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#he is the type of person who will spin you
hannie-dul-set · 2 days
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EXTENSION: AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.
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p — LEE JENO x female! reader. g — gang leader! jeno, actress! reader, humor, tension tension tension, jeno realizes his type in women after getting kidnapped by his celebrity crush. w — swearing, kidnapping, crime in general. 1.4k words.
note — part 2 to an unlikely fanmeeting. to the anon who said that they envisioned eric from tbz as the ex boyfriend, this one's for u. enjoy.
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a swoosh on the top. a loop at the bottom. two slopes intersecting before breaking of to scratch a little heart at the tail end. the ink is red. it’s always red.
“is this all?”
you remove the cardstock from the table, and with a sharp movement you snap your arm straight, presenting it to him. jeno looks at your signature— with the pretty loops and all, but he smacks his tongue in disappointment. there’s an impatient twitch on your brow as you eye him, waiting seated on the other side of your desk. jeno snatches the autographed card, “of course not," then tucks it into the chest pocket of his no longer damp shirt.
there’s a clench of your jaw, a tightening of your stare. your eyes stopped quivering even since starting the deal. a shame, because jeno had a lot of fun backing you into a corner.
still, he likes seeing you mad too— sharp gaze, knitted brows, lips on the verge of a sneer— almost foreign to the gentle and sweet expressions natural to your features. there’s no mix of melancholic blue like when you’re acting out a scene. this one’s impersonal, like you’ve got no shits to give. it’s red. all red.
jeno prefers red.
he leans a little closer. your annoyance shifts to suspicion. he rests an arm on your desk, shifting his weight to it. a single tap on the stack of blank cardstock. “i need a couple bit more,” he says, a quirk of the lips. “my boys like you a lot, too.”
a pause. then a sigh. you roll your eyes and shoo him off your personal space with a wave, to which he hums and obediently follows, and while the scratches of pen against paper fill your office space, jeno takes the once in a lifetime opportunity to snoop around a celebrity’s room.
the whole is flushed with dark mahogany, a singular lamp illuminating the area from the ceiling. there’s a case lined with countless trophies and plaques and certificates and awards. there’s a wall with a giant poster of your face on it. he flits his eyes over to you on the desk, blank faced as you sign each layer of cardstock one by one like a machine, then back to the bigger version of your face on the wall, smiley-eyed and innocent.
there’s a laugh trying to claw out of his throat. he spins his heels and returns to your desk.
“wait," he says, interrupting you from finishing the last card on the pile. your hand jerks to a stop. you look up at him, what now? on your expression. jeno is pretty sure he’s done a negative amount of good things to deserve seeing all these different kinds of faces from you. “can you put park jisung on that one?”
“what?”
“nice kid. a little clumsy. good with the bat,” jeno answers and you look like you could care less. “he cried three times watching sunwater. give him a little treat.”
you, once again, let out a exhale and continue writing with a rather aggressive scribble, ending the note with a pressure-pointed dot in the bottom right corner. “happy?” you deride.
he hums, “that’s not the attitude of someone who wants something from me,” and slides the stack of cards to his side of the desk, collecting it between his hands and slides them in between each other with a shuffle. “but anyhow, let’s get to talking.”
“finally.”
three loud taps on the table as he sets down the autographed cards. jeno takes the plush seat in front of your desk and drags it closer.
“you want us to abduct your ex boyfriend.” you affirm. “who is it? the eric sohn guy i keep seeing you on the news with?” a look of judgement overrides your expression. jeno simply shrugs. you can’t blame him for the fact that your face and name is everywhere.
“whatever,” you sigh. “anyway, yes, i want that bitch back here. he ran away to japan after i caught him fucking shin yona two days before our god damned anniversary.”
“damn. his loss.” 
“the fucker knows i can’t run after him because my schedule is packed this week. one of which is an ad shoot with the bitch yona, by the way. if she doesn’t pull out voluntarily, i’ll see to it that she does.”
you sure do swear quite a lot. “i think i’ve seen her before. was it firefly? i don’t know, that movie was crap.”
again, with the look of heavy judgement. makes him want to keep egging you on on purpose.
“i get it that you’re a fan, but this isn’t a god damned fanmeeting, you know.”
jeno looks at you, a ghost of a grin on his lips. “does your company know you act like this?” 
“of course not, how’d you think i stayed in the industry for so long if i don’t know how to act fake,” you roll your eyes. “back to the point. eric sohn. japan. can you bring him back here?”
“consider it done,” he says. his phone is out. you returned his shit earlier after wrapping things up in the basement. he then keys in a couple texts to a few contacts, eyes flickering between you and the screen. “and then what do you want? how badly do you wanna see him ruined? a few broken ribs and bruises? ‘til his face is unrecognizable? or—”
jeno closes his phone and drops it back into his pocket. he leans forward to get a better look at your face. 
his voice is low, quiet, and hushed, yet pulls down the air into the ground with a gravity heavier than that of the earth’s.
“want him dead?” 
silence permeates the room. he can’t read the thoughts running inside your pretty little head— save for the inkling that you don’t find his last suggestion the very least bit appealing.
“are you stupid? don’t you dare fucking touch him.”
your voice is aghast— offended. well, what did he expect. you might’ve acted the entire night like you had little to no regard to violence and the law— sending a bunch of men to kidnap him and all and waking up tied in a shady basement inside your own home, a few suspicious materials here and there, that’s got him thinking you’ve got graver intentions than a simple splash of water and a probably slap in the face.
“i only asked you to bring him to me and nothing more. don’t get ahead of yourself.”
but maybe there’s still a line that you you’re not willing to cross. 
“what’s the point if i don’t get to fuck him up myself?”
jeno feels a rattle in his bones.
he drills his eyes into you— your face, devoid of any jest or hint of hesitation. it’s all red and raw reprehension.
“what? the hell are you staring at?”
the words tumble out of his lips before he knows it.
“think you could let me watch?”
there’s a pause. it’s cold and quiet in your office. you’re looking at him like he just desecrated your parents graves. in jeno’s defense, you put the image in his head and his mouth doesn't have the safety on. when he doesn’t take it back, you sigh, place a set of fingers on your temple, and say, “get the job done first before making any extra requests.” 
well, that’s not a no at the very least.
“i’ve already made my payment so you better see to it that you accomplish your end of the deal.”
eyes flicker to the thin stack of autographed cards. he gets up from the chair with a rattle and takes it off the desk. “you sure about this, doll?” he asks, gaze flitting back to your face. “if word gets out, you’d be pretty much kissing your career goodbye, you know.” and after receiving your payment, he sets his arms down on the surface, leaning forward, grabbing taking out the red pen you’ve been using and scribbling his contact information on a spare sheet of paper.
he drops the pen with a clatter and takes a look at your expression.
“that’s fifteen years down the drain.”
you look like you’re tired of his shit.
“if word gets out that means you’re crap at your job,” you sneer, slapping your hand over the note as he finished writing. you slide it over to you with a screech. “didn’t you say you could handle this better than the incompetent fucks that brought you here?”
you’re looking up at him like you’re looking down, eyes snapped up, expectant and unforgiving.
jeno puts his hands up in a surrender, a sliver of a smile playing on his lips.
“you got it.”
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AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.
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hollymacycomic · 5 months
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Holly & Macy and Everyone Else
Chapter 4: Page 37
Start at the Beginning | About the comic | Tip-jar 
🌘 Support the comic & read the next page now on Patreon! 🌘
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mine's done a lot of sexy things in my opinion but top five to me still is asking daigo if he wanted to prioritize The Family or one man Not In The Family
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afieldinengland · 5 months
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.
#i’m starting to wonder if i hate myself for having been born a transsexual#it’s not shame— but there’s something in the way i think about myself that’s deep and bitter. i don’t know. well i’ve never enjoyed myself#in general. i’ve never been ashamed of it and i’ve never been proud of it in fact i hate talking about it entirely#and i’ve realised i don’t even like thinking about it too deeply. too knee-deep in history’s men-image#(by which he means richard ii and oscar wilde and injured knights with long hair and poets on laudanum and artists on cocaine)#i feel sick. it isn’t a sickness because i can’t be ‘cured’ and i don’t want to be and it’s intrinsic but modern vocabulary feels heavy in#my mouth and puts me in a petri dish. even ‘transsexual’ feels like uber modern parlance sometimes. i can’t do it#but that’s the word. just sometimes i think it would have all been easier if things had gone otherwise. and i know that makes me bad at thi#i have to speak to you in your language. and i don’t know what i mean by that or even where that thought comes from. it’s your language#i should be in the bronze age right now i’m sorry i got waylaid. i got lost#i can’t stop being it but if i think too much about it i start wanting to eat my own fingers and i think— and this is my hypothesis—#it’s because i’ve never enjoyed myself i’ve never been in a healthy relationship and i can’t remember the last time i had fun#but then that’s another thing i’m not made for. that’s a lie there is a desperate aesthete in here who has been so starved of hedonism for#as long as i’ve had him that he’s hoarse. i’m tired i’ve been walking for nine hundred years my feet hurt#i don’t know. why me why now et cetera. i’m just wondering if i don’t despise myself a bit for it— like it’s a trick i did in a past life#again. it’s a privilege. it’s more intrinsic to my personhood than blood type or astigmatism or that weird thing i have with my hip#and i could be proud of it if only i could work out how. i’m content— in the same way i’m content with everything— but i don’t know.#i don’t like talking about it i don’t like thinking about it because it feels like i’m losing the game i’m constantly playing against mysel#in my head. i’m my own personal spin doctor you see#whatever. sorry. in light of doing better i can get this out too. can you believe i haven’t been kissed in years
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petorahs · 1 year
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not gonna lie my characterization and rationalization of akira's character has been easier to do once i found out he shares the same personality type as me.
like sure it's subjective or whatever but as one myself, ENFP akira makes a lot of his actions make so much more sense. same with ENTP goro. god it makes everything so much easier with arguably complex characters like them.
#aishi.txt#NOW IMMA BE REAL W U i cant pretend to know everything about personality types and learning about it makes my head SPIN#so if im wrong about their types (or god forbid my own type) dont beat me up!!! im just a little guy you wouldnt do that to a silly lil guyy#i know how. passionate people get about these. letters#but i just think knowing even surface-level about it helped Me in particular ^_^#like it rly did. im a stickler for these things and i care if im portraying characters right somewhat in my art n analysis n shi#so putting them in these lil boxes and labeling them helps!#OUGHHH IM BEIN sooo.. smart n organized rn. lets freaking go#like i think its less 'oh akira just like me fr' but more like shit yeah that makes sense people do that#like if someone thinks its weird akira would devote himself to a man who betrayed and tried to kill him twice 🤨🤨🤨#....lets just say they havent met me!#(me forgiving any guy who's wronged me before as long as they say the word or show a modicum of remorse) seems legit!#that being said i think akira just like me fr in the way that if i embraced my quietude or whatever#i think#i am an ENFP though even if i dont know anything beyond surface level ive done multiple tests on various sotes and spaced them out#by months#and kept getting ENFP#So objectively i am one 😎 (dont make me go into identity crisis mode pls! )#i think it speaks volumes though like i understand all too well#hc but i think akira wasnt always quiet but he had to be quiet when he transferred which is obv and also being quiet came naturally?#but its obvious he doesnt always want to be#ie him laughing maniacally in metaverse. frequent flaunting and 'it's showtime!' stuff#for me in the past the 'quiet kid. unassuming' label followed me throughout school and i haaaated that but there was also no disputing it..#i could only try to get close to ppl to show them the real me... -_-#i guess i relate to akira on that front#that being said im also probably mega projecting#but what is media and my own engagement of it if not a sandbox playground for me to do whatever#that being said if im severely ignorant abt this pls lmk im down to learn. i think i prolly am esp in regards to goro's type cuz#i didnt spend that long thinking about him. cuz akira's my fav dhdhdj#🫰goro's just fun to psychoanalyze. akira's my meepmorp if that makes sense
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captainshyguy · 1 year
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i’ve been watching the great british bake of 2019 with my mum and it cracked my brain open like an egg so i will be insane for like a week probably heads up lol
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messylustt · 11 months
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౨ৎ ‧˚
𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬
miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 1.3k words
fic masterlist pt one next part
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i’ve gotten some help with my spanish and have approved/fixed accordingly (if you have any suggestions on the spanish please speak up!); enemies to lovers trope; not obvious, but subtle jealous miguel; human(not spider-person)!reader; spanish term of endearment ‘chaparrita’ — miguel o’hara has never liked you—a human—joining the team as the ‘person in the chair’. he’s made his distaste for you clear. but when he speaks certain spanish words you don’t understand, he reveals that his annoyance of you is by the fact that you make him feel ‘hot’. soon, a deal surfaces, his promotion benefitting you both.
