#Mirror silliness is entertaining for me

[asaemoryfanclub]

Venom Nightcrawler !!!!! The Best of Both World's

There's some very stunning images of Nightcrawler with a Venom type symbiote and I just adore it so🥹🥹🥹 but I truly don't know anything about comics, and my vague understanding is he is not he main character of this comic, truly saddening ☹️☹️

Edit: so sorry to the original comics artist I really thought it was official, so credits to @monoflaxart

[messenger-cloudcat]

my humour's target audience is myself. oh, you didnt find that funny? thats fine, im over here laughing myself hoarse after making a joke no one gets the context of.

[knife-dad]

Gonna be honest the second half of this mdzs playlist (with extra silliness) is probably one of the best things I've ever made. I'm so proud of it and I mean that sincerely from the bottom of my heart

[princessbrunette]

can’t stop thinking about babydaddy!rafe taking toddler!daughter out for the day because you have plans — and he’s not really sure what the best way to entertain a toddler is, so he takes her to the drive-through zoo.

she seems happy enough in her car seat in the back, the buzz-cut kook checking her through the mirror every so often until they arrive there. “alright, y’ready to see some animals? huh?” he coo’s, craning round to look at her as she squeals and bangs her chubby fists in excitement. “yeaaah. you look excited. looove animals, just like mommy — don’t you?” he pulls into the ticket booth, scanning the code on his phone before they let him in, rafe’s large expensive car crawling slowly up the cobblestone.

it’s hard to know if she’s enjoying the sights at first, blinking her big round eyes at the sights that pass her. until of course, she’s confronted with her favourite animal. the animal she was most excited about when daddy told her they were going to the zoo.

“camel!” she yells, and rafe lets the car sit still, the two gazing out their assigned windows at the dusty animal boredly inspecting some grass. “camel from the book, daddy!” she babbles in baby talk, and though he’s got no clue why she’d be so excited over a camel of all animals, or what ‘book’ she’s babbling about — he entertains it anyway.

“thats right, peanut.” he croons, turning in his seat once again to look her way, sunglasses rattling against his chest where they hang from his polo. the camel comes a little closer to the car, and despite your strict instruction — rafe unwinds his daughters window just a tad. “look at thaaat, huh?”

“camel! camel!” she clasps her hands together — the spitting image of you and rafe smiles, all warm and genuine. it was a real shame you couldn’t come today. the camel looks right through the window at his little girl before spitting in disinterest on the ground and continuing to trot away. rafe kisses his teeth.

“yeah walk away from my little girl, rude ass bitch.” he lets slip. it’s quiet, but he knows he shouldn’t say it anyway. luckily for his little girl, she didn’t seem to mind or notice the camels disinterest, happily humming to herself as rafe continues to slowly drive the car along the cobble once more. there’s a couple of seconds of silence — and just as rafe is about to fill it, asking if she’d wanna see the monkeys next, your daughter speaks up.

loud and unabashed, she grins. “bitch!”

rafe blinks, head whipping round to glance at her. “oh sh— uh, nah. honey we don’t uh, we don’t say those things alright? s’a bad word. your mommy will kill me if she hears y—”

“bitch! bitch bitch bitch!” she giggles, clapping her hands together. rafe presses his lips together at his only mistake.

“hey, language kiddo.”

the rest of the day is spent filled with distractions for his little girl. ensuring she forgets all about that naughty word by buying her whatever useless stuffed animal from the drive in zoo, whatever chicken nuggets from the restaurant that she’ll barely nibble on, repeating whatever silly joke that makes her cackle. he’s convinced it works, and soon — even rafe forgets all about the incident.

she’s practically asleep by the time rafe’s handing her back to you at the end of their day.

“was everything okay? did you take pictures?” you smile, looking tired from whatever chaotic day you’d had but still beautiful nonetheless. rafe blinks himself out of a stare quickly, going to answer.

“no yeah, loads uh… i’ll send ‘em through when i get home.” he nods, wiping his hands on his pockets watching the toddler stir, now back in her mothers arms. she gives you a tight cuddle before sleepily craning round to look at rafe, hair all messy and one eye still stuck shut.

“say bye to daddy.” you coo quietly, bouncing her a few times. she’s seemingly too tired, instead offering a tiny fist to wave at him in parting. he smiles, eyes flickering away from you to catch her hand and press a kiss to it before backing up— taking in the perfect family that was just out of his reach before turning back around to walk back to his car, fishing for his keys in his pocket.

then, comes your daughters voice. raspy and sleepy — yet clear and unmistakeable.

“bye bitch!”

rafe slowly spins on his heel, just in time to watch your face turn from confusion, to horror, to pissed off. at him.

[retiredteabag]

The eyes of the beholder

my masterlist

Sukuna genuinely does not understand the concept of physical insecurity.

He has pride unrivaled by any, his assurity never wavers, and despite his unique appearance, he does not consider himself strange.

Additionally, Sukuna has a hard time putting himself in the shoes of others. He deems himself perfect. You are his favored one, so he attributes the same to you.

He sees you as the height of beauty and never entertains a different notion. It would never come to his mind.

What? You think he's wrong when he says your beauty is unparalleled? You think him a liar? You don't trust his judgment? Truly, he does not comprehend insecurity.

"Not everything is about you, Kuna." You spin around in one of the estate's halls of mirrors and run you hands over the subtle stretch marks that appear on your hips.

You had been trying on formal attire for one of the estate's events, something both you and Sukuna hated. He could likely feel any unhappy emotion that permeated your space.

You never enjoyed having to critique whether or not something was flattering on your body and Sukuna was no help as he wouldn’t allowed criticism of you.

He thought it was a waste of time because to him, it all looked appealing.

That, and you both hated events. Balls, Galas, Auctions, the whole gambit. None of it suited your interests, and The King thought them a disturbance.

You finally pulled on your original clothing, ruffling it this way and that so it would fall just right, and stepped out from behind the hall's flowing curtains.

"You wound me when you say things like that." Sukuna had his head leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed.

"I'll let everyone know just how well I can wound their King." You scoff and roll you eyes.

"Heavens, don’t they know?” He sits up. All four of his red eyes glower at you as if you've cast some kind of spell his way. "Why does this upset you so? Haven't I said that flaws hold no residence within you?"

Your lips are pulled into a frown. You know he couldn’t possibly understand, at first, it felt somewhat invalidating. His mindset was so far from yours, of course he would think it skewed.

"Don't you just think that because I have unfortunately found favor with you?" You begin to fold the options that the seamstresses had brought you as he huffs at your choice of words. "You were sculpted perfectly as you know, you and I are different."

He grumbles, having heard your complaints before. But you continue before he can take issue with it.

"My skin has these markings, and my thighs touch when I stand, my frame is far from ideal-" You turn to him now, "-and I cannot always love how things fit me as you do."

It's not that you're actually upset, just somewhat flummoxed by The King of Curses mindset.

Sukuna had sat up as you spoke, and now his posture bends toward you. He wears the silliest face you have ever possibly seen him produce and it almost makes you laugh.

His mouth is slightly open, lip arched, his eyes are wide but his brows are pulled together at your words and you could guess that he has never been so confused.

"What?" You almost giggle.

"By God, you care entirely too much."

You have to take a deep breath before he continues, "Your skin? What is it wrong with your skin? I quite like your skin. Would you rather I find you a furry pelt you can wear?"

It's moments like these that remind you of how silly this man is. You shake your head, but he continues, slowly, bewildered.

"Your... thighs touch? I see not how that could be an issue. Do not my thighs touch as well? How is it you are able to invent these things to be bothered by?"

Although you had been frustrated a moment before, you know he has a point. He had lived through many more centuries, it very well might have seemed strange to worry over such things.

Sukuna stands, coming closer without pause, and tugs on the draping of your garb. "What formula are you using to decide what looks good and what does not?" His hands find your body and squeeze over you in an almost ticklish way.

It was not sexual, it was not uncomfortable either. He was simply feeling you. He loved your being, whatever shell you presented in. Eventually, his palm came up and engulfed the top of your head, his fingers dangled by your eyes. "Hmmm, I cannot understand. Anything would be flattering if it was put on you."

A part of you wanted to murmur, "That's just what you're saying." But you knew Sukuna, and you knew he meant it. The concept that you might hold his same mindset was an impossibility at that moment in the hall of mirrors.

But you had many other moments to share with your King and believe me when I say, that man could be convincing.

[ssahotchnerr]

Aaron’s wife getting drunk on spiked egg nog at a party with the rest of the BAU and she’s just all over Aaron. Kissing every part of his face and pinching his cheeks, she even tells the rest of the team cute stuff he does for her and being like “isn’t he the bestest hubby ever?!” Aaron’s just in the corner blushing lol

lovestruck and eggnog

!!!!!!!!!!!<3333 cw; fem!reader, reader is intoxicated, mentions of drinking, fluff, small allusions to sex/praise

in the midst of the party, you made your way back to aaron. he's been seated in the same spot for a while - exactly where you had been with him an hour ago - but still, his presence surprised you, your few glasses of spiked eggnog all to thank.

you promptly dropped yourself onto his lap, absolutely buzzing. your voice was on the sing-song side, your words slurring together the smallest amount. "hi handsome."

"hi honey," aaron chuckled quietly, amusingly wrapping an arm securely around your waist. his eyes scanned you, quick to notice your current state. "having fun?"

"a ton." you nodded giddily, "especially now, now that i'm with you." you reached past him, grabbing the santa hat perched atop derek's head - "hey!" - and sloppily onto aaron's, rather lopsidedly at that.

a giggle erupted from you, "look how cute you look!" you turned to derek, wrapping your arms loosely around aaron's neck. you squeezed him softly, causing your cheek to come flush with his. "isn't he so cute?"

derek snorted faintly, covering it up by bringing his drink to his lips. "he's a stunner, for sure."

aaron subtly glared at morgan, while you continued. "i love you, just so much." you placed a kiss on his cheek. and then another. and then another.

aaron laughed gently as his hands sprawled across the span of your back, holding you close - and steadily - to him. the more you littered kisses across his skin, the more his cheeks flushed, "what're you doing?"

"loving on you silly." you gave him an almost offended look, before your face returned to that soft, lovey-dovey expression. "because i love you. and i love being your wife." you took his face in your hands, planting a kiss onto his lips. "i love that i get to do this wheneverrr i want."

quick to reciprocate, but more reservedly in view of his colleagues, aaron gave you one more, small peck, "i love you too darling."

"you're perfect." your focus went back to derek, as emily and penelope joined the three of you as well. "he's perfect. wanna know what perfect things he does?"

"don't hold back on us," emily egged you on completely, at the playful expense of aaron - she shot him thoroughly entertained look.

"he gives me soo many back rubs, especially if i have a bad day. he leaves me sticky notes everywhere. on my coffee mug, on the bathroom mirror, on my pillow if he leaves early. i find a ton when you're all gone on a case, i don't even know how he does it." your nose scrunched a tad, befuddlement in your voice. "must be magic."

"and what do these notes say?" penelope asked eagerly, as if she's been waiting forever to hear details when it comes to a certain boss. (to be fair, she has.) (more often than not, you've spared them the specifics just as much as aaron.)

a wickedness came forth in your eyes, your lips pulling into a smirk. your hand found the back of aaron's neck, your fingers brushing through the nape of his hair. "he left me one yesterday that said he'd like to-"

"okay." aaron interrupted, kissing the spot of skin behind your ear and halting your words. "sweetheart, if you continue, i'll never hear the end of it."

you complied, but just for a second. "he's just so cute." you cheesed, pinching his cheek gently. despite the fact you were very much inebriated, you were well aware enough to not actually hurt him. "he's all i want for christmas." after your statement, your smirk quickly resurfaced, your current no-filter flowing freely. "i've been a good girl, haven't i, aaron?"

another snort exited a wide-eyed derek, and you missed the others' very taken aback reaction as your gaze shifted to aaron, whose blush was prominent as ever.

"what?" you pouted softly, confusion arising on your face.

a mix between a sigh and a breathless laugh left aaron through his nose, affectionately patting your hip and transferring the santa hat onto your head, "i think that's enough eggnog for you tonight."

[choochooboss]

Submas Sketchdump Vol. 4 July 2022 Part 2!!

I knew that particular month beat my all time record for productivity multifold but I had forgotten SO MANY PIECES from the original collection!! I think I finally got them all?? More stuff under the cut!!

BREAKMAS!! WIP of the first piece I posted of them, here's the link to the final version! I tried coloring this first but the black & white had ultimately more impact so I went with that!

TRAINS!! I like this base color version too! Link to the final version!

