#But i hope this one will makeup for the days of me not posting

[morgana-larkin]

Alrighty, after many creative blocks coming and going, I finally finished the next chapter of Mine!with Canadian thanksgiving and Halloween coming up, I decided to do a holiday chapter. Also for the few that were wondering their ages, in this fic, it takes place 7 years after season 2, and Melissa is 59 and reader is 34. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: the next fic I post will be an Agatha one as inspiration hit after watching the first 2 episodes of Agatha All Along and she’s clearly gay. I’m also aware that I haven’t updated my masterlist with like the last 6 fics I’ve posted, but I’m going to be doing a little reorganization and pretty-ing it up 😉

Mine - Part 8

Warnings: Smut, strong urge to be Mel’s wife (the usual)

Words: 4.5k

*Halloween Day*

“Got to hold still.” You tell Amelia as you’re finishing up her hairstyle for her costume. While you just bought shirts and wigs for the twins and dressed them up as thing 1 and thing 2, Amelia wanted something different.

You showed Amelia Scooby Doo and she chose to go as Daphne, so of course Melissa contacted some people and now Amelia has a great Daphne costume.

While you were helping Amelia get ready, Melissa was downstairs putting the costumes on the twins and getting breakfast ready.

“Do you tink people will know who I’m dressed as?” Amelia asks as you’re putting the headband in and fluffing some of her hair

“Well Mamma found you a great replica so I think they will.” You tell her with a smile. “Alright turn around.” You tell her as her costume is complete. Amelia does a little spin and you giggle. “You make an adorable Daphne, honey.” You tell her.

“Breakfast!” You hear Melissa call from downstairs and you take Amelia’s hand and help her down the stairs.

“Coming Mamma!” Amelia says when you’re halfway down the stairs.

When you and Amelia get to the dinner table to eat, Melissa looks up and immediately has a huge smile. “You both look amazing!” She says as Amelia goes running up to her and sits on her lap. “You look cute, Amore.” She says with a flirtatious tone when you get to the table. She then puts Amelia’s plate right in front of her and Amelia starts eating immediately.

“So do you, Poison Ivy.” You say as you grab the bat that Melissa decorated for you to complete your Harley Quinn costume.

“I am worried though that your lack of clothing will send the wrong message to some people though.” Melissa tells you and you can hear some jealousy seeping through her tone.

“My love, most of the staff and parents know that we’re married.” You tell her and give her a kiss before you all eat your breakfast.

“You could have gone with the full body suit with the hat.” Melissa says as you’re eating.

“The one with the devil looking horns? I like the option I picked.” You tell her. “Love, I don’t think anyone will try and hit on me when they know I’m married to Melissa Schemmenti.” You say and she blushes and smiles at that.

“I guess you have a point.”

“Besides, if they do try.” You start as you pick up the bat. “Then I got this handy dandy bat I can use that my lovely wife taught me how to use on our fourth date.“ You say with a smile and Melissa lets out a little giggle.

“Want me to do your makeup, Amore? Get your face all white and half dead looking.” Melissa says with a smirk.

“Sure, I’d love that.” You tell her and then you all finish your breakfast. “Do you want to finish getting everything ready while I pump before you finish my makeup?” You ask her and she nods.

“Sure thing.” She says and gives you a kiss on the cheek. “Want to get my cheek kiss count before you push me away from doing them all day. Especially when you’re wearing that.” She says and looks at your outfit.

“Think I look sexy as Harley Quinn?” You say with a flirty tone.

“I think you look sexy in this outfit.” She says as she wraps her arms around your waist and gives you a kiss. You were about to say something but then you remember you have to pump or you’ll start leaking.

“Well thanks love but I do have to start pumping.” You say as you give her a quick kiss and then leave the room. You come back in the room to Melissa taking a bunch of pictures of the twins and Amelia. Amelia had no problem posing for pictures for Melissa. You watch the scene for a minute and then you let your presence known and tell Melissa to go stand next to Amelia and the twins to get a picture. Melissa crouches down next to Amelia with the twins on the other side of her and you set your camera up with a timer and take a family Halloween picture.

“Alright I’ll do your makeup quickly now, Amore.” Melissa says to you. “Amelia, why don’t you go do some colouring while I put the finishing touches on Mommy’s costume, alright my little Tesoro?” She says to Amelia which Amelia quickly nods and runs to her colouring books in the living room.

“Alright maybe we should do this in the living room cause last time she coloured without supervision, our walls paid the price.” You say to which Melissa laughs.

“She takes after me that way.” Melissa says with a smile.

40 minutes later and you and Melissa are walking into the break room at Abbott.

“OMG you guys look AMAZING!” Jacob squeals.

From across the room, Melissa can see another teacher checking you out. Melissa wraps an arm around your waist and sends a glare their way.

“Oh damn! Check you out girl!” Ava says as she enters. “You’ll definitely be on my mind today.” She adds and Melissa huffs. She knows Ava likes to tease her that way.

“I’d be better if you refrained from thinking of my wife.” Melissa says with a glare.

“Why Melissa, are you jealous?” You say teasingly. “Although you should all know that Melissa decorated Edith for me for today. So any funny business and your head will meet her today.” You say as you show them the bat.

“Omg! Can I see that! It looks so cool, looks just like her bat in the show.” Jacob says with a huge smile and goes to inspect the bat.

While walking to your classrooms to welcome the kids, you both hear someone do a catcall and look around and see Janine down the hall looking at you both with a huge smile.

At lunch you show everyone the pictures you both took this morning of the kids and the family picture.

“They all look adorable.” Barb says to Melissa as you’re showing the trio.

“They look so cute.” Janine says excitedly.

“Amelia is like a mini me of Melissa.” Jacob says and you turn to look at Melissa who’s looking your way with a smirk.

“Well there’s no denying she’s Melissa’s kid.” You say as you go to sit down next to Melissa.

“Was there any doubt that she was.” Melissa says with a quirked eyebrow.

“A little.” You tell her and she tickles your exposed stomach and you start laughing.

“Little minx.”

“It’s Harley to you.” You say after Melissa stops the tickles, you get Edith out and Melissa bursts out laughing.

When you’re saying goodbye to the kids, a few parents check you out and hit on you and you can feel Melissa’s glare on them.

“I didn’t like having to watch those parents hit on what’s mine.” Melissa says in the car when you’re on the way to the daycare to pick up your kids.

“Well I’m sorry I’m so irresistible.” You say with a smile and Melissa gives you a side eye before shaking her head with a smile.

“You are irresistible.”

“And I’m also yours, so no need to worry about a few parents. You should see it as evidence that they’re jealous that you have me instead of them.” You tell her.

“You’re right, I mean we have 3 kids and we’ve been together for 9 years. And we’re still happy.” She says with a smile and you give her a kiss on the cheek.

“Exactly, so put everyone else out of your mind, it’s time for Amelia to go trick or treating for the first time. And then to steal some candy later on.”

After picking up your kids, you all go home to have supper and then you put jackets on the twins and Amelia.

“But the jacket hides the costume, I don’t want a jacket.” Amelia complains the entire time.

“Ok how about we bring your jacket and when you get cold then you put it on. How’s that sound, Tesoro?” Melissa compromises and Amelia agrees.

You take her out trick or treating around the neighbourhood for a couple hours, with the twins in a stroller, before she says that she’s tired and falls asleep in Melissa’s arms on the way back to the house.

Back at the house, Amelia takes a small nap while you put on a movie while taking turns getting up to give candy out to trick or treaters.

“Oh look at all your costumes!” You hear Melissa say on one of her turns and you get up to go see and stand next to her. “A little shark, a pirate, a princess. You guys look amazing!” She says.

Half an hour later and you're each feeding a twin while Amelia is colouring on the floor. “Mommy! Look what I dew!” Amelia exclaims and you look to see her masterpiece.

“Oh wow, what a lovely heart honey. Why don’t you go hang it on the fridge?” You tell her and she runs to do that.

“How bad was it?” Melissa whispers to you.

“It’s terrible but adorable.” You whisper back with a smile and Melissa chuckles.

“Mamma, if I’m youw Tesowo, then what about the twins?” Amelia asks Melissa after being read a bedtime story.

“Well they’re my sole and Luna.” Melissa tells her. “Which means my sun and moon.

“I’ll always be your Tesowo wight?”

“Of course, forever and always.” Melissa assures her with a fond smile.”

“Which one is the moon and which one is the sun.”

“Well I decided that Nico is the sun as he’s always smiling and giggling. And Caterina is the moon as she has a little devil side to her. Now get to sleep, my little Tesoro.” Melissa says and gives Amelia a kiss on the forehead and tucking her in.

*Thanksgiving*

Amelia is holding on to her stuffy, Teddy, and sitting on the couch, while she watches you guys move around to get ready for thanksgiving dinner at Melissa’s family’s house.

You both go to the kitchen to get the food, and you instruct Amelia to watch the twins. One of the starts crying and when you run out to see what’s going on, you then see Amelia hand her stuffy to Caterina who immediately stops crying. You snap a picture of the moment before going to scoop Caty up in your arms and grab the stuffy from her eyes to give back to Amelia. As soon as you grab it, Caterina starts crying again.

“That was so sweet of you Amelia, and I’ll get Teddy back from her when we get Auntie Mary Camille’s place.” You say and Amelia nods.

“Why is Caty holding Teddy?” Melissa asks when she steps out with a couple bags of containers of food.

“Because Amelia gave it to her when she was crying and now when I try to take it from her, she just cries again.” You say and Melissa smiles at Amelia.

“You’re such a great big sister, my little Tesoro.” Melissa praises Amelia as Amelia smiles proudly.

You get to Mary Camille’s place and both of your families are all over the twins and Amelia. After 20 minutes, it ends up with Amelia playing with some of her cousins, Kristen Marie holding Caty and your mom holding Nico. You and Melissa sit down and let out a breath.

“Is parenting getting to you?” Vinny asks you both and you chuckle while Melissa gives him a hug.

“Getting to us but we love it.” Melissa says as you all sit back down after hugging each other hello.

“I’m very happy for you Mel. I mean my little cousin finally has the little family she’s always wanted.” Vinny says with a smile.

“What are you talking about little cousin, I’m older than you.” Melissa says.

“You may be older but I’m taller.” Vinny says with a smirk, while Melissa lets out a huff and crosses her arms.

“Are you torturing my sister?” Kristen Marie says as she comes to chat with you all. You and Melissa both turn to see that Caty is now being held by Toni.

“Which one?” Vinny jokes.

An hour later and you all get up to go get some food and you chop a little bit of food up on a small plate for Amelia and hand her a small plastic fork and her bottle. You already handed bottles to whoever was holding a twin about 10 minutes ago so they can be fed.

“Alright so before we all eat, I would like for us to go around the table and say what we’re thankful for.” Mary Camille says. “I can start us off. So I am thankful for my husband, my 2 boys and all 8 of my siblings. And also thankful for the rest of our family.” She says and then it’s Melissa’s turn.

“Ok, well I’m very thankful for my wife.” She starts and grabs your hand and looks at you with a smile. “Who gave birth to 3 of the most wonderful children I could ever ask for. And also thankful to my family for all the love and support we’ve gotten.” She finishes, still holding your hand.

“Well I’m also thankful for my beautiful wife and amazing kids. And I’m also thankful for all of you, for taking me in as your family even right as Mel and I just started going out. You all treated me like family right from the start and very grateful for that.” You say and then you both turn to Amelia. “Amelia, honey, do you want to say what you’re thankful for?” And Amelia looks at you confused for a second. “You can be thankful for the people that you love.” You explain to her.

“I’m tankful for my mamma and mommy. And I love my sibwings.” She says and everyone says ‘awww’ at that.

And then everyone at the table goes to say what they’re thankful for and then you all dig in to your meals.

A few hours later you both start to get ready to go home when Amelia falls asleep on you.

“You both can come anytime you want. We love to see you and your children.” Mary Camille says as she hands Caterina to you. Just then your mom comes in and hands Nico to Melissa.

“You can always bring your kids to see me and your father as well.” Your mom tells you. “And as well to see you and Melissa.” She adds on and you shake your head with a smile. “Looks like Amelia might need some help with her shoes.” Your mom says with a chuckle. You all turn and look down and see Amelia asleep on the floor, feet bare.

“Let’s put the twins in the stroller and then I’ll carry Amelia.” Melissa says and you nod in agreement.

When you get home you put the twins to bed while Melissa puts Amelia to bed. You both then flop down on the bed, ready to go to sleep. Melissa turns around and spoons you while you get comfy in her arms.

“Happy thanksgiving Mia Amore.” Melissa says softly in your ear.

“Happy Thanksgiving my love.” You say right back to her. You turn your head around to give her a kiss then you both fall asleep.

*Christmas Day*

“MAMMA! MOMMY! GET UP! GET UP!” Amelia yells while climbing on the bed and starts jumping. “Santa came! I saw presents under the tree!” She yells and sits on Melissa’s stomach.

“Oh, Amelia.” Melissa says, shocked as she wasn’t expecting for Amelia to sit on her.

“I want to open pwesents!” Amelia exclaims and throws her hands in the air, excitedly. Just as she does that, you grab Amelia and pull her off of Melissa.

“How about Mamma can go get the twins and we can go down and arrange the presents.” You suggest and Amelia nods excitedly. You bring her downstairs and read the names off the presents and then hand them to Amelia who was putting them in organised piles. A few minutes later, Melissa comes down with the twins and puts them in their playpen.

“Pwesent time?” Amelia asks excitedly as soon as Melissa joins you both.

“Yep, choose whatever present from your pile and open it.” You tell her and she does just that. While she excitedly tears the wrapping paper off, Melissa puts an arm around your waist after you both sit down on the floor.

“Mommy! It’s the Bawbie doll I saw at the store and I loved it!” Melissa exclaimed excitedly.

“Oh my god! Look at that, it seems Santa really does know everything.” You tell her as you go and look it over with her, pretending you didn’t send the idea to Melissa at the store when you saw Amelia light up at it.

You both watch her open all her presents and even let her open the twins Christmas presents as well. Melissa got a few pictures of her excitement from opening the presents. After she finished then she handed both you and Melissa your own presents and she watched you both open yours.

“Oh amazing! Santa got me a new bat to replace the one that broke!” Melissa exclaims and looks it over thoroughly. “And got the best one too.” She says and sends you a smirk to which you secretly wink at her.

After all the presents are opened then you and Melissa tidy up after getting a garbage bag. “Mamma.” Amelia says and looks at Melissa.

“Yes Tesoro.”

“I have to use the potty.” She says and Melissa gives you the garbage bag and brings Amelia to use the bathroom.

You both started potty training about a year ago and it seems she’s gotten the hang of it but still not quite tall enough to sit on the toilet or reach the sink herself yet.

They come back a few minutes later and you’re putting the twins in their chairs to feed them. Melissa was so excited to start introducing them to foods over the summer. Sometimes you put what Melissa makes in the blender instead of giving them store bought purée food. And to Melissa’s delight, they enjoy her food a lot more.

“For breakfast, how would you feel if I made your favourite frittata?” Melissa asks Amelia.

“No.” Amelia says, and Melissa sees that Amelia has another meal in mind.

“Ok, what do you want for breakfast then?”

“The tiwamisu crepes.” Amelia says excitedly. Melissa made the crepes only a handful of times before. Last time was the morning on the last day of summer.

“Oh, well I can definitely make that for breakfast.” Melissa says with a smile.

Melissa makes the breakfast with Amelia while you feed the twins. After the twins are fed is when Melissa is done cooking as it only takes about 20 minutes until they’re all ready.

You all eat breakfast and then get ready for the Christmas party at your parents house. Once you get there you see that a few of Melissa’s siblings are already there as you see their cars.

“How did Marie get here before we did? She’s usually late?” You ask Melissa who’s just as surprised as you.

“No idea, my only guess would be that Seamus stayed over at her place and hitched a ride with her today. And you know he likes to be on time.” She tells you. Melissa is holding Amelia’s hand while you push the stroller with the twins to the front door.

The door is opened by your mom who immediately bends down and brings Amelia into a hug.

“Hello my dear!” Your mom exclaims.

“Hi grandma!” Amelia says to her.

“Francesca and Liliana are already here if you want to go play with them.” Your mom says to Amelia who bolts to the living room after your mom helps take her shoes off.

“I guess we won’t have to worry about her for the rest of the day.” You joke as you wrap your mom in a hug. “Merry Christmas mom.” You tell her.

“Merry Christmas dear.” Your mom says back to you. “And Merry Christmas to you as well.” Your mom tells Melissa and hugs her.

“Merry Christmas Diane.” Melissa says to your mom.

“Well come in, come in. Many people are already here. Oh and Y/N your cousin Alex is here.”

“No way! I thought he was still in Germany.” You say.

“He was able to come back home for the holidays.” Your mom explains.

You and Melissa go into the living room and there’s about 40 people already there. You both say your hellos to everyone and the twins are already taken by family members.

“As much as I love the kids, I love when we get some time to ourselves without having to worry about them.” You tell Melissa, who gives you a kiss on the forehead and wraps her arm around your waist.

“I feel the same way, Amore.”

When everyone arrives then your mom shouts that it’s present time and all of a sudden, all the kids, including Amelia, comes running into the room.

“Weirdly enough, if we were to shout anything else then they act as if they didn’t hear us.” Mary Camille, who’s right beside you, says to you and Melissa.

“I mean that selective hearing can be tricky.” You tell her and she chuckles.

You all watch the kids open their presents and you rest your head on Melissa’s shoulder as you both are sitting on one of the couches.

“Mommy! Mamma! I got a new paint set! And it’s so big!” Amelia says excitedly as she shows both of you.

After everyone opens their gifts, then everyone gets up to go eat. It’s buffet style to make it easy with so many people. You and Melissa make a plate for yourselves and one for Amelia who’s busy playing with her new toys.

“Amelia, come and eat!” You tell her from one of the couches.

“But I wanna play!” She says and crosses her arms and pouts.

“You can play after you eat.” Melissa tells her.

“I nevew get to do anything I want to do.” She complains and pouts as she makes her way over to you both.

“Awe, my poor baby.” Melissa says and wraps her arms around Amelia and gives her a big dramatic hug.

“Ah! Mamma, wet me go!” Amelia says through giggles.

You all begin to eat and Amelia’s face scrunches up a bit when she’s eating something.

“What’s this Mamma?” She asks Melissa and points to the food on her plate.

“That’s spaghetti, Tesoro.”

“That’s not spe-tti, it tastes nothing like it.” She tells you. Then it hits both of you that the only spaghetti she’s ever had was Melissa’s, who’s only ever made Italian spaghetti.

“It is, just a different kind. Some people make things differently than Mamma does.” You explain to her.

“Well Mamma makes it bettew.” Amelia says as she takes another bite. You then look over at Melissa who’s beaming, from the comment her daughter said about her cooking.

After a few hours, Amelia sprints over to you both and climbs onto Melissa’s lap and lays her head on her chest.

“Getting tired, Tesoro?” Melissa asks her as she strokes her head and Amelia nods. “Alright, we’ll leave in a little bit.”

