#I CAN IMAGINE THIS SCENARIO

[just-shushilay]

A2 Lars for @mellowriv, thank you so much!

[bananonbinary]

theres a certain youtuber that i like and every once in a while i see some bullshit drama starting video about them and i'll start it like "oh no did they do something really bad" and every time its always "idk they just strike me as really creepy" about extremely normal social anxiety/awkward behaviors.

anyway some of yall are extremely not okay about very minor "not fitting in" behavior and it's really really cruel. stop being fucking mean girls.

[hoonatic]

emergency contact | park sunghoon x reader

prompt: weeks after your breakup, sunghoon finds out that he’s still your emergency contact. pairing: non-idol sunghoon x implied female reader genre: angst with hopeful/happy? ending; second chance romance??; exes to lovers??? word count: 2800 note: i’ve had a cute fic idea that i wanted to write forever…but this is not it. the sad demons have visited me once again. hope y’all enjoy nevertheless and any feedback is much appreciated <3

sunghoon was miserable. 

it had been three weeks, five days, two hours, and thirty-two minutes since the two of you had gone no contact.

he wished he could say he was happy to be single, that he was no longer “locked down” and “whipped” as his friends had always called him. but the so-called “freedom” felt like hell since it meant losing you.

at first, he kept telling himself that time would heal the pain. “it’s natural,” he had repeated like a mantra, “she was your best friend and lover for years.” but no, this heartbreak was inhumane. his desire to see you, apologize endlessly, and spend days holding you until you could feel every ounce of his love was gnawing at his soul. if anything, it got worse by the minute.

he had tried so hard to balance work and the rest of his life, using the excuse several times that he was securing this future for your shared life with him. that one day, you’d be able to reap the rewards of his efforts and live comfortably together without stress.

but what was the use of all of that now? the future he had worked so hard to create was ripped out from his hands by no one other than himself. 

you had accused him of being too busy for you. dates canceled at the last minute, a birthday forgotten, and all the texts left on read had built up to the argument that ended it all. he was always good at fighting, a little too good. he had retorted that you weren’t being supportive, and he was never one to sugarcoat his words. his tongue was sharp, and he did nothing to dull its blade.

but there wasn’t too much yelling on your part, and he thought that that hurt more. he wanted you to fight back, to stand your ground because he knew deep down that he was being the asshole. his toxic thought was that by you fighting back, this meant that you were still fighting for your relationship. but instead, you just stared with silent tears and a blank expression. seeing the indifference in eyes that had previously held so much love was a sight that would stay with him forever. so, in fear of you leaving, he ran instead.

he was a coward, leaving your shared home to run back to the apartment he had still technically owned but hadn’t lived in for more than a year. he locked himself away for a few days, but the realization that you hadn’t attempted to contact him burned more than he could put into words. you were done with him. he had hurt you, had the audacity to be the one to run, and now he had lost you.

he had even run from his job. he couldn’t stand to walk into the same building he stayed in when he forgot dates with you. his coworkers wouldn’t stop asking what happened to him, why he looked so rough. he even found an empty container that had once held lunch you made for him. but his final straw was getting promoted. his first instinct was to call you, but he remembered the sad truth before he could dial. any ounce of pride was washed away with shame in that moment. that same day, he quit without notice.

so there he was: miserable, alone, and unemployed with nothing left to run from but memories. he had spent the last week going through his phone and saving your pictures together in a locked album. he wouldn’t dare delete them, but he couldn’t stomach looking at you either.

he wished he could get drunk and sleep away the pain. he had tried, he definitely did - but that night, he dreamt of you. you were smiling at first, eyes ever full of love. you were speaking, yet he couldn’t hear you. but he could see how your words started to gradually look sadder, and slowly, tears started to fall as your grin dropped. he woke up that next morning crying with the conclusion that he would have to face this heartbreak sober.

but another day of scrolling through albums had stopped abruptly when he saw the notification that changed everything.

SOS i called emergency services from this approximate location after my watch detected a hard fall. you are receiving this message because i have you listed as my emergency contact.

sunghoon had to remind himself to breathe.

he had purchased that watch for you as a “just because” present months ago. you had complained of bad sleep and he wanted you to use it as a way to track your slumber. he hated seeing you tired. he knew that the watch had a fall detection function, but it had never been used before.

his heart was in his stomach as he went to his favorite contacts page and selected your name for the first time in weeks.

“please,” he begged, all notion of running away from you leaving his brain, “pick up please.”

but you just weren’t answering. so he tried again and again and again.

for a moment while the line attempted to connect, he wondered if this was how he had made you feel for months - desperate for a sliver of attention from him. but instead, he was desperate for a sign of life.

finally, after about two minutes of trying to reach you, his body moved of its own accord. before he knew it, his car keys were in his hands and he was out the door.

the car ride there might have been the worst part. the speed at which he drove at almost defied the laws of physics. other drivers were cursing at him but he wasn’t registering anything except the thought of your safety. he just needed to get to you.

why did he run? why didn’t he try to talk it out? if he was so afraid of losing you, why did he do the one thing that would guarantee that? he should have been there like he promised to be from the beginning. you would have been safe with him.

when he pulled up to the house you had shared for so long, he suddenly felt the world slow down. why were emergency services there? you should’ve canceled them by now.

he had to double park as the ambulance was blocking the driveway. why were they here?

the emts and police had arrived at the same time as him, which both increased his anxiety and soothed him. for one, that meant he had been quick enough. but why did you need them?

“sir, do you know–” an officer had approached him as he stumbled to the front door. all he could understand was your name. why were they asking if he knew you? of course he knew you. you, the love of his life. you, his soulmate by every meaning of the word. you were you. and you were safe.

as if sensing his distress, he felt an emt worker pull him to the side as the same officer prepared to break down the door. seeing this, sunghoon finally returned to his senses.

“w-wait! sorry, i have a key.” sunghoon’s hands were shaking. the only way that door had unlocked was by pure muscle memory because he didn’t understand what he was doing at all.

as soon as the door opened, sunghoon tried to step in. finally, he was close to you. 

the officer, however, pulled him back.

“sir, you should wait here. we need to make an initial search before you can go in.”

“what, why? if she’s in there, i want to see–”

“sir, it’s just in case we find something we wouldn’t want you to see.”

all of sunghoon’s hesitation and fear went out the window at those words. his body flew automatically as he ran inside.

he screamed your name as he rushed in, ignoring the yells of the police officers who followed him in. as it had been for almost four weeks, his only thought was you. he just needed you.

he checked the ground floor first, eyes scanning the open space in less than a second as his body avoided an officer trying to grab him. sunghoon then moved to the staircase, long legs prepared to skip steps to reach you. then suddenly, he heard the voice his ears had been longing for,

“sunghoon?!”

his head shot up. there you were, finally. he saw the sadness, confusion, and fear all flash your face as you registered the emergency workers behind him. you looked exhausted and unruly, but he had never felt more in love.

he didn’t even remember climbing the steps, but suddenly he was at the top of the staircase and you were in his arms. 

you could feel him trembling as he held you. you took his face into your hands to look at him, “sunghoon? what’s wrong? why are you here? is it my parents? is someone hurt?” you watched as his mouth opened but no words came out. after a few seconds, one of the officers spoke from the bottom of the steps,

“ma’am, we received an alert from your device that a hard fall had occurred.”

suddenly, you understood everything. taking sunghoon’s hand gently, you led him down the stairs, afraid he’d fall from shock. he followed you silently, but his grip tightened seemingly with every step.

that’s when you noticed your shattered watch on the third step.

you let sunghoon go and you could hear his deep breath when you did. you picked up the watch and offered it up to the officer as an explanation, “i’m sorry officer, it looks like there’s been a misunderstanding…”

the officer nodded in understanding, and dismissed the emts, “got it, ma’am. we will still need a formal report for our records since this was registered as an emergency call.” he motioned to your couch as he took out a pen and paper.

you reached for sunghoon’s hand once more and led him to sit with you. in the moment, you knew he needed you more than you would ever understand. so, as you explained to the officer, you held his trembling hand, rubbing soothing circles with your thumb.

