#electric flower group

[dcxdpdabbles]

For Danny, gravity is a suggestion, but when he's human he prefers to feel ground under his feet while he's thinking. This leads to him often not realising he's started walking on the wall or ceiling when he's lost in thought or otherwise distracted.

Tim's definitely normal human friend Danny, pacing on the ceiling during his third visit at Wayne manor: [ranting about something, probably defending his love of weird flavour combo milkshakes]

The Batfam, silently debating how they're gonna break it to Danny that he's a meta: ........

Tim's eyes follow Danny as he starts pacing around the table, his homework abandoned on the table. His voice is becoming sharper, and his words are strung together more as he continues. He noticed that he became less aware of his surroundings when his friend started going on his rants.

Watching Danny's body language become slightly less human was fascinating. It started with his eyes—if Danny felt angry, they would glow green. Tim always knew when to cut back on his teasing whenever he saw the flash of green, no matter how brief the green was.

When Danny rants about something that upsets or makes him sad, his voice gains a particular echo. It is almost as if he is slowly walking into a cave.

There were times when Danny got excited or happy; his hair would start to puff up slightly. This reminded Tim of when he would rub a balloon on his hair to study the positive and negative charges.

Danny's hair didn't flout straight up, but it was electric enough to be noticeable if you paid enough attention.

It was as if his emotions affected his physical form like a mood ring. Tim could always tell what Danny felt by watching for the little effects.

All these little things were easy to hide. Most people noticed less than Tim did, but there was one little quirk Danny did that was rather hard to miss.

"What if we talked about the effect of well-lit street lights on crime rates?" Danny asked, striding up to a wall and casually pacing on it. He continued to think out loud, with his eyes closed, as he made loops on the ceiling. Tim needed to pay more attention to the subject of their presentation, but he was somewhat distracted by how Danny's hair and shirt defied gravity.

They stayed perfectly in place as if his friend were still on the ground and not upside down. Tim wondered if his powers were less flying and more gravity-shifting.

It would also explain his lower degree of super strength if he could manipulate gravity. (Tim didn't care what Danny claimed in gym class. No regular human could lift two punching bags like nothing, especially for something as casual as cleaning up)

Or maybe he was able to move in a fifth direction. From his perspective, while Tim was stuck in 3D, Danny could move in the fourth and walk on the ground. It would explain why he didn't notice he had stepped on the walls or ceiling. To Danny, he never left the floor.

"No, that wouldn't work," Danny mutters, making loops around the chandelier. "What if we...but then that would mean...."

Tim couldn't make out most of his words, but that was fine. Danny also tended to mutter under his breath when he was deep in thought.

He cranks his neck back, eyes tracing the way Danny seemed to strut around as if he was out for a walk on a nice sunny day in the park. Carefully, making sure Danny was too distracted by his thoughts, Tim aimed his camera phone at him.

He takes a few photos and then opens the family group chat.

Tim: I need advice on gently telling a friend something that may change our friendship. I've tried to say it to him before but he doesn't seem to get it.

Jason: buy him some flowers and write him a poem. He'll love it.

Steph: That's terrible advice, Jay. No one does that anymore

Jason: No one has class anymore, you mean. Besides, boys deserve to be romanced, too.

Dick: Just tell him how you feel, Tim! Be direct and make sure you use the words "I like you romanticly." Sometimes people don't understand you're asking them out.

Damian: Do not bother me with your failed courtships.

Duke: Maybe don't go as far as Jay said, but Dick's right. You have to say, "Go on a date with me" or something.

Steph: Try the bend and snap! It's Elle Woods-approved!

Tim: No, that's not what this is about. I need help telling Danny he might be a metahuman with Superman-level Power.

There is a long pause before his phone vibrates again.

Damian: I beg your finest pardon?

Bruce is typing.....

Tim: He's friendly! He just has yet to notice that what he does isn't regular.

Jason: Wait, isn't Danny that kid we saw you at the ice ring with? The one that snuck up on Cass by accident?

Tim: Yes

Multiple people are typing.....

Tim briefly glances up to see what Danny is up to, and he is surprised that Frost has started developing in his footsteps. That's certainly new. He attached the photos to the chat, sending them off as Danny slowly floated back down.

He watches as his friend flips horizontally in mid-air so that he's standing upright when he lands. His hair is starting to puff up again, so he is not surprised when Danny's eyes snap open with a gleeful glint in them.

"I figured it out, Tim!"

"That's great," Tim tells him with a smile as Danny eagerly returns to his seat. He is babbling about the solution to their government class and how he knows he can get their proposed bill passed with the correct narrative.

Tim watches frost develop around his pencil and chair. Fascinating. Does that mean excitement? He almost forgets about the family group chat while attempting to figure out what emotion Danny is experiencing to connect to frost that he missed a few messages.

Bruce: Tim, where are you?

Bruce: he made Cass jump because she didn't hear or see him coming. That's worrisome.

Bruce: He could be dangerous

Bruce: Where are you

Bruce: Tim, answer me

Bruce: Timothy Jackson Drake, answer the phone right now

Dick: Oooooohhhh middle name

Damian: They are in the left-wing dining room, Father. I already have a visual on them.

Damian sent a photo of two teenage boys sitting at a table, bending over to look at a book together. Papers and pencils are scattered around the stranger while Tim's trusted laptop is in front of his part.

Bruce: Good. Keep them in sight at all times and report any suspicious behavior.

Damian: Naturally.

Steph: No DNA test is needed

Duke: Literally.

Cass: I am confused. I thought we all knew Tim's boyfriend was not human?

Jason: We did not, in fact, know that Cass.

Cass: It is obvious by the way he moves that Danny is not a meta-human. He is close to one, but he moves like a different being. He reminds me of Captain Marvel.

Multiple people are typing......

[togglesbloggle]

For the Reverse Unpopular Opinion meme, Lamarckism!

(This is an excellent ask.)

Lamarck got done a bit dirty by the textbooks, as one so often is. He's billed as the guy who articulated an evolutionary theory of inherited characteristics, inevitably set up as an opponent made of straw for Darwin to knock down. The example I recall my own teachers using in grade school was the idea that a giraffe would strain to reach the highest branches of a tree, and as a result, its offspring would be born with slightly longer necks. Ha-ha-ha, isn't-that-silly, isn't natural selection so much more sensible?

But the thing is, this wasn't his idea, not even close. People have been running with ideas like that since antiquity at least. What Lamarck did was to systematize that claim, in the context of a wider and much more interesting theory.

Lamarck was born in to an era where natural philosophy was slowly giving way to Baconian science in the modern sense- that strange, eighteenth century, the one caught in an uneasy tension between Newton the alchemist and Darwin the naturalist. This is the century of Ben Franklin and his key and his kite, and the awed discovery that this "electricity" business was somehow involved in living organisms- the discovery that paved the way for Shelley's Frankenstein. This was the era when alchemy was fighting its last desperate battles with chemistry, when the division between 'organic' and 'inorganic' chemistry was fundamental- the first synthesis of organic molecules in the laboratory wouldn't occur until 1828, the year before Lamarck's death. We do not have atoms, not yet. Mendel and genetics are still more than a century away; we won't even have cells for another half-century or more.

Lamarck stepped in to that strange moment. I don't think he was a bold revolutionary, really, or had much interest in being one. He was profoundly interested in the structure and relationships between species, and when we're not using him as a punching bag in grade schools, some people manage to remember that he was a banging good taxonomist, and made real progress in the classification of invertebrates. He started life believing in the total immutability of species, but later was convinced that evolution really was occurring- not because somebody taught him in the classroom, or because it was the accepted wisdom of the time, but through deep, continued exposure to nature itself. He was convinced by the evidence of his senses.

(Mostly snails.)

His problem was complexity. When he'd been working as a botanist, he had this neat little idea to order organisms by complexity, starting with the grubbiest, saddest little seaweed or fern, up through lovely flowering plants. This was not an evolutionary theory, just an organizing structure; essentially, just a sort of museum display. But when he was asked to do the same thing with invertebrates, he realized rather quickly that this task had problems. A linear sorting from simple to complex seemed embarrassingly artificial, because it elided too many different kinds of complexity, and ignored obvious similarities and shared characteristics.

When he went back to the drawing board, he found better organizing schema; you'd recognize them today. There were hierarchies, nested identities. Simple forms with only basic, shared anatomical patterns, each functioning as a sort of superset implying more complex groups within it, defined additively by the addition of new organs or structures in the body. He'd made a taxonomic tree.

Even more shockingly, he realized something deep and true in what he was looking at: this wasn't just an abstract mapping of invertebrates to a conceptual diagram of their structures. This was a map in time. Complexities in invertebrates- in all organisms!- must have been accumulating in simpler forms, such that the most complicated organisms were also the youngest.

