#and his reactions to them singing with the thumbs up

[fleshbabybank]

Sam holds the set square jaw that was fashioned to his brother's head. Runs his thumb over the scruffy stubble, the lines by the corner of his mouth, and the low flush in his cheeks. The sun streamed in through a window, softening details that Sam had etched into his mind. Dean looks so young at the moment, so tender as his eyes are cast to the ground.

Sam wants to say Look At Me but values the silence and keeps his mouth shut. Instead, he freezes his thumb from its pattern and leaves it by the corner of his nose. Dean looks up at him for a brief moment. Sam returns a small smile.

The dust mites in the air. The humming of the AC unit, squirrels skittering up trees, and birds singing their midday song.

Dean exhales. His lungs would feel borderline asthmatic most of the time. Tight, in ribbons, stuck between each phrase spoken, laugh made, and bite taken. He'd been running on stolen air for so long, would contort his body into some strange shape at night or in the Impala to finally shove some air deep into his lungs, deep into his bronchioles—alveoli. Dean sometimes read anatomy books to feed his gorey brain, and Sam would be pleased.

Does Sam know how often Dean thinks about his bronchioles? About how Dean wants to place his hands over his ribcage, Breathe in, Breathe out for me Sammy. To press his ear against his brother's chest, his hands on the ribs, to push and heave and hear everything working in tandem? Does he, does Sam know? Regardless, Dean feels like he can finally breathe. Mingled with his brother's exhales touching his lips.

Sam knows not the particulars but the gist. Sam wishes Dean could see how much Sam would allow it. How he's allowed it for years and years. Drowsiness is starting to blur the edges of Sam's vision. Does Dean know that on Sam's nightly strolls, he imagines himself being followed? It should strike fear, them doing what they do, that would be a natural reaction. To be afraid of what lurks in the dark. Sam thinks it's Dean, even if it isn't, it takes a coat of paint that's the same hue as Dean. Even if it's nothing, Dean anyways.

The humming of the AC unit. Sam looks at Dean's eyes some more. Mary was said to have the same exact green eyes. Though genetic, gazing into Dean's eyes feels more like looking at an heirloom.

perhaps Sam should stand at the end of a dirty motel bed while Dean sits precariously on the edge, knees between Sam’s thighs in a paradigm of repentance, and let Sam hold his face in his hands. no speaking, just staring into each other’s eyes and breathing the same air and listening to the silence.

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

Russ Ballard - Live in Munich

[f1amour]

「 ✦ F1 GRID — LETS GET PHYSICAL

˖ ࣪ 𖥔 navigation. | requests — open | main masterlist (coming soon)

drivers included | max verstappen, charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lando norris, oscar piastri, daniel ricciardo, franco colapinto, lewis hamilton

description | drivers and their favorite kinks

content warnings | mature content ahead — 18+ only, minors do not interact

authors note | hope everyone enjoys reading this one! if you have any requests for drabbles or blurbs involving those i write for please send it in and i will try to get it out as soon as possible <3 *not spelled checked*

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— 𝐌𝐀𝐗 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍 ¹

҉ PRAISE KINK !

— whether he praised you or you praised him; max verstappen was an absolute whore for praising

— both in public and behind closed doors he would take the praises only from you. being a three time world champion as many reminded him of his accomplishments he’d down play it. but you? oh he loved when you’d sing his praises

— “you did so great out there, maxie. no one does it like you.” praising him in public after a great race would look like that. behind closed doors was another story; “right there, max. fuck you’re doing so well keep going.” “only you know my body, no one compares”

— on the other hand max loved praising you and he was an absolute menace for it when he’d have you bent over the bed fucking you with his hands gripping your hair; “come on, baby. squeezing me so tight you love being handled like this, hmm?” “you’re doing so well for me, baby.” “such a good girl for me.”

҉ QUICKIES !

— max loved taking his time with you but with his busy schedule especially on race weekends he couldn’t give you enough time. however, he always made the most of the 10-20 minutes you had together on any occasion.

— whether it be 10 minutes before he’s gotta go out for the national anthem or 15 minutes before he is due to attend the press conference he would grab you and take you in any room that had a lock. “fuck that’s it, you’re doing so good for me baby.” “gonna have you cum three times before i gotta be out there in ten minutes. you like that?”

— 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐙 ⁵⁵

҉ HAIR PULLING KINK !

— the man has beautiful hair…how can he not have a hair pulling kink?

— carlos loved pulling your hair whether it was while you rode his cock or he was taking you from behind; he loved having his hands in your hair

— but it was when you pull his hair that really gets him going both intimately but whenever you’d be watching a movie or out with friends your hand would go to the nape of his neck and travel up to his hair giving it a soft tug

— between your legs carlos is eating you out both sloppily and hungrily, tongue against your aching core his fingers now at your entrance giving you extra pleasure when they’re stretching you out, “fuck. just like that carlos,” you tangle your fingers in his hair giving it a rough tug when he rubs his thumb on your clit

— every thrust his fingers would give your cunt and tongue giving your folds so much attention you’d tug his hair closer to your pussy if that was possible; “fuck, baby, do that again. harder.” “god, hermosa, gonna make me cum in my pants if you keep pulling my hair like that.” “right there, keep doing that princesa. wanna suffocate in your pussy.”

҉ DIRTY TALK !

— his native language being spanish played a role in his love for dirty talking he loved the reaction he’d get out of you when you’d hear him speaking to you in spanish

— morning, noon, night; carlos fucked you any moment he had some free time which was rare but on those occasions he did he make sure to speak his dirty thoughts of you: and to you

— “fuck, my good girl, chokin’ on my cock” “that’s it, hermosa. let them all hear whose fucking your tight pussy…the only man who makes you cum.” “te ves tan perfecta para mí de rodillas llena de mí. mi bella princesa.”

— 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐂 ¹⁶

҉ ORAL !

— charles loved having you on your knees mouth stuffed with his cock. your lips showing his tip some extra love with a few kisses after finishing in your mouth and you’d take him once again pulling him in your mouth again for another round.

— what he loved the most though? spending hours in between your thighs giving you multiple orgasms until you are begging him to stop (very rare to want him to stop)

҉ ROUGH SEX !

— despite seemingly carrying a calm demeanor around friends & family behind closed doors charles loved being rough with you in bed. especially after yet another week where ferrari fucks up his race he feels the best place to let out his stress and anger is on you. which you gladly took.

— rough and sloppy kisses you share entering his hotel room to his rough hands pushing you onto the bed and fucking you with his fingers until you’re squirting all over him and the bedsheets.

— your face pressed down on the mattress while he takes you from behind arching your back and yanking on your hair pulling you close to his chest he’d give you another rough thrush while whispering the most vulgar sentences to come out of his mouth.

— 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒 ⁴

҉ COCKWARMING !

— sometimes being weeks apart from each other you wanted to feel as close as possible while catching up on what you’d miss. you’d get settled on his lap moaning at the feeling of him stretching you after being gone for so long. you’d get comfortable and you would both talk about what you had been up to the last few weeks

— streaming with max you’d make sure his camera was off before you climbed on his lap. he would be confused as to what you were doing but the moment you take his cock out of his briefs and sinking down on him he’d hold his moans in and grab your waist pulling you closer.

- turning his mic off he lets out a whine when you rock your hips against him, “fuck, baby, can’t do this right now i’m so close to winning.” you’d agree with him and tell him to finish the game you’ll just wait for him; still sitting on him with his cock deep inside you. safe to say he lost the game just to play again, enjoying the feeling of his cock resting inside you

҉ SHOWER SEX !

— lando loved it when he’d be showering and you’d join him halfway through giving him some extra attention that he desperately wanted. he loved the intimacy about it when you’d help rinse of the shampoo in his hair or how he’d glide the body gel all over your body

— you loved it when it was a post race win or podium and he’d drag you to the small bathroom in his drivers room and shove you against the shower wall giving your pussy some extra love while you pull on his hair before he would have his cock shoved deep in your aching cunt, getting some loud moans out of you which he’d cover up with a kiss

— 𝐋𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐎𝐍 ⁴⁴

҉ PHONE SEX !

— being a formula 1 driver was a demanding job which required lewis to travel almost all year long and you couldn’t always go along with him due to your job. you missed him all the time when he was gone but especially on the days when you were extra needy were the worst

— that’s why he’d stay on the phone with you all day despite his busy schedule. he’d have one airpod in while having to be in a meeting not listening to the less important subjects so he’d listen to you and what you were doing for the day

— but then on days where your vibrator wasn’t enough you’d call or facetime your boyfriend begging him to help you through your orgasm, it also helped that he had the most soothing voice that constantly brought you to tears when he’d have your face shoved on the mattress, ass pressed against him as he fucked you

— “oh…’m so close, lew” you’d whimper through the facetime call, your phone propped against your nightstand while you grind your aching cunt against a pillow. desperately needing more release your reach to rub your clit when lewis’ voice fills the phone, “i didn’t say you could do that, did i?” he questions, he was due to be in the media pen in 10 minutes but he wouldn’t let you take the easy way out to cum before he left

— “please, baby, need to cum please,” you beg lewis as your movements speed up. “don’t use your hand. keep fucking youself on my pillow, i’ll be home in a few days and take such good care of you. that’s it baby, be a good girl and cum for me.” his encouragement is more than enough to have you squeezing your breasts and nipples as your release spills all over the pillow

҉ MIRROR SEX !　

— you weren’t sure if it was you or lewis who decided adding a mirror to the ceiling of your bedroom was the best option for your sex life but either way you were two happy people

— you enjoyed watching lewis fucking you his eyes meeting your through the mirror; he loved having you bounce on his cock watching the way you threw your head back moans filling the room. he loved it so much he requested his drivers room to have a mirror on the ceiling as well. after many warnings not to they finally gave in and gave him what he (and you) wanted

— his hand around your throat with two fingers deep inside your pussy he’d whisper dirty thoughts into your ear, “you look so pretty for me like this. wanna see you cum for me, sweet girl. that’s it you’re squeezing my fingers so good,” you’d bite your lip trying to suppress your moans in the small room knowing anyone walking by could easily hear you

— 𝐎𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑 𝐏𝐈𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈 ⁸¹

҉ DRY HUMPING !　

— again, being a formula one driver was a demanding sport. a demanding sport that kept your sex life with oscar very low many, many, many times. so when you had the chance to feel a little bit closer to your boyfriend you took the chance.

— whether against the wall of his drivers room with your clothed pussy rubbing against his race suit or in bed on his lap before ha has to catch a flight to the next race; you were both absolutely infatuated with each other and dry humping

— drivers room; oscar would be leaned up against the wall while your hips grind against his thigh, “osc,” you whine as he moves your panties to the side rubbing your clit while you con the to fuck yourself on him, “shh, be a good girl for me and stay quiet. then after the race i’ll stuff you full of my cock all night.” his words have you biting down on his shoulder as you cum all over his thigh

҉ SQUIRTING !　

— he had discovered this one night while you both watched a movie, laying between his thighs your head pressed against his chest his hand trailed down to your shorts pulling them off with nothing else underneath he worked his fingers inside you. soon enough you had squirted all over his hand and bedsheets; a first for both of you

— that just started something inside oscar which was wanting to make you squirt any chance he got. you could be exhausted from work or a long flight but you’d let him have his way with you. at the end you’d be filling the room with sounds of pleasure as his fingers or cock fucked your tight cunt until he reached the exact spot that had you squirting all over him

— "so wet for me, and so fuckin' tight." "i can feel how close you are baby, gonna make a mess all over our sheets, hmm?" he praises you, his fingers curling deep inside you. his groans and your moans fill the room as you squirt all over his hand and sheets making a mess like he had said. pulling away from you he now plays between your thighs and smiles up at you, “time to clean this mess up.”

— 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐎 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 ⁴³

҉ DIRTY TALK !　

— you’ve seen franco in interviews he was a talker so it wasn’t a surprised he was a talker behind closed doors as well. he had a filthy mouth on him when it came to you and he never stopped praising you

— “eso es amor, apretándome tan bien. let me hear your pretty moans.” “cum all over my cock, amor. fuck, fuck—look so perfect for me.” “gonna let me fuck you against the door? gonna make sir everyone hears what a filthy whore you are.” you’d think by now you’d get tired of his constant yapping (sometimes you did) but when he fucked you? you loved hearing his voice the entire time

҉ ORAL !　

