#and the flop level of everyone before and after him

[ludcake]

biggest jaehaerys flop moment as king (rather than husband and father) is when his wife, THE QUEEN, went to the citadel (his wife who is notable for being the proponent and biggest driving force of some of the main reforms of her time) and she said "hey why don't the girls get to go to the citadel" and immediately got laughed off the stage by the weird wizards and didn't get back up by anyone

(same citadel that her son attended btw)

[evilminji]

You know what would be both Cool(tm) AND Pants Shittingly Terrifying? Eldritch Space Whale Danny!

Except NOT! Because he's not a whale! Just snoozing and Giganto-Fuck-Off HUGE!

Imagine it! Danny. Joint Custody Child of The Ancients Of Time And Space. Space is SALTY AF because their BITCH OF AN EX has used his FUCKING POWERS, AGAIN, to CHEAT. Clockwork how DARE YOU.

You knew he'd be our Son in advance!

YOU SNUCK IN AND STARTING BONDING WITH OUR CHILD BEHIND MY BACK!

YOU [REDACTED]!

Danny? Sitting off to the Side as a Sentient Everything and Nothing made of galaxies and starlight, howls expletives at their Ex, who is being... REALLY snippy back? WOW, Clockwork. I mean, JESUS, man. Danny's from "oh bless their heart" Nowhere, Midwest. And even HE thinks that last one was both backhanded and cold af.

......he should take notes. *continues to eat his popcorn*

Anyway! APPARENTLY, Space Parent has taken him in the divorce. With much huffing. Tucked under their arm Like The Football(tm). And honestly? This is kinda hilarious, so he's cool with it. Byyyyyy~ Clock Dad! See you on weekends~☆!

*Exasperated Time Noises*

It's pretty cool! He learns a lot. Learns he's probably? Gonna be SOME variation of Space Ghost. Might even take over Space's... well, EVERYTHING, should the unforeseeable occur. So obviously, gonna have to learn The Family Business, as it were!

Which?

UNSPEAKABLY HYPED, YES PLEASE.

SPACE AND STAR STUFF! HECK YEAH!

Unfortunately? Still a Halfa. Bleh, squishy need to eat and sleep. Why they get in the way of Hyperfixation? Why no more space dust? Nooooo, don't drag him away from the controls! He can still learn! Sleep is for quitters! Cowards! *whining in Give Me Back My Blorbos, You Monsters*

But, no. He apparently has to "take care of his body" and "not burn out". Eat "real food". A protein bar counts! He probably ate one of those! Give him back his STARS! He doesn't CARE if he sounds like a toddler! That's DIRECT ACCESS TO THE SECRETS OF SPACE ITSELF! He'll BITE, so HELP HIM-! *Is scruffed like a cranky infant being carried off to beddy bye*

Injustice! D:<

But, none the less, body's require sleep. He shovles down his food, washes up, and flops down in his bed. In the nice lil cozy "Safe For My Half Apprentice Who Is Also My Adopted Son" corner. He passes out in that corner. Starts to float, as he has done countless times before, when agitated before bed. Floats OUT of that corner.

That Safe Little Corner.

IN THE CENTER, THE BEATING HEART OF SPACE.

You know... the place ALL OF SPACE connects too. Where Universe Form and Die. The Grand Recycler. Dust to Dust, from the ashes of old, to the creation of new. Where PORTALS are randomly assigned. So that the Omniversal Ectoplasmic Levels may always be balanced at near to perfect levels, allowing free flow of Souls through the various Reincarnation cycles.

Space, of course, doesn't MANAGE the Ectoplasm itself. Nor the Souls! Different Ancient for THAT, but they DO manage the PORTALS. We live in a SYSTEM after all. Everyone has their "departments" as it were. So really, it's quiet... Danny? Honey? Awful quiet back there! You, uh, fallen asleep, Starlight?

*empty room*

(O.O)

*inhale* AAAAAAAAAAA-!!!!!!!

Meanwhile! He be Snoozin'! And Ghostin'! Ghost Snoozin'! Is extra comfy, cause he weightless and got not booooones~☆!

But! He? Is not a child anymore! Has learned to... for lack of a better term, Let Go. To finally ACCEPT his Death. His inhumanity. His Amortality. Death no longer holds him, can no longer let him go. He is... not immortal. He is disowned, by his own doing and his own choice, at his timeless moment of Ending.

When Life let go of his hand and Death kindly offered theirs, he did not take it.

And that's okay.

It took awhile. Talking to older ghosts. Most vague and vast, near formless. Because it's... it's scary. And it's all you know. All, really, you've EVER known. Inherent to your identity, even after you leave that part you behind.

You are "human". "Martian" or "Xy'xeruian", something else, and you never question it. Even when you've left behind everything ELSE. Your name, your eyes, your history and skin. Yet you fly around and pretend. Still alive, still human.

But is that YOU?

Or just the form you found your start in?

And like? It's okay if it IS! Sometimes, yeah, you ARE. You look down deep and find a "don't know what you were expecting, buddy" sign stapled to a mirror. But more often? It's that last hurdle. The final step in Letting Go.

Everyone mourns at their own pace.

And they are the ghosts of who they were.

It helped. Mourning for the kid he was. Who was fourteen and wanted to be an astronaut. Who died and will never have a grave. The longer he exsists, for he can't technically be called Alive, the more painfully young that child seems.

It was okay.

To cry for Danny Fenton.

Then? To let him go. Let his memory, be memory. And his Past be the grave that child rests in. Loved dearly and remembered, but no longer binding his soul.

He doesn't have to wear that face anymore.

No tributes to the Dead.

He got? Kinda... BIG. Like REALLY big. Spiraling, serpentine, cracking ice, and burning galaxies. Like a fourth dimensional dragon, of ice and stars, somehow forcing its way into a three dimensional space. Atop it all, between two vast, impossible horns? Made of glacial ice coating the warping hearts of black holes, who's shape themselves seem to shift in unknowable ways? There burns, like comet trails, with super novas, compressed to decorative gems beneath glittering morning frost, a Terrible Crown.

He? Thinks? He MIGHT have wings.

He can't tell.

Because APPARENTLY he's a fuckin tesseract! Oh, no, sorry. He might me a Zone DAMNED PENTERACT!!! Is THIS what he gets for hanging out with Clockwork all the time? He just liked the quiet! Now his "true form" is PHYSICALLY PAINFUL for most people to look at!

Clock Dad WHAT THE HELL?!

(You see, now, why Space broke up with him? An ASSHOLE)

So! Danny stays, usually at least, in his "Hi, yes, I am Normal Human Man" Ghost form. But NOW? Now it PINCHS. Because it's TOO SMALL. But hey, that's fine! It's not like he has an ingrained habit of transforming when super tired and stressed! To float sleep for Maximum Restfulness(tm).

Ha ha!

Why does that feel like foreshadowing?

BECAUSE IT IS!

Danny? Snoozing! Space? Has LOST THE BABY! Portals? Have done a Jood Gob in Portalling, something they are vaguely sure they are supposed to be doing! Yay them! They have no brain cells but still enjoy helping! They moved a thing! That's helpful right? Yay! Probably!

And on DC's planet Earth?

They? Just choked on their fuckin coffee. One moment? La dee daa~ oooh~ look! Stars! Deep space! Oh, hiiii~ Watchtower! The NEXT? *every alarm in the building starts LOSING ITS SHIT* Giant World OBLITERATING SHAPE completely takes up the screen.

From near PLUTO.

There are NO WORDS TO DISCRIBE HOW FUCK OFF BIG THIS THING IS, MR. PRESIDENT. It will eat our nukes and LAUGH. Call! EVERYBODY!!!

Obviously? Superman. I mean really, OF COURSE Superman. Frankly, all the Supers. Because we would like to KEEP having a planet, thanks. Only? The more reports that come in? The more everyone is getting "oh fuck. This is a Workd Eater" vibes.

A massive, massive, Sleeping Titan of a Planet Destroying World Eater.

That MIGHT BE MAGIC.

*highly stressed Everyone noises*

And WORSE? Superman? Can't TOUCH it! Oh sure, at FIRST he could! But then he apparently pushed too hard in just one spot! And it felt POKED AT. So now, after flicking superman HALFWAY BACK TO EARTH to make him stop? No one can physically touch it!

But! There is hope!

Because? The creature is GREEN. Bright, luminous, Lantern Green! And Earth's Lanterns have already sent for back up. Combined? The were able to move a... hand? Paw? Something. But! With the combine forces of several nearby sectors of Lanterns? They promise the power to either relocate the creature or at least hold it in orbit until FURTHER forces can be deployed!

They refuse to harm the creature until it proves actively hostile, as it could have been seeking a place to nap and chosen one inconvenient to established planetary life. Frankly? Earth doesn't CARE where you relocate the giant Eldritch Space Dragon. Just NOT IN OUR BACKYARD, PLEASE.

....YES WE ARE SURE! We don't CARE if the scientific community of our planet is begging you to set up an area for them to place an "observation satellite"! No giant Eldritch Space Dragons in our solar system! It might WAKE UP!

Naturally, about half way THROUGH this Highly Delicate Operation?

Danny Wakes Up.

@hypewinter @hdgnj @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @mutable-manifestation

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Shelter - 3

Summary: You saved Soap's life. Your life continues to go off the rails.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley/F!Reader (No Y/N)

Warnings For This Chapter: Continued military inaccuracies, my attempt at writing accents, slow burn romance, canon typical violence and death, ...soft!Simon

A/N: Thank you to everyone who commented or liked the last chapter! Your continued support means the world to me.

Previous Chapter

“Quiet, Johnny.”

The Scot muffled his chuckle into his palm as he walked beside Simon, leading the charge up to the house. Gaz and Price were hauling the bags up from the car behind him. And Simon…Simon was carrying her.

The safehouse was up near the Scottish borders, quiet and secluded. And old. Well stocked, if Laswell’s promises meant anything (they almost always did) and Price said he’d used it before, calling it “basically a B&B.” The last stretch of the trek had been on a dirt road that hadn’t shown up on any sort of navigation system and they had to refer to a poorly drawn map. They’d hit more than a few rocks.

She was a heavy sleeper. Hadn’t moved when the entire SUV jostled over the uneven terrain or when it came to an abrupt stop outside. Simon had tried to poke her. Nudged her. Called her name. And nothing. Well, that didn’t leave him much choice. He wasn’t going to have her wake up alone in the car in an unfamiliar place. So, after removing the bag from over her face, he just scooped her up and tried not to jostle her too much.

But it was the way that she nuzzled her cheek into his chest, uncaring of the rough fabric of his tac vest catching her skin, that had his grip tightening a fraction. She wasn’t built like a model but she was weightless in his arms. Just because she…

Simon wasn’t sure what to do with that thought as he trudged up the house’s stairs and toward the small bedroom at the back of the hallway. The bed was small, made smaller still when he set her down. He expected her to roll away immediately, curl into the blankets, something. Instead, she let out what Simon could only describe as an angry meow and her arm flopped back toward him as he stepped back.

Again, something twisted in the dark confines of Simon’s chest. He couldn’t, wouldn’t name it.

He turned on his heel and left the room.

“Steamin’ Jesus, LT!” Johnny groused as Simon rounded the stairs. Her small bag was in his hand. “When did ye even get up here?”

“Been ‘ere the entire time, Johnny. Keep up.” He took the bag from the sergeant’s hands without asking and pivoted back to her room. He set the bag—that he definitely didn’t have to rifle through when they first retrieved it from the hotel—down in front of the small dresser near the door. She was curled around the pillow now, hugging it basically into her face as continued to sleep. And if Simon watched her chest rise and fall with the next few breaths, well, that could be his little secret.

The safehouse wasn’t awful. You’d actually describe it as charming if you weren’t abundantly aware that you were basically a government informant against your will. It was two levels with three bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs, the eat-in kitchen, living room, office, washroom, and primary suite below. The appliances and decor were dated but again…charming. You weren’t dumb enough to walk into the office that Price had claimed. They had started setting up a hub of sorts with a satellite laptop, an assortment of phones, and a large array of weapons stored along the back wall. Not that you were cataloging everything in the house that you could use to make an escape. You weren’t that stupid.

God. You really needed to work on being more positive.

The sun was still rising by the time you’d found your bearings in the house and you took a chance to slip out the back door, hinges groaning in protest, and found a small stone patio leading out to a long stretch of tall, wild grass abutting a thick forest. A pair of rusty lawn chairs were positioned around a cold fire pit and you settled into one, content, for now, to not be in the way of everything going on inside. This was better.

Positive. Think positive. You wouldn’t have shitty paychecks anymore or have to deal with Doctor Brookes breathing down your neck and making you uncomfortable whenever he ‘surprised’ you down in the archives. You could finally pick up pilates. Maybe.

The wind whistled through the trees and rustled the grass. It was quiet here. You often fell asleep to the quiet scream of the city back in Chicago and London had been little different for the few days you’d managed to have before shit hit the fan. You’d always gone from one city to the next. You were sure you would miss the buzz of it soon, but for now? For now, this was nice.

You shut your eyes as another gust of wind brushed your face and you pulled in a reedy breath, trying to remember the techniques your therapist had taught you. Years ago. You probably should call her again after all this. Maybe. (You probably wouldn’t but it was a nice thought.)

There was a noise on the other side of the door, it could have been an argument, but you didn’t open your eyes or turn back toward the house. Wasn’t your problem. The less you heard, the better. Hearing things you weren’t supposed to was how you got into this mess in the first place.

Your head fell back against the chair as the sun finally started to peek out from behind the ever present clouds and you tried to angle your face to let the warmth wash over you. The crick in your neck from the flat hospital pillow was gone. The pillow on the little bed upstairs was comfortable. And no, you were not thinking about how someone must’ve carried you up to that tiny bedroom. And no, you weren’t hoping it was Ghost. He had been quiet and warm beside you during the drive to wherever-the-fuck-you-are and he’d been…nice. Sort of. They all had been. A little cold. A little guarded. Not that you could blame them. You were probably the same or worse in their eyes. And that was another reason you were out here, out of their way.

“-she?”

Your face scrunched as you caught the last bit of a question asked on the other side of the door. Were they talking about you? There was an answering rumble and then a, “fan out! Couldn’t’ve gone far.”

What on earth…? Whatever. Not your problem. You kept your face angled toward the sun and-

The door behind opened with a screech, banging against the stone wall and you hurried to your feet, turning with your heart in your throat to see Soap standing on the patio, chest heaving. His bright blue eyes trained on you. “What were ye doin’ out here, lass?”

“Sitting.” Out of habit, you pointed unhelpfully at the chair.

He glanced down at the chair, too, frowning, before turning and hollering into the house. “Found ‘er!” Soap waved you back inside and herded you into one of the chairs around the small dining room table and stood at your back as the others filtered in. Ghost was the last to come in, dark eyes unmoving from your face as he moved to lean against the far wall, a mass of black fabric against the cream colored plaster. Soap explained that you had gone outside. “Didnae look like she was running.” He even patted your uninjured shoulder like you were a kid. Wonderful.

“I told you I was sitting. I thought it would be better for everyone if I wasn’t, you know, bothering anyone.”

“How did you get outside?” Price asked.

“Door was open.”

Stupid.

The noise came from Ghost again and you still weren’t entirely sure if he was laughing. And perhaps the ridiculousness of the situation was making you bold, but you opened your mouth again. “Am I not supposed to go outside?”

“We just weren’t sure if you were pulling a runner,” Gaz supplied, helpfully.

They didn’t trust you. Still didn’t trust you. Great. And you really should’ve known that. You didn’t even know their names. Or what Ghost looked like under his masks. “I just…” The words were stiff on the back of your tongue. “I didn’t want to be in the way.” You’d also been kept in a tiny room for the last handful of days and the sun let you feel like a human again. But that felt like oversharing.

Price looked at you, his blue eyes a different shade than Soap’s but no less alarming. “You’re not in the way. You’re a target.” He paused and you tried to brace to be told to stay in your room or- “We’re here to help you. You help us, we help you, yeah? You kept my men alive and we’d like to return the favor.”

And to your abject horror, the simple statement had tears stinging your eyes. He sounded sincere and you were always so used to people saying stuff like that only to get what they wanted out of you. But this… “Right.” The single syllable warbled. God, this was embarrassing.

Ghost knew her routine.

It had been two weeks since they’d arrived at the safe house and she’d been a shadow for most of it. He wasn’t entirely sure why but she’d taken it upon herself to have coffee made first thing in the morning, waiting for them in the kitchen alongside a kettle ready to be warmed for tea. It was usually sitting beside a mountain of pancakes or waffles or some other sweet pastry. Today, she’d made fresh bread and set it beside the carafe with butter and jam.

She was never around to have breakfast with them. Or lunch. Or supper. She was a shadow when she was inside. She also seemed to be a reader, if the stack of books that had disappeared from the living room and reappeared on her bedside table was any indication (the phone and tablet they’d nicked from her bags back in London were also stuffed full of books). And he’d watched her take a book outside to read in the back garden whenever Price said it was allowed. She was also attempting a new workout regimen that Kyle said was supposed to be pilates but “it doesn’t look like she has the patience for it.” But Simon didn’t mind watching her stretch.

“Lass makes good breakfast,” Johnny said around a mouthful of buttery toast.

Simon grunted his agreement and grabbed another slice, smearing the raspberry jam across the top. On instinct, his eyes tracked to the stairwell, willing her to arrive. She never did. The only time she appeared was when Price called for her, wanting her to review what she’d overheard in the tunnels before one of Laswell’s other contacts went out to investigate and destroy anything they could. It chafed at all of their nerves, knowing they needed to stay put for now, laying low to throw Makarov off their own scent.

Simon hated that phrase, too. For now.

But Johnny was alive. Their team was safe. His teammates’ families were being looked after, just as a precaution. And they had at least some sort of intel on Makarov. He tried to focus on that.

And not on the curve of her lip or how he could smell her perfume on his clothes long after he had left her in that small bedroom upstairs. And not how he could hear her sigh through the night, thinking everyone else had gone to sleep.

Simon kept eating, devouring half the loaf she’d left before he noticed. Kyle gave him a tired glare over his own plate and took two more slices before Simon could stop him. And then Johnny did, too. And Price watched it all from over the edge of his tea before sighing and getting up. He disappeared into the kitchen for a moment before returning with another loaf of bread. “I guess she knew you lot would be hungry.”

Simon ignored how something twisted in his chest. Again.

It was better to just take another bite and think of what Farah and Alex should be reporting to Laswell soon, if all went to plan.