This is the essential revolution of Lamarckian evolution, not the inherited characteristics thing. His theory, in its full accounting, is actually quite elaborate. Summarized slightly less badly than it is in your grade school classroom (though still pretty badly, I'm by no means an expert on this stuff), it looks something like this:

As we all know, animals and plants are sometimes generated ex nihilo in different places, like maggots spontaneously appearing in middens. However, the spontaneous generation of life is much weaker than we have supposed; it can only result in the most basic, simple organisms (e.g. polyps). All the dizzying complexity we see in the world around us must have happened iteratively, in a sequence over time that operated on inheritance between one organism and its descendants.

As we all know, living things are dynamic in relation to inorganic matter, and this vital power includes an occasional tendency to gain in complexity. However, this tendency is not a spiritual or supernatural effect; it's a function of natural, material processes working over time. Probably this has something to do with fluids such as 'heat' and 'electricity' which are known to concentrate in living tissues. When features appear spontaneously in an organism, that should be understood as an intrinsic propensity of the organism itself, rather than being caused by the environment or by a divine entity. There is a specific, definite, and historically contingent pattern in which new features can appear in existing organisms.

As we all know, using different tissue groups more causes them to be expressed more in your descendants, and disuse weakens them in the same way. However, this is not a major feature in the development of new organic complexity, since it could only move 'laterally' on the complexity ladder and will never create new organs or tissue groups. At most, you might see lineages move from ape-like to human-like or vice versa, or between different types of birds or something; it's an adaptive tendency that helps organisms thrive in different environments. In species will less sophisticated neural systems, this will be even less flexible, because they can't supplement it with willpower the way that complex vertebrates can.

Lamarck isn't messing around here; this is a real, genuinely interesting model of the world. And what I think I'm prepared to argue here is that Lamarck's biggest errors aren't his. He has his own blind spots and mistakes, certainly. The focus on complexity is... fraught, at a minimum. But again and again, what really bites him in the ass is just his failure to break with his inherited assumptions enough. The parts of this that are actually Lamarckian, that is, are the ideas of Lamarck, are very clearly groping towards a recognizable kind of proto-evolutionary theory.

What makes Lamarck a punching bag in grade-school classes today is the same thing that made it interesting; it's that it was the best and most scientific explanation of biological complexity available at the time. It was the theory to beat, the one that had edged out all the other competitors and emerged as the most useful framework of the era. And precisely none of that complexity makes it in to our textbooks; they use "Lamarckianism" to refer to arguments made by freaking Aristotle, and which Lamarck himself accepted but de-emphasized as subordinate processes. What's even worse, Darwin didn't reject this mechanism either. Darwin was totally on board with the idea as a possible adaptive tendency; he just didn't particularly need it for his theory.

Lamarck had nothing. Not genetics, not chromosomes, not cells, not atomic theory. Geology was a hot new thing! Heat was a liquid! What Lamarck had was snails. And on the basis of snails, Lamarck deduced a profound theory of complexity emerging over time, of the biosphere as a(n al)chemical process rather than a divine pageant, of gradual adaptation punctuated by rapid innovation. That's incredible.

There's a lot of falsehood in the Lamarckian theory of evolution, and it never managed to entirely throw off the sloppy magical thinking of what came before. But his achievement was to approach biology and taxonomy with a profound scientific curiosity, and to improve and clarify our thinking about those subjects so dramatically that a theory of biology could finally, triumphantly, be proven wrong. Lamarck is falsifiable. That is a victory of the highest order.

[51voices]

Hidden Strength

Kinkvember Day 7: Femdom/Immobilized

Kiss Of Life Han Julie x Male reader

The sun began its slow descent, casting a golden hue through the tall, narrow windows of Julie's dormitory, and you could feel the enchantment in the air. The light filled the small room with warmth, turning it into a sanctuary as beams of sun danced like whispers across the furnishings. Each detail glowed in this soft, waning light—the small, well-worn books stacked haphazardly on the desk, the laundry basket in the corner that had long since needed attention, and the plush throw blanket draped lazily over the back of a chair. Dust motes floated serenely through the light, resembling tiny stars suspended in a gentle, magical glow.

Julie stood near the entrance, carefully adjusting a small vase of fresh flowers she had picked from a nearby store earlier that morning. The vibrant yellows of daisies and deep purples of tulips stood out against the rustic wood of the console table. Each petal seemed to tell its own story of the sunlit day that had just passed, stories that matched the bubbling thrill that flickered in her eyes. Tonight was the night she had been looking forward to—an evening she had imagined over and over in her mind, a night where you, the one who stirred her soul in ways words couldn’t capture, would finally meet her friends. She’d run countless scenarios in her head about how this meeting would go, spinning fantasies and rehearsing introductions. But now, here in the warmth of her room, those fantasies felt tangible, almost alive, breathing alongside her anticipation.

The dorm itself mirrored Julie’s emotions: cozy, inviting, and filled with a subtle lavender fragrance that floated through the room, calming her nerves. Soft light spilled from the delicate table lamps, blending with the gentle twinkle of string lights draped across her ceiling, casting an intimate glow over everything. It was the sort of ambiance that drew you in, evoking memories of childhood sleepovers, whispered secrets, and moments when bonds seemed to deepen in the flicker of a candle’s flame.

Then, the familiar creak of the door broke through her thoughts, and she turned, her breath catching as you stepped inside. For a moment, her eyes softened, her gaze locking with yours as a warm smile blossomed on her lips. It was as if the entire room shifted to acknowledge your presence, grounding her swirling thoughts and calming the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat. You, with your quiet confidence and easy presence, seemed to blend into the warmth of her carefully crafted haven as if you belonged there.

Julie moved towards you, her smile widening as she leaned in to press a gentle kiss on your cheek—a gesture both tender and electric, filled with the quiet intimacy of everything unspoken between you. Her fingers lingered against your shoulder for a moment, and you could sense the pride in her eyes as she stepped back, letting you take in the room. A hint of curiosity danced in your gaze as you absorbed the cozy details, the careful touches that revealed so much of who Julie was.

“Come on,” she said softly, her voice steady, colored with the warmth of belonging and a spark of excitement she could barely contain. "They are all dying to meet you." The pride in her tone was unmistakable, as if she was welcoming you into a part of herself she rarely shared, inviting you deeper into her world.

As you walked with Julie toward the living room, laughter and lively voices spilled over from the trio who formed the heart of her group—Haneul, Belle, and Natty—lounging comfortably on an oversized sectional. The warmth of their camaraderie seemed to fill the entire space, and you could feel how much they meant to Julie; they weren’t just friends—they were chosen family, each one a vital thread woven into the fabric of her life. When they spotted you and Julie approaching, their faces lit up with joy, eyes twinkling with friendliness and a touch of curiosity. Julie’s hand rested lightly on your arm, guiding you forward, as if anchoring you to this moment she had longed to share.

As you got closer, you could hear snippets of their playful banter; Haneul animatedly recounted a missed class, waving her hands in exaggerated gestures, while Belle teased her with a mock scolding. Natty, sprawled out on the couch, chimed in with an enthusiastic nod, her laughter bubbling up and pulling everyone else along with it. You felt yourself relax, letting your natural charm surface as you joined in the conversation, tossing in a few witty comments that sparked more laughter. The group responded easily, welcoming you as if you’d always been a part of their tight-knit circle.

Julie stepped back a bit, watching the scene unfold with a quiet sense of pride blossoming in her chest. For her, this was more than just an evening with friends—it was a bridge between her worlds, a blending of the people she cherished most. And as laughter and light-hearted teasing filled the room, she couldn’t help but feel that this gathering marked the beginning of something beautiful.

“I can’t believe it took you this long to bring your boyfriend over—he’s so fun to be around!” Haneul teased, a mischievous grin lighting up her face as she nudged Julie playfully with her elbow. Her words carried a lighthearted energy that filled the dimly lit room, sparking another round of laughter. Julie chuckled, brushing off the teasing with a casual wave of her hand, her cheeks faintly flushed. “Yeah, it was about time,” she replied, her voice warm with both pride and affection.

The evening continued to unfold like the pages of a captivating novel, each conversation flowing effortlessly, every laugh weaving the group closer together. You found yourself laughing deeply, the kind of genuine laughter that only emerges in moments of pure connection. It was clear you belonged here, that your presence added something vibrant to their bond.

Natty, relaxed in the comfort of the shared dorm, had chosen a loose shirt, unconcerned about needing a bra. The soft fabric draped casually over her, shifting with her movements, adding an effortless allure. Her confidence and natural grace were palpable, a quiet charisma that drew people in without her even trying.

But as the night wore on, Julie’s smile wavered just slightly as she watched you talking animatedly with Natty. Natty, with her easy charm and relaxed demeanor, was practically family to Julie—a friend who had stood by her through secrets, laughter, and tears. Julie rarely felt anything other than complete trust in her. Yet tonight, a flicker of jealousy stirred within her as she noticed your gaze linger just a fraction too long on Natty’s chest, where the loose shirt dipped slightly, hinting at more than she could ignore.