After you say your goodbyes, and get the twins back from whoever had them, you all leave to go home.

“You know, when we get home, then I wouldn’t mind opening my last present.” You tell Melissa, after checking that all your kids are asleep in the car. Melissa smiles after a second when she figures out what you mean, your seductive tone of voice certainly helped.

After putting the kids to bed, you and Melissa get ready for bed. As soon as Melissa steps out of the bathroom, you ambush her with a kiss.

“Oomph.” Melissa says as she didn’t expect it, but it was certainly welcomed. Melissa lifts you up and brings you both to the bed. Both your clothes are off quickly as you both can’t wait any longer. You were both excited the entire car ride home. The one downside of having kids is you can’t pull over and have spontaneous car sex anymore.

Melissa kisses all over your body before plunging two fingers in you. You moan out when she does and Melissa silents you with a kiss. You both don’t want to wake any of your kids at that moment.

Melissa keeps a steady pace as she fingers you. She wants you both to enjoy this so she goes at a pace that won’t make you cum in 30 seconds. She knows your body like the back of her hand, which is certainly an advantage in many situations, especially sexual situations. You keep moaning and gasping into the kiss as you get closer and closer to an orgasm.

“Come when you need to, baby.” Melissa pulls away to say that then goes right back to kissing you. You gasp into the kiss as you come seconds later and Melissa gently pulls out of you. After not having sex for 2 weeks, that was an intense orgasm. Melissa can tell you’re having trouble moving so she gets an idea as she knows you want to make her cum now. “Just stick out two fingers so I can ride them.” She tells you and you immediately obey. She slides down on your fingers and starts riding them as you watch her. It’s not the first time she’s done this, as she’s extremely good with her fingers, but you love it when she does. The fact that she’s bringing herself that enjoyment with your help, and on top of you, with her breast moving with her, it’s definitely one of your favourite sights. Her mouth then starts hanging open and you can feel her pussy wrap around your fingers tightly and you can tell she’s about to cum. “Omg baby, your fingers feel so good inside of me.”

“And I love having my fingers inside of you, being able to feel you.” You tell her, and at that, she comes. Melissa then flops down on the bed next to you and you’re both breathing heavily.

“Don’t know why you’re breathing hard, I did all the work.” She jokes with you and you chuckle.

“Well the sight took my breath away.” You say to her with a smile.

You then cuddle as she comes down from her high and you both feel very content at that moment. You then look at Melissa as an idea pops in your head.

“What is it Mia Amore?” She asks you.

“How do you feel about getting a puppy?”

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

@og-kxsh-420

@sasheemo

@midnight-lestrange

Let me know if you want to be added!

[k3nnyonly1]

“WELCOME HOME, NEIGHBORS!”

Just the neighbors hanging out, what can go wrong?

(Want free to add your OC in)

[manofthepipis]

Here are my own Addison/Spamton headcannons to add on! :]

(buckle up cause I got a lot)

If Spamton tries to talk about personal memories that he tried very hard to bury, (like his puppitfication), he physically cant. If he talks about a memory that overwhelms him his body would spaz out in glitches and error signs. (kinda like a system crash)

I feel like if the Adds were to get the grasp of healing magic, the first one to perfect it would be Clicks. (bc he already makes tea that heals you!)

Sponsor owns a motorcycle! (because they thought it made them look cool) And regularly takes it out for a spin when he's done with work for the day.

Survey is a secret horror fan, and when having movie nights with the other adds, they would always recommend horror movies that they personally like.

I feel like Banner really focused on clothing after Spamton went missing, (he only really did this as a side hustle/hobby beforehand) as it was a good distraction and a way to cope, and he found out he was really good at it! And made it his primary business.

When an addison gives a gift with no underlying intention/price tag attached, it is seen as a sign of a genuine friendship, familial, or courtship relations, (like when they all gifted Spamton the new phone) as all addisons are selfish in nature

Clicks 1000000000% cried at the Barbie movie and has a poster of her in his room lololol

Sponsor absolutely LOVES those shitpost videos on TikTok, like that smurf-cat that's been trending recently? his feed is FULL of videos like that

Its hard for Spamton to open up for a variety of reasons, because he HATES it when people give him pity, he's been dealing with that his whole life, and knows that bigshot's don't get those looks.

Along with fashion, Banner is CRAZY good at makeup, and that's when he and Clicks have most of their gossip sessions when doing Clicks makeup when they're hanging out together

Survey has a soft spot for holiday seasons (not just because of shopping sales and spike and sales, cause all addisons are scrambling when october hits,) but also because it's a time they feel all warm and fuzy with their family :]

To add on to the motorcycle thing, Banner was very against Sponsor getting one, as he heard about horror stories on those "death traps" (his words)

to add on to the one above, Sponsor didn't wear a helmet once, (cause he only needed to go like, a street down to grab something,) and Banner gave him HELL. bro went on a whole rant about Bike saftey and Sponsor always wore a helmet after that incident (a mad banner is very scary! cause i hc that he always keeps his chill) (Banner is not beating mom friend allegations)

Jevil LOVES messing with Clicks the most, as he's the drama queen, and his reactions are hilarious cause he HATES the clown. Jevil will do things like change his wallpaper, take secret selfies, or just flat out jumpscare him because it never gets old...

Sponsor is a BEAST at Just Dance, like, bro is doing breakdancing for every single song, and he WILL make EVERYONE do the dances correctly, (as clicks likes to half-ass it by just moving the controller correctly)

Banner is the strongest physically out of all the addisons. Y'know like, that punching bag game in arcades where the harder you punch the bag the more points you get? Banner DEMOLISHED that, and has one of the highest scores still.

Clicks secretly plays dating sim games as a guilty pleasure

also have you seen eviction day yet? If not, I HIGHLY reccomend! I will add a warning for flashing lights and disturbing imagry though, https://youtu.be/fzzGtz4v3YU?si=6-AD5j8qrGARbdM3

but yea! here are my silly lil headcannons for the silly lil guys :]

i'm incredibly happy with the energy we've created in the studio today

also known as omg i love these headcanons like this is great food hfjdksjdjdks

the first one i also share! and it's a bit of why i headcanon swatch feels distant from spamton out of everybody he talks to. Like they were rlly close at one point and talked a lot, and swatch was his shoulder at high stress points in his job. However when the Horrors happened, he physically couldn't explain anything, leaving swatch to wonder what exactly happened to him and then build up resentment for keeping them in the dark. They even tried to help at first, but help turned to hate real fast when neo got involved.

i love the idea over clicks and spamton maybe bonding over some healing magic, like i had something similar in mind for a future chapter but this rlly has me smiling at the possibilities. spamton would maybe give him some tips- for a price. He IS thinking about trying to capitalize the whole healing gig after all since he's good at it.

banner going into clothing after spamton disappeared makes sense, especially with keeping busy trying to forget about him (it's awful hard to with the mannequins looking the way they do, but maybe that's a good thing in the long run) also i adore the mom friend vibe these headcanons have about him. i'd love to add on to the helmet thing, as I feel Clicks would join him on this (he's protective) but sponsor (and maybe even survey) claims it's fine if it was just once.

i completely agree with surv and the holidays. honestly i feel like they're the most ambitious with holiday sales and are unmatched, kind of peaking during seasonal sales in general (seeing how many survey ads are in place when customer shopping is at an all time high). spamton was indifferent to the holiday craze (cuz even when addisons were at their busiest, he wasn't) but liked when everything settled down after they weren't as busy to talk with him again. I have a picture in mind of survey chilling with spamton and realizing this, how happy he is when they're not busy (and feeling as if he was supposed to be), and being happy in return, if not sympathetic to him.

jevil pranking the adds and being a general nuisance is just so funny to me. gosh i can just imagine the absolute chaos he'd bring to a tea shop, mixing up the names and flavors, upon the other things (especially the wallpaper that has me cracking up with ideas). spamton, at the request (and payment) of clicks, gets jevil to stop (maybe. it's unclear if hes actually stopped completely or if there's smaller pranks here and there) but he secretly finds it hilarious.

overall these headcanons are great and i'm so happy to see them shared

[crazyw3irdo]

one of the funniest parts about being genderfluid to me personally is that i don’t really keep track of what gender i’m feelin like at the time. like suddenly i’ll realize that i’m a guy rn and it will come as a shock to even me.

[afterglowsainz]

Hey can I get a jealous Jude x female reader. Nothing too toxic lol l, it’s just some guys hitting y/n up on social media and somehow Jude sees the DMs and gets a little jealous. Then his petty self goes and posts a picture of him and his girlfriend on her ig or something petty like responds back with a “she’s busy bro”. Thanks 🫶🏻

jealousy | jude bellingham

obsessed with this concept already !!

summary: while you're getting ready to go out on a date with your boyfriend, he accidentally sees some dms he doesn't like and decides to do something about it

warnings: none

word count: 738

a/n: boring title booo i know i know i couldn't think of anything better :( i do hope you like the one shot tho it was fun to write about jealous jude <3

you were getting ready to go out on a date with jude while he was laying on your bed waiting for you. his phone was charging somewhere in the living room so you gave him yours to play a game so he doesn’t get bored. you were putting on your makeup while singing along to your playlist while he was building some villages or whatever it was that they do on clash royale. however, jude got distracted when an instagram dm pop up at the top of your phone, it was from this formula 1 driver that he knew was always liking your pictures, he didn’t knew he was dming you as well. he thought about opening the message, but he didn’t want to invade your privacy like that, so he simply looked at you.

“someone dm you.” he says.

his voice took you out of your little world and you place your gaze on him thought the mirror you were applying your makeup on.

“who?”

“lando norris.” he reads the name like he didn’t knew already.

“what does it say?” you hide a laugh and continue with your makeup routine.

jude opens the message and reads it out loud. it was obvious he was hitting on you by replying to a story you had posted earlier that day when you went to brunch with your friends and you felt cute.

“are you gonna answer?” he asks again, hints of jealousy on voice.

“not really, no.” you answer and go back to singing along and applying mascara on.

when jude goes back to the screen on your phone his thumb accidentally swipes left and your whole inbox is completely exposed to him. he didn’t meant to do that, but it really was an accident and he couldn’t help but see now that it was there, only he wished he didn’t have.

some of your dms were just conversations with your friends, but a lot of them were just guys replying to your stories and hitting on you, which made him even more jealous than before. you never replied to them, going as far as deleting some of the messages you received, but since you hadn’t checked your instagram since that afternoon a lot of dms from different guys complimenting you on your story were there for jude to find.

he frowns at the phone and takes a look at you, completely oblivious while doing your eyeliner. his eyes go back to the screen and he starts looking up some pictures that you took the week before of you two.

“do you mind if i post one of those pictures you took of us last week?” he asks out of nowhere. “so i can repost it on my story.” he clarifies.

you frown a bit confused because this is the first time he has asked you something like this, but after him seeing the other guy’s dm and feeling a bit jealous you connected the dots and smile amused.

“sure.” you say.

he nods and went to post a story with the two of you looking definitely like the couple you were. he spend a few seconds thinking about a good caption, landing on a simple “my boyfriend❤️”, very straight to the point. he also tagged himself big enough for everyone to see and posted the picture, a satisfied smile on his face.

when you were done with your makeup and ready to go, you approached him and sat on his lap, your phone still in his hand.

“let me see the picture.” you smiled. he shows you the story and you rolled your eyes, a bit amused at his possessiveness. “was that really necessary?” you point at the text and he just shrugs.

“i just feel like there’s a lot of people that don't know we’re together, you know? just wanna put it out there.” you nod, fighting the smile on your face and putting your arms around him.

“is that so?” you tease him, getting closer to him if that was even possible.

“yeah, lots of guys on your dms.” he confess. “they liked your selfie earlier.”

“hmm.” you answer. “i wouldn’t know about that, i only like one guy.” a treacherous smile takes over his lips and you take the opportunity to kiss him. “wanna go? we’ll be late to dinner.”

jude just nods and gets out of bed, never dropping your hand for a second.

[angelsforthenight]

i could eat that girl for lunch… (ellie williams)

ways you can help gaza🇵🇸

summary: you post cute pictures on your story in the hopes of gaining a certain girl’s attention… luckily you get more than what you anticipated ;)

cw: mdni, fem!reader, texting, cunnilingus, desperate top!ellie, teasing sub!reader, cannibalistic metaphors, cursing, ellie is goofy lmao

you’re this close to screaming. the winged eyeliner on your left eye somehow keeps fucking up; either looking too splotchy or shorter than your right one. what’s pissing you off the most is the fact that you aren’t even going anywhere… getting all dolled up just to take it all off in 15 minutes, just to post cute little photos on your story and, of course, just to get her attention.

ellie williams. the name rolled off your tongue with such velvety sleek. every single one of your friends knows her name; has had to endure through your countless obsessive gushes.

you two had met during a party. having been in a drunken haze, you barely remember the first conversation that sparked such an interest, but you do remember her gin breath against your ear: asking/shouting, amidst the blaring music, if you had wanted to go somewhere a little more quieter. the night ended up in you being fingered in her car, before being driven back home by her. a freckle-faced angel in a leather jacket coated with small pins and badges. you were immediately hooked. but it’s been a week since then, and you two haven’t spoken. having achieved her number, you thought of messaging, but didn’t want to come across as desperate, even though you so are.

you thank instagram suggested for bringing you her account on a platter; being filled with niche, introverted posts of every cool-looking thing but her face. she doesn’t even have a “me” highlights! you can’t tell if her lack in posting her face is a blessing or a curse. so here you are, getting ready to post on your story since you followed her the day before. the skin around your eye is starting to sting by the amount of times you’ve been wiping and restarting your eyeliner. it needs to be perfect. you’ve orchestrated all this to be perfect. you take a deep breath and focus, striving to get the perfect wing.

“thank fuck.” you murmur under your breath once you finally get it right, before enveloping your lips in lipstick. you admire yourself in the mirror once done. you look fucking amazing.

since you spent way too long putting on your makeup, it wouldn’t be fair to yourself to only post one picture, so you post a couple. a mirror picture following up a layout of 4 images with the perfect song in the background. a little smile tugs at your lips as you replay the story two, three, four times before setting it on do not disturb and finding something else to do. your heart pounds at the thought of ellie seeing it, praying that she’ll interact. even a simple like will do.

after removing your makeup and getting into your pyjamas, you click on a movie to pass time, setting your phone on do not disturb. half an hour passes, and you’ve been neurotically checking your phone for a sign of ellie to appear on your notifications, but nothing. you check your story to see if she’s seen it but again, nothing. another hour passes, and you check for any sign of ellie. nada. look at my story, you freak! are the words etched in your head, words you wished you could telepathically scream at her. you remember you set your phone on do not disturb for a reason, so you place it far away and focus on finishing the film.

a while later, you’re slumped on your couch on the verge of falling asleep. the movie’s ended and it was so boring that you’re finding it hard to keep your eyes open. you decide to check your do not disturb notifications one last time before taking a nap, until your eyes fall on the name ‘ellie.’ you immediately jerk up, awake and alert: your thumb automatically pressing the notification centre so you can see what it reads.

seventeen minutes ago.

ellie liked your story

ellie liked your story

ellie replied to your story: doll face

ellie replied to your story: you need a seat? lemme volunteer 🙏🙏

a shit-eating grin lights up your face. fucking finally! not once but twice! you excitedly draw your knees up to your chest, eager fingers tapping away, ready to respond - regardless of how long you’d been waiting for her texts. play it cool….

y/n: hahaha thank u thank u <3

y/n: (replied) oh word?

you’re surprised and very happy when you see the ‘typing…’ your heart doing goddamn backflips.

ellie: wooooord

ellie: literally cannot stop replaying ur story… bring that over here 🙁

ellie: come over

!!! your heart sinks all the way down to your ass. the hell does she mean come over?

y/n: ur not serious lmaoaoaooa

ellie: i’m being deadass,,, come over.

you look at the time. it’s almost 1 in the morning.

y/n: idek where u live bru😭😭😭😭

y/n: if anything you should come over since you’ve driven me to my house b4

ellie: mmm nahhhh

you blink in disbelief when ellie sends her location over. she’s not kidding.

y/n: girl i look bummy… i don’t even have any makeup on anymore :< took it off

ellie: i really don’t care

ellie: plsplspsls come over

ellie: u won’t regret it……………. trust 🤓🤓

next thing you know you’re leaving your house in your plaid shorts and a silly graphic tee. thankfully, ellie only lives 10 minutes away, so you take a bus before walking up to her apartment.

y/n: i’m cominggg

ellie: LOL yeaa you will be coming real soon 😇😇😇

though you cringe at her text, your body betrays you; your stomach forming a deep pit. she’s so sultry and playful you don’t know even know what to think. and there goes your heart again, hastily beating away like there’s no tomorrow. you reach the door, a trembling hand raising up to knock.

“hi.” ellie beams, smiling like an idiot. her eyes seize you from head to toe, “nice fit.”

“told you i looked bummy...” you mumbled, trying your best not to seem nervous. ellie moves aside so you can come in. her apartment smells exactly like she does; that faint campfire scent, conjoined with a forest-ey musk. a forest fire you were more than willing to burn in.

“so…“ you begin, with nothing prepared to follow up after that.

“sooooooo….” ellie repeats blithely.

“it’s been a week since… you know…” you whisper, awkwardly shifting your legs.

“since…?” ellie blinks, furrowing her eyebrows. she’s taunting you, trying to play innocent when it’s pretty fucking obvious what you’re on about.

“the party.” you respond, entertaining her coyness for no reason.

“party?” ellie pretends to think, looking up at nothing. “oh!! yeah… jesse’s one.” she smirks.

you smirk back, furrowing your eyebrows in amusement. “you could do so much better at playing dumb, y’know…”

“you think so?” ellie narrows her eyes, tilting her head as she steps closer. the impish smirk on her face never leaves. she’s having fun. you both are.

“yup. for your own good, don’t choose acting as a career.”

“for my own good?”

“for your own good.” you haven’t even realised how close you two are to each other now, daring eyes locked with another pair of daring eyes. takes one to know one. a silence permeated with tension fills the room.

“c’mere…” ellie finally mumbles before cupping your face with both hands and bringing you in for a kiss. you’re quick to melt in her grasp, your hand finding it’s way to ellie’s hair, giving it a playful tight squeeze that elicits a quiet groan from her. her hands, those goddamn hands, then move to your waist, pulling you closer. you two don’t even waste time before you’re making out with such fervor. save the sweetness for later, it’s the hunger that’s on display for now. the memory of her lips were starting to slip away from your mind and you’re glad you’re here to reboot it.

once you pull away, ellie’s eyes drift to something behind you. you follow her gaze, only for your eyes to land on a chair in the middle of the goddamn living room. it’s so random that you can’t help but burst out laughing.

“why is there a chair?” you ask in the midst of your laughing fit. it’s not even that funny, but the laughing is helping with your nerves.

“it’s for you.” ellie giggles too, a light pink tint on her cheeks that’s hard to miss.

“me?” you blink rapidly, your gaze darting from the chair to ellie, “do i sit?” you ask stupidly.

