#Smart Mirror Market

[horowbath]

[semiconductor-hub]

Smart Mirror Market Demand, Revenue, and Forecast to 2032

The Smart Mirror is a cutting-edge device that blends reflective surfaces with advanced digital technology to offer interactive and multifunctional experiences. Equipped with integrated displays and sensors, Smart Mirrors provide real-time information such as weather updates, calendar events, and news feeds directly on the mirror's surface. They often include voice and touch controls, allowing users to interact seamlessly with digital content while performing daily routines. The Smart Mirror is designed to enhance convenience, efficiency, and connectivity in both residential and commercial settings.

The Smart Mirror Market size was valued at USD 548.21 million in 2023 and is expected to reach at USD 1132.94 million in 2032, grow at a CAGR of 8.9% over the forecast period of 2024-2032.

Future Scope: 

The future of Smart Mirrors is marked by the integration of more advanced technologies and expanded functionalities. Upcoming innovations include enhanced AI capabilities for personalized recommendations and health monitoring features such as skin analysis and fitness tracking. The incorporation of augmented reality (AR) will further enhance interactive experiences by overlaying virtual information and objects onto the mirror’s surface. As smart home ecosystems evolve, Smart Mirrors will likely play a central role in integrating with other smart devices and systems, offering a more cohesive and intuitive user experience.

Trends: 

Current trends in Smart Mirrors include the increasing adoption of AI and machine learning to provide personalized content and interactions. There is also a growing focus on integrating health and wellness features, such as fitness tracking and skincare analysis. The use of AR and VR technologies is becoming more prevalent, enhancing the mirror’s interactive capabilities. Additionally, the market is seeing a rise in customizable designs and advanced connectivity options that allow Smart Mirrors to integrate with other smart home devices and systems.

Applications: 

Smart Mirrors are used in various applications, including home bathrooms, fitness centers, retail environments, and commercial spaces. In residential settings, they provide valuable information and enhance daily routines with interactive features. In fitness centers, they offer workout guidance and real-time performance tracking. Retailers use Smart Mirrors to engage customers with virtual try-ons and personalized product recommendations. In commercial spaces, they serve as interactive information hubs and enhance customer experience.

Solutions and Services: 

Solutions related to Smart Mirrors include custom design and integration services, software development for interactive features, and installation support. Manufacturers offer maintenance services and updates to ensure optimal performance and security. Additionally, training and support services are available to help users maximize the capabilities of their Smart Mirrors and integrate them effectively into their environments.

Key Points:

Integrates reflective surfaces with digital displays for interactive experiences.

Features include real-time information, voice and touch controls, and smart home integration.

Future advancements focus on AI, health monitoring, AR/VR integration, and expanded functionalities.

Trends include personalized content, wellness features, and advanced connectivity.

Applications span residential, fitness, retail, and commercial environments.

Solutions include custom design, software development, installation, and support services.

Read More Details: https://www.snsinsider.com/reports/smart-mirror-market-2819 

Contact Us:

Akash Anand — Head of Business Development & Strategy

Email: info@snsinsider.com

Phone: +1–415–230–0044 (US) | +91–7798602273 (IND) 

[industryforecastnews]

Smart Mirror Market Size To Reach $1,012.6 Million By 2030

Smart Mirror Market Growth & Trends

The global smart mirror market size was estimated to reach USD 1,012.6 million in 2030 and is anticipated to expand at a CAGR of 8.8% from 2023 to 2030, according to a new report by Grand View Research, Inc. The increasing demand for smart home devices is having a significant impact on the smart mirror market. Smart mirrors have become highly sought-after due to their ability to seamlessly integrate with various smart devices and systems within a smart home ecosystem. These mirrors serve as convenient control centers, delivering notifications, presenting information, and facilitating connectivity with other smart devices, making them an appealing addition to modern smart homes.

The wall mounted smart mirror dominated the market by holding a major share in 2022. Smart mirrors are high in cost and due to their higher cost in comparison to regular mirrors, consumers are exercising caution and gravitating towards wall-mounted smart mirrors. These types of smart mirrors not only help save space by eliminating the need for floor placement but also enhance the aesthetic appeal of a room. Given that bathrooms, in particular, are typically smaller in many homes, there is a significant demand for space-saving solutions like wall-mounted smart mirrors.

Application of smart mirror in commercial spaces exhibited the largest share in 2022. The adoption of smart mirrors in the commercial sector has experienced significant growth in recent years due to their ability to enhance customer experiences, improve engagement, and provide valuable data for businesses. These devices offer various functionalities that cater to different industries, transforming the way businesses interact with customers.One industry where smart mirrors have gained traction is retail. They are used in stores to create interactive and immersive shopping experiences, enabling customers to virtually try on clothing, accessories, or makeup. This technology enhances customer convenience, reduces return rates, and boosts sales.

The sale of smart mirror through offline channel held the larger market size in 2022. Offline channels offer customers the chance to personally evaluate the products, providing them with a valuable opportunity to assess the quality, design, and functionality of smart mirrors before committing to a purchase. This hands-on experience becomes especially significant when considering the integration of a premium product such as a smart mirror. Furthermore, offline channels typically employ well-informed sales personnel who can offer personalized assistance and guidance to customers, further enhancing their shopping experience.

North America accounted for the largest share of the market. The growth of smart mirrors in the region can be attributed to the growing acceptance of smart technologies, the heightened consumer demand for personalized experiences, and the convenience they provide. Smart mirrors have emerged as a desirable choice for consumers due to their unique combination of functionality, convenience, and aesthetic appeal. Their capability to display real-time information, seamlessly integrate with virtual assistants, and offer personalized features has significantly contributed to their popularity among households in North America.

Various steps are adopted by the key companies including new product launches, partnerships, mergers and acquisitions, global expansion, and others to gain more share of the market. 

Request a free sample copy or view report summary: https://www.grandviewresearch.com/industry-analysis/smart-mirror-market-report

Smart Mirror Market Report Highlights

Europe is expected to expand with a considerable CAGR over the forecast period from 2023 to 2030. In Europe, consumers place a high value on design and aesthetics in home decor, which drives the preference for products like smart mirrors

The free-standing segment is estimated to expand with substantial CAGR over the forecast period. The flexibility in placement of these mirrors is a key driving factor behind the increasing popularity and growth of free-standing smart mirrors

The commercial segment is anticipated to expand with a faster CAGR over the forecast period. Use of smart mirrors in commercial spaces enhances customer convenience, reduces return rates, and boosts sales owing to which their adoption is increasing in commercial spaces thus surging the market growth

The online sales channel is expected to expand with a higher CAGR over the forecast period. Online distribution channels offer various conveniences for shopping owing to which its use is increasing among consumers thus surging the segment’s growth

Smart Mirror Market Segmentation

Grand View Research has segmented the global smart mirror market on the basis of installation type, application, distribution channel, and region:

Smart Mirror Installation Type Outlook (Revenue, USD Million, 2017 - 2030)

Wall Mounted

Free-Standing

Smart Mirror Application Outlook (Revenue, USD Million, 2017 - 2030)

Residential

Commercial

Smart Mirror Distribution Channel Outlook (Revenue, USD Million, 2017 - 2030)

Online

Offline

Smart Mirror Regional Outlook (Revenue, USD Million, 2017 - 2030)

North America

U.S.

Europe

U.K.

Germany

France

Asia Pacific

China

Japan

India

South Korea

Australia

Central & South America

Brazil

Middle East & Africa

South Africa

List of Key Players of Smart Mirror Market

ELECTRIC MIRROR, INC.

Séura

Hidden Television

Majestic Mirror & Frame

AVIS Electronics company

FOSHAN ETERNA INTELLIGENT BATHROOM CO., LTD.

Reflectel

LumiDesign

Evervue USA Inc.

Videotree

Browse Full Report: https://www.grandviewresearch.com/industry-analysis/smart-mirror-market-report

[neha24blog]

Smart Mirror Market Segment Analysis By Installation Type, Application, Distribution Channel, Region And Forecast Till 2030 : Grand View Research Inc.

