans, working the last of it out with a few shallow strokes, his breathing harsh and ragged. “So fucking good.”

You whimper softly with your head dropped down into your arms, your pussy still shuddering around him.

Jungkook squeezes at the curve of your ass as he pulls out with a hiss of oversensitivity. Deciding not to bother with the mess running down your thighs, he takes a second to catch his breath, then climbs over the edge of the hot tub, wiping absentmindedly at the beads of sweat dotting his temples.

You’re clearly too fucked out to walk now, so he scoops you up to carry you across the deck and back inside through the open sliding door, bridal-style this time, cradled in his arms. He smiles at the way you’re still trembling a little, your face now buried in his chest.

He deposits you onto the couch, then stretches out next to you to prop up on one arm, admiring how your hair fans out beneath you as you curl into him with a small sigh.

It takes you a while to come to, lashes fluttering prettily over your cheeks, and when your eyes finally blink open, you sit up rather abruptly.

Jungkook brings a hand to your low back to rub gentle circles. “Hi, jagi.”

There’s a look on your face, like you’ve just realized where you are.

“Fuck, I should go,” you murmur, looking around until your gaze lands on your purse. You lean over to retrieve it and dig through the contents until you finally find your phone and slide it open. “My roommate is gonna figure it out if I don’t come back, and she’ll fucking kill me.”

“Stay with me,” Jungkook says softly.

“No, Jungkook,” you snap, and he can tell by the way you’ve dropped the nickname that he’s lost you for the night. “I shouldn’t have even fucking come here.”

He should probably take this more seriously, but he can’t help his instinctive reaction, or the smirk that pulls up the corner of his mouth. “But you did come. Four times, if my memory is correct.”

“Fuck off,” you grunt, already up and starting to pull on your clothes that are scattered across the floor of the living room. You briefly disappear outside to retrieve your shirt.

“Does this mean we’re not back together?” Jungkook tries when you slip in the door again.

You shoot him a look he’s all-too-familiar with. “Not at all.”

“Will you at least unblock me on Facebook?” He asks sweetly, and it’s a joke, but he can see from the way you roll your eyes that you’re clearly too pissed off to have any more fun tonight.

“Facebook?! That’s seriously what you care about right now?! You are so fucking shallow, Jungkook.” You grab your purse in a huff and storm off down the hallway.

Jungkook knows he should get up and fight for you, at the very least stop being horizontal on the couch— but honestly, he’s fucking tired. That’s the thing about your hot and cold shit: he knows you’ll be back eventually, whether he makes any effort right now or not. And it’s so much easier not to.

So he says nothing, hands folded behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling, and waits until he finally hears the front door slam behind you.

Whatever, he thinks to himself with a heavy exhale.

After a minute, he gets up and heads into the bathroom, turning the shower on extra-hot. It’s still early. He can rinse off, get dressed, go see what Tae and Jimin are up to. Maybe he can jump on a grenade for one of them and take his mind off things for a bit.

He unlocks his iPod, docked on the speaker he keeps on the bathroom shelf— can’t shower without a good playlist— and spins the wheel until he gets to one of his favorites, simply titled fuck bitches. The opening 808s of Kanye West kick on like a heartbeat as Jungkook steps under the spray of the shower-head.

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts collab #jeju shore

[academiareid]

Baking With Spencer Reid

This is based on my Spencer Reid Boyfriend Headcanons Gn!reader, lots of fluff (images don't indicate what reader looks like) Warnings - lowkey implied smut but not expanded upon This is my first actual fic so I apologies if it's not great, I did my best!

You were in the kitchen setting up all your things to start baking cookies, Spencer who was sitting reading on the couch noticed you running around trying to collect all your things together.

A smile forms on his face as his plan sets in motion in his mind, he waits for you to start the process before he gets up to join you.

Walking into the kitchen, he wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head in the crook of your neck

"can I help baby?" he says as he lays kisses all over your cheek and neck

"do you really want to help or are you trying to disturb my baking process?" you say looking at him with an eyebrow raised

Spencer puts on a fake shocked expression "I don't know what you're talking about y/n/n, I'm actually interested in learning how to make your delicious cookies" he says and smiles innocently

"okay fine, I'm measuring out the ingredients right now so can you please sift the flour into the bowl?" you ask him, satisfied with his answer to just want to help you out.

Spencer smirks to himself and starts sifting flour into the bowl you gave him, he's making a mess with his sweater getting covered in flour and the countertop too

"omg Spencer you're making such a mess" you say as you giggle

"I am not making a mess, what are you talking about?" he says acting confused

You just give him a knowing look like 'yeah okay sure, you don't know'.

Then he bumps into you and starts 'accidentally' sifting the flour fully out of the bowl onto the countertop

"Spencer! you're wasting the flour and eggs!" you shriek as he made you drop the eggs you were holding when he bumped your waist

"oops, sorry baby" he says with a laugh

Then it happens, he just throws the flour onto your top and fakes a shocked expression when you say "oh my god Spencer you said you wanted to help!" with your brows furrowed and arms in the air, he can tell you're ready to get back at him but he keeps going.

He takes more flour and throws it on your hair as he says "what do you mean? am I not helping? is this not how you bake cookies?" his eyebrows furrowed but there's a smirk on his face

"you're gonna regret this" you say pointing to him with your finger, a smile on your face and a tilt of your head, a bright idea popping up in your mind.

You immediately distract him by throwing flour in his face, then when he's trying to wipe it off you quickly grab two of the eggs and get ready to run for him.

He eventually sees what you're planning, he backs up and says in a high pitched voice "don't you dare! not the eggs! I just showered this morning!"

"that's too bad Spence" you say with a laugh as you start running for him

You're chasing him around the apartment, jumping over the couch, running around in circles with the eggs in your hand. Eventually you launch yourself at him, jumping on his back wrapping your legs around his waist and you smash both of the eggs on top of his head and you start laughing as you jump off to look at him.

"Y/N!" he practically shrieks, his head down unsure what to do with the egg dripping off him

You start laughing and he can't help but smile as he hears your giggles, it was his main goal when he started this play fight, to hear your laugh and see your smile.

Eventually he lifts his head and tries to wipe off the egg, he smirks and runs for you, lifting you up so you're bent over his shoulder and running towards the kitchen.

"Spence, NO!" you scream, hitting his back and trying but failing to grab onto any furniture around you to stop him as you realise what he's about to do. He grabs one of the eggs, sets you down and quickly smashes it on your head, then he starts throwing flour over your head to get you covered.

You take a deep breath in, in shock of what's just happened, all you can hear is him laughing and you can't help but start laughing with him.

"you're not getting anymore of my delicious cookies Spencer Reid" you say through giggles as you try and wipe the mess off of you

He looks at you with a pout and hair still also covered in egg, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in to kiss you.

Pulling away but your faces still close enough for lips to touch, he says "if I help you clean up, pinkie promise to never mess with your baking again and buy your favourite takeout for dinner tonight, will you let me still have your perfect, delicious cookies?"

You pretend to think for a moment, you know you can't resist his offers. With the tilt of your head and a smile you say "if you throw in a massage with that then yes, I'll let you still have them"

"a massage after dinner it is then my love" he says smiling and kissing you again, any chance to touch you, kiss you, get you naked, he'll take without complaint.

Eventually you both clean everything up, he insists on showering with you to just 'help you get clean' but more than that always ends up happening because he just can't resist you and you just can't resist him.

You gave up on baking, deciding to tackle that tomorrow when he's away at work. He orders your favourite food and you cuddle up on the couch to eat, eventually ending up in the bedroom where he gives you the best massage with lots of kisses to go with it. You both cuddle up in bed together afterwards and you fall asleep in his arms.

This ended up being longer than I thought it would be but I hope you enjoy!♡

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid moodboard #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #cm #academiareidwrites

[everythingne]

out of the woods - ls2 [2]

With a home race that couldn't go better, Dhanishka feels the confidence to let loose. But, Bahrain's post race celebration brings up some confusing feelings Dhanishka definitely won't handle the best. Charles plays the disappointed older brother role very well, Daniel is a bit of an enabler as is Lando, who also wins a bet with McLaren. Also, the FIA makes a weird call.

logan sargeant x ferrari!ex!oc

fc: iffat marash (and other pinterest girlies)

warnings/notes: mentions of past car accidents, drunkeness, a makeout scene, tbh if logan looked at me the way i describe here i would fold oops. conflicting feelings here for miss dubey

(part one) (part three)

Bahrain hasn't even started, my home race hasn't even started, and I already feel like I'm about to snap. I knew coming into this race there was a lot of pressure on me to do well, not to mention how basically everyone I knew and their fucking mother was here, but from Ferrari alone. This was the season they planned to solidify Charles and I next to Red Bull. They'd been secretive about their car, their plans, and whatever, just to hopefully psyche out the other teams.

Personally, I just wanted to win for myself, but thats a whole other story.

