#but hope that it turns out to be worth it to you all!!

[heartsforjh]

CONGRATS ON 100 KIRBS <333 TO MANY MORE!

For your celly, can I request Luke and physical touch: “I thought you hated it when people touched you?” with reader on the receiving end (as in she's the one who isn't a fan of being touched)??

Thank you and good luck with your celly!!

THANK YOU! 🫶 now, 26 times. 26 times i fully listened to justin timberlake on repeat to produce this for you meg. also, while writing the part where reader couldn’t stay awake i actually fell asleep… 😭 anyways, i hope you enjoy. 🙏

You had met Luke at Umich not too long ago. Despite being quiet and unassuming around most people, he was rowdy and playful with your friend group, always bringing an easy energy to the room. He was funny, considerate, and far more polite than the average guy you’d met at your new university.

Today your friend group decided on hanging out in one of the larger dorms, so that there’s more room for everyone to actually fit. Luke, as usual, is roughhousing with his friends, their laughter echoing through the room. In the middle of their chaos, Luke accidentally bumps into you, nearly knocking you off balance.

“Oh, shit, my bad! I’m sorry Y/n,” he blurts, steadying you with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Lukey always finding excuses to touch his girlfriend.” Dylan teases, his grin wide and knowing.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Luke shoots back instantly, looking a little flustered, his tone shifts into something firmer. “Don’t be weird like that. It’s not funny to make her uncomfortable.”

Turning back to you, his expression softens into a sheepish smile. “I really am sorry, Y/n. I’ll be more careful.”

You nod, offering a polite smile. “It’s okay.” You can tell he feels bad, but before you can say anything else, his friends pulled him back into their conversation. You stay quiet, still too shy to fully insert yourself, being new to this circle of people.

Later that day, the group bundles up for the cold weather and heads to the UMich football game. As everyone files into the bleachers, Luke maneuvers himself to stand next to you. It was hard not to notice, and you could easily hear Dylan snickering.

Luke rolls his eyes but doesn’t budge, determined to put himself out there. After a moment, he glances at you, his face softening when he notices your rosy cheeks from the cold.

“So, uh… is this your first football game? I mean, UMich game?” He stumbles, trying to get his question out without looking stupid, “You’ve probably been to other football games before, but… yeah, first here?”

You can’t help but smile at how nervous he seems. “Yeah. This is my first.”

His face lights up at your response. “Cool! You’ll like it! These games are a lot of fun.”

You tuck your hands deeper into your jacket pockets, shivering slightly. “I hope so. It’s freezing out here.”

Luke chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, Michigan weather can be brutal. You’ll get used to it, though! I grew up here… well, partly in Canada too. Oh, but I was born in New Hampshire. Not that it matters…” He trails off, fully aware that he’s rambling but powering through anyway. “What I’m saying is, I’m used to the cold. And don’t worry, these games are always worth it. My brothers and I go all the time. Actually, we’ve got a lake house we visit in the summer together too—maybe you could come with sometime!” He slows down, hoping he’s not coming off too strong. “You know, if you’re around.”

You listen patiently, letting him overshare whatever his heart desires, “I’ll probably go home over the summer since it’s my first year here, but I bet I could find time to visit for a bit somewhere in there.”

“Really? Yeah… yeah, that’d be cool,” he says, his smile growing. He glances down and realizes exactly how close he’d moved towards you while talking.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says, quickly shuffling back.

You don’t mind the closeness, but you weren’t gonna make it more awkward by telling him so. The two of you continued chatting, the conversation flowing naturally until the game ends and everyone decides to head back to their dorms.

A few days later, the group gathers at Luke’s place for a movie. You’re curled up in a beanbag, with Luke sitting next to you on the floor, his head resting against your seat. The movie drags on, and you find yourself nodding off.

However, your eyes quickly snap open when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey, do you want to help me make popcorn for everyone?” Luke asks softly. You nod, grateful for something to keep you awake. He stands and offers you his large hand, which you take without hesitation.

As he leads you into the kitchen, he glances back and notices you rubbing your eyes.

He laughs quietly. “Tired?”

You nod, stifling a yawn. He realizes he’s still holding your hand and quickly lets go, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you say, leaning against the counter as he grabs the popcorn supplies.

“You know, if you’re that tired, you can just crash in my room after this,” he offers casually, glancing at you.

Your eyes widen slightly. “Oh! No, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” he insists, his tone genuine. “Those beanbags suck to sleep on. Trust me, I know—my brothers used to make me sleep on them when we were kids.”

You laugh softly. “Why?”

“Well I was the youngest, and sometimes I didn’t want to sleep in my own room at night…” He trails off, suddenly regretting his honesty.

“You were scared of the dark?” you tease, smile somehow looking even more amused than before.

“Monsters, actually,” he corrects, with mock indignation.

Your laughter bubbles out, the sound light and free. It’s the most you’ve laughed since coming to UMich, and Luke was beaming with pride at the sight of it.

When the popcorn is ready the two of you head back into the living room. The group eagerly grabs at the fresh bowl as you settle back into your beanbag. Unsurprisingly, not even two minutes pass before your eyes start drooping again.

A soft laugh from Luke is the last thing you register before you feel yourself being lifted. You instinctively tuck your head into the crook of his neck, his warmth lulling you further into sleep. He carries you upstairs with ease and gently lays you on his bed, carefully tucking the covers around you.

“Just get some sleep,” he murmurs quietly, mostly to himself.

As he turns to leave, you reach out and catch his hand. Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper. “Please stay,” you whisper. “You can lay with me.”

“Uh… are you sure? I can sleep on the beanbag. It’s not a big deal.” he says, hesitantly,

You frown, words laced with tired honesty. “I thought you hated sleeping on the bean bags?”

“I thought you hated when people touch you?” he counters softly, eyes searching yours.

“I do,” you admit. “But it’s okay when it’s you.”

His lips curve into a small, shy smile as he climbs into bed beside you. You waste no time cuddling into him, your head resting on his chest. One of his hands caresses your hair tenderly, while the other settles lightly on your lower back.

The two of you know this isn’t something “just friends” would do, but neither of you seem to mind. You were content with that in the moment. As you drift off to sleep, wrapped in his comforting presence, you decide the feelings you’re starting to acknowledge can wait until tomorrow.

tags: @beenucks @mainly-miracle @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @sweetestdesire @emsdevs @puckmedude @joesnumerouno @alex-wotton

join the taglist here! :)

[anon-sect]

As Trevor was walking around the corner of the back lot of the office, he happened to notice Axel and Landon smoking weed on the premises. This was in strict violation of company rules. "You know you two aren't supposed to be smoking that stuff here." He spoke to them.

Axel and Landon both looked over at their coworker, Trevor. "Mind your own business. We won't get caught. We have been doing this for weeks." Landon replied. "Yeah, piss off, okay." Axel remarked back as well.

Trevor saw no need to say any more and walked off. It was really none of his business after all if they weren't caught yet.

Later that day, the manager had called everyone up to the main area. "As you all know, we have a strict no weed smoking on premisis. But there has been someone smoking in the back lot. We have found the buds on the ground." Owen paused for a moment. "Due to the plant odor, it's hard to smell the weed scent in here. So if anyone knows anything, they are encoursge to speak up." He finished and dismissed everyone.

Trevor went up to Axel and Landon. "You know I should report you two." He spoke softly so that only those two heard his words. "You would lose your jobs, I bet." He added.

Axel and Landon looked a little nervous. They were both already on their second strike for violating company rules. If there was a third, they would be fired for sure. That resulst they didn't want. "What do you want to keep your mouth shut?" Landon asked Trevor, hoping something reasonable. "Yes, anything, we don't need a third strike." Axel also pleaded for some mercy from his coworker.

Trevor thought about it. "Come by my office in ten minutes, and I will tell you. If you don't show, I might be persuaded to talk." He spoke as he walked off heading bakc to his office. He wanted them to pondoer their options.

Riight on time, Trevor saw Landon and Axel enter his office. "We are here, now what you want from us to keep your silence." Axel wanted to know so that this ordeal would be over with.

Trevor pulled out his phione and opened up his TF Pro Max app. "I want you two to be my perfect socks to keep my feet comfortable. I never had living socks before." He stated his request to the strange look on their faces.

"Let me get this straight. You want us to be literal socks willing?" Landon asked in disbelief. Trevor nodded back in response. Both laughed at the thought of being socks.

"I guess I should call the manager then." Trevor threatened while smiling back at them.

"Even if it was possible, It's worth keeping your silence. We will be your socks." Landon spoke, not believing that would ever happen.

Travor pointed his phone at both of them and hit the flash. Axel and Landon were instantly turned into a pair of whites socks. He went around his desk and picked up the socks from off the floor. "Nice, you both look perfect. I will wear you two for about a week. I will turn you back to normal then." He sat back down in his chair and took off his old socks in favor of his new living socks. He loved how the new socks felt on his feet. He wiggled his toes in them before putting his favorite sneakers back on his feet. He caught a quick scent of the odor from his shoes. He was glad he wasn't the one being stuck in that foul stench.

Landon was totally shellshocked. He was completely wrapped around Trevor's foot and trapped in the most foul prison he could possiby think of. The shoe smell so bad it almost made him pass out if he had a physical human body. He didn't believe it was even possible to literally be a sock, yet here he was on his coworker's foot. The insoles had been so worn in that he could tell that the shoes were worn very often. They reek of foot stench of years of use. He wanted to get away form the foul odor, but was powerless to do so.

Axel was mentally begging for mercy. He found feet to be disgusting. The worst torment in his mind was to be tied up and forced to smell another guy's foot. He saw that being turned into a sock was worse than that. He was trapped in as stench that smelled like rotten eggs and sour milk with no way of escape. The very foot kept him trapped in his shoe prison, which made him feel so degraded and humiliated. He would have rather the guy rat on them than this existence. The excruciating pain of being walked on made it unbearable in his mind. He was now just an object on his owner's foot. The fact that this would be for a whole week only to keep one secret made it not worth agreeing to this. He mentally pleaded for Trevor to change them back to normal. He didn't want to be a whole week on his foot.

THREE WEEKS LATER.....

Trevor relaxed in his office with his socked feet propped on his desk. He had been wearing the same pair of socks for the past three weeks. Someone had also noticed Landon and Axel smoking weed in the back lot and reported it to the manager two days after he had turned them into socks. Seeing how this would have been their third strike, their employment in the company would have been terminated anyway. At least as his socks, they still had a job. Their new job would forever be to comfort his feet and to absorb all his foot sweat and funk.

But Trevor did enjoy other uses for his living socks. They made good cum rags as well. He took advantage of that on multiple occasions over the past three weeks. He often thought about what his socks were feeling now that they were permanent footwear. Unfortnantly for them, he had erased their datat them moment he heard they were reported. There was no need to change them back to normal now. They were just better of as his dirty, smelly socks.

[k-germsworld]

Meet and Greet

Eunha x M! Reader feat Sinb, Umji

4.3k words

Viviz's comeback is imminent, so Na.V has started pre-ordering a lot of albums just to be able to attend the fan meeting. Of course, I am no exception. I also try my best to buy their albums just to be able to attend the fan meeting. A week before Viviz's comeback, I received a package. In the package was the album I pre-ordered and a letter. There was a ticket for a fan meeting in the envelope, and it was also noted that no one else could know except me. The ticket said "Viviz Pre-Comeback Meet and Greet". It also had the venue and date and number "05" written on it. I held onto the ticket with some doubt until the day of the event. 

The Day

I went according to the location written on the ticket. Although the venue was a little remote, I went anyway. When I arrived at the venue, I found that I was not the only one who got the ticket. But there didn't seem to be many people at the venue, only about 10 to 15 people. We waited patiently on site until the appointed time. At the appointed time, the curtain of the stage slowly opened. Behind the slowly opening curtain, there were three large cubicles and a person who walked out and stood in the middle of the stage. 

“Welcome to Viviz Pre-Comeback Meet and Greet, Na.V. We have invited only a small number of people, hoping that you who are present can fully enjoy your time alone with Viviz. Without further ado, let me introduce today's procedures to you." In order to let us enjoy the show as quickly as possible, the host quickly got to the point and we listened to him carefully.

According to the host, we don't know who is in which cubicles. We can only rely on our own feelings to find the members we like. He also explained to us that this fan meeting is very different from other ones. So don't be surprised by what happens when you enter the cubicles and enjoy it. After you are done in the cubicles, then put your ticket in the raffle box, and the winner will get a very special benefit. Since there are 15 of us, to be fair, one cubicle can only queue for 5 people. First come, first served. “Na.V are you ready?” After listening to everything, the host asked us. “Yes!!” We answered loudly together. 

“3…..”

“2…..”

“1…..”

“Let’s Start!”

After the host finished counting down, we all chose the cubicles according to our feelings. Everyone wanted to choose their favourite member. Of course, I wanted to, but I liked all three of them so I had a hard time making the choice. I chose the cubicle on the left, and I happened to be the last person in the cubicle on the left. There is a manager standing next to each cubicle, so that he can instruct fans to enter, and then after the fan inside is done, he will instruct another fan to enter. Since there was no time limit and I was not sure how long I would have to wait, I looked around. I noticed that some of the fans who went in came out very quickly, but some took a long time to come out. But without exception, everyone had a very happy expression on their faces when they came out.  My queue wasn't very slow, but when other cubicles have already entered the second fans or the third fans and my team is still with the first fans. 

No matter how long I wait, it's worth it, as long as it's for Viviz. So I just have to wait more patiently. After about 30 minutes, it was finally my turn. The manager signalled that I could enter the cubicle. I entered the cubicle and found a bed inside. Eunha was sitting on the bed. I was very surprised by Eunha's look today. She was wearing a blue camisole and a black skirt. The dress perfectly brought out her cleavage, while the short skirt brought out her snow-white thighs. I was completely attracted by her beauty and didn't react until she started talking to me. "Hey, don't be nervous. You can sit next to me now. And show me your ticket." I showed her my ticket. She looked at it and smirked.  When I got the ticket, I noticed the "body part" section, and mine said "hands". But I still don't understand what this section can do in this meet and greet. "The benefit you drew is a hand. Do you know what it is used for?" I shook my head to indicate I don't know. "Just like this." After she finished speaking, she used her hand to stroke my cock through my pants. "Wait a minute, Eunha. What are you doing?" I was frightened by her sudden action. "This is the main reason for this fan meeting. Before the comeback, we all wanted to get the love of Na.V, so we proposed this fan meeting to the company. You don't need to feel guilty, you just need to enjoy it. The more cum you ejaculate, the greater support you give us." As she spoke, she took off my pants. "Your cock is neither too big nor too small. Although some of the guys' cocks are bigger than yours, I still like your size. I wanted to stop her, but I couldn't.  

Eunha wrapped her hand around my cock and stroked it slowly up and down.  “Oh fuck…. Eunha, your hands are so soft.” I said to her, "So, do you like it?" She smiled and asked me. I could only nod because it felt so good to have her hand stroking my cock. After she smiled with satisfaction, she spit some saliva on my cock. My cock was throbbing as her warm saliva dripped onto it. She spread the saliva on my cock evenly on my cock as lubrication. She was stroking my cock while looking at me with lustful eyes. Her eyes seemed to tell me to cum quickly because she wanted my semen. Her look made me want to kiss her lips unconsciously, but she stopped me. "You can't do that. Now I can only help you cum with my hands. But if you are drawn in the lucky draw later, it will be a different story." Although I really wanted to kiss Eunha right now, I didn't want to be kicked out by the manager, so I had to suppress myself and enjoy the handjob she gave me first. Her hands never stopped, and if she felt her saliva was about to dry, she would continue to spit some saliva on my cock. Under the dual stimulation of her warm saliva and her hands, I cum a lot. Her hands were all covered with my cum. She brought her hands to her nose and smelled my cum. "I hope your cum won't be only on my hands later, but in my mouth or in my wet pussy." Her dirty talk made me hard again, but my round was over so I had to put my pants back on. Just as I was about to leave the cubicle, Eunha stopped me. ""I hope the goddess of luck will favor you in the upcoming lucky draw." She said to me.  Although the chances were slim, her words gave me a little hope. "I hope that too." I said this to her and left the cubicle. Afterwards, I gave my ticket to the staff present. He put my ticket into the lottery box. He also gave the same number as on the ticket.

When all the fans came out of the cubicle and sat down in their seats, Viviz also came out of the cubicle and greeted Na.V. “Annyeonghaseyo, Viviz imnida.” Although it was just a simple greeting, it made the fans present cheer. Viviz also smiled happily. Soon, the host appeared. “Na.V, did you guys enjoy what happened just now?“ The host asked. “Yes!!!” Na.V replied in unison. "Do you guys want to enjoy it more? There was no rejection, and all fans responded loudly that they needed more. The host took out the lottery box. "While I know everyone wants more, this will only be available to three fans and the three lucky fans will be drawn from this lottery box." The whole audience booed instantly. "I know everyone will be unhappy with this decision, but the three of us can't satisfy so many fans at once, so we have to do this." Hearing the boos, Umji immediately took the microphone to comfort the fans. "If you are not selected in the lucky draw later, don't be sad. We will take selfies with you one-on-one. It doesn't matter what poses you make during the selfie." Sinb took the mic and continued. When the fans heard this, they immediately stopped booing. "Even if you are not picked, don't be discouraged. After all, our music promotion activities will start next. So we will definitely meet a lot in the future. There may be more exciting benefits waiting for you then." Eunha continued to comfort. After hearing these words, the fans stopped making noise. Eunha handed the mic back to the host. "Since everyone agrees, let's draw the lottery without further delay. Maybe you will be the lucky winner." The host heated up the atmosphere. The person who draws the lottery is none other than Viviz. They need to serve the holder of the number they draw. Umji drew the first number and handed it to the host. "The first number is 08." The host announced. The fan holding the number 08 jumped up and cheered excitedly. Next, Sinb drew the number 06. Just before Eunha drew the lottery ticket, I was praying that I would be the lucky one in the end. “The last lucky winner is……” I was very nervous until the host made the announcement. “Is 05” After hearing the host's announcement, I looked at the number in my hand in disbelief, and then shouted it out loudly. “Oh yeah !!!!!” I looked at Eunha, and she looked at me. I had already started imagining what was going to happen next.

Although many fans who were not selected were disappointed, they regained some excitement when they thought about what they had just said about taking one-on-one selfies and doing any actions. The three of us who were selected were first taken backstage by the staff because we couldn’t take selfies with them for the time being. The remaining fans were invited to the stage by the staff and asked to line up. The staff explained to them that they could do anything bold to Viviz during the selfie. So the fans started to think about what to do to them. During the selfie, some fans grabbed Eunha's big tits, some asked Sinb to step on his dick, some kissed Umji directly, and some even asked them to grab his dick with their hands and take a selfie. Some even asked to take a selfie with their thighs holding the dick. Every fan took a photo with each member. This session lasted about 30 minutes. After 30 minutes, the fans who had taken the selfie photos left the venue one after another, and the three of us were informed by the staff that we could go to the front stage. We arrived at the front desk and saw Viviz had returned to the cubicle. But this time we were informed which member was in which cubicle, so we just had to go into the cubicle of the member who had just drawn our number.

The three of us stood in front of the cubicles and each entered the cubicle we were supposed to enter. This time I went into the middle cubicle. Eunha was very excited to see me go into her cubicle. When I saw Eunha again, all I could think of was her masturbating me and whispering dirty words in my ear. These images gave me an erection. Eunha saw the bulge in my pants and smirked. "Come and sit here." She patted the bed and motioned for me to sit next to her. I followed her instructions and sat next to her. I sat next to her and I was so nervous that my body was almost stiff and I didn't dare to move. "Don't be nervous, I'll let you freely use me from now until you want to end." She seemed to see that I was very nervous, so she leaned on my shoulder and said in my ear again. I was still shocked by her words, even though I had just ejaculated in her hand. I turned my head to look at her. She kissed me without saying a word. She stopped kissing and asked me. "This is the kiss you wanted just now. How is it? Do you like it? She stopped kissing and asked me. ”Yes, I love it so much!” After hearing this, she continued to kiss me with a happy face. While she was kissing me, her hand continued to touch my cock.  "Your cock is already so hard from just kissing." She broke the kiss and teased me. "Where do you want to put your rock hard cock in me?" she asked me as she continued to tease my cock. Her hands are so skillful in playing cock, I can't even form a word when her hand keeps playing with cock.  She kept looking at me and waiting for my answer. When she saw that I didn't answer, she kept teasing my cock with her thighs. "So where do you want your cock in me right now? Answer me quickly or else Sinb and Umji will already be enjoying the cum and I'll still be here waiting for your answer." Hearing Eunha's urgent request, I forced myself to say my first answer. "Mouth!!" She seems confused and asks me why.  "Your mouth is so tempting. I want to know the feeling of your soft mouth wrapped around my cock and how warm your mouth is." When she heard my answer, she smirked.

