#didn’t type his name out even 😌

[ryescapades-archived]

does nagumo ever playfully wrap your wrists together just to remind you how much bigger he is? 🤭

MAISIE I HATE U FOR MAKING ME ELABORATE ON THIS (ilysm actually my beloved mwah i just hate That man)

he revels in the clear difference between you. i think. would go out of his way to stand close to you so that he could look down at you, lips curled into that infuriating smile when he sees u glaring up at him. orrr he’d place his hand right beside yours on whatever surface u have it on, making it sooo visible for ppl (and especially you) to see how big his hand is compared to yours 🙄

would get even more annoying if u ever decide to swing a weapon or your fist at himjdjkwkgj so quick to disarm you and grabbing both your wrists in one hand before tugging to keep you pressed against him, cooing “such a fragile thing… you sure you wanna do that to me?” i will literally maul him wtf

[always-just-red]

Hii! I've seen some Pregnancy scenario with LaD's men, but I have this HC-- personally for Sylus. That when fem!reader got pregnant, he didn't really understand how the Pregnancy hormones work, until he experienced one and he got confused how he should act or react because it's feels like he's walking on landime, one wrong move/word, she'd throwing tantrum or being sulky at him

I've heard from my Friend who got pregnant before, when she craving something and her Husband showing any form that he can't fulfill what she's craves, she felt her heart broken, and she'd sulk and acted as if he just cheated on her. The problem is, she always craved something that didn't even exist at that moment😂, she's craving certain type of Mango while it's not even that Mango season, so nobody selling it. He literally being desperate to negotiate with her cravings

So... Can I request a scenario smiliar like that? It doesn't have to be mango, or any foods. Just... how Pregnancy hormones or Cravings could make Sylus got frustated lol

Aaaaa anon this is adorable, thank you! We love making Sylus suffer in cute and harmless ways. He's always asking for trouble, so let's give him some! 😌💅

Something Sweet

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus knows how to get what he wants. Getting what you want might be a little more tricky...

Genre: fluff!

Warnings/Additional tags: female!reader, IMPLIED pregnant!reader (pregnancy not actually mentioned or described- just hormones being hormones ✌), established relationship, canon pet names, a lil bit of roleplay because Sylus refuses to leave his Mystic Adventure era

| Word count: 2.1k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Sy, d’you know what I’m craving right now?”

“Always, sweetie.” Sylus doesn’t look up from his book. “Not now, though. I’m tired.”

Morning sunlight streams through the gaps in your living room curtains, casting pale yellow shapes over the floor. A shard of it has been inching over the sofa towards Sylus, the sharp edge now grazing the side of his face. He shifts, ever so slightly, away from its touch. His eyes are open but heavy.

“No,” you scold, leaning forwards to swat at him with your book. “That’s not what I meant, you narcissist.”

He chuckles with his usual low timbre— his gaze still not lifting— and the sound is deeper for how close he is to sleep. He wants to give in to it, you can tell. When he turns a page, the movement is languid, soft. You’re losing him.

“Sy,” you say again, then with more of a whine: “Sylus.”

His eyes flutter closed as he draws in a deep breath. His hand raises, his fingers stretching to pull his reading glasses from his face. They’re set down on the arm of the chair beside him, along with the book, and he turns to you with a smile. “What are you craving, sweetie?”

You rest your book on your stomach. Your legs are stretched out over Sylus’s lap, and his hand finds one of your feet, massaging an ache from it as you begin your speech. “Do you remember that café we used to go to? The one we found when it started raining in the park that day? We didn’t think it was open, but then the owner knocked on the window and said we could—”

“Yeah?” His hand moves to your other foot.

“Well, they make these—”

“Macarons.”

“You remember?”

His smile widens like he remembers vividly. “Kitten, how could I forget? I’m still jealous of that sweet little treat. You’ve never made that face for me, and believe me—” he wiggles one of your toes— “I’ve tried.”

That had been one of the only times you’d truly caught him off-guard, back when your feelings for one another were unnamed and uncharted. The rain had been drumming against the café window, and you’d heaved Sylus’s damp coat from your shoulders— giggled at the raised eyebrow and the sarcastic ‘…thanks’ he’d given in turn. One hot drink later, you were lifting a pastel pink macaron to your lips, taking a delicate bite and failing to stifle a tiny, almost euphoric moan.

You remember realising yourself: blushing profusely and expecting some remark, some ridicule, but none ever came. Sylus’s eyes were wide, dark, fixed upon your still parted mouth.

After a few of the longest seconds of your life, he’d dragged the plate with the rest of the macarons away from you and muttered something about how you had better not do that again.

“They’re still the sweetest things I’ve ever tasted,” you tease now, just as you’d wrestled him for that plate back then, set on eating every last macaron.

He makes a hmph as he idly runs a finger over the part of your foot he knows is ticklish. His expression is distinctly grumpy, but it falters as you laugh and try to writhe away from him.

You’re quickly out of breath. “Sylus?”

“Mmm?”

He glances up at you and you smile sweetly, head tilting. “Please?”

His coat on a rainy day. The entire plate of macarons in the end; he’s never been very good at denying you anything. For the first time since you’d stirred him from his book, however, he appears genuinely regretful. “You’re forgetting something, sweetie,” he murmurs gently. “Why did we stop going to that café, hmm?”

You shrug.

“It closed, kitten,” he sighs. “Months ago.”

“What?”

Not only did you already know that— you actually visited the café on its final day. The owner was telling you stories: he was moving somewhere warmer, closer to family, and he needed all the funds he could get. Sylus had snuck an obscene amount of money into the man’s tip jar whilst you acted as a distraction. You both had fond memories of that place; it was nice to make one more.   

It's all coming back to you and you’re struck by a wave of nostalgia. You want to go back there. You can’t go back there. It doesn’t exist anymore, and you’ll never taste sweetness like that again.

Your mouth has gone dry.

“Sweetie?” Sylus prompts, because he notices you’re far away. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” your voice wobbles, “I just really wanted… I mean, I really needed one of those—”

“… Macarons?” he finishes for you.

You burst into tears, and one day, you’ll tally this as another time you took the man by surprise. His face drops instantly— lost, for a moment— before he slides your legs from his lap, allowing him to lean closer. “No, no, no,” he coos, “don’t cry, kitten, please. I didn’t mean to… well, I didn’t realise…”

He doesn’t know what to say, and he always knows what to say. He set you off with a single word and now he’s stuttering like sentences are all possible landmines. He tries his luck again, putting a foot forward: “Listen to me. I’ll go to the store. Would that be alright? Or perhaps there’s another café that could—”

You explode: sobbing even more viscerally. Your whole body shakes with it.

Sylus has frozen. He watches on helplessly as you cry, blabbering about the macarons you can’t have and the café you can’t return to. Across the room, even Mephisto has hunched down on his perch, though he issues a few, spirited squawks, maybe in solidarity with your breakdown, or maybe in protest of it.

It’s like a catalyst. You cry more: burying your face in your hands because what the hell is wrong with you? It’s not a big deal. It’s not a big deal, so why do you feel sick? And then there’s Sylus— your Sylus, devoted and adoring— and here you are, punishing him for something beyond his control.

You look up from your hands, desperate to apologise, but he’s gone. More shards of sunlight paint his empty seat and catch all that’s left of him: a few crow feathers, glistening like onyx. Mephisto is gone too, and the room is quiet, save for you snivelling and feeling sorry for yourself.

“Sylus?” you call out into the empty morning.

It isn’t his fault, not really. You wouldn’t want to be around you, either.

…

Something brushes over your cheek, and your tired eyes open.

The sun has ebbed back behind the curtains and the ceiling light has taken its place, casting artificial highlights over everything in reach: the coffee table, the closed-up flowers at its centre and a mug of tea that’s gone cold. Sylus is in front of you too, backlit and soft like a daydream, and he—

He left you.

“Sy?” you whisper warily, because the context is coming back to you slowly, piece by piece.

“Hey,” he coaxes, voice as honeyed as whatever’s turned the air sweet.

You blink, rubbing sleep from your eyes and relishing the warmth of his hand on your face. Then you slap his shoulder. “Hey, really? That’s all you’ve got— hey?”

He’s kneeling for you— on the floor, beside the couch— so you can meet his eyes. He settles his chin thoughtfully on the edge of the seat, his nose almost touching yours. “What would you prefer, sweetie?” His lips are close to yours too. “Good evening, my beloved? Greetings, my queen?”

“How about sorry?” you snap, because he isn’t cute and he isn’t charming.

He pouts. “Why sorry?”

“Because you left, Sylus!” You sit up straighter, and your phone tumbles out of your lap. Its screen is still lit-up from a few hours ago, showcasing a very one-sided conversation and a rant you never actually sent, because it’s still in the text box.

You vaguely recall writing it, so you try to snatch the phone from Sylus’s hand as he plucks it from the floor. He’s more alert than you. More co-ordinated. He keeps it out of your grasp as he reads the unsent message, an eyebrow raising.

It was a lot of things— colourful, creative— not entirely tasteful. “My, my, your highness,” he tuts, “so this is the treatment your valiant knight receives for undertaking your quest?”

“You’re not valiant,” you rebuke, and you manage to wrestle your phone from him. “You’re—”

“A heartless prick,” he finishes casually, quoting your message with a chuckle. He takes your free hand and kisses the back of it, refusing to let you pull away. “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

“You can have your heart back.”

“Nope. You’re stuck with it, sweetie. With me, too. Now—” he sits back on his knees— “would you please ask me about my quest?”

The analogy is lost on you. You sit fully up, looking down at him. “What quest, oh valiant knight?”

His lips form a smirk; he just loves when you play along. “Close your eyes.”

You do— whether you’re queen or not. You hear him shifting aside, and then there’s a snap of his fingers. The air changes, warping like thick, liquid smoke, and you know he’s using his Evol. “Open,” he commands.

And there on the coffee table, freshly teleported, is a plate of macarons the colour of cherry blossoms. As if anticipating the comparison, Sylus pulls a handful of pink petals from his pocket and blows them up into the air so they can spiral down on the scene. He watches them. Then you. “Ta-da,” he proclaims, his tone dry but full of humour.

You’re prone to hyperbole nowadays, but this is without a doubt the best thing you have ever seen.

“Sylus,” you gasp in disbelief, “how did you—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says; the story isn’t for today, and he’s very, very tired. A few weeks from now he’ll tell you about how he tracked down the contact information of the owner of the old café. How he spent an hour on the phone bargaining for a certain macaron recipe, and several more hours in the kitchen, trying to get them perfect. “Now, they might not be exactly the same, sweetie. But I did try to—”

You surge forwards, capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s so impulsive— so reckless— that you almost tumble down from the couch, but he catches you, steadies you, and your hand is gripping the soft of his hair as he kisses you back. Slowly, his mouth not leaving yours, he lifts you back into your seat.

“Easy, sweetie.” His voice is low as he pulls away, and though he turns his face from you, you can make out the blush on his cheeks. He settles back into his kneeling position on the floor. “I have one more surprise for you. Do try to control yourself.”

He retrieves a small, complete flower from his pocket, albeit one a little dreary from its journey. Sylus smiles triumphantly as he holds it out to you, and he was right; you do want to throw yourself at him. Instead, you take the flower and lean forwards, tucking it behind his ear before he can protest. He’d tilted closer to help you, and he sits back with an exasperated tsk when you’re done.

“It suits you,” you grin.

He yawns. “Everything does.”

You don’t want to get into trouble, so you shimmy to the very edge of your seat and carefully— showing tremendous restraint— reach out to take his face in your hands. “You’re amazing, Sy. Thank you for doing all of this for me, but…”

“But…?”

“I missed you. I like macarons, yeah,” you smile, “but I’d much rather have you.”

This time, he can’t hide his face and the way it goes pink, like the blossom behind his ear. His cheeks are warm beneath your palms. “You couldn’t have said that before I spent the whole day—”

His voice is strangled as you keel towards him— slow and deliberate— to thread your arms around him and pull him into a hug. He tenses for a moment, then wraps his arms around you too: holding you tightly, keeping you from falling any further. You can feel his hand stroking your back and he hums as you give him a gentle squeeze.

“Such a lovely moment, kitten,” he muses, your head on his shoulder. “I do hope it’s sincere, and not— say— an excuse for someone to get her paws on the macarons behind me.”

There’s another moment of quiet.

“Don’t be silly, Sy,” you retort, but your mouth is full, your cheeks are stuffed, and not a single word of it is intelligible.

[byuntrash101]

still your biggest fan. – 송민기.

SYNOPSIS. your boyfriend is on the other side of the globe touring. somehow you fear the cheers of the fans will make him forget about you. so you decide to remind him you are still and will always be his biggest fan

or in which you find a novel way to use your lightstick and send the video to your beloved bf.

mingi x f!reader, smut, mdni

tags. etablished relationship, facetime sex, masturbation (f & m), BLACK UNDERCUT MINGI (!!!!!!!!), jealous + slightly possessive reader, but mingi reassures her (awwww), use of (unconventional) toys (wink wonk im insane pls stop me), pet names, multiple orgasms (f), praises, squirting. wc. 2k

a/n. this mingi has me feral and the concert videos got me in a chokehold. and it's only the first date i need help. also shout out to that one video of yungi saying they use the lightstick to "relax" at night. not proofread.

There was one thing that was absolutely certain about Mingi: that man loved attention. That man lived for the roars of the crowd. When he danced, he was electrified by the cheers of the fans. And you knew your boyfriend was made to be on stage. He enjoyed the attention of fans, hence the fact he was constantly body rolling, hip thrusting and tongue poking. He loved to see the thousands of people thirst for him, he loved looking at all the concert videos all over the internet. He laughed and giggled at the tiktok edits, at the twitter threads, at every comment more over the top than the next.

Usually you don’t mind, you even enjoy them too. You like seeing him happy and fulfilled in his job but today maybe you’re a little insecure. He just flew out to start the American leg of the tour and you’re left behind in this bed that seems so empty. You fear somehow the loud cheers will make him forget about you. You don’t want that. You want to remind him. You want to make sure that today when he goes to sleep the last thing he sees is you. 

You looked at the time, your eyes darted to the digital clock on your night stand. At this time he was probably already at the hotel. It was pretty late for you but you wanted to send him a little treat, you knew how Mingi loved when you sent him videos of you playing with yourself and today you might add a little twist. 

You didn’t have much time if you wanted him to see the video before he slept…

***

Mingi was spent, true. But he was still pumped full of adrenaline when he stepped out of the shower with the ends of his raven black hair wet, the longer strands of his undercut dripping down. He didn’t even bother stepping into his pajamas, the AC was off and this part of the world in July was pretty hot. 

He tucked himself in bed, still wide awake. He looked at his phone, a text from you from several hours ago when you went to bed. You were probably sleeping right now. He debated responding, fearing he would wake you. But he pictures you pouting when you’d wake up in a few hours without a response from him and he couldn’t bear to make you feel that way so he typed a quick answer. 

🎀 princess #2: hope the show goes well (ik it will because you gonna kill it cause you the best😌). i lob you. you know that right? dont forget about me ok? <33333333

👸princess minki (real): i could never baby i love you more. hope you have a great day and i miss you baby <3

then for a second the three little dots appeared and Mingi thought he hallucinated it. But then an other text appeared.

🎀 princess #2: i’ll always be your first and your biggest fan

Mingi didn't even have time to reply that he received a video file. He faintly gasped at the thumbnail. It was your legs spread out on his bed. The big play button in the middle of the frame though blocked out the most interesting part and he didn’t even breathe before he played the video.

He continued to hold his breath when he saw you rub your clit throught your white panties. He didn’t know how long you did played with yourself but your panties were completely see through. Your juices were sticking to your folds, the laces barely concealing you anymore. But still, he needed these damn panties out of the way. 

He wanted to see you. His hand found his cock on instinct, immediately palming his hardening bulge. And his prayers were answered. You pushed the panties to the side uncovering the most beautiful sight Mingi had ever layed eyes on. He exhaled a long sigh when long strings of slick connected you to the thin fabric of the underwear. How bad he wanted to be there, to stuff your soaked panties into your mouth while he thrusted his thick fingers into you. How bad he wanted to feel you twitch around him. How bad he wanted to hear his name fall from your quivering lips as he brought you to your peak. He wanted you so bad.

But then you grabbed hold of something, something that emitted light… The lightiny? Mingi’s jaw hung open when he saw you bring the handle to your center, rubbing it through your folds, coating it with your juices before bringing it up to your hard clit playing with a little, prying beautiful muffled sounds out of your mouth. Just to bring the handle down again, you took a firm grip of the rounded part and pushed the handle inside your trembling core. 

“Fuck” Mingi exhaled as he started pumping his balled fist around his now fully hard cock, he kicked the covers off him just to be able to jerk himself off without resistance. 

“Nghhh” you moaned quietly as you bottomed out. “M-Mingi are you watching?” As if you could see him, Mingi nodded vigorously, qmd you gave more purpose to the coming and going of his wrist. “Keep watching me. K-keep- fuck aaaah. Keep looking at me. I’ll make myself cum for you, ok?”

“Fuck yes baby I wanna see it all.” Mingi replied in a strangled breath, his hand going to play with balls, while his other hand held the phone incredibly close to his face. if he could have he would have gone through the screen and right into you. 

You started to slowly bounce on the lightstick. You were obviously already really worked up, your pussy was clenching down on the shiny copper handle and the light was perfectly shining on your hard clit, making it obvious that you were pretty close. Red and swollen, ready to explode. Just how he liked.

So you did. In a few seconds your thighs were trembling and your movement became uneven. You started to squirt small translucent spurts, one then two.

“Fuck baby you’re so fucking hot” Mingi breathed and pumped himself faster. 

You took the copper handle out and rubbed your clit in tight and fast circles, squirting more translucent liquid and soaking the sheets. Your center quivering around nothing. You slowed down with a sigh and the video stopped.

Mingi felt like he was going to sink into eternal darkness and despair if he didn’t see more of you right now. His cock was twitching in his strong fist, his cockhead was leaking so much precum he wanted you to see him too. He wanted you to know what you did to him.

So he pressed FaceTime. It rang once, twice then you picked up. You looked disheveled and short of breath. Fuck how fucking beautiful you were. Mingi wanted to kiss you all over this pretty face of yours.

“Why do you torture me?” he said a little more whiny than anticipated. 

He was so cute with wet hair and his eyebrows meeting on his forehead. He flipped the camera to show you his swollen cock, hard, red and leaking. You bit you lip at the mouth watering sight.

“I just wanted you to remember me. That's all.” you started, your hand finding your folds once again. “Remind you I will always be your biggest fan”

“Fuck how could I forget about you? Are you insane?” he breathed out, his voice sounded strained, in pain almost. You could only imagine how worked up he was and this urgency in his tone compelled you to find a new angle to the video call. You balanced it on the covers and your wet pussy and the mess you made came into view again.

“Fuckkkk” Mingi sighed again, trying his hardest not to be too loud. San was next door and the last thing he wanted was for him to bring up his little intimate session with you tomorrow at breakfast. “You’ve made such a mess. I usually hate it but God I’d give everything to sleep in the wet spot tonight”. You saw him jerk himself off faster, his thumb spreading the precum all over his tip and dragging it down his shaft. Squeezing the head the bring out even more and repeat it again. 

“Please show me again” he didn’t intend to sound so desperate but it couldn’t be helped because he in fact was that desperate for you. “Please show me how you fuck yourself with the lightiny”

“O-okay” You brought it back and stuffed it inside your clenching little pussy with a sigh, your other hand spreading your lips apart, making sure Mingi had the first raw VIP view of the show. 

“Fuckkkk” he whined again. “You’re so fucking nasty for me, doll”

You chuckled, knowing your little scheme had worked. You knew right now he was only thinking of you. Completely pussy drunk even though he was thousands of miles away.

