#The framing of those shots though were just mm!

[kaciidubs]

Ass or Tits?

❣ Summary: The question of 'ass or tits' never truly mattered when you had a group of men who loved all of you. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 6.4k ❣ Warnings: Poly! OT8 x Reader, smut, humor, fluff, light Dom/Sub dynamics, creampie(s), squirting, cum play, referenced after care ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Usual first name + pet name references for the members, Reader is referred to as Baby, Mommy, Miss, Princess, Good Girl, Bunny, Bub, Kitten, Jagi, Noona, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“Hey, Hyune?”

The artist hummed as he sketched away at his desk, “Yeah?”

“What do you like better, ass or tits?”

He froze, dropping the charcoal pencil as your words ran through his head on repeat.

“Your ass or tits?”

There was no way he was about to get caught in an infamous partner discourse, not after years of being immune to other futile debates brought on by a certain freckle-faced fairy.

You scoffed out a laugh, rolling onto your stomach from your resting place on his bed, “I mean, I’d hope you’d be talking about my ass or tits, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin whipped his head toward you, eyebrows pushing to his hairline, “W-Well how am I supposed to know!?  This is one of the questions every person dreads! You’re expecting me to pick one or the other on one of my favorite people in the world? What then? Are you going to ask me ‘acrylic or charcoal’? Because I’ll have you know, those are two very different mediums and-”

“Hyunjin, baby - it’s just a question!” Stifling a chuckle, you shook your head, “It’s not like I’m going to ban you from sex if you pick something I didn’t expect - I’m just curious, you know? All of you have different preferences and even though after two years I can kind of make a good guess, I wanna hear it from the sources.”

His shoulders relaxed, visibly slumping in his chair and running his cleaner hand through his short hair, “You’re stressing me out, muse! Why didn’t you lead with that?!”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m so sorry, my little drama queen - now, pick!”

Dark eyes scanned your figure, his head cocking to the side and if you looked closer you could’ve seen the gears turning in his brain.

“Mm… Tits.”

“I knew it.”

“Wha- What’s that supposed to mean?! Are you calling me basic?”

“No, my prince, I’m calling you predictable,” getting off of the bed, you walked toward him and pinched his cheek lovingly, “you grope Changbin’s chest like it’s your job, and there’s rarely a moment your hand isn’t on my chest when we’re cuddling. Now, go wash up - we’re meeting in Chris’s room.”

With a quick kiss to the crown of his head, you walked out of his room with your phone in hand, thumbs typing away in your group chat.

|❣️: Chris’s room asap 💋

“So… Is there a reason why we were summoned? To Chan’s room, no less?” Minho hummed inquisitively, picking up a small souvenir from the eldest’s dresser and turning it in his hands.

“If this is an intervention about League, I swear I didn’t mean to yell that night - I honestly didn’t think anyone heard me!” Came Felix’s whine of defense, already making himself a home on the California king bed, “Seungmin was throwing the game on purpose and I was losing against this stupid-”

“That’s crazy.” Seungmin gaped, faux shock on his face as he purposefully rolled on top of the Aussie, a muffled groan getting caught in the midst of it all. “I told you not to put too much trust in me!”

“Lixie, hate to break it to you, but this definitely isn’t an intervention, but we’ll come back to that point later.” Clapping your hands, you took in the rest of the members who either piled onto the bed, doubled up in Chris’s computer chair, or stood against the door frame. “Anyways - I called you guys here because I have a question!”

“I’d peel a pineapple for you if you asked.”

The room went silent as all eyes shot to Jisung who was currently seated in Minho’s lap, a triumphant smile on his pretty lips.

“I… No, Jisung, it’s not that question, but I’ll remember your answer when I do ask.” Willing away the confused looks sent your way, you cleared your throat, “The actual question is; which do each of you like better - my ass, or my tits?”

The room broke into an uproar, various voices speaking over one another as some questioned the validity of the question while others argued their respective points.

“Noona, you really think we can just pick one thing to like about you?”

Minho scoffed, “I can - her ass, easily.”

“Oh… Shit, you’re right.”

“Jeongin?! Weren’t you just saying you couldn’t pick?!”

“Hyung, that was before I was reminded of how her ass looks in her pajama shorts - you can’t tell me that’s not the hottest sight.”

“I can because I chose her tits!”

Felix laughed, holding his hand up for an air high-five, “I was gonna pick her tits too, Jinnie!”

“This is the stupidest conversation I’ve ever heard,” Seungmin mumbled, throwing an arm over his face, though it did nothing to cover the redness of his ears.

“Bunny, you know you’re more than just your body parts, right?”

You nodded enthusiastically, “Binnie, I’m well aware - I’m just asking for the fun of it, it’s nothing deeper than that!”

Changbin hummed, fluffy curls shifting with the movement, “In that case, I’m team ass - it’s just so cute and round and-” He lifted his hand, squeezing the air as if it were your ass cheeks with a dreamy sigh, “-god, I love it.”

“Okay but, what if we can’t pick?” Jisung piped up, a soft pout puffing his cheeks, “There’s no way I can just choose one - look at you, you’re fucking sexy, Jagi!”

“The oral fixation says boobs, Han, there’s no way out of it.”Felix deadpanned from his place on the bed, his head turned to nail the man with a mischievous glint, “Trust me, I know.”

The latter’s eyes flicked to your t-shirt, tracing the outline of your breasts in the loose fabric with ease. “Yeah… Yeah, you’re right - her tits are amazing.”

“Alright, Chan and Seungmin, you two are the only ones left - make your choice!” Hyunjin demanded lightly, gesturing his hand toward your body from his seat next to you, “Tits or ass? Ass or tits? Which one is it?”

“I’m not playing this game,” the youngest of the two mumbled, his position unchanged.

“Oh, come on, Seungmin! She said it herself, it’s just for fun, she won’t take any offense to what you choose,” Felix prodded, wiggling his body next to his boyfriend, “and we won’t make fun of you if you pick something we didn’t expect.”

“Yeah, puppy,” reaching down, you threaded your fingers through his black hair, “whatever you pick is fine with me, and if anyone makes fun of you for it, they won’t get anything from me for a week.”

That roused a small chuckle from him as he moved his arm, looking up at you with soft eyes, “Really? You think you could go that long?”

“For my Seungmin? Of course. Now, which is it, baby?”

His lips quivered, struggling between forming words and keeping his solitude until he finally murmured, “I like your thighs.”

“That wasn’t even an-”

You quieted Hyunjin with a glare, “Finish that sentence and that’s the only thing you’ll be finishing near me, Hwang.”

“Aw- I wanna change my answer, her thighs are fucking amazing too!” Jisung all but wailed, practically having a full on meltdown, “When you’re eating her out and she wraps them around your head like earmuffs - they’re so warm but you can’t hear her moans when she does it so it’s just a horrible, beautiful curse!”

“No changing your answer, Sungie, you’re still team tits.” 

Now, all the attention was directed to the only one left; Chris, still leaning against the doorway of his room with an embarrassed flush on his face - nothing preparing him for this conversation that pulled him from the sanctity of his laundry run.

“Well, Chris? What do you like?” You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing, knowing full and well that everyone already knew what their boyfriend would pick.

“Ah- You’re seriously going to make me say it?!”

“Come on, Chan, we all said ours, no matter how obvious,” Changbin sent a side eye in an unbothered Minho’s direction, “some of ours may have been.”

The eldest sighed, dropping his head before bringing it up once again, “I like your ass, baby.”

Scoffing, Felix crawled across Seungmin to get closer to you, “I don’t understand how you guys can pick her ass over these,” his hand quickly found home over one of your breasts, gently squeezing the mound over your shirt and earning a shocked gasp in return, “like, how could you not want to suffocate in them?”

“Especially with how sensitive her nipples are?” Hyunjin chimed in, claiming your other breast with his larger hand, jiggling and watching the ripples from your shirt in response.

“Oh my god- The sound she makes when you suck on them?” The bed dipped with a new weight, Jisung making his way onto the bed, causing Jeongin to crawl over and straddle Seungmin. “You guys are seriously missing out.”

Changbin groaned, “It’s not like we don’t like them, we just love her ass more, there’s a difference, Ji.”

In the meantime, you couldn’t help the small sighs of pleasure escaping you as the duo continued to fondle you over your shirt, Jisung taking the hem into his hands.

“Can we, Jagi?”

You nodded happily, “You can, Sungie.”

Hyunjin and Felix pulled back as he lifted your shirt up and off, tossing it off the edge of the bed without a care in the world - why would he, when your tits were on display for him and the men that admired them?

“Why don’t we all take the chance to really admire our favorite parts about you, my muse?” 

Hyunjin’s sultry voice easily floated through the air, the hidden implications more than enough for the atmosphere to ignite with lust.

“Are you ready, angel?”

You blinked up at Felix with dazzling eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips, “Of course, Lixie.”

In the background, you could hear the familiar sounds of panted breaths and the rustling of clothing, but you wouldn’t dare to turn your head from the scene in front - or, rather, above you. 

Hyunjin took the role of straddling your torso while Felix and Jisung kneeled at the sides of your head without even a hint of the clothing that once covered their bodies.

“Innie, can you pass me the lube?”

Jeongin broke from Seungmin’s lips with a groan, narrowing his eyes, “Why can’t you just spit on it, Hyung? I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”

“Because I asked you to? If I felt like spitting I would’ve done it already,” Hyunjin spoke matter-of-factly, catching the glimpse of Jisung guiding his dick into your mouth from the corner of his eye, “don’t be a smartass!”

“Smarta-”

The youngest was unceremoniously flipped onto his back, the black haired singer reaching into the nightstand and tossing over a bottle of lube with a huff.

“Seriously, it was never that big of a deal, you brat.”

Snatching up the tube, Hyunjin wasted no time in squeezing a generous amount between the valley of your breasts, humming out a small apology when you jumped at the cold gel on your skin.

“Forget what I said,” Jisung moaned softly, watching the way your cheeks puffed and hollowed with each drag of his cock, “your mouth is my favorite part.”

Pulling off of him with a pop, you pumped him with your right hand and tossed him a teasing smirk, “You’re still team tits, Sungie.”

Turning your head, you eagerly welcomed Felix’s dick with an eager tongue lapping at the precum beading the tip before taking him in one fell swoop.

“That doesn’t take away from the fact that your mouth is fucking amazing, sunshine.” Felix groaned, bringing a hand to cup your cheek as he lightly thrust into your leisurely bobs.

“Especially for the fact that we’re here for these.” Hyunjin’s lube covered hands squeezed your breasts around his length, the swells positively shining as they sandwiched his cock in an unparalleled warmth.

It wasn’t long until an unplanned rhythm was found between the four of you; alternating between blowjobs and handjobs for the sunshine twins while a certain artist busied himself with a simple rhythm of humping your chest.

In the meantime, Changbin managed to swap positions with Minho for the chair, sitting the second eldest in his lap and littering slow kisses paired with sharp nips along the length of his neck while he watched the show before them.

“Chan, you’re not going to just stand there the whole time, are you?” Minho mused with a raised eyebrow, noting the way the eldest hadn’t even moved a muscle from his spot near the door.

Chris hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, “No, but I’m doing laundry - I don’t wanna get sidetracked and forget about it in the wash, you know?”

There was a disinterested hum followed by a huff he knew all too well, and he found himself pushing off of the doorway with a breathless laugh.

“You have such a way with words, you know that?”

Smirking, Minho shrugged, “I know, it’s a talent.”

Standing in front of the two - and inadvertently blocking the once flawless view - Chris planted his hands on the armrests of the chair before leaning down to catch Minho's lips in a slow kiss, just to part a moment later to do the same with Changbin over his shoulder.

“A-Ah- Tighten your hand a little, Jagi.”

“You have hands,” Hyunjin panted, licking his lips as he watched his pink tip repeatedly disappear and reappear, “help her out- fuck, Lix…”

The blond hummed against his neck, licking at a blossoming hickey, “‘M sorry, just feels so good.”

“Hyune, move your hand a bit.”

Abiding the request, Hyunjin slid his hand to the outer swell of your breast while Jisung licked his fingers before easily finding their way to your nipple, gently rolling the nub between his finger and thumb.

The moan you let out was instantly muffled by Felix’s cock, which in turn made him grit out a shivering groan, “F-Fuck, I’m gonna come soon.”

“M-Me too,” Jisung nodded frantically, eyes trained on the way his hand enveloped yours as he fucked your fist, “gonna paint those pretty tits of yours, Jagi.”

It only took a handful of strokes before Felix was drawing from your mouth with frantic breaths, Jisung slipping from your soiled hand to take over the rest of the job as they both aimed for your chest.

“God, look at how gorgeous they look wrapped around Jinnie’s dick.”

“They were just made to have a dick between them, huh?”

You groaned helplessly, bringing your hands to cover Hyunjin’s and squish your breasts together more, “C-Come on, show mommy how much you love her tits.”

If there was one thing to get them to fall, it was that title - and, like a harp string being plucked, they both came with a sharp gasp and a guttural groan, cum spraying across your breasts and a few drops even landing on your fingers.

Hyunjin shivered above you, eyebrows drawing together with the silver eyebrow piercing catching the glint of the light.

“I can see you’re close, Hyune,” squeezing his hands lightly, you watched as Jisung and Felix flocked to him, hands wandering his chest while lips danced along his shoulders and neck, “come for Miss, my prince, make a mess of me.”

A choked moan fell past his lips as his hips stuttered before he lifted himself onto his knees and came against your breasts, his cum joining the mess of the other two with ease and creating an intricate pattern of white along your skin.

Jisung dipped down to lick a fat stripe through the cum, collecting as much as he could onto his tongue before pulling Felix in for a beautifully messy kiss above you - then repeated the process with Hyunjin, leaving you in a state of horny awe.

“Seungmin, you’re up next.” Felix called happily, swiping his thumb along your breast before presenting it to your lips and watched as you eagerly licked it clean. “You’re so kinky.”

You stifled a laugh, giving the pad of his thumb a soft kiss, “You’re one to talk.”

The trio moved away to make room for the thigh connoisseur, watching as he untangled himself from Jeongin and shuffled between your legs - your pajama shorts and underwear having already met the same fate as your t-shirt moments ago.

“I… I don’t think I’m gonna last long,” he mumbled quietly, a strawberry blush turning his ears as he nudged the leaking head of his cock against the plush of your inner thigh. “Might’ve pushed it a bit too close with Innie.”

“That’s more than okay, pup,” reaching your hand out, you grabbed the lube before handing it to him, “if it bothers you, you can always have a round two later, okay?”

Seungmin nodded dutifully, taking the lube from you while tapping your legs, prompting you to lift them both and lean them on his chest; pouring a generous amount of lube in the palm of his hand to coat around his length.

With a bit of maneuvering, he had both of your calves resting on his right shoulder with his dick nestled in the tight space between your thighs and just above your pelvis - if you focused hard enough, you could feel the heat of his balls against the lips of your pussy.

“M-Mm, fuck…” Wrapping his right arm around your legs, his left hand went down to grip the outside of your thigh, squeezing the flesh as he jutted his hips forward with a quiet moan.

You watched on as he fucked your thighs in quick, sharp thrusts, brown eyes fogged and unfocused as he began to chase the high that was undoubtedly close.

“Good puppy, my good puppy - love my thighs so much, hm? Maybe one of these days I should get you to hump one, would you like that?”

You could clock the faint twinkle in his eye from a mile away, catching the subtle pout of his lips as his body rocked against yours without rhyme but with the sole reason of finishing.

His blush now crawled across his face, tinting the apples of his cheeks as his eyes found yours, “Really?”

Humming, you flexed your thighs, “Really, pup, I’d love to watch you ride me.”

He whimpered, blunt nails digging into your skin as his head dropped to nip at your ankle, “W-Want that, bub - want it so bad.”

“Then it’s yours, Minnie. I’m all yours.”

The next thrust forward had ropes of white streaking up the length of your stomach, breathless moans hidden behind firmly pressed lips as Seungmin shook against your legs, tensing and shaking with each wave until he finally relaxed with a shaky breath.

“You okay, pup?”

Nodding, he gave you a soft smile, “Yeah, but you better not forget your promise.”

You laughed, accepting a kiss to your ankle as a parting gift as he moved away from you and into the arms of a lounging Hyunjin - the comment of him being “disgustingly sweaty”, and Hyunjin’s response of “Then get off of me!”, not going unnoticed in the process.

Turning your gaze to the ceiling, a knowing smile grew on your lips, “Do I even have to ask who’s going next?”

“Nope!” Sliding into view came your darling bread, a smug grin on his lips as his face hovered over yours, “You don’t even have to guess, I’m already here.”

Bringing your hand to his jaw, you lightly scratched your nails under his chin, “Of course you are, maknae - so, how do you want me? Doggy style? Reverse cowgirl? Some secret third position I have yet to learn?”

Judging from the sparkle of his eyes the instant the second option left your lips, he had his decision already cut out and you laughed at his inability to be discreet.

“Alright, I guess this is to make up for slacking on leg day, isn’t it?”

Jeongin rolled onto his back, watching as you straddled him with ease, “You’d have to ask Changbin Hyung about that, Noona - you were the one who suggested it anywa- ah!”

You didn’t need to waste time in teasing yourself as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, lining it up with your severely neglected pussy before sinking down in one fell swoop - a satisfied moan leaving your lips.

“O-Oh god, maybe this wasn’t a good idea…”

“Oh? And what makes you say that, baby?”

Of course, you already knew the answer judging from the way his calves tensed, his toes curled and - less externally obvious - the way his dick twitched inside of your warm walls.

“Noona, please-”

“Have a little too much fun with Minnie, huh? Got yourself all excited while you were waiting?” Clicking your tongue, you rolled your hips teasingly, “I bet you were touching yourself while Seungmin was having his turn, weren’t you, baby boy?”

He whined, tossing his head back with a groan, “Just- Just give me a minute, I swear I’ll last!”

Humming, you waited a few seconds before shaking your head, “Sorry, Innie, if you come early then that’s just how it is - just lay back and enjoy the view, okay? This is what you wanted, remember?”

With no other choice, the sounds of your joined moans soon filled the room as you rode him with one goal on your mind.

“Fuck, look at that view…” Neither one of you were aware of Changbin’s sudden presence beside the bed as he leaned beside Jeongin, basking in the sight of your ass jiggling with each bounce. “I’ll never get over it.”

“I-” Jeongin whimpered, short huffs of breaths escaping him, “T-This is the first time-”

“-she’s ridden reverse cowgirl?! IN-ah, what were you waiting for?!”

“It’s not that he was waiting,” you laughed breathlessly, though the clench of your pussy earned a moan in its wake, “he was just too excited to try everything else that normal positions were at the bottom of his list.”

“What a shame, wasting his chance like this.”

Lifting your head, you were now met with the sight of Minho directly in front of you, keen eyes unblinking as he took you in with a smirk.

“Is it a waste, Min?” Slowing your bounces to languid strokes, your head tilted prettily to the side, “I’d like to think of it as an introduction to what future chances would be like.”

This time, his smirk reached his eyes, brown irises sparkling with amusement, “You naughty kitten.” His hand cupped your cheek as he dipped down to steal a kiss, nipping at your bottom lip in the process.

You preened at the sensation, but the moan that followed came from the firm grip on the swell of your ass cheek, the hand and the pressure stemming from two different forms of familiarity.

“See? What did I tell you?” Changbin smirked, squeezing his hand over Jeongin’s to tighten his grip on your ass, “You can watch all you want, but the real fun is in touching.”

The younger groaned out a desperate sound, “‘M g-gonna-”

At the hint of his confession, you forfeited the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours for the opportunity to go back to bouncing on Jeongin’s dick without abandon, fisting the sheets to distract from the unyielding burn in your thighs.

“-a-ah- p-please- N-Noona, oh god, I-” He cut himself off with a choked gasp, hips canting as his orgasm took him by storm.

A hum of satisfaction vibrated past your lips as his warmth filled you, stilling to spare him the overstimulation for the time being. “Feels so good baby, you never disappoint.”

Once the incessant twitching of his cock died down, you lifted yourself off of his lap, shivering at the sensation of his load slowly seeping out of you and dribbling back onto his spent dick.

“So,” you breathed, looking between the two men currently surrounding you and shooting a glance toward Chris, “who’s next?”

The answer to that question was a very smug Minho, excitement thrumming through your veins as he nodded his head toward the edge of the bed - the silent command leading you to find yourself to where you currently were now.

“Minho!”

Your nails clawed at the sheets, the mattress rocking along with your body as the black haired man fucked into you like a man possessed.

“It’s only fair that someone gives you your first orgasm of the night, kitten,” he drawled, thumbs digging into the small of your back as he held you impossibly tighter, “why wouldn’t I make sure that it’s me giving it to you?”

Your body couldn’t decide between attempting to run away from his powerful thrusts, or submit yourself to the fiery pleasure that hoped to consume you, until you felt the warmth of his hands sliding up your back, past your shoulder blades, and along your forearms.

Like a slab of clay for him to mold, he maneuvered your arms behind your back and pinned them with one hand, the other going back to its home on your hip as he aimed long, precise thrusts to a spot he was well acquainted with.

The side of your face melted into the mattress, tears of pleasure blurring your vision, as any sound you’d hoped to make dissolved into hiccuped breaths and encouraging mewls.

Minho grunted, clenching his jaw as he felt the telltale signs of your orgasm begin to shine through, “That’s it, kitten, give it to me.”

Your legs trembled, pussy fluttering and clenching with each passing second until your body tensed with a cry of his name falling from your spit-shined lips.

He welcomed the new wave of arousal coating his dick and adding to the already sloppy glide of your cunt, wet slaps sounding through the room as he fucked you through your high with a breathless chuckle.

“There it is.”

Grip tightening on your wrists, his hips met yours a number of times before he pulled out with a gasp, jacking himself off with his free hand and coming along the curve of your ass and thighs - much to your delirious chagrin.