San Francisco, 15 June 2023: According to a new report by Grand View Research, Inc., the global smart mirror market is estimated to reach a valuation of USD 1,012.6 million by 2030, with a projected compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 8.8% from 2023 to 2030. The market’s expansion is driven by the increasing demand for smart home devices, which has significantly impacted the adoption of smart…

[electronalytics]

Smart Mirror Hardware Market

Smart Mirror Hardware Market

[market-insider]

Smart Mirrors Market: Transforming Reflections into Insights

A smart mirror is a technologically enhanced mirror that combines traditional mirror functionality with additional features enabled by digital technology. It typically consists of a two-way mirror with a screen behind it, embedded with a computer or a smart device. The mirror's surface allows reflection like a regular mirror, but when activated, it displays various types of digital content on the screen, such as time, weather updates, news headlines, calendars, and even social media feeds. The application of a smart mirror extends beyond its basic reflective purpose. It serves as a multifunctional device that provides valuable information and convenient access to data while getting ready in the morning or performing daily grooming routines. The mirror's display can be customized to show personalized information based on the user's preferences, such as reminders, fitness tracking, upcoming appointments, and even real-time traffic updates. Some smart mirrors also offer voice recognition capabilities, allowing users to interact with virtual assistants, control other smart devices in their homes, and even play music or videos.

Gain deeper insights on the market and receive your free copy with TOC now @: Smart Mirror Market Report

Smart mirrors are incorporating voice recognition technology, allowing users to interact with virtual assistants such as Amazon Alexa or Google Assistant. This integration enables hands-free control and access to information, making the user experience more convenient and seamless. They are becoming more interactive by integrating touch controls directly into the mirror surface. This enables users to navigate through various features and applications displayed on the mirror, providing a more intuitive and engaging user experience. Smart mirrors are being designed to function as a central control hub for other smart devices in the home. They can connect and control devices like smart lighting, thermostats, security systems, and audio systems, offering a unified interface to manage the connected ecosystem.

Retailers are leveraging smart mirrors to provide customers with virtual try-on experiences. Using augmented reality technology, users can virtually try on clothing, accessories, or even experiment with different hairstyles and makeup. This trend enhances the shopping experience, reduces physical trial-and-error, and encourages online purchases. They are focusing on providing personalized experiences by allowing users to customize the content and appearance of the mirror. Users can choose the widgets, apps, and information displayed, ensuring that the mirror caters to their specific needs and preferences. Smart mirrors are incorporating health and wellness features, such as fitness tracking and biometric sensors. These mirrors can display real-time health data, track workout progress, provide personalized exercise routines, and offer health tips, promoting a healthier lifestyle. Some smart mirrors include built-in cameras that can be used for various purposes, such as taking selfies, video conferencing, or monitoring security. These cameras can be seamlessly integrated into the mirror's design, adding functionality without compromising aesthetics.

[horowbath]

[syoddeye]

consequence / shopping

price x f!reader | 1.5k words series directory tags: stalking mention, white lies, jp fears no 'friend zone', entitled cats a/n: john price vs. his feelings. john price vs. old man allegations. john price vs. his barista . ☕

john’s grip tightens on the wheel as he turns onto her street. he’s imagined this moment since he set her in his sight. possessing the patience of a sniper comes in handy with endeavors such as this, and it’s good to pull a trigger that isn’t lethal for once.

she’s waiting outside. good girl.

nose-deep in her phone, she doesn’t notice him until he’s a building away. his heart jumps into his throat when her eyes lift, and her face follows. she squints, then shades her eyes with a hand. a smile breaks the mild confusion, and she rises to her feet from the steps outside her door.

he forces himself to relax, painfully aware of the intensity of his gaze. he can’t risk running her off, but he has to see it—the moment of realization.

~~

it cannot be the same car. calm down, you order yourself, plastering a small smile on your face as john rolls to a stop, grinning back through the window. it’s statistically impossible. there are thousands of cars in town, plenty of the same make and model. this is just the universe’s idea of a cruel joke: giving your favorite customer the same car you smashed your face and arm into. your good hand shakes as you open the door and sink into the passenger seat.

coincidences happen.

~~

“hey.”

“afternoon. you look nice.”

“yeah? i was worried you wouldn’t recognize me without the apron.” she says wryly, draping her bags over her lap.

i’ve memorized your face and more. which one would think would help decipher the minutiae of her expressions. does she recognize the car? remember it? she was drunk and crashed hard enough to break bone—fuck, he hadn’t thought of the effects of the impact. too caught up.

he watches her buckle, eyes falling to her cast. it’s filling with signatures fast. the space that held his number is covered in a drawing of a cat. all that remains is ‘john’. 

“did you draw over my number?”

“i didn’t think you’d want the free advertising.”

smart girl. the number isn’t traceable further than falsified records, but it's best to avoid nuisance. he lets the doodle eclipse his grand scheme and pretends to adjust the mirror. he’ll wait until the time is right. “that i don’t.”

the drive to her preferred market is ten minutes by car. she might’ve managed alone, but he’s done some of his best work in ten minutes. performed miracles and misdeeds. he spends this bit on recon.

he susses out a little more information about her life: she’s worked, on and off, as a barista for nearly a decade. she recently took in a kitten, the very one depicted on her arm, and named her chicken cutlet a tortoiseshell.

“it's all i had for food. now cece’s a snob.”

“points for uniqueness.” he grins and gestures at the doodle on her arm. though he doesn’t have much of an eye for art, it’s obviously stylized. “and creativity. bet you did her justice, like a regular artist.”

the comment, meant as a compliment, makes her wince. she ducks her head in poorly concealed shame, pretending to check something in her wallet. it comes out casually, like a weather report—she dropped out of an mfa program to move here, for the ex, a year ago.

the details resurrect his anger. 

the tremble in her hand tells him to leave it. he will. for now.

the car park is packed, and it’s all he can do to not celebrate when he finds a space on the first go. he cannot be much older than her, but he’d rather avoid feeding the ‘old man’ reputation his sergeants encourage.

she separates her reusable bags as they climb out of the car. “do you have any pets?”

he circles to her side and takes them without asking, “no. afraid my schedule doesn’t allow for it.”

“oh.” 

he beats her to the baskets, tossing her bags into the bottom, and she strolls past him. he traipses behind, head on a subtle swivel, inwardly tickled at how normal it feels. it’s not often he shops, let alone in the company of a bird. it makes him puff up. go a bit softer in the face, especially when a woman roughly his mother’s age gives them a long, wistful look in produce.

it’s nice playing house, even in the middle of a bustling supermarket, dodging the less spatially aware and rogue children. it strokes his ego to flex an arm over her head to reach the shelves she can’t and carry a bag of cat litter in the other. he cracks a joke about tinned fish, and though she doesn’t laugh, he can tell she wants to. how she ignores his suggestions and color commentary on other shoppers. it’s fascinating to watch her, all business, as if she were behind the coffee bar. tapping items off the list on her phone, triple-checking a recipe.

while she’s distracted, slowly loading the conveyor belt one item at a time, john pushes his luck. he slips his card and pays.

her focus breaks when she sidles up, reaching for her wallet, only for the cashier to offer the receipt. she takes it, confusion turning to understanding, and her jaw clenches. her thanks are muttered, and she promptly joins him in bagging what’s left.

he knows she’s upset before she speaks, practically punching items into the bag.

“please don’t do that again.” she whispers. “my wrist is broken. i am not broke.”

angry as she is, she sails out the doors without waiting. clearly expecting him to tote her bags like a porter and follow.

which he does, of course. it’s what he signed on for.

good view, at least.

the ride back to her place is quiet, but he feels the tension burning away with the light. it’s damn distracting how the sun plays off her skin and hair. ten minutes fly by. she turns to him as the car idles, a storm of thoughts in her eyes. severe, tempestuous, and pretty.

“park. you’re not off the clock.”

“yes, ma’am.”

the bag handles loop into one fist, and the litter rests on his shoulder. he beams, and with the complete confidence he usually carries himself, he starts up the steps of her building.

“uh…john?” 

he glances over his shoulder and sees her fidgeting at the bottom of the stairs.

“that’s…not actually my address.”

his brows raise, fall, and pinch in rapid succession. the minx. a fake address. smart.

she sheepishly apologizes on the walk to one street over and explains. 

“i mean, this part’s weird.” 

“what part?”

“befriending regulars,” she shrugs. “the counter’s there for a reason—to sling espresso, yeah, but it’s also a social barrier.”

“do you often befriend regulars?” he hopes not.

“god, no.”

thank christ. he’ll start memorizing faces on his next trip, just in case.