“I wish it was you inside me right now, Mingming”

“Fuck me too baby” he said strangling his cock tighter, more precum oozing out again. He was close judging by the way he kept on twitching in his own hand. The sight urged you to bounce harder on the handle of the lightstick, your pussy clenching around it, gliding so smoothly in and out of you while your other hand kept on abusing your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Baby I-I’m close” he said, a certain rasp about his voice that was only giving more weight to his words. His fist was frantically moving along his cock, now mainly focussing on his tip, making the poor thing absolutely miserable: all wet and beet red, close to bursting.

“M-me too” you said,  feeling the familiar knot in the pits of your stomach approaching its rupture point. The premise of your orgasm manifested itself in the form of an other small sprut of transparent liquid “Nggghh fuck-” you gasped. “I’m c-cumming again” you whined, rubbing your clit faster, in thighter circles. You ripped the handle out of you and one big squirt came out of your abused little pussy, joining the existing mess in Mingi’s sheets. 

“Oh fuck baby” Mingi couldn’t peel his eyes of the screen. “Fuck baby me- Fuck… Me too” He watched as your thighs became weak and as your pretty little pusy gushed out more and more fluids. You were the hottest thing he’s ever seen. And he couldn’t possibly take it anymore. He let himself go. He abruptly stop stroking himself just to let the first big rope of cum sprout out of his slit and crash over his stomach. You moaned louder at the sight. He kept on stroking again, milking more delicious cum out of his twitching red cock, completely repainting his stomach with thick and white cum, grunting as his hips involuntarily thrusted upwards until it all stopped.

When he had caught his breath he approached the phone to show his stomach and scooped some of his spillage between his fingers. 

“Look what you did to me? Just cause you got a little jealous of the fans?” he chuckled.

“I did that?” you said appalled, “No you did that! Stop making me jealous and it won't happen again” He flipped the camera again and you couldn't help but to smile mindlessly at the screen. He was a complete wreck, sharp eyes half lidded, bottom lip swollen and red from being bitten and strands of black hair sticking to his forehead. This haircut made him ridiculously hot. A mischievous smirk pulled at his full lips.

“Or…” he trailed off. “I don't this stop and you make me dirty sexy videos after every show”

“Yeah” you said, sarcasm tinting your voice. “Let's see you do that! We’ll see how it goes when you came back” you challenged him. Your smile sent shivers down Mingi’s spine. He loved you but you definitely could be scary sometimes.

“You know what, I changed my mind. I'll just behave and you can reward me when I get home.”

want more? try my fic facetime ♡

SYNOPSIS. mingi has a small favor to ask you real quick.

want to be udpated when i post? join the taglist here

ateez masterlist | navigation

[luveline]

can I request something where Spencer is already with and married to y/n and the rest of the team has never known about her and one day they find out he’s married when she meets the team for the first time coming to bring him lunch maybe and the team is just taken aback after all the teasing they used to do to him because y/n is just so beautiful and flirty and they weren’t expecting any of it? And Spencer is just like “yeah I did that 👀😌💅🏼”

thank you for requesting !! hope this is okay, fem!reader

“I have something I need to tell you.” 

Derek looks up from his desk with an eyebrow raised. “I don’t like the sounds of that.” 

“I know you’re going to blow it out of proportion,” Spencer says, adjusting the strap of his watch where it lays over his sweater sleeve. “So I think I should tell you about it before she gets here with my lunch.” 

Derek leans back in his chair and tosses the clipboard he’s ticking through into a pile of outgoings. “I’ll bite. ‘She’?”

Spencer holds his hands clasped in front of himself, looking cagey. “Listen, I wanted to tell you, I wanted to tell the whole team, but it happened so quickly, and then I got it in my head that everyone would be mad at me or make fun of me and I didn’t want to deal with it so I didn’t tell you, and now it’s been a year and I kind of want to brag.” He ducks his head, scratches his neck, and refuses to meet Derek’s eye. “I wanted to tell you.” 

“Reid, man, what are you talking about?” Derek feels himself soften. “I’m not mad at you, pretty boy. Just tell me what’s going on.” 

“She’s over there,” Spencer says, pointing.

Derek follows his friend’s hand to you. You’re a lovely thing to look at because you’re smiling like you’ve never been happier, and you’re dressed in a simple, elegant sort of style that gives you a timeless feel, like you could’ve been in a romantic movie in the 50’s or just got back from walking the shiny streets of Paris. You aren’t his type at first glance, but you could be, the way you’re looking at him. 

“Derek Morgan,” you say as you approach, your little black purse slipping down your shoulder, “I can’t believe it’s you.” 

“You’ll have to forgive me, sweetheart, do I know you?” Derek asks. 

You give Spencer a loving, sorry look. “You didn’t tell him?”

“Sorry! I tried, but you know. I was nervous and I kind of chickened out when you got here.” 

You shift the white plastic bag you’re holding in two hands to the crook of one arm and beckon him into your side. “It’s fine,” you say, leaning upward to kiss his pale cheek, “it’s okay, don’t worry about it. I like introducing myself, you know that already.” You give him a last friendly pat before removing yourself, your hand just close enough to brush against his as you offer your name. “I’m Spencer’s wife,” you add. 

Derek laughs, the low first chuckle of disbelief. Spencer’s watching him carefully, and he thinks, oh, maybe she’s not kidding. “His wife.” 

“Yes,” you say, taking Spencer’s shoulder into your hand. You don’t seem to notice that he’s a good few inches taller than you. “And I’m so happy to meet you, you know? I’ve heard so much about you, about everyone! I realise we waited too long. S’gonna make sending you the registry pretty awkward.”

Spencer laughs. You look at him like he’s put the sun in the sky. 

“Sorry, I don’t think I understand.” 

You turn your hand to show Derek the gold wedding band on your marriage finger. “For a year, almost.” 

There’s just no way. 

Derek watches in quiet shock as Emily and Hotch descend the steps into the bullpen. “Hi,” Emily says, plainly confused. 

“Hi,” you say, deferring to Spencer with an encouraging glance.

Spencer puts his arm behind your shoulder, and Derek realises loverboy isn’t lying after all. The way he touches you is too familiar, speaking to a longstanding sort of love. His thumb immediately rubs gentle semi-circles into the fabric of your cardigan, circles you likely can’t even feel. “This is Y/N, she’s… my wife. We got married.” 

“And didn’t invite us,” Derek says. 

“You what?” Emily asks, head snapping to the side. 

Hotch is smiling at you. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” 

“You knew?” Emily asks. 

“It altered his health insurance,” Hotch says nonchalantly, stepping forward to shake your hand. 

“I’m thrilled to meet you, Mr. Hotchner.” Your eyes are sparkling. Derek can understand why Spencer’s married you from that look alone; you look overjoyed to be here, and to be speaking to them. “And you too, Emily. I've heard amazing things about all of you.” 

“Wait a minute, when did this happen? Wha–” Emily shakes her head. “I feel like I’m on reality television.” 

You turn to Spencer again, your eyes following up his cheek, a caress of a gaze as you begin to tell the story, “Well, we met by accident by at Christmas market on Cassidy square trying to buy stamps for cards, so that was sort of our first date a year and two months ago, but we didn’t get married until February, so a year.” 

“You got married after two months?” Emily asks, saving Derek the breath but not the sentiment. 

You don’t so much as wince, nor does Spencer. “It might’ve been unfair to her for me to rush things, but it didn’t feel like rushing at the time,” Spencer says surely. 

Derek knows that Hotch would’ve mentioned you months ago if you were nefarious. You certainly don’t seem nefarious, melting under Spencer’s touching, your almost frantic excitement to be meeting them quelled to a softer happiness. 

“Do you have any photos?” Emily asks.

It’s Spencer who moves for his pocket and pulls out his wallet. He flicks it open and pulls a photo from the clear window, unfolding it to reveal a shiny six by four of the two of you outside of a courthouse. Your dress is white and silk, his tuxedo made to fit. You both look amazing, but better, you look so, so happy. 

“This is the weirdest prank ever,” Emily says. 

You lay your cheek against his shoulder. “I’m the luckiest girl in the world.” 

Spencer shuffles through a hundred shades of pink. Derek struggles to wrap his head around it, but he can’t wait to tell Penelope. 

[mister0ctopus]

Server Room (4)

series - jeon jungkook

Pairings: IT!JK x Reader

Summary:  Your new IT guy is quiet and shy. But when you accidentally caught him doing something in the server room, while moaning your name, you just had to pretend you didn’t see that, right?

Ratings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents

Au/Genre: Office au, Mini Series

Word Count: 4.4K

a/n: sorry for the delay, ive been feeling meh these past few weeks. i couldnt do anything, but i got out of the house yesterday and it was great 😌

🐙 Masterlist / AskMe?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, Part 6

“We haven’t seen you in a while!"

Taehyung announces, his full voice cutting through your frantic typing. “This project is keeping you from us,”

You swivel in your chair, blinking as you return to the real world, and you see Taehyung pouting and Jimin, holding out a cup of coffee like an angel of mercy.

"Your boss is always giving you hard projects with tight deadlines!" Jimin states, as he hands you the coffee his irritation seeping through the smile.

“Thanks,” you mouthed. One sip of the caffeine reminded you  that you’d been glued to this chair since morning with no breaks. Your legs probably forgot how to walk.

"Yeah, that’s what I’ve been saying! She’s either obsessed with you or trying to kill you," Taehyung chimes in, crossing his arms. “Or both. She doesn’t do this to anyone else on your team. Tell me this is your villain arc.”

You sigh as you stretch your back. "I’m the only senior left in the team, okay? After Mr. Tan resigned, all his VIP clients became mine. I don’t really have a choice."

"You need a break," Taehyung declared. "Let’s try that new place across the street for lunch. Jungkook says they serve the best Mexican food."

Ah, Jungkook.

The name pulls at something in your chest. You cleared your throat.

"Since when are you into Mexican food? You don't like spicy.”

He grins, unbothered. "I can skip the hot sauce. But Jungkook says it’s legit, and he doesn’t lie about food."

"Seems like you’re becoming besties with him," you say, keeping your voice casual.

"Oh, he’s great! Always chill, fun to be around. Knows all the best spots for food!” He turns to Jimin for validation, and they high-five.

"I think I’ll pass," you said, taking a sip of the coffee. "I really need to finish this today. You guys go and let me know if it’s worth the hype."

Jimin frowns, his eye smile turning into a pout. "You sure? You’ve been working non-stop. It’s not healthy, YN. Take a break!"

You glance at the screen, the cursor blinking like it’s mocking you.

"I promise,” you replied, your voice softer. “I will," knowing full well that you wouldn’t.

You decided to take your lunch later than everyone else, choosing the quiet solitude of the office cafeteria at off-peak hours. Ordering something light, you sat in a corner, hoping to catch a moment of peace.

But peace? Lol.

Staring blankly at your mug, you tried to turn your brain off, but the week’s events replayed on a loop—meetings, deadlines, late nights. And, of course, the project. Your golden ticket to the promotion you’d been breaking your back for.

You were halfway through your sandwich when muffled giggles from the table next to you pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts. Curiosity got the better of you, and you glanced over, only to see a group of girls from HR, eyes sparkling with admiration. Following their line of sight, you landed on him.

Jungkook.

Effortlessly charming as usual, chatting with a girl from Marketing. His raven hair styled to show his forehead. His smile was so easy and disarming it could probably convince a cat to take a bath.

Fuck. Why was he getting hotter?

You hadn’t seen him since the night he dropped you off a few days ago, your entire interaction limited to his car radio and your yawns. You’d been so exhausted you didn’t even have time to process his stupidly perfect profile in the dim glow of his dashboard, and his glances here and there.

The girl laughed, leaning in closer, completely captivated.

Yeah, girl. I get it.

You got it. Of course, Jungkook wasn’t just attractive, he had that rare ability to make everyone around him feel seen, like they mattered.

He had helped you many times, and you couldn’t deny that he made you feel important.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a scoff. "Lunch with my friends, now wooing the entire company.”

Of course, because the universe has a sense of humor, his gaze flicked in your direction.

Caught!

You panicked and snapped your attention back to your table, hyper-focusing on the crumbs scattered across your plate.

Back to work, you reminded yourself. Stop dilly-dallying. Deadlines don’t meet themselves.

Without sparing another glance, you stood, your chair scraping lightly against the tile floor. With purposeful steps, you left the cafeteria, your focus already shifting back to the mountain of tasks waiting at your desk.

Hours later, your phone buzzed, pulling you out of the depths of your typing. The buzzing continued, and when it started to feel too annoying, you finally checked to see what all the fuss was about.

You had been added to a group chat: CABIN IN THE LAKE.

Oh, right! The annual cabin trip. That chaotic tradition where you and the group rent the same cozy Airbnb cabin, always timed perfectly for a three-day weekend, thanks to the holiday on Monday.

It started as Jimin and Taehyung’s tradition. Best friends since college, they used to rally their old friend group for Tae’s birthday back when no one was married, living abroad, or caught up in other life changes. But life stole their original squad, leaving just the two of them clinging to their precious tradition.

Enter: the work friends.

First, there was Yoongi. No one knew how Jimin and Taehyung managed to convince him to join. He initially declined, calling it a hassle, but then showed up ridiculously early on the day they were set to leave. Next came Allie, the organizational queen who meticulously planned everything down to the last detail on Excel sheets. And finally, there was you—the corporate masochist roped in because, apparently, you 'needed a break.' They weren’t wrong, of course.

Now, three years later, it had become your thing.

Allie: 📢 Attention: Our annual cabin escape kicks off this weekend. Prepare yourselves, pack early, and leave the burdens of work behind. NO work allowed at the cabin. @ YN, I’m talking to you. 👀 Jimin: If I see a laptop in there, I will literally throw it outside. Tae: no work on my birthday event please thank you! @ YN I’m talking to you 👀 Allie: @ YN, don’t ignore us! You: Calm down, lol. I’m literally finishing everything this week so I can relax with you all Jimin: finally, work-life balance 😀 You: 🙄 im trying my best to work-life-balance the shit out of this Tae: we invited Jungkook during lunch fyi Jungkook: yeaaahhhh👍 Allie: lets talk tomorrow what food to prepare when youre back from your vacation @ Yoongi Yoongi: 👍 Tae: I wish I had so many paid leaves that I could go on a trip after a fishing trip like Yoongi. Jimin: then stop using your PTOs for stupid shit! Yoongi: seen

The phone buzzed relentlessly with notifications. Jimin rambling about work-life balance, Tae hyping Jungkook up for the trip, and Allie sending yet another reminder about what to pack. You muted the chat and let out a long, drawn-out sigh.

Cabin. Lake. Jungkook.

Before you could overthink spending a weekend with him outside of work, you put your attention back to your computer screen, pouring all your tension into the project.

The next day, as expected, you nailed the presentation. Of course, you did. Your boss was full of praise, and the VIP clients were very impressed with the discussion. Sometimes you wondered why you stressed so much, but deep down, you knew the answer. Being good wasn’t enough, you had to be great.

Your sense of self-worth was deeply tied to your accomplishments at work. Sad, but whatever.

You walked into the pantry after the presentation, on your way to another client meeting, when you see your friends, all huddled around.

Yoongi’s fresh off vacation, laughing with Tae, Jimin, and Jungkook. The energy in the room was light, the kind that made you want to linger, but…work. Ugh.

“Didn’t catch a thing!” Yoongi chuckled, shaking his head.

“So why do you always go fishing with him?” Jimin asked, barely holding back a laugh.

“Eh, I didn’t want him to be alone,” Yoongi shrugged, crossing his arms. “Also, someone had to be there for his dad jokes.”

Jungkook groaned. “Man, I miss Jin’s dad jokes. They’re so awful, but it grew on me.”

“You say that now,” Yoongi said dryly, “but after two straight hours of ‘What do you call a fish with no eyes? Fsh,’ I was ready to jump in the lake myself.”

The group burst into laughter, and you found yourself laughing too. They spotted you lingering in the doorway.

“YN! Join us!” Yoongi called, waving you over.

You shook your head, holding up a hand. “I’m literally just passing by. I have a client meeting in like… right now.”

Jimin and Tae both dramatically groaned.

But before you left, you walked over to Yoongi and gave him a quick hug. “Missed you, though. Tell me more about your fishing trip later.”

“You know where to find me,” Yoongi replied with a smirk. “But it was mostly Jin and I sitting on a boat.”

“Sounds riveting,” you teased, waving everyone goodbye as the laughter resumed behind you.

You caught Jungkook’s gaze lingering on you, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it.

The week went by fast, and everyone seemed excited, looking forward to the weekend trip.

After a three-hour drive in the early Saturday morning, you finally arrived at the cabin. The scent of firewood and cedar greeted you like a familiar friend.

The cabin was a perfect blend of modern and rustic charm. It ss a two story retreat with three cozy bedrooms, a spacious kitchen, and an inviting living room. Large windows shows off the breathtaking views of the lake, letting in an abundance of natural light that made the space feel even more open, serene.

The crisp air nipped at your cheeks, but the way the sun glinted off the lake beyond the porch made the chill comfortable.

Slowly, you could feel the tension from work beginning to melt away. This was exactly what you needed.

Everyone naturally fell into their roles without a single word exchanged. Allie and Yoongi immediately took over the kitchen, playing MasterChef, while Jimin and Taehyung turned the living room into an entertainment hub. As for you? Well, you were graciously tasked with giving Jungkook the grand tour—not that you minded… at all.

He trailed behind you, nodding intently as you showed him around. You almost sneered at his attentiveness, the way his eyes widened as if you were explaining something groundbreaking.

So, this is Yoongi’s room,” you said, stopping at the first door by the stairs. “You’ll be sharing with him.” You pushed the door open, staying just outside the hallway, revealing two double-sized beds and a massive window with a stunning view of the lake. Jungkook stepped inside, dropping both his and Yoongi’s bags with a quiet thud.

He scanned the room, his gaze lingering on the view before shifting to the door across the hallway. Before he could ask, you preemptively pointed. “That’s Jimin’s and Tae’s room, and here,” you gestured to the door beside his, “that’s mine and Allie’s. Yoongi insisted on not being next to Jimin and Tae. Gods know what they’re up to at night, they make weird noises.”

Jungkook grunted in acknowledgment, his lips twitching into a faint smirk.

“Oh, by the way, each room has its own bathroom. That’s honestly why we keep coming back here. Aside from the lake and other stuff, of course.” You laughed, your voice echoing slightly in the quiet hallway. Just as you were about to show him the balcony at the end of the hall, someone downstairs shouted your name. Probably Jimin or Tae yelling about the cottage.

“Ah, the cottage by the lake!” you exclaimed, snapping your fingers. “It’s a great spot to chill. Or stargaze. We usually take dinners there or nap. It’s kind of our favorite spot,” you added with a grin, gesturing downstairs.

Jungkook mirrored your excitement with his signature scrunched-nose smile. Before you knew it, Tae and Jimin had joined in, whisking Jungkook away to show him around the cottage and the lake. The three of them looked like overgrown kids finally let loose on a playground.

Back in the kitchen, you joined Yoongi and Allie to finish cooking—though, most of it was already done. You ended up as a taste-tester. By the time everything was ready, the three boys had returned, eager to help set the table.

Lunch was a mix of chaos and calm, the former courtesy of Jimin, Tae, and Allie, while Yoongi’s steady presence, and your quiet nature balanced it all out. Jungkook, as the newest addition to your group, fit in seamlessly. Though he was closest to Yoongi, his easygoing nature made him click with Jimin and Tae almost instantly, their shared humor evident in their playful banter.

By the afternoon, everyone was sprawled in the cottage by the lake.

The cottage was a cozy wooden structure with a slightly weathered exterior, which added to the charm. It is surrounded by large windows , always kept open to let in the fresh breeze and the gentle sound of waves at the lake shore. It was warm and inviting inside, with soft lighting, and a wraparound porch showing panoramic views of the lake.

You and Allie lay on a mat, scrolling through your phones and occasionally showing each other funny memes or cute animal videos. Yoongi was settled in a chair with a glass of whiskey, reading something through his phone with the occasional hum of approval.