It was barely a moment—a fleeting look, subtle enough that anyone else might have missed it. But for Julie, it was enough to send an unsettling ripple through her composure. Her stomach tightened as the thought took root, her mind spinning despite her efforts to shake it off. It wasn’t as though you’d crossed any lines; you were simply being your warm, charismatic self, engaging and open as always. Yet, that fleeting glance tapped into insecurities she thought she had buried, doubts lingering like shadows even amid her trust in both you and Natty.

Julie took a steadying breath, trying to refocus as she observed the scene, almost as if from a distance. Within her, a delicate balance of pride and vulnerability settled—a quiet mix of loyalty and uncertainty that she held onto as the evening continued around her.

Forcing a neutral expression, she tried to suppress the unease that draped over her like a heavy cloak. The room buzzed with laughter and teasing, yet it was becoming harder for her to fully engage. Each time you threw your head back in laughter, your charm seemed to grow under the admiring gaze of her friends. A pang of doubt fluttered in her chest, a quiet ambivalence tugging at the edges of her mind.

Soon, the conversation shifted to relationships—a topic Belle was particularly excited to explore. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she leaned forward, her smile playful and a bit too eager. “So, what’s it like dating Julie unnie?” she asked, eyes twinkling. “Is she totally whipped for you?” The room erupted in laughter, and Julie felt warmth creeping up her cheeks—a comment that would normally roll off her back but now struck a tender nerve. Should she let it go? She clenched her jaw, forcing a tight smile.

Natty joined in, her usual boldness paired with an audacious smirk. “She's the leader of our group,” she said, glancing at you with a teasing glint, “but I bet you call all the shots at home. I can’t imagine her being in charge over you.”

You didn’t respond right away, and the group took your silence as confirmation, murmuring their agreement with amused grins. Haneul, ever the instigator, jumped in with laughter, egging on the playful ribbing. “Oh, for sure! Julie unnie, the one in control everywhere except with you,” she teased, nudging you with a wink.

The jests and laughter swirled around Julie like rising waves, each remark chipping away at her composure. She glanced anxiously at you, waiting—hoping—for you to step in and defend her, to assert the truth of your relationship and challenge their playful assumptions. But instead, you chuckled along with them, a casual shrug signaling that, to you, it was all just lighthearted banter. Seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity, and her stomach knotted tightly.

Your silence felt like a quiet betrayal. Why would you let them see her in such a simplistic, inaccurate way? How could you stand by, leaving the depth and nuances of your relationship blurred by their teasing?

A slow heat builds within Julie, anger bubbling beneath the surface, though she covers it with an artificial laugh, going along with the banter for the sake of appearances. Inwardly, her thoughts race, composing pointed retorts and fierce arguments she plans to unleash later. The laughter continues to fill the room, but joy feels painfully out of reach. She clutched the edge of your drink a bit tighter, hoping it’ll keep her grounded, but the jealousy from earlier and frustration continue to churn within, casting shadows that refuse to dissipate.

When the night finally winds down, and her friends’ laughter fades to soft goodbyes, Julie and you step out into the cool night air. The chill hits her like a sharp wave, bracing against her skin and momentarily clearing her head. But the fresh air does little to ease the simmering frustration that has been building inside her all evening.

The moment the door thuds shut behind her and you, cutting off the final echoes of laughter, the tension inside her snaps, unraveling the careful restraint she held all night. She turns to you, words tumbling out like a dam finally broken. “What the hell was that back there?” Her voice is low, sharp, and cold as it slices through the quiet of the night.

You blink, taken aback by the intensity in her tone. “What are you talking about?” you ask, confusion and concern mixing in your voice.

She crosses her arms, instinctively tightening them across her chest as if holding herself together against the flood of emotions threatening to spill. “You just sat there and let them say all that crap,” she spits, her voice trembling despite its force. “They were making me out to be a pushover, like I’m some kind of doormat at home. And you didn’t defend me—not once! Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”

Your eyes widen as realization sinks in, and guilt begins to weave through your thoughts. You open your mouth to respond, but she cuts you off before you can form the words. Taking a step closer, she looks up at you, her eyes glistening with restrained anger and hurt. “I expected you to set the record straight. To tell them that’s not who I am. But instead, you just… laughed along. Like it was all true.”

The accusation hangs heavy in the chilly air, each word settling deep. You feel the pang of guilt flicker across your face as you reach out, hesitating, searching for the right thing to say. But her gaze stops you, piercing and unwavering, a mix of anger and wounded pride. Beneath her anger, you see a raw sense of betrayal that gnaws at her, aching and exposed. This was supposed to be the night she introduced you to the people closest to her, the ones who saw her as strong and capable. Instead, she feels as though she’s been reduced to a shallow caricature, her relationship glossed over for the sake of a joke you let slide.

She draws a shaky breath, lowering her arms as she tries to steady herself, grounding the storm that churns inside her. “We’ll talk about this when we get home,” she says, her voice resolute and final, leaving no room for debate. She needs space to process the whirlwind of emotions before anything else can be said.

Your shoulders slump, and you nod silently, regret etching lines across your face. The two of you begin the walk back to your shared apartment in tense silence, each step echoing the growing chasm between you. The usual warmth and ease that bind you feel absent, replaced by a heavy, strained quiet that makes every footfall feel burdensome. The silence amplifies the divide, thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions, each step stretching the space further.

As you walk, she’s lost in thought, memories of the evening replaying in relentless loops. Every laugh, every teasing remark, and every moment you’d laughed along instead of defending her plays like an unending scene in a theater she can’t escape. Frustration simmers, coiling tightly in her stomach as she tries to understand how you could have missed how deeply it affected her, how your silence felt like a silent endorsement of their jokes.

-----

The familiar sight of your apartment, once a place that buzzed with shared laughter and the comfort of mutual understanding, now looms ahead, transformed into an arena of silent reckoning. Julie’s eyes, which once sparkled with shared secrets and inside jokes, now bore into you with a steely resolve that leaves no room for misinterpretation.

When she speaks, the word hangs in the air like a final verdict. “Strip.”

You find yourself obeying, not out of fear, but out of a deep-seated need to atone for your transgression.

As you undress, the gravity of the situation becomes increasingly palpable. Each article of clothing that hits the floor feels heavier than the last, a testament to your surrender and an acknowledgment of the power dynamics that have shifted so abruptly. The room, usually filled with warmth and comfort, seems to shrink around you, intensifying the awareness of your exposed state. The chair in the center, once ordinary, now holds an ominous presence, its unyielding surface a prelude to the control Julie is about to wield.

Sitting there, naked and vulnerable, your exposure transcends the physical; it becomes a baring of your very soul, a silent plea for forgiveness and understanding. The cool air of the apartment skates over your skin, raising goosebumps and sending shivers racing down your spine. Every sense feels heightened, tuned to the faintest sounds—the rustle of fabric, the soft creak of the floorboards, and the steady rhythm of her movement as she prepares. The anticipation stretches each second into an eternity, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

When Julie finally reemerges, the transformation is striking. Gone is the warm, light-hearted partner who shared laughter with you earlier in the night. In her place stands a figure of dominance, her presence commanding and confident. She is dressed in black, the fabric accentuating her form with precision, glinting subtly as she moves. In her hands are the tools of her trade: silken ropes that promise both comfort and captivity, a spreader bar that signals the extent of your impending restraint, and a gag that will soon silence your words.

Julie’s movements are deliberate, each step resonating through the quiet room. The click of her heels on the hardwood floor becomes a countdown to when your world will narrow to just her and the sensations she chooses to inflict. She pauses in front of you, her gaze sweeping over your form with a look that is both critical and approving. It’s not cruelty in her eyes but satisfaction—a shared acknowledgment of the trust underlying this exchange.

“Hands,” she commands, her voice low and unwavering. You comply immediately, bringing your wrists behind you as she steps closer. The scent of her perfume reaches you, teasing your senses. Her fingers are skilled, weaving the ropes with a practiced ease, the loops snug but not cutting. Each knot holds you firmly in place, ensuring your surrender is complete. The bindings serve as a tangible reminder of your submission, tightening with every subtle shift of your body.

Julie's eyes glinting with mischief as she picks up the gag. She holds it up for a moment, searching your gaze for that final glimmer of acceptance. She moves closer, fitting the gag around your head. The material presses into your lips, silencing any potential words. As the gag muffles your voice, turning your apologies and pleas into soft, incoherent murmurs that fill the room, Julie smiles in satisfaction.

The sensation is disorienting yet electrifying, deepening your vulnerability. With a playful smirk, she reaches for the spreader bar, attaching it firmly, stretching your legs and enhancing the sense of helplessness. You feel the weight of your submission settle in, the world around you narrowing to just her and the anticipation of what comes next.