— the man was good with his tongue what more could you say? he was infatuated with having his tongue on your pussy for hours on end tasting how sweet you were. buried between your thighs as your hand stung on his hair, whines and moans escape your mouth begging him for more

— “franco, ‘m so close, right there,” you gasp feeling his tongue poking in your cunt as he devours you, “es todo princesa, déjalo ir por mí. mierda. sabes tan dulce.” you cum and he doesn’t let a drop escape his tongue as he licks you clean

— 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐎 ³ [retired]

҉ THIGH RIDING !　

— the man had a tattooed thigh…how could you not want to ride it? it first started on a night out with friends enjoying the sunset at the beach when daniel placed you on his lap your hand traced circles on the tattoos that littered his thigh; one thing led to another and you snuck off to the car and he let your imaginations come to life

— at a club filled with loud music and dark lights you’d take advantage of the moment and grind yourself on his thigh enjoying the feeling, at home while he works on sending out some emails you’d keep him company with your core pressing against his thigh, anyplace and anywhere you were a menace for his thighs

— he loved it too, so much he’d started adding some more tattoos to his collection on his thighs which made you even more excited to ride him only to wait until he was healed to do so. you could ride his other thigh but something about fucking yourself on his tattooed thigh felt so so much more enthralling

— “you look so pretty like this, ridin' my thigh...makin' yourself cum.” “make yourself cum on my thigh right now, good girl. feels good, doesn't it?” his encouraging words bringing you to your third orgasm of the night just form riding his thigh, “come on, honey, gonna give me one more then i’ll fuck you for however long you want”

҉ FILMING !

— daniel loved having videos or pictures of the activities you got up to in the bedroom with each other. he loved watching the videos while he was away from you weeks on end. however, he loved it more whenever you got the chance to film each other especially for fun not because he’ll be gone for a few weeks and needed someone to fill the void

— daniel comfortably laying down between your thighs lapping at you like there’s no tomorrow, “danny, feel so good…oh,” you whine trying to hold the camera that was pointed at him steadily but you were so close. “that’s it baby, cum all over me you taste so fucking sweet. could never get enough of this,” he says only getting a second to breathe before he’s diving back between your thighs to bring you to your second orgasm of the night

— you loved the risk of having an album on your phones that were filled of videos and pictures of the two of you or sometimes of just one of you. you’d created a small album curated for daniel filled of pictures of you in lingerie or fully nude; the videos were another story. filled with you fucking yourself with your fingers, vibrator, a pillow; you made sure daniel was fulfilled for the weeks he wouldn’t have you

— daniel made a small photo album for you as well more so filled of the two of you, he knew how much you loved rewatching the videos of you two fucking. you loved the way he propped the camera against the nightstand and had you riding his cock until you begged him to let you cum or the time he fucked you in his drivers room facing the mirror on his door his hands on your breasts squeezing them while you rode him back against his chest holding onto the camera shakily and almost dropping it when he’d thrust up into your cunt

[pucksandpower]

Use Your Words

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Lando Norris

Summary: in which your boyfriends show you that there’s no shame in using your safeword

Warnings: 18+ content and use of a safeword

Based on @uramakimochi’s request

Note: the fact that I literally manifested the Charlando podium while writing this? I wish team orders didn’t play such a big role during the race but I will take the results and not look a gift horse in the mouth 🫶

Charles and Lando are both rummaging through their suitcases, looking for neckties as you wait on the bed. After their double podium finish earlier today, the three of you decided to have a little private celebration back at the hotel.

“Found one!” Charles holds up a red silk tie with a mischievous grin.

Lando chuckles, pulling out a striped tie in shades of blue. “This’ll do the trick.”

You bite your lip in anticipation as they approach you with the neckties. Charles slips behind you, gently gathering your wrists and using the tie to secure them together. You shiver at his warm breath on your neck as he works.

“Too tight?” He whispers. You shake your head slightly, unable to hide your smile.

Lando kneels in front of you, looping his tie into a makeshift blindfold and carefully covering your eyes. “Can you see anything?”

“No,” you murmur, plunged into comforting darkness. Your senses sharpen, focused on the sounds of their movements and the occasional brush of fingers against your skin.

“Perfect,” Lando’s voice is low. You feel the bed shift as he rises. “We’re going to take such good care of you tonight, princess.”

A thrill runs through you. The three of you agreed on a safeword when you first started seeing each other, a sure fire way to get any driver’s attention and slow things down. But tonight you have zero intention of using it.

Charles’ lips find the sensitive spot just below your ear. “You looked so gorgeous standing below the podium, vibrating with pride. I could hardly keep my hands off you.”

You let out a shaky breath as his mouth blazes a trail down the side of your neck. “Ch-Charles ...”

“Shhh,” he soothes, nipping at your pulse point. “No need for words yet.”

Lando’s hands glide over your thighs, pushing them gently apart. You automatically part your lips in a soft gasp. Fingertips tease along your inner thighs, drawing maddeningly close before retreating.

“So responsive,” Lando marvels. You can’t see him but you know he’s grinning. “I haven’t even properly touched you yet and you’re already squirming.”

Your cheeks flush hot. You want to retort but all that comes out is a quiet whine as Lando’s fingers finally make contact. He chuckles darkly at your reaction.

Charles slips one hand beneath the loose hem of your top, palm skating over your ribs and up to cup your breast. You arch into his touch with a small moan. His thumb brushes over your nipple, adding delicious friction through the thin fabric of your bra.

“So beautiful,” he rumbles in approval. “The way your body sings for us ...”

His mouth finds yours, tongue instantly seeking entrance that you grant with a whimper. The kiss is deep and hungry, leaving you dizzy and panting when he finally releases your lips.

Lando’s long fingers have been steadily working between your thighs, stroking and teasing your increasingly slick folds. You buck your hips without meaning to, desperate for more substantial contact.

“Please,” you finally manage to beg. Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Patience, darling,” Lando tuts, though his own breathing is growing ragged. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder for better access, leaning in to lick a broad stripe right through your heated center.

You cry out sharply, tugging instinctively at the tie binding your wrists. The heat of Lando’s mouth and the soft lap of his tongue are glorious torment. Charles smothers your keening noises with another searing kiss.

Lando groans his appreciation against your tender flesh, lapping and sucking insistently. “You taste so fucking good,” he growls. “Been dreaming about this all day ...”

Arousal is throbbing through you like a second heartbeat. Charles’ lips abandon yours to trail down your throat, his other hand cupping your breast and rolling the nipple between his fingertips. Every nerve is exquisitely alive, buzzing beneath their skilled touches.

Lando’s tongue flicks over your throbbing clit and your back arches off the bed. Your loud mewl is half pleasure, half plea. He grants you no reprieve, mouth working enthusiastically to take you apart piece by piece. Charles captures your lips again, stealing the cries from your throat.

You’re quickly soaring higher, spiraling toward that glorious precipice. Their murmured praises and scorching caresses urge you ever onward. But just when you think you’re about to tumble over the edge, Lando’s mouth abandons you entirely.

You nearly sob at the loss, hips frantically chasing that delicious friction. Charles soothes you with gentler kisses, murmuring praise against your swollen lips. “So good for us, mon ange. You’re doing beautifully.”

You dimly feel the bed shift again, and then there’s a warm mouth trailing kisses up your inner thigh. Charles, blessing you with more delicious stimulation. But just when you think he’s going to grant you relief, Lando’s seeking lips find your other thigh.

“No, no please,” you beg between panting breaths. If they keep denying you for much longer, you’ll go mad. There’s a soft tsking noise and you feel Lando’s fingers combing through your hair. Charles continues lavishing attention on your shuddering flesh.

“Use your words,” Lando murmurs huskily. “What do you need, love?”

You swallow hard, mouth suddenly dry. “Please just … I need ...”

“Tell us, mon amour,” Charles prompts, lips brushing your hipbone.

There’s really only one way to circumvent this maddening tease. You suck in a breath, steadying yourself.

“Box,” you force out. “Box box box.”

All movement instantly stills. Your heart is thundering a rapid staccato, waiting with bated breath for them to respond to the agreed safeword. You bite your lip, instantly second guessing your decision.

Fingers stroke along your cheeks, Lando’s touch infinitely gentle. “Sweetheart,” his normally playful voice is low and soothing, all traces of teasing vanished. “Are you hurting? Do you need to stop?”

You shake your head minutely, abruptly blinking back unexpected tears of frustration behind the blindfold. “No no, I just … please can I just ...”

“Shh, it’s alright,” Lando hushes you. His lips lightly brush your forehead. “Take a deep breath, pretty girl.”

You obey, inhaling shakily through your nose. Charles presses a reassuring kiss to your cheek.

“Talk to us,” he urges softly. “Don’t be afraid to voice your needs.”

“I w-want ...” you stammer, toes curling. “I need you both so badly, please. No more teasing. I just want you to make me come.”

There’s a pause, and for a heart-stopping moment you fear you’ve ruined the mood entirely. But then Lando lets out a low groan of relief.

“Look at you using your words so prettily,” he praises. Charles chuckles softly beside you, nuzzling against your jaw. You feel the bed shift again as Lando moves into position.

“We would never deny you, love,” he murmurs. “Not when you ask so sweetly.”

His long fingers slide home, curling and plunging into your dripping heat. You cry out at the sudden stretch and glorious pressure. Charles lays claim to your mouth again, greedily swallowing your moans.

Lando’s palm fits perfectly against your bundle of nerves, grinding in time with the thrust of his fingers. The spark of pleasure races through you, building and spiraling rapidly higher. Distantly you hear your own broken whimpers bleeding into Charles’ mouth.

“That’s it, ma belle,” he growls, lips trailing over your cheeks and throat. “Let us hear how good we make you feel.”

Lando curls his fingers, nailing that sublime spot inside you over and over until you begin to shake apart. Your cries rise to a sobbing keen, back arched taut as a bowstring.

“Come for us, darling.” Lando’s command is heated, fingers sinking deep. “Let go.”

You shatter with a high wail, rapture cascading through you in scorching waves. Lando strokes you through it, coaxing every last spasm of bliss with his touch until you finally slump boneless against the mattress.

Strong arms envelop you, tucking you securely against dual heartbeats. Gentle fingers trace your features, brushing away the dampness beneath your blindfold. You’re surrounded with warmth and adoration, coddled by their praise.

“Belle fille,” Charles murmurs, lips finding your temple.

“So perfect,” Lando echoes, stroking back sweat-dampened strands of hair. “Our good girl ...”

You sigh in utter contentment, letting their cherished words soak into your very bones. No matter what heights you reach, they’ll always be there to catch you in their arms.

[amygdalagustd]

You can always borrow me

Summary: Jungkook is busy but you want his attention.

Pairing: jungkook × reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 637

series: Tattoos and kisses

“Jungkoooook,” you whined from the bed.

Your partner sat behind the desk in the corner of the room, one leg popped up against his chest, his eyes focused on whatever he was drawing. He seemed to be unfaced by your somewhat pathetic attempt at getting his attention.

“Jungkoooookieeeee….” you repeated, even more whiny this time.

No reaction again. He didn’t even flinch, didn't even seem to hear you. It was time for more drastic measures. You grabbed the first pillow your hand could find and threw it in his direction.

It hit his head with zero force, but made him look up at you. Two glossy eyes stared into your general direction as you could practically see his brain trying to pull itself away from whatever it was doing.

“Okay,” Jungkook stated, “I did not deserve that vile attack.”

You pouted at him.

“But I'm in grave need of attention!”

He turned his chair away from the desk and towards you, showing you his full frame. He looked soft, wearing baggy sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. Suddenly there was a smirk on his face.

You couldn't even react before the same pillow you had thrown slammed into your face at full force. Not even a second later your partner threw himself on top of you, stradling you with his thighs.

His hands quickly found their way to your sides, where he started mercilessly tickling you.

You trashed and squirmed and yelled, but he was simply no match for you.

“Jungkoo….jung…jungkook stoo…stop JUNGKOOK!” You managed to scream out. Throughout the chaos of it all the smirk on his lips never left his face.

“What?” He asked mockingly, “I thought you wanted attention?”

“I do, I do!” You yelled in between laughs. “But not like this!”

Suddenly he stopped, just as abrupt as he had started, and now his face was right there in front of yours and his hands were warm against your skin.