The three boys decided to swim in the lake, and you immediately began muttering prayers under your breath, for what, you weren’t entirely sure.

Maybe for divine intervention to stop Jungkook from being so infuriatingly distracting, or perhaps for the strength to keep your jaw from hitting the floor every time he emerged from the water.

He was wearing a black compression shirt that clung to him perfectly, revealing his colorful inked arm here, the outline of a toned torso there, and let’s not even get started on those thighs, perfectly framed by his black basketball shorts. Every time he strolled over to grab a snack from the picnic basket near you, you pretended to be deeply invested in your phone, eyebrows furrowed like you were decoding quantum physics. Anything to mask the heat creeping up your neck and the very inappropriate thoughts threatening to invade your peace and relaxation.

By evening, you all decided to eat dinner in the cottage, the vibe now tinged with the warmth of alcohol and laughter. The moonlight perfectly cascaded over the lake, its silver glow reflecting off the water and illuminating the cottage like a serene painting. The soft glow of lamps inside added to the ambiance, making everything about the place perfect.

Everyone seemed louder now, the alcohol buzz turning the cozy cottage into a chaotic, laughter-filled arena. Tae and Jimin were wrestling on the floor, mimicking exaggerated WWE moves that made Allie’s contagious laugh echo throughout the space. Yoongi, now a little chatty and loud, had taken on the role of their coach, shouting absurd instructions.

“Chokehold, Tae! No, no, Jimin, counter with the sleeper hold!” Yoongi barked, his face uncharacteristically animated as if he was controlling two game characters.

You watched Jungkook laugh at their antics, his bunny teeth flashing as he swatted away Jimin and Tae’s attempts to drag him into their chaos. But when the two of them finally lunged at him, intent on overpowering him, Jungkook barely even flinched. With a fluid, almost effortless motion, he sent both of them sprawling back onto the couch like they weighed nothing more than throw pillows.

Jungkook is strong.

You don’t know what to do with this information.

It wasn’t the strength itself that caught you off guard, you knew Jungkook worked out, but watching him do it with such ease felt almost... dangerous. You wonder how those strong hands gripping your thighs, pinning you against the wall, as he pounds—nope. Nope.

Stop right there you horny bitch.

You gulped down the flavored beer in your hand, the cool liquid doing little to douse the heat crawling up your neck.

“Thirsty much?” Allie teased, nudging you with a smirk as she caught your flustered state.

“I—yeah,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible over the chaos.

Jungkook’s laugh broke through your spiraling thoughts again, and you stole a quick glance at him. Thankfully, he seemed blissfully unaware of the effect he had on you, just being his playful self, swatting Jimin away like an annoying fly.

You feel the heat building in your core becoming more and more unbearable. You press your legs to try to soothe the feeling but it’s clear that you need more. You need a cold splash of water on your face, or better yet, a shower.

Standing abruptly, you excuse yourself for a 'bathroom break.' Your friends barely glance up, offering quick nods before returning to the chaos around them.

Chaos.

This chaos is the perfect cover for Jungkook.

Ever since he met you, there hasn’t been a single day he hasn’t felt like he’s stuck in his own personal hell.

He’s been avoiding looking at you for far too long, for obvious reasons.

The last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable. Now that he’s close to you and your friends, he’s doing everything to keep it together, to not let anyone, especially Yoongi, catch on. Yoongi’s too observant, and Jungkook’s painfully aware of that. He’s not ready to talk about whatever is going on with him. Or whatever it is he's feeling towards you.

But that moment in the Server Room? He feels a gnawing guilt in his gut, the worry that he made you uncomfortable. He hasn’t heard a word from you about it, though. Didn’t give any hint that something was off. You would’ve said something if you were uncomfortable, right?

You, with your cold, uptight air, focused only on deadlines. You wouldn’t let him get close if you weren’t okay with him. You’d cut him right away if he crossed a line, right?

Was he imagining you there? Maybe you didn’t actually see him. Maybe you weren't actually in the Server Room. He was probably hallucinating in desire. He’s not sure anymore.

But damn, you don’t make it easy.

Earlier, when you were lying on the mat with Ally, your shorts slipping up just enough to flash him a taste of your soft skin, he nearly choked on his drink.  And now, sitting across the cottage from you, your short dress riding up as you adjust your position, the soft glow of your skin under the dim light…

Fuck.

He wonders how your skin would feel beneath his hands… how it would feel if he buried himself in you.

Focusing on Jimin and Taehyung provides some distraction, though the temptation to steal another glance at you lingers like a ghost. Thankfully, no one seems sober enough to notice his wandering eyes, or the way his shorts have grown uncomfortably tight.

You, oblivious to the war raging in his head, excuse yourself with a quick smile at Allie before heading to the cabin.

Thank God.

Finally, Jungkook lets out a deep breath and forces himself to join the conversation.

But just as he thinks he’s getting a break, Yoongi’s voice cuts through. “Jungkook, can you grab the portable speaker I told you to bring?”

“Yeah, I’ll get it.” Jungkook stands up without a second thought, almost like it’s automatic when someone older asks, barely processing Yoongi’s other questions as he heads to the cabin.

You step into the bathroom, stripping your clothes as you go. Your damp panties are a clear evidence of your need, and you groan in frustration. With a shaky breath, you turn on the shower, hoping the cold water will wash away the tension building inside you. But as the droplets hit your skin, they do little to distinguish the fire within.

It hasn’t even been a day in this cabin, and Jungkook is already a problem.

Maybe it’s because it’s been so long since you’ve been with anyone, or perhaps the close proximity is making you hyper aware of him. Maybe it’s the memory of him, lost in his own pleasure in the Server Room, fingers working his body while thoughts of you flickered through his mind. The image awakens something in you. Was it just one-time thing? What did he picture you to be while he touched himself?

You pull yourself out of your thoughts, allowing the shower to wash away your lingering filthy desires.

After the quick shower, you step out, wrapping yourself in a towel. But you’re still burning up.

Sighing in frustration, you sit on the bed and brush through your damp hair, but it's still too wet… so you pat it dry. As you glance into the mirror, your reflection catches your eye. The soft, golden light from the lamp casts a warm glow on your skin, drawing your attention, and for a moment you're entranced by your subtle radiance.

You trail your fingers over your arms, your collarbone, down to your chest. Your nipples harden under your touch, and you groan softly. The cabin is alive with distant laughter from the cottage, your friends blissfully oblivious to your desperation.

The craving intensifies, and without thinking, your hands drift lower, over your stomach, to your thighs. Your legs part instinctively, your fingers finding the slick heat between your folds. You press against your clit, your breath hitching at the electric shock that runs through your body.

You imagine Jungkook’s hands there instead. The way he would touch you, soft and rough. The way he would devour you, make you beg for more.

You picture him. His body, his hands, his mouth—all of it.

As your fingers slide inside, you bite your lip, your body shuddering with need. You pump in and out, the friction building, but it’s not enough. You groan in frustration, you need more.

You need something bigger, harder. You need him.

Your eyes lock onto the round brush on the side, its dark wooden handle glistening in the dim light. Something primal snaps within you. Without a second thought, you grab it, your fingers curling around the bristles as you lift it to your lips. The thick, rounded handle presses against your mouth, and you drag your tongue over it, coating it with your spit.

Your heart races as you slide the handle down your body. Lifting yourself off the bed just enough, you position it at your entrance, the anticipation making your thighs tremble. Slowly, deliberately, you lower yourself onto it, gasping as it stretches you open. Your eyes stay locked on the mirror, watching every inch of the handle disappear inside you.

The sight alone makes your body shiver in need, and soon you can’t hold back. Your hips move instinctively, a slow grind that quickly builds into something desperate. You ride it hard, fast, the rhythm of your movements echoing through the creaks in the room. Each thrust draws a whimper from your lips as your imagine Jungkook beneath you, his strong hands gripping your hips, his dark eyes blazing as you grind against him. The way he’d look at you, the way he would sound as he moans your name, needy and breathy, like how he did in the Server Room.

The creak of the bed grows louder, and in your mind, it’s because of him—pounding into you relentlessly, the headboard slamming against the wall, his deep groans mixing with your cries. How he’d ruin you completely, leaving no part of you untouched.

Your hand remains between your legs, circling and flicking your clit in time with the thrusts. The tension builds and builds, each movement pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

And when you finally let go, when your orgasm crashes over you, it’s intense—like a pressure valve bursting open. You cry out his name, repeating it as your body trembles, your vision blurring as you ride out the waves of pleasure.

The moment Jungkook opens the door to his room, right next to yours, his gaze immediately lands on the portable speaker that Yoongi had asked him for, resting casually on the table alongside his other things. He walks toward it absentmindedly, his mind spinning in circles, thoughts tangled and restless.

How could he speak to you alone without feeling like his throat is closing in, without that damn knot of nerves tightening in his chest?

For fuck's sake, he’s not some shy guy. Maybe reserved at first, but shy? No. Not anymore. So why the hell does it feel like your gaze alone could drop him to his knees? He will do whatever you tell him—crawl, bark, beg. Whatever you wanted. No hesita—

"Fuck, Jungkook..." A moan. So soft, so faint, it feels like his mind is playing tricks on him.

And then another moan, but this time incoherent, then a soft creak, followed by the rhythmic sound of a bed moving.

His body goes rigid, every nerve on high alert. You’re in there. Alone. What the hell is going on?

He moves toward the wall separating you from him, pressing his ear against it, desperate to hear more of you.

Another moan, louder this time, long and dripping with need.

His breath stutters, pulse hammering in his ears. The muscles in his jaw tighten, his cock twitching involuntarily. The sound of you—fuck. That’s how you sound? Beautiful. Perfect. Needy. And shit… you’re thinking of him? Fucking yourself, imagining him? He’s losing his mind.

His shorts feel suddenly painfully tight. His hands tremble, fumbling at his waistband, pulling the thing that’s aching to be freed out of both pants and boxers in one desperate motion.

The moans and soft whimpers continue and it’s too much. He grips his cock, the hard length throbbing in his hand as he starts to pump. His strokes grow frantic, desperate, matching the steady pulse of the bed as it rocks with your need.  His mind floods with images of you—your fucked out face, wet lips parted in pleasure, the way your body arches, shivering beneath him, trembling with each of his movements. He imagines your nails dragging down his back, marking him, claiming him as his own. The sound of his name on your lips again and again, each breath getting closer to his ear, your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, tighter.

When you cry out his name again, he can’t take it anymore, he bursts. His release hits him hard, his body shuddering as he spills his hot white cum into his hand, and some of it staining the walls.

He stood frozen—breathless, trembling, overwhelmed by the weight of a realization.

You, an actress.

Behind the mask of ambition, beneath the cold exterior of reservation and control, lies a desperate, hidden need.

You had begged for it in silence.

He would make sure you screamed for it out loud.

taglist: @taekritimin123, @vantelover1306, @random-musingsss @likewtaf @jeonmaleficent @almatiarau, @kxthx-b, @lively-potter, @jk-190811, @ilovejungkook9999, @goldietigers294, @dreamyluna18, @va1-erie, @snow-strawberry, @lovieku, @daskewl @jksusawife @daskewl @pp0810 @cherryreadsfics @boyfriendtaekook @michuga @kchukes @ahgasegotarmy116 @michellekosmos @pitchblack0309

[hp-hcs]

i didn’t realize the riddle brothers were a "buy one get one free" type of deal, but alright — simp! overprotective! yandere! riddle brothers x gn! oblivious! bullied! slytherin! reader

requested by 🎀!

2.5k words, not to brag 😌

i love writing the bros’ interactions with each other as like, actual sibling-core yk? they r just so cutie patootie

the reader's patronus makes an appearance in this, but i tried to make it as accessible to everyone as possible, so it's never explicitly stated what animal it is. it is implied that it’s able-to-fit-under-a-table sized though

also this is totally just pre-slash nothing that interesting happens

warnings: couple mentions of blood, mild descriptions of wounds, implied violence, implied bullying, murder

not edited!! this is my first like, really long fic so constructive criticism is welcome!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A well-timed shove to the small of your back sent you tumbling down an entire flight of moving stairs. 

You groaned as you hit the bottom, sprawled out on your back on the cold stone floor. You laid there for a moment, winded. You could hear the occupants of a nearby painting titter at your gracefulness (or lack thereof), so you rolled your head to the other side to give them an award winning smile and an unabashed middle finger. 

You could hear them all grumble about kids these days and how I never would’ve treated my elders this way. You just rolled your eyes at their pettiness. 

“Uh…what are you doing?” A decidedly alive voice interrupted your momentary satisfaction.

“Ah- evening, Riddle!” You said cheerily as soon as you recognized the speaker, scrambling to your feet and dusting off your uniform. “Nothing! Just…tripped. Couldn’t see very well in the dark, that’s all.”

Tom blinked, his lips twisted into a frown. “.....Fine. But don’t let me catch you out of bed past curfew again. You’re a Slytherin, for Salazar’s sake. Act like it.”

And that was it. Tom turned on his heel and continued down the hall without another word. Tom Riddle: prefect, teacher’s pet, and obnoxious hardass extraordinaire—he just...let you go, with no threats of detention or loss of house points. 

Huh. 

~~~

Tom, having just returned from a full night’s shift of prefect hall duty, flopped face-down onto his bed, his cheeks aflame as he let out a muffled shriek into his pillow. 

His brother, in the process of getting dressed for the day, paused at the scene in front of him. 

“Dude, what’s your deal?” 

“L/n,” Tom said by way of explanation, kicking his feet as he shrieked into his pillow again. “They acknowledged me. And they know my last name.”

“Most people know our last name, Tom,” Mattheo rolled his eyes.

“No- you don’t understand,” Tom said emphatically. “L/n is like…the cutest person to ever exist. And they’re so sweet, and smart, and funny, and-”

“And terrified of us?”

“Well…”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, putting his hands on his hips. “You talk about them too much. It’s getting insufferable.”

Tom just scowled and flicked his fingers to cast a wandless spell that straightened Mattheo’s tie and neatened his uniform. “The way you dress is insufferable. Slob.”

Mattheo stuck out his tongue at his brother before ruffling Tom’s hair to purposely mess it up. “Dick.”

“Idiot.”

~~~

Mattheo glanced up at you as you hovered uncertainly by the corner of his desk. 

“Can I sit here…?” You mumbled shyly, your cheeks flushing as the pretty dark-haired boy in your year smiled up at you.

“Course!” He grinned brightly before realizing that might have been too enthusiastic of a reply for eight in the morning and quickly tried to cover up his slip. “Uh…Y/n, right? I’m Mattheo.”

“Yeah, I know who you are.”

Mattheo’s stomach dropped.

Fuck, that’s not good.

“You let me copy your homework in third year for that essay on the properties of wormwood, or whatever.” You said offhandedly, like it wasn’t batshit insane to remember that pointlessly tiny detail. “Thank you for that, by the way. Potions sucks ass.”

Before Mattheo could even think, the words left his mouth. “I could tutor you if you want.”

You looked at him oddly, but grinned after a second. “Yeah, sure. That’d actually be really helpful. Snape hates me, man.”

“Really? Even though you’re in Slytherin?”

“Mhm, his baseless nepotism only extends so far.”

Mattheo barked out a startled laugh as your deadpan humor caught him off guard. You just grinned at him in response, causing the tips of his ears to immediately burn bright red.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Um…do you wanna meet in the library after school today? For our tutoring session,” Mattheo hurriedly added. 

“Sure, alright.” You shrugged. “See you there.”

He beamed, giving you that stupidly adorable grin once more. “Awesome! Yeah- yeah, cool. Awesome. See you there then.”

~~~

You were still shit at potions.

It had been six weeks of tutoring, and you’d learned pretty much nothing. Although, that wasn’t an issue on Mattheo’s part, but rather on his annoyingly hot older brother’s. 

Tom Riddle was surprisingly funny. For someone who gave off almost exclusively stoically austere bastard vibes, he enjoyed cracking jokes and enlisting your help in pulling pranks on his brother a bit too much.

It became your routine. Every Tuesday and Thursday after school, you would meet the two brothers in the library, waste like three hours joking around and getting absolutely no work done, and then going back to your dorm and ranting to your roommate about how fucking cute they are and how you would gladly pay for the opportunity to make out with one- no, both of them. 

(Your roommate is so fucking tired of hearing about the Riddles. You’d better buy them a latte and a cake-pop as an apology.)

~~~

You struggled to get up, your legs giving out. You cursed under your breath, putting a hand to your forehead as it throbbed in pain. 

It came away sticky with blood. 

This wasn’t going to work, you realized belatedly. With what remained of your strength, you were able to reach out and grab your wand, murmuring a quiet, “Expecto Patronum.”

A spectral creature formed in front of your eyes, remaining motionless as it stared at you. 

“Go find Riddle,” you mumbled to the Patronus, your eyelids growing heavy. 

You barely registered the wispy glowing animal immediately bounding off at your instructions, your vision doubling before your body went completely slack, the wand slipping from your fingers and hitting the tile floor with a clatter. 

~~~

Mattheo doodled mindlessly in the margins of his parchment as his brother droned on and on about the properties of willow bark in potions and really, this is important, Mattheo. Pay attention.

“Why isn’t Y/n here yet?” Mattheo asked his brother for the third time. 

Tom rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, Matt. Just like how I didn't know when you asked me five minutes ago. Maybe they just don’t want to see your stupid face any more, huh?”

“What if they’re in trouble? Or hurt?” Mattheo worried, chewing on his thumbnail and ignoring his brother’s insult. “They’re never late, Tommy.”

Tom wrinkled his nose at the use of the dumb (albeit endearing) nickname Mattheo gave him when they were children, but the sinking feeling in his gut at hearing his brother’s distressed tone didn’t help to ease the niggling worries at the back of his mind of maybe they are in trouble.

As if on cue, Mattheo shivered as something icy cold brushed against his ankles. He glanced down. A glowing spectral creature nudged his leg, looking up at him expectantly with unnervingly empty eyes. 

A Patronus. 

Y/n’s Patronus.

~~~

They followed the Patronus down the deserted hall, the animal occasionally pausing to make sure the boys were both still following it before bounding forward again.

The Patronus stopped in front of a bathroom door, giving them both that same unnervingly hollow-eyed stare of expectancy.

Tom gulped and pushed open the door, fearing that he might find the worst.

He did.

~~~

Your eyes cracked open slowly, and you winced at the multitude of stinging and stabbing pains that wracked your body.

You had to blink a couple times for everything to come into focus. You were in a small room with white walls and white flooring, and the gentle dawn illuminated the quiet space with soft rays of light. The steady beep of a vitals monitor faded into the background as you stared down at yourself.

You weren’t wearing a shirt, for one, or even a hospital gown. Pretty much your entire upper torso was wrapped in bloodstained gauze. The jagged edges of a brutal slash across your chest peeked out of the top of the dressings, and you had to close your eyes and hold your breath for a moment to keep from throwing up. Once you’d calmed back down, you opened your eyes, startled to see that you weren’t alone.

Mattheo had pulled up a chair to the side of your hospital bed and crossed his arms on the mattress, using them as a makeshift pillow. His dark lashes fanned across his cheeks, his breaths slow and even. He looked so peaceful and...unguarded in his sleep. You reached down to brush a loose curl away from his forehead.

“Having fun?”

You startled, jerking your hand back. 

Tom leaned against the doorframe of your room with an amused expression, quirking an eyebrow and wiggling his fingers in a wave.

“Shut up,” you hissed back in a whisper, your cheeks flaring red. 

Tom’s amused grin only grew at your dark blush as he invited himself into your room fully, closing the door behind him.

 “Your secret’s safe with me.” He jokingly winked, tapping the side of his nose.

“You’re insufferable.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“What am I doing here?” You quickly changed topics, refusing to even look down in Mattheo’s direction. 

Tom sighed, any amusement on his face rapidly vanishing. “You sent us a Patronus, thank Merlin. Pomfrey said you would’ve bled out if you hadn’t.”

You had no memory of casting the Patronus charm at all, but you trusted Tom’s recollection of events better than your own jumbled and spotty one. “Bled out?” You questioned, your heart hammering in your throat as your voice climbed an octave in anxiety.

Tom nodded, his face carefully schooled into a blank and neutral expression. “You were hit with the Sectumsempra spell. You've been out for three days now.”

Your brow furrowed. “Malfoy got hit with that last year though—and was in and out of the infirmary in less than a day.”

“Snape knew the counterspell and found ‘im just in time last year,” Mattheo mumbled sleepily, his eyes still closed as he tuned into the conversation at hand. “But whoever hit you with it just left you there to die.”

“Charming.” You mutter under your breath.

“Regardless of what happened in Malfoy’s instance,” Tom interrupted briskly. “You were on the brink of literal death. So I’ll ask you this one time and one time only. Who did it, Y/n?”