“i was doing laundry here downstairs and had taken off my watch to prevent it from getting wet,” you recounted, “i put it on top of the basket of clothes that i took upstairs. i remember tripping a little going up the stairs - i didn’t fall, but that must’ve been when the watch fell."

"what about your phone, where is it? i'm sure your boyfriend must've tried to call you."

sunghoon slowly nodded at that, turning to look at you. you smiled sheepishly, "i left it upstairs and it was on silent while i folded the clothes. i’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”

after finishing up your statement, the remaining officer prepared to leave. as he walked out the door, he gave a soft smile to the both of you,

“glad to see it was a false alarm, ma’am. you had this gentleman quite worried - ran so fast i couldn’t even grab him!” the officer laughed, “you two have a nice day now! sorry about your watch, though!”

after he shut your door, the silence enveloped your home. you closed your eyes and breathed deeply to prepare to speak to your ex-boyfriend. but as soon as you opened them, sunghoon started to cry softly.

he hugged you tighter than he ever had, and soon enough, his face was buried in your neck. his cries were silent, but you could feel his body shaking as his tears soaked your shirt.

“sunghoon…” you started, stroking his back, “i’m sorry i worried you, honey.”

you knew you shouldn’t be calling your ex pet names, especially an ex that had run from you without properly ending the relationship. but your heart still held so much love for him that it flowed out naturally. and you knew he was crying from more than just worry, so you doubt he minded at all in the moment.

his crying slowed down as his arms took to loosely wrapping around your waist instead. he pulled away from your neck to rest his forehead on yours. from this angle, you could see his swollen eyes and red nose - a sight so rare in all the years you had dated. he was never a crier after all.

but memories of several late-night conversations rushed your mind. he always said his number one fear was your death, and now you could see he had never lied about that.

he could see your mind go elsewhere so he called your name softly, “don’t say you’re sorry. i’m so happy, these are relieved tears. and i just really, really missed you.” he croaked out. you knew he had more to say, so you just nodded, letting him go on.

“and i’m sorry, baby. for everything. i shouldn’t have run, i shouldn’t have tried to egg you on to fight me back. i shouldn’t have even fought anything you said that night. you were right. i didn’t prioritize you. in my attempt to secure you for life, i let you go instead. i’m so sorry, i never wanted to break up.” he was rambling in earnest now, afraid that no words would make you take him back.

you listened quietly as he went on for a few minutes after that, hand continuing to rub his back, “i know honey, i know.”

“baby, you need to understand that i almost died thinking you almost died today,” you could’ve laughed at how dramatically he spoke, “i couldn’t breathe right thinking that our last conversation could’ve been an argument. that you wouldn't have ever known just how deeply i love you and need you. i have so much regret for how i treated you, but if you’d give me the chance, i have all the time in the world to make it up to you…let’s go on that vacation i promised you. we can leave tomorrow if you’d like.” he smiled hopefully at you.

“hoon,” his heart soared at the use of his beloved nickname, “what do you mean? don’t you have work? can you really leave with such short notice?”

“i quit my job.”

“excuse me?”

“no job that made me work that much is worth it. i’ll find one with better work-life balance…after our vacation. if that’s what you still want of course…” he spoke more quietly, as if afraid of rejection.

you sighed. you really should be realistic with this - you two had been broken up for a few weeks at that point. you knew the love was still there, but was this a good decision?

while there was still some hesitation on your part, you couldn't help but notice how gingerly he held you. his arms were still around your waist loosely, yet there was something desperate about their hold. you knew he was holding back from hurting you - you could tell how tightly he wanted to hug you.

he was so shaken up at the idea of you being hurt that he rushed over there despite the two of you not being on speaking terms. for someone who had trouble communicating how he felt sometimes, you knew his actions spoke louder than words. he always acted brave, but there was so much he feared. and you knew losing you was always at the top of this list.

you could also feel how he was simply soaking in the sight of your face. his eyes were shy, yet determined. he wasn't going to risk missing another second of staring at you. a part of you grew conscious, but you knew he was just taking in what he had missed for weeks.

“what about…” you started and almost giggled at how he perked up, “we take it slow - another two weeks or so to talk everything out and relax? to get us to a good place again before you hold me hostage in some foreign country?”

sunghoon smiled softly, kissing your forehead. you leaned in naturally to his warmth, to his touch that you missed so much. “that sounds like a great idea, love.” he spoke, “we’ll get you a new watch too. and i’ll do all the itinerary planning and packing whenever you’re ready, okay? i love you.”

“okay. and i love you too. can’t wait to enjoy your unemployment with you for now!”

one smile and nod from you had him taking you into his arms once more, relishing in your being. he was back where he belonged. he had experienced the scariest reminder ever that he needed you, and sunghoon was never letting you go now.

[juniemunie]

[Abandoned by the Lightners, his heart became cracked with hatred.]

Hitting a lil' too close to home?

[atrirose]

𝒥 : PLACES THEY LOVE TO KISS — enha

はい bf!enha x f!r . . . 🍵 warning. kissing duh ! + FLUFF ★ seiu msg: wanna get back on to writing stuff soon in the mean time enjoy this! rbs/feedbacks are appreciated

— HEESEUNG LEE

heeseung loves kissing your neck because he knows it gets you hot and bothered, he loves the sudden shocked squeak you let out when he random kisses your neck, he came behind you, gracing his cold lips on your neck “AH what’s wrong with you seung” you turned towards him, your hand on the place he kissed “my lips are cold, i ate ice cream” he said pulling you back “so?”

“so i gotta warm them up” he said as he bit ur neck lightly, kissing it, his breath leaving tingling feels down your spine, something about neck kisses just makes you feel light headed “i know you love it princess” he whispered, his hands roaming around your body as he blabbers like a loser.

— JAY PARK

jay loves kissing your lips, though it very common but for him it is special, he love the feeling of his lips against yours, especially after you put on lipgloss or lipstick “jayyyy i just put it on, look it’s all smeared and on your lips too” you said frustrated as you try to fix your lipstick, “it’s a nice colour i like it on you” he said snaking his hands again around your waist as he turns you around “doesn’t give you an excuse to ruin it, and we have to go or else we will be late to the party” you said resisting his touch as he leaned over again.

“doesn’t matter” he said as his lips moved against yours, his hands around you waist, him teasing your lips by lightly nipping on it, your hands in his hair tousling it.

“we got stuck in the traffic sorry” he said to his friend as you shot him glares, did i forget to tell you that he loves kissing you when you are mad at him? works like a charm, all the anger goes poof.

— JAKE SIM

jake loves to nom on your cheeks , he says it’s like bread. he loves to peck your cheeks at any given moment, or just have his face smooshed by yours, if he could he could live under your skin. jake likes to bite your cheeks while pecking them despite being warned a hundred times to not, but how can you resist his puppy eyes.

sometimes he get this kissing aggression towards you where he just keep on kissing and giggling as you try to escape him “jake too much” you say as he kissed you all over your face, “not enough” he said as he continues smooching your cheeks, biting them “nom, you taste like strawberries” jake hugs you as he calms down, cuddling you.

— SUNGHOON PARK

he loves collarbone kisses, loves to randomly feather kisses around your collarbone while cuddling, exact reason that despite being so tall he like you be a small spoon most of the times, likes to be a princess “hoon it tickles” you said as he pressed kisses, he loves when you wear off shoulder as he gives him easy excess but if not then he just pulls the piece of clothing you are wearing to expose your collarbone, now that has gotten him in trouble when he accidentally rip your clothing’s neckline but that obviously never stopped him.

“i will get you more mmm” he said as he kept kissing you, he loves to inhale the soft and mild scent of your perfume.

— SUNOO KIM

loves to kiss your forehead, to appreciate even the smallest of things you do for him, while that’s very sweet of him and you love it with all your heart, there are times when he likes to annoy you by kissing you after applying your lip tint so now you have kiss mark on your forehead, or kissing it and then telling how small you are.

towers over you sometimes so you look up at him and he can kiss your forehead.