The top sketch is a direct reference to Cluedo! A spinoff game, "Missingo", starring certain familiar characters trying to figure out what happened to Ingo/trying to prove their innocence in the case! Also WIP sketches for these two Breakmas comic pages!

As you may know I adore butlermas! For the classy and stylish look which appeals to me in general, and coincidentally I had played PLA & got hit by submas train only one week before butler Ingo's banner rolled out! The pure bliss of finally meeting both twins in a game I felt was incomparable!! This moment in the Curious Tea Party event was really entertaining to me! We got to see submas get serious and stand up against this selfish collector thief! Two towering train twinks with commanding voices looming over the unfortunate guy was enough to make him change his mind ahah! They truly are the protectors

1-hour submas challenge prompt "Descend"! This is the actual one hour result before I continued rendering this!

Mmmmm not my first attempt at drawing them hug and definitely not my best OR last. I want to make that moment something very special when I finally go all out on it!!

Comic cover vibing~

The scrapped last page for this silly comic! Sorry the dialogue is all over the place on the first piece, might be hard to read! I wasn't happy with how I presented Elesa, I wasn't familiar enough with her character back then so I thought of her carrying a toy taser to threat her friend even as a joke was too much and I couldn't come up with anything else for it. This held me back from posting the other three pages for another 5 months! In the last panel

I prefer to not mess up the twins too much but my brain is still very curious and conjures some peculiar stuff like this sometimes.. I think I may have broken his arms there looking at the anatomy, ooops! I hope you don't mind the photo quality or the two weird guys in the corner, they escaped containment!

Idea of warden Ingo, being projected to modern era by his Alakazam, walking through crowd on a train platform & Emmet standing inside a passing train. Their eyes meet for just a few seconds...

Pokemas Ingo practise!

Another WIP of a piece I posted! I started this piece like this but then later I decided to flip the whole thing.

YET another WIP of something I already posted! No idea why I went and mixed up his suits but I like this sketch! They rarely end up looking this clean haha

Sketch version of the self-defense practise piece! I love getting creative with action stuff! I barely ever think of how difficult they are to draw, I just get so excited and fixated on visualising the scenes in my mind I just keep at it, pull out refs and pose in front of mirrors until it looks good to me! I want to draw more action scenes but besides being challenging to draw my brain comes up with more silly and cute ideas than cool ones unfortunately ahah

One more WIP, here's the link to the final results!! I really like how genuine their expressions look here even if the faces are a little off. I recall spending a long time figuring out this perspective. I thought it would be fun to you to see how all these pieces started and... looking at the sketch above and the stuff before that, you can compare some range of my style!

RANDOM SUBMAS MISSILES GO

OHHH looks like some nasty passengers got the best of them!! If I recall correctly there was no fight because they managed to paralyse the two before they could act. Fully awake yet completely helpless... how convenient unfortunate. Thank you so much for checking these out!! Not every sketch is that exciting but I'm always happy to hear your thoughts on these!

Previous posts: Sketch dump Vol. 1: April-June 2022 Sketch dump Vol. 2: July 2022 Sketch dump Vol. 3: August 2022

[isak-dot-gov]

Bubblegum Pink

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Girly girl!Reader

Word count: 1137

My Matherlist :)

..................................................................................

You and Rhea had always been an odd pairing, but one that worked. Her brooding, gothic style was the complete opposite of your sunny, feminine aesthetic, but it never caused any problems between the two of you. In fact, you both liked the contrast. She loved how unapologetically girly you were, while you found her dark and edgy vibe pretty hot. 

But now, with the release of the new Barbie movie, your worlds were about to collide in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

It all started when you saw the trailer. You’d grown up with Barbie, and seeing your childhood icon brought to life on the big screen filled you with pure joy. Naturally, you couldn’t wait to see it. Even more so, you couldn’t wait to share the experience with Rhea.

One night over dinner, as you twirled your fork through your salad, you casually brought it up. “So, the Barbie movie comes out this weekend. Want to come with me?”

Rhea, who had been chewing on a piece of steak, glanced up at you with raised eyebrows. “Barbie?” she repeated, her tone filled with playful disbelief.

You nodded eagerly, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Yeah! It’s going to be so much fun. I was thinking we could, like, dress up a little for it? You know, something pink and Barbie-like. What do you think?”

Rhea leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a smirk. “Pink and Barbie-like, huh?” Her dark lipstick accentuated her teasing smile. “Babe, I don’t really do… pink. Or Barbie.”

You felt a pang of disappointment in your chest, but you didn’t let it show. You knew Rhea was right—dressing up in something so opposite of her usual style was a big ask. “I know, I know,” you laughed, trying to brush it off. “It’s okay, I was just being silly. You don’t have to. We can just go as ourselves.”

But deep down, you’d been hoping she might at least entertain the idea. Not because you wanted her to change, but because it would’ve been fun to share this experience together, dressing up and embracing the moment.

The rest of the week passed without much mention of the movie. You noticed Rhea hadn’t brought it up again, and you didn’t want to press her about it either. You told yourself it didn’t matter—after all, what was important was that she was coming with you, not what she wore. Still, a tiny part of you couldn’t shake the wish that she might try, just a little, to embrace your world the way you always embraced hers.

The day of the movie finally arrived, and you woke up early, excited to get ready. You’d been planning your outfit for days—a dreamy, pink flowy dress with cute accessories, glittery heels, and even a sparkly headband to tie it all together. As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you smiled at your reflection, feeling like you’d just stepped out of a Barbie dreamhouse.

But when you turned around to check your phone, your stomach twisted a little. Rhea hadn’t said anything yet, and you weren’t sure if she was going to dress up at all. Maybe you had been silly to even hope she would.

You tried not to let it get to you as you waited for her in the living room, adjusting your purse strap and fidgeting with your phone. When you finally heard her footsteps, you stood up, ready to go, but bracing yourself for her usual all-black attire.

As expected, Rhea came in wearing her typical style—black jeans, a black band tee, and combat boots. Her dark eyeliner and signature smirk were firmly in place. But something caught your eye, and you blinked, not sure if you were seeing things.

Pink socks.

They were subtle, barely peeking out from the tops of her boots, but they were there. Bright, unmistakable, bubblegum pink socks. You stared for a second, processing the sight, and then your heart swelled.

Rhea shifted on her feet, her smirk faltering just a little as she noticed your reaction. “Don’t say anything,” she grumbled, glancing away with a slight blush rising in her cheeks. “It’s just socks.”

You were speechless for a moment, but then a wide, beaming smile spread across your face. “Rhea…” you whispered, your voice soft with affection. “You didn’t have to do that.”

She shrugged, still trying to play it off. “I know, but I figured, you know, it’s important to you. And they’re just socks. Not like I’m wearing a pink dress or anything.”

Your chest tightened with emotion. It wasn’t about the socks—it was about the gesture. Rhea had seen how much this movie and dressing up meant to you, and while she didn’t go all out, she’d made an effort. She’d stepped out of her comfort zone for you, even if in a small way, and that meant everything.

You rushed forward and threw your arms around her, squeezing her tight. “Thank you,” you murmured against her chest, your eyes stinging with happy tears. “This means more than you know.”

Rhea wrapped her arms around you, chuckling softly as she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re lucky I love you,” she teased, though her voice was warm and tender.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at her with a playful grin. “I know I am.” You glanced down at her boots again, eyeing the pink socks with a twinkle in your eye. “And for the record, pink looks good on you.”

Rhea rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in her expression. “Don’t get used to it, alright?”

“Too late,” you teased back, leaning up to press a kiss to her cheek.

With her arm around your waist, the two of you headed out the door. As you walked hand in hand to the car, you couldn’t help but feel like this day was going to be even more special than you’d imagined. Rhea might not be covered head-to-toe in pink, but she’d met you halfway. She’d made the effort, and that was more than enough to make your heart burst with love.

As you drove to the theatre, Rhea glanced over at you, taking in how happy and radiant you looked. “Alright, so what’s this movie actually about? Are we gonna sit through two hours of Barbie just being… Barbie?”

You giggled. “Oh, you’ll see. There’s a lot more to Barbie than you think.”

Rhea smirked, giving your hand a squeeze as she rested her arm over the console. “As long as I get to see you happy, I’ll sit through whatever you want, babe.”

And just like that, with her pink socks slightly hidden under her boots, you knew you had the best girlfriend in the world by your side.

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[gilbertscurls]

Heyy can you do a matt x reader one where reader is filming a car video with the triplets and they told people to send in questions for her some one put” give me a chance y/n I’ll treat youill treat way better than Matt” replies with “hit me up yk my insta” Matt gets mad for rest of the video and when they arrive at their shared home with the trips they make up and cuddle

hope you like it!! <3

Hit Me Up ➵ Matt Sturniolo

The car was filled with its usual lively energy, the kind of banter that made the Sturniolo Triplets’ videos so entertaining. You were sitting in the backseat, right next to Nick, with Chris and Matt in the front. The camera propped up in the front caught everyone’s reactions, as usual. Today was special, though. They had asked their fans to send in questions for you.

As someone who had appeared on their channel here and there over the years, people were always curious about you—how you fit in with the triplets and, more specifically, about your relationship with Matt. Today’s video was meant to be light and fun, a chance for you to answer some of the silly and random questions their followers had sent in.

The laughter came easily as Chris read the first few questions, and you answered, giving playful responses while Nick threw in his sarcastic commentary. Everything was going fine, until Chris’s voice trailed off as he read one of the questions that had come in.

“Oh, okay, we’ve got a spicy one,” he said, holding back a laugh as his eyes darted from the screen to you and Matt. “‘Give me a chance, Y/N, I’ll treat you way better than Matt.’”

Your stomach dropped, and for a split second, the air in the car felt heavier. You could feel Matt tense in the front seat, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. The joking atmosphere shifted.

Instead of brushing it off, you felt a mischievous grin tug at your lips. You looked straight into the camera and, with a playful tone, replied, “Hit me up, you know my Insta.”

You could hear Nick and Chris laugh at your response, but Matt… Matt didn’t say anything. His jaw clenched ever so slightly, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. You could feel his mood darken from where you sat, and the lighthearted energy in the car shifted awkwardly as the conversation moved on.

The rest of the video felt different. Whenever someone tried to involve Matt in the conversation, he gave short, clipped answers, his usually playful tone replaced with something colder. You glanced at him through the rearview mirror a few times, but he avoided your gaze, his eyes glued to the road or the questions on his phone.

It wasn’t long before Nick noticed Matt’s shift in mood. “What’s with you, Matt? You good, bro?” Nick asked, eyeing him curiously.

“Yeah,” Matt muttered, his voice tight, “just tired.”

That was a lie. Everyone in the car knew it. You tried to shake off the sinking feeling in your chest as you realized he was actually mad about your joke, and though you wanted to say something, you knew this wasn’t the time or place. Not on camera.

The rest of the video dragged on, Matt growing more and more snappy with each passing minute. When it was finally over, Nick turned off the camera, and you all sat in silence for a moment before heading back home. The tension between you and Matt was palpable.

When you arrived at the house you shared with the triplets, Matt was out of the car as soon as it was parked, muttering something about going to his room. He didn’t wait for anyone, didn’t say a word to you. The door slammed behind him, leaving you standing there with Nick and Chris.

Nick gave you a look, his eyebrows raised. “What the hell was that about?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off even though your heart was sinking. “I think he’s mad about that question.”

Nick chuckled. “You’re kidding, right? It was obviously a joke.”

“Yeah, well, Matt’s being Matt,” Chris said, his voice a little softer. “Maybe you should go talk to him?”

You nodded, already dreading the conversation that was about to come. You made your way inside and up to Matt’s room. The door was closed, and you hesitated for a moment before knocking gently.

“What?” His voice was sharp, but you could tell he was trying to keep it in check.

You slowly opened the door, peeking inside. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor. His usual laid-back expression was replaced with a frown, his whole body tense.

“Can I come in?” you asked, your voice soft.

He didn’t look at you, but he gave a small nod. You stepped inside and closed the door behind you, walking over to sit beside him on the bed.

There was a beat of silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.

“You’re mad,” you finally said, though it wasn’t really a question.

Matt sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Of course I’m mad, Y/N. How am I supposed to feel when you joke about that?”

You frowned, the confusion and frustration starting to bubble up inside you. “It was a joke, Matt. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, well, it didn’t feel like one.” His voice was tight, the hurt seeping through despite his attempt to keep it at bay. “It’s not funny to hear someone say they’d treat you better than me, and then for you to play along with it? What was I supposed to think?”

You stared at him, your heart sinking further as you realized how deeply it had affected him. “Matt, I didn’t mean it. You know that I’d never actually—”

He cut you off, finally looking up at you, his eyes filled with frustration. “But you said it. You said, ‘Hit me up, you know my Insta,’ like… like it wouldn’t bother me at all. Do you have any idea how that made me feel? Like I’m not enough.”