“Why…?” You whined breathlessly, wiggling your hips for further emphasis - not that he needed it.

Minho released your wrists to land a swift smack to your unsoiled ass cheek, a satisfied smile curling his lips from the squeak you let out. “Because I wanted to - you still have two people to fill you the way you wish, kitten, let’s not get too greedy, hm?”

There was a slew of giggles and chuckles from the onlookers, and you tried your best to send them your best glare, though your efforts were in vain as you felt a pair of hands caressing your thighs.

“Get up on the bed for Binnie, bunny.”

You obeyed with no hesitation, already knowing which position you would be set in for the remainder of the session as you turned to tuck a pillow under your chin, bringing your knees up and out to sit your hips high in the air and dip your spine into a fine arch - pretty and presentable.

“God,” Changbin groaned, scrambling to fill in the space behind you as fast as he could, “I’ve been waiting so long to get you like this, bunny, you would not believe.” His firm hands instantly went to cup your ass, spreading your cheeks further and sucking in a breath at your glistening hole. “So fucking pretty…”

“Binnie.”

Your insistent, warning whine hadn’t fallen on deaf ears, and he wasted no time in notching the fat head of his dick to your fluttering walls.

“Alright, bunny, deep breaths for me.”

Of course, you already knew the drill, having grown custom to the mind numbingly delicious stretch only he was capable of giving you, but the reminder never failed to stir the swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

With a deep inhale, your slow exhale was followed by him sinking past your walls, each inch slowly stretching your cunt around his girth.

It wasn’t long until he was fully seated inside of you, and with warm hands kneading the flesh of your ass, he drew his hips back before snapping them forward, punching a moan from the depths of your lungs.

Even if you were still tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm, you were still begging for more with each whimpered moan and choked gasp as your body seemed to melt deeper into the arch you had set.

“Look at you, can’t get enough of us, can you?” Changbin goaded, though his tone was soft and warm, “It’s okay, we can’t get enough of you either, bunny.” He lifted his hand to slap the swell of your ass, before gripping the flesh, “You and this ass of yours.”

A shiver shot down your spine as his hand slipped, his thumb caressing the inside of your cheek and just barely grazing your asshole - a temptation that had shown its face among a few of the boys before, but was never fully dwelled on by them nor yourself.

“I’m curious, bunny,” he hummed, slowing his fast thrusts for laxed, deeper ruts, “would you ever let one of us use this other pretty hole of yours?” Sliding his hand further, he pressed his thumb against the tight ring just enough to burn the fantasy into a possible reality, “Would you let Binnie fuck this pretty ass?”

You nodded frantically, your hands gripping onto the poor pillow below you, “Y-Yes! Yes! I-It’s all yours, Binnie - want it so bad!”

His signature, triumphant laugh filled the room as he tossed a glance to his boyfriends, “Hear that? I get first dibs.”

“You can’t just ask her questions like that!” Jeongin groaned, a stern pout set on his lips, “She agrees to anything if you fuck her long enough!”

“Yeah, how else do you think Felix managed to stay up late enough for his Apex tournament that one time?”

“How am I always being brought up here?!” The blond scoffed as he lightly shoved Hyunjin, crossing his arms over his lithe chest, “But, I mean, yeah - three orgasms can get you a pretty good deal.”

Jisung hummed inquisitively, before narrowing his eyes, “But did you win?”

“He won,” Minho huffed, a smirk curving the corners of his lips, “and he gave her head the next morning, I could hear her moans from the kitchen.”

Muted thumps of the headboard began to grow in frequency until a low groan interrupted the riveting conversation - Changbin hunching over your body as his muscles tensed, shivering while he filled you with his seed.

“God, fuck,” he hissed, rolling his hips against yours while your walls fluttered around him, clenching from the orgasm that was just moments away. “You’re too good to us, you know that, bunny?”

You huffed out a breathless laugh, stifling a moan as his hands massaged your lower back out of its arch for a moment of respite, “I-I’ve been told once or twice,” turning your head, sultry eyes landed on the final man of the hour, “but you guys are worth it.”

Chris flushed under the heat of your gaze, just barely catching Changbin’s teasing “Don’t break her back, Chan.”, as he climbed onto the bed and took the space previously occupied by the rapper.

“Think you can stay in this position one more time, baby?” He mused softly, caressing the warm skin of your back before gliding his hand down to the curve of your ass.

Without answering him, you spread your knees and tucked yourself into a deeper arch, wiggling your hips to further entice the man behind you.

“Yeah,” Seungmin chuckled, lazily crossing his arms over his chest, “he’s blowing her back out, it’s over.”

As much as you wanted to turn your head to respond, your train of thought flew out the window as you felt the bed dip slightly, before the pressure of Chris’s blunt tip nudged against your cunt, bumping against your clit tauntingly.

“Alright, princess,” he breathed, dragging the tip along your slit, “why don’t you give them a show for daddy, hm?”

This time, your reply came in the form of an elongated moan as he sunk into your heat, the stretch coming with ease after Changbin’s size, yet the length making your toes curl.

“Oh, god-”

There was no opportunity for a pause, not when you were miles beyond prepped and ready; the orgasm Minho previously gave you, paired with the second one Changbin gently guided you toward yet kept from tipping over, leaving you with a bubble that was ready to burst within minutes.

“F-Fuck, daddy,” you keened, pressing your hips into his own in feigned hopes of getting him impossibly deeper, “please, please fuck me.”

Chris ran his tongue over his bottom lip, eyes glued to the way your pussy wrapped around his length, as he nodded, “Hands, baby.”

A shiver of excitement shot down your spine and you complied almost immediately, using the pillow to keep your head propped up as you worked your arms behind your back, the warmth of his hand easily finding your wrists and pinning them.

With you set up to his liking, he slowly pulled out just about halfway before driving his hips forward with force, the added balance of his right foot planted on the bed adding to his power.

He was definitely going to blow your back out.

It didn’t take long for him to find the perfect rhythm, nor did it take long for the room to be filled with your high pitched moans and gasps, and the slap of your ass against his thighs - the ripples slowly, but surely, turning your limbs to jelly.

“Our perfect girl,” he gritted out, the grip on your hip and wrists tightening marginally, “letting us admire you for the beautiful gem you are - take turns with this gorgeous body of yours.”

It wasn’t news that they were constantly in awe of you, with and without your clothes on - you were the brightest star in their night sky, you were the puzzle piece they finally found to complete their lives separately and together - and they never failed to remind you of how loved you were.

“But, you know you’re so much more than that, don’t you, princess?” Chris tilted his head to catch a glimpse of your face, eyes fogged and unfocused, lips parted with endless moans tumbling through, “You’re so much more than just your body to us.”

“C-Chris!” You managed to choke out between a whimper, his loving sentiments paired with the unyielding strokes of his cock to your deepest, sweetest parts turning your brain to mush, though your body responded in the best way it could.

He hissed at the telltale clench of your walls, a shiver running down his spine as he nodded mindlessly, “Already? It’s alright, baby, you can come for me - don’t hold back, yeah? Give it to me - give it all to me.”

Your body reacted faster than your mind could at his command, your orgasm barrelling toward you at a speed that had your hands balling into fists; every muscle in your body tensing and clenching until the thread snapped with one more well angled thrust. Mouth falling open with a silent scream, the only sound you were able to hear was your own heartbeat as your vision went white.

The first thing to return to you was your hearing, the muffled thumps of your heart fading out into loud, heavy pants - though you knew for a fact that breathing wasn’t just you. The next sense to return was touch, the slightly damp sheets underneath you grounding you back to reality as your eyes fluttered open only to land on an unexpected face.

“Sungie?”

“Jagi, if I swap to ‘Team Ass’ can you do that for me, too?” Jisung’s face was ripe with blush, though his eyes were wide and wild with lust that had your abdomen clench almost painfully.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you frowned lightly, “Do what?”

“You squirted, muse,” Hyunjin murmured beside him, awe laced in his tone, “that was so fucking hot.”

Oh.

It wasn’t until you went to move your arms that you realized Chris was still keeping you pinned - and a second later you realized he was still inside of you.

“Channie?”

“I-I’m okay, I-” Relinquishing his hold on you, his hands instantly went to your hips, thumbs tracing nondescript shapes against your skin, “I just… I need a minute, ‘m sorry.”

“No, no, baby, it’s okay, take your time.” Working yourself onto your hands, your lower back eternally grateful for the relief, you took a quick scan of the empty room, “Where’d everyone else go? Did I genuinely pass out?”

“No - honestly, you were only out for like, a minute, but after you, uh, came, we started the aftercare checklist.” Hyunjin’s hand reached out to wipe away a hint of saliva at the corner of your lips, “Hannie and I are on talk-down duty, Felix is running you a bath, Jeongin’s getting you a washcloth, Seungmin is getting you water while Minho’s starting on dinner, and Changbin is getting the laundry Chan was too fucked out to get himself.”

“I’m not fucked out,” the eldest groaned as he lazily turned his head toward the artist, “it was just a really intense orgasm, alright?”

With enough energy worked up, he pulled his hips away from yours as his softening dick slipped from your pussy, a shared hiss of overstimulation escaping you both in the process.

“Holy shit… Intense is a fucking understatement, she’s dripping so much.”

You bristled at Jisung’s words, though you could feel the reality of the situation currently oozing its way down your clit and undoubtedly landing against the stained bed sheet.

“Fuck, it’s like a river… Am I allowed to be jealous right now?”

“Han, please.” Chris groaned, embarrassment evident in his tone, “We get it, I come a lot, but I really don’t know what you have to be jealous about.”

Ducking your head with a barely contained laugh, you shook your head before meeting Jisung’s stare, “Next time, you’ll be the one almost folded in half and stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey, okay?”

“I got the water, but it’s gonna cost you-” Seungmin stopped in his tracks as he rounded the bed, his eyes locking onto the mess between your legs, “What- You turned her into an overstuffed twinkie!”

“Seungmin!”

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @softkissfelix, @luvyev, @luminouskalopsia, @kpopsstuffs, @luvyev, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @broken-glowsticks, @j-onedrabbles, @dawninnie, @junglyric, @piercedddriver, @sometimesleeknows, @mahklathekpopqueen

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[milf-murdock]

Unsteady (Simon x Johnny x Reader)

Request: Simon and Johnny taking care of F!Reader

Summary: Simon and Johnny take care of you after you almost pass out at the pub.

TW: heavily implied disordered eating, almost passing out, mental health concerns, medication mentions (nothing specific but could be read as ADHD medication side effects).

A/N: Hi anon! Thank you so much for your request and your kind words! I'm choosing not to publish the ask because I think there are some triggering words that I won't be able to hide under a "read more" line, but I hope that you enjoy this and find some comfort in it.

As someone who has also struggled with EDs in the past, please, please, please do not be afraid to ask for help. There is nothing glamorous about eating disorders. They absolutely need to be taken seriously.

Instead of going the full ED route with this one shot, I took it down a slightly softer path and based it off of my experience with ADHD and how it has led to me accidentally missing meals.

The din of the pub faded into the background as you sat in the corner booth of your favorite pub. You were pressed up against Simon’s bulky frame, one of his strong arms wrapped around your body, keeping you tucked in close. Johnny sat across the booth, taking in his favorite view: you wrapped up in Simon—his two loves, his whole world sat right across the table from him. 

Your empty glass clinked against the others as your set it on the table. “Looks like we’re ready for another round,” you said, smiling up at Johnny. 

“Mm, that it does,” Johnny smiled back at you, and you felt like you could absolutely drown in those ocean eyes. 

“You tryna get us drunk or something, love?” Simon teased, lips pressing against your collarbone. 

“Something like that,” you laughed, turning your head meet his lips for a quick kiss. “Here, I’ll go, order them” you reasoned, being on the outside of the seat and closest to the bar. “Be right back.” You pushed yourself from the booth to your feet, and instantly the entire room started spinning.  Damn, you thought to yourself. That beer is hitting fast. You went to take one tentative step, and then the room started to tilt, the floor coming up at you fast. 

Johnny was out of his seat in an instant, having picked up immediately something was wrong from the moment you stood up. His two large hands reached out to steady you, catching you in his arms. “Easy now,” he grunted,  bracing you both. “I’ve got ye.” He gently lowered you back into the booth, letting your weak form lean up against Simon. Simon’s hands instantly held you against him, supporting you. At the edge of the booth, Johnny got down on one knee so he could be eye level with you. 

“Look at me, hen,” he coaxed. “What’re you feeling?” Johnny grabbed one of the ice waters from the table and gingerly helped bring it to your lips. 

You blinked, trying to get your bearings. The room finally stopped spinning. “M’fine,” you mumble before taking a sip of the water Johnny offered you. The icy cold liquid helped clear your mind. “Just got a bit dizzy.”

Johnny and Simon exchanged knowing glances. 

“What’ve ye had to eat today, lass?” Johnny’s voice was gentle, prodding, but his eyes were a dead giveaway to the concern and hurt he was feeling, already knowing the answer. 

“Umm, I’m not really sure,” you stepped around the question, your voice hesitant. “I think I had a banana this morning?” 

Simon let out a resigned sigh. “I’m assuming that would be half of a banana,” he corrected. “Considering I found the remaining half still in the peel on top of the dresser.”   

You eyelids fluttered shut, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Oh.” You let out. “Yeah, I went in there to grab one of your jumpers and I must have forgotten it.” 

It happened all the time, you getting distracted mid task. It had gotten even worse since one of the side effects of your medication was a suppressed appetite. You never did have quite a good relationship with food to begin with though. 

“And what about lunch?” Johnny continued his prodding. 

You bit your bottom lip, a nervous habit of yours. Wincing, you reply with a mumbled “forgot.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as shame flooded through you. 

At this, both men let out a sigh, completely in synch when it comes to their concern for you. 

“Love, we’ve been over this,” Simon started before being cut off. 

“M’sorry.” Despite your best efforts, a couple tears started to slide down your face. 

Johnny pulls you into his arms. “S’okay, Bonnie,” he soothed, running a hand up and down your back. 

“S’not okay, Johnny,” Simon snapped from the other side of you. “She needs to be eating.” 

Johnny shot Simon a glare. “I know that, Si.” He took a deep breath before pressing a kiss to your temple, your head buried against his chest. “He’s right though, bonnie. Ye need to be eating.” 

His hand slid up to grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him. 

“I know,” you whined, fidgeting under his piercing gaze. 

Simon scooted closer across the booth, a strong hand coming to rest against your back. 

“We just need to know you’re taken care of, love,” Simon began to rub his hand in a soothing circle. “Specially knowing we can’t always be here to take care of you ourselves.” 

“I know,” you sighed, feeling yourself shutting down. 

Simon and Johnny exchange another glance, Simon giving a short nod of approval signaling to back off for now. 

“Just promise us you’ll try,” Johnny pleaded. “For us. Please?”

You nod, sniffling. 

“I promise,” you sighed softly. “I’ll try harder.”

Johnny gave you a crooked smile, a favorite of yours. “Atta girl.” 

Simon pressed a kiss to the back of your head. “Now let’s go get some dinner, love. How’s that sound?” 

“It sounds…” you trailed off.  “Well, I don’t really feel that well.” 

Simon nodded his head knowingly. “Well that’s cause you’ve hardly eaten today.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Probably.” 

“Something easy then,” Johnny stated matter of factly. “Perfect weather for soup. Think you can manage that, dove?” 

You gave a small nod and let Johnny transfer you over to Simon’s strong arms. 

“Aye, good lass,” he gave you a quick peck. “Si, get our girl home and I’l go pick it up.” 

“Affirmative,” Simon agreed, giving your hip a quick tap to encourage you to try to get on your feet again. 

Johnny stood up and offered you a hand to help you up, Simon’s hands never leaving your hips until they were both certain you weren’t in danger of passing out on them.  

“I’ll see you both at home,” Johnny quipped, giving both you and Simon a quick kiss on the cheek before going to pay the tab. 

Simon helped you shrug into your coat and the two of you made your way out to the brisk Manchester air. 

An hour later, empty takeaway containers littered the coffee table in the living room as you laid on the couch with your loves. You were pressed up against Simon, leaning up against him, tucked under his arm. Your legs were sprawled out across Johnny’s lap, his calloused hands giving you the most delightful foot massage. 

“Y’know we love you, right?” Johnny’s voice broke the silence that had settled over the three of you. 

“I know,” your voice was low. 

“We just worry about you, love,” Simon urged, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. 

“I promise I’ll try to be better.” You sighed softly. “I love you both so much.” 

“We love you too, lass.” Johnny leaned forward to give you a kiss. 

“So much,” Simon finished, pressing another kiss to your exposed neck. 

[stories-and-chaos]

Shrike: Angel Learns a Lesson

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” I did my best for an ace x ace relationship, based on personal experience. Both parties are moderately sex favorable. Silly one shot inspired by my brain saying ‘what if a Stolas-esque bleep fest was extremely clinical’]

[One shot, 1106 words, no warnings needed]

—————

“Okay toots, you an’ me gotta talk,” Angel Dust found you reading in the hotel parlor. The lanky spider demon had been itching to talk to you one on one since you moved into the hotel. You’d moved into Alastor’s suite, happy to finally have your husband back after his seven year ‘sabbatical.’ That meant you were mostly in the Radio Demon’s company. Angel had learned not to ask him about sex the hard way.

You looked much more approachable. You had the air of a delicate bird. A little shorter than Vaggie, you had the perfect amount of curves for an hourglass figure. The shimmering flapper dress you wore showed that off nicely. Even though your arms and legs were vividly red for ⅔ of their length, they weren’t too alarming. Even your talons looked delicate. The black mask across your eyes was striking but offset by the fluffy silver hair framing your face. Your wings didn’t have a sharpness like a bird of prey and were proportioned more like a songbird.

All in all, you looked sweet, cheerful, and non-threatening.

So on a day that Alastor was out while you remained at the hotel, Angel Dust got the perfect opportunity to get some of the goods about tall, dark, and spooky. “Oh! Angel! What can I help you with?”

“I gotta know sweet cheeks, what do you an’ Al get up to?” You made an inquiring noise as you tilted your head to one side. Even that motion was bird-like. The porn star stared at you, unsure if you were pranking him. But the silence stretched on and he realized you actually didn’t understand. “Wha…how…you…” he didn’t know how to talk about sex with someone who didn’t understand innuendo. “How do you and Smiles have sex?”

That just confused you more. “Angel, ma petite araignée, I thought you worked in the sex industry. Surely you know the mechanics.” You paused. “Though I suppose I wouldn’t put it past that lousy moth to keep you in the dark.”

“I know how banging works! Jeez, I can’t do this sober.” He ordered drinks from a Husk that was trying not to laugh. He drank one, got a refill and brought one back for you as well. “A’right. You and Alastor are both as thick as two short planks about anything sexy, so I wanna know how you guys ever do anything in bed. Besides sleeping,” he hastened to add.

“Ooooooooh, okay! Sure, I don’t mind talking. But you gotta explain all those innuendos we don’t understand, got it cher?”

“You got it toots. Now spill, start with how often you do the deed.”

You sipped your whiskey as you thought back over the last century. “Mm, anywhere from one to four times a year? It varies, but infrequently is a good way to put it.”

“You only have sex once a year?!”

“I didn’t say that. It’s usually just for the night but intercourse occurs more than once when we feel up to it. Multiple times usually,” you clarified with a chuckle.

“Okay, makes sense, ya got me there. So it’s just when you’re both in the mood then?”

“I suppose you could put it that way. It’s an enjoyable activity, just not something we need to do. Or want to do as much as most.”

“A’right, we got the scheduling figured out. I gotta know technique. Positions, toys, he into kinky shit? You into kinky shit?” He leaned on the couch back, thrilled that he got you talking.

“Well [redacted] is our usual position. We’ve tried [beep], [bleep], [what], [why]. Oh and [really?] but that was uncomfortable for Alastor. [redacted] and [redacted] were fun but we were so worn out the next day. I like [beeeeeeeeeeep] to mix things up. I don’t know if they count as kinky but [oh god], [nope], [beepbeep], [thats a thing?], [redacted], [please stop], [srsly], and [wow] are all things we’ve attempted over the years. I like some [bleeping all this] and [this too] personally while he enjoys [hide your eyes], [nope], [double nope]. Oh, I almost forgot [holy shit], we gave that a try before his sabbatical.” Angel and Husk both looked at you in disbelief as your list grew. Then you continued.

“As for toys…[don’t wanna know], [redacted], [dang girl], and [bleepbleepBLEEP] all see some use. I guess [redacted] also counts. We tried [no thanks] but I hated it. We’ve both agreed we never want to try [ew] or [gross]. [How even?] has been fun. Alastor has indulged me with [no more please] a few times. Of course I reciprocate with some [BEEPBLEEP] if he asks. But really it’s mostly [redacted] for us. I’m sure we’re terribly boring compared to what you’ve been up to, ma petite araignée.”

Angel blinked at you in a daze. He held his drink loosely in his hand before downing it in a desperate gulp. Husk was once again pulling his ears down in extreme embarrassment. “I wouldn’t say that toots.”

You brushed his mop of hair from his face. The poor thing looked dazed. “Angel, cher, I think you’ve had enough to drink for tonight. Husk, do you have any water for him?”

“Getting to know the guests my dear?” Alastor manifested from the shadows, making Angel jump and you smile.

“More the other way around darling.”

“So long as everyone is behaving themselves. I wanted to know if you’d like to go out to dinner tonight? I’ve come across a little place that claims to have authentic Cajun cuisine.”

“Mais oui! Although I’m surprised you’re willing to try after what happened to the last restaurant.”

“You cannot dump black pepper into sausage and rice and call it jambalaya. It’s a sin and a disgrace and the place deserved to burn for it.”

“Right you are, Alastor. Am I dressed well enough or shall I go change?” You stood up and twirled for his inspection.

“Hmm, lovely as always my dear.” He held out his arm for you. “Until later chums!”

“We’ll be back! Make sure you get some rest Angel,” you called as Alastor led you out.