She steps back to assess her work, the room momentarily filled with nothing but the sound of your breathing, now shallow and uneven. The silence stretches, amplifying the thrum of anticipation coursing through you. Her gaze lingers as she runs a finger down your arm, trailing goosebumps in its wake. The spreader bar still lies within reach, a promise waiting to be fulfilled.

“Do you know why you’re in this position?” she asks, her voice slicing through the quiet with a commanding edge. The question hangs in the air, charged with expectation.

You nod, the movement subtle but insistent. Your eyes meet hers, carrying an apology and submission that don’t need words. But the nod alone isn’t enough for her.

“Good,” she whispers, leaning down until her breath warms your skin. “Then you’re going to be a good boy and take everything I give you tonight. Understand?”

You nod again, more fervently this time, the gag pressing against your mouth as you do. Your heart thunders as her words echo in your mind, sending a pulse of anticipation through you that makes every nerve in your body come alive. Her lips curl into a smirk as she straightens, her eyes never leaving yours.

And with that, the teasing began.

Julie moves with a predator's grace, each step calculated and precise. She brushes against you, her body a whisper against your skin, as she circles the chair like a huntress toying with her prey. Every nerve heightens in suspense, registering each point of contact—her breasts grazing your arm, her hips swaying against your legs. The gag renders your mouth useless, but your eyes betray a silent, unspoken desire.

Her fingers skim lightly over your thighs and stomach, deliberately avoiding your most sensitive areas, savoring the way your body tenses under her touch. Fingernails scrape gently over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

"Already squirming," she teases, voice soft yet commanding. "I haven’t even started, and you’re falling apart."

A muffled groan escapes as your body instinctively yearns for more. She revels in your helpless state, bound and utterly under her control. Her fingers dance over your chest, tracing the contours of your muscles before finally grazing the tip of your hardened length. The touch is fleeting, barely enough to satisfy the ache building within, but just enough to keep you teetering on the edge.

"So needy already," she murmurs, dark amusement flickering in her eyes as she continues her tantalizing torment. "And I’ve barely touched you."

Julie’s mastery in the art of dominance is clear in the way she commands every inch of your submission, drawing out your reactions like a skilled musician coaxing a melody from each note. She knows the true power lies in denial, in the sweet agony of anticipation. Her hands explore further, tracing the lines of your torso, shifting between feather-light touches and firmer caresses.

The dynamic between you pulses with an electrifying tension, a charged dance of dominance and submission. Without warning, she climbs onto your lap, her thighs bracketing your hips as she straddles you. Her warmth presses against you, her slickness gliding over your length, coating you with her arousal and leaving a heated trail that only deepens the fire within you, threatening to consume you both in its intensity.

Her hips start a slow, deliberate grind, pressing her heat against you in a rhythm that’s both seductive and torturous, a constant teasing friction that only intensifies your need. Each controlled roll of her body against yours sends waves of pleasure rippling through you, spreading outward until every inch of your skin feels alive, hypersensitive to her slightest movement. She holds herself just out of reach, the wetness from her core brushing and slicking along your length, leaving you taut with need, your body practically vibrating with anticipation. Each soft gasp that escapes her lips as she moves only fuels the growing ache within you, driving you to instinctively buck your hips, craving to close the maddening distance, to press deeper into her warmth.

But the restraints binding you to the chair hold fast, forcing you to submit, a stark reminder of your willing captivity. Every strained movement, every pull against the bindings, only sharpens the ache, the urgency growing with each second she remains perched atop you, tantalizingly close but just out of reach.

She catches sight of the glistening evidence of your arousal at your tip, coated in her own slickness, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Leaking already," she murmurs, the tone a mixture of amusement and smug satisfaction. Her eyes gleam with wicked delight, drinking in every bit of evidence of your desire. "So desperate for me… and I haven’t even let you inside. Pathetic."

Her words cut through the fog of arousal, a sharp contrast to the gentleness of her fingers as they begin to wander, tracing languid lines across your chest. Her fingertips drift over your skin with a possessive tenderness, mapping each contour and ridge with expert care. Her nails skim along your muscles, trailing down over the firm lines of your torso and sending jolts of heat to every nerve, her touch both thrilling and maddeningly slow.

She leans in, her breath warm against your neck as she murmurs softly, her voice carrying a tone of command that feels both soft and absolute. Every inch of you responds to her, every nerve straining toward her touch as she masterfully pushes and pulls you between desire and restraint, leading you through a symphony of sensation, teasing you closer and closer to the edge without allowing release.

Your breaths come shallow and ragged, each exhale a silent plea for mercy as your gaze meets hers, desperation clear in your eyes. But there’s a glint of mischief in her expression as she holds you there, a silent acknowledgment that she’s in complete control. She has you—body and mind, bound and utterly at her mercy, while she conducts each sensation with calculated precision.

In one swift, unexpected move, she rises from your lap, leaving you throbbing, trembling with unfulfilled longing. The sudden absence of her warmth is jarring, a shock that leaves you gasping as your body craves her all the more. Helpless, you watch as she steps back, just out of reach, her gaze sweeping over you with a look of calm satisfaction, savoring the power she holds. She’s a goddess in her own right, basking in the way you devour her with your eyes, the silent worship etched across every fiber of your being.

With a fluid gesture, Julie blindfolds you, plunging you into darkness where every other sense sharpens. "You don’t get to beg with your eyes anymore," she murmurs, her lips brushing the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "You’ll just have to feel." Deprived of sight, every whisper of her movement against your skin intensifies, turning each caress into a new form of exquisite torture.

She kneels down and her hand wraps firmly around your shaft, motionless yet charged with intent. You can feel the beat of your own pulse against her palm, each rhythmic throb amplifying the ache within you. She holds you just like that, unhurried, letting the tension build until every second feels like an eternity.

Then, almost imperceptibly, her arm began to move. Each stroke is a maddening tease—soft, deliberate, and just enough to make your muscles clench with anticipation, but never enough to bring you the release you crave. She slides her hand upward, a slow and torturous ascent that ignites every nerve along the way, until she stops just below the tip. Her grip tightens just a little, holding you there, keeping you on edge, her control turning your desire into a relentless pulse.

After a breathless pause, she reverses course, moving just as slowly down to the base and stopping again. The deliberate rhythm—up, pause, down, pause—leaves you trembling, body taut and shivering under the command of her touch. Each hold, each slight squeeze, feels like both a promise and a denial, the tension building with every passing second. It’s a masterful, torturous dance, and you’re ensnared in her control, helpless yet entranced by her command over your senses.

Her lips part in a sly smile "Look at you," she murmurs, her voice low and honeyed. "So hard, so ready and I decide when you’re satisfied." Her words are a silken reminder of her power, and the restraint she demands makes the desire inside you swell even further, twisting with both longing and surrender.

Just when the suspense is unbearable, she leans closer, her breath grazing your length, warm and tantalizing. The soft, steady rhythm of her exhale sends ripples of heat through you, and the contrast between her closeness and the aching need intensifies the tension coiling within. Her breath lingers, teasing, as if savoring every second of the anticipation.

Then, her lips brush lightly against the tip, a feather-soft kiss that makes your entire body jolt in response. In that instant, a drop of anticipation escapes, and she notices, her gaze fixated on each pulse of your member. She dips her head, the tip of her tongue darting out just enough to scoop the small drop, her touch maddeningly gentle.

Her tongue traces the tiniest, deliberate flick across the sensitive skin, collecting the bead with exquisite care. Each soft, restrained stroke of her tongue stokes the fire within, leaving you teetering on the edge of release yet held back, her control absolute. Each touch is measured, perfectly calculated to keep you suspended between need and surrender, an unrelenting tease that keeps you helplessly ensnared.

Your muscles strain against the bonds that hold you, your body surrendering to the exquisite torment she inflicts. The pride that once stiffened your spine melts under her touch, leaving you utterly exposed and vulnerable. In this game of pleasure and restraint, Julie is the undisputed master.

"What a pathetic mess," she taunts, amusement lacing her voice as she revels in her dominion over your body. "You tower me and yet I can make you crumble with just a touch." Her words cut both as a rebuke and a compliment, a testament to her irresistible allure.

With each slow stroke along your shaft and each flick of her tongue over the sensitive tip, she brings you to the very edge of release, only to pull back, leaving you teetering on the brink of bliss. Your body arches, straining against the restraints, desperate for the ultimate surrender that only she can offer.

Then, without warning, she stops.

Julie stands back, posture exuding a blend of amusement and authority, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips as she watches your frustrated contortions. Her eyes glint with mischief, sparkling like sunlight on an unruly sea, as she takes in the sight of you squirming under the weight of your desire. The tension thickens, a palpable pulse wrapping around you both, amplifying every flicker of energy flowing between you.

“You want to cum so badly, don’t you?” she taunts, her voice dropping to a low, sultry purr that resonates in the core of your being, each syllable dripping with seduction. The words hang in the air, tantalizing and laced with playful command, pulling you even deeper into her orbit. She leans closer, her warm breath brushing against your skin, strengthening the connection that crackles between you.