His words hit you hard, guilt settling in as you realized how much your thoughtless comment had hurt him. You reached out, placing a hand on his knee. “I’m sorry, Matt. I didn’t think… I didn’t realize it would hurt you like that. It was stupid. I shouldn’t have said it.”

He let out a slow breath, his shoulders sagging as some of the tension left his body. “I just… I don’t like the idea of anyone thinking they could take you away from me.”

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in his voice, and you moved closer, wrapping your arms around him. He tensed for a moment before finally relaxing into your embrace, resting his head on your shoulder.

“No one could ever take me away from you,” you whispered, your voice soft and full of reassurance. “I’m with you because I want to be. I love you, Matt. You’re more than enough for me.”

He didn’t say anything at first, but you felt his arms slowly wrap around you, holding you close. The warmth of his body against yours made the tension in the room start to melt away, replaced by the comfort of being together.

“I love you too,” he mumbled, his voice quieter now, more gentle. “I’m sorry for snapping at you… I just— I don’t know, sometimes I get insecure.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him, brushing a hand through his hair. “You don’t need to be insecure. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Matt gave a small nod, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Okay.”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, and he closed his eyes, letting out a content sigh as he leaned into your touch. For a moment, you both just sat there, the weight of the argument fading away as you held each other.

“Come on,” you said after a while, your voice soft and teasing. “Let’s go lay down.”

Matt nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips as he followed you to the bed. You curled up together, his arms wrapped securely around you as you rested your head on his chest. The warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart beneath you was all the reassurance you needed.

“I’m really sorry,” you whispered again, tracing small patterns on his chest.

He kissed the top of your head, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. “It’s okay. I just… I love you so much. It freaks me out sometimes.”

You smiled against his chest, your heart swelling with affection for him. “I love you too, Matt. Always.”

And with that, the last remnants of the argument dissolved, replaced by the comforting quiet of being in each other’s arms. The world outside didn’t matter anymore — it was just you and Matt, together, as it had always been.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274

[seungcheorry]

"chan, you idiot!", seungkwan exclaimed, his hand itching to slap his youngest member. "how can you be so clueless all the time?"

and, once again, chan had that look on his face, as if he didn't know shit - and to be honest, he didn't.

"what did i do this time?"

"they aren't saying they are bored because they think you're not interestant or annoying", seungkwan rolled his eyes. "although you are very much annoying."

chan sighed, covering his eyes with his hand. of course he wouldn't get out of that conversation without being insulted at least once, even though he know his hyung didn't actually mean it.

he went to his hyungs, sharing this one thing that has been bothering him; you.

oh, don't get me wrong, chan liked you so much. he felt attracted to you the moment he laid eyes on you, and was over the moon when he found out you also liked him. however, everytime the two of you hang out, you always look a bit... annoyed. bored. disappointed. like you were expecting something else.

"then what? what should i do to entertain them?"

"chan-ah, don't be silly", seungcheol laughed when jeonghan stopped seungkwan from getting up to hit chan. "they look like that because they want you to act on your feelings."

"act on my feelings?", there surely was lots of '???' over chan's head.

"oh my god...", seungkwan groaned.

"you like them, they like you. they're expecting you do do something about that", a calm seungcheol explained, shrugging.

and those words stayed with chan for the whole time he was away from you, counting the days to see you again and try to test his hyung's theory.

so now he's sitting right beside you on his couch. your head is resting on a cushion, once again a bored expression on your face as you don't pay much attenttion to the movie that is playing on his tv. chan takes a look at you from the corner of his eye, mirroring your expression and sighing a little too loud; but it's okay, it's all part of his plan.

"what?", you ask him.

"um, nothing...", he let his body melt on the couch, to look even more bored. "this movie is shitty."

"it is, i stopped watching like ten minutes ago."

with a sigh too, you sit up straight to look around the room. chan is watching your every move, getting ready to say his next words out loud.

"yeah, i feel you. i'm really bored right now."

"hm, me too..."

and it's comical, actually, how you turn to look at chan and how his eyes slightly shine when the two of you say together:

"wanna kiss?"

there it is. chan smiles, not only because his plan has half worked (and definitely not because his hyungs were right), but because you thought the same thing he did, and maybe you too were just waiting for him to be as bored as you to act on your wishes.

"thought you would never ask", you chuckle, already throwing yourself at chan, smacking your lips against his.

he welcomes you with passion, holding your waist and helping your adjust beside him while his lips works wonderful on yours, parting them just enough so he can slip his tongue into your mouth.

it's great, and it makes chan's chest burn with that feeling he hasn't felt in so long - he really likes you; he's just on the edge to actually fall in love with you.

and god, he hopes you're right beside him on that edge too.

a/n: inspired by this moment right here.

[crystallinestars]

NSFW Alphabet - Moze

I didn't expect to like Moze so much, but his backstory and gameplay got me, so here I am. Hope Moze lovers enjoy these silly headcanons of mine. Despite his serious demeanor, I'm a strong believer that Moze gets flustered when faced with sexual situations. Also, in case someone is not aware, girth is circumference not diameter.

Moze x Fem!Reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Moze feels awkward about what to do after sex because he’s not used to being affectionate. You’ll have to guide him on how to proceed, such as pulling him into a cuddle or engaging in pillow talk (though he’ll be mostly silent).

Due to his love for cleanliness, as soon as you’re able to stand, Moze ushers you into the shower. If you convince him to bathe together, Moze will join you in the tub and help lather your body until you’re squeaky clean. If you offer to wash him in return, Moze will say that he can wash himself, but he won’t stop you if you do it anyway. He grows flustered if you wash him because he’s not used to being cared for in such a manner, but he secretly enjoys the attention.

After a bath, Moze always changes the bedsheets if you did it on the bed. If you did it on other surfaces, he cleans up whatever mess you two made.

If he sees any bruising on your skin or if you complain about feeling sore, Moze will bring you to Jiaoqiu for treatment. The assassin is not used to physical intimacy, so he worries he might have hurt you, and will feel guilty about it until told it’s nothing serious.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself, Moze likes very little. He was seldom shown affection as a child, so he never quite learned to love himself. Whatever body part of his you shower in praise is one he will grow to think slightly better of. You think he’s got a handsome face? Your words will float into his mind every time he looks in a mirror, and a little warm spark ignites in his heart when he remembers you like how he looks. You like his muscles? He’ll try a little harder and train for a little longer to keep himself in shape. You like his hair? He’ll keep that haircut forever. Your praise means a lot to him even if he doesn’t outwardly show it.

On you, he loves everything. Moze is generally not picky about physical appearance of his partners. Every part of you looks pretty to him because he loves all of you. Though if you held him at gunpoint and forced him to confess, Moze would reluctantly admit that he loves the shape of your legs. He likes admiring them when you wear shorts or short skirts, and seeing you in thigh-highs makes him weak.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His cum has a mild salty flavor and is a bit thick.

Moze prefers to use a condom to avoid making a mess and generally avoids pouring his seed on your face or other body parts, though if you’re really into being covered in his cum, he’ll entertain you. He makes sure you’re properly cleaned up afterwards.

As for your slick, Moze doesn’t mind getting it on himself since it’s yours. He’ll let himself get as dirty as necessary if it means making you feel good.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Before you became a couple, there was a time when Moze walked into your room to ask for an important document. Unfortunately for him, you were in the shower at the time so he was left to search for it on his own.

However, the bathroom door opened before he could find it, and you walked out wrapped in a towel. Out of instinct, Moze quickly turned invisible and slinked off to an inconspicuous corner of the room, heart pounding quickly in his chest. He didn’t know why he felt the need to hide because it’s not like he was doing something nefarious in your room, but a part of him worried you would get the wrong impression if you saw him there, and he really didn’t want you to think badly of him.

The assassin didn’t look in your direction while you waltzed around the room, gathering a change of clothes but his face was flushed scarlet simply from knowing what you were doing. He respected your privacy and remained looking at the wall, not wanting to stare at you like some kind of pervert while praying you wouldn’t discover him. Thankfully, you remained unaware of his presence up until you left the room, and Moze used the first opportunity he could to escape.

He tried really hard to put the event out of his memory because it was a huge source of embarrassment for him and will never admit it happened (unless you somehow find out and press him, to which he will confess to everything while dying inside).

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Moze has no experience whatsoever. Absolutely none. The man hasn’t even kissed anyone before. He’s got a general idea of how sex works, but up until getting together with you, he used to view it in a very scientific way. In his mind, it was just a process that led to the creation of children instead of something that a couple could do purely for the sake of fun and pleasure.

He didn’t even imagine having sex with someone one day, so when the possibility of being that intimate with you surfaced, Moze was at a loss. The first time you have sex might be a bit awkward and full of little hiccups because he isn’t too sure about what to do. He knows the general process, but it’s the details and intimacy that he struggles with.

After your first time, Moze does research on bedroom skills so he can improve for next time and pays rapt attention to any directions you give him. He’s invested in making the experience a good one for you and becomes intimately familiar with all the ways you like being pleased.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Moze enjoys sex against the wall. Pinning you against the wall with his body with one of your legs hooked around his waist is usually his go-to position, though he also enjoys lifting you by the hips so you can wrap both legs around him. He’s strong enough to support your weight for the entire duration of the lovemaking.

Despite his shyness at showing his face to you during coupling, Moze really likes positions where he can easily see your face. Cowgirl and missionary are some of his favorites for this reason. He likes seeing your face because it makes sex more intimate for him, plus it helps him gauge how good he’s making you feel. He also does variations of missionary, such as hiking one or both of your legs onto his shoulders or pressing your knees to your chest for a deeper penetration.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Despite his serious demeanor, Moze is unintentionally goofy. He might recite a sex fact or a lame joke he read online with the most serious tone of voice and expression all while trying to please you and ruin the mood. He means well, but some of the things he says are so unexpected that they can be unintentionally funny (or cringy).

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He clean shaves to keep that area orderly. If he did keep hair, then it would be regularly trimmed short and the same shade of gray as his hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Due to his upbringing, Moze never learned how to be open with his feelings or how to accept love and care, so he struggles with this in his life. Sex is no different.

Being expressive and affectionate is foreign to him because he learned to restrain his emotions, so he doesn’t shower you with odes of love and flowery compliments. He expresses his love for you in a different way. It manifests in eye contact during sex, pressing his body closer to yours until you’re practically flush together, holding your hand, and leaving a simple but lingering kiss on your lips after the act. Once he learns to open up more, Moze incorporates long and deep kisses into your lovemaking and holds you tighter to him, as if he is a man starved for you.

Even without the physical cues, the fact you are allowed to see him at his most vulnerable speaks volumes to how much he trusts and loves you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

If he needs to de-stress, Moze usually cleans to clear his mind, but on rare occasions, he masturbates to relieve tension. He feels a bit dirty afterwards, especially due to how messy masturbating can be, so he doesn’t do it often. However, after he fell in love with you, he was embarrassed to discover his thoughts strayed to you when he masturbated. It was never anything too lewd, mostly images of how flattering your body looked in that nice top you once wore, or the way your pants hugged your legs, or imagining it was your hand instead of his pumping along his hardness. Moze is usually good at being very quiet when masturbating, but when his thoughts stray to you, he lets out breathy gasps and even a moan when he climaxes.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Moze is pretty vanilla. Even if he had a wealth of sexual experience, his kinks would still be tame. He likes your legs, so anything that highlights their shape would appeal to him. Short skirts, shorts, and thigh-highs are just some of the things he likes seeing you in. He’s also a fan of seeing you dress up in flattering lingerie. It doesn’t even have to be sexy, just something cute that flatters your figure will have him thinking you’re beautiful and make him eager to feel your body.

Adding on his love for your legs, Moze is into thigh sex. If you’re okay with it, he would like to bury his cock between the flesh of your thighs. The squeeze of your soft thighs around him is both an erotic sight and sensation for him.

Moze also enjoys cosplay. He likes it when you wear something both sexy and cute, like a maid outfit or cat ears. He thinks you look tantalizing dressed up like that. If you ask, he’s willing to dress up for you as well. Stuff like formal/business wear, butler suits, glasses, a doctor coat, etc… are alright with him, though more provocative outfits like bunny suits would be too embarrassing for him to wear. Don’t ask Moze to roleplay, though. He’s not good at it.