When I walk in the race, cameras are on me faster than I can say my name, thousands of eyes watching the only rookie this season as she makes her way into her paddock. Inside the paddock is no better, and the garage can't even be a safe haven as reporters walking the pit lane try to get video of me and Charles greeting eachother.

He's like a bright red beacon of safety admist the chaos of this morning. He hands me a coffee, says it's supposed to be some sort of weird chai thing. It tastes... like slightly more bitter and heavily espresso filled chai. But I drink it anyway because lord knows I need the energy.

"You look stressed, is it the race?" Charles asks after our debriefing, when I'm working on reaction times. I keep working at whacking the buttons, eyes trained on the center as I also work my periphery.

"I think so." I say, uninterested, and Charles purposefully messes up the game so I look at him with a loud exclamation. He grins, and I get now why Arthur had punched Charles in the arm as a greeting once. He looks like a cat that knows it's done something wrong, but smugly doesn't care. Like my aunt's big brown cat named Porsche.

They'd bought her a 'Porsche' for her birthday that year. Haha.

"What's it actually?" Charles asks when I catch my breath a little, taking a big gulp of water and then sipping on the coffee-chai-thing.

"I talked to Logan after we left the resturant and I can't stop thinking about it." I set down the cup and go to return to the game before Charles grabs my wrist and pulls me back.

"Do you wanna talk about it before the race? Maybe get it out of your system so it doesn't affect you while driving?"

"You're talking like you speak from experience."

"Maybe I do." He hums and I huff through my nose, before grabbing both of my drinks when he nods his head back to his drivers room. Probably the only place here we could get privacy. He pops me down on his couch and sits next to me, motioning for me to talk.

I stammer a bit before sighing, “Logan still thinks it’s my fault. He still thinks I had something to do with the accident. And I’m a fucking idiot because I still love him.”

Charles’ eyes widen as I lean forward and huff, rubbing my forehead as I keep talking, “I still love him after three years. And he doesn’t love me back and that hurts but I can’t do anything about it.”

"you still love him?" He asks and I nod, and then hitch forward with a sharp gasp. It's like saying the words out loud have thrown every possible emotion in my face. Anger at him for breaking up, regret for not chasing him, a deep sorrow for the things we'd lost. He had been my first love, something so innocent. I didn't know how I was supposed to live without him.

"I do," I whisper through the lump in my throat, "I love him, but I can't even look at him without feeling sick."

For once with all the issues I've come to tell Charles about, this is one that stumps him. But he wraps an arm around me, pulling him to his side as he rubs his hand along my back and I curl into his touch. I don't exactly cry, but I more so just hyperventilate.

And it takes maybe ten minutes for me to calm down fully and when I do, Charles squeezes my hands.

"No matter what happens, I've got you." He says softly, "just like at dinner, I've got you."

I nod and he hands me a tissue, I fix up my makeup and stand, letting him escort me back out to the garage so we can go get out fireproofs and race suits.

The sun is long set when we start the race, the warm up lap making my nerves spark as my fingers twitch on the steering wheel. I knew Bahrain's track like the backs of my hands, I knew exactly what to expect and what to do and where to go. Starting p8 wasn't terrible, I would've preferred to be higher but I'll take what I can get. In front of me is Yuki, Carlos, Daniel, Charles, Oscar, Lando, and Max. With Logan directly behind me and Alex behind him.

I'm not super worried about Alex, but Logan had a pretty similar driving style to me so I worry about him coming and overtaking me. I know I can overtake Yuki, Carlos, and Daniel if I give myself time and risk going wide when it comes to Carlos, but Lando, Oscar and Max will be my biggest competition. Though I'm not sure about Charles, I guess it depends on what we're told on the radio.

Within the first five laps, I've gotten past Yuki and Carlos, but Daniel's giving me a run for my money. Charles even tries helping, but it's no use, and I take my place behind Daniel for the foreseeable future. I don't mind it, holding P6 at the beginning isn't the worst scenario. I just have to wait until people starting going in for tire changes and such, hopefully I'll be able to use that to get around.

Eventually, Daniel understeers and it gives me a perfect opportunity to whip around him and I solidify myself in P5. Oscar's ahead of me, Lando ahead of him, Charles in P2 and then Max holds P1. Charles is fighting him for it and I'm impressed with how we're doing so far.

At some point Logan comes up behind me, I'm only alerted via the radio for half a second before I see him try and push me to the edge of the track. I speed up, purposefully oversteering the turn to knock him off my back.

By the end of the race, I find myself P3 by a goddamn thread. Lando having wing damage making it easier for me to snag around him in one of the last turns. Charles isn't far ahead of me, and Max holds his P1 usual. Lando's P4, Oscar P5, and Logan P6. Everyone else is pretty much scrambled, almost all the racers overtaking someone multiple times throughout the race.

I can't really feel anything under the thrum of my excitement, Charles coming up behind me and lifting me off the ground in celebration as Max laughs from a distance. We're making our way to the stage for the podium, helmets off and a hat secured over my head to block out the sun and my post-race helmet hair.

"Lets go! 'Ishka!" Charles jumps and I laugh, whacking him on the head as he hoists me in the air.

"Congrats, kid." Max grabs the brim of my hat and yanks it down, making me yelp in surprise as Charles sets me down. I fix the brim of my hat while Charles laughs, trying to help me yank down Max's hat too before I'm called to walk up on stage.

The roar of the audience is deafening, the announcement a warble as I take the trophy with a thank you and shook the hand of the woman who gave it to me. I lift it above my head, the noise only growing, and I can't help the satisfied shout that leaves my throat in celebration.

Dipping back into the paddock, I see Logan being ushered away from me by Alex. Even though the sight of him makes my throat close and stomach drop, I try to keep my head up. I try to not let it affect me, but I know it does.

I told Logan the truth. I let him him go because he wanted to go. Nothing Logan did now would change the way my heart ached for him. In F2 I learned quickly to shove my emotions down and never let them escape me, and when I wasn't in the safety of Charles' company, I felt like I had fallen back into that same routine again.

Cold, sharper than a tack, everything rolled right off. I bit my tongue when necessary, fought back only when provoked.

It was nothing like how I had been before Trident. That much was known. But I wasn't about to be used again. Never again.

A few hours later, we're at the hotel Charles is staying in, him laying face first on his bed while I fix up my makeup in a mirror for the upteenth time. Another night out is in order to celebrate the season kickoff, Max inviting Charles and I along with him, Daniel, and Carlos to some sort club I've been to a hundred times already.

Once I've used Charles' bathroom to change into my clothes for the night, I'm wrapping a large Ferrari jacket around myself to be a bit more 'presentable' until we get to the club. I lean into the mirror to check and secure all my jewlery before I make my way out of the bathroom.

Charles looks up from where he's sitting in one of the chairs in the hotel room, his eyes doing a quick once over before he grins and stands up. He's wearing some jeans and a loose black button-up, a gold necklace swinging before settling against his collarbones as he makes his way to my side.

"Revenge dress?" He muses to me with a smirk and I whack his arm with a loud laugh, shaking my head as I walk to grab my purse off the coffee table.

"It wasn't intended to be, but sure." I grin as I take a sip from my wine glass on the table, eyeing the now empty bottle we were using to loosely pregame the night, "Glad to see you've gotten a bit of fashion advice, the polo looks good. If Max is wearing anything Red Bull I'll choke him out."

"I'll help you." Charles laughed and hands me his wallet. I pop it in my purse without thinking, I know it's so I don't run off without him, and I pretend to be annoyed. But the action is sweet.

"We have a little private room with some of the other drivers," Charles grabs our phones off the charges and hands me mine as he pockets his, fixes his hair in some sort of habit, and then looks back to me as he grabs the handle of the door, "So, you can leave your stuff there until we leave."

"Sounds good to me." I follow him out the door, my heels clicking on the tile on the hallway as we move down to where the carpet starts. Charles turns back to me as he walks, watching me dig out my car keys. When I lift my eyes to meet him he scratches his jaw and then speaks.

"Logan's gonna be there. That's fine with you?" Charles asks. I had told him in the garage this morning about my argument with Logan. It had been eating at me, and Charles being ever the observant picked up on my shift in attitude before I did.

"I probably won't even see him, this club is always packed." I reason, even with the private room. I'd spend most of my time at the bar. If I was with my friends, also the dancefloor, but I had a suspicion I wouldn't be doing much dancing tonight.

"You sure?" Charles holds the elevator door open for me, letting me step in and press the button for the lobby. I nod, adjusting my outfit a little bit as I look over at him.

"It's fine, I'm over it." I shrug, looking at myself in the mirrored doors of the elevator and fixing up my hair loosely. I can feel the elevator slowly start to lower and I grin at myself.

Maybe it was the confidence from my win, but I looked good tonight.

"You cried over him this morning and now you're saying you're over it?" Charles hums, thinking back clearly to me frustrated for no reason this morning and his intervention with led to me half-hyperventilating into his chest.