Price had said they wanted to keep you alive, a thank you for saving Soap. And they were kind to you, now that the initial rigidity had somewhat subsided. Gaz always checked on you throughout the day, made sure you took your medications with his megawatt smile and a joke or two. Soap could talk your ear off about anything and everything and you could almost understand his accent all the time now as you slowly made your way through your physical therapy requirements alongside him. And Price was usually all business with you when you needed to verify this or that, but he always thanked you and never minded when you asked for more books to read or food to be delivered so you could make more breakfast (which was all you could do, really. They were keeping you safe and you didn’t really have any skills to reciprocate except your weird ability to make a good breakfast so you offered it to them every morning before they woke up and skittered out of the way like a feral cat). And then there was Ghost. Who watched. He just watched and seemed to disappear whenever you had to blink. But he was just there. With his mask, cloth that reached just beneath his dark eyes and painted with a skull’s jaw (at least it wasn’t the one that looked like he’d sewn a piece of an actual skull onto some fabric), and that noise he made that you still couldn’t figure out if it was a laugh or not. He had helped you with your stitches, which was a kindness he didn’t need to extend to you but he did anyway.

And you hated that you sometimes thought about the weight of his hand on your back whenever you couldn’t sleep at night. The closest thing to an actual conversation you’d had with Ghost was when he’d snuck up on you (intentionally or not) when you were reading out in the infrequent sunshine and your embarrassment about being caught off guard manifested, as it often did, with you sticking your foot straight into your mouth. “So, do you have to special order all your skeleton stuff or do you hit up a hobby shop whenever you need it?” Ghost didn’t dignify that with a response other than that damn sound again.

And it didn’t really matter because you still needed to get back to Kirby. Her due date was barreling toward you and you were slowly trying to work up the courage to just ask if you could go see her. You had a speech planned out and you hoped that the breakfasts had at least softened them to you. The four men seemed to be at ease in the house, like things had been going their way in regards to the Makarov situation.

And Soap had said that he would talk to someone about you wanting to leave. You had to trust him in that regard. He didn’t seem the type to lie about that.

As you gnawed on the side of your thumb, making your way through another book, you heard the heavy steps of one of the men downstairs. They weren’t usually loud but men of that size didn’t move without a sound…most of the time.

Except for Ghost.

He was unnervingly quiet. Or would be, if it were anyone else. You found yourself wondering why you didn’t seem to mind when he appeared out of seemingly nowhere, like a wraith or…well, a ghost. Stupid. But the name did seem to fit.

You turned another page just as something thumped downstairs. And you knew you shouldn’t pry. It wasn’t your place and overhearing things was the reason you didn’t have a job, weren’t back in the States with your sister, and currently holed up in a safe house with men whose names you didn’t know. But when a second thump came and it was quickly followed by a grunt, you set your book aside and walked to your door, chanting that you knew this was stupid under your breath.

“Are they safe?” came Soap’s voice. Biting. Barely restrained. You’d never heard him like that before.

“They’re safe.” Laswell’s voice crackled over a speaker—probably the laptop Price was always glued to.

Peeking around the corner when you reached the ground floor, you saw Soap nod before turning quickly, dragging stiff fingers through his mohawk. It looked like someone had swiped one of the shelves clear of its contents, spilling books and baubles across the floor. That was probably what you had heard.

“They’re all safe, boys. I made sure of it myself.” She was using that same tone she used with you when you woke up on base. Placating. Cool confidence. It scratched at something in the recesses of your brain, pinging warning bells that something was very, very wrong. More than a mission. More than a brother-in-arms out in the field.

“What about-”

“All of them. I personally saw to it.”

There was another stretched silence and you took the chance to inch closer to the office. Well. You tried to inch closer before a hand clamped over your arm and you were tugged back into the stairwell. Ghost stared down at you, unblinking.

“I heard something,” you whispered, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could think of a better—less suspicious—explanation as to why you’d been creeping in the shadows.

Ghost didn’t say anything.

“Is…” You licked your lips as your heart gave an uncomfortable lurch behind your ribs. “Is everything okay?”

“Listenin’ like that ain’t a good look.”

Something hot and angry slithered down your spine. Did he really expect you to just stay upstairs and only come down when called like a dog? You’d had enough of that. “I’m not doing anything wrong. I heard a noise.”

“And ‘id in the shadows.”

You could feel the sneer starting to curl your mouth. “I’m sorry, did I take your hiding spot?”

And then he made that fucking noise again. That sharp breath. “Heh.”

“Are you laughing at me?”

And then he did it again. “‘course I am.”

Really, you should have been absolutely pissed. And you were. But that snarl started to twist and push and you found yourself fighting a smile because his laugh was ridiculous. A man that large should not be allowed to laugh like that. “Whatever.”

His grip on your arm tightened a fraction, thumb pressing into the delicate crease of your elbow, before he tugged you back toward the office. You halfheartedly tried to ignore how his fingers trailed against your arm when he dropped his hold. And it didn’t seem like he did it on purpose because he was busy talking to Soap about something—you heard the word sitrep and you weren’t about to ask what that meant.

Not when you realized you were staring at the remnants of a destroyed home. Pictures upon pictures filled the small screen of the laptop and your stomach sank the more you looked. That was someone’s home. A couch was gutted and overturned. A stereo was broken into pieces. And frames were smashed. It was one of the last pictures that had your veins turning to ice. It was a picture of Soap, surrounded by women who could only be his family, bright, shining smiles behind shattered glass.

That was Soap’s family home.

And you were sure Gaz, Price and Ghost all had families, too. There were pieces of their lives scattered on that small screen. They had been targeted. Or at least their houses had been.

Gaz was the first one to catch your eye and he gave you a tight smile. “Didn’t think you would want to see this, love.”

“I…” The words you could have said dried on your tongue. What could you say to someone who just learned that their family was in danger? “Is there anything I can do?”

Simon watched her retreat back up the stairs. It had been kind, he supposed, for her to offer her help. She couldn’t do anything. Nothing that she hadn’t already done. But he saw the flash of concern in her eyes before it disappeared again as she nodded, quietly leaving the office when told to do so.

“Has there been any movement against her sister?” Kyle asked but Simon saw his eyes dart to the picture of his dad’s overturned office.

“We have her monitored, but I don’t think Makarov knows of her either. She isn’t on any sort of official documentation we can find.”

“Shouldn’t there be birth certificates? Where’s their mum?” Price asked.

Things weren’t adding up. There were holes in all of this. Simon crossed his arms as he let the others talk.

“Her mother’s dead. Dead for decades. And before you ask, Kirby has a different mother. Only Kirby has a father listed.”

“Same father, then?”

“A possibility. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s dead, too.” Laswell sighed, crackling the line.

Simon’s eyes dragged across the destruction Makarov had brought across his teammates’ families’ homes. His stomach churned, just for a moment, remembering a different home, a different family, with no one there to shuttle them off to a safer haven.

Just as quickly as the thought came, it left. Just as it always did. And the scent of her perfume lingered and how she looked more sad than scared when she saw the pictures.

You hadn’t really known what you could do when you asked if there was anything you could do so it only stung a little when you were dismissed. After sneaking a bit of dinner from the kitchen, trying to not listen to anything still coming from the office, you readied for bed and managed to fall into a dreamless sleep after finishing your book.

Brief, bright light had your eyes snapping open. You waited for a moment, your frown growing deeper, wanting to know if it would happen again. And it did, bursting through the small window for a split second.

Someone was outside.

Scraaaaape.

You frowned at the ceiling and tried to filter through the possibilities. Animals. Wind. But the scraping sound came again and it twisted at something in your gut. You were supposed to be alone out here. Isolated.

Safe.

But something was screaming at the back of your mind that this wasn’t right.

The noise came again and you slid off the bed as your heart inched its way up your throat. Something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. On quiet feet, you moved toward the window, trying to keep your back pressed to the wall, hidden in shadows. And then you heard the scrape again. And then a rhythmic thudding across the dead grass.

Something glinted, catching the moonlight. And your heart nearly stopped before beating a painful staccato against your ribs. Guns. Men with guns. Men with guns were surrounding the house, sliding out of the trees behind the house and slinking closer. One of them held a flashlight—that had been the light.

“Fuck.” You turned and tried to find something, anything that could be used as a weapon. The only thing that you thought could work was the lamp, heavy enough to cause some damage but only once. It was better than nothing. You slid back toward it and-

The room tilted as a tight grip dug into the back of your neck and hauled you backward. Before you could scream, another hand clamped over your throat. Your next breath wheezed out from between your teeth and you blindly tried to pry the thick fingers from around your windpipe but only served to have the grip on your neck tighten. “There you are, little brat.”

The accent was harsh and flashes of your time in the tunnels sped through your mind. They were back. Makarov’s men.

“Now, tell us what-”

“I know nothing,” was your wheezed reply. It was a knee jerk reaction and not a complete lie but that hardly mattered with your heart beating wildly behind your ribs.

But the grip on your throat tightened a fraction more. “You’ve been living with them for weeks. You know nothing? Useless American,” the man sneered, spittle splashing against your cheek.

Your therapist had once said you were impulsive. And she might have mentioned trauma and the need for continued meetings but that didn’t stop your tongue from lashing. “You call me useless?” Black dots were lining the edges of your vision. “I wouldn’t tell you a-anything even if I did know. Go fuck yourself!” The last word was garbled on your leaden tongue as the grip on your throat tightened and completely cut off your airway.

“What did you tell them, then, hm?” More spit landed your face. He grumbled something in Russian your addled brain couldn’t comprehend and the black edging in on your vision grew darker, lungs burning with each empty pull you tried to take. Your nails dug into the man’s hands around your throat but his grip didn’t falter. Even as your vision tunneled, you knew you had to do something.

Anything.

Kirby was waiting for you. Blindly, you thrust a hand out and the tips of your fingers slipped across the lamp’s shade. You thrashed against the man’s grip and you might have heard him laugh but you still tried again until your hand closed around the flimsy shade and you yanked it up and backward with a croaked shout. It cracked in your grasp but it made contact, raining shards of porcelain against the side of your face.

Your next breath burned as the vice of his hands opened. You didn’t waste a moment and yanked yourself away from him, only managing to collapse onto the bed on your belly as your knees knocked together. A slew of curses punched out of his mouth and you turned to see blood pouring from a large cut above his eye.

Good.

He wiped at his face, smearing blood across his cheeks, before lunging for you.

You threw yourself off the other side of the bed, legs slamming against the floor but he did not follow. You stood and turned, ready to-

-a hand pressed over your mouth and stifled the scream you felt blooming behind your teeth. “Quiet,” Ghost whispered.

It was then you noticed the man, unmoving on the floor. A knife embedded in his left eye.

You nodded, the fabric of Ghost’s gloves scratching your lips. He was here. He was with you. It snapped and fizzled at something in your belly but was quickly snuffed out by the quick pop-pop-pop of gunfire downstairs. Ghost didn’t flinch at all—not that you expected him to. Instead, he dropped his hold on you and grabbed one of your hands, moving to thread your fingers through the belt loop on his side, a silent command you followed readily. He pulled a gun from its holster and turned, quietly tugging you along as he moved out into the hallway.

The sound of more gunfire battered your ears as Ghost led you down the short hallway and down the stairs. You didn’t say anything as you stepped over one, two, three bodies on your way down. Ghost was a solid mass in front of you, unwavering and his gun ready. Before you could blink, he moved, shoving you to the side and you tightened your grip on his belt loop as he fired off two rounds right where you were about to step.

The next body hit the floor without any fanfare and he continued to tug you along. The house wasn’t big—you knew this—but it felt massive as he continued to lead you toward the front door. As you stepped out into the living room, both Gaz and Soap emerged from the shadows, guns drawn and tac vests thrown over their shirts. They flanked you as Ghost continued to lead you out onto the front yard where the SUV rumbled, Price behind the wheel.

A quick flash of light caught your eye and you saw the left side of the house catch fire–quickly. And then the world tilted on its axis, sliding beneath your feet—oh wait, no. Ghost had just grabbed your shirt and wrapped an arm around your waist and threw you into the car. No one screamed at Price to “move move move” like they did in the movies but Ghost hauled himself in behind you and immediately grabbed the back of your neck and shoved you down toward the floorboards. “Keep down,” he said, voice just a touch above his usual drawl. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, the grip on your neck smarting. You’d probably be bruised before the sun came up. You did chance a look up as the car rocked side to side, racing through the field and over the hidden bumps and rocks. Gaz and Soap had guns trained on the back window as Ghost kept his hand anchored on the back of your neck. But you shivered when his thumb brushed against your hammering pulse.

He must have felt it because he did it again.

What a way to end the night.

Next Chapter

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think! I'm not going to lie, getting less than 1/3 of part one's notes on part two bummed me out. I'm considering only posting this on ao3 as I seem to get at least a little more engagement there. Let me know what you think! Because, yes, while I write for me, it is shared with you guys and I'd like to know if you're enjoying it.

[binniesbooks]

• DO FRIENDS KNOW HOW YOU TASTE?

YJ 999 .F25 2024

wc 3.8k

pairings bff!Yeonjun x cheater!reader (little bit of bf!Soobin x reader)

warnings explicit cheating, slight choking, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, public fingering, creampie (+ if I forgot anything)

faye's note This is a product of my very own extreme Yeonjun brain rot as a Soobrangdan! Help! I kept on saying I'd cheat on Soobin with Yeonjun, BUT FOR FUCK'S SAKE, DO NOT DARE CHEAT IF YOU'RE IN A RELATIONSHIP. WE DO NOT TOLERATE CHEATING! 🚫 PLUS IF YOU HAVE FRIENDS , DO NOT GO OVERBOARD, UNLESS YOU TWO ARE DATING, GOODNESS! that's all, thank you cheaters 😂 (it's supposed to be a joke, cheater!reader 😭)

You and Soobin started dating not too long ago. You two met at the library, he had helped you out, reaching for a book that was too high for your reach. You two instantly clicked. After hanging out with him from time to time, you realized you had started to catch feelings.

On study days, you would be with him at the library. Coffee dates, picnics. You know the common ways of falling in love.

You love Soobin. You really do. He knows it. Everyone around you knows it. Even your friend -- Yeonjun.

Yeonjun has been your friend since high school. You met him way before meeting Soobin, obviously. And of course, Yeonjun was not an ordinary friend. He liked being close to you. He liked holding you. Sometimes you choose not to be with them at the same time because Yeonjun would practically hog you to himself.

But Soobin never said a thing. He keeps in mind, that you knew Yeonjun better than him. You met Yeonjun way before you dated him. He also promised himself not to get in your way. He didn't want to hurt the girl he loved most. That's how much Soobin loves you. Pure. Innocent. Modest.

He never allowed anything to develop between the two of you beyond a bit of physical contact. He preferred to handle things on his own rather than do anything he thought you might disapprove of. He was satisfied with just a kiss on the forehead or even a kiss on the cheek. Sometimes he would give kisses on the hand, but rarely on your lips. A few hugs would suffice.

He believes that you are still too innocent to take your relationship to the next level.

But of course, Soobin couldn't stay silent throughout his life. He felt the need to speak up too. "Y/n," Soobin holds your hand, brushing his thumb on top of your hand. "I know Yeonjun holds a special space in your heart." He was staring at you, eyes full of guilt and sadness. "But I'm feeling a little bit jealous. I'm sorry, I can't help it," Soobin confessed when the three of you were at a cafe.

Yeonjun was the one ordering. And that gave Soobin the chance to tell you what he felt."I'm sorry, Binnie. Don't get me wrong, okay? He's just a dear friend of mine. I have no one else besides you and him." Soobin leans into your hand as you cup his face, sighing as he closes his eyes.

However, the silence between you two broke when Yeonjun cleared his throat. He placed the tray on the table as he flopped down beside you, casually draping his arm around your shoulder.

Soobin averted his gaze. Quietly reaching for his drink. Sometimes he thinks he's not your boyfriend anymore, despite telling himself not to say a thing about this issue.

"Soobin, have you already reviewed for our exam tomorrow?" Yeonjun asked, acting as oblivious as ever.

"Well, yeah... I kinda browsed through it last night."

Yeonjun ran both of his hands on his face and said, "I did too. But it's math. And it's making me frustrated.”

"We can just share the table amongst the three of us tomorrow," you chimed, knowing well that the other two couldn't excel in math like you. Both of the males nodded at your suggestion.

The three of you ended up sharing one table on your test. Your teacher didn't pay much attention to the seating position, so it gave you the chance to change seats. Plus, he didn't check on his students while the test was happening, allowing the two males to peek openly at your paper.

Saturday came, and you got a call from Soobin, asking if you were free today and if you were down for a date.

"Y/n, are you busy? Do you wanna go with me to the amusement park that just opened?" he asked."Sure, Bin! I'm down! Let me just get ready!" You really wanted to make it up to him. "Okay, I'll pick you up. I love you."

"I love you too, Soobin."

Soobin never raises his voice toward you. He's so soft-spoken and gentle. You almost couldn't find a flaw in him.

Soobin came shortly, in his usual tee and jeans. A bright, dimpled smile flashed across his face when he saw you.

"Let's go?"

"Let's go!"

You enjoyed the date with him. In fact, you really love going out with him because he knows what to do, gets everything planned, and is always prepared for a plan B. You love Soobin. You love your boyfriend. So why, of all people, are you kissing Yeonjun at your front door?

"I'm glad you enjoyed our date. I'm really sorry for being jealous y/n. I promise not to say unnecessary things about your friendship with him." You were in Soobin's embrace the whole time while he was saying all of these.

"No, Binnie, I should be the one saying sorry," you admitted. Soobin only shook his head, "No, it's all good. Maybe I wasn't in my right mind at that time. I should've known better."

"Plus, I know you love me. You love me, right?" he added.

"Of course, you silly boy. I love you!" You pinched his cheeks and planted soft kisses on them. You stepped back a bit, cupped his face, and gave him a soft kiss on his lips. Soobin was stunned.

"Just one!" You giggled as his eyes grew wider. "Now go, you don't have to escort me all the way upstairs. It's getting late now."

Soobin nods, mind-hazy, and walks away like he was a hypnotized man. You chuckled at him before you marched upstairs to your unit.

You froze when you saw Yeonjun sitting beside your door. He stood up when he saw you, smiling from ear to ear, his eyes droopy.

"Were you out?" He asked when you approached him.

"I was. Why are you here, Jjunie--Holy cow! You're drunk!" You exclaimed when you stepped closer to him, the smell of liquor shooting through your nostrils.