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Miguel watches as you fiddled with the different tech machines, tapping with a focused gaze. He tilted his head, staying by the large spider, having spread out screens filled with the many mission's info.
He had a slight scowl on his face, his expression usually one considered moody. But this time he had a reason for it. You.
You were a pain to Miguel, far too nice to every spider-person. He hadn't liked having you here the moment a few of them recommended you. They described you as the 'person in the chair'. You were smart, sure, but Miguel didn't think you belonged here. You weren't a spider-person like the rest of them, you were human.
He jumped down, landing beside you. You look to your left, having to tilt your head up at his sheer height. You gulp. You've always been nervous around Miguel O'hara. You didn't think he once smiled, his gaze only seeming to harden, especially when you would speak.
So, you kept it minimal. Only talking to him when it was required. "O'hara." You nod, turning quickly back to your work. "Anything I can help you with?"
"Nothing you can help with, y/l/n." His small jab at your inability in many areas, such as swinging from buildings with web, made you straighten your spine.
You ignore his tone, again not daring to meet his gaze. "Then, I'm sure Jessica will be here soon to help with anything."
Miguel's eyes wander your stiff posture. He could tell that he made you nervous, and part of him relished in that. It helped him think that you knew your place.
When you noticed that he wasn't leaving, you go to say something else, when Hobie and Peter burst into the room. Both yours and Miguel's attentions shift. Hobie easily moves towards you, making you smile. He reached his hand out as you did what many would call a typical 'bro handshake'. But Hobie instead chose to call something far from normality, in his prominent british accent.
Hobie was one of the ones who recommended you for this job. And you've been beyond grateful since.
"How's ya bloody borin’ shit goin’?" Hobie asks, leaning down to see whatever nonsense you had typed up.
"Describe 'boring shit'." You say, your tone turning smug.
He scoffs, eyeing the screen again, before giving up and grabbing your chin to turn back to the tech. "Keep working."
You chuckle, just as Miguel speaks. "Aren't you supposed to be out?"
Hobie looks to Miguel, straightening his guitar strap. "What—should I start callin’ ya boss, and kissin’ ya boots?"
Hobie has always been one to 'do his own thing' and completely bypass the rules. Miguel looks unimpressed, as Hobie holds his hands up in fake innocence. Peter chimes in. "He doesn't wear boots."
Hobie glances at him. "Thanks Peter. I didn't know."
Peter doesn't have time to respond before he's running after his swinging daughter. "Just get back to work." Miguel says. "That includes you, Peter. And didn't I say not bring her here?" He sounds exasperated, as he pinches the bridge between his nose.
You spin in your seat watching as Peter sends back a 'sorry', as he disappears, running through the large exit door. Hobie is quick to follow sending you a nod and a smile.
You wave them off, feeling the tension flood back into the room now that it's just you and Miguel again. You swiftly spin back in your chair, your fingers going back to tapping, as your legs spread comfortably.
Miguel looks back at you, before running his hand down his face, muttering. "No abras las piernas como una invitación." (Don't open your legs like an invitation.)
You pause, glancing at him. "What was that?"
He glances back at you, eyeing your confused expression. You, of course, didn't know spanish.
He places his hands against the desk, leaning a fraction closer to you, his gaze fluttering across your features. "Podría decirte cualquier cosa en español y no sabrías lo que quiero decir." (I could say anything to you in Spanish and you wouldn't know what I mean.)
"You know I don't know spanish." You mutter.
"I know. And the thought of you being so unaware, makes me want to tell you..." He leans closer to your ear, making your pulse beat rapidly. "....cuanto me haces arder, cariño. (how much you make me burn inside.) And it’s beyond annoying.”
You sigh, pushing slightly away from him. "Look, I know you find me annoying." You begin. "That's fine. But just...can you at least give me somewhat of a chance?"
"Do to what?" He asks, crossing his arms, as he leans back against the desk.
"To prove I'm helpful."
"Helpful?" Miguel asks, tilting his head. "You want to be helpful?"
"Of course."
"Then find a more suitable job." He stands to walk away.
"If you want me gone, then why don't you fire me?"
He pauses for a moment. "Sadly, I need a proper reason for that. So, if you want to be helpful to me. Then fuck something up."
"But while you're here being useless you should probably learn spanish." Miguel says as he walks out the door.
You huff, staring after him, watching as his back muscles contracted in a way that made you look away, gulping. Fucking Miguel O'hara.
;;
You sit, feet up by the tech, as you tapped away on your phone. You got a congratulatory 'ding' whenever you got a word or sentence right, and a rather loud 'booing' sound when you got a word or sentence wrong.
Yes, you're trying to learn Spanish. You sadly hadn't remembered word for word what Miguel had said to you, so you couldn't put it through translation. He must have purposefully spoken fast so you wouldn't have time to catch each word and remember.
'Me gusta ir al museo.' Your phone spoke. It translated to 'I like going to the museum' You had gotten it wrong, putting ‘park’ instead.
You groan, your head knocking back as your eyes shut in annoyance. You were only smart in certain areas. You let your phone drop to the desk, as you stretch, keeping your eyes shut tight, as if you could find the Spanish language hidden behind them.
"Spanish?" A deep voice spoke, making you jump, swiftly getting to your feet and spinning.
Miguel stands in his signature spider suit, your phone in his grasp. "I didn't think you'd actually listen to me."
You snatch it back, switching it off, as you scratch the back of your neck. "I was just..." You drift off sighing. "I like this job."
Miguel watches you closely. "You're committed, I'll give you that."
You smile, the word 'progress' swirling in your brain. "I learnt a sentence." You say, brows creasing in remembrance. "Me gusta...ir al...musio?" (I like going...to the...musio?) You say this more so as a question as you meet the amused gaze of Miguel.
"Ir al museo." (To the museum) He corrects, knowing the generic 'hobbies' sentences most kids learn.
"…I was close." You say, smiling, before you realise who you're talking to, your nerves returning.
Miguel nearly kicked himself for feeling warm at the small smile that you gave. You were trying to learn spanish—loosely—for him. "Can I make you a deal?" He suddenly asks.
You narrow your eyes a fraction. "What kinda deal?"
"One where we can help each other." He mutters, stepping closer. "You want to stay, correct?"
You nod.
"Then you're gonna have to convince me that you'd do anything for a mission."
You straighten, eyes widening at the chance to prove your worth. "I lead most missions, so loosely, you'd have to do anything for me."
He's much, much closer, eyeing you. "But we can make this a ‘give and take’. Let me teach you Spanish—something you'll need working here, close by me, and in return for every lesson, you have to do something for me."
You eye him. "Like what?"
"Anything." He answers. "Because you'll have to do anything that's required for those missions. Call it practice, or proving your worth, chaparrita."
You lick your lips thinking. You can't see anything inherently wrong with this 'deal', so you nod. And that earns you the very first smile you've seen from Miguel O’hara.
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i know this is short, but I just wanted to see if any of you guys would be interested in a full fic like this…
also if you would like to be in a taglist for this story — just comment
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cherry-leclerc · 2 months
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pride ☆ mv1
genre: smut, established relationship, stubborn!max, jealous!max, humor, fluff
word count: 3k
After his DNF, Max finds himself losing his temper when you keep insisting that it was his fault. Due to both ends, you find yourself in a constant battle on who can admit defeat first.
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+... gym sex - that's all teheee
req!...super fun to write, thank u, anon for the idea !!
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He never liked to be pointed out as the one who did something wrong on track. Then again, he rarely ever made those types of mistakes. Max got along with everyone on the grid, but he was there to win. And he certainly did not need his girlfriend reminding him that he’s human, just like the rest of the drivers.
“Just admit it already, you fucked up this time. You cut him off.”
A DNF was as bad as it could get, his mood quickly deteriorated as he bangs his helmet against the wall. If you weren’t used to his dark behavior, then you would have definitely worried. Instead, you tap your foot impatiently with a deep sigh, eyes rolling with strong annoyance. You didn’t like to see him like this, but it drove you crazy that he could never own up to his wrongdoings. 
The Dutch harshly rips off his balaclava, dirty blond hair sticking against his angry face, normally baby blue eyes switching to a devilish color. “You’re such a…” A deep growl. “He cut me off, and that’s what got us both out of the race. What a fucking dick.”
Your brow raises up, pointing at him with accusement. “My thoughts exactly.” Turning on your heel, you spin around and walk out of his driver's room, leaving him to sulk like a manchild. Stupid, Lando.
As soon as the race ends, you sheepishly make your way to the young Brit. “Is he mad?” he asks. You shrug as if you care about what your boyfriend is feeling at this very moment. Max wasn’t the kind to get mad, he got furious. 
“He’ll get over it. Though I do suggest you run the opposite way if you spot him.” He laughs, eyes crinkling with agreement. After apologizing on behalf of the grumpy Dutchman, you hurry off to find him. Propped up against the door frame, you nervously play with the hem of your dress as you inch your way closer. You can practically see the color red blooming out of him as he smiles bitterly.
“And where were you?” His voice expands softly, it makes your stomach churn, but you put on a brave face nonetheless, refusing to give in to his ego. It doesn’t matter. He chuckles, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek, head shaking in disapproval. “Aren’t I the one you should be consoling? I don’t see why you had to go see him.”
Your eyebrows narrow down sharply. “Max, you’re being a fucking baby, you caused the crash! Lando was just unlucky and I went to let him know, is that so wrong?”
The Dutch fumes, jaw clenching. “You can go see him, I don’t give a fuck, but stop saying it was my fault. He closed in on me.” You scoff, arms crossed. “This is pure bullshit.”
“Whatever, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m glad you’re alright,” you sourly say, pushing past him to go and retrieve your things, getting ready to leave back to the hotel. His nose twitches, following after you. Neither of you utter a single word, simply packing and strolling out the door. As soon as the media gets involved and Lando walks by with a shy smile and wave, he instinctively grabs your hand, leading you through the tight crowd with a bright smile, despite his crash. 
Setting aside your differences, you’re grateful for his sweet gesture, even if it laces with a bit of possessiveness. The drive is tense, only the sound of the blinker being heard. You try adding some music, but as soon as he turns off the radio, you turn to him, hair slapping your flushed face. “Why did you do that?” Your hand slides back up, turning it on. He repeats his same actions, leaving you to burn lasers to the side of his head. 
“Your music is complete shit.” Surprised by his cold tone, your right eye twitches like a crazy person before turning your attention back towards the road. He feels bad. He’s not mad at you, not even at his friend. But he wasn’t the biggest fan of letting his team down, and much less, owning up to it. 
Pushing the door open, you march in, making your way to the bathroom, ready to shower off the irritation. Max trails after you without a second thought, then you slam the door right on his face. He blinks. He can hear you turning the water on, stripping down. “You’re taking a shower by yourself this time, you dickhead.”
-
The next few races run smoother as he finishes in first place for most of them. All of them, actually. But his wins aren’t worth it in the end. Not with your rigid congratulations, forced kisses as you wait for him along with a puddle of photographers. It shouldn’t strike him as strange; you were still upset. For a second, he considers putting his pride aside and try to fix things, make amends, but when you mumble next to him, he quickly throws that out the window. 