“i got nice scores this time” you told sunoo as he smiles and kisses you forehead “im proud of you love”

— JUNGWON YANG

he likes to kiss your nose, just a little boop to make you laugh, you talking about your day? oh he is so in love, boop, you are cooking? he is drawn in by your beauty, boop, you are just laying around? you look so cute, he can’t believe you are his, boop.

“why do you like kissing my nose so much” he looks at you as he smiles, eyes closing like a cat as he kisses your nose “because you are cute” it’s a way he expresses his love, it’s his way of saying he treasures you and a simple expression of his limitless love for you

— RIKI NISHIMURA

he loves to bury his face in your neck after a long day and kiss your shoulders, just like sunghoon he loves when you wear off shoulder dress or else he just pulls on them, but lucky for him you wear his oversized hoodies all the time so it’s easy to gain excess, sometimes it’s hard to express who he feels, or how much he loves you so he just kisses your shoulder and hope you understand his attempt to say ‘i love you’s’.

“what’s wrong baby” you asked as you played with hair as he buried his face in the crook of your neck “just tired” he said nuzzling “aww poor baby” you said as you kissed his head “you better not tell how act with you” he warned you still kissing your shoulders.

“like a baby? AHH-” your giggles turned into sudden shock as he bites you “oh that left a mark” you smacked him with a pillow as he laughed and dodged it “not tired anymore huh?” you said pouting moving away from him just to get pulled back to his lap “i am” he pecked you “meanie” he snicked at your pouty lips before kissing it.

[lightseoul]

a/n. feeling soft and yearning for 30-something boyfriend!bkg, so i just had to write something down on him real quick. enjoy! (0.5k)

thinking about quiet saturday evenings with bakugou, spent in the comfortable silence you've both worked towards in the brief time you've spent officially together.

you're in your early 30s now, and people your age are rushing to get rich or get buff or get hitched, but with bakugou it's surprisingly peaceful. you're in no rush, just seven months into this budding relationship, but that doesn't mean the people around you aren't.

"denki's getting married next year," bakugou shares out of the blue, breaking the quiet and sprawled so nonchalantly on his leather couch. you whip to look at him from where you're seated to his right, stunned.

"seriously?"

at that, he snorts. "crazy, right?"

you try to frown at his tone, but the corners of your lips refuse and fight to turn upward instead. "be nice, kats. i was referring to how fast they're going, not to the fact that he's getting married."

bakugou merely hums in neither affirmation nor disagreement. leaning forward, he places the mug of tea he's been nursing on top of the coffee table. "it's gonna be a pain in the ass either way. he asked me to be a groomsman."

you don't even try to tamp down the excitement that shoots through you. "he did? that's great, babe! that's so sweet of him."

he shrugs. "yeah, well. i told him i'll only agree if he included blue as one of the colors for the guests."

you feel your eyebrows furrow. "...blue? what's with that, specifically?"

bakugou frowns at you like you just told him the sky was green. "because that's your color?"

he says it so as a matter-of-factly that you buffer for a second, not knowing how to respond.

"…but the wedding won't be until late next year, right?" you finally ask when you get your words back, voice small.

"yeah?" he retorts without missing a beat. "what're you getting at?"

he asks the question in such a way that's bordering on challenging you, shutting you right up. the thing is, you've never thought much about the future, let alone one shared with bakugou, mainly because you didn't want to get way ahead of yourself and potentially get disappointed, yet...

here he is, talking so casually about it.

you look back up to see that he's still staring at you, goading you for an answer, and for a moment, you debate whether or not to have the conversation now.

the conversation where you talk about what the future looks like ahead of you.

but as you gaze back at bakugou's waiting, crimson eyes, and drink in the softness of his skin that perfectly juxtaposes the sharpness of his features, you decide to save it for another day.

shaking your head, you toss him the gentlest smile you can muster. "it'll be my honor to be your date to the wedding, katsuki."

at that, bakugou scoffs, but there's no missing the tinge of pink now decorating the high planes of his cheeks.

"who else would it be, dumbass?"

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 have a nice day!

[shy9-29]

JAKE AFTER COACHELLA WEEK 2. like how he would fuck u right after ITS A NEED I BEG

❜ FUCKING JAKE BACKSTAGE AFTER WEEK 2 COACHELLA ◟ 심재윤

୨ৎ Fucking Jake backstage after Coachella because you couldn’t keep your hands off him. ✉️ wc. 1813 - pairing 심재윤 x f reader ⚠️‼️ tw. hair pulling, praising, begging, unprotected sex, oral (m recieve) harsh language

📝 jake looked so hot up there istg hes bias wrecking me so hard. RUIN ME ALREADYYY! Like I totally see see what you’re saying

The second you saw him step off that stage, all glistening skin and adrenaline, you knew you were done for.

Jake was radiant. Sweat clung to the curve of his jaw, soaked into the collar of his shirt, made the fabric stick to every dip and line of his body. His hair was a mess—sticking to his forehead, curling slightly from the heat, and his chest heaved with each breath like he’d given everything out there. And he had. You watched him command the crowd, move like the music lived inside him, smile like the entire desert had been lit just for him. “Bounce in this next one?” Oh you’ll bounce on it alright

And now he was walking toward you, eyes wild, lips parted, still catching his breath.

You didn’t wait.

Jake didn’t ask questions. He followed, breathing hard, still riding the high of the performance. But the second you stopped and turned to face him, he got it. His eyes darkened, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he stared at you.

“You looked so good up there,” you whispered, barely recognizing your own voice.

Jake stepped in close, so close your back pressed to the cool metal wall of the trailer. “Yeah?”

You nodded, fingers already tugging at the hem of his shirt, desperate and clumsy. “Couldn’t stop staring.”

He smirked, cocky and flushed and fully aware of the effect he had on you. “You looked pretty wrecked by the end.”

“Shut up.”

Jake’s laugh was rough, low in his throat. “Make me.”

And you did.

Your hands slid under his shirt, tracing the sweat-slick lines of his abdomen. He hissed softly, leaning into your touch, head dropping to your shoulder. His mouth found the side of your neck, open and hot, teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he murmured, voice frayed around the edges. “When I was on stage, every time I looked out at the crowd… I wanted it to be you.”

You arched into him, your own hands trembling now as they clutched at his waist. He slid a thigh between yours, pressing just enough to feel the tension ripple through you. His hands were everywhere—your waist, your hips, up your spine like he couldn’t decide where to keep you. Like he needed you closer than skin would allow.

“Jake,” you breathed, and something about the way you said his name—so soft, so desperate—made him snap.

He pulled you flush against him, lips crashing into yours like the world was ending. You could taste salt and heat and adrenaline. You could feel every hard line of him, every inch of muscle and sweat and desire pressed against your body like it belonged there.

Backstage was chaos—staff calling out, equipment rolling by, voices yelling in the distance—but all you could hear was the way Jake groaned into your mouth, the way his hands fisted in your shirt, the way his hips rolled forward like he couldn’t help himself.

“I need you,” he muttered against your lips. “Right now.”

You didn’t say a word.

You just nodded, breathless, already melting against him.

The second Jake ducked behind the curtain, his chest still heaving from their closing set, your eyes locked. He looked like a dream—sweaty, flushed, breathless. His hair was a mess, stuck to his forehead. His shirt clung to his skin, the black fabric soaked and clinging to every muscle, every line of his body.

He barely had time to take a sip of water before you were pulling him aside, fingers curling into the hem of his shirt.

“You did so good up there,” you whispered, voice low and shaky as he backed you up against the trailer wall. “Couldn’t stop watching you.”

Jake leaned in, his lips brushing yours, and his hands found your hips like they belonged there. “Really?”

You nodded, tilting your head back when he kissed down your jaw. “As soon as I saw you up there, I was already wet.”

That made him groan—deep, from the chest—and his grip on you tightened. “Fuck, baby.”

There was no hesitation after that.

His mouth was everywhere—your neck, your collarbone, your lips—kissing you like he needed it to breathe. His hands slipped under your top, thumbs grazing your waist as he pressed you closer, grinding against you slowly. You could feel him—hard, needy, barely held back by his performance gear. Every flex of his hips made you whimper, made him curse softly in your ear.

You gasped when he slipped a hand down your body, cupping you through your panties.