~~~

“I brought you a cookie from the Great Hall,” Mattheo grinned widely, climbing into your hospital bed next to you and unwrapping the napkin in his hand. “And the notes from today’s Charms lesson, but those’re boring and we both know you won’t actually read ‘em.”

“Aww, you know me so well.” You teased, breaking the cookie in half and handing him one of the pieces.

Mattheo cupped the cookie fragment in his hands like it was a priceless treasure, staring down at it in unrestrained awe. 

You just shook your head at his antics and brushed the odd reaction off.

~~~

You woke up this morning and just felt like shit. You were nauseous, and dizzy, and felt borderline faint. Tom’s voice, usually soothing and comforting to hear, sounded like nails on a chalkboard right now. He rambled on and on about the delicate process of making the temperamental Felix Felicis potion. 

“Tom,” you interrupted, your voice scratchy and quiet. “Can we take a break? Please?”

He blinked, surprised at being interrupted, but nodded slowly. “I suppose…? Why?”

“Don’t feel good,” you mumbled, setting your textbook down and rubbing your eyes. 

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Madame Pomfrey said brusquely as she bustled around your hospital room, shooing Tom out of the way to stand by your bedside. 

(Poppy Pomfrey remains the only person who can and has shooed Tom Riddle III and lived to tell the tale—and all without a single ounce of fear.)

“I’ve raised your dosage so that you can be out of here in time for your N.E.W.T.s.” Pomfrey elaborated upon seeing your confused look.

“Fantastic.” You mumbled dryly, grinning sleepily up at Tom as he grabbed onto your hand and interlaced your fingers together. He ignored the way his heart skipped a beat in favor of letting you hold his sweaty palm.

“Go to sleep, L/n,” Tom muttered under his breath. “Potions can wait.”

~~~

Tom lay in your hospital bed beside you, running his thumb over your knuckles. “Please? We promise we won’t do anything.”

“Yeah,” Mattheo chimed in from the other side of your crowded bed, one arm tossed over your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Or at least, nothing we’ll get caught for.”

You sigh, tired of their ceaseless pleading. “Alright, alright, fine. I’ll tell you who it was.”

Both boys leaned in close.