Once the two of you were gone, Angel slumped over Husk’s bar. “I didn’t imagine that right? You heard her too, right?”

“Oooh yeah. I kept saying not to ask, but you just had to know.”

“Yeah well I learned my lesson. I’m gonna need another drink after that.”

“Nah, I think Y/N was right about you having enough for now.” Husk pushed a glass of water over to him, garnished with a lemon slice.

“Asshole.” Angel did drink the water though.

A/N: This is absolutely drawn from my being married for 10+ years and still not understanding innuendos. Doesn’t matter how many times we’ve done it, that’s not how I’m wired. I’m going with “you can’t be embarrassed if you don’t care” as to why Shrike is so frank with Angel btw. It’s as embarrassing as picking out her shoes for the day. Also when you’re approaching triple digits in how long you’ve been with a partner, I figure you’ve tried everything under the sun and beyond, purely out of curiosity. My count has roughly 600 instances from 150 evenings over their life- and death-time. Feel free to mad libs her bleeped portions, I honestly only filled in a third of them in my brain, and the canonicity is dubious anyway.

@edgyboi10000 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @deafsignifcantother @whitewolfsoldat @ch3sire-blu3

[melodygatesauthor]

The Sweetest Gift

Mafia Boss Jake Lockley X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - Requested by @missdictatorme

Part 2

Kinks - Claiming/Ownership + Auctions

I would LOVE to continue this fic but I just don't have the time so honestly if anyone feels the urge to take this and run with it, be my guest, please tag me for credit (and so I can read it hehe).

Summary

You've been purchased at auction and gifted to the mafia boss Jake Lockley. He's much kinder than you expected, and takes a liking to you immediately.

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, kinda sorta dubious consent but not really? You have to squint, corruption kink, fingering, soft Jake Lockley, claiming, mentions of sex slavery, virgin reader but no loss of virginity.

Word Count: 805

“Wow,” Jake muttered under his breath as you approached him timidly, “you said she was bought at auction?”

Steven nodded, “yes sir, a gift f’you by Harrow. He says she’s a peace offering.”

Jake’s lips curled up into a smirk, “quite the offering,” he beckoned you over with a gloved finger, “come here sweetheart, let me get a good look at you.”

You were barely in arm’s reach when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you onto his lap, gripping your bare waist tightly and feeling you over. He hummed in approval, eyes scanning your body like he might devour you. He looked handsome, you thought, with a pronounced nose and beautiful dark curls. His eyes twinkled when his gaze fell on yours, as though he genuinely cared for you, but you knew that couldn’t be true. The girls who were auctioned off to mafia bosses didn’t get to experience love and care, they were only objects made for pleasure.

Jake pulled one of your legs over his lap so you were straddling him. A gasp fell from your mouth when he wasted no time pressing two leather coated fingers between your pussy lips. He let out a dark snicker, pulling them back and turning them, admiring the way they glistened with your arousal in the dim light of the room.

“Everyone out,” he said coldly.

“But sir we–”

He shot Steven a daring glare before the man left the room, followed by the others who scurried to obey. It was just you and him now, and you’d never felt so anxious before. Your bottom lip quivered, and your breath was shaking with every exhale. Jake brought his fingers to his lips, baring his teeth down on the glove and pulling it off his hand.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, cariño, I’m not going to take from you the way others have,” he touched your face softly, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone, “instead, I want you to take what you want from me.”

He slid his fingers back between the lips of your cunt again, curling them upward before realizing…no one had ever touched you before.

“Oh…sweetheart…” he cooed, “no one’s ever taken anything from you before, have they? Oh what a gift…” He moved his fingers in a sliding motion, watching as your lips parted and small gasps escaped you, “then let me be the one to claim you, hm?”

He slid a single finger into your greedy hole, watching your body shake in response. You were so sensitive, so desperate for touch. Had you never even touched yourself before? Judging by the way his simple motions made your entire frame quiver, he guessed not. He used the pad of his thumb to roll over your hungry clit while he used his middle finger to continue fucking your little hole.

“That’s it sweet girl, give yourself over to me,” his breath hitched when your cunt fluttered over him, “tell me how that feels,” his voice was deep and sultry.

You choked on your words, struggling to get them out, “mm g-good sir, it’s…ohh!”

He let out a low chuckle, “you’re squeezing around my finger so tight sweetheart,” he let out a long exhale, “why don’t you kiss me, wanna taste those pretty lips.”

You leaned forward, pressing your lips into his gently, as though you were afraid he might bite them off. You felt the hand that rested on your hip move up to grab behind your head, pulling you in deeper. Jake’s tongue split the seam of your mouth, forcing its way into you, swallowing your whimpers while you continued grinding yourself on his finger.

“I…I feel…ah…” your breath caught in your throat, along with your words.

You felt a heat pooling in your center, tingling and burning like fire; like something ready to explode any second.

“It’s okay, that’s a good thing, let it happen…”

He started moaning into your mouth, kissing you deeper, moving his thumb faster. In short order, you were falling victim to that delicious sensation that crept over your entire body, making you pliant and numb. Your mind went white, your cunt clenched around his finger like a vice grip. Your head fell back, and Jake started kissing your chest as you melted into his touch. You’d never felt anything like it, and now you wanted more.

You looked back down at him, breathless as you came down from your high, “what…what was that…s-sir…?”

Jake smirked, looking up at you, “that’s just a small fraction of what I can give you my sweet girl,” he pulled his finger from you and popped it in his mouth, “mm,” he grabbed both of your hips, pulling you down to feel the arousal prodding through his slacks. “Now I’m gonna show you what else we can do…”

Moon Knight Masterlist

Melody's 1K Celebration Masterlist

[the-peak-tmnt]

I want to say that I like that your fic is mostly Raph centric because those fics are rare and he deserves more love and pain lol

Raph: Mom says it's my turn with the trauma

Thank you so much! I'm seriously so grateful for people who are willing to give a Raph-centric fic a shot!

I knew writing Raph-centric fic that's also a Mutant Mayhem fic was gonna turn a lot of people off from giving it a try, which I totally understand because I usually go for Leo-centric fics myself lol. It also doesn't help that Mutant Mayhem still isn't super popular.

But Mutant Mayhem Raph is an exciting new version of Raph that's been SO fun to explore, and I'm gonna go on a little rant about why I'm enjoying writing (and torturing) him so much!

[Initiating Raph Rant] So, almost all Raphs are tough guys who also wear their hearts on their sleeves, which is what makes him such a fun character. He's "the angry one", but usually also super emotional in other ways:

Because MM feels more like an actual teenager than most other iterations, his moments of emotional vulnerability feel particularly raw and relatable. I might be old as dirt now, but I do still remember what it was like to be a teenager still trying to figure out who they were and what they wanted in life.

Mutant Mayhem does such an amazing job of hitting on those teenage insecurities and desires. The turtles whole goal in the movie is to be accepted. All teenagers feel like outsiders and want acceptance at some point. That teenage desire for acceptance is amplified for the turtles because they're not just teenagers, but mutants as well. The moment where Raph's voice sort of wavers as he says "we're never gonna be normal" breaks my heart every time, because they're so sure acceptance is completely out of reach for them 😭

...but the MM boys do get acceptance by the human world by the end of the film. Raph even seems to find his place own at Eastman on the wrestling team in the post-credit scene.

I think this is what has turned a lot of fans off MM, though, because the turtles' need for secrecy and using their ninja skills to remain hidden has always been an integral part of the TMNT franchise. Personally, I actually love that departure from the typical TMNT format and talked about it once before.

But there are some traditional TMNT elements that I did miss in MM, one of those being the fact that in most iterations, Raph is an outsider even amongst outsiders. His anger is what alienates him from his brothers at times, and it often gets him into trouble. It’s also what almost always leads to his friendship with Casey (another outsider).

Tales of the TMNT isn't out yet, and we don't how this series will give Raph that traditional outsider treatment, or if it will at all. They could save it for Mutant Mayhem 2, but that's still years away. And even then they might decide not to go that route because so far, MM Raph's rage has mostly just manifested in a propensity for fighting & violence rather than interpersonal issues with his brothers & other people. His rage is even framed as useful in the final fight against Superfly.

So anyway...as canon stands right now pre-tottmnt/MM 2, Raph is an "insider". He and his brothers can have a life on the surface, and Raph even seems to have found his own place at Eastman on the wrestling team. Again, I'm all for this happy ending and a brand new experience for the turtles, but I was also missing my personal favorite flavor of Raph...which is angry and alienated lol.

After I saw MM in theaters, I started looking at a lot of the concept art and other production material floating around on the internet and I came across this concept art by Garrett Lee:

And it was like "oh shit, there he is! Outsider Raph!"

He looks so lonely and separate from everyone else here, and I was obsessed with this idea of Raph somehow still being an outsider even after the mutants were accepted by humans. But again, we're still waiting for tottmnt and MM 2, and even then there's no guarantee we'll get an Angry & Sad Outsider Raph out of either of those.

So I asked myself "how can I ruin MM Raph's life so that he's as lonely and miserable as he looks in this concept art???"

...and Reciprocity was born 😅

[kaorikarma]

Let Your Soul Take Flight

Howard Phillips Lovecraft X Reader

"I'm... starving.."

"Aren't you always?" You tsked, having been caring for him for several days. From the moment you saw him, emotionless and uncaring in a pouring rain shower, you knew he would be difficult; but you hadn't expected just how deeply odd he was.

He hummed, gazing at a wall with what you could only hope was some sort of thoughts processing in his brain.

"Most of the time." His head turned to look at you at an eerie, inhuman swivel while he answered, eyes blank and wide. You shivered a bit, something you hoped he didn't notice.

"Ok, well, let's go for a round three on taking care of that today. Let's try a buffet this time. I can't afford $300 in fast food again." You sighed, noting his doe-eyed expression. He didn't really seem to care if he drained your wallet; hell, he didn't even seem to fully grasp the concept of monetary value.

Feeding him had been a monumentous task. It was first on your list, since he looked frighteningly gaunt and emaciated, but nothing seemed to fill his stomach.

He constantly complained of being hungry, tired, and itchy, though no amount of sleep, food, or anti-itch cream sated him. He just stared at you with those blank, dead eyes.

There was something about him that made you decide to keep trying. He didnt seem to understand anything about society, and you were strongly worried for his well-being otherwise. At first, you had suspected mental health issues, his eccentricities ever-present to a degree of naiveté, but after the several days you'd spent trying and failing to care for him, you began to suspect some inhumanity present in him. His odd movements, insatiable needs, the way you discovered late last night that the cause of his consistent itching was your gaze, he seemed to you too strange to be human.

You plopped down in the chair in front of your bed, which he had promptly taken over before you could direct him to your couch, complaining all the while that the linens were giving him a rash. Head in hand, you watched his brows furrow with unease as you looked him in the eyes.

"You said mostly. So.. what's kept you full in the past, stranger?" He paused for a second.

"Mm... Call me Lovecraft." The words floated lazily off his tongue. He hadn't graced you with his name yet, though he knew yours.

Your eyebrows shot up with amusement. "Well that's certainly a step in the right direction..., Lovecraft. You starting to trust me now?" You chuckled a bit as he seemed to look regretful of the admission, turning to look away from you.

"Ugh...Yuck. My stomach aches when you call me by that name."

You openly face-palmed, albeit playfully.

"If that's your name, what else should I call you?"

He seemed to think for a moment.

"...How..ard..? No.. that doesn't feel right either.. Perhaps you should go back to calling me 'stranger'." He finished, crossing his arms with a deep frown.

"Howard? Hmm.. a bit old-fashioned, but I think it suits you well--" He gave you such a look of incredulous disgust that you sat, slack-jawed; you couldn't recall a single time he seemed to feel so strongly about anything.

"Absolutely not.. It feels too weird... ugh... no..no..." You watched as he pulled the blankets of your freshly made bed over his head, quite literally hiding under the covers, writhing a bit, like he'd been physically wounded by your attempt to call him by name.

Sighing once again, you stood up to pull the covers off his slender frame, but found that he tugged stronger than you could pull your fleecy bed-spread from him.

You sat next to him, dramatically flopping backwards until you were lying next to him, on top of the still-tucked in edge of the bedding.

"So your name must be Howard Lovecraft, huh?"

He made some sort of hissing sound and withdrew further under the blankets, curling into an ill-proportioned, too-leggy ball of a gangly, tall man.

"But you don't like either of those."

No hiss. A good sign.

"What about a nickname?" You looked over at the lump under the covers; had there been no linen divider, your noses could almost touch.

You swore you heard a low grumble in his throat. Not particularly a pleased sound, but it wasn't an aggressive 'no'.

You put a wary hand on where you thought the back of his head would be, feeling his breath catch and his body shiver with the unexpected sensation. He didn't pull away, like you'd thought he would. This was the one of the first times you'd been this close to him, and the first time you'd touched him, even if indirectly, through thick cotton.

You admonished the feeling, letting all the possibly nicknames for 'Howard' run through your head.

"What about... Howie?" You whispered to the ball next to you.

He growled again, this time more than pleased.

Not a man of many words, but as you smiled, happy with with yourself for finding something he liked, he emerged from the blankets, navy hair mussed, but looking overall content with his new namesake.

He reached out an touched the base of your head curiously, as you had done to him, light smile gracing his face.

"Perhaps..is this... affection, you displayed to me?" He asked quizzically, voice soft and slow with all the wonder of a dreaming child.

The moment was gentle, you thought, but you were having trouble focusing on his words with the deep, freezing chill the emanated from his fingertips, making your skin prickle with goosebumps.

You took the icy plunge and braced yourself for discomfort as you embraced him quickly and tightly, head resting in the crook of his neck.

He seemed confused and surprised, arms still where they were a moment ago, helplessly curled around the air.

"Yes, Howie. This is affection."

When his arms finally came down to awkwardly squeeze you, you realized this was the first time you had given him attention in which he responded well; no shivers of discomfort or anxious expressions in sight. He seemed to actually enjoy the embrace, freezing cold and trying to keep your teeth from chattering as you were.

You weren't sure how you'd not realized he was this cold before. Though you'd been staying decently far away from him, you thought that he would eminate this raw polar cold from a distance, yet you'd not felt a single change in the air until you were in his arms.

Though he'd relaxed and began deepening the embrace himself now, you had to pull away out of sheer discomfort, briefly looking down to see your bare skin blue and purple-tinged where you'd touched him for too long.

You hoped he didn't notice, although he looked disoriented after you'd broken the hug off so suddenly, looking a bit upset and ready to cling to you again, so you changed the topic with a gentle smile.

"You didn't answer my question earlier. What's kept you full in the past?" You repeated, knowing he'd already blanked on the question from minutes earlier.

He blinked for a moment, thoughts slowly returning to your prior conversation.

"I've not been full since I was a child. I ate copious amounts of crabs and fish, until I was sated for a few hours." At least he was more open to your probing questions now.

"Wow, your parents must have thought you a real challenge, huh?"

He looked down at you from his high perch with an unnerving gaze, not at all kindly and curious as it was a moment ago.

"I was capable of feeding myself. My parents had nothing to do with it."

"Oh.. ok, then."

You looked down at your feet, shuffling to the other side of the room before he took your hand, unexpectedly. A chill ran through your body, but his touch was so soft and pleading for you to look back at him, you didn't pull away.

"Am I too cold?" He asked, observing the way your fingers reddened in his grasp.

"A bit," you laughed lightheartedly, through half-chattering teeth.

He dropped his hand, ruffling through an inner pocket of his coat until he pulled out thick, woolen gloves.

Pulling them on, he took your hand again.

"Better?" You barely felt the chill of his hands this time. Smiling, you nodded at him.

"Let's go get lunch, Howie."

He let out a low, quiet laugh, accompanied by a near-impercievable smile, that barely reached your ears.

Maybe the third time would be the charm.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Note: Can be taken as a (long-before) prequel to 'Primal'. I want most of my Lovecraft stories to follow the same essential plot and lore I set up, so they shouldn't have many differences unless it's a request.

Thanks for reading!

June 5th, 2023

-Kaori

[feralmoonlight]

Oops today has turned into me musing endlessly on the spooky season Vampire Sun and Werewolf Moon (Same body, more like different mindset enough for Sun during the day to give Moon his own personality in the back of his mind, but it’s one single mind/consciousness and not two individuals) SO I’m just going to wordvomit the various blurbs ive been throwing at people today down here, enjoy. TO RECAP Good afternoon I am here to throw a horribly indulgent and stupid AU into the void of vampire!Sun and werewolf!Moon as a messed up 2 for 1 deal because this universe is painfully lacking on vampires afflicted with lycanthropy and in this essay I will-

You hadn’t wanted to move to a new town. This move was not by choice. But since you were still living with your family, when the decision came down hard with no room for arguments, and the roof over your head was in danger, what other choice did you really have? It wasn’t like your job was one of a kind, boring minimum wage that you could throw a stone in the new city and find something just as good. All of your best friends were online so that at least wasn’t a problem… One upside to this new location was the town itself at least? It was Old with a capital OH. The kind that made you imagine history was walking beside you on the streets as you explored. Details you never saw in today’s modern building decorated every facade, houses that were older than any of the residents reigned in their own unique glory. Some so opulent you couldn’t imagine moving in them, and some so run down it was a wonder they were still standing. You’d admit it was pretty cool, if you weren’t still fighting your ire at having your old life uprooted from under you. From up on the veranda of one of those more fancy looking houses, the occupant leaned against the railing, openly watching you with wide eyes as you meandered down the street. It was weird. Really weird. Weirder still when his hand shot into the air in an enthusiastic wave, way too much energy for such a hot fall afternoon. You offered a timid wave back. Interesting neighbors…

Unrelated, non robo au where sunny is this sweet daycare worker dude that is also a part time florist(MAYBE? possibly scrapped?) but he's also a full time werewolf and moon doesn't like company. Because spooktober

TLDR Vampire Sunny hires you on a whim to maybe do some casual yardwork for him cause the sun is icky and also maybe as a snack when he gets bored ish? But you manage to charm him enough the first time or two that he only takes a sip and is like. Mm Yes Good, I’ll keep this one around for a bit.

Unrelated I've decided that for the vampire/werewolf thing, I'm not going to really 'describe' human Sun, cause it feels weird. A seemingly ever grinning face, tall, large hands with long fingers, almost unnervingly thing but somehow way stronger than the lean frame should be capable of, an eccentric ruffly wardrobe that leans towards rich deep reds and vibrant golds... yes. But details about hairstyle, skintone, anything like that ain't gonna happen More ramblings under the cut~

I don’t know the source of this image, friend linked it to me off pintrest but it’s so spot on I love it so I cry. Also, sun is absolutely going to tie a little ribbon around your neck with a little sun/moon charm. Both a 'this is mine' and a 'leave it alone' billboard to others in the area Friend also linked me this Lunar Clock Thing

He has you doing all this work to make his yard look usable and welcoming and stuff but he only ever looks at it. Doesn't enjoy it. And no one seems to ever visit even though he's super friendly, what gives? You'd think such an old neighborhood everyone would know each other but no one seems to really talk about Sunny much Like at all. No one knows Jack about this guy Yet without fail, every time you pass by, there he is, stepping outside to wave hello and tempt you over for a chat[2:43 PM]Eventually finds out you do schooling at home and offers you his tutelage. Apparently this dude is also stupidly smart about a lot of things??

More excuses to make you visit, to have you linger. Sit closer. Definitely not lean against you with a slow deep breath, definitely not smelling you for some creepy reason. Not that you pick up on it. But he is a little less warm than you expected. The closeness is enough to set your cheeks on fire and he pulls back immediately, excusing himself to put on some tea(and get a soda for you. He started keeping those around just for you, you realized)

Always rushes you away before dark though. Says the streets are dangerous.

Very dangerous

Were!moon is basically a feral beast under the full moon but as it waned to nothing he has a cold clarity to him. Suns happy self sombers and while it's still the same mind, it's a different personality that takes over at night that pushes him to give into his more instinctual urges of all kinds

Sunset is a toss up on if he's safe or bordering into dangerous based on time of the month. You could probably survive when the night is dark with only some minor nibbling but after the halfway point your life is on the line. He will kill. For now. Time may change this

Oh, don't be fooled, this is already the case, and the reason (second reason) he didn't turn you into a one time snack. The fact you're absolutely delicious is definitely a first, an exquisite treat to be savored slowly, but it's after the second or third visit that the reason he was excited to see you come by after that wasn't purely because he had the hungies. The times you come in to sit down and spend time with him, at ease around him,  laughing with him even... It's something he hasn't gotten to enjoy in years, if not a couple decades. The inner voice of Moon in his mind that tells him to protect himself, remember how humans hunted him, would still hunt him if they knew, the danger of it all... it's something to be wary of, but you... You don't shy away(much) when he rests a hand on your shoulder(without his influence), you come to him willingly, stay longer than is necessary, and what should have been just a simple effort to keep things tidy in his yard has, of your own doing turned into making it nicer.  You've brought new flowers, he's seen you scrub old moss from some of the little statue figures that hide around the bushes, you even asked him about paint to touch up parts of the fence that had begun to rust to keep it in good condition(something you were meaning to do one of these nights, but just hadn't bothered the motivation). It's a friendship, true and true, even if you're unaware that you're befriending an actual monster that isn't out of the woods of ruining your friendship yet. He would truly be upset with himself it if happened.

Again.

Aaaand I think that’s all I really have at the moment for this, but take it and enjoy <3

[servnahas]

Canon mark 5d ii pic review

Canon mark 5d ii pic review full#

Canon mark 5d ii pic review Pc#

Canon mark 5d ii pic review iso#

So how are the images? I noticed that the Mark IV tends to air on the darker side during automatic light metering, giving images a deeper, more contrasty look than in the past. I always hate learning new button layouts, and here I was largely spared. Everything else is pretty much, thankfully, untouched from the older model. The photo/video switch dial is, oddly, inverted from the Mark III, but it’s not something you really notice unless you’re comparing bodies side by side. There is a new button occupying the space between the rear wheel and multi-angle thumb button that I have not quite figured out what it does yet, but it’s there.