“no, you stand.” sarcasm laces her tone, as she giggles a little more, “go sit.”

“don’t order me around like i’m your dog.” you respond playfully, but you do as she says. despite your ‘tough’ front, you’d do anything she’d tell you to. guess she was being literal about offering you a seat…

ellie grins down at you, angling your chin up so you’re looking at her. you can feel the heat start to prickle in your face, down your neck and pervading the rest of your body. her thumb traces along your bottom lip, slightly dragging it down. there’s that same darkened look she had back in her car, one that makes you feel so small.

“so cute… like a human deer.” she murmurs distractedly, almost like she’s talking to herself instead of you. your head grows fuzzy, blushing even more. you mindlessly squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease the growing heat in between. ellie notices.

“you doing okay?” she softly asks, unable to mask the smug look on her face. you nod quietly. with her eyes kept on you, she lowers down until she’s on her knees, her smile growing. she kisses the top of both your kneecaps in such a tender way it sends tingles down your spine.

“can i eat you?” she breathes, her voice hollow and needy. it takes a second for those words to register in your brain.

“you…” you trail off. ellie’s gaze is very, very distracting. so intense and intrusive. she patiently waits for your answer, resting her chin on top of your knees. how can someone look so adorable and intimidating at the same time?

“please?” she adds, and you smile. a realisation has just dawned on you: you like to make her wait.

“eat me?” you cock your head to the side in feigned confusion. now it’s your turn to play dumb.

“yeah… like, your pussy.” ellie mumbles, becoming so desperate that it’s funny. she needed to be humbled at least a little. “i want a taste…”

“yeah?” you mock, and ellie’s face warps into a frown. “stop teasing me.”

“it’s only payback.” you shrug.

“for what?” ellie whines.

“for taking a week to text me.”

ellie stares at you for a moment. “then let me make it up to you…” her eyes travel down to your clamped thighs, wanting to open them up so bad. truth is, you’d let her devour you. chew you up like a deranged creature and watch her greedily lick the blood from her fingers. but teasing her was just so damn fun.

“aren’t your knees getting tired?” you tease, cupping the side of her face as she stares up at you with puppy eyes. it’s getting hard to resist. ellie immediately shakes her head.

“for you? never.” she whispers. your grin broadens in satisfaction. such sweet words. meaningless? maybe, but cute nonetheless.

“fine…” you sigh, leaning back and gesturing for ellie to go forth. ellie’s face lights up like a bulb, eagerly parting your legs. the movement makes you shiver, as you can feel the heated moisture of your arousal seep through your underwear. despite your shorts still being on, ellie’s lips travel up, both hands gripping your sides as her lips leave fond, wet kisses along your inner thigh. her teeth clench around the hem of your shorts, letting out a muffled chuckle as she playfully pulls your shorts down with her teeth. she’s kidding around but that’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen in your life.

you adjust your knees so that your shorts can be pulled down. you’re so wet your underwear is fucking see-through. you just know she’s about to say something.

“someone’s real excited-“

“shut up and keep going.” you hastily cut her off out of embarrassment. ellie laughs, glancing at you one more time before leaning back down again, dragging her ardent tongue up your inner thigh. you gasp quietly, and that little noise influences her to do more, letting out a sigh of her own; the sort of sigh you do when relaxing in a hot bath, or when pissing after holding it in for so long… like she’s needed this. you’re startled when ellie drags her tongue right in the center of your clothed heat, your breath hitching. you want more.

ellie’s teasing is relentless and mean. she sucks your clit through your underwear, eyes on you; observing the way your hips are desperately buckling up, the way your thighs are twitching.

“so mean…” you whine as ellie flicks and rolls her tongue against your underwear.

“did you want something?” ellie blinks. again with the coyness. you scowl and ellie grins in return.

“you can’t outdo the do-er, babe.” she chirps, pulling the drenched underwear off your legs. she opens your legs wide, staring at your pussy like it’s the best piece of artwork she’s ever seen. you can practically see sparkles in her eyes. you shiver when you feel her fingers pry your cunt open.

“so fucking hungry for you…” she whispers, her breathing shallow and her eyes glazed-over. she gets to work immediately, a firm trail up your vulva before kissing it with her lips. a fleshed moan doesn’t fail to escape your own lips, as your eyes flutter shut. of course she’d be good at this.

ellie moans too, gripping your thighs and pulling you closer, burying her face in between your legs as she goes to town on you. she’s moving like she’s starving, like she hasn’t eaten for weeks and has been presented with a banquet.

her lips tug at your folds, your pussy slick with a mixture of your arousal and her spit. every single time her lips hit your clit it elicits yet another strong reaction from you. she’s so vigilant that she’s quick to notice that that’s your most delicate spot, so she abuses it; kissing it and pulling on it, her head shaking as she pleases you with her tongue. you nourish her with hushed praises: ones like “yes, yes…” or “you’re doing so good” to keep her going. it fuels ellie like no other, and drives her to go harder, a little faster.

her movements are so consistent and perfect that you could froth in the mouth right here and now. you grip her hair tightly, and ellie adores it: groaning happily when you squeeze too tight. you mindlessly push ellie’s head closer to your pussy, feeling the tip of her nose buried in. your moans begin to crescendo. you’re in fucking ecstasy.

“getting close, are we?” ellie pants, her thumb rubbing your clit in slow, teasing drags as she resumes sucking on your cunt.

“i’m gonna cum… i’m cumming… e-ellie…” you babble, tears threatening to pour; and it isn’t just the eye tears we’re talking about here…

“yeah? you gonna let yourself go?” ellie stares up at you, her voice a little higher and breathier. her face is warped into one of pleasure, like she’s the one being fucked.

“yeah… please ellie, i’m really close…” you whine: barely coherent, light tears streaming down your face. ellie chuckles at how adorable you look, taking a second to appreciate how good you look when needy. she dives back in, her nails digging into your thigh as her mouth moves with the perfect vigour to push you off the edge. and oh, you do.

one last strong lick gets you off: your spine bending backwards, same as your head as you let out a strangled scream. you grip her hair tightly, your eyes momentarily rolling to the back of your head as ellie purposely continues to extend the high a little bit. eventually, she pulls back. the both are you are completely out of breath - huffing and panting like dogs.

you slump back in your chair, completely out of it and in a daze. ellie smiles.

“you okay?” she murmurs, appreciating your cute, spent look. you nod quietly in response.

“fuck, my knees.” she mumbles, before sitting back and stretching them. you laugh a little.

“there was no need for the chair.” you reply.

“i know… but i wanted to. it was hot.”

“it was.” you smile. you’re glad you decided to get dolled up for your story tonight.

a/n: i’m back! i’ve been so caught up in school that i haven’t been able to post fics as much but i’ll try 2 be more active :33 i’m absolutely obsessed with billie’s lunch so i made an ellie fic based off of it. hope u enjoyed and if u have any requests leave them in the ask inbox !!!

[honeytonedhottie]

celebrity energy⋆.ೃ࿔*:･💅🏽

so i got an ask about this a while ago and i wanted to make a post about it but i went on hiatus 😭 so im making the post now. thank you to the anonie who asked the question that inspired this post and i hope you see this cuz it answers ur ask...💬🎀

THE TRIPLE C'S ;

while making the notes for celebrity energy (the big C) and i was able to umbrella it to three main points. those points being confidence, cuntiness, and charisma.

confidence ; celebrities need to have undeniable confidence in themselves and their abilities. they're famous for a reason and they know that. work on ur self concept and watch ur confidence sky rocket.

cuntiness ; to be cunty is to be feminine and aware of urself. be cunty in the things that u do and the way that u handle urself. to be cunty is to find the perfect balance of inner strength and delicateness. cunt = refined.

charisma ; authenticity is the heart of charisma. be authentic and dont be afraid to take up space.

ALL ABOUT IMAGE ;

to have celebrity you need an image to put forward. this is where the power of social media comes in. your social media is like your brand. in this day and age social media is such a powerful tool not only for networking but also for getting u into places that u wanna get to.

in order to do that though u need to learn how to formulate ur own distinct image and advertise it expertly on social media.

PERSONAL BRAND AND REPUTATION ;

to further touch on those points ur social media IS your brand. this section kind of ties in with the next but im trying to distinguish between the two. so ur personal brand is what u do. so lets say ur rly SUPER smart and ur known for getting A's on like everything.

that is ur personal brand and that comes with a reputation that u may or may not feel obligated to uphold. but its important to uphold a reputation of some sort. with that being said be careful of what u post on ur social media because DIGITAL FOOTPRINT IS REAL. and when people look at ur social media they're seeing a representation of what ur putting out to the world so always be mindful.

WHATS UR SIGNATURE ;

you need something about yourself that’s gonna set you apart. the way that you walk the way that you dress the way that you do ur makeup etc. decide what kind of energy u wanna serve, and SERVE IT. i choose to serve princess energy and i could write a whole separate post on that but find someone who serves that same energy so that u can learn from them.

remember, dont introduce urself as a vibe that u cannot maintain

but back to what we were talking about what is your SIGNATURE. what makes u or people think "yea thats so (insert ur name)" is the way that u talk or the way that u carry yourself. make sure to refine urself and be ur own distinct individual.

and dont be afraid to play around with signatures, ur allowed to have a few or one singular one, dont limit urself and keep trying until u can create the perfect one for you…💬🎀

while on the topic of signatures i wanna touch on STAR QUALITY. learn how to market urself not only as a person but as ur own brand. star quality is the perfect blend of (talent + training + confidence)

POLISH YOURSELF ;

refinement refinement refinement. u need to be studying yourself and you need to be able to see urself from other point of views. seeing urself from other point of views can be so refreshing and useful and it rly helps when ur trying to polish urself.

take impeccable care for urself and constantly show urself that u love urself. polish the way that u talk and the way that u carry yourself so that u can be exuding so much you-energy. its basically taking ur signature and the energy that u exude -> and refining it.

you have to create the energy before fame comes. if u wanna have celebrity energy u have to start getting comfortable with putting urself out there which leads me to my next point...💬🎀

KILL CRINGE ;

when people call u cringe thats like them exposing their fear of being seen and analyzed by the world. they're upset because ur putting urself out there and they're insecure, but thats for them to fix within themselves. so dont take it personally when someone calls u cringe.

furthermore ur fear of being cringe is holding u back because ur always overthinking everything and u won't let urself do anything even if it'll help you because ur worried it might be cringe or ur worried what other people think so nip that in the bud and let urself live! u might have haters but dont let urself be ur own hater.

SOME MORE SOURCES ;

THE IMPORTANCE OF BRANDING

MIRROR WORK + AFFIRMATIONS

[ovrour]

-YOU SHOULD BE WITH HER, I CANT COMPETE

✮𝑺𝒀𝑵𝑶𝑷𝑺𝑰𝑺• Matt's been getting multiple DMs from one particular girl. You're worried he'll leave you for her.

✮𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮• Matt sturniolo x Insecure!gf reader

✮𝑮𝑬𝑵𝑹𝑬• fluff, with a little bit of angst, suggestive smut! established rls

✮𝑮𝑬𝑵𝑹𝑬• Insecure!reader

✮𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻• 0.8k

𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠...♪𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐁𝐘 𝐉𝐎𝐉𝐈

You were scared.

Scared that Matt would leave you for the prettier girl.

Of course you knew that Matt loved you. You didn't have to question it at all. But, even then you were still scared. Matt treated you like the princess you are but, there was still so much you were scared of. Getting cheated on being the first. In your past relationship, it was extremely toxic. Anything you did it seemed like it was all wrong to your boyfriend. Even when everyone warned you about him, you ignored it because you were too in love with someone who didn't love you enough or not at all.

That was until you met Matt, he loved you like no other. You felt like you meant something, or that you were worth it. Meeting Matt was possibly the best thing that happened to you. You finally felt special to someone after so long. You felt like you didn't have to worry about anything. That was until Matt posted last month.

There's been this girl sliding up on his stories, complimenting him Every time he posted on his story.

Today, you and Matt we’re going to a dinner he planned for your birthday. He bought you a beautiful black long sleeve maxi dress, and a necklace with his Name on it, in gold.

You thought the dress was beautiful but, when you went to put it on it wasn't hugging all the right places, it felt too tight. You wanted to cry, how could he be with someone like you? “Baby, are you ready to go?” Matt walked into the bedroom. He stood there, admiring you. “Yeah, I'm ready.” You responded, catching your tears with your index finger. Hoping Matt wouldn't notice but, knowing him, he was a big observer.

“H-hey baby, what's wrong love?” He walked up to you, turning you around.

“It's nothing really.” Matt knew you were lying, you had this look on your face Everytime you lied about something. Especially your feelings.

Matt walked over and sat you on the bed, sitting next to you. “Baby, talk to me.” “It's not-” “don't lie to me y/n.” Matt never called you by your name unless he was serious, wanting whatever he was saying to get through your head.

“It's just, I hate the way I look. I can't seem to look good in anything anymore.”

Anymore? What did you mean by that? Matt thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world, and he always told you that. Every day, every night. Matt would've thought by now that you thought the same thing. But even if you didn't, he’d be patient with you the whole way through.

“Love, you look beautiful in anything, and everything.” Matt admitted, You may have not believed him but, what he said is true. He truly thought you looked good in absolutely everything.

“No I don't. I mean, have you seen the girl in your DMs? You have to be texting her when I look like this.” You spoke, trying to stop your tears from ruining your makeup.

“Baby, who are you talking about?” Matt asked, confused with who you were talking about.

“That brunette chick. I don't know her name but God, she's so much better looking then me.”

Immediately when you said that, Matt took out his phone and pulled up Instagram. He handed it to you, “Show me and then block her.”

“W-what why?”

“Because if someone is making my girl feel this way. There's no way I'm letting them be in my DMs much longer at all. If anything, you're the only girl I need and want complimenting me every time.” Matt admitted.

He wanted his girl to be happy all the time, and if someone was making you feel this way. He didn't want to know about them at all. Matt just wanted to make his girl happy. You slid through his DMs until you found the girl you were talking about. You held Matt’s phone up to him.

“Her. That's who I'm talking about. I mean she's so gorge-” Before you could finish Matt cut you off.

“Baby, block her. Please.”

You did as he said and blocked her. You sighed, a feeling of pressure coming off your chest.

“Baby, there's no other girl that will ever be as gorgeous as you. You're the prettiest girl I've ever laid my eyes on, Since we met in Boston.” Matt told you, his hand coming up to your thigh.

You smiled, your insecurities slowly washing away. “You promise?"

“I promise.” He stood.

“Now how about we go to dinner? Then after I can show you how beautiful you are.” Matt smirked, picking you up bridal style.

“I'd like that.” you replied looking up at him.

“Don't look at me like that baby.”

“Like what?”

“Like that.”

You felt so loved, and maybe just maybe Matt loved you more than you had thought.

© ovrour

a/n: thank you guys sm for 200+ followers. I genuinely appreciate you guys so much. In honor, I wrote this little blurb. I hope you enjoy it! Love you all.🩷

lots of love, alondra🪷

taglist!!: @bernardsbendystraws @flouvela @sturnthepot @sturniolosarethebest @soupuurr @missmimii @conspiracy-ash @nickgetsmewetter @luvs4matt @luverboychris (if you would like to get added pls lmk!!)

[angelicgirlmj]

an angels guide: sunday reset routine

hi angels! at the end of a busy and long week you need to prioritise taking care of yourself, your mental health and your space. i like to save sundays to be a ‘me’ day, a day where i indulge in self care, cleaning and preparing myself peacefully for a busy week ahead. resetting your space and self can be an intensive routine (think thirty minute youtube videos of someone deep cleaning their house) or just simple and short (having an early night). this is my more aspirational reset routine, on an ideal sunday i will do all of this but some days i may negotiate and do a little less. hopefully this post inspires you to take care of yourself and your space.

space ˚₊‧꒰ა ꣑ৎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

open your windows, let air circulate.

wash bedding, pillowcases, towels and any face cloths.

light candles or incense to make your space smell good.

polish any mirrors and windows.

declutter surfaces or desks (put everything away and back into its place).

fold clothes and ensure wardrobe/drawers/clothes storage spaces are tidy.

wipe down surfaces.

clean any hair brushes, makeup brushes etc.

throw away any rubbish from bins or around you.

plan meals for the week ahead. look at what is in your fridge or cupboards and clear anything expired.

play calming playlist or playlist themed around the atmosphere you want to create in your space.

water any plants.

get new flowers/rid of old flowers.

plump any pillows, refold blankets and make your space cozy and safe feeling.

body ˚₊‧꒰ა ꣑ৎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

apply hair oils + hair mask and leave to soak in for the day.

do yoga/stretching in the morning.

drink a glass of water first thing.

eat nutritious meals that will allow your body to feel good.

go on a walk or exercise.

have bath/shower.

do full body exfoliation - scrub off dirt and grime from past week.

shave (if you shave your body hair).

apply deep, cleansing body washes and give self a massage of sorts.

drink tea/matcha.

clean teeth, floss, mouthwash and oil pull twice.

apply body oils, body lotions/creams.

finish day doing light stretching/yoga.

face ˚₊‧꒰ა ꣑ৎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

do full am and pm skincare routines.

ice face.

do gua sha routine.

apply a face mask.

tweeze/tidy eyebrows if that is a preference.

use a lip scrub or exfoliator.

gently facially exfoliate.

give self brief facial massage.

apply any spot treatments or specialised skincare.

mind ˚₊‧꒰ა ꣑ৎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

meditate in the morning.

journal and plan week ahead.

read at least one chapter of a book.

watch a comforting/relaxing show.

ensure all school work or anything similar is complete or at a point where it needs to be.

do something for yourself (paint your nails, colour, make something, bake etc).

plan ways to stay on top of any goals set.

set weekly goals and targets.

have an early night.

be off devices by eight if possible.

spend time with a family member or friend.

spend some time outdoors.

drink plenty of water.

thank you for reading angels! i hope this post is helpful and you have a relaxing and productive sunday. all my love, m.

[sweeterlovers]

SUNKISSED / CARLOS SAINZ

carlos sainz x gf!reader / SMAU FIC

FACE CLAIM / antonia kieselb

WARNINGS / google translated spanish

-

INSTAGRAM

liked by carlossainz55, carmenmmundt, and 66,825 others

yourusername first day in madrid with my love ❤️

view all comments

user4 such a cute a couple

user65 wishing you guys a great trip!!!

user5 gorg

carlossainz55 😍😍

yourusername 🥰🥰

user12 love!!

user88 your makeup is on point!!!!!!!

yourusername thank you!!! i literally just recorded a grwm soooo be prepared 😭

user55 finally!!!!

user02 i’m preparing my bank account for this!