You sigh again and roll your eyes at their overprotectiveness. “Alright, it was-”

~~~

Tucker Thompson and Devin Dobbs: Gryffindor Sixth Years Found MURDERED at Hogwarts! Dumbledore: “No comment at this time.”

You tilted the newspaper so Madame Pomfrey could read the article over your shoulder as she replaced your IV bag. 

Pomfrey just sighed and rolled her eyes. “I don’t understand how Skeeter is still employed at the Prophet.”

“Cause shock value will always hold weight in the media?” You answered dryly around a mouthful of depressingly plain infirmary wing toast. “And Skeeter’s good at nothing if not coming up with bullshit shock value titles.”

“That may be true,” she began, snatching the paper from your hands. “But patients shouldn’t be reading about such dark subjects, and certainly not while under my care. And don’t talk while eating. I rather like your company, and would hate to see you choke.”

You rolled your eyes at her suffocatingly motherly behavior. “So are they? Thompson and Dobbs; they’re really dead?”

Madame Pomfrey hesitated.

You let out a relieved breath of air that you tried (and failed) to hide behind a cough. “That’s…terrible.”

She narrowed her eyes and studied you for a long moment, her fingers mindlessly worrying the deckle edge of the newspaper in her hands. “It was them, wasn’t it? Your boys.”

“My boys?”

“Yes, yes, Riddles one and two. Your boys.”

“Oh- we’re not…”

She raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips as she tried to hold back a laugh at the utter obliviousness of teenagers. “Do they know that, dear?”

You spluttered out a half-assed rebuke to her statement, but Pomfrey quickly interrupted you.

“They’ve been staying here for hours every day for the last month. They want more than just your friendship, hon.”

“No way. We’re just friends.” You insisted firmly. “That’s all.”

Madame Pomfrey rolled her eyes. “Uh huh. Friends. Keep telling yourself that.”

You stared after her, open-mouthed in bafflement, as she rolled up the Prophet, tucked it under her arm, and turned around without another word—leaving you with zero reading material and a million questions.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

you have to love how pomfrey could not give less of a fuck that the riddles murdered two students as long as she gets her ot3 absolutely iconic behavior

pt 2

[thanosscross]

.....I don't think it's a surprise I'm here 😌, but my request. Could I request a top x reader where daesung spots a dancer at a dance competition, and invites them to choreograph their routines and dance with them on stage? But that's how top gets to know they bc they have a lot of parts together??

P.S will always be lurking and sprinting to the notifs from u love your works always 🫶🫶🫶♠️💫

Of course!! I actually love this concept so fucking much! <333 and p.s I appreciate you <3333

New feeling - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader

Summary: After winning a dance competition, a certain BigBang member scouts you to be their chorographer, leading you and Seung Hyun to experience new feelings for the both of you

Warnings: None :))

You weren’t the put yourself out there type, always keeping to yourself, doing what made you happy and just going with the flow. You had a somewhat big competition tonight, for some it was just money, but for you? You were trying to get your name out there without having to put yourself out there. Growing up you were always in and out of dance classes, being kicked out repeatedly as you’d never follow the taught choreography or you’d take it upon yourself to teach everybody in your class new choreography for competition. Once you turned eighteen though you stopped with competition groups and started to branch out on your own, instead always making it a point to work on your own dancing or teaching others, you couldn’t help it, with how your mind processed things you felt like nobody could execute the choreography properly with you whenever you did it.

You were actually having a lot of fun, passing each section of the dance competition with ease, you felt like you weren’t even doing practice, just dancing for fun at this point as you approached the top two. You walked off stage, taking a moment as the announcer spoke about the competition’s sponsors, etc, etc, you didn’t care, you were more concerned about the cold water you were downing like you hadn’t had a drink in months. Unknown to you Dae-Sung watched rather closely as you walked off the stage, trying to get any idea of how you were personality wise before coming to you with his offer, but as he watched you kneel down hugging your niece tightly before taking a picture he had his mind decided. He was going to ask you to help with BigBang’s choreography, after the last choreographer quit because of how many hours were required of them, they were desperate for a new one, YG sending each boy out to different competitions to try and spot somebody to help them.

Walking back onto the stage you fixed your jacket, waiting for the music to start smiling with glee as you heard one of your favorite songs, turn it up, it was a song you had heard as a teenager and immediately found a vibe with, it actually being the first song you ever choreographed a dance to, so you went back to your roots, following each move like you had just did it the other day. As the song ended you noticed the announcer holding his left hand in the air, your side, you had actually pulled off winning. Now the proud owner of a thousand dollars and a year free pass to a dance studio in town you walked off the stage, happily walking towards the doors to leave, stopping whenever you felt a hand brush against your shoulder. “Excuse me?..miss?” You heard as you turned around, smiling as you saw a young man not much older than you, his hair perfectly styled over his eyes “my name is Dae-Sung, I watched you throughout the competition, you were amazing!” He smiled offering his hand out to shake yours “thank you, Dae-Sung! My name is Y/n, do I know you from somewhere you look so familiar?” You asked tilting your head, you could’ve sworn you’ve seen his face and heard his name before “Oh! My apologies! I’m a somewhat famous k-pop star, anyways! We’ve been looking for a new choreographer for my group, and I was wondering if you’d want to stop by and check everything out? See if you’d be interested?” He offered, you smiled sweetly before nodding your head “okay..yea that sounds nice! Just, message me a time and place” you smiled softly handing him your number “I’m so sorry but I do have to leave, my sister and niece are outside waiting” you smiled softly before bowing slightly “it was nice to meet you” you added before you rushed outside smiling excitedly at your niece as you cheered something about free ice cream for life.

It would be two weeks of Dae-Sung telling his friends all about you and your work before they actually met you, YG wanting to make sure he approved before the boys ever met you. Whenever you walked into the giant dance studio you were in awe, who the fuck were these people? As you walked further in you took notice to the one man you recognized, before it all hit you, of course, Dae-Sung with a famous group in K-pop? How did you not realize? You tried to keep yourself calm as you shook everybody’s hands “Hi..everybody..I'm Y/n, I guess...I'm your new choreographer for a bit as a trial period, uhm...One thing about me is I take my job seriously, because it's not just a job, it's a passion I've had since I was a kid, so if you can't keep up with what I have, then you know where the boss's office is" You explained looking at the boys and back up dancers trying to show a stern serious front, but your nervousness showed through as you started showing the boys where their marks would be and how they needed to stand. Groaning loudly you marched over to Seung Hyun, eyeing him closely "Why won't you just do what I ask?" You asked almost like it was a challenge, everytime the beat would start Seung Hyun would do his own thing, minimizing your chorography to almost nothing.

The boys found it amusing the way Seung Hyun would purposely do things to frustrate you throughout your first few weeks of being their chorographer, either minimizing your hard work, or not paying attention, or making his own moves instead of doing what was planned. That was your guys' dynamic though, Seung Hyun was the only one who could get on your nerves without you kicking him out of the room for the night, you had a rule though, if he ever did get kicked out, just like everybody else you had a three strike rule, three kick outs and you went to management to have something done about it. Walking into the studio you sighed, you had choreographed half a tour so far and with each show that passed you were getting more and more upset, as you'd watch the show from your spot with the stage manager and lights operator, you couldn't help but notice the awkwardness between Seung Hyun and any dancer you paired him with, you understood and tried your best to work around his issue with touching people and vice versa, but there were some things you needed him to do, and it just wasn't working. So walking into the next rehearsal you eyes immediately found the two people your eyes were stuck on the previous night "Seung Hyun! Se-Yun! What was that last night? Everything you two did last night was wrong, Am I just here for no reason? Like if you're not going to do what I'm putting my time and hard work into showing you, why am I here?" You asked harshly, you weren't meaning to come off so harsh, but between management, your own struggles with it, and the fact it's happened three times now, you were growing really pissed off. The others watched you in shock, never had they watched you go off this badly "I-I can't! Either you go or I will" You stated turning your back as you sunk your hands in your hair hearing the door shut and footsteps, you turned around, noticing the back up dancer rushing out, and Seung Hyun making his way to the door "You better stop" You warned "You are not allowed to leave" You added on watching him move back his spot nervously "Sorry..Sorry everybody...I just, Like I told you, I am very passionate about my work, and like I said, if you guys can't or won't follow my choreography then I shouldn't be here trying to get you guys to" You explained, sitting down to hold your head in your hands for a moment in frustration trying to calm yourself down, not noticing the boys slowly approaching you "Y/n?.." You heard Seung Hyun's voice whispered, his hands resting gently on your shoulder, you weren't sure why he'd have an issue with the backup dancers that would come in, but never have an issue with touching you or you touching him, it was odd to you.

"I'm okay, just..go..wait on your marks, please" You whispered, Seung Hyun couldn't ignore the exhaustion in your voice, it had only been three weeks since you started but you and him had clicked, while you didn't speak too much to each other, The other members of the band couldn't deny that you both worked well together, constantly teasing the other, anytime you needed a show certain dance move you were always quick to pick Seung Hyun to use as a partner. Standing up you sighed before your phone buzzed "Damnit!" You groaned reading the text "and now we're down a dancer" You added on, taking a deep breath before looking at everybody "I'm sorry everybody but I'm just going to call it" You huffed dropping your arm in defeat "Wait! Wait, what if you just do it, you know all the dances anyways" Dae-Sung offered smiling, having more than enough confidence that you could do it and kick ass. "It'd have to be cleared by Yg, and if Seung Hyun ended up messing up choreography, I'd probably kill him on stage" You explained pinching the bridge of your nose as you sighed "Do you guys really want to do this tonight?" You asked warily, looking up to meet with all four boys looking at you hopefully "We do, we like working with you, y/n, you're awesome" Dae-sung frowned, giving you a tight hug before squeezing your arms gently as he pulled away "So?" He asked hopefully, you just let out a dramatic sigh before nodding "Go get on your marks, Seung Hyun...I will fill in for a dancer until we find another, as long Yg approves, and you agree that you'll actually follow the chorography" You explained moving to stand with the other back up dancers, nodding at your assistant, she quickly pressed play on the music, as the bass to Zutter blared from the speakers you bounced your hips to the beat, watching the boys move around perfectly as they mimicked their verses. As Ji-Yong started his verse they walked closer to the line of the back-up dancers, you glanced over watching the other dancer, Ju-Mi step forward with you, the boys taking your hands pulling you both forward.

As it approached the one part where Seung Hyun always fucked up you held your breath, closing your eyes tightly in anticipation as you felt his hand on your back, bending you at the hips before he bounced his leg doing their signature 'Zutter' Chorography, your hips pressed against his as you slid down to sit in a squat in front of him, spreading your legs slightly as you felt Seung Hyun's hands slide under your jaw, turning it up to face him with the beat before spinning around you to continue his chorography, You popped back up, hoping to god the back up dancers were all on the right mark as the song came to an end "Holy shit! Why can't you do that every night, Seung Hyun!?" you gasped in shock, Seung Hyun just blushed shrugging his shoulders "Is a break down all it takes?" You joked, Seung Hyun's face quickly showed a look of concern as he grabbed your hands "No! Don't! That was terrifying" He protested, you just shook your head laughing before looking at the others "Everybody take five before we do...Knock out and Tonight, then girls you are free to leave, then I'll bring our back up boys in for the rest of your guys' songs, got it?" You said loudly to the group standing around the room "Seung Hyun? Could you possibly give up your five to go over some moves with me? I feel like I could find something better that fits your style" You offered, catching his hand as he walked past "Oh!, yea...yea, just let me grab a drink" He smiled softly disappearing over to his bag searching for his water bottle.

"So I was thinking, I understand some things I've heard about you..nothing bad..but I know you aren't that fond of physical touch that often, so I was trying to think of something less...intimate than Ju-Mi and I's little bend" You explained, Seung Hyun nodded as he took a drink, listening to you closely as you spoke "Any ideas?" You asked, placing your hands on your hips pursing your lips as you nodded along to the song in your head trying to think of something that would match well. "Maybe something like Bae Bae?" He offered before placing his drink down, trying to find a way to mimic what move he was talking about, just looking awkward doing it on his own "Seung Hyun, just show me" You huffed, grabbing his hand placing it around your waist, you looked up in the mirror in front of you both "Okay....play it" You stated waiting for your assistant to get the certain part of the song ready before Seung Hyun started bouncing his leg with the beat, instead of having you bend he just pulled you closer with his arm around your waist, using his free hand for his chorography "Okay that works, but where's your microphone?" You asked, motioning to his arm with your eyes "Easy, You'll hold it, Ju-Mi could do the same" He shrugged, you nodded, taking it into thought before nodding "I think you just helped me choreograph this dance, Mr. Choi" You teased before turning around smiling, excited to see it actually come to life on stage.

--

As you stood on stage, the music for 'Fxxk it' started to play, you followed your choreography as you watched the boys, making sure they weren't having issues, now you weren't strict on everything being followed, it's just certain moves or sections you spend a lot of time on, you're strict about, or about things Yg wanted done. As Seung Hyun started his verse the boys moved around, interacting with fans before making their way to their paired dancers, you slowly made your way to Seung Hyun, smiling as you watched him turn around, actually following your chorography as he grabbed your hand, spinning you around before matching the boys' movements of wrapping his free arm around your waist as he swayed you both back and forth singing the chorus. As the beat picked up, the boys slowly moved away from their dancers going back to their marks to finish the song.

Whenever 'Bae Bae' played you realized what exactly you had gotten yourself into, as Ji-Yong and Dae-Sung sang the first verses, Seung Hyun and Tae-Yang were tasked with dancing with a paired dancer, holding you close by your hips as he rested his head in the curve of your neck, looking up to the camera as he swayed, moving around you smoothly as his verse started. You moved to your mark following the rest of your chorography before noticing Seung Hyun making his way to you, you shot him a warning glare, knowing he was going off of his chorography for the first time that night. You watched as he placed the girls' hands together before pulling you all over to the boys, that's whenever you noticed what he was doing exactly, going back to the music video chorography for the ending verse.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't having a ton of fun preforming on the stage, getting to preform at that level was something you had never experienced before and it was thrilling for you. As you swapped out with the boy back-up dancers you smiled at the girls "That was fucking amazing, even whenever thrown into improved chorography that we've never done together you guys were still right on point" You smiled, nodding at them in dismissal before making your way back to your usual spot with the stage manager, watching the rest of the boys' performances.

As you all filed back into the studio you yawned loudly "Alright guys, that was amazing, I know you're all probably exhausted after it though, so go to your rooms, take a well needed rest before you're back here okay?" You explained before going over to your small desk in the corner, sitting down to start prepping next show's chorography despite your exhausted state. "Are you not leaving?" You heard after a moment, Seung Hyun stood by the door watching you expectantly "Wha..? No, no I have work to do" You explained, resting your chin in your hand as you looked over your written down ideas, trying to determine the best one to try first. "Then I guess we both have work to do" He said shrugging as he made his way over to you, kneeling in front of your desk before folding his arms on it resting his chin on them as he looked at your notes. "Seung Hyun! These are secret!" You hissed in embarrassed, knowing it wasn't just ideas wrote down, it was thoughts as well. "Have Seung Hyun kneel for girlfriend to BU dancer while singing, he'd be hot?" Seung Hyun questioned feeling his cheeks heat up "Ooo what else do you have in there?" He asked leaning up before you snatched them away "Okay! I'll let you help, but, you're not to read anything" You demanded, before motioning him to stand in front of the mirror.

You both spent all night in the studio, trying out different combinations of moves together, finding what fit best for each boy of the group, whenever you finally did finish you both were too worn out to move, all of your limbs feeling like they were full of sand or concrete from exhaustion, resulting in you both just sitting down against the wall, resting your head on his shoulder while he rested his head on yours "Seung Hyun?..Why are you okay with dancing with me, but not any of the back up dancers that are brought in?" You asked softly, spinning the rings on his fingers around "I don't know..I like whenever you do it" He admitted quietly, hoping you wouldn't hear him "Why?.." You asked again, this time turning to face him "This entire time I've worked with you, Seung Hyun, you never wanted to follow anything that involved getting overly physical with the dancers, but as soon as I step in, you're jumping to work with me and volunteering to help after shows, why?" You asked, genuinely curious on what made you so different for him, all you did was boss him and his friends around and occasionally yell at them. Seung Hyun didn't see it like that though, he saw you as always making sure him and the others were always doing their best and looking their best, supporting them through every show, and encouraging them whenever they were unmotivated, not to mention how cute you looked following along to their chorography slightly from the stage manager and light booth. "I don't..know..You're just different, You make me feel things, I haven't ever felt before" He explained, his hand slowly moving to take yours in his "I always find myself watching you whenever you're showing us dances, and thinking about how beautiful it is that someone could love and be so passionate about something" He explained softly before starting to speak again "I like you, Y/n...I like being in rehearsals with you, I like watching you focus and the way you get angry with me whenever I do something unplanned, or the way you laugh at me trying to make you smile" He rambled, your face was hot with a blush as he continued, you never expected him to feel this way, you expected models or another K-pop idol, someone who has value and worth behind their name, not because of their name, just because of how famous the boys all were, not their fucking chorographer.

"Seung Hyun" You stopped him sternly, he quickly looked at you and you could see the anxiety fill his eyes, you took his hand gently before sighing "If we go anywhere..we're both risking our jobs, mine more than yours, and I need this" You explained, it killed you trying to turn him down, but he just shook his head "No we won't, if they try to fire you I'll fight for your job" He explained, cupping your cheeks "That or I'm sure you could teach a different group? O-Or we could keep it lowkey" He rambled, you cupped his cheek in an attempt to stop him "Seung Hyun.." You whispered, it was charming how much he was willing to do just for a chance to see where things went with you, and the fact the entire time you saw him as a 'class clown' always desperate to make the others laugh, but instead it was all for you. "If you think...truly..we'll be okay.." You whispered, taking a deep breath as he leaned closer to you, his lips ghosting over yours "I promise you" He whispered, you just brought him closer closing the distance between you as you kissed him, Seung Hyun was quick to return the action, kissing you back deeply as he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks. As you moved your lips against his you felt something in your body you had never felt, sure you had a handful of relationships growing up, high school, your twenties, but nobody had made you feel like this whenever you kissed them. Seung Hyun gave you the feeling of wanting to jump around squealing as he kissed you, a warm fuzzy feeling washing over you as he slowly pulled away "So we're doing this?.." He asked softly, trying to catch his breath the best he could as he spoke "If you want" You replied sweetly, you weren't the only one who got a new feeling though, hearing your voice and smile Seung Hyun felt more flustered than he had ever felt before, it was like all of the world's beauty was formed into one person and they were sitting right in front of him with an adorable smile and blush as you spoke to him. You two weren't sure of the future of your relationship, you weren't fortune tellers, but you knew you both would do anything for the other, even if it meant risking anything and everything.

--

Hey loveliess? Lovelies, You like?

--

taglist!!

@ag022123

@acehasmyheart

@onyxmango

@heartz4rubyy

@ericityyy

@lilou-0401

@mitchko11

@learninglinesintherainn

[sansaorgana]

hi! could you write something for benny where reader is the one who falls in love with him first, but since she comes from a rich family, benny is the one who is always pushing her away? he thinks she just wants to use him to cause trouble with her parents since he's a bad boy, etc. one day, he treats her bad or say something harsh to her, and she gets really sad and it's the first time he sees her like that and he hates it, making him realize that he actually likes her too? a bit of angsty but ending very fluffy! i'm sorry if this is too much! feel free to add your own ideas to this and take your time, if u don't feel like writing this, that's totally ok!

hello! 🎀 thank you for your request! it immediately gave me the vibe of Lana Del Rey's song Gangsta Boy 🤭 but I actually quoted her other song in this fic (Happiness Is a Butterfly) 🦋 I hope you like it, darling! 😌

I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻

You first met Benny when he was hired by your father to clean the pool and mow the lawn for the summer. You opened the balcony doors, irritated by the loud sound in the early morning. You came out in your nightgown and a light robe and then you saw him – tan, tattooed muscles flexing in the sun. Golden hair, big rough hands, dirty jeans and his pretty full lips whistling a tune as he worked. He was a prize and you had your eyes set on him.

You took a shower and jumped into a bathing suit. Without breakfast, you ran downstairs and laid on the sun lounger with a book. Pretending to read it, you kept staring at the guy. He was trying to ignore you but your uncomfortable gaze finally made him look at you, too, and it nearly took your breath away – his baby blue eyes, long eyelashes and the dark mystery hiding underneath.

Benny Cross was unlike any man you had ever known. He was from a different side of town – the wrong side of the tracks, they’d say. You had always had friends amongst the children of your father’s friends. Even in high school you hadn’t been exposed to men like Benny Cross since your school had been private and quite expensive.

“Any problem?” He asked you after turning off the lawn mower and you were a little taken aback by his careless and rude tone but the deepness of that voice made a shiver go down your spine.

He was rough and he had a raw masculine energy about him. Not a three piece suit, expensive watch and whiskey type of masculine energy – you were sick of that, honestly. No, Benny was all about beer, bar fights and worn-out blue jeans. And there was no chivalry about him, you could see that in his contemptuous stare, hear it in the rude tone of his voice.

“You’re loud,” you pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

“I am mowing the lawn,” he answered as if you were stupid or crazy.

“Oh, are you…?” You squinted your eyes at the tattoo on his left arm. “...Benny?”

He didn’t say anything to that and kept staring intensely at you. You let out a nervous giggle and hid your face with a book, pretending to go back to reading. He shrugged his arms and went back to work but you kept staring at him whenever you could.

When his job was done, he drove away on a big, beautiful Harley and you bit on your lower lip, leaning on the fence. 

The second time you met Benny was at the mechanic’s garage. You were explaining to the guy named Michael all about that weird noise that your white Cadillac had been making recently when, suddenly, none of your words were audible anymore because of the loud, roaring sound of the motorbike. Irritated but intrigued you turned around with crossed arms and your eyes sparkled at the sight of Benny parking his Harley outside the garage.

“Excuse me,” Michael nodded at you and walked outside. You leaned on your car and turned your head to see him and Benny and be able to hear their conversation.

“Hi, Benny, man. Need anything special today?” Michael asked after shaking Benny’s hand.

Benny spotted you as he furrowed his brow and you looked away, fixing your hair nonchalantly.

“Just dropped by, gotta borrow some tools,” Benny explained and walked inside the garage with his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

This time he was wearing a jeans vest and you noticed he was a part of a gang. It was written right on his back – The Vandals.

“Hi again,” you spoke up first as he was looking around, trying to find the tools. Michael followed him inside and approached you again.

“We know each other?” Benny asked, pretending to be surprised.

“You were mowing my lawn,” you reminded him as you looked him up and down as if he was a dessert.

“I don’t remember,” Benny shrugged his arms.

You didn’t say anything to that. You felt hurt so you just looked down. Benny grabbed a few tools, showed them to Michael and then he drove away. Only when the sound of his engine was disappearing in the distance, Michael cleared his throat.

“Sorry for commenting, it’s none of my business but you don’t wanna anythin’ with Benny Cross, believe me,” he told you and you raised an eyebrow at him. “He’s nothin’ but trouble, yeah?”

“He seemed to be friendly with you,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, I’m friendly with all of ‘em. Don’t want my garage to burn down,” he laughed nervously.

You hummed to yourself. Yeah, perhaps that was more trouble that you could handle.

You nearly gave up on daydreaming about Benny – the mechanic’s words had made you realise that he was much more dangerous for your liking.