“Show me,” he murmured. “Show me how wet you got for me.”

You let him push the fabric aside, let his fingers dip between your folds. He swore when he felt it—how soaked you were, how ready.

“God, you weren’t kidding.” He kissed you again, rougher this time, filled with so much need it made your knees weak. “I need to be inside you. Right now.”

Your hands found the waistband of his pants, helping him shove them down just enough, freeing his cock. He hissed when you wrapped your hand around him, stroking him once, slow and firm.

“You looked so good,” you whispered, pumping him gently. “Like you were made to be worshipped. I wanted to run up on stage and pull you off right then.”

Jake’s head fell against your shoulder as he groaned, deep and shaky.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he muttered. “Turn around.”

You did, heart pounding. He lifted your skirt, pushed your panties to the side, and then he was there—sliding into you with a hiss, both of you moaning as he filled you slowly. He pressed his chest to your back, one hand wrapped around your waist, the other gripping your hip as he started to move.

Each thrust was deep and deliberate, the kind of rhythm that stole your breath and left you aching. His forehead rested between your shoulder blades, body pressed tight against yours like he couldn’t get close enough.

“You take me so well,” he whispered, voice rough and warm against your skin. “So fucking tight, baby.”

You pushed back against him, gasping every time he hit that spot just right. The praise, the angle, the weight of his body pinning you to the wall—it was overwhelming.

“I wanted this so bad,” you moaned. “Wanted you to fuck me like this the second I saw you up there.”

“I’m never getting over this,” he groaned, hips stuttering. “Never getting over you.”

The tension built fast, everything too much in the best way—his voice, his hands, his cock dragging against your walls with perfect pressure. You came hard, clenching around him as your body shook, biting down on a whimper as your orgasm ripped through you.

Jake wasn’t far behind. Feeling you tighten around him pushed him over the edge, his hips jerking once, twice, before he came with a choked moan, spilling inside you as he buried himself deep.

For a moment, the only sound was your breathing. The distant music, the murmur of staff in the background—it all faded under the rush of what just happened.

Jake held you against him, breathing hard, his lips brushing your shoulder.

“You’re unreal,” he whispered. “Better than any high I get on that stage.”

You smiled, heart still racing. “Then we better make this a tradition.”

He chuckled, pulling you close again. “Every show. Backstage. You and me.”

His breath was still uneven, body heavy against yours as he slowly pulled out, both of you wincing at the sensitivity. Jake leaned his forehead against your shoulder, chuckling softly as his hand smoothed down your side.

“You okay?” he murmured.

You turned your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “More than okay.”

He smiled against your skin, ready to wrap you up and maybe collapse in one of the dressing room chairs—but you turned in his arms and surprised him with a playful shove. He blinked as you sank down to your knees.

“Wait—what are you…?”

You gave him a look like it should be obvious. “You already did enough up there, rockstar. Let me take care of you this time.”

His eyes widened slightly, a flush creeping into his already-heated face. “Y/N—”

“You looked so good,” you murmured, stroking him slowly, feeling him twitch back to life in your hand. “Singing, dancing, sweating… all for us. You worked so hard, baby.”

Jake swore under his breath, leaning back against the wall for support, his fingers gripping the edge of the metal siding.

“You’re insane,” he muttered, voice hoarse. “But I love it.”

You grinned, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his cock before dragging your tongue slowly along the underside. He was still sensitive, still catching his breath, but your touch was gentle—teasing him back to full hardness like it was the easiest thing in the world.

He hissed when you took him into your mouth, lips wrapping around him slowly, inch by inch.

“Fuck—Y/N…”

He tangled his fingers into your hair, but didn’t force you. Didn’t guide. Just held on like he needed something to anchor him.

You moved slowly, sucking and stroking, pulling him in deep before easing off and doing it again. Your eyes stayed on his the whole time, and the way he was looking at you—dazed, desperate, soft around the edges—made your stomach flutter.

“Just like that,” he breathed. “Shit, baby, you feel so good…”

You hollowed your cheeks, tongue working him over with every slow pull. He was panting now, hips twitching despite himself, his whole body tight with restraint.

“Gonna make me cum again,” he warned, voice barely steady. “Fuck, I’m—”

You didn’t stop.

You only moaned around him, and that sound—the soft vibration of it—was what tipped him over the edge. Jake’s hips bucked forward as he spilled into your mouth, cursing loud enough that someone probably heard backstage.

You swallowed, slow and easy, pulling off with a soft hum.

He stared down at you, completely wrecked, chest rising and falling like he’d just run another set.

“You’re evil,” he whispered, eyes full of awe.

You smirked, licking your lips. “No. I’m just really, really proud of you.”

Jake dropped to his knees and pulled you into his arms, holding you close like you were something precious.

“Next performance,” he said, breathless, “I’m dragging you on stage with me. Just so everyone knows who I’m running backstage for.”

“Shit,” Jake whispered, glancing at the dressing room door like it might swing open any second. “We’re actually insane.”

[the-original-skipps]

on this installment of skipps imagines I got mydei and phainon 👀

Taking slow deliberate steps, Phainon backs you up against the wall.

Once cornered, he places a hand on your waist pulling your body to his. Feeling flustered at the sudden action, your eyes immediately flicker downwards. Unable to meet his alluring gaze but not a moment too soon - his other large hand cups your jaw. Phainon forces you look meet his eyes, yearning swirling within his blue orbs. His thumb caressing the smooth skin of your cheek.

“May I? I don’t think I can hold back much longer…” His whispers to you in a silent plea, his patience moments away from snapping. His face inches closer and closer to yours till you could feel his radiating warmth. Your eyes instinctively fluttering closed as his breath ghosts against your lips. When he’s just about to seal his lips with yours, a sharp voice cuts through the air.

“Hey, deliverer..! Just what do you think you’re doing with what’s mine?”

[hana-no-seiiki]

READER: Do it

YANDERE: Do what?

READER: Say the line. Say it.

YANDERE: . . .

READER: Please it’d be so funny.

YANDERE: . . . *in the most awkward/stiff way* You belong to me, you’re mine.

READER: Pffft

YANDERE: *cries and hides themself in a corner*

[in-som-niyah]

Pressing the call button on Jason’s contact was the last thing he needed. You knew he was busy on patrol and you knew he couldn’t be coming back for something as trivial as your hurt feelings.

But just a phone call wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Jason?”

“Hey darling, everything ok?”

You hesitate and swallow hard

“Y-Yeah, yeah I was just calling to-“

“Tell me the truth.”

You try your damnest to stifle the sob that threatens to blow your cover, but Jason catches it anyway.

“I’ll be there in 10.”

[hyunjincanraptoo]

Knee socks

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: smut, sub!hyunjin

Genre: college au

Alexa, play Knee Socks by Arctic Monkeys

It was supposed to be a quiet study night.

Notes scattered across the coffee table, textbooks open, laptop screens flickering with unread slides. But Hyunjin hadn’t processed a single word in the last twenty minutes. He was leaning back on the couch, highlighter resting uselessly between his fingers, his gaze kept glued to your legs. More specifically, to your knee socks. That soft, ribbed material clung so deliciously to your thighs, peeking out under your skirt like it knew exactly how to torture him.

You, of course, noticed. You always noticed. You’d made a habit of teasing him since the semester started— loud, flirty energy wrapped in glossy lips and sharp eyeliner. You were the hot girl who had everyone’s attention in the lecture hall, and Hyunjin was the complete opposite. He was just the quiet one in the corner, the art student who tried to stay chill, pretended he didn’t care when you stole his pens or whispered something wicked into his ear during lunch break. But he did. He always did. Because he’d had a crush on you since week one.

You stretched your arms over your head, spine arching lazily, and his eyes followed the curve of your body like it was a reflex. Your skirt lifted slightly just a flash of thigh above the socks and his throat almost closed. “You’re not focusing”, you said, lips curled into a smirk. “I’m trying”, he admitted, sinking deeper into the couch, “My brain’s fried” “I’m trying,” he groaned, head tilted back against the cushion. “But it’s like my brain refuses to process anything”.