“Baby finally got fed his bottle.”
All his pent up emotions came rushing back as you wear an innocent smile. With a sullen glare, he walks out, leaving you to gloat. Two can play that game. 
Here’s the thing with yours and Max's relationship; it was amazing. A fucking dream. You loved each other like crazy, but when you both get into an argument, it can drag out for the longest time. Your friends had pointed it out countless times, accusing you two for being freakishly stubborn. Oftentimes, he’d be the first to give up and apologize, and sometimes it was you. Only this time, it looked like a long haul. 
It was a weird dynamic. He still kissed you goodbye, reminded you how much he loved you. You still attended his races, glowed with sincere happiness for every podium of his, but apart from that, you two still held on to your end of the rope. And it’s been so long. One month? Maybe two?
“Four fucking months,” Max grunts, large hands fixing his drinking straw that connects to his suit. The Dutch is clearly frustrated, Checo could tell as he warily eyes his teammate. The Mexican driver poured out an amused chuckle. Max curls a dark brow. “What?”
Checo halts. “Nothing, man. You’re just being so…how do I put this nicely?” He clicks his fingers enthusiastically. “You’re acting like a douchebag. Puras pendejadas, lo que estás haciendo.” The blue eyed boy shakes his head.
“I don’t know what you mean by that.” He walks away.
“It means you’re doing stupid shit for absolutely no reason. Take it from me, I’m married! I know what I’m talking about, and as your elder, I suggest apologizing. It’ll fix everything, trust me.” But Max only ignores him, already climbing into his car. As much as he would love to try and make things right with the woman he adores like a complete idiot, there’s always something that ruins it. Whether it’s you witty reminders, or your cruel ignorance.
Though, he feels like he’s going crazy. He can feel his hands itch as they beg to hug you the way they were used to. Or to kiss your plump lips, slightly red from your constant nibbles. You can feel his eyes on you as you cut up a group of vegetables, getting things ready for dinner. Like a tease, you bend down to pick up the bag of carrots that had just fallen. You giggle. “Whoops.”
Abruptly, he stands up. “I’m going to get in a small workout before we eat.” That’s all. Left there with your jaw on the floor, you slam the knife against the cutting board. 
You missed him. You’d be insane not to. You missed cuddling with him after a long day. You missed the way he would cradle your face to kiss you eagerly after every win. Now it’s almost as if you’re a couple of strangers with the way he keeps a careful distance. And if he wasn’t going to fix things, then you would force him to.
He hears you before he actually sees you. Not a single word escapes past your lips as you skip closer. His molars grind together when he notices your tiny skirt, paired with a tank top. Perky tits salute him as he holds back a groan. Smiling sweetly, you start to stretch. “Thought I’d join you. Didn’t want to eat without you.”
His heart squeezes, ghostly nodding. Adjusting himself on the bench, he starts his set of overhead presses. Loopy eyes circle his glistening muscles as he pants tiredly, shaky breaths bouncing off of him. You have to physically stop yourself from drooling an entire ocean. 
The blue eyed boy leads an impressive set, a thin layer of sweat coating him like a blanket. One you would gladly roll around in. Pursing your lips, your limbs feel extremely weak all of a sudden and decide to settle with laying down and bringing your legs up, skirt sliding down, exposing your soft skin. 
“So tight,” you whine when you reach up, muscles tied up in an uncomfortable spot. Intrigued, your boyfriend takes a peek and instantly curses, large hands gripping against the metal bar. He gulps. “Maxie, can you push my legs back for me?”
His breath hitches. “No. I’m sure you can do that yourself.”
Sitting up straight, you squint your beady eyes at him as he distracts himself by adding more weight to his set. You click your tongue, a menacing grin tugging at your pink lips. “Messed up, baby, you are messed up.”
Max curses himself for falling in love with someone as beautiful as you. It seriously messed him up a concerning amount. Suddenly there was no more cold demeanor when it came to you. That simply just belonged to the rest because you were everything to him.
“First, you’re too much of a pussy to admit your mistakes and now you’re too scared to get near me?” You scoff. “It’s all starting to add up.”
Except at this very moment.  
“And what exactly is that? If you don’t mind me asking.” 
Kneeling down onto the black mat, you stretch your arms out against it, and lay your back flat. You hum. “Oh.” You arch your back, ass angling upwards where his eyes quickly trace to. You smirk. “Nothing.”
If he weren’t so impressed by your bratty act, he would have definitely walked out on you. But you just looked so pretty, rosy, and you were glistening. He wonders what else there was on top of that. The Dutch moves on to a bench press. Huffing, he grits his teeth as he extends his arm before puffing and bringing them back down.
The 26 year old, despite your attempts, was as focused as he could possibly be. The adrenaline was lingering in his entire system as he kept his eyes trained upward. Chest locking tightly, muscles contracting. And then he hears it. Your tiny moans, soft whimpers.
The loud sound of him dropping the weight makes you jump up a bit before looking up. He finds you in your first position you had started with when you first stepped foot into the home gym. He can feel his cock press harshly against his white shorts. “Why are you…” He trails off when your mouth drops open, brows scrunching together. Your thighs beg to be kissed. Slippery arms tug your legs closer to you as you giggle. 
“My legs are too tight.” His chest tightens. “Help me get more flexible?” you press innocently as you signal for him to push your legs. “Please, Maxie.”
Sighing, he nods. As soon as he steps close to you, he can feel your pouring lust, fuck me eyes staring back up at his frame. Grabbing the heels of your feet, he pushes back as you groan. “Oh shit.” You laugh, chest vibrating against the mat. “I really needed the extra push.”
He grimaces. A silence lingers between you two before you wiggle your left foot against his palm. He raises a confused brow. I’m going to tuck it to my chest. Just hold the right one. Doing as instructed, you sigh in relief, lashes fluttering. He holds back a much needed grunt. “You’re telling me you couldn’t do this yourself?”
You nip the air. “We’re not all professional athletes, Max. I needed you.”
You can see how hard your implication is hitting him as his gaze darkens. And just as he’s about to reach out for you, you wiggle your brows. Next leg. Snapping out of trance, he eyes the way your skirt rides down your skin. In a swift movement, he lets go and takes a staggered step back. You grin. What’s wrong?
“You’re crazy.”
Standing up, you place both hands on your waist. “Why?”
Max doesn’t even recall when he pins you against the wall, your hair flying from the impactful blow, and yet, you’re smirking. Kissing you harshly, you groan, leaning against your tippy toes as you struggle to breath. He seems to be lost in your lips as he cradles your face, teeth clashing against yours at the filthy action. “You’re so beautiful,” he pants, blues staring back. “So fucking beautiful.”
Whimpering, you reach back out for him, plump lips attacking his thick neck as he sighs. The purple bruises were definitely something he would hound you on tomorrow, but for now that was the least of his worries. Admiring the colorful spot, you lick it slowly. He shudders. 
“I can suck something else, you know?”
You almost don’t recognize his growl, for you haven’t heard it in so long, that it catches you by surprise as he spins you around, bending you over the nearest counter, where his wall of protein stands. He hitches your skirt up as you gasp when his fingers slide inside of you. The way he stretches you out makes you see stars as you struggle to keep upward. 
“Wore this just for me, right? You knew it would drive me crazy?” His long fingers curl at the perfect angle as you nod. Yes, yes. I wore it just for you. I knew you’d like it. You squeal when he lifts you up, tits pressing against the cold marble, legs dangling like a doll. His doll. He watches the way you swallow his digits. “I fucking love it, baby…”
Then, he’s down on his knees as he wraps his lips around your clit. Moaning loudly, you press your cheek against the cool tiles, saliva dripping out of your mouth at the sensation. In your fucked up state, you still reach out for him as he grabs your hand. “You taste so sweet,” he hums. You’re close to crying when he pulls away, but calm down when he thrusts into you. 
The Dutch throws his head back as soon as your velvety walls wrap around his cock, the way you swallow him whole. Makes him hate himself for holding onto his pride for so long. For keeping you away. His heart races when you prop yourself on your elbows as stare back at him with tired, lustful eyes. He grins, slapping your ass as you yelp. You ass tilts up as he watches you struggle to keep up. 
Warm hands come up to keep you close to him as you bite down on your lip. “You’re a fucking brat, but God, I hate it because you were right. I pushed him off. I did, I did, I did…” His dirty hair sticks against his face as you bounce forward with every pound. “But he was making you laugh - smile - and I just couldn’t handle that.”
Your heart stops. This was news to you because there was no way the Max you knew so well would break his winning streak all due to a friendly encounter. He pecks your bare shoulder. “I don’t think you understand how much I love you.”
“Then show me.”
WIth that, he holds onto your hips with more grip as his tip brushes repeatedly against your g-spot. You’re a mess, but he’s loving every second of it. As soon as he wraps a large hand around your breast, you’re gone, spluttering white all around him as he follows. With a croaky groan, he slips out as you fall back to your original spot. He chuckles. He fixes your skirt before helping you sit up to face him. Your eyes crinkle. 
“You love me,” you say in a sing-song voice as you poke his dimple. I thought I made that clear. You scrunch your nose, pecking his face all over with sloppy kisses. He playfully winces, but accepts nonetheless. “You love me, love me. Why would you ever worry about me and Lando? You know he’s just a friend.”
His smile drops as it's replaced with a scowl. “I wasn’t worried, per se. I don’t like someone else making you laugh. That’s my job.”
Your brows arch. “What are you suggesting? That I just keep mute for the rest of my days, unless I’m with you?”
Max shrugs. “Sounds like a solid plan.”
You smack his chest as he throws his head back with laughter. “No. Not a solid anything. Max, I love you.”
“I know,” he whispers. 
“Okay,” you confirm, fixing your posture, lips pursing. “But please never do that again, that’s just plain out dangerous and crazy. A big no-no, Emilian.” He glares and your lips wobble childishly. “You love wins, and I love celebrating them with you. It just works.”
“You know what doesn’t work?” he retorts as he hugs you. You hum, comfortable against his warmness. “Not talking to me for four months, what were you thinking?” You push him away abruptly. We spoke! “But we didn’t fuck, and that’s the same thing.”
Crossing your arms, you roll your eyes as he stares back in awe. “If you keep this up then I’m going to crank it up to eight,” you threaten. 
The Dutch nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck before you cave in. “Let’s not do that. You’d be breaking my heart.”
taglist: @myownwritings @d3kstar @crucifiedbitch
*note: i've only tagged those who asked to be included in general. i've kept that apart from the method acting series taglist!! lmk in which you would like to be, just in case!
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starryeyedjanai · 14 days
Text
Steve and Eddie meet through their local buy-nothing-sell-nothing group when Steve’s getting ready to move in with Robin and he realizes he can't keep everything he owns while trying to merge households with her.
The first time they meet, Steve hadn't even been meaning to actually meet the person picking up the free toaster oven he’s giving away.
He’s setting his toaster oven outside his house on the porch when Eddie hops out of his van to pick it up and it would be rude to duck back inside without saying anything since he obviously sees him coming up, so they make small talk for a minute and Steve has to keep his eyeballs in check because they keep wanting to rake all the way down this guy’s body.
He’s covered in tattoos and so extremely Steve's type, but he knows better than to hit on someone who lives in his neighborhood and is not here for that reason.
He laments to Robin about it the next day, about the hot guy who’s probably using Steve's toaster oven as they speak, who he’ll probably never see again.
Robin rolls her eyes fondly at him and tells him that maybe if he puts more stuff up for grabs on the facebook group, he might see him again, but Steve suspects she just wants him to get rid of more of his stuff so it doesn't overcrowd their new apartment.
The set of items he puts up in the group next is an old blender and a butcher block that has three of the knives missing—seriously where did those knives go? He has yet to find them.