But then you met this one girl who had gone to the same school as Benny.

You went out with your friends who had met this girl in college and she was from the same side of town as him. She had gotten into college thanks to the scholarships and during the fancy dinner your friends had taken her to, you mentioned a handsome bad boy named Benny Cross. They kept giggling but this girl – Sherry – she did not.

“Oh, I know him,” she only said and took a sip of her drink through the straw.

“What?” You locked your eyes with hers. “Really?”

“Mm-hm,” she nodded her head nervously. She was still uneasy around people like you, scared of saying or doing something wrong and getting kicked out of the group of fancy friends. “We went to the same school.”

“And what’s he like?” You asked her.

“I’m not surprised what he ended up like,” Sherry cleared her throat and blushed a little. “I mean, he didn’t have it easy growing up. Never was a good student, always a troublemaker. I think he was taking out on others what he was going through at home,” she told you and you pursed your lips as you leaned back on your chair and took a sip of your own drink.

Well, you were doomed. You started to feel bad for him. Benny Cross was a trouble ‘round town but you wanted him. Perhaps there was some truth to the fact you just saw him as a challenge – he’d make a good accessory, too. But you weren’t as shallow as people claimed you were just because of your daddy’s money. You had known from the beginning there was something more to him, some depth that seemed to be unreachable but you wanted to get there.

You hated yourself for that but you started to find excuses to go to that dirty pub where The Vandals were hanging around. It wasn’t safe to go there all alone as a young woman so you would always convince one of your friends to go with you. For them, it was an exciting adventure – however, they usually would only go with you once. And never again.

You kept bravery coming. Spending your daddy’s money on awful drinks in a quality you were not used to. Leaving hours later to catch a cab, smelling like sweat, grease and cigarettes. Being hit on by so many awful dudes that you had to politely reject… And all of that just to stare at that one quiet guy at the pool table who kept occasionally giving you contemptuous glances.

“You should give up on that guy,” your friend Marissa told you after a night out at the pub. She had always been the most honest one of your friends. “He’s clearly not into you and your presence is bothering him. And honestly? You’re kinda like a stalker, darling,” she said when you were in the taxi cab.

“I’m just curious about him,” you shrugged your arms. “All the guys in that club are walking up to me and asking me out. All of ‘em except for Benny!”

“You should get the message already,” she rolled her eyes.

You were hurt by her words but she was right. After seven nights spent at that pub, it would be embarrassing to keep coming back. And your parents were getting suspicious, too.

For a woman who was supposed to stay away, you were certainly not doing good. You found yourself bailing him out after hearing that he had been arrested not so far away from your house for breaking the speed limit and causing a harmless car crash – as in, no one was hurt. Except for the cars.

Desperate, you knew. But it was perhaps the only way for Benny Cross to finally notice you.

You watched him being walked out while nervously tapping your finger on the counter. He looked sexy as ever, being dragged by two policemen. His hair a slight mess, his leather jacket under the jeans vest. Heavy boots, white jeans dirty from the grease… And then he gave you that contemptuous look again that you had known pretty well. You swallowed a lump in your throat.

“You again?” He asked, sparing you a glance before getting his personal belongings back.

He put his rings back onto his fingers and lit a cigarette before walking out of the building, just like that. Your heart skipped a beat. You rushed after him, into the cold air of the dark night.

“Benny!” You called for him and he turned around, lazily. He didn’t say anything and now it was awkward. You didn’t know what to say to him. “I’m sorry,” you only whispered. “Sorry for helping you,” you added with slight irony in your voice.

“My friends would have bailed me out,” he shrugged his arms. “And they gonna give you the money back. I don’t want to owe you nothin’,” he drawled out through gritted teeth and began walking towards his motorbike that was parked outside the police station.

“Why do you treat me this way? I don’t want the money back,” you followed him with tears pricking your eyes.

“Why would you pay for me? I’m a stranger,” he leaned on his motorbike and looked deep into your eyes. “Why do you keep following me around? I know why. And listen, it’s not that I don’t fancy you or anythin’, don’t you think. But I won’t be your fucking toy. I ain’t no purse dog,” he clenched his jaw. “Don’t wanna owe you nothin’. Don’t wanna owe nothin’ to you rich folks,” he added angrily. “Want me to fuck you, I can. But I won’t stay around to be your pet.”

“I…” You sighed as your lower lip trembled. You looked down. You didn’t know what to say anymore. He was right. He was only a stranger and you kept following him around. Marissa had been right, too. Still, his assumptions hurt you.

You couldn’t explain why you were so drawn to him but you were. From the moment you had seen him. And it was more than some stupid one night stand or a wild adventure. But he would never understand it, would he?

“I’m sorry,” you only said and looked up again, straight into his baby blue eyes that squinted now at the sight of fresh, silent tears streaming down your cheeks. “I’ve made a fool outta myself. Wanted to show you kindness but you know nothing about it, am I right?” You sniffed the tears back and turned around to approach your own vehicle parked nearby.

With shaky hands, you sat behind the driving wheel and started the engine of your white Cadillac to drive away.

After that incident with bailing Benny out, you completely gave up on him. This time for good, of that you were sure. And you hadn’t mentioned to anyone that you had spent so much money to bail him out either. Your parents would kill you and your friends would never stop teasing you about it.

Liking bad boys had its price, apparently.

A few days had passed and on that morning after breakfast you decided to sunbathe by the swimming pool and relax. You put on your bathing suit and made yourself comfortable on the sun lounger with a record player in the background. Your father was out of the house at work and your mother was shopping. You were home alone and didn’t expect any guests so when you heard a ringbell from the front door, you got startled a little.

Carefully, you stood up and lowered the volume of Brenda Lee’s song playing. You put on a sheer shirt over your bathing suit and you approached the front door, hoping it was the mailman.

But when you opened the door, you ended up face-to-face with Benny Cross himself, leaning on the doorframe and looking you up and down.

“Yes? What is it?” You pretended not to know him although your heart picked up its pace.

“Stop playing. Got your money,” he told you and reached into the pocket of his jacket to hand you a few bills.

“I don’t want them,” you shook your head.

“Your folks at home?” Benny tried to look behind you.

“No, I’m alone,” you admitted.

A short, awkward silence occurred. You kept staring at each other as if you had a staring contest.

“Wanna come in?” You eventually took a step back and he hesitated before nodding and going inside.

He kept staring at everything as you were leading him to the living room. He reminded you of a curious cat, the way his head was spinning and eyes widening.

“You been here before,” you rolled your eyes.

“Not inside, no,” he admitted. “Your old man didn’t let me,” Benny explained and you looked down.

“Sit down,” you pointed at the armchairs once you were finally in the living room. “Wherever you want.”

“No, thanks. I like standin’,” Benny put his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. “I want you to take them money. It’s a matter of honour to me,” he explained.

“Male’s sense of honour is a fragile thing,” you smiled nervously. “Alright, give them to me then,” you reached your hand out and Benny put the bills inside it. His fingers lingered on and he gently closed your hand around the money.

“Thank you,” he mumbled out and you looked up at his face, surprised.

“You thank me?”

“And I’m sorry,” he added, his cheeks turning crimson red.

“For what?” You asked. Not to tease or torture him but you were genuinely surprised that he had said those words.

“For being rude and making you cry. You were… You were kind to me. I don’t know why. Maybe because of the reasons I had told you about. But maybe not. Either way, you’re kind to me and I don’t know why but… You saved my ass,” he looked away.

“I don’t know why either,” you admitted with a nervous chuckle and that made Benny lay his eyes on you again. “I don’t know why I’m this way around you. You must think I’m crazy but I swear, I’m not always like that.”

“You showing up at that pub seven times in a row was kinda cute,” Benny admitted.

“You counted?” You bit on your lower lip and he sighed after realising that he had accidentally revealed too much. “That’s adorable,” you quickly added.

“Your folks know?” Benny asked suddenly and you froze.

“Know about what?”

“The pub, the money, bailing me out,” he explained and took a step further to be closer to you. You remained in the same place.

“No… They wouldn’t like that,” you admitted.

“And you like that, hm? That they wouldn’t like that,” Benny pointed out, now standing right in front of you. You looked up to meet his intense gaze.

“No, I don’t. I’m not what you think,” you assured him. “But I know you don’t believe me.”

“Prove that to me,” Benny smirked and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Hm?” You asked.

“Prove that to me and come with me,” he extended his rough hand and your heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“Come with you… where?” You asked with a heavy beating heart.

“Dunno yet,” Benny shrugged his arms.

“I… I need to change,” you told him and he smiled slightly. There was a hint of disappointment in that smile, you noticed.

“I’ll be waiting outside by my Harley,” he told you and left the living room.

Benny didn’t believe you would actually change your clothes and join him. He was smoking a cigarette and leaning on the motorbike while staring at the front doors of your house. He was throwing the cigarette away, about to drive away, when he spotted you rushing out of the house in a pair of blue jeans and a white tank top. You waved your hand at him to wait, so he did, although the engine was already roaring impatiently.

“Thought I wouldn’t come?” You raised your eyebrows at him playfully.

“Exactly that,” Benny smirked. “Hop on,” he pointed with his chin at the back of his motorbike. “Ever been on one?”

“Nope,” you admitted as you sat behind him.

Benny nodded and drove away – slowly at first, not to scare you due to your lack of experience. You wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your cheek to the back of his vest.

He took you to the abandoned factory building on the other side of town and at first, you started to have anxious thoughts. But after a while you heard noises of other people and the music. Benny parked his bike and helped you hop off it as he grabbed you by your waist.

“You took me to a party?” You asked and he nodded. “Okay, come on,” you held his wrist to drag him to the direction of the sound.

You were a bit excited, actually, to join a party of the motorbike gang. You were glad you had chosen to wear jeans and a tank top instead of some dress you’d probably be teased about.

At the sight of you, the guys whistled and you could feel your cheeks heating up. Most of them had been hitting on you at the pub.

“There she is, Benny’s saviour,” one of the guys chuckled as he took a sip of beer.

“Not really. I took my money back,” you replied with a grin.

“Told you she’d take them eventually,” some other guy laughed as he patted his friend on the chest.

“Well, I like money,” you told him. He didn’t have to know that the only reason you agreed for Benny to pay you back was his honour or ego or whatever. Sometimes it was good to pretend to be more shallow and spoiled than you actually were.

“For a girl who likes money, you have a poor taste,” some girl giggled and the rest laughed.

“That’s enough,” the oldest man with the roughest voice ordered and there was silence suddenly. “Come ‘ere, child,” he pointed at you.

You looked up at Benny, unsure. But Benny only nodded his head. You decided to trust him and approached the man.

“My name’s Johnny,” he introduced himself and extended his hand. You shook it. “Don’t worry, little one, nothing’s gonna happen to you here. Thank you for helping my boy Benny the other day.”

“No problem,” you smiled, shyly, a bit intimidated by his aura.

“Now go, have fun,” he winked at you.

You turned around and didn’t know what to do, so you went back to Benny who was now drinking beer by the fire. You stood in front of him awkwardly and he moved slightly to make space for you and you sat next to him after that. He offered you a bottle of beer and you grabbed it.

You expected the eyes of everyone to be on you two but they were not. In fact, everyone stopped paying attention to you and it felt nice. It also gave you some sort of security. Even the guys – the same ones who had been hitting on you, now no longer were staring. Perhaps because you had come with Benny. And you noticed – even after this short while – that they all had mad respect for him. And feared him a little, too.

Was he the craziest out of them all? He didn’t look like that. He was calm and quiet most of the time. Yeah, yeah… He had that dark look in his eyes, that dangerous sparkle, the mystery. He probably was a real wild beast when angered. But you hadn’t experienced that side of him… yet.

“If you’re as bad as they say, then I guess I’m cursed,” you told him before taking the first sip of the beer. He furrowed his brows at you and then he chuckled at you coughing at the taste.

“First time drinking beer like that?” Benny teased.

“I’ll get used to it,” you assured him.

But you didn’t mean just the beer and you both knew that.

“I’m glad,” he answered, looking deep into your eyes.

MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Kinktober Day 7: Phone sex with Felix

Trigger warnings: n/a

Content warnings: names (baby, baby girl, princess, sweetheart, dirty girl, pretty girl), guided/mutual masturbation, dirty talk, mc chokes herself for lix, they exchange nudes?, really just pushing gamer!lix honestly like this whole thing is entirely self-indulgent.

Summary: After meeting a sweet guy while gaming, you both finally work up the courage to let the conversation shift to a more intimate topic

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: hi all 🥰 after much consideration, i’ve decided to repost my kinktober 2022 stories. i had a great time writing these a couple years ago and want to share them again now that it’s been a while and i’ve had time to fall in love with them again. i hope you all enjoy! and by all means, feel free to send a message or comment here if you’d like to be part of the new tag list!

Tags: @bahng-chrizz

Smut below the cut

mikasaswife: happy seven months of having me in your life 💁🏻‍♀️

✨lixie✨ is online

✨lixie✨ is typing…

✨lixie✨: you said that last month, dork 😆

✨lixie✨ is typing…

✨lixie✨: i’ve been keeping track of it too 🙊 wanna play for a bit? i’m off today so i’ve got all the time in the world 😝

mikasaswife: ofc! lemme grab something rq and i’ll hop on 🥰

✨lixie✨ is typing…

✨lixie✨: hah cute

You didn’t see his message until you returned and your cheeks went a soft pink. You’d met seven months ago over Rocket League and grew close pretty quickly. You followed each other on various social media platforms and you learned he lived in Australia, which was disheartening considering you were on the other side of the world.

Within about three weeks, he started subtly flirting with you, telling you how good you looked in your latest Instagram post and acting surprised that you were single when you got on the topic of sexuality and your dating history. It was always little remarks and you always welcomed it, oftentimes giving him the same energy, but you weren’t sure how to address your feelings with him.

mikasaswife: not as cute as you but ok

✨lixie✨ is typing…

✨lixie✨: lies but ok 🥴

✨lixie✨ is typing…

✨lixie✨: i’m calling now 😌

You accepted the call as soon as it came in, already on the home screen and waiting for him to join. “Hey cutie.” As soon as you heard his deep voice, you smiled softly. “How was your day?”

“It was good except for that coworker I told you about a few weeks ago. How’d you sleep?” You hoped he’d just answer the question instead of trying to discuss what happened but you weren’t that lucky.

“I slept fine. You should really report him, y/n.” His voice was laced with concern and you sighed softly.

“I can’t. You know I work in a male-dominated field, that’ll just paint a target on my back.” You shook your head. “Plus it was online, they probably can’t even do anything about it. It’s fine, Lix.”

“It’s far from fine if you’re still having issues with him three weeks later.” He pointed out bluntly. “But I understand you don’t wanna talk about it so I’ll leave it alone.”

“Thank you.” A comfortable silence settled between you as you prepared for your first match until he finally spoke.

“Hey, I’m sorry if I made you upset.” Okay, maybe the silence was only comfortable for you.

“I’m not upset, I promise.” You smiled as you spoke, hoping it carried over in your voice. “I can’t be mad at you even if I wanted to be.”

“Is that so?” He sounded like he believed you. You could imagine the smile he was wearing right now and your heart fluttered.

“Mhm. I’ve tried.” You hummed as the game started. He got the jump on the ball and the battle began. It didn’t take long for your opponents to snag the ball and Felix went after them.

“You’ve tried to be mad at me?”

“Well it’s not fair how perfect you are.” You shrugged, assisting him as he made a play that sent the ball well over halfway down the field. You watched as he scored the first goal and grinned.

“I’m not perfect.” He chuckled softly, quietly cheering over his victory a moment later. The sound sent a delicious chill down your spine as your mind raced with inappropriate thoughts. “Now go steal the ball, princess.”

You wanted to protest but the name surprised you and you simply complied, racing towards the center of the field. Your opponents got the jump but after a few seconds of chasing, Felix came to your rescue and you ran the ball to the goal, scoring a second time. The game was halfway over by then. “Atta girl!”

You bit your lip at the praise, trying to suppress a smile. It was ridiculous how he was getting under your skin. By the end of the game, you were a mess. You had a massive crush and it was times like these that made it painfully obvious to anyone with two brain cells to rub together that you were really into Felix.

You were back on the home page when you decided to bug him a little. “So…’princess’ huh?”

“You seem like the princess type.” He hummed in response, not backing down like you’d anticipated. “I noticed you didn’t argue back when I said it, did you like it that much?” He teased, his tone dripping with playfulness. Now was your chance.

“Maybe I did.” You tried your hardest to sound nonchalant but you weren’t sure it was very effective.

“Just maybe? I guess I’ll have to try harder then.”

“I guess so.” You slumped in your seat as you listened to his breathing on the other end of the call.

“Can I be honest with you?” You felt anxiety settle in your belly at the thought of him telling you he was only messing around but assured him he could confide in you, not expecting what he said next. “I haven’t explicitly said it, I’ve only made cheeky comments here and there but…I really like you and I’ve been trying to keep this PG for months but I want you and I feel like I’m gonna fall to pieces if I don’t make a move.”

Your stomach and heart flipped simultaneously at his confession as your breath hitched. The silence was long and awkward but finally you found your voice. “You’re not teasing me are you?”

“One hundred percent God's honest truth. I can’t seem to get you out of my mind and right now I’m thinking of some less-than-innocent things.” You weren’t sure how it was possible for his voice to sound any deeper, but it did and it went straight to your pussy.

“Lixie…” You heard his breath hitch at the name and your imagination began to run wild. He’d look so pretty with his head thrown back, right on the edge from just your hands... “I don’t think it’s any secret that I feel the same way, that I’m thinking about the same things, but…how are we supposed to navigate this?”

“I’ll come visit you or get you here somehow. I’ll figure it out, sweetheart, because I feel like I’ll go insane if I don't have you in my arms. But why don’t we just enjoy each other for now?” His voice was warm and inviting and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no to him. You didn’t want to.

“Yeah okay…” You bit your lip and shifted in your seat, stifling a sigh when the seam of your jeans pulled taught across your already-aching cunt. “Can we? I want you too…”

“I’d be an idiot to turn you down.” You could hear his smile in his voice before his tone changed to one of more concern. “If you feel uncomfortable at any point, please tell me, okay?”

“I will, Lix.” You assured him and heard him shift in his seat.

“I like when you use nicknames instead of my full name.” He sighed. “Is it okay if I do the same?” You hummed an affirmation and he continued. “Tell me what you’re wearing, baby.”

“I’m in jeans and that purple crop top you like so much.”

“Can you send me a picture?” He would’ve asked you to turn your camera on for a video chat but he wanted to be able to look back at this for a while. You didn’t hesitate to grab your phone and take a picture on Snapchat, posing so your face wasn’t in the frame and your fingers loosely curled around the spaghetti strap of your crop top. You giggled softly as he cursed softly and saved the photo in the chat before speaking again. “So pretty…anything underneath?”

“Just a lacy black thong, no bra.” You offered up quietly and listened as he took a sharp inhale, placing your phone back on the desk.

“You’ll have to show me sometime, baby. That sounds hot as fuck.” He groaned softly and you shuddered, shifting in your seat again so your jeans hit just the right spot. “Why don’t you pull your top up and give your tits a little squeeze for me, hmm?”

You did as he asked, sliding your hands up your torso and under your shirt. You lifted it, bunching it below your chin, and let out a hum of contentment as you cupped your breasts and gently squeezed them. You then wet your middle fingers and teased your nipples, gasping at the sensation. “How’s it feel, princess?”

“Feels good, Lixie.” You sighed, letting your head rest against the back of the chair. “Wish it was you though. It’d be so much better if it was your mouth on my skin instead of my hands…”

“It would…” He agreed. “I’ll make it happen one way or another, baby girl, don’t worry.” You whined softly at the name and he chuckled. “You like that name?” You nodded but remembered he couldn’t see you so you offered a pathetic ‘mhm’ and he laughed again, deep and rich, drawing another sound from you. “Do you wanna take off those jeans, baby girl?”

You didn’t bother to respond, immediately standing up and taking your pants off. You opened Snapchat again and set the camera to record, making sure your face was out of frame as you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your thong. You swiveled your hips teasingly, pretending to take your panties off before turning around. You showed off your ass, jiggling your cheeks with your hands, and then pulled your top off before cutting off the camera.

“Baby? You still with me?”

“I am. I’m with you, Lixie.” He groaned at the name as you quickly cut the end of the video so it didn’t catch you turning around and hit send as you sat back down. You didn’t say anything else as you waited for him to open your message. You heard his phone buzz on his desk and bit your lip as you listened, watching the message change from ‘sent’ to ‘opened’.

He inhaled sharply through his nose then cursed under his breath. “Jesus, y/n, you’re killing me. Can I save this?”

“You can.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you got the notification and giggled softly. You didn’t expect him to send anything back but you were pleasantly surprised when he sent a photo of his tented gray sweats, captioned ‘this is your fault, princess’. After a beat of silence, during which you admired his bulge and his hand resting on his thigh, you spoke again. “Can I save this?”

“You can.” You immediately hit save and leaned back in your chair, placing your phone back on your desk. “I want you to run your hands down your body and tease your thighs, baby girl. Tell me how it feels, what exactly you’re doing.”

You wasted no time in running your hands down your torso before allowing your fingertips to graze along the insides of your thighs. You gasped at the sensation and lightly dragged your nails over the skin there. “Feels good…’m just barely touching my thighs, lightly scratching myself and imagining it’s your hands instead.”

You were starting to sound worked up and by this point, he was so hard it hurt. “Tell me more. Do you wanna touch yourself?”

“I do…can I?”

“You don’t need my permission, baby. Go ahead and touch yourself. Tell me all about it.”

“Are you?” You asked quietly as you slipped a hand into your panties. “Can you tell me what you’re doing too?”

“I am.” He confirmed, taking a stilted breath. “I’m just touching myself through my sweatpants right now, listening to your pretty sounds. I’m so fucking hard right now…”

His soft groan made you impossibly wetter and you whimpered as you finally ghosted your middle finger over your clit. “Good…I can’t be the only one this turned on.”

“And just how turned on are you?” His voice was a low rumble in your ears and you clenched around nothing as your free hand adjusted your headset.

“I’m fucking dripping, Lixie.” You whined, a small pout forming on your lips as you dipped a finger into your wetness. You dragged your arousal up to your clit and sighed at the sensation. “God I wish you were here right now, I just know your hands would feel so good…”

“Mm what about my mouth? I could eat you out forever if you’d let me.” You whimpered at the thought and stood abruptly, shoving your panties down your legs and dropping them with your jeans. You settled back in and draped your legs over the armrests of your gaming chair, immediately slipping your hand back between your legs. “Hey baby?” You hummed in response as your fingers circled your clit before teasing at your entrance. “Can you moan my name? I’m dying to hear it.”

You let your eyes slip shut and slid two fingers in your dripping cunt, a small moan tumbling from your lips as your palm ground against your clit while you stretched yourself open. You allowed yourself to imagine him knelt between your legs, fingers plunged deep inside you, and called out his name as you clenched at the thought. “Fuck, Felix, please…” Just as you moaned for him, your phone buzzed. You grabbed it and opened the Snapchat video he sent you, biting your lip when you saw the tip of his cock peeking out from his waistband, already drooling on his belly as his thumb brushed back and forth across his sweats. “Oh- can I save it?”

“Of course, princess.” You quickly saved it and bit your lip as you contemplated what you were about to ask. Before you could speak though, he beat you to it. “Baby…can we turn our cameras on? We don’t have to but I’d certainly like to see you.”

“I was about to ask the same thing…” As soon as the words left your lips, he switched his camera on and you were met with the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen. He was reclined in his gaming chair, shirtless and with his dick out. You wanted to reach through the screen the second you saw him. He settled back and waited for you to turn your camera on, wrapping his hand around his thick shaft as you tried to force your eyes away long enough to complete the task at hand. “You’re so fucking pretty, Lixie…” You whispered as you turned your camera on.

You saw his cock twitch in his hand and you weren’t sure if it was because of what you said or because of the way you presented yourself to him. Your LED lights paired with a lamp in the corner made you glow and your pussy glistened in the purple lighting. “Holy shit, baby girl…” His voice was strained as gave his cock a single tug before releasing it. “God I want a taste…can you tell me how you taste, princess?”

You eagerly stuffed your messy fingers in your mouth and sucked them clean with a moan, your free hand kneading your breasts. “So fucking sweet. It’s so good, Lix.” You watched as he began to slowly work his dick, resting his head back against his chair and peeking out at you.