She kissed me again. But this time it was different, she stopped quickly and started kissing my neck. Then she took off my shirt and started sucking my nipples. My body trembled because of her sudden kiss on my nipples. She held one nipple in her mouth and teased the other nipple with her fingers. My nipples were completely hard because of her teasing. Then, she stuck out her tongue and licked my belly button. My body was now covered with her saliva. But she seemed not satisfied yet, and she was quickly unbuttoning my pants. My cock was fully exposed to Eunha again. Although it was not big, it was the size she liked. "You know what? I've been thinking about the perfect cock for me. We've been choosing the right cock for ourselves, and you're the perfect cock for me. The lottery and everything is fake, we rigged it a little so we could choose the person we wanted." Eunha looked at my cock and told the truth.I'm not interested in the truth. But I'm glad that I became her ideal person, so I'm going to enjoy Eunha even more. After saying all that, she took my cock into her mouth. "Oh damn..... Eunha. Your mouth is so fucking warm and soft." I let out a moan. She ignored me and continued to suck my cock, she took my entire length into her mouth, I could even feel the vibrations in her throat on my glans. She slowly pulled my cock out. My cock was completely covered with her saliva. I also had some pre-cum leaking out because of her skillful blowjob. After she spit my cock out,She stuck her tongue out to lick my pre-cum and then licked my dick all over and then took my cock into her mouth again. These skilled blowjob techniques made me feel like I was in heaven. Just when I was enjoying the blowjob she was giving me, suddenly the cubicle was raised. 

After the cubicle was raised, the six of us were completely exposed on the stage. But luckily no one else was watching from the audience. I looked around while I was still enjoying Eunha's blowjob. I just realized that Sinb and Umji were already naked and having sex with their fans. Sinb is riding a fan's cock in cowgirl style, the sound of their bodies colliding and the fan's moans make the whole scene very erotic. On the other hand, Umji was being fucked by fans in the doggy style. She begged the fans to spanked her hard and fuck her harder. Sinb and Umji's moans filled the venue, turning me on more and more. These scenes made me become bolder when I saw other fans already putting their dicks in their holes. At this point, I stood up and grabbed Eunha's head and started face-fucking her. She didn't resist at all, she just simply enjoyed me fucking her face roughly. Even though she was drooling from my face fucking, she didn't seem to be in any pain at all. Instead, she was looking forward to the moment when my semen would spurt out. Actually, when Eunha was giving me a blowjob, I was already craving for cum. So I fucked her face hard and cummed into her mouth in just a few strokes. She didn't spit out my cock immediately, but instead waited for me to shoot all my semen into her throat. “Fuck, you had cum alot in my mouth. It’s so tasty." She swallowed all my semen as she spoke.  "How about we have a second round? After the first time, you should know where you need to put your hard cock in me this time." She smirked and hinting me to fuck her pussy this time. Her few simple words gave me another erection. I got an instant erection because of other reasons. Because Sinb and Umji were asking fans to cum inside them. ”Just cum inside me, I want you to creampie me so much.”  As soon as they finished speaking, two fans instantly creampied them. Their pussies were dripping with fans' cum, and like Eunha, they were still not satisfied and asked for a second round. Eunha's teasing and the scenes of Sinb and Umji having sex made me so excited that I got an erection again instantly.

I quickly pushed Eunha down on the bed. Then, I spread her thighs and found that her pussy was already very wet. I didn't put my cock into her wet pussy right away, but touched her pussy first. Just touching the outside of her pussy, her wet pussy quickly soaked my fingers. I slowly put my hand into her pussy. “Stop teasing me already. I can’t wait to feel your dick inside me already.”  Eunha was already very sensitive, just putting it in made her moan loudly. I ignored her and inserted my second finger into her cunt. She was soon squirting as my fingers thrust in and out. My fingers and the bed she was lying on were filled with her juices. I took my fingers out and sent her juices into my mouth. The taste of her juices made me very excited. Her juice was like an aphrodisiac, filling my mind with horniness. I aimed my cock at her pussy and quickly thrust it in. The moment it went in, Eunha seemed to feel an unprecedented pleasure. "Fuck, your cock fills me up completely. Keep going, don't stop. Treat me like your sex doll. Fuck me hard." I grabbed her waist and started to thrust in and out. Her tits swaying from the thrusting and her lewd expression of enjoyment, all of these things stimulated me very much and made me fuck her harder. "Eunha, your pussy makes me feel so good. It's so great to have sex with you today." She put her hands on my shoulders and said to me with lustful eyes: "Since you like fucking me so much, don't stop until you cum all your sperm into me." Her words encouraged me and I increased my speed. As I went faster and faster, I wanted to cum more and more. She kept moaning because of my thrusts. Her moans were irresistible to me. Soon, I came. I obeyed her and shot all my second load into her pussy. While my cock was still shooting warm cum in her pussy, Eunha put her arms around my neck and pulled me close to her and we kissed. She let me go when she felt my second load was finished. I pulled my cock out and saw that even my second load was very heavy. Her pussy was immediately flooded with cum.

I thought it was all over after I cum twice. "I want more. I haven't enjoyed it enough. I want your semen. I am yours today." But Eunha still wanted a third round. After hearing this, I agreed to her request without hesitation. Then I turned her around. Her nice ass was now facing me. Her ass was round and meaty and it made me even harder. Before I put it in her hole, I tried putting my hard cock between her ass and started rubbing it. "Fuck, your ass feels so good too." Her ass feels totally different from her pussy. "Stop teasing my ass already, faster put it in my pussy.” She couldn't bear the teasing any more and just wanted me to put it in quickly. I listened to her and put my cock into her pussy. I started fucking Eunha in doggy style. I grabbed her ass and pushed it back and forth to make it easier for me to fuck her. As I was fucking Eunha, I kept my eyes peeled to see what was going on. I saw Umji doing a 69 with a fan, and another fan was about to put his dick in Sinb's ass, and although she kept trying to stop him, it was finally put in her ass. When it was inserted into her ass, she moaned loudly. After my observation, I turned my attention back to Eunha. While pumping her, my hands moved to her tits and started fondling them. Her tits are really a huge temptation for me, and I can't help but want to touch them every time. “Yes，keep touching them. I love the way you touch them. You make me even horny right now." She seemed to really enjoy having her breasts touched, as if that was her sensitive area. “Eunha, you are so great! I might cum again soon.” She is a huge temptation to me. Each time of penetration does not last long but can make me cum a very large amount of semen. “Just cum everywhere you like as long as it's my body part.” Soon, I pulled out my cock and shot my semen on her round ass. The white semen covered her ass, making her ass look very sexy. 

Just as I finished the third shot, the other two finished at the same time. The fan who was doing 69 with Umji ejaculated in her mouth, and all her juices were ejaculated into his mouth. And Sinb's ass had obvious palm prints, which obviously showed that she was spanked during the process of thrusting, and the fan's semen was cum into her ass. All three of us thoroughly enjoyed it. "We ended at the same time, how about we switch partners?" Someone proposed this to us. We all nodded in agreement without objection. When we were about to take action, the manager beside us stopped us. "You can't switch partners at will, you can only focus on the partner you choose." We had no choice but to obey. The three of them seemed to have reached a consensus, they stood up and pushed the three of us down on the bed. Viviz rides on our cocks at the same time in perfect synchronicity. Eunha rode my cock and started moving her hips to pump herself. She looked at me with very lustful eyes and her hands were on my body, while my hands were holding her waist. "Did you like my performance today?" Eunha asked me. Her continuous movements made her sweat break out. Her body was full of sweat beads. Some of the sweat even dripped onto my body, but I didn't care and I really liked it. "Yes, I fucking love your performance today, Eunha." She smiled at me with satisfaction and kissed me. As she was kissing me she forgot to keep moving her hips so I put my hands on her ass and started moving my hips to pump into her. She felt the force of my thrusts so she broke the kiss and moaned loudly. “Cum inside me this time.” “As you wish.” After that, I shot my semen into her again. She felt the warm sperm all shot into her. She lifted herself up from my dick and showed me how much I cum inside her. My cum dripped out of her pussy and onto my body. She smiled at me and knelt between my legs. She licked all the cum she had dripped onto my body and then licked my cock. She licked my cock clean after I had ejaculated four times, leaving no cum on my cock except her saliva. Eunha also kissed my cock to thank me for the cum today. "That's it for today, thank you for all the cum today." I smiled at her happily. 

When I finished, the other two finished as well. Sinb and Umji also knelt between their thighs and licked their cocks clean to thank them for the cum today. All six of us collapsed on the bed exhausted. After a break, they thanked us again and promised us that they would do a good job in this promotion and hold such surprise events again if there is a chance. We also agreed with Viviz that we would be there on time to support them.

[prettymfwrites]

paige x reader where in they pretend to be together because reader’s ex was in the bar with a new girl so r decides to just randomly kiss p? if you know that one scene from nick & norah’s infinite playlist it’s something like that 💕 i hope u give this one a try!

Not Pretending

Paige bueckers x female reader

Hope this doesn't disappoint! 🙏🏾

Sorry for any mistakes🙃

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･* *･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

The dim glow of the bar’s neon lights painted the room in shades of amber and red, the bass of the music reverberating through the floor as people crowded around tables and leaned against the bar. You were nursing your drink, trying to ignore the knot tightening in your stomach. Across the room, there they were: your ex, laughing and leaning into someone new, their hand brushing against hers in a way that felt far too familiar.

"Of all the places..." you muttered to yourself, tilting your glass back and downing what was left of your drink.

“Did you say something?” Paige asked from beside you, leaning her elbows casually on the counter. She was dressed in her usual relaxed streetwear, her blonde hair tucked into a braided pony. You had met her a few times before through mutual friends, and she’d somehow ended up as your companion for the evening after everyone else had bailed.

“Nothing. Just talking to my drink,” you replied with a forced laugh, setting your glass down.

Paige raised a brow, following your line of sight. “Oh, yikes. Is that your ex?”

“Unfortunately,” you said, trying to act unaffected. “And look who’s already moved on. A whole two months, and they’re out here playing house with someone new.”

Paige grimaced. “That’s rough.”

“Tell me about it,” you muttered.

You tried to focus on anything else, but every laugh and touch between your ex and their date felt like salt in an open wound. You shifted in your seat, your jaw clenching as you turned away.

“You okay?” Paige asked, her tone softening.

“Yeah, totally fine. Just love seeing my replacement in 4K,” you said sarcastically, reaching for your empty glass before realizing it was, well, empty.

Paige chuckled. “You’re taking this like a champ, though. No tears or dramatic storming out.”

“Oh, I’m dramatic,” you shot back. “Just trying to figure out my next move.”

Paige tilted her head, her curious eyes narrowing. “What kind of move are we talking about here?”

You opened your mouth to answer but froze. An idea—a completely ridiculous, impulsive, and chaotic idea—popped into your head.

“Okay, don’t laugh,” you started, leaning closer to her.

“That’s a great way to make me want to laugh,” Paige teased, but she gestured for you to continue.

“What if...” you began, voice dropping, “you and I pretended to be together? Just for tonight. Nothing serious, just... to make them squirm a little.”

Paige blinked at you, then tilted her head back with a laugh. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” you said, your eyes locked on hers. “Look, you don’t have to do anything crazy. Just... maybe hang out with me for a bit, be my fake girlfriend, and if they look over, we sell it.”

Paige smirked, clearly amused by your sudden proposal. “Okay, two things. One, you’re bold as hell for asking me this. And two... what’s in it for me?”

“I’ll owe you one,” you said quickly. “Big time. Like, I’ll buy you smoothies for a week or whatever you want. Just—please?”

Paige sighed dramatically, but there was a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “Alright, fine. Let’s do it. But you better make this worth my while.”

“Deal,” you said, standing up and holding out your hand. Paige took it, her grip firm as she followed you away from the bar.

You made sure to walk past your ex’s table, your hand still in Paige’s. As you approached, your ex glanced up, their expression shifting from surprise to something you couldn’t quite place.

“Oh, hey,” you said casually, as if you hadn’t noticed them until just now. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Uh, yeah,” your ex stammered, their eyes darting between you and Paige.

“And who’s this?” Paige asked smoothly, slipping her arm around your waist and smiling at your ex.

“This is...” You trailed off, waiting for your ex to fill in the blanks.

“Emily,” they said, gesturing to their date.

“Nice to meet you, Emily,” Paige said, her tone friendly but laced with just enough confidence to make it clear she wasn’t just a random friend. “I’m Paige.”

Your ex opened their mouth to respond, but before they could, you turned to Paige with a grin. “Baby, want to grab a booth? I’m kind of over standing around.”

“Anything for you,” Paige replied, her voice light but convincing as she pressed a quick kiss to your temple.

You swore you heard your ex choke on their drink as Paige led you away, her hand still firmly around your waist.

Once you were seated, you couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re a natural.”

Paige shrugged, her smile smug. “What can I say? I commit to the bit.”

“Well, thanks for committing. I owe you one,” you said, leaning back in the booth.

She smiled, her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets. “Good. Because I’m holding you to it.”

“No worries,” Paige said, taking a sip of her drink. “Honestly, that was kind of fun. Your ex looked like they were about to combust.”

“Good. They deserve it,” you said, smirking

______________

The night wore on with the two of you sitting close in the booth, trading stories and jokes, the comfortable banter punctuated by occasional glances from your ex across the room. At first, you thought you were imagining it, but each time you looked, there they were—staring, their expression unreadable.

“Yup, they’re watching again,” Paige murmured, sipping her drink.

You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice. “Think they’re jealous yet?”

Paige smirked, her blue eyes sparkling. “If they’re not, they’re in denial. You’re killing it tonight, by the way.”

You laughed softly. “I think you’re the one doing the heavy lifting here. Thanks for being so... convincing.”

“Convincing?” Paige tilted her head, her lips curling into a playful grin. “Come on, I’m practically Oscar-worthy.”

“Okay, fine. You’re a natural,” you said, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself.

Her gaze lingered on you a second longer than necessary, and you felt your stomach do an unexpected flip. You brushed it off, chalking it up to the adrenaline of the situation.

As the night wound down, the two of you finally decided to leave. Paige stood first, offering you her hand with an exaggerated flourish. “M’lady.”

You laughed but took her hand anyway, letting her pull you to your feet. The warmth of her touch lingered longer than it should have, and as you made your way toward the exit, you couldn’t help but feel hyper-aware of how close she was to you.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed your ex again. They weren’t just glancing this time—they were outright staring, their jaw tight, their date clearly trying to get their attention.

Without thinking, you stopped in your tracks, your heart racing.

“What?” Paige asked, turning to you, her brow furrowed.

“They’re still looking,” you whispered, your voice laced with irritation.

Paige raised a brow. “So? Let them look. You’ve already won.”

But you weren’t satisfied. Something about their gaze, their audacity to act so unbothered when you knew they were bothered, made you want to take things one step further.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you turned to Paige and grabbed her by the front of her jacket, pulling her down toward you.

“What are you—” Paige started, but her words were cut off as your lips pressed against hers.

For a second, it was just you making a point—a kiss meant to sell the charade, to make your ex regret every decision they’d ever made. But then Paige kissed you back.

Her hands found your waist, pulling you closer as she deepened the kiss, and suddenly, it wasn’t about your ex anymore. It was about the way her lips felt against yours, soft and sure, like she’d been waiting for this moment as much as you had. The world around you faded, the noise of the bar and the weight of the past dissolving into nothing.

When you finally broke apart, your breath came in short bursts, and Paige’s eyes were searching yours, her cheeks flushed.

“Are we even pretending anymore?” she asked, her voice low, almost a whisper.

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Not at all.”

Paige chuckled softly, her forehead resting against yours. “Good. Because I’m definitely not faking that.”

You laughed, your hand still clutching her jacket as you glanced toward the bar. Your ex was no longer looking—probably too stunned to process what they’d just seen.

“Guess we really sold it, huh?” you teased.

“Yeah, but I think I want a few more practice runs,” Paige said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was hammering in your chest. “Smooth.”

Paige grinned, stepping back but keeping her hand in yours as you walked out of the bar together. The cool night air hit your face, but it didn’t matter. You were too busy stealing glances at the girl beside you, wondering how a fake relationship had turned into something that felt a little too real—and hoping she felt the same.

As if reading your mind, Paige squeezed your hand. “So... about those smoothies you owe me.”

You laughed, the tension between you easing into something warm and comfortable. “I’ll buy you as many as you want. Just... maybe come with me again next time. You know, in case my ex decides to show up somewhere else.”

Paige smirked, leaning closer. “Deal. But next time, we’re not pretending.”

“Not even a little bit.”

I take requests!🧡

[cvnntagious]

:: babydaddy!matt finally confronts brat!reader about her sudden distance, but it doesn’t quite go as expected

conversations like these were hard for matt, to say the least — he hated to feel like he was overstepping boundaries you'd so carefully set in any way, but he had to. everything was going so well between you two. for it to all suddenly slip between his ringed fingers like water? he couldn't just sit back and let you push him away like this.

with the silence in the living room, save for the cartoon mazzy had fallen asleep watching beside matt, he felt a familiar yearning in his chest. now had to be the time. he was done psyching himself out of words like he had the past week now.

standing from his spot, careful not to wake the sleeping toddler, matt practically tip-toed over to your bedroom. your head snapped up when you heard the three soft knocks on your door frame, assuming it was matt getting ready to tell you he was heading home for the night, like had become recent routine. matt then cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets in a brief moment of silence. "you're gonna have to tell me what's wrong eventually, " he finally spoke up, heart pounding in his eardrums like they never had before.

"what?" was your immediate reply, playing dumb as your deadpan facial expression remained unwavering.

matt's eyebrows immediately furrowed, knowing you were just playing games with him now. he couldn't be too upset though, or else he'd never get to the bottom of all your weird behavior. "baby, is it something i did?" he questioned, completely disregarding your clueless act, "we can talk this through; we always do. you just have to tell me what's wrong."

the way you looked at him - like he were some sort of lunatic standing in front of you - he couldn't say it didn't hurt. always being 'mr. fix it' was getting exhausting, and for probably the first time since he met you, matt began to wonder if it was all really worth it. all the games you played, tugging at his heart strings and using your guys' child to manipulate him... there had to be something more out there, right? was driving him crazy fun for you?

a clear desperation wrote itself all over matt's face, his expression as he stood so timidly in your doorway making you want to crawl out of your skin. “matt…” you trailed off, shifting your seated position in your bed.

“what?” he replies, voice coming out in an almost whine-like manner. he felt this insatiable sense of dread wash over him, like he somehow knew what you were going to say before you even said it.

but when you remained silent, he just couldn’t take it anymore. “y- y’know what, forget i even said anything,” he finally breathed out, an empty feeling at the idea of giving up so easily — there was nothing else he could do, though. he knew how you were: if you didn’t want to talk, you simply weren’t going to. that’s what he told himself.

and he began to turn away, one hand clinging to your doorframe as if it were telling him he needed to stay. “matt, come sit.”

he stopped in his tracks, ears practically perking up at the sentence. his head instantly snapped in your direction, bright blue eyes widened in surprise when they caught you patting the empty space of your bed in front if you. he almost didn’t believe it, all the negative emotions that had once rushed through him in painful waves seeming to instantly subside as a glimmer of hope fluttered in his chest.

maybe that was stupid of him, but this was a real step for you two. a big one, he was sure of it. he wasted no time in taking a few steps across the room to reach you, carefully sitting in front of you. watching as matt bit the inside of his cheek in anticipation, a nervous habit he’s had all the time you’ve known him, you took a deep breath to prepare yourself.

matt was so ready. he needed to know what was wrong, eyes eagerly scanning your face at the idea of you finally opening up to him after all this time. “you know you’re a great dad, right?” you muttered, your words much different than what he’d expected.

that caught him off guard, a small twitch in his features telling you he was a bit confused. he wasn’t sure what mazzy had to do with any of this. you two were co-parenting just fine, always have been, whether you were on good terms or not. but he kept quiet, silently urging you to explain yourself.