He tries to pretend he isn't secretly hoping Eddie will comment under his post that he wants the items, but he isn't fooling himself when his heart literally skips a beat when the first comment is from Eddie. He messages him and tells him to stop by later that day.
When Eddie shows up, they talk for longer than last time, Eddie asking why Steve needs to get rid of so much stuff and Steve asking why Eddie needs all this stuff—especially considering Steve snooped through the group and saw that Eddie joined over a year ago and hadn't once commented before now (he doesn't mention that thought, but he is thinking it real hard).
Eddie laughs and says he was in the market for a toaster oven when Steve posted one and wouldn't you know it? He also needs a blender—the knife set is just a bonus, he says.
Steve tries not to read too much into it, but his brain is spinning the interaction around in his head for the next week.
He puts up a space heater in the group and within minutes, Eddie has claimed it.
“I should just get your number and text you directly when I find something I want to get rid of next time,” Steve says flippantly when Eddie comes by to grab it that night. “Instead of clogging up the facebook group.”
Eddie smirks at him and steps a little closer. He says, “Maybe you should.”
His neighbor’s car alarm decides to go off right at that moment, ruining the flirty atmosphere with its incessant shrill. They can barely hear each other over the drone of it, so Eddie leaves without giving Steve his number and Steve is left feeling like he keeps having these missed connection moments with Eddie.
In a fit of desperation to see Eddie again, Steve puts up a bunch of random stuff in the group the next day—a shoe rack that’s missing a piece, a step stool, a cheap side table he got from Ikea—and Eddie is still the first person to comment like he’s been refreshing the page, just waiting for Steve to post.
“I left without giving you my number last time and I didn't want to be creepy and message you unprompted,” Eddie says as they load the side table into his van. “I think I was overthinking things and then got kind of spooked.”
“It doesn't look like anything could spook you,” Steve says.
When they get the side table inside the back of the van, Eddie turns to him and admits, “A very pretty boy could.”
Steve can feel his face getting hot. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks.
Eddie nods. “Why do you think I keep coming here? There's no way a person who’s lived here for as long as I have would need all this stuff.”
“Did you need any of it?” Steve asks in a teasing voice. “Or were you just so blown away by how cute my profile picture is that you just had to meet me?”
“Oh, I needed the toaster oven, but everything after that was just to see you again,” Eddie says before biting his lip.
There’s an entire swarm of butterflies in his stomach when Eddie's hand brushes his, when Steve takes Eddie's hand in his and leads him inside his box-filled house.
Later, when they’re making out on Steve's couch—when Steve really should still be packing since he has to move in less than a week—he pulls back to ask, “Wait, so are you gonna put the rest of the stuff you don't need back up for grabs in the group? I feel like that would start so much neighborhood gossip.”
Eddie grins wide and Steve wants to kiss him again, wants to feel his smile against his mouth.
“Oh, we’ll be the talk of the town, baby,” Eddie says, pulling him back in.
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changbinlov3r · 1 month
Text
You are my favorite
Pairing: Lee Know x afab!reader
Part 2 of Can I be your favorite?(Recommended to read the first part for context)
Genre: smut, fluff, angst(the tiniest bit)
Summary: you let your insecurities come in between your new relationship with Minho, luckily for you though, he's not gonna let you run away so easily.
Words count: 3,076
THIS CONTENT IS +18, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Warnings: oral(f. receiving), unprotected piv(wrap it before you tap it ffs), creampie, marking, hickeys, dirty talk(barely), Minho is possessive asf(is it even my fic if he's not possessive?), reader is insecure
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You were sore when you woke up the next morning — or should you say, afternoon? It was already 2pm when you opened your eyes, finding Minho's place empty by your side.
You look around the room, now there's enough light coming from the windows for you to be able to see the room. You don't know how to explain it but it fits Minho perfectly, the decoration is discreet but not basic and it shows a lot of his personality, more than you're aware of.
You get up, not really sure what you're supposed to do. So you collect your things and start getting dressed, tying your hair in a ponytail to try and conceal the mess.
When you open the door, you look around before getting out, not sure if you're going to find someone and a bit embarrassed to be going away at this hour. You get down the stairs, walking past the kitchen at a quick pace but before you can turn the knob, you hear a voice behind you.
“Minho, your girl is trying to escape”, he yells, making you spin on your heels quickly looking at the telltale just to find a boy, who you're sure is Jeongin, the youngest of the frat house.
“Never thought you would be the type to smash and dash”, your crush says, popping out of the kitchen.
“I'm not!” You defend yourself, crossing your arms.
“That's not what it looks like to me”, he shrugs.
“I was just looking for you”, you lie and he scoffs, walking towards you.
“You shouldn't lie, princess”, he leans closer to you, making you gulp. “I don't like liars”, he whispers. Smirking when he sees your breath quickening and the way you lick your lips nervously. “Anyways, you can go if you want. I'll pick you up at 8”
“F-for what?” You ask, trying to recompose yourself.
“I told you I was going to take you out for dinner, didn't I?”
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"I can't believe you're really going on a date with Minho”, Jihyo says, clapping excitedly while she searches for something in your wardrobe.
“I don't why he wants to go on a date with me”
“‘cause you're hot?” Your best friend says, as if it's obvious.
“He has a hundred other hot girls to take on dates”, you scoff, making Jihyo throw a pillow at you.
“Stop with the self depreciation, he doesn't want the other girls, he wants you. So get your ass over here so I can help you with your makeup”
You were hopeful but didn't think Minho would actually do as he promised. At exactly 8pm, you heard a knock on the door and Jihyo squealed, giving you a thumbs up and sending you to your date.
Minho was looking exceptionally handsome in all black, hands tucked in the pockets of his pants. He stares at you up and down with a grin on his lips.
“You look good”, he tells you, enjoying seeing your cheeks turning a dark shade of red.
“Y-you look nice too”, you say, stepping outside and closing the door behind you.
You are seated in front of him, not really sure what to do next, you two ordered your food and some expensive wine that you never heard about. The ride to the restaurant was a bit awkward, you felt the need to say something but didn't know what to say so you talked about the weather not realizing that he liked seeing you trying, nervous like a bunny being hunted by a predator, him.
“So, what's your major?” He asks, taking you out of your thoughts. He's resting his face on his hand while watching you fidget on your seat.
“Engineering”, you answer, sipping on the glass of water the waiter poured to you.
“That's interesting”, he smiles. “I'm a dance major”, he tells you.
“I know”, you say without thinking, covering your mouth immediately. “I mean, everyone knows”, you smile sheepishly.
“Ah, yes. You like me, right?” He smirks, proudly, making your face turn as red as a tomato.
“Please, stop saying that, it's embarrassing”, you hide your face in your hands.
“It's embarrassing that you like me?” He chuckles, tilting his head.
“You were not supposed to know that”, you clarify, “it's pathetic that I have feelings for someone who didn't even know I existed until last night”, you sigh.
“I clearly knew you existed, since I knew that you like me”, he teases. “I don't think it's pathetic, the heart wants what it wants”
“Is that why you dated all those girls?” You ask, naively, making his eyes grow wide. He didn't think you'd be that straightforward.
“No, I'm not one to rejected a nice looking girl”, he shrugs, “they just didn't manage to be more than that to me, but I'm sure they can be something more for someone else”
“Ah”, you nod, feeling awkward.
“Do you want to date me?” He asks nonchalantly like he's asking how was your day, making you choke on the water you just drank.
“What?” You ask, shocked.
“I think I was very clear”, he answers, scowling.
“Why would you want to date me?”
“I guess you heard me well”, he teases, “you're my type”, Minho clarifies.
“I don't think I'm, though”, you oppose.
“I think I know better than you who is or is not my type”
“I mean, I'm not pretty like your other girlfriends”, you push.
“Firstly: why would I want someone just like the people I broke up with? Second: I think you're pretty”
You feel your whole face hot, covering your mouth instantly so he doesn't see the stupid smile you have on your lips.
“Also, I like fucking you”, he ruins the moment, smirking, “I wanna keep doing that”
“What a gentleman”, you roll your eyes, ignoring the heat growing on your lower stomach. He doesn't need to know that you'd give anything for him to fuck you right now on the restroom of the restaurant.
“I can be one”, he stretches his arm, grabbing your hand, caressing it. “Or I can be the opposite of that, it's your call”, he shrugs.
That's precisely how you ended up fucking on the restaurant’s restroom. He pulled you inside the confined space, bending you on the sink and before you could prepare yourself his cock was inside of you.
“Fuck, kitten”, he groans, covering your mouth, not slowing down his thrusts. “You have to be quiet if you don't wanna get caught”, you nod, crying out, seeing his smirk through the reflection of the mirror.
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You ended up dating him. It's not like it's a sacrifice for you or anything but you couldn't wrap your head around the reason that the Lee Minho would want to date you of all people. People's reaction was different from the one you expected too, they didn't really care, thinking he was going to dump you in a week.
However, to their surprise and especially yours, he didn't. Minho never even brought up the idea of breaking up and when you realized, two months had already passed.
After two months you still couldn't believe you were dating him and how hot he is, you always thought he was the most handsome man you ever saw but dating him hits differently. Now you can see him after a shower, coming out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his hip, his muscular chest bare for you to drool over. He cooks for you, making your favorite foods or some you never ate before. He brings you snacks and makes side dishes for you to eat at home. Minho picks you up before class and takes you back home after or he invites you to sleep over at the frat. You're already acquainted with all his friends, they even come looking for you to show you things when you're in the house. It makes you wonder if they acted like that with all of his girlfriends. Two months of the sweetest romance and the best sex you've ever had.
At least it was. You're not going to deny it, you're insecure. Minho is someone you never thought you could reach, so to be his girlfriend? It's something you never imagined. As he told you before, he has a great number of options, so the possibility that he'll replace you anytime, scares you.
You try forgetting about that, try not to overthink, until you find him at the library with a girl all over him. She's beautiful, perfect skin and shiny hair, she's hanging too close to him, touching his arm and throwing her head back in an exaggerated laugh. She's actually touching him at any chance she gets and you're there paralyzed like an idiot, watching it.
You feel the tears brimming in your eyes and you turn around and walk to the opposite side. You are his girlfriend, you should definitely step in, but in all honesty, you are too scared. Scared he'll look at you like you are nothing, that he's finally going to look at you with cold eyes like you have been waiting for it to happen.
You don't talk to him for days, avoiding meeting with him and ignoring his calls. You know it's childish to just ignore someone like that but you just needed to prepare yourself for the dreadful conversation you were about to have. It's going to be for the best if you two break up, he can go back to the way he lived before and you can stop worrying about when he's going to get tired of you.
It's not a surprise when Minho shows up at your door, you expected that to happen but wasn't expecting his appearance. He has his hair disheveled, deep eye bags under his eyes and he looks furious.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asks, angrily, not even greeting you and storming inside your apartment like a hurricane. “Why did you disappear?”
“I needed to think”, you murmur, closing the door behind you.
“Think about what? You should at least have answered my texts”, he huffs, taking his jacket off and throwing it on the couch.
“About us”, you answer him, making his face soften a bit.
“What about us?” He asks, tilting his head in confusion.
“I think it's best if we break up”, you tell him at once, not really capable of dragging this conversation for too long, it was already so hard to say that sentence, you are about to cry at any minute.
“What are you on about?” He frowns, taking a step closer to you, but you take a step back.
“I'm trying to make the right decision for the both of us”, you sigh, “it's not like this is going to last anyways, you should go find someone who's on your level”
He scoffs, breathing a laugh. You expected any other reaction of him, but that one was not included.
“So that is what this is about”, he starts walking towards you and you start stepping back, until you bump into the kitchen table with nowhere else to run. Minho gets closer to you, looking down on you as he cages you between the table and his body.
“My kitten is insecure, is that it?” He asks, making you blush with the pet name. Minho never gets tired of making you flustered.