“but being polite to people is part of my job.”

he cracks a careful grin. “do you get reprimanded for that?”

her eyes roll. “ha. ha. no. my manager’s a coward and afraid of me. what i mean is, it’s a tightrope. be nice, but don’t be too nice to the wrong people, else they’ll stalk you or something.”

john’s gut tightens. what was his plan again? expose her? he manages a chuckle. “and am i one of those…wrong people?” effortless.

“well, you’re a minute from my kitchen with an invitation. so.” she smirks after a second. “are you fishing for a compliment? for me to say you’re special?”

heat shoots up his neck and colors his cheeks. “i am not–”

“relax. i’m joking. but you are the first customer i’ve brought back to my place.”

the phrasing instantly sets him on high alert. it could mean nothing. it could mean anything.

her place is markedly worse than her fake one. he does not like the look of the neighbors, but the exterior light reaches the walk. he bites his tongue when she veers to the side, cutting down a set of steep stairs to the basement. it won’t do, not long-term.

but the interior of her flat—it’s everything he did and did not expect. 

it’s sensibly furnished and lit to compensate for its floor plan and limited windows. it’s cozy and colorful, with artwork fixed to the walls and littering various surfaces. some pieces are more notable than others: tiny statuettes of women, a diptych of a cow, and a collage of what looks like found notes. in the living area, there is a console and a headset, a small collection of games and dvds, and ten too many knickknacks. a stuffed backpack occupies a seat at the table.

he moves mechanically behind her, toeing off his shoes and treading straight into the surprisingly decently sized kitchen. he sets the bags and litter down, rolling his shoulder as he soaks it all in.

might be his only chance, after all.

something bumps his shin. two big amber-colored eyes stare up at him, unblinking.

“you must be the famous cece.” 

“the one and only.”

the young cat weaves through his legs, then jumps, immediately sticking her pointy head into the bag containing the chicken. she meows, indignant, when her human automatically hooks her around the middle without looking and returns her to the floor.

“bad.” she murmurs, unpacking. “would you mind setting the litter next to the door down the hall?”  

john obeys, though he lingers outside of said door, staring through a crack into the dark of her room. she has a big, comfortable-looking bed. a shudder passes over him. an unhelpful throb. christ. feels like a fucking teenager. he pulls himself together, retreating toward the door to leave. probably overstayed his welcome.

just as he turns to say his goodbyes, she glares from the kitchen. around her neck, untied, hangs an apron—don’t be afraid to take whisks.

“where are you going? i’m making dinner.”

it’s not an invitation. it’s an order.

he slips his shoe off.

“yes, ma’am.”

[yeollie-plz]

Ever Since We Met, I Only Shoot Up With Your Perfume

Din Djarin x F! Reader

Synopsis: You receive a new perfume, Din really likes your new perfume.

Genre: fluff, smut

Warnings: pheromone perfume, its giving sex pollen without the sex pollen, p in v sex, unprotected sex, thigh riding

Gif credits to owners!

"Hey you!" A voice called out from the alley way to your left, you turn your head in search of the face that matched the sound. Meeting eyes with an older woman, her face hiding slightly in the shadows.

"You look like you're in love." This statement stops you dead in your tracks, how did she know that? You can't stop your eyes from widening slightly, your jaw turning slack at the woman's words.

You and Din had been traveling together for a while. You also have had a crush on Din for almost as long. Only recently has that crush came more to the surfaced, with his own confession of affection. It hasn't really turned it much yet, but yes, you were in love.

"He doesn't love you back...no wait-" She pauses, scanning your face "-He does...you're just taking your time." She smirks now, almost like she knows she's right. Its annoying that she is.

"I've got something for you." You still haven't replied to her, yet she continues to talk, and yet you continue to stay watching her carefully.

Pushing a small white bottle towards you, she shakes it, almost like she's tempting you with it. But you aren't swayed that easily, you stand there, defensive. She lets out a laugh.

"Take it, I got chased away from the market. It used to be a huge seller! But you, you need it. Take it." She shakes it again.

"I don't usually take things from ladies in alley ways." You finally speak, her eyes gleam at your words.

"Smart rule." She stands there contemplating her words, "Listen, its perfume. It'll-it'll help you with your... Mandalorian?" Her eyes snap up to the figure that has suddenly appeared behind you. Her words mirror her shock. Glancing behind you, you confirm that it is a Mandalorian. Your Mandalorian, in fact.

"Trouble, cyar'ika?" Din says, his tin-like words coming through his helmet. The sound shocks the woman slightly, she stumbles back. Uncharacteristic of the woman that was once so confident in front of you.

"No, no trouble." You turn to look at him, eyes soft as they stare into the beskar of his helmet. A hand comes up to touch his chest plate, a gesture intended to calm him down, but little do you know it makes his heart beat faster.

Turning back to the woman, who is now hurriedly gathering all her things. She shoves the bottle into your hand and rushes off as quickly as she showed up.

"I feel like she had a bounty out on her or something." You say more to yourself than to Din. He grunts in response, eyes trained to where the woman disappeared into the dark.

"What did she give you?" He is now looking down at the bottle in your hand. The concern very evident.

"Just perfume, said it would help me?" You shrug and push past his large form, making your way back to the ship. He follows behind you like a puppy, trailing on your heels. Despite your nonchalant reaction to the gift, Din can't help but be a bit apprehensive.

When you awoke the next day, you got ready like usual, but as you passed the tiny white bottle, it glinted in the sun. The shine drew your eye to the glass. It was almost as if the woman was whispering to you now, "Put it on." You shrugged and picked up the bottle, spraying a bit onto your wrist to test the scent. You sniffed the spot, trying to discern the smell. Nothing. It smelt like nothing?

No, that can't be it. All that just for it to smell like nothing. Maybe it was just mild, maybe you needed to put more on. Yes, that was it. You picked up the bottle once again and sprayed it all over you, making sure to use a good amount. Sniffing the air, you still didn't smell much. No way, you were scammed!

Well, you didn't actually pay her anything, so was it really a scam? You shook your head in disbelief. It wasn't poison, right? Your heart beat faster in fear, maybe it was poison and you just willingly covered yourself in it.

Shaking your head at your silliness, you ignored the pit in your stomach at the thought. Why would someone be trying to poison you? Yes, the old lady was very persistent, but somehow you trusted her. It just must not be that strong of a scent, that had to be it.

As you made your way to the helm, you found Din standing with his back to you, messing with something on the console. He turned as he heard your footsteps approaching him. You didn't know it but a smile formed on his face as you came into view.

Settling yourself into the pilot's seat, his helmet tilted at you in question. It was something the two of you would do almost everyday. You'd steal his seat, making yourself comfortable, until he grumbled at you to move. It was almost like a game at this point. He would never admit it but he liked the way you looked sitting there. He could just picture himself under you...

He shook his head, trying to get the image out of it. Pretending to go back to what he was doing, he slowly worked his way towards you. Din just wanted to be closer to you in any way he could. But as he side stepped in front of you, a new scent wafted towards him. It flooded his senses, vision blackened, lust washed over him. What was this?

"Uhm...did you use that new perfume?" He questioned. Your eyes narrowed at the back of his head, while he continued to fiddle with some buttons.

"I did, but it didn't smell like much so I don't think I'll use it again." You shrugged, looking down at your nails. He abruptly turned around, the speed of the action caused you to look back up at him.

"I think you should keep wearing it." He said definitively. Eyebrows furrowing, you tried to read his body language.

"Oh, okay then? I'm gonna go get some work done." You said, confused by his actions. You got up and wandered away, not sure what to do with the way Din was acting.

Almost a week went by, and at Din's request you continued to wear the perfume. The scent never seemed to get stronger for you, but your confusion did. Because every time you walked into the room, Din almost melted. As the perfume wafted towards him, all his reservations diminished. It took everything in him to not just take you the moment he smelt you. And every night he would touch himself to the thought of you.

He wanted to push you down on the console, have you like putty in his hands. Dripping all over him, fucking you so hard you forgot your own name. Anything to touch you. Anything to have you touch him. Anything to relieve this...spell.

"Din?" You questioned from the doorway. This finally snapped him out of his thoughts, as he turned to look at you. If the scent had him already begging for you, the way you looked right now had him on his knees. You were stood there in nothing but a nightdress, the material of which left almost nothing to the imagination.

"I've been calling you." You laughed, his body melted at the sound. You didn't seem to notice.

"Sorry, I'm just in my own world over here." He couldn't take this anymore, the push and pull was all too much for him. He needed to fell you and soon. His body craved yours.