“Like what then?” He asked, staring into your eyes.

You gave yourself a second to stare back into the big doe eyes you had fallen in love with all this time ago. Then, very softly, you pushed him off you and climbed on top of him. He didn't resist, instead let you guide his body onto the mattress. 

“Like this,” you whispered, and you softly kissed him on the lips. 

You sunk down onto his chest and got comfortable cuddling up next to him. As he wrapped his arm around you, you absent-mindedly took his other hand into yours and played with his fingers.

“What were you doing anyway?” You asked.

“Drawing something for army,” he answered.

“Mhm.”

Your eyes went to his hand in yours, and the many tattoos on it. You rubbed over the purple heart with your thumb, and lifted his hand to your lips.

With the utmost care in the world you placed a kiss on each of his knuckles, one for each letter on them.

A. R. M. Y.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook chuckled.

“Thanking them for letting me borrow you.”

Jungkook snorted and pulled you closer to him. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, and then one on your lips. Your body automatically pulled itself closer to him as you felt his arms wrap around you tighter.

“You can always borrow me,” he said.

He leaned in to kiss you again, but stopped right before his lips touched yours. 

A little smirk on his lips and then he started singing.

“Every hour, every minute, every second, you know night after night, I'll be-”

“Yeah yeah,” you interrupted him, “seven days a week, I got it.”

You pulled him closer and kissed him quickly, not giving him the opportunity to respond, but you were sure he could feel the smile on your lips against his. 

[little-diable]

Hold me close - Prof!Carlisle Cullen (smut)

I know this isn't what you requested @emberfrostlovesloki – but I hope you still enjoy it! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Let's be honest, this is pure pwp, prof!Carlisle worries about the reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, prof x student, reader is legal ofc, age gap

Pairing: Prof!Carlisle x fem!student!reader (1.8k words)

The room was filled with students, a buzzing atmosphere that trapped them, forcing anticipation to flush through their systems. Every Thursday morning they found themselves in this room, eyes glued to the professor most of them fawned over, begging for a few seconds of his attention. 

Professor Cullen had joined the university a few semesters ago, instantly becoming the students favourite professor. He had something to him that drew the students to him, lured closer by the man with golden eyes and frame so tall, they wondered how it must feel to have him towering over them. And trapped in the middle of it all was (y/n), one of the few students the professor called by her first name.

She couldn’t remember how it had all started, longing glances, inside jokes, cold touches. Nothing inappropriate had ever happened between them, Carlisle Cullen wasn’t one to cross lines that could end his career and ruin her future. And yet there was something between them that was anything but professional, an ongoing back and forth neither of them wanted to put an end to. 

“(Y/n)?” His voice cut through the sounds the crowd of students produced as they left the class, already excited for next week. Their eyes met, drawn to one another like moths to flames, silently communicating. He watched her move closer, trembling feet struggling to support her frame, hand darting out to grasp the edge of the table he was leaning against. “Are you alright?”

Concern dripped from the professor’s voice, worried eyes wandering over her features, trying to stop his hand from reaching out to touch her. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, trying to find her voice, but the room began to close in on her, unable to speak up as her vision grew blurry, head pounding. 

“Come, let’s get you somewhere quieter.” This time he didn’t manage to stop himself from touching her, hand placed on the small of her back as he guided (y/n) out of the room. Neither of them spared the curious eyes of the other students any of their attention, while Carlisle found himself worrying about (y/n), her mind slowly grew clearer once again, hyperfocusing on his touch. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Just water, please.” A hum left the professor as (y/n) sank down on the comfortable couch placed in Professor Cullen’s office, the room she had been in numerous times before. He moved quickly, placing the glass of water down for her before he sat down next to (y/n), eyes not leaving her features once. “I think I simply forgot to drink enough, I’ll be fine.”

“Mhm, you need to take better care of yourself, love.” The word left his lips before his mind could pick up on the things his mouth was doing, hearing her heartbeat picking up its beat. Even though he’d never admit it out loud, Carlisle loved the way her body was reacting to the things he said, the things he did, wondering how it must feel to have her pressed against him, fully focusing on every little reaction. “I can’t have my best student passing out, can I?”

“Your best? I doubt that.” (Y/n) didn’t dare meet his eyes, breath stuck in her chest as his hand found her chin, forcing her to look at him. For a few seconds neither of them spoke, while her blood began to sing in her ears, his eyes flickered down to her lips, allowing him to focus on the thoughts he had tried to drown out ever since meeting her. She felt his thumb on her trembling lower lip, carefully stroking the soft skin as a gasp left her, unable to stop the sound from leaving her. 

Before either one of them could move, the sound of his alarm going off ripped them apart. Carlisle rose to his feet with a sigh, reaching for his phone to silence it once again. “I’ll have to leave now for my shift at the hospital. Do me a favour and text me tonight, just a small update on how you are feeling.” 

……

Ever since (y/n) had left Professor Cullen’s office, she had wondered if their moments together had truly played out like that or if her confused mind was playing a trick on her. Whatever it was, she couldn’t help but be grateful for it, clinging to the memories playing in her mind over and over again. 

She wondered how long she should wait to text him, but ever since 8pm had rolled around, she had been sitting on her bed, eyes focused on her phone. Again and again she tried to type out her message to her professor, wondering what and how she should update him. Her fingers trembled at the mere thought of her professor, mind filled with sinful images she found herself longing for whenever she got time to think. 

Before she could send her text the professor had taken it upon himself to reach out, a simple “How are you doing, (y/n)? Do you need something?”. Heat rose in her body at the sweet message, biting her lip to stop her smile from growing even wider. With her heart pounding in her chest she typed her reply, fuelled by her curiosity and excitement. 

“I am alright, still a bit shaky, but no longer close to passing out. How was your shift?” Her phone was tossed away from her the second she had sent the text, insides churning in excitement, silently praying to whoever was listening that he’d fuel a conversation. 

It didn’t take him long to get back, but not in the form of another text, forcing (y/n) to reach for her buzzing phone as he called her. A deep exhale of warm air left her before she picked up the call, murmuring a soft “Hello?”.

“I don’t like that you’re still feeling unwell, if it’s alright with you I’d like to check on you.” She was glad that the professor couldn’t see her, pupils growing wide as her lips formed another grin. 

“I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do, I’m okay, promise.” (Y/n) could imagine him staring down on her, shaking his head with a displeased sigh leaving him, not trusting the young woman. 

“Nonsense, text me your address, I’ll be there in a few.” 

……

If somebody would have told her back then that within the next hour she’d end up in his lap, arms wrapped around his cold neck, lips locked with his, she probably would have broken out in laughter, doubting that he’d ever give into their game. And yet, here she found herself, straddling the man’s lap, fingers tangled in his golden hair. 

Carlisle’s cold hands moved up and down her back, leaving sparks to shoot down her spine. She kept on trembling, though no longer because of her exhausted body, but because of the things the man made her feel. He kissed her as if he was in search of her soul, chaining her to him with a few simple touches that left her burning from inside out. 

“You can always tell me to stop, love.” She couldn’t help but swoon at the care dripping from his words, holding her close with warm eyes getting lost in hers. (Y/n) cupped his cold cheek, pressing another kiss against his lips before a quiet “Don’t ever stop, please” left her.  

For a few seconds he stared at her before he flipped her onto her back, pressed against her couch with her legs wrapped around his waist. Her gasps left him smirking in pride, lips kissing their way down her throat, allowing her shaking fingers to unbutton the black dress shirt he was wearing. Both were fueled by their desire, unable to ponder on the question whether what they were doing was right or wrong, needing to feel one another. 

“My pretty girl, such a pretty sight. I want to take my time with you, but I can’t promise that I’ll be gentle.” The words left her moaning, eyes threatening to roll back into her head as her teeth left marks on her lower lip.

“Don’t be gentle, mark me up, please. Fuck me, professor.” (Y/n) whimpered the words, coaxing a deep grown from the man as he rose from his position. Without breaking eye contact both got rid of their clothes, bare bodies searching for one another’s closeness. Their lips met once again as he sneaked a hand between their bodies, making moans claw through (y/n). His cold fingers felt all too good against her pulsing bundle, the perfect sensation to push her closer and closer to the edge, once again begging him to fuck her. 

Carlisle was rough with her, forcing his cock into her tightness without another warning, but she was aching for him, desperate for him, ready to give him whatever he wanted from her. The tall man didn’t hold back as he fucked her on her couch, forcing her further into the fabric with his eyes growing darker and darker.

“Jesus, you feel so good, fuck.” (Y/n) kept praising the man, eyes squeezed shut, desperate to focus on the feeling that felt so unfamiliar she wondered if she had ever been touched before. Carlisle chased her lips, hungrily kissing the moaning woman as he fucked her even faster, leaving marks that would turn into bruises the next few days. Marks she’d forever cherish, smiling at the memories she clung to. 

Curses left the two as she clenched around him, unable to stop herself from cumming with his name leaving her, nails scratching at his skin. It took him a few more moments to let go, holding onto her with his dark eyes taking in every inch of her body. The groan leaving Carlisle as he came made (y/n) shudder, studying him with awe laced in her gaze.

“Fuck, that was-” she struggled to find any words as he gave into a laugh rumbling through him, kissing (y/n) once again before he pulled out of her. 

“It was. We can’t go back now, I hope you know that.” (Y/n) pulled him down once again, mumbling a “As if I’d ever want to go back” against his lips. 

[satori-runa]

—Morning comes in silence

Summary: You spend the morning in bed with your husband at your side, watching over him as he rests peacefully for the first time in ages.

Tags: Romance, Hinted sexual content but no specific graphical explanations, established relationship, fluff

Words: 0,6k

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Gente rays of orange sunlight shimmered through the forst-covered windows in the early morning hours, followed by the graceful fresh snow that carried a familiar cold breeze through the land. Yet, none of that chill reached the comfort of the bedroom that you shared with your husband.

Only the soft, sun-kissed glow filtered in, casting a golden warmth over everything, draping the comfort of your home into a pure teint of liquid gold. It especially highlighted the fine features of the man lying beside you in the huge bed. The white silk sheets pooled around his large form, shared between the two of you. And you could swear, his body could be a canvas painted by the purity of the morning light and the feelings that carried over from the night before.

Capitano was truly a man of many things, status, wealth and power. He could command the word with a singe motion if he desired so and yet here he lay, stripped of the weight of his title, exposed and vunerable under the tender caress of your warm fingertips. Your thumb traced his sharp jawline, brushing over the dryness of his lips, then wound through the smooth raven locks that you had toyed with so many times before. The sensation was familiar, comforting, like a safe haven that you shared in a world full of coldness.

Your cold feet brushed against his leg beneath the sheets, a subconscious search for the warmth and connection that still lingered from the night before. His body twitched at the cool touch, a small reaction to the memory of the heat you’d shared in the dark, but he made no effort to pull away. Instead, he shifted slightly, allowing the space between you to close, his warmth enveloping you as naturally as the sunrise.

No words passed between you, nor were they needed. In the quiet of this sacred morning, your gazes spoke volumes. You remembered how the night began—the way his cold, sharp gloves were the first to fall. He had always hidden his hands, guarded them from the world, but last night, he let them be seen, exposed to your eyes alone. His skin, tinted with that strange, mysterious blue, revealed more than just his body. At first, he hesitated, insecurity flashing in his eyes, but those fears had melted away with the softness of your lips, pressing gentle promises into his skin. You had kissed away the doubts, each touch a vow that you’d never judge him for what he was, for how he looked. All you needed was him, the man beneath the surface.

And he had given that promise back to you, wordlessly. His lips had remained silent, but his hands spoke. They had traced your skin with a slowness that bordered on torment, fingers gliding over your legs, up your thighs, drawing out your impatience with teasing precision. The way he touched you, the way he worshipped you with his hands, was his answer—a declaration that you were everything to him.

Now, in the glow of dawn, those hands rested between the folds of the sheets, still close to you, as if even in sleep he couldn’t bear to be far from your warmth. His raven hair spilled over the pillow, shadows and light playing over his face, making him look softer, almost innocent in the early morning light. You smiled faintly, brushing a stray lock from his brow, recalling how those same locks had been tangled in your fingers the night before, how his breath had hitched against your neck when your cold hands had explored the softness of his skin.