“and you’re so loving–full of emotions that…” you paused, trying to think of the right words.

somehow, matt was catching on, no longer so pleased with the idea of you ‘opening up’ to him anymore. it was like you’d taken him on a roller coaster he didn’t sign up to ride, and he hated that. “…that i can’t handle.”

right, he knew that. matt knew you were never fond of his big emotions, always telling him he can be too much at times. and he understood. he never wanted to put whatever he was feeling onto you. he wasn’t, though; he knew he wasn’t. so what’s all this about?

it took a moment for matt to think up a response, sighing a bit before he cleared his throat. “i don’t get what that has to do with you acting all weird. i’ve only been trying to keep us together… as a family,” he opposes, shrugging a bit to seem less caught up about this than he actually was.

too quick for matt’s comfort, you nodded, a small hum following. “does that apply to the sex, too?”

almost taken aback, his mouth opened as if he were ready to say something, but nothing came out. “you suck at no strings attached, matthew. i know what you’re thinking every time you come around,” you added, each word like a barbed blade stabbing at an open wound. was this too cruel? no, it couldn’t be—you were only telling him the truth, and god, did he need to hear it. “you think that whenever we’re sleeping together, we’re on ‘good terms’, like it’s grounds for fixing everything and becoming one happy family where your daughter’s parents are happily in love.”

you had him there and he knew it, but for you to just sit and tell him all his efforts are for nothing so easily? he knew there had to be something more to it. you weren’t telling him something. “but when we’re not-”

“it doesn’t work that way. now go home, matt”

and don’t ever say matt was in denial because he’s not… at least, that’s what he told himself as he did the walk of shame from your apartment to his car, that nagging feeling of yearning he’d felt earlier somehow worse now.

w/c : 1.1k

a/n : there will be no part two

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

[oatmealthighs]

plug!eren x blackfem!reader

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 contents: nsfw 18+, MDNI. reader indulges 🍃, eren is overprotective, public sex, maybe semi public? idk. daddy/mama usage. might be some slightly toxic dynamics. but nothing too serious. rushed ending cus i suck at endings 💔 a sequel full of fluff will be coming soon out of this.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 author's note: omg i haven't posted in like months. but anyways what would i be without dropping the token plug!eren drabble. nothing too crazy, just some bathroom sex. also there are instances where there are texts but i got too lazy and didn't bother making texts out of them mwahahahaaa sorry in advance. this is barely proofread and not my best so if there are mistakes i am sorry. requests are open! also look out for a tengen x reader x wives fic coming really soon. like this week soon

the feeling of your phone buzzing in the back pocket of your true religion jeans whisked your attention away from the pearled blunt you had pinched between your fingers.

your glossy lips curled into a little smirk, your acrylics clicking at the keyboard of your screen.

you've been pushing eren's cute lil buttons all night. honestly all day... but you didn't feel bad for making him sweat. he's been trying you as of late.

you and eren were supposed to be spending some quality time together last night, and he was specifically supposed to be over your place by no later than 8:00. you had the whole shabang... bath and body works candle burning out, led lights on and set to the color purple, some of his favorite snacks and some dinner and dessert you had wrapped up for him that you had made earlier. you were planning on watching a show with him, giving him a scalp massage while he played his playstation that he always brought whenever he came over, and give him the best head he's ever received that night before riding him into the sunset, but all those plans went soiled. 8:00 came, and on the dot he had sent a text message about him having to go make a few more drop offs, then he'd come to you. 8 turned to 9, then 10:30, then 1... fucking... AM.

was it fucked up you didn't answer the door when he came knocking finally? kinda, but the guilt didn't last long when you thought about how he practically stood you up.

eren was a popular plug on the university you attended. you knew friday is usually the day that people were trying to cop, given it was majority people's payday and the weekend, but you were hoping that he would close up shop early just this one time for you. his clientele would live-- there were plugs by the dozen on campus. but eren knew wasn't none of them fucking with his shit. you weren't sure what other outcome you were expecting. he never turned his head away from possible income.

eren already knew he fucked up, but he knew ultimately in the end it was going to be worth it. the extra money was going to go into play towards his proposal to ask you to be his girlfriend, and no amount of your anger was going to get that out of him. he was prepared to keep his mouth shut, throw away the key, and take his lashings like a man. so when he was met with radio silence, he was flabbergasted.

when he pulled up to your crib and didn't get an answer from him knocking on your door and calling your phone, he figured you fell asleep and resulted in retreating to his abode. the next morning, when he woke up to find that you didn't respond to his apology texts from last night, it made him sit up in his bed and squint at his phone with crust-ridden eyes.

no response? it was so unlike you. usually you would respond with a barrage of text messages stating your feelings, or at the very least he'd get a passive-aggressive dry text from you. but to be met with nothing at all made his gut twist in a disgustingly vexing way.

he rubs at his temples, sending you a "good morning baby" text before opening the safari app and going to the local floral shop's delivery site.

later that afternoon, eren's sitting in his blacked out durango when he receives email confirmation that the flowers have been delivered, the low hum of the strong engine the only thing somewhat soothing his frazzled nerves. he made sure to get your favorite, and tried to ask them to incorporate your favorite color as much as possible.

he checks your location as he hits his blunt, releasing the smoke from his mouth and inhaling it through his nostrils. he already knows your home, having your schedule downpack. and you were. so why didn't you say anything about the flowers? did you not like them? he sends you a text, saying, "i sent you some flowers," staring at the screen and awaiting your response.

yess, you know he sent you flowers, and you loved them. you had gasped when you found them on your porch, bright and vibrant in color and smelling so freshly sweet. you had already cut the stems and put them in some warm water in a lovely vase. you almost wanted to text eren, to tell him how much you loved them and thank you, but the strong annoyance you had from last night still lingered. with a twist of your lips you disregarded your phone on the kitchen counter, humming a tune as you moved about the kitchen to prepare you a nice lunch.

eren releases a defeated sigh as he puts his jay out, not even in the mood to smoke anymore.

eren releases a defeated sigh as he puts his jay out, not even in the mood to smoke anymore. in defeat, he clicks off his phone, shifting his gear to drive to make more plays.

he spends the rest of the day pondering ways to possibly pull a conversation from you, and a lightbulb flickers in his head when he recalls you saying you were running low on weed. eren always gives you gas free of charge, one of the special privileges that comes with being his favorite girl. he opens his phone to text you again.

doechii's expressive voice flows through your speaker at a volume level most would call excessive. but you didn't care. anything to drown out the annoying pensive thoughts of eren's sexy little face. "i ain't a killer but don't push me, don't wanna have to turn a nigga guts into SOUP BEANS!" no, really, doechii.

your phone vibrates on your vanity as you rummage through your closet for a cute outfit to wear tonight, striding over to your phone with nimbleness. you figured it'd be hitch, since you and her were accompanying each other to the kickback tonight and she was asking either what time you wanted to go or what you were wearing. your hypothesis was proven incorrect when you saw eren's name on your notification wall instead. just him asking if you wanted to him to drop off some more weed for you.

your heart twinged ever-so-softly at the thought of you ignoring your baby. you missed him. it was embarrassing to say this was the longest you went without talking to him. but how would he know you were serious if you just gave in now?

you wanted to respond and tell him you were cool. hitch was bringing the weed tonight. but you refrained, if anything that would get him all the more riled up. eren doesn't like you smoking others weed, his reasoning being he doesn't "trust their product." he was so sexy when he was protective. you remember when you told him you copped from someone else when he had to go off campus for a little bit to see his family, and he spent a half hour inspecting it on the scale with his phone flashlight.

eren let out an irritated growl after constantly checking his phone for 10 minutes, still no reply from you in his notifications. he wanted to tell you you were dragging it, but he knew you weren't. you had every right to be pissed with him given he had promised you this quality time and swore he would make time for you. you were never a stickler for too much attention, but with eren always on the run it was easy for him to neglect you. he's been getting better at it though. until last night.

connie's name flashes across eren's phone screen. he slides the answer button right and lets his car sync the call to the radio. "yo."

"what's good, man. you coming to the kickback tonight? it's gonna be at jean's place." eren rolls his neck until he hears it pop. he knows you'll be there.

"yeah, i might come. today's been slow. don't got nothin' else to do."

"damn, i know that voice. what'd you do this time?"

eren weakly chuckles at connie's intuition. "what can i say, business was booming like crazy last night. we were supposed to hang out but my phone just kept ringing."

connie let out a long sigh over the line. "typical eren, never knows when to close shop." he pauses. "you know you're the asshole, right?"

"yeah," eren groans, shutting his car off and putting his phone on speaker. "i know. i plan on making it up to her."

"yeah, how? surely not with some weed and dick." connie snorts. "[name]'s a nice girl, you plan on locking it down with her anytime soon? i see the way floch be looking at her."

"he wouldn't dare," eren denies, the simple thought of it just making his eye twitch. while you and eren weren't official, basically everyone in the friend group and the vicinity knew y'all were on each other bad. but some assholes just didn't respect boundaries. he noticed floch's gaze would linger on you a little longer than he deemed appropriate. how they would trail your body. he noticed the way his cheeks would blush when you would speak to him in passing or make small talk.

"i dunno, man," connie instigated, smugness in his voice. "but, bring a quarter with you. it's on me, i'm gonna zelle you."

"just send me $50." eren and connie exchange a few last words before they end the call, leaving eren in silence as he stares at the gray wall of the parking garage he was parked in. he didn't know what he was gonna do about you.

eren always tended to look the sexiest when you were mad at him, or he was upset with you. he always would wear his hair down, taupe tresses brushing his broad shoulders. he'd always wear a black tee and some baggy sweatpants that always had you imagining what it was he had underneath. it was nothing you haven't seen, but it was always a pleasant surprise.

you felt your defiance wavering when he and all is glory walked in to jean's house, high as fuck. you swore you could smell his ysl cologne from across the room.

"you okay girl?" sasha questions, her eyebrows pinching in concern as she leans into your eyesight. you blink your mascara coated lashes, giving her a smile.

"yeah, my man just walked in. he always looks so good when im pissed at him."

"it's a trap. don't fall for it." hitch scoffs, her hazel eyes trained on the blunt she was busy rolling. her thighs were squeezed together to keep her carebear rolling tray in place. "don't even look his direction."

"i forget hitch is such a hard-ass. how does marlo manage," ymir jokes. historia chuckles, her head resting against her girlfriend's broad shoulder.

as their conversation goes on, your eyes can't help but find eren again through the decent amount of people crowding the bottom floor of the house, watching him interact with connie and hand him a bag of what you assumed to be cannabis. his turquoise eyes cut across the room, and you know he's looking for you. you look away before any eye contact can happen. when you feel eyes burn into your skin, you know he spots you.

the night involves you acting as if he doesn't exist, keeping your back turned and acting like you're too busy to acknowledge your phone notifications. when you finally light the blunt hitch pearled, you know eren texts you asking where did you get that. you chuckle to yourself as your thoughts were confirmed when you snuck a peek at your phone.

eren feels anger welling in his body as he watches you from a safe distance, lounging against the wall and his eyes never leaving you. you knew what you were doing at this point. wearing them jeans that made your ass sit so perfect and a crop top that teased at your skin and your belly button piercing. your hair was in curls, and your glittery lip gloss shone in the low light of the room. he knew you probably had on his favorite perfume too. that vanilla one he loved so much.

"just go talk to her dude," connie yells over the aggravatingly loud jersey mixed song that was booming through the surround sound, his words slightly slurred from the drink he's been sipping on. eren furrows his thick brows as he hits his spliff, watching the tip burn bright orange as he shuts his eyes for a moment. "and you better hurry. i think tonight's the night floch makes his move."

"connie, shut the fuck up." eren's tone is firm and warning as he feels the vein in his neck rising to the surface of his skin. he finally opens his eyes, glancing at you, and what he sees makes his stomach cave and everything around him turn red.

floch, with his ugly fucking haircut and that ugly dangling earring had the audacity to be all up in your glory, smiling sheepishly as you were saying something to him. he doesn't know what you were saying, your back was to him, but the way your head swayed and your hands were moving he knew you were talking.

honestly eren was never this defensive of someone before. maybe it was your constant insistence of you being fine on your own. "boy, i'm grown," you'd say to him. it only made his instinct to protect you grow stronger.

he knew well you could handle your own. but how fucking dare him?! it's like floch was begging for an ass whooping!

he wasn't actually. he was begging for you to send him the homework answers for your chem class. "not gonna lie floch, i haven't even looked at that shit yet," you admit with a shrug, your lips pulled into a friendly smile.

floch groans as he rubs the back of his neck. "i'm for sure gonna flunk that class. i might just say fuck it and retake it next year."

"not if i can help it," you interject, furrowing your brows. "we pass together, we fail together. i'll send you the answers on groupme tomorrow when i finish."

floch pumps his fist. "man, you're the fucking best, [name]. if you weren't in there i dunno what i'd–"

a hard body brushes past floch, harshly and intentionally slamming his shoulder into theirs. "hey, man, what the–"

you smell eren before you see him, wearing that delicious cologne that's stained into your bed sheets. you look up to find him looking down at you, fire in his sea green irises as he glares at you.

you feign oblivion, lifting an eyebrow at him. "hey," you speak first.

"why haven't you been responding to my texts." his voice is curt, but still soft nonetheless. you feel your girls looking at you intently to see how you were going to play this.

"been busy, sorry," you respond, not sounding much too apologetic.

eren cuts his eyes to the right to see floch still standing there, much to his distaste, a look of confusion plastered across his face. "you need somethin'?" he asks him, a foreign, cutting edge to his question.

"i was just trying to ask her about the homework, dude," floch bites back defensively, taking the smallest step back.

your dainty hand trails up to grab eren's forearm, your soft, irreplicable touch quelling his aggravation. you swear you could feel his taut muscles relax at your contact, knowing he was probably deprived. so dramatic.

"eren, calm down," you reprimand him gently, but sternly. you gave floch an apologetic glance. "sorry, floch. see you tuesday."

floch nods, his auburn eyebrows creased in the middle as he glanced at eren, then back at you, before departing. in tandem, you let go.

"what's your problem," you seethe, but not loud enough for your friends to hear. "you damn near made that boy shit his pants."

eren sucked his teeth, closing his eyes to roll them as he clenched his jaw. "why are you ignoring me, [name]," his low voice is strained, constricting his internal anger to the best of his ability. his high was blown, the music was too loud, you smelled and looked too good, it was all too much.

you place a hand on your hip, your beautiful eyes passive, but holding a glint of hurt behind them. "just collect your breath. i don't wanna talk about it here... even though you know what the problem is-"

"yo, [name], wanna hit this again?" saved by the bell.

"yes, pleaseeee," you drawl. you turn on heels, but not before telling eren, "i'll see you later."

shortly after eren departed to god knows where, and you got high as hell, was when you received that text. and you don't know if it was the marijuana making you fuzzy and horny, the growing urge to just be in his arms, or what, but you complied.

as you brushed and weaved between drunken bodies, you couldn't subdue the underlying feelings of anxiety that swelled in your chest. you didn't know what to expect. but you knew one thing for certain, you were gonna give eren a piece of your mind tonight.

when you finally made it to the bathroom door, you released a breath you didn't even realize you were holding, shaking yourself of your jittery nerves before your knuckles rapped against the hollow wood of the door.

it wasn't even three seconds before eren cracked the door, and before you could say anything, you were yanked in.

you squealed at his presentation of strength, the butterflies in your stomach downward-diving straight to your core. "well, damn! what happened to hello? how are you?!"

eren ignored your playful reprimanding, instead using the time to soak and drink you in. you were so pretty, fussing at him like that. the way your glossy lips twisted as you spoke on about nothing relevant, the way your hair swayed with every movement you made. every muscle in his body urged him to kiss you, breathe you in.

"whatcha call me in here for? it's hot as hell..." you murmured, leaning against the cool wood of the door in attempt to catch your breath.

eren was quiet as he loomed on the opposite side of the bathroom, half-lidded cyan eyes carefully trained on you. you lifted your eyebrows with a shake of your head, prompting him to go on, your arms crossed against your glittery chest. "you're so pretty," he hums, a side smirk playing at his lips, showing his pretty white teeth that you wish you were nibbling on you just about right now.

"can't smooth-talk your way out of everything, eren," you resisted with a strain in your voice, turning to face the mirror to the left of you instead of him. "i'm still upset with you."

"rightfully so," eren agrees, slowly closing the distance between the two of you, backing you against the cool oak wood of the bathroom door. "'m sorry baby, you know i love spending time with you more than anything in this world–"

"i beg to differ," you interject. eren rests his eyes as he clenches his jaw, withholding a sigh. "all i asked was that you put me first for one night... and you couldn't even do that."

"baby, listen to me." eren's large hand engulfs yours, the warmth of his palm spreading through your limbs like wildfire. "words can't even begin to express how deeply sorry i am. i know i fucked up... i know. but, i had reason i've been wanting to work a lot more often as of late." he pauses. he couldn’t possibly pop his question in a bathroom at connie’s party. you’d hate him ten times more than you already do in his moment.

you cock your brow, looking up at him through those pretty lashes that framed your eyes so well. “i’m waiting, eren.”

he sucks in a deep breath, making the sound he usually makes when he’s about to say something you don’t like. “just… trust me. okay?”

that was enough to make you head for the door, reaching out to twist at the knob before he grabs at your wrist. “man, move,” you mutter, over the bullshit. you were over it all: the lies, the empty promises. and you were especially over being crowded in this bathroom with him, because you felt your resolve faltering with each passing second you remained in his presence. you felt like an animal resisting every primal instinct and bone in your body, begging you to let him touch you. it was borderline pathetic.

“you aren’t going anywhere, [name].” he meant that in more ways than one.

“how much you wanna bet?”

the frustrated glint in his aquamarine eyes and the knit in his thick brows made your knees give.

“ummm, have you guys seen [name]?” hitch asks after a good thirty minutes fly by since you first departed the group, skating her eyes around the living room with a quizzical glance.

ymir snorts. “you already know she ran off with that boy,” she exhaled the smoke she was holding in her chest out towards the ceiling, running her long fingers through historia’s golden locks. “wouldn’t be surprised if she already dipped off with him.”

not quite. instead, you and eren were still in the bathroom, your ass on the bathroom counter and your head resting against the mirror as eren was crouched before you, low to the ground as he slurped at your pussy like a man starved. he looks up at you from his place between your thighs, tongue flicking at your swollen clit before taking it into his mouth to suck on it whole. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your eyes rolling behind your closed eyelids as eren gazed up at you with hearts in his eyes. you were always so fucking beautiful, whether you were mad at him, grinning at him, or cumming for him.

“fuuuck, i think i’m bouta cum again,” you whimper, your eyebrows pinched as your orgasm brewed at a slow boil within the pit of your stomach. you already left your mark all over the marble sink, leaking down your thighs, and all over eren’s chin. but when was that ever enough to satiate his thirst?

“do it, baby,” he breathes, french kissing your pussy before speaking again. “you know i want it.”

“get it outta me, then,” you retort, a sexy simper pulling at your lips, and the darkened glare he have you through heavy eyelids made your pussy squeeze.

his big hands grip your thighs, blunt nails digging in your skin as he begins rocking your lower body up and down, sliding his long tongue from between your pussy lips to your ass with each bounce. you let out a squeal of surprise, your pink toes wriggling as he just kept doing it, over and over and over. you hear him, moaning with each stride, reveling in the saccharine taste of you. his dick felt like it was bouta break, restricted to his boxer briefs, and he felt the sticky precum leaking on his thigh. he needed to fuck you. but he always prioritizes you over all.

your orgasm bust inside you, your pussy profusely contracting as your juices coated eren’s face. “fuck, yeah,” he encourages in you, his voice in a low growl of satisfaction. he didn’t stop, cleaning you up and slurping your pussy clean. you flinched as he left a final loving kiss to your aching clit, and he chuckled as he stood to his feet. your eyes couldn’t help but look at his crotch, you couldn’t help but smirk at the prominent tent of his stiff dick being held hostage in his sweatpants. “turn around for me. i want you to see me fuck you.”

you slid off off the counter, ringing your panties off the ankle they were hanging on to, before turning around, leaning against the sink and arching your back. you looked back at him, gazing at him tauntingly. “whatchu waiting for?”

“cool it,” he warns you playfully, his thumbs hooking into the bands of his sweats. "don't bite off more than you can chew."

"i've had mouthfuls of you. i promise you i can chew."

"look at the mirror."

you turn back forward, looking at eren in the reflection. he was so pretty, his hickory locks tousled around yet still framing his face beautifully. his bottom lip was pinched between his teeth as he shifts his pants to fall below his knees before rolling his briefs down his thighs. he lifts his tshirt up, showcasing his tan abs that had a slight shimmer of perspiration as he readies the head of his dick at your opening. then, with steady hips and a deep breath, he pushes forward.

him putting his cock inside of you was such an irreplicable feeling, you don't know how to explain it. to feel his girth stretching you, giving you a burn that was so deliciously good, always made your head spin. you whine, pushing your ass back just a little bit to help eren bottom out in you. he cusses under his breath, grounding himself with a hand on your ass cheek as his pelvis met flush against your tailbone.

you felt his dick twitching inside you, and you couldn't help but let out a satisfied moan as you let your head drop against your arms folded over the sink. eren grit his teeth, his jaw clenching as he tries to regain his composure. you were so warm, so wet, so greedy judging by the way your pussy squeezed him like a vice. any sudden movements and he was bound to nut in you.

suddenly, the bathroom knob jiggles, followed by pounding against the door. you jump, your muscles stiffening as fear tickled at your tummy. eren hisses, his nails digging crescents in your cocoa buttered skin at you tightening around him. "uh, anyone in there? i gotta piss!" connie. what are the fucking odds.

"uhh, give me a few minutes!" you yell, your voice uncharacteristically shrill from your newborn anxiety as you looked back at eren with wide eyes. "maybe we should-"

you were shut up with one, heavy stroke, eren almost completely unsheathing himself before bottoming out in you again. your words died in your throat, replaced with a gasp.

"uh, okay...?" the end of connie's okay drawls up in the end. "wait, [name], is that you? are you straight in there?"

"yes... fuck, yes!" you sputter out, squeezing your eyes shut as eren picks up his speed a bit, but not his power. he was gonna do you a favor and not fuck you too dumb in here. he wants you to at least have some chance of walking out of here on your own two feet. "i'm fine!"