Canon mark 5d ii pic review Pc#

This means the left side of the camera is significantly more spacious, with only the headphone jack, mic jack, PC cable port, mini HDMI and USB taking up that space. Minor body changes include moving the “Mark IV” lettering up from the bottom right of the camera to up under the “5D” designation to make room for the newly-placed remote trigger port. It just makes so much sense, and though the archaic menu system is still the same as it always has been, at least navigating it by touch is less frustrating than it has been in the past. Once you have it, you’ll wonder how you went so long without. The rear screen is big and bright, and the touch interface is responsive and totally useful. The touch screen is really nice, and it’s about time it made its way to the 5D line. It behaves exactly like you might hope, and anyone who has shot with Canon digital in the last 10 years will feel right at home with the 5D Mark IV.Īutofocus was reliable, fast and accurate, and I have high hopes that it will behave just as wonderfully as the 1DX Mark II, seeing as the autofocus system is taken right out of that excellent camera. It holds much like the the beloved 5D Mark III, but perhaps a bit lighter. Images were taken with either the Sigma 35mm f/1.4 or the 20mm f/1.4.įrom a handling standpoint, the camera feels great.

Canon mark 5d ii pic review full#

For those lamenting the video features (and lack thereof), you’ll have to wait for our full review.Īll images have been uploaded at full resolution, and can be viewed by clicking on any of the smaller previews shown below. In this first impressions review, we’re going to look specifically at still image shooting and the shooting experience. For the last two years fans have been waiting for this camera (the realistic fans… the crazed ones have been expecting it for far longer), and now that it has arrived… mixed emotions are flying around from across the Canon faithful. Let's look at how the size of the Canon 5D MII's Full frame sensor compares with other standard sensor sizes.It’s really challenging to review a camera that has had so much hype and expectation behind it like the Canon 5D Mark IV has. You can find the details of their analysis of Canon 5D MII here. Canon 5D MII sensor has been tested by DxO Mark and got an overall score of 79 for its image quality. Check the comparison of Canon 5D MII vs Sigma fp L or take a look at Highest resolution DSLR cameras list.ĭxOMark is a benchmark that scientifically assesses image quality of camera sensors. Sigma fp L with its 61.0MP sensor is leading in this class.

Canon mark 5d ii pic review iso#

5D MII has a native ISO range of 100 - 6400 which can be boosted to 50 - 25600 and it can save files in RAW format which gives you a wider room for post processing.Ĭanon 5D MII is not the highest resolution Full frame camera. You can shoot at maximum resolution of 5616 x 3744 pixels with aspect ratios of and 3:2. Canon 5D MII has a 21.0MP Full frame (36 x 24 mm ) sized CMOS sensor and features Digic 4 processor.

[tempestimes]

If not evident already, I just finished watching Belle (竜とそばかすの姫, The Dragon and The Freckled Princess) and I absolutely loved it.

It doesn't need to be said if you've seen any of the clips, but it's an absolutely gorgeous film. It's a feast visually and a musical delight. The VFX left me stunned, and both the 2D and 3D worlds were a delight to experience. Suzu's outfits in U were gorgeous and Nakamura Kaho has such a beautiful voice. Though the plot is a little disjointed in places, it comes together beautifully in the end. There are so many stories that are told in this film. Though it clearly does draw inspiration from the Beauty and the Beast fairytale, this film explores the themes of trauma, abuse, the internet, and making human connections that aren't necessarily romantic. I cried five, maybe more times watching it. The only word that I can really describe it with is beautiful. You just have to watch it.

[dragonmuse]

re: Izzy brain mazes, I adore the interlude where Izzy manages to talk Lucius around to going out in his tank top and is revealed to have been angling for a nude photoshoot. I'd love to read more about how Izzy thinks about Lucius's body - particularly that duality of Izzy being so utility-oriented by nature but exploring a visually artistic hobby like photography.

(ooooh anon I am not quite spicy tonight, but I am listing to starboard and just clear enough for coherency... probably. So away we go. The photo session here is too late in the timeline to be the one discussed in that ficlet, but allow me a little timey-wimey so Lucius can have his tat.)

Izzy chose photography because it seemed easy and adjacent enough to Lucius' interests to be a good strategic move. He could half-heartedly snap photos on his phone and let Lucius talk about artistic merit and that was fine.

Except, just like with Lucius himself, Izzy found himself unexpectedly seduced. To look through the world, a step removed, through glass, had given him the distance to find beauty in the horrid place. Laying on his back, phone in hand, waiting for some asshole, he saw a bird jet above him and it was easy as anything to press a button. To capture the movement of wings against the grey sky.

When Lucius talked him into buying a camera, a bulky monster with it's thick manual, it felt far more real. A thick bulky machine that fit perfectly in his hands and gave him all the excuse he needed to step back from conversation, from life itself and frame it the way he wanted.

When people started to wander into his frame, he figured that out more slowly. People were tricky, full of unexpected movement and unanticipated planes. Once he's successfully taken Teal's photos though, the flood gates opened. There were photoshoots at the Revenge itself, family pictures for Delly every year on Pickle's birthday, drag queens he'd never met emailed him now and again and sometimes he even took those jobs.

All that felt a little like a warmup for this. Nowhere exotic. Just his own bed, in his own place. His own lover spread across the sheets.

"Could you just stay like that for a second?" He asked.

"Mm?" Lucius blinked lazily at him.

"Just...stay."

"M'kay."

Izzy got his camera and kneeled on the mattress beside him.

"Right now?" Lucius' eyes snapped open. "Wait, I can-"

"Stay," Izzy said softly. "Please. You can close your eyes if you want."

"Thought you'd want me to pose or something," Lucius watched him warily, but didn't move.

"I want this. If I ask you to pose, you'll get all stiff and weird."

"Can't even see my dick," Lucius pointed out. "With the sheet and all."

"You're cock isn't the only thing that turns me on, even if that was what this was about," Izzy said absently, adjusting a few things on the camera.

"What is it about?"

"Can't explain it. You'll see."

It was definitely the first time Izzy had taken a picture while he was naked, let alone the subject, but it was hard to be uncomfortable all things considered. He chose carefully, framed each shot, took them as if he had precious film instead of a memory card. Eventually, Lucius started to drift again, probably despite himself.

They had woken up very early, a convenience in circadian rhythms that led to a sleepy rutting. Lucius had come home in the wee hours, tumbling into bed with a grunt, so it wasn't surprising that he was ready for round two of sleep.

His hair was mussed, flattened a bit on one side. His lips were parted ever so slightly. The way his head tilted showed off the long line of his neck and the curve of one shoulder. One hand rested on the sheet as if just about to shove it down or pry it up and over. Fabric gathered by his hip, just covering his modesty by the barest amount.

The cool early light of dawn painted shadows in interesting places as it sucked away the sharpness of color. It wouldn't look quiet black and white, but nor would it give the full story of the pale pink of his lips.

His other arm was extended towards Izzy's side of the bed. The hand open as if waiting to be filled. The dark stain of his tattoo was turned up to the hungry light.

The photos are easy enough to upload and edit, but Izzy leaves it for days. He wants time, wants to sit quietly with them and be alone in case they aren't what he expected.

He's hard on his own work, but he how can he be critical and the upturn of Lucius' wrist? The light dusting of hair on his chest? The sweep of his lashes against his cheek? This was not art that Izzy had made.

Camera is just an eye, he'd told Lucius once, and I'm always looking at you.

He chose his favorite, took care to balance the tone and the color. Left just the barest hint of it behind, enough so the subject didn't look carved from marble, but warm and alive against washed out sheets.

It was a little like a sketch with a soft pink blossom of a bite mark left on the shoulder.

He printed it out and left it on Lucius' pillow on the bed for him to discover that night.

"Heya, goblin!" Lucius called as he came in the door. Izzy looked up from his book as if he could just barely pull his attention away.

"Hey, pup."

"I'm going to get changed and then we can head out," Lucius swept by him, dropping down for a kiss then made his way way to the bedroom. "We shouldn't be late."

"Mm," Izzy agreed vaguely, listening closely.

He heard the second Lucius saw the picture, the sharp inhalation. Then the bedsprings as he sat down. Izzy waited. He couldn't bear to watch in case it wasn't good.

"This?" Lucius came back in the room a few minutes later, still in the clothes he'd come in with. And holding the photo. Very gingerly.

"Yeah," Izzy tossed the book aside.

"I thought you'd want a full on pinup situation," Lucius sat down beside him. Close enough for their thighs to touch. So not mad. Not even annoyed.

"We can do that too," Izzy shrugged. "But I just wanted...guess for you to see you like I see you. Like you do for me when you sketch me. Hell, when you sketch anyone. You make people look loved."

"I do?" Lucius asked, tentative and soft.

"You do," Izzy sighed. "You know you do. Not like I came up with that. That's what that reviewer said ages ago."

"No, I know, but it's different coming from you." Lucius stared down at himself. "I don't know how I look. It's hard to see the forest from the trees."

"Show it to Pete," Izzy suggested. "See what he thinks, huh?"

He'd meant later, but Lucius took out his phone right then and took a picture of the photo, sending it on.

"It would've been easier if you just wanted dick pics," Lucius muttered.

"Those I've got," Izzy reminded him.

"But I'm not a photographer," Lucius said wryly.

His phone pinged. He glanced down and then smiled. Tilted the message to Izzy.

Pete: ❤️❤️❤️ that's my husband. Wanna put that in my wallet.

"Might not shrink down that well," Izzy said amused. (Though later, he will carefully crop the photo down to just the beseeching hand, raise the contrast so the ring will shine golden, the fingers curved as if to keep it closer. That he will send to Pete without words in the email and he will, in fact, see it later in Pete's wallet).

"Maybe I should sketch you again," Lucius set the picture down carefully on the coffee table then turning to Izzy with a crooked grin.

"Any time, pup," Izzy slid a hand around his waist. "But I get a photo for every picture now."

"Oh do you?" Lucius raised his eyebrows.

"Mm. I do. Don't I?"

Lucius studied him for a moment, then nodded, "You do."

They make quite an album together as it turned out. But not just then. They were too busy being late to Frenchie's birthday party for that.

[nctsworld]

the yuletide boyfriend

✩‌ yangyang ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fluff | angst | smut | friends to lovers | ‌college au | 9k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ your one wish this year is to not be single during the holidays. yangyang, as your best friend, takes it upon himself to be your temporary boyfriend. soon enough, both parties begin to wish this new arrangement could last beyond the holidays. // part of the x-mas in ncity collection WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ implied ‌anxiety attack (during the first part of dec 24th – skip if need to), smut, mutual m*sturbation, couch s*x, angst, miscommunication, swearing RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ mature TAGLIST ⇾ @infnteen​ 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ this is my longest fic to date and also... might be my worst b/c i feel like the angst plot points don’t really make sense... but i hope y’all still enjoy!!! 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit!

NOVEMBER 30th

“So, anything special on your wishlist this year?”

Your best friend, Yangyang, asks you as you two sit next to each other on one of the many plush lounge couches in the Psychology building. It’s the usual lunch spot where you meet with him during your break between lectures.

The Psych building held much sentimental value for both of you because you met in Psych 101 during first year. Fast-forward three years later, neither of you expected to be the close friends that you are today.  

Chewing your sandwich, you ponder on his question for a bit. Through the transparent glass walls leading to outside, you see the trickle of students heading towards the building since class is about to start for the noon round of lectures. A couple, you assume by the tight hand-holding and nose kissing, giggles as they enter the building, glued to one another by the hip.

“Not really.” You drop your head downward to your lunch container, smiling to yourself. “I’m honestly just happy to have Mark in my life, especially at this point in the year.”

Yangyang nods in accordance and smiles too, understanding the story behind your sentiment.

The boyfriends you’ve had since first year have always broken up with you before the holidays, right before the end of November. Since you only became close during second year, Yangyang’s been around for two out of three of your cursed holiday break-ups.

To have Mark, your latest boyfriend, be with you and it being already December tomorrow, it was truly a blessing for you and a silver lining that maybe this was the year to break the curse. Yangyang was grateful too, wanting you to have the utmost happiness.    

You take another bite of your sandwich and tilt your chin toward the ramen eater.

“You?”

Yangyang slurps a few more noodles before he answers.

“I mean, the new Playstation would be nice,” he hums, mouth full.

Pointing the tip of your sandwich, you joke, “I’ll get it for you, but only if we share custody over it.”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head during a mid-slurp. “You know I can’t promise that.”

Both of you laugh in unison, living in the calm before the oncoming storm.

DECEMBER 5th

The E-Sports club for the university is hosting a party tonight and because Yangyang’s on one of the professional teams, he asked a few weeks ago if you and Mark wanted to attend. Of course you accepted; Mark also had some friends in the club.

However, when you text Yangyang in the afternoon, stating a change of mind, he knows something’s off.

Half an hour before the party starts, Yangyang decides to visit you. Thankfully you both lived on campus, but even if you lived across town, he’d still bus out to see how you were doing. He does it all the time to visit his family, anyway.  

In the living room, the two sudden knocks at your door startle you. Peering through the peephole, you see the usual sight of your best friend, his lips curled upward and thumbs tucked in his pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.

It feels like an eternity for him when you unlock your door. The hinges squeal as you open it hesitatingly, your face barely appearing through the agape crack.

Immediately, his smile dissolves. Your face is drained and blood-shot eyes avoiding his own confront him.

Yangyang has only seen you cry twice in the three years he’s known you:

Once, when you were freaking the fuck out over potentially failing a course (but, on the upside, you ended up passing the final to save your grade).

The second time was at his house for a family dinner, when his mom accidentally added too much hot chili sauce to her homemade beef noodle soup (let’s just say you weren’t the only one crying that night).

Those were tears of dread and physical discomfort.

But this… this was crying he’s never seen from you before. His chest collapses inward, fearful of the reason behind your tears.  

His voice shakes as he asks, “What happened? Are you okay?”

Neither of you are major huggers and only exchange them on the rare occasion.

However, this situation screams the necessity of it, so Yangyang lunges towards you, the collision swinging the door out of the way. His arms embrace you like a large, warm blanket. Comforting and safe.  

Despite the affection, emptiness has taken over your body. Tonight, you’re a dead, empty shell of who you normally are.

You feel weak to the bone, but you muster up enough energy to scarcely raise your arms over his back to return the hug. Your eyes are dry from all the crying you’ve done all day, but apparently you have more tears left in you to spare.

Your eyelids snap shut and your jaw clenches.  

“Mark broke up with me.”

Your words are muffled into his shoulder, but Yangyang hears it crystal clear.  

You break down, sobbing out of control over the statement.

As aforementioned, Yangyang’s been around for your last two, now three, break-ups. Sure, he’s aware of how grumpy and distant you can get, but you never cried in front of him. You made an effort to never have him see you at your lowest point.

And yet, here you are, drowning him in your misery. Guilt washes over you for drenching his bomber jacket, but Yangyang couldn’t give two shits. His arms squeeze tighter while he rubs your back tenderly.

After several minutes pass and your waterworks abate, you peel away from him. You sniffle and rub your nose with the back of your hand.

“Sorry about cancelling last minute.”

“Hey, no need to apologize,” he whispers soothingly.

“I’m just… so fucking frustrated.”

With fatigued eyes, you drag yourself back inside your apartment. Yangyang discreetly closes the door behind him and hurriedly uses his feet to push off his shoes. As he does so, your mouth begins to run off while you slowly pace around aimlessly.  

“Fucking done with boyfriends, especially when they think it’s so fucking awesome to keep breaking up with me right before the holidays.”

He kicks off his last stubborn shoe and catches you raking your hands through your hair, pulling it back firmly. Your lips are trembling, along with your entire frame.  

“Like I get that I’m horrible and needy and emotional—”

His mouth opens, wanting to cut in to disagree with you with all his heart, but he clamps it back shut and swallows, allowing you to blow your steam off.

“—but can’t they wait until the fucking new year? I don’t know, or maybe just don’t date me in the first place! I don’t know, I don’t fucking know anymore. I’m just cursed, Yangyang...”

You flop down onto the couch and sink into the ocean of shiny pleather, shutting your eyes and trying to stop crying for the nth time. The deep sting behind your eyelids pain you, but it pains Yangyang more to watch the events unfolding ahead of him.  

Unsure of what to say, Yangyang walks around the room. His gaze falls on your laptop screen and he frowns at the mostly bare Word document that stares back at him:  

“WISHLIST:   -KEEP ONE (1) FUCKING BOYFRIEND DURING THE CHRISTMAS SEASON!!!!!!!! GOD FUCKING SDKMFLDS”

There are a few more lines below it with more profanities and keyboard smashing. He quickly darts away, a pang of guilt striking for invading your privacy.

Then, he turns to you on the couch again. You’re now covering your eyes with your forearm, pressing your lips together. His chest twists and his throat is arid as a desert.

You’re in shambles and he’s dying to pick up the shattered pieces of you, wants to glue you back together. On a regular basis, Yangyang’s a talking machine and can talk your ear off for hours, but right now, he doesn’t know what to say to you in your current state. He second-guesses himself, wonders if he’s even that great of a friend if he can’t comfort you in your worst times.

Blowing out a long sigh and removing your arm, you speak aloud, “You should get going to the party.”

Like awakening from a deep slumber, you rise up sluggishly and sit up on the couch, slouched over. The other figure in the room steps closer to you.  

“Sorry about your jacket, by the way,” you say. Your body is still, but your glazed eyes move to the dark spot on the middle of his shoulder. He glances at it and shrugs.  

“It’s better like this anyway,” he says with a gentle smile, and the tight knot in his heart softens at the flicker of your own smile, albeit a small one. Unfortunately, it fades in a few seconds. “I don’t want to leave you like this, though.”

You stare at the used, crumpled balls of tissues scattered on the living room table. Some also ended up on the floor. Break-ups are shit and 98% inevitable, but you know you’ll eventually get over it. You always do.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

He raises an eyebrow, as if asking, “Are you sure?” The lack of a worded reply causes you to notice the question written on his face.  

“Go,” you plead with a feeble laugh. “Have fun for me.”

Both of you head towards your front door again. Crossing your arms, you lean your head against the door frame and attempt a smile for your best friend.

“Thanks again for checking up on me.”

Yangyang nods with a half-smile, half-pout, “Of course.”

You give him a departing wave prior to sealing your door.

Usually, Yangyang would bus from your place to the student union building, where the party is being held. Instead, he zippers up his jacket and stuffs his fists into his pockets, opting to bear the early winter chill to walk his thoughts off. His blazing self-doubt burns at first, but he overcomes it by focusing on ideas to fix your accursed dating rut instead.  

Halfway through the walk, a light bulb moment occurs. A plan begins to brew on the surface of his mind and he thinks on it for the rest of the week.  

DECEMBER 11th

It’s been almost a week since you last saw Yangyang.

Finals started already, so classes were done for the semester and thus, your lunch meet-ups halted too. On top of that, since you were simultaneously moping and studying, you hadn’t really texted him much, nor had he, besides the occasional check-up text on how studying was going and random memes. Yangyang knew you preferred time alone to heal and he respected that.  

He also thought six days was enough time to get yourself back on your feet.  

Yangyang’s at your front door once again, but this time with two bowls of his mom’s beef noodle soup in tow.  

“Long time, no see,” you greet. Your tone is chipper, but your eyes look heavy, which could be partially from studying, Yangyang thinks. His smile deepens, content that you seem a lot better than the last time he visited.

“Delivery for two,” he raises the bag in his hand.

“And if I told you I already ate dinner?” you playfully retort.

The boyish man shrugs defeatedly, “Then I’ll tell my mom you hate her cooking—”

“You didn’t say it was your mom’s, Yangyang. Oh, my God,” you gasp, half-mockingly. You rush to grab the bags out of his hand and stroll towards your tiny kitchen. “Start off with that next time.”

As you remove the containers from the bag and onto the granite countertop, Yangyang shuts the door and takes his shoes off.  

“So, I’m gonna be upfront and say that I may have come here with a proposal.”

“Changed your mind about the shared custody of the Playstation?”

“I’m still considering that one.” Finally in his socks, he slings his backpack off his shoulder and plops it onto the couch along with his jacket. He stands next to you by the counter. “But it’s on the same page as that. Remember that day we were talking about wishlists?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum as you rip off the lid of one of the bowls. Blatant wisps fly upward and you inhale the savoury aroma, followed by a heavenly sigh.  

“Last time I was here… I might’ve seen what you wrote on your laptop.”

Your expression immediately changes into full-on cringe. You bring a palm over to your face.

“Oh, God. Let’s not talk about that. That was just weepy, lonely me talking.”

Yangyang pops off the lid for his bowl and steps into your kitchen, rummaging through your drawers for chopsticks. “So you’re telling me you don’t want a boyfriend for Christmas?”

Your hand flies off your face. Eyes widening, you spew, “Do you have a boyfriend in your pocket, ready for me to have?”

In your open hand, he places a pair of chopsticks into it. “Well, actually, I was thinking—”

Sternly, you point the chopsticks at him. “Don’t you dare set me up with your friends.”

He counters and points his at you, “Even better than that.”

With your interest piqued, you slide yourself onto the counter stool and mix the noodles around, anticipating to hear Yangyang’s fantastic plan. Your friend sits on the other stool, facing you. He pauses for a second, taking a deep breath.  

“Why don’t I be your boyfriend for the holidays?”

You freeze, and the noodles’ drips above your bowl are deafening to both individuals. Laughing awkwardly, you break your frozen state to drop your chopsticks and turn your head to look at him.

Sputtering, you say, “What?”

Unnerved, his mouth pinches to one side, thinking maybe he shouldn’t have even said anything in the first place. This was stupid, so stupid, but it’s out in the open and Yangyang already dug his grave—he may as well lay in it.  