You smirked softly, “Maybe you just need a different kind of stimulation”. That got his attention, “Yeah? Like what, a shot of espresso? A slap to the face?”. Chuckling, you leaned closer, “No”, you said, voice dangerously slow, “Like… cockwarming”

The silence after that was thick and tangible. Hyunjin’s breath caught, eyes widening just enough to show you how caught off guard he really was. And then, a slow flush crept up his neck, “You’re not serious”, he said, but it sounded more like a dare than a denial. You tilted your head. “You said you need to study, right? I’ll sit on your lap. You stay in me. No movement, just warmth. You focus and I’ll even quiz you while we do it”.

Hyunjin blinked, mouth parting in disbelief, “You’re fucking evil”, he whispered, already shifting upright, tugging at his sweats. And that was how, ten minutes later, you were straddling him on the couch, thighs hugging his hips, skirt bunched around your waist, your knee socks brushing against his thighs as he sank deep inside you slowly— inch by inch, until you were full and snug and he was breathless beneath you.

Hyunjin exhaled a shaky moan against your shoulder, “Shit…”. You kissed his cheek— gentle, unhurried. “Focus now”, you whispered, “You’ve got three chapters to review”. But he was trembling already, jaw clenched, trying so hard not to buck his hips. Every time you shifted your weight just slightly or whispered a question into his ear, he twitched inside you, eyes fluttering shut with the effort it took to stay still.

And you? You were still— so perfectly still —settled on his lap like you belonged there. Warm, tight, pulsing around him with every shallow breath you took. It should’ve felt calming, grounding even. But it was maddening. Hyunjin had never known torture could feel like this.

His hands rested on your thighs, fingertips twitching now and then like he didn’t trust himself to move. You’d gone back to your notes, flipping pages like nothing was happening, like he wasn’t buried inside you, thick and aching, so hard it almost hurt.

He tried— fuck, he tried— to read the paragraph again, “…Chiaroscuro is a technique used in visual arts to create strong contrasts between light and dark…”, he mumbled weakly, blinking at the page. You chuckled softly, hips shifting just barely. Barely. But enough to provoke him.

His breath hitched sharply, nails digging into your skin through the thin fabric of your skirt, “Don’t”, he groaned, “Don’t do that” “Do what?”, you asked innocently, pen tapping against your lips. “That thing. That little… move”, you tilted your head, clearly amused, “I didn’t move” “You did… fuck, I felt it”. You gave him a slow smirk, leaned in close, lips brushing against the shell of his ear, “Maybe I just wanted to remind you I’m still here. Since you’re supposed to be so focused”.

He let out a low, frustrated whine— something like a laugh mixed with a desperate groan, “I can’t focus. You’re warm and wet and squeezing the life out of me just by breathing”. You kissed the corner of his jaw, soft and lingering, “Poor baby”. His hips jerked slightly, instinctive, uncontrolled, making you gasp, your hands flying to his shoulders to steady yourself, “Hyunjin!”, you scolded him.

He shut his eyes, panting now, “I said no moving”, you muttered, “You said it would help”, he replied, trying to gather himself, trying to sink into stillness again. You smiled, “It is helping. You’re learning how to practice self control” “Or you’re going to kill me”.

During the following minutes, he was so responsive— every breath a whimper, every glance at your thighs a confession he didn’t mean to make, “You’re trembling”, you teased softly, brushing his hair off his forehead. “I know”, he groaned, eyes squeezed shut. The room was quiet except for the sound of rustling paper, shallow breaths, and his occasional soft groans against your skin.

You leaned down again, whispering softly, almost cruelly, “Let’s see if you can get through three pages without twitching”. He swallowed hard, “You’re mean”. And yet he stayed inside you, trembling under your warmth, hands shaking slightly every time you shifted your weight just a little too much. And you just smiled, gently brushing your fingers through his hair while his thighs quivered beneath yours. Every muscle in him was pulled tight, vibrating with the effort to stay still— simply because you asked him to. Because he wanted to be good for you.

As your fingers were lazily toying with the ends of his hair, gently scratching his scalp, he desperately tried to finish the damn chapter. “Two pages left”, you whispered, but he barely nodded, teeth sunk into his bottom lip as his eyes skimmed over the paragraph again. You could see how hard he was trying, see the way he swallowed, slow and heavy.

And you didn’t mean to say it, but it slipped out in the quiet, “You’re so pretty like this”. His eyes shifted up to meet yours instantly, “What?”. You blinked, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “I said: you’re pretty when you’re trying so hard not to lose it”. His breath hitched again, jaw clenching, “You can’t just say stuff like that” “Why not?” “Because I’m already about to lose my mind. You say things like that and I…”. He trailed off, eyes fluttering closed out of frustration, “I don’t know what to do with it”.

You leaned closer, mouth just barely brushing his, “You let yourself feel it”. His eyes opened again, “Why you always do that?”, he said quietly. “Do what?” “Say things like it’s nothing. Like you don’t know what you do to me”. His voice cracked just slightly on the last word, and something in your chest tightened, “I know”, you whispered, “I do”.

And then it hung in the air thicker than the silence before it.

“I like you,” he said, suddenly, “Fuck, I’ve liked you for so long”. You blinked slowly, “I try to act like it’s casual,” he went on, fingers curling around your waist, “but I look at you and I just… I want everything. Not just this. Not just the heat or the tension or the way you whisper in my ear like it’s a joke”.

You stared at him without even being able to breathe, “I want all of it”, he said. “Your body in my bed late at night and your voice in my kitchen by the morning making me coffee. I want to know what you look like when you’re in love”. You blinked again, now harder, heart pounding so loud you could barely hear yourself think.

“I thought we were just classmates,” you began, “Yn…”, he said gently, “It was never like that”. There was nothing playful in his gaze anymore. You swallowed thickly, fingers slipping into his hair again, tugging him just slightly closer, “Then maybe”, you whispered, brushing your lips against his, “We should just not play pretend anymore”

You were the one who moved first. His mouth was on yours, open and hungry, the kiss deep and needy. Your hips rolled down hard, and he whimpered, sounding high, broken, desperate. His hands clawed at your waist, your back, eyes wide and glossy as you moved again, slowly grinding down until he was gasping under you. “Please”, he gasped, “Please, I… fuck, I can’t…” “Shhh”, you cooed, threading your fingers into his hair, tugging gently, “Be good and let me ride you”.

He nodded frantically, hands clinging to you like you were the only thing tethering him to earth. You set a slow, deep rhythm, letting him feel every inch of you, moaning sweetly at how perfectly he fits inside you. Hyunjin was gone beneath you, his eyes fluttering, lips parted, moaning softly every time your fingers brushed his skin, every time your body squeezed tighter around him.

You kissed him hard, messy and hot, swallowing the shaky whimper he made when you clenched around him on purpose. His hands slid under your shirt, fingers playing across your bare back, pulling you closer against him, chest to chest. The room felt thick with heat now, his breath ragged in your ear, his voice wrecked. You tangled your fingers in his hair, forehead pressed to his, feeling every tremble in his breath. Your name spilled from his mouth like a mantra, over and over, until his voice was raw and you were gasping with him, chasing the end together.

He whimpered— just softly, the sound barely escaping his lips. You pressed a slow kiss to the corner of his mouth, “Tell me if you want me to stop”. He shook his head quickly, “No, please… don’t”, his voice cracked on the last word. You smiled gently and reached between your bodies, stroking the part of him that didn’t quite fit inside you. His hands clenched into fists on either side of the couch, knuckles white as you drive him insane.

His head fell back, throat exposed, quiet moans caught in his chest, “You’re so good for me”, you praised softly. “I bet you’ve thought about this before,” you continued, still rocking slowly, just enough to make him see stars, “Me riding you quietly. Sitting pretty and warm on your cock while you try to pretend you’re not falling apart”. “I- I did,” he confessed, breath catching, “I’ve thought about it so many times… shit….” “I know you have”. You leaned in, tongue tracing the shell of his ear, “And now look at you. Just a desperate little thing under me”.