Slowly he stepped closer to you, helmet dropped to the soft spot of your shoulder. The cold of his helmet sent a shiver down your spine, as he breathed you in right over your pressure point.

"You smell so good." He muttered metallically into your neck. Another shiver racked down your body.

"Din..." You whimpered, your own constraints snapping with his proximity. Although you had wanted it and thought about it for a while, it still scared you to take that step with Din. But you wanted him...needed him in this moment.

Its like he can read your mind, "Need you." He now mumbles out, still breathing in your scent.

"Me too." With this confirmation, he lifts his head. His visor meeting your eyes, trying to read them. You let yours bore into his, trying to work past the black to prove you really did want this.

"Need you." You mirror his words and that's all he needs before he is picking you up like you are nothing and carrying you into his quarters. He throws you onto his bed, hands instantly finding purchase with your flushed body.

Din starts at your stomach, letting his fingers move slowly up until they are kneading your breasts. Massaging them expertly, the soft material of your dress adding to the sensitivity. He tweaks one nipple, causing your hips to buck up into his thigh that is slotted between your legs.

His hands stop, "Careful, mesh'la."

That's all the warning you need to try and keep yourself in check. The darkness of his voice and his desperate actions making you realize he's not one to mess with tonight. Not that you're complaining, you want him to use you.

One hand returns to your breast, abandoning it's previous mission. The other continues it, making its way don your legs. It ghosts over your sensitive mound and you can't help but let your hips buck up again. He tsks at you through the beskar.

"Told you to be careful. But I know my baby is so desperate for me right now, so why don't you show me. Show me how badly you want this cock."

He backs off of you and you almost whimper at the loss of body heat. He takes off his chest plate and leg plates, leaving only his under armor. His body seemed so defined without all that heavy armor.

Leaving his helmet and arm plates, he sits on the bed resting his back on the wall behind the bed. He pats his thigh, showing you what he wants you to do. Complying almost instantly you saunter over to him.

Not sure if you should undress, you decide against it as to not get yourself in more trouble. Instead, you hike your dress up your thighs, flashing your panties to him before settling over his thigh. His eyes darken at the sight, if only you could see them.

Din's hands find purchase of your hips and start to work your soaked core on his thigh. He flexes it as you begin to gain your own rhythm, now only using his hands as support.

Your speed increases as you begin to near your peak. You can't believe you are this worked up just from him barely touching you. Kriff, the things this man does to you.

He continues to flex underneath you, the feeling makes it so much more heightened. You stroke your core against his muscles, knowing how much he wants this too. Movements begin to falter and Din seems to notice this. Using his hand to help keep your pace up, the other finds your breast again massaging it to help you closer to your orgasm.

You gasp out, hands pushing through your hair as you arch your back. Your orgasm finally washing over you. The feeling so intense after months of not having one. The initial shocks subside and you fall into his chest, his very warm and hard chest you note.

He lifts you up off his thigh and places you stomach down onto the bed. Ripping your panties off of your body, causing you to gasp. Your head looks back at him as he stands, looking down at the wet spot on his pants.

He tuts quietly, "Dirty girl, why don't you spread those legs for me? I need to be inside you."

Legs spread apart, revealing your dripping pussy to him. He strips his pants, revealing his own hard member to you. Your eyes widen at this sight, gulping down the lump in your throat. When you decided to fuck Din, you didn't know you were getting into something that big!

Stepping towards you, he strokes his dick, making sure it is hard enough. Although he knew that wasn't really a problem with all that has happened so far. He teases your entrance with his member, getting it a bit lubed up to make the stretch a little better for you.

"I'm gonna fuck you now. I'm only saying this because once I start, I won't be able to stop." You almost laugh at his warning, like you would want him to stop!

Even so, you give him his confirmation, "I want you, Din."

That's all he needs, pushing his tip into you. You can tell it's taking everything in him not to just force himself in past your walls. You appreciate the gesture, but in this moment you would take anything he were to give you.

Once he has decided that you have adjusted enough, he pushes in more and more slowly, letting you feel all of him. Bottoming out, he gives you just a second to adjust this time before he can't take it anymore. He's pulling out to his tip and fucking back into you roughly.

Your body jerks forward as he roughly fucks into you. He pulls out slowly just to push back in, hitting your cervix every time. Din lifts your hips to find a new angle in you. This new angle causes his dick to hit right on your g spot. The feeling has your whimpering and almost drooling, already rapidly approaching another orgasm.

Din can tell to as your cunt clenches onto his dick, "Gonna cum for me again aren't you, cyar'ika?"

You can only whimper in response as your pussy clenches once again, he chuckles at you. You don't have the time to be mad at his laughing, before his hand is making contact with your clit and your orgasm is washing over your body. Your vision turns white as you involuntarily shake with the force of your orgasm.

Before you have fully recovered from the feeling, Din is pulling out, instantly making you overstimulated. But he doesn't seem to notice the way you groan out quietly or the jerk of your hips. He is too busy flipping you over and moving your legs up to his shoulders. Pushing his dick into you again, he continues his assault on your now even more sensitive pussy.

His pace is faster now, a sign that he is also getting close to his peak. Hands holding onto your ankles, knowing you are too weak to do it yourself. His hips are rolling into your yours as he thrusts, hitting your clit while he fucks you.

"Next time, I'm going to taste you, mesh'la." He grunts while thrusting into you. The words and feeling cause you to moan.

"Come on, baby, one more for me." His pace has slowed only slightly so he can gauge your reaction. Your face reels with a bit of pain at the thought, but quickly recovers.

"You can do it." He urges and goes back to his previous pace. One hand now finding your clit, moving it in circles to draw you closer to your third orgasm.

Although your body was spent and you weren't sure you could do it, he was. And he was determined to do everything in his power to get you over your edge one more time.

His thumb continues to circle your clit, pressing on the bud roughly. With a clench of your pussy on his dick, he is moving his digit faster and fucking you harder (if that was even possible). That's when the wave washes over you once again. This time your eyes roll back as your back arches off of the bed. Hips meet his and head knocks back at the feeling.

The feeling of your pussy and the look at your pleasured body, throws Din also over his edge as he finishes inside of you. Hips beginning to stutter as he fills you with his spend. He bottoms out into you once more, keeping his dick there.

You are still coming down from your high when you notice that he is still inside of you. Head tilting in confusion at him.

"Making sure you know who you belong to." He says, knowing what you were gesturing at. Finally pulling out, much to his dismay, he helps you lets your legs relax. Knowing they are probably sore, he massages them lightly.

Both of you are laying there, now content and completely fucked out. When a thought comes to your head. You sit up quickly with a gasp. Obviously now very concerned, Din sits up too.

"I know what the lady was talking about now." You say, like it all made so much sense now.

"What?" He questions, obviously not getting it.

"The perfume lady! She said the perfume would help me! I get it now!" He sits there at your confession, still confused.

You sigh, "It must be some sort of perfume that only appeals to you! I couldn't smell it, but you loved it!" He hums, starting to understand it now.

"And it did help me!" You laugh, "It helped me get laid!"

[neha24blog]

Smart Mirror Market Trends Analysis Report By Route Of Installation Type, Application, Distribution Channel, Region And Forecast To 2030 : Grand View Research Inc.

Smart Mirror Market Trends Analysis Report By Route Of Installation Type, Application, Distribution Channel, Region And Forecast To 2030 : Grand View Research Inc.

San Francisco, 26 Dec 2022: The Report Smart Mirror Market Size, Share & Trends Analysis Report By Application (Residential, Commercial), By Installation Type (Wall-mounted, Free-standing), By Distribution Channel (Online, Offline), And Segment Forecasts, 2022 – 2030 The global smart mirror market size is estimated to reach USD 1.01 billion in 2030 and is expected to grow at a CAGR of 8.8% from…

[doublel27]

So I’m still trapped in Jack and Joker. Specifically, the ways the personalities of Tattoo, Jack and Save alter the ways that they approach the same goal: protecting the person (or people) that matters to them most.

Tattoo is impulsive. He’s a talented engineer, but all of his decisions when it comes to stealing the necklace and getting out and betraying his friends is based on the opportunity presenting itself. He’s shaken after Hope threatens his mother next. It’s clear she’s the most important person in his world, even if they don’t fully understand each other. His decisions are very much of the moment and focused on getting his mom out (and Hoy if Hoy will go). He’s fine with doing a bad thing to get out because it’s the only way to survive.