-

INSTAGRAM

liked by yourusername, carlossainzoficial, and 245,783 others

carlossainz55 día de barco con mi amor y la familia [boat day with my love and the family]

view all comments

yourusername i love you 🤍🤍

carlossainz55 love you 😘

user1 i love the view….

user66 i know the sunset is unreal!

user1 i mean i was talking about carlos but the sunset is pretty good looking too

user4 😂😂

carlossainzoficial los quiero muchachos [love you guys]

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

carlossainz55 te amo [love you]

user00 omg!! i think that’s yn and one of his sisters!

user11 aww ☺️

-

INSTAGRAM

liked by carlossainz55, blancasainz95, and 69,252 others

yourusername outfit appreciation post!!!! 😘☺️

view all comments

user072 so gorgeous!

carmenmmundt bonita 😍😍😍 [pretty]

yourusername te amo carmen 🤍🤍 [love you]

user5 i need her closet!!

user666 seriously!

carlossainz55 mi niña bonita [my pretty girl]

yourusername eres tan lindo [your such a cutie]

user3 glowing!!

blancasainz95 ❤️

yourusername ❤️❤️

-

INSTAGRAM

liked by carlossainz55, reyesvdec, 97,562 others

yourusername last night in madrid but i can’t wait to be back and spend time with my second family 🤍 i always have an amazing time here with carlos and his whole family! i love you all so much! mucho amor [lots of love]

also for photo credits to @carlossainzoficial who knew you were a natural photographer 😘

view all comments

user5 prettiest!

carlossainzoficial Siempre puedes contar conmigo para buenas fotos porque todos sabemos que Carlos no puede. [you can always count on me for good photos because we all know carlos can’t]

yourusername 😂😂😂❤️❤️❤️

user8 i guess carlos didn’t receive those genes

carlossainz55 hey! i’m not that bad at taking photos ☹️

yourusername don’t worry! your good at other things!!

user23 i love how she has a good relationship with his family!

reyesvdec vuelve pronto [come back soon]

yourusername confía en mí lo haré! nunca me fui por más de un mes. [trust me i will! i’m never gone for more than a month]

reyesvdec 🤍

user173 you got so tan!!!

alexandrasaintmleux hermosa 🥰 [beautiful]

yourusername ❤️😘

-

INSTAGRAM

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 234,629 others

carlossainz55 Siempre lo paso muy bien con mi familia, especialmente cuando tengo a mi novia conmigo. Te amo mucho, eres mi mundo entero. Supongo que se podría llamar a esto una publicación de "aprecio a la novia". Gracias por estar siempre ahí para mí. [always a great time with my family especially when i have my girlfriend around with me. i love you so much your my whole world. i guess you could call this a "girlfriend appreciation" post. thank you for always being there for me.]

view all comments

user1221 aww!!!! 😊

yourusername your such a softie ☹️ i love you so much ❤️

carlossainz55 only for you bebé [baby]

user544 i need a carlos in my life…..

user23 seriously!!!! i’m jealous

user21 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

user501 i love how he takes photos of her! so cute

user269 i know! i love the photo of them on the boat ❤️

user14 match made in heaven!!

user47 love her outfits 💅

landonorris he was mine first 🤦‍♂️

yourusername not anymore 😋🤭

carlossainz55 sorry lando!!!

landonorris 😔

-

TEAM RADIO / SWEETERLOVERS - hope you enjoyed!!! i love carlos soo expect more posts about him!

[moonhoures]

Video Games

🕷️ kinktober — day 1: angry / makeup sex 🕸️

pairing: jay (enhypen) + reader (g/n)

genre: non-idol!au, mild angst, smut

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, pet name: ‘baby’ (for reader), unprotected sex, creampie

word count: ~1.9k

synopsis: jay is seemingly put in the doghouse after forgetting to pick you up from work like he promised. but there are some ways he can earn your forgiveness . . .

a/n: this is not as ‘angry’ as you’re probably picturing, but hopefully you guys like it nonetheless 😅 enjoy!

posted: october 1, 2023

kinktober masterlist

One thing. You asked him to remember one thing. “Don’t forget, I need you to pick me up from work at eight!” You told him twice and reminded him once more before you walked out of the apartment to catch a bus. Jay nodded each time, even going as far to say “Seriously, ________, I’m not a kid. I’ll remember” when you reminded him the last time.

Yet, you stood at the front door of your job at 8:17 p.m, looking and feeling stupid. Your arms were crossed tightly over your chest, and your face was stuck in an immovable scowl. You knew you should’ve taken your coworker’s offer to drive you home, but you had put your faith in your boyfriend to do what you asked of him. How silly of you.

You texted and called him multiple times before giving up; he wasn’t answering and he probably wasn’t going to any time soon. I swear if he’s playing those damn video games, you thought with a bite of aggravation. You loved your boyfriend to the moon and back, but if there’s one thing you didn’t like about him it was how attached to his games he got. He was majorly competitive, to the point it was difficult to get him off of the console, especially when he was close to winning whatever dumb game he was playing. And heaven forbid he’s playing with his friends who only encourage his habit even further.

After ten more minutes you went ahead and walked down the street to the bus stop. Your nerves were on edge and your head was on a swivel. You couldn’t help but curse Jay in your head for putting you in this position and making you so anxious. Since your car was in the shop, you had been picking up rides from him and your coworker. You wanted to avoid taking the bus at night at all cost, which is exactly why you nagged your boyfriend to pick you up tonight.

When you finally made it home, the door flung open without care, dinging against the door stopper just in front of the wall. It rattled a bit; you had hoped he would hear it and be startled. But when you walked through the living room, you were even more pissed to see him on the game with his head set on, his phone turned upside down on the table in front of him. Of course he didn’t get my texts and calls, he couldn’t see or hear them.

You scoffed, not giving him a second look as you stormed into your room and slammed the door shut. You vaguely heard him say “Hey, baby” as you got in the hallway.

You decided to run a bath to cool off before you went off on him and said some things you would regret. In the mean time Jay had found it odd you didn’t answer him, his brows knitting together. He wondered why you were in such a weird mood, but figured you might’ve just had a bad day. He shrugged and reached for his phone to check the time. Maybe I’ll have time for one more match, he thought. The screen of his phone lit up when he flipped it over, several missed notifications taking up the entire screen. Some social media notifications were interrupted by five missed texts and seven missed calls from you. Each text asking where he was, how long he would be, had he forgotten? His heart sank into his stomach.

“Shit.”

Jay tore off his headset and quickly logged out of the game, running to your bedroom door. His hand shifted the door knob but was met by resistance when he tried to open it. He closed his eyes in defeat and sighed. His knuckles tapped against the hard surface a few times, “Baby, open the door. I’m so sorry I forgot to pick you up.”

On the other side of the door, you ignored him, turning off the running water in the bath tub before walking back in the room to get some pajamas.

“________, please open the door. I’m really sorry. I know I fucked up,” he continued, voice dripping with sincerity, “I know you told me multiple times, and you don’t have to forgive me. But please just let me apologize to you. I don’t want you to go to bed upset.”

You paused at your dresser. Your determination to stay mad at him was slipping. But your pettiness wasn’t, “Did you win?”

Jay arched an eyebrow in confusion, “Huh?”

“Your game. Did you win? It must’ve been a really important match for you to forget about me.”

Jay let out a groan of annoyance, not so much with you but with himself, “Look, I’m sorry, okay? Really, I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I’ll do all the chores this weekend. I’ll cook your favorite dinner for you. I won’t play my games tomorrow.”

He heard your scoff from the hallway, practically heard your eye roll, too.

“I won’t play my games for a week,” he corrected himself, “A month even. Whatever it takes to get you to talk to me.”

His heart pounded as it grew uncomfortably quiet. He didn’t even hear your soft footsteps, so his eyes became wide when the door in front of him opened. You stood in front of him in just your robe, your disscontempt etched into your face. If looks could kill, he wondered if he would be six feet under already.

“I told you three times, Jay.”

“I know.”

He frowned, looking more ashamed than you had ever seen him. You secretly wished you didn’t love him so much. It made it harder to be upset with him. You wanted him to feel bad, at least for tonight.

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“I deserve that,” he agreed.

“And I’m gonna hold you to those promises,” you continued, “No games for two weeks.”

He was shocked that you had downsized the punishment from the month he suggested, but he didn’t show his surprise in case you took it back, “Okay.”

Your hardened stare lingered on him a little longer, and he grew nervous for what would come out of your mouth next. Little did he know you were actually thinking about how cute he looked. How mad you were at yourself for finding him so attractive at a time like this. Fuck you for being so hot, you thought, as if he could hear your thoughts.

“Are we good now?” he asked timidly. His hand cautiously reached up to cup your cheek in a sign of truce.

“You’ll have to earn your way back into my good graces,” you cracked a small smile.

“I’ll do anything,” he repeated, stepping closer to rest his hands on your waist. Your perfume lingered on your robe, filling his nose with the sweet, familiar fragrance that made his heart skip a beat.

“Anything?”

He nodded at your question, a smirk creeping onto his lips. If this was going in the direction he was thinking, then he was about to be a very happy man. His heartbeat accelerated as your hands found purchase on his chest, your palms flat over his pecs. Your eyes lingered on the small sliver of his collarbone that was exposed by the neckline of his t-shirt. When your gaze met his, there was a clear intention behind them that sent blood rushing to Jay’s loins.

Neither of you said anything as you tugged him into the bedroom and closed the door. In a matter of minutes you were on the bed, legs spread to make room for your boyfriend’s hips. Your robe was untied and thrown open as he slathered wet, sloppy kisses all over your neck and chest. Your hand was buried in his hair, pulling lightly on it to keep him where you wanted him.

“You’re gonna fuck me exactly how I want,” you panted, hips already bucking up against his clothed crotch. He moaned in affirmation, the vibrations tickling your nipple that was in his mouth.

“Gonna give me the best orgasm ever,” you added, looking down to see his eyes closed as he laved at your collarbone. They opened to look you in the eye as he came back face-to-face.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he assured you, nodding as he connected your lips with his once again.

Skin-on-skin contact and heavy breaths filled the room shortly after. Jay’s clothes were quickly discarded and he was pounding into you like his life depended on it. Your fingers gripped his back, loving the way you could feel his muscles flexing with every movement. He tried to hold back low grunts as your ankles locked around his waist, causing him to thrust deeper into you. He felt anchored down, but in the best possible way. This position was as close to paradise as he would probably ever get.

“Faster, Jay,” you breathed out, fingernails digging into his skin. He gritted his teeth and fastened his pace as much as he could.

“Fuck,” you cursed, legs tightening around him even more, “Jay, faster!”

“Baby, I’m trying,” he practically whimpered, his thrusts getting a little quicker, but also sloppier. He was losing stamina. You knew he was trying his best, you could just tell. You thought about giving him some slack, but then you remembered how you two got in this position in the first place. You weren’t going to go easy on him at all; he didn’t deserve it.

“Not trying hard enough,” you sighed in annoyance, moving your hips up against his thrusts for more stimulation, “You’re so annoying.”

“So suddenly?” he scoffed out a small laugh, looking at you incredulously. He knew you well enough to know you weren’t being completely serious. You were just letting out your aggression; he didn’t take it to heart.

“Y-yeah,” you panted, wincing when his cock hit a certain spot inside of you that felt a little too good, “You need to listen to me.”

He nodded, his arms shaking a bit from the energy was exerting trying to please you and keep himself stable, “I know, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll be better.”

“Promise?”

In that moment his gaze met yours, mere inches apart. Your breaths mingled between you, chests almost pressed against each other. He could tell you were getting close when he felt you growing tight around his dick. You always looked so beautiful like this—unraveling under him, by his own doing.

“Promise,” he sealed his words with a kiss against your lips, a low growl forming in his throat when you arms wrapped around his shoulders to hold him close to you. Your bodies pressed together like this, he could feel all of you; it drove him insane, “Now, cum for me.”

You were already well on your way when he spoke. Your legs constricted his lower body before growing slack at his sides. Your arms loosely circle him, keeping him close during the aftershocks of your orgasm. He came not long after, keeping slow, shallow thrusts until he came to a halt. He rested his face in the crook of your neck, simply cherishing the proximity to you.

“Can I join you for your bath?” he asked after your breaths had both settled back into their normal inflections.

“Sure, but the water’s probably cold by now. We’ll need to refill it,” your voice was sweet in answering him, as if any other answer would be ridiculous. Your next sentence, however, proved to humble him, “You’re still sleeping on the couch tonight, though.”

Jay cracked a smile, nodding in agreement as he helped you off the bed, “Understood.”

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedrswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @mrsdacherry @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite

[sleepynoons]

Underneath the Surface

As an attendant for the first Harbinger, Il Capitano, you work to maintain his household in Snezhnaya, though you can still only admire him from afar. But that distant reverence changes completely when you are offered another role that goes beyond your day-to-day and allows you to share a bond with him that no one else knows the true nature of. This is a dream come true, of course, but what happens when the dream ends? When will it end? And what will you do after it ends?

ooc!capitano x afab!f!reader, nsfw, 18+

word count: ~4,600

cw: power imbalance + unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, sadism/masochism, pain kink, knife kink, praise kink, predator/prey, ownership + master, use of other sharp objects (claws), temperature play, graphic descriptions of blood/injuries/bruises/pain/etc., sensory deprivation (blindfold), mentions of death + murder

notes: ok i know everyone is head over heels for capitano because big looming man + the mask and cape stay on during sex ikik i get it, but what if our captain had... a dark, serious, + slightly twisted personality? bc i imagine, in canon, for someone so committed to his work and the tsaritsa, his sense of justice and overpowering physical strength could prevent him from making rash decisions like being in a relationship with another... anyway, my take on capitano! tysssssm to @staraxiaa for beta-reading and letting me yap away in our discord <33 lena, could not have churned this out any earlier if it were not for your enthusiasm and hypnosis. ily queen. anyway, hope y'all enjoy!

THE HALLS are still, silent aside from the occasional clanking of metal weaponry. All of the soldiers and attendants are holding their breaths, anticipating for what is to come. You, too, wait, immobile, on the edge of your chair in front of the vanity. You avoid your reflection in the mirror, but appearances are of utmost importance, so you busy yourself by repeatedly smoothing the pleats of your silk nightgown. 

It has been two long months since you have fallen back into this routine: waking before sunrise, dressing with your finest gowns and lingerie, and awaiting his instruction throughout the day. Of course, you still behave in an appropriate manner befitting of his grace when he is not around, but there is no need to impress. Not many are aware of the nature of your agreement with him, anyway.  

A soldier’s call can be heard from outside your window, a signal of his grace’s arrival from the accompanying blare of a horn. You suck in a sharp breath, pursing your lips as you hold, before exhaling completely. You have half an hour.

Making your way around his chamber, you go about your final checks. He has always been particular with the way things should be, his sense of justice and discipline underlying and interweaving with every aspect of his own life. You blow away specks of dust from his bookshelves, tie the chiffon of the bed canopy curtains to their posts, and return your makeup on the vanity back to a pouch, not before dabbing on a bit more powder and curling your eyelashes once more.

The half hour passes quickly, and you rush to stand by the door as you hear the heavy thuds of his boots approach. You bow your head and curtsy as he steps in. It is important that you do not look at him until he permits. He does not greet you, simply strides over to the bathroom and shuts the door behind him, heading to his closet farther beyond.

You sigh with relief. He did not take you immediately.

The next step of the routine is to wait for him to change. Beyond the door, you hear the faint rustle of heavy fabric hitting the floor, silver and bronze embossings clicking against sharp nails, and the occasional low grunt. You would assist him if you could, but no one has seen him without his fur coat and mask. You consider yourself lucky to have seen him without his cloak, but you, too, have never witnessed his visage. It is strange, though. As per your contract, you are supposed to help him with such tasks. Shrugging, you figure there is no need to hypothesize. You would never dare to act like you understand his grace and how he thinks and acts.

If he still does not speak to you when he returns, the burden falls on you to initiate.

You watch as the door handle twists before the door swings open. Instinctively, you lower your gaze and nod your head once in greeting. Pausing a beat, you give him a chance to speak if he wants. But he does not.

“Your grace,” you say.

He walks over to you, standing in front of where you sit on the edge of his bed. A gloved hand rests on the crown of your head – firm, cold. It traces the shape of your skull, sliding down to your ear, sharp metal claws scraping against the cartilage and the tender skin of your neck. He continues along the path of your jawline before holding your chin between his index finger and thumb. You are still looking downwards, only able to see up to his clothed forearm. Holding you steady, he appraises you and the effort you put into yourself. You try to relax under his gaze, not as an act of defiance or resistance but rather as a demonstration of your trust and loyalty in him. His grace knows best, after all. His criticism is guidance, only out of best interest for you, his praise gospel, miraculous stories to pass down for generations.

He hums. It is a deep, satisfied rumble.

“Well done,” he praises, releasing his hold. “I am relieved to be back.”

It is not often that his grace is content. He is rarely appeased with his own efforts. Naturally, you feel a sense of giddiness, a shiver of delight threatening to shake up your still frame. You even notice an urge of want for him, hoping that he would pay just a little more attention to the way you did your hair or the new perfume you are wearing or how the color of the night gown compliments the curves and rolls of your body. A stroke of luck, you think, to keep your dangerous emotions at bay. You must reflect on tonight and emulate what went well going forward.

Before you can relay your gratitude to your captain, he continues to speak. “I would like to try something different tonight.”

He pulls a wide silk scarf out from his pocket and wraps the navy fabric around your head, thereby obscuring your vision. The lack of light in the room, along with the dark shade of the blindfold, make it impossible for you to see anything beyond the faint silhouette of your hands as you stretch them out in front of you to test the opacity of the silk. But this is nothing out of the ordinary.

You startle as he splays his palm on your back and slides an arm underneath your legs. He picks you up, as if you are but a mere feather, and repositions you so that you are lying down on the bed.

“It will hurt. Will you be able to take it?” he asks. Void of his usual assertiveness, he is shedding his role of a Harbinger, melting into a simple person who wants his desires fulfilled. He is speaking to you with caution and respect, fulfilling his end of his contract, as your master, your owner, to ensure that tonight’s experience will be pleasurable for you as well. However, you know the power and strength he holds beyond the walls of his bedroom will never fully escape your conscience. It is your obligation to protect yourself from dire harm, but you cannot deny him the opportunity to experiment, in fear of retaliation and punishment.

You reply, “How painful?”

The bed dips beside your hip, and you feel the leather of his glove rub into your thigh.

“I will use my gloves and a knife.”

Scared or excited, you cannot tell. At his words, you become acutely sensitive towards the feel of his gloved hand as he continues to glide it up and down your leg. You can almost taste the steely, icy sting of his claws digging into the fat of your thigh, breaking the skin just enough for beaded crimson to trickle, not enough to scar permanently.

“Your grace, is this a punishment?”

“Not at all.” His hand travels farther up and pushes the lace trim of your nightgown aside to reveal your underwear underneath. He pulls at the ribbons at the side, slowly untying the thong, as he chuckles, “It is a reward, for your effort and time.”

The praise is doing wonders to you. You feel dizzy, light, and hot in the head, and the pulsing in your core intensifies, your hole fluttering and throbbing in tandem with the escalating rate of your heartbeat. Even though you cannot see, you can almost sense him smiling, perhaps at the wetness that is spotting your underwear or possibly even the state of your whole being, showing his understanding of and command over your body.