Something in him snapped at that— his hands flew to your hips, but not to guide, not to take control, just to hold. To beg, silently, for more, “You want to cum?”, you asked, voice thick with lust. He nodded quickly, face flushed in a deep red, “Beg for it, then” you whispered. He whined again, hips twitching helplessly beneath you, “Please… please let me… I need it”, he gasped, “I need you… I can’t hold it anymore…” “Then cum for me”, you breathed against his lips, clenching down around him just enough to send him over the edge.

He shattered beneath you with a broken cry, body trembling violently as he spilled inside you, clinging to your hips like he’d fall apart if he let go. You held him close, riding out the aftershocks, kissing his neck tenderly, fingers stroking his hair damp with sweat as he collapsed beneath you. “You did so well”, you whispered against his skin, “So sweet for me”. And he just nodded, dazed and dizzy, still buried deep inside you, still full of you, barely able to breathe, but glowing with something soft and blissed out, like he’d just experienced something sacred— like he’d give anything to stay just like this a little longer.

You stayed curled on his lap, his arms still wrapped around your waist, both of you warm and breathless and trembling in the silence. Neither of you spoke for a long moment, just breathing, heartbeats tangled, skin flushed and slick and trembling in the quiet aftermath.

And then, softly, he spoke again, “I meant it”, he whispered, “Every word”. You kissed him gently, forehead to forehead, “I know. Me too”.

And that was it. No more pretending. Just tangled bodies, warm skin, and the quiet knowledge that something had changed— not just between your bodies, but in the tender space between your hearts.

If you enjoyed it please consider liking and reblogging. Feedbacks, loves notes and requests are very much appreciated 😊

[vitreouspositive]

alright guys fun quiz time!! is megatron insinuating he knows that optimus' true feelings for him! or is he stating how he knows optimus would never choose him over the autobots...

[alana-reid-2005]

i need some air-

[7brownsuga7]

Reassurance | Taehyung

MDNI!

Taehyung had a habit of making you watch yourself in the mirror as he pleased you. The glow of the dimly lit room casting a soft golden hue over your reflection. Taehyung standing behind you, his chest flush against your back, his arms wrapped securely around you.

Presence solid, warm, and intoxicating. His dark eyes meet yours in the mirror, filled with something deeper than desire—something reassuring, grounding.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he murmurs, voice thick with admiration as his hands trace slow, deliberate patterns over your bare skin. His lips brushing your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Your breath hitches as his fingers glide lower, teasing, testing. “You’re doing so well for me, baby,” he whispers, the deep tone of his voice washing over you like a lullaby. He knows he has you in a vulnerable position - bare and open. But he’s proud of you, he wants you to see what he sees every time he touches you and fucks you. You should be able to witness how beautiful you look when you take him.

His finger circles around your wet hole - collecting the moisture before sliding in between your folds. You jerk at the soothing and sinful touch, chest rising as you study yourself in the mirror. Your face flushed, skin glowing, and eyes glimmering. Your eyes lower to his slender fingers as they rub your clit - causing your knees to buckle.

“I’ve got you” his voice soothes you as you adjust to the feeling of this intense pleasure. His hold around you tightens when he adds a finger inside you, slowly pumping it in and out - earning a few breathless sighs from you. Every whispered praise, every slow stroke of his fingers, every deliberate movement pulls you deeper into the moment, into him.

Your fingers clutch at the cool surface of the vanity, your body arching into his touch. “Taehyung…” you gasp, eyes fluttering shut, but he tuts softly, one hand tilting your chin back up.

“Look at yourself,” he orders gently, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “I want you to see how perfect you are—how much I adore you.”

His touch is slow, reverent, as if he’s savoring every inch of you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Every part of you. Do you see what I see?”

You nod, breath catching as his fingers trace down your sides, teasing, exploring. He watches your expression in the mirror, eyes dark yet tender. When your gaze flickers downward, hesitant, he tilts your chin back up with gentle fingers.

“Don’t look away,” he whispers.

His hands continue their slow worship, and a soft whimper escapes your lips. He shushes you sweetly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “You’re doing so well for me, baby. Just relax. Let me take care of you.”

You exhale shakily, leaning into him, trusting him. He strokes soothing circles into your skin, grounding you. “I’ve got you,” he reassures. “I always do. Just focus on me. Focus on how good you feel.”

His movements become more deliberate, his lips trailing along your neck as he whispers, “You deserve this. You deserve to be cherished.”

And in that moment, with his warmth surrounding you, his touch guiding you, you believe him.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Wouldn't you like to see something strange?

HI I know the new Halloween character isn't out yet but I needed an outlet for my excitement (Yes, I am unfortunately a Nightmare Before Christmas girlie) 💀 so please be advised that he may not be in character here, I'm just writing based on vibes! This is technically a twisted!Jack Skellington x Reader fic, but the Reader is basically playing a role similar as Sally from the film.

P.S. I want everyone to know that I busted out my drawing tablet to make this special border for him the same day he was first announced... Yeah...

Boo.

On the nights with full moons, he liked to steal away to the Spiral Hill on the outskirts of town.

The outcrop of land overlooked a vast graveyard and field laden with pumpkins, perfuming the air with the crisp sweetness characteristic of autumn. Beyond it, uncharted territory. When he squinted into the darkness, he could make out the vague shapes of naked trees, their gnarled branches like fingers beckoning him to approach, whispering his name.

He draped his long, lithe legs over the hill, letting them hang in the frigid air. Spindly as he was, the wind easily blew them, knocking his legs around like the straw-stuffed limbs of a scarecrow. He kicked with the breeze, carefree as a child on a playground swing.

The moon stitched his pinstriped suit and tattered cravat with silver thread, touched his pointed crown at its highest points. Even the white ribbons ribbing his jacket and the pattern of bones tugged over his gloves seemed to glow under the celestial light. He liked the view, and the view seemed to like him, too.

Held in his skeletal hand was a single flower. He stroked a silken petal, then slipped another finger under it, plucking the petal free. The wind claimed it, setting it sailing off into the unknown.

He continued. A second, a third. So on and so forth, until the flower was left stripped down and barren, even robbed of its leaves.

He dropped the stem off the hill. The pumpkins below consumed it, and the once lovely flower’s body became one with the patch.

"I figured this is where you were."

He lowered his dark circular lenses. His bright eyes slid to the figure that had approached from behind, on feet so swift they hardly made a sound. They came in with the sweetness of deadly nightshade, the trace of a poisoning committed at midnight. "Not a lethal dose, just enough to knock the doctor out for a few hours," as they always said. "How else would I sneak out to see you?"

Dry, ghostly lips dashed with hatch marks pried into an open smile, both teeth and the gaps between them. Charming, in a crooked sort of way. "My dear. You've come."

You bent down. “If you don't mind, I'd like to join.”

“The spot beside me is always reserved for you.” He patted it, inviting you to take a seat.

"Such a gentleman." You sunk down, folding your hands in your lap. "And so handsome when you're brooding. You're terribly good at that."

He was, he was, especially silhouetted by the moon. The man was practically monochrome, but bathed in silver like this, his pale skin was less sickly and more ethereal. He almost appeared like a cruel angel in the light, descending to expunge evil.

"I'm not brooding," he pouted, "I'm dreaming."

“Dreaming." You reached out and tucked a strand of alabaster hair behind his ear. "Father says it’s a ridiculous, wild thing.”

"Ah, but that's what makes it so much thrilling. Life’s no fun without a good scare.”

His mouth quirked to one side, and his smile became off-kilter--as his ideas often were. "He'll bring us to ruin with his crazy, new-fangled thinking and flights of fancy," your father would complain. But you adored that about the boy. How spontaneous he was, how his curiosity was never-ending. He'd race about like a child, picking items up and sticking his face where it probably shouldn't go.

Full of life in this otherwise lifeless town.

"What's this? What's this?" he'd say. "I must know!"

"He's gone daffy," your father would declare.

"Mmm." You nodded absentmindedly, tracing your fingers along the shell of his ear and down to his arm. "What were you dreaming about today?"

He lifted his head, looking beyond the hill and to the woods. Not a word was exchanged. None had to be.

"The Hinterlands?" you whispered. "But we don't know what's out there. No ghoul or monster has ever ventured out that far."