“Well, for one, it’s something on your wishlist that I can easily get,” he pauses mid-sentence, glancing upward in thought. “Well, really, fill? Is that a better way to put it?”

He continues, eyes back on you, “And two, I’m not setting you up with a stranger or someone you wouldn’t be comfortable with. I assume you know me well enough that you’re comfortable around me?”

Yangyang lifts an upturned palm and raises an eyebrow, waiting for a response to his assumption. Petulantly, you shake your head playfully and stick out your tongue at him.  

Rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze drops down to the floor for his last point. His voice lowers.

“And, I don’t know, we’d just hang out like we usually do during that time, except we’d do more couple-y things.”

Realizing the implication of his words, he widens his eyes. “I mean, we'll do whatever you’re comfortable with, obviously. We don’t have to do any of the physical stuff—”

You burst into a giggle at his rambling and hold a hand out, cutting him off. “Okay, Yang. I get it.”  

Yangyang watches your next moves carefully. You’re peering off to one side and picking at the tips of your fingers. After a minute that feels like forever, you nod slowly.

“I guess you have a point. We are sorta like a couple already.”

Your best friend sighs in relief, grinning that you’re not outright rejecting the idea.

“So,” you meet his eyes and bunch a shoulder up towards your ear. “We’ll just be a couple until what, New Year’s?”

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugs indifferently. “Whatever you want. It’s your Christmas wish.”

You chuckle and shake your head in disbelief that you two are actually making an agreement for Yangyang to be your temporary, holiday boyfriend.

Honestly, it’s a little crazy... but maybe it’s the perfect thing to get your mind off of Mark and the handful of holiday exes hanging above your head.

“Okay, since my last final is on the 21st, let’s start ‘dating’ then and we’ll play everything by ear, see how it goes.”

Yangyang bobs his head eagerly. “Sounds good, soon-to-be girlfriend.”

He sticks a hand out for you to shake. You take it firmly, sealing the deal and flashing him a grin.

“Soon-to-be boyfriend.”  

Although the night goes on like usual between the two of you, you couldn’t deny how ecstatic you are to finally have a boyfriend during the holidays, even if it was technically your best friend as a stand-in.

DECEMBER 21st

Tonight’s your first date with Yangyang.

That sounds weird to say, you admit to yourself, but it’s the truth.

After you stroll out of your last final of the semester, Yangyang’s waiting for you inside near the main exit of the building with several layers on, including his hoodie over his head and a knitted scarf underneath. His attention leaves his phone and he stuffs it into pocket as he notices you heading over.  

“Hey, girlfriend,” he welcomes you, beaming.

You snicker at the unfamiliar label. You wonder if you’re going to get used to this, even if it’s only for two weeks.  

“Hey, boyfriend,” you grin harder as the word falls from your lips, trying your best not to outright burst into laughter. “Where we heading off to?”

Although you said both of you could play the dating by ear, Yangyang’s been keen on scheduling plans for the upcoming days. You told him he didn’t have to, however, he insisted by saying that he wouldn’t only be a horrible boyfriend, but a horrible friend if he couldn’t make the next weeks fun for you.

Yangyang was anything but a horrible friend, and the fact that he was willing to be your holiday boyfriend to make you happy proved it further. Nevertheless, you gladly let him take the reins.

“I was thinking the movies tonight? See the latest Marvel film?”

Concurring to the idea, you scurry towards the bus stop and are movie-theatre bound to the nearest one off-campus. Arriving at the theatre, Yangyang and you buy your tickets and a popcorn to share, then head into the respective auditorium where the movie is playing. Since the movie’s been running for a couple of weeks, the auditorium is fairly empty, giving you two the chance to snag perfect middle seats with nobody else is in the row.  

Up to this point, aside from the name-dropping of boyfriend and girlfriend, this feels less like a date and more like any other hang-out with him. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing awkward.

But that changes during a third of the movie.

You’re both so immersed by the screen that neither party notices the other’s hand when both of you reach for the popcorn in Yangyang’s lap at the same time.  

A jolt runs through as your hands brush together. The duo’s eyes tear away from the screen and flit to the action happening in real-time. The touch lingers for several moments.  

“Sorry,” you quickly mumble, drawing your hand back slightly, but still hovering over the popcorn.    

“Uhm,” Yangyang licks his lips and visibly gulps under the screen’s bright glare.

He whispers, his voice almost cracking, “As your boyfriend, can I hold your hand?”

Okay, this is just your best friend, acting as your temporary boyfriend, asking to hold your hand. No big deal, no big deal at all.

Yet, the thunderous knocking in your ears, louder than the explosions blasting through the theatre’s speakers, suggests otherwise.

You don’t even register it, but you’re already nodding in response. Your breathing slows to the rate of Yangyang’s hand inching over. At the anticipated contact, you gasp softly. His smooth fingers clasp over yours. Since the arm rest in the middle of you is positioned upward, there’s no obtrusion and you relax, letting your hands mingle in between the empty space.

Without looking at one another, both of you smile bashfully to yourselves as you try to continue to focus on the screen.

After a while, because you aren’t exactly holding hands, you spread your fingers, hastily doing so because you don’t want him to think you’re breaking the interaction, and twist your palm to properly interlock hands with him. You give Yangyang’s hand a warm, gentle squeeze. He does the same and even strokes his thumb against your skin.

Talk about playing everything by ear. Who knew you’d be hand in hand on the first date?

You attempt to not think much on it, but Yangyang’s hand in yours feels... so right, like your hand was made for this, for his to hold. Like you should’ve done this way sooner.

And if Yangyang’s thoughts could be heard, he’s thinking the same.

Despite the mutual fear of sweaty palms, neither of you desire to let go, so much that you not only hold hands during the rest of the movie, but throughout the bus ride back to campus and all the way until he escorts you to your front door.

With a certain charge in the atmosphere, you exchange sweet good-byes. That night, after the culmination of stress from finals and your worries of your holiday exes, you finally have a peaceful sleep, looking forward to your date with Yangyang tomorrow.

DECEMBER 22nd

“Babe, how do I look?”

“Very pretty, honey.” A bundled up Yangyang winks at you from behind his phone.

The second date is an evening at a Christmas light festival at a botanical garden on the outskirts of town. The lights illuminate so strongly; there was a glowing dome-like hue over the location that seemed to reach the dark sky as you got off the bus.

When stepping foot into the garden, all the encompassing lights mesmerize you. Lights on the various greenery, lights as decorative art pieces, lights lining the pathways. Different shades of colours and shapes engulf the massive area.

Yangyang’s currently in the middle of taking your photo near an arch tangled with dark blue, gold, and white bulbs. All night long, you’ve been mockingly using endearing terms, but, despite the frigid air, your cheeks heat up over something else he just said.

“You think I’m pretty?” you genuinely ask, breaking your pose.  

He lowers his phone a bit, his jaw dangling.

“Uh, I mean,” he giggles awkwardly, nodding softly. “Yeah.”

Yangyang never told you, but he initially sat near you in Psych 101 because he thought you were the most stunning girl in the class. And sure, he was a little disappointed at the time to find out you had a boyfriend, but that didn’t mean you two couldn’t still be friends. Other than the first few weeks he had a crush on you, he’s never thought of you as more than a friend.  

But those feelings are resurfacing, hitting him in the chest like a bag of bricks, due to moments like this one—you’re batting your eyelids, gaze straying elsewhere, and adorably chewing on your lower lip.  

“And you’re not just saying that as my holiday boyfriend?”

Pouting to one side, he shakes his head cutely. “Mm-mm.”

On the flipside, the beginning with Yangyang for you was strictly platonic. You were dating Haechan at the time you met him. When Haechan broke up with you later that fall, you kept a distance from dating for a while, heartbroken from the high school love gone sour. During that period, you never told him, but you did run through the possibility of dating Yangyang since you got along so well... until you met Jaemin earlier the next semester, who stole your heart. Ever since then, you’ve never seen Yangyang under that light again.

Despite that, you can’t deny how attractive he is, and now that you’re single and technically dating him, you embrace the fact with open arms.  

Beaming as bright as the lights, you tug him by the end of his puffer jacket’s sleeve to bring him closer to you.

“C’mon, handsome, let’s take some pictures together.” Prickles rise under Yangyang’s cheeks from the off-hand compliment.  

Holding your phone up in the air at about an arm’s length away, the side of your heads touch to prepare for a few selfies. When you finish capturing them, Yangyang’s hovering over your shoulder as you scroll through to glance through the photos.

“We look good together,” you comment. “Don’t you think?”

In sync, your heads turn to meet each other. Your eyes waver from the blatant clouds of your breaths and over to his lips. The clouds become rapid bursts as you begin to lean forward. So does Yangyang.

“Do you guys want a picture together?” someone suddenly asks. The abrupt voice drags you both apart instantly, crushing the moment into pieces.

“Sure,” you peep, fumbling to hand your phone over to the stranger.

Posing, Yangyang’s hand rests around the middle of your back, which is the norm when you take pictures with him, but he pulls you in snugly. You smile even wider, relishing in the new-level of intimacy and allow yourself to be truly content among his presence.

“You guys are such a cute couple,” the stranger gushes while they return your phone prior to walking away.

“I guess we are, huh, babe?” you jut your tongue out in jest at him. This time, you indulge in the endearing term without a sliver of mockery.  

Yangyang copies you, jutting his tongue out further than yours, and seizes your hand to continue the tour around the gleaming garden.

The almost-kiss isn’t mentioned for the rest of the night, nor is it acted upon, but both individuals dwell on the near occurrence before sleep that evening, staring longingly at their bedroom ceiling.

DECEMBER 23rd

For the third date, you find yourselves at the campus’ dedicated ice rink arena to partake in ice skating.

You’ve skated a few times in the past, but you’re by no means a pro. On the other hand, this is apparently Yangyang’s first time, and he’s already skating circles around you.

“Show off,” you grumble as he does another lap past you. Your gloved hands are splayed out in front of you, careful not to fall flat on your face.

Turning on his blades, he rebounds over to you.

“Sorry,” he pants. His raised cheeks glow an adorable shade of pink. “This is really fun when you get the hang of it.”

Yangyang intertwines his fingers with yours before you can say anything. “C’mon, take my hand.”  

At first, it was sweet to skate alongside your holiday boyfriend, notwithstanding the few times you almost trip. As the minutes pass, you think you’re getting the hang of it, but suddenly, Yangyang unleashes your hand and glides ahead of you, abandoning you to slide at a swift pace that is definitely out of your comfort zone.  

“Yangyang, what the fuck?!” you screech, completely disregarding the handful of surrounding parents with their kids, the former sending daggers your direction. Your ankles struggle to make a T-shape to stop, but the struggling only somehow makes you move faster.  

As he spins to face you, now skating backwards with ease, he says, “See, you got the hang of it-oomph—”

Air’s struck from his lungs when you crash into his body. Thankfully, Yangyang skids his blades harshly against the ice and is able to steady and support you within his arms.

“You little fucker,” you gripe, lightly punching him in the arm.

He chuckles blithely, “Sorry, but it was kinda funny, you gotta admit.”

You breathe a large huff, which makes you note how your hair is falling over your face after the catastrophe. You’re about to lift your hand to rearrange the strands, but Yangyang beats you to it and is in the midst of tucking them behind your ear.

The knocking in your ears reappears with a vengeance and the physical source of the knocking is thrashing violently against your chest.

Your scorching breaths fuse in the refrigerated rink as Yangyang eliminates the inches of space between, his plush mouth ultimately converging with yours.

You have to constantly remind yourself to breathe under Yangyang’s intensity, and remind yourself that you’re in a public space and shouldn’t be making out like this.

But everyone’s skating around the couple, daring to not disrupt the affectionate display.

God, you don’t know when was the last time you’ve been kissed like this. Have you ever even experienced a kiss that was a fraction of this? Yangyang daintily cups your cheeks like you’re glass, but his lips press ruggedly into yours, inflaming your entirety and melting any existence of your figurative fragility.  

You ignore the echo in the back of your mind that reminds you he’s your temporary boyfriend.

The Talk will inevitably occur, but your future self could deal with it. Presently, you’re too caught up, drowning in Yangyang’s embrace.

DECEMBER 24th

On Christmas Eve, Yangyang decides to bring you to an outdoor Christmas market.

Understandably, since it’s the day before Christmas, the place is absolutely packed. For the first fifteen minutes or so, it’s joyous being immersed in the Christmas spirit with the assorted little shops and their respective products. You’re holding Yangyang’s hand tightly, pointing and half-shouting over the bustle about the items that catch your eye.

Unfortunately, someone accidentally bumps against your arms and your hand is gone from his.

Swivelling your head, searching through the crowd, it occurs to you that you officially lost Yangyang.

Your feet come to a halt as your hand attempts to dig into your jacket pocket to pluck your phone out, but the moving crowd forces you to constantly follow the stream.

You yell for him, but words can’t materialize. Your windpipe tightens. Your breath is becoming shallower and shallower. Blood pulses in your ears alarmingly, blocking out the clamour from around you. Your mind’s running everywhere without control.

Where is your boyfriend?

No, scratch that, he’s not your actual boyfriend—where is your best friend?

Did he leave you? He would never.

Right?

But what happens when all of this is over? Will you still have your best friend?

You’ve avoided The Talk long enough, but you didn’t expect to catch feelings for him. Not like this.  

Maybe you’re just destined to be alone.

Is this how it feels to actually lose him?

Tears fight your vision. You hear a faint call of your name, but you can’t urge yourself to turn around, sinking only further into the sea of anonymity. You’re just a face in a crowd, all alone, with no one who cares—

Yangyang grasps you by the arm and maneuvers you aside to a less busy area behind one of the vendor stands.

“Oh, God, thought I lost you there—”

You cut him off, hugging him with all your might and stuff your face in his chest cushioned by the downy layers of his winter jacket. Yangyang immediately drapes his arms securely around you, reading your uneasiness.  

“Hey, I got you. I got you,” he soothes, running a hand through your hair. “God, not my best idea. Sorry for bringing you here.”

You shake your head, wordlessly informing him that it’s okay. You’re just glad to be with him again.

“Wanna go home?”

You nod solemnly, and Yangyang zips you out of there in minutes with his arm tucked by your side,  ensuring he doesn’t lose you in the crowd again.

Fortunately, the jitters mostly disappear when you arrive at your place in the late afternoon. You’re in the middle of rummaging through your keys to unlock your door.

“Sorry I didn’t have anything else planned for today,” he mumbles, leaning with folded arms against the wall.

“Did you...” You insert the correct key and turn the lock, clicking the door open. Your gaze lifts to match his. “Did you wanna maybe have dinner with me tonight? I was thinking of ordering pizza in.”

The grin that reaches his eyes is a sufficient answer for you.

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” He hangs his arm around your shoulder and plants a kiss atop your head.

After chomping down pizza and playing a few rounds of Super Smash Bros. on Yangyang’s Switch, you peer over to him on your living room couch while he’s figuring out which character he should play next.  

The little mental voice in the back of your mind prods you, reminding that you should really, really have The Talk soon. The Talk that you swept under the rug at the start by saying you’d play everything by ear.

Four dates later, and the thought of this ending scares the living daylights out of you. This not only including the interim relationship, but the dire possibility of the friendship itself too. Is it possible to go back to how you were, flipping it off like a light switch?

But the internal voice is smothered as you’re drawn to his pouting lips in thought. His pouting, oh-so kissable lips. Following the ice skating kiss yesterday, you only shared a good-bye kiss when he dropped you off. Since then, you’ve been itching to have his lips on yours again.

Yangyang eventually detects your lack of focus and finds you gawking at his mouth. Your gaze dashes to his eyes, blinking innocently, but then his eyes flicker to your mouth.

The tension in the room snaps. You two carefully throw the Switch controllers off to one side and attach yourselves together. Unlike the crashing of your bodies at the ice rink, this one is purposeful. Deliberated, as his forehead presses into yours and his tender caress carries your cheek. Your body plummets backwards until Yangyang pins you completely into the couch.

Initially, the lip-locking is gentle and mild. Your fingers lay in the vicinity of his angular visage and sturdy upper frame, in contrast to his hand curling around your waist in a light squeeze.

Soon, hands traverse to other regions—his back, your thigh, his stomach, your ass. Each touch seeking, craving, whining. Tongues slinking and dancing with appetite. Your bodies buzz for more.

Open-mouthed kisses transition from the damp lips to each other’s necks. The touches dig deeper, thriving with hunger. Your back bows, body curving into his. Grinding ensues and his robust desire is blatant against your own pulsing passion.

“You don’t happen to have any condoms on you, do you?” you groan upwards to the ceiling.

He retracts from your neck to swing his head side to side, grumbling a “Sorry, we can stop...” yet you interrupt his apology by cupping his covered length. The guttural groan he exhales into your lips makes you shiver with pleasure.

“Doesn’t mean we still can’t have fun with our hands...” you say slyly.

“Fuck yeah,” he rasps, smirking, before diving in again to taste your mouth.

Clothes are stripped with the assistance of each other, leaving you with only your bra on while Yangyang opts to be completely bare. He tops your body in the same position once more.

On the couch arm rest, your head is perched with his hand clutching the space next to it for leverage. Both figures are too scatter-brained to delve into the exquisite nudity of one another, hands flying desperately to your respective arousals.

Your pretty fingers wrap around his possession almost exactly when he dips two digits into your warmth. In unison, two sharp, quiet gasps pierce the room.

“Shit, you’re so wet,” he hisses observantly. You’re so overwhelmed by the bliss that you can’t assemble any sort of response.

Your mouth’s parted to one side, chest soaring with each plunge. Through his clouded vision, he ambles over your curves and lines and yearns to see your breasts, but he respects your choice of keeping it on and opts to ambush the expanse with kisses. Your chest is launched further into his mouth and Yangyang assumes you’re enjoying this.

Fearing friction burn, you drop him from your grip momentarily, swiping a few licks over your palm. When your hand pumps him again, now drenched with saliva, grunts reverberate against your skin.  

“Yangyang?” you whimper, causing his face to pull away from the temple of your body.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’m-I’m close.” And he can attest to it; the contractions around him are increasing, harshly squeezing his fingers.    

“Same,” he pants.

Your best friend flicks his wrist with ignition, securing your waves of elation. You attempt to do the same, but it’s difficult when he’s also sloppily thrusting himself into your fist, so you simply clench your grasp harder. His features pinch and choppy moans dribble as he yields to his climax, gushing himself over your stomach.  

Still sucking in lungfuls of air, Yangyang kisses you tenderly before removing himself to clean up the mess he made.

Following the clean-up, while putting on your clothes, Yangyang expresses how he should get going since it’s getting late.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you pipe up.

His mind races, debating on whether to leave or not, anxious to blur the lines of your relationship even further.

Sure, he’s your temporary boyfriend, thus staying over at your place shouldn’t mean anything. But this agreement is ending next week, and he’s questioning if you two can stay just friends after this, knowing that he’s going to want more. Yangyang has had a taste of the what if, and it’s now irrevocable.

He wants you all for himself. Selfishly, but deeply.

For the sake of keeping this a great thing for you, he shoves his thoughts aside. This is all about you and for your benefit, anyhow.

“Uh, sure, I can take the couch like I always—”

“Yangyang, you just put your fingers inside of me,” you snicker, snagging him by the hand to your bedroom. “C’mon.”

The rest of the night is relatively chaste with some kisses and touches here and there. Eventually, you fall asleep facing each other with your fingers interlocked, excited for the big day tomorrow.

DECEMBER 25th

Normally on Christmas, Yangyang and you spend it with your respective families, but coincidentally, both of your families, your parents being retired and all, ended up vacationing this year, leaving the two of you to spend it with each other.

After getting up around noon, Yangyang heads to his place to grab his gift. He takes longer than you expected because, as it turns out, he also went home to grab baking goods he bought beforehand since he wants to make butter cookies with you today.

The cookies end up fine, but the mess is another story. Besides the chaos on the counter, your faces and aprons are splotched with flour (you swear he started it, but he disagrees and stands his ground that you’re the perpetrator). With a damp cloth, Yangyang aids you to clean, but not forgetting to wipe your face and giving you pecks over your cheeks and nose.  

The baking and aftermath occupies most of the afternoon, so dinner comes in the form of fancy, romantic instant ramen for two. Afterwards, you two sit in your living room and start to exchange gifts.  

Yangyang hands his over to you first. From the size of the gift and the crumpled, oddly-shaped wrapping, you already can guess it’s a stuffed plushie of a cute animal to add to your never ending collection. You hug it tightly with a large smile.

“It’s so cute, thank you!” you squeal, but you change your expression in an instant to a serious pout. “But you can’t steal this one like you did with my Ice Bear plushie.”

“Hey, I didn’t steal Ice Bear, I just forgot to give him back.” You roll your eyes sarcastically and he laughs. “I’ll bring him over tomorrow, if it makes you feel better.”  

Then, when it’s your turn, you head into your bedroom and come out with a large, white shopping bag. His eyebrows raise, unsure of what could warrant a gift this size.

“For being my holiday boyfriend,” you grin, placing the bag in front of his feet.  

Despite the hugest smile on your face, his heart sinks at the label for a second, but he blinks and wills himself to look inside the bag.

His eyes shoot open, so much that you’re scared you might have to stuff them back into his sockets.

Yangyang slips the box out of the bag with precision and stares at it speechlessly.

It’s the new Playstation.

He shifts his eyes toward you. You’re swaying on the couch, pleased by his reaction.  

“Your parents paid for most of it, so I can’t take all the credit.” Sticking a finger in the air, you add, “You just gotta promise to share custody with me though—”

A hand behind your head yanks you into a deep kiss. He’s not the only one left speechless on the couch. He places the top of his head against yours.

“You’re crazy, but I love—” He quickly catches himself from saying something he might regret. “—I love it so much, thank you. Now I feel bad for getting you only the stuffed animal...”

You shake your head softly, brushing your thumb against his cheekbone.