The latter seems likely as he presses his claws into your skin, as if to counter and neutralize your raging internal inferno. The cold shocks the nerves at the juncture where your hip connects to your leg, where the ribbon of your panties used to be tied at.

“I will start easy,” he explains. To demonstrate, he curls his fingers and pushes, channeling all of the pressure into the tips of his claws and persists until they shallowly latch into your skin. You squirm, jump, and whimper at the pain. It hurts more than you had expected, though you really had no point of comparison in the first place. You continue to shudder as he holds his fingers in place, probably gauging your reaction.

“Th-that is alright,” you manage to stammer. The pinch may be harsh, but it does not draw blood or bring tears to your eyes, simply a scraping of the surface of your skin. You can withstand a little more, you reassure yourself. This is your reward. Without a word, he moves his hands back down to your thighs and scratches your right.

The motion is fast, clean. In fact, your body and mind do not react to the two long, slanted cuts he leaves, the blood only spilling milliseconds after the damage has been done. The pain comes even later. At first, you feel nothing, and even the thin streams of blood flowing out of the wounds only leave a wet sensation on your otherwise untainted legs. But then, the stinging comes, akin to that of an unexpected paper cut. Except, with each passing second, it gets worse, as if the paper cut is being pulled along and extended, and your leg strains against his hold to move, to distract itself from the harm inflicted. Crimson is sure to be leaking from the full length of the cuts, and at the back of your throat, you can almost taste the coppery scent of oxidizing iron.

When he moves to repeat the same onto your other leg, you bite the inside of your cheek to prepare for the incoming pain. Part of your role is to adapt quickly, and in this case, you have to sense and react to his grace’s next steps immediately. The chiseled points of his nails cut through your skin like a large kitchen knife slicing through even the toughest of ingredients – precise, swift, ignorant of any and all resistance.

You have never gone this long with just pain, let alone be deprived of one of your senses. Nights with his grace are inevitably bound to be painful, but in his own way, he softens the blows and plows of his roughness and aggression by pleasuring your body.

Your first morning after, you woke up unable to feel anything past your waist. Throughout the night, to show you just exactly what you were getting yourself into, he forced you to reach peak after peak after peak as a test of your endurance, stamina, loyalty. Though, you were more shocked to see the purpling bruises encircling your ankles and wrists, as if his grace had used cuffs on you. But he had not. Those bruises were entirely inflicted by his tight hold on you, shackling you down as you thrashed and kicked and instinctively attempted to escape, serving the same purpose in chaining your life and mercy to his will.

One’s ideals – justice – will always come at the cost of another’s freedom – autonomy.

But you are not opposed to such limitations. Out of all of the Harbingers, you are endlessly grateful that it is his grace who is your leader. Even though he may not be your direct master beyond the clauses of your contract, he is dutiful and considerate towards those who swear an oath to his name. You come from a family of Fatui soldiers, some of the best and the brightest, many trained under the watchful supervision of his grace, so from birth, you have been taught to idolize him. But to have your idol recognize you? Speak to you? Bed you? Unheard of, and to this day, you are not sure why he chooses you, time and time again. You cannot even fathom how he knows of you – a simple, one-of-several attendants who maintain his mansion of a home under the instruction of the head butler.

The nature of your contract with him is simple. (His grace often comments how he much prefers the dealings of the Liyuen people, how quick they are to draw up agreements and negotiations, compared to the conniving nature of some of his colleagues.) Whenever he returns, you shall take care of his personal desires and wants, as he will with yours. You are to fully commit yourself to him, trust in his intuition to know how to treat you accordingly, and he expects you to reciprocate, to satisfy him to the best of your abilities.

Your role is not as physically taxing as it is mentally laborious. His grace is rarely home – you recently heard he has a surge of dealings in Natlan that require his attention –, so your body is not under constant stress. However, when you are with him, you behave as if every night together is a performance review, a test of your memory, if you remember how to overcome your instincts to hold your body still enough in place, if you remember the way he gravitates towards elegant silk dresses and kimonos, if you remember that he will never apologize but will wrap gauze around your wounds when you are asleep.

You know you are expendable. As soon as you fail to satisfy him, he could – will – discard and replace you. While he has never outright pressured you, you know his grace is assessing you as well. But you cannot help but wonder – hope – that there is something about you – something so intrinsic and bespoke about you – that explains why, even in your failings, he will not let you go. You are sure there are faults that lie in you that you cannot see, that he will see. Yet, because you have not been let go, you wonder if he is alright with slight imperfections because it is no one other than you.

Regardless, you must not be too full of yourself. That is a cardinal sin with respect to his grace’s values. The strong become the weak as soon as they overestimate themselves, he would often preach.

You are brought back by a building pressure at your ankles. You raise your head to look down, to no avail. But you can feel his gloves, now slightly warm from being in contact with your body, wrapping themselves around your protruding bones, tighter and tighter, the chains locking with finality. There is a buzz in your toes from the constriction of circulation, and you bite on your lower lip to prevent yourself from whining at the bruising grip he has on you. You count beats in your head, seconds not true to time, muddled by the exhilarated racing of your heart, foolishly trying to distract yourself by examining his grace’s behavior instead. How long will he hold for? How long does it take to leave stubborn bruises that will remain for at least three days? Is it supposed to hurt this much?

But all of those questions and concerns do not matter anymore as soon as he speaks. “I was right in choosing you.”

As if his affirmation was not enough, he releases your legs and moves up the bed to embrace you. Winding his arms around you, he lifts you a margin off the bed so that your chests touch, your silk against his thick black wool. One of his hands then comes up to cradle the back of your head, gently brushing and patting you, almost like he is lulling you to sleep. You melt, and you have never felt such a strong urge to wrap him in your own arms.

Perhaps you can be a bit greedy tonight? Throwing caution to the wind, you mumble, “Y-your grace, may I…?”

His approving hum makes your heart trill with joy. To avoid any mishaps, you place your hands on his arms, following their sturdy build until you reach his shoulders. From here, your fingertips can brush against his flowing black hair. It is coarse and thick, and you muster all of your willpower to resist the urge to run your hands through the locks.

As if reading your mind, he says, “You can touch my hair, if you so wish.”

“That was not my intention,” you reply, fighting the smile threatening to bloom on your face. 

He insists by leaning closer to you, so that you are forced to feel the front, shorter strands of his hair poke at your exposed clavicles. You can even argue that you can feel his breath from here, but then again, does his grace breathe? Is he man or monster? (Benefactor or foe?)

“I shall resume.” And he proceeds to grab you at the waist, gripping you as tightly as he did to your ankles, and you feel the same pressure building within you. But you can hold on longer, after all. This is a reward.

He pushes the silk dress all the way up to your neck and exposes your upper body. As your body tenses in response to the cold, he pokes at the goosebumps appearing on your skin, as well as uses the tip of a nail to trace your areolae, centimeters away from your perked nipples. He circles them for two eight-counts, slow and drawling, before suddenly pinching and tugging at them. You yelp – an unintended mistake – and arch your back. He is still clothed, and the metal buttons and chains of his blazer dig into your skin for the briefest of moments, eliciting another wave of shudders from you.

And the worst of the pain comes. He gives one last pinch to your nipples before moving his hands to your sides where your rib cage lies right underneath. He rubs his thumbs over the bump of each bone, gliding his fingers back and forth, perpendicular to the way your bones curve inwards to protect your insides. You do not know this, but he is searching, identifying where he will lay his wreckage next, between which ribs to leave his trace. Then, he curls his claws into you, a bone or two below your breasts, and sinks them into you, slowly wounding you parallel to the slanted direction of your cage.

It is unbearable. There is no way to prevent yourself from screaming and sobbing. Tears drench the blindfold within seconds, and you can only distract yourself by tightening your embrace around his neck and digging your own nails into your forearms to somehow transfer the pain elsewhere, overwhelm your brain so that it cannot perceive the full extent of the damage being done to your chest. Otherwise, you can only hope that his grace is understanding and allows you to wail at the gashes he is leaving.

And what about appearances? Surely, your body will be marred from tonight and may not ever fully erase the signs of tonight’s activities.

You freeze. Your blood chills. Physical pain dims and recedes to the back of your mind.

Appearances… do matter. If you dared to come up with any reason as to why his grace has chosen you, it would only be sensible to conclude that it is because of the way you look, no? Prior to your first night together, you had never interacted with him before – he did not even present the contract for this partnership to you – the head butler did! Therefore, there is no possibility that his grace knows you well, aside from direct reports from the head butler and, perhaps, passing comments from your family. And he would definitely not choose you for your talents, as you have none.

In fact, the only reason you are in the castle is quite simple. Though you are not disowned by your family, you are not treated as one of them. You were sickly throughout childhood, meaning you could not start training early enough. Even if you had enrolled later on, you would have never been sufficient enough in your capabilities to reach the high official ranks that your family has held onto for decades. Lacking the combat prowess your other siblings, parents, and ancestors have, you will never be able to fulfill your lineage’s mission to the Tsaritsa. Therefore, you had to find other ways to serve the Fatui, and your search led you to his grace’s household.

There is nothing to your person besides a family crest that does not want to claim you and a corporeal weak to the natural winds and storms of Snezhnaya. And, truly, the only thing you have all to yourself is this body of yours, something you can willingly choose to offer as long as it cooperates with you.

Is this it? After he scars and carves and rips you open, not even this anatomy of yours will be yours ever again. Is he to leave his mark on you forever, only to end this arrangement soon after?

Your wails are no longer because of your flesh being torn apart by cold, ruthless hands, hands that know the feel and taste and rotting warmth of blood. Instead, these wails are ones afraid of a future without these hands, these nails that are now also stained with your blood and skin and tears. When he cleans these gloves later, you can only hope the alcohol does not eradicate all of your traces.

He does not stop until the gashes reach the ends of your rib cage. 

Taking deep breaths from your mouth, you gasp for air as he pulls away and sits back on his heels to examine your state – spent, covered in spit and blood and cold sweat, many things but your usual demureness.

You are incapable of keeping up such a ruse. You are too exhausted and tortured to even feign obedience. Though, if his grace asked, you would try for him, despite knowing you would barely be able to put on a show. Because for him, you would, without a beat of doubt or hesitation, take on any role if he asked you of it, as long as you can share a private bond with him, one that no else knows the intimate details of. 

You hear shuffling, a pocket being pulled open – good, blood stains thread quite stubbornly –, and a quick flick of something clicking into place.

“This will be the last thing I do to you tonight. Raise your arm.”

You do as he says, barely feeling your forearms and beyond. He catches your hand and turns it over so that your palm is facing the ceiling.

The smooth, cool surface is recognizable, even to someone who has not fought in years. He places the flat side of the blade against your skin, letting it soak and adjust to your broiling heat. Once it is warm enough, he makes quick work, making short cuts in various directions around your wrist, over the spot where you take your pulse. As he works, he turns your wrist around as needed. The cuts always sting a bit at first before the sensation of the next being made takes over. You miserably think how you will never be able to marry with the way his grace is etching himself into you.

It does not take long, given how skilled he is.

But the routine has been disrupted, and when he sets your arm down, you are not sure what to do next. Usually, you would be unconscious by now. But you are wide awake, body thrumming and pulsing, sending signals to all the places where your nerves are exposed.

Again, you think back to the same question. Is this supposed to be my reward?

“You will now rest.” His grace’s voice commands, leaving no space for argument.

So you ask, instead of objecting. “And my body?”

“We will leave it as is. I need them to mark.” He enunciates with finality. You are unable to probe further, unable to even get a glimpse of what he means beyond his statements.

You manage to croak, “My apologies, your grace, for failing to restrain myself this evening.”

He only places his hand on the crown of your head, soft smooths and pats, like at the very beginning of tonight, before everything that has since occurred. 

Perhaps, what you long for, whether that be his touch or his coldness or his grace himself, is salvation. Someone who can bestow you with a responsibility so you can make yourself useful, find value in your being beyond a last name and damaged flesh. Despite tonight, you still want his grace to be with you, even if that means he devours you whole by the morning. Because you are already indebted to him for your employment. And you now owe him more than ever for permitting you to invade the confines of his space, to be surrounded by everything that is his, to feel him. To be something special is what you deeply, most greedily covet, and you are fearful that, in the near future, you will not be the only person who can say they have seen the captain without his coat on. Because without his grace, what will you become? Who are you? What are you?

Rather than relieve your body of strain through arousal and pleasure, tonight, he provides tepid comfort through the slow tempo of his hand against your head, an intangible poultice against your physical wounds. Inside, you realize that, all along, the reward has been his grace’s direct kindness and generosity towards you. And you tell yourself to enjoy these last remnants of his undivided attention, and fall asleep. 

In the morning, you do as planned. Wake early. Bathe in scorching hot water even though it could rot your untended wounds. Dress in a burgundy long-sleeved gown. Prepare your hair and makeup. Pray that this dawn is not the last sunrise you will share with him.

Before you leave the bedroom to greet his grace, who is no doubt already working in his office, you sigh, filled with a deep sense of shame, disappointment, and mourning, though these words are futile in fully grasping all that festers within you.

But the walls of this bedroom know something you do not. And they think you ought to know, as they watch you leave with palpable dejection.

They have seen their owner evolve and age over time. Yet, they have only seen him exhilarated barely a few times – and rarely excited and riled up by the same thing more than twice.

The walls see, hear, smell everything about their owner.

Last night, amidst your cries, his grace was huffing with exertion, pouring effort and energy into your body. His eyes widened, pupils dilated, at the way your body struggled under his hold, yet you only held him closer. Mouth gaped in awe at how you screeched from the pain yet did not fight back even as an animalistic instinct to survive. He was practically leaking bloodlust, or more specifically, a strong urge to claim, overwhelm, overpower you. And he did so, purposely not leaving you bandages on the night table as always so that the wounds would stay intact. These cuts and gashes and tears shall never disappear from your body, and you will never forget the pain he has inflicted upon you. He has engraved himself into you because, while his righteousness and loyalty to the Tsaritsa come first, he will still return to you when he can. And he does not want you to forget that, even if this reminder comes in the form of garish wounds and the delicate traces of a bracelet in your skin.

The walls know why his grace chooses you. What you really should know is how much of an abnormality you really are. And his grace adores that about you.

[theragethatisdesire]

pretty girl - jean kirschtein x afab!reader - 18+!!!

there's def more eren coming but while that's in the works please enjoy the result of the jean brainrot i experienced the other day. fair warning- it's going to get pretty rough, but that's what you asked him for ;)

pairing: reader x jean kirschtein

wc: 4.6k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, established relationship (jean's ur gorgeous bf lucky u), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, pretty rough sex, vaginal fingering, biting, dirty talk, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, daddy kink, use of names (pretty girl, crybaby, good girl), very dom jean, multiple orgasm, dacryphilia/crying, creampie

this one was super fun and is very tasty u guys enjoy <3

-

-> be there in 5 babe :)

You are not looking forward to this, to say the least. You pace madly around your little apartment in a massive t-shirt and sweatpants covering the skimpiest lingerie set you own. It’s got all the bells and whistles: a matching garter belt, lace in all the right places, stockings that come up to where your plush thighs are the fattest. You should be looking forward to this, you tell yourself, candles lit and ambient lighting ready to go. You have a gorgeous boyfriend who’s going to “be here in five”, and you should be brimming with excitement. But…you’re just not.

Jean’s been in your life for a few months now. What had started as a run-in at the coffee shop around the corner had turned into candlelit dinners, movie marathons, and exclusive titles, and you adore him. His sandy brown hair, the tattoo on his strong bicep, pretty hazel eyes– Jean’s sexy, loving, sarcastic, attentive, literally everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. Except when it comes to your sex life, that is.

The sex isn’t bad per se, you just can’t shake the feeling that he’s holding something back from you. He’s almost too perfect; he’s gentle with you, always taking care to ask permission before touching you, chaste kisses as he slides in, hand-holding in missionary. He cums every time, immune to the whiskey-dick you’d expect from his bourbon drinking habit, so you know he’s enjoying himself, but he doesn’t always seem all there. The fire just isn’t in him, and you know he has that side to him. You’ve seen those hazel eyes you love so much blaze, in a heated argument, at the gym. Why it doesn’t happen in your intimate moments is beyond you, it’s like he’s afraid to break you, like he’s not doing everything–

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Shit, knocking on your front door is what he’s doing.

You take one last look in the mirror: hair’s casual, but still sexy, makeup to a minimum, all straps and lace covered up by your inconspicuous pajamas. Time to potentially ruin your relationship.

“Hey beautiful,” Jean greets you with an innocent smile, “you look cozy.”

“Feel cozy,” you accept his kiss, chewing on your lip as he comes in. Your heart’s pounding in your ears; poor thing has no idea what’s to come. Maybe it’ll go well, you think; false hope might be the only thing that gets you to pull through with your plan.

“Have any movie ideas for tonight? I was thinking Hereditary, but only if you’re not too chicken…” Jean raises his eyebrows, a taunting smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Ha! If only he knew all of the things you aren’t “too chicken” for.

You smile weakly, stomach churning. “Maybe. Can we just…can we just talk for a sec?”

Jean’s playful demeanor drops instantly, replaced by a faint frown. “What about?”

You amble over to the couch, playing with the strings of your sweatpants anxiously. How the fuck are you even supposed to bring this up? Your mind’s racing so quickly it draws a blank, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt: “Sex.”

“Sex?” Jean’s cheeks tinge pink. He hasn’t shaved in probably a week, a shadow covering his sharp jawline. God, he’s gorgeous, you can’t mess this up, you really can’t.

“Yeah,” you confirm, “sex. Our sex, to be clear.”

“I figured as much,” Jean’s sat himself beside you now, one eyebrow raised suspiciously. He’s not upset, not yet, but you’ve definitely caught him off guard.

“I– I feel like we’re on different pages,” you stammer– fuck you are so bad at this, “I just feel like sometimes you’re so…gentle, and you don’t necessarily, like, have to be?”

Jean’s frowning full on now, a precious little wrinkle appearing in the center of his forehead. You’ve hurt him, and your heart sinks. Probably should have started with the pros. “Like…what do you mean, by ‘don’t have to be gentle’?”

“Our sex life is great,” you try to smile enthusiastically, as if you don’t actually want to blow your brains out right now, “please don’t think I’m saying you’re bad in bed or anything. I just, like– okay, for example, have you ever tried anything rough?”

His mouth is a flat line. “Like what?”

“Like, handcuffs, or roleplay, any of that stuff.”

“What have you tried?” His voice is even, collected, but there’s something simmering in him that you can’t put your finger on. It’s not anger, but it tastes similar, running in the same vein but not quite there. It’s your turn to feel your face warm.

“I mean, I’ve tried handcuffs before. Some light slapping, spanking.” You’re twiddling your thumbs, confessing into your lap. You can feel his eyes on you.

“That it?”

“I guess.”

“Did you…enjoy that kind of stuff?” He’s taking the bait. You finally meet his gaze and it ignites a little fire in your stomach; he’s never looked at you this intensely, brows pinched together like you’re a puzzle he’s trying to figure out. All of these little mannerisms are tells, you’re intuitive enough to know that, but exactly what he’s trying to convey you just can’t figure out.