“Beg for it,” she continues, her tone turning sharper, though still steeped in teasing allure. “Apologize for what you did to me earlier.” Her eyes narrow, challenging you to surrender, to embrace the vulnerability simmering just beneath the surface. The power dynamic dances between you, electric and heady, anticipation swirling like a cyclone that leaves you breathless, utterly captivated by her control.

Your response is a garbled attempt at speech, the gag reducing your words to incomprehensible murmurs. Yet the desperation is unmistakable, a raw testament to the intensity of your need.

Julie chuckles softly, her breath hot and laced with playful mischief as she leans in, her lips hovering near your ear. The warmth radiating from her skin sends a shiver down your spine, heightening the tension simmering between you.

“I can’t understand you,” she teases, voice low and sultry, each word leaving a trail of excitement in the still air. Her playful tone cuts through the intensity, a lightness that only sharpens the edge of the moment. A mischievous grin dances across her lips, a blend of challenge and allure that sets your heart racing.

“You’ll have to try harder than that,” she purrs, her eyes bright with mischief. The space between you crackles with unspoken desire as you struggle to respond, caught in the spell she weaves. Julie’s confidence and sass infuse the moment with an infectious thrill, holding you captive in a deliciously precarious game of cat and mouse.

With renewed urgency, you try again to plead, your muffled cries growing more frantic. But Julie’s smirk remains, her head shaking in silent refusal as she drinks in your pleas, delight flickering in her gaze.

The seconds stretch, each one a small eternity that settles heavily on your consciousness. The yearning inside intensifies, a silent plea for release that feels like a prayer. Each minute seems to stretch further, blending into a timeless void filled only with the sound of your ragged breaths and the pounding of your heart.

Julie watches with an intensity that’s both unsettling and thrilling, her gaze tracking every twitch, every involuntary shudder that runs through you. She seems to derive a certain pleasure from this power, this control she holds over you.

Then, as if guided by an impulsive whim or sensing a subtle shift within you, her demeanor changes. Her fingers, which have been teasing around your length, suddenly tighten around your shaft. The warmth of her palm contrasts sharply with the cool air, the pressure sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

In an instant her hand begins to move in deliberate, fast strokes. Each motion is a symphony of sensation, a calculated descent into the depths of pleasure. Your muscles coil like a spring, tension mounting with every pass of her hand.

The room fills with the sound of your muffled moans, the gag doing little to stifle the raw, animalistic noises escaping your throat. Parched from panting, forming words becomes impossible, but your body speaks for you, each tremor a language of pure need. Your back arches, every fiber straining against the crescendo of sensation threatening to overwhelm.

Then, with a suddenness that’s both startling and inevitable, the wave of release crashes over you. After the relentless teasing and countless moments held just on the brink, the sensation is nothing short of explosive. It’s as though every nerve in your body has been ignited, the intense buildup finally finding its release in a torrent that consumes you completely. The climax is powerful and shuddering, each pulse deeper and more overwhelming than the last, streaking across your stomach and chest as Julie angles you just so, letting every drop land exactly where she intended.

The sensation is almost blinding, leaving you trembling in its wake. The sheer force of release leaves your muscles shuddering, as if they’re catching up to the relief they’ve been denied for so long. Your breaths come in sharp gasps, each one echoing the intensity of everything you’ve been holding back. Every ounce of tension unwinds, cascading through your limbs until you feel weightless, utterly spent.

As the aftershocks ripple through you, your head was buzzing, the world narrowed to the warmth and satisfaction coursing through your body. Julie’s hand slows, her touch soft and almost reverent as she loosens her grip, fingers tracing gentle circles along your skin. Her gaze lingers over the evidence of her careful work, a quiet triumph in her eyes as she takes in the effect she’s had on you, savoring each tremor and shallow breath.

You thought you were done, that the punishment had finally matched the crime, but you couldn't have been more wrong. The game is far from over.

The air hangs heavy with the scent of leather and the unmistakable musk of arousal, filling the space between you. Julie’s fingers work with expert precision as she reaches for the buckle behind your head, the slick click of metal releasing the ball gag from your mouth breaking the tense silence. As the gag falls away, you gasp for air, your chest heaving with a sharp, grateful intake, savoring the rush of cool air against your parched throat—a fleeting relief from the intensity she’s kept you under.

But she allows you no time to settle. Her fingers glide up to the blindfold, and with a quick tug, she pulls it away, letting light spill into your vision. Your eyes squint and blink, adjusting to the sudden brightness after so long in darkness, the details of the room coming back into focus in a dazed, almost surreal clarity. Julie’s face comes into view, her gaze heavy with satisfaction, her expression carrying the weight of everything she’s just put you through.

In one fluid motion, she gathers the overwhelming evidence of your surrender—your release, slick, warm and copious in her hand, holding it up between you, letting the light catch it as if it were some prized possession. Her eyes, dark and filled with a knowing glint, meet yours, and the look she gives you is laced with pride, satisfaction, and a sense of complete ownership that sends another shiver down your spine.

Her expression speaks volumes, a blend of triumph and control, as if marking this moment as her own creation. The silence stretches, laden with all the unspoken promises she’s fulfilled, and the intensity of her gaze makes it clear that she isn’t done with you yet.

“Open,” she commands, her voice a silky rasp that brooks no disobedience. Your lips part instinctively, the submissive reflex inside you responding to her dominance. Slowly, deliberately, she tips her hand, letting the viscous fluid slide over your tongue. The taste is salty, bitter—a potent reminder of your surrender.

"Keep it there until I say otherwise," she instructs, her tone leaving no room for misunderstanding. You nod slightly, eyes wide, a blend of fear, excitement, and adoration clouding your gaze. A soft whine escapes you, a sound that speaks volumes about your submission.

Her hand resumes its relentless rhythm on your sensitive member, merciless in its pace, drawing you back to the peak of pleasure despite the sharp, overstimulated ache that borders on pain. Each jolt that courses through your body makes you feel your vulnerability tenfold. The strength you once prided yourself on is gone, leaving you trembling, utterly at her mercy.

“Keep squirming” she purrs, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she revels in the sight of you reduced to this state. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Your body twitches under her touch, control completely relinquished to her hands. The overstimulation is overwhelming, but stopping is a luxury she’s denied you, and you’re left trapped in an intoxicating blend of ecstasy and agony that only she can navigate.

Julie’s eyes, darkened with unrestrained desire, stay locked onto yours as her slick hand works you closer and closer. But there’s no comfort in her gaze, only dominance and satisfaction as she sees you fall apart under her touch. She leans in, a mocking smile on her lips. “Look at you—just a mess. Can’t even handle a little girl like me.”

The pressure builds unbearably, each second a dizzying rush that overwhelms you. Your face twists in desperation, begging silently for her mercy as her pace continues. Just when you think you can’t bear it anymore, your control shatters, a raw moan escapes you as a couple drops of liquid spills from your lips onto your chest as your release is forced from you again.

But Julie only smirks, her hand still working with an unrelenting rhythm, refusing to give you even a moment’s reprieve. She watches, amused, as you whimper and struggle beneath her, her mocking voice low and taunting. “I didn’t say you could stop.”

Your eyes widen, pleading, but she doesn’t relent. The sensitivity has your body spasming under her touch, every nerve frayed as she pushes you toward a second release, knowing it will push you past all limits. You can only submit, powerless as she drives you quickly over the edge again.

With a broken moan that quickly crescendos into a loud, uncontrollable cry, your body surrenders, releasing one last time in a shuddering wave. The climax is so overwhelming that your muscles, usually clenching tight in moments like this, go limp under her dominance. The sensation crashes over you, leaving your mind blank and your body helplessly convulsing.

As the intensity peaks, your previous release spills from your mouth, dripping down to your chest and mingling with the sweat beading your skin. The warm, slick mess spreads across your torso, the sensation amplifying the vulnerability coursing through you. Every fiber of your being is overtaken, leaving you quivering and trembling as she finally eases her grip. You collapse, utterly spent and broken before her, breaths coming in ragged gasps as the overstimulation echoes through your limbs.

Julie’s eyes never leave yours as she leans in, claiming your mouth in a fierce, possessive kiss that leaves you gasping. She pulls back with a sharp smirk, then spits harshly onto your chest, the suddenness of it making you shudder as the warmth mixes with the already smeared fluids. The act stings with raw dominance, each drop marking her claim. Slowly, she drags her fingers through the blend, smearing it purposefully across your skin. Each stroke is deliberate, a cool reminder of her power as her touch lingers over your heaving chest, spreading the warmth until it clings to every inch of you.

“There,” she murmurs with a smirk, voice a perfect blend of pride and satisfaction. “Now you’ll remember exactly who owns you.”