"Just a few shots, not that much," his voice slurred. "Missed you so bad, baby..." he whispered, holding your face. "L-let's go inside, people will see--" You were cut off when his soft and trembling lips pressed onto yours as he pushed your back against the wall.

He pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours. “I fucking missed you so much, pretty," Yeonjun whispered again before diving in for another kiss, biting down on your lower lip. Slotting his thigh between your legs. He pulled away again, rubbing his thigh on your clothed cunt, the tiny dress allowing him to move his thigh freely.

"Y-yeonjun..." you whimpered as you looked up at him. "I-inside... Let's go inside... B-bedroom..." Yeonjun snatched the key from your hand as he rushed to open the door of your unit, shutting it closed once he pulled you inside.

He pushed you against the door once more, kissing you down to your neck.

"A-are you in a rush, Jjunie?" You chuckled, tangling your fingers on his black locks. Yeonjun pants and shakes his head. "It's just that. I miss how you taste... It's been a week..."

"So eager, love. So eager, I like that." You smiled at him. "Let me wash up first," you added as you kissed his nose. He then pulled away and hugged you as you wobbled your way to the restroom because of his weight.

Just as you bent down to the sink, about to wash your face, Yeonjun lifted the hem of your dress, pressing his hard-on on your ass as he held your face to make you stare at you and his image reflecting in the mirror, his other hand resting on your waist.

He slowly grinds on you, biting his lip, and stares at you, looking into your eyes through the mirror. You propped both your hands on the sink to keep your balance, letting Yeonjun rut in you.

Yeonjun stopped, gently massaging your waist. "Have you two kissed?" he asked. You slightly nod your head and say, "J-just a peck." Yeonjun's face darkened, and his hand that once held your face moved down to your neck, giving it a little squeeze. "I'm still your favorite friend, right?"

"Y-you will always be, Jjunie."

"Now, move," he commanded, tightening his hand on your neck. You gasped for air, as you slowly rubbed your ass on him. Yeonjun removes your panties, pulling them down to your thighs.

He slid his cock out of his boxers as he rubbed it on your wet folds.

"Poor Soobin. So oblivious to what's going on," Yeonjun smirked as he slowly pushed inside of you.

You felt the familiar stretch down there, causing you to falter and chant his name. Both of his hands are gripping your waist.

"You know my name very well, don't you? Given that I'm just your dear friend," Yeonjun started thrusting, as he picked up his pace. "How come you're still so tight for -fuck,- for me?" he added.

"T-too big, Jjunie! Ahh!" You felt yourself lose your remaining strength. So you had no choice but to lean your forehead against the sink.

"Shit, I'm close, baby, fuck!" His movement stuttered for a while before he stilled inside you. Then he moves again to let you cum.

Your whole body was trembling, and your legs wobbled when he pulled out. "Fuck, I came so much; will you be okay?" Yeonjun pulled you to face him, cupping your face. "I'm f-fine, Jjunie. T-thank you so much." You bit your lower lip, nodding your head as he hugs you.

You can still feel his cum dribbling down your thighs. “Let’s get you cleaned up." Yeonjun planted a soft kiss on your forehead before he lifted you up, carrying you to the tub.

"I'll go get your clothes; you start washing up."

You found yourself cozy in Yeonjun's arms once again on that cool night. You two were tucked in your bed as Yeonjun ran his fingers through your hair. You felt drowsy, surrendering your body to Yeonjun's embrace as you fell asleep.

When you woke up the next day, Yeonjun had already left your place. Maybe he did at dawn; he always does this; but you were used to it.

And the cycle went on. You and Soobin go out for a date, and Yeonjun waits for you at your front door -- may or may not be drunk. Something happens between you two; he leaves at dawn. Soobin was still as oblivious as ever. Yeonjun enjoys it. He knows you'll keep him around, cheat on Soobin over and over again, and let him fuck you no matter what day it is.

It's been a few months since this type of setup started, not to mention the fact that even before you met Soobin, your friend, Yeonjun, has been doing things with you.

"Y/n, it's my birthday tomorrow; can you do this friend a favor?" You could see his smug look over the phone call. "Do you mind joining me at my birthday party at the club? I know you don't wanna go to those kinds of places, but could you please reconsider?" He decided to invite you to a club, no, persuade you to join him.

You had no other choice. Since he rarely asks for requests, you complied. "Fine, fine, I'll go with you. Just this once, okay?" His chuckle resonates as he replies with a hum.

You asked for permission from Soobin to go, and of course, as your loving and considerate boyfriend, he gave you permission. "Only if you let me pick you up after," Soobin said over the phone.

"I'm fine Bin sweetie. It's not far from here. I can take care of myself," you assured him. He sighed in defeat, "Call me if anything happens."

"To the corner." Yeonjun was holding your waist, admiring how the dress you wore hugged your every curve.

"It's too dark," you groaned as you plopped on the corner couch.

The place was not too big but could accommodate at least a hundred people. "I'm gonna go blind before we get out of here, Jjun," you complained, the blinking colored lights making you dizzy and making you squint your eyes.

A bucket of beer was placed on the table in front of you, along with some expensive-looking bottles of liquor. You pour some into the glass, which you guessed was whiskey. Yeonjun was intently watching your moves. You handed him the glass. "Happy birthday, Jjun." You smiled at him.

A smirk was plastered on his face as he got the glass from you, swirling the liquid inside the glass.

The clubbing went well, to your surprise. Yeonjun was quiet most of the time. Aside from his constant compliments, nothing came out of his mouth.

"You're drunk. Let's get you home." Yeonjun sighed as he stood, trying to pull you. "It's y-your birthday Jjun! L-let's get wasted!" You slurred back.

He groaned as he ran his hands against his face. "You're borderline wasted, baby; get up." You shook your head until someone approached you.

"Hey! Y/n! Is that you?" The girl called out to you. You rubbed your eyes as you stared at the girl in front of you.

"It's me, Ria, Soobin's cousin. Remember?" Yeonjun's gaze shifted from you and the girl who approached you.

"Ah! I remember now!" You exclaimed.

"Where's Soobin? And who's this guy you're with?" She asked.

"A close friend of mine, it's his birthday; we're just celebrating." You tried your very best to speak straight, and it's safe to say you did succeed.

"Happy birthday," she glanced at Yeonjun, to which Yeonjun replied with a small smile, "I'm gonna call Soobin to pick you up, okay? It's getting late; it's not safe outside."

"I'm fine; you don't have to. Besides, I'm with my friend."

"Friend..." You can tell her eyes were judging Yeonjun at this point. From the way, Yeonjun was holding your hand.

"He's really just a friend; you don't have to worry. Besides, I even asked Soobin for permission and they even know each other too." Ria nodded, sighing as she got up and bid goodbye. Even though her phone was already pressed against her ear.

"Friends...Do friends know how you taste?" Yeonjun chimed as he sat beside you once again, his face resting on his palm above the table.

"Y-yeonjun, keep your mouth shut..."Yeonjun gently slid his hand onto your thighs, down to your core.

"Jun... J-junnie, not h-here... Ahh.." his fingers traced your clothed fold.

"You saying something? Can't hear you; it's too loud in here," he asked as if he was not doing something...his fingers slowly thrusting inside your cunt.

He pushed his two digits inside, pushing and pressing. You held on to his arm tightly. Whimpers and whines are escaping your mouth.

"More?" Yeonjun taunts, "you need more?" You nod frantically as you watch his lips curl up to a smirk.

A few more minutes of his languid strokes, and you can feel yourself nearing your high.

Your eyes widened when you saw Soobin from the entrance door, his tall figure letting you know he was there.

"Y-yeonjun, your hand. H-he's here... S-soobin is here... ohh...please.. shit... M-more..." You clutched on his dress shirt, moving your hips unconsciously, begging for more, even though you could see Soobin looking for you.

"Please, baby, I need you... I need you so much..." You whimpered with a shaky voice.

A sly smirk played on Yeonjun's face. "What should we do then? Your boyfriend's here already. You need to go home." He chuckled at your trembling and drooling figure as you kept on moving your hips.

"Where is she?" Soobin asked her cousin, Ria.

"At the corner table, she's with someone whom she says is a friend." Soobin nodded as he headed towards the table at the corner, Ria following along.

"What the... I swear they were just here." Ria was confused, you were nowhere to be found. Soobin tried calling you. After six times, someone picked up the call.

"She's with me. Don't worry, she's fine. I'll take care of her." The voice over the line was Yeonjun. Soobin didn't know if he should be angry, jealous, or thankful. Nevertheless, he trusted you, and hence he just headed home. At least he knew you were safe.

Yeonjun threw the phone in the backseat of his car. "Fuck, at least wait till we are home, baby... Shit ahh!" He gripped tightly on the steering wheel as he bucked his hips up, hitting your throat.

"Wait til we're home, and you're done for, you-- fuck!" His lips are red and swollen from the biting as you bob your head on his cock.

Lucky for him, the traffic wasn't that bad. He decided to head to his place instead of yours. He was thinking Soobin might come to your place. Just to be safe. Besides, Soobin didn't know where he lived.

If there was a competition about holding back, Yeonjun could've won. He managed not to cum inside your mouth. He wanted you in his bed, not in the car. You were too pretty for public sex.

His front door burst open as he dragged you upstairs. His steps were heavy and rushed.

Without further ado, he quickly got rid of your flimsy dress, pushing you onto the bed. He did not waste any time, slipping out of his clothes, eyes full of lust. the moment he saw you lying on the bed.

The bed dipped under his weight. "How come you're so shy now, hm?" He taunts. "Show me your daring side; you just sucked me off in my car, and now you're covering your pretty little face?" Yeonjun chuckled as he pried your hands off your face.

"I hate to say this, but you're acting like a slut. My bratty slut." You whimpered at his words. You're not used to him calling you names, yet it stirred something in you.

Yeonjun hovers above you as he plays with your nipple, watching you squirm.

"My, my. Look at you. What a good, beautiful slut. A cheater, indeed." You might tear his sheets by how tightly you were clutching them."Y-yeon... J-junnie..." Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when his tongue swirled on your nipples.

He started planting wet and open-mouthed kisses on your chest. Leaving splotchy red marks in the process. Then his lips claimed yours in a searing kiss. But it wasn't aggressive; instead, it was a passionate one. A kiss that clearly says he doesn't only want you, but he also loves you dearly.

"I love you... I love you y/n. I can't do this anymore; I can't watch you with Soobin anymore. Please, I want you to myself."

You never thought that Yeonjun actually liked you to this extent. You thought it was just a normal thing to be friends with benefits.

"S-should I break up with him?" You asked as you held his face closer to you. "Do you promise to take care of me just like how we are now?" Yeonjun nodded, kissing your forehead.

You were caught off guard when he rubbed his tip on your wet cunt. "Stay away from him; you're mine. You were mine from the start." As he kept on teasing you with his cock.

"G-give it to me, Jjun, please... Ohhh.." You were moving your hips with him, hugging him, wanting him closer to your body.

The stretch was familiar. It felt so good that you pulled his hair unconsciously.

"P-please keep pulling my hair, fuck, I love it. Holy shit." Yeonjun was into hair-pulling? You smiled; you never knew this side of him. He started thrusting, his warm flesh dragging over your mushy walls.

"D-did Soobin g-get to feel you like this?" his voice shaky as he slowly pulls out and slams back into you. Eliciting a yelp and a moan from you.

"N-no! Only y-you... O-only you, Jjunie..." His grin grew wider after knowing Soobin didn't even have the chance to split you and see this side of you.

"You're a bad girl y/n, you know that?" He played with your clit as he stopped thrusting for a while. You shook your head in disagreement. "I-i'm a good g-girl!"

"Do good girls cheat? Hm?" You bit your lip as you melted into his gaze. "Greedy too. You have a boyfriend, yet you're fucking your best friend. Such a whore."

"Yeonjun..." you whined, tears escaping your pretty eyes.

"Why are you crying, my pretty whore? Am I not making you feel good?" He pulled out fully, teasing his tip once again on your folds.

"P-please say i-i'm a good g-girl.." You pleaded, tears still flowing from your eyes. "You're my good little whore, baby. You're not bad for cheating on Soobin with me, you deserve this good cock." He cooed at you with a wide grin, slamming back again inside you.

"Now be my good baby and pull on my hair again, will you?"

You tangled your fingers through his dark locks, pulling them every time he thrusts inside. He can't let you see his red cheeks, deciding to hide into your neck the entire time, busying himself with planting hickeys on your porcelain smooth skin. His thrusts were so strong that you came two times in a row already.

"It feels so fucking good... Shit." He couldn't stop telling you how amazing he felt every time you pulled on his hair. "It feels too good; I think I'm gonna cum," he groaned on your neck, his thrusts growing sloppy.

You nodded frantically, wanting him to cum inside you again and again. Filling you up to the brim. To let his cum overflow inside your pussy.

It only took him a few more thrusts before he spilled inside, painting your walls white. His cock pulsated inside your cum-filled pussy. He pulled out gently, not wanting to spill his cum, pushing his cum more inside of you with his two fingers. You felt so sensitive that you started to whimper underneath him.

"I hope you don't forget what you've said, because you're drunk," he sighed as he lay beside you, pulling you into a hug. Your arms reached over his waist, hugging him back. "I won't. I'm already sober."

"Don't joke around. I almost dragged you out of the club because you seemed borderline drunk, baby." He pouted. "I swear, I'm sober, Yeonjun. I started being sober when your cock reached my throat earlier." You chuckled, giving his chest a few kisses. A blush crept up his cheeks as he buried his face on the top of your head.

"Just tell me when you're ready to go again, hm? I want more," he whispered. "Five minutes. Let's continue after five minutes," you chimed as you littered his neck with hickeys.

@binniesbooks 2024

[butwhyduh]

honestly jdk just tim drake x reader where one/or multiple of the batfam walks in?? i just find them entertaining, or they are continually being interrupted through the day!

Warning: eventual smut and Tim is done with everyone’s shit. If it’s not the end of the world, don’t call me- level done. And you can tell it’s fanfic because Tim is actually an adult.

Tim didn’t get into shows very often. He’s busy and he has a terrible habit of falling asleep after the first 10 minutes. He didn’t want to watch the show but he was tinkering with some of his tech while sitting on the couch and you put it on. And that’s how he got sucked in.

“And Daphne said yes to that? Drew is not good enough to lie to her friends over,” he said and you started telling him the backstory.

You binge watch the next few episodes to catch up to the new season. It was a fun and scandalous show, nothing like Tim’s usual picks. And he thought it was cute how animated you were when talking about the show.

“Trevor needs to get his shit together or not only is Naomi going to leave him, he’ll go to jail,” Tim said.

“Yeah but he owes the local crime boss money and he said he’d kill his family otherwise,” you countered.

“Sounds like Gotham,” Tim quipped. You lightly smacked his arm before laying your head on his shoulder and entangling your arm in his.

“That is not comforting,” you said. “Oo they’re going to tell us who took the diamonds!”

The bat phone started ringing almost off the coffee table. You groaned and let Tim go to sit up to answer that.

“The corner of 17 and Parkway? How many combatants?” He said in Bat speak. And that’s when you knew your date night was over. He hung up and turned to you looking apologetic.

“I have to go,” he said. You sighed but pulled him into a hug.

“Be safe. I’ll be here,” you said with practices familiarity. He kissed you before grabbing his stuff and leaving. He didn’t get back until hours later with some fresh bruises and a girlfriend asleep on the couch.

It was 2 days later that you tried to continue the show. Tim had told Bruce to call someone else first. The door was locked and his phone was on silence. You’d even given him some pretty good incentives if you were uninterrupted and alone after the show.

It was all of ten minutes into the continued episode with pho takeout on the way that the fire escape window opened. In flopped Nightwing covered in mud.

“No,” Tim groaned. You huffed before pausing the show. “Do you need help?”

“Only a bit,” Dick said as the understatement of the year. He let Tim look at him to find that he was leaking blood all over the carpet from a bullet wound in his thigh. “Only a graze. Do you have a bandaid?”

“Good lord,” you replied as Tim called Alfred. You quickly grabbed a towel to stop the bleeding.

It was a few hours later and a carpet cleaner before Nightwing and your carpet were patched up. By that time it was the middle of the night and you couldn’t concentrate on anything. Tim promised a date night another day.

This one was a whole week later. All of the Robins had been warned under pain of torture to not talk to Tim for that evening. Because Tim was to put it mildly, frustrated. You two hadn’t had alone time in over a week.

You started the show back up with all entrances locked and phones off. You were able to watch the next 15 minutes before you heard broken glass.

“Hey did you know your window was locked,” Superboy said standing in front of the window. Tim practically growled before pausing the show to shove Kon out the window.

“I don’t know what you need but the other members of Young Justice are available. Call them,” Tim said but it was already too late. The wind had blown into the room and it was starting to snow outside so he couldn’t exactly ignore the window. Once again date night was canceled.

Tim was so frustrated that he had dreams about you in his bed. It was almost a week later and now 3 episodes behind on the show that you had another date night. He was almost willing to skip the show entirely at this point just to have alone time.

Tim had practically threatened everyone he knew with death threats to leave you both alone.

“Someone is feeling the mode,” Bart joked.

“You mean, someone needs to get laid,” Kon added.

“At this point, yes! I don’t want to see, hear, or think of either of you tonight. Unless it’s the  apocalypse, then I don’t want to even know about it,” he growled. The two other heroes howled with laughter as he left.

You could tell Tim was distracted and preoccupied by the way his hand gripped and squeezed your thigh. He gave you frequent kisses between scenes. As the episode ended, Tim pounced.

“Tim!” You gasped as he pushed you to lay on the couch before the credits were even done. It turned to a moan as his hand slid between your thighs to rub you through your panties.

“It’s been way too long,” he groaned as he kissed down your throat. He was almost never this aggressive and it was dizzying. He pushed your panties to the side to finger you.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped as he hit deep inside you. His hips rubbed his hard cock against you. He pulled at your shirt with one hand.

“Take it off,” he groaned with impatience. Before you had even gotten the fabric over your head, he had attacked your chest. Pulling a nipple into his mouth and sucking hard while fingering you thoroughly had you whimpering.

You shoved down his pants to grasp him in a loose fist. Tim rutted into your hand while sloppily kissing across your chest.

“Please, want you,” you whined and he wasted no time sliding in. Your back arched with a gasp. His arm reached behind your back and Tim took his time with long deep strokes.

This pleasure cycle couldn’t last forever and you both finished far too soon. Tim kissed you softly and gently.