There was a serenity in the room now, a sense of peace that wrapped around you both. The world outside didn’t matter. Status, power, wealth—they were distant, meaningless in this moment. All that existed was the warmth of his body beside yours, the sheets that clung to your limbs, and the silent affection you shared.

[dollwrites]

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, orgasm control, yandere!ace with a possessive streak, mentions of marking and tattoos and violence, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮�� ∣ day twenty-seven [ portgas d ace + being possessive ]

“I—“ it was hard to speak. not only was it hard to collect your thoughts and file them into a coherent sentence because it seemed like each, sharp snap of Ace’s hips pounded your brain to mush, but it was difficult to form the syllables with his fingers in your mouth. the first two digits on either hand, hooked into the fleshiest sections of your cheeks, stretching your mouth into an otherwise impossible shape. drool oozed from your pressurized couplet, leaving your chin sparkling, and your words came out slurred. “G—gonna cum!”

you hear him grunt from behind you. no doubt, it’s a reaction to the way your walls constrict against his cock. you always got so tight right before you came, like you were trying to swallow him up. usually, he would brace himself with his palms against your ass and push your face into the pillow, but not this time. “Not yet,” he rasped into your ear, “tell me whose it is.”

your eyelids flutter. your lips were sore from being stretched so wide. your thighs tremble every time his heavy balls smacked against you.

he was telling you no, not to cum, but he wasn’t taking any of the pleasure away, which made it extra difficult to comply.

“Whose is it?”

as if that question wasn’t already answered one thousand times over. everything about your formal self has been stripped. none of the crew referred to you by name, only by ‘Ace’s Girl’. your skin was inked permanently with his name for all to see, and even now— as he fucked you stupid, his had was draped askew on your head. you always smelled of him, and if you didn’t, well it wouldn’t be long before he marked you again. more often than not, he’d drag you on deck and fuck you in front of the rest of the crew until you were babbling and drooling and singing his name, just to remind them that you were his and only his.

all of those contingencies aside, even, you were fiercely loyal to Ace and even accepted your role. the way he possessed you, the way his face reddened up when he caught someone even looking in your direction, the way that he would kick the shit out of anyone that dared lay a hand on you. it turned you on. “Y—yours—“ you choked out, happily. you were certain that one syllable word would persuade him to let you chase your high into the sunset, but you feel his fingers slip from your mouth. calloused palms cradle your soft cheeks as he pulls your head further back, craning your neck until you were bent in an S shape. his hat slides from your head to hang against your back between your shoulder blades, the strings resting against your throat. and you let out a moan, looking up to the ceiling.

“Damn right!”

“Don’t look away,” Ace pants, giving your face a squeeze. “You know I hate it when you do that. Me. Focus on me, baby.”

you do as you’re told, your gaze hazy, but you try to focus on his figure looming over you. it would’ve been hard enough had you simply had to battle the way your body ragdolled underneath him, but your vision was blurry from your heavy lids trying to close.

“Attagirl,” Ace moans in approval, one thumb tracing your bottom lip as your jaw hangs slack. you would’ve been embarrassed at the amount of shiny drool that dribbled onto it if he hadn’t poked the digit into your mouth only moments later, “don’t let those pretty eyes close. Not even they cross. Not even if they wanna roll back in your head. Look at me,” Ace grunts and snorts like a beast, rutting into you rough and deep, “o-only at… me…”

“Ace, h—holy shit!” you cry out, “I need to cum, please! I can’t— can’t hold it anymore!”

Ace grins. it’s a crooked, weak smirk, but it paints his otherwise strained face, and sweat beads against his temples, sticking raven tendrils to his forehead. “Fuck, you feel good.” he barks. his own eyes start to droop, his eyeline flickering from your gaze, down to your lips, where you’ve started to nibble haplessly against his thumb, and then back up. he locked back on to your eyes, pouring every ounce of infatuation he had for you into his staring. “My girl, so tight and warm and all for me, right?” you nod, eyes crossed as you struggle to keep them open. but his were hypnotic. “No one else can ever feel this. No one else can ever have you. Who do you belong to?”

you were shaking with desire, teeth dug into the pad of his thumb as you finally reach your boiling point. “A—Ace!!”

Ace nods, and pulls you closer, dipping down to smear his lips over your swollen ones in a sloppy, heavy-breathed kiss that leaves you mewling and needy to taste more. “Then cum, baby, let the whole crew hear you scream my name this time.”

[yourmomsawh0r3]

i loveeeeddd ur Juno fic <3

imagine if glen’s popstar girlfriend gave him the pink fuzzy handcuffs right before she performed Juno and the crowd went CRAZYYY 😂

your wish is my command ✨

Fuzzy pink handcuffs

The lights dimmed as sirens blared from the loudspeakers, capturing the audience’s full attention. In the spotlight, Y/N stepped forward, her gaze focused right on Glenn in the crowd. With a seductive grin, she fanned herself, playing up the moment.

“Glenn Powell,” she purred into the mic, “you are under arrest…for being too hot.”

The crowd erupted, cheering wildly as they turned to watch Glenn’s reaction. He stood in the pit, blushing and laughing, completely captivated by her boldness.

Y/N continued, letting her eyes drift over him as she leaned closer to the microphone. “Guys,” she teased, looking out at her fans, “have you ever seen someone so sexy that they make your clothes just…fall off?”

As she spoke, her hands found the clasp of her breakaway skirt, and in one smooth motion, it fell to the floor, revealing a breathtaking, sparkling bodysuit that left everyone speechless. She tossed Glenn a wink, stepping to the edge of the stage with a mischievous smile, dangling a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs. “I can’t wait to handcuff you tonight,” she murmured into the mic, sending the crowd into a frenzy.

With a playful smirk, Y/N launched into “Juno,” the crowd singing along and matching her energy. At the line, “Have you ever tried this one?” she went into downward dog position glancing back at Glenn as she moved. The look on his face was priceless, his heart pounding as he tried to take it all in.

After the show ended, Glenn made his way backstage, anticipation thrumming through him. The moment he saw her, she pulled him into the tour bus, her eyes gleaming with the same playful spark from the stage. They shared a heated kiss, and before he knew it, they were in the shower together, steam filling the small space as water cascaded over them.

Glenn pressed her against the shower wall, whispering praises and teasing murmurs, his voice low and affectionate. “You were so beautiful up there,” he murmured, tracing kisses down her neck. “Such a good girl, driving me crazy.”

He inserted himself inside her making y/n moan

After picking up a good pace

“Still want me to make you juno?” he says. “Please, yes fill me up” y/n says

glenn spills his seed inside of her walls and thrust more inside of her making sure every last drop was inside of her.

Breathless and wrapped up in each other, Y/N and Glenn leaned against the shower wall, water streaming over them as they slowly caught their breath. With a gentle smile, Glenn brushed a damp strand of hair away from her face, his gaze soft and full of admiration. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, the warmth of the moment lingering as he held her close.

“You were incredible tonight,” he murmured, his thumb brushing gently along her cheek. “You always are.”

She looked up at him, a small, satisfied smile spreading across her face as she threaded her fingers through his hair. “It’s easy to be when I know you’re out there cheering me on.”

They shared a few more quiet kisses, savoring the peaceful aftermath. Eventually, they wrapped up in towels and dried off, laughter bubbling between them as they found themselves back in the cozy space of her tour bus. With takeout pizza boxes spread on the floor, they sat side by side, sharing slices, talking about every highlight of her performance, and sneaking kisses between bites.

As they settled together, the night quieted around them, and they both felt deeply grateful for each other and the memories they’d just created. Glenn wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close as they drifted into a peaceful, contented silence, simply enjoying being together.

[shirefantasies]

I loved both of your new updates, with the Hobbit characters and Fellowship reacting to you calling them pretty. How do you imagine the elves replying when you call them pretty? Such as Lindir, Arwen, Haldir, Elrond and Figwit?

Lindir and Figwit are one and the same, that’s why there's only one :) here’s how I think it would go:

The Elves’ Reaction to You Calling Them Pretty

Gets sappy: Arwen, Lindir, Legolas

Shock: Elrond, Haldir, Feren

No you: Galadriel, Thranduil

Slowly, widely grinning, Arwen’s gaze falls from yours slightly, only to slide back. “You flatter me,” she says, voice lowering to a near-whisper as she steps closer, “especially for one who knows my heart is in your hands.” Flustered is the only word you could use to describe the look that crosses Lindir’s face, especially as you reach over to tuck a strand of his long dark hair behind his ear. A smile creeps across it, oh yes, but what can he do besides respond that no word that he knows can begin his description, no song he could write, would do you justice half as proper as he should like. Legolas bursts into a big, bashful smile before you even finish your sentence, reaching to take your hand and hold it against his chest. At first he says nothing, his dark eyes simply swimming in yours before he speaks. "I know not what I did to deserve such a love as you have given me, but I hope I do it again and again."

Taken aback, Elrond nearly leans away from your touch before seemingly thinking better of it, pale skin of his cheek resuming contact with your palm and bringing a rush of warmth with it. "You see beauty in the strangest of places," he chuckles, "in all things and every face you look upon. If only all of Middle-Earth could see as you do." And with that, his lips are on yours. Haldir tilts his head in- confusion? before his eyes are searching the gaze upon them, finding nothing but sincerity swimming in the beautiful color of your eyes. A smile breaks across his face, small but deeply affectionate, as he shakes his golden head. "I know not what to say beyond thanking the Valar for the gift of your love." You almost burst into a laugh at the way Feren's big brown eyes widen, turning like saucers as if you'd shifted to some unheard tongue mid-sentence. "Yes, you," you reiterate, reaching up to caress his face, the gorgeous arch of his cheekbone, "do I not make it apparent enough all the beauty I see in you?" Flushing, Feren simply shakes his head and leans into your touch before thinking better of it, turning instead to take your hand and press a kiss to the back of it. "Not at all. I was simply thinking of all the ways I should be returning the favor."

Amusement plays upon Galadriel's lips, loving glow overtaking her at your compliment, tinging her cheeks and glittering in her fair blue eyes. “Would that you could see through my eyes, meleth nîn,” she chuckles, reaching up to trace a pale hand along your hair, down the rise of your cheekbone, and to gently brush your lips with her thumb. Each motion a silent affirmation that has your heart singing as you grant her the kiss she asks for. “Well, aren’t you charming?” Thranduil teases, but all you can see in his eyes is pure, brimming love. “These are not your words, love, but mine.” His smile is wide, welcoming as the arms that pull you against the king’s back, elegant lips pecking your neck, then your cheek. “Your sincerity is a gift to this world, though. You say what you think whether it is what I wish or not. I suppose we can say I got lucky this time, did I not? As I do every day I have you by my side.”

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🥰

[syrma-sensei]

→ Somewhere In Your Heart, Ch.2: A New Window

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Fem!reader.

Rating: Explicit.

Setting: Pre-canon; in the early 1980s.

word count: 2.6k.

Warnings/Tags: Abusive relationship, angst, self-care, Ben's potty mouth, dick talk (It's Ben, what do you expect?), implied non/dub-con, power imbalance, misogyny, implied prostitution...

Summary: Soldier Boy lives through the ennui of his peak, but everything is about to change when he has a shift in his heart.

When your manager told you you were to sing side by side with Soldier Boy, you didn't believe him. Despite the fact Jack has a strong proclivity to humour — depraved humour at that, you know he seldom jests about business. Jack has a strict code when it comes to you. His precious little asset. So, when he says you are to sing with America's greatest hero, then you are.

“S-Soldier Boy?” Your voice is but a squeaky hush. You still find it intimidating, albeit quite ironic to say the least.

In spite of your stupor, you curb a scoff and suffice to have a private laugh between you and yourself. You never thought the Soldier Boy would be easy.

Jack smirks, his foxy eyes glimmering, “I had a call with the Legend early this morning, he said Soldier Boy had made a specific request for a collaboration with you. He wants you to stand by his side for his next cover song.”

As you come off it, you realise it really shouldn't have been a surprise to you. The man literally eye-fucked you last night with his rather captivating green eyes. You could perceive the primal desire that seared within them when he spoke and flirted with you. You're used to this kind of reaction from men, of course. You weren't in the entertainment industry for that long, but you've always fancied yourself a quick learner; and Jack made sure you learn faster. The real surprise to you is that Soldier Boy is being subtle about it. You gotta hand it to him, you're rather impressed.