“Thank you for everything.” Your eyes twinkle. “I couldn’t have asked to spend the holidays with anyone else.”

Carefully, like a newborn baby, he safely situates the boxed Playstation to one side and nabs your lips with his again. The scene feels like repeat of last night as your bodies wrestle passionately on the couch.

“Not to be presumptuous,” he mutters between the kisses upon your neck. Your eyelids flutter at the sensation. “But I also grabbed condoms from my place when I stopped by.”

His words sends the two of you leaping towards your bedroom. Under the dim lighting, you fall into the bed as Yangyang pares your layers off, one by one. With each peel, his lips roam the revealing bare skin. You swear he has kissed you from your literal head to toe when you’re fully nude in front of him.

Your companion drags his shirt over his head, throws it off to your floor, and immediately targets in onto your nub with his mouth, finally satiating his craving from last night.

Fingers thread into his hair and over his flexed back. His tongue swirls and his teeth lightly tug on your perkiness, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. And he still isn’t even inside you yet.

After leaving love upon your other bosom, Yangyang fumbles with the condom, forgetting which way it should go on. Giggling, you perch yourself onto your elbows and assist him. Rolling it over his possession, you recline yourself back and spread your legs for him.

Pensively, he sticks his tongue out as he adjusts himself between your sex, easing himself into you, and upon the full impact, you meet his gaze head-on. His stare makes you feel vulnerable and exposed beyond the physical plane.  

But, unlike the others you have been with, you trust him with everything, like you always have, and be free with him. Losing your inhibitions and submitting to your whims, you entangle and become one with Yangyang.  

Behind his hazy vision, Yangyang’s simply thinking how beautiful you are, how he can’t imagine anyone else under his touch but you, how he is willing to give up anything to make you smile.

Well, in this case, he’s willing to give up anything to make you pleased.

However, it doesn’t seem like he needs to do much because you’re howling his name and clinging onto his skin and the sheets in a frenzy, like you’re about to die of exhaustion.

You perish a few times under him before he finally reaches his little death himself, convulsing into the sheath.

When air’s replenished into your bodies, you rest on his chest under your blanket. Glancing up at him, you move some of his tousled hair off his sleek forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Yangyang,” you whisper, snuggling him with a satisfied smile.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” he whispers back, giving you one last peck before you both drift into a deep slumber together.  

DECEMBER 26th

Last night took so much out of the both of you, you don’t get out of bed until about the middle of the afternoon. Yangyang doesn’t have anything planned for today since it’s Boxing Day, since the crowds might be crazy wherever you go, so it’s officially a chill, rest day for you both.

When you step out of the shower in fresh clothes, from behind the couch, you watch Yangyang gaming on his Switch.

The little voice in your head looms, prompting that now is the time to have The Talk, and speaks up on your behalf.

“Do we have to end things next week?” you croak.

You see Yangyang’s shoulders stiffen, then he pauses the game and turns around to face you. His gaze follows you as you step closer to the couch, opting to stand.  

“Uhm.” His Adam’s apple bobs and he shrugs. “It’s up to you, it’s your—”

“Yangyang, that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking what you think, how do you feel?”

His lips press together and he’s staring at the floor. You can tell the gears are moving, but you can’t read his expression clearly.

“I’m down for whatever you want to do,” he says slowly, eyes still averting yours.

That’s a I’m-your-best-friend answer, you deduce. Not a I-want-to-be-your-actual-boyfriend answer.  

He adds, stuttering, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind doing this a little longer if that’s what you want—”

Your face scrunches in annoyance. “Did you just sign up to be my short-term boyfriend so you can fill my empty heart?”

His eyebrows crease with confusion. “I mean, I never want to see you unhappy.”

“So it’s pity dating then?” you lash, raising your voice.

“No, I—” Yangyang bites down on his tongue, almost letting the one word slip out again. He blows out a lengthy sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “I care about you, so much. I’d do anything to make you happy.”

You’re defining his words as an affirmation of friendship and as an underlying rejection of your love.

You need to know for certain.

“Do you love me, Yangyang?” you blurt. “As more than a friend?”

This is it, Yangyang thinks. This is your chance to let her know how you feel.

But the distress written on your face makes him wonder if he should even go through with it, and it’s intensifying with every passing moment that he’s not speaking.  

If only he knew your distress was deepening because you took his hesitance as absolute rejection.  

Your heart is breaking because of him, and he technically wasn’t even yours to begin with.

You smack your lips together and gulp a few times, trying to make the huge knot in your throat disappear.

“You know what, maybe let’s just forget this arrangement and leave it all behind and forget about the sex and—”

“You wanna stop this?” he utters quietly.

The word “this” hangs heavy in the air. This, carrying the weight of not only being the temporary agreement, but also your friendship.

“Yeah,” you whisper, tears beginning to blur your eyes. “I think I do.”

DECEMBER 28th

Two days have passed since you last saw Yangyang.

That day before he left, Yangyang, feeling guilty for how events unfolded, wanted to give back the Playstation, but you insisted for him to keep it. In spite of everything, it was a Christmas gift to him from you and his parents.

But both of you weren’t sure if the shared custody promise was going to be held up.  

In hopes that things would eventually get better and heal itself, Yangyang thought it’d be best to leave you alone for a while, like how he usually did.

And maybe he was right to do so, but this time is different.

Because he’s on the other end of the stick now; he’s the one who broke your heart.  

Under regular circumstances, whenever you needed space, he was always ready to be there by your side.

But Yangyang’s uncertain if you’re going to let him comfort you this time.  

And you’re uncertain if you even want him to.

DECEMBER 30th

Today, Yangyang finally makes the move to get in touch with you, texting you to call him, but you don’t, so he leaves a voicemail later in the evening.

“There’s a New Year’s party I’m going to tomorrow,” he starts off, then spews the specific details.

There’s a pause and you hear shuffling in the background. You assume he’s pacing around.

“I know you ended our agreement, but I wouldn’t mind fulfilling my end since New Year’s is the last day tomorrow. I’d be really glad if you came to the party with me, whether it be as my friend or my girlfriend.”

Another pause.

On the other end, Yangyang rubs his palm over his face, considering whether or not he should say it. If you picked up the phone call, he was going to do it anyway, but this just felt improper. He wants to say it when he knows you’re listening in real-time, so he ends off the message with:

“I miss you. So much.”

DECEMBER 31st

It’s 8:40PM. Before Yangyang buses out to the party, he’s back at your front door for one more shot. His fist taps at your door, cognizant that you wouldn’t be elsewhere since your other friends are out of town for the holidays. Despite that, you don’t come to the door. Nevertheless, he speaks to you through the wooden barrier.

“Hey, I know you want to be left alone, but I just wanted to see if you changed your mind about the party.”

Still no answer. He lets out a sigh and prays the following will incite a reaction from you.  

“About the question that you asked me that night...”

He closes his eyes and allows his mouth to carry him.

“I do. I do love you. As both my best friend and more. I’m sorry if I hurt you that night by not saying anything, but I love you so much and I think we should give us a shot.”

Still no answer. Yangyang continues.

“Look, I know it’s scary and crazy to date your best friend. I’m scared too, but you know what? I’m okay with being scared. I’ve watched you gone through those assholes over the last few years and maybe you’re scared I’ll end up like one of them, but unlike them, I don’t think you’re horrible or needy or emotional—you’re beautiful, intelligent, and strong for putting up with all those fuckers.”

He leans his forehead gently against the door.

“And even if we ever do break up, and this is a big if because I’ll always try my hardest with you to make it work, I’ll still be your friend. I promise. You won’t lose me ‘cause I need you in my life. I gotta keep my end up for the custody of the Playstation, right?”

A smile breaks over his face from his joke, but still. Radio silence.  

“Can you at least say something?” he begs.

After a few minutes, realizing he needs to probably give you more time to be left alone, he departs and heads to the party.

Originally, you actually were planning on attending the party to see Yangyang to make-up with him.

Unfortunately, out of all the days you had to take a late afternoon nap, it had to be today.

And you overslept. Big time. 

At 10:55PM, you scramble awake, realizing you’re absolutely late to the event. Since the party’s downtown, you know calling an Uber or Lyft there would be fast, but tonight’s the worst night for any share riding service and there aren’t any available drivers. Thus, you have to manage with busing there.

It’s 11:40PM when you finally reach downtown, but the bus can’t take you all the way to the core centre where the party is; hordes of people are out on the streets and traffic is dreadful. God, you’re going to be cutting it close to midnight, but you make a run for it.

You’re grateful the party is on the second floor of a small building because you slide in right through the entrance at 11:58PM. You rush to call Yangyang’s phone, hoping he’ll pick up as you try to find him in the scattered groups of people.

You begin to holler for him in hopes he can hear you, but the countdown is happening, drowning out your voice. Thirty seconds left until the clock strikes for the new year.

When his number finally goes to voicemail, you redial his number. Suddenly, a hand grasps you by the wrist.

Yangyang looks at you, dumbfounded.

“When did you get here?”  

The harmonious chanting around you floods your surroundings.

“Ten, nine, eight...”

Getting closer to him, you practically scream into Yangyang’s face, trusting he’ll hear what you’re about to say.

“I know Christmas is over, but I want to change my wish.”

“Seven, six, five...”

“I know you might not feel the same and I know things might not work out.”

“Four, three, two...”

”But I wish to date you past New Year’s until whenever, however long we last.”

“One...”

“I love you, Yangyang—”

The one you love snatches you by the waist and your cheek, stealing your lips at the last millisecond before midnight.

“Happy New Year!”

A wave of noisemakers, clappers, and hollering erupt around the room. After it dies down a bit, Yangyang shocks you with a scolding.

“Why didn’t you say anything when I came over?!”

Confusion rushes over you. You realize he probably came by when you were sleeping. 

“You came over?!”

“Yeah, I confessed my love for you.”

“Wait,” you blink blankly, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Your love?”

“Yeah,” he nods, giving you his cheesy, adorable smile.  “I love you.”

“As more than a friend?” you clarify.

“Babe,” Yangyang’s thumb caresses your cheek. “I don’t think I could ever go back to wanting less with you.”

Your lips tremble with relief as your gaze melts in his.

“And, anyway, who else am I going to share the Playstation with?”

“Well, I mean, you do have Hendery, Xiaojun, Winwin...” you start to count his infinite list of friends on your fingers.  

“Yeah, but I need you so I can constantly beat your cute little butt at games.”

“You do not constantly beat my cute little butt at games, I’ll have you know that I beat you at—”  

Yangyang shuts you up with another kiss, the one of many for the rest of the night.

JANUARY 2nd

It’s your second morning at Yangyang’s place. You’ve only done it a few times now, but you realize that waking up in his arms is one of the greatest feelings in the world, second only to his kisses.  

In his bed, spooning you from behind, he grumbles into the nape of your neck, “Morning, girlfriend.”  

Half-awake, you mumble back, “Morning, boyfriend,” and sink deeper into the curve of his body.

Content, you finally broke your string of cursed holiday break-ups for good.  

And all it took was to be with the one who was in front of you all this time.

[nat-20s]

fill of @jonmartinweek day 6 prompt- flirting AND jealousy, though much heavier on the jealousy than the flirting. Set in a classic “season 5 jmart time travel bac to season 1″ au

~*~

“Mr. Blackwood-Sims, if I didn’t know any better, I would assume you’re trying to proposition me.”

“Mr. Sims-Blackwood, I would never. For one, neither of us are inclined towards those sorts of activities, for second, we’re both married men. What would my husband say?”

“I believe your husband would say he never specified exactly what you were propositioning, and he would be more than amenable to kissing, preferably sometime in the next few seconds.”

“Mmm, suppose I’ll have to find him and take him up on that, then. If that’s really how he feels.”

“Trust me, it most certainly is.”

Christ, would those two shut up already? Granted, it’s late enough that they probably think they’re alone in the archives, but, still. This is, technically, a work place, and Jon would’ve preferred not to have accidentally gotten an eyeful as he made his way past the open door in the breakroom. Now, the image of (supposedly) a future version of himself sitting on the couch, with (supposedly) a future version of Martin straddling his legs, using one hand to cup his face, and the other to run his hands through that Jon’s longer hair, was seared into his mind, and he hated it. Look, contrary to what people who don’t know him very well seemed to believe, he’s hardly a prude. He’s more than fine with descriptions of physical intimacy, as well as public displays of affection. If he’s being honest with himself, deep down, he doesn’t even care all that much about professionalism, especially considering it is after hours.

But of course, he’s not being honest with himself, because then he’d have to admit that it bothers him that it’s them. He doesn’t know what to call the acrid burning in the pit of his stomach, the too tight ache in his chest, that’s present whenever the fun house mirror versions of himself and Martin are besotted with each other, but he knows it’s there. It doesn’t help that he’s the only one that seems to be bothered by it, the only one that frowns at the flash of wedding rings or the orbit those two always seem to occupy around each other.

Or, no, he’s not the only one. Occasionally, while witnessing the two of them being...the Two of Them, he can’t help glancing over to Martin. Lo and behold, Martin also doesn’t look thrilled about all of this, usually skewing more towards confusion or, oddly enough, resignation. At least, that’s what Jon thinks he sees there, it’s one of the few times where he can’t fully get a read on Martin.

Still, as much as Martin might share in being somewhat perturbed, as anyone who meets their “future selves” should be, Martin doesn’t seem nearly as upset as Jon is. That brings him back to his current predicament of feeling that level of upset, but not being able to determine the root cause of it.

It is not that he’s jealous. It’s not! He does not feel a pang of envy at seeing someone who looks extremely similar to himself loving openly, and being openly loved in return. He doesn’t find his thoughts drifting to the imagined feeling of lips pressed to his temple or arms around his waist or fingers running through his hair. He certainly hasn’t looked down at his left hand and been disappointed by the fact that its bare. He doesn’t even want those things, as he’s been telling himself for a number of many lonely years. One of these days he might even believe it.

Fine. Fine. Maybe, but only maybe, there’s a part of him that’s jealous. Maybe there’s even a part of him that despairs, because try as he might he can’t connect point A to point B, can’t see the steps he would have to take to be like that other version of himself, and he knows his Martin (well, not his Martin, but..) will never look at him like that, will never see him in that light. And, damn it all, it hurts, so if they could kindly stop ru-

Oh. Wait. He can’t hear them outside his office door anymore. Huh, perhaps they-

“Knock knock.”

Startled out of his...contemplation, Jon looks up to find himself looking back. Sims is leaning against the door-frame, with mussed hair, swollen lips, and pupils blown wide. Jon loathes him and wishes to be him in equal measure. In a move he usually would’ve thought more characteristic of Tim, Sims doesn’t wait for a response, instead sitting himself across from Jon and saying, “Figured you’d still be here.”

Trying not to sound too much like he’s speaking through gritted teeth, Jon asks, “Did you now?”

Sims gives a lackadaisical shrug. “With any luck, you’re not going to become me. I not sure you can become me, at this point, diverging paths and all that. However, we do share the first 28 years of our lives, and I certainly didn’t believe in the concept of a work life balance, so why would you?”

“Is there something you wanted?”

“Yes, actually. I want you to ask out Martin, your moping is getting insufferable, and considering how much of our misery has been entirely outside of our control, you shouldn’t put up with what is in your power to fix.”

Jon blinks. Jon processes. Jon stammers. “I-what?! I am not, you can’t just-. Martin doesn’t even like me, and if you really were the same person as me, you know I’m not all that keen on him either.”

“Uh-huh. Is that why you can’t stop thinking about his hands?”

“I do no-”

Sims puts a hand up in surrender, though the smirk doesn’t entirely drop. “Sorry, sorry, I know that’s rather unhelpful. What I mean is, you’re already loved, right now, as you are. No, that love is not coming from Martin, but it could be,t because he doesn’t dislike you.  He doesn’t know you, because you have done everything in your power to make sure he doesn’t. You also don’t know him, even though you’re interested in him, because you’ve been trying not to be. It’s stupid. Get to know each other. It’ll probably work out.”

“I...is that how you did it? Because this seems like an objectively terrible idea.”

Sims snorts. “God, no. It took a coma before I was able to untangle my own feelings. The whole point is that you won’t have to take the same looping, painful path that I did.”

Jon wants to reject it outright, almost does, and yet. “Fine.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, really. Why?’

“Nothing, just. We’re usually a more stubborn on these sorts of things. I was expecting more of a fight.”

“Mm. Normally, I would be, but I’ve been forced to watch two rather obvious proof of concepts waltzing around in front of me, and agreeing will hopefully get you the hell out of my office.”

Sims studies him for a moment, then a surprised smile spreads on his face. “All right then.”

Jon makes a dismissive hand wave, and Sims obliges, and he spends the rest of the night trying not to think about what he’s agreed to.

~*~

The next day, about half an hour before the end of the work day, Jon calls Martin into his office. From his tight shoulders and carefully blank expression, it’s clear Martin very much does not want to be there. Great. This is going to go so well.

Jon gestures for him to sit, Martin does, and he dives in. “As we both now know, I don’t have the ability to fire you. In all reality, even though I am, on paper, your boss, I truly don’t have any power or authority over you.”

Martin leans back in his seat, letting a heavy pause fall between them before saying a stilted, “Okay?”

“So, I want you to know that I am about to ask you a question, and you have complete freedom and choice over your response, without fear of any negative consequences. Alright?”

“Um. Sure.”

Jon takes a breath, slowly lets it out, and bites the bullet. “Would you like to get dinner sometime?”

Martin stares. Then he squints. Then he studies. “Oh. Jon, you...we’re not them, you know that, right?”

“I’m aware.”

“So..why?”

Jon lets out a sigh, and tries to gather his thoughts in a way that makes sense to either of them. “Well, though I myself have some trouble with the concept, they’re not..entirely removed from who we are, and there’s enough foundation there that I have reason to believe we might...get on? Maybe we don’t, maybe we end up being friends, maybe we end up like them. That’s already enough to pique my own curiosity, but, alternate future versions of us aside, I mostly would just like to get to know more about you, and I’m hoping you might like to get to know me better as well.”

Martin’s shoulders relax, and he chews on his bottom lip for a moment before replying, “Okay. Yeah, why not?”

“Oh. Oh! Great! Does this Saturday work for you?”

“Works perfectly. Let’s give a shot.”

The first date is..fine. A Bit of a mess, but fine. The second date, however, is the best Jon’s ever been on. It’s so wonderful, in fact, that he doesn’t even mind when he catches Blackwood passing a fiver to Sims the day he can’t stop smiling at work.

[timextoxhajima]

hi dana.. if it’s possible can i request some angsty wangsty based on niki la la lost you with eric🥺 and ughh i really love your writing like crazyyyyy

♥ title: la la lost you in april [also part of @sunlightwoo ‘s 12 Months I Loved You collaboration project]

♥ member: tbz eric

♥ genre: f2l, ex! eric x fem! reader, model! eric [SFW!]

♥ warnings: swearing, some mentions of sex [like, once i think]

♥ wc: 3.4k

♥ a/n: sis when i first heard the song I absolutely loved how you used 'angsty wangsty' so I hope this one does it for you the way you imagined it <3 [fyi i wrote it in like, a camcorder recording audio format which is something i’m trying out so please hmu on whether it’s difficult to read/understand!]

[REC: APRIL 2, 2019 - 6:39PM] SOLO LOG #1

Are you seeing this? This is the most beautiful sunset I’ve seen. I gotta get a shot of this-

Hey! Hey! I could help you take a picture with the sunset if you want to!

Oh! Would- Would you? That’d be great!

Of course! 

...

Here. Is it alright?

Yeah, yeah, it’s cool! Thank you so much!

Are you recording something? Is it a- Are you vlogging? Are you a vlogger?

Yeah, no... I’m actually on a solo trip for a bit.

Oh, where are you from?

Just the next state. 

Ah! You’re taking a break off... life then? I assume? Sorry if that came out weird.

No! No no! It’s alright! Yeah, I just needed a short break from... y’know, school and everything. My semester ended pretty early on so I took the chance to come out here and... see some new sights, meet some new people.

I get that. Well, for a start, what’s your name?

Oh, I’m y/n. Nice to meet you! And you?

I’m Eric. 

[REC: APRIL 4, 2019 - 10:34PM] SOLO LOG #2

It is the 4th of April, 2019. I know, I know, I’m meant to do a daily vlog for all the 50 days I’m here but... it’s been... wow. Um... so I met Eric, the first day I touched down. The beach is just, about a 10 minute walk down and the sunsets are absolutely gorgeous. But uh... call me a fool and say that I’m living in the clouds but- what are the chances?

He’s funny, he’s such a great person to be around with y’know? Never a moment of like, awkwardness or stress and my God, look at me talking about a boy like that, though I met him 2 days ago. 

...

Um, he’s a freelance model. For those freelance shoots by UNIQLO or Target or something and he complains about the pay sometimes, but he looks good infront of a camera, so he’s... actually the one who won at life, really.

I’m not seeing him soon because he’s got a shoot out of town and he’ll be back next week. But I did get his number and he’s been texting me since. 

...

Wouldn’t it be funny if we end up together and then I have this whackass of a reel to show him? Jesus... I need to stop getting ahead of myself here. Freakin’ living in the clouds, aren’t I?

...

Anyway, I’m gonna go and see if I can get my weird projector shit up and working. See you.

[REC: APRIL 7, 2019 - 5:14AM] SOLO LOG #3

It is... 5am... uh, April 7th- and I was just binging FRIENDS through the night, waiting for the sunrise before I get some shut eye and then... Eric just asked me out. Oh my God! Um, he’s coming back this Thursday and I’ll go see him at the airport before we go get dinner.

It was really funny ‘cause he had to wake up early for a shoot today and so his day has just begun but mine’s coming to an end and I just- I’m rambling so much, it’s kinda- it’s kinda sad, isn’t it?

I think I’m too happy to sleep right now so I’m just gonna text him some more before the sun rises- oh! He replied!

...

Anyway, I’m gonna go and finish up this last episode before sleeping. Hopeful I can sleep. Bye!