“Yeah.”

“How rough are we talking, here?” Jean sounds deeper than normal, the slightest bit of strain to his words. That’s definitely new; Jean’s the most unshakeable person you’ve ever met.

“If I’m making you uncomfortable, I–”

“You’re not making me uncomfortable,” an easy chuckle floats out of his mouth, “just trying to feel you out is all.”

Your brows furrow. “Feel me out?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Surprised?” Your nose wrinkles. “Did I ever give off the impression that I was, like, super vanilla or something?”

“No,” he laughs again, a bit of the tension melting from the room, “no, not that. We’re just still pretty new, that’s all. Wasn’t going to whip out everything in my toolbox ‘til I knew you were okay with it.”

That piques your interest; you think you’d very much like to see what’s in this toolbox of his. “So you do like some of this stuff?”

Jean rolls that thought over in his mind for a beat before responding, a suspicious smirk that you can’t read tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I guess you could say I like some of this stuff.”

“We’re back to my original question then: what do you like?”

“I’m more worried about what you like,” Jean says, “especially since you won’t come right out and say it. Gonna make me guess?”

That’s your Jean, blunt as ever. The fire in your stomach sparks and spits at the conversation, teasing and tempting. There’s something playful to his words; you can’t shake this feeling that you’re missing something, that he’s toying with you, but you like it. You let him keep pushing, see where he’s leading you. “Sure, guess.”

“Do you like…” Jean trails off, examining you with his chin nestled between his thumb and index finger, “to be dominant?”

“No.”

��Submissive, then.”

“Yeah.” He likes that, you can tell by the way his eyes glint at you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“Like to be tied up?”

“Already told you about the handcuffs.”

“I bet you have a praise kink.”

That has you flustered. There’s a sinking sensation in your stomach that you’ve underestimated him, waded out too deep into the water, but fuck it, you’re already here. “How’d you know?”

Jean smiles, pleased. “I just do. Overstimulation?”

“Sure.”

“Orgasm denial? Degradation?”

“If I deserve it.” It’s a bold answer, but it makes Jean suck in a sharp “fuck” between his teeth. Oh yes, you’ve definitely underestimated him.

“You like to be punished, don’t you?” His hand has traveled up to cup your jaw, thumb playing absentmindedly with your bottom lip. There’s an anticipatory warmth gathering between your legs, and the air between you both is practically crackling, charged by the tension thrumming through both of your bodies.

“Yes,” it comes out in a breath, almost pathetic, but you can’t help yourself. He looks so good, always does, and now he’s grazing his eyes over you like he wants to take a bite.

“You know how safewords work?” You nod a bit too eagerly. “Ours is going to be red, okay?”

“Okay,” you’re agreeing, but you aren’t entirely sure what to, caught up in the soft rubbing of his thumb over your mouth.

“If your mouth is,” a deep breath shakes through his frame, “occupied, give me a sharp pinch with your nails.”

“I can do that,” the tension between you is palpable now, the room’s so hot that you’re surprised your wallpaper isn’t peeling off.

“Go to your room,” Jean releases you, eyes dark and hungry, “take your clothes off and wait for me on the bed. I’ll be in soon.”

You follow his instructions without thinking twice, as if a switch has flipped in your brain. Maybe it was his tone, an authoritative way of speaking that threatens consequence, or maybe you’re just so ready to see what this perfect boyfriend of yours has been hiding all this time. As you’re getting undressed, you realize he still doesn't know about your lingerie. You bite back a smile, kneeling on the bed. This is going to be so good.

A minute or so ticks by slowly, and just when your legs are starting to ache, Jean’s entering your room. His face darkens in a way you’ve never seen before when he sees your little get up; lightning shoots through your core.

“Put on a pretty outfit just for me?”

“Mhm,” you hum.

“That’s good,” he says in that slow drawl of his, “good girl.”

He’s only testing the waters, but you can feel your body viscerally react to the little pet name, shifting on your knees to mask your desperate attempt for friction, dampness spreading in your panties. Jean sees right through your act, smirking.

Jean joins you in undressing, slipping his shirt over his head. You take your time admiring his torso; miles of long, lean muscle, little ripples by his ribs trailing into a ridiculous six-pack. Jean’s a confessed gym rat, and it shows in every little line along his body. You have to blink and look away before you start salivating.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Jean scolds, tilting your head up towards him, “eyes on me, got it?”

“Got it,” you answer. Jean frowns.

“That’s not very nice,” he says, “try again.”

You go out on a limb. “Yes, sir.”

Jean’s eyes glint again in that mean, pretty way you saw earlier. You did good, you did good for him. “Much better. Get on the floor.”

You slide off of your mattress, practically buzzing with anticipation, settling on your knees in front of him. A low groan rumbles in Jean’s chest.

“Look so good like that, my pretty girl.”

Oh, you really like that, nuzzling against his hand on your head. Jean smiles down at you, inching his pants down until that little thatch of brown hair starts revealing itself. “Open up for me, nice and wide.”

Your jaw’s dropped, mouth open and tongue out, expectant. Jean smiles wider, sharp and dangerous, pulling his cock out for you. He taps the head against your tongue a few times, even slaps you with it, facade faltering for a fraction of a second to gauge your reaction. You’re good for him, sitting still and patient with your mouth still open, a drop of drool starting to slide off the end of your tongue. Jean makes a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a chuckle.

“Oh, you’re an obedient little thing, aren’t you?” Your panties grow impossibly wetter, you wiggle on your thighs under him, earning yourself another slap of his cock on your tongue, heavy and drooling. “Gonna fuck this pretty face, okay?”

You close your mouth around his head, sucking lightly to show your approval. He’s not even touched you, not so much as a kiss, and your brain’s foggy, running like a hamster on a wheel chasing the circular thought of be good, be good, be good. Jean grabs your hair none-too-gently, tugging it at the roots, and starts canting his hips towards your mouth, muttering under his breath about how good you are, how good your mouth feels on him.

You lower your jaw ever so slightly, and before long, Jean’s picking up speed, knocking your gag reflex here and there and making you cough around him. He doesn’t seem overly concerned; in fact, he grins cruelly down at you when he hits an extra-sensitive spot, making you hunch and gag on him.

“Look at my pretty girl, so happy getting her mouth fucked,” he hisses when you moan around him, feeling the vibrations up his cock. He’s moving faster now, rougher than he’s ever been. You’re gagging with some regularity, tears welling up in your eyes and threatening to spill down your cheeks. You expect him to let up, give you some air, but it only spurs him on, and before you know it, there are thick streams of tears running down your face. Your jaw aches, your knees burn, but you stay, letting him use you how he pleases.

“Fucking crying on me,” Jean growls, “my cock too much for you?”

You try to answer with a shake of your head, but he’s relentless, fingers tightening in your hair and cock shoving to the back of your throat, making you retch.

“No, you love it, don’t you? My little crybaby.”

You’re so wet you can feel it gathering on the insides of your thighs, entirely soaked through your panties. You move your hips subtly, this way and that, desperate for friction. Jean notices, pulling out of your mouth but staying connected by a string of your spit.

“You squirming, pretty girl? Need some attention?”

“Yes, sir,” you rasp, nodding eagerly. Jean helps you up onto the bed, lays you back against his chest facing the mirror on top of your wardrobe. It’s a terribly lewd sight; you spread out in front of him, face swollen and teary, the telltale glisten of wetness glittering on your thighs.

Jean slides a hand down your body, rubbing you over your panties and nibbling at your ear. “You’re gonna watch me make you cum, and if I see you look away, I’m fucking you ‘til I cum, and you’re not getting a damn thing. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” your voice wobbles pathetically. Jean seems to like it; his cock twitches in interest against your back. He pushes your panties to the side, flicking his fingers faster over your clit. Embarrassingly enough, you’re already nearing your halfway point from the face-fucking, moaning and grinding up into his palm.

“Need something?”

“Mhm,” you grit out, jaw clenched. Jean slaps your pussy; not too hard, but firm enough to make you jolt, bring you a moment of clarity.

“Manners,” he reminds you sharply.

“I’m sorry, I– can I please have a finger?”

Jean’s placated, slides one finger into you and laughs hot against your neck at the obscene sound that tears from your throat. “What do we say when we get what we ask for?”

“Thank you– fuck, thank you,” your words are coming out in puffs of breathe. Jean has long, skilled fingers, a fact you’re already familiar with, but the position he’s put you in has you dripping onto the sheets: forcing you to watch as he pumps in and out of you, grinding into your clit with the heel of his hand. You’ll be lucky if you last another minute.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? My pretty girl likes being full, right?” Jean murmurs, hot against the shell of your ear. “Tell me.”

“Yes, sir, I– I like it, I need– fuck!”

“What do you need?” Jean coos, entertained, as if he’s not unraveling you with just the one.

“I want one m-more finger, please,” you stutter, relieved you’re able to get the words out at all.

“Learning so fast,” Jean kisses your shoulder, granting your wish. His fingers are thick, the slight stretch making you throw your head back against his shoulder, hips rolling into his hand of their own accord. “Still looking?”

You force your head back to its upright position, mindful of the threat in his tone. His fingers work faster at your obedience, curling insistently against the gummy spot inside your walls that makes you see stars, makes you a little out of your mind with need. It’s that out-of-mind dizziness in your head that causes your little slip-up:

“Fuck, please, more- more, Daddy.”

Jean’s fingers still; it’s not until you’re halfway into a whine of disappointment that you realize what you’ve said. Your face burns; you meet his eyes in the mirror, yours shot wide and embarrassed. You trip over your words, trying to explain yourself. That definitely hadn’t been mentioned in your earlier conversation.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, I just–”

“Just what? Already so fucked out you can’t think straight?” Jean curls his fingers pointedly against your walls, punching a groan from your chest.

“Yeah,” you sigh, head growing cloudy again.

“Say it again.” That definitely isn’t what you expect to hear him mutter against your neck. Jean works a third finger into your cunt with some difficulty, stretching you to your limits. “Fucking say it, or you’re not cumming.”

“Oh my God, D-Daddy,” your cries are pathetic, punctuated by whimpers. The bubble in your stomach is about to pop, the tension growing unbearable. You’re almost there, grinding into his hand pitifully and babbling, when Jean takes one of his hands to grab your throat roughly. He holds you captive, staring at your own stretched cunt on display for you in the mirror.

“Good, good girl,” he says, “now watch Daddy make you cum.”

The band inside you snaps viciously; your back arches away from him, and you squirt, gushing all over your bed sheets, inhuman sounds tearing from your throat where you struggle under his hand. Jean’s working you through the whole thing, still steadily pumping his fingers and whispering dirty little nothings into your ear. It finally begins to quiet, overstimulation washing over you. You push urgently at his wrist, mumbling something or other about “too much, too much”.

Jean mercifully obliges, pulling his hand from you with a shameful sucking sound, giving your pussy another light slap.

“Such a good girl for me, yeah? How you feelin’?”

“Good, so good,” you slur, “I’ve never– never…”

“Never squirted?” Jean’s eyebrows shoot up at your answering nod before a smug expression settles over his face. “Such a fun little toy, aren’t you? Just wait, you’ll get used to it soon enough.”

Your cunt clenches around nothing; so he can make you do that? Again? Jean’s slid out from behind you and is repositioning your limp body, dragging you down the bed by your ankles to line you up with his cock. He bends your knees up, pressing them close to your head. Jesus, he’s going to kill you at this rate.

“Want me to fuck you?”

“Please,” you hate the begging lilt to your voice, but you’re beyond fighting it. You gave up the reins a long time ago when you knelt for him, let him call you a good girl, let him fuck your throat.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl, Daddy’s gotcha,” Jean starts bullying his way into your pussy, still tight and pulsing from your orgasm. “Shit, got a tight little cunt, don’t you? Feels so good– fuck.”

You’re simpering under him, barely able to process the stretch of his cock in you. He’s well-endowed and you’re overwhelmed, a dizzying combination for your fucked-out brain to handle. Just when you think he might be in your throat he’s so deep in you, his hips press to the back of your thighs, both of you letting out a long groan at the feeling.

“So pretty,” Jean muses, not moving yet, just placing a thumb on your clit and absentmindedly playing with it, “such a beautiful pussy.”

You whine, frustrated. He glares at you, landing a harsh smack to your inner thigh.

“I’m not going to warn you again.”

“Please fuck me, oh God, please,” you pant, past the point of humility. Jean licks his lips, presses his palms deep into the backs of your knees, practically folding you in half. He gives you what you ask for.

You’re jolted back and forth on the mattress, mouth hung open in a silent scream as he splits you open on him, forces every inch deep into you. His tip’s kissing your cervix, pain blooming in your abdomen, but you don’t even care, so lost in the rhythm of his hips.

“Jean, I– oh my God,” you try to tell him how good he feels, but all you get is a firm hand around your throat.

“Who’s fucking this pretty cunt up, hm? Fucking you good and deep? Who is it?”

“Daddy,” you choke out, breathless, “Daddy’s.”

“There you go,” Jean’s focused on where you’re connected, eyes never leaving the frothy white ring forming around the base of his cock. You’re crying again, vaguely aware of the streams of tears running down your temples, into your hairline, but fuck, he just feels so good your brain can’t even process it. Jean takes notice, wipes one of your tears and licks it off of his thumb. “Cute fucking crybaby, all happy and cockdrunk, aren’t you?”

You whimper some semblance of an agreement, feeling the band of tension in you already getting stretched to a breaking point. He’s at an angle that allows him to hammer into the most delicious spot inside of you, rubbing against it with each thrust.

“Gonna cum soon, I– I’m gonna cum soon,” you manage, locking his gaze.

“Let me feel it, go on, do it for me,” Jean pants, squeezing your neck tighter. The lack of air goes to your head; the room spins until all you can focus on is him pounding into you. You cum violently, throbbing around his cock, thrashing against his strong arms. Jean fucks you through it, never losing his pace. “Good fucking girl, just like that.”

You’re practically wheezing as your senses return to you, clawing at Jean’s arm on your throat. He lets up on your neck, smiling down at you. “Feel good?”

“Mhm,” you hum, blissed out and half-asleep until Jean flips you, forcing you to prop up on your hands and knees. “Wait, Jean–”

“Wait?” Jean scoffs, sliding back into you. You let out a little cry, and he smacks your ass sharply. “This is what you asked for, right? Said I was being too nice to you.”

“I didn’t– oh my god…” your eyes roll back into your head, a well-placed thrust cutting your words off. “It’s so…it’s so much, Jean.”

Jean lands three more sharp slaps to your ass, already thrusting into you at a brutal pace. “What was that?”

“T-too much, Daddy,” you collapse, face shoved into the bed to mask the pitiful cries leaving your mouth. It is too much; if you tuck your chin to your chest, you can see a little bulge in your tummy where he’s fucking into you, another orgasm already building in the pit of your stomach. You feel like you might pass out if he makes you cum again, but he’s ruthless.

“Too much?” Jean coos, fisting your hair to turn your face. He’s glaring down at you. “You were practically begging me for it, and my pretty girl gets what she wants, right? Said you wanted it rough, so you’re going to fucking take it.”

You nod miserably, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Jean hisses when you clamp down around him. “Squeezing me so goddamn tight, this pussy.”

You feel a hand start thrumming insistently against your clit and nearly shriek; your pussy’s so swollen, so sensitive already. You claw at the bedsheets, feeling something warm and wet swelling inside of you.

“Daddy, I– fuck, it’s, it’s–”

“Gonna make you squirt again,” it’s a promise from behind your ear, “you’re gonna squirt on my cock and Daddy’ll cum for you, okay?”

“I can’t, I–” you’re wailing, words cut off by your own moans. Jean loves it, you can feel his thrusts growing more urgent against your hips, so deep in you you could choke.

“You can,” he corrects you, hand moving faster, “want Daddy to cum in you?”

“Yes, please, p-please,” You cry, letting him use you as he wishes. 

“I’ll give it to you, gotta cum first, you can do that, can’t you? Taking me so well, pretty girl, just need you to cum one more time for me.”

“Uh-huh,” the edges of your vision are starting to close in. He’s ruthless, hips slamming into yours hard enough to bruise, cock stretching you out so nicely, you can’t hold it, but you know, somewhere deep in this primal part of your brain, you need to be good, need to ask him. “Need to cum, Daddy, please– please let me, I–”

“Go ahead,” Jean shushes you, hips moving impossibly faster, “be a good girl, let me feel it.”

That tips you over the edge and Jean makes good on his promise; your cum is dripping out of you, spraying onto his thighs and ruining your sheets. You’re thrashing your head back and forth and sobbing through your orgasm, pinned and powerless under him. Jean swears at the vice-like grip you have on him; it doesn’t take him long to follow suit, pressing himself as deep as he can go, cumming in you. He bends over you as he does, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to him, kissing you hard in a mess of tongue and teeth. You feel it warming your stomach, moaning appreciatively until you both collapse in a sweaty mess of limbs, gasping for breath and clutching onto one another.

Jean allows himself a few moments to catch his breath, and then he’s pulling out of you, leaving you empty and whimpering. He shushes you, holding you close to his chest and letting you work through the intense session in his arms. You’ve never been so fucked out, nuzzling into his chest and simply letting him hold you, letting the aftershocks wrack through your sore body. After a few minutes you’re coming to; the haze begins to lift, and you peek up at him, unsure of where to start after…that.

“You okay?”

You turn the words over in your mouth before you can get them out, still feeling a bit like you’re floating. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. That was…wow.”

Jean, the man that just held you down and forced what were probably life-threatening orgasms out of you, blushes. “Yeah, it was really something.”

“Yeah, it was,” you agree, giggling despite yourself. Your mind is still a little cloudy, a little soft after everything. “But it was good. So good.”

“Yeah?” Jean grins, hoisting you up into his lap so you can both sit up, still cradling you to his chest. “Not too gentle, was I?”

Your face grows hot, you want to hide it behind your hands. “No, not too gentle.”

“You were right earlier,” he admits, “I was definitely holding out on you just because the way I like to…I mean, I don’t think I need to get too into it, you were there. It can be a lot. Didn’t want to push you too far.”

You hum contentedly, playing with the little gold chain he always wears. “I understand that now, but I’m a big girl. I can handle whatever you want to give me, promise.”

“Don’t say that,” Jean groans, “too tired for round two.”

Your hand falls into the mess between your thighs, and you wince. “Maybe after a shower?”

“Greedy,” Jean tuts, scooping you up with him to make the journey over to your bathroom, “my greedy, pretty girl.”

