#ask box drabbles

[zephyrchama]

Lucifer looked overly pleased. He turned the present in his hand over for the fifth time with an incredibly smug, self-assured smirk on his face.

"This is for me, is it?" It was neither his birthday nor a holiday. He had been quite surprised when you burst into his office and laid the decorative bundle on his desk. It was taped poorly and the wrapping paper was a recycled brown paper bag, yet the simple fact that you were thinking about him made his pride swell to dangerous levels.

"Yes," you told him. "Please make good use of it. Please."

With an arrogant little "heh," he opened the gift. Inside was a long length of thick rope, freshly purchased from a hardware store that morning. It was sturdy and a little coarse. It looked like it was made for boating purposes.

"What is this?" Lucifer examined it by tugging at the ends until it was taut. He looked ready to whip the next person to walk into his office. "Is this your way of asking to spend more time with me? I always thought you were more of a silk ribbon perso-"

"No!" You interrupted his detailed speculation by slamming a hand on the corner of the desk. It stung a little. Of course Lucifer would misunderstand your intentions, but that was exactly why you had to clear things up. "I need you to stop tying Mammon up with the ethernet cord."

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. You didn't like the way he was gliding his gloved thumb over the rope.

"You leave him tied up for hours," you continued, "and the WiFi stops working. I have to go to the observatory when that happens and stand by the windows and wave my D.D.D. around for data to work. So, Lucifer. Please? Won't you use this instead?"

You put your hand on top of his in a bold power play. Maybe he would feel your sincerity. Combined with big puppy eyes and a little head tilt, you felt this plan had a 65% chance of working.

[zevrra]

thinking about jerking Vik off till he cries and can't think he's such a smart man with so much on his mind all the time he deserves a break where he doesn't have to think AND IM WILLING TO GIVE IT TO HIM..- ram-anon

includes: giving viktor a ‘helping hand’ [mdni, smüt, händjob, öral (m receiving)]

ft. bottom!viktor x gn!reader

extra: RAAA!! thank you for this juicy request i loved writing it so much like breathless, whiney viktor AAA SAVE MEEE!! anyway thank you for the thought i loved this so much kshdkh

you could tell how frustrated viktor had been recently. from the countless nights of sleeping at the lab to the several crumpled up pieces of paper spread along his desk; he was struggling with his latest project. but unfortunately that came with him not sleeping for days— which left you just as frustrated as he was. but when you finally managed to rip viktor away from his work, just long enough to go home and change, possibly eat something, you were reluctant to let him go back to the lab. and the only way you could get him to relax and turn that big brain of his off was to force him to think about only you.

so, after his shower you force him to sit down in a chair in your shared home, planting kisses along his body while you adjust his legs to lay more comfortably for what you had planned.

“my love, what are you doing?” viktor sighs, running a hand across his face as he melts into the chair even though he really shouldn’t. “i need to get back to the lab.”

“nuh uh, you’re going to sit there and relax.” you order with a slight smile. your hands running down the front of his chest and down his thighs, making a slow descent in between his parted legs.

vik lifts an eyebrow at you as you speak, not really understanding what you mean by ‘relax’. you’re unraveling his towel from his thin waist while vik watches on with a tired gaze. and it must have been the several sleepless nights stuck at the lab to cause him to process this so slowly because it takes you fully wrapping a hand around his soft shaft before he even reacts to what you’re doing. his droopy, exhausted eyes fly open wide as your fingers softly grasp around him.

he is definitely awake now. good.

“no more work. no more lab. you need to take a break, v. think of me and only me. right here, right now.” you instruct the man, effortlessly cutting him off before he could protest you, while slowly stroking up towards his head. in response vik sucks a tight breath in through his clenched teeth, amber eyes settling on you in a look of slight irritation. not to worry though, his gaze would quickly soften as time went on for you two; soon he’d look upon you with pleasure in those pretty eyes of his.

unsurprisingly it only takes a few strokes to make vik fully hard. it was all but a simple thumb press against the slit of his head, sliding your fingers across his sensitive tip, before stroking down his shaft to turn him into putty in the palm of your hand; while his own fingers grip the arms of the chair. he groans, eyes fluttering as you press your thumb against his sensitive tip again. soaking in every moan that slips past his lips as your hand jerks him off. stroking him from base to tip, slow and steady, planting kisses along his left knee and thigh.

you move your hand faster at vik‘s sweet moans. taking a second to glance up at his pretty face as he turns bright red, even to the tips of his ears, as he tries his best to look at you through the pleasure.

“you’re so pretty viktor.” you praise against his knee as your hand moves faster. sliding your free hand to grab the base of his cock while your other hand moves faster against his sensitive head, smearing precum every which way.

vik whimpers at your touch and your words. his body tensens as you use both hands along his shaft. his breath hitches in his throat with another whimper, tears clinging to his pretty eyelashes as your hand rubs over his sensitive tip again and again. god, he looked so good like this. under your work, head tilted back, fingers trembling, struggling to sit still, slipping in his chair, and whimpering your name like a prayer.

you needed to get him out of that damn lab more often.

your mouth waters at the sight of the man before you. you lean forward, spit rolling off your tongue and dripping onto the slit of his head before you follow its path and slip him into your mouth.

“d-darling!” vik cries, thrusting his hips upwards and forcing more of himself into your mouth. you take him with ease as he practically fucks himself into your mouth now.

he’s rapidly coming undone now. his fingers manage to tangle into your hair while his hips move erratically. you suck harshly when his cock hits the back of your throat, spit slipping down your chin, causing vik to moan your name.

oh he’s so pathetic and sweet like this. rutting helplessly into your mouth, slipping in the chair he sits in because he’s so eager to come; mind blank with only the thought of how good your mouth feels.

“mmph! i can’t, please!” viktor sobs. his mouth falling open with sinful moans and whimpers. his pretty eyes fall close as he whines your name again and again, chest heaving with every breath he semi-struggles to take as his orgasm burns through his entire being. “coming!” the words slip off his lips with little warning as his climax surges through him. his back arches slightly, forcing the rest of his cock into your throat as he comes.

you keep your mouth wrapped around him until he finally stops moving and his hips do not falter or stop until he’s entirely spent. you take every drop he spills before he begins to whine from overstimulation; so you slip your lips from his cöck but keep your hand slowly stroking along his shaft.

“do you still want to go back to the lab or should we just keep going?” you ask devilishly, smiling up at viktor’s blushing face.

he blinks in his dazed, post-orgasm state but manages to shyly nod in response. “i want to keep going.” he mutters.

good thing you had already planned to keep going. nothing would stop you from pleasing him so he could forget all of his worries.

[palmerzy]

Hi, I loved your recent Spencer Reid blurb, I was wondering if you would do another nsfw blurb with sub Spence and maybe some Somno?? Like he can’t help himself when he’s so tired and he barely realises what he’s doing? 🫶🫶

hey anon, thanks for requesting! i wasn’t totally sure if you meant reader to spencer or spencer to reader, so i went for the latter - i hope that’s okay! if that’s not what you meant, feel free to send another ask and i’ll appease that <3 for now, please enjoy!