“You seem to have made quite the impression on Soldier Boy last night, sweetheart.” Jack remarks, and you smile slightly, “Thanks to me, of course, I think I taught you well…”

Your smile falters a bit, because you know he's not saying that out of the sheer notion of teasing you. No, of course not, he can't but give himself the credits, he made you after all. You can't deny the fact; he salvaged you from the cruelty of being in the streets years ago, and made you what you've become today. A promising diva with a magnificent ore.

“What should I ever be without you?” You humour him with a smile, as he's always taught you. Do not contradict a man, especially one with power.

“The pole-smoke you had been before I plucked you from the streets.” His smirk widens, and the sly gaze Jack is giving her doesn't settle well in her.

Jack stands up from his seat and saunters down to you. His thumb strokes your lower lip, the unctuous gentleness makes your stomach roil.

“Listen to me, my pretty slut,” He tugs a strand of hair out of your face behind your ear, the maliciousness in his voice is well-coated with perfected inveiglement. His thumb is back to your lower lip, “You will go to Vought, do your supposed rehearsals, and indulge every whim Soldier Boy wants from you… even if he wants to muffle his cuban cigars in your pretty tits” He yanks her jaws up to make you look at him in the eyes, ignoring your small whimper, “Because you and I are both aware that he isn't only after that pretty voice of yours. Don’t you dare fuck this up, understood?”

You swallow the large bile in the back of your throat. Jack smiles at the vehemence of your nod. “Y-Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He loosens his grip slightly. “Think of the offers you'll be lavished with after you sing next to Soldier Boy. You'll be one hell of a star, my star. Your pictures will be all over the country, and fuck, who knows, maybe you'd have a chance in L.A. too.”

Your mind floods with snaps of what your future might be. It wanders away, on a red carpet, where your heeled feet would treat with a swagger. Surrounded by camera flashes and ardent fans, just wanting you to look in their direction. And maybe, just maybe, Jack wouldn't be up on your ass anymore.

You shake your head back into the present. “What’s the song gonna be any way?” You ask Jack.

“Who fucking cares?” The latter shrugs, glancing at his wristwatch, “How about you find out yourself? Legend said Vought would send a private car to get you today.”

“So soon?” Your shoulders slump a bit.

“Is that hesitation I'm hearing?” He glares.

“N-No,” You gulp, “I’m just… it's happening a little too fast, don't you think?” Her lips curl in a dither smile.

Jack's frown deepens, “Aren’t you eager to make history?” He snickers, “Of course, a lowly whore like you isn't accustomed to the high steps of the ladder; you've always belonged at the bottom of it. What was I thinking.”

Tears start to burn in your eyes. You wonder why he's always so cruel to you? You always did what he wanted to please him. Before you started to perform at private parties and festivities, Jack used to drag you from an awful club to an even worse club, and exploited your voice and your other talents to fill up his pockets, under the excuse of enlarging and extending your audience; a good entertainer would perform for all of kind of people, he claimed. Promising that you'd make it up the ladder before you even knew it if you kept plugging. But now, and when you're at the threshold of achieving what he's always drilling into you, he is nothing but disparaging.

“No.” Your voice surprises you as it comes out with a defying tone.

“What’d you say?” Jack raises a brow.

“I said no, I don't belong to the bottom of the ladder.”

You expected the backhand slap, but you didn't expect it to make your mouth bleed.

“You’re my slut, my whore, I made you. Don't you dare concur yourself with me.” He seethes.

You grimace at the taste of iron as you swallow your blood silently, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Jack seems to rouse from his fit as his head tilts to the side. “Oh, no no, what’d I do?” He pulls his silky, cerulean handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabs it gently on the corner of your mouth.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He murmurs, and you give him a weak, sanguine smile. When he's done, he tells you, “Do cover it up with some makeup; we don't want Soldier Boy to see your pretty face worked up, do we?” He grins, but it's empty of any sliver of sympathy. “Now, shake a leg, would you? Legend said Soldier Boy wanted to see you by noon. We don't want to give them the impression that we're a bunch of slackers, do we?”

You nod meekly.

Ben groans in pleasure, his body shivering in a long lost voraciousness. He wonders if the curl of your lips when you smiled at him and the enchanting glance of your eyes have something to do with that as his load washes abundantly on his hand. He's so engrossed in his high that he doesn't detect the knocks on his door.

“Oh, for fuck's sake!” Legend grouses, his head whipping away the moment he steps into Soldier Boy's bedroom.

The latter only smirks, deft hands tugging his softening cock back in his pants. “What’s the matter? Can't look at what you don't possess?” He drawls smugly, his voice saturated with a satisfied rasp from his recent ecstasy.

“I fucking knocked! Good thing I'm not an enemy.” Legend rolls his eyes behind his shades, “Who woulda thought Soldier Boy could be shanked when he whacked off.” Legend sneers, savouring in having this sleazy clapback at the supe.

Soldier Boy's smik widens, zipping his gear pants, “You’re just saying that because my dick is twice as yours.”

Legend appears to be quite unfazed, “Well, yeah, but I never had a woman who refused an ass-fuck because of it.” He sighs, “Anyway, Ms. (L/N), is here.”

“Fucking finally…” Ben perks up, a huge smile on his face. But the Legend's slight frown makes his eyes roll. “What is it?” It's not like he wants the latter’s approval, but Legend has proven his viewpoints can be useful when it comes to Soldier Boy's career.

“Look, I know the gal has the voice and the looks.” Legend says, “But don't you think she's way… below you?” Ben raises a brow as Legend continues, “There are many better options, just saying…” 

Ben clicks his tongue, his temper is starting to fume, “She’s a fucking blast. She has the fucking talent. Isn't it your job to look out for talents?”

“Yeah, but—”

“It’s her or nothin’.” Soldier Boy asserts, and when he reads hesitance on Legend's face, he adds, “You can still have Noir do it if you want to.” He shrugs, "But here you are, you handed it to me, because you know that I get how the job's done, and nobody can pull it off like me.”

“Fine!” Legend acquiesces, it's not like he has much of a choice. “I hope you're fucking right about her.” And you're not only thinking with your dick.

“Atta boy!” Soldier Boy pats his shoulder, “Now we don't want to keep the next diva waiting, do we?”

Your heart is pounding in your chest despite how hard you're trying to maintain your cocksure exterior.

Don't you fuck this up.

Jack's words trill in your head again and again. You close your eyes and huffs an elongated breath through your nostrils. He didn't come with you, but his agonising words never leave you, and the skeptical looks shot in your direction from Vought employees passing by don't make it any better.

What am I doing here?

You question yourself again.

To make history.

Jack's words ring again in your ears.

Although you're too immersed in your thoughts, you notice the blur of green and eagle of a man sauntering down in your way with a couple of men at the either of his side.

Your mask involuntarily slips on your face as your lips concoct a conceited grin that mirrors the cocky smirk on Soldier Boy's face. You stand up to say hello.

“We meet again, honey bun.”

“Pleasure to meet you again, sir.”

Your mustered aplomb starts to waver at the mere sight of him in that green suit; it makes you hold your breath. Soldier Boy himself is standing in front of you in his green glory with his gloved hand extended to you. He looks so different from the man you met yesterday. Maybe because of his supe suit. However, you're glad he isn't wearing the helmet, his revealed face brought some familiarity to the man you met before.

He leans in to press a kiss on your knuckles as you take his offered hand to shake.

“The pleasure is all mine, (Y/N).”

You resist the heat travelling up to your ears. “Thank you, sir.”

“Please, call me Ben.” He says in a somewhat ordering tone and you nod.

Soldier Boy introduces you to Legend and you shake the latter's hand too. The three of you make it to a nearby room to discuss business.

“I’d like to thank Soldier — Ben for giving me such an opportunity to perform by his side. I'm honoured, sir.” You start. “I’m gonna make sure it's worth your while.”

“You’ll sure do, dollface, you'll sure do.” He pours you and himself a glass of liquor, letting Legend pour his own glass which makes you raise a brow. It's still midday. You politely turn down the glass.

You and I are both aware that he isn't only after that pretty voice of yours. 

Jack's words ring in your ear. You can clearly picture his smirking face staring at you.

“I was at the wedding last night, y'know,” Legend lights up a cigar as he drawls, “And let me tell ya that recognising a talent when I see or hear it is what pays my bills.” He takes a drag and puffs it out of his nostrils.

You thank him before he asks you about your career, making it feel like it's a job interview or something of the sort. You tell him the story you tell everybody. That you've always had a knack for singing ever since you were a child. And you used to sing at school, then you continued your passion and sang in bars and clubs until Jack beheld one of your performances and took you under his wing ever since. Which it's true, sort of.

“Jack is a good teach, he taught me everything I know to entertain my audience.” Your eyes flit momentarily at Soldier Boy whose eyes never leave you, then you grin back at Legend, “Making him a lot much like you sir. He flushes out the talent when he sees it.”

Legend grins back, taking another waft of his cigar, “Has he ever had you perform for another media before?”

You shake your head, “No, sir, my audience is still limited.”

“Ah, perfect, what could be better than a talented new face,” Legend says, “Well, I think we're all in for a treat, sweetheart. Vought would be happy to introduce you to the public. A pretty new face with a beautiful voice, singing for the first time and next to Soldier Boy. I think that would give you a great privilege if you tipped your cards right…”

“And it can be more than a one-time thing…” Soldier Boy adds, a satisfied grin on his face, but you didn't miss the way Legend's lips twitch.

“Are you trying to employ me, sir?” You raise an eyebrow.

“We’re offering you a chance of a lifetime.” Legend takes another drag, which seems rather an elongated sigh than a normal puff, “Our entertainment business is always happy to make and nurture gifted new faces.”

You stay silent for a moment. This is big. Unbelievably big. You're literally being offered a job at Vought. It's something you wouldn't even dare dreaming about. Jack didn't tell you anything about this.

Don't you fuck it up. 

Jack's voice reverberates in the back of your head again.

“But I'm not a supe, sir, how come I'd be useful for the company?” You ask. “And what about Jack?”

You could've sworn you saw the slightest irritation in Soldier Boy's eyes.

“Do you see me with one, sweetheart?” Legend lets out an amused snore, “Yet, here I am.” He splays his arms open in showboat manner. “As for Jack, he'll still be your manager under our terms, of course, as agreed accordingly.”

Your eyebrows furrow. As agreed accordingly? Of course, you scoff internally. He's already sold you out to Vought the moment he sniffed the smell of cash. Well, you can't argue with that really; you owe the man your life. You're his, like her always tells you.

Despite everything being played out of your control, you still insist on having a say in this, or at least to seem so.

“Good,” You smile cordially, “Because I'd have humbly declined your offer hadn't Jack been kept in the picture.”

“Ever did any of blues shit before, dollface?”

You can detect the drastic change in Soldier Boy's tone.

“No, not as of yet.”

“Well, good thing you have someone's been long enough in the trade to teach you some of the ol’ tricks, darlin'.” His teeth bare in a shark like smile that doesn't set well in you.

Your heart paces up as adrenaline rushes through your veins, choosing to accept the challenge, “I’m down for it, Ben.”

🦅 Previous Chapter: Tenderly.

🦅 Next Chapter: Mirrors.

🦅 Somewhere In Your Heart Masterlist.

🦅 Soldier Boy Masterlist.

Taglist: @thebiggerbear, @zepskies, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deansbbyx, @deans-spinster-witch

@venus-haze, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @ketchupjasmin, @demodemo909

@mystic-mara, @donniedarkolover, @pepsicolacoochie...

[klausysworld]

OMG I NEED A FIC OF A THREESOME OF READER, KLAUS AND CAMI !! IM BEGGING😫😫 what the storyline or plot line is, is completely up to you💕

(Warning: Y/N is intoxicated but it is all consensual)

The One For Them

I felt a little intimidated, sat beside a very attractive man who's eyes had trailed my body almost a dozen times. Each time his alluring eyes met mine, I would turn my head away as quickly as possible, trying to shift my focus on anyone else.

Almost every time my eyes would drift to the bartender, Camille her name tag informed me. I would admire her hair and the way her blouse shifted to show a thin band of her soft skin before the top of her jeans hid the rest. However sometimes she would catch my gaze too and I'd go back to the man beside me.

It was stressful in the most exhilarating way, my nerves was on edge and tingling through my body.