“I'm not”, you lie, avoiding his gaze.
“You know I don't like liars”, he tells you, “but I guess it's on me, if I did a better job as your boyfriend you wouldn't be feeling like this’, he pouts.
“You are a great boyfriend”, you murmur, trying not to look into his eyes, he's too close.
“Hm? I am?” He teases. “Then what's it, kitten, did you find someone more interesting than me?” He smiles, it was supposed to be a joke but the way your eyes widened with that simple suggestion makes him a bit mad. “Is that it?” He asks, narrowing his eyes to stare at you.
“No, there's no one like that”, you tell him.
“Then why did you hesitate?”, he raises his brows in questioning. You were just too shocked to answer right away but he doesn't let you tell him that. “Nice way to make me angry”, he scoffs. “I told you I can be a fucking gentleman so why do you always make me be the opposite of that?” He asks, taking a step closer to you and pressing his body against yours. His hands slide around your waist, caging you even more in his hold.
“Minho, I-”, you try to speak but he tsks, interrupting you.
“You need to learn a lesson”, he tells you, leaning closer and brushing his lips on your cheek, trailing it down to your jaw and then your neck. “You are mine”, he whispers before attaching his mouth to your neck, biting on your skin so hard you whine with the pain.
His hands slide down to your ass, squeezing it and pulling you up, to sit on the table. You were on your pjs already ready to sleep and that makes his access to your body easier, the thin fabric of your clothes can barely block the warmth coming from his body to yours.
Minho pops open his dress shirt, letting it slide and fall on the floor, watching your reaction to him. You bite on your bottom lip, staring at his muscular chest. He always looks so good, you feel like moaning just by looking at him.
“Min…”, you murmur, spreading your legs wide for him. It's not like you can resist him anyways.
“There you are”, he smiles, unbuckling his pants and letting it fall down at his feet, “my needy girl”
You avoid his eyes, pulling your shirt off to reveal your bare chest to him.
“You look so hot, all spread for me like this”, he smiles, getting on his knees. Minho pulls the waistband of your shorts and panties down, watching your glistening cunt in excitement. “Is this because of me or are you thinking about someone else?” He pushes, finally seeing you look at him, shaking your head frantically.
“It's all you, the only one I think about is you”, you confess, feeling your cheeks hot.
Minho grins, putting your legs over his shoulders and kissing your inner thighs. He licks your pussy slightly, just teasing you, making you put your hands on his head to force him against your core.
You can feel him smile, licking a long strip between your folds, attaching his lips to your clit next. Minho slides his hand between your legs, inserting two fingers inside of you, going in and out while he sucks your aching core, grunting and groaning with you pulling on his hair and he watches as you become undone in his mouth.
You can feel your orgasm coming, your toes curl immediately and you buck your hips against his mouth desperately, chasing your high and when the knot on your lower stomach finally explodes, you moan loudly, trembling in his embrace.
Minho stands up, cleaning around his mouth with his fingers and then licking on them.
“Still my favorite taste”, he smirks. You look stunning with your soft lips parted and hair disheveled, your chest rises and falls in a fast rhythm.
“This is going to be the last time I'll let you have your way”, you try looking the least bit believable while stating that, but that only makes him chuckle, stroking his cock a few times before he comes closer to you.
“And that only proves that you still haven't understood the situation you're in”, he tells you, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock while he waits for you to stop him but you don't, you want to feel him inside you so fucking much that it seems like you're going crazy. He pushes in, feeling your cunt squeezing him deliciously. “Fuck”, Minho murmurs. Your arms wrap around his waist, burying your nails in his skin, the snap of his hips against yours making you breathless.
He kisses you, feeling your sweet lips against his only adds to the building up of his orgasm, you look so pretty, you're perfect for him, your pussy is perfect for him, he won't let you end things with him that easily.
He pulls away from you for a moment, your mouth is parted and your eyes are glossy, he wants to hold you forever.
“I'm in love with you”, he confesses, thrusts faltering a bit. Your eyes grow wide to his sudden revelation. “You won't get rid of me that easily, kitten”, he groans, pressing his lips against yours one more time.
That's enough for you to cum, squirming and trembling in his embrace, while you watch him breathlessly thrust inside of you, eyes locked with yours.
“Do it inside”, you cry out, overstimulated after your second orgasm. Minho groans, bending towards you and kissing you, spilling his hot cum inside you while he bites on your lips.
He rests his head on your shoulder, breathless, trying to recompose himself.
“Don't ever talk about breaking up, ever again”, he pulls away to look at you, finding your eyes brimming with tears.
“But I saw that girl hitting on you the other day at the library”, you pout, making him sigh, cupping your face with both of his hands.
“Yes, she was hitting on me but I told her I have a really smart, hot girlfriend and that I was not interested”, he tells you, making you feel like the greatest idiot in the world.
“I'm sorry, I should have checked with you first”, you say, “I just love you so much, I'm scared you're going to dump me”, you confess, making him chuckle. His heart beating like crazy, it's the first time you openly say you love him.
“Y/n, you're stuck with me for a long time”, he gives you a peck on the lips, “I won't ever do anything to hurt you, okay?”
You nod, feeling warmth spreading all over your chest.
“Now, you better prepare yourself, ‘cause you need to receive some punishment for disappearing and making me worry”, he tells you, showing you that devilish smirk of his and before you can run to save yourself, Minho is picking you up and dragging you to your room.
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tiredsadpeach · 1 year
Text
I’ve convinced myself my friends don’t wanna hear me so I’m posting this here instead of my twt because I’m excited and need to say something
#I’ve been playing so much Pokémon scarlet and don’t worry no story stuff here I’ve mostly been shiny hunting now since my living Dec is done#but so I watch austinjohnplays a lot like ever since around let’s go came out? idk for sure and idk why I just love his stuff#also like half of the poketubers I’ve run into annoy the hell out of me because I’m picky and crazy#ANYWAY Austin John came up with the isolated encounter method for shiny hunting in SV and recently tested some methods floating around where#you can choose your outbreaks which is really cool and would be good for people who don’t farm herba mystica but want encounter power 3 type#effects yknow because raids are annoying I personally don’t like them tbh#and I was isolated encounter shiny hunting and the day rolled over and I got an outbreak of the exact Pokémon I was isolated encounter#hunting so like… what if that influences it too like if you have an encounter power on and go to a certain spot and then roll the day forwar#you can force a outbreak so I tested it and sent it to him and I’m so !!!!!!! AAAAAA because Pokémon is a hf of mine and by proxy his videos#have also become a hf of mine like unless im really Really not interested I watch Eveey Single One#so the fact I could help discover something about my favorite game TO my favorite youtuber of that game IS JUST#I can’t explain how excited I feel#I hope he sees the message I sent it on Instagram#I couldn’t message his twt for some reason#fingers crossed omg im gonna spin in circles
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strawberrysturniolo · 3 months
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i love the whole ‘best friends who ‘accidentally’ had sex’ type of concept and it really fits chris 😭 like imagine attending the end of the summer cookout marylou and jimmy have every year, you and chris decide to have wine coolers because why not?
next thing you know….
never grow up // chris sturniolo
summary: you and your childhood best friend reunite after months apart. after a couple of drinks, secrets start spilling, leading to lust that has been put on the back burner for years part 2
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Chris and I have been inseparable since the day we met. With us living on the same street growing up, we were always together. If there was a picture taken of one of us as a kid, chances are the other one was in the background trying to photobomb. 
Watching Chris and his brothers make the move to LA was hard. I sat back and supported my best friend, but it sucked knowing that our fault routine of being together after school and having sleepovers was coming to an end.
It all happened so fast. One minute he was there, and the next he was gone. 
The love I have for Chris is unlike anything else in the world. I love Nick, and I adore Matt, but it’s different with Chris. We connect in different ways. We trust each other differently. I’ve never had a friendship like it, and I don’t think I ever will. We always joked about being in each other's weddings. He wanted me to stand with all the groomsmen, and I told him he could stand with the girls. 
We had our lives planned together, and I never thought I’d have to see us fade away from each other. 
We try to talk as much as possible, but with his ridiculous sleep schedule mixed with his work life and time zones, it’s mostly scattered snapchats that keep us from forgetting what the other person looks like. 
A tradition growing up was going to his house for the end of the year cookout. When we were little we would play in the pool, seeing who could collect the most shark toys and torpedoes that we launched into the bottom, and as we got older it turned into chicken fights, then us floating around the pool, asking each other questions about life. 
“Do you ever think about what would happen if your husband didn’t like me?” he had asked me on a sunny day in Massachusetts when we were 16. 
“Yeah,” I said, dragging my hand through the water to cool myself down. “I’d tell him to fuck himself, and if he doesn’t love my best friend like a brother, then I want no part of him. You’ll always come first.”
He gave me that classic, cheesy grin of his and then splashed a wave of water against me, knocking me from my float. 
He’s not coming this year. He’s busy at work in LA. I can feel him drifting away. 
As I help his parents set up some of the food trays, I hear their side door open by the kitchen. I don’t bother looking up, knowing guests have been coming and going all day. It isn’t until two arms wrap around me from behind that my eyes shoot open. 
“Miss me?”
Chris. 
I spin around, staring at him with my jaw dropped. I can see his mom out of the corner of my eye, smiling at us. She must have known about this. I’m sure he told his mom. 
“Oh my god,” is all I can bring myself to say. My eyes start to well with tears. I haven’t seen him since last Christmas. I missed his birthday. He missed me. Our times were always off. 
He squeezed me as our bodies clung to each other. “Don’t cry, you’ll make me cry, Sunny.”
Sunny. The nickname he gave me when we were little, which came from Sunshine. We were 8, swinging on a playground. He had a bad day. We played together after school and he told me whenever he feels sad, his day always gets sunnier with me around. He always was able to make me feel loved and appreciated as his friend, and as we got older, that only grew. 
I know he loves me. He just needed to chase his dream. That doesn’t mean he loves me any less than he ever did. 
“I missed you so much,” he says, holding me even tighter than before. 
“I missed your voice.”
“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I need to make an effort to call you more. I’m just so-“
“Busy,” I finish for him. “I know.”
His face falls. “Yeah.”
I don’t want him to feel bad for what he’s doing. He deserves something so amazing. He’s worked so hard for it. 
“You’re here now though,” I smile. “Can we just pretend like you’ve been here and you never left?”
He smiles softly, nodding. “Yeah.”
I sit by his side for hours, smiling at him as he fills everyone in on what’s he’s been up to. He’s the talk of the town. Everyone is amazed to see him and his brothers do such big things. 
Everyone erupts into laughter when Chris tells his stories, and when Matt and Nick add on more anecdotes, the house is filled with pure joy and love for these boys we watched grow up. 
“I’m gonna get a drink,” Chris says, excusing himself. “You want anything?” he points to me. 
“Whatever you get for yourself is fine,” I nod, adding on a thank you before he leaves. 
He comes back with two Pepsi cans. I notice they’re already opened, but I don’t think anything of it. Knowing Chris, I fully expect him to have drank some of mine, and that’s him trying to be funny. 
My face puckers at the taste of wine in my can. 
He emptied the Pepsi out and poured wine in it instead. 
He smiles next to me, trying not to laugh. 
A memory of us from when we were 14 comes back to me, and I know that’s what he’s trying not to laugh about. 
“Chris! We can’t take their wine!”
“My parents have like 20 bottles. They never drink. These are all Christmas gifts from other people. I promise they won’t notice,” he assured me. 
I watched as he poured the glasses half full. It seemed like far too much. 
“Try it,” he said, nudging a glass to me. “It’s disgusting.”
I took a hesitant sip. This was fucking awful, but I found myself drinking more at the idea of the thrill. We were doing something we weren’t supposed to, which made the alcohol taste even better. 
A half hour later we were both stumbling up to his bedroom, and I managed to make it to the bathroom before throwing up, almost missing his toilet. 