“We can continue this later. I think the food is here,” he said.

“Sounds good,” you said adjusting your clothes and sitting up. “I’ll be right back,” you added as you went to clean up.

Tim answered the door in his messied hair and haphazardly placed clothes. Instead of the food delivery guy, it was Jason standing with his food box. Tim frowned.

“What do you want?”

“Pizza anyone?”

“Leave,” tim growled, taking the box. Jason laughed.

“Interrupting something?” Tim almost slammed the door in his face. “Hey, I just need keys to the Robin motorbike,” Jason added. “Oh I didn’t know you watched that show. Can you believe that in last week’s episode, it was the mom all along. Wild hu?”

Tim sighed before throwing the keys at Jason. “Go away.” He slammed the door.

“Well that sucks,” you said across the room.

Tim locked the door and sat the pizza box on the table. “I’m gonna be honest, and that is that I really just want to finish what we started before pizza. I’m not picky where.”

You laughed before letting him grab you fireman style over his shoulder to drag you into the bedroom. There was no way you were answering the door after that.

[jetblack4realz]

domestic - carter wheeler

okay, everyone loved the carter fic and it's actually so fun to write for someone around my age, so we're gonna do it more!

part two to sleeping together but can be read separately

word count: 2.9k

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he wasn't lying when he said he had to wake up at the crack of dawn.

you groaned as he tried to slip out from underneath you, gently shifting you so you'd fall right where he'd been laying before as he moved to stand. you rolled to your side, eyes closed and brows furrowed as you head rested on his pillow. you reached a hand out, catching his when he moved to walk back to his room.

"hey," you mumbled, squeezing his hand. "you can't just leave."

"i've got to go to work, baby," he said in a hushed voice, crouching at the side of the couch to brush your hair out of your face. he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "i'm sorry i woke you up. i'll see you later, okay?"

you finally opened your eyes, meeting his crystal blues with a small frown. "when?"

he laughed a bit, tilting his head as he continued smiling at you. "i don't know. you just go on back to bed and come out to find me when you wake up. momma usually does that to see pops."

"pops?" you repeated with a short laugh, sitting up a bit to be at his eye level. "i never thought i'd hear rip wheeler referred to as pops."

"he actually doesn't mind it," he answered, smiling still at your sleepy form. "i've gotta get ready, hun."

"just say bye before you do," you mumbled, squeezing his hand again before flopping back onto the pillow. carter moved his blanket to cover you more fully again, kissing your forehead before standing.

"okay," he agreed quietly.

he went back to his room and you heard the door shut so he could change in privacy. you let yourself sink back into the warmth of the blankets and couch, your boyfriend's leftover heat keeping you comfortable.

you were pretty sure that you passed out in the time between him leaving and him coming back, because only two seconds after you closed your eyes he was back at your side with a clean pearl snap shirt, jeans, boots, and his hat on his head.

"you awake?" he whispered quietly, to which you hummed and nodded. it was a struggle to open your eyes again, but you managed and he laughed lightly. he lifted a hand to cup your cheek gently, thumb running over your cheekbone as he leaned down to press a short but sweet kiss to your lips. you kissed him back quickly with your hand covering his, smiling at him when he pulled away. "bye, sugar."

"bye, cowboy," you told him, hanging onto his hand until he walked far enough away that it finally slipped out of his hold. "be safe!"

the smile he shot you was so wholesome it made your heart pound as he nodded at you. "i will."

and then he was out the door and you were back to sleep, drifting off easily as you thought about your cute boyfriend.

--

when you woke up, you could hear beth in the kitchen not too far away. you laid there for a few moments before finally mustering the strength to get up and move to carter's room to change.

you pulled on the jeans you'd worn the day before and grabbed one of carter's spare button ups to throw over your tank top. you slipped your boots on, brushed through your hair quickly, and went to the bathroom to finish your morning routine.

beth was, in fact, in the kitchen when you walked in, a few pancakes on a plate with eggs and sausage. she smiled over her shoulder at you when you walked in, placing the final pancake on the plate before turning to you completely. "good morning."

"good morning, mrs wheeler," you said with a smile.

she gestured quickly to the spread behind her, nodding at you with a wide but hesitant smile. "do you want breakfast? i don't usually make it for anyone but me since the boys are out there so early."

"i'd love some breakfast," you answered, following her lead and helping yourself to all of what she'd laid out.

you didn't see the way she looked when you sat at the table in your unofficial official spot, the way her eyes followed you with a motherly softness in them as a small smile pulled at her lips, the way she watched carefully as you took your first bite of the pancakes she'd made from scratch this time - not just the add water and stir kind, and how she lit up at the same time you did when you chewed.

"mrs wheeler, these are amazing," you told her after swallowing. "what kind are they?"

"buttermilk," she answered simply, grabbing her plate and joining you in her spot.

you nodded, shoving another forkful in your mouth. "well, they're amazing, thank you."

"of course, honey," she told you. "like i said last night, you're always welcome here. and it's kind of nice having someone to eat breakfast with. it gets quiet around here when the boys are out."

"yeah, i bet it does," you hummed. "back at our place i've got three rowdy little brothers and a little sister who doesn't understand what the word no means. i've come to enjoy the quiet."

"most of the time i do. it's just sometimes i'd like some more going on. i grew up with three brothers and a million ranch hands all around. quiet is hard to get used to."

you laughed and waved your fork at her. "that i understand."

the two of you talked while you ate and then you helped her put away breakfast and finish dishes. afterwards, you bounced towards the door excitedly.

"you think mr wheeler would mind if i ran out to see carter?" you asked, glancing back at beth.

she laughed, shaking her head and moving towards you. "not if i go with to see him too."

you grinned, both of you grabbing your carhartt jackets before heading out the door and down to the stables. you saw lloyd out pushing a couple cattle out of the arena, presumably after being doctored, and you waved wildly at him to get his attention. he smiled and waved back, tipping his hat a bit as he watched you skip ahead of beth to where rip and carter were just getting on their horses to head back out again.

"hey!" beth called to rip from behind you. the man looked up and stopped stepping into the saddle, a grin pulling at his lips as he crossed to reach her.

he passed you with a nod and a small smile as you rushed to carter. "good morning, honey."

"good morning, mr wheeler!" you said, smiling at him before turning your complete attention to getting to the other end of the barn where carter was waiting for you, standing next to his tacked up horse. he laughed as you wrapped him in a firm hug, tugging you closer to him as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. "good morning, carter."

"good morning, sugar," he mumbled before pulling back to kiss you shortly. "sleep well?"

"well enough," you answered with a shrug. "i was sad without you though."

he laughed. "trust me, if i could've stayed in bed with you i would've."

"you mean couch? you would've stayed on the couch with me," you teased, letting out a short laugh as your fingers played with the curls at the nape of his neck.

he rolled his eyes. "yes, the couch."

"you missed out on your mom's breakfast," you told him. "it was great. and i think we really bonded."

"you're already bonded, she loves you," he said.

"i know. but, it was nice just the two of us. i think she gets lonely here sometimes," you answered, a small frown pulling your lips down. "i might come out here more while you're working and spend some time with her. and to distract you from working."

"well," he said with a laugh. "i don't think either of us would mind. pops might, but we wouldn't, and neither would lloyd. but, i've got a better idea for now."

"oh, you do now?"

"i do."

"and what's that?"

"you don't go home just yet and you wait a little longer for me and then i'll come get you and we'll go out on a ride."

you grinned. "deal. how long do you think you'll be?"

"a few hours, maybe more, maybe less. i'll text you when i'm on my last chore and then i'll tack you up a horse and we can head out," he said.

"that sounds great," you replied.

"hey! carter, let's go!" rip called, stepping away from beth and getting back in the saddle.

you pressed a quick kiss to his lips again before moving out of the way. "text me. i'll see you later, hun, have a good day. i love you."

"i love you too," he answered, taking two quick steps to you to kiss you again before walking backwards to his horse and mounting. he tipped his hat at you before following a quickly trotting rip out of the stables and into the general field, moving to meet lloyd with the rest of the plans for the day.

you sighed as you watched him go, beth coming up behind you to watch them go too.

"you know," she hummed, arms crossed over her chest. "you two are... how do i say this? you're so domestic. you're seventeen, you're not married. you realize that, right?"

you rolled your eyes, letting out a laugh. "yeah, we realize that. don't mean we don't wanna be, mrs wheeler. i ain't letting him go, i hope you realize that."

"oh, i'm praying for it," she said honestly, smiling before squeezing her arm and walking back to the house. "but, if that's the truth you better get your ass inside to help me with the chores. we don't just lazy around all day, us cowboy wranglers!"

you laughed, finally taking your eyes off carter and turning to follow her. "yes, ma'am."

--

you helped beth with household chores and a few basic ones to do with the horses. you weren't a stranger to working around the ranch and she appreciated your help. but, when you got a text from carter that he was on his last segment of fence to repair, she was happy to let you go.

"bring him some food, would you?" she asked. "i'm gonna get rip and lloyd to stop for lunch, but you two can have your lunch on the trail."

"i was already planning on it," you answered, holding up a small tote bag that had a few sandwiches, chips, and apple slices in it. you grinned at her before backing out of the house. "see ya mrs wheeler! i'll be back!"

you were down at the stables as quick as could be, rip and lloyd passing you by on their way back to the house.

"hi lloyd!"

"hey kid," the older man said with a grin, patting you on the shoulder as he followed rip. "carter taking you on a ride?"

you almost laughed at the opportunity for a crude joke you knew you would've taken had it just been you and carter, but you just nodded instead. "sure is."

"no damn funny business out there," rip said with a pointed finger.

"you think i want funny business happening out there?" you asked with an incredulous look in his direction. "there's snow everywhere. it's muddy. there's cow shit. it's completely out in the open. mr wheeler, don't you worry, i have no desire to get naked on your ranch."

he rolled his eyes at you. "just making sure you know the rules."

"trust me, sir, i do and i abide by them," you said, saluting him. your voice took on a teasing tone as you glanced at a highly amused lloyd and then back to rip. "just because you and mrs wheeler didn't follow her daddy's rules doesn't mean that-"

"oh don't you fucking start," he huffed, brows narrowing in a short glare. "how the hell do you even know about that?"

"your wife talks," you answered with a shrug. you stifled a laugh as you looked at lloyd again. "and so does your best friend here."

his eyes snapped to lloyd. "are you kidding me?"

lloyd laughed heartily. "you have these strict fucking rules for your kid and you expect me not to tell them all about you and beth when you were their age? you two were so caught up you ended up branded!"

"and i have no interest in that," you said with a mocking shake of your head. "so no worries, sir."

he sighed, head hanging as he rested his hands on his hips. "can you go home now?"

"mrs wheeler already told me i can stay whenever and however long i'd like, so while i can i'm not sure i will," you answered simply. "you're gonna have to deal with me for a long time, mr wheeler, i hope you know that."

"oh i'm looking forward to it," he sighed. he turned back to head inside, shaking his head. "whatever. just don't get pregnant."

"i already told you i have no interest in that!" you called as him and lloyd went inside, giggling to yourself when he flipped you off.

that was when you noticed carter had trotted in.

you turned to him with a smile. "i love your family."

his brows were furrowed, but he was still smiling a bit at you. "okay... what happened?"

"i just told him i have no interest in getting butt naked and pregnant in his field," you answered with a shrug. "like they tried to do when they were our age."

"ew, mental image," he said, scrunching his nose. "are you ready to go?"

"ready," you nodded. "want me on a different horse or wanna go together?"

"up to you."

"let's just go together. i wanna be close to you."

"sounds good to me."

he held a hand out to help you up behind him, scooting up a bit to give you more space. he set your tote bag into the saddle bag and grabbed the reins, you wrapping your arms around his middle and leaning your head against his back.

"off we go," he hummed before tapping his heel against the belly of the horse, starting him into a trot.

you headed out to a spot you hoped and prayed would be dryish, and luckily for you the snow had at least melted enough for you to put a tarp down to sit on. he tied the horse off and joined you on the mat, you handing him his two sandwiches and starting on the apples.

"good day so far?" you asked.

"so far so good," he said with a nod, inhaling the first sandwich in what seemed like seconds. "you?"

"good. just some chores around the house. i cleaned your room."

"you did?"

"mhm."

"you didn't need to do that."

"you're pretty clean, babe, it wasn't hard to just remake the bed and pick everything up. there were just a few pearl snaps on the floor was all."

you finished your apples and sandwich, placing the ziplocs back into the bag and starting on your little bag of lays.

"well, thank you. i appreciate it."

"anytime. your mom called us domestic."

"domestic?" he eyed you, crunching on some ruffles. the bag was practically gone, and so were his apples and sandwiches. the boy was always hungry. "what do you mean domestic?"

"like... we act like a married couple," you said, shrugging. "she reminded me that we're not married."

"well, duh," he said with a roll of his eyes. "don't mean we can't just live life together. that's my favorite thing to do with you."

"live life?" you laughed.

"yeah! make dinner, watch movies, do chores, take care of the horses. and waking up to you this morning was my favorite thing."

you smiled. "it was my favorite thing too. you know what my second favorite thing is?"

"hm?"

"being alone with you for the first time in a day and a half."

that caught his attention real quick. he raised his brows, letting out a bit of a laugh as he kept his gaze on you. "oh yeah?"

you smiled. "yeah."

he grabbed your empty chip bag from you and shoved it and his into your tote that now served as a trash bag. he sat up, shifting closer to you and cupping your cheek just under your jaw. gently, he pressed his lips to yours. you were quick to respond, one hand holding you up from the ground and the other sliding up his upper arm to his shoulder and neck, running through his hair smoothly.

the kiss lasted longer than you expected, and when you pulled away you were pretty out of breath. he grinned at you, pecking your lips again before sitting back and pulling you to him.

"i thought you didn't want to break his rules out here?" he asked, kissing you again.

"i don't," you mumbled, kissing him back. "i just wanna be close to you."

"close like this?"

"or this."

you pulled back to lay down, holding a hand out to pull him down next to you. you cuddled into his side as he let out a laugh, happy to oblige you. he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

"i see what she means, the whole domestic thing."

"i don't mind it."

"don't worry, sugar, i don't either."

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thanks for reading! leave a request in the comments or message me privately! i love writing, so if you've got an idea you need fleshed out on paper i'd love to be the one to do that for you

masterlist!!

[cloveroctobers]

access all areas — 10. Zilla Fatu [Winter Prompts]

A/N: i was battling between making this either Jey or Zilla inspired…and I decided to risk it lol s/o tiktok for putting me on again yet I’m still learning him lol 🩵

PROMPT IS FROM HERE + HERE & I’m using: 27. confessing a crush when it's snowing. DIALOGUE PROMPTS —“It's just a wish, I know wishes don't come true." // "Who told you that?"

WARNINGS: This is a shorty fluff! absolutely the language! Suggestive themes & Zilla being Zilla? Whatever that means 😉

<- if you’re bored or open to reading something else cute read my previous floppy flop anthology prompt here.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆ .𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆ .𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆

“You calm down yet?” Is the first thing you say to the brooding man, sliding the door shut behind you as you step out onto the deck.

He sucks his teeth in response, not taking his glare from the approaching evening view, elbows resting along the banister, “Don’t come over here wit that mane.”

You laugh, squeezing the collar of your fur jacket tighter around your neck while you took a spot beside him, “Or what? You gonna cuss me out too? Everybody knew what they were doing sending me out here to deal with your ass.”

Zilla rolls his dark eyes up to the sky.

He knows there were plenty of options that could have had the task of talking to him: Jacob who knew Zilla pretty well and always tried to coach him into having a level head but after that shit he just pulled with Solo at his log cabin? That man was ready to toss Zilla out on his ass himself! Then there was Jimmy who usually tried to see everyone’s POV and that he did when it came to Zilla and Solo’s everlasting beef, Jey (who was currently tipsy) no longer had patience for Zilla’s mouth and as much as the twenty-five year old loved to be at functions with Jey, when they got into disagreements it always had the potential to go extremely left (their tempers combined was insane work) between the two however they could always squash it at the end of the day, and even Roman who was just getting the chance to really know the youngest member, was witnessing it all and open to figuring out where Zilla’s head was at—since they were all in their twenties once before.

Ultimately you stepped up (with light pushing from the other ladies, mainly Ava and Jey) to make sure Zilla was alright after he and Solo almost threw hands. It was all going so well, everyone was having a good time until the competitive sides egos came out.

“And how’s that? You not getting me to sit around the campfire and singing songs with that mutha—

“Alright, relax.” You interrupt with your hand held up, “How is it that I’m cool with your own blood and you’re not?”

Zilla muttered, “Maybe that’s part of the problem too.”

You tilt your head to the side, “What?”

“Let’s not act like I didn’t see him tryin’ to push up on you.”

You’re frowning now.

You and Solo been friends long before you met Zilla. At first you didn’t think he was even open getting to know you because you had ties with Sikoa but eventually Zilla pulled his head out of his ass, apologized for being an asshole for awhile, and you two were able to turn over a new leaf. There were no doubts that the both of you heavily got on each other’s nerves—Virgo men—but somehow there was always love there.

“It’s not like that.” You sigh, “Never has been and I don’t know why I have to sound like a damn broken record for you to get it.” You snap, leaning on your own elbow, and pressing another hand into your hip.

He blinks, “Does he know that?”

“I’m not doin’ this with you, Isayah.” You exasperate, “I came out here to check on your well-being, not you focusing on non-existent problems. Especially when you’re still out here entertaining other bitches like a dog in heat.”

It’s Zilla’s turn to furrow his brows.

“I dunno where that’s comin’ from but I’ll bite, say what’s on your mind then, ma.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you peek down at your acrylics as if that was more important, “…I’m just saying you’re using whatever you can find—something as ridiculous as Solo being into me, as an excuse to whoop his ass at any given time, is funny when your phones been going off from your little groupies since you got here.”

“Ah,” Zilla leans back and points, “You keepin’ tabs on me? How sweet.”

“Shut up, ain’t nobody thinking about you.”

Zilla smirks, “I mean…it’s coo if you are.”

“Me when I’m trying to deflect.”

“I’m not.” Zilla laughs a little, “I don’t gotta lie to you. There’s been a few that I’ve been talkin’ to but it’s never gone any further…cause I’m waiting on your ass, surprisingly.”

From the corner of your eye you spot flakes starting to glide down from the sky. The deck suddenly feels warm compared to the frigid air that first greeted you and almost made you want to crawl back inside.

“Huh?” Is all you can get out.

Zilla mocks you, “Huh? You heard me.”