"Then sounds like I'll be the first! They’ll put me down in the history books as a pioneer." His laughter brightened up the gloomy night. When he quieted, his gaze was solemn—more solemn than you'd ever witnessed him. "... Don't you wonder about what's out there? Stuff that's cold and fluffy and falls from the sky. Things that come in colors we haven't seen."

"Sometimes," you admitted quietly, "but those are just dreams. I don't chase them."

"Maybe you should. We should," he mused, fingers tucked under his chin. "I bet there's all sorts of things we've never even dreamed of, too. And wouldn’t you like to see something strange?”

"I would. I really, really would," you told him in a soothing tone. Trying to reassure him as much as you were yourself. "Let's not doing anything dangerous though. I sense something in the wind—tragedy at hand. I can't shake that feeling that something bad is around the bend if you tread that path."

You gingerly laid your hand over his. Behind tinted lenses, his eyes widened.

"Stay here with me," you begged. "We can be together. Gaze at the stars. Be safe in one another's arms."

“… Sweetness, I would love for nothing more than to have you and to hold you ‘til death do us part.” His voice fluttered like the brush of a falling leaf upon your cheek. He regarded you tenderly, locking his fingers with yours and squeezing. “But you know that’s not the kind of man I am.”

“Yes, you’re every flavor of foolish imaginable,” you replied, pressing your forehead against his, “and I love you for that.”

“As do I.” He brought his icy lips to the back of your hand. A chill spider-walked up your arm, and you shivered.

“Then…”

“That’s why I must depart one day.” He pushed his glasses up. You caught the tragic reflection of your face in his lenses. “Out there… something more awaits us. I’m sure of that. I intend to find it and revive our town, this season that’s gone stale.”

“I won’t stop you if you decide to go,” you murmured. “And I will count the days until you return to me.”

“I knew you’d understand.” His smile—now it was touched with sadness, the knowledge of soon parting ways. “Thank you, dearest.”

He stood slowly, drawing you up with him. Your feet followed, as if pulled along by a puppeteer. How in sync the two of you were, how nicely molded your bodies were to one another’s. Your joy melded under the watchful eye of the moon.

“Shall we share a dance? One for the road,” he crooned. An errant breeze tousled his pallid hair, his tattered coattails—but to you, he was fairest of them all. “Our last dance for a while.”

“Alright, let’s make this one count,” you chuckled, “so I can send you off on your travels with a smile.”

“Excellent 🎵” He slid a hand around your waist, guiding you to lean into him. “Let the merrymaking commence!!”

“Yes…!!”

The midnight waltz began.

He led you, step by step, and you trailed after. Movements easy and effortless, like two intertwining maple leaves, spinning and spiraling. Their partner, the center of their universe.

“It’s as plain anyone can see,” he breathed.

“We’re simply meant to be,” you returned.

They danced as if possessed or an enchantment was cast upon their footwear. The moment too sweet, too succulent, to relinquish so soon. They wanted to savor it, indulge in it—and each other.

For never was there a more perfect pair than the Pumpkin King and his consort.

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining (squint harder y'all), a lot of cussing (wouldn't be a bkg fic w/o 'em), reader has an ex-boyfriend, our boy kiri finally makes an appearance

words. 2.7k (i had to stop my head was aching)

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

If you were to suddenly rise to fame overnight, for what reason would it be?

The answer you’ve always had for these silly icebreaker questions was simple. That one passion you’ve nurtured as a hobby, perhaps? Or the hidden talent—party trick, really—that your friends always goaded you into demonstrating during get-togethers? Or it could be getting recognized for the work that you do and how much of your soul you put into it.

Really, it could have easily been any of the three.

Which is why you couldn’t have seen this reality hurling straight at you even if it was waving a shining red flag at you from a safe distance.

You adjust the face mask that’s snug against your cheeks for the umpteenth time, vaguely aware of the child seated in front of you who’s also staring like he’s trying to make out who you’re supposed to be under the barrier.

Tamping down the annoyance springing in your gut over a kid occupying a precious chair in this crowded subway train during rush hour, you shift on your feet and tug down with your extra hand the hat that you quickly threw on on your way out this morning.

It was the least you could do after unceremoniously finding out through your best friend at 5:37 AM that you’ve become one of the Internet’s sensational hits overnight, now being dubbed as #2 Pro-hero Bakugou Katsuki’s heavy-handed girlfriend, emphasis on the heavy.

Needless to say, the news sent you into panic and you couldn’t go back to sleep no matter how hard you tried. Your emotions and thoughts went into overdrive, and you found yourself at the crack of dawn mulling over the options you had in front of you.

You knew you were grasping for straws when you started thinking about stealing someone else’s identity and moving far, far away from Japan where the concepts of pro-heroes and the World Wide Web were unbeknownst to the living population.

That pipeline got you nowhere.

Which leads you to the present: decked out in a flimsy disguise, horridly sleep-deprived, anxious as hell, squished between late salarymen and chatty high schoolers in a cramped train carriage, and subject to the increasingly scrutinizing stare of this kid in front of you.

To your relief, you arrive at your station before the child can put two and two together and expose you to the rest of the crowd. You quickly shuffle out and expertly weave yourself through the sea of people, desperate to get out of the public space and into the safety of Ground Riot agency.

Though your imagined bubble of safety is immediately popped the moment you enter the building and feel what has to be dozens of pairs of eyes on you.

You hurriedly scan your employee ID and head for the elevators, heaving a relieved sigh when no one follows you into the space.

It’s barely 8 AM, and you’re already drenched in sweat. You’re in the middle of wondering if you’re already sporting a fucking pit stain when your phone chimes its familiar tune, signifying a text message.

You peek at the notification banner to see Bakugou’s name, alongside a short directive.

(7:51 AM) Bakugou (Dynamight): Conference Room A—be there in 10. PR and the rest want to see both of us.

Fuck.

The room’s not empty by the time you stumble in seven minutes later. Hiramasa Hikari, your direct subordinate in charge of employee relations, is seated on one of the comfy office chairs circling the long, oval table, looking indubitably harrowed as she thumbs through an all-too-familiar booklet.

Wordlessly, you walk towards where she is and plop yourself down on the seat across from her, right on the side of the end-of-the-table throne where Bakugou usually plants his butt during meetings.

You might have moved a little too silently because she startles when she looks up and sees you looking at her like you don’t know what to say.

Because you don’t.

Instead, you flash her an uneasy smile, which she returns right back. Although it morphs into a frown, “I’m guessing we both recognize how comical the situation is right now?”

At that, both of your gazes drift to the said document, conveniently titled ‘Workplace Relationships: Policies and Protocols,’ with your name written underneath as one of the principal authors.

You purse your lips into a tight line, suddenly feeling the tiniest bit of shame spurring in your gut.

You wouldn’t call yourself militant when it comes to carrying out rules and regulations related to your job, but being on the receiving end of a lecture regarding workplace relationships is—for the lack of a better term—humbling.

Even if the whole thing that led you here is fake.

Before you can stutter out an appropriately vague enough response to your colleague, the glass doors open like flood gates and in comes Bakugou in his hero costume, followed by Mikuri (the PR head you’ve talked about during your meltdown), and a group of coworkers who you’ve identified as a portion of the agency’s legal team.

You and Hikari stand up at their arrival, and sure enough, Bakugou pulls out the seat to your right, barely sparing you a glance as he situates himself.

The rest quickly follow suit, the atmosphere so tense you could cut it with a meat cleaver.

Nobody says anything for a while before Hikari clears her throat awkwardly, evidently feeling self-conscious over speaking in front of her higher-ups. “I guess I can start, then?”

You give her an encouraging nod as if you’re not about to be roasted by the very same girl you’ve been training directly since she got recruited two years ago.

Hikari clears her throat again before fixing her firm gaze on you. “It has come to our attention that multiple news articles have been circulating since last night,” she pauses as her eyes dart between you and Bakugou, “about the two of you.”

A pregnant pause.

“…Care to explain?”