NSFW! - explicit sexual themes, incl. somnophilia. read at your own discretion.

spencer would be coming home late from a case, and he’s just desperate to spend some time with you - to spend some time inside of you.

his face falls when he pushes open the door to his bedroom, seeing your sleeping form already knocked out on his bed, and he internally chides himself for staying behind at the bau longer than he should have. now, his girlfriend is passed out, and he’s sporting a hard on - the taunting punishment for daydreaming on his journey home.

as a responsible man, somewhat, he grumbles to himself but gets ready for bed nonetheless, pouting at the thought of having to go to sleep without being able to share the night with you, knowing it’s his own fault.

he’d climb into bed beside you, narrowing his eyes at the sight of you in just your panties and one of his button ups, like you’re literally messing with him in your sleep. a defeated sigh passes his lips, and he snuggles up against you, his chest against your back as he wills sleep to take him before his thoughts wander too far.

of course, sleep doesn’t take him. not when he can feel you shifting in your unconscious state, your ass pressing just perfectly against his hard-on, something you’re blissfully unaware of. he tells himself he can’t wake you up, not for an issue as small as his petulant neediness.

and yet, spencer recalls a conversation in which you’d told him you wouldn’t mind being woken up with his head between your thighs, or with the tip of his cock nudging against your entrance. well - you’d said it a lot more innocent than that, but he knew the implications. he knows what you’d meant, and he finds himself questioning his morals with how he’s considering it.

in his mind, he draws it up to him simply being tired and needy. he’s been at work all day, barely able to talk to you, and then he comes home to find you asleep. he can’t help feeling a little down, a little pouty, and a little bit guilty as he reaches down between your bodies to pull your panties aside.

he waits for a reaction, and even when he gets none, he perseveres. a finger dips beneath your folds, testing the waters, and his slightly drowsy mind is elated to find you just about wet enough for him. you’ve been wetter, sure, but he knows you’re sleeping, your body isn’t anticipating him. that’s what you wanted, right? to be woken up by him? he’s just providing his partner with what they’d wanted. he’s a good boyfriend.

his mind is a blur when he tugs his pyjama pants down and pushes forward, eyes rolling back when he sinks into your warmth, your body involuntarily clenching around him.

with furrowed brows, he studies your body, waiting for you to stir awake. he’s silently begging for you to wake up so he can continue, so he can have his fill of you and then the both of you can get some sleep.

when you don’t, he stills, keeping himself sheathed within you. he’s at war with his mind, debating on whether or not to keep going. he knows he’s not in his right mind, not with how tired he is after a long days work. he should pull out and just go take care of himself.

but he doesn’t, and it’s not long before he’s slowly thrusting up into you, biting down on his bottom lip to muffle his whines. he’s not a massive fan of taking you from behind, he likes to see your face, but he has no choice here - spooning you as he gently grasps your hip, his cock half submerged into your unknowing body.

he continues like that for at least a minute, muffled gasps and whimpers passing his pursed lips as he shallowly dips into you over and over, refusing to come from his invasion. he wants you to wake up, he really does, yet he can’t deny how good it feels to be able to satisfy himself with your body like this, and he finds his guilt rising more with each second.

when you finally awaken, his face lights up, his cock stilling and feeling your pussy clench around him, as if pulling him further in. “spence?” you’d mumble ever so quietly, and he swears he could’ve come just from the sound. he’d nod slowly, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder, whispering sweet apologies. “‘m so sorry,” “couldn’t help myself, i tried- mmph, i really tried,” “is this okay? please tell me it’s okay,” he’d whimper over and over, until you were nodding, telling him you were going back to sleep and allowing you to find his own pleasure, finally pressing his cock as deep as he’d originally wanted to, guilt washed away.

askbox open, come talk to me about spence <3

[octoberautumnbox]