Julie rises slowly, her fingers gliding down your chest, pausing to press lightly where your heartbeat betrays your surrender. She steps back, her eyes sweeping over you—bound to the chair, hands secured tightly behind your back, legs spread wide by the bar at your ankles. Every inch of you is exposed, vulnerable, and yet there’s no desire to resist. The calmness settles deeper, the certainty of yielding to her undeniable.

A small, satisfied smile plays at the corner of her lips as she studies you, taking in the way the ropes hold you exactly where she wants. Her gaze fixes on you with a confidence that’s unbreakable. “This,” she says, her tone soft yet edged with command, “is exactly where you belong. Tied up, under my control, waiting for my command. You don’t get to call the shots here—that’s my role.” Her words settle over you, embedding themselves like an invisible mark, a seal on the surrender you feel.

She steps behind you, her hands resting firmly on your shoulders, anchoring you in her presence. She begins to knead away the last traces of tension, her fingers firm yet gentle, drawing you deeper into her influence. A shiver races down your spine as she leans close, her breath warm against your ear.

“Think about tonight,” she murmurs, her voice both soft and unshakable, as though each word is settling into you. “Think about how easily you yield, how completely you become mine, just as you are right now. Because this”—her nails trail lightly down your back, drawing a sharp breath from you—“is how things will be. In this house, and anywhere else we go.”

Her hands slide back to your wrists, her fingers deftly working to untie the ropes that have held you so tightly. She moves with care, releasing each bond one by one, each motion a reminder of her control. Even as the ropes fall away, the feeling of being held by her command remains. She moves to your front, kneeling to remove the spreader bar from your ankles, her fingers brushing your skin lightly, each touch a reminder that it’s her choice to free you, her decision.

Once free, you feel the urge to stretch, but her gaze roots you to the spot, grounding you in her authority. Her eyes stay fixed on you, unwavering, and without a word, the weight of her expectation presses down. It’s instinctive—you feel yourself slowly sinking down, lowering to your knees before her, your hands coming to rest at your sides.

Julie steps closer, her fingers reaching for your chin. She tilts your head up, bringing your eyes to meet hers, and the weight of her command settles even deeper within you.

“This,” she says, her thumb brushing softly over your jawline, “is exactly where you belong—at my feet, waiting for my word. I want you to see who’s in control, who makes the choices. And every time you look at me like this, you’ll remember that every action, every decision, is mine.” Her fingers tighten just slightly, her gaze holding yours with a depth that leaves no room for doubt.

You nod subtly, the acceptance in your gaze mirroring her certainty. Her hold on your chin remains, her fingers pressing a little firmer, reinforcing the truth she’s just spoken. “I don’t want you to just obey. I want you to feel it, to know that every inch of you is mine to command. You stay when I say stay. You move when I allow it. Understand?”

The air is thick with her authority, her words pressing into you, reinforcing her control in every possible way. You nod then finally, she releases your chin.

She smiles, her satisfaction evident. “Good,” she murmurs, watching you closely. “Get up and go clean yourself. Then meet me in bed. We're going to discuss your behavior at the dorm.”

You rise slowly, each movement a reminder of the boundaries she’s drawn. As you turn toward the bathroom, you feel her gaze lingering, following you like a weight that holds you in place even as you walk away. And when the door clicks shut behind you, the image of her small, knowing smile remains etched in your mind—a reminder of the perfect place she’s found for you, right where she intended.

[prettyboykatsuki]

lock and key | h. sakura

✮ tags ; afab + gender neutral reader, dom!reader, sub!sakura, ejaculation management, so much dirty talk, praise kink, cumming untouched, nipple play / teasing, established relationships, aged-up characters, 18+

✮ wc ; 3.6k (??)

✮ a/n ; my melatonin is begging me to sleep and im too busy thinking about this guys dick. fuck man whatever.

On the rooftop of Furin, among flower-beds and tomato plants - Sakura asks you to be his with a less than confident pout and a single rose.  

It is stupidly corny and so sincere it borders on funny. You’re a little surprised by it given the nature of your relationship. You’ve been friends since he came into town three years ago - dancing around unrequited feelings for about two years, and recently landed on mutual feelings after someone gave Sakura spiked punch at one of Umemiya’s gatherings.  

He is characteristically clumsy in asking you. He spends the first half of your conversation getting pissed about nothing before you ask him what he wants, all smiles, and he loses his cool all over again. You fall in love with him a little more when he has to avert his eyes to get the words out. He has so many nervous tics. A hand on the back of his neck, chewing the inside of his lip.  

The most noticeable part of his confession is just how red he is the entire time. His shirt is a little loose, and when he ducks his head down - you can see perfectly along the curve of back and he’s blushing. It’s so cute, so stupidly endearing - you completely lose track of what’s happening around you.  

You manage to accept the confession. Sakura gains the courage to kiss you but he’s shaking the whole time, and it’s so cute to see how much he fumbles despite having known you for years.  

It’s a good memory, and it leaves a strong impression - and it’s no doubt the start of your desire to warp your boyfriends body to your desires so strongly.  

__  

Sakura blushes easily.  

Too easily. 

For as long as you’ve been friends, he’s never been able to kick the habit. You’d almost think he was allergic to sincerity given how much he reacts to even the faintest presence of it. It doesn’t matter where that sincerity is directed—though it’s much worse when it’s for him—it’s just something he’s conscious of generally. It’s to the point where it’s a running joke amongst the friend group, though never to his face.  

He suffers enough with so little teasing, no one really has the heart to go further. And even without being teased, Sakura is super reactive. Like a cat hissing or electricity bubbling through water - pure danger at the lightest brush or sensation. Be it romance, or friendship, or the vaugest compliment. Sakura will blush and squirm for any reason at all, really. 

In a way, you think that’d take away from the novelty of it but it hasn’t. Every time Sakura breaks out into a faint blush, you feel your heart squeeze tight in your chest.  

It’s hard not to bully Sakura when he makes it so unbelievably easy. And looks so cute when you do it.  

You do your best to curb your desires at first because Sakura tries hard to look cool in front of you. Towards the beginning of your relationship, he seemed especially determined to be more boyfriend-like towards you. You’re sure that’s tangentially related to how you two started as friends and how terribly self-aware he is of it all the time. You already know each other well, but the step-up from friend to partner is just a little bit too steep for him to climb easily. This manifests in the most try-hard version of Sakura you’ve ever known in your life, and it’s very sweet.  

It is, really.  

Too sweet. Too cute. It does nothing but pour gasoline on the sexual desire and mild fetish you’ve developed for your boyfriends easily embarrassed personality. It worsens it so much it’s a little shocking to you.  

Maybe you’ve always had that kind of inclination, but Sakura takes what was once just a passing thought and blooms into full blown sexual fantasy with no effort at all.  

You plan on keeping it to yourself at first, because you’re pretty sure you’d scare him off if you brought it up too soon. 

The first time you make out with Sakura though, after you start dating - he cums in his pants after a little kissing and grinding. Not that abnormal for a virgin you think. What is, however, abnormal - is what actually ends up pushing him over the edge and making him cum so quickly: praise. 

It was like feeling time slow down. You’d whispered in his ear that he felt good - that he was kissing you in a way that felt good. On the next breath, he bucked his hips up against the seam of his pants and made a mess in his jeans. Whimpered in your ear like a whining cat in heat, with no self-awareness until after the fact. His cum was warm against your clothed crotch as he rode his high - breathless and stupid. Not a thought behind his eyes for a few seconds until he could collect himself enough to be ashamed.  

Sakura having a praise kink is so obvious when you think about it, it’s a little laughable. But to know the extent of it made your desires towards him all that much stronger.  

It gave you the confidence to proceed in trying to change his body and make it a little more sensitive. Not being able to stop think about it made you want to push the boundaries, which is why you end up asking Sakura to let you take the reigns.  

Of course he doesn’t want to agree at first. It’s a hit to his pride you’re sure.  

But with a little more coaxing, he agrees to let you do as you please and hear you out on whatever weird thing you seem so interested in doing. He’s weak to your pouting, even weaker to pleasure - so fine, if you want to do something weird to him, he’ll let you.  

Permission was all you needed.  

__  

You start slowly.  

The first time you see Sakura again after agreeing on letting you lead, he can barely stand to be in the same room as you. He decides to let you come over to his apartment instead of going over to yours. You spend the whole day together having an at-home date that ends up being more cooking and watching movies on a laptop together than anything else.  

Night falls when Sakura eventually signals his desire for intimacy after he spent the day escaping his nerves. He doesn’t say it as much as he shows it. After you come out from the shower, he stares at you so intensely it’s hard not to get the.  

You get down on your knees to kiss him before you pull away, a hand on his cheek and pure adoration seeing the state of his face. Cherry red blush dusted all over his skin and pupils blown wide with such adorably obvious desire. 

“Can I touch you?”  

“Why’re you asking?” He stumbles over the words. “J-just do it.”  