He held my hair back and apologized for giving me alcohol. He promised he wouldn’t tell anyone we drank. And he never did. 
“Doesn’t taste as bad now, huh?” he asks, snapping me out of my memory. 
I roll my eyes and take another sip. He’s right. 
Once everyone leaves for the night, my family stays back to help Chris’ parents clean up, and my parents were offered a plethora of leftovers.
When Chris showed up, it was a no-brainer that I would be staying here tonight, so he led me upstairs while everyone else said their goodbyes. 
“Shhh,” he hushed me as my giggles flooded the hallway. I’m definitely tipsy, but I’m completely coherent. I think most of my giggles come from the fact that he’s back in Boston. I’m just giddy and happy. 
“Sorry!” I apologize anyway, even though he’s not bothered by the sound of my laughter. He smiles at it. He loves it. 
He lays out a pair of pajamas for me like he always used to. It’s an old shirt from our high school with his lacrosse number on it, and a pair of his boxers. 
I find myself thinking about the girls he had been with that were jealous of what I had with him. Me and Chris had never even kissed, so to think he would be accused of so much more with me was ridiculous. He never failed to stand up for me though. He could have the number one girl, someone perfect for him, and he’d say goodbye to him if they said one bad thing about me. 
We will always be rooting for each other no matter what. 
“Tomorrow we should actually do some stuff around town,” he says as he changes into something to sleep in. “I’ve been traveling all day and I’m so fucking tired. I just want to lay in bed.” He finishes his statement and flops down on the bed, laying his head next to my thighs.
“I really missed you, Chris. A lot,” I respond, ignoring his suggestion. 
He sits up next to me, looking down at me in his clothing. “I know, Sunshine. I missed you just as much. More, probably.” 
I felt safe with him again, a feeling that had been lost as we spent months and months apart. I craved moments like these, where we would stay up together and laugh. 
The mood in his room shifts when he says, “What ever happened with you and Aaron?”
He knows what happened. I told him before I told anyone else. 
He broke up with me with no explanation, and I was left heartbroken and confused. I wanted nothing more than a hug from Chris, but 3,000 miles kept that from happening. 
“We’re not talking anymore,” I remind him. I really don’t want to be talking about boys right now, but it seems that’s the topic of conversation that is interesting to him most. “Any girls that have your attention in LA?”
He shrugs. “Not really. They’re cool, some are cute, but I don’t know. I don’t think I wanna do anything with any of them.”
Chris has always been very anti-relationships, but that never stopped him from having his fair share of fun. He always made sure they were on the same page that it was just benefits, sometimes not even friends. I am curious what turns him away from exploring with girls in LA. “Why not?” 
“They just don’t have what I’m looking for. I want someone who understands me and what I want, but only a few people get that,” he explains. “I don’t know. I don’t want to waste my time with someone if I know from the jump that it feels like a waste. And I think about you, and how we are, and I don’t think I’ll ever be that close with anyone else. I don’t want to be. I don’t want to think about someone ever taking your place.”
“You can set limits,” I suggest. “But don’t keep yourself from meeting people because you’re worried about me feeling replaced. I won’t ever feel that way. I just want you to be happy.”
“Well, that’s not the only reason you’re a problem in it.”
There’s an ache in my chest at the thought of me being a part of a problem in his life. 
“What?”
“I just– There have been issues before… in the past… where girls have felt threatened by you,” he says, looking down at his fingers, where he picks at the dead skin nervously. “That’s not your fault by the way. It’s dumb. I just… I don’t know.”
I pull his hands away from him. “I love you, Chris.”
He smiles at me and says, “I love you too.”
Somehow, his feels different. 
I check the time on my phone, putting in beside me and announcing to him, “I’m gonna go to bed.”
Just like we always did, innocently of course, I placed the softest and quickest peck to his cheek closest to me. 
I did this as a kid, mostly because Chris would freak out if his mom didn’t give him a kiss goodnight. He insisted that it kept the bad dreams away, and he would ask me to do the same for him when he spent the night at my house. 
So I kissed his cheek like always. 
I tried to.
But Chris moved his head.
His lips graze mine. There isn’t much contact, but there’s enough for me to know that we just kissed, barely. 
He knows exactly what he just did, yet he’s looking at me like he’s shocked. 
I’m not drunk, but maybe this is acting as liquid courage. That’s what I tell myself when I fully grab my best friend’s cheeks and press my lips to his. He lets out a deep breath against me, holding the back of my neck and fisting a handful of my hair. 
What are we doing? I’m kissing my best fucking friend. My best friend of 15 years. 
I’m lost in my own head, completely out of it until I feel him lay on top of me, pinning my arms over my head with one hand as he kisses down my neck with the other. 
I lift my chin, giving him more room to kiss me.
He finishes placing wet kisses to my skin, then puts his lips back on mine. His full lips overtake mine, but we form a rhythm that has my chest tightening. He kisses me slowly, but the more tongue we add to the mix, the louder it sounds. 
We make out for some time. I lose all track of it. I don’t even know if I’m in reality anymore. My hips aimlessly lift up to try to find something to create friction against. I almost forgot who I was kissing until he pulled back and said, “We’re entering dangerous territory here, Sunshine.”
“What do you want to do then?”
He falls silent, and I fully expect him to lay down next to me and pretend this never happened.
He does the opposite. 
“I would never be doing this if it wasn’t something I had thought about for years.”
My heart feels like it’s pounding out of my chest. 
Everyone who watched us grow up together is in this house. 
And he’s pinning me down to the bed kissing me in the same room we used to play in. 
“Then do something about it,” I taunt.
He loves this invitation.
Going zero to one hundred, Chris sits up, pulling his shirt off and tossing it beside me. I’ve seen him shirtless a million times. Hell, I’ve seen his bare ass. This is different though. So much different. 
He puts his lips back on mine as his hands slide to the bare skin under my shirt. Without a second thought, I remove it, completely forgetting that I don’t have a bra on. 
His eyes focus on my body, his jaw slacked and his cheeks turning red. 
“Holy shit.”
I instinctively try to cover myself somehow. He grabs my arms and pulls them back down. 
“No no,” he shakes his head. “Let me admire you, pretty girl.”
He kisses me softly down my chest, flicking his tongue over my nipples before sucking them into his mouth, all while he’s rubbing his hand on my inner thigh.
I shift my hips, positioning his hand right over where I need him the most. He stares up at me in awe as I give him this sign of approval, and without wasting any time, he dives his hand into the boxers around me. His underwear. I mimic his movements, dropping my hand through the waistband of his shorts and swiping my thumb over the tip of his hardened cock. He winces at my touch, gasping out of desperation. 
“Please,” he whines. “Don’t start something you can’t finish. I’m begging you.”
I yank his shorts down, having the same reaction to his dick that he did to my boobs. I lay below him in shock, mostly baffled by the fact that he’s hung, but also the fact that we’re in this situation. 
When he gets nervous from my staring, he places soft kisses to my lips again, like he’s trying to put my attention elsewhere. 
“Sunshine,” he pants. “I can’t… If we’re gonna do this… I can’t wait,” he breathes out. “I need you now.”
I stroke him slowly, watching his stomach heave. “Have me then.”
In an instant he has my boxers and underwear on the floor in one fluid motion, spreading my legs and laying between them.
“Can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me,” he whispers. He touches my dripping folds carefully, then licks his finger clean. “Fuck, you’re perfect. Always have been.”
I’m in my most vulnerable state. Not only am I naked in front of a man, but this is the guy who has watched me grow up. He has seen me through every stage of life, and now he’s about to be touching me, fucking me. 
“Chris,” I say his name quickly, urgently, like I’m running out of time to say anything.
He looks down at me, pausing from where he was lining himself up between my legs. 
I love you.
He smiles and says, “I know,” before putting my legs over his shoulders and pushing himself inside of me. 
My fist clenches a nearby pillow as my body adjusts to him stretching me out. Chris gasps out in pleasure and shock from this entire experience. He drops his face into my neck, letting me hear his soft moans as he feels me clenching, throbbing around him. 
When I give him the okay, he starts thrusting into me slowly, both of us silent, letting the sound of our skin finding each other ring in our ears. 
I’m having sex with my best friend. 
He places a kiss on my thigh, where it rests next to his face. Then, he pushes one of my legs out, spreading me open more.
“Fuck!” I cry out, the sound quickly masked by Chris’ mouth, where he places his lips over mine again to shut me up. 
“Gotta be quiet, Sunny,” he warns me. I nod, and he puts his hand over my mouth, making sure I keep the volume down. 
His dick hits every spot perfectly. His body clings to mine as our orgasms are in sight. I find myself begging for him, moaning his name, something I never would have expected from us. 
Chris sits up on his knees, pressing my knees to my chest as he pounds into me, his face staring down with a dominant gaze, watching his dick fill me as my cum drips around him.
“Fuckkk,” he groans. “Such a dirty girl.”
All self control leaves me when I don’t bother hesitating as I respond with, “Yours.”
He nods, speeding up his pace. His thrusts become sloppier, much sloppier. “All fucking mine,” he reminds me, then pulls himself out of my pussy and strokes himself through his orgasm, letting himself finish on my lower stomach.
He quickly gets a towel and cleans me up before he places his head on my boobs. My hands dig into his hair, running my hands through his loose curls. 
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Sunshine, you know that?”
I smile to myself, but I also know that we completely fucked up us ever having a normal friendship after this. 
My best friend and I fucked. 
And he doesn’t do relationships. 
“You’re my favorite,” I whisper back. 
He places a kiss to my stomach, and I can feel the smile on his face when he does so.
I don’t smile. I know that with our decision tonight, we lost one side of our relationship. 
We either become romantic and it gets fucked up and we lose a friendship too, or our friendship becomes awkward and crumbles because of this. 
Neither of us thought about that before we got ourselves tangled up in each other, and I’m doing everything I can to forget about that fear and focus on the boy I’ve been in love with for years laying on my chest. 
tag list: @secret-sturniolo @chrisloyalgf @strnilo @draculaura123 @jellybeanbby @qwertytit @55sturn @sleepysturnss @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturnvvz @swaggygirlboss123 @angelworldspost @patscorner @ducksturniolo @mattitties @luv4kozume @mbbsgf @freshloveforthefit @ripmattitude @gamermattsgf @strniololoverr @urmom2bitch @sturnitup @luvmila444 @st7rnioioss @sturniolosreads @pepsiskiess @alorsxsturn @sturniolopepsi @sturnsgasoline @sturns-posts@sstvrnioloo @strawberrymilk4k @ratatioulle @kiibichio @nickmillersn1gf @milesfordays11 @l9vesick @mattsturnzzz09 @mattnchrisworld
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steventhusiast · 10 months
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modern au where eddie and robin are roommates and steve is italian <3
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eddie has always known that his roommate robin is in the US for college, but grew up in and is from italy. sure, sometimes he forgets, because she somehow has a near-perfect american accent and also speaks two other languages, but he’s always known.
and for the past year and a bit, he’s known how much robin wants her best friend stevie to come visit. she talks about them all the time, and ever since she and eddie moved out of the dorms and into an apartment together for their next year of university a month ago, he’s known stevie is going to come and visit.
he just kind of forgot the exact day stevie would be arriving.
so when he, clad in nothing but his garfield pyjama pants and a metallica t-shirt that’s falling apart, walks into the kitchen one morning and sees someone he doesn’t know at the kitchen counter fiddling with their instant coffee machine, he almost shits himself.
luckily, he doesn’t, because he remembers in that split second that stevie was due to arrive last night. but he still flinches pretty hard at the fright and grabs for the nearest grabbable thing, which turns out to be the doorframe. somehow, he makes a noise loud enough to get the mystery person’s attention, and they turn around.
holy shit. eddie did not know stevie is hot. or that stevie’s actually a guy. he kind of just assumed, with the nickname and all? but the man standing there looks like he could’ve been carved by the gods eddie doesn’t believe in, and- eddie realises he’s been staring at the guy for a few seconds now, and decides to talk like a normal human being. he first adjusts his position so he’s no longer holding onto the archway of the kitchen for support, and smiles at the guy.