Jack on the other hand is lawful and rational. He will try every avenue to get out which is why Boss has to hem him in and out smart him (and he has help). Boss knows Jack won’t go outside the bounds of his own morality to solve a problem but if you can make him worried enough about others, you can bend him within those bounds. When he feels he has no other choice of how to solve the problem of getting money but to rejoin Boss Jack does. Yes, Joke would help him in a heartbeat, and tried going to his dad. But Jack would never ask or let Joke go back to stealing. It would break the promise Jack asked for and break his own moral code that Jack tries to live within while Boss lives in a world with no codes. And it’s why every threat made to Grandma and Joke pushes him to decide to do what he can to protect them and distance them from his own danger.

Which then leads us to Save, who is cold and calculated, and the only objective he has is saving Hope. The moment Save found hope bloodied and unconscious in the floor of his house, he decided he would do whatever is necessary to save him. Now it’s clear he regrets these choices and that they’re done with a heavy heart, but Save’s world is Hope no matter how much he pretends otherwise. Joke is an interloper who has upset the status quo of their neighborhood and has lead to Hope being nearly beaten to death. It’s personal and not personal all at the same time because it’s only about Hope and saving him.

And then it’s interesting how some of these defining characteristics are mirrored in their current/potential partners, in terms of their goals and how they operate.

In the same way Tattoo is focused on his mother and saving her, Aran’s focus for the first half is getting back the necklace, a major connection to his mother. For all of his ego and spoiled behavior, Aran is looking for the love and respect of his family. It’s his father taking away the necklace and nearly killing hope that sends Aran out of the house. And it’s altering the path of things.

While Joke’s thieving does not fall within Jack’s lawful stance, he’s also driven by a morality that dictates his actions. Joke has always had very specific criteria for who he steals from and what he steals. It’s his disdain for the wealthy and the elite that drove the majority of his jobs. He was angry with Tattoo for both the impulse stealing of Aran’s mom’s necklace and going to the black market pawn shop that has long profited off of stolen goods and misery. Going about it differently, Joke aligns with Jack in this way and it’s why he’s so angry that Jack goes back to Boss, because he sees Jack rejoining a man who stands for everything they hate.

And then Hope mirrors Save in that I’m pretty sure Save is his whole world. He’s built his life around being strong enough and big enough to fight anyone that dares to hurt Save. Hope then turned that into his job for Boss. I have so many questions about what of Hope’s Boss has on him. Mostly because Hope openly said in ep 2 if he was guarding his collateral he would take it and be out of there so fast. He was certain that Jack stole the ring because it is exactly what Hope has done. He’s talked about running away with Save multiple times. Hope enjoys beating people up, yes, but it’s what he’s good at. It’s the thing he thinks makes him valuable, to Save first and then to Boss. He doesn’t mind getting the shit kicked out of him either, as long as Save is okay.

Anyway, I’m not normal about any of them.

[soraviie]

they're possessive.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader    ━ navigation

━ about: angst with a side of spice, slight humour idk I just be doing shit

━  pictures taken from Pinterest

━ what y'all think of this one? please let me know

NAMJOON | A greedy, spiteful, spindling arm comes up on your waist, pressing you tightly against its just as equally greedy and spiteful owner's form. While aggravating, the gesture is of no surprise. You don't even jump when the grip begins to press more on your ribs than you'd necessarily like. You drive an elbow into his side, momentarily meeting those narrowed eyes of his.

You're annoying.

I don't like him.

Am I supposed to care that you don't like him?

The argument is held entirely mute. He knows you know and you know he knows though poor Daniel — he's all together clueless.

"Hello, you must be...uh, ____________'s boyfriend? Right?"

Delicately, you snort in your palm, immediately sensing the way Namjoon's muscles tense on the other side of your blouse. The heat of his palm resting on the small of your back is scorching.

And whether it's from that or the minuscule way his jaw clenches, repeatedly coming to a brutal grind to then release only for the motion to repeat in endless circles; whether it was the tightness of the smile — there's a tight tick at the gap in the small space between his mouth curving upwards and his cheek that says he's not actually smiling despite appearing very much so — or whether it was something as simple as the fact that his eyes had been tracking your every minute for a solid piece of ten minutes now that delivers this easy deduction right in your lap.

He's into one of those moods.

There's a distinct coldness in his eye, a sort of a less than impressed expression that anyone, even someone so generally lost as Daniel could pick up on.

"We were just talking about the role of guilt and class consciousness," he trails off, squeaking slightly at the very end. You don't exactly fault him for it. Having a large man towering over you, feasibly blowing smoke out of his nose would put anyone ill at ease. "In....s-sustainability m-m-marketing. Yes."

"Smart, my ______________, right?" Namjoon chuckles to himself lowly. Daniel echoes the laugh, regardless, of how nervous the cadence of his voice is. Once again you don't fault him for it. A stranger would have no trouble believing that Namjoon's laughter is in good faith. He's honed the subtle art of being a fake a little bitch but you who knows better...well, you know better. You know that the kiss your darling — your huffing, festering, seething darling — presses upon your temple is far from good faith. The way his fingers squeeze your grip, all greed and jealousy, is so far from good faith it's downright atheist.

"They a-are," Daniel stammers, gaze flitting between Namjoon and you. Stupidly he's fallen into the trap.

"So you like my ___________?" he wilts underneath the weight of Namjoon's glare. "My ____________?"

Fed up with the nonsense, you push his hand away. His head darts to sit on the floor.

"Just go," you order Daniel and without hesitation, the coward scurries off to the dark dingy corner he came from. So perhaps you also didn't like him, it still wasn't a reason to act like that. And Namjoon knows this because though obstinate, there is a bashful glimmer that prohibits him from looking you in the eye.

"Your ____________?" you scoff. "Presumptious, no?"

"No," he spits. The lights flash overhead, a cacophony of colours that's mirrored in the dark of his stare that's abruptly grows fixated on your face. The room reeks of champagne, stale air and someone's vape smoke and this man stands in front of you — annoying, determined, aggravating and he loves you.

And because you love him just as much you let it slide with the only protest offered being an eye roll.

"You are mine."

YOONGI | "Do you...want to have a drink?"

His entire silhouette is downturned. Had you been an uninvested bystander you'd probably call his pouting expression comical because how does one manage to look that sullen in the middle of his own award ceremony. But alas you're not an uninvested bystander, you're a confused person thrown in the midst of your partner's raging emotions.

He doesn't speak for such a long time you're ready to open your mouth again, certain that he simply didn't hear your offer but then he answers, quiet and lifeless:

"No, thank you."

You observe his hands. His hands that do the speaking when his mouth cannot and unsurprisingly, you find them quite anxious. His nails rip at the bed of his skin, pulling the strips one by one. You cringe at the sight and place your palm upon his however when he fails to move, you pull back. So he doesn't want to talk.

Surreptiously, you scooch away, giving Yoongi his space but like a bullet he darts out his hand to catch you by the elbow, pulling you back down.

A singular "please don't" that dies somewhere in his throat barely manages to reach your ears, nonetheless, you oblige and the tension in his rounded shoulders eases, if a bit.

Safe to say the walk back home was awkward.

"You're..." he speaks so suddenly, you jolt hearing his voice in the otherwise deadly silent staircase. "I thought I was always the first one you sent your lyrics to?"

It's such a weird question that you stop dead in the tracks and half turn to him on the overtly glamorous stairs to his penthouse. You never did like them. And now he's standing here atop of these stairs wearing a multitude expressions that simultaneously reveal everything and nothing. The line of his mouth is set down — grim and annoyed, his eyes are turned at an angle — the one that meant trouble, deep trouble yet the look within them was sad. You'd call it insecure though never aloud knowing he didn't appreciate such a thing.

"You're the first proper person I sent them to."

"Proper," he scoffs. "Is she not proper? Standing on a stage, receiving award for the song with your lyrics."

"She wasn't back then. Back then we were just dreaming idiots while you were already a star," you justify. He doesn't seem to like the explanation.

"Those lyrics meant so much to me, you know," he breaks. Not a lot but just enough, a break in the otherwise pungent dark. "It was as though you'd pried my ribcage open and prodded at my heart. I've never felt so...bare."

Automatically, you let out "I'm sorry" despite not knowing what you're apologising for. A bad habit he'd previously chided you for. He shakes his head either saying there's no need to say sorry or rejecting it altogether.

"Are you angry with me?"