I tapped anxiously on my glass, it had been empty for a small while now but I couldn't find the words to ask for anything more and I felt too self-conscious to get up and leave.

Eventually a glass was pushed in front of me but not by the bartender. The man had slid an amber liquid within my reach. "It'll take the edge of, sweetheart." He told me, a smirk on his lips right before the woman's voice cut in.

"Klaus, she's too young to be drinking anything that strong." Camille scolded and my mind absorbed his name into memory.

"Don't be ridiculous, love. You're old enough, aren't you sweetheart?" His voice was like a purr that crawled along my spine, spreading a strange warmth across my skin.

Hesitantly I glanced to Camille and gave a faint nod to which her expression softened from the previous annoyed look she held.

"You don't have to drink it, he's just trying to get you drunk-" She whispered and Klaus scoffed.

"I'm just helping her to loosen up, she's feeling all nervous." He argued and my eyes flickered between them, taking in their bickering and realising that they were definitely a couple.

That made me feel even more awkward. Without really thinking I pushed my stall out and got up only to have my forearm grabbed, his fingers wrapped around my wrist.

"Don't go running, sweetheart. I just want you to have a drink with me, with us. Don't you want a drink with us?" He mused, eyes looking up at me with an authoritative stare which made me sit back down.

"You're scaring her." Camille whispered in a sing song and I shifted a little uncomfortably as if confirming her assumptions. In response his grip loosened on my arm and his thumb caressed over my pulse point.

I glanced up to the bartender, trying to gauge her reaction to her presumed boyfriend almost holding my hand. She wasn't looking at him though, her eyes were on mine. It was a little confusing, the whole situation. My eyes glance around the bar, not really noticing anybody before I ended up looking back between them.

Klaus turned my wrist and placed the glass of whiskey against my palm, urging me to try it.

I could feel them both watching as I lifted it to my lips and let the liquid flow down past my tongue, the heat within my throat wasn't entirely unpleasant though the unfamiliar burn made my chest produce a harsh cough in retaliation.

Camille's laugh was amused but not mocking as she took the drink away from my hold.

"I'll fix you something sweeter, honey." She told me and got to it.

Time ticked by and my body started to feel lighter and heavier at the same time, my thoughts much freer. There was a gentle buzz throughout my insides which made me laugh each time either of them said anything even the slightest bit funny.

By the time Camille's shift had ended my cheeks hurt from smiling and Klaus's arm was round my waist, helping me up from my stool. Camille's hand was holding mine, her nails were short but her fingertips still drew hypnotising circles into my skin which made my head lull.

"Oh, sweetheart, head up." Klaus's voice reminded me, helping my head back onto my shoulders as we wondered through the streets. The music and the chatter and the screaming made my head ring and for a second I felt my breathing stop, my mind blank.

"Hey...you're okay." She told me, her voice soft like a mothers. "I shouldn't have given you so many drinks...I thought you'd be alright."

"She is alright." Klaus's voice echoed, so much louder than Camille's. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." He muttered, a bit quieter this time as he knelt down beside me.

"Where am I?" I mumbled, my throat scratchy.

"Our home." Klaus grinned, his face looking down at mine. "Specifically our couch." He chuckled, hand on my arm making the hairs across my body raise.

Camille helped me sit up, her hands on my shoulder as she tucked a strand of hair about my ear.

My eyes glanced to her lips, unable to focus on the sound they produced, only the way they moved. The couch dipped behind me, I felt it as my body shifted. I tried to click my senses into place but two hands on my hips made my head drop to see.

Klaus had me in his grip, but it wasn't harsh or painful; just firm.

"You're so perfect." Camille's voice whispered, my attention finally finding the sound. My cheeked blushed pink and I looked up at her shyly.

Klaus's hands lifted me back and onto his lap, I felt my body tense for a second as I felt myself rest against his bulge. I whined quietly, looking down to see but I couldn't.

"It's okay." Camille told me gently, hands back on my cheeks to guide my gaze back to her. I looked up at her, a small nervous lump in my throat which was long forgotten when her lips pressed to mine.

The bubble of air caught in my throat as her mouth moved against mine. My eyes closed and I leaned into it, my hands shakily lifting to touch her but I wasn't sure I should. My lips parted in slight surprise when her fingers wrapped around my wrists and pulled my hands onto the sides of her covered breasts.

I couldn't help but feel the firmness of them against my palms. I squeezed almost hesitantly, my mind spinning as I felt Klaus's hardness rubbing between my thighs. His hands slid up to my waist, lifting my shirt at the same time.

Camille's hands pushed my hair back, out of face and she let our foreheads press together. "You're such a good girl." She praised and glanced up to Klaus. "Please be gentle on her? I like her."

"Hush, love." He mumbled, his fingers un-popping the button on my jeans, urging my attention bad down.

"You...you do this a lot?" I ask, confused.

"Only when we find someone deserving and you, my love, are so deserving...so right for us." He murmured, his lips brushing over my shoulder. I glanced down, confused my my lack of top.

"I don't understand." I whispered and Camille kissed my cheek.

"We just want to see you, feel you. Enjoy you." She whispered, her voice making me shudder.

"You'll be taken care of, sweetheart." Klaus muttered, his hands now on my bare thighs since he must've gotten my pants off. "I'll be gentle; this time."

"Okay..." I whisper, complying and Camille grinned happily whilst Klaus's fingers stroked the edges of my folds.

I let out a whimper, my hips lifting at the unexpected sensitivity, the alcohol still in my system and raising my nerves.

Camille let out a little laugh and rubbed my back, unclipping my bra as she did so. I curl my fingers into my own palms, Klaus's fingers slid through my wetness; stroking meanwhile Camille's fingers circled and brushed past my nipples.

So many sensations were pricking at me all at once, my eyes drooped as Camille's tongue wrapped around one of my nipples and two of Klaus's fingers stretched me open.

"Mmh.." I moaned softly, my body arching toward both of them. My hips started to rock involuntarily, effectively riding his hand.

"That's a good girl." I heard Klaus's voice murmur, low and gravelly. "I bet you'll feel so beautiful on my cock, sweetheart." I could only moan in response, his words filled my mind with filthy images whilst Camille bit down on my hardened but before swapping to the other one.

My pussy clenched when a third finger was squeezed into me, all three curling so perfectly that I felt my legs quiver. After a moment the warmth was missing from my chest and Camille's arms were around my wait, encouraging my hips to bounce up and down eagerly.

"I cant wait to taste you." Cami whispered and I felt my cheeks heat up before her lips took mine, her mouth swallowing my moans down as Klaus's hand sped up and took me over the edge and my eyes closed to focus on the bliss.

My body was coddled to Camille's bare chest when my eyes opened again, her hand was stroking the side of my face and I could feel Klaus's hand smoothing my leg and knee.

"You're so beautiful when you come undone." Cami murmured with a soft smile on her lips which made me blush again.

"Indeed, sweetheart. You are quite the sight." Klaus chuckled, his lips kissing my knee before I felt the bed around me now dip.

"Did we move?" I mumble and Klaus hummed.

"Poor thing, blacked out for a moment. Your whole body was shaking like a leaf, my dearest Camille had to clean you up with her tongue. We figured the bed would be a comfortable place for you for the rest of the night." He informed me, his voice was soothing in a way; perhaps it was just the accent.

I nodded a little and nuzzled into Cami's chest, feeling the softness of her breasts. I felt Klaus's fingers in my hair, pushing me down slowly until her spread legs were waiting patiently for me. I complied, my lips pressing soft kisses to her inner thighs before Klaus guided me to her pussy.

Hesitantly I licked along her folds, her taste sweet and addictive on my tongue. "Good girl, I bet that tongue know lots of tricks doesn't she?" Klaus teased and chuckled.

I wanted to look up at him, see the look in his eyes as he held me down but I wasn't in any position to move.

My eyelids drooped but stayed open enough to see the pinkness of her pussy as I sucked on her clit. I could faintly hear her whining and moaning but the soft manly grunts made my brows furrow in confusion.

I pulled my head up to look, my eyes locking with Cami's lust filled ones before seeing Klaus's hand wrapped around his thick cock, pumping himself teasingly as his other hand pushed my head back down into his partners cunt.

I dipped my tongue into her entrance, my lips sucking and my mouth pushing close to gently nibble at the sensitive flesh. I hummed pleasantly against her when her pussy started grinding into my mouth, her clit all swollen and needy.

My eyes closed when her taste flooded my mouth, I lapped at her folds gently until I was sure she was clean.

The hand in my hair tugged me up, lifting my head up before shoving it back down onto Klaus's cock. His head sliding straight through my mouth and nudging the back of my throat, I choked lightly around him but I didn't mind.

I kept suckling, ignoring the way my saliva dripped down his shaft as he pulled me back up. My eyes rolled back, catching sight of his groaning face as his cum filled my mouth.

They each tasted so different and yet equally delicious, both making me desperate for more.

"Good girl, come here." Klaus's voice commanded and I felt a little hazy as I sat up and looked to him, seeing him pat the space infront of him. I sit facing him but he chuckled and span me round, lifting me by my hips so my ass was up for him.

I let out a whimper when I felt his cock penetrate me from behind, klaus had left his gentleness for the time being, his pace immediately fast and rough making me cry out but not entirely from pain.

There was an element of beauty that entangled itself with the sting, masking the hurt and making me moan instead of cry.

I could feel Camille's hands in my hair, her lips on my ear as she begged me to be louder. Klaus was deep inside me, pushing and stroking against all the right spots until my entire mind, body and being were completely out of control, drawing a blank. It felt like I was seizing with uncontrollable pleasure, my body clenching and trembling around him, against her.

It was messy, sticky and hot. I couldn't help but love it.

Even once I was laid, covered by a thick blanket with my eyes unable to open from exhaustion. I still loved it.

The faint conversation of the couple played beside me as a large hand rested against my hip.

"This one's perfect, Klaus." Cami told him, her tone almost desperate.

"We'll see how she does, my love." Klaus assured her and that was all I was conscious enough to remember.

[thinemoonshine]

୨♡୧ "𝔀𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝔂𝐨𝐮 𝓶𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝓶𝐞?" ˚｡⋆

enhypen 8th fem!member x ot7 content(s): enha are either supportive or not at all, (y/n) accepting the proposals—earning objections, a tinge of jealousy(?), dramatic jake, playful jay, sunghoon is NOT playing type: oneshot(s) word count: 2.3k

this work is based of ૮꒰ྀིthis꒱ྀིა ask!

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚synopsis: (y/n) sees a fan’s marriage proposal and she accepts just for the fun of it but her willingness evokes mixed reactions from her dramatic teammates ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

⋆˙𐙚 L.HEESEUNG 𐙚˙⋆

“sunghoon’s gonna be a bit late because of his schedule so it’s just me and (y/n) for now,” heeseung explains briefly after starting the live with the aforementioned girl.

the two make small random conversations in the meantime and even end up making ramen cups—a permitted late night snack since they have the next day off.

“‘heeseung, you’re so handsome and cute,’” (y/n) reads a comment and turns to him with a smirk when she sees him already wearing a smug grin. she turns back to the camera. “his ego is getting bigger by the day because of you guys.”

heeseung scoffs a retort. “oh, you’re just jealous. engene is just showing love.”

“i never told them to stop,” the other defends, hands raised to her chest. she then stares at the screen again to read comment after comment, some mentally and some verbally when one catches her eye. “‘(y/n), will you marry me?’”

now it’s her turn to wear a smug grin as she gives a knowing look to the lens. with a playful tilt of her head, her rosy lips part in an equally kittenish manner. “sure.”

“ohh~” heeseung sounds while turning to her, a grin forming before he chuckles. “you’re getting married now, huh? you haven’t even told the other members. they’re gonna be upset.”

(y/n) snickers, playing along his script. “i can just get married in secret.”

“oh?” hee sounds and a smirk forms. “i don’t think so. you can’t hide something this big from us.”

“i can, though.”

her stubbornness only ignites his urge to win and he scoffs.

“then, i object.”

“huh?? you can’t object my wedding!” (y/n) argues at his sudden declaration and he only retains his sneaky mien—knowing full well that his opinion and thoughts matter a lot to her since he’s the oldest, even when she doesn’t realise it.

heeseung shrugs languidly and bottom lip sticks out mockingly. “well, if you’re going to do some secret wedding without us then i think it’s going to be a problem. we practically raised you.”