“hi, you must be stevie?” he offers, and stevie takes a few seconds to process his words before nodding with a smile.
“my name is steve. robbie just is… hm, silly?”
eddie blinks a couple times, because steve has an accent. a thick one. he should’ve expected that, because- hello? they’re both literally from italy. but it catches him off guard, and adds to steve’s hot factor. why didn’t robin warn him about this.
“yeah, robin is very silly.” he agrees with a chuckle, and then realises steve might not know him, “i’m eddie. robin’s roommate. you probably knew that already though, so now i probably look like an idiot. well- more of an idiot than i already do in these clothes…”
he lets his words trail off as he realises steve is frowning at him in subtle confusion. he’s picked up robin’s rambling-when-nervous habit over their friendship, and hot guys tend to make him pretty nervous. but then he realises maybe steve isn’t as fluent in english as robin is, and even if he is eddie’s a fast talker that doesn’t always pronounce things fully.
“i am sorry,” steve looks embarrassed, “my english is not as good as robin.”
eddie feels so guilty at the pink that’s made itself known on steve’s cheeks, and shakes his head immediately.
“no! you don’t need to be sorry. i just talk a lot when i’m nervous.” he confesses. why did he say that? now steve knows he’s nervous. or does he? maybe he didn’t catch his full sentence.
steve raises one eyebrow at eddie though, and one side of his mouth quirks up into a smile as he turns around to keep trying to make himself a cup of coffee.
“i am making you nervous? why?” steve asks, his back still turned. now eddie’s the one with red cheeks. dammit.
“it’s because eddie here thinks you’re hot, stevie.”
eddie’s flinch at robin’s magical appearance behind him is somehow more spectacular than earlier, and he clutches dramatically at his heart and spins around to glare at robin.
“robin! what the fuck, man!” he yelps when he realises what she’s said. but robin isn’t listening, she’s too busy speaking to steve in italian about who knows what.
probably about how she knows all eddie’s tells for when he finds a guy attractive and how she knows eddie’s type and steve checks every single box. or, eddie squints at the pair as robin tsks at steve and takes over manning the coffee machine, maybe robin’s just telling steve how to make a coffee with the machine?
“you think i am…” steve starts as he spins around to look at eddie, and seems to be searching for a word for a few moments, “attractive?”
eddie’s eyes widen, and then he sighs and fixes a glare on robin. robin just shrugs and makes a very insincere ‘oopsie’ expression, and eddie is about to start denying like his life depends on it, but he looks back at steve.
and steve has that blush back on his face, and a tiny smile, and he’s looking eddie up and down even in his ridiculous outfit.
“um, yes.” eddie practically squeaks, not used to having someone’s eyes on him like this.
steve says something to robin in italian that sounds like it ends with a question mark, and robin rolls her eyes.
“steve wants me to translate a pick up line he wants to use on you, but i literally refuse to do that. google translate is free.”
and with that, she leaves the kitchen.
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sunnyskiesscareme · 4 months
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My Heart’s Racing, and it isn’t the Exercise
Luke Hughes x reader
Summary: Luke Hughes has a gym crush, and his brother wants a sister in law
Warnings: there’s a reference to like… dropping a weight on his head to induce memory loss, you’ll understand if you read it 😭 other than that, nothing!! (Unless u include Luke embarrassing himself but that’s just cuz he’s a cutie patootie)
Notes: I’m so sorry I’ve barely posted!! Uni is kicking my ass. Still, I appreciate all the support on my previous fics!! Y’all are so kind!! Also, a lil reference to the readers job as a hairdresser
Luke was sure that if y/n wasn’t here, he’d cry.
He had explicitly told his brother that he needed to be at the gym within 10am-11:30am, and no later. He hadn’t told him why, exactly, but he thought he made himself pretty clear anyhow. It wasn’t like Jack to be late to anything, but Jack had expressed that he believed you couldn’t be late to the gym in the first place. To him, it was a personal pleasure. Luke would have agreed if it weren’t for the girl with the strict schedule, who went everyday, at the same time, with no exceptions.
He couldn’t explain that to Jack without the certainty of him telling the whole Devil’s team about his little crush, and suddenly the chirping would go beyond anything he’d ever live down. So instead, when Jack would roll his eyes at his brother with a comment about being uptight, Luke would bite back with a reminder that Jack had assigned certain coats to certain hooks in the entrance way. Surely, Luke was not the uptight one in that apartment.
Jack had only hurried things up when his brother threatened to leave without him, jingling his keys and walking to the door with exaggerated stomps. Still, they had only left the house at 10:41, and for reasons unbeknownst to Jack, Luke had refused to switch to the gym nearest their building. It was 10:53 when they got there, and Luke ignored his brothers scolds for his crooked parking job, rushing to check who was at the girl’s favourite machine. It was then that Luke realized he had never learned her name. Had she ever even had a full conversation with him?
She was there, in all of her beauty, but Luke didn’t crack a smile. Instead, he walked over to the chest press for his warmup as if he had never seen her. His sudden stop-and-stare session did not go unnoticed by his brother, who not so subtly squinted his eyes in her direction, trying to find what had his little brother so dazed. His eyes flickered to the dejected look on his face, back to the girl, and then to the foot that Luke was subconsciously tapping. A knowing grin grew on Jack's face before he wiped it off with the back of his hand, wringing his wrist out in an act of preparation for his dead-lift warmup. He halted when he began to pass by Luke, stomping his foot on the ground exaggeratingly as he turned to his brother.
"Luke, Luke," Jack said, bending down to reach ear level with him. "You see that girl over there? The one on the, uh, the walking thingy?"
"The elliptical." Luke corrected, a little bit too fast. He’d learned the name of the machine a while ago, just in case he needed it one day.
"Yeah, whatever. She's real pretty, huh?"
Luke's eyes met Jack's so fast it hurt, and he blinked a couple of times to make the room stop spinning. His knuckles turned white at the grip he had on the bars of the machine, despite having paused the lifting to speak to his brother. "What- why?"
"I think I’m gonna ask her out."
"No!" Luke yelped, and those in the gym who weren't wearing headphones or struggling to breathe with the intensity of their workout glanced over at him curiously. His cheeks burned bright red, and Jack had to repress a smirk. "She’s," he shook his head, "She's not even your type."
“What? Of course she is. You don’t think she’s pretty?”
“She’s-!” Luke started, chest puffed up and eyes wide as he went to defend the girl. That was, until the smile on his brothers face looked a little bit too evil to be classified as adoring, and Luke squinted his eyes at him. “What are you trying to do here?”
Jack let out a girlish giggle and gave him a smack to his knee. “I think you think she’s pretty!”
“Shut up!” He wacked his brother right back.
“I think you’ve beaten me to her!”
“Jack, stop.” Luke begged, gripping his brothers wrist strongly enough for Jack to wince, his eyes wide as saucers.
Jack snickered, wringing out his wrist. He glanced back at the girl, whose machine beeped as she finished her cool down. “C’mon! She’s done. Go talk to her!”
“What? No!” Luke refused, his voice much quieter and harsher than his brothers. “No, she’s leaving anyway.”
Jack glanced at the girl again, who had finally stepped off of the machine and stood in front of a window. Her silhouette was black as she tipped her head towards the ceiling to chug down some water. He looked back at Luke. “I don’t think so… looks like she’s just having a drink before her next workout.”
“No.” Luke shook his head, certainty in his movements. “It’s 11:30. This is when she leaves.”
Luke seemed to have not realized the weight his words held before he said them, and quickly made himself busy with his machine before Jack’s head jerked foreword, his jaw dropped far enough that if he had dared to look, Luke would be able to count all of his teeth.
“Woah, woah, wait a minute!” He said, stepping in front of his little brother so that he had no casual excuse for avoiding his gaze. “Is this why you’ve been whining every day about when we get here?”
Luke cringed, ending his first rep early to stick an earbud in his ear. “I’m working out. Can’t hear ya.”
“Oh my god!” Jack gaped, yanking the earbud back out. “This is why I have to go to a gym 15 minutes away from my apartment- that has a gym in the building?”
“It’s only 10, don’t be such a baby.” Luke groaned, seeing no point in trying to hide his little secret any longer.
“Oh my god. Luke, I’m being serious right now, if you don’t go talk to her- I will.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I would.”
Luke’s eyes worriedly flicked back to where she stood before, but let out a breath when she wasn’t there anymore. He didn’t know wether it was of relief or disappointment, but he forced himself not to dwell on the weird feeling in his chest. “She’s… She’s gone anyways.”
Jacks head whipped to the window and then back to his brother so fast that Luke was surprised he wasn’t in pain. He quickly promised himself he’d give him pain if he looked at him like that any longer- his brows slightly furrowed, eyes more pitiful than annoyed. Jack let out a soft huff. “Next time then.”
---
Jack was ready before Luke was the next morning, bouncing on the balls of his feet on the mat in front of the door. Luke walked sluggishly, something he hadn’t done since he had first seen her. He was sure this would be the last day at her gym- certain he’d be too humiliated to return.
“Could you wipe that look off your face, please?” Luke asked, annoyed.
His grin only grew, flashing his recently fixed straight white teeth. “Why would I? Todays the day- Lukey Boy is getting a girlfriend!”
Luke rolled his eyes.
The 10 minute car ride was mostly silent. To Jack, it had felt like the longest ride he’d ever taken, even with all of the complaints he’d given about the length of the drive in the past. This was most certainly the worst of them all. To Luke, it had been the shortest. He’d listed multiple plans for certain scenarios in his head, noting that if he really needed to, there were weights near the elliptical she used that he could drop on his head if he needed to forget he’d ever seen her. Maybe his brother would feel bad enough to never bring it up again. He planned to run a few fast miles on a treadmill beforehand, so that he could build up some adrenaline, and blame his red face on the exercise.
Jack walked in with a pep in his step, only stopping when his brother suddenly grabbed his wrist. His face was white and his eyes wide, and Jack had never seen him so scared to talk to a girl before. “She’s gonna think I’m a creep.”
“No she won’t! Just… don’t be a creep, and you’ll be fine.”
Luke releases his brothers wrist to run a stressed hand down his face. “I hate you.”
“Luke, it’s gonna be fine, I’m telling you.” Jack tried to reason. He sent him a funny smile, “Plus, you’re in the NHL. what girl would say no to that?”
Luke didn’t laugh, and Jack licked his lip awkwardly. “Buddy, just do it. There’s no use comforting you now- she hasn’t even rejected you yet!”
“Yet!”
“No!” Jack gripped Luke’s shoulders tightly. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Now go. Now. It’s time.”
Luke almost tripped, his feet too nervous to react to the push his brother gave him. He prayed that it was too bright outside to see the reflection in the window her machine overlooked, and that she didn’t see any of that. He stood awkwardly a safe distance away from her, looking back at his brother who gave him a not-so-subtle thumbs up.
She was changing the song coming through her headphones when she felt the presence of someone next to her. She turned, startled when someone was actually there. He was tall, but had a young, sweet face. His hair was long enough for him to have to push behind his ear and she could imagine him hating it. Most people with curly or wavy hair did, she had learned from work, but his was her favourite texture to cut and work with. She’d recognized him well. He seemed to have a similar schedule to her, and she had used him as proof to her friends that she wasn’t uptight. He was too handsome to look at, she had decided one day. She couldn’t afford a gym crush, not when she was doing so well with her gym streak. It would complicate things. She flicked an earbud out, giving him a friendly, but curious smile.
“Hi.” He said, the word breathy.
“Hi.” She said back with a slight chuckle. “Did you need something?”
“Oh! Sorry, uh,” she didn’t notice Jack watching them, cringing at the way his brother stuttered. “I was wondering… if I could use that machine.”