"okay, okay! i'll just go upstairs." after a few seconds, you hear connie shifting away, but that genuinely wasn't your main focus. eren was rolling his hips, making sure the tip of his dick hit that sweet spot that made you sing with every. single. thrust. your head was down, resting against the counter, your eyes stuck in the back of your head as you took every inch of him with grace. your moans were mere whimpers, trying your best to muffle them with the inside of your arm.

eren sees his phone vibrate from his place on the hanging shelf beside him, and he smirks to himself when he takes a brisk glance at the banner:

convict: [name]'s in the bathroom. she didnt sound too great so u should prolly check in on her

eren groans under his breath, leaning forward to mold his abdomen against the curvature of your spine. that motion was enough to make him feel like he was touching your stomach. "what are you doing?" he purrs, flicking his tongue out to lick at the shell of your ear. he feels you shiver, your shoulders shuddering as a sex-soaked cry escaped your lips. "i said i want you to watch me fuck you. why are you hiding that pretty face?"

you had nothing but a pathetic moan to offer as a response, and he scoffed to himself, a smirk curling at his lips. he stands straight, both of his hands settling at your lovehandles as he begins sending you to poundtown. the impact of his hips against your ass was loud, and there was no doubt that if anyone came to the door they would hear you getting the shit fucked out of you. "be a big girl, mama," he muses. his hand reaches for your curls, gripping your tresses to pull your head up and back. you squealed, your eyebrows pinching at the burning sensation. you mustered up the courage to flutter your eyes open to be met with the godly sight of your man, looking down at you throw those thick eyelashes, his cheeks tinting pink from the overwhelming heat of the small, crammed space. " watch me while i fuck you."

his wish is your command as you watch him through teary eyes, licking your lips at the feeling his hand snaking up the arch of your spine to come around and grip your chin. the pads of his fingers rest on your cheeks, slightly squeezing as he snaps his hips against you from behind. his eyes are boring into you, clouded by lust with a hint of adoration, watching the way your face contorts into pleasure-ridden expressions. he's watching the way your plump lips wrap around his thumb, the way your titties bounce with every deep thrust and threaten to spill out your victoria's secret bra and tank top, the way that fat ass jiggled and made waves every time he drilled his dick in you. you were perfect. from your pretty face, to your loving heart that had a padlock with his initial on it, to your gushing pussy that would squirt all over him just for him.

"this pussy is so perfect," eren hums, looking down in awe as he watches the way you cream and squeeze on his shaft. "it's like it was made just for me. was it, baby? this is just my pussy, right?"

"you know that, daddy," you slur, feeling your orgasm coming to a head. you were so ready to release, your pussy just aching to cum. you hear him give a chuckle, his hips speeding up in tandem.

"i think you're ready to cum now. i want it all on my dick. can you do that for me, princess? or is that too much to ask of you?"

but before you could even muster a response, it was as if a tsunami hit your pussy, because the way your juices sprayed against his upper thighs was a damn shame. eren lets out a moan of appreciation, biting his lip as he lets your orgasm ride out and coat his dick. he gives your ass a few appreciative cracks, making you tighten around his cock until you managed to collect your breath.

eren slowly begins unsheathing himself from you, his dick still solid as concrete but he honestly wasn't concerned with getting his own nut off right now. after all, this wasn't going to be the last time he was to be in you tonight. as soon as he takes you back to his place, he was gonna fuck you through the mattress and the bedframe.

...

"girl, there you are! you've been missing for like, an hour!" you bumped into hitch on your way towards the front door, eren being your guide but you squeezed his hand to let him know to stop. she shifts her eyes to him, then looks back at you with an "oh-i-see" look. "you headed home?"

"yeah, eren's gonna take me."

"okay, be safe," hitch adjusts your shirt, tugging the top hem over the shadows of your peeking bra. "call me when you get in."

"she will." eren assures hitch, and she nods, the two of you slipping away from the crowd and going off into the night.

[cybrasigilism]

Hiiii I was just wondering if you could make a Semi player 380 NSFW Alphabet eventually? If so thank you 💗💗💗

absolutely! i apologize for the long wait i just wanted to give myself an alphabet break :)

NSFW Alphabet with Player 380/Se-mi!

warning: smut and all things of the like | not proofread | lowercase intended | WINNERS THAT LOVE WINNING (i cannot picture se-mi with a man im so sorry) | any letters i skip over are topics i couldn’t think of, apologies! | this is my interpretation of this character, please be respectful even if my opinions on the character differ from your own

character: se-mi (player 380)

A/N: OMG THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 400 FOLLOWERS AAAAA!!!! IM ETERNALLY GRATEFUL THAT YOU’VE ALL GIVEN ME A PLATFORM TO SHARE MY PASSION FOR WRITING 😭😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏💜💜💜💜💜💜💜 A MILLION APOLOGIES FOR HOW LONG THIS HAS BEEN A WAIT FOR!! i hope its worth the time that’s passed, please enjoy!

MDNI! 18+ under the cut, readers discretion is advised

A= Aftercare what they’re like after sex

↳ she’s very attentive with aftercare. trust a bath will be drawn for you two post-fucking™️, and you will be getting shoulder massages all the while

C= Cum anything to do with cum

↳ will try to make you squirt I MEAN HUHH

D= Dirty secret a dirty secret of theirs, no way

↳ loves when you play with her nipple rings when you suck on her tits

E= Experience how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing etc.

↳ oh this woman is skilled. she knows what she’s doing alright, especially with her tongue; she works sweet magic with that thing

F= Favourite position i fear if i have to explain this one idk what to tell you

↳ any position where she can see your pretty face is her favourite, in her own words. her being on top is another pre-requisite, but she’ll bend the rules if you really want it

G= Goofy are they more serious in the moment, are they humorous etc.

↳ she loves to tease you in the moment, so that answers that question. it’s never intentionally mean-spirited though

I= Intimate how are they in the moment? the romantic aspect

↳ no matter how rough you guys get, she always states how much she loves you and how you mean the world to her etc. she will always use sex as an ample opportunity to express her deep love for you

J= Jack off masturbation headcanons

↳ loves when you finger yourself in front of her

K= Kinks one or more of their kinks

↳ bondage, for sure has a blindfold fetish too

L= Location their favourite place to do the do

↳ her favourite place to get it on is 100% the back of the car, especially on rainy nights

M= Motivation what turns them on? what gets them going?

↳ loves when you compliment/praise her on anything. this + when you hug her from behind and kiss her neck

N= No something they won’t do

↳ non-con or dubcon. point blank

O= Oral their preference on giving or receiving, their skill level etc.

↳ she loves and i mean loves eating you out. the sounds you make, the way you frantically grasp for her hand when you get close, everything about it drives her up the wall. she’s quite skilled at this too (i may or may not headcanon her to have a tongue piercing so do with that as you must)

P= Pace are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

↳ she definitely isn’t picky on pace. you guys have done it all. from rough, sloppy quickie to gentle, intimate lovemaking— you two truly have done everything

Q= Quickie their opinions on quickies? how often etc.

↳ she’s down for a quickie, sure. she definitely won’t turn her nose up if you beg the way you know she likes

R= Risk are they game to experiment?

↳ definitely the experimental type in bed, for sure. it was daunting at first but you quickly got used to trying new things (with a safeword always)

S= Stamina how many rounds can they go for? how long can they last? etc.

↳ she can definitely hold out for a decent period of time, think 9-10 minutes. for a matter of rounds however, she can only do about 2-3 rounds before becoming overstimulated

T= Toys do they have any toys? do they use them on their partner? etc.

↳ she’s got a strap. again, do with this what you will

U= Unfair how much they like to tease

↳ oh you can bet se-mi is going to tease you, and she’ll be mean about it if she really wants too. the teasing is especially torturous if she’s using her strap on you

V= Volume how loud are they? what sounds do they make etc.

↳ she moans, no fear. i feel like she would definitely match your energy when you guys are going at it, sometimes its in a teasing manner, but sometimes its simply out of habit. the things she says to you in bed, oh man, they really do vary. but you can expect these phrases, just to name a few:

“fuck, doing so good for me.. keep touching that pretty pussy for me honey”

“you’re perfect, i could eat you for hours…”

“just one more… please, all i need is one more from you, pretty girl”

W= Wildcard a random headcanon

↳ owns a dominatrix outfit

X= X-Ray what’s going on under those clothes?

↳ she’s definitely got a sleeper build, you cannot tell me this woman doesn’t work out at least a little bit. she’s got body piercings too (tongue, naval + nipple piercings), as well as many tattoos, namely an under boob tattoo

Y= Yearning how high is their sex drive?

↳ oh buddy, once you get her going, good luck coming to a stop anytime soon

Z= Zzz how fast do they fall asleep after

↳ after a especially rough session, she tends to fall asleep quite easily. but if you guys were more gentle she won’t be tired at all, in fact she’ll let you sleep on her chest as she plays with your hair all while you doze off

★ ────────

the time has come! the se-mi NSFW alphabet is FINALLY AMONG US, i again want to apologize for how long this took to come out, but i’m happy to report it’s UP AND RUNNING!!!

as always, any advice/constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing is appreciated and requested! have a fantastic night/day lovelies 💗

tags: @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @room-722

[cherrysweets-world]

Eyes of the Gods V

series masterlist - part IV

Pairing: Caracalla x fem!Reader x Geta

Summary: The Emperors are not subtle with their interest in you and others have begun to notice

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, eventual dub-con, power imbalances, mentions of previous domestic abuse, controlling behaviour, forced proximity, obsessive behaviour, unhealthy realtionships, unedited

Word Count: 3.5k

Sleep would not come. You tossed and turned for several hours before giving in and re-lighting the candle. Holding your fingers in the warmth of the flame, you began to contemplate your life.

The candlelight flickered and made you feel like the walls were closing in. In some aspects they already had. The walls had closed in without you even knowing it, so distracted by your own wariness. Now you were here, alone, and in reach of the emperors who had put you here.

How had you been so blind? Your own lack of self worth had made you stupid, disbelieving that the Emperors could have such interest in you. You had floated through those first two days, thinking that at any moment they would drop you, bored, like a forgotten toy. To your knowledge that was what usually happened! You had even see it; limping concubines and abandoned slaves. Instead, whatever was between the three of you had grown and mutated into something you had no hope in understanding.

The Emperors had power, yes, there was no denying it. Yet part of you felt as though you were giving them more. Specifically over you. They had not said you could not leave your rooms. So why stay when sleep insisted on evading you?

Your father had had that kind of hold on you and your mother. The situations were not perfectly similar but you were loathe to think you had allowed another man to control you like that. The thoughts made you feel irrational, made you feel like doing something dangerous.

The flame licked at your finger tips and you hissed, pulling them back to your chest. You knew this palace well. Better than the Emperors, even. You knew all the secret spots, all the ways to sneak around without being spotted. Perhaps it was time to put that knowledge to good use. A tiny rebellion of sorts.

Your mind was made up. If you thought on it too long you would lose all courage. Slipping into your sandals, you tried not to think too hard about what you were doing.

"I am going for a walk in the gardens," you said to yourself, "as I am entitled to do. I have not been told I cannot do otherwise."

The look Geta had given you flashed across your eyes and you squeezed them shut, dismissing him.

Reaching under your mattress, you gave your carved wolf a squeeze and then let go. You mumbled a quick prayed to Fortuna and then slowly opened your door, scanning the corridors before poking out your head.

There was no-one you could see. That did not mean that no-one was actually there; you were too close to the Emperor's chambers for their to be no Praetorians.

Part of you knew you were taking a risk. If you were so confident that you were allowed to leave your room then why did you feel the need to evade the Praetorians?

You scrubbed your sweaty palms down your sleepwear. The plain white wrap would make you a glaring target but your other options were no better. It did not matter; you needed fresh air. Needed to take it without the weight of eyes upon you. The illusion of freedom was better than nothing.

You slipped from your room like a breath in the wind. As expected, the first hallway you came to was lined with Praetorians. You wasted no time in slipping by them, dipping into a stairwell and tip-toeing down.

All you could hear was the pounding of your own heart. The sound made you dizzy and you allowed yourself to stop for a moment, steadying yourself. Trembling, you stumbled down the rest of the stairs under you reached a landing. There were yet more guards but they were looking for people sneaking in, rather than out. Waiting until their backs were turned, you made a mad dash for freedom.

The rest of the way was mercifully quiet. Slowing down, you appreciated the silence. Yours were the one footsteps you could hear. It was funny; that night, when you had first met Caracalla, you had been terrified of these empty halls. Now they curved around you, protective, and you brushed a hand against them in familiarity.

Cool air blasted you when you finally stepped foot outside. You laughed and it was immediately lost to the wind. You were not as weak as you thought. You would do whatever you could to hold onto this feeling of dependence.

The air was biting and made your eyes water. Staying out here for long was not an option. Goosebumps emerged along your arms and thighs as the wind pushed itself under your clothes.

When the gusts softened, you wandered further out. You allowed yourself slow appraisals of all the flowers, most of which you did not recognise. You had had no interest in gardening before but they suddenly felt like the most beautiful thing in the world.

Your past and present slipped from you like water. In this moment, it was only you. You could pretend that you had all the choices in the world.

And you did have choices. It was the consequences that scared you. You wished you could peer into the future and see all the possible answers, all the solutions, and make your mind based on those. But you were no seer; the future was barred from your questioning eyes. You would simply have to wait and go the long way around to see what the future held.

An abrupt sound startled you and you whipped around, eyes searching. At first you thought the garden was empty and you relaxed, releasing your death-grip on your elbows.

A flash of red made your head swim and you stood still, mouth parting. No, you almost moaned, no, no, no.

Gravel crunched underfoot as Geta appeared, rounding a flower bed and jerking to a stop. His cheeks were red despite being dressed warmer than you. His mouth parted at the sight of you and you swallowed hard.

Fortuna, you languished, you have forsaken me.

It took you a moment to realise it was not bad luck or coincidence that Geta had stumbled across you. It was difficult to see them through the myriad of plants but several Praetorians had accompanied Geta to the gardens. It seemed that you had not been quite as subtle as you had thought.

Geta started towards you and you squeaked, not daring to back away. It took only several paces before he reached you, grasping your elbows and yanking you to his chest.

"You," he gaped," what were you thinking?"

He gave you a hard shake to force the answer out of you. He was out of breath, almost gasping, and you were stunned into silence.

"Come," he barked, yanking you back the way he came.

You lurched after him, gravel grazing the tips of your toes. Thought escape you and all you could do was lock your eyes on the back of Geta's robe. The pattern was exquisite and you wondered what it would feel like beneath your fingers.

You expected him to let you go once you were back inside but he did not. He continued to pull you along, barking orders at Praetorians, all the way back to your rooms. Your face crumpled at the sight of it but you did not protest as he wrenched you inside and shut the door, sealing both him and you in.

He swiped a hand over his face, shaking. "Do you have any idea how fortunate you are that it was not Caracalla who stumbled upon your ridiculous little escape plan?"

"I -"

"You are well aware that he has some sort of dependency on you," Geta continued, pacing back and forth, "yet you would abandon him at the first chance you had?"

"No, no," you shook your head, "I wanted only to see the gardens!"

Geta stopped, eying you with disbelief. He looked on edge. He almost reminded you of Caracalla in one of his episodes. The more you learned, the more you realised how similar they were.

"The gardens?" he spat. "In the middle of the night? In the cold?"

You brushed your fingers down your arms, embarrassed. "Yes."

Geta shook his head, eyes flickering all over you. His eyes narrowed as he finally seemed to register what you were wearing. "And in those clothes?"

Nothing you said was going to make him calm down. You let your eyes settle on the floor and thinned your lips.

"You could have asked," he finally said, shoulders sagging inward.

"Asked?"

"To see the gardens," he threw his hands into the air. "I would have had someone accompany you. You could not comprehend the trouble you have caused tonight."

"What right do I have to ask for anything?" you said, shocked. "I am a servant, barely more than a slave."

Geta studied you in that way you had become almost used to. His mouth worked, opening and closing several times before settling into a fine line.

"Yes," he agreed, "and you will obey your emperors. You are not to leave your room till morning and we will have someone fetch you when we are ready. Goodnight."

He turned to your bed and yanked up the sheet, throwing it upon you before exiting from the room. He slammed the door shut and you stood in stunned silence, frozen until you heard the deathly sound of a lock sliding shut.

"No," you murmured at first, then quickly got louder. "No, don't!"

Your emotions spilled out of you all at once. Throwing yourself against the door you began to pound upon it. Geta was still outside; you could see his shadow lingering beneath the door.

"Please," you begged, "I am sorry, Emperor, please."

The shadow disappeared as though it had never been there. Choking on your own tears, you rested your forehead against the wood, fists aching. You let out one long, primal scream and then fell back, yanking the covers over your head and angrily wiping your tears away with the back of your hand.

You fell asleep like that, hands clenching the covers and cursing whatever Gods had pushed this fate upon you.

True to his word, Geta did send someone the next morning. A Praetorian soldier opened the door and peered in, cringing at your rumpled form on the bed.

"I am Consus," he said reluctantly. "The Emperors have sent me to retrieve you."

You scowled at the innocent man, dragging your body from the sheets. Your head was pounding and there were multiple spots on your hands where the skin had cracked and bled from your pounding on the door.

You were still in your bed clothes. Dirt stained the bottom and there were smears of blood dotted all over it.

"I need to get ready," you grumbled.

"That. . .will not be necessary," the guard said. "You will be relieved of your usual duties today but you must accompany me to the emperors."

Usual duties, you thought, whatever those were. But you were in no mood to argue so you stomped into your sandals and trailed after Consus. Whatever fight you had left had been squeezed out of you late last night. Now there was only the stinging of your hands and aching of your head.

It took less than two minutes to reach Geta's quarters. You had been foolish to think he would not learn of your brief dash for freedom.

Consus held open the door and announced your presence to the room. No-one had ever done that before. You had not been important enough.

You held your head up as much as you could and entered the room. Caracalla was the first to see you. It was almost comical the way his grin dropped from his face.

He stood up so fast that Dondus squeaked and leapt from his shoulder. He stormed over to you and cupped your hands in his, turning them over again and again as though he could not believe what he was seeing.

"What is this?" he was horrified. As though he had not caused worse injuries and found amusement in them.

"Brother," he snapped, "look. Someone has - someone has -"

Geta finally looked up. Despite being the last to see you, he was also stunned by your appearance. He swallowed harshly and stood straighter.

"She had a rough night, brother," he attempted to soothe Caracalla. "The healer is on the way."

His eyes told you not to say anything. You would not. There was no telling how Caracalla would react if he learned the truth of your escapade last night. Even though you had not truly tried to escape, it only mattered that Geta thought you had.

Caracalla yanked a hand through his hair. "Brother -"

"Enough," Geta raised his voice. "She is hurting. Let her sit."

The words seemed to do something to Caracalla and he steered you to a plush sofa, pulling you down so that you were half on his lap. You had no will to try to move and only sagged, letting Caracalla's hands wander over you.

It was strange how his jerky movements almost soothed you. Perhaps you were only glad for the company, having spent majority of last night confined to your quarters.

"Where does it hurt?" he whispered, eyes fixated on the darkened blood on your clothing.

"My head," you admitted, "and my hands."

Caracalla dusted careful fingers over your temples before turning his attention to your hands. He brought them to his face and kissed your palms. Your eyes welled from the soft touches. He murmured sweet nothings, brows furrowed as he took in your injuries. The smaller they were, the more they hurt. You sucked in a breath when his tongue darted out and swiped over a cut.

Consus appeared in the door once more, this time announcing the healer. The gentleman walked in, holding a leather bag that clinked with ointments and creams.

"Leave them and get out," Caracalla demanded, becoming louder when the man stalled. "Out!"

You would have felt pity for the man on any other day. He shrugged the bag from his shoulder and left it on a table, backing out of the room with his hands held up.

To your surprise it was Geta who retrieved the bag, handing it carefully to his brother. He eyed you in the way he often did and you held his gaze. Something like guilt flickered over his face but it was gone before you could analyse it.

Caracalla busied himself with the contents of the bag. He held up an expensive looking jar of cream and set it aside before picking up something much more recognisable - a small bottle of alcohol.

He popped the cork off. "This will sting."

You gasped and tried to yank your hands away but Caracalla held them steady as he dribbled small amounts of the liquid onto your palms. He used his own clothing to wipe away the traces of blood as if was nothing.

The cream was better. He dabbed it onto your cuts, glancing up at your face to gauge your reaction. You tried not to dwell to much on the fact that an Emperor of Rome was treating your superficial wounds.

"Better?" he asked.

"Better," you nodded. "Thank you, Emperor."

He looked over his shoulder and then back at you before leaning in to whisper, "You can address me as Caracalla."

A lump lodged itself in your throat. How many times had Caracalla been treated for his own injuries that he knew how to treat you for yours?

"What truly happened last night?" he asked you, careful to make sure Geta could not hear.

"Emperor Geta locked me in my room," you answered honestly.

Caracalla thought about it for a moment. "It is better that way," he decided. "It keeps you safe. Don't you want to be safe for us?"

Of course. Caracalla was no different to his brother though you could not pretend to understand their emotions or motivations.

Geta was watching the pair of you. He looked down when you noticed, pretending to be ensconced in his paperwork. Ignoring you just as he did last night when he left you screaming in your room.

You spent the whole day laying about in Geta's chambers. Caracalla doted on you, feeding you bits of food and checking on your wounds.

The more he touched you the harder it was to pull away. His touches got firmer, bolder; the back of your neck, your arms, even your thighs when you shifted. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier until it was impossible to ignore the blatant way he was panting over you.

And it was not as though you were immune to his caresses.

After a few hours of torture, Geta turned his attention back to you.

"There is a gathering tonight," he said, "you will get ready."

"And what am I to do at this gathering?" you boldly asked.

Geta pulled you from the plush cushions by your wrist. He leaned in close. "You are going because I cannot trust you enough to leave you alone. Do not complain; it is unbecoming of a young lady such as yourself."