“So…” you kick at the air awkwardly now, “I guess this is the part where I confess I’m feelin’ you too.”

He nods, “I thought that shit was obvious way back when I was hittin’ it right on Halloween with my hands around your throat?”

Instantly you smack his arm, making him laugh and lick his lips. “I didn’t need a refresher, thank you!”

“I dunno I thought your ass might of forgot,” Zilla turns to fully face you now, “I certainly didn’t.”

And there he goes giving you that taunting stare, that could make one with the most fear in their heart, quiver in place.

Reaching a ring finger out to the man, he breaks eye contact for a moment and reaches his own hand out to interlock with yours. It’s instant static but it’s brief because he’s tugging you right into his embrace. You melt into his frame, his arms locking around you just right as you gently sway side to side in the cold evening. Of course one hand that isn’t wrapped around your shoulders, slides down to hold your backside that’s buried beneath your fur jacket—knowing he would much rather get a real feel—you laugh to yourself.

“Can’t help yourself, can you?”

“I mean…you just said you’re down to be mine, no?”

“I don’t know if I said all that.” You pull back to glance down at his lips, a smile playing on your own glossed ones.

He closes one eye pretending to think about it, “You kinda did admitting your truth to me, girl. Don’t act brand new.”

“That’s all you!” You go to shove him with a laugh, that he mirrors, “Actin’ all fool over you know who when he’s just a friend and whomever is in your phone, you need to dead that by the way.”

“Yes ma’am.” He agrees, “Can I get some love now?”

“Are my hugs not enough?”

“Yeah sure, you smell divine and look even better but I’m really trying to see what you taste like.”

Oh?!

“I thought you didn’t forget.”

“Of my other girl, nah.” He shifts his eyes down your frame, making you gasp, ready to smack him again, “Sweeter than any cherry pie I’ve ever eaten.”

“You don’t like cherry pie.”

He shrugs as if it’s obvious, “You’re my exclusive.”

Shaking your head, you’re not sure what exactly you were going to do with this man but you turn to get a better view of the snow that started to come down harder now. Like a young child, you go to the banister to gaze up at the pretty fluffs that demanded to be seen.

You feel the weight of Zilla’s arms lock around you now, which makes you lean back against him, enjoying his warmth—despite the fact that he was only outside in a hoodie—which you didn’t want to hear a thing about when he caught a cold—and the touch of his lips against your neck.

“…Whatchu wish for?” He asks after a moment, noticing that your eyes were closed as soon as you spotted a star that flew through the sky.

If you blinked you might have missed it.

You’ve always been into shooting stars and the galaxies and shit. Zilla could be a yapper himself but he remembers a late night session after your first and only time together, that y’all got into a conversation of the unknown.

Granted you may or may not have been under the influence that Halloween night but those thoughts still occurred even without.

Lightly turning your head against his collarbone, you realized you’ve been caught, “It's just a wish, I know wishes don't come true."

Zilla frowns, “Who told you that?”

“It’s silly.” Your attempt to persuade him to drop it would be ignored.

Zilla scoffs, “It was me wasn’t it? You don’t gotta be shy about it…plus I actually like hearing what’s on your mind if we’re being honest.” He taps at your temple gently.

You can’t help but to beam at him, “Aw, aren’t you cute!”

Zilla rolls his eyes at you slightly squealing, “Don’t start.”

“Want a kiss?”

“Hell yeah…New Years about to come early.” He returns the grin, licking his lips as you spin to wrap one arm over his shoulders, the other goes to lightly scratch at the back of his head just how he liked, foreheads touching, noses brushing against each other, as you breathe each other in just before Zilla makes the move to place his lips right on yours.

He still knew how to make your toes curl just with one kiss.

“I love yo ass.” Zilla admits, once he catches his breath, an ounce of fear shining through his own dark eyes for a moment before he easily masked it.

A smile that reaches your own eyes speaks before you do, “I know.”

Zilla throws his head back in annoyance, “Forreal? This what you on?”

You nod playfully, “Can’t give you too much access can I?”

“Access?” Zilla repeats with a glance from underneath his lashes, “We been passed that, don’t you think, baby?”

Humming you move to rest both hands on his chest, “I would say you’re right and the feeling is mutual but that might get to your head.” You tease.

Zilla rubs at his face, laughing to himself, “Oh aight, bet. Imma get it out of you though, just you wait.”

“I don’t doubt it.” You wink, pulling the sides of his hood forward more as a brisk chill full of snow glided by you two, and then you toss your leg up over his hip.

Zilla doesn’t hesitate to grip your clothed flesh, his gaze darkening as you lightly bite your bottom lip, “Yeah, I think you’re asking for trouble as if you don’t know that I’m about it any time and anywhere. That hot tub cover is calling our names.”

You peek around his frame, leaning a bit to see the covered tub up ahead and that was enough of a hint into Zilla’s mind.

“Ayo! Y’all better be clothed out here!” Jey calls out, peering through his fingers and lets out a sigh of relief, “Zil, your time out is over! Bring your asses back in here, we about to fire up: den of thieves.”

Zilla groans as he says back over his shoulder to his older cousin, “Man, why your drunk ass gotta be so loud for?! Can’t you see we’re busy?”

“Well get un-busy! I’m sure you will find some other time to get nasty at some point while we’re all here…and you’re welcome by the way!” Jey sends the two a grin before leaving the door open, letting you two know that this wasn’t up for debate.

Watching action movies was part of the family gathering, along with a lot of shit talking and over talking that definitely pissed a few off that we’re trying to get into the storyline. You and Solo were part of the few that hated excessive talking so you just hoped the snacks were good.

Placing a lingering kiss on an irritated Zilla, you savored his lips, which turned a scowl into a smile, then you intertwined your fingers, dragging him back into the cabin full of chaos.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆ .𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆ .𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆

[typingdyslexiaisathing]

I love the idea of an MC that will just snuggle a good boy of the Obey Me cast to get some much needed comfort and rest. MC needs the moments of being held to another individual to rest their head against a heartbeat that they know belongs to someone who values them and loves them. What with how often mayhem and chaos strikes in the Devildom as a whole if not because of the Avatars of Sin on a personal day to day level. So MC will just head for one of their beloved companions to just flop on top of them and get hugs.

There's a moment after classes let out where everyone has been working on some event or studying for exams for MC to be about ready to just lose their mind. So they just auto walk to the Demon Lord's Castle and right up to Diavolo. The demon looks them over to then smile and nod his head. Leading MC to his bedroom for them to just lay on the bed and have MC snuggle into Diavolo. The ruler of the Devildom gently pets MC's head as they heave a long sigh of air. Barbatos lays a blanket over them to text the brothers where MC is and that one of them may pick MC up in the morning.

Beelzebub has just finished his workout routine to be getting out of the shower and all dressed for dinner. When a knock on his door has him open it to find MC in tears. So he walks them in for MC to just hug Beelzebub and cry into his chest. Beelzebub lifts them up and lays them in the bed to pat MC's back and hold them. While MC just bawls and sobs for a minute before going quiet to get maximum cuddles from their favorite teddy bear demon. Beelzebub hugs MC close to just tell them he understands and that he loves them.

[love--and--venom]

Secret's Out

This is a mini-fic based on the series "Secret Secret" by the lovely @hornyfor-redacted-onmain

I was awake at 4am the other night and in order to fall asleep I thought of a way that the reader gets exposed as an omega to the rest of the Stray Kids members!

An alternate smut ending can be read here

ABO!OT8 x Reader

Summary: the skz comeback has begun and you’re at the first hotel of the tour. What’s gonna happen when you get a panicked call from Chan during a dance rehearsal? Will you be able to keep your omega nature hidden?

Warnings: Felix in distress, Minho gets pissed, Chan is losing it, cursing, abo dynamics, dubcon if you squint, Y/N used four times, probably incorrect assumptions about Korean hotels

You arrived at the first hotel of the tour feeling exhausted. The drive from Guangdong to Gangseo wasn’t necessarily long, but it was stressful nonetheless. Being squished in the backseat between Hyunjin and Jisung definitely wasn’t comfortable, but since you were smaller than the boys there wasn’t much of a choice.

The hotel was way fancier than any you’ve been to before. The lobby had a completely open floor plan, complete with marble tiles and floor to ceiling windows. You stood to the side while Chan and Soojin got everyone checked in. Thankfully it didn’t take long. You were dying to get to your room and flop down for a nap. Soojin handed out the key cards, and luckily you were rooming with Maya. 

Applying my scent blockers and pheromone perfume is gonna be a challenge, you thought as the elevator swiftly rose to the third floor. All of the stylists and staff members were on the third floor while the boys had rooms on the fifth. And the main reason for choosing this hotel: a fully equipped dance studio on the bottom level. It’s best not to wander too far since the boys could be easily recognized, even with masks and hats on. You and Maya quickly settled into the room. It was time for a quick 30 minute (or maybe 2 hour) nap.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the third day at this hotel and you were working on translating more promotional posters on your laptop. Maya left hours ago to coordinate with the other stylists for tomorrow’s performance. You doubted she would be back before dinner. Your train of thought was interrupted by your phone buzzing. You had to dig around the blankets, but you found that it was Chan calling. Your eyebrows pinched together, confused by him calling in the middle of rehearsal.

“Chan? What-” you were cut off by the idol’s panicked breathing.

“Felix collapsed. Minho said it’s a subdrop, and none of our scents are bringing him back. I don’t know what to do, this is my fault!” You felt a rush of worry down your spine. A subdrop right after a heat meant Felix was in serious emotional turmoil. 

“I’m coming, I’ll be down in less than five minutes. Make sure Felix is comfortable and in a safe place,” you ordered. You didn’t give Chan the time to answer, opting to hang up and sprint toward the studio. You hesitated for a second at the elevators before slamming the door to the stairwell open. Your lungs burned as you ran down the stairs at top speed, sometimes skipping several steps at a time. 

“Where is he?” You shoved past Minho and Jeongin. Chan and Jisung knelt at Felix’s side. Fear and panic permeated the scents of every member, nearly overwhelming your keen sense of smell. 

“None of our scents are bringing him back. Not the alphas, not the betas.” Jisung choked on his tears. He locked into your gaze, eyes rimmed with red. 

“Y/N, is he going to be okay?” Chan practically begged you. He was obviously holding back his own emotions. He had to be strong for his pack. But he and his inner alpha were panicked and angry, not at Felix, at himself.

“I’ve seen this before. When I was at university, one of my classmates was an omega. He went into subdrop after an alpha harassed him all semester,” you lean down and check the younger omega for injuries. “Felix’s omega is rejecting alpha pheromones because it was an alpha that caused his turmoil.”

“How do we fix it?” Minho’s voice was strained. He didn’t like that he couldn’t help his packmate. 

“He needs an omega’s scent. That’s what got my classmate to wake up.” Your eyes darted around the studio. “Where’s Seungmin?!”

“Oh my god, he stayed in our room because he had a headache. He was planning to come down after lunch,” Jeongin said. “Should I go get him?”

“No. The longer Felix is in the drop, the harder it is to come out of it.” You gently brushed Felix’s bangs out of his eyes. You knew it would be up to you to help the whimpering omega. Your own omega was screaming at you to protect.

“Is he going to die?!” Jisung clapped his hand over his mouth. Panic surged through the air.

“No! Absolutely not.” You licked the scent glands on your wrist and aggressively rubbed at your neck’s glands. Luckily, you were only wearing the scent blocker. 

“What the hell are you… doing…” Minho trailed off as your real scent flowed through the air. You could feel everyone staring at you, but you focused solely on Felix. 

“Come on, Felix. Come back to us.” You held your wrist up to his nose. He didn’t move. You huffed in annoyance at the alphas crowding around you. 

“Back up! You’re making this more difficult with your alpha stink,” you snapped. Minho glared, but allowed Changbin to pull him back. Your scent was still partially blocked out, your wrist glands weren’t going to cut it. 

You moved to straddle Felix’s lap, pulling the blonde to sit up. The other boys made various sounds of shock at your boldness. You ignored them. You quickly pushed his nose into the crook of your neck, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You felt him take a deep breath, exhaling slowly. 

“Come on, sweet boy, come back,” you whispered into the crown of his head. Felix jolted. His fear filled eyes met with yours. Tears flooded his lash line.

“Omega?” Your heart clenched at the weakness in Felix’s voice. Your hands moved to cup his cheeks. Felix sobbed and buried his face into your neck again, squeezing your middle in a crushing hug. 

“It’s okay, Felix. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” You gently swayed and ran a gentle hand through his hair. Despite your own anxiety, you managed to keep your scent soothing. The younger omega nuzzled into your neck and cheek, scenting you out of instinct. You chuckled with a small shake of your head. You were beyond relieved that you were able to help. You pressed a small kiss to Felix’s scent gland to further calm the boy. 

“I- fuck, I need to step out,” Chan broke you from your stupor. He slammed the studio doors open and rushed out.

“I’ll go check on him,” Hyunjin followed the agitated alpha to the hallway. 

“Alphas are so dramatic,” you clicked your tongue. Felix giggled and pulled his head back. “Hey, there’s that pretty smile!”

“I’m sorry. Y/N, I’m so sorry I made you-” 

“Shh, Felix it’s okay. They were going to find out eventually. I’m just happy that you’re awake. My omega went nuts when Chan said you dropped.” You tucked Felix’s bangs behind his ear with a gentle smile.

“Uh, is this a bad time to say that this is really hot?” 

“Changbin!” You whipped your head around to scold the young beta. “Yes, this is a very inappropriate time to say something like that.”

“Sorry! I’m sorry, but, I mean, look at you,” he gestured to your current position. “You’re sitting in Felix’s lap, his hands are on your thighs, and your scents are mixing in the most delicious way.” Felix flushed a deep red. 

“Bin, you made Felix uncomfortable!” Jisung joined you in scolding his bad behavior. 

“Do you want me to move?” You sighed, looking at the blushing omega.

“Y-yeah, as long as I can hold your hand. And keep your leg touching mine!” You sat criss-cross next to Felix, pressing your thigh into his. He squeezed your hand, and you returned the gesture. 

“Right, so Chan-hyung had to leave because he apparently couldn’t handle the smell of both omegas. He said that his alpha was going wild seeing Felix scent Y/N.” Hyunjin strolled back into the studio. Seungmin trailed in behind him with a cooling patch on his forehead.

“Jeongin, I got your text. Is everything okay?” He paused, sniffed at the air, and rushed up to you and Felix, grinning widely. The youngest omega plopped down behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his forehead on the back of your neck.

“I thought you were a beta! This is so cool, we have another omega,” Seungmin gushed, although his voice was muffled by your t-shirt. He sighed happily. “Your and Felix’s scents are helping my headache way better than any aspirin.”

“Awe, I’m glad I could help,” you cooed. You reached a hand behind you to run a hand through Seungmin’s bedhead. 

“Why did you lie about your presentation?” Minho’s sharp voice broke the serene moment between the three omegas. Your hand dropped to your lap. 

“I’m sorry I lied to you, but it was necessary. Working as a translator for JYP has been my dream job for forever.” You looked up at the alpha. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

“JYP doesn’t hire omegas. So you lied, used scent blockers, and an artificial scent to pretend to be a beta? To get a job?” You bristled at the accusatory tone in Minho’s voice. 

“Yes, I did. And I’d do it again.” Minho pressed his lips into a thin line. He was annoyed, angry, but most of all defensive over his packmates. 

“Does Chan know?” Changbin cut in, worry evident in his voice. 

“Yeah, he knows,” you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. 

“And how is it that Chan and Felix know, but the rest of us are left in the dark?” Minho once again took the reigns of the impromptu interrogation. Felix’s jaw tensed. He glared at the floor. You could tell that he was embarrassed about the real way you and Chan met, and how he learned your secret. 

“Felix actually caught me first,” you started. The blonde’s eyes snapped up to yours. “He saw me at a cafe without the scent blockers and perfume. I explained everything, and Felix promised to keep my secret as long as Chan was aware.” You knew you shouldn’t have lied again, but the relief that washed over Felix negated the guilt bubbling in your stomach.

“I understand if you want to report me to management,” you sighed. You figured this would happen at some point, but the disappointment hit hard.

“NO!” You jumped when Felix and Seungmin yelled and tightened their hold on you. “We are absolutely not reporting her.”

“Felix, she lied. Why would you want her as our staff member?!” Minho shook his head in disbelief. 

“I don’t want to report her, either, hyung. She’s really nice, a great translator, and her scent is so comforting.” You were honestly surprised that Seungmin was arguing in your defense. You thought he hated you. Minho’s gaze flickered between the two omegas of the group. Neither backed down, meeting his gaze with steely determination.

The staring contest was interrupted by the studio door opening again. Chan ran a hand over his face.

“Sorry I left. Is Felix okay?” Chan nearly choked on his own spit as he took in the scene before him. His two omegas, cuddled up to you. All three of your scents mixed together. If he thought his alpha was intense before, he was going into absolute overdrive now.

“Fuck!” He cursed and pressed his hands into his eyes before dropping them to his sides. He drank in the sight of the three omegas. He stalked forward, eyes predatory. You could practically feel his alpha pushing to the surface. You subtly moved in front of the younger omegas, your instincts screaming at you to protect them. Chan got too close for your omega’s liking and you growled, slightly baring your teeth. 

“Did you just growl at me, omega?” He scoffed. The attitude switch from calm and protective leader to predator left the younger omegas and the betas on edge. You felt the boys cling onto you tighter. Your instinct to listen to the alpha clashed with your instinct to protect your juniors. 

“You think you can intimidate me by using my title?” You sneered at him. The muscle in his jaw twitched in agitation. “Pull your shit together, Chan. You are scaring them!” Chan finally seemed to realize that most of his pack was tensed, ready to fight or flee when he made a move.

“Jisung, Changbin, Jeongin. Take them back to Y/N’s room.” Chan said through gritted teeth. The three betas hesitated. “Now!”

“Chan-”

“Save it, Hyunjin. They need to get the omegas out of here while I still have control of my alpha. It’s taking all of my willpower to keep him back from forcing her to submit.” Your eyes widened in shock. 

“Get up, we’re leaving.” You stood, dragging the boys still glued to your side to their feet. The betas walked between the omegas and Chan, eyeing their leader wearily. You lead the group up to your room, pulling Felix and Seungmin in behind you.

“We’ll make sure the alphas, especially Chan, calm down. Keep them safe, please,” Jisung’s voice was tired. You exchanged strained smiles before closing your door. You sighed heavily. The younger omegas looked at you with wide eyes. 