You press your back against the wall and tell Sakura to sit between your spread legs - pleased as he obliges you even after some hesitance. You’re a little afraid yourself, the enormity of your lust as Sakura rests his back against your chest overwhelming.  

“This is weird.”  

“Bear with it, please?”  

He doesn’t complain again. You kiss against his shoulder blades, smiling at the way he squirms - tilting his head to meet your mouth and kiss him over his shoulder.  

Your hands clasp his waist, nails running along his sides deliberately slow - dragging against the fabric and so lightly against the skin. He protests it but doesn’t tell you to stop. You let your nails brush against his nipples and his cock jumps in his boxers. Moonlight seeps through the windows, emphasizing the paleness of him under his clothes You can feel his musculature as his back lays against your chest, the steady pumping of your heart matching your own.  

When he reaches the brink of a complaint, you whisper his name against his ear.  

“Haruka-kun,” Tender and breathless - warm against his cool skin. “Just trust me okay? I’ll make you feel really good.”  

“I’m the one that should be—,” His words cut off with a moan, a little helpless sound as you brush against his nipples again. “Damn it.”  

“You want to make me feel good, right? You’re so thoughtful, baby.” Your praise comes in thick - accompanied with a more direct touch. You brush your palms over his clothed erection, smiling as it twitches again. His hips buck for more friction that you don’t afford him. “It makes me feel good when you listen.”  

“That’s…”  

You squeeze his shaft through his clothes for a few seconds before letting go again. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you Haruka?”  

“The hell,” It intends to come out harsher than it does. Another muffled moan as you squeeze his cock again, watching his face bloom in reds. He drops his head back along your shoulders. Almost boneless in your arms, you continue to touch his cock indirectly. “What are you.. ohhh,”  

“My good boy. Listen well, and I’ll make sure it feels really good. And you can have anything you want afterwards. Okay?” 

“…Anything?”  

“Anything,” You promise gently. “But you have to listen. Can do you that for me?“ 

He gives you another short, precise nod as you rub his cock again affectionately, a kiss on the nape of his neck. He shivers as goosebumps form along his skin.  

“Damn it. Fine.”  

You kiss him again, another stroke following the touch as you grin against his shoulder. “Perfect.”  

__  

You spend three weeks managing Sakura’s orgasms.   

It takes him a little while to deal with your unreasonable request. You tell him again though that if bears with for a while, he can have anything he possibly wants from you. The prospect of that is too exciting for him to turn you down, so he caves eventually.  

You have one rule: Sakura can’t cum for seven consecutive days. After seven days you want him to cum untouched. No matter what though, you’ll reward him. 

 It takes him a while to reach that goal. You spend your nights doing the same routine as the first nigh, escalating by drawing it out more each time. Light touches followed with deliberately thick, syrupy praise. You fulfill his needs through other means, but showering him in affection makes up most of it.  

You get good at learning what things make him tick. Sakura likes to hear that he’s good for you above all else. That’s always the thing that makes him twitch. He likes being praised for his efforts less than he likes mindless flattery. He likes when you attach possession to the words you use. Affirm his place as yours with every stroke of hands or tracing of fingers. Light touches make him shiver so much it’s cute.  

You learn that his nipples are sensitive and so are his ears and the inside of his thighs when you squeeze them. He likes rougher treatment of his chest but softer against his neck. He likes to be squeezed firmly instead of lightly but you tend to avoid touching his dick too much if at all.  

It’s a little like training a puppy. You follow your routine with strict habituation and Sakura picks up on your cues quickly. Over a few weeks, you watch him grow to anticipate the session of unadulterated praise. Eventually, he’s red before you even touch him, glassy eyed and hard before you even get on your hands on him or kiss him. Just the anticpation is enough because he’s already so easy to work up.  

He fails in not cumming a few times, but that’s okay - you always assure him it’ fine.  

Again and again, you shape his tastes to fit your preferences with cool direction and repetition like water eroding stone. Sakura stops questioning it once the pleasure starts to sink in, eventually so hung up on the feeling - you can barely be in public together without his mind drifting back to it. His headspace gets so melty.  

He’s always been quiet when it comes to affection but he’s practically docile, putty between your fingers as he lets himself be completely pampered when you’re alone. It’s a little surprising ow well he takes it, but you think the desperation outweighs the shame. The desire for release too strong to refuse it no matter how much of a fuss he puts up at the start.  

It’s cute to see him corrupt so fast for your sake. He’s too prideful to beg but once he gets so desperate, he makes a face that’s practically the same. He starts to be interested in the reward at one point or another - though you’re not sure when exactly that is. He really tries so hard not to cum. Your rules are always clear and simply.  

He can cum before you if he wants,  but he has to wait seven days for a rewards. You’ll know if he cums before then. 

After three weeks of ruined orgasms, he eventually abides by this. He still wants you to touch him though. You spend your time as a normal couple until nightfall, and when it’s time - Sakura waits for you to start.  

He’s not vocal about his submission, doesn’t acknowledge it in full even when it’s so obvious. His compliance speaks for itself you think. How he spreads his legs and relaxes into your body more and more - allowing himself to be completely quiet and listen to you. You know you’ve got him when he stops fighting any of it and just allows you to touch him without too much fuss.  

You’re good to Sakura of course. You always praise him softly, sweetly - always kiss him as much as he wants even if you don’t touch his cock directly. You always make him feel good in other ways even if he’s not allowed to cum.  

Eventually, he makes good on the promise of one week. It’s hard on him, you can tell - and he doesn’t do it without whining, but he fights for it. Lets you touch and tease and praise him until his brain shuts off, crawling into your arms right afterwards so you can card your fingers through his hair and praise him more with his face buried in your chest eventually falling to sleep.  

A week passes, eventually - and this time, you end up on Sakura’s lap. A good distance away from his cock. You sit closer to his knees as he sits on a comfortable chair in your well furnished apartment. You haven’t touched him at all, but he’s already got the pretty, glassy expression on his face.  

You cup his cheek with your hand, endeared by how he nuzzles instinctively into your palm. He’s not wearing anything today while you remain clothed aside from your top. 

“I’m so proud of you, baby.” You coo. The reaction is instant, eyes lidding and face growing hot as you continue to shower him with attention. He groans faintly but doesn’t say anything in reply. “It took a little while, but you made it a whole week. Haruka-kun did a good job for me. Made me so happy.” 

He likes hearing that. Praise about how it pleases you always sticks. His face grows warm with familiar, pained arousal. He flushes red down to his chest - his whole body radiating heat. You stare at his cock as it twitches to life at the words, elated when you see the first dribble of precum slide down the shaft. It’s hard for you to not to touch him but you wouldn’t ruin your own hard work.  

“You like making me happy huh? You always do,” You mutter, brushing your thumb across his cheek bone. He’s quiet, eyes look misty as you talk. “My pretty boy. All mine forever. All of you. From here to,” Your brush hair from his forehead before trailing your nails down his chest - lightly scratching above the base of his cock, on his stomach. You brush the soft, bi-colored hairs at the base but don’t get close enough to touch. “Here. Always mine, baby.”  

“S-shit, hngh,”  

“You worked so hard, didn’t you?” You kiss his forehead, his temple, his cheek. “I know it was tough. Bet you’re gonna cum so much for me today. I’ll give you anything you want after you cum once. Anything. Doesn’t that sound nice?”  

His words come out as a slur, thick with want. “Y’promise?”  

Your heart flutters. “Mhm. Whatever you want. You can fuck me, use my mouth. Anything, baby. It’s all yours. You earned it. Such a good boy.”  

“Nghhh,” He throws his head back slightly, his cock twitching again. Bobbing as it jumps against air, you stare down at how more pre-crum dribbles from the tip. “Fuck, fuck. Need to cum, can’t—I can’t”  

“You can cum whenever, Haruka. You’re getting so messy. It’s for me, right? Haruka’s cum,” You mumble, staring at it. “So thick. So much of it left,”  

His eyes go wide before breaking out into another wave of heat - cheels flushing red. His ears, nose, face — all of it. He groans aloud, adams apple bobbing in his throat as arousal makes his cock pulse.  “Good boy. Come on. I want to see you cum for me. Do you think you can? Think you can cum if I praise you a bit? Your cock twitches so much when I’m sweet to you baby, does it make you feel that good to hear? Made you so weak to praise your dick can barely stand it, right? It’s cute. Haruka-kun is so, so cute.”  

His jaw is dropped open dumbly, unable to speak or say anything else as he shivers underneath you. You can feel him squirm, his cock twitching again and again. You don’t touch his dick at all, but you slide your hand down to the soft planes of his stomach and hold it there. Rubbing soft circles into it with your thumb.  

“It’s twitching so hard,” You say with fascinated delight. His whole body strains, a short, clipped, helpless whimper escaping his lips completely involuntary. He bites back as much of the noise as he possible can as your own arousal builds in your stomach. “I’m so turned on watching you like this.”  