His mocking tone sent a spike of anger through you. You deigned not to respond. Such blatant disrespect was stupid but you were still unfathomably angry that he had locked you away. You wanted to say that he had no right but, as Emperor, he did. Geta and Caracalla could do anything they wished and you were constantly reminded of it.

Geta pointed you to some clothes hanging up on a privacy screen. He dragged Caracalla away so you could change in peace - an apology of sorts? You yanked on the clothing and tried to let your temper cool. It would do you no good to have an attitude in the presence of others.

Once more you were back in the entertainment hall. Geta had you stationed by a wall, offering cups to anyone who wanted one. It was obvious you had been placed there only because it kept you firmly in his sight.

After an hour you found yourself feeling calmer, taking purpose in your small task. The familiarity made you at ease and you were able to put the Emperors to the back of your mind.

They were surrounded by concubines and tittering senators. A woman was perched on the cushions behind Geta, rubbing a hand on his shoulder and occasionally allowing it to dip beneath his clothing. Geta met your eyes across the room and leaned back, allowing her further contact.

The concubines were having a difficult time with Caracalla. He would relax into their forward touches and then suddenly jerk forward, shoving them away and screaming obscenities. You had never seen him quite so wild at a gathering; it was known that Caracalla enjoyed parties and was most approachable during them.

The concubines did not know what to do with themselves. Breaking point was reached when one dared to slip his hand beneath Caracalla's tunic. Immediately Caracalla was upon the man, hands flying in every which direction and beating the him to a near pulp.

How was this the same man who had so softly attended to you earlier? Your anger seeped away and was replaced by familiar fear. What would it take for him to turn on you like that?

Praetorians approached and dragged the concubine away. The party continued as though nothing at happened. These people cared not for the lives of those below them.

Caracalla's eyes darted about the room. Searching for you, no doubt. You recoiled into the wall and shrank in on yourself, desperate to go unnoticed.

Someone did spot you, but it was not Caracalla. The master of gladiators gave you a predators smile and sauntered over, plucking a cup from the tray you were holding.

Something about Macrinus unnerved you. His smile was open enough but you did not trust the man. That had never mattered before when you were a simple servant in the kitchen but now. . .

"It is you," he smiled teasingly, bumping you with his elbow.

You recoiled at the unwanted touch. "I'm sorry?"

"You," he repeated, " who has enamoured the emperors and now takes up so much of their time."

Something cold slithered into your stomach. You did not like Macrinus - did not like that this man knew so much about you.

"I. . .do not know what you are speaking of," the lie caught in your throat but you pushed it out anyway.

Macrinus laughed, loud and cold. "I think you do."

At that moment Caracalla appeared, wrapping his hand around your elbow and exposing the lie you had told.

"I want to leave," he grumbled, "come now."

He uttered a tense greeting to Macrinus and dragged you from the room. You went willingly, thankful for any distance between yourself and the master of gladiators and his sharp smile.

Caracalla was rougher than usual as he tugged you along. This time to his chambers. He kept looking over your shoulder and muttering to himself, yanking you closer and closer until you were almost tripping over each other. You were not overly alarmed; you had faith that you would be able to pacify him.

Your mind was preoccupied with your brief meeting with Macrinus. The emperors made you uneasy but it was nothing to do with the sickening feel Macrinus evoked in you.

Authors Note - This might be my favourite chapter yet idkkkk - please let me know what you think! Please like, comment, reblog if you enjoyed and don’t be afraid to send asks because they are my favourite thing

taglist - @only4thefics @doodle-with-rhy @lover-rep-fanfic @claraisme23 @sashaphantomhive @multifandombtch @t6gse370

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[gf2bellamy]

enough ( part two ) — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: it's been a week since your conversation with spencer content warnings: mention of insecurites , very emotional , a/n: a lot of people asked for a pt2 so here it is :) hope you guys enjoy this <33

part 1

A week had passed. Seven long days. It could have been a peaceful week—a rare break from the chaos of working in the BAU.

No cases, no unsubs, just quiet.

But instead of enjoying it, you found yourself curled up on your couch, staring blankly into the void of your living room. 

The words Spencer had spoken haunted you. “I’m in love with you.” They played on an endless loop in your mind, each repetition like a dagger twisting deeper into your chest.

How many times had you cried in the past few days? You’d lost count somewhere around five, but it hardly mattered.

The tears came in waves—sometimes in the middle of the night, sometimes while staring at a book you weren’t reading, and sometimes when you least expected them, triggered by the smallest of things. 

You hated yourself for how you’d handled it. For how you’d shut him down, pushed him away. For the look on his face when he left your room that night. 

And then there was the dread. The gnawing, suffocating dread of what came next. Because at some point, your phone would buzz.

At some point, someone from the team would call or text, and you’d have to go back to work.

You’d have to see Spencer again. 

The thought of being in the same room as him made you feel like you were unraveling. Would he act like nothing had happened? Would he be distant? Could you even bear to meet his eyes? 

You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your palms to your temples as if you could physically push the thoughts away.

It didn’t work.

The memory of his voice, his expression, the sheer vulnerability in his confession—it all came rushing back, sharp and vivid. 

And then there was your own voice, trembling as you’d told him you weren’t enough. That you’d ruin him. That he deserved better.

That was the worst part. You wanted to believe him.

But the fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of your resolve. You couldn’t stop questioning yourself, your worth, your ability to give him what he deserved. 

You let out a shaky breath, your hands dropping to your lap as you stared blankly at the coffee table. A half-empty mug of tea sat there, long since cold. Your phone lay beside it, the screen dark and mercifully silent. 

For now.  

Two days later, the thing you’d been dreading finally happened. 

Your phone rang, the shrill sound cutting through the quiet of your room. You groaned, rolling onto your side and blindly reaching for the device on your nightstand. Your fingers fumbled for a moment before you grabbed it and pressed it to your ear. 

“Hey, we’ve got a case,” Derek’s voice came through. 

Your stomach dropped. 

“I’ll be right there,” you mumbled, your voice groggy. 

As soon as the call ended, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and sat there for a moment, gripping the phone tightly.

Your heart was racing, the feeling of panic building in your chest. 

You stood, your legs feeling heavier than usual as you made your way to the closet. Pulling on your clothes, you tried to focus on the motions—zipping up your jacket, tying your shoes—but your mind kept drifting. To Spencer.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you brushed your hair back and grabbed your bag. 

Get it together, you told yourself, but the words felt hollow. 

The drive to the office was a blur. You barely registered the streets you passed, the familiar route offering no comfort as your thoughts swirled endlessly.

By the time you pulled into the parking lot, your hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that your knuckles had turned white. 

Once parked, you killed the engine and sat there, the silence pressing in around you. Your fingers started tapping on the wheel—a nervous habit you couldn’t seem to shake. 

Focus. You’ve done this a hundred times before. Just... put your personal stuff aside. You have a job to do. 

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you tried to calm the racing of your heart.

The memory of his voice, his confession, his heartbreak—it all came rushing back, and your stomach twisted painfully. 

Stop it. You shook your head sharply, trying to push it all away. There was no room for this now. 

You grabbed your bag, stepping out of the car and shutting the door with more force than necessary. The crisp morning air bit at your skin, grounding you slightly as you made your way toward the building. 

Each step felt heavier than the last, but by the time you reached the elevator, you forced yourself to stand a little straighter. The doors opened, and you stepped inside, pressing the button for the floor where your team worked. 

As the elevator doors slid open, you took a deep, steadying breath.You stepped into the bullpen, your shoes clicking softly against the tiled floor as you made your way to your desk. 

Setting your bag down, you instinctively glanced at Spencer’s desk just across from yours. His bag was already there, a clear sign he’d arrived earlier than you—no surprise there. But seeing it sent a fresh wave of panic rolling through your chest. 

You headed straight for the conference room. The case briefing would be starting soon and you did not want to get in trouble with Hotch for being late. 

You pushed the door open slowly, almost hesitantly, and peeked inside. A relieved breath escaped you when you saw only Penelope sitting there, her bright, cheerful presence immediately calming you. 

“Morning, Pen,” you greeted, stepping inside and letting the door close behind you. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” she chirped, looking up from her laptop with a warm smile. Her outfit, as always, was a kaleidoscope of color and patterns, and just seeing her made the room feel a little less heavy. “How are you this fine morning?” 

You hesitated, forcing a smile onto your face as you slid into a seat across from her. “I’m... here.” 

Penelope raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying your vague answer. “Uh-huh. And how’s the rest of you?” 

You blinked, caught off guard by how quickly she’d zeroed in on your mood. “I’m fine, really. Just tired,” you lied, avoiding her gaze. 

Penelope didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press—at least, not yet. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, watching you with a knowing expression that made you squirm. 

“Alright,” she said finally, her tone light but her eyes sharp. “I’ll let you off the hook for now. But you and I both know that when you say ‘fine,’ you mean the opposite. And as your friendly neighborhood tech queen, it is my duty to investigate further.” 

Despite yourself, you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Noted.” 

The door opened again, and you tensed instinctively, glancing over to the door. But it wasn’t Spencer—it was Hotch, followed closely by Derek and Emily. 

You relaxed slightly, turning your attention to the case file Penelope slid across the table. But even as you flipped it open and started scanning the details, a small part of you couldn’t stop bracing for the inevitable moment Spencer would walk through that door. 

Two minutes later, the door opened again. 

Spencer stepped inside, clutching his bag and muttering a quick, “Sorry I’m late.” His voice was soft, almost hoarse, and he moved quickly to take a seat at the table without making eye contact with anyone. 

Penelope paused for just a beat, her eyes flicking toward him in concern, but she quickly resumed her explanation, her usual enthusiasm a little more subdued. 

You kept your gaze glued to the file in front of you, but it was no use. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your chest that you were sure everyone could hear it. 

Don’t look at him, you told yourself. But the pull was too strong. Slowly, cautiously, you let your eyes drift up, stealing a glance at him across the table. 

And that’s when you saw it. 

Miserable. That was the only word for it. 

He didn’t look like himself. His usually bright, curious eyes were dulled with exhaustion, framed by dark circles that told you he hadn’t been sleeping well—if at all. His hair was a little messier than usual, strands falling into his face as he bent over his files

Your chest tightened painfully. 

This was your fault. 

You tore your gaze away, looking back down at your file even though the words blurred together. Guilt churned in your stomach.

You’d been so wrapped up in your own fears and insecurities that you hadn’t stopped to think about what all of this was doing to him. 

Penelope’s voice carried on in the background, but it sounded distant, like you were underwater.

You heard snippets—details about the unsub, the profile they were building—but none of it stuck. Your mind was too busy spiraling. 

You glanced at him again, unable to help yourself. You watched him go through each page of the file. For a moment, his hand stilled, and he glanced up—just for a second. 

Your eyes met, and your breath caught in your throat. 

It was quick, barely more than a flicker of a moment, but it was enough. You saw the hurt there, before he quickly looked away.

Your fingers tightened around the edges of your file, the paper crinkling slightly under your grip. 

You knew deep down that if you’d just told Spencer you didn’t feel the same way, he wouldn’t be acting like this. He’d be hurt, yes, but he’d move on. He was kind, understanding—he’d respect your boundaries. 

But that wasn’t the truth. 

The truth was you did feel the same way. And because of your own fears, because of the deep-rooted insecurities that whispered you’re not good enough for him, you were both caught in this endless cycle of hurt.

You barely registered Hotch’s words as everyone started shuffling out of the room. Spencer didn’t waste a second—he was the first to leave, his long strides taking him out the door without so much as a glance in your direction. 

You sat there for a moment, staring down at your files, as the sound of footsteps and conversations faded into the background. The knot in your stomach tightened. 

Standing up, you gathered your things, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand.

You stood up slowly, clutching the file to your chest like a shield. You had just taken a step toward the door when Derek’s voice stopped you in your tracks. 

“Hey, hold up,” he said, leaning casually against the edge of the table.

You turned to face him, doing your best to keep your expression neutral. “What’s up?” 

Derek tilted his head slightly, studying you with those sharp profiler eyes that missed nothing. “You tell me. Something’s been off with you lately.” 

You blinked, caught off guard. “Off? I’m fine, Derek.” 

“Uh-huh.” He crossed his arms, giving you a pointed look. “Fine doesn’t look like you zoning out every five minutes. Or avoiding certain people.” 

You froze, your grip tightening on the file in your hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Come on.” Derek said, his voice softening slightly. “We’re all profilers here. You think we haven’t noticed what’s going on between you and Reid?” 

Your heart dropped. 

“There’s nothing going on,” you said quickly, too quickly. “We’re just—” 

“Don’t even try that,” Derek interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. And I’ve definitely seen the way you're avoiding each other.” 

You opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out. Because he was right. 

Derek sighed, stepping closer and lowering his voice. “Look, I’m not trying to get in your business. But whatever’s going on, it’s messing with both of you. And that’s not good—for the team or for you two.” 

You looked away, your chest tightening. 

“I don’t want to hurt him.” You said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “

“And what do you think you’re doing now?” Derek shot back, his tone gentle but firm. “You think this is easier on him? On you?” 

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. 

Derek sighed again, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Just... think about it, alright? Talk to him. You two are better than this.” 

With that, he gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before walking away, leaving you standing there with your thoughts swirling. 

You stared down at the file in your hands, Derek’s words echoing in your mind. 

What do you think you’re doing now? 

Half an hour later, you were sitting in your seat on the jet, staring blankly out the window as the rest of the team filed in. You had deliberately chosen a seat as far away from Spencer as possible, and you weren’t surprised to see he’d done the same.

The jet lifted off, the familiar hum of the engines filling the cabin as everyone settled into their roles. You opened the case file on your lap, pretending to read, though none of the words seemed to stick in your mind. 

“Alright,” Hotch’s voice broke through the silence, snapping you back to reality. “Here’s the plan. Rossi and Emily, I want you to head to the crime scene and coordinate with the local police. Derek, you’re with me—we’ll talk to the victim’s family and follow up on their statements. And you two—” he glanced between you and Spencer—“work on the geographical profile. I want a better idea of where the unsub might be operating.” 

Your breath hitched. You felt Spencer stiffen from across the cabin, but neither of you said a word. 

“Understood,” you managed to say, your voice steady despite the anxiety bubbling inside you. 

Spencer gave a small nod, his expression unreadable. 

Once you landed, the others dispersed to their respective tasks, leaving just you and Spencer in the small conference room.

You both moved around the table quietly, spreading out the maps and working in parallel, careful not to cross paths. The markers in your hands squeaked softly as you outlined possible areas of interest. 

“Do you think this area here could be significant?” you finally asked, breaking the silence and pointing to a spot on your map. 

Spencer looked up briefly, his gaze flicking to where you were pointing. “It’s possible,” he said curtly. “It’s close to the highway, so it would make for an easy escape route.” 

“Right,” you said, nodding. You added a note to the side of the map, trying not to focus on how detached he sounded. 

The silence stretched on again, but it wasn’t the comfortable kind you used to share with Spencer.

This was heavy, awkward, and filled with all the words you weren’t saying. 

By the time the rest of the team returned, you were so mentally drained that hearing Hotch announce you’d pick things up in the morning was a relief. 

You didn’t waste any time. The moment you were dismissed, you grabbed your things and headed straight to the hotel.

Your body felt heavy, not just from the day’s work but from the emotional weight of the tension with Spencer. 

When you finally made it to your room, you let the door close behind you with a soft click and dropped your bag onto the floor.

You collapsed onto the bed, letting the plush mattress engulf you as you closed your eyes. For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to exhale, to let the day melt away, but it didn’t take long for the familiar ache in your chest to return. 

You could still see his face in your mind—the way he’d looked at you, the hurt in his eyes. You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, willing the image away, but it was no use. 

Why did it have to be like this? Why couldn’t you just let yourself be happy, let yourself take the leap? 

You groaned softly, burying your face in the pillow. It was no use. No matter how much you tried to push him out of your mind, Spencer was always there. 

Shaking your head, you sat up and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, trying to force yourself to snap out of it. You reached for your bag and rummaged through it, pulling out a big hoodie and a pair of oversized sweatpants.

They were your comfort clothes, and right now, you needed all the comfort you could get. 

Once changed, you padded into the bathroom to brush your teeth. The fluorescent light buzzed softly above you, and as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, you froze. 

It had been a long time since you’d really looked at yourself, and the sight before you was startling. Dark circles framed your tired eyes, and your face looked drawn, as though the life had been slowly drained out of you. 

You looked miserable. 

As miserable as Spencer did. 

You gripped the edge of the sink, your toothbrush dangling limply from your other hand. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut.

The hurt you saw in his eyes earlier today wasn’t just his—it was yours too.

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them away quickly.

You set the toothbrush down and splashed cold water on your face.

You leaned against the sink, water dripping from your chin, and stared into your own eyes.

How had it come to this? You’d faced down killers, survived unimaginable danger, and yet here you were, completely unraveled by the thought of loving—and being loved by—Spencer Reid. 

You thought back to the conversation you’d had with Derek, his words echoing in your mind. He wasn’t wrong.

You were hurting Spencer. And in doing so, you were hurting yourself. 

But what could you do now? How could you undo the damage you’d caused when you weren’t sure you could even face him again? 

While you sat in your hotel room, wrestling with your thoughts, Spencer sat in his, just a few doors down. 

He couldn’t shake the image of you today—how your eyes had darted to his when you thought no one was looking, how you’d quickly looked away the moment he caught you.

It wasn’t just the silence between you that hurt; it was the loss of the friendship. 

His heart ached. He missed you so much it felt like a physical pain, a hollow ache in his chest that wouldn’t go away. 

Spencer leaned back against the headboard, his hands resting limply on his lap as he stared at the ceiling. He’d replayed the argument between you two a hundred times in his mind.

At this point, he wasn’t even sure if confronting you about his feelings had been the right decision.

Part of him wished he could go back to the time when he wasn’t certain if you liked him back.

At least then, he could cling to hope, to possibility. 

But now? Now he knew the truth—that you loved him too—and yet it felt worse. Because while his confession had brought a fleeting moment of joy, it had been snatched away by the words that followed. 

Spencer squeezed his eyes shut at the memory, his chest tightening. It hurt him that you thought of yourself that way. That you couldn’t see what he saw in you. 

To him, you were everything. Kind, intelligent, brave—more than enough. And it pained him to know that you didn’t believe that.

That you thought you weren’t good enough for him, as if he were some perfect, untouchable figure who couldn’t see his own flaws. 

He sighed, rubbing his temples as he tried to clear his mind. But no matter how hard he tried, your face kept appearing, your words replaying in his head like a broken record. 

A knock on his door startled him, and he quickly sat up, hoping it was news about the case. But when he opened the door, what he saw left him momentarily frozen. 

You. 

You stood there in your oversized hoodie and baggy pants, your hair slightly disheveled and your eyes red from what was likely hours of crying.

The sight of you, so vulnerable, made his heart twist painfully in his chest. 

Without a word, Spencer stepped aside, opening the door wider to let you in. You hesitated for a moment before walking past him, your steps slow and uncertain as you stopped near the edge of his bed. 

He closed the door softly, turning to face you.

“Hi,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“Hi,” he replied, tilting his head slightly as he studied your face. His tone was gentle, but there was a hint of confusion in his eyes. 

You fidgeted with the hem of your hoodie, your gaze darting around the room before finally settling on him. “I’m sorry for... just showing up like this. I didn’t know what else to do.” 

Spencer shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize.” 

Another beat of silence passed. He could see you struggling to find the words, your brows furrowing as you looked down at your hands. 

You stammered, your words tripping over each other as you struggled to meet his eyes. “I... uhm,” you began, your voice shaky, barely above a whisper.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the intensity of his gaze made it nearly impossible. 

His heart ached as he took in the sight of you—disheveled, vulnerable, and clearly torn apart.

“Spence,” you finally said, your voice trembling as you clutched the hem of your hoodie to ground yourself. Hearing his nickname from your lips again made his heart skip, though it was bittersweet.

He missed it, missed you. 

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, the words tumbling from you as if they’d been trapped for days. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you like this, and I—” Your voice cracked as you rambled, your breathing uneven. “That’s exactly what I was trying to avoid—” You broke off, tears slipping down your cheeks as you looked anywhere but at him, avoiding the weight of his gaze. 

Spencer’s chest tightened at your words, the pain and guilt evident in your voice cutting through him.

He stepped closer, his movements slow, cautious, as if afraid you might bolt. “Stop,” he said softly, his voice calm but firm. 

You shook your head, the tears falling faster now. “I was trying to protect you,” you whispered, your voice breaking again. “From me. From all of this. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I’ve done exactly that. I have ruined everything” 

His brows furrowed deeply, and he took another step closer, the distance between you shrinking. “You haven’t ruined anything,” he said, his voice gentle but resolute. 

You finally met his eyes, your own filled with guilt and anguish. “How can you say that?” you asked, your voice barely audible. “Look at us. Look at what I’ve done. I’ve hurt you, Spencer, and that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do.” 

Tears continued to spill down your cheeks no matter how much you tried to wipe them away. Your hands trembled as you fumbled to control your emotions, but it was useless. 

“Stop,” Spencer said gently, his voice soothing yet firm. He stepped closer, the hesitancy in his movements showing how carefully he was treading around your fragile state. He stopped just inches away, searching your face for permission before he reached out. 