She blinked at him, eyes flickering to the 3 other ellipticals lining the large window, still and unused. She nodded anyway. “Uh, yeah! Sure!” She said, stepping off and beside the guy, who looked much taller from the new angle. “Are, are the other ones not working?”
“Uh-“
“Nope!” She jumped at the loud voice behind her, looking right in time for her to miss how Jack stepped on the machines cord, unplugging it. He smacked his hand on the buttons exaggeratedly, proving to her that it wouldn’t turn on.
“Oh! I’m sorry, I’ve been hogging the only working one, haven’t I?”
“No, no! You’re okay. Uh, I just, um-“
“My brother thinks you’re pretty!” Jack blurted out, cutting off his stuttering.
Luke looked mortified, shoulders curling in on himself. Y/n reddened, her lips unintentionally curling up into a giddy smile. “Oh! Thank you!” She let out a nervous chuckle. “Um, you’re his brother?”
“I’m so sorry.” He said instead of answering, and she hoped he didn’t look so sick because his brother lied.
“Don’t be! I’m,” she let out another nervous chuckle, “I’m very flattered.”
“You should let him buy you a smoothie from the drink bar.” Jack suggested, grinning wildly. Y/n felt brave under his enthusiasm.
“Jack!” Luke pleaded, fists balled up.
“He doesn’t have to pay.” She said, and she smiled awkwardly at their intense gazes. “Uh, I mean… are you thirsty?”
“You want to get a smoothie with me?”
“Well, sure! Only if you tell me your name though.” She giggled
He looked at her, his gaping lips turning up into a smile. “Luke.”
Luke had never loved his brother more. He hadn’t listened as he came up with some excuse for leaving the two of them alone. Something about already having water or having to get his workout in while he could, Luke assumed. He didn’t really care. He had imagined a million ways his day could go, and he had somehow lived the one he didn’t think would ever happen. He smiled at her, panicking when she began to reach for the pack she had around her waist. “I’ll pay!”
She looked back up at him. “Wow! A cute boy calls me pretty and buys me a smoothie in one day? This isn’t what I imagined would happen when I walked into the gym today.” She giggled, walking with him.
“Yeah… neither did I.”
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neo-nomatrix · 11 months
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10 Things I hate about you
Hobie brown x reader
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word count: 1120
(My) Nuisance masterlist
Synopsis: You have hated your neighbor for one year, 3 months, and 8 days. You hate his hair, his boots, his obnoxious music, and most of all you hate the way you love him
a/n; This is the last part of the main (My) Nuisance story! Other installments will be on parters about reader and Hobie before and after the main plot. Thank you to everyone who loves this story it means the world to me!
Being neighbors with Hobie has been one of the most frustrating, exhausting, and confusing experiences of your life. He has truly put you through hell and back.
1. I hate the way you talk to me and the way you do your hair.
If someone had told you one year ago you would be completely head of heels for Hobie you most likely would have laughed in their face. If someone had told you he was the man under Spider-punk's mask you would have jumped off a bridge right then and there. Yet here you are, searching your brain for answers about Hobie and his feelings wondering what you got yourself into.
2. I hate the way you lie to me and your stupid boot buckles.
The unbearable truth was, Hobie got to you. Most importantly he hurt you in the process. You weren’t supposed to get close to him, you weren’t supposed to fall in love with him but you did. He had completely forgotten about the night before and it hurt you more than anything. You genuinely thought he liked you, as luck would have it he confessed to you that he was a compulsive liar when he drank too much. Leading you into realizing he didn’t mean it, why would he? He seemed like the type who would flirt with you just as a fun game, you didn’t know what you were expecting.
3. I hate you so much it makes me mad, it makes my head spin, my stomach ties into knots, makes me weak in the legs.
Was that what this was? A sick joke? A game to him? Just thinking about that made you want to scream at him. Yell at him, tell him how angry you were with the fact that he played with your feelings. You wanted to scream at him and give him a piece of your mind. Yet you couldn’t. You have always been able to yell at Hobie, always. Even over dumb things like the way he talked. But now, it’s different. You wanted to get up and yell at him but you stayed sitting on the ground. Legs to your chest and you just sat there. Unable to move, frozen in that position.
4. I hate it when you’re out all night drinking and the way it makes me worry, worry so much that I stay up all night waiting to hear your stupid boots.
You hear a knock at the door and know it’s him. Of course it’s him, in your time living here he was the only person to ever knock on your door.
“Love? I- I want to talk to you. Can you let me in?” He asked, his voice quiet.
5. I hate your stupid smile and the way you purposefully play your guitar too loud just so i’ll come over.
He takes your silence as an answer, he’s about to say something and then pauses.
“When you were in my room you found a box. It had your stuff in it and a letter. I wrote the letter for you. You deserve to read it. I have your necklace and ring too, sorry bout that,” he gave you an awkward laugh.
“No, I shouldn't have even known about it,” you’re surprised you could even speak to him, “I don’t want to read it either,” you say quickly.
“You have a right to know what it says, okay? At least let me tell you.”
6. I hate that you were so easy to fall in love with.
A few seconds after he finished talking he turned the doorknob and walked into your flat.
“I don’t know what I said to you last night but I'm sorry. Whatever-“ you cut him off before he can finish.
“Don’t. I know you didn’t mean it so don’t. It doesn’t matter now I'm over it,” you brush him off.
“So uhm, what did i say exactly?” He questions
“I said it doesn’t matter, piss off!” you snap.
You both look away from each other, unable to speak.
7. I hate the way you hurt me and the way you made me get close to you. It would be so much easier to despise you if you weren’t so handsome.
“The letter talks about how much I love you, alright? Ever since the day we met and you gave me that stupid note I have been in love with you. You really don’t see the way I look at you? Or- or how I'm extra loud when I know you're trying to sleep? I would do anything just to look at you, that is how in love I am with you. I don’t know if you’re really just clueless or you’re trying to ignore the signs but I am pulling every string to try and make you fall in love with me. Is that what you want to hear?” He’s out of breath by the time he finishes. Tears are brewing in the corner of his eye.
8. I hate it when you say exactly what I want you to say.
“Yeah, actually it kind of is. You told me that it hurt when I didn't show up for our date. I thought you did like me, but then you said you lied when you were drunk. And I don't know why but I believed you,” You confess.
9. I hate it when we don’t talk and the way you make me feel. I hate that I didn't understand those stomach knots were me falling in love.
“No no no, I thought I said something that would upset you. Of course I meant that, Love,” he said, holding your face in his hands. The cold metal of his rings touching you.
“You mean that?” you ask.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything else,” he smiles. God that stupid smile.
“You also, kind of told me something else. You said you were uhm, Spiderman?” you nervously asked.
He visibly tensed up.
“Oh that, well I guess there’s no point in lying huh?”
“So you are?”
“Yeah, for the last three years. But I don’t believe in labels, they’re stupid,” he shrugs
“That’s pretty embarrassing for me then, hm?” you look around your spiderman themed room.
“Nah, I think it’s pretty cute,” he says, making you blush.
“Why don’t we start over? We can go out on a proper date, forget any of this happened. I promise, no standing each other up and we’ll be so happy,” He says, grinning ear to ear.
“Alright then, where should we go?”
10. You especially hate the way you don’t hate him at all. You don’t like him either. You love him. You’re in love with Hobie Brown, your nuisance.
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*If your user wasn’t tagged and showed up as just text it’s because you have something changed in settings
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 5 months
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Dad!Cod Scenarios
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I had thoughts on these racked up in my brain about CoD characters having kids and what type of parents they'd be in a scenario or drabble manner.
Tag list: @puff0o0, @simp4konig, @blingblong55, @azereus, @rustic-guitar-notes, @shadofireshinobi, @anonymuslydumb, @skeletalgoats, @icarustypicalfall, @ghosts-cyphera,@connorsui is at it again, making me blush over her words, AHHHHH I LOVE HER. Did I tag almost everyone I know here? Yes, yes I did 😭
Characters Included: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Gary "Roach" Sanderson.
(Implied?? Wife!Reader, Parent!Reader. Not really specified, so gender neutral!Reader)
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❥ Dad!John Price is the type of dad who'd fondly tell your kids about how you met, tell them stories about his time in the army, his experiences with their uncles and aunts from 141. Enjoying how their little faces express something great, admiring how cool their dad was for being so brave to constantly and willingly put his life on the line in the means of saving people. They tried telling him that they want to follow in his footsteps but that is a big no no. The last thing he wants is them willingly throwing themselves in danger and the risk was far too much.
❥ Dad!Johnny MacTavish is the type of dad to make his kids laugh by blowing raspberries on whatever body part his kids are ticklish on, he enjoys hearing their laughter and giggles. Definitely is the man who grew up with quite a big family so he'd love to have a full house if you were up to having it with him. He's such a family man to the bone, knows how things work around and mostly knows what to say and do when it comes to the kids.
❥ Dad!Kyle Garrick is the type of dad to dance with his kids, letting them have their little feet on top of his, letting them pick the music and guiding the little one. Having them smile and look up at him, his little one thinking it was just the best thing in the world to spend quality time with their dad. Swaying them around while they call him giggling, letting out squeals after he spins them. (I NEED GIRL DAD!GAZ 🥺😭)
❥ Dad!Simon Riley is the type of dad who absolutely HATES it when his kids cry, always doing his best to console them, depending on what made them upset. Being the one to patch them up when it's because of a "boo-boo", god forbid it's because of another person, he'd either make that kid piss themselves or that adult will NEVER see the light of day again. Because of that, the little one always finds themselves looking for their dad's comfort.
❥ Dad!Gary Sanderson who is the type of dad who finds so many ways to make his kid feel appreciated, whether that'd be through letting them help out and make them feel needed, thanking them and returning the favor for handmade gifts on days like Father's day or Valentine's day. The little one is always so eagerly awaiting for their dad to come home, knowing he'd be bearing so meaningful gift that goes in the memory box.
❥ Dad!Alejandro Vargas who is the type of dad who's strict but also not at the same time. Safe to say he did not have fun when Soap taught his kid to curse in Spanish when he first met the kid, that was probably Alejandro's fault for teaching Soap Spanish curses anyway. That kid is going to be loved I tell you, Alejandro has taken them to work just so they can see what he does and safe to say they loved being around everyone that Alejandro works with. (More likely that they still do this together however Alejandro is VERY strict since it's dangerous for the kid to even be out there)
❥ Dad!Rodolfo Parra who is the type of dad whose domestic, he has many memorabilias and scrapbooks of his kid's milestones, even kept the teeth that fell out. Always finding ways to spend time with the kids, whether it'd be through something as simple but meaningful as teaching them Spanish or taking them out to eat. His kids love and adore him, finding that the best time they spend with him is when he lets them talk about their day, listening in and validating their thoughts.
❥ Dad!König who is the type of dad who finds himself absolutely terrified that he's responsible for such a tiny thing. He's extremely protective of them, seeing his little kid whimper and point at something that caused them pain (even if it was by their own accord), König finds himself comforting the little one by soothing their crying and kicking whatever inanimate object it was just to make them feel better. He already hurt himself once or twice doing that and it did make his kid laugh, anything that makes them happy right?
❥ Dad!Kim Hong-Jin who is the type of dad whose a bit irresponsible at times, he tends to roughhouse with his kid a lot. There's definitely a lot of physical and playful activities with him in the means of spending time. He doesn't mean anything by it, just quality time, his kid is one of the reasons behind him stopping his gambling addiction. He wanted to set an example for them. The last thing he wants is for his kid to remember him by something negative so he does his best to spend time with them a lot despite him getting deployed.
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Sidenote: I wrote this at 1 am and it was fun but my eyes hurt now, I have plans to go out tomorrow with a friend. Now regarding your guys' requests, ISTG I'm not ignoring you guys, I'm just not in the right headspace to write them except for a few I'm currently working on.
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