Other kinks he’s into are body worship and praise. Once he grows comfortable with sex, Moze worships your body with his hands and lips, kissing and caressing every part of you because he genuinely appreciates your figure and the fact he’s lucky enough to call you his. Receiving the same affection on his own body will make him feel conflicted at first. As mentioned previously, Moze was deprived of love and affection when he was young, so receiving it feels foreign to him. If you take it slow and ease him into the experience, he will let you pamper his body and find a strange sense of enjoyment from it. If you combine your reverent touches with some praise, he will be deeply touched (more on this in Wild Card).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Strictly at home. Moze doesn’t feel comfortable having sex anywhere else. In terms of locations in the house, he’s fine with almost anywhere, though he does favor the bathtub and bed.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Moze is a simple man. If he sees you in revealing clothing or things like swimsuits/lingerie, he grows flustered and pops a boner. Teasing or directly expressing your interest in having sex with him is another thing that easily gets Moze going. Feeling desired by you in an instant turn-on for him.

One other thing that gets him going is seeing you pleasure yourself. Whether he stumbles upon you by accident, or you purposely play with yourself to seduce him, Moze won’t be able to resist such an erotic sight. He’ll want to join in and help you get off, but only if you allow him. Seeing you feel good makes him feel good in turn.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Sharing is a no-no. You’re very special to Moze, and he hopes he’s equally as special to you as you are to him, so having sex with a third party ruins the illusion of your special relationship. Plus, he doesn’t want anyone other than you to see him in such a vulnerable state. He also doesn’t like the idea of sex in public places because he’s a very private person by nature.

Losing control over his body scares him, so Moze dislikes things like bondage and blindfolding. He’ll entertain you if you want that done to you, but he’s not comfortable with having it done to him. He also finds watersports gross.

Moze also refuses to get rough with or degrade you. He doesn’t want to hurt you and won’t find it enjoyable to do so. Another thing he doesn’t do is roleplay, but it’s less because he dislikes it and more because he sucks at it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

The first time you gave Moze a blowjob, he was caught by surprise due to how good it felt. His knees felt weak, and he had to fight to reign in his desire to orgasm right then and there. It was probably one of the few times when you heard him let out a loud, strangled moan and saw his reserved expression crumble into a pleasured one. The sensation of having his dick sucked for the first time was new and intense, which is why it had such a strong impact on him. Moze comes to love receiving blowjobs even though he’s too awkward to openly ask for them. There’s something erotic about watching you work your mouth over him, though he tends to avert his gaze out of fear of cumming too quickly from the sight.

When it comes to eating you out, Moze may lack experience, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm. He desires to make you feel good, so he gives it his all in learning all the spots that drive you wild. He pays rapt attention to your guidance in how you like to be eaten out and relies on your feedback and moans to tell him which pressure and speed you enjoy most. Moze quickly memorizes how you best like to feel his tongue in your pussy, which speed and pressure of flicks you enjoy against your clit, and the suction which makes you moan loudest.

If you squirm a lot due to his ministrations, Moze will pin your hips down, so you won’t interfere with his task. He won’t stop until he makes you orgasm, though if you tug at his hair and say it’s too much for you, he’ll stop. When he eats you out, your sounds and reactions can cause Moze to pop a boner and unconsciously grinds his hardness against the mattress.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

His go-to pace is slow, especially when he first starts having sex. Since everything is so new to him, Moze wants to take it slow so he can get used to the act of sex and learn what you’re both comfortable with. If you’re comfortable with a moderate or even fast pace, Moze can adjust and go faster to meet your needs.

Whether he wants it fast or slow depends on his mood. If he’s horny, he’ll want to go faster to chase after his release, but if the mood between you is intimate and sensual, he’ll opt for slower thrusts. At the end of the day, he will always go at the pace you want instead of what he wants because his goal is to make you happy.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Moze can go for quickies. If either of you get horny but there’s not enough time for a proper session of sex, then he is willing to indulge in oral sex, thigh jobs, or a quick fuck to satisfy the lustful cravings. He loves the emotional intimacy that comes with your regular lovemaking, so he does prefer longer sessions.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Moze is highly cautious by nature, so he is reluctant to take serious risks like exhibitionism or doing things that could result in injury. However, due to his inexperience, he’s also open to trying new things, especially if they’re something you’re interested in. He’s willing to try most things at least once as long as they don’t endanger either of you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Moze trains a lot, so his stamina is quite high. He can last for a long time, outlasting you by a long shot, but he stops if he senses you’re tired. He can easily last for 3 rounds, but rarely goes for more than that since you can’t keep up with his stamina.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Moze doesn’t own any toys. He’s embarrassed by the thought of using one and thinks they’re not necessary for him to feel good.

If there are toys you like using on yourself, Moze will learn how they work and will incorporate them into your sessions. As long as it makes you feel good, he’s willing to do almost anything to indulge you.

If you want to use sex toys on him, Moze will be hesitant and wary at first, but with some coaxing, you can convince him to give them a try. Moze prefers to keep things simple, so BDSM gear and whips are not toys he enjoys, though he ends up enjoying vibrators more than he thought he would. Still, sex toys are not really his thing, and he prefers to have sex without them (unless you’re super into them).

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Moze is straightforward by nature, so he doesn’t tease you in the bedroom. Edging isn’t something he considers because his mission is to make you feel good and bring you to orgasm, and that’s exactly what he sets out to do. He’s also terrible at dirty talk and verbal teasing (he doesn’t know what to say, or if he does say something, it sounds cringe), though he might make an amused remark if he sees you’re very eager for him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Having lived most of his life mastering the skills of being imperceptible, Moze became skilled at keeping his voice and breathing very quiet. The most you hear from him during sex are ragged breaths, muffled moans, and questions if you’re feeling good. With some encouragement, he can be convinced to let his voice out more, but it feels more natural for him to suppress his noises. If you can get Moze to lower his guard and just enjoy the moment, he might let out low moans. They’ll still be quiet, but at least more audible.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

The first time you had sex, Moze almost cried. Ever since he could remember, he was deprived of love and affection. Being orphaned and then tortured and treated like a tool by his “family” at the Sanctus Medicus had taught him to suppress his needs and emotions. When Feixiao rescued him and gave him a second chance at life, he grew used to being called a weirdo and feared by people.

But here you were, touching him so tenderly as if he were something precious instead of a terrifying tool of murder. You marveled at his physique in a way nobody ever had before and whispered how handsome he looked despite all the scars. You kissed his skin so softly, seeking out with your lips and hands all the spots on his body that sent jolts of pleasure through him.

Moze had never been treated with such gentleness and care before, and the attention overwhelmed him. The tender touches and sweet compliments felt foreign yet so good, and when you said you loved him, his eyes involuntarily teared up, though he suppressed the urge to cry. Your affection touched him deeply, and it was scary how vulnerable you made him feel, so Moze asked you to stop.

However, afterward, he caught himself wanting to be touched and praised like that again. It had felt scary at first, but a part of him craved to feel that loved and cherished again. In the subsequent times when you worshipped his body, little by little, Moze learned to relax and enjoy being pampered. It still overwhelms him sometimes, and the vulnerability makes him uneasy, but he also trusts and loves you, so he feels safe exploring this part of himself with you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

13cm (5.1 inch) in length and 9.5cm (3.7 inch) in girth.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Prior to getting with you, Moze’s sex drive was low. Once you became a couple, Moze’s drive rose, so he now craves sexual intimacy about 2 times a week. He can go for more frequent sessions if your sex drive is higher than his because he’s just that eager to please you. His self-control is high, so if you’re not able to have sex for whatever reason, he can easily suppress his urges.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It’s rare for Moze to immediately fall asleep after sex. Usually, he waits until you fall asleep first before allowing himself to rest. There are also times when he has to leave for business reasons, so he doesn’t have the luxury to sleep or relax.

For the first while, Moze will be uncertain and hesitant about cuddling and hugging, so you will have to initiate if it’s something you want. Once he gets used to it, he will drape an arm around you and pull you close to his side or spoon you from behind. He’s a light sleeper and tends to stay in one position throughout the night, so if you move in your sleep, he’ll instantly wake up.

Moze enjoys it when you hug him and rest your head on his chest or shoulder and fall asleep in that position. He finds it comforting to be held by you, and think you look cute cuddling him like that.

[rmadridcore]

Jealous Streak

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Reader

Summary: After Kylian gets mad over a silly misunderstanding, things quickly heat up between you two, turning his anger into something much more intimate.

Word Count: 2.9K

Warning: Smut! (Minors DNI)

Author’s note: I’m back to writing about Kylian! Recent events surrounding him had been so messy that I couldn’t find any inspiration to write for him anymore, but a new idea arose so here it is! I have a few requests waiting and I’ll get through them as fast as I can & now I will be taking requests about Kylian as well 🫂 hope you enjoy this one! Let me know what you think 🩷

Water droplets clung to your flushed skin as you wrapped yourself in a fluffy white towel, stepping out of the steamy shower cabin. You grabbed another towel, running it through your damp hair before swiping a hand across the fogged-up bathroom mirror. The haze cleared just enough for you to see your reflection as you applied a few drops of face oil, the soothing sensation adding to the relaxation you desperately needed. The tension from the day melted away, your muscles loose and your mind clearer after the long, steamy escape.

With the towel securely wrapped around your body and droplets still trailing down your warm skin, you padded into the shared bedroom of you and Kylian. He was sprawled on the bed, one arm tucked behind his head, absently playing with the TV remote. A random documentary played on the screen, but from the way his eyes glazed over, it was obvious he wasn’t paying attention.

You glanced at him, noticing his lack of acknowledgment as you entered. It wasn’t that he didn’t see you — oh, he noticed. Kylian was angry, his mood as sour as unripe lemons.

You sighed, your annoyance bubbling to the surface. The root of his irritation wasn’t entirely unexpected. The night before, you’d gone to a friend’s birthday party, solo, since Kylian was away for an away game. You had bumped into your ex boyfriend there, exchanged a polite but fleeting conversation, and thought nothing of it. To you, the interaction was so insignificant that it didn’t even cross your mind to mention it when you spoke to Kylian later that night.

But Kylian, ever the hawk-eyed protector, had seen pictures of the party while on the plane home, one of which captured your brief exchange with your ex. He’d flipped. Your reassurances, how brief the interaction was, how little it mattered, didn’t help. He wasn’t just mad that your ex had been there; he was mad that you hadn’t told him about it.

When Kylian arrived home a few hours ago, you’d expected him to have cooled off. You were wrong. If anything, he was more wound up than before, his brooding silence a testament to his irritation. After his passive aggressive digs began to test your patience, you decided to take a shower to escape his sulking. But now, as you stood in front of the vanity applying leave-in conditioner to your damp hair, you couldn’t ignore his childish behavior any longer.

“Am I getting the silent treatment now?” you asked, your tone sharper than you intended.

Kylian sighed, his gaze fixed on the TV. “I’m not in the mood to talk, that’s all.”

“You’re being ridiculous, you know that?” You set the bottle of conditioner down with a frustrated thud.

He didn’t respond, his jaw tightening as his eyes stayed glued to the screen.

The double standard wasn’t lost on you. Whenever you got jealous, Kylian would laugh it off, his reassurances wrapped in humor and affection. To him, the idea of you doubting his loyalty or devotion was absurd; he loved you too much to entertain thoughts of anyone else. But when the tables turned, when he was the one feeling the pangs of jealousy, it was a completely different story.

He wasn’t unreasonable — he trusted you implicitly. He knew, without a shred of doubt, that your love and loyalty were his alone. But that didn’t stop the irrational surge of irritation when someone else tried to insert themselves into your space, even momentarily. Jealousy wasn’t about mistrust; it was about his protectiveness, his possessiveness, his inability to tolerate the idea of anyone else claiming even a fraction of your attention.

And now, here he was, stewing in his emotions, dragging both of you into his mood. It was petty, it was unnecessary, and it was maddening.

You perched on the edge of the bed, your gaze fixed on Kylian, who still stubbornly refused to look at you. Frustrated yet determined, you reached out and placed a hand on his leg, giving him a light shake.

“Come on now, I deserve forgiveness, don’t I?” you said, your voice dripping with playful sarcasm. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes internally at how much of a fuss he was making over something so trivial.

Kylian didn’t respond, his jaw clenching slightly, but his eyes betrayed him. They flickered downward as your towel shifted, slipping just enough to reveal a teasing glimpse of your cleavage. His gaze lingered, involuntarily captivated, before he snapped himself out of it, tearing his eyes away and gluing them back to the television.

You smirked knowingly. That was it — his resolve was cracking. He was on the verge of giving in, and you weren’t about to let the opportunity slip away.

“You’re really not going to talk to me?” you teased, your hand sliding up his thigh, your fingers brushing against the sensitive spot that you knew made his breath hitch.

His reaction was instant, his breathing faltered, and his eyes darted down to your hand resting on his leg. But like the stubborn man he was, Kylian quickly averted his gaze back to the screen. “I’m watching something,” he muttered, the words unconvincing even to himself.