His fingers brushed against your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The touch was soft, careful.

Then, with both hands, he cupped your face and used his thumbs to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. His touch was warm, making it impossible to focus on anything but him. 

Your breath hitched as you opened your eyes, meeting his. His gaze was soft, filled with a tenderness that made your chest ache.

You could see the concern there, the care, the love he had for you. It made the guilt in you swell. 

“I’m really sorry,” you whispered again, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. 

His hands stayed on your face, steady and unmoving, as though he were anchoring you. “You don’t have to keep apologizing,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Yes, I do,” you insisted, your voice trembling. “I hurt you, Spencer. I pushed you away. I—” 

“Stop blaming yourself,” he interrupted, his voice breaking slightly, though his tone remained gentle. “Please, stop. I know you’re scared. I know you think you’re not good enough, but... do you realize how incredible you are? How much I—” He paused, closing his eyes for a moment as he steadied himself. “How much I love you?” 

Your lip quivered, fresh tears threatening to spill as his words washed over you. You wanted to believe him.

You wanted to let yourself believe.But your doubts lingered, the years of insecurities weighing you down like an anchor. 

“I don’t want to ruin you,” you whispered, your voice so quiet it was almost drowned out by the sound of your shaky breaths. “You deserve someone who can give you everything, someone who—” 

“Stop,” he said once again, his voice more insistent now. His thumbs brushed your cheeks again, wiping away another round of tears. “You don’t get to decide that for me. You don’t get to tell me who I should love or what I deserve.” 

You blinked at him, staring into his hazel eyes. 

“I don’t want someone else,” he continued, his tone softening but his resolve unwavering. “I don’t care about perfect, and I don’t care about whatever you think you’re lacking. I want you. With all your flaws, all your fears, all your messiness. I want you. And the only thing that’s ruining me right now is the idea that you don’t believe me.” 

You swallowed hard, his words hitting you like a wave. He looked at you with such sincerity, such unshakable devotion, that it left you speechless. 

What could you possibly say to that? To the sweetest, most genuine man alive, standing in front of you, telling you he loved you and no one else? You felt the words lodged in your throat, tangled with fear and disbelief.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts, trying to make sense of the storm of emotions swirling inside you. 

“Spencer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I... I don’t know how to do this.” 

He didn’t move, didn’t take his hands from your face and you felt the way his thumbs gently brushed against your skin. 

“You don’t have to know,” he said softly. “We don’t have to have it all figured out. I just need you to let me in. To trust me.” 

His words were a plea, gentle but so full of emotion that it made your chest ache. You opened your eyes and looked at him, his face inches from yours, his expression filled with a vulnerability that matched your own. 

“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I’m scared I’ll mess this up, Spencer. Scared I’ll hurt you again..” 

“You won’t,” he said firmly, his voice steady despite the crack of emotion in it. “You can’t. Do you have any idea how much you mean to me? I’m standing here telling you that I love you, that I want you, and nothing you say or do is going to change that. Not your fears, not your doubts, nothing.” 

You shook your head slightly, tears brimming in your eyes again. “But you deserve so much better—someone who isn’t this... this mess. Someone who can—” 

“Stop,” he interrupted, his voice gentle but firm. “Stop deciding what I deserve. Stop convincing yourself that you’re not enough. Because you are. You always have been.” 

His words broke something inside you, the walls you’d built around your heart crumbling under the weight of his love. A sob escaped your lips, and you brought your hands up to cover your face, trying to hold yourself together, but Spencer wouldn’t let you retreat. 

He gently took your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face as he stepped even closer. “Look at me,” he whispered. 

You did, reluctantly, your tear-streaked face meeting his unwavering gaze. 

“I love you,” he said again, his voice softer now, but no less certain. “and I love all of you.” 

You stared at him, your heart pounding, his words sinking in deeper than you thought possible. 

For a moment, the air between you was heavy with emotion, neither of you speaking as you stood there, so close yet so unsure of what would happen next.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, you stepped forward, your arms wrapping around him as you buried your face in his chest. 

His arms came around you immediately, holding you tight, as though he was afraid you’d slip away.

You could feel his heart beating against yours, steady and sure, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, this could work.

[bread-crum206]

A Game of Hearts

Chapter twenty-four: Fractured Walls

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

previous |24| next

Series Masterlist

The days that followed felt like a delicate dance—one where every step, every movement, was measured and careful. In-ho had distanced himself, but it wasn’t the same cold, distant wall he’d once put up. Now, it was like a door left slightly ajar, the cracks in his armor still visible but not easily breached. The pain in his eyes lingered, but so did the silence. He was more restrained, more controlled, but there was something else—something you couldn’t quite name, but you felt it. He was waiting for you to push, to challenge him, to see if you would let him hide.

You hadn’t pushed yet. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you understood. Losing someone, especially someone you loved with everything you had, left a scar deep enough that no amount of time could heal it. You could see it in the way he moved, the way his jaw clenched when he thought you weren’t looking, the way his eyes sometimes lingered on you as though trying to decide if you were worth the risk. He had built walls, but now they were just fragments—broken enough for you to see glimpses of what was underneath.

And so, you waited.

But waiting wasn’t always easy.

The following evening, you found yourself standing in front of In-ho’s office door. The silence in the hallway was suffocating, like the quiet before a storm. You weren’t sure what you were hoping for. Maybe a conversation, or maybe just the courage to finally confront him again. Something inside you told you it was time. Time to stop tiptoeing around the truth.

You knocked twice before stepping inside. He looked up from the papers on his desk, his usual unreadable mask in place, but there was a flicker in his eyes. A flicker you knew all too well. He wasn’t angry—he was… conflicted. Conflicted in the way only someone who had been hurt so deeply could be.

“You need something?” His voice was calm, controlled—too controlled, almost as if he was bracing for a confrontation.

You swallowed, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on you. There was a knot in your throat, but you wouldn’t let it stop you.

“I need to talk,” you said, your voice steady but tinged with something that might have been uncertainty.

He leaned back in his chair, studying you in that quiet way he did, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge of his desk. His mask was still firmly in place, but the air around him felt thick—heavy with the unspoken tension.

“What about?” he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly, though you could see the flicker of curiosity behind the coldness.

You took a step forward, your gaze unwavering as you met his. “About us. About what happened after the panther mask… and about you pulling away.”

In-ho’s jaw tightened at the mention of the panther mask, but he didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he stood up, walking to the window without a word. His back was to you, but his posture had stiffened, the tension in his broad shoulders radiating out like a warning. He hadn’t even taken the time to mask the rawness in his expression, and for a brief moment, you saw the cracks in his calm demeanor.

“You don’t know what you’re asking, do you?” His voice was low, almost a growl, and you could hear the edge of frustration in it. “I told you before. This life… this world… it’s not for you.”

You didn’t flinch, even though your heart skipped a beat. You were used to his intensity now, used to the way he could shut you out with just a few words. But that wasn’t going to stop you. Not this time.

“I know this world isn’t easy,” you said, your voice quieter but still firm. “But I’m already in it, In-ho. Whether you want me to be or not. And I’m not asking for anything more than… honesty. I need to understand why you won’t let me in.”

He turned to face you, his gaze sharper now, like he was seeing you for the first time all over again. For a moment, his eyes softened—just the slightest hint of vulnerability flickering behind the cold mask. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the same guarded distance.

“I can’t do this,” he said, his voice thick with frustration. “I can’t open myself up again. Not after… not after everything that happened.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. There it was—the reason behind the walls. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you—it was that he didn’t know how to let someone in again. He was afraid. Afraid of the very thing you were hoping to build.

“You’re afraid,” you said, your words soft but firm. “You’re afraid of losing someone again, aren’t you?”

He flinched, the barest flicker of emotion crossing his face before it was hidden again. The silence stretched between you both, thick with the weight of his unspoken pain.

“Losing someone…?” His voice faltered for a split second, and you saw the wall in him crack just a little more. “I lost everything once. My wife. My child. I let myself love them, and it destroyed me when they were gone.”

Your heart ached for him—really ached, in a way you hadn’t anticipated. He wasn’t just pushing you away; he was guarding himself from something deeper. Something that threatened to break him if he allowed it to resurface.

“I can’t make the same mistake again,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper, the vulnerability in it raw. “I won’t.”

You felt the urge to step closer, to reach out to him, but you stopped yourself. You knew he wasn’t ready for that yet. But you weren’t going to let him push you away this time.

“You don’t have to love me right now,” you said, your voice calm but unwavering. “But don’t shut me out. Don’t shut yourself out. I’m not going anywhere.”

For a long moment, neither of you moved, the silence thick with the weight of his words and your own. You could feel his struggle, the internal battle waging inside him. He wanted to push you away, but he also wanted to pull you closer. You could see it in the way his hands clenched at his sides, the way his jaw tightened with effort.

Finally, In-ho broke the silence, his eyes never leaving yours. “I can’t promise you anything,” he said, his voice rough. “Not right now. Not after everything.”

“I don’t need promises,” you replied, taking a step toward him. “I just need you to trust me. Little by little. I’m not asking for everything.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if weighing your words, before slowly opening them again. This time, there was something new in his gaze—a hint of uncertainty, a crack in his resolve that he couldn’t hide.

“You have more patience than I thought,” he muttered, almost to himself, before his gaze softened ever so slightly. “But you should know… this isn’t easy for me.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “I’m not asking for it to be easy. Just… don’t push me away. Not when I’m here.”

There was another long pause, the air between you both heavy with unspoken thoughts, but this time, the silence felt different. It didn’t feel like a wall—it felt like a quiet understanding, a beginning of something that neither of you could fully define yet.

But at least now, there was the possibility of something real. Something you could hold onto.

———————

Chapter 24! How do you guys like this? Do you like how I’ve written the chapters and the characters? Thank you!

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[woozinhos]

Just the tip but vernon? 👀🐻‍❄️

Notes: god back to writing I love it hehe hope you enjoy <3

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

Smut below the cut

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

You and Vernon had been tired all day, having worked non-stop on a project that left you both exhausted. As the night fell, the fatigue began to fade and the desire for each other began to build. You both lay in bed, too tired to move much but too aroused to sleep. You turned to Vernon, your eyes meeting his in the dim light of the room.

"I can't believe we're still so horny after all that work," you said, your voice husky with desire. Vernon chuckled, his hand tracing patterns on your bare skin. "Me neither," he replied, his eyes darkening with lust. "But I don't think I have the energy for anything more than just... the tip." You smirked at his suggestion, your body responding to the thought.

"Just the tip, huh?" you said, your hand trailing down his chest. "I think we can work with that." Vernon's breathing grew heavier as your hand continued to explore his body. He rolled on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. "You're such a tease," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "I've been wanting you all day." You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

"I know," you said, your voice low and sultry. "I've been thinking about you all day too." Vernon kissed your neck, his tongue tracing a path down to your collarbone. He moved slowly, taking his time to tease you just as much as you had teased him. Vernon flopped onto the bed beside you, completely spent from the effort of just getting you aroused. He let out a deep sigh, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "God, I'm exhausted," he said, his eyes closing. "But you're so worth it." You laughed softly, turning onto your side to face him.

"We can finish this tomorrow," you said, your fingers gently tracing the contours of his face. "When we have more energy.” Vernon pouted, his eyes opening to look at you with a pleading expression. "But I need you now," he whined, his voice filled with need. "I can't wait until tomorrow. I want to touch you, taste you, make you feel good." You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, your own desire still burning strong.

"Are you sure you have the energy for that?" you asked, a hint of challenge in your voice. Vernon's eyes darkened again as he heard your words. "Just the tip," he repeated, his voice low and gravelly. "Please." You nodded, a sly smile playing on your lips.

"Okay," you said, scooting closer to him. "Just the tip it is." Vernon's hands moved with a sense of urgency, his fingers slipping under the fabric of your panties and pulling them aside to reveal your body to him. He looked at you hungrily, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. You could feel his gaze on you, burning with desire. He gently traced a finger along your sensitive skin, teasing you just enough to drive you wild.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. Vernon slowly pulled himself out of his boxers, his erection springing free and hard as a rock. He stroked himself gently, watching your face as he did so.

"God, you're driving me crazy," he said, his voice thick with desire. He moved you onto your side, his body spooning yours from behind. His chest pressed against your back, his warmth enveloping you. He continued to stroke himself, his breath hot against your neck. He pushed one leg between yours, gently spreading you open for him. His hand moved to your hip, holding you steady as he positioned himself behind you.

"Are you ready for me?" he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. You nodded, your heart racing in anticipation. You could feel the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, teasing you with the promise of what was to come. Vernon slowly pushed himself into you, letting out a low moan as he felt the tight heat envelop him. He started to move his hips, slowly sliding the tip of his cock in and out of you. The sensation was driving you crazy, sending waves of pleasure through your body with every gentle thrust. Vernon's grip on your hip tightened as he moved, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your neck.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his words punctuated by the sound of your bodies moving together. He began to move faster, his thrusts becoming more urgent as his need for release built. He reached around to cup your breast, his fingers pinching your nipple as he continued to drive himself into you.

"Please," he begged, his voice ragged with desire. "Please let me go all the way. I need more of you." You could hear the desperation in his voice, and it sent a thrill through your body. You nodded, giving him the permission he needed.

"Do it," you whispered, your own need for him becoming too much to bear. "Fuck me properly." Vernon didn't hesitate. With a low growl, he pushed himself all the way inside you, burying himself to the hilt. He started to thrust harder, his hips snapping against yours with each movement. He lost himself in the sensation, his mind consumed by the pleasure of being deep inside you.

"Yes," you gasped, your voice filled with ecstasy. "Just like that, don't stop." Vernon grunted in response, his pace quickening even more as he felt you respond to his movements. He shifted his position slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts to hit that sweet spot inside you. He could feel you clenching around him, your body tightening with pleasure.

"You're so tight," he panted, his hand moving from your breast to your hip to hold you in place. "I can feel you taking me so well." He was getting closer and closer to the edge, the sound of your moans and the feel of your body driving him wild. He continued to thrust into you, his pace becoming more erratic as he neared his climax. He was struggling to hold on, but he wanted to bring you over the edge first.

"Come for me," he said through gritted teeth. "I want to feel you come around me." He reached down between your legs, his fingers finding your clit and starting to rub it in quick, circular motions. The added stimulation pushed you closer and closer to the edge, your body tensing as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level.

"Vernon," you moaned, your body arching against him as you felt your orgasm approaching. "I'm so close. He continued to move against you, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he pushed you towards your release.

"Let go," he whispered in your ear. "Let it take you. I've got you." Your body convulsed as you finally reached your peak, your scream echoing through the room as your orgasm washed over you in waves. Vernon held you tight, his hips stuttering as he felt your walls clenching around him. He buried his face in your neck, muffling his own moans as he followed you over the edge, spilling himself deep inside you. You both lay there, panting and sweaty, as you slowly came down from your high. Vernon wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as he pressed soft kisses to your neck and shoulder.

"That was wow," he whispered, his voice still husky with desire. You turned in his arms to face him, your eyes meeting his as you basked in the afterglow of your shared pleasure.

[sungiescheotluv]

champagne supernova ⭑.ᐟ park jisung

pairing: park jisung x gender neutral reader

word count: 4.2k

tags/warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, emo(ish) jisung, non-idol au.

summary: making friends as an adult is difficult. luckily for you, the rock/alternative online community welcomes you with open arms, one person in particular catching your interest.

notes: hi thereee! 😁 back again with another jisung fic, one that i actually came up with myself lmao. since getting back into the dreamies, i've been a bit surprised by (but absolutely love) jisung's taste in music. hence this silly fic, which i do hope you enjoy! thank you so much for all your recent support, it makes my heart smile whenever you like or comment on a post! anyways, happy reading! much loveeeee! <3

The concept of internet safety is lost on you. How else could you explain sharing a hotel room with someone you’d never met before in real life? 

Perhaps, you should retrace your steps. See how you’ve managed to find yourself in such a dangerous position, the front door locked and your body pinned to the bed.

Making friends as an adult is difficult. On par with counting every grain of rice in a field, you’d say.

You underestimated how easy maintaining friendship was when younger, third places like school, daycares, extra-curricular activities demanding your presence, inadvertently strengthening your social life. Not that you were the most social, you had a hard time approaching people actually, but maybe that was a part of your charm. Bringing you out of your shell, like all your friends did before your bond was cemented in tree trunks or sandy beaches. University is the last place you take this ease for granted, exposed to all different kinds of people and relationships, some platonic and not-so much. Either way, despite the barge of assignments and countless nights out, you’d make it into adulthood relatively unscathed.

Adulthood, however, doesn’t turn out as you expect. You’d been sold a dream, one eight-year old you envisioned dabbling with the stars accompanied by a lavish life and all the ice-cream you could get your hands on. Unfortunately, no star would be rubbing shoulders with you anytime soon and any that would, you’d have to pay a large sum of money to even see. A large sum you did not have. So, yeah. Just that, toxic work culture, endless bills and a whole host of other obligations linger above your head like a grey cloud.

What helps is finding the small joys in life. Slow mornings when the city is asleep, the scent of coffee at the crack of dawn, the sunshine against your skin, friends who despite their busy schedules carve out time to see you. All pieces of your life that make it worth living. Music is in there too, the art of melodies and lyrics strung together having the strange ability to carry you throughout even your worst days.

Your moods refuse to stick to a certain genre and in the midst of dark afternoons and frost covered roads, you find yourself gravitating towards alternative music. Slow, steady and aching. Like how your life moves with the severe lack of sun. It’s not a genre your circle of friends dabble in as much as you do. It’s to be expected, anyone who deviates from a standard of ‘normalcy’ was outcasted, one too many examples found in your high school days where kids got called weird and satanic for wearing a Green Day t-shirt to school. The thought makes you laugh now, but back then, when all that matters is fitting in, it was sad and suffocating. Seeing a part of yourself denied before your very eyes. Sometimes you’d hang out with those kids, bond over your collection of CDs and even go to a few gigs together. However, when Monday came around and they’d approach you and your friends, raving about the concert - you froze. Confronted into either owning yourself and being outcasted like the rest of the emo kids or ignoring them, deny yourself for the sake of social standing. 

You pretend like they’ve grown two heads, feigned confusion knitting your eyebrows together while your friends laugh and hurl insults at someone who you considered a friend - a better one than the ones at your side. And yet, you let the laughter continue, a coward with its tail between its legs as you depart, the taste of iron on your tongue.

Maybe this is payback for those poor decisions. A dead-end job, a successful but shitting ex and enough inner turmoil to make a therapist clutch their pearls. 

You abandon those friends when you get to university, getting better ones that wouldn’t make someone feel small due to their own insecurities. You make amends with the emo kids, your apology marking the true end of your friendship. You search online spaces for like-minded people, showing up as yourself and being embraced as. Everyone in the Reddit community is unbelievably sweet, sharing their music recommendations, concert wishlists and pictures of their cats. Some members, including yourself, form a closer bond, taking your conversation to a Discord server that becomes your escape in a way. A channel for heartfelt discussion that extends past your love for music. You’re not as active due to work obligations, but whenever you pop up, one member in particular always greets you with a warmth like no other. 

Linkin.parkjisung is his user, his icon the rock and roll hand sign over his face. Likes Blur, Green Day, Oasis and of course, Linkin Park. He’s like you, dips in and out, types a few responses before he’s gone again. It’s a scenario where other members grow closer, and your anxiety around speaking in the group begins. They’re already close, it seems almost futile to interrupt, right? 

What if you’re ignored? What if you’ve missed your window of opportunity? 

It’s a line of thinking that crosses your mind when you send in an apology for being inactive, moments later your phone pinging with a notification.

Linkin.parkjisung: no need to apologize! life gets busy for everyone, myself included. hope you’re doing ok (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

Other group members echo his message, sending in their own real-life obligations that the group ends up bonding over, complaining of rising car insurance and overly demanding bosses. 

It’s the start of it all, really. That one message, a hand extended to yours that breaks you out of your shell and kick starts your friendship with Jisung. From that day onwards, you move more freely throughout the server, making good friends with everyone but better friends with Jisung. Somewhere down the line, you end up privately messaging each other. What starts out as simply giving each other music recommendations (since he apparently always loves the songs/artists you send into the server) becomes sneaking into the bathroom during a busy family reunion to call Jisung about how your grandmother wore a catsuit to impress her ex, your grandfather. You grow that close, no details spared on life events. How else is there space for secrecy when you’re video calling drunk, watching festival performances of Fontaines D.C.?

In any case, you’re close. You text everyday and call every week like clockwork, namely because you live some hours away from each other. During your calls, he’s shrouded in a low darkness, self conscious of the way he looks, he says. You’re unconvinced, slivers of his features in photos he sends you with his roommates’ three cats or on call saying otherwise. Regardless, you let it slide because Jisung becomes more than his face - he becomes a source of comfort, someone who makes you laugh as much as brings you calm, someone you slowly can’t imagine your days without. In hindsight, this is where your romantic feelings develop. And with convenient timing too because one of the bands you recommended to Jisung, Wunderhorse are on tour, set to perform in a city two hours from the both of you.

“Tickets are going onsale at 10 am on Thursday,” Jisung murmurs, the clicks of his cursor coming through your laptop speaker. “Remember to set your alarm.”