[REC: APRIL 11, 2019 - 4:28PM] SOLO LOG #4

I am on my way out right now to go meet Eric at the airport, and I’m... it’d be an understatement to say that I’m excited. I know I’ve only known him for like, 2 days before he left but... I miss him. Is that possible? Missing someone despite knowing them for 2 days?

Anyway, I gotta go. Don’t wanna be late to see him.

[REC: APRIL 13, 2019 - 10:23AM] SOLO LOG #5

Oh! Is that what you had-

Yeah! It’s the same camera!

What are you vlogging for, actually? Like-

Nothing, really. It’s just for my own usage-

Wait, you didn’t like set that up last night while we-

Oh, God, no! Who do you think I am?

I don’t know, I mean, we’ve known each other for... is it two weeks-

Just under two weeks-

Jeez-

I know, I know, oh my God.

...

I don’t regret it though. Yeah, like- I don’t really go down to the beach that often in the first place and it just- it just so happened that you were there that day and I saw you struggling with this old thing-

I was not struggling!

Yeah you were!

I wasn’t-

I’m kidding! Gosh, you’re so cute.

...

Are you gonna have the camera recording while this carries on?

I forgot it was on-

One day we’re gonna accidentally make a sex tape-

Eric!

[REC: APRIL 17, 2019 - 1:15AM] SOLO LOG #6

-ould you pass me the hot water?

Mm? What?

The kettle over on the counter. Careful, it’s hot. Yeah, thanks.

Do you need help with-

It’s just instant noodles, sweet. Doubt I need a diploma for this. You’re recording again?

Yeah, does it bother you?

No, no, ‘course not. Though that means I can’t really do whatever I want to now.

What does that mea-

...

I can... still taste that bit of milk tea you had just now-

Could you tell it’s zero sugar?

I don’t think that matters, it’s still sweet and not great for your health to have that so much.

Aw, and yet you’re the one who suggested noodles at this timing, yeah?

You were hungry too!

...

Here, it’s done. Help me get the bowls? 

Did you even wash these?

Yeah, I did. If you don’t trust me, you can run them under the water for a bit.

Mhm. Here.

If it’s not enough, we can call for Macs.

Y’know, I’ve never had Macs past midnight back at home.

What? Really? Well, when you get back in May, would you try?

Yeah, why not? Maybe I’ll do that when I’m back in school. 

...

What date is it today?

April... hold on, um, 17. Careful, that’s hot.

...

When are you leaving again?

May 22. 

Are you planning on coming back anytime soon after?

I don’t know. I have school to worry about and the only other time I can come back’s probably during winter break in November.

...

I won’t be around in November.

Mm? Why not?

I’m moving.

To where?

I’m not sure yet, but I need to move depending on whether I get it and where the shoot’s at.

Shoot? It’s a big project, huh?

Yeah, it’s- it’s a pretty big deal.

...

I’ll- Let me just go and...

[REC: APRIL 20, 2019 - 7:49PM] SOLO LOG #7

-idn’t have to!

No, c’mon! It’s such a great time to get this on camera! Come on, tell us what just happened!

Well, I just scored a huge model contract with Calvin Klein - in Manhattan.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I’m so fucking proud of you, oh my God! Can you believe it-

No, fuck off, I can’t either! 

Oh! Calvin Klein!

...

I swear, you’re an angel sent to me-

Fuck off!

I’m serious! it’s so timely- I just can’t- I’m just so happy to have met you.

...

Well, you heard it first here, ladies and gentlemen. Eric Sohn is a new model for Calvin Klein - Manhattan.

[REC: APRIL 21, 2019 - 12:40PM] SOLO LOG #8

It is 12.40pm... April 21st, 2019. I’m finally back in my apartment after crashing at Eric’s for the last... 10 days? I think it was 10 days. My clothes were running out and I didn’t want to hike up his water bills so I just came back and- y’know did my own laundry.

...

Well, it’s- it’s been an absolute dream. The last thing I expected to... have, or meet? Here, is Eric. Um, but I know I’m probably going to regret this. Especially when May 22 comes. Uh... this is... it’s real bad. I mean, we’re great, y’know? But... it’s bad, because I know it’ll hurt. Like a bitch. When my time here is up, and I gotta go back to my reality, and Eric’s gotta stick to his. 

We haven’t really talked about it. May. I don’t think he wants to, and I don’t think I want to either. 50 days is too short. Either that, or I shouldn’t have come here in the first place. I shouldn’t have gone to the beach that day, in that hour. 

...

I just wish we had more time. I wish 24 hours were... maybe about 100 seconds more per minute. Does that make sense? 160 seconds per minute. Then again, I don’t think that’d solve my problem. I’ll still be on a ticking... time bomb. 

...

I know I shouldn’t say this. I know I can’t. I know I can’t afford to. But... I... I love him. I love Eric. With every... bit of me. It’s so... disgustingly cliché, but I feel so... comfortable with him. There’s really nothing we’d fight about, and even if we disagreed on something, we’d play it off like a debate, then forget about it the next day.

...

I love him. I do. And I’m going to regret this later. Without a doubt.

...

[REC: APRIL 27, 2019 - 2:02AM] SOLO LOG #9

-ou can see the stars?

I don’t know, that’s why I’m trying, sweet.

...

Can you see them?

Yeah, maybe if I just turn this ISO- Oh! I can kinda see the North Star-

Oh! Yeah, you can! It’s really feint though.

Right.

It’s okay, we can just lay it down here-

On the grass? Will your camera be fine?

Yeah, yeah, or else you can just put in on top of my bag- here.

...

Here, can you see me? Am I in frame?

Yeah, you’re in frame.

Okay, great. Now get over here!

...

I can taste the smoothie you had just now.

Too sweet?

A little.

...

Oh my God! Put me down! Oh- not there! It’s ticklish- AHHHHH!

...

y/n, I have something to tell you.

Mm? What is it?

...

Hello? Earth to Eric?

I... I love you. So much... and I can’t bear to see you go in May. 

Oh, Eric...

No, I- I don’t want you to stay- or even think about it, ‘cause, you have your priorities and I have mine y’know...

Mhm.

I just... I just wished we had more time. 

I do too. I really do.

...

Eric?

Hm?

I love you too.

...

...

...

[REC: MAY 1, 2019 - 4:23AM] SOLO LOG #10

1st May. 4...30? Am? I believe. Um, Eric’s sound asleep in his bed and I couldn’t sleep so I decided to do a log. 

...

I have... 3 weeks left. 4 weeks have gone past just like that, and I don’t know what to think about it. I came for a 50-day retreat. No stress, just myself and peace and quiet and tranquility and yet-

...

I- I don’t know if I can do this.

...

[REC: MAY 7, 2019 - 3:58PM] SOLO LOG #11

So, Eric’s in shoot right now and I’m on the way into the studio with some donuts and coffee to surprise him. I called his manager and asked if it was okay so- I’m pretty psyched to see his workspace. 

...

Hi, I’m y/n, I’m here to visit Eric?

Ah, okay! Hold on, let me just get you signed in with the pass-

Count me in!

You sure? This Saturday at the prep-party?

Yeah- Oh! 

Eric!

y/n! What are you doing here?

I wanted to surprise you. Am I... interrupting anything?

Oh, not at all!

You must be y/n! Eric’s told me so much about you!

Did he? And you are...?

I’m Chelsea! I’ve been attached to the same Calvin Klein contract he recently got, so you could say we’re colleagues!

Well, nice to meet you! Oh, right, these donuts and coffee are meant for you guys actually!

Oh! You’re too kind! Eric, you’re such a lucky man.

I know, she’s just... everything.

Anyway, thank you so much for these. I’ll bring them back down to the studio for the crew to share. But Eric’s pretty much done for the day actually, so you guys can leave if you want to!

Are you sure? Don’t you need help downstairs with the equipment?

No, no! It’s fine, there’re more than enough people downstairs. Go have your date, and maybe you can bring her along with you for the prep-party this weekend!

What’s the prep-party... preparing for?

Oh, you’re so adorable! It’s a prep-party for the end-of-May shoot we’re gonna have. it’s a collab with DAZED so it’s a pretty big project.

You never told me you were involved in a collab with DAZED.

I was gonna tell you today.

He has been pretty busy recently, maybe slipped his mind. Anyway, thank you so much for the donuts and I’ll hope to see you at the pier this Saturday, mm?

Yeah, sure. Thanks Chels.

No problem! It was so nice to meet you, y/n, I’ll see you Saturday!

Okay, bye!

Bye, Chelsea! It was nice to meet you!

Bye!

...

Sweet, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?

I wanted it to be a surprise. I thought you said you’d end pretty late?

The filming was cut short because the shots were better than expected so we ended early.

Oh, I wanted to film you while you were at work.

You have that on?

Yeah- why?

No, just wondering. 

Are you uncomfortable?

No, no, it’s just... I really didn’t expect you to come to the studio. 

...

[REC: MAY 11, 2019 - 11:12PM] SOLO LOG #12

It’s 11:12pm, 11th May, 2019. 11 days to departure.

...

I... saw... Chelsea and Eric... um, out by the garage- 

...

Well, I guess... it looked like they were just... having a really good talk. Or something. 

...

I left. I couldn’t watch it. So, I left without telling Eric. I did tell his boss that I wasn’t feeling well and I had to leave first. 

...

I guess this is the part where I regret it, isn’t it? Um... I don’t know... how... I’m gonna explain this to him when I see him again. Which is supposed to be- um- the rest of the night. I was supposed to go back to his place with him and I’ll stay for the weekend before I come back to pack my things, so-

...

y/n, are you home?

...

shit.

y/n, I know you’re home. I heard you talking. Open the door, I need to talk to you.

...

[REC: MAY 12, 2019 - 2:00AM] SOLO LOG #13

...

I look like shit, don’t I? God, my eyes hurt like a bitch. 

...

I don’t think I need to say what just happened for you to guess what just happened, right? This... says it all. 

...

Fuck. 

...

I shouldn’t have come here. How did- How did my retreat turn out- turn out like this? 

...

This is- This is too much. Too much in too short... of a time. 

...

I don’t think... I don’t think I can do it. Not anymore. 

...

[REC: MAY 19, 2019 - 9:59AM] SOLO LOG #14

It’s May 19th, 2019, almost 10am. I just came back from a morning walk by the beach just to... reminisce a little before I leave on Wednesday. 

...

I... haven’t seen Eric since the prep-party. I blocked him and I told him not to come over, though I think he has, like, a few times. I thought I heard someone come up to my door, but he never knocked. 

...

So, this is how it ends, huh? A 50-day romance cut short like that. Into about, 40? 

...

It’s crazy to think that I had... the experience of a whole relationship in 40 days. I definitely did not sign up for that when I booked this 50-day retreat. 

...

It was fun while it lasted, though. It was. I don’t think I’d find anybody else like Eric, and I guess it just sucks that it had to end like that. Things happen, right? That aren’t... in our control. 

...

...

...

[REC: MAY 21, 2019 - 8:07PM] SOLO LOG #15

May 21st. About 8pm. I leave in about 15 hours. 

...

All my stuff’s packed. Definitely more things to bring home than I brought here. Half of these things were bought by Eric and given to me. I’m... actually not sure if I should bring them back. 

...

I don’t- I just don’t think I’d have the heart to throw them away.

...

Nor look at them when I’m home. 

...

Should I even bring this camera home? Maybe I should wipe your memory before I bring you home, hmm?

...

It feels like a dream, doesn’t it? Everything that’s happened. It feels like a fever dream. Maybe when I’m finally home, I’d wake up and it’d be the day I come here.

...

Maybe.

...

[REC: MAY 22, 2019 - 10:03AM] SOLO LOG #16

-ny more luggage?

Nope.

Alright then, I think you’re all set. You still have about an hour’s time before the gates are open so you can get a cup of coffee or something, yeah?

Okay, thank you!

Have a nice flight ma’am.

Thanks.

...

Good evening ma’am, can I check your boarding pass?

Yeah, sure.

...

Okay, you’re good to go. Have a safe flight.

Thank you!

...

[REC: MAY 22, 2019 - 11:34AM] SOLO LOG #17

It is about 11.30am and I’m on the flight, and here’s the view outside. Sky’s pretty clear and this thing says that the weather’s great so, it should be a smooth flight without turbulence.

...

This is it. This is really it. 

...

...

...

Um-

Hi, ma’am, I’m gonna need you to keep your camcorder.

Oh! Yeah, sure, sure, sorry!

[REC: APRIL 2, 2020 - 12:48AM] ERIC LOG #1

Wow, this is... weird. How did you do this last year?

...

Um, hi. y/n. If you’re watching this then I’ve somehow managed to get this synced into your camera by some weird... bluetooth, iCloud shit that Felix helped me figure out. 

...

It’s been a year. And... I just thought you should... see this, or hear me out, at least. I know we didn’t end on the best terms... and I’m sorry. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have yelled at you for being unreasonable for something that was... suspicious. I should’ve understood. 

...

I should’ve been there. To see you off. And I’m sorry I didn’t. I... was scared, that I wouldn’t be able to let you go if I went to send you off. I was a coward. I still am. 

...

But I do want you to know that... those 50 days were the best days of my life. Albeit it ended horribly, but nothing could... nothing- nothing will ever replace what happened last April. 

...

I said I love you and... I still do. Every day I think about you and your smile and your voice and- and I cry to sleep... worrying that I’d forget how you sound like, or how you laugh and how... how you smell like. My bed smelt like you even after you left. 

...

I just- I love you. And I miss you. And I’d do anything to go back to what we had. I’d do anything to get- to get you back. 

...

I’m sorry.

...

the clip comes to an automatic stop. the white triangle slapped onto the screen, begging you to play it again. you look up from the screen, watching the famous calvin klein ad that hasn’t stopped playing in the last month. 

he hasn’t changed one bit. not his hair, not his smile, not his voice. 

it’s a bittersweet pot of memory stashed in the back of your head when the memories flood back. looking back down at the camera, you count back the days - it was synced just last night. 

the pile of tissues by your thighs are carelessly huddled into the bin next to your feet, mentally berating yourself for going through the memory instead of formatting it. 

you stand, fingers shutting the screen back onto its body with a soft click. the tv blacks out when you press the red button on its remote. 

you’re halfway into your kitchen when there’s a knock at your door, and you immediately gasp, blinking rapidly.

“oh, it’s my fucking projector!”

rushing to the door, you don’t hesitate to get the door open. 

and yet, like the heavens were providing you with all the light to stop you from doubting yourself, your lungs empty themselves like vacuums. 

your heart stops.

your breathing stops.

“eric... what are you doing here?”

[devilslinks]

# 𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗔 !

— 𝗖𝗟𝗨𝗕 𝗙𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 | 𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗔, 𝗧𝗢𝗣 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥.

wc; ( 3.2k )

synopsis; your best friend, raihan and you find yourselves eager to get intoxicated in one another's company. what better place than a night-club, dim lights, the overwhelmin' musk of the various alcoholic beverages; it's every guy pairs wet dream. that is until raihan gets shit-faced and excuses himself to the restroom while he pukes up his spiked guts. only to return to watch his sister take you balls deep, down her throat.

a/n: no brain, only nessa and her magical throat 🤝

warnings. MINORS DNI, NSFW CONTENT, family!au, raihan and nessa are siblings, club sex, intoxication, dirty talk, the name princess, deep throating, oral (m receiving), throat bulge, throat fucking, cum eating, flirty!nessa, jealous!raihan, exhibitionism, voyeurism.

euphoria.

that was the only word that came mind when raihan and you got involved in recreational activities like you did. galar was a go big or go home type of region, and the two of you stayed true to that motto. the itchy, messily thrown together suits that matched all the way down to the type of socks you had on— the overexcessive amounts of booze, and the loud music which just barely drowned out the fits of laughter and discussion littered throughout the packed club. as soon as the doors opened, flooding your senses with nothing but the sickly sweet, aroma of sex and other intoxicating chemicals; that's how you knew the had night begun.

the two of you had been indulging, before you arrived on the scene— time seemed to blur together with head-spinning speeds or come to a full halt at the worst of moments. you don't even know how long you'd been locking eyes with the transparent shapes and manufactured blurbs dancing across the wall a good, twenty, maybe thirty feet adjacent to your seat at the drink counter. the weight of something too heavy for your alcohol infused mind to register until the bar hostess was practically brewing with irritation at your non-compliance with her attempts to have you regain control of your dazed state; sat lazily in-between your pointer finger and thumb, respectively.

hell you don't even remember waddling over to the bar with the company you had brought with you. but you didn't mind, the painfully challenging to recall memories mattered not when there was already another drink swirling around the rim of your shot-glass. raihan's shifty frame wiggling in and out of your peripherals as you tug the half-empty cup to the skin of your lips, craning your head back to knock down whatever liquid remained at the bottom. the delicious burn of toxins coated the lining of your throat, trails of steamy fluid leaving their mark as the mystery liquor made it way down your esophagus. whatever it was, it packed a punch and wasted no time forcing your lips to curve into a bitter sneer— eyebrows shadowing your face in a sour demeanor, as you used the hem of your suit sleeve to whisk away any spilt mixture that tarnished your cherry red lips.

you hardly have the chance to open your mouth for a second time to address the swaying body, huddled closer the counter than it is to your own. raihan is a total mess, loopsy, and feverishly hot skin to compliment— he's stained a harsh, sickly green against his natural melanin tone. doubling over in either pain or the sudden flow of too many drinks pooling in his system; whatever the emotion he was enduring was, he wasted not a second longer before hustling off into the large gathering of people. disappearing before his lips could slur the final word, missing from his dialect.

“hh..h fuck- my stomach is gonna explode, i'll catch you-” his gravely tone churning into the backdrop just as quickly as he initiated the conversation; the familiar hum of lyrics to a song you couldn't quite place your finger on replaced whatever words raihan had previously gargled out before dashing off towards the public restrooms.

your head feels like it weighs a metric ton this late into the night, threatening to tumble forward as if your neck had lost any and all of it's support. your eyelids pulling down roughly over your eyes like window shades before the sudden wave of loneliness hit you like a truck. fiddling with the collar of your dress-shirt was entertaining enough to fill the void that was the now empty stool, where your best friend once resided. but that quick fix subsided rather easily and the once overwhelming presence of boredom had returned to take a seat.

and then, so did she.

“shit, rai- back so soon? you alright?” your vision was foggy and adorned with blurry bits here and there— but it was still evident enough to make out that, whoever was indeed now in your friend's seat, was not the person you had chauffeured to the club with.

“damn, do i really look, that bad? it's me, y/n. the painfully better looking sibling. what did that idiot put in your drink?” the speech is followed by a laugh. it was a warm and inviting chuckle, one that seemed to relax every muscle in your liquor tense body the moment she parted her spit silken lips. you had been in her company earlier that evening, which made it a tad easier for your incoherent mindset to process it. but nevertheless it was hard not to distinguish who the women paying you a visit was at this point, even if you hadn't engaged with her previously; nessa was infamous for those enchanting looks. and in your dumbified state, those gorgeous navy locks tied together by aquamarine highlights were one of a kind and stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the room of normal presenting citizens. though your brain didn't want to pick-up any of your surroundings, you found it quite easy to fawn over her in that ebony dress and the way it hugged her curves in all the right places.

“fuck.. nes' when'd you get so.. so.” you couldn't even find the energy or hell, the words to cough up the remainder of the sentence, you were so taken aback by how stunning she was, even behind your bleary, drunk eyes. but nessa wasn't oblivious— you were sure she had picked up the hint you had layed out so bluntly, and the warm palm slowly inching up your clothed thigh secured that suspension for you.

“not even so much as a greeting? you didn't even buy me a drink first; asshole.”

her words are firm, yet so light hearted at the same time; but just enough to set your arousal over the edge. your headspace so vulnerable to teasing that you're certain she knew what she was doing to your conflicted mind and body. her sly fingers are enough to coax you to shuffle your bar-stool closer to her's— not a single word wriggled around your throat in response, instead the tangy after-tase of alcohol still heavy on your tongue distracted you and you were sure the whole bar could acknowledge your intoxicated musk.

her features held so many different emotions at once, as she pryed you for a reply— trying to tell you each one obscured behind that pretty face, way too quickly for you to decipher. her brows furrowed quizzically, one tilted slightly higher than the other as her half lidded doe-eyes stared up at you like prey at a final stand off with their predator; just humbly surrending their body to the circle of life.

“hah, you're one to.. talk, nes' just because 'm out of it- doesn't mean my numb skin can't feel your heavy hand toying with my waistband.” the both of you swiftly changed direction, heads leering down at nessa's free hand. you were infact correct, you observed as the woman swirled shapes into the expensive leather of your belt. pulling bits between her fingers now and then as she silently struggled with the metalic buckle. your groin swelled tightly, gripping your boxers closer to the fat bulge behind your suit pants; it would take an idiot not to take notice of the wrinkled fabric secured around your aching dick. her skin felt like a furnace, contrasting your slightly cooler temperature— but with her body pressing so desperately to yours, you were sure the warmth from her melted over onto your feverish flesh. the damp, sheen of anxious sweat made the fabric of your suit, dewy. sticking slightly against your hellish skin.

“mm, i guess i was wrong about the greeting part— hello there, you look happy to see me.” not a hint of shame obscured her voice, you're miserably watching nessa shift her weight as she now palms at the mound between your legs. you've seen countless renditions of this night loop in your head, but now that the scenario is a reality; it's agonizing to try to contain your primal urges, face to face. it's a chore not to profess all the vile things you wanna carry out with her, but she's already one step ahead. that glare is dangerous, it makes you feel like she's trying convey that the two of you are already in on something devious.

“let me take care of you.. y/n.”