Yoongi breathes a long, strained sigh, dejectedly shaking his head.

"No...no, it's not you I'm mad at."

"Then who?"

He fails to answer, instead choosing to run up the stairs where you were starting and to your surprise taking your hand into his.

Leading you back home, he asks, all casual:

"You love me...right?"

"Of course, I do!" offended, you retort. "What kind of qu-!"

"Say it out loud."

"What?"

"Say out loud that you love me. That you're mine."

To further feign his relaxed state, he begs for this whilst punching in the code for the doors — each ding of the number dragging on and on in the stilted air of the hallway.

"Please, say it."

You give a small smile and lean into his arm. You finally get it.

"I love you and I'm yours. Don't worry."

Not much is spoken after that.

JIN | "Let's just do it, okay?"

"Huh?!"

His eyes widen, clearly mocking your outrage as lithe hands press the bowl out of your fingers, dragging you by the sleeve out of the country house. The morning is utterly fresh. Birds shriek and lilt their songs, perched just outside the window on the growing orchard, dew still glistens in the green grass and the world is at peace.

Or it was.

Before this demon decided to ruin your life.

As per freaking usual.

"I meant let's get the berries, you pervert," he dares to roll his eyes. You try to break free of his grasp but just like anchors board ships the strength of his clutch is unbreakable.

"It's 7 in the morning, Seokjin!"

"Seokjin," he echoes derisively. "No one calls me Seokjin."

"Lots of people do!"

"Then how about you don't."

"Ok, Mr Kim, whatever you say."

"That's even wor-no, actually on a second thought, I like it."

"Ugh, you're disgusting!" you snap, whilst for reasons unbeknownst to yourself still putting on shoes and a shawl. It's not like he even was your friend. The relationship you two shared in between the confusing circle of relatives, friends and acquaintances was exactly that — confusing. He was a friend of your cousin, somehow, a God's joke if anything, and hence why you found yourself be dragged by him in the rustic country house in the throes of upcoming summer. Funnily enough when he'd been introduced to you, Seokjin was presented as "shy and introverted, wouldn't hurt a fly, wouldn't speak a word". It had turned out to be the furthest thing from the truth. At least when it came to you. It was as though it was his life's mission bestowed from the ancestors to grate every single one of your nerves.

"Disgustingly handsome," he brushes off, unconcerned by your low growls and huffs of protest. Footsteps tremble the old wooden stairs underneath your butt, signaling a possible saviour.

"What are you guys up to so early?" Jae rubs the sleep out of his eyes, coming to stand before you and dropping his drooling head upon your shoulder. You welcome your head with energy never displayed before and Jin's expressions grows frighteningly lax.

"They squeezed this guy's head too hard in the military," you throw a thumb at his bristling figure. "He's lost it."

But Jin doesn't laugh instead his nose scrunches as though he'd smelt something deeply affronting all the while his eyes don't leave Jae. Suddenly he reaches to pry Jae's fingers away from your shoulder, gently albeit firmly guiding you away.

"This one needs some fresh air," he stiffly belts out and before you know it you're both out of the door. The fresh air is indeed nice — it hits you like a pleasant wall and rubbing at your tired eyes, you shuffle in the general direction where there was a splotch of green growth — raspberries, blackberries, gooseberries, though the latter Jin didn't trust at all.

You trudge along in silence, battling the thorny undergrowth along the well-trodden narrow path snaking through the field. However, the closer you get to the berries, the more fuss Jin puts up.

"They'll eat me alive!" he cries out, violently shooing away the black masses of hungry mosquitoes. "I'm too delicious to be out here!"

You perch a hand on your hip, giving him a thoroughly disapproving glare.

"If you were going to complain about coming here, why even bother?"

"Well how else was I supposed to get you all to myself?"

You think that even birds fall quiet hearing that.

"...what?"

"What?"

You both blink at each other.

"You...you want me...all to yourself?"

Jin laughs abruptly, the sound falling strained and nervous and in the soft light of the rising sun, his neck begins to glow bright red.

"Haha what nonsense," he chortles. "I see you're getting delusional, dear."

"What?!"

"WHAT?!"

Like a deer caught in headlights, Jin stands before you, hyperventilating slightly and letting the mosquitos, just as he said, eat him alive.

"Dear?" you arch an eyebrow. "I'm your "dear" now?"

"No. You're a "deer" you misheard."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"You don't make any sense."

"No, you."

"No, you!"

"What are you five years old," you mutter underneath the nose before erupting into a teasing smile, curling a finger around a non-existent strand of hair. "So you want me all to yourself, huh? How flattering."

Jin rolls his eyes, once again swinging his arms around like some crazed caveman.

"We're going home now," he orders gruffly, turning on the heel.

"Jae's at home."

At the mention of your supposedly mutual friend, his expressions grows stormy once more and reaching backwards, he wraps his fingers around your wrist.

"Then we're going somewhere else," through gritted teeth, he pushes out, legs falling and rising, creating an angry stomp to which you titter along with.

"Oooooh, so you can have me all alone?"

He casts you a wicked glance from the corner of the eye, ultimately shrugging at the suggestion.

"Not really, I left the condom at home. But if you feel risky I'm down."

HOSEOK | After the fourth hour of being forced to listen to rock music at ear-splitting volume, Yoongi had enough and with an egregious sigh of displeasure, he rolled out of his studio and went to Hoseok's cave of misery.

Without knocking, he opened the doors, nearly crumbling from the force of the bass.

"DO YOU MIND NOT MAKING EVERYONE DEAF?!"

Very slowly as though pulled from a deep haze, Hoseok turned around, blinked for a while and only then understood the request.

"Sorry," he muttered, turning down the volume.

Yoongi examined him before letting out another sigh.

"If you're that worried about __________'s ex just tell them to dump the stupid reconciliation thing and return home."

"That's not what I do."

"And what do you do, Hoseok? Suffer in silence?"

The lone figure, illuminated only by the cold light of the laptop before him, didn't answer and Yoongi didn't prod any more.

"Just don't end up regretting it."

With those words reverberating through his head, Hoseok found himself running through the downtown streets, in search for even a sliver of you. A strand of hair, the corner of your jacket — anything. When at last he did, he found you happy, in the arms of another.

No.

No, he doesn't think so.

"You're so sweet," you muttered into his neck as he let himself be angry, glaring hatefully at the dark ceiling. The grip he had on both of your hips will undoubtedly leave bruises but selfishly he couldn't bring himself to care. If anything he wanted more. People couldn't be trusted, they would try and with him being away so much...why shouldn't he mark you up all nice and pretty so people who didn't deserve you wouldn't bother you...

He digs his fingers deep into the flesh.

"Wrong thing to say," Hoseok growls. "I'm really pissed off."

"What I mean is you have nothing to worry about," you defend hastily as you cup his face in your palms. Hoseok would like to say he felt so much better, that the little monster clawing on his chest would be satiated with the sacrifice but it was far from so. "I'm yours and only yours."

"Well, obviously I know that. How about we make sure others know that as well?"

JIMIN | The slam of both doors comes at a perfect time, creating a singular, decisive cannon shot of "BANG" and then there was silence. In times like these, you praised your past self in choosing the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. You doubted you could go out there - in the cold and heartless battlefield.

It was in the middle of the night, in the midst of a restless, frowning sleep that you hear the bedroom doors crack open. The left upper hinge was faulty, it creaked too much every single time. You always promised to take a look at it but in the end you never did.

Cautiously, fearing your wrathful outburst, a hand brushes over the covers and a warm weight evens the other side of the bed. He knows you're awake and he knows you know but still for a moment you pretend to sleep. An apologetic kiss is pressed against your jaw line; those two hands, now emboldened by your inaction come to rest around your form, wrapping you up like spiders did the witless flies flying into their webs.

"Why are you like this?" you ask him, not daring to give even a single glance backwards. It was always easier to speak if Jimin remained faceless. "Have I ever given you a reason to distrust me? To check me like this?"

"You know it's not yo-"

"Don't tell me "it's not you but me". That's bullshit."

"But it is me," he argues, blowing a harsh exhale of working up anger. It moves your hair and you sink tiredly into the mattress.

Two hands sneak their way underneath the covers, finding the warm flesh and then pressing it closer into him like he wants to mould you into him. Create one creature out of two.

"I'm sorry," you can hear the wistful sadness in his voice. "Do you think I'm crazy?"

"No. Not crazy. Just...lonely. Complicated."