“Will do. Lemme set a remin-” opening up your calendar, you see an unwelcome surprise. “Fuck.”

“What’s up?” Jisung’s voice echoes with sincere concern.

“I forgot I have a shift that day,” you groan, already knowing by the time your lunch break came, the event would be sold out. “We’re understaffed as is, so there’s no way I can get someone to cover for me.”

A deep hum vibrates from Jisung’s chest, a few more clicks of his cursor sounding before he asks in a small voice. “Well, I could just get the tickets for us both.”

“You would?”

“Yeah, I’m meant to be working from home that day anyways. And not to flex, but my internet’s pretty decent.”

You laugh. “Is that for your job or your crippling gaming addiction?”

“A bit of both,” he chuckles back, the sound blooming a warmth of happiness in your chest. “Working in CompSci has its perks.”

“So, I’m finding out,” you smile, an underlying layer of discomfort shifting you against your desk chair. “Are you sure, though?”

“Of course. I’d hate if you lost out on this knowing I could’ve done something to help,” Jisung explains. “You were the one to introduce me to them anyways. Plus we’d have a better chance of sticking together in the pit if we get them together, right?”

You swallow a lump in your throat, something taking flight in your airy chest. “Yeah, you’re right. Just send me your bank details so I can transfer you the day of.”

“Coming right up!” he jokes, and you laugh, however lame he claims himself to be.

On Thursday, he sends you a photo of his solid black high-tech set-up, a PC he’s constructed himself with more monitors than you can count. The side of his face is included in the picture, silky black hair, a brown eye and a beauty mark on his cheekbone you dream of kissing later that night. You find out he secures the tickets on your lunch break, your debt towards him being booking the hotel you’d be staying at. Due to the limited funds you’re working with, you end up getting a shared room, an option that gives him pause before he agrees in a tremored voice. You’re a bit apprehensive yourself, but you booked for two beds, so it should be fine. If worst comes to worst, and something happens between you two – like him turning out to be a sexist neckbeard loser he couldn’t take no for an answer - you’d sleep in your car (or kick him out, actually). At any rate, you had options (and a friend tracking your live location).

In no time, weeks fly by and Wunderhorse drops their latest album. It’s the best thing you’ve experienced since sliced bread, an opinion Jisung shares as you two listen to it over call late one Friday night, speaking about your favourite songs amongst other things. You don’t know how it starts, perhaps it’s a lyric that sticks out to him that he mentions or something else entirely, but suddenly, you’re reminded of high school you. How deeply you wanted to be accepted by others, and how that satisfaction depended on the person you got it from. That you preferred conformity instead of individuality, because being seen with popular shallow kids meant something to you.

“I wasn’t a good person in high school,” you find yourself admitting, your body hollowed out with guilt. Regret like ash on your tongue. “I hurt people because I valued other people’s opinions over my own. I know I was young, but-”

“You said it yourself: you were young,” Jisung comments, the serious intent in his voice catching you off guard. “The fact you recognise your behaviour and feel remorse for it shows how much you’ve grown. I mean, high school can be very unforgiving because nobody really knows who they are or what the fuck they’re doing, so it’s only reasonably to make choices you may regret. What’s important, I think, is how you’ve chosen to move forward,”

“You said it yourself, you’ve apologised to those you hurt. Not many, if any person in your position, would do the same, which shows how much you genuinely care to make things right,” you sniff, vision blurring with tears of relief and sadness. “So, if you ask me, I think you’re being a bit hard on yourself. It’s all a learning curve, you were doing what was best to protect yourself then. And now, you’re a better and kinder person because of it.”

Another time you should’ve known you’d fallen for him. Yet, you remain none the wiser. All the way until concert day, getting off work early that Friday afternoon and making the journey down to the bright city lights of Seoul. Everything twinkles and dazzles, a 180 from your modest living in your hometown. You suppose your excitement for the concert has some role in this too, but considering the lack of vibrancy in your life, you allow yourself to sink your teeth into this. Feel the goosebumps against your skin, the lightness in your limbs and the uptake in your heartbeat.

You check into the hotel first since Jisung has a last-minute team meeting at work, setting yourself up on your side of the cosy room of wooden and white hues. As you slip on your Hello Kitty headband to do skincare, a knock rasps against the door, audible above the sound of your music.

With furrowed eyebrows, you approach the door, revealing a sight that stops your heart in its tracks.

On the other side of the door is who you should’ve expected: Jisung. What you don’t expect, however, is his sharp features, black smooth hair with matching formal clothing to contrast so beautifully with his porcelain skin. The dark, ocean blue contacts he wears with a pretty pink lip tint. Not to mention that beauty mark you’ve been thirsting over for the past few months? Yeah, that’s all in eye-view now, close enough to touch and it’s this fact that sends your brain into overdrive.

While you malfunction, Jisung dips his head, a large fist curled to his lips to hide his sheepish smile. Chuckles in a bit of an awkward and embarrassed way. 

Oh my god?!

“Nice to finally meet you,” he greets, black leather overnight bag clutched to his side. A fluffy blue and pink keychain of Little Twin Stars hangs off the zip, a cute juxtaposition to his intimidating outfit. And height. God, he really wasn’t lying when he said he was nearly 6 ft. 

“I texted you I’d arrived, but you hadn’t read them,”

A forceful blink out of your trance brings you back to reality, one where you’re not openly drooling over how handsome your internist best friend is. “Yeah, sorry. I was busy getting ready.”

“I figured so,” his eyes scan your clothes - your ripped baggy jeans, leather platform shoes amongst what you have on - and his lips curve, admiration in his eyes. “You look great.”

If there weren’t societal ideals of an inappropriate reaction to that compliment, you would’ve tattooed it to your forehead, or on your lower back. Maybe ripped off your shirt and kissed him before combusting because what do you mean, this very handsome man, thinks you look great?!

“Thank you,” you blush, your body running hot like a furnace. Even so, you decide to take advantage of the situation, leaning in for an embrace that he reciprocates as you mumble into his shoulder. “Nice to finally meet you too.”

The rest of the afternoon blurs, the few moments of scattered glances and awkward silence incomparable with the ease of conversation that flows between you once his favourite song, Poppy, comes on. Catching up to speed with each other’s day as you two get ready, it’s not lost on you how domestic the scene is - how familiar, or right it feels. Jisung, in all aspects of the word, is endearing - flustered by the compliments you send his way, brightening up at the new additions to the setlist and best of you, timid with pink cheeks when he hands over a ‘first meeting’ gift - an assortment of snacks, a Hello Kitty plushie and a card that makes you coo. It takes everything in you not to sink your teeth into him, overwhelmed by the sweetness that laces his actions and words, riding the high he and the music gives you as you make your way to the venue after you’re both finished.

Long lines snake around the arena, grey clouds permeating the area as rainfall clatters to the pavement. Jisung, ever so prepared, brings along an umbrella that you share, squeezing underneath so much you feel the warmth of Jisung through his bare, very defined bicep. How someone looks so good in a silver sequin top under a tattered sleeveless black vest is beyond you. Then again, him being single is beyond your comprehension too. Considering his calm and thoughtful demeanour, coupled with his good looks, you would’ve expected people lining up by the thousands to plead their case. However, whenever you two talked about this, he’d simply say his go-to phrase and change the topic, his phrase being:

“I’ve got my eye on someone. Just working up the courage to ask them out.”

Whoever managed to catch his eye, you’d thought to be lucky. Maybe they’d saved a small village in their past life because as people push when the doors open, Jisung shields you from any damage, reminding you how good of a romantic partner he could be. Especially so when you’re inside and he snaps all your photos, accompanying you to the bar and merch table where you get matching t-shirts before he keeps them with him so you’re free throughout the concert. Dimmed red lights and chatter fill the spacious hall, a flood of warm bodies surrounding you as you peer at the stage, the band all set up and ready to go come showtime. You sing along to the host of songs the venue plays beforehand, enough nudges in the shoulder to get Jisung to sing along and of course - of course - he has a beautiful voice too. At this point, you were convinced he either had a missing toe or had weird opinions about the order of cereal because the more you spent time with him, the more he shines in your eyes.

Eventually, the chatter dies down and all lights go off, screams rising through the crowd as Wunderhorse comes onto the stage. Buzzing at a frequency unheard of, you bounce off the balls of your feet, hand holding Jisung as you exclaim, “It’s them! It’s really them!”

Missing how flushed Jisung becomes at the contact, you sing with all your heart - offkey and all - to their opening song, Midas. The energy is through the roof, a dizzying world of flashing lights and music that retches the lyrics straight out of you. In a moment’s chance, Jisung and you turn to each other mid-song, smiles bright as the stage lights outline your damp faces, chest heaving with a mouthful of lyrics in their wake. It’s the happiest you’ve been, holding his hand like this, and as the night winds to simmer, you sway to slow songs and thank your lucky stars for finding your way back to this.

After the show, you two chatter with other adoring fans before trekking to your nearby hotel, stomachs growling for food. Jisung finds a great Chinese place that delivers until 2 am, a gesture you simper at, unaware he’d even remembered you’d liked the cuisine. At this point, you’re drained in the best possible way, a dull ache in your feet but riding a high of something you’ll remember forever. 

Now, you’re up to speed. Great. Let’s get back to your current dilemma.

Somehow, someway, your unlaced and stubborn platform shoes cause a stumble, one that Jisung tries to save you from but ends up caught in the mix. How, you might ask? Well, you’re not entirely sure but what you definitely know is that you’ve fallen on one of the beds, Jisung’s body caging yours as he braces his own fall. Face-to-face. With you.

Ok.

You’re close enough to share a breath, within reach to see his long lashes and shaky pupils that dart from your eyes to your lips, back to your eyes again. Suddenly, the room temperature dials to an unprecedented heat, walls closing in on you two as you lie in waiting. Waiting for the other to make their move. To lean in or pull away, heads or tails on a coin.

His phone rings, cutting through the tension-filled air with a knife. The moment, gone. 

“You okay?” he rasps, a knit in his eyebrows as if he’s holding himself back. You blink wordlessly, your answer in an absent nod. “I’ll, uhm…get the food.”

It’s not a suggestion, nothing that you can object to, particularly when he’s long gone and you’re clutching at your chest, months of infatuation knocking the breath out of you.

When Jisung returns minutes later, you’ve turned the TV on, preparing to fill the silence if need be. It proves necessary, only groans of pleasure and compliments to the chef shared between you two as you eat your weight in noodles. Not much is said when you’re getting ready for bed either, brushing your teeth together as if you're a couple and settling into separate beds, all the lights turned off.

Still reeling for the fall, and convinced his shallow breaths allude to his slumber, you’re startled by the call of your name, head turning towards Jisung beside you.

“Yes?”

“You sure you’re ok?” he asks before clearing his throat. “That was…some fall.”

You can say that again.

“I’m ok,” you lie. You’re on high alert, frazzled at every end with a heart you’ve just realised longs for the man not even two metres away from you. “Are you?”

Silence. The only feedback you hear is the crinkle of his duvet as he shuffles in his bed.

“Ask me another question.”

You turn to him, shrouded in darkness. “Like what?”

He doesn’t speak again, lets the silence devour the space between you before he says. “Ask me about the person I’m interested in.”

Water that rivals the arctic pours down your back, a harsh call to reality as you remember. Right, he has someone he’s interested in. Someone who he’ll devout his time to, listen to their music recommendations and hold their hands at concerts. And you? Well, you’ll still be friends, but maybe not as close. Maybe not even friends at all.

The thought closes an iron fist around your heart.

“Why haven’t you asked them out?” is what you manage, because it’s on your mind - what time and place he’ll find himself in when he confesses his feelings.

“Because I’m scared,” he admits, small and in a whisper. “Considering we met online, it’s kind of hard to gauge their interest or read any signs. You don’t give me much to work with,”

You still. “I don’t?’

“I mean, I haven’t been too obvious, but I’m crazy about you,” he confesses. “I love the light in your eyes and the kindness in your heart. You’re so deeply human and live life like it’s your first and last. There’s no one like you and I think the idea of knowing how special you are triggered my fear of rejection. Because what would my life be without watching festival performances while drunk with you? What would it be if you didn’t laugh at my lame jokes and didn’t command my every thought?”

Jisung shuffles again, a flicker of dim light in between you two at a lamp source as he stares over at you, wholehearted and vulnerable. “It’d be an empty one - not worth living.”

Slowly, your body brings you upwards, the two of you hanging off the edges of your bed. So close if you’d reach out, your hands would touch. 

“When?” you croak, unable to meet his eyes. “When did you…start feeling this way?”

His eyes lower, a slight curve to the corner of his lips. “Around November?”

Electricity zaps your back straight. Five months ago? “When we joined the server?”

“Shortly after that,” he admits, a coy grin breaking out against his flushed features. “I was having a really hard day and you’d recommend a song in the chat, Favourite by Fontaines DC, and said how nostalgic and hopeful it felt to you. I gave it a listen and…it was like a battery in my back. I cried, but I also smiled too because I understood what you meant by it all,”

He threads his fingers together, peering up with shining eyes as he adds, “it felt like a peak into your soul, and mine too….I think that’s where it started.”

Your hand finally reaches out, overlaying his as tears fill your sight. “You know you’re my favourite, right?”

“No one stood a chance after that drunk video of you singing along to Champagne Supernova,” you share a laugh, reminiscing of the video he accidentally sent into the server one December night. A die-hard Oasis fan till the end. “I mean it. There’s no one I’d want to spend my days with, listen to music with and discover all there is to life. No one but you.”

His bottom lip gives a wobble, hands unearthing from yours as his thumb grazes your knuckles, bringing the hand up in a searing kiss. One he looks you right in the eyes for as he says, “Can we push the beds together please?”

You bark out an unexpected laugh, fondness shaping your smile as you speak with all of your heart. “I would love nothing more.”

[subjectnr8]

"That day, I let a weak man die"

I'm about to hurt your feelings 🧪🧟‍♂️

Oh did you, Silco?

That day all you did was getting trauma you don't know how to heal from. You were lost after Vander betrayed you. You saw nothing good within you and yet you desperately tried to find worth in the breaths you fought for so desperately.

All you crave is safety. All your life you had searched for it like a distraught puppy. And as those you held closest to you hurt you, broke you, you swore you'd never let anyone hurt you like this again.

Even if it meant to give up on your comfort and needs.

You convinced yourself that your worth lies in those qualities that drove your life against the wall, shattering all you ever thought you stood for. Taking away those who were willing to choose you.

No one ever will hurt you like this, betray you like this. You swore it to yourself, no one will ever be allowed in your broken and shattered heart again. No one should see the endless voids Felicia and Vander had lef behind.

How did that turn out for you?

It's like your restless heart leapt onto that girl in the rain. Powder. So quickly, you wrapped your arms around her, took her in, letting that abandoned child take a seat at the empty dinner table.

You saw yourself in her, didn't you?

Alone, betrayed. Crying and losing her sanity. How did it feel when she jumped at you, seeking the comfort you yourself needed oh so desperately?

When you saw Vander's dead body, what did you feel? When you talked to him, saw the strong man became a lap dog to those who opressed you all your life, was it worse than the river?

If things had played out in a different way, would Vander stand beside you and not lie bleeding and dead on the concrete? Would his blood be bandaged and not washed away by rain?

You found a daughter that day. No, don't deny it. I see it in your abandoned little heart. I see the streaks of blue.

She reminds you a lot of your old self. The weak man. But was he truely ever weak?

The mines alone shoul've been proof that no, no you were never weak to begin with. You survived those conditions, found a family, friends. Vander. Oh Vander. How you held onto him. How you knew he'd be there for you. What a fatal belief.

Planning a revolution wasn't meant to be done by the likes of you. What is one person with a dream gonna do? You're a dirty little thing, a no-good rat like everyone called you.

Everyone but Felicia and Vander.

You thought Vander would stand with you. You were wrong.

You created the Lanes. You created Shimmer. You were so close to achiev what you worked for all your god damn life. And yes, it was a hard life.

Can you even call it life? All you ever did was plan a future for those who redeemed you of nothing. You fought for people who would toss you aside at any given chance.

You thought Felicia would stand with you. You killed her.

You thought Jinx would stand with you. She killed you.

You gave up your dream for her. Your daughter. The crying girl who you hummed to sleep, the one who made you countless drawings and gifts like you deserved them. A daughter's love was enough to make you feel again.

Was it painful when you died? Shot so quickly you must've fallen back into the pattern of betrayal, of heartbreak. A loved one hurting you was nothing new. But this time, you knew she didn't mean it.

How she ran over, cradled your head. You called her perfect, like you did every day. It's not Zaun you're leaving behind today, it's your daughter. And while you hope you won't become one of those demons in her mind, torturing her and giving her the burden of guilt, you, once again, did everything in your power to let her know how much you loved and adored her.

You're perfect. Just like your daughter.

Oh Silco. I hope the river cradels you well.

🫂❤️🧪

[vee-art-zone]

God i wish Igloos got the same structure love that 1.20 gave to ocean ruins, wells and desert temples. I hope I've made it clear that the snowy biomes are imo the least interesting biome in MC to explore and potentially my least favorite overall. When I'm flying around with my elytra exploring for new loot (as i often am) I find myself instinctively turning around when I hit a snowy biome because even my subconscious knows there's no unique loot to be found there.

Let's compare the Snowy Plains with a biome that is, in many ways, its counterpart - The Desert. One hot and one cold, but both barren, flat, devoid of most passive mobs to set up farms, and chock full of rabbits. The differences though, lie in the loot and structures tied to these 2 biomes.

The Desert:

Best source of Sand, one of the last major non-renewable resources that have endgame players returning to them to gather it up by the boxful

Cacti (also found in badlands, the desert's cousin) are the only source of Green dye.

Are the only biome whos representative village has a unique mob - the Camel. A reliable mount, players are encouraged to seek out 2 desert villages to breed up a population of camels.

Desert temples have, hands down, the best loot for their place in the game. 4 chests that regularly have diamonds, enchanted books, gunpowder, gold, and an exclusive Armor Trim? Also have an archaeology pit with 4 exclusive sherds

Even desert wells have 2 sherds to their name, making 6 of these collectable trinkets exclusive to deserts.

Ranking: A biome I make sure to scour every inch of when I find one to loot every structure there for the minerals, trims and sherds. and return to again and again to grab extra sand and eventually bring Camels home.

Now let's look at the Tundra:

You need 8 snowballs (which can be found far more plentifully in biomes far more interesting) to make a snow golem, giving you access to infinite snow and no reason to return here

Polar Bears are semi-exclusive to this biome, although can also be found in Frozen Oceans (which have more loot courtesy of the shipwrecks and ocean ruins). However, Polar Bears are imo one of the least interesting animals in MC, due to being unbreedable and not really. Doing anything. (As much as I preach not every mob needs a 'Use'™, they should still have interesting behaviors and Do Things. There's not a whole lot the player can do with polar bears to inspire the imagination. I'd love to see them get reworked and polished someday!)

Ice Spikes are interesting biomes with basically nothing in them other than the pretty scenery (which I'll admit is very pretty, it gets points for that). It used to be the only source of the highly-useful Packed Ice block, until 1.13 made it 100x more plentiful in the much more common Frozen Ocean biome, and made it craftable from regular ice.

Snowy Villages are like finding any other village, but notedly without Hay Bales, arguably making them Worse to the seasoned minecraft player than finding any other village, even if they look nice)

The only Real unique structure to snowy biomes is Igloos, which have an interesting mechanic with the secret basement (that only half of all igloos actually Have) showing the player how to cure zombie villagers. While interesting and good for new players, there's no reason for experienced players to bother exploring igloos when the best thing to find in them is a single Golden Apple. Igloos should've gotten a unique armor trim!

Ranking: A biome whos lack of interesting treasure or animals makes them not worth the firework rockets it takes to fly through them.

The Snowy Plains is an important biome. Or at least, should be. It's the Snow Biome! It should have unique things like the Desert has unique things.

Maybe add a unique animal to tundra villages, like a Yak or a Muskox or something, to encourage noobs and pros alike to farm in the winter wonderland. Add a unique armor trim to igloo basement chests for new players who spawn in the snow biome to find, as well as maybe some Suspicious Snow blocks around it. Maybe some new pottery sherds or, since whoever lived here liked to experiment so much with DNA, maybe they've been trying to bring back a long-extinct species like the Sniffer. Hell, add a Snow Temple the same way deserts & jungles have temples, with loot chests and traps and whatnot! Something to make flying through the snowfields as much of a rip-roaring treasure hunting expedition as flying through the sand dunes is.

[atangledfate]

It was no surprise to dawn that Twist struggled to understand a gift of gaia. It wasn't really something most mobians thought about at least not the why. most just accepted that some of them were born special, and gifted. To some it was being touched by light gaia and to others it was thought to be a curse of Dark Gaia. Still many more informed thought was simple mutation but, the truth was no body really knew. Mobians were just born gifted, or curse and had to live with there abilities. Dawn never believed for a second it was worth thinking to deeply on.

" hah! no problem, honestly i wish i knew the real reason but ya know my ma' use to say--- some mysteries in life are meant to stay a mystery. Now go clean your room! "

Her duplicate smiled as she lead twist down the hall to the triage wing where many of the worse injuries were being kept. Lots of duplicates rushed around with carts and first aid kits trying to care for many patients.