“You wanna make a cuddle puddle and nap?”

[meownotgood]

the neon pink rabbit dildo was aki's idea.

technically, you were the first one to mention using toys in the bedroom. you've been dating for quite a while now, and although everything with aki is always fantastic, you've been wondering if maybe the two of you should try to make things more... interesting. aki is polite. tightly-laced. pretty vanilla, to put it bluntly. you honestly weren't sure what sort of things he'd be into, if anything at all.

your coworkers had plenty of office gossip about the new fancy adult store they're opening down the block — it has two floors, they're having specials on all their products for couples. you figured it was worth mentioning to aki, just for the hell of it. you tell him as you're both relaxing in the living room after work, like you normally do.

everyone at your job has been complaining about the new surge of traffic to the nearest parking garage. it must be because of the new giant sex shop. ha ha, very funny. aki gives you an all-too serious once-over, before he gently asks, "did you want to check it out?"

you fumbled through your next words, and swiftly explained to your boyfriend that yes, sure, you wouldn't mind checking it out with him. it'd be exciting, really. honestly, you're all for experimenting, but you're unsure, you aren't very knowledgeable. the problem with the whole thing is that you don't know exactly what you'd like to try. it's a bit stressful to imagine getting lost in a huge adult store, with no idea what to purchase.

"I could try to pick something out. maybe that'd be less stressful." aki suggests, his slightly flushed face betraying his level tone. he crosses his legs and leans back into the couch. "only if you're interested, though."

you confirmed you were very, very interested.

part of you assumed aki might back out. he's been busy with work lately, so you had plenty of time to mull it over before your next date — but you honestly had no idea what sort of toy he might pick out. you know he'd put thought into it. he would choose something for a specific reason, or purposefully pick a toy he assumed you would like. perhaps he'd imagine how he might use it on you. would it be something small? large? super adventurous or overly simple?

still, despite all your thinking, when the day actually comes, aki manages to surprise you.

he comes over to your place shortly after you text him an invite. sure. I just got done with work. I'll be over soon, aki replies. he sends another string of texts shortly afterwards, while you're busy tripping over your pant leg, trying to quickly change into your lingerie. I missed you. I'm bringing a surprise.

maybe it was that text, or maybe it was because you haven't seen him in close to a week and you're practically dying to feel his touch, but once he arrives, the two of you barely last a few innocent minutes together before you're stumbling into your bedroom.

aki allows you to pull him forward and on top of you by his tie when you flop back onto your bed. your hands run through his soft hair to tug it free of its hairtie. you kiss his lips and brush your tongue against his with fervor, and you don't protest when he shifts to trail tingling, affectionate kisses down your neck.

you curl into his touches — his mouth on your collar, his palm gliding over your lower back — and you make quick work of a good third of his work uniform: his tie, his jacket, the first few buttons on his dress shirt. aki is much more efficient. he discards your clothes with careful movements, between soft kisses. he sighs when he pulls back, nervously running a hand through his hair, his eyes heavy at the sight of your pretty body held tight by the thin, perfectly fitting lingerie.

"you look beautiful," he hums, completely earnest. you shudder, your arms held around his neck and shoulders. your thighs spread wider for him as his warm palm brushes in between them.

you'd almost forgotten about the surprise, until aki reminds you of it.

he pulls himself off of you for a moment to reach into his bag. the dildo is moderately sized, a handful of inches in length at most, but it doesn't seem cheap. it's made from bright pink silicone, long and thick with two different sections. the smaller portion is adorned with two small knobs, shaped like rabbit ears.

it's meant for double stimulation, aki explains awkwardly, between a handful of uhms and stutters. you could certainly gather as much from the shape.

he places a hand on your waist ever-so gently, and when he asks, are you okay with this? you're swift to answer with a nod of your head. you're more than okay with it. what you couldn't figure out is how it might feel — until aki finally opts to show you.

he has you sprawled out beneath him, completely pliant. your arms are above your head, hands clenching tight as he glides his palm from your waist to your thigh with reassurance. he squeezes, and he fiddles with the toy for a moment, gauging the various controls. as he leans in closer, he presses a kiss to your cheek, he breathes a low instruction to relax. then, he flips the toy to press just the small, vibrating, rabbit-eared attachment to your still-clothed clit.

you can feel the faint vibrations, even through your lingerie. the toy must be on the lowest setting; it's more of a tease than anything else. still, your eyes flutter. you let go of a satisfied sound, and eagerly grind your hips up to meet the toy.

aki sighs. "you want more?" he murmurs, already sitting up and hooking his thumb around the string of your underwear. "can I take this off?"

you nod hastily, and lift your hips to allow him to pull the garment down your legs and all the way off.

aki's jaw clenches. sweat is forming at his brow and his palms, as you coo his name and spread your legs wider for him. you're so wet — he can tell without touching, but he's entirely sure once he guides the thick head of the toy over your cunt, and sees your arousal glistening on the silicone. he gives you another soft squeeze, another gentle touch on your side, a final, are you sure?

when you whimper and plead, please, aki, I want to feel it, he hardly hesitates to give you exactly what you've been hoping for.

the dildo is just the perfect size. it slides into you effortlessly, filling you perfectly and snugly. the length of it is curved slightly, and you can feel that curve as he slowly eases it in — nudging your walls, the thick tip deliciously meeting your sweet spot.

"there, that's it," aki praises. once the toy is all the way inside you, he lets go of a sigh that sounds thoroughly satisfied. "god. you take it so well."

your spine tingles at the sound of his smooth voice. he adjusts the toy slightly, and as the flexible rabbit-eared piece presses against your clit, vibrations a little stronger than before, your whole body tremors.

aki fucks you on the toy with slow, shallow thrusts, enough to keep the vibrations on your clit. and it's intense, it's so much; the toy fucks you so well and hits your sweet spot with its perfect curve on every thrust in. the vibrations are low and constant, thrumming against your sensitive, puffy clit.

wet noises fill the room as you dirty the toy's pretty pink shaft. aki keeps his pace slow, deliberate, never pressing it in too hard or too fast. all you can do is quiver and whine, your voice already becoming strained and loud.

he clicks a button on the dildo, and it begins to vibrate with strong pulses.

you're so beautiful; pleading his name, keeping your heavy, warm gaze locked on his despite the way your eyelids flutter. aki swears you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen as he watches the way you take all he has to give you. you have no idea what this is doing to him, how his heart is pounding and his mind is racing and oh, you were made to take this toy. you're all his, he has complete control over every facet of your pleasure. and god, does he want to make you cum for him.

aki increases the strength of the vibrations. "you're irresistible," he murmurs, and you don't fail to catch the small break at the end of his voice. he's falling apart too, just from this. "say my name again, please. want to make you cum for me, beautiful."

he trails soft kisses down your jaw while the dildo pleasures your cunt and your clit — and when you cum, you cum quickly and hard.

you tremor, you hold onto him tight, you soak the toy as your legs shake and your voice gives out. aki slows while you struggle to regain your breath, a hand slowly caressing your side, guiding you to breathe again. his heart feels like it might hammer out of his own chest.

"f-fuck..." aki swears, his breath shaky, his brows pinched. "you've never- that was-" he sighs. you're so lovely, so pretty. he's definitely going to lose his mind if he hasn't lost it already. why didn't he think of something like this sooner? "god... can you take one more for me?"

for @violet-turning-violet

[t0rn4d0273]

I uh.

did it again.

Paradox and prism could at least pay rent if they’re gonna be in my head this much-

[this one actually has a name this time]

Paraprism cuddles (teehee)

“How’d it go?” Paradox called to Prism as his boyfriend entered the tent and very tiredly flopped down onto their recently made bed, his quills disheveled and ears flattened back in stress.

“No progress made?” Paradox asked, moving to sit on the blankets and reaching over to slowly work his hands through Prisms tangled quills.

“No progress made.” Prism agreed, relaxing as Paradox lightly worked his hands through his cobalt quills. Silence overtook them for a while, lingering in the quiet moment before Paradox spoke.

“Cuddles?”

Prism nodded eagerly at the offer, sitting up and scooting off the bed so the two could throw back the sheets and crawl into their small, makeshift bed.

Prism wiggled their way into Paradox’s arms, pressing up against his chest fur and allowing all the stress from his body to melt away. Taking nice, deep breaths, he closed his eyes and allowed himself a small moment of quiet.

But with the newfound quiet came worries prism thought he had buried. The tension came back to his shoulders, the restlessness itching at his skin as his mind ran with thoughts he had tried to suppress.

Paradox noticed immediately. He slowly moved himself down to prism’s eye level, softly asking, “Sonic? Whats wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Prism immediately dismissed it, hoisting a smile onto his face.

Paradox just stared at him with a “you really think I’ll believe you on that?” face.

“Fine- fine. It’s just-“ Prism began, his voice shaking slightly, “it feels like the shatterspaces again. Alternate universes, alternate us, all with their own lives they have to get back to. And I don’t feel like I can help them enough-“

his words are cut off as paradox pulls him close and burys his face in his boyfriends shoulder, encasing him in a firm and comforting hug. After a long moment, Paradox pulls away and starts peppering prisms face with kisses as he starts talking.

“You. Are. The. Most. Kind. And. Caring. Hedgehog. I. Have. Ever. Met.” Paradox reassured, emphasizing each word with a kiss to the giggling hedgehog below him.

“Shads- stop!” Prism laughed as Paradox continued his attack. “You. are. trying. so. hard. for everyone else.” Paradox continued, finally releasing Prism from his hold and returning to his side of the bed. “I know you’ll figure it out.”

Prism smiled, moving over to lay his head up against Paradox’s chest. Paradox’s hand instinctively went up, lightly scratching between his love’s ears.

“Thanks shadow.”

I dont wanna bother you but I don’t wanna not tag you idk im so sorry-

@verizzafai

AND our beloved blog that gave us these dummys

@asksonicverse <- read it RIGHT NOW NOW GOGOGOGOGOGOGO-

[hatsunemitskislobotomy]

ೃ⁀➷ look at me! look at me!

↳ ❝ ¡love and deepspace idol! au headcanons! ❞

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

linkon city, the hotspot for new and upcoming talent. the city is restless, many calling it “the city of dreams”. ambition and passion are what fuel the city, it’s vibrant culture making it alluring to many. you and your best friend tara are debuting in the most anticipated girl group of your generation, hunt:ress. with your manager caleb and your groupmates by your side, this journey should be smooth sailing…

right?

fans tend to pit boy groups and girl groups against each other— it did not take long before your group hunt:ress was dragged into that mess. specifically with a particular boy group— after a clip of the recently debuted group brushing past yours without a second glance at an award show went viral, the boy group eVOL was never far when hunt:ress was mentioned. hell even variety and award shows were humoring the spectacle by having the two groups up to announce awards or interviews. that’s where you met the group’s maknae, xavier.

when i tell you— y’all looked at each other like ONCE and the masses were making edits, making blogs and analysis videos, writing fanfiction, whole nine yards

but of course with the people who thought y’all were cute (despite never actually having a conversation with one another) came his fans who gave you unnecessary hate, they’re ruthless

with the way your group was pitted against eVOL, other fans just thought y’all had beef (think the alleged jeongyeon v. jimin beef type of level LMAOOOOO)

no but seriously eVOL fans conspired with hunt:ress fans about you and xavier being together so much that caleb had to give the company your phone to search through just to make sure

rumors get so bad that they put you on house arrest shortly after some rabid xavier biases run you out of a cafe (it made the news)

eVOL’s company reaches out to yours with a half hearted apology, however they won’t won’t release a public statement because “that would only feed into it” and hope that the situation blows over

unbeknownst to both companies— xavier finds a way to reach out to you through your old phone (that you hide because you didn’t want to give up your old life just to become an idol) and apologizes for his fans behavior

the two of you actually start to talk since you’re not exactly allowed to go out the dorms save for group outings and music/award shows, he’s been the first person you’ve been able to actually talk to, it was refreshing

you find out despite his baby face— he is not the maknae and is actually the oldest member but his company’s trying to keep that public perception of him (yeah they’re weeeeeird)

you start to confide in each other and talk about idol life but also just random things, he’s a comforting presence in a world where everyone’s eyes were on you

you sometimes text him all night coming to practice absolutely exhausted, tara’s the first one to suspect something is going on

tara actually runs one of y’all’s ship pages LMAOOOOO

when your group wins an award for best new music, he’s the first person who congratulates you (the footage is clipped and before the end of the night it’s viral)

one of the reasons why hunt:ress was so well received was because of their visuals. the girls were pretty, sure— but whoever their stylist was? they were working overtime. there is not a single ‘flop outfit’ compilation or blog about any of you girls. one of your group’s performance outfit goes viral however everyone can’t stop talking about how it captured your aura and stage presence perfectly, it went viral catching everyone’s attention— including someone interesting. your company had ties to a famous designer who rarely showed his face, seemed like he’d just design clothes and have them modeled and call it a day, did not bother to even go to fashion showcases where his work would be the main event. but then he saw a clip of you in his work go viral— he had to see it for himself. that’s when you met rafayel.

when you heard that the designer of all your performance outfits wanted to meet you specifically you were nervous, after all this had to be some respectable man

let’s just say you were a bit confused when you showed up to his studio that looked like a tornado had ran through it— everything was strewn around

in its wake? an attractive young man who was probably the last person you’d think would be the person responsible for your group’s outfits

he’s an audacious man, skipping all pleasantries to immediately ask about your measurements

he asks for your chest size first and you resist the urge to chuck a nearby thread spool at him

you start to interrogate him, there’s no way that he’s the decorated designer that’s well respected in the industry… right?

but despite his demeanor, you can’t argue with his skill when he pulls out a dress that immediately catches your eye— you’re itching to try it on

he snickers at your wide eyes and tells you to change into it (he makes a joke about how he wouldn’t mind dressing you himself and you give him the craziest look)

once you’re all dressed up you step away from the changing room, doing a little twirl as you showed off his work

he was in awe, videography did you no justice compared the real deal— he shamelessly asks you to drop your idol career to be his model, his muse

and just when you thought you couldn’t give this man any more crazy looks

you really couldn’t deny it though, it was almost as if his work was made for you— the dress complimented you deeply

but alas you had worked extremely hard to get to where you were now, no amounts of flattery would coax you out of it

no matter to him, he wasn’t one to give up so easily. in a sea of fish, you were quite the catch

eventually he convinces your company to “lend” you to him as his model— the company agrees because not only is the versatility of idols really important but also free promo lolz

he now starts to attend these fashion shows so he can bask in your presence showing off his work, people whisper about the man who manages to get the best seat every time wondering who he is

at the end of every show he’s waiting for you with a bouquet of flowers, you always accept them joking about how it was just another failed attempt at him trying to get you to be his permanent model

little did you know that that wasn’t the only thing he was gunning for

whenever the question “who’s the most hardworking?” would arise in group interviews, without a doubt your fellow members would answer your name. your trainee days were rough, strict diets, endless hours of practice, appointments with vocal coaches, promo— you took it all in stride with no complaints. nowadays as a debuted idol in a well performing group, you still couldn’t help but watch what you ate, practice until your muscle ached, finding every opportunity to better yourself. tara often tried to reassure you that you already were good enough and that it was alright to be gracious and lenient towards yourself. you appreciated her words but you were fine, it wasn’t nearly as bad as being a trainee. that mindset eventually landed you in trouble causing you to collapse at a pre rehearsal for a music show. fortunately with no footage, rumors of your company potentially mistreating you only had the questioned credibility from word of mouth. eventually coming to with an iv connected to your arm and caleb scolding you for never taking breaks, your company insists that your group does the next few music shows without you so you can rest. before you can protest, a doctor that’s introduced to be your primary care walks in. that’s when you’re reunited with zayne.

you’re still a bit groggy but you recognize those pensive green eyes anywhere

he tries to not cross the line of a patient doctor relationship but the minute caleb leaves he gives you an exasperated look

he makes a quip that despite all these years later you still are inadequate in taking care of yourself

you grew up in the same small town as him and went to school together, of course he left for medical school while you perused your dream— who knew that you’d reunite in the big city

despite being in for mild dehydration and being treated for it with the iv, he insists on doing a full exam which gets you nervous and rightfully so, he’s very thorough

and lo and behold— he unravels your secret that you’ve kept from your company, your chronic illness

when auditioning and being signed on as a trainee the medical records you had submitted were from a shoddy doctor who never ran any tests

you beg him not to rat you out, after all you had made it this far with not a single person suspecting a thing

he’s very adamant about letting your company know, he tries to reassure you that the more room for accommodation for you the better but you cut him off pleading

he didn’t know how ruthless the industry was— you’ve seen plenty of popular groups put members in indefinite and unfair hiatuses for something beyond their control, if it wasn’t your company than the general public would know you as the sickly idol

you had worked too hard for it to come crashing down like this and his cold eyes softened in realization

he let out a sigh before begrudgingly agreeing to keep your secret, reminding you that you had been lucky that he was employed by the hospital rather than your company who by under contract he’d have to tell

he also makes a condition, you would have to start taking care of yourself more— if you ever landed in a hospital bed with another iv in he wouldn’t hesitate to let your company know of your state

you thank him profusely, you had worked far too hard for this. he knows because this had been your dream since you were children

you offer him to lunch in the upcoming weeks as a means to catch up, he only agrees under the guise that he can keep an eye on your condition while making sure you actually eat

❀° ┄───╮

a/n: wowza that was a lot 😵‍💫

y’all i love this game so much it’s not even funny— zayne my beloved pookie bear oml

i hope y’all enjoyed this fr, maybe i’ll write something(s) inspired by this au and hopefully expand on some of the headcanons ‼️

if y’all get some inspiration off of this pls tag me i wanna read yalls work so badlyyyy okay bye guys mwahhhh 🫶🏾

╰───┄ °❀

[eternallyordinary]

“He Belongs to You” - Part 12

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Series Masterlist<3

Summary: You need an escape. Homelander thinks otherwise.

Warnings: violence, vomit, graphic gore, language, knife, gun, death, blood, possessive nature, age gap relationship, harassment if i forgot anything pls Imk <3)

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“Fuck him!” Lindsay declares, snorting a line of coke.

You’re not entirely sure why you’re here—pregaming in an NYU dorm with coke and Svedka for a party.

Who the fuck even drinks Svedka anymore?

Lindsay does.

“I know it’s gross, but it’s so low calorie. Gets you drunker quicker too.”

You met Lindsay years ago at summer camp—one of those church retreats where the counselors hit on you, the music swells during worship, and suddenly everyone’s crying, though no one really knows why.