"I got P3 in my first F1 race, Charles. No one can touch me. I'm hot, sexy, and breaking the Ferrari curse." I playfully do a little z-snap that has Charles chuckling as the doors open to the lobby and he brings me out to an awaiting car. This was something else I would never get used to, how we all just kinda casually had luxury vehicles. Now, my parents were well off, my father a CEO and my mother a tailor, and they had plenty of money to give to me and my sister if we needed it. But it hadn't always been that way. So the Ferrari just idling outside the hotel, clearly brought over by Ferrari for Charles and I to drive like once this whole weekend is a shock to me.

He lets me in the back, then gets in the passengers, instructing the driver on where to go while I lean back with a content sigh and watch the streetlights pass.

dhanishkadubey made a new post!

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, charlesleclerc, and 254k others...

dhanishkadubey: kicking off the start of a wonderful szn. much love to the tifosi 🏎️ ❤️ (📷: @ charlesleclerc)

charlesleclerc: ❤️

danielricciardo: this bitch drinks fireball like water.

dhanishkadubey: ur rlly exposing me like this danny :(?

user1: congrats on p3!!!

oscarpiastri: go dhanishka go !!

user2: tensions rising in the loscar fandom tn

maxverstappen: great start to your rookie year, dhanishka :)

anyadubey: YAAA THATS MY SEXY SISTER!!!

user3: actually in love w her.

When we arrive at the club, the place is already going hard. Early 2000s music pulses from various speakers, the lights flashing to the beat of who I think is Britney Spears mixed with that one song from Saltburn. It's Daniel who greets us in the upstairs room, showing me where to leave my bag and jacket while Charles is escorted off to the side by Pierre and Max. I spot Esteban and Lance chatting idly with Magnussen and some other racers. It's odd combinations tonight, as the grouping strays from the normal clumps of friends, but it means I find myself engrossed in a conversation with Alex and George maybe thirty minutes after getting inside.

"I seriously thought you were gonna be much meaner!" George shouts over the pulsing music and I laugh as he hands me my drink from the bartender. I thank him softly and take a big sip, nodding at the sour taste im expecting from the cocktail.

Catching George's eye, I tease, "Do you want me to be?"

"God no," George waves a hand in my direction with a soft laugh, something playful and almost childlike gleaming in his eyes as he tilts his head, "Carmen's plenty mean to me."

"Oh stop!" Alex scoffs, whacking George's arm, "As if Carmen's little jabs equate to Lily's!"

"Didn't you literally call Lily the doll from Squid Game?" I ask, then pop my straw in my mouth and take a slow sip. Alex freezes as if he's been caught red handed, and George suppresses a giggle.

"Look..." Alex holds up a hand in defense but George and I are laughing too hard to really hear whatever excuse he uses to defend his actions.

"Okay, can I ask you a question, Dhanishka?" Alex asks after we've calmed down, leaning forward on the bar as I settle in my seat with George on my other side. I nod and he swallows and I can see him roll the question through his head. He takes a sip of his drink, swallows, and turns to ask, "If you wanna answer, what exactly happened with you and Logan? 'Cause he's been moping since you got announced to be racing with Ferrari and I might lose my mind if he doesn't knock it off."

"Oh god," I say into my midori sour, taking the bitter drink into my mouth and swallowing it and setting my hand over the cup. George leans over to look, head slightly tilted like a puppy as Alex quickly speaks up.

"If you don't wanna say anything, it's fine, but--"

"--No, no. It's fine Alex," I wave a hand, "uhm, Logan and I started dating when we were racing in Renault, but we'd been kinda... I guess flirty since the end of our formative years and into like secondary school. We were... I was fifteen, so he was seventeen or sixteen at the time? It was just like... puppy love, y'know? Pure and innocent, nothing too serious.

"And, we were both in love and it was nice. It really was nice. But, when that crash happened with Trident, I think something snapped in him. I... the breakup... it came from nowhere. I don't know if it was because he was mad, thinking I had something to do with it, or if he just... didn't know what to do and needed control after Trident took that P2 position from him? I don't know. We hadn't spoken since that day until last night."

"You talked to him last night?" Alex asks with slightly wide eyes and I nod, taking another sip of my drink.

"We argued about it last night while waiting to leave." I sigh, rolling my shoulders as I pop the straw between my lips and take a long slow sip, then speak, "He thought I had something to do with the crash, I told him I didn't, he asked me why I let him leave--which, Alex, feel free to tell him I think that's a dumb fucking question. I wasn't gonna force him to stay if he was unhappy, or if he didn't wanna date anymore. I'm not a monster."

"Wait, wait," George waves a hand to grab my attention and I turn to him with a soft hum, "So is he mad at you?"

"I don't know," I finish off my drink, noticing both George and Alex are not even halfway down their respective drinks, "I can't tell with him. I would completely understand if he was furious about everything, but none of it was my fault. I didn't even know Trident planned to crash into him!"

"I'm gonna try talking to him," Alex looks over at someone to the right of me and I don't have to look to know he means Logan's there. I nod, sip my drink, and excuse myself to go back to the room. George escorts me up there, to make sure I'm fine, and then leaves me to Daniel who grins.

"You've had something to drink, right?" He asks and I nod, but happily join him and Lando at the bar for shots of various alcohols. And I end up drinking a few glasses of soju back to back with Max at one point, introducing him and Checo to different flavors while Daniel laughs at Max's shock over how everything just tastes like a slightly sour juice. I'm finishing my fourth glass of soju when I start to feel woozy. Taking a water from the bartender, I count the drinks I've had in my head and roughly equate them to about a handle of alcohol.

Lando orders a final round of shots for us, Fireball burning down my throat.

"Danny!" I call to the Australian, who turns in a full circle before realizing wher eI am. He nods and steps closer so I don't have to shout.

"The bathrooms right there," I point to a hallway and Daniel nods, "Can you grab my stuff and I'll meet you guys by the door?"

"Yeah, just be quick! Text me if you need anything." He squeezes my wrist and I nod, slipping away and down the stairs that lead tot he dark bathrooms. Once I'm done, I step out into the hall looking down at my phone when I slip on water pooled by the door. Or what I hope is water.

A hand juts out, catching me by the waist and tugging me forward so I'm no longer falling backwards. The firm hand is familiar, and when I glance up to thank the man who caught me I make eye contact with Logan. I resist the urge to make some rude comment and thank him softly instead.

"Are you gonna tell everyone about us dating?" He asks instead and I scoff.

"Are you gonna start a fight every time I see you?" I rebuke, and then shrug, "Alex and George asked. And if I said no, they could just look it up. I didn't say any apecifics, just the bulk."

Logan looks a little relieved at that, almost like he was nervous about their reactions if they knew every little thing that we'd done. Truth be told, puppy love was the best way to describe us back then. Stolen chaste kisses, giddy smiles when holding hands, little meaningful gifts, late night texts that led to sleepy smiles the next day. I was sure he'd had something more... mature after he'd broken it off. I had rationalized in my head that was why he broke it off. I'd never know the real reason, I wasn't going to ask.

"You..." Logan finally lets go of my waist, and in the low light I see his eyes sweep over me with a look I want to decipher. I've lost the key to his brain, and I know I won't be finding it any time soon.

"You look as beautiful as the day I left you, more so now... but," He laughs, shaking his head, "Sorry, I had too much to drink. I shouldn't."

"You shouldn't." I agree, but a tiny smile curls at my lips, "But thank you."

Logan looks at me for a long moment and I return the gaze, our eyes spelling out stories of his hands carding through my hair, laying on a blanket on the roof of his London apartment and listening to music in shared earbuds, us cheering on Oscar when he'd asked Lily out and celebrating with him after.

He was so much of my past, and somehow I found that I wished he could fit into my future.

"Can I ask one thing?" Logan says, the music pulsing above us louder now, making his voice get swallowed by the music. I step closer to hear him as I nod, throat dry as trepidation rolls across my skin, his lips part, and it takes a second for him to ask, "Can we not fight? I don't think I can ever see you look angry at me again, I've been replaying our argument outside the restaurant for days now.

"I don't wanna leave our past behind us and move on," He continues when I gape at him, "I loved you back then, maybe I still do now or maybe its the fact I'm so drunk the world is spinning, but you were such a big piece of my life. I've known you since we were kids, Dhanishka I can't let go of you now that I've got you back."

His heart is being held out for me, hands shaking as he stares at me, and I just stare back. Just friends, I tell myself. That's all we'll be.

"You know," I start, and I can feel its my heart and blood alcohol content leading the conversation and not my brain, "I do think I still love you--or maybe its the fact I'm just as drunk as you are, if not worse. You made my life, you made me who I am, from the stupid jokes to the little kisses behind our garages, or sneaking into eachother drivers rooms to nap..."

I swallow my pride, "I won't let go of you this time."

He grins and on wobbly legs he takes me into a hug, I let his arms wrap around my waist, hands warm against my skin as I throw my arms around his neck. The stairs squeak behind us, and we step back, but I don't see anyone come down. When I turn back to him, I find he's still looking, and as the music shakes the walls and rolls into my skin, I find one of my hands cupping his jaw. His breath cuts short, lips parting as his tongue darts out.