Lips

Jo Yuri, IVE Ahn Yujin, IVE Jang Wonyoung, & Male Reader

a/n: idk blame frisky :nolookk:

~~~

You struggle against the makeshift shackles, your wrists taking on a light shade of red from the friction between the cloth restraints and the wooden armrests you're bound to. The top of the blindfold sips up your sweat, although it also distributes the salt over your eyelids as well. 

The hand on your cock momentarily leaves you, soon replaced by a pair of lips on either side of your shaft. Two tongues work eagerly to lick each other with your dick in between, all the while hushed, breathy moans emanate from their respective owners. The left pair of lips peppers tiny kisses up and down your length, while the right goes lower to the base of your cock and sucks your balls. 

You steady your breathing. It’s unknowable how much time has passed, though you wish it’s been the agreed-upon ten minutes and the girls are just toying with you. You try remembering how you got into this situation, but the tongue dragging itself up the underside of your cock clouds your mind and renders you useless, save for your base instincts wanting what either of them are giving you.

A set of long, slender fingers wraps around your shaft again, diligently pumping slow and hard, while the left repositions to pay special attention to your tip. Her tongue pokes out and swirls around the head, slathering her spit all over the tip and dripping down the rest of your length, only to make the handjob below slicker. 

“Oppa,” Yuri says, gently caressing your blindfold, “are you doing okay?”

“Mmh,” you say back, your loose makeshift gag failing at being a gag, but working wonders to help delay your orgasm. The flimsy cloth between your teeth steadily disintegrates each time you bite down, all the while you feel your knuckles turn white as you grip the wood harder in your palms. 

“You're doing great, Oppa, five more minutes.” Yuri's voice is like mad honey in your ears, dripping with a wild sweetness and venom that intoxicates but never kills. Two pairs of hands on your legs as the girls go back to worshipping your cock, coating your length in generous amounts of spit mixing together as they make out with you in between. 

Your breaths come shallow and urgent and desperate, just like the hand pumping your cock. You wouldn't dare guess now–not when you're so close to winning anyway. 

“Hands off, girls. Give him a second to breathe,” Yuri's voice calls from right next to your head. In less than a second, the pleasure stops, leaving only ghosts: lazily drying saliva on a now freezing, throbbing cock. You hear quiet smacks of lips against each other, or against the other's, no doubt licking up any stray drops of your precum to share between themselves. 

“If you wanted to make a guess, now would be the time,” Yuri finally muses after what felt like ages of drought. She says it in a way that coaxes out your bravery, though you know it's nothing but a trap. You have no way of knowing, no way of winning: wrong or right doesn't exist when Jo Yuri holds both in the palm of her hand. 

“... Left?” Her question strikes a chord in your chest anyway, tossing a wrench in your initial plans of just toughing it out. The hand returns with a renewed fervor, offering a devoted blowjob to speed up your decision. She rubs her tongue all along your length hastily, forcing an orgasm and their decisive victory. You could almost feel the threads of your gag tear apart between your teeth, but she stops just in time, leaving you less than breathless and more than willing to just surrender right then and there. A second more of the torture would've sent you barreling over the edge, but Yuri must have known not to push you that far. The girl by your lap to the left stops, most probably under Yuri's command, and the moment of reprieve is golden. 

“... Right?” Yuri's voice disappears as quickly as it arrives, and the girl on the other side of your lap takes your cock in up to her throat. She struggles with your length, caring more to take as much of you into her needy mouth as she can, rather than servicing you. Her blowjob is sloppy and careless, and the way her throat squeezes around your shaft is nothing short of heaven, though you know it's only an act to get you comfy enough to give up. Your orgasm nearly builds to its peak, but she stops again just in the nick of time, waved off again by Yuri's command. 

“Oppa, it's not fun if you don't guess… Hurry up,” she teases from behind you again. Her arms wrap around your chest while you feel her daintily pulling at your gag, taking it off. “We won't bite even if you get it wrong, I promise…”

What happens next is like a thunderclap right before an oncoming storm: a knock on the door followed by a muffled “Miss Jo, Miss Ahn, Miss Jang, please get ready to come to the main event area. We'll fetch you shortly.” And your suspicion is confirmed: Yuri kept you here for an hour. 

“Ehehe, oops. Sorry Oppa,” she giggles, tugging your gag away. You notice the shuffling of feet around you, no doubt the other two getting up off the floor while giggling as quietly as they can. She attempts to take your blindfold off too, but not before you jump at the chance to guess:

“Left… Wonyoung.” The world stops as you say it, and it's a good couple seconds before anyone can say anything else. The next line has no need to be said, but you take it anyway: “Right… Yujin.”

You know Yuri's sigh like the back of your hand; it's the one that she lets out while a quiet smile graces her lips. You hear it when you first kiss her neck at the start of a wild night, when you wrap your arm around her at the end before drifting to sleep, whenever she loses one of her little bets with you. 

She walks over to your front, and a small thud on the carpet means she's knelt down. Unmistakable are her full, plump lips on your shaft, her tiny hands on your thighs. She takes you into her mouth herself, accepting defeat like it was destined from the start. 

Your wrists are set free at the same time, and your blindfold is finally pulled off. What greets you first is not the dim light of the green room, not the sweet scents of Wonyoung to your left and Yujin to your right. What draws your attention is Yuri, on her knees, in her pretty white dress that shows off her cleavage like no other, taking your cock like she always does, and a little more: shameless, needy, and, this time, proud.

“Unnie, how’d he know?” Wonyoung asks with a naïve sort of innocence, like she didn't just take part in Yuri's little game. She places a hand on your chest from behind, feeling your heart beat out of your chest as the girl of your dreams sucks you off. 

“Lucky guess, probably,” Yujin answers, knowing Yuri would do anything to not be interrupted from sucking off her either smart or lucky, or both, boyfriend. Yujin drapes an arm around your chest, wrapping you in a hug, as the three of you watch their beloved unnie work her magic. 

All at once, the pressure peaks, your dam breaks, and Yuri knows it all: the two girls hold you back from pushing Yuri off, while she takes you into her throat as far as she can. Her throat squeezes and constricts in all the best ways, like the two of you know you were made for each other. She hollows out her cheeks, waiting impatiently, and her little game finally pays off. 

Your cum shoots out into her throat in generous spurts, and she takes it all; you relish in how her throat clenches around your cock, almost like she does it on purpose. Her tongue works to rub the underside of your cock wherever she can reach, all the while her head bobs up and down while she keeps sucking like it’s the one thing keeping her alive. You swear you’ll never find a girl like her ever again, and with how she shoots a look up to you, that signature mischievous look in her eye, you know the feeling is mutual. 

She takes each spurt like a champ, helping you through your release. Each load makes its way down her throat as the rhythmic gluck-gluck-gluck takes over your ears. She takes up every thought in your head, every emotion in your heart; you’re the one forcing your cock down her sinful throat yet she’s the one pulling your strings, as well as those of the two sultry vixens on either side of you. She winks a dangerous wink, and Yujin takes your lips with hers, with Wonyoung following with a trail of kisses along the vein in your neck. 

Once it’s all over and your orgasm dies down, Yuri returns you your peace: she pulls herself off without much issue, though she reaches for a nearby water to help everything down. Her smile never leaves her, and she watches for just a second how her dongsaengs shower you with her secondhand love.

“Alright, leave him alone. We gotta go,” she commands one last time, and Yujin practically tears herself off your face without so much as a hint of regret. Wonyoung is slower to detach, missing the way you twitched against her lips, all the while building excitement for what’s to come. 

“See you later, Oppa,” Wonyoung waves as she makes her way over to the door. She eyes Yujin still face to face with you, and Yujin comes back in for the last bit of tongue she can steal before joining Wonyoung at the door. “I hope you saved some for us, Oppa,” she taunts, and Yuri hands her her lipstick. The two leave together as if nothing happened in the green room, and if you really think about it, did anything happen in the green room?

Yuri finally comes over to you and sits on your lap, taking care not to stimulate you any further than she needs to. “You held out for ten minutes–” “An hour,” you interject, and she giggles as if it absolves her of not holding up her end of the deal. 

“For an hour, but you know I love you, right? And don’t tell me it wasn’t good.” Yuri wraps her arms around your neck and leans on your shoulder, taking comfort as if taking her time and taking your cum wasn’t enough. “And, let’s see… You guessed right. How did you know?”

“I… didn’t? How could I know? Besides, you would’ve cheated and told me I was wrong anyway.”

“Mm, sure, whatever you say,” she says as she plants a loving kiss on your cheek. 

“Wait… was I right?”

The same muffled voice from outside interrupts again, “Miss Jo, please come to the main area now, we can’t afford to wait any longer.” She shoots you a playful look, “I’ll tell you everything later, Oppa, I promise.” She hops off your lap and leaves for the stage as well, and you’re left with nothing but makeshift rags, an empty green room, and a promise for the foursome of a lifetime.

~~~

[dendroseelie]

hello!! can i pls request a xiao drabble or one-shot (whatever works for you) like its late at night and xiao sneaks in after a particularly bad night and reader just holds him?

it's like you feel him in the throes of your sleep. you stir, the cool breeze gently caressing your skin. you're facing away from the window when you wake up and you turn over to find xiao by your bed. he's sat on the floor, head in his arms as his tired eyes look up at you.

"xiao..." your words are quiet. for a moment you think it gets lost in the darkness of the night but then he closes his eyes. and a tear follows, glistening upon his porcelain skin like a pearl.

the moonlight filters into your room in flutters as the curtain dances with the breeze. you try again. "xiao..."

you're sitting up now, hands reaching out for your lover. your fingers find their way into his face. at the very first touch of your fingers, xiao shivers and then he breaks, quiet sobs wracking through him.

"my love," you whisper, trying to get him off his knees but he doesn't get up. instead, he looks up. his eyes are bloodshot, pale skin flushed cherry.

"i have failed them all. i have failed everyone." there is a quiver in his voice that no one else has ever been privy to.

"you have not," you argue. "you have loved and you have lost. wars are cruel. even to a yaksha such as yourself, my alatus."

in a beat - one xiao might consider a moment of weakness. but one you consider a step to kindness toward himself - xiao rests his head upon your thighs, his arms circle around you waist. your fingers are in his hair, at the nape of his neck. you give a squeeze, and he melts into you.

"you are a warrior, my love. but you are not the enemy."

you lean down pressing a kiss into his hair. and for the first time in a while, xiao feels like the air has finally entered his lungs.

wrote this very quickly and its not proofread lol hope you like it anon <333

[yearninflowers]

Imagine...

Anaxa, someone you've gotten to know after one fateful meeting, has begun to grow on you little by little. Although those accidental meetups seem to happen quite frequently nowadays, you enjoy them all the same. He is quite the entertainer, after all. Equipped with various knowledge over life and his rather spicy attitude, he captured your eyes in the heat of prohibition and curiosity. He seemed to shine, somehow, in his own way. How could one be so confident with their belief and never falter? Whatever is fuelling his own devoutness—you wanted to ask—what does it take to be utterly devoted (to all his research) yet empty of faith like him?

The contradiction that lies beneath his impassive face could make anyone who notices laugh amusingly. Anaxa has always been a person who based his judgement on facts, and more often than not, ones he experienced himself. He does not believe, nor does he trust, an existence he could not grasp. It lacks a reason, he would say. Perhaps linking feelings with mindful comprehension has always been a stupid decision, yet he, a person who has never known of such intensity, does it all continuously. Such complexity is gathered to be one thing: devotion. And Anaxa, no matter how long he tried to search, could never have its truest form, faith.

A scholar's mind is to enquire about every little thing the world has to offer and speak of the truth that prevailed. Being one himself, Anaxa tries to do so as well. Questioning, denying, defending—he does it all easily. It comes like second nature to him. However, proving something that cannot be seen by the eyes is harder to do, even for someone as capable as Anaxa. He won't lie, though; the effect of believing said unseen thing is as real as it can be, yet proving its existence has always remained impossible to do. After all, what can you unveil to the world when the object itself is unknown?