“I’m gonna get you out here so I can taste you for myself, I swear.” He let out a moan in a pitch you weren’t expecting as he jerked off and your pussy clenched. “Bury my head between your legs for hours and make you shake…”

“Please do.” You slid your fingers back inside yourself and curled them, searching for your g-spot. You gasped when you found it and called his name as if it was him touching you. You heard his breathing grow ragged as he watched you, both of you barreling towards the edge as you fingered yourself.

The image of him fucking his hand would forever be burned into your mind and you couldn’t even pretend to be mad about it. He was turned on by you. You were the reason he was touching himself. You were the reason he called out to you and warned you of his impending orgasm. “Gonna fuckin’ cum, princess-”

“Do it. Show me how gorgeous you look when you let go, Lixie.” You begged, eyes locked on the image of his angry red cock on your screen. Your words sent him spiraling and you watched as his cum landed all over his belly and hand, more desperate moans falling from his lips.

A lazy smile spread across his face as his moan turned into a chuckle. “Your turn, sweetheart.” He teased, obliging you when you asked him to taste himself. “It’s good but I’m willing to bet it’d be a thousand percent better mixed with yours. Maybe I’ll cum inside and eat it out of your pretty pussy.” You made a pathetic sound and he smirked. “You like that idea?” You nodded and gasped when you gently pinched your nipple.

“Fucking love it…” You nodded, your free hand moving to your throat. “I’m so fucking close, oh my god-” You keened, carefully restricting blood flow as you choked yourself.

“Yeah? My dirty girl gonna cum for me?” The name was the last straw and you cried out an affirmation as your legs clamped shut around your hand, liquid bliss filling your veins as you came undone. “Look how pretty you are when you cum…I can’t wait to get you like this by my own hands, princess.”

He coached you through your orgasm and listened as you repeated his name over and over, trying his damndest not to get hard again. After a couple minutes, your breathing began to even out and he sat up properly in his chair, grabbing a couple tissues to clean up with. “You did such a good job, pretty girl.” He cooed and you smiled softly. “Why don’t you clean yourself up and if you’re feeling up to it we can play another round or watch something together? Or if you’d rather go to sleep we can hang up and-”

“I do wanna sleep but if you hang up on Discord it better be to call me back on Snapchat and talk with me until I nod off.” You teased as you righted yourself in your chair. “Your voice is so warm and comforting. It’s nice to fall asleep to…” You added and he smiled softly at you, eyes full of adoration.

“Okay, I’ll call you there. Go get cleaned up and let me know when you’re ready.” You nodded and muttered a soft ‘goodbye’ before he ended the call.

✨lixie✨ is offline

<-d-6 | d-8->

[udidntseemelikethisshhhh]

No one asked but here you go some cute maybe a little suggestive Earth-42 Miles Morales headcanons, and a few blurbs 😌

WARNING ⚠️readers gender not specified, jealous behavior, guy with hot accent.

(Let me know if I missed any)

I have this huge urge to braid his hair 😭 (I’m I the only one??)

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Earth!42 Miles X Reader Headcanons and Blurbs

“Wear what you want, I can fight” type guy but with a little twist. He would still get slight jealous that other people besides him get to see your attractive features (which they all are) but likes to see you smile so he sucks it up just for you

Will NEVER raise his voice at you, when you guys are in the middle of a silly fight no one yells, when you both get frustrated, you both walk away take deep breaths, think over the reason why you were fighting in the first place, then you guys stop and talk it out

Rio loves to bake/cook with you depending on what your good at

If you can’t do both she more than happy to help teach her future daughter in law

Shopping with or for you is a MUST

Loves resting his tired little head on your chest, but around Rio your shoulders, and Aaron nothing (he gotta look tough yk, no sappy bullshit around the big man)

Though he doesn’t seem like it, he’s a big whiner, and when he does he drags out the word Ma

Loves teasing you when you accidentally say something that can be unintentionally dirty

You see it, you like it, you want it, Miles buys it

I see Miles as the type of guy to go on calming car rides while listening to music for fun

He definitely listens to Rema (even if he can’t understand him)

If you draw, he will absolutely just lean on your chair and watch as you hum along to a tune in your head

Tries so hard to make sure you don’t know he’s Prowler

Eventually tells you because he knows he shouldn’t keep secrets (husband material)

When he told you, you were shock and need some time to get used to it but loved him the same no matter what

Later would say things to him like “you know, that kind of makes you more hotter babe?”

Likes to hold you so tight in bed that you have to beg him to let go so that you don’t pee your pants

Calls you unique versions of your first/ last name to seem more special

When Aaron meets you he was shocked

He didn’t expect to see such an understanding and nice people to be with Miles

Invited to all family events (by Rio)

Practically know everyone from the Morales family

Your friends and family are shocked when they found out you were with someone like Miles

Got used to it and love him, but not as much as you

Matching shoes everyday, and if you guys can’t see each other for some reason he will text to ask which Jordan’s your planning to wear so that he could match

When your flustered will call you Mami, or Mi amor to make it worse

Loves to lay on your thighs while you play with his hair

(If you have siblings) before they officially met him they would tease you when they walk into your room unannounced to see you looking like a tomato with your phone to your ear

Will whisper “good morning/goodnight Ma” in his groggy voice bc he knows it makes go🥴

Loves finding new matching wallpapers with you every two weeks

If someone is looking at you, he will gently but swiftly grab your chin and give you a kiss, even if he doesn’t like PDA

Rio brags about you to all her coworkers, and how she’s “So lucky that my son found someone as amazing as [Name]”

When Miles annoys you, all you have to do is walk to the living room/ kitchen, point upstairs, and she will yell at Miles to quit bothering you

Loves when you patch him up because when your done you kiss each and every spot making him wanna get hurt even more

Would kill for you “Ma, not saying I will, but I would if it came down to it” in which you would say “Someone complimenting me is not ‘coming down to it’ you understand?”

When you roll your eyes at him just has to be like “do that again I dare you” and you shut that down real quick

Folds when he hugs you from behind and vice versa

Finished this at 11:20 pm, so if it’s not to your liking to bad bc at least most of this stuff is completely original 😌✋🏽

[drabbles-mc]

For Better or Worse

Horacio Carrillo x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, angst, angsty angst

30 Fic Challenge with prompts from This List: pyrrhic- won at too great a cost

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: it's been forever and a day since i've written for my fave colombian colonel but the second i saw this prompt i knew it was made for him and his heartbreak 😌

Your relief when it was all done and over with was twenty-fold, a million different reasons to breathe easier now and they were all intertwined with one another. You were relieved in te grandiose, altruistic sense: Escobar’s death made the streets of Colombia safer for everyone. There was one less sword hanging over people’s heads, the fear of going to the shops or hailing a taxi would finally start to subside. Children could feel safe going to and from school, playing with their friends along the way. Medellín could try to take a moment to rest and recover.

Then there were the selfish, much more personal reasons that you were relieved. You could finally sleep through the night again, maybe your hands would finally stop trembling every time you heard his name. Your wedding ring wouldn’t have to keep serving as a token of prayer for the safety of your husband. You wouldn’t have to worry about where he was, if he was alive or injured, because now he would get to be home. You’d go to sleep with him there, and when you woke up he’d still be there.

Horacio had gone to war with Escobar and managed to be the one who lived to tell the tale. And you were relieved by that in a way that you couldn’t manage to put into words.

You cried when the news broke. Years of sobs that had been locked inside your chest finally getting able to break free, tears streaming down your cheeks until they fell and splattered against the floorboards. All that time spent drowning in fear that you couldn’t express, your claws digging so deeply into the few strands of hope you still had that it’d be scarred for the rest of time. But it was worth it. Every agonizing moment had been worth it because of the news reel constantly looping on your television.

You waited for the phone to start ringing. There was still work to be done, and you knew that, but you were waiting for that to be taken care of, and for Horacio to call. With every task you completed you made sure that you were still listening intently for the phone. Even on the opposite side of the house, you were waiting to hear it, ready to drop everything you were doing to answer it.

Minutes easily turned into an hour, one hour gave way to three, and the phone was still silently hanging on the wall. The sun continued its arc over the top of your house, the sky slowly changing color the closer and closer it got to the horizon line. The relief that you had been feeling earlier in the day began to fade, the knot in your stomach beginning to retie itself.

The sky was dissolving into a light gray when you heard the sound of a key in the lock of the front door. You were sitting at the dining room table, head snapping in the direction of the sound. Without realizing it, you held your breath as you waited for the door to open and for Horacio to walk through.

It was only the sound of his boots on the floor that let you know it was him. He’d never really been the type to call out for you when he got home. He wasn’t going to change now—ever the man of routine. There were a few moments of quiet, and the next set of footsteps you heard were much quieter than the ones previously, his boots surely left right beside the door now.

When he materialized in the dining room doorway, you were up on your feet before you could stop yourself. You didn’t feel your legs carrying you over to him, but before you knew it your arms were thrown around him, face buried in the crook of his neck. Your fingers threaded themselves into the hair on the back of his head, hair that was growing unruly because getting it cut hadn’t been at the top of the priority list in a long time.

His arms snaked around your waist, and as he pulled you in tighter, you felt he tension begin to bleed out of his shoulders. The breath that had been held captive in your chest made its way out with a shudder as the two of you collapsed into each other.

Time slipped away, and you weren’t sure how long the two of you stood like that in the middle of the house. When you finally pulled back from him, you didn’t go very far. Hands resting on his shoulders, fingers curled over the curve of them, you tried to dig up the right words to say.

You brought one hand to the side of his face, thumb tracing back and forth over the stubble that was beginning to grow in there. When you finally got the words out, they came in a choked whisper, like the hours spent waiting in silence had caused your vocal cords to rust. “You did it. It’s over.”

He placed his hand on top of yours, his fingers filling in the gaps between yours. He clasped your hand in his as he pulled it away from his cheek. You were looking back and forth between his eyes and your intertwined hands, tears of relief prickling the edges of your eyes as he pressed his lips to your knuckles.

You waited with bated breath to hear what he was going to say next. Waited for some confirmation of what you’d said, some expression of his own relief. His eyes shut for a moment, lips still pressed against your hand. You could see it, feel it, the way that he pulled in each deep, slow breath.

Finally, he opened his eyes. He let your hands drop down, fingers still laced together. He nodded, not frowning but certainly not smiling either as he said, “For now.”

It felt like your entire body was trying to fold into itself at that. You hated the way you could feel your bottom lip starting to tremble but you couldn’t stop it from happening. Hand on his chest, you could feel his heartbeat underneath your palm. Steady as it ever was.

“Horacio…” you started and stopped your sentence all in the same breath, unsure of what you really wanted to say to him next.

Pulling you in, he kissed you lightly on the lips before moving and placing another kiss to your temple, lips beside your ear as he gave a soft but earnest, “I love you.”

Your eyes shut, tears clinging to your eyelashes for all that they were worth. “I love you too.”

With more tenderness than the world at large thought he was capable of, he caught and brushed the tears off your face with the pad of his thumb. Whisked them away before they had the opportunity to leave a stain.

“You’re home now?” you asked, hesitation in your voice saying that you already knew the answer.

Confusion flickered across his face. “Of course I am. I’ve always been—”

“No you haven’t,” you stopped him short, a tremor still permeating your voice. “You know you haven’t.”

He frowned, and you could practically see the gears turning in his mind as he tried to figure out what he was supposed to say next. There was no rulebook for this, not that he had ever been a fan of the concept anyway. It was all uncharted territory—always had been. The two of you had been managing so far, or some approximation of that, but for you it was doable because there had always been the end-goal, the finish line. It felt as though it was always getting farther and farther away. But then today happened. And the news played. You’d done it—you’d made it to the end of the agony.

Or at least that’s what you’d thought until those first two words fell from his lips. The relief of victory was being ripped away from you when you’d barely been able to brush it with the tips of your fingers.

He felt you thinking about pulling away. Giving your hand a gentle squeeze, he tried to coax you into staying close. “I know that it hasn’t been easy.”

“It was supposed to be over, Horacio,” your voice cracked and there was nothing you could do to stop it. “He’s dead—that’s what this has all been about, hasn’t it? It’s over.” Your hands, even the one enveloped by his, trembled. “It’s supposed to be over now.” You sniffled to try to keep your tears and the rest of your emotions at bay. “You won.”

“This time,” he conceded with a nod. “But there’s always another—”

“Does it have to be you?”

“What?”

“Can’t it be someone else?”

“I’m—”

“Just this once?” you plead. “You did all of this for them. Why can’t it be someone else’s turn now?”

He shook his head, and you waited for the argument, but it never came. You couldn’t tell by the look on his face whether he was silent because he wasn’t ready to say the answer that he had in mind, or if he was silent because the answer hadn’t come to him yet. It’d be nice if he was just trying to be merciful.

 Another few seconds of silence passed before he pulled you in again. You fought him for a moment before allowing your cheek to rest against his shoulder. When you felt his hands splaying across your back you tried to find the comfort in it, but all you could think about was the fact that you didn’t know when you’d get to have him like this again. He was supposed to be home. That was supposed to be the reward for the both of you, the sliver of benefit for all that this war had cost the two of you.

“I can’t,” you stammered out, “I can’t do this again.”

You felt the way he turned, lips brushing against the side of your head with each word. “What do you mean?”

Not pulling yourself off of him, you shook your head as best you could. “We almost didn’t make it through this one, Horacio. I…I know that we won’t be able to do it again.”

“We’re alright,” he reassured, and he even sounded like he believed it.

Now you pulled away. Not far, just enough so that you could look him in the eye when you spoke to him. “We won’t be if you do this again.” Your voice was level, more certain than it’d been yet.

His eyes narrowed for a moment. For a split second you weren’t his wife, you were just another person that he had to size up to see if he could put stock into the threat. It stung but you couldn’t back down now that you’d said it. All those years of silence and now this.

“What are you saying?” he asked, like he didn’t already know.

You took a steadying breath, making sure to choose your words carefully. If he was going to be The Colonel right now instead of your husband, you were going to act accordingly. “I’m saying that these last few years turned you, turned us into something else entirely. And I took it because I…I know what they asked of you. But they aren’t…they aren’t asking anymore. I almost lost you over this one. I can’t keep us tethered together for another.”

“So you’ll leave?”

“You’ll leave. Again.”

His hands were resting on the outsides of your arms, brows pinned together in confusion. “Again?”

“You haven’t been here in—”

“Yes I—”

“No, you haven’t.” You stood firm, knowing that you were right and he couldn’t take that away from you. “Not really. The shell of you might have come through that door a couple nights a week, but you,” you emphasized your statement by placing your palm flat against his chest, “haven’t made it home in a long time.”

He didn’t say it, wouldn’t cop to it so easily, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that your words had struck a chord with him. His thumb ran back and forth across your arm. “This wasn’t ever going to be easy.”

You shook your head. “But it wasn’t ever supposed to be this hard. Not…not forever, anyway.”

“You say that like this has all cost you something,” bitterness began to creep into his voice. He was teetering on the edge of getting cruel and you could feel him fighting it off.

“It has. And,” your fingers curled, gripping the fabric of his fatigues, “and if I lose you then it’s going to cost me everything.” You could feel the sting of tears in your eyes again. “I feel like it already has.”

He shook his head. “You can’t ask me to do this.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “But you can keep asking me?”

“Did it mean anything?” The edge in his tone was renewed, a freshly sharpened blade. “Your vows?”

You stepped back, your hand holding the space between the two of you. “You don’t get to throw—”

“What happened to better or worse?”

You threw your arms out, gesturing to the entirety of the world around you. “I lived it!” you snapped. “What do you think this has all been, Horacio?” You angrily wiped at the tears that were spilling down your cheeks. “This was the ‘worse’ of it all. I knew that. I knew that and I stayed because I promised you that I would. But…but if you’re all out of better for me, if all you have left for me is the worst of it, then I don’t…”

The longer that the silence stretched between the two of you, the more foolish you felt for having been relieved in the first place at all. The universe should’ve taught you to know better by now. Or, at the very least, your husband should’ve. The look he was giving you was an unwavering one, one that made you feel like you should be saying something more but it was all in his court now. If he wanted something, had something to say, it was all on him now. You said your piece after keeping it locked inside your chest for so long. Now it was his turn.

His jaw twitched and you felt it, that feeling of your breath stopping halfway down your throat. You waited for the next devastating blow, or even a surprise of him coming back with something that you wanted to hear, something that resembled compromise.

When he opened his mouth to speak, you swore that you could actually feel the way that your heart stopped as you waited for him to speak. Then the furrow in his brow disappeared, his jaw snapped shut, and you felt like collapsing to the floor all over again for a completely different reason. You ran your thumb along the wedding band wrapped around your finger, and Horacio watched silently as you did. A stalemate in the wake of victory wasn’t what either of you had been expecting, but for now it was what you had.

(divider by @silkholland 💞)

Narcos Taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added to any of my taglists!): @garbinge @winchestershiresauce @sizzlingcloudmentality @panagiasikelia @616wilsons

@hauntedforsst @boomclapxox @nessamc @supersanelyromantic @padbrookcottage

@mysun-n-stars @raincoffeeandfandoms @justreblogginfics @ashlingnarcos @proceduralpassion

@artemiseamoon @narcolini @hausofmamadas @cositapreciosa

[hb-writes]

A Familiar Tune

Summary: It’s 1924 in the Little Lady Blinderverse. When Isiah and his girlfriend have a very public break up at the Garrison, Clara tries to make him feel better.

Characters: Isiah Jesus and Clara Shelby

Content Warnings: Break ups suck. Some swearing, some drinking, some smoking, mentions of sex. The typical peaky content.

Tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

—

"Come on, Clara. It's our birthday."

“He’s fine.” 

“Isiah can handle himself.” 

Clara knew it was true. Michael and Finn were right, even if they were both drunk and being right assholes about the whole thing. Finn had even laughed, a bit of his drink spit across the table when Isiah stormed out. 

Clara had tried to smack her brother upside the head in retribution then, but Finn had stopped her, the tightly wrapped fingers around her wrist easily able to quell the attack. Part of her had wanted to go for another swing with her free hand, but then she remembered Isiah. 

She remembered the look on his face when he’d left the pub and something ached in her chest, a pain worse than Finn’s hand squeezing her arm. Worse than whatever guilt she felt at leaving the little birthday celebration Finn had cobbled together for the two of them.

“Just leave it, Clara,” Michael said as he sipped from the glass of mild, calm as ever as he remained reclined in his chair.

Clara ignored the guidance as she wrenched her arm free from Finn’s grasp, pulling her coat and then Isiah’s up into her arms as she passed his empty chair. 

His chair in the snug had been empty most of the night as he sat with Lisette and her friends on the other side of the pub. Lisette didn’t like being tucked away in a private room. She liked to see what was going on, liked to watch the dancing even if she didn’t ever want to dance herself, not like her sister who had Finn’s two left feet out on the dance floor most evenings. 

Clara had sometimes wondered if the two of them ought to have switched dates when that bit of knowledge became known, but Clara had kept her mouth shut. The truth was she actually liked Lisette. Well, Clara liked Lisette better than her younger sister, Ada, anyway. She didn't have any interest in setting up Ada and Isiah.

She didn't really want Finn continuing his dalliance with the girl either, but Clara had a feeling things between Ada and Finn weren’t a love for the ages anyhow. How could they be with the girl sharing a name with their older sister? Clara wasn't sure how the name alone didn't weird him out...kissing someone with the same name as their Ada? And surely, the girl wasn't marriage material. There was only room enough in the world for one Ada Shelby.

But Clara kept those thoughts all to herself. Things would work themselves out before it got that far, Clara was certain.

Not that it mattered anyway, because Clara could tell from the beginning that Isiah liked Lisette better, too, something Clara understood, even if she wished she didn’t. Lisette was smart and beautiful and different from the girls who usually flocked to the boys. She was a bit older, for one. A bit more mature. And if it wasn’t for the fact that Clara made a conscious decision of keeping a bit of distance between herself and whoever any of the boys were dating, especially in the beginning stages, she might have thought of her as the type of person she could be friends with. 

Even if it was clear that Lisette was the type of girl who was used to getting precisely what she wanted all the time. Some people might say Clara was the same—her family frequently alluded to the fact that she was spoiled in that way, but Clara knew how to negotiate. She knew how to read people, how to accommodate others. 

From what she’d seen, Lisette didn’t want to do that even if she knew how. 

Clara eyed the booth on the other side of the pub holding the group—Lisette, Ada, and a gaggle of their friends whose names Clara didn’t know—as she pushed through the crowds near the bar. It was clear they were all consoling Lisette in the wake of her breakup even as the rest of the pub had already moved on with their merrymaking, singing along and dancing to the familiar tune being sung from the makeshift stage at the back of the pub. 

Clara had a vision of herself crossing the pub and shooing the lot of them away, calling in her status as a Shelby to bar them from the pub for all eternity, but a bit of cool air blasted through the front door, raising bumps on her arms and her mind remembered where her body was taking her on instinct, trailing in Isiah’s wake though she was already a few minutes behind him by now. 

Clara shivered as she pushed out into the night, a curse slipping through her lips as the door swung shut behind her. She fumbled with the coats in her hand, realizing she should have slipped her own on before coming outside and she worked to slip her arm into it while keeping Isiah’s from touching the muddy ground. 

It wasn’t a particularly long walk to Isiah’s house, but it would feel longer in the cold. Clara had successfully sheathed one arm when she heard her name, the sound of it so quiet and small it nearly hurt to hear, almost as if it wasn’t certain in its conviction. Wasn’t certain in wanting to be known. 

Clara spun on her heel, steeling her face even as she remained tangled up in coats, one arm still bared to the elements. For a moment as she met Isiah’s eye, she wondered which one of them was trying harder to remain neutral, and she studied him as he took a silent drag from his cigarette, his breathing calm and deep, his countenance so unbothered, almost as if he and Lisette hadn’t just broken things off in front of everyone in the Garrison.  

“That for me?” Isiah asked, gesturing toward the overcoat she held carelessly bundled in her arm. 

He didn’t look cold, but Isiah was good at looking like things he wasn’t when he wanted to be—happy, unbothered, not cold. Even if Clara could see through it. 

She stepped forward to hand it over and Isiah easily slipped his arms inside, his cigarette parked between his lips for the duration.

“It’s fucking freezing out here,” Clara said as she shoved her arm into the jacket and fumbled with the buttons, securing them all the way to the top. 

Isiah shrugged and cleared the ash from the end of his cigarette. The truth was he was fucking freezing. His suit jacket still sat at Lisette’s table and he had realized his stupidity the moment he stepped outside. He had been too stubborn to go back inside, too stubborn even to roll down his shirt sleeves, and he tried to repress the shiver that skittered across his skin now. 

It was then that Clara realized something looked off, that the familiar black overcoat wasn’t sitting on Isiah’s frame quite right, and she disappeared without a word, returning a moment later with the forgotten suit jacket dangling from her fingers. 

Clara hadn’t said a word to the group of girls, simplying leaning around them and retrieving Isiah’s jacket with a tug before walking back out through the door. 

Isiah mumbled his thanks as Clara held the jacket out to him, the pair of them quiet as he stripped out of the overcoat and passed it back to her waiting arms so he could get situated, the burning cigarette parked between his lips once again.

“Where do you want to go?” Clara asked once Isiah pulled the dwindling cigarette away from his mouth. 

Isiah shook his head, clearing the ash. “It’s alright. You go back in.” 

They were meant to be celebrating Finn and Clara’s impending birthdays, just a few days out. It had been Finn’s idea to celebrate both the weekend before and after, and he’d convinced Clara, but she hadn’t really cared. She was much more looking forward to celebrating with her family. Much more looking forward to Ada and Karl coming in for a short visit. 

But this had been what Finn wanted, so she obliged. 