"Complicated," Jimin echoes with a faint mutter. "Are we..."complicated"?"

"I don't know what we are."

Silence envelopes the room until at last you gather enough courage to look at him, settling on the other hip. The room is dark so it's hard to see and know for certain but you know it. Like a piece of some inherent knowledge stored in the marrow of your bones, you know the expressions marring his face. Anger — churning and acrid, loneliness — bitter and all enveloping.

Adoration — suffocating and sickening.

Yearning — stinging and all consuming.

Wish for you to live better than this, have better than these meaningless arguments spinning round and round with no reprieve — soft, selfless, devoted.

Jimin was all around a confusing man as if whoever made him didn't know how much to put into him so they poured everything into this one person and so he was everything.

"What am I supposed to do with you?" you sigh, tracing the side of his cheek. Readily he accepts the slight touch, nuzzling into it like a stray cat would after overcoming the initial fright fueled by disappointing past.

"Be gentle with me, please. Be kind."

"You were not kind."

His gaze darts downwards, embroiled in deep shame.

"I don't share. I don't want to share," spitefully, he mumbles, brows coming to knit together in a frown. "Why should I? You're mine. Only mine. Like I'm only yours."

"I don't get jealou-"

"But I want you to."

A pause. His fingers come up to lay upon your palm where he intertwines your fingers, perhaps so you couldn't escape. Not that you even considered.

"I want you to be jealous. I want you to be possessive. Just like I am. So I wouldn't feel guilty," he pulls in a shuddering breath, almost chickening out but then saying it after all. "So I would feel wanted."

"Oh, Jimin," you breathe yet another sigh but decide to not argue anymore.

TAEHYUNG | Whilst the legs clamping down on yours and preventing you from making a grandious exit of his apartment, doors slamming shut and everything, are present, a clearly discernible expression on his face is extremely lacking.

With features carved of stone, Taehyung sits on the other couch, pretending you were not even there, save for the occasional muscle flexing in his legs to keep yours locked in between his. For over an hour not a word was spoken, not a glance exchanged. Even Tannie grew fed up with the display and took his nap to the plush bed in the corner.

"This is ridiculous," you scoff, once your tailbone began to feel too numb. "My moving in was supposed to put an end to your...episodes."

He doesn't speak but you could almost swear that the vitriolic way his lips curl, he was mutely mocking your choice of words.

"It's like you're depressed."

"I am depressed," obstinately, he agrees, voice rumbling a low, irritated register.

"What for?"

"Well, I guess I just find it hard to get past the fact that the love of my life, my moon and stars," he accentuates the words with an intention you're too annoyed to grasp. "One who has agreed to be my spouse one day keeps flirting with a man clearly infatuated with them."

"Oh, for the love of god," you cry out, throwing your hands up in the air. "Yes, he has a thing for me but I shut it down. I known him since we were kids!"

"No, please, rub it in some more," theatrically, Taehyung grumbles. "Rub in the fact that we we raised different and that I lost so much time with you for no other reason than our mothers popped us out on two separate geographical locations."

"Did your mother also drop you a lot?" you hiss. "Because there has to be a clinical explanation why you're so...so...!"

"So what?" utterly calm, he cocks an eyebrow at you and you know you had swam into deep, infested waters but still you spit it out.

"So...possessive! I hate you!"

You whip around, arms crossed, determined to sulk for a year if needed.

"Hate me?" Taehyung laughs but there is no mirth to be had or reflected be it his voice, posture or gaze. "As if. You're sitting here in between my legs not forcing me away, not even trying to set yourself free because...you hate me?"

You loathe it when he's baseless and even more when he isn't.

"Would you let me go then?" you spite him but he meets your disdain in equal if not surpassing measure.

"Let you go?" he inclines his head as if the suggestion in itself is ludicrous. "No, I don't think so."

"How dare you?!"

"Perhaps I phrased it the wrong way," firmly, he stares you down. You were fairly sure there were more agreeable cliffs you could rather take on. "I mean it would be entirely pointless for me to let you go or for us to part since we both know you'll come crawling back to me and I'll be doing the same. The end result never changes so why waste our time?"

Ah, yes, the breakup. The one forbidden topic no one ever brought up. The one that whenever just mentioned made Taehyung cry and you grow red with rage. Thus you rage.

"Well do you want to repeat that? Is that what you want by acting like this?!"

But Taehyung doesn't even bat an eye.

"I understand your outrage," he states coldly. "But whatever the reason, you and I will sort out our differences and live happily ever after."

"Is this you sorting things out?!" you let your voice rise into a painful shriek, pointing heatedly at where he'd folded his legs over yours, prohibiting you from simply storming out. After a prolonged stare down, languidly he lets up, putting his hands up in a supposed defeat. Though it sure felt like a bout of attitude.

"There. You're free now. Want to run away?"

"I'm not the one who runs away."

His jaw clenches in a death grip and for a second the pain in his face, makes a person you knew best entirely unrecognizable.

"Okay, you want the truth? You want the hard, honest truth?"

"If you're even capable of that," you sneer.

"The fact is everyone in your life, including your mother has told me, to my face that I'm not worthy of you. That I'll never be right enough for you. That I'm stealing you away from your beautiful, pre-determined path of being with your childhood best friend. Of staying in your home. And seeing how hard you struggle to fit in here, I realize that I'll never be enough. I'll never be able to soothe your aches that I myself caused by bringing you here. So I shout to the world, to them, to myself, to you that you're mine because lately I'm beginning to feel like each passing moment you're slipping through the cracks of my fingers. I'm getting desperate and that's why I'm depressed. Is that so unreasonable?"

By the end of it, his chest is heaving up and down, barely gathering enough breath to power through the breakdown. You wet your dry lips, sinking listlessly into the sofa.

"Why didn't you just tell me?"

He drops his head on the backrest, lips curling downward. He really is depressed.

"Despite how I may feel about them, you still love all of these people. They're your support system, one I cannot replace. I just wanted you to be happy."

You sit on your respective ends, mulling your own thoughts. Still sulking, you touch his pinky, curious if Taehyung will accept the gesture. He doesn't look at you but immediately his own little finger wraps around yours.

JUNGKOOK | "You're a caveman!"

"Whatever."

"A chauvinist!"

"Sure."

You hit him square in the chest. It does fuck all.

"Gym rat," you mumble sullenly, begrudgingly accepting your bitter fate of being used as a pillow. It's not like you had even plans to go anywhere but finding yourself restricted because of this weirdo was completely different than just simply being lazy.

"That's not even an insult."

"I feel like a hero trapped by a creepy villain," you continue to fuss but Jungkook who has all of his limbs wrapped around you like a human cage appears mighty relaxed. His eyes are closed, there's a smirk playing on the ends of his lips, threating to burst at any given moment and at times it even seems he'll fall asleep.

"If that's what you feel."

"Jungkook, you're seconds away from going full Golumn!"

"Was he really that problematic? Or should other people mind their own business more and not interfere into the domestic lives of others? What's mine is mine. I would also hate having you be lugged away to a mountain to defeat some evil edgelord."

You cry out — defeated. With a content sigh, Jungkook can feel your body relax in his hold.

"You're impossible."

"Listen, babe, I told you I'm a lot to handle. I'm not legally liable for the consequences of your own actions."

Breathing right into his Adam's apple you curl your palms, briefly considering into pinching him. Painfully.

"You sly son of a-"

Jungkook presses a palm over your mouth with a throaty laughter.

"Let's get along with your future mother-in-law, why don't we?"

Spitefully, you lick at his palm but the only thing it causes is laughter.

"Good idea," much to your horror, he licks a bold strip along your collarbone. Your palms relax from the sheer shock of his actions as your nose crinkles in disgust at the sudden wetness alongside your flesh.

"Gross."

"Just fluids, babe," he points out and settles deeper into the covers, arms restlessly caging you in. From the very moment he first came home, pushed all his weight on top of you with an incoherent "miss you" they hadn't eased.

Still, you suppose this was some sort of progress from the temper he worked up in the earlier days. Recalling your little storm cloud and how he would thunder when threatened made you almost smile. In retrospect, it was just him being...really in love. The way he explained it, was that at times it simply overwhelmed him — this love he held for you. Hence why despite your grumbling and grousing, both you and him knew you weren't against it. It made you feel...wanted. And though you supposed someday in the future, the matter would have to be looked at by a therapist, currently you decided to sleep. His embrace was so warm after all.