You can’t believe it. You’re about to expose yourself and this embarrassing stunt you pulled. And you can’t help the dread that courses through your system at the thought of admitting out loud how you roped in your boss, of all people, to pretend as your date so that you could hide from the ex who dumped you over the phone how much of a loser you are.

How much a loser you’ve become, the present moment in mind.

It couldn’t get any more pitiful than that.

But you have to face the truth, and you realize that time is running out fast as you survey the expectant looks directed at you one by one as if everything’s in slow motion.

Finally, you open your mouth to blurt it out and get it over with, but Bakugou beats you to it.

In fact, he doesn’t miss a beat.

Which is fucking astounding, because what he’s about to say next quite literally causes your jaw to drop.

“We’re dating,” he states, voice even. “There’s your explanation.”

The exact moment he says that outright, blatant lie, it’s like all the air in the conference room gets sucked into a vacuum. You find yourself feeling lightheaded and it takes everything in you not to collapse like a boneless heap on the lawyer beside you. You think Bakugou notices because his eyes shift to look at you, and his eyebrows furrow so minutely as if he’s telepathically saying ‘Get it together.’

And so you do.

You don’t know what the fuck he’s thinking, lying like this to the very people who need to know the truth to effectively clean up the mess you’ve inadvertently made in just one Sunday, but at this point, you know better than to contradict Bakugou’s words.

“We’re dating,” you parrot, voice wobbly, “…yes.”

You will yourself to look up from the clasped hands on your lap, only to immediately regret it. Some of the members of the legal team are staring at either Bakugou and you with straight-up disbelief, while the others toss you a playful wink. Hikari, Mikuri, and Sawamura, the lead lawyer, however, look unsettled at best.

“Since when,” Sawamura starts, although he sort of chokes on his spit. He clears his throat, “—since when has this been happening?”

The pro-hero’s reply is almost instantaneous. “Why the fuck would I tell you that?”

Ignoring Bakugou’s defensive retort, you instead jump in to respond as calmly as you can. “Around two months ago. When we worked late nights on that issue under Hikari’s unit. We, uh—” you chance a glance at Bakugou, who’s looking at you intently, “—we were actually planning to disclose it to HR today, if you can believe that.”

“And you punching the groom at the wedding you attended,” Mikuri suddenly adds, voice pointed. “Was that part of the plan, too?”

At the reminder of your act of sin, you visibly cringe in front of your colleagues. You hear Hikari hold back a snort, and you flush further in embarrassment.

To your surprise, Bakugou speaks up. “That was her dickhead of an ex, and he was being an asshole to her.” He grunts, “She was only defending her name.”

Despite yourself, you can’t help but gawk at the man. The last thing you expected was for him to defend you. And so sincerely, at that. He could be a great actor.

“Well, regardless of the intentions, we have to deal with the act and its resulting consequences,” Sawamura sighs, before turning to face you. “We already briefed Bakugou on the way here but the guy and his family are threatening to sue for damages.”

“S-sue?” you choke out.

Mikuri nods solemnly in response. “I know Bakugou here wants to fight fire with fire by exposing the guy’s character but we believe it’s best to keep things as hush-hush as possible to prevent any more repercussions on his general popularity rating.” She gives you a once-over, “Would that be okay with you?”

You barely manage a nod, although she seemingly finds it more than enough.

“We’ve since been in contact with their lawyer and are on our way to a settlement,” the head lawyer packs on. “We’re scheduled to meet them in,” he checks his sports watch, “two hours.”

“In the meantime,” Mikuri interjects, “we might suggest you stay off your non-essential social media sites as we wait for the issue to die down.”

You nod again, failing to repress a weak laugh at the belated advice. “Don’t worry, I’m already on that.”

“In fact,” you quickly add before anyone else can interrupt you, “So much so that I don’t know what the hell is going on out there. How is Bakugou fairing in the ranks right now?”

Again, you feel the said man eyeing your side profile.

Mikuri cocks her head to the side in reflection, “Surprisingly, he’s holding up okay. We’ve had a marked increase in activity from the adolescent to young adult female demographic especially, but they’re all mixed reviews.”

At that, Bakugou sneers. “What am I, a fucking movie for these extras to rate?”

You snort, and now you see Bakugou side-eye you, although there’s no bite to it.

“Anyway,” Sawamura interjects, “That’s more or less it from us and PR as well, I believe. We’ll keep you both posted.” The man glances at Hikari, “Hiramasa-san, anything else from your department?”

“Oh, yes,” she quickly riffles through her documents before settling on the booklet from earlier and timidly handing it to Bakugou, who accepts it gingerly. “My supervisor here knows the guidebook by heart so you two should be good in keeping yourselves in check.”

Her eyes quickly dart to you as if to watch your reaction before they just as quickly dart back to Bakugou. “But just to reiterate, we strive to keep everything professional here at Ground Riot agency, so that means drawing a clear boundary between your work and personal lives. That also means no inappropriate PDA.”

“Tch.”

You gulp, feeling all sorts of weird all of a sudden. Accidentally demonstrating PDA with Bakugou should be the least of your worries but there’s no denying the pulse of anxiety that resonates at the mention of it.

After you and Bakugou begrudgingly agree to the terms and conditions, the meeting finally gets adjourned and your workmates pile out of the room one by one. You don’t realize how tense your shoulders are until you’re left alone with Bakugou, and you allow yourself one deep exhale.

Your boss, who’s still sporting a sour expression on his face, shifts his attention to you at the sound. You feel yourself shrink in a bit under his penetrating gaze, although you try to straighten your spine soon thereafter.

You take a few steps towards the doorway and peek through the hall for any bystanders. Once sure that you’re most definitely alone, you turn to Bakugou. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

He’s not looking at you but his eyebrows furrow still, revealing his listening. He doesn’t say anything, though.

You continue. “It’s obviously bothering you that we’re keeping up this charade. Never mind your ranking potentially slipping, what about the stress of having to pretend and hearing people talk? You don’t need that on top of—”

“I don’t give a single fuck what people say about me.”

You knew that, yet you still frown at his tone. “But you give a fuck about being number one.”

At that, Bakugou finally moves to face you. “Look, I hate that I have to say this, but even if I had no dating scandal affecting my popularity rating, good or bad, all this doesn’t make a difference in helping me get past shitty De– Izuku, at least in a way that matters.”

He huffs before looking away to the floor-to-ceiling windows. “That popularity shit’s out of my control and has nothing to do with my abilities. The other metrics are.”

As you gaze at his back, you think about how image is in fact important when it comes to being the ultimate hero—mind drifting back to All Might and how he served as the pinnacle of safety with his powers and impactful symbolism. But then it gravitates to Endeavor and how, despite his far from amiable personality akin to that of Bakugou’s, he earned the people’s trust in his own way as the new #1 upon All Might’s retirement.

“Okay,” you exhale again, “I believe you. Still doesn’t explain why you seem so bothered, though.”

Bakugou immediately whips around to look at you, frustration etched on his pretty features. “Why did that jackass even invite you in the first place?”

That’s what’s bothering him?

You chuckle, although what you’re about to say probably isn’t a laughing matter. “I think it’s because he saw me as a charity case,” you pause, debating whether or not to tell him the embarrassing truth, eventually opting to do so. “He always made me feel like I should thank my lucky stars I scored him, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought he was doing me a favor by inviting me to his wedding.”

“…You know you can do better than that dipshit, right?”

You smile despite yourself, “I know… That’s why I’m dating you, right?”

You only meant to lighten the mood after what has been a grueling, impromptu meeting, but you didn’t expect Bakugou to redden in what you think is annoyance at the innocent quip.

You immediately backtrack. “I was just—trying to, uh—’m just joking around…”

Bakugou doesn’t get the chance to potentially snap at you in irritation because Kirishima, Red Riot, waltzes in with a big, toothy grin on his face.

He beams at you then turns to regard his best friend, grin growing even more in size as if that was still possible.

And what he says next confuses the shit out of you and grants him a hard shove from your now fake boyfriend.

“Congrats, Bakubro! Freaking finally!”

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @chelbyisbord @lovra974 @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble @moonz33 @citrustsuki @deadhands69

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are much appreciated <3 they really do make a difference! have a lovely day~