She had always been a lot, but she was always the life of the party. Something you couldn’t help but be jealous of as an awkward 14 year old girl.

You two grew up in neighboring towns and remained close. But when everything happened with your sexual assault? She disappeared. Radio silence.

You weren’t naive—you knew she had seen the tweets, heard the rumors. Yet she never checked in.

But then you made it big. ‘America’s Got Powers’ put you on the map long before the Seven.

And what do ya know?

Suddenly, she was back around.

One of many coming back like a revolving door.

She reached out 3 separate times to remind you she went to NYU. You always ignored her messages. Yet for some reason, when she invited you to this party, you thought “fuck it”.

And here you were, confiding in her about your one-week age-gap mess of a relationship with a man who made you feel like a fucking idiot.

Lindsay wipes her nose with the back of her hand, blinking rapidly as the coke hits.

“No, seriously. Fuck him,” she repeats, flopping onto the bed, legs crossed. “Who does he think he is, treating you like that? Like, hello? You’re you. He should be begging to keep you.”

You force a smile, swirling the cheap vodka around in your solo cup.

You don’t know why you told her anything.

Maybe you just need someone, anyone, to listen.

“Yeah,” you say, noncommittal.

Lindsay rolls onto her stomach, kicking her feet up behind her. “Wait, so how old is he again?”

You hesitate, then answer, “Like… older.”

Her eyes go wide, lips parting in amusement. “Like forty?”

You shake your head.

She gasps. “Fifty?”

“Jesus, no,” you scoff. “Not that old.”

She smirks. “But, like, old enough that it’s sketchy?”

You don’t answer, just take a slow sip of your drink. It burns, cheap and harsh, but you welcome it.

“Oh my God,” Lindsay drags the words out, laughing. “You’re being so weird about this. Who is this guy?”

She doesn’t know that the man you’re talking about isn’t just some guy.

He’s not just some older asshole who love-bombed you for a week and then humiliated you in front of an entire room.

He’s not just another man who made you feel small.

He’s Homelander.

The Homelander.

The most powerful man in the fucking world.

And he looked you in the eye today and made you feel like… nothing.

Not even a day after you gave him the most sacred part of yourself.

Fuck.

Now you feel sick.

“Just… someone I met,” you say vaguely, swirling your drink again. Hopefully the nausea is hidden on your face.

Lindsay raises an eyebrow.

“Okay… mysterious. But what did he do, exactly? Like, why are we hating him?”

You hesitate. How do you even explain it?

How do you explain that a man who could crush you with the flick of his wrist, who could level entire cities, spent the past week treating you like you were the most important thing in the world—then simply shut off like a switch was flipped?

That he turned cold, indifferent.

Like you were an inconvenience.

Like you disgusted him.

You swallow hard.

“I told him something really personal, and… I don’t know. He just, like, flipped on me. Acted like I was annoying him, like I was some dumb little kid wasting his time.”

Lindsay makes a face, sitting up.

“Wait, hold on, you told him something personal? Like, you overshared?”

Your heart clenches at the way she says it.

Overshared.

Like you were the problem.

Like this was your fault.

“…I don’t know. I guess?” you say, voice quieter.

Lindsay exhales dramatically, shaking her head.

“Ugh, that’s what did it then. Men hate that shit, babe. Like, it’s one thing to be hot and sexy and all that, but the second you start trauma dumping? They check out.”

You stare at her, something inside you fracturing.

She takes another bump of coke off the back of her hand.

“Like, don’t get me wrong, I love you,” she adds quickly. “But guys don’t wanna deal with that emotional shit. You gotta keep it fun, light. Make sense?”

No.

It doesn’t make sense.

You feel sick again.

Is that what it was?

Did you fuck it up?

Did you ruin everything by trusting him?

You swallow the lump in your throat, forcing a laugh. “Yeah… I guess.”

Lindsay nods, pleased with herself, before grabbing a tube of lip gloss from her bag and tossing it your way.

“Here. Put some on. You look sad, and sad is, like, not the vibe tonight.”

You catch the gloss, staring down at it.

Sad isn’t the vibe.

Got it.

The dorm room door swung open, and a girl with wet hair wearing an oversized NYU hoodie steps inside, earbuds still in. She barely glances up at first, shuffling through her bag—until she sees you.

Her eyes go wide with excitement.

“Oh my God,” she gasps, nearly dropping her Stanley. “It’s you!”

You barely have time to react before she rushes closer, eyes scanning your face like she’s making sure it’s real.

“You’re dating Homelander,” she practically squeals, clutching her chest.

Your stomach drops.

Lindsay, who was idly scrolling through her phone, suddenly froze.

Her head snapped toward you, eyes wide with shock, lips parting in disbelief.

“Wait. What?”

Your pulse pounded in your ears.

Lindsay blinked, then let out a stunned, disbelieving laugh.

“You’re telling me the guy who ghosted you—the one you were just whining about—is Homelander?”

She let out another laugh, sharper this time, shaking her head.

“Jesus Christ, no wonder you were being so fucking weird.”

You swallow hard, shifting in your seat.

Lindsay didn’t give you a chance to respond before reaching for the half-empty Svedka bottle.

“No wonder you’re so mopey. That man could ruin a girl.” She giggles, pouring a shot into a plastic cup before sliding it toward you.

“C’mon, take one with me,” she urges, nudging it closer. “You need this.”

You hesitate.

“Don’t be lameeeee,” she presses, drawing out the word.

“You’re literally heartbroken over Homelander. If that’s not a reason to drink, I don’t know what is.”

With a sigh, you pick up the cup, the cheap vodka fumes already stinging your nose.

Lindsay raises hers. “To bad decisions.”

You clink cups and throw it back—instantly regretting it as the burn claws down your throat.

You gag, wincing as Lindsay howls with laughter.

“Jesus,” you cough, setting the cup down hard.

Lindsay smirks.

“Let’s get fucking drunkkkkkkkkkkk!”

—

Wow.

It actually feels good to be out.

Loud music. Rooftop views. The energy of a hundred people all drinking, dancing, living.

For the first time all day, your mind wasn’t suffocating under the weight of him.

Maybe Lindsay was right. Maybe you did need this.

And here in this sweaty, drunken crowd, you’re the center of attention.

Everyone knows who you are.

“Holy shit, you’re actually here,” some girl gushes, gripping your arm like you’re a long time friend.

Lindsay grins, looping an arm around your waist, squeezing a little too tight. “Told you, bitches.”

“Dude, what?” another girl jumps in, eyes wide. “You’re, like, famous.”

The attention makes your head spin—not in a bad way, though.

You kinda like it.

And Lindsay definitely liked it.

She was drinking it up, acting like she personally invited Beyoncé herself.

“I can’t believe we used to go to church camp together,” she laughs, shaking her head.

Like, what the fuck? We were crying over Bible verses and now? You’re literally a superhero.”

“Yeah,” you muse, sipping your drink. “Crazy.”

And it is crazy.

People whispering about you, sneaking glances, pretending not to stare.

And maybe it was the vodka, maybe it was the rush of validation, but you didn’t mind.

Not one bit.

Lindsay leans in, her voice sweet but sharp. You can feel her energy shifting.

“Must be nice, huh? Not having to work for anything. Just getting powers and boom—famous.”

Your stomach tensed.

Before you can respond, a guy appears beside you, smiling as he hands you another drink.

“Word on the street is you’re the most important person here.”

He’s cute—dark curls, sharp jaw, confidence dripping from every movement.

You take the drink, tilting your head at him.

“And who are you?”

He smirks, leaning against the railing.

“Someone very interested in how strong you actually are.”

You laugh, warmth buzzing under your skin.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Oh, I would,” he grins. “I mean, I feel like I should get a little demonstration at least. Maybe we can arm wrestle? I’ll go easy.”

You roll your eyes playfully, taking a sip of your drink. “Oh, please. Your arm would fall off.”

“Damn,” he whistles, shaking his head. “That’s cold. You just gonna talk yourself up like that with no proof?”

“I don’t need to show proof,” you tease. “Also, how do I know this is safe to drink?”

He laughs, eyes glinting under the string lights. “Fair point. Here, I’ll take the first sip.”

He takes a drink out of the cup he gave you. You can never be too careful, as you know from experience…

“Thanks. Cheers, stranger.”

The guy leans in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to make it feel intimate.

“So… what’s the catch?”

You raise an eyebrow. “The catch?”

“Yeah.” He gestures to your drink, to the party.

“You’re here. Not at some fancy event, not on a yacht, not flying through the fucking sky.” He smirks.

“Seems like you’re trying to forget something.”

You take another sip, letting the alcohol burn away the thing you’re trying to forget.

“Maybe I just like a good party.”

He studied you for a moment, then grinned.

“Touché.”

“Okay, lovebirds,” Lindsay interrupts, voice dripping with amusement. “Should we get another round, or are you two just gonna eye fuck all night?”

You blush, but he just laughs in response.

“I mean, I’m cool with either option,” he says.

Lindsay gags. “Jesus, gross.”

You roll your eyes, but you were also smiling.

Maybe this is what you needed.

A stupid, reckless night.

A guy who didn’t make you feel small.

Someone who actually saw you.

Even if it was just for the night.

—

Homelander was spiraling.

Hours had passed since the meeting finished.

He told himself you’d be back.

He waited.

And waited.

You just needed time to cool off.

You’d go cry in your room, maybe sulk a little, maybe even try to be stubborn—but then you’d come back. Right?

But you haven’t yet.

His patience had burned out hours ago.

His nerves were shot, his brain buzzing, every muscle in his body completely wired.

He had flown to every floor of the tower.

Searched the common areas, your room, even fucking security footage.

Nothing.

Nada.

You weren’t here.

You weren’t anywhere.

He storms into Ashley’s office so fast, the glass door nearly shatters from the force.

Ashley practically jumps out of her chair, fumbling with a pen as her eyes go wide.

“H—Homelander! What, uh—what’s up?”

He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t slow down. Just walks straight to her desk, planting his hands down so hard the metal dents.

“Where is she?”

Ashley blinks. “Who—”

Homelander’s head snaps up, eyes glowing faintly, voice sharp as a blade.

“Ashley, for fuck sake. Don’t make me ask again.”

She knows who he’s talking about.

Of course she does.

He had spent the last week parading you around like his personal prize, barely letting you out of his sight.

If he was this angry right now, there was only one reason why.

You.

She swallows hard, adjusting her wig.

“Uhm… I—well, I haven’t seen her?”

“Track her chip.”

“Her—her chip?”

“Yes, her fucking chip Ashley.”

Ashley hesitates.

“I—uh, sir, I don’t think we should—”

The look he gives her nearly stops her heart.

She scrambles, hands shaking as she pulls up the system.

Her fingers fumble over the keyboard, typing too fast. Messing up, having to start over.

Homelander stares at the screen, his foot tapping against the floor.

Finally, Ashley sucks in a sharp breath, eyes on your pin.

“Okay—uh—it says she’s on…. a rooftop. NYU?”

The words barely left her mouth before Homelander was gone.

The force of his departure sends papers flying, rattles the windows. Ashley is left gaping at the empty space where he had just stood.

And for the first time in years, Homelander isn’t just pissed.

He’s fucking desperate.

—

The night settles into a comfortable haze—blurry, warm, buzzing.

Fuck.

You’re definitely drunk.

Not falling-over, slurring-your-words wasted, but just drunk enough that your body feels light. Everything around you feels good.

Lindsay found another group to talk to, probably tired of you soaking up all the attention.

Which left you alone with him.

Eli.

And he’s so fucking easy to talk to.

He leans against the rooftop railing beside you, sleeves rolled up, his grin lazy and cocky.

He has that look—like he always knows what to say, always knows how to keep a girl entertained.

And maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s just the way he was looking at you—but for the first time in hours, you weren’t thinking about him.

You were just… here.

Present.

Flirting with a guy your own age, who actually wants to be around you.

“So, tell me,” Eli says, turning to face you fully. “Do you guys actually live in that creepy tower full-time?”

You laugh, swirling your drink. “It’s not creepy.”

“Oh, no, you’re right,” he teases. “It’s totally normal for a bunch of freakishly powerful people to share a high-rise like some twisted reality show.”

You smirk. “Jealous?”

Eli places a hand on his chest, feigning offense.

“Me? Jealous? Never. I just think it’s wild— you could be anywhere in the world right now, and you’re here. At some shitty rooftop party. Talking to me.”

You hum, tilting your head.

“Maybe I like shitty rooftop parties.”

He raises an eyebrow. “And the me part?”

You smile. “Still deciding.”

Eli laughs, shaking his head. “Okay, okay, fair. But really. What’s the deal?” He gestures to you, to the party. “This doesn’t exactly seem like your scene.”

You hesitate.

What was the deal?

Why are you here?

Because Lindsay invited you?

Because you want to feel normal?

Because you’re trying to distract yourself from the fact you gave your virginity to someone who ignored you hours later?

Or—

Because some small, pathetic part of you wants to punish him?

Look at you, playing his own game.

“I just need a night off,” you finally say, taking another sip of your drink.

Eli studies you for a moment. “Bad day?”

You exhale a laugh. “Something like that.”

“Well,” he says, shifting closer, lowering his voice just enough to make it feel intimate, “whoever pissed you off is a fucking idiot.”

Finally.

That’s what you wanted to hear all day.

That he was the idiot. That he fucked up.

Because you kept saying those same things to yourself.

You smile, lifting your drink toward him.

“Eli, you might be onto something.”

—

From the shadows of a neighboring rooftop, Homelander watches.

He stands still as a statue, arms crossed over his chest. His cape barely stirring in the night breeze.

The city below alive with movement—horns blaring, lights flashing—but all he sees? All he hears?

You.

Laughing.

Flirting.

With some curly haired fuck.

Some nobody.

Some pathetic, insignificant piece of shit who thinks he’s good enough to stand in front of you. To touch your arm when he makes you laugh. To drink in the way your lips curve around your cup. Probably imagining those lips around his cock.

Fuck.

Homelander wanted to scream.

He continues to observe, vision locked onto every tiny detail.

The way Eli leans in just a little too close.

The way his eyes darken every time you smile at him.

The way he wants you.

And all Homelander wants is to rip him in half.

But he doesn’t move. Not yet.

Because you aren’t kissing him.

You’re just talking.

“Breathe,” he tells himself.

But he can’t shake this feeling.

Jealousy.

A slow, seething jealousy that burns through him like a fucking disease.

He can’t take it anymore.

As soon as he sees Eli stepping away to grab a drink, Homelander steps off the ledge.

Literally and figuratively.

It takes less than five seconds to reach him.

Poor Eli doesn’t even get a chance to see what hit him.

Homelander grabs him, yanking him into the shadows behind a cluster of rooftop vents.

Eli barely has time to gasp before Homelander clamps a hand over his mouth.

There’s no dramatic speech. No warning.

Just a squeeze.

Simple.

Easy.

The crunch of his skull collapsing, drowned out by the bass of the music.

His body goes limp instantly, eyes wide, blood dribbling from his nose.

Homelander lets him drop like a sack of garbage, his skull caving in from the force of his grip.

One problem solved.

Then—

A noise.

Laughter.

Homelander turns his head, eyes flashing as he spots them.

Lindsay.

The reason you’re at this cesspool in the first place.

This is all her fault.

She’s locked between two guys, her arms around their necks, tongue shoved down one’s throat while the other gropes at her sides.

Too wrapped up in their pathetic little display to even notice him.

Too busy slobbering over each other to realize what’s coming.

And that?

That pisses Homelander off even more.

In a blur, he crosses the rooftop, grabbing all three of them by their throats.

Squeeze.

This is too easy.

Three sickening pops crack through the air like firecrackers, and then they were just… gone.

Poof.

Gone before their brains could even process what happened.

Homelander let their bodies slump to the ground, stepping over them without a second glance.

They were in his way.

That was all they were.

And now, there was nothing between the two of you.

And there never would be again.

—

You have no idea death is in the air.

Too drunk, too blissfully unaware to notice the blood dripping from Homelanders gloves, or the tiny specks of red staining the hem of his suit.

And by the time he finds you, you’re standing in the middle of a cheering circle of people, chugging from a beer bong like it’s some type of Olympic sport.

“CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!”

Your head tilts back, beer pouring down your throat, dribbling down your chin. Your eyes glassy as you barely managed to keep up.

Homelander’s nostrils flare.

What the fuck was this?

Why are you out here, acting like some messy college girl? Making a fucking fool of yourself?

He takes a slow breath, reigning himself in.

And then—

Someone notices him.

“Oh, shit,” one guy yelps, eyes going wide. “Holy fuck, is that—”

The whole party paused.

And then, in unison—

“Holy shit, it’s Homelander!”

Drinks drop, whispers spread.

But you?

You just finish your beer, wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, turn—and smile.

“You’re mean,” you slur, pointing a wobbly finger at him.

Homelander exhales sharply through his nose.

You stumble, and before you can tip over, his arms are around you.

“Ohhh, look at you,” you giggle, pressing a hand against his chest. “So strong. So scary.”

You have no fucking idea.

No idea what he had just done.

No idea that the guy you had been batting your pretty little lashes at was lying dead just feet away.

Homelander sighs, shifting his grip so you wouldn’t slip from his arms.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice soft. “Let’s get you home.”

You pout, leaning into him, your forehead pressing against his shoulder.

“You were so mean to me,” you whine, voice muffled against his suit.

His guilt was instant.

God. That guilt again.

He runs a hand over your hair, smoothing it gently.

“I know,” he murmurs. “I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

You sniffle.

He feels like shit.

This was his fault.

But he can fix it.

And he will.

—

Homelander lands softly on the balcony of your apartment, cradling you against his chest. You barely notice—you’re too far gone. Your body limp, your head lolling against his shoulder as pitiful little whimpers slip from your lips.

He hates seeing you like this.

Drunk. Sloppy. Crying.

And the worst part?

He did this to you.

If he hadn’t been such a fucking asshole, if he hadn’t played his stupid little power game, you wouldn’t have ended up at some shitty rooftop party trying to drink yourself numb.

He carries you inside, barely needing to nudge the door open before stepping into the familiar space of your apartment.

You stir slightly as he lowers you onto the couch, groaning softly as you curl into yourself.

“I don’t—” Your breath hitches, your voice cracking as you tried to push yourself up. “I don’t feel good.”

Homelander crouches beside you, brushing your sweaty hair back from your face.

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice unusually gentle. “Just relax.”

But you can’t.

Instead, your whole body jerks as a gag rips from your throat.