And then in the border between wakefulness and sleep, there comes his soft voice, softly clinging to the background of your mind.

"You know you could kill me and I think I'd still love you," he chuckles lowly to himself, pressing a cheek against the crown of your head all the while softly swaying you both to rest. Unproblematic, gentle rest. "You're a bit terrifying in that way."

"I wouldn't do that," you deny hazily, your mouth falling open against his shirt. You always drool on it and he never complains.

"I know."

tagging: @rmstdio; @pinkcherrybombs; @devilsbooksworld; @btsiguess-kpop; @belladaises; @halesandy; @seok-jinnies; @themochiverse; @cuteipat; @ratherbefangirling; @manchuria' @chimchimmarie; @smalliechelle; @koostarcandy; @flitzerj; @royallyjjk; @dreamamubarak; @anti-social-mochi267; @jung-nika-hoseok; @jminssiii

[beabnormal24]

Carcar + iron

I had so much fun writing this one! And I was particulary inspired by these two photos:

“Oscar!”

The sound of Carlos’ voice bounces from wall to wall as Oscar finishes buttoning his shirt to the last hole. He looks at his own fingers reaching the base of his neck in the reflection of the bathroom mirror, realising that the collar might be too tight, again.

He had bought the shirt especially for this occasion, Hattie sighing in exasperation on the other side of their FaceTime as Oscar rummaged through way too many shelves of shirts for his liking.

He had not tried it on, though, just grabbed the first one that looked like it could fit him and rushed towards the cashier because he had completely forgotten about that meeting at the MTC in about half an hour – a meeting that he would’ve probably missed if Lando hadn’t started calling him twice every minute.

So, he guesses, he might’ve put himself in this situation.

“We’re going to be late!” Carlos cries out from somewhere deeper into his apartment that Oscar guesses might be the kitchen.

He doesn’t spend nearly enough time in his own apartment, anyway. When he is not on the road towards yet another race weekend, he much prefers to hide himself into a burrito of blankets on Carlos’ couch, watching him type on his laptop about stakes and stock markets and other shits Oscar doesn’t really care to understand.

“I know!” Oscar yells back, quickly surrendering himself to the idea that he will have to leave the top button open in order not to choke himself in front of Carlos’ parents.

He does look smart, though, or at leats he thinks. Black slacks and light pink shirt should be considered smart, or at least classy – hedoesn’t really know. Usually, there is always somebody else telling him how to dress up for the formal stuff.

 Or it’s just Lando lending him one of his suits with a shake of his head and a scrunch of his nose, refusing to let himself be seen with his teammate looking like that at one of their promotion dinners.

But it’s- whatever.

“Then why aren’t you hurrying up?” Carlos asks, his voice sounding dangerously closer than before.

Oscar makes quick work of taking the deodorant out of the mirror cabinet, spraying it under his armpits and silently praying that it’s the stainless one Carlos bought last week.

Suddenly, the door opens with a creak, soon accompanied the familiar sound of Carlos’ loafers on the slick tiles.

“What. Is. That.” Carlos says, and even though it should sound like a question, Oscar knows from his voice that it does not.

“What?” He asks, alarmed.

He shuts the cabinet close, looking at the label on the deodorant bottle. As it turns out, it is indeed the stainless one, musk-somethting-vanilla scented, and as he checks himself in the mirror, he does not see any stain under his arms.

“What?” He asks again, turning around to loom at Carlos, frozen under the door jamb.

Oscar is not at all surprised that his boyfriend, much like always, looks effortlessly hot: hair slicked back and tight linen beige pants hugging his thighs, the muscles in his biceps bulge deliciously as he crosses his arms over his chest, his white polo shirt hugging his arms tightly as they move.

He looks smart, dressed like this, with that hair and that watch on his wrist.

But Oscar looks just as smart… right?

“That.” Carlos repeats, not very talkative of him, making a half-aborted gesture at Oscar’s shirt.

Oscar looks at his own chest, widening his arms to stare at the way the fabric of his shirt stretches over his pecs. “It’s the top button, isn’t it?” Oscar asks, groaning. “I swear I thought I could manage it but it’s way too tight and-“

“It’s not the fucking button, Oscar.” Carlos snaps, exasperated. “It’s the entire shirt!”

“What?” Oscar asks, taking each side of the shirt and raising it up to his face. He gives it a sniff, just in case, but all that he can smell is the Carlos’ antibacterial softener, that he only recognises for how many times he has woken up curled into Carlos’ sheets. “What is wrong with it?”

Carlos pinches the bridge of his nose, defeated, as if Oscar is the one being completely stupid and not Carlos speaking all cryptic as always.

“Did you even iron it?”

“Ah.” Oscar shrugs. “No?”

Carlos forces him to take his shirt off in the middle of the living room and then sternly instructs him to not move of a single centimetre as he goes to fetch his iron and a microfibre towel to lay Oscar’s shirt on the kitchen table.

He feels almost shy, standing next to the couch and watching as Carlos moves around his flat with incredible ease.

“This,” Carlos says, motioning for the iron he plugs next to the stove. “This is an iron.” He explains, like Oscar is five. “You use it to take off all the- twinkle-winkle things on your shirt.”

“Wrinkles.” Oscar supplies, immediately regretting it when Carlos shots him a deadly glare.

“Do not correct me, Oscar.” Carlos says, impossibly serious. He checks the little red light on the iron, nodding to himself when he notices the button go off and pressing another to let the vapour go off at the top. “You should thank me for not letting you go out for dinner with my parents in a ‘wrinkled’ shirt.”

“I’m sorry.” Oscar says, genuinely.

He hadn’t thought about ironing his shirt at all, and he is ashamed to admit that most of the times, it’s not even his business to care. Usually, there is a PR person walking around ready to drown him in team kits to wear for the weekend. Other times, his personal trainer takes a look at his disgruntled state in the morning and hereby decides that he should take care of his clothes, at the very least.

Carlos, instead, looks completely at ease as he swiftly passes the iron over the fabric, gently stretching the flaps out on the makeshift board. He never lets the iron linger on the shirt for too long, swiping it gently on each wrinkle, careful to not fold the collar.

Oscar takes a step closer, tentatively teasing the previous boundary Carlos had imposed, but he can’t really resist it when Carlos looks so- so homey, and domestic, ironing Oscar’s shirt because he’s a messy teenager who grew up in a boarding school and then became a too professional athlete to learn to care about his own clothes.

He smiles, plastering himself to Carlos’ back, careful to not interrupt his work as he wraps his arms around Carlos’ middle, hiding his face in the crook of his neck.

“You look really beautiful right now.” He admits, whispering the words into Carlos’ shoulder.

Even though he can’t see it, he can definitely feel Carlos’ smile.

“Yeah?” Carlos says, wiggling his arse against Oscar’s front because he’s a tease. “Your beautiful wife ironing your work shirts for you? Do you want me to wear a cute little dress next time?”

Oscar groans pained, images of Carlos wearing a little black and white servant’s dress flooding his mind, his delicious big thighs put on display, the small spaghetti’s braces hugging his beautiful pecs, cutting in the middle of his perky nipples.

Perhaps he could not wear his boxers under the skirt. Or, even better, those lacy red panties he bought last time in Monaco-

“Do not get hard now, Mr Piastri!” Carlos admonishes him, turning his face to the side to give him another glare.

Oscar smiles sheepishly at him, but he can’t really help it when his boyfriend looks so handsome all the time, can he?

“We are already running late, you know how much my mum hates it when we are late.”

“But your mother loves me too much that she would only blame you.” Oscar counters back with a shrug. He knows that it’s true.

Carlos rolls his eyes to the ceiling with an annoyed huff as he turns around in Oscar’s arms, though the smile still toying on the corners of his lips betrays him.

“Here, take this.” Carlos tells him, thrusting the ironed shirt into Oscar’s still naked chest.

It is softer than before, carrying a slight warm from the iron that Carlos had so carefully used only for him, and Oscar can’t help but hug the fabric closer to himself for a second more, enjoying the feeling of familiarity in being taken care of.

He’s liking that way too much, perhaps he could fake being sick next time and let Carlos baby him around like when he got that flu. That would be amazing.

“Come on,” Carlos urges, slapping his bum. He grins coyly at Oscar, full lips brushing against his mouth. “If we are not late, I will buy that dress.” He whispers right before he disappears from Oscar’s arms, already out of the door.

Oscar doesn’t think he has ever ran this fast in his life.