“I’m not going back in without you,” she said. “And I’m not standing out here all night either,” she continued, her words picking up speed and force and a certain sharpness that was so familiar to Isiah it was nearly a comfort, a fair bit better than him listening to the annoying voice inside his head. “And don’t tell me you want to be alone either because I know—”

“I don’t,” Isiah answered, and Clara’s face softened, the corners of her mouth falling a bit.

���I’m sorry, Is,” she said after swallowing down the lump forming in her throat. 

Isiah nodded. He knew she meant it, though he wasn’t sure what she was sorry about. The break up or the way it had happened or all of it or something else entirely. Clara could be odd like that, thinking about things that weren’t even on Isiah’s radar in a particular situation, but the intricacies of it didn’t matter, just that he knew it was sincere, could feel her concern more than he’d felt anything else lately, and it warmed him. 

Isiah didn’t even know what he felt about the break up. Some part of him was numb, barely feeling it, even though they’d made a bit of a scene doing it in public like that. Isiah could have made it an even bigger scene. He could’ve put on an even bigger show, but he had let it be. He knew it wasn’t worth it. What he wanted didn’t matter, not when Finn was still seeing the sister.

“So what do you want to do?” Clara asked, a question Isiah would swear he hadn’t heard in ages. Not a single Blinder cared what he wanted and though his father solicited his opinion often enough, Isiah hadn’t been home for a meal with the man in what felt like ages now, not since he’d been dating Lisette, at least. 

Lisette certainly hadn’t asked his opinions, used as she was to getting what she wanted. Isiah didn’t think it was malicious, just that it hadn’t occurred to her to consider someone else. Isiah had liked her well enough, and the sex had been good enough, that he’d convinced himself to go along with her whims. Some part of him was entranced by her and the ways he was so different from her that he’d been warmed to see her happy, even if it meant losing part of himself in her wants and her needs. 

Clara was patient, remaining quiet as she waited on Isiah’s answer, already reading his desire as he stubbed out his cigarette and pushed off the wall. 

“Let’s walk a bit.” 

Clara waited for him to take the first step, waited for him to determine their course even if some part of her knew where he wanted to go. They were quiet, the pair of them with hands stuffed in their pockets as they walked to the end of Garrison Lane, turning off onto Watery Lane and stopping before number 6. Clara fished her key out of her pocket and handed it off to Isiah as they approached the darkened door. 

Some part of Clara wondered if the key should have been Isiah’s anyway. He certainly spent more time in her childhood home than she did, but he wasn’t family—not blood, at least—and only her and her siblings and her aunt had keys to the family home. 

Isiah passed the key back to her as he pushed open the door, holding it open and allowing Clara to pass over the threshold first. Isiah latched the door behind them before wordlessly moving to the fireplace where he started on getting it lit in the near dark. 

Clara left him alone, navigating the first floor in the dark and returning a few minutes later with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey from John’s office in the shop. Isiah didn’t look away from the fire as she entered, his arms rested on his knees as he watched the flames. 

Clara set aside the bottle and glasses, retrieving Isiah’s suit jacket and overcoat from where he’d discarded them on the floor and settling them on a hook by the stairs. Clara grabbed the whiskey and glasses as she moved back across the room. She plopped down on the floor beside him and immediately poured out two hefty servings in each of the glasses. Isiah hooked a finger in one glass, quickly pulling it over and knocking back the contents and setting it back down before Clara could even stopper the bottle. 

Clara quickly moved to pour him another shot, but Isiah’s hand caught her wrist, his fingers gentle as he stopped her and guided the bottle from her hand, all the while his eyes remained on the fire, the warmth of it almost too hot on both of their faces. 

Clara took a slow sip of her whiskey, trying not to hiss at the fiery sting in her throat. She’d been sipping mild all night and she wasn’t sure what was causing the sudden heat in her cheeks—the liquor or the flame or the words swirling in her head and her heart. 

“I want to say something, but I don’t want you to get mad.” 

Isiah snorted. “That’s a promising start.” 

Clara sighed on the end of a deep breath, forcing herself to take another sip. She tried to keep the commentary on Isiah’s relationships to herself at this point. They’d had enough tiffs about it, that Clara had learned her opinion wasn’t wanted most times. Her reservations weren’t wanted. And unless Isiah solicited her, she didn’t share. And even then, what she shared was always tempered, restrained just a little. 

Isiah knew as much, but they’d both decided to let it be. It was better than arguing. 

“Well, what is it?” Isiah finally asked. He pulled his gaze away from the fire to look at her, watching for a moment as she focused on swirling the remaining whiskey in her glass. Isiah set his hand over the glass, and Clara set the glass aside before shifting her body so she sat facing him, the fire blazing against her back. 

“I just wonder…” she started, reaching out to take his hand, training her eyes on their intertwined fingers. “...I wonder if maybe it’s for the best, Is?” she said. “I know it may not feel that way now, but—”

Isiah was quiet even after Clara stopped herself, wondering if it was her place to say these things, wondering if it wasn’t better to keep these thoughts to herself after all. 

“Go ahead,” he said, squeezing her hand. “It’s not as if you’d be able to keep whatever it is to yourself anyhow, eh?” 

“I could,” Clara answered, her back straightening and her tone sharpening a bit in a defiance she was nearly powerless to control. “...if you wanted me to. If you didn’t want my…opinion.” 

As hard as it would be for her…especially when it came to Isiah, she could do it if that was what he wanted. If her silence would soothe him more than her words, she’d honor it—for now at least. 

It wouldn’t be too hard and it wasn’t as if her opinion, her guidance, was needed when it came to a subject matter with which Clara was so personally unfamiliar. She was no expert in love or relationships. Her brothers had always been quick to remind her of that fact whenever she’d tried to offer them some sort of guidance in regards to their love lives. 

Isiah stayed quiet, urging her to continue only with his eyes and the fact that he hadn’t pulled his hand away. Clara let both of their hands settle on her lap and Isiah felt the gentle twist of his pinky ring as she twisted it, barely aware of the nervous habit. 

Isiah had been tempted to test out Clara’s assertion, to make her squirm while trying to keep the words on the tip of her tongue, but not only did Isiah not believe in her ability to keep her mouth shut longer than a few minutes, but he found himself almost yearning to hear her thoughts, desperate to know if his best friend would end the sentence the same way he would. 

“I just…” she started, still subtly fidgeting with Isiah’s ring until she realized what she was doing and she let his hand go, allowing him to pull it back to his own lap. “You just haven’t seemed much like yourself. You haven’t seemed very…” Clara sorted through the words, trying to decide what precisely she meant and what she could say that might sting the least. 

She wanted to say that he hadn’t seemed particularly happy, even if that declaration felt heavy in her mouth. She wanted to say that she hadn’t seen his cheeky grin in a while. That she hadn’t heard him laugh or seen him excited. She wanted to say that they hadn’t had a dance in ages. And that she didn’t have a clue what he was reading lately, or if he was reading anything at all. It wasn’t that Isiah had seemed wholly unhappy, exactly. Just that he was a bit muted, like a subdued version of himself. A shadow of the person she knew. Neutral and opinionless and far too timid.

“Happy?” Isiah finally suggested, as if he knew—or hoped—that it was the word on the tip of Clara’s tongue. 

“Well, yeah,” Clara sighed. She knew that relationships required compromise. She knew that people had to be a bit malleable in the process of two people coming together, but something had seemed different this time, almost as if Isiah had let a bit of himself go in order to accommodate everything Lisette was. 

Isiah snorted softly and reached out for Clara’s glass, downing the small bit of whiskey left in her glass. “I wasn’t sure anyone noticed.”

“Of course I noticed.” Clara studied Isiah’s face, frowning at the pain etched there in his features. “I just…I didn’t want to stick my nose in. It wasn’t my place.”

Clara had been told time and time again by those in her life to not worry about this or that…to focus on her own responsibilities…to stay out of business not pertaining to her. It seemed to only bring trouble when she did otherwise.

“Since when do you endeavor to keep your nose out of my business?” he asked. “Seems to me you decided my business was as good as yours way back in 1915.”

Isiah’s lips pulled into something resembling a smile, but Clara could tell he was forcing it. 

“I thought that’s what you wanted.” 

Isiah shook his head. “Since when does it matter what I want?” 

“It’s always mattered,” Clara answered. “And you shouldn’t have to change yourself or compromise or bend over backwards to get what you want, Is. It should be equal. A partnership” He didn’t say anything, didn’t fight or interrupt, so Clara continued. “Someday, someone is going to come along and she’ll be everything you want and you—just as you are—will be what she wants, and sometimes it will be work and it won’t always be easy, but it’ll be work you want to do. It’ll be work you couldn’t imagine not doing, and when it happens, you’ll understand why it never worked out with anyone else because it’ll just make sense. And it’ll feel different. Natural. Right.” 

Isiah was still quiet, listening to Clara as if she was telling him a story, as if she was telling them both a story that they both hoped wasn’t just a fairy tale.

“And when it happens, you’ll be glad Lisette cut you lose now,” she added. “Even if it feels like shit just now.” 

 Clara took a deep breath, preparing herself for Isiah’s response—that she was naive and silly. That she didn’t know anything of any value when it came to love or life. That she read far too many romance novels. Clara knew all of that wouldn’t be out of line. It was a little true that she didn’t have much firsthand experience and that she had read a lot of books, but Isiah didn’t say any of that. He didn’t say anything, simply turning his gaze back to the fire.  

Clara watched Isiah’s adam’s apple bob, a distinct mist shimmering in his eye which Isiah willed himself to control. He could’ve cried in front of Clara. Isiah knew that, but he didn’t want to, even if the words had resonated enough that something ached deep in his chest. 

Clara could feel it, almost as if the pain echoed in her own heart. As his silence stretched on, Clara found herself testing out the words to apologize in her head. She was preparing herself to say them outloud when Isiah let out a breath and rose from the floor.

Isiah stepped across the room, readying the gramophone. Slow songs weren’t what they usually listened to, but the tune was familiar, with a melody she knew by heart. 

Isiah held a hand down to Clara. “You want to dance?”

“Do you want to?” she countered, looking up at him. 

“I want to dance with you,” he said, grabbing Clara’s hand and pulling her to her feet. “Haven’t had a decent dance partner in months.” 

Clara quickly fell into step, letting Isiah lead as they twirled around the room, sidestepping the bottle and glasses they’d left on the floor. Isiah let his instincts take over as his mind worked through Clara’s words once again, part of him hoping beyond hope that they were true. 

That someday someone would come along.

That it would be work, but the work would be worth doing.

That it would be different—natural and right. 

They would be partners. Equals. 

And it would be instinctive. 

As easy as dancing along to a familiar tune.

—

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

[good-beanswrites]

sorryf im being mentally ill about hallucination event right now SO in the LCSyS au, would there be something like it :o? Like after all of it's over or something, how crazy would it be if Jackalope tried to get them all together just to do one last concert?

Never apologize for being mentally ill about Milgram content 😌👍 We are all in it together 😔👍I'm combining this answer with a reply to @kikithedeceiver (and spiraling out of control from both)

I've had a lot of ideas about the project being public in LCSyS, but was holding off including it for few reasons – the audience’s voices would conflict with Es as their own character. Knowing the public was watching would change the way the prisoners acted (even if they thought they were acting natural). It’s a long time that the families would have to deal with the public knowing about their loved one’s almost-crime. I also like the idea of this au ending with the prisoners returning to very normal lives. 

Buuuuut it is such a fun idea, and popularity seems an essential part of an actors au. So, I’m not naming this as canon, but here’s a pitch if you liked that idea and wanted to run with it :3

The team doesn’t tell the participants that they’ve been recording/collecting certain material to release. If a translation is left out by accident, the prisoners just assume it’s for a foreign team member – they have no idea how close/far Milgram reaches. 

The third trial begins. The prisoners are inside the prison, and on the final stretch of the trials. On the outside, Jackalope contacts families for signatures to release the material publicly. The team thought about censoring names and things, but seeing current fans’ investigation skills, they knew it was a matter of time before they put pieces together anyway. This may be super illegal but for the sake of the story I’ll say that family consent is enough lmao.

Some of them are easy to convince to sign off on everything, since it can raise awareness for their loved one’s struggles. Muu’s family takes the longest, as it would risk ruining their reputation. (They’re only swayed because it truly is a great opportunity to show off Muu’s talents for those modeling scouts, and she didn’t actually kill anyone in the end.) Kazui’s family refuses to release his info, but Hinako uses sway with her marital status to sign off instead (I pictured things happening fast enough where she hasn’t gotten an official divorce yet). Hinako still struggles with what he did, but she thinks he’s doing something incredibly brave now. I’m not 100% sure what’s going through Amane’s father’s mind, but if the murder really was in line with the cult’s beliefs, maybe he believes that Amane will be be a shining representation of their religion. He wants to show her off as their little golden child.

The experiment is published in its current form: music videos, voice dramas, timeline conversations, interrogation questions, etc. It’s brought to more than just science/psychology circles, though. Jackalope has no shame in marketing it as entertainment, hence the stockholders mentioned. He assures the sociologists that this will be a major breakthrough for them. He tells music labels he's got the new hit thing for them. He leans into the excitement of releases and merchandise in the hopes of gaining attention for the experiment. Needless to say, it works. Even though the audience has no sway over Es’ decisions, they are encouraged to make decisions for themselves on what they would judge each prisoner. There’s the same types of theory/analysis/discourse posts passed around. 

When the trials end, the prisoners are released into the world to find they’re famous. Instead of trudging back to their lives feeling that society hates them, they find tons of adoring fans telling them how much they understand and forgive them. Even if their final verdict was guilty, they have hundreds of voices assuring them that they are loved. That they are not alone. This attention really helps Haruka, Amane, (and maybe Es) who don’t have a good home to go back to. Not only can they reenter society, they are welcomed with open arms. They are looked after and showered in love. Some of the adults realize they want to use this popularity to lead the charge of social change. They create/support projects meant to help people who are facing their struggles.

And of course, there’s the other type of fame as well. Yuno loves answering fanmail and turning her karaoke hobby into a music career. Kazui goes from a life of feeling rejected and disgusting to scrolling through comments upon comments of men oogling him. Mahiru gets offers from fashion magazines and blogs to write up sections about self-love. Amane gets to live out her dream of being a performer, hinted at in her first two mvs. Fuuta is flustered by all the positive attention his appearance/voice is getting. Mikoto… well, I just wish him luck when he opens tiktok…

Which brings us to the live event! The prisoners have tried to keep in touch while adjusting to their new lives as almost-murderers-turned-idols. They’re amazed at how well-recieved the trial songs were. Those were some of their most personal, shameful secrets, and people relate to them? People love singing them?? People want a concert featuring them??? Jackalope encourages them to get together for one last encore. Some are thrilled with the opportunity, others are still nervous about the whole thing. Some think it’s in poor taste, that Jackalope is milking them for entertainment. But with a bit of conversing amongst themselves, they realize they all want a chance to sing like that again, and see each other in one place again. (It’s ironic because in my head Mahiru is the one to convince everyone to come ;--;) 

It’s strange putting on the uniforms again. Es is unsure about putting on their guard’s cloak. But the minute they stop onstage, they’re met with wild applause. They can sing their fears and dreams to a huge crowd and see in real time how it’s reaching others. They hear the cheers after each song. They hear that it’s streamed all over the world. All of them have an absolute blast, and pour their heart and soul into their performances.

[softguarnere]

I am also throwing 56) a warm palm and a flannel shirt from the paired prompts at you, perhaps Zenie?

Andy! Thank you for once again giving me a fun prompt to write during my study breaks 😌💖

Since I wrote some sister dynamics for the Bridgerton OCs the other day, here's some McGlamery family dynamics since I wish Zenie and her brother had gotten more interactions in laglam

“You know, when you said you were moving to California, I had pictured you living in some sort of tropical paradise,” Matthew says, wrapping his jacket tighter around him as he crosses his arms. “I’d have been more sympathetic if I knew you were freezing your ass off – just on the other side of the country.” 

“Careful, Matthew.” Zenie glances at the young girl who walks between them, whose blue eyes are wide as she suddenly gazes up at her father. “I think you’ll owe Usdi Zee a candybar for letting that word slip.” 

Matthew’s eyes dart to his daughter, and there’s a flicker of warmth behind them. “Yeah, well, I’ll do her one better and buy her a cup of hot chocolate so that she won’t freeze to death out here.”

If Little Zenie – Zee Jr., Mini Zenie . . . The niece who shares her name has received a plethora of nicknames to distinguish between the two of them – is listening, she politely doesn’t acknowledge her father’s words. Lord knows that if she is, she’ll hold him to it. 

“I don’t know how you do it, Zee.” Matthew’s eyes are never able to hide any of his emotions, and now they’re both curious and concerned as he watches his youngest sister. 

Zenie shrugs. “It’s not so bad out here.” 

Matthew frowns. “You know what I mean.” 

She would have to be totally inept if she didn’t. Matthew injured his leg and was out of the war well before Bastogne was even a thought in anyone's minds, back when it was just a little known place on some maps that most people would never look at. He didn’t spend a frozen Christmas being shelled and shot at in foxholes. 

Zenie frowns in a way that mirrors her brother’s. She squeezes Usdi Zee’s hand as they walk, focusing on the warmth of the little palm in hers, the way heat pipes out of the flannel sleeve of her niece’s shirt like a chimney, keeping her warm. She’ll never have to know cold. Not the type that Zenie has known. Not if she can help it. 

“I know.” Zenie forces herself to smile. “But that’s the thing – you just keep doing it.”

They walk in silence for a few beats, the only sound between the three of them those of their footsteps on the sidewalk, accompanied by the sounds of city life stirring to life for the morning all around them. 

“Do you ever get used to it?” Matthew asks. 

Part of Zenie is tempted to laugh. She used to think that she’d never get used to things when she got out of the army. Which isn’t a fair thing to say, considering that the war ended only a few years ago. But now . . .

She and Bill and Babe all still call each other almost every day, sometimes not even really having anything to say, but just wanting to hear each other’s voices. Shifty doesn’t miss hunting as much as Zenie thought he would – especially big game. There are still sleepless nights where she stares at the ceiling and feels as hollow as a foxhole. But these changes don’t feel so obvious, so in her face, anymore.

Zenie finally meets her brother’s eye again. “I’ll get back to you on that one.” 

Send me a prompt and an OC, and I'll write a lil fic!

[bonewyvern]

luke thompson, the man that you are, serving the cunt-ry🫡

but unlike my twt post this doesn’t have a typo😭

electricmoose and i saw the second showing of LLL (friday, april 12) and OMGGGG the best show ever like 10/10 recommend. it was so upbeat and lively and all around felt like time was flying by. i also did not know ANYTHING about the play/original story shakespeare wrote, but the way it’s set out, i walked away completely understanding what happened. i also really really REALLY loved luke in it, like he characterized berowne so well. and even in the scenes where he wasn’t talking but in it, he still carried himself with energy that made me turn my attention to him or maybe i’m just down bad but whatever. also was NOT expecting him to come out from the sides of the theater, and we sat in the stalls next to the aisle, so to start the show and he strides on in was a pleasant surprise☺️

and after the show, we RAN🏃🏻💨to the stage door bc we were like “what are the odds he comes out. and if the odds are high (which we felt they were) we could potentially see him. and if not, at least we tried.” and so we were nervous if there was going to be a crowd, so we very quickly sped walked to the stage door, and there were already the barricades up (those pole and rope thingies) and we were like 🤔. we waited around for about 10 minutes, and then BAM we glimpsed him through the windows that led from inside to out. and we were told a couple minutes beforehand he isn’t allowed to take selfies can could only sign RSC merch (so HIGHLY recommend getting the £6 program so he can sign it!!). and he started with the first person in line, then moved to on to me and electricmoose bc we were second and third. and i held out my program cover up bc i’m used to the broadway playbills being signed on the cover. but he took it and was like “do you want me to sign under my name?” and i was like “oh sure! i’m so sorry, i don’t know where you are😭 (IT WAS DIM AND I WAS FREAKING OUT)”. and i don’t know what happened but he ended up flipping to his page with his headshot and bio, and the first thing out of my mouth was “really nice picture!” and he smiled and was like, “oh really? thanks! my mum hates it” and i laughed while he signed the program. HE WAS SOOOO SWEET like going into it we were nervous he was going to be sign-and-go kinda type, but he totally defied our expectations and really took the time to chat at least 30 seconds per person.

pic rundowns

1. signing the first person’s program

2. after he signed ours, he moved on but realized he had a sharpie he could’ve used and so ran back to get it and i caught him mid-run😭

3. moved onto the signing other ppl’s programs

4. electricmoose’s REALLY shaky hands

5. MY LONG EXPOSURE WAS TURNED ON WHILE HE WAS WALKING AWAY TO LEAVE😭

6. signed program in front of the theater

SPOILERS FOR THE SHOW BC I THINK IT’S SO FUNNY!! NOT IN ORDER!!!

1. HE ATE PAPER???!!!!!! low key still thinking about it to this day bc like his mouth was full, but by the end of the scene, he was talking like normal

2. I WANT IT THAT WAY WAS HILARIOUSSSSSS. like the curtain was down and i didn’t know what i was expecting, but all of them in knight gear (??) SINGING?! that was NOT on my bingo card😭 listening, i heard a high harmony and low key i like to believe that was luke’s doing

3. when he started unbottoning his shirt i was like “OH, we’re doing this??” AND THEN HE UNDID AND TOOK OFF HIS PANTS TOO AND I WAS LIKE “WHATS GOING ONNNNNNN”

4. him climbing the tree to eavesdrop and basically that entire scene had me DYINGGGGGGGG

5. the women SLAYED and i absolutely love all of them😌

[juniperss]

I love the little moodboard you made Sunny 😭 I'm so ready for more fics / HCs about her!

THANK YOUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!! I had a ton of fun putting it together along with her playlist (that’s always gonna be getting songs added to it lol)

I’ve got a few new headcanons that @a-libra-writes and I chatted about; lemme share some 😌

Me: i'm not taking requests so I can make sure I don't get burned out

also me: posts more headcanons

More Sunshine Headcanons!

Sunshine doesn’t drink often and she doesn’t smoke. She’s not a fan of the way beer tastes so she seldom drinks more than a few sips when she's out with her friends. She’d prefer a mixed drink but living in Tulsa doesn’t leave many options. As for smoking she just doesn’t understand the appeal. After the deaths of her parents she kept imagining the accident involving fire and smoke, so she tries to avoid the smell of smoke as much as possible. She gets on Ponyboy’s ass about how much he smokes lmao

Sunny’s name was inspired by the song “Keeping on the Sunny Side”, an old country classic. There’s so many great versions of it but my two favorites are this one and this one!

She calls all the Gang by their full names when she gets upset or annoyed, even her brothers. She rarely uses Johnny’s full name or Darry’s if that tells you anything at all about their relationships, and Dallas is hardly ever Dally to her. 

Dallas calls her by a myriad of wrong names to mess with her. Sandy, Sammy, Susie, etc. She retaliates with Houston, Austen, etc. But his most common nickname for her is Squeaks and no one else is allowed to call her that. She earned it one night when he was crashing on the couch and she didn’t know he was in the house, he was just lurking in the dark on the sofa and she squeaked so loud. He gets smacked whenever he calls her that.

She’s got the amazing Curtis hair and it’s probably one of her biggest sources of pride in terms of her appearance! Her mom loved to brush and braid it in the evenings. When her parents passed, she couldn’t bring herself to take care of her hair and it got really tangled and the Boys didn’t know what to do to help. Soda eventually sat her down in the bathroom and started brushing it a bit each day and Darry asked Two Bit to help (thank god someone else has sisters). Ponyboy definitely asked if they could just grease her hair and call it good lmao. 

Sunshine is closest to Darry and has been since she was a baby. Their parents were always big on teaching the kids to look out for another, but Darry (and the others) took it really seriously once they had a little sister. He was always who Sunny went to when she fell off her bike or got scared by the thunderstorms. 

The Curtis Brothers love to hear Sunshine laugh. She has a couple types of laughs: the silent and full body one that makes her lean sideways or forward with the sheer force of it, the loud and almost shrill laugh that comes out when she’s roughhousing with the Gang or her brothers, and the laugh so hard she snorts. All three are contagious and if you can hear and/or see her laughing AND NOT laugh or at least smile, I’m amazed by you. 

She was a pretty happy baby and no one remembers her crying very often unless she was sick or very tired. Even then she was more fussy than anything and if someone held her, she’d settle down. 

When she was smaller Darry used to swing her over his shoulder and run around while she was dangling upside down until she was laughing so hard Mrs. Curtis made him stop because she thought Sunshine was gonna be sick. He doesn’t do this much anymore cause she’s too big so instead he’ll wrap both arms around her and spin in a circle, practically lifting her off the ground.