It's so dumb how easily I fall back in love with Logan Sargeant.

He dips down before I can think to pull back, slotting his lips against mine, and I welcome it. His grip on me tightens as he tugs me back in, bunching fabric under his fingernails as he gasps when I nip his lip.

"We shouldn't do this." He gasps between a kiss he drives, only to be cut off by me stepping closer to keep our lips dancing. He turns us, pressing my shoulders to a wall, cornering me underneath him, and I bite back a whine in the back of my throat.

"We shouldn't," I agree, and gasp when he moves closer, his hands sliding down to guide my hips towards him as his knee knocks mine apart. He steps one foot between mine, leaning into me, and I can't help the whine he forces out of my lips this time. And when I see his satisfied grin, I can't help the tiny bashful smile that pokes at my own lips.

"You're an asshole." I breathe against his lips, the club pulses above us, footsteps creaking on the stairs, but in that moment we dont feel the pull of the crowd singing and dancing. His hands grip my waist through the thin fabric of my black dress, pulling me in, and I feel everything. His chest hits mine with his sharp breath in, our eyes finding each other and holding a gaze I feel as bitter as the tequila in my stomach.

"I know," He pulls me in by wrapping his arm around my waist, hand finding my jaw and tugging me impossibly closer. Our lips meet again, all heat and fervor and my hands find the back of his head, knocking our teeth when I tug him in after he breaks the kiss.

22R stains his lips and I see it on his teeth when he grins, memories flicker through my eyes. He tastes like expensive whiskey and rum, a hint of shitty bottled beer taps my tonsils when I swallow. He tastes like everything I should run from and yet, I crave more.

"Dhanishka!" Charles calls for me somewhere in the club, voice loud against the music, and I step back. Reaching out to grab my wrist, Logan pulls me in once more, his thumb runs along my lower lip, fixing the smudged lipstick in the dark, dingy bathroom hall. I don't know what to say, I don't know if this is a moment where I'm even supposed to say anything.

"Danny!" Daniel shouts, coming to the hall of the bathroom and I push Logan back into the men's room and slam the door shut before he can say anything.

"There you are!" Charles calls and I wave, turning to them.

"Sorry," I giggle, the warmth of the kiss on my face as I feel the ghosts of Logan's hands on my skin, "I think I had a little too much."

"So did Max," Daniel snorts, flicking on his phone flashlight so I can properly see the stairs as I make my way over to where they stand halfway down them. I hear the men's room door creak and turn back to catch Logan's eye as Charles grabs my wrist and carts me upstairs.

We share a tiny grin between us, charged by drunken decisions, it's our moment. No one else sees. Or if they do, they don't say a word But Charles' grip on my wrist tightens, and I have an odd feeling we might not have been as alone as we thought we were in that hallway.

taglist (thank you!)

@chasing-liberosis @justsomejess @struggling-with-delia

#f1 fanfic #f1 smau #formula one fanfic #formula one fic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #logan sargeant fic #logan sargeant fanfic #logan sargeant smau #ls2 fic #ls2 smau

[multiverse-imagines]

A request from SkyDragonGrandeeny of ao3!!

I've seen in the show that Vash has a lotta of scars, and he claims their symbols of his unrelenting mercy, even against enemies who try and kill him (thanks knives ya jerk). I also heard he doesn't like girls to see them, since he believes it would gross them out or they would run away at the site.

Since Vash is a adorable dork, I would love a fluff story when the reader discovers the scars, like maybe he took a shower like in the show and had no shirt on afterwards; but instead of any kind of disgust, reader is instead worried for Vash. Afterwards with reassurance he's fine, reader is becomes flustered/shy because Vash is a lot more ripped/stronk looking then expected. oh and yknow his shirts off oops. (That red coat hides how much muscle he has like oh lawd-)

A/N: I'll never get tired of writing for Vash's scars! It makes me love him even more 🥰

Just For You

"Why don't you grab your little boyfriend, and tell him dinner is ready?"

"S-sure, Granny!" Your face tinted red as you led yourself out of the dining room where you had just set the table for dinner, and up to Vash's room.

With a quick knock, you entered to see Vash standing in only a pair of sweatpants, prosthetic arm in hand, his body paused in the motion to put it back in place. A towel was draped around his neck.

"Vash, dinner is...O-Oh… S-sorry." Was all you could muster out. You wanted to just say dinner was ready and leave him be, but something froze your feet in place. You took in the sight of his eyes closing, and jamming the prosthetic arm into place. He rolled his shoulder and wiggled his fingers to recalibrate.

"I didn't think you'd get to see me without a shirt this early." His voice broke the silence. You'd only been traveling for seven months, and dating for one. How you had never seen him without a shirt in that time was beyond you, but he had told you his body wasn't worth seeing.

"Told you It's not pretty." He said as if he'd been reading your mind.

You had always thought he would be lanky, much like an old T-shirt left on a clothesline, but you didn't realize how right you were in a much different way.

An astonishing amount of scars riddled his body. Some long, some thick, some small lines, others appeared to be large patchy chunks that skin had grown back over time.

Stunned by the sheer amount of them, you hardly felt your body move to him, your hands nearly touching them, but stopping short. It was as if you were to touch him, he would crumble away.

"You can touch them, ya know." He softly whispered, which still caused you to visibly jump. Giving him a quick glance of eye contact, you began tracing along the large scar that disappeared over his shoulder.

You felt the ragged skin that bordered his prosthetic arm, and traced along the long thin scar that resided there. The metal grate covering his missing pectoral was cold to the touch, and still damp from his shower.

"This is what I get for not killing my opponents. I show them mercy, let them live their lives, and I take the damage." He maintained his whisper as your hands continued to explore his torso.

You wondered if he remembered the story behind each one, not that you would ever ask him to retell such traumatic events. How many were there in total? How many more would he obtain before someone got a lucky shot and killed him?

You made your way to see all of the scars on his back as well. There were so many more. Another grate under his right arm, two metal pieces like bolts in his side, a triangular metal plate on his scapula.

"You don't deserve that." Your eyes were plastered with sadness, not looking up at him, "I'm glad you don't kill, but… this. This is so much." You laced your arms around to his front, pressing your face into his back in a hug, "Do they hurt?"

"Only when it gets a little too cold out, or when I have nightmares of the injury. It's nothing compared to the phantom pains in my arm though…" he paused with a disgruntled hum, realizing that maybe he was opening up too much too soon. A pause between the two of you felt like a whole hour, but was merely a moment.

"Please stop letting yourself get hurt." You squeezed his waist, a slight tremble beginning to form within you, "You're just as important as all of those people you save, ya know? Especially…" to me, is what you couldn't say to him yet, "You can't save the world if you're dead, Angel." You recovered.

"M'not gonna die." You could practically hear the rolling of his eyes.

"Yeah, you're too stubborn for that." You gave his waist another squeeze, only to finally feel the muscles underneath. You took a step back, and took a second to see his rippling muscles beneath the battlefield of scars. His back was well defined, noting every curve of his body.

You didn't know how you never noticed how well defined his body was. He always wore baggy clothes, much like the gray sweatpants that were sitting a little too low for your little heart to handle.

You wondered if it was: 1) to throw people off, 2) because he was tall and no fitting medium fits a tall man like him, or 3) to be comfy and not so sweaty in the blistering heat. Whatever it was, you were beginning to enjoy that this was a show that only you had tickets to see right now.

"It's not that I'm stubborn." He turned around to face you once again, and you couldn't help but notice the little muscles under his ribs, and the sheer sculpture of his upper arms, "it's just that I've got someone to look after now, ya know?"

You were too absorbed in viewing his chiseled abs, and starting to wonder where that little V of his hips led to, when he lifted your chin to create eye contact, "So I'll do my best not to get hurt anymore. Just for you, Mayfly." He had this smirk on his face that had 'I caught you looking' written all over his face.

"Good. I'll hold you to it." Your face heated up instantly at his expression, he laughed

#trigun #vash the stampede #vash x reader #trigun brain rot

[sapphos-ode]

If you're taking prompts could you write a Larissa×Reader where Reader had set up a picnic date and everything is going good until there's a pop up rainstorm and they have to scramble for cover? Lots of cute fluffy things and cuddles to warm up with it please.

Rain

Larissa Weems x named reader, hope that’s okay, I’m not too fond of using y/n or other variations! Also I’m using the school holiday timings for the uk because idk how America’s school system works oop-

~

It was mid July, which meant Larissa had a lot more free time given the students where on holiday until early August which would commence the new academic year. Utilising this new found freedom you had set up a surprise for Larissa - despite her protests. She wasn’t too keen on not knowing everything. But you soothed her worries and told her it would be worth it.