“…tch.”

her little sassy noise makes him stifle a chuckle and he pats her head as if trying to tame an angry kitten.

“you’re not leaving us just yet, (y/n).”

⋆˙𐙚 P.JONGSEONG 𐙚˙⋆

(y/n) skips across the stage to go to jongseong, waving ecstatically at the fans who are watching occasionally. jay smiles seeing her hop to his side as he sings his line flawlessly.

when the two aren’t singing, they’re interacting with fans—waving, posing, and even jabbing at one another to show their harmonious relationship with one another.

(y/n) however, spots a very noticeable signboard designed with white frills and even a pair of mini bells stuck on the centre upper page of it. below them, the question, ‘WILL YOU MARRY ME, (Y/N)?’ is bolded and hard to miss.

she laughs at the sight, making the fans scream and cheer as she points at the proposing fan before giving a thumbs up. the fan practically vibrated on their spot at being acknowledged.

“a proposal?” jay then asks after seeing her gestures and (y/n) grins cheekily.

“yeah. look at the sign, they designed it so well,” she admires. both of their mics down to their sides so their conversation remains private.

jay stares at her momentarily, watching as she interacts with more fans before turning to the one who proposed—his arms crossing one another to make an ‘X.’

(y/n) catches and nudges him by the arm. “hey! don’t object my marriage!”

the man chuckles, laughing it off. “no, i’m going to keep going to~ they’ll have to talk with us first if they want to get married with you~”

“this isn’t a serious thing,” she scoffs with amusement at hearing his squeaky, nosy tone he uses at times and shakes her head. “but you’re still going to be the mc for my wedding though, right?”

jongseong stares at her once more, eyes shifting between hers before a grin of mischief forms. “nope.”

this earns him a playful kick to which he runs away to—not without looking back at her ‘fiancée’ and swiping his hand side to side near his throat to gesture a ‘cancel the wedding’ before pointing to a chasing (y/n) to emphasize her aggressive nature.

⋆˙𐙚 S.JAEYUN 𐙚˙⋆

(y/n) and jake are having a duo live with him doing most of the talking and the former reacting. it’s nighttime, she’s tired but she can’t just forego the scheduled session.

“yeah, so (y/n)’s room is actually a bit further away from us in the hotel but she’s always lurking around ours and stealing our food,” jake reports with a grin that widens to show his beautiful set of teeth when he sees her shooting him a glare through the screen.

a comfortable silence engulfs them once more as they read the comments flooding the screen.

“‘(y/n), will you marry me?’” jake thoughtlessly reads as it’s an english question, not expecting anything since the subject is too sleepy to even utter a single word.

so when she replies a short, casual, “sure,” his head whips towards her instantly with eyes wide and lips parted. she reciprocates the stare although, not as intense and dramatic as his.

“what?” she asks, brows knit at his prolonged eye contact.

“i didn’t think you’d accept. are you gonna leave me now?” his question falls from his lips sadly, brows angled downwards at the ends as his eyes stare pitiably at her.

she blinks. once. twice.

“huh?” she sounds, missing portions of his questions due to her drowsiness and jake dramatically turns to the screen like he’s in an episode of ‘the office.’

“guys, (y/n) doesn’t wanna be friends with me anymore. she’s actually leaving me,” he says with an exaggerated sniffle and adding more theatrics by wiping his dry eyes with his index finger.

the girl behind can only furrow while shaking her head at the camera and mouthing, “i don’t know what the man’s talking about.”

jake lets out a pained ‘ack!’ as he clutches his shirt covering his chest. “oh, the agony. the agony!!”

“like he hasn’t accepted marriage proposals before right, engene?” (y/n) scoffs and side-eyes the other blatantly. “he even brought a whole ring.”

jake brings his hands up in defense. “but that’s different!”

“so you can do it but i can’t?” she arches a brow and both of them share a staring contest before he suddenly turns to the camera again.

“guys, she’s actually leaving us. my bestfriend doesn’t like me anymore, she wants to leave us.”

“quit changing the narrative!”

⋆˙𐙚 P.SUNGHOON 𐙚˙⋆

“‘(y/n), will you marry m—’ no,” sunghoon firmly objects even before reading the whole comment. “she’s young.”

(y/n)’s brows knit and she stifles a laugh. “you make it sound like you’re that much older. we’re around the same age.”

“no,” he rejects sternly again and faces the camera while she watches their live from a tablet. “guys, (y/n)’s still young.”

and as if intentionally teasing him, the fans quickly flood the comment section with facts.

‘but she can already marry tho.’

‘she’s an adult.’

‘she can still have a fiancée.’

‘they say marrying young is better.’

the girl’s already grinning as she reads through them, cognizant of the protective nature of sunghoon, the brother she never had.

and her theory’s proven right when sunghoon subtly yet visibly clicks his tongue to show his displeasure like when ni-ki mispronounced ‘flower princes’ that one time to something…entirely different.

“you’re finding this funny?” sunghoon asks with a disapproving tone when he turns to a giggling (y/n)—which only makes her giggles evolve to laughter.

“whaaat? it’s not like i can’t get married. they’re not wrong at all, y’know?” she adds fuel to his flame and he sighs exasperatedly.

he doesn’t push the matter further after that. in fact, he’s mostly silent throughout the live with face to the ceiling and hands joint in front of his face like a prayer everytime someone comments the word ‘(y/n)’ and ‘marriage’ in the same sentence.

“wah~ it’s like the whole world wants to marry (y/n) suddenly, huh?” he sarcastically says with a smile that belies his internal discontent but his tone surely sends the message.

(y/n) only grins at the camera but quickly drops it when sunghoon whips his head to her with a thick brow arched.

“why are you smiling?”

“oh, come on! first marriage and now smiling’s a problem too??”

⋆˙𐙚 Y.JUNGWON 𐙚˙⋆

“someone’s asking to marry you,” jungwon tells after reading the proposal from a fan.

(y/n) looks up from playing with her hoodie’s trim, a bright grin stretching. “really? you want to marry me?”

jungwon stares at the comment section, watching it flood with people’s abrupt proposals to her suddenly. “wah, there’s a lot.”

“hmm~ let me think about it,” she hums with a finger on her chin. “what do you think, leader-nim?”

“me?” he asks back with brows raised and eyes round. her nod urges him to continue. “um… maybe? i don’t know. but then, how about the other fans that you don’t marry?”

she gasps hysterically, hand flying to her mouth. “you’re right! i love allll engenes~!!”

making finger hearts, she then blows a flying kiss to the screen which calls upon the fawning fans and jungwon chuckles at the effect.

“we love all engenes~” jungwon sings too, joining her as he makes a half heart on his left cheek which automatically makes (y/n) make a half heart on her right. they hold their faces side by side to complete the shape as they giggle.

“i did good, didn’t i?” won then asks quietly while still posing for the camera. (y/n) hums questioningly. “if i let you accept a proposal like that, hoon hyung would’ve given me an earful.”

the two snicker at this which lead to fans making edits with the clip—some trying to crack the puzzle on what they were talking about that’s so funny while some others are shipping them and making groundless romantic assumptions.

at the end of the day, jungwon ends up getting told off by sunghoon anyways.

⋆˙𐙚 K.SUNOO 𐙚˙⋆

sunoo stretches his microphone to (y/n) to let her sing in it while she does the same to him. both of them are smiley and giggly as they perform—radiant even in the dark stadium that’s only being lit up by their stage and the fans’ lightsticks.

as the two walk across the stage to interact with fans, he spots an interesting signboard which makes his clap his hand like a seal. eyes upturned to crescents, he pats the girl’s shoulder before directing her focus to his object of amusement.

‘(y/n), will you marry me?’ is written on a manila card with a cutout of her face next to it and glowsticks stuck to the edge of the page.

the female idol brings her hands to her mouth, acting all surprised and nodding vigorously to which the fan shrieks ecstatically at.

“ya, i better be your best man. i practically brought you guys together,” sunoo says with lips slightly jutted as he eyes her up and down—already accusing her of not going to do so without her even saying anything.

(y/n) cackles at this as she bobs her head again, at sunoo this time. “of course, you are! you can even be the one to help me choose my makeup look.”

he squeals at this before they high-five one another. they then turn to the others—rushing over once they realise they got too immersed in their conversations. hand in hand, they dash with hair flying back like capes in the wind and laughter ringing in each other’s ears even when the in-ears muffle them a tad bit.

the realization of (y/n) one day marrying, of one day separating from him imbues a heaviness in his chest. will that mean there won’t be any more ‘make-up’ fun times? or duo skincare nights?

sunoo’s grip tightens at the thought but still, the smile on his face remains.

he’ll worry about that when they cross that bridge.

⋆˙𐙚 N.RIKI 𐙚˙⋆

ni-ki’s the first to see it—the colourfully decorated board among the crowd with ‘(y/n), will you marry me?’ brightly written on the surface. and his first instinct? make sure (y/n) doesn’t see it.

“ki!” (y/n) calls gleefully as she dashes to him. he smiles that boxy grin of his and a chuckle escapes at seeing her hair jump and wiggle.

riki’s hand pats her head before it gets pushed away by the girl.

“you’ll ruin my hair,” she grumbles and immediately starts smiling and singing to the fans as her line comes in.

slowly rotating in her spot, she makes sure to wave at the audience on every side and that’s when riki realizes she’s going to spot the board. for some reason, he doesn’t want her to.

(y/n) finishes her line and riki’s is next. she turns to him to watch but instead finds herself in a headlock and struggling to get free.

fans scream at their interaction as riki continues to keep her captive in his arm, ignoring her attempts as he happily sings—only letting her go when her back’s turned to the proposal.

“you’re in for it now! hairstylist unnie is going to scold you!” she threatens as she touches her hairdo, making sure it’s still intact. riki snickers, a rectangle grin worn as his brows raise and shoulders shrug.

he emits a prolonged shout, barely raising his voice when she starts chasing after her with her bobby pin in hand.

“ya!! get back here!!” she commands but can’t help letting out a laugh while riki easily slips away with the use of his long legs—eyes glancing at the board before a smirk appears.

‘not today, fan.’

his brief distraction allows her to catch up but his swiftness makes him able to spin just in time for her to crash against his chest.

holding her nose, she hisses before her eyes widen at the faint foundation marks on his shirt. gasping aloud, she clasps her mouth.

“i’m going to get scolded by stylist unnie!” she dreads to which riki snickers at.

as dramatic as it is, riki doesn’t want to hear what her answer to that proposal is. not now, not ever. not when it’s for that fan, anyways.

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

𝜗𝜚 this turned out longer than i expected :0 if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog—they give me some motivation, ya know? but please, do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[melonnmiru]

haikyuu boys + acts of service !

feat. sakusa, tendou, bokuto, atsumu, ushijima

"'omi, i can do this on my own, you know."

"you say that while not trying to move away." kiyoomi noted, almost sounding smug in a way. your words, unfortunately held little effect, considering how you were perched on the toilet lid, cheek leaning on his palm. his other hand was sliding cleanser over your skin, suds forming on it. 

you sighed defeatedly, letting him continue his ministrations. he did your whole routine with diligence, watching you do your skincare every night probably imprinted your routine into his memory at this point. 

he loved spending moments like this with you. he could just enjoy the comfortable silence while doting on you, free excuse to run his fingertips over your skin and memorize every bit of it. they were calloused, and yet his touch was more comforting than anything else you've ever felt. 

after patting the last bits of your moisturizer into your skin, he stood up to his full height, walking over to the sink to wash his hands. he wiped his hands on a towel before sliding them over to either side of your face. he tilted your face up, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. pulling away, he grimaced slightly at the feeling of your moisturizer now somewhat on his lips. 

you giggled, pushing yourself from where you sat, wrapping your arms around your waist and pressing more moisturizer-covered kisses over his face. his scowl deepened, though he didn't make any effort to push you away, he'd endure it, he enjoyed your affection a bit more than how he disliked the feeling of your moisturizer, he notes to himself. 

"and she pulled out screenshots! god, i've never seen someone's face go so pale so quickly." 

satori let out a dramatic gasp, stilling the hand that was carefully painting your thumb. "no way." you nodded vigorously, giggling at his reaction. 

"yeah." you confirmed. it almost felt like a teenage sleepover, what you and satori were doing right now. the both of you sat with your legs crossed, facing each other as he painted your nails with experienced swipes. 