So, he deems whatever faith lies upon someone; it is not equivalent to being real and only an effect of illusory belief. But that is what feelings are too, isn't it? An intense effect which stemmed from within the heart yet hidden deep inside the flesh of a soul. It cannot be proven, nor it can be seen, but it would always be there, haunting the bodies that bear the weight.

And for once in his life, something stirred itself inside Anaxa. Something ugly, he feared. The way his hands would tremble, fearing the ugliness of what he could do, made him disgusted with himself. How could someone as him be affected with something he could not foresee? Or an easier way to say, you. How could you, a stranger with no strings attached to any of the Chrysos Heirs, make his mind go numb? You, an ordinary citizen living in Amphoreus, had successfully done something many others had failed to do. You made him feel this absurdly warm feeling, and he could, for once, never figure out why something had happened.

Anaxa pondered for days upon days to search for the reason. He studied your movement almost daily, arranging coincidental meetings with a bump on the shoulder or even a short visit to a place you frequented. He thinks you must've noticed, but no words have been spoken over the increased bonding time. Perhaps you had never known that Anaxa has been watching you, studying you to the point of dissecting you apart inside his mind every time your eyes met. Perhaps you never noticed him just as he noticed you, deeply and obsessively.

Sometimes, it frustrates him. It feels as if all the observation he did had amounted to nothing. What else—just how—no, what will—argh, Anaxa feels the need to rip you apart, taking out everything to search for his selfish need. Will after opening the mystery box make him understand his concerning devotion? Has he finally succeeded in attaining what people often called faith? But has faith always felt so covetous? Is it not filled with belief that stemmed from one's pure love? This does not feel like its description to Anaxa. Whatever it is, it feels disgusting.

Yet it feels so amazing too. For once in all his time in the world, he feels whole—too full, even. However, the question still remains. For something as unreal as faith to fill Anaxa, The Heretic, just who are you to attain such a feat?

He now often wonders, is it you or him that made him feel the impossible? If it is him, then what is the fuel to his interest? Is it the curiosity of a human? Or could it be something entirely different? As a person, he'll gladly let it all flow. After all, feelings are as normal as they can be for people. But as a scholar, he is bound to question it nonetheless. As he said, a scholar's mind is to question everything, even if the subject is an obsession.

However, if it is you. Anaxa will still try to find the reason that makes you twinkle in his eyes. He'll do whatever it takes—even if it means scrapping you until the very last end of your being—to find out why. As someone who sees the world as an abundance of knowledge to be discovered, Anaxa will stop at nothing to find and prove it. Frankly, even if he thinks he's at fault for the sudden change in him, it will still lead to the same conclusion: examining you.

So, to make everything easier, as his new subject of interest, won't you let him search every inch of yourself and help unveil the truth? He can't ever help it anymore—the disgust and the curiosity keep on killing him from the inside, yet it makes him so full and so happy.

At least, for his sake, do it, yeah? Aren't you a very curious person as well? To mingle with such a person, amazed by his antics and abilities, and even seeking him out yourself—he knows you 'love' him too.

[fbfh]

you know what I'm thinking about?? beck oliver. yeah the one from victorious first of all FUCK YOU dan schneider and I'm specifically thinking about this clip from the episode where they try to make a reality show about their high school 0:31

I really hate that beck is one of those characters like lucas friar and tristin dugray where we simply do not get more clarity on them as a person. one of the few times we get to see beck really open up and talk about WHY he's so passionate about acting and it's immediately cut off and overshadowed by how he looks. dare I say he has elle woods syndrome. "beck and jade are toxic" "beck should date cat" "beck and robbie fuck" yeah yeah you know what he REALLY NEEDS????? he needs someone that does not give a single fuck about how he looks. he needs someone who prioritizes HIM instead of his hair. yes he's pretty and he has nice hair but those are all sprinkles. he needs somone who cares about the rest of the cupcake, not just the decorations. I think the reason he thinks he likes angry girls who yell and fight with him all the time is because when he and jade fight she's yelling at him about anything other than his hair. he needs a break from constantly being objectified is my point. you know what would be great?? beck dating a screenwriter. someone who works on the scripts for the hollywood arts shows they put on. someone who hunts him down in the halls looking like they rolled out of a dumpster with sikowitz and reeks of coffee because they've been up for 36 hours to meet their deadline and finish their homework.

you are just that. you do other stuff at hollywood arts too, but there's really not a lot of script writers there, so you've found a way to pretty much corner the market and it looks FANTASTIC on your student transcript, plus you get extra credit for it, which is even better. you're wearing a hoodie that looks like you slept in it for two days (true if you had slept at all) and you're not aware of the two or three empty jet brew cups shoved into your hoodie pocket, plus the extra one you're carrying that you're almost done with.

"Beck!"

you manage to startle him a little which is surprising because he is totally unscareable. he doesn't think you've ever exchanged two words before now, he doesn't even know if he knows your name.

"I need to talk to you," you pant, a little delerious from caffeine and sleep depravation and excitement. "I finished the script for the next play-"

Beck didn't realize that a student was writing any of the shows they put on, he thought they were all lisenced or from local writers.

"It's a dystopian retelling of frankenstein with- with cyberpunk influences," you ramble, "and I need to know if you're okay playing the lead." you pant, still trying to catch your breath and not lose your train of thought.

"some pretty fucked up stuff happens and you'd have to quickly lose your morals and go from morally gray to kind of antagonistic pretty quickly..." you look up at him and hand him a script full of sticky flags. "I wanna make sure there's nothing that'll make you too uncomfortable... like I said it gets pretty fucked up, but I wrote it with you in mind for the doctor, so- just, let me know what you think."

before he can answer, you trudge into the janitor's closet and fall asleep on top of a pile of paper towels.

Beck takes the script home to look over, and he's genuinely surprised for a number of reasons. he expected to be typecast as the love interest yet again, but you want him as the antagonistic lead. it's a really complex role, and has absolutley nothing to do with how he looks. you even left a sticky note in there by accident, and he reads your scribbled handwriting. doc MUST be smwn who fully commits and dgaf if it makes them look bad or silly or unattractive. if they get self consious it ruins the char

underneith are two or three names scribbled out, then his, underlined several times. he is so genuinely shocked by this decision, and absolutely fascenated by your script. he's actually getting really excited to play a role that will challenge him for once.

the next day he meets you with the script tucked under one arm and a coffee in each hand. he hands one to you, and you thank him with a pleasantly surprised smile.

"You seem like you could use it."

"That's putting it mildly..." you mutter in agreement, and he bites back a chuckle when you remove the lid and down half the cup at once. You look at him anxiously after that, and your eyes flit between him and your script. "So... what did you think?"

"I... accept." relief floods through you. "I've already been thinking about my character and going over my lines. But why did you want me for Victor?"

You shrug a little.

"Well, you got the script like, 12 hours ago and you're already developing your portrayal of him, so that's a pretty good reason there," you chuckle, "and I... I hope this doesn't sound mean, but I don't think there are a lot of other people here who could pull off such a complex antagonistic main character."

you state, taking another sip of coffee.