[niningtori]

supermodel | part two

part one

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: after finding out one of your closest friends sabotaged your relationship with beomgyu in hopes of having him all to herself, you end up spending a night with him. you may come to regret it when you realize beomgyu may not have been as innocent as he initially seemed.

genre: romance, angst, MELODRAMA, yandere, smut (MDNI!!!)

warnings: MDNI!!! yandere!gyu (super manipulative!gyu at least), more (justified imo) cheating, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), creampie, dacryphilia, praise, degradation, pregnancy kink, voyeurism (ig?), dom!gyu, sub!gyu, if i'm missing anything lmk

word count: 6.2k

notes: alright ;_; after much debate i'm reposting this probably only for a few days just so everyone who wanted to read can read it before i (probably) delete again! posting this made me feel rlly insecure for some reason but thanks to my moots and anons i feel a lot better ab it :) at least for a little bit. also, i know the direction may have taken quite the turn but this is genuinely just how it came out 😭 if you don't like it i'm sorry ( ཀ͝ ∧ ཀ͝ )

it’s hard to reason with beomgyu as he presses hot kisses down your neck, but it’s not like you’re not trying. you think you’re trying really hard, actually, but it’s nothing in comparison to the effort he’s putting in to make you lose your mind. you have no control over your moans when he sucks a hickey into your neck. you feel heat pooling in your stomach as he grabs your ass and snakes his other hand up your hoodie to catch one of your hardened nipples between his fingers. he’s finally tasted you and, like a man starved, he’ll be damned before someone takes away what’s his.

“b-beomie, we can’t! let’s go back to my place, at least,” you try to reason, but your resolve is weakening as you feel your pussy wetten under his caresses. 

“shh, hana’s not gonna be home tonight,” he whispers. “just want you so bad, can’t wait.” he looks so earnest, you can’t bear to part from him. his puppy eyes look devastated, so what else can you do besides relent? and he knows it, too. now he’s got you. 

he leads you to hana’s bedroom, where he’s spent countless nights listening to her talk about how much she loves him, has loved him for years. he wants to roll his eyes at this, but he doesn’t want you to misunderstand, so he keeps it to himself. he’ll admit, she really did pull the wool over his eyes when she said you didn’t like him, so he can’t wait to see her reaction when she realizes you two have finally figured it out. if she wants to play dirty, they can both try their hand and see who wins. 

and it feels an awful lot like he’s winning when he sees you undress once again, body bare with traces of him on every part of you. even if he hadn’t marked you up so much, and he has, there’s still evidence of his impact on you leaking out of your pussy. you letting him come inside was truly unexpected, but welcome, nonetheless. he knows, when you’ve sobered up from your lustful daze, you’ll ask him if he’s ever fucked hana raw. you’ll probably cry again and rush to get plan b, but he’ll tell you he’s not stupid. he’d never fuck anyone without protection, especially someone he likes as little as he likes hana. he just likes you so much, he couldn’t help but want to feel you. you’re everything he dared to wish you would be. even better, actually, and now that he’s tasted you, he never wants to stop. 

the feeling of wanting to be close to you reemerges when he sees you dropping to your knees for him. you fiddle with the zipper of his pants and he sighs when cool air meets his bare cock. and you're so perfect with your makeup smudged, hair in disarray, and mouth open, prettily presented for fucking.

you start with a lick of your lips and he’s already rock hard from the anticipation. you grab his base and tease little licks up and down his length. he never thought he’d be particularly into that, really, but you look so hungry for him it makes him whine. finally, you lick the precum off of his tip and he moans when you shallowly take in the tip of his cock, hollowing out your cheeks. you bob your head shallowly and it’s taking every ounce of self control he has not to grab the back of your head and shove himself down your throat. but he doesn’t want to hurt you, so he lets you tease him. for now, at least. you take more and more of him into your warm mouth until you can feel his tip searing the back of your throat. you can’t possibly fit all of him into your mouth, so you take the rest of him in your hands. you look up at him with watery eyes, almost like you’re asking for his approval, and his already thinning patience snaps. he grabs your hair and pumps himself in and out of you. you try to meet his thrusts with teasing swipes of your tongue, never once breaking eye contact. the combination of your gaze and the sight of your drool mixed with his precum dripping out of your mouth drives him crazy. 

“baby, look, you’re drooling all over my cock.” you hum in agreement, but a nasty thought crosses his mind as he remembers that you almost went out with another man tonight.

“mmm, who taught you how to use that slutty little mouth?” he asks, riling himself up for reasons unknown. the thought of someone else seeing you like this is enough to push him to madness. he fucks himself into your mouth mercilessly. you’re coughing and slobbering all over his cock, but it’s only when hot tears pour down your face that he registers what he’s doing. how can he bear to hurt you? he pulls out and you’re gasping for air. 

“shh, it’s okay, you’re okay. c’mere,” he coos, leading you to the bed.

you lay down shakily and he takes a moment just to admire your body and the work he’s done to it. he can’t control the want in his gaze when he sees your pussy dripping on hana’s comforter. it’s sick to see, in a way, but it excites him even more. 

“turn around,” he commands, and you would, you really, really would, but your limbs feel so weak, it’s a chore. he sighs and roughly turns you on your stomach himself. he manhandles you into kneeling on all fours and it’s all you can do not to buckle under such force, but you can’t deny the way it makes your pussy clench around nothing when he does this. as if he can read your mind, he lets out a soft laugh as he lines himself up with your entrance and pushes himself in. you’ve obviously just fucked, but you’re still as tight and hot as the first time. slowly, he feels you stretch and spasm to accommodate his length – pussy gripping him like a vise. he shakes when he feels himself completely sheathed in you. 

“g-good girl,” he praises. “so good for me.” then, without giving you another moment to adjust, he begins thrusting into you. his hips meet your ass and he’s awestruck by the sight of it as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix relentlessly. as he’s pumping into your heat, you don’t mean for your arms to give out from under you, but they do. he’s just fucking you so good you can’t help but feel weak. he chuckles at how you’re becoming undone after just a few strokes, but truthfully? he’s endeared. you were so brave in talking back to him earlier, but that attitude is completely gone as you lay there and let him take you over and over again. 

“nghh… not so hard, beomie,” you moan. 

“is it good, baby? i can feel you milking my cock. tell me it’s good, or i’ll stop,” he threatens.

“mmm, ‘s good! too good!”! you cry.

you’re so busy moaning out beomgyu’s name with your face mashed in the pillows, you really don’t hear the apartment door open and keys being thrown carelessly on the table, but as for beomgyu? he hears it all and it brings a mean, lopsided grin to his face. you’d think he would, at the very least, slow down, but he only rams harder and harder into you. the sound of wetness and skin slapping skin echo throughout the room. hana really wasn’t supposed to be home, this much is true, but what beomgyu didn’t tell you is that she had texted him saying her plans have changed and that he should come over. truly, he couldn’t have conjured up a better outcome than the one unfolding before him.

“beomgyu?!” hana shrieks. you’re so surprised you nearly jump out of beomgyu’s grasp, but he holds your ass in place as he continues his thrusts.

“don’t listen to her, just feel me,” he says in a raspy tone. and what can you do besides listen when he drills himself even harder into you? when you feel the veins of his cock dragging against your insides, you’re tuning out hana’s desperate cries, intentionally or not.

“coming inside, okay?” he, well, you would say ‘asks’, but it’s more of a statement of fact rather than a question. “take it all, baby,” he says as his hips begin to stutter. he smacks your ass — just because he can — and you feel it pulsate throughout your entire body as you clench around him, seeing nothing but white behind your eyelids as your release finally comes along with his.

you’re gasping for air when you finish. he carefully pulls out and watches as your cum and his mix together in the most sinful way. it’s a truly a sight to see, and if he had more time, he would be whipping out his phone and capturing the moment to revisit the next time he’s alone, but hana’s words are cutting into his bliss before he can fully appreciate the sight before him.

“b-beomie? w-what’s going on?” hana asks, tears streaming unabashedly down her pretty face. beomgyu is far too preoccupied to appreciate them, though, as he gently helps you sit up and thoughtfully wipes the drool and tears off of your face. 

“‘what’s going on?’” he begins mockingly. “do you really need me to show you again?” he sneers. 

meanwhile, you feel like a deer in headlights as you meet hana’s gaze. you feel dirty and small as you try your damndest to cover yourself up. hana’s soft eyes harden while she stares at you. 

“you. you did this, you fucking slut,” she spits. you break your gaze and stare down at your naked body. you feel incredibly vulnerable because, as you already know, she’s right. you feel your eyes heat up with tears, this time from guilt and humiliation rather than pleasure.

“you’d better watch your fucking mouth,” beomgyu says, eyebrows furrowed and voice even deeper than usual. 

“i just don’t understand. why? why her? and how could you do this to me? you said you loved me!” she shrieks, grabbing beomgyu’s arm. he harshly pulls away and instead collects your sweats and hoodie. you can’t help but stare. he said he loved her then he turned around and fucked you? oh no. 

“well, i lied, if that’s not clear enough,” he shrugs, gingerly dressing you like you’re some kind of catatonic doll. and, right now, you might as well be as you let him do what he wants. his callous words don’t match his gentle actions and it’s making your brain short-circuit. 

“if and when he does the same shit to you,” she says, looking at you with more hurt than you’ve ever seen on a person, “don’t you fucking dare come crying to me. or any of our friends, actually. just wait ‘til they hear what you fucking did.” you shiver at her ominous words. she’s right, after all. beomgyu dropped her the second you showed interest in him, who’s to say he won’t do the same to you? sure, he’s acting lovey dovey now, but you’ve seen firsthand how quickly his tune can change. you’re absolutely fucked. it’s your word against hers, and with the evidence of your betrayal seeping into her sheets, you don’t like your odds. you can’t help but stare at beomgyu, and, as if he’s reading your mind, he says his next words patiently.

“i love you. i would never hurt you like this.” he loves you now? you continue to look at him doubtfully. his words seem cheap after hana’s unforgiving speech, and he realizes he’s losing you when you don’t respond. hana doesn’t stop there, though.

“if he did this to me, i can’t wait to see what he’ll do to you,” she laughs. hana is, objectively speaking, a lot more of a catch than you are. and to the very bitter end, she won’t let you fucking forget it.

“shut your fucking mouth!” he exclaims and she flinches, as do you. you’ve never seen him so angry and it’s enough to scare you. 

“... i should go,” you croak.

“yeah, you should,” hana ridicules. you do an incredibly shaky walk of shame as you quickly gather your things. 

“hey, wait!” he pleads, but you’re already booking it out of the door. he goes to run after you, but hana grabs him forcefully by his shoulder and he spins around to face her. you slam the door, not wanting to know what kind of makeup sex they will probably be having relatively soon. as soon as you’re gone, hana begins.

“are you fucking crazy? her, of all people?!” she hisses.

“i thought i told you to watch how you talk about her,” he says lowly. his eyes are so intense, she’s momentarily stunned, but he’s crazy if he thinks that’ll shut her up. perhaps to her eventual regret, she says her next words.

“if i tell everyone, she’ll be fucking ruined. she’ll have nobody after this.” 

“so?” 

“so, stay with me,” she says softly, while, to his disgust, grabbing his hands and pleading with him. “stay with me, and i won’t tell anybody.” she looks as pathetic as a dog right now, and her words make him laugh in her face.

“tell them,” he says. 

“w-what?” she sputters.

“tell them all. i want you to tell them how i fucked one of your best friends and got her pregnant. tell them how i fucked her raw in your own bed. go on, i’d love to see their reactions when they find out.” 

“you’re… you’re fucking crazy,” she gasps.

“maybe, but not crazy enough to stay with you,” he shrugs. “i got what i wanted, i don’t need you anymore.” for once, she shuts her mouth. the puzzle pieces finally fit together and her jaw drops in awe.

“you did this on purpose?” 

“maybe you’re not as dumb as you look,” he sneers, and with that, he zips up his pants and pats her cheek. “you were okay in bed, but that’s about it.” 

her tears are falling, but that does nothing to mar her beauty. still, his heart remains unfazed. 

“when she finds out, she’ll leave you,” she sobs.

“and who will she believe? her ex friend who’s out to get her, or me? the only person she has left? i’d love to see who she believes.” his words leave her in even more tears, but he does nothing to placate her. he just grabs his shit and slams the door behind him.

-

hana wastes no time in telling your friends about your scandal. your incoming texts range from “what the fuck is wrong with you” to “is it true?” to “you’d better not show your face to us again”.

you attempt to explain yourself, but to no avail. even if hana lied to you first, you committed the ultimate betrayal with a smile on your face. nobody wants to hear your sob story about your forbidden love with beomgyu. nobody, not even your best friend, dares to defend you now.

the one person who’s on your side has been texting you relentlessly, though. beomgyu’s insistence on making sure you’re okay does little to quell the uneasiness in your heart. hana’s words resound in your head. “if he did this to me, i can’t wait to see what he does to you.” you don’t want to give him that chance, but your resolve is weakening when you feel yourself becoming more and more isolated from the people you used to call your friends. 

for days, you don’t leave your house except to go to work. where else can you go? you don’t have anyone to go out with you anymore. still, beomgyu texts and attempts to call you through it all. his messages are all about how much he loves you, how much he misses you, how much he needs you. how much he promises to make things right with you and how you’re the only one he’s wanted all along. more and more, you feel yourself slipping away. even though you never respond, you still sift through his messages and it’s enough to bring smiles, no matter how small, to your face. he loves you, wants you, needs you. who else do you have in your life to say things like that to you? 

still, the thought of trusting him scares you to your bones. what if he does the same shit to you? you don’t have a support system anymore. you don’t have anybody to rely on when he inevitably hurts you in the same way. why wouldn't he, after all? you’re no match for the kind of girls who come his way. what happens when he gets sick of you and wants to fuck another girl in your bed? you’re stuck with these thoughts as you nurse a bottle of vodka, alone in your apartment with nobody but yourself. this is what you deserve, you think. 

a knock on your door is enough to pull you out of your drunken haze. is it one of your friends? could they have finally gotten over their intial shock and disgust and understood that you didn’t mean for any of this to happen the way it did? you stumble to the door and you’re too drunk to even think about checking who it is before desperately swinging open the door. you are not met with the familiar face of one of your friends, however. instead, you see the face of the boy who’s been haunting your dreams for the past few nights.

“beomgyu?” he looks absolutely devastated, eyes reddened and wet with his face ghostly pale. he reeks of alcohol and he stands almost tremblingly. he doesn’t respond to you, just stares at you with the same intensity that entranced you from the very beginning.

“what are you doing here?” you ask. 

“can i come in? please?” you’ve never been able to say no to him, and you especially can’t in his current pathetic state. you move from the doorway to allow him access and quietly shut the door behind him.

“what do you want?” you try.

“want you,” he sobs, tears finally flowing from his sad brown eyes. “all i want is you.” your heart aches when you see him like this. you thought hana’s reaction was devastating enough, but he looks absolutely wrecked right now, putting her despair to shame, really. 

“i don’t know what to say,” you admit. “we fucked up, plain and simple. and i don’t know how i can trust you after what we did.” you’re not a victim in this, to be clear, but you’re far too vulnerable to accept the heart that he's holding out for you so carelessly. 

“i know, and i'm sorry. i'm so, so sorry. what can i do to make you trust me?” he begs. your already soft heart softens even more at his words, but you have to be realistic.

“i… i don’t think i can. if you had just talked to me in the first place things could've been different,” you reason. this only puts the boy in an even worse state. he’s almost wailing now, and he looks to you for comfort.

“p-please, just please. give me one chance,” he cries, looking absolutely frantic. “i’ll prove it to you, just let me.” he reaches for your face and you didn’t even realize you’re crying until he swipes away your tears. well, you’re already going to hell. what’s the point in atoning for your sins now? 

as if he can read your mind, he musters up a shaky smile before leaning in and giving you a chaste kiss. his lips taste salty, but sweet, and he’s kissing you with a passion you’ve never felt before. you almost believe him when he says you’re the only one. almost.

“h-how do i know you’re not going to do the same thing to me?” you ask unsteadily. 

“i would never,” he says immediately. “i would never hurt you.” at least, not like this. but you don’t know that yet. 

-

in the weeks following his drunken appearance at your door, being with beomgyu is even better than you thought it would be. it’s like a switch has been turned back on and he’s back to treating you like a princess, almost like the months since your “breakup” never happened. he randomly brings you flowers, showers you with kisses, and he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you along with declarations of love, which you never directly reciprocate. no matter how well he treats you, though, there’s an underlying sense of unease. you still find it difficult to fully trust him, and he can tell. it’s driving him to the brink of madness trying to come up with ways to show you how much he cares.

you’re in the middle of pensively reevaluating the nature of your relationship with beomgyu for the 100th time when you hear a knock on your door. at this point, you don't even bother checking who it is because you already know it'll be beomgyu. no matter how desperately you wish it were one of your ex-friends, you’re always met with his face, instead. you open the door and you’re shocked, to put it mildly. standing before you is not the beomgyu you know and (probably) love, but hana.

“we need to talk,” she grumbles. almost as if you’re possessed, you let her in without much fuss. is she here to rekindle your friendship? to tell you she’ll forgive you after what you’ve done to her? 

“hana, listen i’m so incredibly sor—” 

“save it,” she says, lifting her hand. “i’m only here ‘cause i have something i need to say to you. it took me weeks to come here because i don’t even wanna look at you.” you gulp and nod, genuinely anxious as to what she has in store for you.

“i’m just going to tell you straight up. beomgyu’s not who you think he is,” she deadpans. 

“w-what do you mean?” if she’s talking about how he’ll eventually betray you, you’ve already thought of that. why she thinks this is news to you, you don’t know.

“listen to me, he planned this whole fucking thing.” what could she possibly mean by that? he planned to get caught by her? that doesn’t even make sense. “i told him i’d be home the night that i walked in on you.” your jaw drops in horror, but she continues as if she doesn’t notice.

“i think… i think he heard us over the phone and knew you’d be there before meeting with jay. he told me he wanted our friends to find out and to see who you’d believe if i told you. whether you believe me or not, i really don’t give a fuck, but it’s true. he said he got what he wanted, so he doesn’t need me anymore.” she chokes on her last words and you can't help but feel sorry for her, but that feeling is overshadowed by the feelings of anger towards beomgyu. you don’t think hana would lie about this. she looks so flustered and heartbroken, you don’t believe for a second that she’s lying just to rile you up. before you can reply, the door opens and beomgyu’s figure appears in your doorway. he has a smile on his face, but it drops lightning fast when he sees who’s standing there.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” he says with a scowl.

“i’m on my way out,” hana mumbles, pushing past him. he doesn’t even attempt to stop her. he registers the mixed emotions on your face and he can guess what she said to you without much effort.

“let me explain,” he says lowly, already heading towards you to placate you like you’re some sort of wild animal he has to coax. and you’re so angry, you might as well be.

“explain what? that you ruined my fucking life?” you spit. he flinches at your tone, even more so at your next words. “what i don’t understand is why? is my life a fucking game to you?” his face crumbles at this. 

“n-no! never!” he sputters.

“then what is this? what’s your reason for planning for hana to walk in us? is this a kink or something?” he shakes his head frantically. 

“you don’t understand, i just wanted it to be us,” he pleads. “i don’t like them. they’ll just try to take you away from me.” 

“take me away from you? beomgyu, i’m not some fucking toy. i’m a person. a person whose life you fucking ruined for no reason!” you exclaim. you’re so frustrated you could cry, so you do. does he not realize how badly he fucked you over? “you promised you’d never hurt me,” you sob.