" Yea, Capitalism is always a drag... But i bet there is some program to help out. Well anyway it was just a thought..."

Her ear twitched at the mention of watching someone lose an arm and being fine. She had to endure such wounds during the war, and while her duplicates tended to disappear when suffered major injury. She still had vivid memories of getting sliced up, crushed, or maimed during the war. It didn't leave a mark on the real dawn but the mental trauma of enduring was everlasting mark on her psyche.

" Here we are... come on let's get these folks patched up... and ready for transfer to GUN's facility. Least the ones we can move! "

=============================================

In truth Jewel didn't know much about Yara's family but they did have a well known reputation concerning thieves. Made her wonder if that's how he lost his tail, or if he was born that way. She just hoped the prince would treat them well and not be to hard on them. She made a mental note to check up on them later. though Surge's report did seem to worry her to no end. Why was GUN being so cruel? she'd always had goo report with Mr. Tower, and now this?

" I See... that's still concerning. Thank you Surge for the update. Also thank you again Highness... your talents are still most welcome. But i did mean what i said. I expect you to treat the boys well... i'll be checking on them to insure they aren't mistreated in the days ahead...everyone deserves a chance at redemption after all."

She turned to Surge and buzzed up to eye level as she felt it helped her seem more commanding.

" Surge i need you to get me back to command as soon as possible. I can't help but feel my place is in the command center with the others. With things feeling a bit dire... i need to try and contact General Tower and see what is actually going on... i can't believe he'd authorize a move like this..."

"Can't say I even understand Gaia Gifts even having it explained to me, though that's the best way anyone's explained it to me." Twist supposed all the doctors explain it in a lot of detail instead of just giving a simple and easy answer. The lemur supposed the gifts were just so complex most figured a more detail explanation was helpful, though it just made him have more questions.

"Thought bout it, though I don't got that kind of cash and insurance won't cover something like that." Twist and his family lived rather comfortable, though cybernetics were expense. Though now it made him wonder what his G.U.N contacts could do. Maybe he could even return to service as he wasn't that old. Something he'd worry about later as there were more pressing matters.

"I've see a solider lose their arm right in front of me and didn't so much as flinch. I'm sure I can handle whatever injures are here." Twist had seen some major injuries during his service so not much could shake him. The lemur would simply start to follow one of the copies of the nurse. He might have to shake of some of the rust to remember everything, though it shouldn't take long.

===========================================================

"I know my parents don't have the best reputation, though I can assure you I am nothing like them." Yara's parents weren't cruel, though they have always been seen as rather ruthless with their rule as punishments for crimes were often swift and at times harsh. Makes for a secure kingdom, though also a tense one when it comes to the people that live in it. "My talent isn't in healing, though I can revert the damage enough to where you basically got a small bump on your head." His main skills were in his Illusion Mist.

"We'll still be careful not to get on your bad side. Last thing we need is to be on your families bad side again." Rough was surprised they managed to make it out of Midesta the first time and doubt they'd get lucky again. Though Yara was always has a softer approach then his parents. The skunk was glad to hear they let him take charge of running things.

"It ain't that bad, just G.U.N being a bunch of dicks and wanting you lot to close up shop so they can poke their nose around. Guess they knew about Clutch and Mimic here, yet didn't want to share that information with you guys." Surge supposed she should be glad as she was sure they'd throw her and Kit under the bus as well.

"I suppose I should contact my representative in G.U.N to inform them about my punishment for Rough and Tumble. They may not be completely pleased, though my family has always held a good relation with them so I doubt they'll put up much of a fuss about it." Yara supposed it helped the two skunk brothers were rather small time criminals.

[mediocre-shark-tales]

Mexican GP part 2

Masterlist

Trigger Warning- slow burn of increasing themes including sexism, SA, depression, and implied grooming

Waking up this morning was awful. Sure, I felt fine physically—no soreness or stiffness from yesterday’s qualifying session—but mentally, I was dragging myself through the motions. Dreading the moment I’d step into that paddock, knowing Henry would be glued to my side, invading my space, throwing his condescending comments, and forcing his "help" where it wasn’t wanted. The only bright spot ahead was the cockpit. The second I climbed into my car, I knew I’d find some peace, if only for a while.

I forced myself to get out of bed and into the shower, letting the hot water work its way over me as I planned my day. My mind, as usual, wandered back to Henry’s endless pestering and inappropriate comments. The "compliments" that weren’t compliments at all, the subtle digs at my abilities, the way he always seemed to loom over me with his too-familiar tone.

It wasn’t just infuriating anymore—it was exhausting. And it wasn’t stopping.

As I wrapped myself in a towel and headed back into the main room, I grabbed my phone and stared at it for a moment. There was no way I could go to management without proof. What if they didn’t believe me? Or worse, what if they dismissed it and I ended up with an even bigger target on my back?

I opened the voice recorder app and stared at it for a long moment, hesitating. Could I really do this? Was it even worth the risk?

Yes, I told myself firmly. If I wanted this to stop, if I wanted a shot at feeling like a human being again, I had to do something.

I tested the app, slipping my phone into my pocket to make sure the microphone still picked up audio clearly. Satisfied, I turned it off for now and finished getting ready, pulling on my team polo and jeans and brushing my hair into a sleek ponytail. If I looked the part of a calm, confident professional, maybe I’d feel it, too.

A knock at my door startled me, and I frowned, wondering who it could be. Opening it, I found Fernando Alonso standing there, dressed and ready for the day, looking as collected as ever.

“Morning,” he said casually, leaning a shoulder against the doorframe.

“Uh, morning?” I replied, still confused.

He held up his hands in mock surrender at my skeptical tone. “Relax. I just thought I’d ride to the paddock with you today. Of course if that is fine with you?”

I raised an eyebrow. Fernando wasn’t exactly known for hanging out with his teammates outside of the track. Sure, we got along, but this was out of character for him. Still, I couldn’t exactly say no.

“Fine,” I said, grabbing my keys from the counter. “But don’t touch my music. Driver’s picks only.”

He grinned. “Fair enough.”

As we rode down in the elevator, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to this than a simple carpool. Fernando wasn’t exactly the type to go out of his way for casual company.

When we reached the parking lot and I unlocked the car, he slid into the passenger seat without a word, letting me set up my playlist before we pulled out.

“You’re quiet,” he remarked after a few minutes on the road.

“Just thinking,” I replied, keeping my eyes on the road.

He hummed in acknowledgment, not pressing me further. It was a relief, really. Having someone like Fernando with me—someone who commanded respect just by existing—gave me a small hope that maybe Henry wouldn’t be quite so unbearable this morning.

I parked in the paddock lot, and as we walked in together, I couldn’t help but glance sideways at Fernando. His presence felt like a protective barrier, and I clung to that feeling, telling myself I could handle whatever the day threw at me.

At least for now.

As I entered the paddock with Fernando, the buzz of the pre-race atmosphere filled the air—engines humming, team personnel rushing around, fans lining the barriers hoping for a glimpse of their favorite drivers. It was a world I loved, but today, it felt more like a battlefield.

I spotted Henry almost immediately. He was standing near the garage, arms crossed, already looking irritated. His eyes locked onto me and then flicked to Fernando beside me, his jaw tightening. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he wasn’t thrilled about my choice of company this morning.

Good.

I kept my expression neutral, refusing to let him see the satisfaction bubbling under the surface. If Fernando noticed Henry’s sour look, he didn’t say anything, though I caught the slightest smirk tugging at his lips.

“See you out there,” Fernando said casually as we parted ways, heading toward our respective garages.

I made my way through the paddock, greeting a few drivers as I went. Lando gave me a bright smile and a quick thumbs-up, and Charles paused to ask how I was feeling about the race. Even Max gave me an approving nod as he walked by. Their small gestures of support were like tiny sparks of warmth in the cold shadow Henry had cast over my week.

Finally, I reached my driver’s room and closed the door behind me, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. For the first time all morning, I felt like I could breathe freely. This was my space, my sanctuary, and Henry couldn’t touch it.

I started to change into my racing gear, the familiar ritual grounding me as I pulled on the fireproof layers and zipped up my suit. But as I worked through the motions, my mind started to churn.

Henry’s voice echoed in my head, his cutting remarks replaying like a broken record. “Don’t screw this up.” “You’re lucky to even be here.” “Do you even understand how this car works?”

Anger began to simmer in my chest. I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was done letting his words define me.

For too long, I’d let Henry make me feel small, like my achievements didn’t matter, like I wasn’t worthy of the seat I’d fought so hard to earn. But not today. Today, I was going to prove to myself—and to everyone else—that I belonged here.

My jaw tightened as I secured my helmet bag and gloves. This race wasn’t just about points or podiums anymore. It was about taking back what was mine. The joy of racing, the confidence in my abilities, the pride in knowing I deserved to be here.

I grabbed my radio and earpieces, shoving them into the bag with a determined glare. Henry might think he had control over me, but he didn’t. Not where it mattered. Not out on the track.

By the time I left my room and headed toward the garage, the fire in my chest had turned into a roaring blaze. I was ready for this. Henry could glare all he wanted, but today, I wasn’t racing for him, or the team, or anyone else.

I was racing for me.

The moment I made my way to the car, Henry was there, as usual, lingering far too close for comfort. He had that smug, self-satisfied look on his face, like he knew exactly how much he got under my skin. He always seemed to find a way to insert himself into my space, to make himself the center of my attention, even when I didn’t want it.

As I settled into the cockpit, the tight fit of the car around me should’ve been comforting. I was in my element, surrounded by the familiar hum of the engine, the feel of the steering wheel under my hands. But Henry was there, too close, and his presence made everything feel suffocating.

I could feel his eyes on me as I prepared for the race, the way he loitered just out of my line of sight, hovering like a cloud that wouldn’t go away. As if sensing my discomfort, he leaned in even closer, his breath brushing against the side of my neck, sending a wave of unease through me.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and smooth, with a touch of arrogance that made my skin crawl, “if you do well today, I’ll make sure to give you a well-deserved... congratulations.”

The words were veiled in that same suggestive tone, a tone that twisted something as simple as praise into something gross, like he was offering more than just acknowledgement. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself not to react, but the moment the words left his mouth, I felt the bile rise in my throat. I had been dealing with his crap for days now—weeks, really—and it was getting harder to just ignore it.

I didn’t want to show him that he was getting under my skin, that his comments were starting to break through my tough exterior. But the truth was, they were. Every time he opened his mouth, every time he made some inappropriate remark, it felt like a little piece of me was eroding, like I was losing my place here, losing the confidence that I had worked so damn hard to build.

With a final, disgusted breath, I shoved the thoughts out of my head as I snapped myself into focus. I could hear the pit crew’s final adjustments happening all around me, the last checks before I was cleared to go. The buzz of the radio crackled to life, but my focus remained on the track. Henry wasn’t worth the energy, not right now.

But I swore to myself that I’d get the proof I needed. He wasn’t going to walk all over me anymore. I just had to bide my time, hold on long enough until I could catch him in the act, and when I did, I would expose him for what he was.

The lights on the grid flashed brightly, one by one, signaling the start of the race. The tension in my chest, the frustration, the anger—it all collided into a single burst of adrenaline, and suddenly, the only thing that mattered was the car in front of me, the track stretching out ahead like a challenge I was ready to conquer.

I felt the revs of the engine rumble under me, the anticipation thick in the air as the lights blinked out one by one. And when they finally turned off completely, the sound of roaring engines filled the air, and everything else—the pressure, the weight of Henry’s words, the lingering disgust—vanished in an instant.

The car launched forward, and my foot slammed down on the accelerator, the wheels spinning as I surged ahead, cutting through the noise of the paddock and the nerves like a knife. Every turn, every shift in gear, every decision was sharper now. The anger wasn’t just a distraction—it was fuel.

Henry thought he could break me. He thought he could manipulate me into doubting myself, into questioning my worth. But instead, I was going to prove him wrong. I was going to show him that no matter what he said, no matter how much he tried to push me down, I was still a force to be reckoned with.

As I tore through the track, dodging rivals and pushing myself to the limit, his words twisted and reshaped in my mind. If you do well today, I’ll make sure to give you a well-deserved congratulations.

I laughed bitterly inside my helmet. Henry had no idea. No idea what it was like to truly race. To feel the rush of adrenaline, the power in the car, and the pride in your heart when you know you’ve earned every single second of it.

The first few laps were a blur, my focus entirely on the track, on the cars around me. I was sliding through corners, making precise adjustments, trusting myself in a way I hadn’t been able to in days. For the first time all weekend, I felt in control. I felt like me again.

But every time I passed a monitor, or saw a glimpse of Henry on the pit wall, I remembered what he had said, and I channeled that anger. Every corner, every straight, every ounce of speed—this was my victory.

As I crossed the finish line and the car slowed down, the reality of what I had just done began to sink in. P3. It wasn’t a win, but it was something significant. A solid performance, a breakthrough after everything I’d been dealing with. I hadn’t just survived the weekend—I had fought through the pressure, the frustration, and come out stronger.

As I pulled into the parc ferme, the pit crew's cheers and the roar of the crowd in the distance became distant background noise, replaced by a familiar and comforting feeling. Lando and Carlos were waiting for me, grinning from ear to ear as I climbed out of the car.

“P3! That was amazing!” Lando exclaimed, his bright smile infectious as he pulled me into a quick hug.

Carlos clapped me on the back, his smile wide. “You’ve come so far. We knew you had it in you!”

I laughed, my chest full of pride, feeling lighter than I had in days. “Thanks, guys,” I said, genuinely grateful. The camaraderie was exactly what I needed after everything.

We stood there for a moment, the friendly banter between us filling the air, until I noticed my team was waiting for me by the barriers. My heart skipped a beat when I saw them, and a rush of warmth spread through me. They had been with me every step of the way, working tirelessly to make sure I was at my best.

I gave a final wave to Lando and Carlos before heading towards my team, a smile stretching across my face. But as I approached the barriers, I spotted him—Henry. He was standing front and center, a smug look on his face like he had somehow been a big part of this victory. The sight of him made my stomach twist, but I pushed down the anger and disgust that had been building all weekend. I had worked so hard for this, and nothing—not even him—was going to ruin it.

I reached my team, and they crowded around me, clapping me on the back, cheering, and congratulating me. The warmth of their genuine support wrapped around me like a shield, and for a moment, I was able to forget about the tension I had been carrying. That was, until Henry made his move.

He came over to me, his hands too quick, too sure, as he wrapped me in a hug. His touch was supposed to be comforting, but the way his hands lingered, moving lower than they should have, sent a chill down my spine. My heart raced, and the urge to push him away flooded through me, but I couldn’t do it—not with the rest of the team surrounding me.

His hands traced over my ass, too slow, too deliberate. I had to bite my lip to stop myself from reacting, from slapping him right there in front of everyone. But I couldn’t make a scene—not here, not now. Not with my team standing around, celebrating this moment with me.

“You know,” Henry’s voice dropped, low enough that only I could hear it, “you’re looking damn good today. You earned that P3, but I’m sure you’ll be ready for more soon. I might have a little reward for you if you keep it up.”

The words made my skin crawl, and I felt the heat of fury rise in my chest. But there was nothing I could do—not with my team so close, not with everyone watching. All I could do was force a smile, nod as he released me, and try to push the disgust back down into the pit of my stomach.

The team started to break apart, their congratulations fading into background noise as I tried to focus, trying to remind myself that I had earned this moment. I hadn’t let Henry’s words get the best of me before, and I wasn’t going to let them now.

As I walked away from my team, heading towards the cooldown room, I couldn’t shake the feeling of Henry’s hands lingering, his words echoing in my mind. I clenched my fists, frustration and disgust boiling over, but I forced myself to breathe.

The cool air in the cooldown room did little to calm the racing thoughts that flooded my mind. I slumped down against the cold concrete floor, instinctively grabbing my water bottle but hardly registering it. The headphones I’d put on were more of a shield than anything else—something to block out the noise of my spiraling thoughts, the feeling that my chest was going to tighten and crush me under the weight of it all.

What had happened in parc ferme… Henry’s hands, his words. It had all happened so quickly. It had been so blatant, so blatant that it felt impossible to ignore. And the worst part? No one said a thing. No one even reacted. My team, the same people I trusted with my career, had just stood there. It was as if his actions had become so normal to them that they didn’t even bat an eye. And that terrified me.

The panic started to claw at me again, pushing its way up from the pit of my stomach, but I fought it down. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t break down, not here, not now. Not in front of the cameras.

The sound of the door opening snapped me out of my spiral, and I felt my body tense immediately. The last thing I needed right now was more attention. But when I looked up, I saw Carlos and Lando walking in. Neither of them said a word as they approached, not wanting to make it obvious they were aware of my presence, and they didn’t push me. They just quietly sat a little farther away, pretending everything was normal for the cameras, as if this was part of the routine.

But I could tell they were concerned. It was in the way Carlos kept glancing at me, his eyes flicking to my headphones, to my stillness, to the way I was avoiding everyone. Lando was just as quiet, but I could feel the worry radiating off him too, even if he was trying to hide it behind a calm façade.

I didn’t want to acknowledge them, didn’t want to give in to the thoughts swirling around inside my head. The cold concrete floor under me felt grounding, like it could somehow anchor me in the moment, but it wasn’t enough to push away the feeling of suffocating pressure.

I let the seconds stretch out, forcing myself to breathe in deeply, slowly, to remind myself that I was still in control. Eventually, when I felt the weight of the panic lift just enough, I pulled myself together. The cameras weren’t far off, and I knew I had to put on the mask again.

I pushed the headphones off and stood up, quickly wiping my face as if it would erase the emotions from earlier. My legs were shaky as I adjusted my racing suit and straightened my hair.

Carlos was the first to speak, his voice carefully neutral. “You alright?”

I plastered a smile on my face, the same one I’d learned to wear so well over the years. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… tired, you know?” I shrugged, trying to make it sound convincing.

Lando nodded, not entirely buying it but not pressing me either. “You did great out there today,” he said, a small smile on his face.

“Thanks,” I replied, my smile faltering slightly. I couldn’t bring myself to really believe it, not when everything felt so hollow inside.

They both seemed to sense the shift, the subtle way I was trying to bury everything beneath the surface, but neither of them pushed. They just kept their distance, respecting my space without letting on that they were paying more attention than they’d like to admit.

As the cameras finally moved out, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. The moment they were gone, I found myself alone in the room again, the quiet stretching out before me.

I glanced back at Carlos and Lando, who had already started to leave, and I realized they hadn’t pressed me for the truth. They knew something was wrong, but they were waiting for me to say it first.

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell them what was really going on—not without risking everything. The team, my career, everything I had fought for. I couldn’t let them see me as weak. I couldn’t let them see me as someone who needed help for such a pathetic problem. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” I muttered under my breath as I walked out of the room, past the lingering shadows of my own fears. And for now, that was all I could hold onto.

The walk to the podium felt like a blur, a strange mix of pride and dread swirling inside me. The crowd’s cheers reached my ears, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was being observed. I had the weight of a thousand eyes on me—both the crowd’s and the team’s, and of course, Henry’s. I could feel his presence even though he wasn’t standing right next to me. His words from earlier still rang in my ears. But for the moment, I was determined to shut it all out and focus on the victory, no matter how hollow it felt.

As the podium ceremony started, I climbed the steps to third place, the media-trained smile sliding onto my face with practiced ease. Lando was already grinning from the second spot, and Carlos gave me a brief but genuine nod as he stood on the top step. 

The national anthem played, the flags waving around me, and I stood tall—making sure to appear every bit the champion I was supposed to be. The smile never faltered, not even when the champagne was passed to me. I knew the drill by heart.

“Alright, time to have some fun,” I muttered under my breath, already feeling a little bit lighter. A quick spray of champagne hit Carlos first, and he let out a loud laugh, shaking his head. Lando was next, taking the spray like a champ, both of them laughing and trying to spray me along with each other. There was an almost childlike thrill to the chaos of it all. The champagne dripped down our suits, and for a brief moment, I allowed myself to forget about everything else.

Lando, ever the joker. “That’s what I’m talking about,” he teased. Carlos joined in, throwing his arm around me and pulling me into a half-hug. The laughter, the camaraderie, it felt good. For those few seconds, I felt good, like Henry was a whisper in the wind and everything would go back to normal. 

But even as I grinned, holding up the third-place trophy, a small voice in the back of my mind kept reminding me of the danger lurking behind the scenes. Henry. The way he had touched me earlier, the things he had said. It was all eating away at me, just under the surface.

As we made our way off the podium and back into the hustle of the paddock, I kept my distance from Henry, knowing his eyes were on me, even if I couldn’t see him. The adrenaline of the podium was wearing off, replaced by the gnawing worry that would follow me until I had proof of his behavior.

Carlos gave me a pat on the back as we walked toward the waiting cars. “You did great today,” he said quietly, his voice a little softer than usual. I could tell he meant it, even if we all knew the race had its ups and downs.

“Thanks,” I replied, forcing another smile. “It’s been a crazy weekend.”

Lando, noticing the change in my tone, shot me a look, but said nothing. He just gave me a small nudge, and we continued walking, the sound of our footsteps mixing with the fading cheers from the crowd.

But Henry’s shadow loomed over me, and the thought of him trying to undermine my every move made my blood boil. I had to make him pay. I had to get that proof. Whatever it took, no matter how long that took.