"Everyone here is great, really-" you emphasize, hoping you don't sound like a dick. "I just feel like no one else could really bring the depth to him that you could. He's a horrible person, but I still want the audience to sympathize with him at times, and go wow he's a fucked up asshole at others without making it feel disjointed. I think you're really the only one who has the skills to pull that off."

honestly, if Beck had slightly less self control he would have started wailing and sobbing right then. Instead, he's determined to live up to your expectations and prove to you that your faith in him will pay off. You work pretty closley with production of the show, and with Beck. after closing night, you and Beck are still pretty close, to your pleasant surprise. his friends are a little curious why Beck suddenly is spending all his free time with one of those kids in their class who never talks or says anything, but he seems... happy. he did in fact fall first, and he definitely fell harder. he falls even more when months pass and he realizes you are still too adorably oblivious to realize how he feels.

[lustjunkiie]

Love your writing style

Tf 141 x reader whos footsteps dont make sounds. Scaring the fuck out of everyone, needing to wear a bell on their boots when at the base and being sneakily deadly in the battlefield

This is so cute!! Toothrotting fluff, angels!

I made this into pranks and hijinks, and some Price x Fem!Reader towards the end, luvvie, I hope that’s okay! <3

If this isn’t what you wanted, feel free to send me another ask and be like “Hey, Mrs. Beth! That was cute and all… but not really what I asked for!” While I love to write for myself, I open up my ask box so you lovely people can experience my writing as well.

Forever tailored to you,

Mrs. Beth.

Truth be told, you were Price’s favorite. His prized girl. Among the TF141, everybody knew it. Even if nobody said anything. Lingering glances from Price as you swayed around in your civvies, a dress brushing along your thighs and barely reaching your knees. A firm fist planted along his leg while he held back from proposing.

Everybody loved you. Maybe not the recruits, so much, when you tore them a new one for their lack of respect and discipline, but the boys loved you. Simon loved how you cuddled to his side when you were just too cold to be in your room. And Johnny loved how you constantly matched his energy and would always bounce off the walls with him. And Kyle loved the brightness. The constant pep in your step even after all you had seen on the battlefield. Your immense ability to separate work and life.

But, what these four loved even more? How you would let your guard down with them. Silly little lamb, thinking she was safe from the hijinks of her best-friends. And how sneaky they were about to be. Making no noise with their boots.

Simon, his moniker indicative of his love for stealth, loved to piss you off by scaring you. Knowing you didn’t expect anything to be happening, you would just stop listening. Stop asininely surveying your surroundings and just let your brain turn off. It didn’t help that Simon was trained to make no noise when he walked. No noise when he did anything at all. So, a few times a day, the entire base would hear a scream like someone had been murdered. And honestly? I think the victim was your ego.

Johnny scared the piss out of you too, unfortunately in a literate sense at one point, but he would go about it differently. Hiding under blankets and throw pillows and waiting for you to sit on the couch before grabbing onto your arm or leg and causing you to flail off the couch like a fish out of water. Giggling until he tears a stitch in his side.

Kyle pranks you with food, making you coffee or tea with an extra scoop or an extra bag and acting clueless when you ask why it’s so strong. Or making you Oreo’s with toothpaste in the middle. And subsequently being confused when you enjoy it more than a regular Oreo… or swapping all the food in the fridge for plastic baby food, thinking it’s the most hilarious thing he’s ever done.

And Price pranks you too, but you’re his favorite. So while he does enjoy the occasional sneak attack, and the occasional toothpaste Oreo, he enjoys his gifting pranks even more. Saying he got you something extravagant for your year anniversary of working with the TF141, only for you to open up the box and find a little racecar, something akin to a Hot Wheels. He watches you play it off, say you’ll cherish it and set it up somewhere but he knows his girl better than that. He hands you another box, and inside? A meticulously laid diamond necklace, heavier than a damn paperweight and shinier than the sun.

“Now, you’ll be wearin’ diamonds when Simon scares the piss outta ya,” he winks.

[cod-dump]

If they were in a university setting, what do you think the characters would be studying?

Soap definitely being a chemistry major, maybe also having a particular interest in astronomy. Physically a meathead but in mind and soul he's a nerd. Has glow in the dark plastic stars and planets on his walls and ceilings along with pictures of galaxies. Cried when the first picture of a black hole was taken. "SHE'S SO BEAUTIFUL."

Price is a history major, specializes in wars and military. Was the kid that knew all the "fun facts" about WWI and WWII. He enjoys the unknown details of them. "Did you know in-" is the sign you should leave the room. Has too many history books in his room, and yes he's read them all and then some.

Gaz being a psychology major. Obsessed with thrillers and suspense films, analyzes people in real life (but only in private with his friends). He's interested in having a career in law enforcement and criminal psychology. Is very good at reading people when he isn't trying. Unofficial therapist in his friend group.

Ghost is a literature major. Good with his words (when he wants to be) and is considered a brilliant mind when he tries. Spends his spare time working out and in the library. Claims to not have a favorite author but does have a favorite genre: Romantic Dramas. He isn't shameful about it, he's openly proud of being a romantic at heart. Never mind his favorite story elements being murder and kidnapping.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Nonsense

Written for the prompt "Nonsense" by Sabrina Carpenter.

Draco took another sip of his drink, letting it fizzle in his mouth and burn on its way down his throat. He steadfastly ignored the way his heart thud, thudded in his chest whenever Potter glanced up at him, the corner of his mouth ticking up as gave him a hot once-over.

The flush crept all the way up his neck and spread over his cheeks, his whole body felt too warm, tummy swooping and tingling, like he was a bloody teenager. He took another drink, trying to stay relaxed.

Pansy was talking, something about her latest flame, but he could barely keep up, hoping that his occasional nods and hums were sufficient.

And she didn't seem to notice until Potter stood up and walked past them, nodding at Draco and grinning at him, tilting his head down like he was a little shy and Draco's heart jumped into his throat as he attempted to smile back.

"Parkinson," he greeted, "Draco," he added, voice soft and warm like he'd cast a spell that tied Draco's intestines around each other.

"Hey," he breathed, shook his head. "I mean," he cleared his throat, "Potter."

Potter's grin widened and it looked for a moment like he would say something more, but then he just nodded and kept on his way to the loo.

"Well," Pansy said with a sigh, sounding unbearably bored, "go on then."

"Pardon me?"

"Go on," she said, rolling her eyes at him. "I know you've been watching him all night. It seems like he finally made his move and it's time for you to make yours."

He sniffed and took another sip of his drink, "I've no idea what you're talking about."

"Right. You've no idea what I'm talking about because you've been too busy staring at Potter to listen to the words coming out of my mouth for the past hour."

And he wanted to protest, he really did, but they both knew that he had no leg to stand on. "Fine," he said, knocking back the last of his drink. "I will."

"Finally," she muttered but he didn't even dignify that with a response. He marched to the loo and opened the door, "Listen, Potter," he started, louder than he might have if he'd realized that Potter was standing at the sink, washing his hands and not in one of the stalls. "Oh."

Potter looked up at him, eyes fucking twinkling behind his glasses and Draco wanted to punch something, wanted to throw up, or bang his head against the wall, or... something. Watching Potter remain so bloody attractive while Draco fell apart was entirely infuriating. "I'm listening," Potter said, grinning even more broadly.

And Draco did the only thing that he could think to do with his tongue so tied, he lunged forward and grabbed Potter by the collar of his shirt and dragged him in to kiss him.

The water on Potter's hands soaked through Draco's shirt, but it was the furthest thing from his mind as Potter's mouth opened against his and he spun them, pressing Draco back against the sink.

His hands gripped Potter's shirt harder, pulling him in as he sank deeper into the kiss.

The other man smiled, his lips turning up at the corners and making the kiss a little awkward, but in a sweet way that Draco couldn't help but enjoy. "What?" he asked, still attempting to kiss Potter but wanting to understand that infernal grin.