You arched a brow, suppressing a laugh. “Oh, really?” you challenged softly, leaning in closer. You were sure he couldn’t even name what the documentary was about if his life depended on it.

Tightening the towel securely around your body, you moved to lie down beside him, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight. Your proximity was deliberate, your movements calculated. You knew Kylian better than anyone, and you could tell he was fighting a losing battle.

You scooted closer until your body was practically flush against his, your hand sliding up to cradle his jaw. You placed a featherlight kiss on his cheek, your nose brushing against his skin as you inhaled his intoxicating scent.

He didn’t protest — in fact, you could feel him relax slightly under your touch, though his gaze stubbornly remained on the screen.

“Still mad at me?” you murmured, your lips trailing kisses along the curve of his cheek, each one softer and more deliberate than the last.

“A little,” he admitted, the corners of his mouth twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. You were close now, victory was within reach.

“How do I make you forgive me?” you asked, your voice dropping into a sultry whisper as your lips moved down to his neck. His breath hitched again, and this time, he didn’t even pretend to resist. Tilting his head to the side, he silently invited you to explore, giving you access to his smooth, warm skin.

You didn’t waste the opportunity, pressing open-mouthed kisses against his neck, slow and tantalizing, just the way you knew he liked them. Each kiss lingered, your tongue flicking lightly against his skin, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

“You’ll have to figure that out,” he said, his voice lower now, a teasing edge lacing his tone. His hand moved to tug at your towel, but you swatted it away, stopping him just before he could succeed.

“Not so fast,” you scolded with a playful smirk, pushing his hand aside. You locked eyes with him, your gaze commanding. “Turn the TV off.”

He hesitated for only a moment before obeying without question, reaching over to grab the remote and switching off the screen. The room plunged into a comfortable silence, save for the sound of your kisses as you resumed your exploration of his neck. His skin was already beginning to show the faint marks of your affection, love bites blooming wherever your lips touched.

This battle of wills wasn’t one Kylian was going to win, not tonight.

Your hand slid down his chest deliberately, your fingers gliding over the sculpted ridges of his torso. Even through the fabric of his shirt, you could feel the tautness of his abs. Slowly, you slipped your hand beneath the hem of his shirt, letting your palm rest against the firm, warm skin of his stomach.

Your lips moved purposefully from his neck to his ear, where you knew he was most sensitive. As your mouth lingered near his ear, you took your time, savoring the quiet anticipation that built with every second. His breathing grew heavier, a restrained whine rumbling in the back of his throat.

Your lips closed around his earlobe, sucking gently before nipping at it with your teeth. At the same time, your hand ventured lower, cupping and massaging him through his shorts. The moment your touch landed there, Kylian let out a shaky whimper, his body betraying him despite his effort to hold back.

“Fuck, Kylian…” you murmured, your breath hot against his ear, your voice thick with desire. “You’re hard.”

He was, impossibly so. It always amazed you how little effort it took to get him this worked up. But Kylian never felt embarrassed by it; in fact, he encouraged you to embrace the power you had over him, and you did just that.

Teasingly, you paused, removing your hand from his bulge to toy with the waistband of his shorts. Your fingertips skimmed the edge, dipping just slightly inside before retreating, a deliberate game meant to drive him wild. At the same time, your lips stopped their exploration, hovering near his ear but offering no further relief.

Kylian exhaled a frustrated sigh, the tension in his body practically vibrating beneath you. “Y/N,” he said, his tone firm but undercut by an unmistakable desperation.

“What do you want, Kylian? Tell me,” you teased, your voice dripping with sultry confidence. Your hand hovered halfway inside his waistband, motionless, as you gazed down at him. His dark eyes locked onto yours, burning with need, though his jaw clenched with resistance.

“I—” he started, but the words faltered, his head falling back against the pillow as he struggled with his pride.

You leaned down, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you whispered, “Use your words, baby.” Your mouth found the spot behind his ear again, kissing it softly before dragging your tongue across his heated skin. The reaction was instant — his chest rose sharply as he let out a ragged sigh.

“Touch me,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. His head tilted again, baring his neck to you as though surrendering completely.

You pulled back slightly, feigning a look of surprise. “That’s it?” you teased, raising a brow.

When he didn’t respond right away, you began to withdraw your hand, a silent punishment for his hesitation. That’s when he broke.

“Please, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice raw with desperation. “Please touch me. Please.”

A wave of satisfaction washed over you at his shameless begging. “Since you’ve asked so nicely…” you said with a wicked smile, sliding your hand fully into his shorts. Your fingers wrapped around his throbbing cock, pulling it free from the confines of his underwear. You gave him a few firm, deliberate strokes, feeling his length twitch in your grip.

Kylian’s head fell back, a deep groan escaping his lips as his body melted under your touch. You worked him slowly at first, savoring every reaction — the way his breathing turned ragged, the way his hips twitched upward, seeking more.

Just as the tension in him began to crest, you pulled your hand away, leaving him gasping in frustration. “Y/N,” he whined, his brows furrowing in protest, but he didn’t move, his body too overwhelmed to resist.

You silenced him with a knowing smirk, spitting into your palm before wrapping your hand around his cock again. This time, your strokes were slick and smooth, your grip firmer as you tugged his foreskin up and down his shaft. Your hand moved with precision, knowing exactly how to unravel him.

Your head remained buried in his neck, your lips grazing and sucking at his skin, leaving marks that would linger long after. You didn’t need to look at what you were doing, your familiarity with his body was second nature by now.

Kylian was a mess beneath you, his body trembling with pleasure. His head lolled back, his mouth open as soft, breathy moans spilled from his lips. His voice was broken, whimpering your name between gasps, and it only fueled your determination to drive him further over the edge.

As your hand worked its magic on him, Kylian’s body tensed beneath you, his stomach muscles clenching involuntarily. His moans grew louder, more guttural, a clear sign that he was nearing his breaking point. You smirked against his neck, relishing the power you held over him. When his hips started to buck upward, chasing the orgasm building within him, you abruptly pulled away, leaving him on the edge and visibly desperate.

“Y/N—” he started, his voice hoarse with frustration. The heaviness in his balls was unmistakable, and his cock twitched in protest, aching for release.

You silenced him with a searing kiss, your tongue slipping past his lips and tangling with his. As the kiss deepened, you reached up and tugged at the knot of your towel, letting it fall away and tossing it across the room. The cool air kissed your bare skin, but the heat radiating from Kylian was all you felt.

In one smooth motion, you broke the kiss just long enough to tug his shirt off over his head, discarding it in the same direction as your towel. Your hands explored the expanse of his broad chest, feeling the firmness of his pecs and the rapid rise and fall of his breath. Straddling him, you felt his hands instinctively grip your hips, his touch possessive and eager.

Without breaking eye contact, you reached down, guiding his throbbing cock to your dripping entrance. Slowly, you sank down onto him, his length stretching you perfectly. Kylian’s head fell back against the pillows, a loud, guttural moan tearing from his lips as he filled you completely.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, his face twisting in pleasure.

Your hands splayed across his chest for balance as you began to move your hips, rolling them slowly to savor the sensation of him deep inside you. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin with an intensity that promised bruises. You welcomed the pressure, the reminder of how much he needed you.

“Feel so good, baby. So fucking good,” he cried out, his voice raw and unrestrained.

You couldn’t help but moan in response, the way he stretched you out and filled you making you feel like you were made for him. Every inch of his cock hit you just right, brushing against that perfect spot that sent shocks of pleasure coursing through your body.

Picking up the pace, you began to bounce on his shaft, your movements growing faster and more frantic. Kylian met your rhythm with thrusts of his own, his hips driving upward to match your descent. You were technically on top, but Kylian’s firm grip on your hips dictated the pace, his control subtle yet undeniable.

“Kylian,” you cried out, throwing your head back as waves of pleasure consumed you.

He raised his head slightly, his eyes dropping to where your bodies were joined. The sight of his cock disappearing into you over and over again made him groan deeply, his hand leaving your hip to find your clit. His fingers worked slow, deliberate circles, the pressure just enough to make your thighs tremble.

He knew your body like no one else, he could find your sweet spot even if he was blindfolded, underwater, and upside down.

“Merde, mon amour. Tu te sens incroyable,” he rasped, his words dripping with pleasure. His breaths were heavy, his moans frequent and raw as he fought to keep himself together.

Your legs began to tremble, the strain of riding him taking its toll. You gripped his shoulders tightly, using them for support as your pace faltered slightly. Kylian, ever in tune with you, took the lead, bucking his hips upward harder and faster.

“Kylian, I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as the tension inside you reached its peak.

“Come for me, angel,” he urged, his voice soft yet commanding. His hand on your clit didn’t relent, his movements calculated to push you over the edge.

You cupped his face with one hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. His dark eyes burned into yours, the intensity between you electric. The connection sent you hurtling into your climax, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

Your moans mixed with his as Kylian’s hips stuttered, his release following closely behind yours. You felt him twitch inside you as he spilled his load deep within, the sensation prolonging your high. His head fell back against the pillow, his chest heaving as he rode out the last of his orgasm.

The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, the air thick with heat and the scent of sex. Kylian’s hands moved from your hips to gently caress your thighs, his touch soothing where it had once been demanding.

You leaned down, your lips brushing against his as you asked playfully, “So, am I forgiven?”

He chuckled, his chest vibrating against yours as he pulled you closer. “I’ll let you know after round two,” he teased, capturing your lips in a deep, messy kiss.

You laughed softly, your forehead resting against his as the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you tangled together in the aftermath of your love.

[tojivu]

one bed + morning after ⋆ genshin men

an. clearijg up drafts (that i like), expect more soon

cw. genshin men & one bed trope, includes zhongli diluc childe thoma. f!reader implied. sfw.

playing. nothing revealed / everything denied by the 1975

DILUC’s face is almost as red as his hair. he hoped to get this trip over and done with; considering how the friend group had just dragged him on this adventure when he had better things to do. however, he found the silver lining he didn’t expect; you.

he had always found you attractive, sometimes stealing glances at you when you’re talking to his friends or secretly hoping you would ask him to hang out (without your annoying friends tagging along, as they had always done)—so when he finds out he’s stuck with you for the night, he has mixed feelings. he sticks himself to the wall, feeling too awkward to even sit down, and you’re combing your hair in the mirror.

“i’m gonna go to bed soon. you gonna stand there all night, luc?”

god, the way you said his name. “no, i’ll be on the couch.”

“don’t be silly.” you put the comb down and turn off the bathroom lights, then getting on the bed to make yourself comfortable. you pat the empty space next to you to signal that it’s okay, that he could sleep next to you if he wanted. “don’t be scared. it’s not that big of a deal.”

of course it wasn’t, to you.

diluc reluctantly gets on the bed, and he’s as stiff as a wood plank. you turn and look at him, on your side, and he fights his urge to look back at you; he knows he’ll just make a fool of himself. “goodnight, luc.”

you expected diluc to be sleeping, facing the ceiling—as if he didn’t move from the night before. but your eyes flutter open and you see diluc facing you, his face only inches away; sleeping peacefully. the sunlight is seeping in through the curtain gaps, and the air is cold.

diluc wakes and he doesn’t jump in surprise, instead he opens his eyes and stares lazily at you—as if you were a sight he saw every morning; natural, like you were meant to be there with him. his morning voice is rough as he speaks, “good morning, y/n.”

your heart is merciless that morning, diluc swore he could hear your heartbeat pounding.

CHILDE doesn’t realise how troublesome it is to have such a tiny bed to two people. he had always slept alone, in a queen, his sleeping positions almost always bizarre as he had space to spare. your friend group didn’t think to consider whether making him sleep in a small hotel room with only one bed would trouble him— but as soon as he was told that he was sharing a room with you, his face lit up. childe didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, though, but it would be a lie if he said he didn’t want to be stuck with you for a whole 8 hours.

“did you hear?” he leans against the counter at the reception desk, on one arm, looking at you with a smirk on his face. you’re guessing what it could be—what prank he’d be pulling on you this time.

“we’re sharing a room?” you guess, voice monotone and bored; it was 12 in the morning and all you wanted to do was sleep—entertaining childe’s nonsense was not going to be a part of your nightly routine. you expect a big “no!” from him, but he keeps quiet instead.

after a few seconds of awkward silence, he reaches for the keycard in your hand and grabs hold of it. “i guess i’ll unpack first, then.”

there wasn’t any point in fighting the receptionist for your own room, since she told you they were packed for the week and reservations had already been made.

you’re on the far end of the bed while childe is comfortable. the pillows smell like his shampoo. you can’t sleep, and he notices that. childe snickers at how you’re trying so hard not to fall off the bed.