You insisted on driving her minivan of a car, intent on making sure she had no responsibilities today - that woman certainly knows how to work herself to the bone. A trait you both loathe and admire about her, you wish she just took more time for herself every now and then.

Youth Written in Fire played on the radio as you drive along the tree lined road that connected Nevermore to Jericho. You take a turn onto a forest track a few miles short of Jericho - a little sharp and a little too fast for Larissa’s liking as she reached up to hold the handle. In your defence you’re not the best at driving stick, and Larissa insists on having a manual car. Something about learning in England and not wanting to adjust to an automatic.

“That really should’ve been second gear, darling,” Larissa murmurs softly. Eyes a little wide, surprised she survived but wary of the uneven road surface as you travel further into the forest.

“I am in second,” you chirp back.

“You’re in fourth,”

“Oh… oops,”

Larissa can only chuckle quietly at you.

Silence falls between the two of you, the radio as well as it changes song. You don’t recognise it but your lover certainly does as she starts to hum along. Your heart swells at this.

A few more songs pass until you pull up to passing place and kill the engine.

“Do I get to know why we’re in the middle of the forest now?”

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p’ and give her a sweet smile before getting out the car and heading to the boot.

“You’re killing me,” Larissa half jokes with a laugh as she closes the car door.

“Don’t be so dramatic! Or I’ll drive off and leave you here,”

“You wouldn’t- ”

“Oh I would,”

“Atikah! You little devil,”

You haul out a picnic basket and make your way around to your girlfriend. Reaching onto your tiptoes to plant a kiss on her cheek - which she all to happily leans into. Closing her eyes and savouring the action.

“Come on, I’m sure you’ve guessed what the plan is,” you motion to the basket, “I found a cute clearing the other day when I went for a walk!”

“Why were you this far into the woods on your own!?”

“I love picnic dates,” you pointedly ignore her question, “and going on one with you would make it perfect!”

You take her hand and drag her along a path worn down from countless others walking down it.

It only takes 10 minutes to reach the small glade - with the sun leaking through the gaps in the trees, leaving the vibrant grass dappled in brilliant light. It seemed almost angelic. The canopy created a small barrier and made it feel as if the world wasn’t so big.

“Wow…” Larissa all but breathed out. Her gaze set on the pockets of sky seen through the foliage.

You looked up at her with a look of pure content before coaxing her into the middle. With much regret you let go of her hand in order to open the hamper and lay out a picnic blanket.

“Sit,”

Larissa did. Wordlessly, still soaking in the atmosphere in awe. You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle. God she was adorable.

With her precocities you made quick work of laying out everything you had packed, an impressive spread resembling an English afternoon tea. Little sandwiches cut into perfect triangles, macarons in assorted colours, and scones - made by yourself - with jam and cream. A flask held hot water, and a box of herbal tea bags sat next to it.

“This is why I refused to make you lunch earlier. I wasn’t being cruel,” you teased, “by god I was not having you come here with me and have a full stomach!”

“Atikah, you shouldn’t have!” Larissa looked over all the food, “this must have taken forever, I would’ve helped,”

“I know you would sweetheart, but I wanted this to be a surprise. And also you deserve to be taken care of… you do so much for the school,” you muse in a hushed tone.

“Well, let’s not waste anymore time, I’m famished,” Larissa grinned at you, “ especially after being starved by a certain little rascal,”

You bump shoulders with her playfully before holding a sandwich up to her mouth, to which she takes a bite into. You spend the next half hour or so feeding each other and talking about everything and anything.

Once you both had your fill you bask in the sunlight, soaking up the warmth as you lay next to each other, hands intertwined. Larissa has her eyes closed, not asleep but simply enjoying the distant bird song and the rushing water of a nearby creek. You on the other hand can’t seem to tear your eyes from her. Larissa’s white blonde hair seems to glow in the light, the peach fuzz on her face seems to illuminate itself as well, casting a halo around her. All this created a wonderful contrast with that irresistible red lipstick she wears everyday and her dark lashes accentuated with her makeup.

In the quiet you take time to study her face, the way her lips are pulled into a relaxed smile, her laugh lines a little deeper, the crows feet that sit at the corner of her eyes. From this side you can see the small scar on her upper lip, a story she had told you near the start of your relationship. Her breaths are slow, your eyes travelled to her chest and watched as it rose and fell with each inhale.

“Have I ever told you that I love you, deeply?”

Larissa doesn’t open her eyes but she hums before replying in a languid fashion, “you have, many times darling,”

“Well then, let me tell you once more,” you scoot closer to her, nestling into her side and wrapping an arm over her torso, “I am deeply and madly in love with you, Ms. Larissa Weems,”

This time, she opens her eyes and turns in your embrace to face you, leaning in closer, “As am I Miss Atikah Karnstein,” she finishes her words by kissing you chastely on the lips. Neither of you can help but smile into it. Kissing her feels like home.

You both lay there, tangled in each other saying nothing yet your eyes have a conversation in your silence. And it is then that the heavens suddenly test open and with that comes the onslaught of rain. A complete flood comes crashing down on you and within milliseconds you’re both drenched before you can realise. So much for that protective canopy.

You whine, accompanied with a pout at the sudden change in weather. The forecast never mentioned rain.

“And it was going so well too!” You exclaimed, in dismay sitting up.

Larissa, being her usual self, was one step ahead of you and had gathered everything into the basket and shut the clasps on it.

“Come darling, before we both catch a cold!” She practically scoops you up onto your feet. Then hands you the hamper and ushering you off the blanket so she can hoist it over your heads as a makeshift shelter, “let’s make a run for it,”

And so you do. Both of you leg it through the forest feeling like children as you laugh about how it was just your luck the weather would talk a sour turn.

By the time you reach her car you’re both severely waterlogged. Your outer layers did very little to shield the rain and so they were chucked into the boot. Not that what you wore underneath was any more dry.

It’s a scramble getting into the car and starting the engine. Desperate to get the air condition on and turned up to the hottest setting, desperate for some heat. The rain had an icy edge to it. So much for the summer.

You started the engine and shot off like a madman, eager to get back to Nevermore. Where you could change into dry clothes. Larissa had a death grip on the dashboard and the small handle above the window the entire ride. Too scared to suggest you slow down incase she broke your concentration. When you reached the school she couldn’t help but say a prayer of thanks to whatever deity was up there.

~

Finally, once inside Larissa’s living quarters you both peel off your clothes and leave them in her bathroom sink. A problem you’ll deal with later. You opt to steal one of her jumpers and manage to find a pair of your shorts. You think you hear Larissa grumbling faintly, something about her favourite sweater that you’re currently wearing.

“You snooze you lose,” you call out in a sing song voice.

Heading over to the living room and starting a log fire. Larissa joins you shortly after, turning on the record player and laying down a Fleetwood Mac vinyl. Letting the static fill the room before music starts to play. This accompanied the raindrops that pelted the windows - once you were warm and most importantly dry, you could enjoy the melancholy of the rain.

“Darling, come join me,” Larissa calls to you from the sofa, she’d brought a few blankets from her bedroom and had created a cosy looking nest, where she sat snuggled in the centre. You don’t need told twice because within minutes you’ve dived into the nest and curled up into her side. Head resting in the crook of her neck. She still smells like her perfume, vanilla and cinnamon, but with the lingering scent of the rain, a more earthy undertone has been added. You sigh contently as you press a kiss to her neck - it was the only part of her you could reach.

She pulls the blankets closer in until you’re both sat there in a cocoon. Warm and dry… sort of. Both of you still have wet hair but it’s not dripping anymore.

��Thank you for today, Atikah, it was wonderful. Even with the rain- ahh!” Her words were cut off with a yelp. Jumping back from you as you collapsed into a fit of giggles. You had worked your hands - which were freezing cold still - under her sweater and placed them on her bare stomach, “you little menace!”

“Sorry Rissa!” You manage to squeeze out between laughs, “it was- it was too easy,” you go to cuddle into her again but she pushes you away. Feigning offense.

You pout at this, “come on! I’m sorry! I won’t do it again,” you begin, pushing against her, “I promise!”

She pauses. Giving you a distrustful look. You attempt your best puppy dog eyes. And it works, it takes only a second for Larissa to be all over you. Peppering you with kisses - leaving red lipstick marks - as you squirm in her grasp.

~

AN - I hope you like it! Sorry it wasn’t as fluffy as you might have hoped for! <3

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #didn’t proof read #that’s for losers #request

[writingduhh]

Pumpkin Patch || Ted Nivison

I made a little mood board for this fanfic because why not

Now just sit back, relax, and enjoy!

Paring: Ted & Y/n

Type: Fluff

It was finally October, and nature had donned its autumn attire. The leaves had transformed into a mesmerizing display of colors, a crisp chill permeated the air, and, most importantly, Halloween loomed on the horizon. As tradition dictated, you and your boyfriend, Ted were heading to the local pumpkin patch, an eagerly awaited experience that had occupied your thoughts for months.

"I'm so excited!" you grinned, your enthusiasm almost palpable as you practically bounced in your seat, resembling a child on the brink of an adventure.