"I like you," Potter said with a little shrug before he kissed Draco a little more. "I enjoy you."

"You drive me mental," Draco replied, in spite of the way that his stomach did back flips at the other man's words.

"Yeah?" he asked, still grinning.

"Yes," he grunted, all petulance and delight mixed up together. "You get my words all twisted together, you turn me into this daft idiot who can't get his head on straight."

Potter snorted, "Very convenient, seeing as I do my best not to fall for straight men."

He rolled his eyes and shoved Potter's shoulder before drawing him in closer and wrapping his arms around his waist.

"Be mine?" Potter asked. "Not just sleeping in my bed or hooking up in loos," he clarified, "actually, properly mine?"

"Is that what you actually want?" Draco asked, thinking that outcome was certainly too good to be true. "With me?"

Potter chuckled and bumped Draco's cheek with his nose, "I don't see anyone else standing in this loo with me."

He blinked, pushed back the insecurity that he felt rising in his chest, nodded once and decided to let himself have what he wanted. "Yeah," he said softly. "I'd like that."

"Alright, then."

Harry nodded. "Alright."

[1-800-be-my-baby]

sub!jj cumming hands free from praise :((

p!link | when i saw this ask i immediately thought of this video

cw: sub!jj x dom!reader, oral (fem receiving), slight mommy kink

you didn't often take control during sex, but when you did, jj loved it.

your hips grind against jj's mouth, a mixture of spit and your arousal dripping down his chin.

"fuck just like that. that feels so good. you're doing such a good job for me baby." moans and whimpers come from the boy beneath you. He's desperately bucking his hips up in the hair, desperate for friction.

"taste s'good" he's groaning against your pussy, as if eating you out was giving him just as much pleasure as it was giving you.

you snake your hand through his hair, lightly yanking, placing him in a better position to ride his face. your hips begin to burn as you near your climax.

"m'gonna cum" you let out a loud cry, your legs shaking as you clench your thighs around his head. he drinks every last bit of your release, licking you completely clean before you climb off of him.

"you're such a good boy. did so well for me." he doesn't meet your gaze, instead he's looking down at his boxers, now completely sticky.

"awe baby, did you cum from eating mommy out?"

"mhm, you just taste so good i couldn't help it" his face is red with embarrassment.

"its okay, let me clean you up, yeah?" he nods his head as you places kisses down his stomach before licking up the mess he made.

"i think my baby deserves a reward for being so good. don't you?

[zevrra]

Could you write overstimulated stroking Jayce until he cries and beg you to stop.

[a good boy—

includes: [mdni! 18(+), smüt, händjob, slight öräl (m receiving), praise, overstim, jayce is pathetic as always]

ft. jayce x gn!reader

a/n: this isn’t great but UGHHHH PATHETIC WHIMPERING OVERSTIM JAYCE MY BELOVED!!! thank you for this request it was yummy to write <3

“c’mon pretty boy…i know you can do one more.” you mumble against the inside of jayce’s thigh. your fingers are wrapped around his leaking cock, stroking along his thick shaft with a steady pace. jayce tenses under your touch, head thrown back against the couch, his mouth hangs open as you draw every single sweet groan you can out of the man. he shakes his head at your words, tears hanging onto his pretty eyelashes.

“no…i can’t! please, no more.” jayce sobs, bottom lip trembling as he glances down at you.

you can’t help but chuckle a little at his pathetic expression. smiling as you press firmly into the slit of jayce’s sensitive tip, watching sweetly as precum pools around the pad of your thumb. “you know you can handle it. you're so strong my love. i know you can do it.” you encourage.

jayce gasps at your touch; shaking his head once again. you had edged him for hours, stroking from the base of his cock to his head, stringing him closer and closer to his orgasm before removing your hand entirely. until he successfully begged you enough to let him come, so you let him. again and again; until he turned into the overstimulated mess that he is now. he whimpers as his hand reaches to grab at your wrist. “no—“

“don’t touch or i’ll have to tie your hands down again.” you hum.

in response, jayce rips his hand away, instantly showing his true colors. he wanted this. wanted you to keep going; even if he shook his head and cried, until he uttered that safe word…he wanted this more than anything.

“such a big, strong man and you can’t come more than three times, hmm? now, i know better than that baby. you can do it.” you mutter, pressing a kiss into his leaking head, feeling him shiver under your grasp.

jayce reluctantly lowers his hand back to his side, trying his best to relax as your hand begins to move faster. you watch with an observant eye as his face twists in pleasure and focus. jayce grunts as your speed picks up, you settle one hand on his base while the other targets the head of his cock. his back arches as you rub directly against his sensitive tip. every known curse and swear falls from his lips as his fingers grip onto anything they can find. realizing as he’s probably gotten too loud, he bites down on his bottom lip, whimpering behind his sealed lips.

“mmm, that won’t do sweetheart. don’t hold your voice back.” you mumble, pressing your tongue into the slit of his head.

jayce’s mouth falls open again at your request. “fuck i’m coming,” he sobs between ragged breaths, body tensing harshly with his oncoming orgasm. “coming, coming, i’m, i can’t! coming baby, i’m coming!” he stutters. his hips lift quickly to meet every single stroke of your hand, his words failing him now as he reaches his fourth orgasm of the night.

“mhm good.” you sigh softly, smiling fondly as jayce finally cums. his slick coats your fingers, thinner with his back to back orgasms. you press your tongue right up against his twitching head, relishing in his cries as he cums for you. and your hand never stops moving until jayce is twitching with his spent orgasm. tears finally fall free to stream down his cheeks from overstimulation, unable to properly speak anymore. all he can muster is a weak noise resembling a whine, wrapping a hand firmly around your wrist to finally stop you from moving your hand anymore.

and you allow him the opportunity to rest by removing your sticky fingers from around his softening shaft, reaching for the nearby clean up station you had prepared. while cleaning your hands you stand from your crouched position between his thighs, lovingly placing a kiss against his temple. “you did such a good job, baby.” you praise your lover as everything begins to settle down.

jayce weakly settles his hands on your waist, rubbing soothing circles into your body, tilting his head up with a pout on his lips. “do i get my reward now?” he asks softly.

you laugh a little at his sudden eagerness for his so called “reward”. even while you pleased him again and again for so long, all he could think about was pleasing you. “yes, you do.” you reply with a wide smile. his fingers are quick to undo your pants, stripping you of them with his own excited smile. his stamina was truly something else; seeing as he was no longer that exhausted if it meant it was his turn to please you.

god, what a man.

[palmerzy]

Hey girl! Saw your page and followed, love your work! Was wondering if you could do something with Spencer Reid + fingering her for the first time? (Reader is inexperienced) thanks!

hey anon!! spencer is more dom in this than i usually write him to be, i hope that’s okay ‼️

NSFW! - explicit sexual themes.

you’re not really sure how you ended up in spencer reid’s apartment, making out with him on his couch, but how could you complain? he’s gentle and sweet, but the way his hands grip your hips tell you he’s more familiar with this dance than you are.

you’ve had sex before, sure, but never anything extravagant, and nobody has ever really cared for your pleasure. nobody, until spencer, who’s slowly sliding his hand up your skirt, skimming his fingers across the edge of your panties in a way that makes your skin crawl in anticipation.

he knows you’re not too experienced, never being one to share stories of hookups with morgan and emily, so he assumes there’s nothing to share. “this okay?” “you can tell me to stop,” “just wanna make you feel good like you deserve,” he’d mumble huskily into your ear, his lips pressing kisses to your jaw so gentle you fear you may be falling in love with his touch alone.

he’s elated to find you wet for him, grinning like an idiot knowing he did that, and his grin only widens when he slides his middle finger into you, feeling around for what works best. his brows are furrowed, his tongue between his teeth as he focuses - until finally he makes a ‘come hither’ motion, earning a squeal from you. “oh, yeah, that’s the spot, baby? that works for you?” he’d ask softly, biting your ear lobe in satisfaction when you nod.