“let me treat you, nessa.”

the both of you drawl out in what would be perfect unison if your mind wasn't foggy and running slower than usual. you had both finally voiced the elephant in the room, the one which was just positively dripping with thick tension up until this moment in time. you're still squirming under nessa's grip, she can feel you whine and pant everytime she gives your cock a light squeeze between her fingers and it's not long before the two of you are absent from the bar and clawing at one another's linen around the corner. closest to any vacant area within eye-shot. well, as vacant as a small room seperated from the bustling club-life can get.

did you think the night would come to a close with your friend's sister skillfully sucking the soul out of your sloppy cock? not in a million years, but you'd be damned if you didn't want it to end on any other note. nessa fell to her knees before the two of you even made it out of view— planting herself in-between your thighs like she was a trained professional; no flaws in her technique as her tongue slid obediently from her mouth and latches onto the moist fabric masking her mouth's destination. nessa's fingers are long and slender, as they snake up your hips and meet at the belt tangled around your waist. you can feel your cock pumping against the seams of your pants, the uncomfortable sensation making it appear as though you'd rip through the cloth if your cock was imprisoned a second longer.

with the head-splitting atmosphere of the club playlist stretching and stuffing your ears to the brim with fast pitched edm that made your skull pound and jitter. as well as the added hum of the gym leader whispering inaudible nothings against your bulge as she at last pushed your pants down, and past your ankles; material getting caught on the fancy design of your shoes. you felt like you were on the brink of death, but the enticing appeal of hooking up with your best friend's relative kept your iron-will alive long enough to rough it out and pass the irritation that came with being black-out drunk.

your storm of worries fizzled just as quickly as they sprung up, maybe it was the alcohol but you swear this girl had the hands of the divine; you were washed away into infatuation once more. nessa's teeth hike up your boxers until they meet the waistline, pulling down on the hem with a familiar aggressiveness as she relishes in the way your big dick pops to life and looms over her lustful features; all chubby 'n decorated with veins fer' her viewing pleasure.

“shit.. i'm gonna have so much fun with your cock. you wanna make your stupid slut already? my mouth is just asking for it.” the first piece is low and almost voiced as if it was meant for her ears only— but the second half is most definitely directed at you; as she tilts her head to plant a few delicate lovebites along the base of your shaft. fingers looping gracefully around your hilt as she admires the girth you carry.

“fuck..” you hiss, cock twitching violently as you pleaded with sinful eyes. she had barely started her reign over your dick before guttural groans and mewls slid past your lips. the sensation of her tiny tastebuds as they trailed over the little glob of pre-cum that drooled from your cockhead was insatiable. the sudden action sent your hips forward almost automatically, like they instinctively acted on impulse; it felt so right. merely a few inches breached past her lips but there was enough speed and prowess in your thrust to drag a surprise gag from the mouth attached to your dick.

impatience was on the horizon, the buzz from copious amounts of alcohol had knocked down a few pegs. you were now fully aware of the figure positioned at your feet like she was praying for a god, and soon you'd make her chant like she was being fucked by one as well. broad fingers clamped down, squishing both sides of her jaw while simultaneously easing your length deeper, and deeper down her gullet like your dick was her last meal on earth. you throw your head back before letting it fall forward against the wall, watching those desperate dark iris' pool with puddles of lust that seem to be neverending.

“come'on princess, you know how badly you want this-- you gonna let me ruin this pretty throat?” you thumb over her warm cheeks, eyes glossy and threatening to ruin the simple makeup she applied before she arrived. the uncomfortable stretch of her esophagus molding as your cock fills the empty gaps in her throat with every inch you have; is one that isn't unfamiliar to her. dragging your pulsating veins along the dip in her mouth, her tongue greedily laps up any and all of the skin yet to be consumed by her.

“jesus.. fuck, oh fuck. take it, nes'. shit.” your cock fully slips into her, heavy and swollen as it spears her right down the middle; eyes rolling back into her skull as it's just too fucking big. bigger than anything she's previously had inside of her, anyway. your core bleeds with spots of warmth as you take the time to bask in the way every individual wall in her mouth feels as it constricts you almost painfully. sucking you in before she slides you back out of her throat once more; repeating the tedious cylce that has the two of you in a heated frenzy.

despite all the sudden and erratic pain, nessa bobs her head in sync, coaxing you to go as deep as humanly possible. rocking your hips as they snap against her face with every good fuck you give her— watching yourself grow rapidly from the outside of her neck, the moist skin now holding a curved bump near the middle. nessa takes the initiative. removing a hand from one of your thighs, she uses four fingers to lightly push and stroke the bulge; almost as if she was jerking you off while you ravaged her inards.

she knew exactly what she was doing, and it had you riled the fuck up.

you picked up the pace, delirious from the amount of stimulation your precious cock was receiving. with your erection fully encased by her face and your dick bouncing off the gummy walls of her gullet, you could tell her throat was already forming bruises with a throbbing soreness to compliment, time come the morning. your rough hands dig behind the back of her head, hands feeling lost amongst her ocean of hair— beautiful locks just perfect for pulling. you yank her face forward, lowering yours as well to not only established authority but to get your point across to the cockdrunk slut mindlessly slobbering all over your messy shaft.

“mfph-- please, cum.. i want- all!” you can just barely string together what sounds like whines for more— i guess she can sense just how close the knot in your stomach is to bursting because she grips the back of your thighs and tugs them forward with whatever coherent muscle strength she has remaining. just in time for the tension in your core to coil tighter and tighter, the lowerhalf of your body trembling with all the signs of an incoming orgasm.

“does my dumb little girl wanna be fucked, that, bad? hah, fuck nes' what would your brother think?” you mock so cruelly, totally disregarding the fact that there is a slim possibility, raihan is searching for the lost pair. and it just so happens that nessa's poor little brother had been observing for a little over half the engagement. fist wrapped around his pathetic cock, suit collar pulled between his fangs, ocean blue eyes fixated on you; your hip strength, the way you rolled and plunged balls deep into his sibling. his body felt so empty, only riding his high off the two of yours', praying he'd finish before you caught him lurking like a sleaze. it was so unfair, why did nessa get to taste your sultry cock before he did?

you can feel the bass reverberate in nessa's throat as her lips nip at your hilt, impatiently trying to babble out a response adequate enough to your liking. her mind is flying, no correct sense of direction as it attempts to form a reply, but all that breaks past the barrier is a few pitiful mewls. her nose is burried in your pubes and she's lost all feeling in her throat, only motivating her to show off the lump on her neck even more. you watch as your length disappears into the depths of her mouth for the hundredth time that night, hands pushing down the lacy strap of her dress in a last ditch effort to find something other than her hair to latch onto for support. her scalp is on fire and she can only accept the stinging sensation as the roughness of your thrusts increase in magnitude.

the club is filled to the brim with lewd moans and needy pants; those of which included raihan's. every inch of her esophagus is being used— you happily ram your cock down her throat a few more times, your balls were quivering wildly. contracting and spasming, boiling with a fat wad of potent seed all ready to venture inside of her. nessa squeals, feeling a thick bulge travel up the length of your cock, up to the head and straight on her tongue; some spurts flowing down her neck while the rest collected in her mouth. painting her insides a translucent white that would surely stain.

just for good measure, nessa deep throats your empty dick with a few simple strokes; a white, sticky ring forming around the base of your shaft after she detached from your dick. a lewd pop, followed by a line of stringy saliva connected her lips to your bottomed out cock before she ruined the trail by letting her tongue lull from behind her teeth. letting you get a nice overhead view of her empty mouth, watching as the last bits of your load traveled down her throat and out of sight for good.

“god.. such a g'girl. you sucked on my cock so nicely, princess. wasn't that a way to end the night?” a blissed out smile creeps over your face, marveling in the aftermath you caused. you gave the right side of her face a few taps from your cock— dried tears and sloppy makeup tainting her cheeks. cum dripping from the corners of her mouth, as a cocktail of her own spit and your semen coats the back of her throat. it was all one big look of;

euphoria.

[weaverlings]

music like white noise

A/N: hello i still Care Them very much

-

Hornet reached for the mug on the table, to soothe the tickle in her throat before it was too late. Before-

She coughed.

Once. Again.

Then she was wheezing, her breath torn and itself tearing her already-tender throat. Driven by the foul compulsion that such a tickle could become, she caught herself on the coffee table and snatched up the mug instead, drowning it all in gulps of tea.

This time, she kept the mug in her grip as she lowered herself back onto the extra cushions and pillows stacked behind her on the couch. She adjusted the blanket with her free claws, fought back the urge to sigh, and took a slower drink.

Lace leaned out of the kitchen, relying on the doorframe to achieve a dangerous angle. “Did you need more tea, sweet?”

“Mm.” Hornet tilted the mug and considered the remaining liquid. “If you could.”

“Of course.”

Lace twirled upright and spun to join Hornet in the living room. Hornet offered up the mug, and Lace leaned down to kiss Hornet’s forehead.

Lace frowned. She pressed a hand where she had kissed. “My, that’s quite a fever.”

“You say this like it’s some achievement.”

“Oh, yes. Not everyone could have such a fever, nor be so lovely even when laid low.”

Hornet snorted, which became a cough. She threw one arm out; Lace passed the tea back into Hornet’s claws. Hornet drained it. She’d averted the worst this time, at least.

“Oh, dear. Sorry, darling.” Lace kissed her again, the same as before, and reclaimed the mug.

“Give me but a moment.”

“Not your fault,” Hornet said to Lace’s back, and settled into her nest again. Unthinkingly, she closed her eyes, giving in however briefly to the not-quite-ache behind them: the sensation like rotted webbing, throbbing slowly.

She should have been in bed, but that would have had Lace back and forth all day at her own insistence, and Hornet’s restlessness would have driven her forth for her own tea at some point. Once, her self-reliance was an endless wellspring, painfully and necessarily so. Resisting this habit could still be its own battle.

So they had reached a compromise: this nest, the pillows and cushions and blankets. Lace had selected them and fluffed them up. Lace had brought Hornet food, and stayed with her in between these tasks.

Lace returned with the mug now, along with a plate and a damp cloth draped over one arm. She looked Hornet over – her dulled chitin, her sharp limbs burrowed or shrouded in fabric, absent their usual sense of constant, pre-spring tension. Hornet’s eyes opened; she watched as Lace set down the tea and the plate and took the cloth in both hands and leaned over her again. Those eyes were tired. Attentive, but tired. Hornet was tired, and it was bound to show through sometimes.

“Here, darling,” Lace said, plainly, tenderly. She draped the cloth between Hornet’s horns, where it might shift, but wouldn’t fall, even if she moved.

“Thank you.�� Hornet did move, tugging the plate closer. Toast, topped with a careful amount of spicy pickled waterbug. In truth, she had little appetite, but she needed whatever food she could manage. And it had been thoughtfully prepared, with just enough of the soft spread to keep the toast from being unpalatable. She wouldn’t waste this.

She tucked up her legs as she ate. Lace sat down beside her and picked up a waiting book. Hornet set the plate back on the table and lay back. Lace said nothing, only resting a hand lightly on Hornet’s leg, over the blanket.

Hornet had no input to offer, and Lace’s theatrics were, if anything, born from an understanding of when not to speak. There was no weight in their silence, nothing wanting, nothing to fill.

Sleep would be best. Hornet closed her eyes.

But everything, everything grated – her breath down her throat, the fever under her shell, her head’s wavering between pressure and pain. Indeed, none of it was pain, precisely. She could manage pain, push through if needed. But this wasn’t pain, just sickness. Normal sickness. She didn’t need to push through, and in fact doing so would be detrimental to her recovery.

Sleep would be best. She had eaten, now she should sleep. She should sleep.

As if thinking about it ever helped. She grunted.

“Go ahead and turn on the radio, love,” Lace suggested.

Hornet rolled onto her side. “It won’t bother you?”

“Not at all.”

The device in the center of the coffee table was modern and graceful, all whorls in wood and shining metal. Lace reached forward to fiddle with the wires before pushing it closer to her wife and leaning back, satisfied.

Hornet twisted one bright knob. The next thing she did was lower the volume, and then she let the program sink in. An announcer’s soft voice, offering information about agricultural statistics. She flicked the dial.

A sporting match. This piqued her interest.

She lingered on it. Shots passed and caught, equipment wielded with precision and valor.

It reminded her of all the exercises she’d rather do herself.

Flick.

Two former nobles arguing about something, and ignoring a moderator who tried to bring reason.

Flick.

Instrumental music. Pleasant.

But it left her in the same restless daze that silence had.

Flick.

An audio drama. An angry former guard and a thief, something about a cursed mask.

Trials were performed for the entertainment of others, again rich people behaved poorly.

Though there was some comeuppance.

Hornet listened through to the inevitable betrayal at the end of the episode, in part because she wasn’t absorbing anything at all. She was subject to another coughing fit partway through, requiring more tea and a steadying backrub from her wife.

After that, she realized that this would require more focus than she had to appreciate, and that if she had that focus, she wouldn’t have enjoyed it much. It wasn’t to her taste.

Once again, her claws darted from under the blankets. Flick.

An opera. The singer’s voice was dimmed by the radio, but otherwise high and full in spite of the grainy speaker. Hornet listened long enough to determine that it was a comedy; the singer was dramatically lamenting a ribbon lost in a river as if it were a pet.

“You could do better,” Hornet observed.

Lace sang quietly, without looking up, “Just so, ma petite araignée, just so.”

Still, she left it on. It occupied enough of her attention to let the rest of her drift off. And it seemed that Lace was familiar with the piece, because here and there she sang along: sweetly finishing the lament of the ribbon, falling silent for the next section about a carriage ride, and joining in again for a song about cheesemaking.

Hornet thought it was about cheesemaking. She dozed, deeper and deeper, catching less frequent snatches of music. So perhaps the cheesemaking was a metaphor of some sort.

She couldn’t be sure.

-

Hornet sneezed, uncurled, and was halfway upright on one arm before Lace said, “Where do you think you’re going, darling?

Hornet looked over, and stared at her numbly. Her breath wheezed through her mouth. Finally, she said, “Wherever I please.”

And then she dropped back heavily onto the couch and pressed her face back into a pillow. The cloth rubbed into her shell. It should have been tepid, but it was refreshingly cool. She lifted her head enough to pluck at it, and found that it was a different color than before. Lace must have changed it while she slept. Hornet hadn’t stirred at all, so she supposed she’d needed the rest.

“How long?”

“Long enough for me to make soup.” Lace leaned forward and spun the lid off a thermos that had been waiting on the table. She passed it to Hornet. “About four hours.”

The soup went down almost easily. Her sore throat had been replaced by mere roughness, and the warmth and substance itself would have helped no matter what. She took a long drought, drawing in the salt and strength.

She set it back on the table with a determined plunk. “Much better. My thanks.”

“Good.” Lace sighed fondly. “It’s so boring when you’re not well enough to spar. No one else is half as fun.”

Hornet smiled, a wide twitch of her chelicerae. “Ah, and so you reveal your true purpose.”

Lace pressed a hand to her chest. “Wanting to spend time with my handsome wife, feeling her best?”

“Don’t frame it like that. You’ll make me feel guilty for teasing.”

“You always were soft-hearted,” Lace said, her lilt making it a compliment. She leaned in and stole a quick kiss between Hornet’s parted fangs.

“As you say. But enough,” Hornet croaked the declaration. She cleared her throat and coughed, but got her breath back alone. She took a drink of soup just because she wanted it. She sat up and shoved the pillows towards the back of the couch, and commanded, “Come here.”

“Very well.” Lace obliged, claiming the space Hornet indicated so that Hornet could lie in Lace’s lap. “Comfortable?”

“Finally.” Hornet slid her arm up to reach around Lace’s shoulder from the back. She pulled herself against Lace’s chest. “If you try to move me, you’ll see whether or not I’m truly able to spar.”

Lace hummed. “You are feeling better, aren’t you? Don’t worry. I’d not give up such a luxury as this.”

"Nor would I," Hornet agreed. She nestled into Lace's lap, and closed her eyes again.

Her entire life had become luxurious, it seemed. And there were no requirements to earn it; not suffering, duty, nor any performance. She could have them just by existing, which was well enough, if surreal.

But then there was this, too: here and now, the softness around her aching body, the food warm and ready, and – and, miraculously while yet the most natural thing in the world – her wife with her. None of it was lost, even while she was suffering. She didn’t have to earn them, but nor were they likely be taken away from her. This had been proven, time and again.

That, she supposed, was safety.

[imaginefan]

I Will Try

Jeremy Gilbert X Reader

Word Count: 1278

Requested: Anon

Request: You're a witch and you use too much magic and it takes a lot out of you, Jeremy takes care of you until you're better. You have feelings for him and he has feelings for you too and it ends up coming out. AND Can you write a cute one shot about Jeremy and reader? Not sure on a plot though. Thanx

You had been friends with Jeremy since you were little, however you knew about the supernatural for just as long, your parents had told you that it was something that you didn't tell anyone about. Your family had tried and succeeded in protecting the small town for a little while now but the moment that it became your responsibility everything went to crap. The Salvatore's were your biggest problem with them moving back into town it attracted the attention of a lot of girls that didn't know the danger that they were in, it was too much for just one person the handle and that was all you had because your parents decided that having an only child was the way to go.

It only took a little while for Elena to get involved which was something to be expected according to your parents and then there was Katherine, who appeared a little while after and then you were left on clean up after Caroline was turned into a vampire and Bonnie refused to speak to her "Alright what the hell is going on with you guys?" You asked as you walked into Elena's living room where she sat with Elena, Caroline and Stefan. "(Y/N) what are you doing here?" Elena asked and you looked at them before leaning against the door frame. "I'm here to ask you why you're all acting weird." You informed her. "Don't worry about it, you won't understand." Elena waved you off. "So this isn't about your former best friend turning into a vampire fledgeling?" You asked. "What!? How do you know about that?" Caroline asked. "I'm a witch, it's my job to know about it." You shrugged. "You're a witch?" Elena asked. "Mm." You hummed. "Honestly I wouldn't say I'm a very strong one but I am a witch." "You've been here the whole time?" Stefan asked. "I would hope so I'm supposed to keep this little town safe after all." You shrugged and he frowned. "But you're Jeremy's best friend right?" Caroline asked. "When he's not getting high." You nodded "look I just know that there's something going on between you guys and Bonnie." You changed the subject. "Bonnie doesn't want to talk to me because I'm a vampire." Caroline finally said and you nodded. "That sounds about right." You said softly. "Witches are connecting to all things living and vampires happen to be the opposite of that, you know it's probably hard for Bonnie to be coming to grips with her connection and your 'dismissal' of it, whether you chose this or not, give her some time and while you wait, show her that your the same person that you were before you changed." "You seem well adjusted," Stefan commented. "Well, that's because none of you have done anything to piss me off yet." You shrugged.

The next time you crossed paths it was when Jeremy found out that you were a witch, you had honestly expected that it was going to happen but the moment that Jeremy looks at you like you betrayed him you didn't know what you were going to do "why didn't you tell me?" He asked, "did you not trust me?" "This isn't about trust," You said as you leant against the doorframe of his room. "Then why didn't you tell me!?" He asked. "I didn't see you rushing to tell me everything about your sister and her boyfriend or your exes." You argued calmly. "Those aren't my secrets to tell." He gave you a glare and you nodded. "You think this secret is mine?" You asked. "It belongs to my family, it's not just mine. I was raised being told that it was a secret so I continued that way." "I..." "Jeremy you aren't the only one that has secrets, I wanted to tell you, you're my best friend." You shrugged. "But keeping you safe was far more important." With that, you left him to think about everything unsure of if you were ever going to hear from him again.

You groaned when you heard your mother calling you, you rolled over before calling out to answer her "Jeremy is here to see you!" She yelled. "About what?" You asked. "He said that he needs a witch's help!" She yelled back. "Is Bonnie not helpful enough?" You asked as you appeared at the top of the stair where you had a clear view of the doorway, it seemed that he was alone. "This isn't something that I wanted to talk to them about." He answered and you looked at him before gesturing for him to follow you. "What's the problem?" You asked as you closed your bedroom door. "You have to promise not to laugh at me." He said. "Have I ever laughed at you before?" You asked, "and given the world that we live in there's nothing that sounds stupid to me." "I've been seeing Anna and Vicki's ghosts." He said. "Recently?" You asked. "Yeah." He nodded. "As in after Bonnie brought you back?" You asked and again he nodded. "Well that makes sense, you probably still connected somehow." "Can you fix it?" He asked. "Well, it's not really where my magic excels but with a little bit of work I could probably do what you are asking." You confirmed and he sighed. "Please help me." He pleaded. "You know you don't have to beg, I'm going to help you no matter what, you're my friend after all." You shrugged, you knew what you needed to do, you needed to close the path that was left open in his mind. You grabbed everything that you needed and then set everything up, Jeremy watched and occasionally asked questions about some of the things that you were setting up, before long he was sitting in the centre of your circle, you were standing behind him, hands placed gently on either side of his head. "Are you ready?" You asked. "I don't know if this is going to hurt you in any way, I'm sorry if it does, you have to tell me if you need to stop there's nothing that says we can't do this in sections." "Okay, I'm ready." He nodded, that was the last conversation that you had before you passed out, it seemed that everything was going fine, Jeremy didn't seem to be in pain and the spell was easy enough but before you knew it you were waking up in your bed.

"What happened?" You asked. "You fainted after you finished the spell," Jeremy explained from his place on the bed. "But I finished it?" You asked. "Your mother said that you did," He nodded, moving to grab the flannel that you were now noticing was on your forehead. "Well let me check." You said trying to sit up but he stopped you. "No you have to rest, you shouldn't use your magic for a little while." He said  as he pushed you back down by your shoulders "You helped me, now let me help you." "Fine..." You muttered "only if you promise to hug me," you pushed your arms out to him,  he smiled before shuffling so that he could lay next to you before pulling you into his chest. "Why didn't you tell me this was going to happen?" He asked. "I didn't know that it was." You answered honestly. "I knew that trying that spell was going to take a lot because my magic is more geared towards healing and such but I didn't think that I was going to pass out." "Well don't do it again," Jeremy ordered. "I will do my best." You said softly.

Requests and general question!