“c’mere.” he offers, “there’s space.”

“there isn’t.”

“trust me, i don’t like this either.” what a liar, he thought to himself.

you reluctantly shift closer to him, yet thankful he offered—you were close to moving anyway. “this is so stupid.”

when you wake, you find yourself facing the wall—childe’s arms are wrapped around your waist, his chest pressing against your back. he’s still asleep, his light snores being the only thing you can hear. you tell yourself this is not what you wished to wake up to, but the blush creeping up on your face says everything.

ZHONGLI finds it completely normal. he cannot take a hint. it was just a business trip, and he didn’t want you (his secretary) to sleep uncomfortably. you had much to do the morning after and a sore back would do you no good—he was just being a responsible boss. just that, nothing else. he doesn’t notice the blush on your cheeks when he tells you to get in bed with him, and when he tells you goodnight when his face is only inches away from yours. it seems like you don’t notice how he gets a little nervous when you move closer—or accidentally brush your hands against his under the sheets, either.

zhongli takes off his slippers, then throwing the towel on his neck onto the chair next to the nightstand. you’re already in bed, laying down like a mummy—afraid to make a bad impression.

“busy day tomorrow.” he says. “goodnight, y/n.”

you muster the courage to say it back, but the heartbeat pulsing in your ears make it hard. “goodnight.”

“why are you laying down like that?” he suddenly says, just moments after you close your eyes. you jolt awake, surprised he would ask.

“i don’t want to make you uncomfortable, mr. zhongli–“

“don’t be ridiculous. come.” this is not normal. superiors are not supposed to be in the same bed as their secretaries. you’re not supposed to be in the same bed as your superior. nevertheless, he’s your boss. if he wants you to come closer, who are you to disobey?

you move closer to him, letting out a sigh of relief because theres much more space on his side of the bed. you hope it won’t be awkward at tomorrow morning’s meeting, and you hope no one catches you leaving his hotel room as soon as the sun rises.

your eyes open and the sun is rising. the sky is a pink-orange colour—the air is warm, but not too warm. you turn your gaze to your side and see zhongli, sleeping peacefully, and it hits you that you’ve never seen your boss like this. you’d just assumed that he never slept; such a workaholic he is. with his position, who has time to get shuteye?

you don’t realise he’s awake until he says something. you’ve been staring at him for a few minutes now.

“take a picture, it’ll last longer, miss y/n.”

you’re too tired to feel embarrassed, but the red on your cheeks show it anyway. “good morning, mr zhongli.”

“first time i’ve slept so soundly,” he smiles, “we should do this more often.”

zhongli was always blunt and straightforward, though it never bothered you. in fact, you admired that about him—something about the morning air and your boss waking up next to you stirs something in your chest.

THOMA was the shy classmate you always wanted to befriend. he was often seen reading books in the corner of the classroom, his head down and his eyes scanning pages. you were the popular kid, always being approached by those who are interested in you—but thoma was the only one who could catch your attention. you end up making friends with him, and spontaneously invite him on a trip outside the city. a small hostel was all you two could find, and even then, the prices were… outrageous.

“i could pay for two rooms, if you’re not comfortable.” you offered him, but knowing thoma, he’d probably decline and say—

“no, that’s a lot of money.” he shakes his head, “we came all this way. we still need money to head home.” of course, thoma was too sweet to make you do such a thing for him.

when you enter the room, you’re surprised to see only one bed. you’d just sleep on the floor, you thought—you dragged thoma out here, it would only be polite to do such a thing for him.

“so you wanna face the wall or..”

“what?”

“oh, you’re not sleeping on the floor, are you?” he questions, and you think he must be going crazy. what kind of guy asks a question like that? “we walked a lot today.”

your confidence is nowhere to be found now—with thoma, it’s hard for you to find the right words to say because you’re always so nervous; it’s a curse, especially during times like these. you decide to just suck it up for the night. thoma was a deep sleeper; and you knew this because of the train ride here—he was snoring so loud the whole cabin could hear him, and your pokes and shoves did nothing to wake him. it wouldn’t be much of an issue to sleep next to him, you hope.

it’s surprisingly easy to fall asleep next to thoma, his body warms the bed up and you find yourself inching closer to him as the hours pass—it’s comfortable, regrettably, but you can’t help yourself. it’s 4 in the morning when your head is buried into thoma’s shoulder, warmth encapsulating you; and the air is quiet until he speaks.

“it’s so cold tonight,” he’s complaining, though his tone sounds awfully happy, and you feel him hold your hand under the covers. “this hostel is so shitty.”

“isn’t it?” you’re smiling so hard you swear your cheeks are going to fall off. thank the stars it’s pitch dark in the room.

you wake hours later, thoma’s arm under your neck and holding you close. it’s no longer cold, you realise. you hear snoring in your right ear, and you’re once again thankful he can’t see your expression—a bright red.

[obito-in-disguise]

| 100 million |

Husband Megumi x germaphobe reader.

Megumi glances down at your hands, cold from your shower. He takes one of them in his own, interlocking his fingers with yours and slowly rubbing them between his palms to warm them up.

“Why do you always take so long in there...and you always have the water freezing cold too” he grumbles, his warm hands working against yours.

You smile at his sweet gesture, ignoring the sass in his tone. "Thank you gumi"

He gives you a stern look before ultimately cracking a small smile back.

Raising your hand to his lips, he blows warm air onto your skin, rubbing gently to bring some life back into them. He knows you’re a germaphobe, and using his mouth probably isn’t your idea of hygienic, but he doesn’t really care in the moment.

You watch him blow air from his mouth unto your hands, making a face subconsciously.

He sees the scrunched up look on your face and chuckles, knowing exactly why you're doing that.

“What? worried I’m gonna infect you with my cooties? You do know we're married right? we're enshrined into each other now, I kiss you all the time, I've been inside y-”

"Christ gumi!" you cut him off, mortified. He was so reserved in public, but in private? had no inhibitions when it came to saying the wildest things.

He laughs, your reaction so entertaining to him. You still got so embarrassed, despite how long you’d been together. He releases your hands, crossing his over his chest.

“What? I’m just saying what’s true. I do all of those things to you and you’re worried about me breathing on your hand? Come on”

You huff, unclenching and clenching your now warmed hands. "I know, I know...it's more of a psychological thing"

He hums in mock understanding, letting his mind wander to all the silly rules you'd set throughout the course of your relationship.

No eating from the same silverware. No drinking from the same cup. No putting of eachother's dirty clothes together. He hadn’t seen someone so adamant about not sharing anything with anyone before.

“We’re supposed to be sharing everything. You’re just ridiculous. Why the hell can’t you eat with the same fork I just ate off of?”

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself before shouting at the top of your lungs. "A MILLIMETER OF SALIVA CONTAINS A 100 MILLION BACTERIA"

He doesn’t miss a beat, mirroring your volume. "WE GO TO POUNDTOWN EVERYNIGHT, THAT IS THE LEAST OF YOUR WORRIES"

You can't stop the giggles that escape your lips as you immediately jump to slap a hand over his mouth, you had neighbours.

He chuckles too, prying your hand off to continue embarrassing you. "We do far worse things than sharing silverware!"

You laugh harder "That's different!"

He rolls his eyes, deciding to humor you. "Pray tell, how is it different?"

"Going to poundtown is an in the moment thing..." you explains ridiculously.

Megumi doubles over with laughter, the sheer absurdity of your logic breaking him completely. He can never handle the things that come out of your mouth sometimes. They're just so bizarre.

“What the hell, I can’t even argue with that”

"That's right" you grin triumphantly. You hold up your finger as you begin to lecture him.

"You see Fushiguro, when we...get down, I don't have time to think about how much bacteria we're swapping." You shudder "but when we're eating?!! there's all the time in the world!"

He scoffs, shaking his head. He found your reaction to the very thought of sharing silverware with him, your husband, completely baffling.

“What a load of bullshit" he deadpans.

His eyes are filled with fondness as he watches you throw your head back and laugh at that, with that smile that always sends his heart racing.

Your germaphobe shenanigans were the bane of his existence but there was no one he would rather share the rest of his life with, your silly quirks and all.

oh how I love to daydream about married life, don't disappoint me universe 🤞🏻

Feel free to check out my other Jujutsu Kaisen fics and more stories!

[ghostchems]

infernal - terzo x f!reader - part seven

and now... a flashback chapter

art by the always amazing @piaart

author’s note: i feel like shit but it helped me finish this up. plenty of terzo pain here meanwhile reader is home, blissfully unaware. i also have no idea if my writing is good at this point but here ya go! part one/two/three/four/five/six. ao3 link.

If you could see the wreck I am these days, you’d have new reasons to stay away. Just hold my hand for a little while —

Misery never goes out of style.

Terzo traces a delicate finger along one of the bags under his eyes, no longer concealed by the dark eye paint he once wore. His brows furrow at the sight of himself in the mirror. The wrinkles have deepened since he left the stage. His hair, now less lustrous, betrays gray strands emerging from his roots and sideburns. All those years spent cultivating his image, trying to become the perfect imperfection that Lucifer himself boasted—only to unravel after one fateful show. He grits his teeth, his mismatched eyes sharpening in his reflection.

With all the glitz stripped away, he loathes how much he now resembles his father…

Terzo forces the thought out of his head. His days are spent analyzing his time as Papa and what went wrong. He wouldn’t do anything differently but it still stung, especially after the new heights and exposure he had achieved for the Ministry. Somehow, it was not enough. His father was never proud of him, a theme that stretched throughout his entire life. Terzo was only ever the Third to him, the third son that would serve his purpose and then be pushed aside for whoever was next. While this had been the typical progression, Terzo was the fool who thought he would be different — even after being warned by Secondo.

Secondo.

“Cazzo.”

He’s late for Uno Night.

The once-revered Emeritus brothers now find themselves relegated to a desolate corner of the abbey with their only entertainment being a silly card game. Their influence wanes with each passing day. Terzo can't help but sneer at the irony of their situation - former leaders now barely more than forgotten relics, with only each other’s company. There was a time when the Emeritus brothers were revered as gods among men. Crowds would surge forward at their concerts, desperate to touch the hem of their robes or catch a glimpse of their painted faces. Devotees would line up for hours, sometimes days, just for the chance to receive a blessing or a fleeting moment of attention. Their every word was treated as gospel, their gestures analyzed and imitated by legions of faithful followers.

In the halls of the Ministry, their presence commanded instant respect and adoration. Ghouls and Siblings of Sin alike would bow their heads in reverence as they passed. Their chambers were filled with lavish gifts from admirers - exotic incense, priceless artifacts, and fervent love letters. The very air seemed to crackle with power and dark allure whenever they entered a room. Now, that electric atmosphere has faded to a dull static. The gifts have stopped coming, the adoring crowds have moved on to newer, shinier idols. The once-mighty Emeritus brothers find themselves grasping at the fading light of their former glory, clinging to memories of a time when they were worshipped as the embodiments of their infernal master.

He used to delicately paint his face for each meeting, a ritual of devotion to himself and his roll as Papa. But now, as he stares at his bare face, he feels a bitter resentment towards the being he once revered. The paint feels like a mask of lies, concealing the growing doubts and anger festering within him. Lucifer's promises of power and glory now ring hollow in his ears, leaving only the taste of ash and disappointment. Terzo exhales through his nose and tears himself away from the mirror, satisfied with his appearance but frustrated with the progression of his thoughts. He had grown more disillusioned by the day with the cause he so passionately promoted, the being he worshipped. Lucifer, once his guiding light, now seemed like a cruel puppeteer, manipulating him for some cosmic joke.

Omega did not like these thoughts. In fact, Terzo has begun avoiding him and instead has been seeking the company of his brothers. Perhaps the one silver lining in all of this is that he is closer than he ever has been with his true family, minus daddy dearest, of course. They had grown up together, with Primo practically raising him and Secondo after they had come to the ministry. Back then he was a true zealot - a satanic lunatic whose fervor for the dark arts knew no bounds. It was from him that Terzo learned the intricacies of their infernal faith, absorbing every ritual and incantation with wide-eyed fascination. Yet, somehow, both Terzo and Secondo emerged less fanatical than their older brother.

But still competitors, nonetheless. Secondo and Terzo had been born to different mothers three months apart so it came naturally. The more time spent together now, the more they realize how similar they can be and deep down, Terzo wishes they had not been so combative. It was encouraged, though, fed and grown by the higher ups in the ministry and their father. Maybe they feared they would be too powerful if they were close.

Now all they care about is Uno.