“mhm. i know that’s right. ‘cause the clitoris extends inside and that spot right there is the back end—“ he’d begin to ramble, all whilst his finger is slowly curling into you, his ring finger joining the mix. “please shut up and just keep doing what you’re doing,” you’d interrupt, back slowly arching off his sofa as his fingers press against that spongy spot inside of you, having you a whimpering mess beneath him in a matter of seconds.

who knew spencer’s fingers could feel so good? well, now you did. plus, you’ve always had a sneaky suspicion - watching him write away in his notebook at work, thoughts wandering to feeling those long, slim digits within you, and here you are. experiencing everything you’ve spent hours daydreaming about at work, being interrupted by hotch’s stern questioning of why your case studies aren’t on his desk by now.

spencer’s speeding up at this point, encouraged by your soft mewls in his ear, letting him know he’s doing good. he can tell by your startled reactions that this is a first, and it spurs him on further. “nobody’s ever done this to you, pretty girl?” “never? what a shame, you’re so responsive. so gorgeous. wish i’d shown you how to feel good so long ago.”

his thumb would gently press against your clit, fingers moving in and out of your pussy in a perfect yet gentle rhythm. he tries circling your nub with pressure, scanning your face for a reaction - and he concludes that slow, light rubs seem to draw the prettiest moans from your swollen lips.

you’d feel a coil tightening in your stomach, something unfamiliar, and his hands are working in a way that has your body immensely relaxed whilst simultaneously being anxiously on the edge of something new. “spence- spence, i don’t-“ you begin, brows furrowed, hands digging into his hair.

“shh, shh, i know. you’ve never properly come before, huh? it’s okay. you’re okay. let go.”

[shadowsandcoffedripss]

Hiii, I saw your post about wanting some requests for date everything. Could I perhaps ask for some Scandalabra x reader where reader polishes him? Or where he gives them the proper instructions on how to do it to his standards?

MY FAVORITE DATEABLEEEEEE

Scandalabra my beloved 🥹

Of course I can <33

🕯️🕯️🕯️

🕯️🤫🕯️

🕯️🕯️🕯️

[bleach-your-panties]

#3 of the six sexy word prompts with Amajiki, please?

Only because you said please- 🫢

Minors, go away. Only click 'keep reading' if you consent to reading some nasty, freaky shit.

----

“Keep looking, Tama. Please baby, look at how pretty you look.”

You breathed hot puffs of air against Tamaki’s already sweaty neck. 

The shy hero whined against your neck, still absolutely refusing to look into the mirror situated right in front of your shared bed.

Tamaki couldn't bear to look lest he make a complete fool of himself and shoot off inside of you just at the image of you squatting over his dick.

“I can't…I can't, bunny, please…ahh!”

You grabbed a handful of his dark, indigo hair and jerked his head up. With the same hand, you laid a quick slap across his cheek before pressing your lips to it.

“I said to look, Tamaki.”

Shakily, deep midnight blue eyes  flickered up to the mirror and you could feel Tamaki’s dick pulsate inside of you.

“See how good you look filling me up, baby? I love you so much, Tamaki.”

With a soft moan, he sighed and brought his strong arms around your waist to get a better hold to bounce you up and down on him.

“Oh fuck, Tama, right there!” You gripped his left bicep but he tossed your arm off.

A surprised squeak escaped your lips, not expecting for Tamaki to suddenly  grab you behind the neck and manhandle you over the edge of the bed.

You heard some wet, squishy sounds before feeling several slimy, muscular appendages tighten around your waist and hoist you up onto your knees.

Cheeks lit aflame with embarrassment, you tried to hold your head down but four pale fingers and a thumb gripped your jaw.

“Now, now, that’s not fair, bunny…you said to look, remember?”

You did as your lover asked and brought your own e/c eyes to meet his in the mirror.

“Good girl. Now stay still while I wreck all of your little bratty holes…” 

A scream echoed around the room as Tamaki transformed both his fingers and tongue into multiple, slithering, maroon tendrils.

----

ʳᵉᵇˡᵒᵍˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ🫶🏽

[octoberautumnbox]

fromis as your girlfriend?

ok :DDDD

~~~

You wrap your coat around Saerom and plant a kiss on her hair once you get the chance.

"I was kidding," she giggles, "I'm not that cold." Despite her words, she snuggles your coat a little bit more before she tries taking it off. However, the moment the skin of her hands are exposed to the frigid air, she shivers and rubs them together.

"There's no point in lying, Rommie. You're about as hard to read as a children's vocabulary book." Your hands meet her cheeks, a miscalculation on your part, and she shivers at how cold you are. Her eyes fill with a sort of shy sadness, but her quick thinking saves you both.

"Uhh, my legs are tired too. Carry me?" she asks bashfully, knowing you can't refuse her. Of course you oblige, and as you pick her up in a piggyback ride, she wraps both your and her coat around you to keep you warm too.

~~~

The bowl clatters to the table, spilling its contents all over the surface. Your yelp is loud and sharp, reflecting the pain that covers four of your fingers in the hot soup.

"Fucking idiot," Hayoung grunts. She rushes to wipe your hand free of the liquid, while simultaneously righting and filling the bowl your dropped with cold water. She places it in front of you and dips your fingers inside.

"Be more careful next time." Her voice is stern like it always is when you get hurt. "I can't always be around to look after you and keep you safe. It's like you're doing all this on purpose, honestly."

Behind the scolding, you know her words come from a place of genuine worry and care. Of course they do; her heart can't bear seeing you in pain. Hayoung's gaze never leaves your hand, her fingers never leave your wrist. She has to make sure you're okay.

"It was just an accident, my beloved bread loaf. It wouldn't kill me." The worry in her eyes balloon more, as if she's near tears.

Ease her worries, pull her in and plant a kiss on her exposed forehead. "But okay, I'll be careful. I'm sorry."

Her gaze softens as she finally meets your eyes. A small smile forms at the corners of her mouth before her attention returns to your healing hand.

She fishes your fingers out of the bowl and carefully kisses each one after every word: "I love you too."

~~~

You find Jiwon outside the laundry room with her arms crossed in front of her chest and a finger between her teeth, evidently lost in thought. As you approach her, the smell of detergent overpowers you, and the sound of bubbles popping vigorously out of sight grows louder and louder.

She finally notices you getting closer, and she holds out her hand to stop you. "Okay, before you get mad, know that I did everything right. Something's broken."

"What did you-" you grunt, but as you round the corner and peer into the laundry room, you find the floor covered in suds and the washing machine whirring like it never whirred before.

"See? Broken." Jiwon places her hands on her hips proudly, proud to show none of this was her fault.

Your gaze flies to her in disbelief, and her features drop in disappointment. Her eyes meet the floor between her feet and her voice lowers in volume.

"You're mad," she mutters ashamedly, "I'm sorry, honey. I don't know what happened."

The washing machine finally stops whirring, but the lights all throughout your apartment flicker. You frantically rush for the circuit breaker and flip the master switch off, nearly slipping as you do, and darkness falls all around the two of you.

"It's alright," you sigh. You pat her on the shoulder and pull her in for a snuggle. "You're not hurt, honey?" Stroke her hair and comfort her, still wary that she might be keeping something else about the situation from you.

"Nope, I'm fine, but I have to own up to something: I maaaaybe forgot to read the instructions." Her laugh cuts through the tension of the situation, and you find yourself laughing with her. It'll be a headache tomorrow to get all this fixed, but for now, it's a welcome slow dance with your girlfriend in the dark.