"Oh really? I didn't notice," your boyfriend Ted teased, turning onto the dirt road leading to the patch.

After a short drive, you arrived at a rustic clearing surrounded by sprawling fields of corn and various fall vegetables. With only a few cars in the lot, parking near the front stand was a breeze. He switched off the car's engine and came around to your side, extending his hand, which you happily accepted. Together, you made your way to the small admission stand.

"Two admission tickets, please," you requested, and the lady exchanged the money Ted held for two pumpkin-shaped tickets.

"Alright, let's start our search," He grinned, releasing your hand, allowing you to explore the plethora of pumpkins. The selection was diverse, featuring pumpkins of different shapes, colors, and even a few squashes, should you feel the urge to carve those for some peculiar reason.

Speaking of pumpkins, you hoisted one into the air, calling out to Ted,

“Look at this beauty!”

"Oh my, that's amazing! Stay right there; I need a picture," he smirked , promptly retrieving his phone to snap a few photos.

"How did you even manage to pick that up? It's almost as big as you!" he marveled, assisting you in returning the pumpkin to where it belonged.

"What can I say, the Halloween spirit runs in my veins," you quipped.

"Oh, that makes sense. Wait, are you a witch, then?"

"Did you just call me a witch…?”

"No! I didn't mean it that way!" he stammered.

"Relax, Teddy, I'm teasing," you reassured him, planting a kiss on his cheek.

After some more laughter and pumpkin exploration, you found yourselves at the food booths.

"Wow, look at all these options," you remarked, eyeing the extensive list of assorted food and beverages.

"I know, this is going to be a tough choice," he agreed.

After what felt like an eternity of deliberation, you settled on apple cider and pumpkin-flavored cookies.

"Where should we sit?" your boyfriend asked, carrying both of your treats.

"Hmm, what about over there?" you suggested, nodding toward a stack of hay bales beside the cornfield.

"Perfect."

Carefully, you sat down on the large bales when suddenly, Ted plopped himself down onto your lap. Rather than resisting, as he might have expected, you simply embraced the moment, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Oops, my mistake. I thought this was my seat," he winked, feigning an attempt to stand up.

You didn't release him, though; instead, you held onto him tightly.

“This IS your seat.” You smirked, arms wrapped around his waist.

"No, no, no, it's the other way around," he corrected.

In a swift motion, he placed your food on the ground before lifting you up off your feet and setting you down on his lap, one arm wrapping around your waist.

"See? There we go," he said casually, taking a sip of his cider.

At this point, you couldn't help but blush. Your plan had clearly backfired, but you didn't mind.

After enjoying your snacks, you wandered around some more until you spotted it—the most perfect pumpkin you had ever seen. As if on cue, you and your boyfriend locked eyes, silently communicating your choice.

"That one."

"You read my mind."

Hastily, you made your way to the pumpkin, but it was too heavy for you to lift. Being the gentleman he was, your boyfriend assisted you in carrying the pumpkin to the stand where you purchased it.

"I think we should name it Henry," you suggested, patting the pumpkin.

"Babe, remember what happened last year?" he cautioned.

You hesitated, recalling the struggle you had faced trying to carve and eventually part with the pumpkin you had named.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Let's just stick to calling it 'the pumpkin,' okay?" he chuckled softly, planting a kiss on your head.

“Ugh fine.”

#chuckle sammy #chuckle sandwich #hc #ted nivison x reader #ted nivison #ted nivison headcanons #ted nivison imagine #ted nivison fic #ted nivison fluff #ted nivison x y/n #ted nivison x you #ted nivison fanfiction #ted nivison moodboard #imagine #youtuber #commentary #halloween #ted nivison hcs #ted x reader #ted nivison fanfic

[sincerely-sofie]

It took me a minute to finally get my notes straight so I could answer this— I hope it was worth the wait! I’ll give some bullet points of tips I use to help boost my production speed in addition to the strategies I use to try to keep characters consistent. Let’s get into it!

First up: How I draw faster!

Note that these mostly apply to digital art, as that’s my preferred medium.

If your art program has them, experiment with brush stabilization levels. My hands shake really bad, especially while I’m drawing, so I put a lot of effort into finding a stabilizer level that works with my need to control lines while also smoothing out the tremors in my hands. It’s made it so much easier to draw lines like I want to, and therefore lets me move on instead of redrawing the same line over and over again.

Creating templates for your art helps so much— setting up things like canvas size, color profile, DPI, background colors and images like the paper texture PNGs that I love to use ahead of time helps me get drawing faster, while I’m excited and inspired! Similarly, having a naming system for your art files is useful for speed as well as finding and organizing old pieces easier.

Having premade color palettes of local colors for characters is also super helpful for speed, as well as keeping characters on model :>

Personally, I use a single brush for lineart and rely on the selection tool and bucket fill for coloring when I actually bother to color things in. My lines are pretty loose nowadays, and the same goes for when I color things— I don't abide exactly by the lineart I draw, and get pretty messy with the selection tool and bucket fill!

I simplify character designs as much as possible— the standard design of a sigilyph, for example, is pretty complex. But I made Sen a lot simpler (and also forgot the spikes on her torso in this panel. Oops)

As for keeping characters on-model…

I’m very flattered that you feel otherwise, but I actually don't keep characters very on-model between different drawings— just look at the different ways I've drawn Ark below— however, I'm improving over time as I become more familiar with how I want to draw the characters! A big part of my process of keeping characters on model is drawing characters over and over to familiarize myself with how they should look through trial and error.

Learning common angles and poses I will draw characters in is very helpful for making sure they look consistent. As a bit of a downside, though, it makes wonkier angles stick out like a sore thumb! Drawing Ark with his head slightly angled downward was really hard, and I don't think I communicated it that well here:

I try to have the characters broken down into as many simple shapes that fit into each other as I possibly can, like Twig’s head (circle + rectangle snout + angled rectangle horn) Ark's hair (that weird bangs shape) and Dusknoir's upper body (beanbag shape / slightly elongated circle torso, arms coming out of his frill that comes in a very particular arcing line). This makes it way easier to draw characters quickly and consistently, because I can learn those lines and shapes and get the motion of drawing them into muscle memory.

Also, knowing the ways characters emote is like knowing cheat codes. Giving characters things like a signature comedic expression of shock or grin that they make when they're happy are very helpful!

The biggest tip I can give on the topic of keeping characters on-model (at least without model sheets— model sheets are THE way to go. Don’t be like Sofie and neglect those pieces of gold) is really just to practice. Build up familiarity with the shapes and proportions of characters, get a feel for how your hand and wrist moves to get the lines right.

#creativity tips with sofie #art tips #drawing tips #drawing advice #art advice #stuff by sofie #sofie answers asks #(kinda)

[lovecanbesostrange]

ouattober2023 Day 5: Fav Relationship

RED SNOW

It doesn't say romantic relationship, so my absolute fav that will creep into everything else (even very specific Red romances with other ladies I daydream about) is Snow White & Red, Mary Margaret & Ruby, who weren't allowed enough scenes together post-curse.

Snow White wandered the wilderness alone and ended up in a chicken coop, seeking shelter from the cold and oh yeah, also there was this growling scary sounding beast around (funny thing about that...). And in the morning Red stumbles in, trying to get eggs. What would you do finding a thief? Be at least a bit little suspicious? Especially when the thief gives you an obviously fake name? At least question of that thief might have done something bad and was hiding for a nefarious reason? Yeah, not Red though. One look and she takes the girl in. Name? Pffff, just something to call someone. (Which makes a lot of sense, since she doesn't reveal her own name, it's just "everyone calls me Red".) Yes, okay, Snow is so far away from her bandit badassery, Red can assess the threat level and she knows she could take her... that's for sure some thoughts running through her head.

And from then it's settled, these two are friends now. Finding some dead, maimed corpses and subsequently going on a wolf hunt sure helps the bonding experience. The true kicker is when one of them turns out to be the wolf and the other is just: "¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Well, we suspected the person isn't violent and I won't abandon her now." See, this is a good example of do-as-you-preach. Snow was adamant that Red could help Peter, that he was truly good at heart, not a bloodthirsty monster, that the change was temporary and he deserved help, not to be thrown to a mob. Except "he wasn't the wolf" (Snow's voice gives me chills everytime). And now Snow will do everything for Red.

Snow has her mind set on living in a nice cabin in the woods and it's good she met Red. At least she teaches her how to properly track. When Quinn finds them though and Red gets to meet Anita - everything could have changed right there. Snow was ready to let Red go and in this scenario Red would have had a family member back, gotten control over the wolf and be welcomed in a whole pack let's ignore how irritating it is that they all vanish in an instant. Snow would have had to start with zero again. But then it's the Evil Queen soldiers following and finding her that sets in motion the chain of events that ends with Quinn's and Anita's death. Oops. And this is when Red chooses herself, her own path and that path is next to Snow. So close to getting a home, but instead she saves Snow's life, because Snow is already the family she needed. A found family, forged in tragedy. Wonderful.