“i-i did it for us! they wouldn’t care about how we feel… they’d just take hana’s side without even thinking about it!” he argues, grabbing your hands. you want to pull away, but if you do, that means you’ll be completely alone. 

“you didn’t even give them a chance,” you reason. “now it’s really over,” you say between sobs. “i… i could’ve talked to them, but you ruined it!” 

“i just want you all to myself, is that so bad?” he asks, as if he genuinely can't understand why you’re so upset. he’s actually sick in the head.

“why?!” you ask again, ripping your hands from his grasp.

“because i love you,” he says desperately. “i just love you so much. i’m sorry, i’ll never do anything like this again,” he promises. 

“yeah, you won’t,” you reply bitterly. “because i won’t give you that chance.” 

“w-what do you mean?” he asks, lips trembling and eyes red.

“i’m not doing this with you anymore. this whole thing was doomed from the start,” you reply firmly. he shakes his head as if denying it with fervor will undo what you’ve said, tears now flowing freely from his reddened eyes.

“no, p-please,” he cries. “i only did it because i love you so much. ever since i first saw you, i only ever wanted to be with you. i… i know i fucked up, but it was the only way. believe me, please.” your already soft heart is softening even more as you listen to the desperation in his voice. he sounds so lost and scared, as if he really doesn’t know what he’ll do if you tell him no. you briefly wonder if he’s ever heard the words: “no, beomgyu. you’ve gone too far this time.” but as you watch him come undone before you, you don’t think you’ll be able to be the one who tells him no, anyway. 

“i’m giving you one, and i mean one, last chance. if you fuck up this time, i promise you, you’ll never see me again,” you declare. you don't know what you’re expecting, really, but the sight of even more tears streaming down his face is not it. he grabs you and pulls you in his warm and trembling embrace.

“th-thank you,” he cries. “you won’t regret this.” 

“i’d better not,” you mumble. even if you do, you can’t deny the way your heart skips a beat at his pure, unadulterated need for you. even if you do come to regret it, it’s impossible to look at him right now and say he’s not being sincere. he pulls away from you and hurriedly captures your mouth, and as if your next words will take back what you said, he seals them in your throat before you can manage to get anything more out. as the kiss becomes more heated, you feel something hard and angry poking into your stomach.

“already?” you tease. he actually blushes at this.

“can’t help it. need you,” he replies sheepishly. 

“you need me, huh? is that why you’ve been so bad?” you ask, palming him deliciously through his pants.

“n-not bad! just love you so much, couldn’t stop myself.” your temper actually flares a little at this. you palm him more harshly and his breath catches when you do.

“really? but you’ve been so bad, i don’t think you deserve me,” you say menacingly, pulling your hand away. he audibly whimpers at this.

“no, no, no, please! i’ll be good from now on,” he pleads as he grabs your hand and begins to snake it under the waistband of his pants. you let him, but you don’t take his hardened length into your hand like you usually would. instead, you tease the sensitive area around it, even going so far as to ghost your fingers over his balls, but you conveniently avoid giving him any sort of friction or attention, so he’s gasping when you give him a mean and unexpected tug. 

“p-please stop teasing me,” he cries, eyes so beautiful and watery. “i know i’ve been bad, but i can make you feel so good.” he’s right, in a way. you’ve never and will never feel as good as you do when beomgyu pumps into you and shoots his hot load in your pussy, but he’s deranged if he thinks you’ll let him have you so easily tonight. not after what he’s done.

“hmm, i’m not so sure about that,” you hum. you lead him to your bedroom as if he’s hypnotized. you haven’t even let him enter you yet, if you’re going to let him do so at all, but he’s already acting like he’s drunk on you. 

“strip,” you command simply. without any questions or doubts, he eagerly takes off his hoodie and shoves his pants down, stepping out of them and closer to you. it’s sickeningly sweet to see how possessed he is by you. he tries to take your own clothes off, but you smack his hand away. 

“bad boy,” you say, and he whines like a dog. “lay down.” he does what you say, lying completely exposed on your bed as he gives a few pulls on his throbbing cock. “stop fucking touching yourself or you’re not getting anything from me,” you add, and he whines even louder. 

“please touch me,” he begs, cock standing all red and weeping. 

“you don’t deserve it,” you shrug. you take off your pants and he leches at the image of your pussy dripping wet for him, and so soon. all he can think about is how warm it is and how fervently he wants to be in it. he thinks you’re going to sit on his cock, because that would be the most natural course of action, but all you do is lay next to him and pull something out of your nightstand drawer. a vibrator. are you fucking serious? 

“no!” he begs, already knowing how this is going to go.

“you can take what you get from me or you can beat it,” you bite back. that shuts him up. he’s biting his lip, trying not to get scolded again, but he can’t help but whine again when you spread your legs and turn your vibrator on. 

“ah,” you moan as the rubber tip hits your clit. “feels so good.” 

“i’d feel better,” he insists, eyes widened and desperate like a madman. 

“touch yourself,” you say in response. “i'm not touching that dirty cock of yours, so take care of it yourself.” he doesn’t need to be told twice. he immediately spits on his hand and begins to wildly jerk his weeping cock. he whines at the friction. you, however, are so lost in the feeling of the vibrations pulsating throughout your pussy, you couldn’t seem to care less about what he does. this only makes him whine even louder. he’s experiencing pleasure, sure, but the sounds coming from him are exaggerated and theatrical. he’s just trying to get a rise out of you. he just wants you to look at him, is that too much to ask?

you open your eyes at his petulant noise and say your next words so quietly, if he wasn’t paying more attention, he’d miss them. “kiss me.” so he does. the kiss is filthy and nothing more than the tangling of tongues, but that combined with the stimulation on your poor pussy is enough to make you near the edge. 

beomgyu can tell you’re close, and his kisses become even more heated as he abuses his cock under his hand. he’s moaning into your mouth, showing you, in no uncertain terms, just how badly he wants to be in you instead. 

“let me do it,” he begs. “come around me, instead. it’ll feel so much better.” his dirty words break you out of your trance and you annoyedly shut the vibrator off while tossing it god knows where. you tear his hand away from his cock and mount him, teasingly rubbing yourself against him, but refusing to put it in. he whines and pouts, but you’re far too busy trying to get yourself off to appease him. then, as if he’s possessed, he raises his hips and his tip catches on your entrance. you both gasp at his shallow intrusion. 

“p-please sit on it, it hurts,” he asks rather pathetically. 

“i can’t, beomie. you haven’t even fingered me yet — you’ll break me in half,” you say provocatively. he whimpers at the imagery. “and you've been so bad, how can i let you get what you want? you’ll never learn if i do that.” 

“i’ve learned! i promise, i’ve learned! just, please, help me,” he cries, bucking his hips up and holding your waist so hard you’ll know he’ll leave bruises. 

“mmm, i don’t knowwww,” you drawl.

“please!” and with that, you angle your hips and begin to sink on his thick length. the stretch burns and you can’t help but cry out as you feel your pussy enveloping every inch of him mercilessly. he’s in tears when he feels you throbbing around him, pussy stretching to accommodate how big he is. when you finally, finally take him all in, he can’t help but begin to fuck into you wantonly. 

“b-beomie, slow down!” 

“c-can’t! feels so good,” he says, tears streaming down his pretty face. he grabs your waist even tighter and flips you around so you’re lying beneath him. his cock continues to hammer into you and you’re seeing stars. his mouth is open, drool pooling out of the corners of his lips, and he’s moaning out your name like a prayer.

“pussy so good, so perfect,” he babbles. “missed this. missed feeling you like this.” 

“i missed it too,” you admit. 

“wanted you, wanted you for so long,” he continues. you don’t even think he knows what he’s saying, but you can tell he means every word. he reaches to your stomach and presses down where his cock is ramming into you. your eyes roll back at the pleasure that comes with the pressure. 

“my baby could be in here,” he muses. “our baby.” this should scare you into sobriety, but it does nothing of the sort. you find yourself tightening even further at the thought of him breeding you like a bitch. 

“i’ll take care of you, i swear,” he says as he thrusts so hard your head nearly meets the headboard. “i’ll give you everything you need. sh-shit, baby, wanna fill you up so good you feel me for days,” those words in addition to his sloppy thrusts are what send you over the edge. you clench around him and he hisses at how you’re even tighter than usual. you feel his thrusts become even more sporadic and he’s emptying himself into you unceremoniously. as he softens, he pulls out and you wince at the feeling. to your surprise, he moves down to your pussy and begins to lap up all of the cum like a starving animal. then, he pulls you in for one last nasty kiss. 

-

you don’t know if you necessarily trust beomgyu, but it’s hard not to at least try to when he basically prostrates himself in front of you on a daily basis. he lets you walk all over him, really. if you call him, he comes running. if you’re mad or upset, he soothes you. when you’re being unreasonable, he reasons, anyway. you still haven’t heard from your friends, but you’re starting to accept the fact that you never will. he introduces you to his friends, and surprisingly, they actually welcome you with open arms. apparently, they didn’t like hana very much and knew beomgyu always had a thing for you. you’re not sure how to feel about that, but you’re flattered, nonetheless. 

you call beomgyu crazy, and maybe he is, but he always says it's because he's crazy in love with you. you want to playfully smack him when he says such cheesy words, but you're starting to really believe him.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

oooh can u do one of those with Tom and reader where she does one of those celebrity skincare routine videos. How u go abt the story is completely up to u, have a nice day!

Vogue beauty secrets || Tom Blyth x singer!reader

A/n: I haven't post a tom blyth x singer!reader in so long, apolgies! but hope you enjoy this one :)

Wc: 577

Warnings: nonee

Divider by @pommecita

You stand in front of the bathroom mirror, ready to film your Vogue beauty secrets video. The soft lights illuminate the room, casting a flattering glow on your face. "Hi Vogue! I'm Y/n Abrams and I'm going to walk you through my skincare and my current glam-ish makeup routine!" You smile.

"So for my morning skincare routine, I keep it very simple and only use four products," you showcase the products before tucking your hair behind your ears.

Picking up a bottle of a renowned cleanser, you speak with a gentle, almost ASMR-like quality, "I first go in with this la roche possay face wash," You squeeze the contents in your hands.

"I used to have really bad teenage acne and my mum actually put me on this when I was about 14 and I've been using it ever since!" You say as you lather it up in your hands.

You lightly pat your wet face and with a confident smile, you began detailing more of your skincare routine, highlighting each product with precision. You get closer to the camera as you delicately applied a moisturiser, your voice resonating with enthusiasm.

The ambiance shifted when you transitioned to your makeup routine, showcasing the products that you use. "Most days I just keep it very very simple, using very light products on my skin," You comment as you pull out foundation.

"But for my sort of glam days I use this foundation from charlotte tilbury, it's not too heavy for me but it has great coverage." As you meticulously applied the product on your face, the door to the bathroom creaked open as you look towards the reflection of the mirror.

Tom casually strolls in, a lazy grin on his face, his eyes locking onto you. He wraps his arms around you, his warmth and affection catching you off-guard as you smile. He rests his chin on your shoulder, "Hi gorgeous," he whispers against your skin.

His eyes then move to the camera that he hadn't seen, "Oh- are you filming that video right now?" Tom seemed genuinely concerned, but instead of pulling away, he tightens his embrace, placing light kisses on your exposed skin. The unexpected intrusion caught everyone watching at home off-guard, but the genuine affection between you and Tom added an endearing touch to the video.

"Yeah, but it's okay, you can stay," You assure your boyfriend as you both lock eyes with each other through the reflection. "What's the video again?" Tom lifts his head up from your shoulder as he straightens up behind you.

"My beauty secrets with Vogue," you explain, motioning to the products on the counter. "I'm doing my makeup routine right now," almost forgetting you still had to get through the rest of your routine, you go back to doing your makeup.

Tom, seemingly unfazed by the cameras, continued to watch you with adoration with his hands resting on your hips. “You don’t need makeup, you’re already gorgeous,” he remarked. “Hm?” You look at him, “I said, you already look gorgeous, you don’t need makeup,” he repeats, his words sincere and heartfelt.

You give your boyfriend a grateful smile for his sweet words. Caught in the moment, Tom continues to watch you, occasionally leaning in to drop a playful comment or offer a sweet compliment. The chemistry between you two is palpable, and it added an unexpected charm to the video.

You wrapped up the video with Tom still beside you as he gives a small wave. You thought for sure that the vogue editing team would cut off most, if not, all the parts that Tom was in.

But little did you know, the vogue team decided to keep the segments with your boyfriend, finding his genuine affection and compliments wholesome.

When the video gets uploaded to YouTube, the internet goes wild. Both your fans couldn't get enough of Tom's unscripted, heartfelt moments. Clips of him wrapping around you, calling your gorgeous, and showering you with affection became viral sensations.

Social media explodes with comments praising how sweet Tom is and the chemistry between the two of you. Memes circulate, capturing the hilarious and heartwarming snapshots from the video.

The unexpected blend of beauty tips and genuine love only fueled the video's popularity.

[riekirei]

fan favorite— nishimura riki

you and riki, the iconic duo, were inseparable. your friendship was so loved in public, but it was something more in private.

pairing: idol!riki x 8th member!fmr | genre(s): fluff | content/warning: they kiss like once, riki teases reader and vice versa

[requested]

word count: 1.2k

author’s note: been insanely inactive but wtv, here’s something i wrote recently. hope u enjoy reading this! likes n reblogs r highly appreciated. not proofread

you step out of the van with the beaming sun rays hitting your face, the smell of the easing ocean breeze, and the sounds of the crashing waves filling the area. you pull your digital camera out of your bag that hung just by your shoulder. you try taking a picture of the bright summer sun that shined that day, but it was way too bright for you to see. you squint your eyes to the sun’s light that nearly blinded you when a hand’s shadow appeared from behind, hovering over your eyes to shield it from the light. it was riki, he had just gotten out of the van after you. “blinding lights, blinding lights~” (blind - enhypen) he sang as he watched you take pictures with the help of his hand preventing the sun from glaring at you. “hey!! since when have you gone down the car?” you asked him, wondering how fast he’d came as you expected him to take longer. 

you were at a beach for your new album’s concept photos, just like dimension dilemma (i guess it’s associated with the group’s storyline) and the makeup artists and stylists had just fixed your hair and makeup in the van before arriving at the beach. riki was up next to get his hair and makeup done, but he apparently was done? “did they not do your makeup or something?” you added onto your question from earlier. “they didn’t do my hair. probably the style they wanted for this album was something like this” riki replied. “you look good either way sooo” you told him, tucking his dark hair into his ear.

just a moment after, a camera panned towards the place you and riki stood. it was the staff shooting behind the scenes content for them to post on the official youtube channel. you snap out of the conversation you were previously having with riki and face the camera lens that was right in front of you. “hello engene!! today we’re at the beach and we’ll be taking some photos for our upcoming album” you say, making your way through the hot sand, towards the shore. riki follows shortly behind you. the camera films the both of you walking before you come across an area with countless seashells, laid out on the ground. it was quite a rough surface to be walking on so as you stepped on it, you tripped, slightly slipping your body forward. just as you were about to fall, riki’s grabbed your wrist and made sure to carefully support the other side of your torso from hitting the ground. he helped you get on your feet again. “guys y/n’s feeling silly” he says to the camera, laughing at what just happened. “engene, it was ni-ki’s fault, right? he pushed me” (he didn’t hsjahs) you jokingly said. “he pushed me!!!” you added. “nahhh, maybe its just a skill issue to be honest” he told you as you two bickered on camera for the nth time. 

you two found yourselves before the shore, watching the still water reflect the sky as waves came in. you went on your knees to draw doodles and words on the damp white sand. you drew a huge heart with the word ‘engene’ written in the middle. the camera captured the pretty sight before it shifted to what riki was doing. he was standing right where the waves met the shore, the water smoothly gliding on the sand. riki scooped some wet sand, combining it with some drier sand to create a ball. he shaped it with the palms of his hand and set them down to form a pile of multiple sand balls.

“what’s tha-“ you questioned riki before he picked one up and threw one at you. the firm sand ball flew its way towards you, crumbling to pieces as it came into contact with your body. riki bursts out laughing as he sees the mundane look you had on your face. “ha ha, ni-ki. you’re like so funny!” you say sarcastically. you try holding your laughter as you watched riki snicker. he walked back towards the other direction to form more sand balls.

while he wasn’t looking, you bent down over, grabbing a portion of sand that was laid out on the beach. you compressed the grains of sand together to form a sand ball yourself. 

“ni-ki!! look over here!!” you called out, having a plan in mind. just as he turned in your direction, you projected the sand ball right at him, hitting him on his arm. “HEY” riki shouted. 

oh you knew you were done for. like deadass, you were DONE for.

you quickly sprinted away from riki as he chased you across the beach. you stepped into the shallow water, trying to catch a hold of your breath while feeling the cool, relaxing sensation the flowing water had that came in contact with your feet. riki had finally caught up, stepping into the water as well. he wrapped his arms around you, tightly embracing you. “try escaping me now” riki said. “NI-KIII, LET ME GOO!!!” you exclaimed, swinging your body from left to right, attempting to escape him. 

you extended your arm, reaching for riki’s waist. you begun tickling him as you two giggle. he uncontrollably laughed at the tickle he felt. he tries pushing you off of him when you playfully nudge him too, not knowing how strong you had pushed him.

riki fell into the water, getting his outfit wet. “YOU THINK I’M THE ONLY ONE FALLING IN?” he said with a big grin on his face. he grabbed your wrist, pulling you down as you made a splash, landing right next to him. you two sat there and died laughing at what had happened. all this bantering was caught on camera for ENGENEs to watch. they adored the bond you and riki had. they’d make edits, compilations, and several posts about ‘y/n-ki’ and the endearing moments you two had.

you got up, slowly running away from riki who still hadn’t gotten up yet. “Y/N HELP ME UP, I CAN’T- Y/N!!” riki yelled. you looked back and tittered at the sight of riki struggling to get up. “hmmmm what about…. no!” you reply. “OKAY SO YOU DON’T LOVE ME ANYMORE” he responded in a sulky tone. he crossed his arms and pouted his lips. “OKAY!!! I GUESS-“ riki continued before you ran towards his direction, finally giving in and helping the poor boy up. “I’LL HELP YOU UP, OKAY? RELAX PRINCESS ARIEL” you teased riki. “whatever, bro” he said, jokingly giving you a side eye.

the sun set as you and riki spent time with each other at the beach, along with the other members. the cameras cut and the staff called it a day, allowing you all to relax and clear your heads before getting back onto the ride home. you both walked a distance far enough for no one to be able to catch sight of you two. you and riki sat on the sand, feet buried in it. you rested your head on his shoulder while you two stare into the horizon before you. “it’s almost just as pretty as you” riki said as he let out a chuckle. “really?” you reply, lifting your head from his shoulder to look him in the eye. “mhm” he said, slightly nodding his head. you smiled and leaned in to give him a peck on the lips. 

the chemistry between the two of you was good, maybe a lil too good. and the fan favorite duo were great friends on and off cam, maybe a lil more than friends too.