~~~

The two of you head off to a nearby shade as Jisun hums happily at the sweet flavor of her ice cream. She's the type to take bites out of it, and while you found that a bit weird, it takes nothing away from how much you love her.

"What flavor is that again?" you ask while licking your lips free of your own ice cream. She takes a second before meeting your eyes, evidently really enjoying her cold treat.

"It's- Ahahaha, look at you!" She points to your chin while bellowing a hearty laugh. She nearly folds in half as her joy consumes her; each time she rises and takes in the sight of you, she laughs again.

Confused, you fish our your phone and inspect yourself in the screen. In your reflection you find a dab of your rocky road on your nose and a line of it from your lower lip to your chin. It suddenly connects what Jisun was laughing so hard about:

"I'm sorry, love, you a bit look like a clown!" She struggles to get her laughter under control, but loses it when you pull a funny face for her. She pounds your chest weakly, announces her sides are starting to hurt, and yet, her laughter never lets up.

There's no shame nor judgment in her reactions, and you know full well that she's only overflowing with joy to be spending a perfect day like this out with you. There's no harm in laughing at yourself once in a while, especially when you get to hear Jisun's as well.

~~~

You shut the door behind you and walk over carefully to Seoyeon's bed. She lifts up the covers and hurries you in despite you trying your hardest not to spill the ramyeon you cooked for her.

"Thaaank you, sweetheart," she cheers, taking the bowl and chopsticks from you and placing it carefully on her lap over the blanket. She cuddles up to you happily before taking her first bite of your cooking, and she shakes in contentment once the savory taste of the food washes over her tongue.

As the TV drones on in the background, you wrap her in a warm embrace. You have half a mind to scold her, wanting to tell her off for not getting up all day, but with a sight like this, you really hate to break the peace.

Instead, you watch as she devours the ramyeon bite by bite, her eyes never leaving the TV, and her head never lifting off your shoulder. The scent of her hair fills your nose, and the warmth of her body calms you down and releases tension you didn't even know you had.

"Say aaahhhhh." Seoyeon lifts up a bite of her ramyeon and blows on it, then brings it over to your mouth. She stares expectantly as she waits for you to open up, and who are you to decline?

She thoughtfully offers you the bite of her food, her food, and you eat it gratefully. Her eyes turn into crescents as her smile takes over her features, and for a moment you take in the beauty of Lee Seoyeon.

~~~

You snap what might be the millionth picture of her today, probably not even she knows how many you've taken for her so far, and hand your phone back to her for inspection.

"Hmm, no, still not it. Take a few more." She walks back to the wall and strikes another hot pose. Her finger flies towards the stairs, and you understand that she wants you at a higher vantage point for a better angle.

You take a number of steps up the flight, and point your lens at her once more. "Chae, please, we've been here for hours. Can't you just pick the best one?" you whine, but you still fulfill your duty of snapping pictures of her. The light from the flash washes over her features and figure, and you're once again reminded that she's gorgeous. Why even whine about merely taking pictures when this is your muse?

She swipes back your phone and scrolls through your gallery, carefully scrutinizing each photo. She settles on one, and favorites it. "Hehe, thank you, baby. Send all those to me except that one with the heart. "

You take back your phone and find the photo she's talking about, and you notice that by her standards it's the best one out of them all. She flashes a beautiful smile at you, no more pictures, as she wraps you in a warm and grateful embrace.

"Why not this one? I thought you'd like it the most."

"It is! And that one you keep for yourself. Only for your eyes." She kisses you playfully on the lips before smiling again, "For being the best boyfriend ever."

~~~

The live band fills the room with a sophisticated symphony, all the while pieces of silverware clink against plates and hushed, faraway voices of the snooty and rich reach your ears. You try your best to ignore the atmosphere of this fancy dinner, with the only thing in the world making it semi-bearable having a terrible time as well.

"I can't believe I let you drag me all the way out here." Nagyung's knife clacks against the fine porcelain making up her plate, most probably leaving scratch marks on the priceless dinnerware. She retrieves a poorly-cut bite of the tough steak, sighs, and eats it anyway. Nagyung spends a bit more time than usual trying to chew the meat before ultimately swallowing with a grimace. "My mouth isn't made for food like this. I need pizza and Yakult."

"If I recall correctly," you retort, your voice unexpectedly harboring a harsh tone, "it's your fault we're here. You weren't satisfied with suffering alone and you just had to bring me along as a plus-one." The fish's pepper overwhelms your taste buds and you make for your glass of water again. Just one gulp is enough to wash it down, but the sheer amount of fish left on your plate disheartens you.

"Look, I'm sorry. I knew it'd be boring, but I didn't think it would be this bad," Nagyung sighs, shuffling her peas and corn around the plate. You can tell with how she sounds that she means it, and by the way that she acts that she regrets ever mentioning this to you.

Feeling guilty at losing your temper, you attempt to reassure her. It's the least you could do, once you realize how utterly disrespectful what you just said to her was, and try to make up for embarrassing her like that. "This ends at 11, right? Just enough time to get to that Italian place by the park before it closes?"

She looks up at you with a face riddled with shock, but then is quickly replaced with a shining grin. Her teeth gleam in the candlelight as her adorable giggles reach your ears.

"We can just about make it if we break four speeding laws on the way." Her tone is now filled with an unmatched excitement, like the first shot of espresso on a dull morning.

"Awesome. Pick up the pizza, stock up on Yakult, get the hell home. Perfect crime."

Nagyung laughs out loud, attracting the attention of a few others near your table. She covers her mouth, but the smile never leaves her eyes as she whispers: "Are we stealing the pizza too? What do you mean 'crime?!'"

"Figure of speech, dummy," you declare as you twirl your fork in the air like a wizard, "But not completely off the table."

~~~

Jiheon flips the leaf over and over, examining every vein it has. Her eyes rake over the stalk to try and find any defining features at all, but her search evidently turns up nothing of value.

"What type of tree is this?" Her question is innocent, and she's so engrossed in the specimen that she even forgets to look at you.

"Damned if I knew. What am I, a tree-ologist?" Your joke steals her attention, but she responds with only a blank stare.

"Arborist," she says in passing, her attention turning back to the leaf. "They're called arborists."

"Right..." you mutter, shame rising to your cheeks at your apparently immature attempt at humor. Jiheon is too smart for you sometimes, and you don't always connect.

She picks a leaf off the branch and walks over to you. Your girlfriend drops it onto your palm and says "Keep, please. Wanna look up when we get home."

You nod and put the leaf away in your jacket pocket, and she watches as you expertly stow her specimen in a secure place on your person. Once the both of you are sure the leaf is safe, she clings to your arm and snuggles, the image of pure joy.

"What's gotten into you?" Your question is innocent and maybe a little bit dense, but it only serves to make her smile grow wider.

Jiheon snuggles more into your arm and even plants a kiss on your shoulder. She looks up at you with adoration, but something tells you she has one teeny bit of mischief up her sleeve.

"Nothing, you're just cute, that's all. Thank you." She kisses you on the cheek and refuses to explain any further. Her eyes look ahead as the two of you continue your stroll through her neighborhood.

Jiheon is too smart for you sometimes, and you don't always connect. In the rare times that you do, it feels like the world is right. But in the times that you don't, like now, it only reminds you how much more of her you're looking forward to seeing.

~~~

a/n: that was fun! thank you for the great ask anon :DDDD