And after that the dynamic sorta switches. Because - after becoming bandit!Snow and living in her cabin, befriending seven men etc - Snow is the one to find love. Something they talked about the first day they met, when Red had Peter and Snow believed there would never be time for romance. But oh, Red sees the love and she is Team Snowing through-and-through. Emma's little Back to the Future stunt changed things up, but most things still happened, that includes Red teaming up with Charming for a bit for sure. And despite the weird oversight that Red can't be seen at the Snowing wedding, she totally fights for them.

Here is my obligatory sidenote. I like canon just fine. I melt into a puddle the moment Red calls Snow her family at the end of Child of the Moon. Female friendship to the max and all that. But, please, come on, Red's crush on Snow could be seen from space! [insert moon joke here] While I mostly ignore the existence of Red's Untold Tale and the comic Shadow of the Queen, it should be pointed out that in the latter Snow did ride wolf!Red. Dorothy wasn't the first to get to experience that. With the CGI in mind it's best we didn't get to see that, but just think for a minute about the fun Snow had with her now in control bestie in her furry form. (And remember that the episode Heartless is a thing, in which Snow pre-bandit-outfit meets a hunter specializing in werewolves, sure, sure.) Anyway, this friendship goes deep and there was one-sided love.

If you accept my premise here, it's extra fun to look at two tiny Red Snow exchanges. 1. The welcome back party in The Cricket Game. Ruby: "I wasn't worried a bit." MM: "I can tell." 2. Ruby's sorta non-coming out in Ruby Slippers when Snow says she could give Dorothy TLK. "Ruby, you're my best friend. I know you And I see how worried you are. You can tell me." Yes, this is pure fan wank on my part, I am aware, but isn't it beautiful? Even though they haven't seen each other Snow considers Ruby her best friend and she can still read her and her own past next to Red, she knows what her love looks like. Friends to almost lovers is a thing (oh, I have a dozen very romantic scenarios in my head for them, ask around).

oh look who made that gif, I wonder who that is They went together through thick and thin and I don't understand how the writers couldn't find a way to keep Ruby around (the super speed was a mistake). I believe Red was supposed to be Emma's favorite Aunt, please, her non-fairy godmother. Snow at an angry moment should have threatened somebody with letting the wolf loose the way Regina did with the Blind Witch in Ruby Slippers, for the lols and my viewing pleasure. But despite all the mistakes, when Ruby did come back in S5 we get two great Red Snow scenes. In The Bear King and Ruby Slippers, both set in the diner hallway and it's marvelous. Especially that added goodbye scene to explain Ruby's absence, while mirroring their moment in the wolf den. Snow letting go, respecting that Red might find her happiness elsewhere.

Oh, to think about "not as much as I'll miss you". That does sting, because we see Snow get her Prince Charming, her kingdom, her family, then survive the curse, befriend her nemesis even and Ruby is... gone. Living for who knows how long as a wolf in a witch hut. The only thing so wrong about them finally meeting again in the Underworld is that Snow doesn't even recognize those paw prints! Writers! WHY?? You let me down, there is a whole scene about those big ass tracks. (Can't blame Emma for not recognizing Ruby in wolf-form.)

Anyway, Your Honour, I LOVE THEM! I will always look out for the female lead having a close girl bestie, okay? This show needed more unrelated friendships. (Also secret kisses during cold nights, ssshhhh, they needed to stay warm.) They needed each other:

#ouattober2023 #OUaT #Ruby Lucas #Red Snow #Snow White #this is the brief version about my feelings - trust me

[yutaleks]

Started to think about Yakuza!Yuuta because of mitgi-ko’s artwork on Twitter!!

Imagine working as a club (much to your own displeasure, but you need that money to pay off college loans!!) and you know that the Yakuza in your city frequent the club you work for. Luckily for you, you’ve never really caught any of their eyes so you’re never asked to serve any of them.

But perhaps the second in command, aka Yuuta, has his eyes set on you already. Watching as you awkwardly and dejectedly work with an uncomfortable expression in your eyes. He thinks you’re the most darling thing in the club!

So what does Yakuza!Yuuta do? The natural thing of course. Tells your boss that he’d like to pay for your company while he’s there to attend a high ranking Yakuza meeting at the club. At first, you were trying to avoid the yakuza as much as possible so that you could make your money, pay off your college loans, move away from this city, and get your dream job.

To say that you’re scared shitless when your boss informs you that the second in command of the local Yakuza asks specifically for you is an understatement. But you have to comply. So during their next weekly meeting or whatever, your coworkers (sisters you all call each other even if none of you are related), help you get fancied up! And when you enter the room you are brimming with anxiety and everyone can tell. Yet you put on your best strained smile, trying to make your movements not so stiff as usual and bite back the uncomfortable grimace on your face.

Yakuza!Yuuta waves you down, saying he paid for you to night. The typically ruthless and cold man that you have heard about seems less like that. Motioning for you to sit next to him on the long couch that stretches the entire border of the room. Putting his arm over your shoulders and forcing you to lean against him. Unlike what your sisters have said about him, he seems respectful in some way. Some have said how forceful he can be in the club, just grabbing a girl by their wrist or something and yanking them to sit next to him with a scowl. But he’s surprisingly not rough with you!

Damn I just realized this is a lot…oops…brain rot got to me…

-Sage Anon

Mitgi_ko Yuuta is soooooo sexy… he’s always covered in blood…. He’s sooooooooooooooooo fine. My lord.

Oh my God yakuza!yuuta……………. Tattooed sleeves…….. wears a suit…………… smoking a cig while he’s sitting with you………………………………. Something about him having rolled up sleeves and you can see visually how strong he is just by the shape of his arms and the veins just barely popping out and…………………… fuck

#ϟ asking aleksandria #sage anon #hold on I need to find a fanart lemme come back to this. fuck

[sarcastic-kai]

Kakashi Hatake headcannons

I copy and pasted this from my wattpad lol since i havent written in a hot second and I feel bad about it :/

•What he's like in the mornings•

Kakashi isn't a morning person. He hates the feeling of being in a deep, peaceful sleep, then having that ruined by his alarm clock or the sharp, unforgiving rays of the sun.

That being said, he always tries his best to be pleasant for you in the mornings, and he usually doesn't have to try very hard because waking up next to you is always worth waking up.

˚˚˚˚˚

You run your fingers through your lover's hair, giggling as the motion only seems to make it more fluffy.

"Darling," you whisper. "It's time to wake up, my love."

A soft grunt leaves Kakashi's lips before he shifts defiantly and rolls to face away from you.

Rolling your eyes, you huff with irritation. Every single morning it seems to be the same routine. Kakashi ignores his alarm, you try to wake him up, he ignores you.

A small, mischievous grin snakes up your lips. Now it's time for your favorite part.

You sit up and shift to kneel beside your husband. Still grinning, you bite back your laughter as you snatch up your pillow, raise it above your head, and swing it down onto his with a loud, "HATAKE YOU'RE GOING TO BE LATE!"

The pillow makes contact, followed by a muffled "oof!"

Kakashi sits up, glaring at you as you double over in a fit of snickers and giggles.

Grabbing the pillow, he throws it back at you, hitting you square in the face and sending you rolling off the bed in surprise.

You get up, scowling playfully at Kakashi as he smiles sheepishly at you.

"Oops. I guess I used too much strength."

≈≈≈≈≈

•His favorite date idea•

Kakashi isn't one for over-the-top, grandiose gestures of romance and love. He's more of a laid back, simple outing sort of guy. He's different from a lot of people. While some people are made of  bright bursts of violent vibrance, he is composed of gentle swirls of pastel tones. So while some people may set up an elaborate evening of fancy dining, extravagant entertainment, and romantic candlelit beach walks; Kakashi Hatake prefers to keep it relaxed and fun. His go-to date ideas are either a walk through the village, a stop at Ichiraku, and a movie at his place; or a lazy night in with take out, movies, and lots and lots of cuddles.

˚˚˚˚˚

"Y/n!"

You look up from your homework to see your best friend, f/n, standing in your doorway with their arms crossed and a start expression.

"What're you doing?" They ask, and you wonder why they sound so irritated.

You look at your textbook then back to them. "Uh... homework."

They roll their eyes and point to your phone next to you on the desk.

"Well, dummy, it's 8pm and you said you had an outing with Kakashi at 6:40."

"oh shit!" You jump up, knocking your chair back and snatching your phone off the desk. To your dismay, you scroll through your notifications to see multiple texts from your boyfriend, the last one dating to 20 minutes ago. you bite your lip, guilt and anxiety beginning to grow in your gut.

"Fuck," you mumble, running a hand through your hair. "he's been waiting for so long. Oh god, he probably hates me now."

"Actually, I don't."

You look up to see Kakashi standing behind your friend.

You expression drops, staring at him in shock and dismay. "oh my god..." you whisper.