"not surprised though. he totes had it coming!" satori comments in a sing-song tone. he dipped the brush into the bottle, wiping it on the rim before bringing it to your index finger. you could tell he was focused, his tongue peeking out ever so slightly as his eyes squinted. 

"y'know, you're doing a pretty good job.." you noted, admiring the clean coats on your nails. he giggled, pressing a kiss on your knuckles, careful to not bump into your freshly painted nails, then one to your lips.

he then leaned back and stared at you with a goofy grin, stretching his hand out to your face, wiggling his fingers. "now paint mine!" satori chimed. you sighed, shaking your head with a grin, though picking out a bottle of dark red nail polish nonetheless. 

"yeah, and then i went like wham! and the ball slammed into their side!" 

you nodded along, smiling at koutaro's enthusiasm. the constant shine in his eyes when he talked about volleyball was something you could never get tired of, his hands moving around to further express what he was talking about. 

as he rambled, his gaze trailed down to your shoes, then back to your face, then back to your shoes with comically wide eyes. you tilted your head at his actions, a confused smile resting on your face. 

"kou, what's wrong?"

"hold on, baby. just gotta—" 

he dropped to his knee, shifting around to tie your shoelaces. he fumbled for a while, untying and retying it a few times. you stood there, silently watching him tie your shoelaces with an amusing amount of focus. 

he stood up, nodding and flashing you a wide grin. "wow, what a gentleman." you mused, almost dreamily before a small chuckle left you. he laughed boisterously, "can't let the love of my life walk around with untied shoelaces. that's unsafe!" he slipped his hand into yours, continuing his ramble with a proud smile. 

you unlocked the door to your shared house with a sigh, wanting nothing more than to slip your shoes off and flop into your bed, maybe sleep for the next sixty-eight hours.

you barely had to step foot in there before atsumu greeted you, his arms wrapping around your frame as he pressed a kiss on the crown of your head. you buried your head into the crook of his neck and shoulders, your own shoulders visibly relaxing at his touch. 

"hi, 'tsum. is it alright if we have takeout tonight? work killed me." your eyes were already closed as you spoke, leaning all your weight onto him. "no need," he leaned back to admire your tired face, pressing a small kiss against your temple. "i already made us dinner." he declared proudly, a smirk resting on his face. 

"you cooked?" 

"mhm." he nodded confidently, you shot him an unconvinced look. "...and it's edible?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, your lips curling into an amused smile. 

"hey!" 

you shrugged, "just thought osamu took all the cooking genes." 

"well, we just so happened to share! can't say the same about the looks department..."

"yeah, you were seriously unlucky there." 

atsumu gasped, shooting you a look of absolute betrayal. "your kind, generous, drop dead handsome boyfriend went out of his way to cook dinner, and this is how you repay him?!" 

your shoulders shook as you laughed, and gingerly took his hands in yours, leading him to the dining table. there sat an uncharacteristically pristine plate of rice balls, his chest puffed up in pride as your eyebrows raised in mild surprise. 

you hate to admit it's romantic. especially if you ignore the five containers shoved in the depths of your fridge, filled with his failed attempts, and his messages with his twin, begging for tips on how to cook without burning the kitchen down. 

"are you almost done?" 

you offered wakatoshi a noncommittal hum. "few more edits, and i'll be finished." the sound of clicking filled the room as you mindlessly typed away at your keyboard, eyes glued to the screen. 

he nodded, then turned around, and walked out of the room. you took your attention away from what you were writing for a few seconds to glance at the empty spot where your boyfriend had been sitting. a part of you had considered getting up to find him, but alas, this paper was due in an hour. 

a few minutes later, he returned. a glass of water in one hand, and a small bowl of sliced apples in the other. he placed them on your desk before moving behind you. his hands made their way to your shoulders, carefully massaging them as if pushing too hard would cause you to shatter.

it was amusing, how his large stature contrasted his gentle touch with you. you could almost forget that this was the same man ranked among the top three aces in japan, the same man with some of the most monstrous spikes. he'd trade his force for a moment of pure gentleness and care with you. 

you leaned into his touch like it was second nature, your head touching his torso. your eyes automatically fluttered shut as a content sigh left you. the dull ache in your shoulders from being hunched over your computer for hours seemed to completely wash away from his ministrations. 

"thanks, toshi." you mumbled, moving a hand from your keyboard to his hand, giving him a small squeeze. a noise of acknowledgement left him, it was deep, rumbling from his chest as he offered you a small, but genuine smile. wakatoshi knew he wasn't the best with his words, but he hoped these small actions spoke enough about his love for you.

an irl gave me these ideas, luv u and ur big brain greyps!!!

[i-cant-sing]

OH MY GOD, OIKAWA WOULD 💯 SLUT SHAME READER FOR WEARING A SKIRT OR SOMETHING SHORT.

Like he doesn’t care that it’s the uniform

He would!!! But like... he doesn't actually believe in it, especially if he's a platonic yandere. He's only saying it to "tease" you or bug you like most brothers do. He'd never compliment you if you ever looking nice, or if he did, it'd be a backhanded compliment. Something like- "that's a nice dress. Too bad you need to wear heels to compensate for your height! Haha, have fun!"

I can see the yandere fan girls actually dressing you up in one of the cute skirts and doing a proper "girly girl" look on you because you mentioned that you were gonna go out on a date (that Oikawa doesn't know about yet and you made the fan girls promise not to tell him because you wanted to see how things would go. In exchange for singing their praises to Oikawa of course, no good deed is free). And maybe they wanted to show you off to Oikawa, let him be impressed by how they take care of you.

They drag you to the gymnasium where he's practicing with the team.

"Tooru-chan!" They call it to him, while you're standing there, arms linked with theirs so that you can't run off.

Oikawa turns towards you, eyes widening ever so slightly at your appearance. You looked beautiful, absolutely adorable.

He walks closer, the fan girls are bubbling in excitement, you are shifting from one foot to another, nervous under his eyes that never leave yours.

"We dressed Y/n up!" One of the girls said cheerfully. "Do you like it?"

Did we a good job, Tooru? They all wondered silently.

Oikawa smiled, and the girls automatically matched his expression, only to turn to confusion as he suddenly began laughing, belly aching, thigh slapping laugh.

He was laughing at you.

"W-what the hell are you wearing!" He said between his laughs, gasping for air.

"I-" you were at a loss for words, immeadiately turning red at his reaction. Did you look bad?

He stopped laughing, slowing down to chuckles as he wiped the tears from his eyes. "Heh, what in the world were you thinking? You looked like someone puked pink on you." He pointed to your skirt and snorted. "And why would you wear a skirt? What are you trying to show off? Your square buff calves? And heels? Wow, I did not know you had chubby ankles." Your eyes welled up with tears, threatening to spill. And the fan girls could sense your humiliation, so they tried to intervene.

The leader of the fan club spoke up. "Tooru, stop joking around. She looks beautiful and you-"

"Was I taking to you?" He cut her off swiftly, glaring at her.

Oikawa walked closer to you until he was right in front of you. He bended his knees a little so he could be face to face with you. His eyes bore into your teary ones and Oikawa didn't smile as his thumb came up to smear the gloss off your lips.

"Pink gloss? Really? You look like an idiot. Change. Now." That was all it took for your tears to start falling as you ran out of the gymnasium.

Oikawa only stared at the gymnasium door that you had just ran out of, as he spoke to fan girls, but to no one in particular.

"Never dress her up like that again. She looked like a slut." He didn't need to say "or else", his fans already knew of the deadly consequences. As he returned to his practice, the girls left the gymnasium, some went to console you, while others went to their room to silently ponder upon your outfit that Oikawa deemed "slutty".

Especially because all of them dressed up like that.

So was it okay for them to look "slutty"? Or did Oikawa not like their style too?

While they went over a existential crisis over their wardrobe, Oikawa was being scolded by Iwazumi for what he said to you. Oikawa didn't bother explaining himself, because he knew what he did was right.

You did not look slutty, but if you showed your skin like that, other guys will get the wrong idea. He knows "locker room talk" the guys have, what they reduce girls to. And he'd rather you he single and insecure by his side eh were he can protect you, than look available and be hurt and heartbroken a million times worse by some scum bag, all while you're away from him.

What Oikawa didn't see was you leaving the house dressed in your comfy clothes (the girls made you change into the sweats that Oikawa had gotten for you, still trying to win his favour) and meeting your date, who proceded to hang his jacket around you when the wind picked up.

The jacket had his name on it.

USHIMJIMA.

Wonder what would cause Oikawa to have an aneurysm first? The Shiratorizawa jacket that engulfs your body? The picture of you dating his arch nemesis? Or the way Ushijima who towers over you, bends down to kiss you?

My money is on "Ushijima is now a yandere for you and you're the first and last girl he'll ever date and Oikawa will have to pry you from his cold dead arms before he'll let you go."

[viciousvortexx]

Some of my Vergil headcanons

just random headcanons about anything <3

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

★ Vergil likes to leave gifts on places he knows you could easily find, like over the table, over your bed, in front of your door. He'll always do it before he's gone for a mission, and when he's back, will casually ask while you're talking to each other, “did you like the roses?”

★ Physical touch to him is something very intimate, no hugs or something like this unless you're close to him, he watches over his personal space.

★ Still talking about physical touch, there's nothing more intimate than holding someone's hand, this means how comfortable and close you're and how much you trust this person to let your guard down to relax and hold hands. Touching hands it's like a bridge to connect yourself with someone else. Also, this means he would love to caress the back of your hand, trace the patterns of your palm, kiss it...

★ Eye contact is also very important to him, it's noticeable how hard is for Vergil to keep eye contact on casual situations, even though he's trying his best. So when those crystal clear blue eyes are locked on yours, he won't take them away unless someone else appears, eye contact is powerful and can talk more than words.

★ He loves to do cleaning, taking off his coat to wear an apron instead.

★ When hugging, he'll place one arm around your waist while his free hand gently press your head to his chest, peting your hair.

★ Secretly sings his favorite songs when no one is around.

★ Organize his books by alphabetical order.

★ Definitely would use those silk pajamas sets with buttons.

★ About Vergil's phone: the brightness will always be too high or too low, the speakers are probably low cause he was watching cute and funny cat compilations on the van and he didn't want to bother, definitely there's a lot of accidental selfies he took by opening the camera and the ringtone is LOUD, really loud (he doesn't know how to change it properly and is ashamed to ask Dante or Nero since they'll probably make fun of him).

Plus: use a lot the thumbs up emoji after someone complained he only views the messages and doesn't say anything, so he started to use the thumbs up as a reaction.

★ He likes to make his tea the old way, doesn't like tea bags.

★ Call anything technological a "device" since those things are new to him and he's learning the names and how they work. “Nero, come here, my device is broken again.”

★ The only time you would see Vergil with his hair down is when it's wet or if he's too tired to groom it (like, can't even keep his eyes open), if not, he'll always groom his hair to make it look the way it is, he's a man of routine (and also it makes him look different from his twin, so that's why he isn't going on public with his hair down).

★ He loves classical music, but that doesn't mean he isn't open to discover new genres and tunes.

★ Vergil used to make dog ears on the pages of his books when he was a kid to continue reading it later, but he noticed it crumples the paper so stopped doing it.

★ He is extremely warm because of his demon nature, just like an walking oven baking cookies, that's why cats are always attracted by him, there's often cat fur on his coat, probably Vergil faced a kitten on the streets and it started to butt the head on his legs to feel his warmth.

★ Always have a pleasant smell, unless when he's back from a mission, that's why he takes so long in the bath.

★ Loves citrus fruits.

★ Vergil takes a lot of pictures of the sky and nature, he treasures them and shows to the ones he treasures the same way.

★ Won't tell anybody if he got hurt during a mission, waiting for it to heal by itself (this also happens if he get sick).

★ Heard Dante listening to dad rock once, after that he tried to listen to a couple of songs too and started to like it.

★ Knows a bit of Latin from old books he read once.

★ Vergil is passionate and enthusiastic about the things he likes, he can spend hours talking about it with that glimmer he has on his eyes when happy.

★ The same way he likes someone to listen about his interests, also likes to be the one who listens to it from others, he's a very good listener.

★ One of his hobbies is writing his own poems on yellowed rag paper with a feather pen (things he like to buy with his money), he keeps them hide inside a little box.