"Fuck!" Terzo exclaims again, his voice tinged with frustration as he runs a hand tiredly over his face. The weight of his thoughts bears down on him, but he knows he can't afford to dwell any longer. With a deep sigh, he forces himself into action, slipping his feet into his shoes - the familiar spats clicking as he gets them on. Just as he reaches for the door handle, a sharp knock echoes through the room. Terzo pauses, his hand hovering in mid-air. Irritation flashes across his face.

"Enter," he calls out, his voice tinged with impatience.

The door creaks open, revealing a young Sibling of Sin. Their face is pale, eyes wide with fear and urgency. Terzo's irritation gives way to curiosity as he takes in their disheveled appearance.

"What is it?" he asks, his tone softening slightly.

The Sibling swallows hard before speaking, their voice trembling. "Papa, I... I have news. It's about Omega."

Terzo's eyebrows furrow. "Omega? What about him?" He nonchalantly goes back to adjusting his outfit, wondering if this is another plot from the ghoul to try and make him listen to “reason”. He certainly has stooped rather low, almost as low as Terzo.

The Sibling takes a deep breath, as if steeling themselves for what they're about to say. "He's been banished, Papa. Omega has been cast out of the Ministry."

The words hit Terzo like a physical blow. He stumbles back a step, his mind reeling. "Banished?" he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "But... how? Why?" Pain is etched across his face.

The Sibling shakes their head, clearly as confused and shaken as Terzo. "I don't know the details, Papa. It happened so suddenly. They're saying it came from the highest levels of the Ministry."

Terzo's mind races, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Shock, confusion, and a sudden, unexpected pang of loss all vie for dominance. Despite their recent disagreements, Omega had been a constant in his life for so long. The thought of him being gone, cast out... it's almost inconceivable.

Terzo's composure shatters as the weight of the news crashes over him. His eyes flash with unbridled fury, causing the Sibling to take an involuntary step back. "Get out!" he roars, his voice reverberating off the walls. "Leave me! Now!" The Sibling, wide-eyed with fear, scrambles to obey, nearly tripping over their own feet in their haste to escape. Terzo slams the door with such force that the entire room seems to shake, the sound echoing through the corridors like a thunderclap.

As soon as the barrier between him and the outside world is secure, everything crumbles. A primal roar of anguish and frustration tears from his throat, echoing off the walls of his private chambers. In a whirlwind of unbridled emotion, he lashes out at his surroundings. His fist connects with the ornate mirror adorning his vanity, the impact sending a spider web of cracks across its surface before it shatters completely. Shards of glass rain down, glittering in the dim light like fallen stars.

But Terzo's rage demands more destruction. He overturns his meticulously organized desk, unleashing an avalanche of papers, pens, and trinkets onto the floor. Books, once neatly arranged on shelves, are torn free and flung across the room, their pages fluttering like disoriented birds. His wardrobe—a carefully curated collection of robes and suits that once symbolized his power and prestige—falls victim to his fury next. Garments are ripped from hangers and strewn about haphazardly, silk and velvet mingling with the debris below. Spotting one of his Papal robes, an early prototype, he seizes it and tears, splitting seams and fabric into pieces with savage force.

He could kill them. End the reign of his father and Sister Imperator with a knife to their throats, a hammer to their heads. He’s capable and he’s angry.

But that’s not who Terzo is.

His appetite for destruction is as swift as it is thorough. When the storm of his anger finally subsides, Terzo finds himself standing amidst the wreckage of his once-immaculate quarters. His chest heaves with each ragged breath, his knuckles having bloodied his gloves from his outburst. The room, previously a testament to his refined tastes and exalted position, now lies in utter ruin around him. He closes his eyes, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as the full weight of what has transpired begins to settle upon him.

The dust settles around him, both literally and figuratively, as his mind wanders to Omega. Their relationship, once the core of his existence within the Ministry, had deteriorated over the past several months, transforming into a strained and tenuous connection. The rift between them had widened, growing into a seemingly unbridgeable gap that threatened to swallow everything they shared whole. Omega, ever faithful of their infernal master, had persistently begged Terzo to embrace what he perceived as a well-deserved retirement—a supposed reward bestowed upon them by Lucifer himself for their years of unwavering service and dedication.

"Papa, you've more than earned this rest," Omega would implore, his eyes blazing with sheer intensity behind his cool mask that Terzo found increasingly difficult to look at. "Our Dark Lord Lucifer, in his infinite wisdom, has granted you this period of rest and reflection. Why do you persist in resisting? Can you not see the honor in this gift he has bestowed upon you?"

But for Terzo, the notion of settling into a life of idle luxury felt suffocating—a gilded cage that threatened to strip away everything he had fought so hard to achieve. The very thought of turning his back on the empire he had painstakingly built, nurtured, and expanded over the years felt like a betrayal of who he is and what defines him. As time wore on, his arguments with Omega grew increasingly heated and frequent, his frustration mounting with each tense exchange, threatening to boil over into hostility.

"You call this rest, Omega?" Terzo would retort, his voice rising with each impassioned word, hands gesticulating wildly to emphasize his point. "This isn't rest—it's nothing short of exile, a banishment from everything I've ever known and loved! How can you, of all people, expect me to sit idly by, content to watch as everything I've dedicated my life to—my very existence—crumbles around me like dust?" The air between them would crackle with tension during these confrontations, an electric charge that made it increasingly difficult for them to occupy the same space without the risk of conflict erupting at any moment.

Now, with the shocking news of Omega's sudden and unexpected banishment reverberating through the chambers of his mind, Terzo finds himself consumed with emotion. Relief, guilt, anger, and a profound sense of loss intertwine in a dizzying dance, each vying for dominance in the turbulent landscape of his mind. Despite their recent differences and the ever-widening divide between them, Omega had been a constant, unwavering presence in Terzo's life for longer than he cared to remember—a touchstone of familiarity. His abrupt absence leaves a gaping void in the fabric of Terzo's existence, a wound so deep and raw that he isn't certain he possesses the means to heal it.

Even with the turmoil raging inside him, Terzo finds himself drawn to the familiar comfort of his brothers' company. With a heavy sigh, he straightens his posture and smooths down his attire, a reflexive gesture from years of public appearances. He may be struggling, but he'll be damned if he lets it show—at least not to them. They have all had their hardships. If anyone knows and understands what he is feeling right now, it is his brothers. Terzo’s steps are heavy, using his feet to clear a path forward amidst everything now on the floor. He reaches the door, hesitating for just a moment. There’s a weight pressing down on him that threatens to crush him, to break him down until there’s nothing left.

He won’t let it.

Terzo opens the door and leaves his room. As he makes his way towards the small room where their Uno nights are held, his mind goes blank, going numb to the intense feelings that are simmering beneath the surface. He trudges down the dimly lit corridor, his footsteps echoing off the ancient stone walls, focusing on that sound to keep him grounded. As he rounds a corner, lost in the maelstrom of his thoughts, a familiar voice catches his attention, causing him to halt abruptly.

Turning, he sees Cardinal Copia emerging from his office, a stack of papers tucked under one arm and an Uno card inexplicably held between two fingers of his free hand. The Cardinal's painted face breaks into a warm smile as he spots Terzo, oblivious to the storm brewing within the former Papa.

"Ah, Papa, on your way to Uno Night, yes?” The cheerful greeting hangs in the air, a stark contrast to the darkness swirling within Terzo.

Terzo's entire body tenses, his jaw clenching so tightly he can hear his teeth grind. The sight of him, so content and oblivious to the turmoil raging through the Ministry, ignites a fire in Terzo's chest—one that he had hoped was extinguished following his outburst in his room. His eyes narrow as he regards Copia with barely contained irritation. "Uno Night," he repeats, his voice low and controlled, though tension radiates from every syllable. "Mmm… yes." He takes a step closer to Copia, his presence suddenly looming and intimidating.

Copia's smile falters slightly, but he presses on, still oblivious and sweet. "It's become quite the tradition with your brothers, hasn't it?" He hesitates for a moment, then reaches into his sleeve and pulls out a blue reverse card. He holds it out to Terzo, a tentative peace offering. "Here, Papa. I always keep this one for luck. Perhaps... perhaps you'd like to have it for tonight's game?"

Terzo's gaze sharpens dangerously as he struggles to maintain his composure. His arms are crossed tightly over his chest, fingers digging into his biceps. The sight of that blue card in Copia's hand—a symbol of the carefree life he now leads—causes the fire to spread inside him, consuming him yet again. Terzo’s voice, when he finally speaks, is low and menacing, barely above a whisper.

"Tradition?" His voice is guttural and rough. "You dare speak to me of tradition when everything is crumbling around us? When the very foundations of our world are ripped away from us?" His words are full of anguish and rage, each one striking Copia like a physical blow.

The Cardinal stumbles back, his expression morphing from confusion to outright fear. "P-Papa, I... I don't understand-" he stammers, his voice trembling.

"Of course you don't understand!" Terzo cuts him off, his composure shattering completely. "You're nothing but a pawn, a naive fool dancing to their twisted tune!" He gestures wildly, his movements sharp and erratic. "Do you have any idea what's happening beyond your little bubble of blissful ignorance? Omega is gone! Banished! Cast out like yesterday's trash! And here you stand, grinning like a fool, oblivious to the chaos swirling around you!"

Copia's eyes widen in shock, the full weight of Terzo's words finally sinking in. "Omega? But how- Why-" he begins, but Terzo is far from finished.

Terzo snatches the blue Uno card from Copia's hand, gripping it so hard it begins to crumble in his grip. "And this?" he spits, brandishing it like damning evidence. "You think this changes anything? You think a game can fix what's broken? This card, this... this mockery of what we once were!" His voice rises to a near-scream. "Do you have any idea what this represents? It's not just a game, you fool! It's everything we've lost, everything that's been taken from us!"

With a primal yell that seems to shake the very stones of the corridor, Terzo tears the card to shreds. The pieces flutter between them like confetti, a mockery of celebration in this moment of utter despair. Copia flinches, raising his hands as if to shield himself from the physical manifestation of Terzo's rage.

"P-Papa, please," Copia stammers, his voice barely above a whisper, a plea for understanding, for mercy. "I didn't mean to-"

But Terzo is beyond reason, beyond mercy. His voice drops to a low, dangerous hiss, each word dripping with venom. "Get out of my sight," he commands, his tone brooking no argument. "You don't belong here. You never will. You're nothing but a pale imitation, a cheap replacement for something you could never hope to understand. And take your pathetic games with you!"

As Copia retreats, practically running down the corridor, Terzo stands amidst the scattered remains of the card. His chest heaves with each ragged breath, anger and grief warring within him. In the sudden silence, the weight of his actions begins to settle upon him. He knows, in some distant corner of his mind, that he's overreacted, that Copia isn't truly to blame for the chaos engulfing their world. But in this moment, all he can feel is the crushing weight of loss - of his position, of Omega, of everything he once held dear. And that damned Uno card, now in pieces at his feet, seems to mock him with its cheerful blue color, a stark contrast to the darkness consuming his soul.

If only he could reverse being removed from the Papacy.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Terzo straightens his posture and adjusts his shirt in an attempt to calm himself. He struggles to push down the turmoil within, determined not to let his brothers see his inner struggle. As he approaches the card room, he steels himself, forcing his face into a mask of nonchalance.

Opening the door, he finds his brothers already seated. An almost startling wave of relief washes over him. He allows a scoff to escape his lips at the sight of Primo, face fully painted and wearing a Burberry scarf. Before he can comment, Secondo interjects.

"Already gave him trouble for it, stronzino. If you'd been on time, you could've joined." There's a glint of mischief in Secondo's eyes.

Terzo rolls his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite his best efforts to maintain his aloof facade. He saunters over to the table, pulling up a chair with dramatic flair. "Well, shall we begin? I'm feeling particularly lucky tonight." He shoots a pointed look at Secondo, silently accepting the challenge in his brother's gaze.

He settles into his seat and the feeling of relief continues to spread through him. Here, surrounded by his brothers and the familiar rhythm of an extremely low-stakes card game, he can momentarily push aside his anger and frustration. In this room, he's not the fallen Papa or a disappointment to the Ministry - he's simply Terzo, the youngest of the Emeritus brothers, ready to lose himself in the game and forget, if only for a while, how far he has fallen.

On this particular evening, Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil would make an unexpected appearance, delivering news that would leave the brothers startled and confused.

They would be unable to continue their card game.

Terzo is deep in his desk chair, his body nearly slipped from it onto the floor. His gaze is locked on the the hell phone which has been ringing nonstop since you left for the night. Your taste is still on his tongue, your scent clinging to his robe. He’s afraid to move to disturb the haze he’s settled into, even though you would be back bright and early for work the morning after next. Fingers fall to his temples, rubbing them with each piercing ring of the phone.

He wouldn’t answer. He doesn’t want to face who is on the other line.