Coming to your senses, you rush to him, nearly tackling him with a hug. "oh my god, Kakashi! I am so so so sor-"

Before you can finish, he plants a solid, loving kiss to your lips, cutting you off effectively.

Pulling away with a grin, he says, "don't worry about it. I cancelled the reservations because I remembered the big test you have coming up, so I let you study for a little longer. I ordered pizza to my place, and I am ready to walk you over there right now."

≈≈≈≈≈

•When you're sick•

Kakashi is a very gentle, concerned individual. After all he has been through, one of the hardest and more reoccurring lessons he has learned is to cherish those you love, and to take care of them. So when you're sick, he does just that. He spends extra time with you, gives you cuddles, brings you soup, the whole nine yards.

˚˚˚˚˚

"'Kashi..." your throat is horse and quiet, and you barely manage a whisper. But even that amount of effort sends your throat back into its painful, stinging blaze. You let out a whimper, but it quickly turns into a erratic fit of coughs.

The grey haired shinobi leans closer to you from his chair beside your bed, his brows furrowing with concern.

"Hey... y/n... is there anything I can get you? Maybe some cough drops or some tea?" He puts the back of his hand to your sweat-slicked forehead. "You're burning up. Your fever still hasn't gone down."

You try to say 'thank you captain obvious', but it comes out as a raspy, "thank... obvious", as your voice cuts in and out with the effort it takes to speak.

Kakashi seems to get the message though, and his signature mask crinkles in the way that you have learned to detect as his smiling underneath it.

"You're welcome y/n. I'll get you some tea to help your throat, okay?"

You close your eyes and nod, but just as he gets up to leave, you reach out and grasp his sleeve. He turns to look down at you, curious.

You smile up at him weakly. "Read... to me?'

Kakashi stiffens up, and you can see just a hint of a blush creep up his face and around the tops of his cheeks that arent covered by his mask.

"I- I really don't think you want that."

≈≈≈≈≈

•What he's like in bed•

Kakashi can be both a very gentle lover or a very rough one, depending on his (or your) mood. But either way, he is very considerate and very giving. He makes sure to make you feel loved and satiated, littering your body with kisses and showering you with praise.

He's open to a lot of things, and will try anything at least once if you ask him to.

He'll usually last about 1-3 rounds, depending on how wound up he is. He's very... needy after being on a long mission, but he always puts your wants before his own.

He's a king of aftercare. He'll draw you both a bath and massage you, peppering you with kisses and whispering sweet nothings into your shampoo sud-covered hair.

˚˚˚˚˚

You moan against your lovers neck, tightening your grip on his grey locks.

With every shift of his body and roll of his hips, he fills you up, stretching you around his member in the most delicious way imaginable. His thrusts are strong and consistent, hitting your sweet spot every time, driving you to the brink of insanity.

"oh god, 'Kashi," you whimper, moving one arm to wrap around his back and pull him impossibly closer to you. He grunts in response, his hot, labored breaths fanning across your neck and shoulder that he is nestled into.

Without warning he bites your collar, eliciting a sharp gasp and drawled out moan from you as you arch your back, pushing your breasts into his chest.

You can feel him smile against your skin, but you don't pay any attention to that, since all your focus is on your impending release. Kakashi's thrusts increase in speed, only serving to tighten the coil in your lower abdomen. Your entire body is tingling with arousal and lust, and with a few  more thrusts you come undone.

Your entire body tenses up and you cry out in pleasure as your eyes roll to the back of your head and your mind goes blank. Kakashi keeps going, only faltering from his rhythm for a couple thrusts before he finds it again.

You want to tell him to slow down, but nothing comes out of your thoroughly fucked self. Instead, your moans increase in pitch, drawling out into some sort of desperate whine. But if you are whining for more or less, Kakashi can't tell, and you truthfully don't care.

Once your orgasm has finished wrecking your body it winds down, but it is quickly flailed up again by Kakashi's own chase for release. Within seconds your extremely sensitized body is driven to another orgasm, and for a few seconds, you swear you lose consciousness.

Pleasure envelops your entire being, blinding you with its enticing white light. You writhe and scream with bliss, the erotic sensations are like you've ever felt before, they're breath taking.

Once You float down from your high, and your stomach is coated with Kakashi's release, your eyes reluctantly flutter open to gaze up at him.

His grey hair is messy and matted with sweat, falling unusually flat on his gorgeous face.

He grins down at you, before quickly leaning down and kissing you passionately. You smile into the kiss, returning it with a spent effort.

Kakashi pulls away, brushing his knuckles against your face in a loving gesture.

The way he gazes at you, as if you're the most beautiful and precious creature on earth, makes you blush furiously and you cover your face with your arms.

Kakashi chuckles, pulling out of you and running an arm along your side comfortingly.

"Come on, y/n. Let's go get cleaned up."

#Kai writes #Kakashi hatake smut #kakashi hatake #kakashi #naruto smut #naruto #headcannons #naruto headcannons #Kakashi hatake headcannons #Kakashi headcannons

[maximillien]

What if reader also had a shitty life back on earth and was brought like Choi Han

And any ounce of comfort makes them want to cry from happiness because holy shit somebody cares about them. And it doesn't matter which love language it's expressed in, as long as reader knows that somebody actually took time out of their day to think of them and to do something for them would make them cry. And so reader is so happy somebody finally loves them because they're so isolated and lonely from their trust issues due to trauma that they explode all of their love and affection on the person that cares? That person being cale

And yannow, as much as Cale likes to say he's a trash ass, he's really not. He exercices the five love languages all the time. And he's caring.

So imagine these two messes meeting each other, Cale being Cale, idk when he'd fall in love, it'd be slow for sure, but he'd grow to care for reader a lot first and reader would be like 'omg. Somebody actually??? Cares??? I must give this man all my love!'. Cue physical contact, hugs, little pecks here and there, reader giving cale gifts that reminded them of him, reader being fully supportive of his slacker life dreams (he's never getting those honestly, with the shit he pulls), reader helping him through tough times, reader who knows and sees what others don't, the slight tense of a shoulder, the tiniest wrinkle of a frown. The words of affirmation and praise and love would tumble out of their lips, bringing cookies and desserts when they could, heck making them themselves, helping with paperwork and duties so that cale can relax.

And just cale being just like reader like '??? Holy shit??? Somebody??? Cares???' And quietly returning the favours, with head pats and a hand on the shoulder to let them know he's there, to reassure and ground them, praise to the hard work they go through to ease his own, the snacks he'd bring because he knows they like them, maybe he'd try to cook something from their world to comfort them, he'd see something in a boutique or on a market stand and immediately buy it without thinking, putting it on readers bed so it remains anonymous, spending some time-in which he could be resting- with them, in silence, just basking in each other's presence, or maybe even having some phatic talk.

And just, two people who've gone through so much shit, and have been disappointed over and over, that have the worst trust issues, slowly letting their walls down, falling in love quietly but hardly, and completely entrusting their lives to one another. Two people who can practically know what the other is thinking, and then discern a way to react to that thinking, wether it be a hand on the knee, finger stroking little circles to calm from a panic attack, a plate of fresh baked cookies brought in the room after one saw the others eye bags from the sleepless nights, filled with nightmares. Seeking each other out unconsciously, bodies lingering and limbs subconsciously leaning towards the other, eyes looking for their other half, unsatisfied and searching until they find them, finally relaxing. Words of comfort whispered in the dead of the night, as a hand lays on the small of one's back in a comforting motion. Two people who slowly heal each other through their actions and care for each other like nobody else could, care like they never have before.

And the others see this and are just so happy? Because their young master and the person he brought in, the two people who had some of the highest walls, the two loneliest people have found each other and found themselves in the process. Two people they guessed have gone through so much shit from the way they talked and acted, both far too mature for their age, both shouldering far too much. Maybe they'd even try to set them up in some cases. An outing to the market and oops! Raon and the kittens forgot their money at home and suspiciously don't want to steal cales? Well, at least reader and Cale can go through the market alone, fingers inching closer till they're touching, thinking nobody is looking. (The kids are looking. They're elated to find their father find somebody who loves him as much as he loves them). Maybe Beacrox would know when one would cook for the other, so he'd leave some ingredients out, some pre made and some fresh. (He just doesn't want them ruining his lover- his kitchen.). And maybe Alberu would invite them under the guise of 'Living the experience of the Royal Gardens. Only exclusive to the royal family of course!' And oh! What's that? He has paperwork? And he actually wants to do it? Darn then, guess he's got to go! (He secretly asked for binoculars to be made and was watching them the whole time). Just the whole family being in on it, and as sweetly disgusting as some of it is- like just shove your mouths together already- it's comforting and new, and it's a beautiful thing for them all to see.

That's the kinda love I want and I think it's fucking beautiful.

Where's my Cale?

#trash of the count's family #cale henituse #cale tcf #tcf x reader #cale henituse x reader #lout of the count’s family #tcf #cale lcf #lcf #I want this kind of love #unconditional love