Homelander barely has time to react before you vomit.

His eyes widen slightly as you heave onto the floor beside the couch, your whole body shaking.

And instead of feeling disgusted, instead of sneering down at you like he would anyone else—he just wants to help.

This was his fault, after all.

He exhales slowly, forcing himself to focus. “Alright, okay,” he murmurs, reaching for you before you can slump over. “I’ve got you.”

You can’t stop crying now, feeling weak and miserable. Tears slipping down your cheeks as you hiccup through the nausea.

“I—I don’t feel good,” you choke out again, voice small and broken.

God, you sound so helpless.

And that kills him.

“Shhh, I know,” he whispers, carefully gathering your hair, holding it back as you dry-heave again.

You continue to sob, quiet and breathy, barely able to catch your breath between shaky little gasps.

He hates how small you look. How mortal you look in this moment.

His arms tighten around you as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he says. “I’m right here.”

You sniffle, curling into him.

“Why were you so mean to me?”

Homelander closes his eyes briefly, inhaling through his nose.

What is he supposed to say?

Because he’s an idiot?

Because he let himself listen to Sage instead of following his gut?

Because he thought he needed to prove something?

He sighs, adjusting his hold on you.

“Sometimes I’m just mean and scary,” his voice low. “But I’m going to be better for you. I’m sorry.”

And he means it.

You whine softly, fisting his suit as if you’re scared he’s going to leave again.

You sniffle, blinking up at him with glassy, tear-filled eyes.

“I knew…” your lower lip wobbling as you inhale a shuddered breath. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”

Wait.

What?

His eyes widen slightly, heart lurching as your words sink in.

That’s what you thought?

That’s what had been running through your head all fucking day?

Not that he was trying to prove he wasn’t weak.

Not that he was caught up in his own bullshit.

You thought he had thrown you away because of that.

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

Because fuck, what is there to even say?

You aren’t done, though. You let out a shaky breath, another tear slipping down your cheek.

“And after last night,” your voice cracked, “you just… you threw me away like I was used up. Like you got what you wanted, and I was just… nothing.”

Homelander’s heart ached.

You had given him everything.

You had let him have you in a way no one else ever had.

And the very next day?

He shut you out.

And now you were sobbing in his arms, so fucking drunk you probably won’t even remember this in the morning.

There’s no point in explaining. Not now. Not when you’re already slipping in and out of awareness, barely able to keep your eyes open. So instead, he exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair before carefully lifting you into his arms.

“That’s not why, baby,” his voice steady. “I promise.”

Homelander picks you up, tucking you into bed. He smoothes your hair back from your damp forehead.

You let out a tiny, content sigh, your eyes barely fluttering open as you gaze up at him, glassy and unfocused.

“You take such good care of me,” you slur, voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course I do,” he whispers, smoothing your hair back again. “I always will.”

He’ll fix this.

But for now?

For now, he’ll just stay.

—

The Next Morning

You wake up, feeling like death.

Your head is pounding, your mouth is dry, and your stomach is churning like it’s trying to process the poison you drowned yourself in last night.

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut as you bury your face into the pillow.

Never drinking again.

Then—

Something shifts beside you.

You’re not alone.

Slowly, you crack your eyes open—and immediately, your stomach drops.

Homelander sits on the edge of the bed. One leg crossed over the other, arms resting lazily on his knee.

Watching you.

He changed into a fresh suit, looking painfully well-rested. Almost like he hadn’t spent the entire night taking care of your sloppy, disgusting, pathetic drunk ass.

Like he hadn’t listened to you sob and say things you’d rather fucking die than repeat now.

Your face burns.

“Oh my God,” you croak, voice hoarse. You squeeze your eyes shut again, turning away from him.

“Kill me.”

Homelander lets out a low chuckle, the bed dipping slightly as he reaches for something on the nightstand.

“You’re fine, baby,” he reassures. “Here. Drink this.”

A cold glass of water presses against your hand, and you crack one eye open, reluctantly taking it.

You sit up slowly, wincing as your head throbs. You barely manage a sip before setting it back down, groaning as you flop against the pillows.

Homelander hums. “Little too much fun last night?”

You wince.

Fun.

Right.

You rack your brain, trying to piece everything together.

The party.

The drinking.

Lindsay being a bitch.

That guy—Eli?—flirting with you.

The balcony.

The couch.

“You were so mean to me.”

Fuck.

Oh God.

You remember.

Not all of it—not perfectly—but enough.

Enough to make your skin crawl, to make mortification settle deep in your bones.

You had sobbed in front of him.

Had blurted out the most humiliating, pathetic thing possible.

And he heard every word.

You swallow thickly, staring at the ceiling.

“I said some stupid shit last night, didn’t I?”

Homelander is quiet for a moment, and then—

“No. You didn’t.”

You turn your head toward him, brows knitting together. “Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not.” His voice steady, calm. “You weren’t stupid. You’re never stupid.”

You turn away again, covering your face with one hand. “Jesus Christ.”

Homelander sighs. You feel the mattress shift as he leans back, his arm resting along the back of the bedframe.

“You really thought that, huh?” His voice soft now. “That I was disgusted by you?”

You squeeze your eyes shut.

You don’t want to talk about this.

Really don’t want to relive it.

But the silence stretches between you, so thick and heavy. Eventually, you force yourself to nod.

Homelander let’s out a slow breath.

You feel the weight of his gaze, feel the intensity of it, but you refuse to look at him.

“That’s not why,” he said finally. “Not even close.”

You swallow hard, your fingers curling into the sheets.

You lick your lips, forcing yourself to ask. “Then what was it?”

Another pause.

Then—

“Me being a fucking idiot.”

You blink.

That… isn’t what you were expecting.

Slowly, cautiously, you turn your head toward him.

He looks at you, something almost sheepish flickering behind his eyes.

“I got in my head,” he admits, exhaling sharply. “Told myself I needed to prove something. That I was getting too soft. That you were making me weak.” His jaw clenches slightly. “So I shut you out.”

You stare at him, lips slightly parted, processing.

He pushed you away on purpose.

Not because of what you told him.

Not because of your past.

But because he thought you had too much power over him.

Something flickers in your chest—

Anger, frustration, relief. A mess of emotions you can’t untangle.

“I really thought you regretted it,” you admit quietly. “Like, the whole thing. Like I was just—some stupid kid you wanted nothing to do with.”

Homelander’s expression darkens instantly.

“No.” His voice firm, unwavering. He shifts closer, his hand coming to rest on your leg, warm and grounding.

“Never.”

You let out a slow breath, staring down at his hand.

You want to believe him.

And maybe, just maybe… you do.

For a long moment, neither of you say anything.

Then, you break the silence.

“…Can you get me ibuprofen?”

Homelander laughs, low and warm. “Yeah, baby,” he brushes his thumb over your knee before standing, “I can do that.”

You spend most of the morning curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, nursing the worst hangover of your life.

The ibuprofen helped, but the exhaustion clings to you like a fog.

Homelander left an hour ago—some bullshit PR event. Kissing hands, shaking babies. Whatever the hell they made him do to keep up appearances.

“I’ll be back soon, sweetheart,” he had murmured before leaving, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

You weren’t sure how you felt about any of it.

Last night. This morning.

The way he had stayed.

The way he had taken care of you.

Your brain still too fuzzy, too slow to process it all.

So instead, you flip through the channels.

You stop on some local NYC news segment—one of those lifestyle pieces about the hottest new restaurants in the city.

“—a modern twist on French cuisine, featuring a highly curated tasting menu—”

Your fingers toy with the edge of the blanket, your mind drifting, barely listening—

Then, suddenly—

“We interrupt this program for breaking news.”

The screen flickers. A news anchor appears, his face grave, standing in front of a police barricade.

“Authorities are investigating a brutal quadruple homicide after four NYU students were found dead early this morning on a Manhattan rooftop—”

Your heart stops.

The breath in your lungs frozen.

The image on the screen cuts to crime scene tape stretching across a rooftop entrance. A blurred-out section of pavement. Cops milling around.

A grainy, low-quality photo of the victims.

Lindsay.

Eli.

And the two guys she had been with.

Your hands turn ice cold.

“Police have not yet identified a suspect, but they are urging anyone with information to come forward.”

Your heartbeat pounds against your ribs. A slow, sickening dread creeping into your chest.

You don’t need to call the hotline.

You don’t need to hear the details.

You already know.

It was him.

And then, before you can even breathe—

The apartment door opens.

“Miss me?”

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡

tags: @lilyalone @raginginkedslut

[princessbubblegumsstuff]

Late nights – y.j. 

Requested – fluff 4. ,,Shut up and kiss me"

Genre(s): drabble, fluff, established relationship, idol au 

Pairing(s): jeongin x femreader

Warning(s): none

Words: 580

prompt lists (leave requests🩷) 

You have been dating Jeongin for almost a year now. It has been amazing, you two fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle. He understood you on such a level that no one has ever even neared. 

The only problem was his job. You were understanding but not seeing him as much as you’d like was tough. Tough for both of you. It lead to several fights between him and his company, when he begged to take you on tour with them. Fights between him and his members when he came in late because he slept over at your place again. 

And the worst were the comebacks. When he had to work much harder, spend even longer hours at the company and the tour was getting closer and closer. Everyone was stressed and anxious and the fights were always more heated. 

You were always patient with him, trying your best to comfort him whenever he needed or act like his stress reliever. Jeongin loved you for that. He loved that you never added to his stress even when it was hard on you too. Loved that you encouraged his career and never made him feel bad about leaving you. 

So when he came home late one evening, slamming the door behind him loudly, you knew just what to do. He took off his shoes and groaned loudly as he leaned on the wall in the hallway. ,,Baby? Are you okay?” you call for him from the comfort of your warm bed, half asleep before he came in. 

Jeongin rushes to you, sitting on the edge of the bed with a tired expression on his face. ,,Hi, baby” he says and gives you a quick small smile. You sit up, enveloping him in your arms as he rests his head on your chest and lets you cradle him. ,,My poor Innie. You’re tired, aren’t you?” you whisper with a pout and he nods softly. ,,Let’s get you to bed, okay?” 

You help him undress, standing up and taking off his hoodie and t-shirt before you undo his pants and pull them off and his socks after too. you take off all of his accessories, massaging his fingers shortly after you free them. He gives you another tired smile before he flops down against the pillows, pulling you with him. You yelp and giggle as he holds you against his chest tightly. 

,,You should shower, baby. I can draw you a bath if you’d like. And I cooked some dinner before, I should go heat it up for you. You must be hungry. Does your back hurt again? I bought the cream that helped you and I can give you a massage. Or I can-” he cuts you off by slamming his lips against yours as he cups your face with his big hand. You pull away, looking up at him in confusion and he whines. 

,,Shut up and kiss me.” he sighs, a little sparkles in his eyes. ,,I love you, baby. I love how you want to take care of me, but for now just shut up and kiss me, please.” he whispers and you melt in his hold. 

,,Okay” you say before you kiss him again, your lips falling together as if that’s where they should’ve always been. As if they meant nothing when they were apart. Being in his arms felt as if that’s where you were always supposed to be…

[obeymedommc]

Sticker Chart

Obey Me Brothers + Undatebles - Leviathan

18+

In the end you needed to use your pacts to stop the madness that was unleashed from Mammons bragging and truly the only way it stopped was when you promised they could all have a weekend which turned into earning a weekend in order to stop the snowball about Mammons cries of unfairness turning into rivalry between Lucifer and Satan over who could earn it faster. To save face from being ordered around like a common dog by his human Lucifer insisted everyone go back to studying, laying the conversation to rest.. or so you thought...

-----

He didn't really care that the others were playing along with your silly normie chart... at first. About a month after the reveal Mammon had finally earned his weekend with you. Levi had been preoccupied by a new game drop he was gonna stay up for so he only heard about it afterwards when Mammon wouldn't shut up about it

After the first 10 minutes of bragging he had to put down his switch because he couldn't focus. The next 15 minutes led to a boiling stew of jealousy that would have boiled over had Lucifer not told Mammon to shut up and eat his breakfast (Lucifer has been at this long enough to see that and avoid the inevitable and wet mess that would happen otherwise). After breakfast he paced in his room emitting the same aura of a frenzied shark as he seethed to Henry 2.0.

He paced himself into a metronomic state mentally and physically before he started Operation: Level Up to Chart Status!. He started by sending you a text insisting you come to his room for a watch party that night. The minute he got confirmation he was getting a grocery order for snacks and making a nest fit for leveling up seduction

You could tell something was up from how he texted you, so you set about making him as comfortable as possible. Making your way to your room first, you changed into a hoodie you stole from him a while back and some small shorts forgoing undergarments entirely. You threw your strap in a bag with his collar and orange flavored lube and made your way to his room.

He practically threw the door open and snatched you from the hallway, his tail wrapping firmly around your waist with his arms following after. Your presence grounded him in a way that had the cool stuttering breaths slowing as you rocked him back and forth, and you rubbed his back. When you separated enough so you could walk, you complimented the snack collection and cooed at the blanket fort in front of the TV before flopping down on the blankets.

The twinkle lights he had put up provided enough light for you to see the blood rush to his face when you throw a leg over his and kiss his cheek.

'You did all this for our watch night baby this is so pretty!! You're such a good boy I needed a quiet night and you made it so special!!' You held his face and gave him gentle kisses on the lips as you praised him.

---

Leviathans chest felt like he was going to burst from how much warmth and love he saw in your actions, it was almost enough to quell the jealousy that was the catalyst to the night.

'Good enough for a star on my chart?' He slapped a hand over his mouth and hid his face in the pillows he had artfully piled up against his tub.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. This was NOT the plan! He was gonna ask you about it after he had gotten more points ans now his big fat mouth

'No' you said firmly and his mouth dropped open as he gaped at you

'Having a pact with you has made me extremely jealous so a chart isn't good enough. I want you to put them on your monitors so you always see them. But you'll have to earn it tonight. What do you think baby?'

He shivered and his tail pulled you closer to him as he nodded fiercely, breath quickening as his frantic brain processed what you said

'Y-yeah, yeah, want that, wanna earn it, be good for you p-please, be your good boy!' His squirming lead him to rubbing against your thigh and his tail wrapping around your thigh just high enough that you could feel it squeezing past you at the same rate as his hips. Before the heady feeling could take you over you had to focus.

You were really proud of how he had gotten the courage to ask for something he wanted and truly you wanted him to be proud of earning it too. You held his hips down, gripping his soft waist hard enough to bruise the way he likes. You kissed his whines away softly and giggled when he chased after your lips as you pulled away.

'You still have to earn it sweet thing.' You kissed his neck gently and bit down softly

'Y-yeah, earn it, for you, wanna-' he let out a high pitched whine as you put your hand in his pants roughly, grabbing at his dick and giving a gentle squeeze that had his whole body curling around your hand

You kissed his jaw as you saw his desperate eyes take in the smirk that spelled danger for the night ahead of him

'I'm gonna edge you as we watch pretty boy, you're gonna tell me when you're gonna cum, and however many episodes we get through is how many times you have to make me cum before your release.' You kiss him slow and sloppy as you stroke him, smiling when he whines and grabs your hand to ground himself

'What do you say pretty boy? I know it's a hard task but it's nothing my pro gamer can't handle right.'

He nodded, trying to catch his breath as he tried to focus his eyes on your face. 'I c-can, can be your good boy, can do it for you'

'MY good boy' you repeat and kiss his jaw, pressing the remote into his other hand to let him put on the show that would watch his struggle

---------

Don't steal my shit dude I'm already struggling

[ihauvescurvy]

Some ideas on a joplittle office AU that have been percolating in my brain for weeks but I’ve been further inspired by @falling-through-a-trapdoor ‘s nedward karaoke post. So….

Ned and the other lieutenants are program or project managers. Ned manages one program arm and Gore the other, with the other lieuts as project managers under each of them.

Franklin, Crozier, and Fitzjames are all upper management, and their toxic dynamic is deeply obvious to the whole team. Maybe Franklin gets unexpectedly fired for embezzlement or something crazy and throws the whole office into turmoil, idk.

To get a Ned-Crozier dynamic that fits the vibes and this setting, I feel like Ned should be a good manager, but has been recently working in a totally different workplace culture than the one Francis has going and is deeply thrown off by it. I can’t decide if it makes more sense for Ned to be coming from buttoned-up corporate and feeling adrift in lax non-profit world or the other way around.

Jopson is of course Crozier’s administrative assistant, and absolutely runs that office. Nothing would work without him and everyone knows that. Hickey calls him a secretary bc he thinks that would be insulting.

Because Ned is so out of his element with Crozier and his new environment (and his anxiety), he has some shitty meetings with crozier that stress him out. He really takes notice of how competent Jopson is, how much Crozier respects him, and really immediately respects him himself because of his competence.

Jopson also notices the tension between Ned and Francis, and wants to fix that because he’s a fixer at heart. He pulls Ned aside after one of those meetings to reassure him that Crozier does like him, he just prefers a more direct style of communication.

Ned seeks Jopson out for advice before future meetings to get his help with how to best present the info, what level of detail Crozier wants, etc.

Ned gets blasted at an office happy hour a few months into working there because he keeps taking gulps of his drinks when he’s nervous and he hasn’t really drank since he started an SSRI so he doesn’t realize his tolerance is different.

I think George is the one who picked a karaoke bar for the happy hour, but Gore is the one who pulls Ned up with him to sing something. Dundy immediately gets his phone out to record lol.

Then we get Ned scream-singing Mr. Brightside with his co-worker, sleeves of his button-up rolled up and top buttons undone, sweaty hair flopping in his face while he bangs his head. Jopson watches by the bar with an absolute death grip on his glass because the view is…inspiring.

The next day (because of course happy hour was like a Wednesday or something), Ned is terribly hungover and sitting mortified at his desk after Dundy sends the video to the company slack, prompting a few more pics from other angles sent by Ned’s subordinates.

Jopson stops by his desk, though, with a coffee (takeout from a cafe, not the shitty break room stuff) and some pain killers. He says the cafe got his order wrong (a lie) and he thought Ned would appreciate the caffeine after such a wonderful impassioned performance last night. Ned is so starry-eyed until he realized Jopson might be making fun of him, and then he spirals about it all day.

He eventually runs into Jopson in the break room and thanks him for being so thoughtful after he made a fool of himself last night. Jopson grabs Ned’s arm when he laughs and tells him he really did love his performance, and that he wishes he could see that side of him more. Ned full blue-screens and somehow asks him out to dinner after work 💕