Was it Omega? What could he possibly say? He would only complicate matters—as he already has. The hell phone materialized before you, and you listened to the sounds of the abyss. It drove you into Terzo's arms and bed, but... you didn't deserve to experience such terrors or feel so frightened in his home. Or at least, if anyone was going to frighten you it should be him. His fingers drum along the arms of the chair, a deep grumble vibrating from his chest. The goal is to get you to stay, to devote yourself to him and only him. Yet the fear gnaws at him. What if the terrors you've witnessed push you away? The thought of losing you to the very darkness he once revered sends a chill through him. He wants you by his side, but you have to want to be there. Perhaps, he muses bitterly, this is another of Lucifer's cruel jokes—dangling happiness before him, only to threaten it with the very forces he once embraced.

Maybe the imp who fixed your tire that Terzo had shredded was calling. What was that all about? He didn’t have time to mull that incident over earlier while you were here. Is he manifesting things?

The memory of when he had accidentally shocked you resurfaces, Terzo's frown deepens. He recalls the pain on your face when he zapped your wrist. His gaze drifts to his hands, studying them as if they belong to a stranger. These hands that once commanded crowds, that channeled unholy energies with precision and purpose, now feel like unpredictable weapons. He clenches his fists, feeling the familiar tingle of power just beneath his skin. What if he hurts you again?

Another memory flits to the forefront of his mind — when he screamed at you over his relics being displayed causing a lightbulb to shatter. He remembers the fear in your eyes as it happened. It wasn't Lucifer's doing—it was his own power, his own lack of control. The realization hits him like a punch to the gut. Perhaps the true threat to your happiness, to any chance of a future together, isn't some external force or cosmic joke. It's him.

The silver lining is that you had seemed to be… into it. But what if next time, it's worse than a small shock or a broken bulb?

The thought sends a wave of despair crashing over him. Is he doomed to be alone, forever isolated by the very gifts that once made him special? The irony isn't lost on him—he who once reveled in his dark powers, who used them to seduce and enthrall, now fears them as the very thing that might drive you away. Terzo slumps further in his chair. The illusion of his perfection continues to fade but he’s stubborn. Unwilling to change his ways even though he knows he can be cruel and difficult.

He originally expected you to just deal with it.

Terzo rises with a frustrated growl, letting the hell phone continue its incessant ringing. He stalks over to his liquor cabinet, hands trembling slightly as he pours himself a generous measure of whiskey. What have you done to him? How dare you make him want to be better? He decides he must, at the very least, attempt to protect you from whatever hell seemingly has in store for you. This includes tempering his emotions, an obvious factor of his otherworldly abilities. Seriously, how dare you?

Taking a long swig, he savors the burn as it slides down his throat. It's a familiar comfort, one that does little to reduce the budding anxiety he feels. With a heavy sigh, he turns his back on the still-ringing phone and retreats to his bedroom, drink in hand. The door closes behind him, muffling the sound of the hell phone but he can still feel its presence. Terzo takes another sip, hoping to drink himself into unconsciousness.

Only two sleeps until he sees you again.

[nyuoqi]

            — SO I MARRIED MY ANTI-FAN     ౨ৎ     SES

O2O.    eunseok vs seunghan

✸ SYNOPSIS !  : congratulations! you have been invited to korea's #1 romance reality show 'We Got Married' where you will be living with your co-star like a married couple. but what will you do when you find out that your husband is actually your anti-fan?

author's note 𐬹 ۫ ۪  feels so good to be back :)

(1.98k words, not proofread)

YOU WANDER AROUND THE APARTMENT in search of any entertainment, bored out of your mind. Today is a day-off for you, Eunseok and the production team. Which means that there are no cameras filming you for today, giving you the freedom of doing whatever it is you want to do.

The day went by quickly as you spent it on nothing but your phone; texting Seunghan who has somewhat become your new friend and scrolling through your social media.

It is during near your bedtime when you realise how unproductive you have been today. So you decide to put your phone away and wander around the apartment in search of anything to entertain you.

The sight of Eunseok setting up his phone in the living room stops you in your tracks when suddenly an idea comes up in your mind. Grinning to yourself, you walk up towards Eunseok on your tippy toes to surprise him.

Eunseok on the other hand isn't exactly cluless to your plan. He has his back facing you as he struggles to find a good angle where he can balance his phone while simultaneously move his hands freely. His front camera mirroring him. 

At the corner of the screen, Eunseok catches the sight of you creeping up on him, the mischievous glint in your eyes couldn't have been more obvious. Eunseok struggles to hold back a grin the more he sees you, finding you absolutely adorable.

"I can see you, you know? " He says with a laugh, his back still facing you.

You visibly stiffen for a few seconds, your lips falling into a soft pout and your eyes looking defeated. Eunseok observes you from the screen of his phone, the grin he is holding back now displayed in a toothy way.

"Do you want me to pretend I didn't see you the first time so that you can surprise me? " He suggests with a playful tone. Your pout deepen and it seems as if you don't appreciate his suggestion.

Eunseok's grin grows bigger if possible, finding you absolutely adorable when sulking.

"Come here, sit beside me. Don't think I haven't realised how you were basically pacing around the apartment for the past 15 minutes. " He says as he taps the empty spot beside him.

You don't hesitate to head over towards him and occupy both the spot beside him and his personal space as you lean forward on his arms. You then grab one of his arms and drapes it on your stomach, cocooning yourself into his warmth.

The small intimate act makes Eunseok lightheaded as butterflies erupt in his stomach. That must've been due to the amount of chocolate he has consumed today, mustn't it? 

Eunseok fail to even believe his own words the moment the tip of ears turns pink, making him slowly lose focus.

"What are you doing? " You ask your husband who has been fixing the position of his phone for the past few minutes, seemingly trying to find the perfect angle. You tilt your head up to meet Eunseok's gaze, unconsciously snuggling closer to him. "Are you trying to take a picture? Could've just asked me you know, I'm pretty good at taking pictures. "

Eunseok almost laugh at your assumption. If only you know the real reason he's setting up the camera, you would probably be frowning and asking him why. You probably will also have your eyebrows meet from an adorable frown.

"I'm gonna have a video call with my members, why? " He says softly, finally getting the angle he's looking for. He leans back on the couch and pulls you along with him. He's cautious though, fearing that you are able to hear his loud heartbeat if he pulls you in closer.

You say nothing as you scroll on your phone, giggling to yourself at a silly cat video on your TikTok For You page. You lightly tap on Eunseok's arm to show him the video, your giggles only getting louder as you keep on rewatching the video.

After the video replays for three times, you finally lift your head up to take a look at Eunseok's reaction. Surprise overtakes your body when you catch Eunseok staring into your eyes.

He doesn't stop— no, he continues to stare at you even when he gets caught in the headlights.

Your cheeks grow warm. You want to look away and bury your face in the pillow beside you, maybe you might even pretend he wasn't just staring at you. However, you somehow just cannot take your eyes off of him.

The same thing goes for Eunseok.

A vibration from your phone causes you to look away from him. You fish put the small device from your back pocket and check the notification. Seunghan has sent you a message.

hannie ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

eunseok is about to beat my ass via discord Pls help me. 🙏

Your eyes narrow at the text message, a confused hum escaping your mouth. Eunseok takes note of the sound and glances at your phone. He immediately sees the text message sent from Seunghan.

You know Eunseok is watching your screen so you simply turn to look at him. "What does he mean by this? " You tilt your head, confused. 

Eunseok opens his mouth to answer but he struggles to find the right words for it that won't make him sound insane. You tilt your head further and Eunseok finds himself getting distracted by your beauty.

You look so adorable from this angle, he thinks. The position is perfect. He has your back pressed against his chest as his right arm rests on your shoulders. Your rounded eyes looking straight into his. The smell of your sweet body lotion invades his nose and he loves it so much. Most importantly, the warmth of your body provides comfort to him— like a soft blanket on a chilly autumn evening.

A loud ringing sound coming from Eunseok's phone causes the both of you to break the eye contact. Eunseok hesitates but the sound is too loud to his liking.

He looks at the phone he has just set up snd see an upcoming discord video call from 'RIZZLERSSS 😏🔥'. He sighs deeply, reaching out to decline the call. However you stop him, asking him if it's Riize's discord server.

"Are your members in there? " Your eyes sparkles when you turn to look at Eunseok again. He hesitates a bit but eventually mutters a small yes. You gasp, your body turning around to face his as your left hand touches his right shoulder. "Can I talk to them, please? "

Eunseok wants to decline, knowing the true nature of the video call. However the sparkles in your eyes are just too captivating. Actually, it might be your touch on his shoulder because he swears he can feel himself getting hypnotised. He can't say no to you anymore.

"Of course. " His smile crooks as the words leave his mouth, yet he presses on the accept call button, putting both of you in the call.

"No we can't cancel this, how else am I supposed to see you guys e-fighting? " Sungchan says to Seunghan who is trying to convince everyone to leave the call.

They continue to bicker for a little while until Wonbin points out the small screen with you and Eunseok inside. "Is that Eunseok— and Y/n? " He says, confused.

You give him a little wave along with a smile. Unmuting the mic, you greet them excitedly. "Hi everyone. Hi Seunghan! " You wave a little more enthusiastically at Seunghan, missing the way Eunseok's eyes narrows at it. The rest of the members looking uneasy, especially Seunghan.

"Where's Sohee? " Anton asks, trying to break the ice. Everyone only realising then that one of their maknaes are missing. Shotaro shrugs, "Probably blowing up the toilet. I saw him eating the 2x spicy buldak for dinner. "

The call is silent for a few seconds. No one knowing what to say. Normally, their call has never been silent. However, the presence of you makes a few of them shuffle in their seats awkwardly.

"You know what fuck this. " Sungchan says before clapping his hands. "Welcome everyone— and Y/n— to the fight of Eunseok and Seunghan! "

You frown in confusion, your body turning back around to face Eunseok. "What do you mean fight? You're gonna fight Seunghan? How, virtually? " 

Eunseok's body tenses for a moment, his eyes not meeting yours. Instead, he looks over to his members over the call and sends a help signal through his eyes.

Sungchan chuckles awkwardly, his hand rubbing his nape. "Well Y/n, Eunseok here is super jealous of Seunghan for getting your attention so we, as per his request, set up this call for them to fight! " He ends his speech with a toothy grin.

"Is this what this is about Eunseok, you're jealous? " Your tone unbelievable at the newly found information. "Is this why you were grumpy this morning? " A chuckle leaving your lips this time.

Eunseok finally looks down on you and nods sheepishly, his lips pursed together. "I mean, I'm your husband and this is supposed to be our honeymoon yet you're giving Seunghan all the attention. "

You laugh louder this time, the sound of it resonating within the four walls of your living room. "So you're telling me you did all this just because you were upset I didn't give you my attention? Oh Eunseok... " 

Your eyes look at him with sympathy but your lips are teasing him with a smile. "You're so cute when you're jealous. Now tell me, what do I have to do for you to stop jumping on Seunghan? " Your hands reach up to pinch on his naturally flushed cheeks.

"Follow me on twitter. " Eunseok mumbles quietly, embarrassed at his own request. You tilt your head, not catching his words. "What did you say? "

Eunseok turns his head away from you, refusing to look into your eyes as he repeats his words louder, "Follow me on twitter. "

Did you hear that right? There's no way Eunseok is telling you to follow him on Twitter only because he's jealous with Seunghan. You must've been hearing things wrong and it seems as if everyone else are thinking the same.

"Eunseok be so fucking for real. " Seunghan is the first one to break the awkward silence. One nasty look from Eunseok is enough to shut him up.

"Okay guys, not too much on Eunseok, he's just jealous. " You defend, surpassing a smile. Eunseok opens his mouth in protest but gets cut off by you, "Now if you guys don't mind, we will be leaving the call because apparently my super jealous husband wants me to follow him on Twitter. Bye! "

The small screen that belongs to you and Eunseok disappears the moment you leave the call. You laugh and pinch Eunseok's cheek after you press the 'follow' button on his account. 

"You're so silly sometimes. " You say, your nose scrunching as a result of you smiling a little bit too hard. Eunseok can't help himself from grinning like an idiot, shamelessly admiring how pretty you look like when you smile.

"Yeah, I guess I kinda am. " He replies with flushed cheeks.

On the other side, a beat of silence passes by after you leave the meeting. The members look at each other in confusion until Shotaro speaks up for the first time that night, "What the fuck. "

Sohee, who joins the meeting late as a result of him blowing up the toilet looks at everyone in confusion. "Where's Eunseok? Why are you guys so quiet? " He asks.

Sumgchan shakes his head, still stunned, "I don't know either man. "

yn's new priv's layout btw:

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