It’s almost like a switch flips in him. You can see the surprise in his face, see the reaction in his physical body so fast you can’t help but laugh in awe. “Did you think I just did it for no reason?”  

“No, but… I didn’t think — I d-don’t know, I just didn’t think.” 

You laugh again. “Then should I tell you? I get wet when I bully you and you get like this. So pathetic and needy and so cute. You always get mad when I call you cute but your cock is twitching so much hearing it,” You tell him contentedly. “It feels so good seeing you blush like this. You turn red and it’s so pretty - Haruka-kun is so pretty it’s unfair. Isn’t it natural that I get like this looking at you?”  

He groans, his shoulders shaking as you push him forward. You laugh, delighted by his reaction.  

“Should I tell you something good?” You tease, watching for his eyes to lock with yours before you go on. “I alway went home and touched myself thinking of what kind of face you made for me the night before. Came so much to how pretty Haruka is, you know? Even right now, I’m holding back from touching you and making you cum all over my hands. You wanna cum inside instead though right? After you cum once, I’ll get you nice and hard again and then you can cum where you want. Okay? Cum for me, baby. Be good for me.”  

You hear Sakura gasp and know what’s coming, smiling to yourself as his muscles go taut - hips bucking up as it overtakes him. 

You let your hand hover over the tip of his cock and watch his body shudder as he lets out a load of cum completely untouched. It’s so thick and heavy it doesn’t really shoot as much as it spills all along his shaft in his spurts. Sakura sobs in ruin at the sensation, groaning as your hand wraps around the base of his cock and pumps out the rest.  

His entire body shudders in a flush of red - all rashy knees and blushy chest, nipples tense and hard as he cums while his stomach tightens as he releases. His cock throbs against your hands, still completely hard even after having orgasmed. His face is wet, vision blurred from fat tears that he can barely blink away in time.  

He’s so reactive to the feeling of your hand, he ends up cumming again a little with a strained cry.  

You watch him in amusement, waiting for him to settle down as you rest your palm over the tip to catch any more cum. After you lean forward to meet his mout. He kisses you so eagerly, all tongue and spit - pulling away with breath.  

“You’re so good for me, Haruka,” You kiss the corner of his mouth. “How should I reward you?”  

“Don’t care just,” He drops his head down. “Touch me. All over. Make me feel good. I want to feel you. P-please.”  

You smile a little. “Must be really bad for you to ask me something so embarrassing with your own voice.”  

“Shut the hell up. My dick is gonna explode and it’s so embarrassing so just” He groans. “Y-you’re the devil, just. Please.”  

“Course baby,” You mutter, stroking his cock for emphasis - happy as you watch him shiver. “Anything you want.”  

[jaeyunsonlyy]

WHY DO I FEEL LIKE SOMEBODY'S WATCHING ME?

Pairing :- Idol!stalker jake x fem!reader

Warnings :- Stalking, Catfishing, unprotected sex, degrading names, jake is really obsessed

A/n :- HII YES I KNOW THIS IS VERY BAD I HATE THIS TOO BUT ITS MY FIRST FIC SO PLS BE KIND WITH ME I'LL BECOME BETTER IN FUTURE PROMISE 😭Also scheduling this incase I get drunk tonight

"Y/n, flowersss" You're friend who's also a barista says bring in a bouquet of flowers.

"Again ?? This is the third one this week" you say surprised.

"Guess your little admirer is too desperate" your friend laughs

"Still can't believe me out of all people have a secret admirer" you chuckle.

Its cute you thought how someone kept sending you flowers because they admired you. This was your first time receiving flowers from a admirer so it made you feel like a middle school girl sometimes.

It was closing time of the cafe, you bid goodbye to your friends and headed home. It was a long tiring day and you just wanted to lie down and sleep but you're better than that so you freshened up changing into your pjs and heating up the leftover pasta from the morning. Sitting down on your bed, you're about to take a bite of your food when a notification chimes in

Reading the name a smile appeared on your face .

@jakesim.official : "Did you get home ?"

@you : You know your username still sometime gives me a mini heart attack thinking THE REAL sim jaeyun just texted me

@jakesim.official : Sue me for keeping the username as the name of the man I admire the most

@you : Gay.

@jakesim.official : fuck off I'm not gay and atleast I don't thirst over his literal hands

@you : YOU DON'T GET IT YOU'RE A MAN

@jakesim.official : Bet you get wet over his pictures

@you : uh

@jakesim.offical : BITCH YOU ACTUALLY FUCKING DO THAT ? NAHH YOU NASTYYYY

@you : I'm just a girl 💔

@jakesim.offical : You're actually a whore hope that helps ❤️

@you : fuck you I'm going to sleep

@jakesim.offical : nighty night whore ❤️

You chuckle light shaking your head at his last message.

When did all this start ? Lets go 2 weeks back.

The energy in the air was electric, the buzz of thousands of fans reverberating through the stadium. You had been waiting for this day for as long as you could remember—Enhypen's concert, and you were finally here. The tickets had been nearly impossible to get, and when you held them in your hands, it felt like a dream come true. Enhypen wasn’t just a K-pop group to you; they were your world, your escape from the miserable routine of everyday life. And Jake... Jake was your bias, the one you spent hours watching, admiring, and adoring.Standing amidst a sea of glowing light sticks and enthusiastic chants, you felt an overwhelming sense of belonging. For months, you had saved up for this night, taking up extra shifts at work, working multiple jobs at the same time.

Tonight, it felt like all that dedication had been worth it.The lights dimmed, and the stadium erupted in screams as the gates of the stage opened which the members stepping out.This was it. The moment you’d been waiting for. Enhypen took positions and drunk dazed echoed across the venue.

You were in absolute awe how good they were on stage. Something about jake that day was different, which made him stand out, maybe it was the way he moved with such ease, such confidence, every step calculated but natural. His hair was styled perfectly, the strands falling across his forehead in that effortless way he always seemed to pull off. His gaze, dark and intense, swept across the crowd as he sang his lines, and for a fleeting second, you could have sworn he looked directly at you.You laughed it off, shaking your head. Of course, he didn’t actually see you—there were thousands of fans here. But the thought alone made your cheeks flush, a silly daydream playing in your mind. The concert continued, every song pulling you deeper into the performance. You sang along, the lyrics coming as second nature, your voice blending into the chorus of other engenes who worshipped Enhypen just as much as you did.But every time you looked at Jake, that feeling crept back. A strange sensation, like he did see you. Like his eyes lingered on you a little longer than they should have. You mentally slapped yourself at the idea, and you found yourself glancing around, everyone was lost in their own excitement, too consumed by the performance.

Then it happened again.

During one of their slower songs, when the members moved closer to the edge of the stage to interact with the fans, Jake’s gaze locked onto you. This time, it wasn’t a quick glance. It felt deliberate, pointed. Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you couldn’t move, couldn’t tear your eyes away from his. It was like everything else faded—the lights, the music, the screams of the crowd—and it was just you and him.A slow smile crept across his lips, and your heart skipped. Was this real? You blinked rapidly, shaking your head as if trying to shake off the illusion. But when you looked again, Jake’s eyes were still on you, still holding that intense, almost unsettling gaze. The moment stretched on for what felt like forever, and then he was gone, moving down the stage to another section of the crowd, leaving you breathless and confused.The rest of the concert passed in a blur. Your mind kept replaying that look, the way his eyes had seemed to search for something in you, how it made your heart race in ways you couldn’t explain. By the time the encore came around, you were physically exhausted but emotional almost crying. The members waved their final goodbyes, disappearing backstage one by one, and you found yourself standing there, unable to fully comprehend what had just happened.The crowd slowly began to disperse, fans still buzzing with excitement, but you stayed rooted to the spot for a moment longer. As you turned to leave, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Pulling it out, you glanced at the screen—a notification from social media. You had posted a picture of you infront of the stage, nothing special. You opened it and froze.

A new follower.

Your heart almost jumped out when you saw the username, but then you realized it wasn’t the Jake Sim. Instead, it was a fan account: @JakeSim.official. It was a common enough name for fan accounts, so you brushed off the initial excitement that surged through you. Still, something about the timing of it made you pause.You clicked on the account, finding nothing particularly unusual. The profile was full of Jake-related content—photos, fancams, and retweets from other fans. Harmless. Just another fan of Jake, like you.

But something nagged at the back of your mind. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the concert, or maybe it was just your own wild imagination, but the thought lingered longer than it should have. You laughed at yourself, locking your phone and shaking your head. There was no reason to feel strange about a simple follow from a fan account.

As you left the venue, your heart was still racing, your mind replaying the concert over and over. That look, that smile... could it have been real? Could Jake really have noticed you in the midst of thousands of fans?

When you finally got home and collapsed into bed, exhaustion washed over you, but sleep didn’t come easily. Your phone lay on the pillow next to you, tempting you to open it again, when a notification chimes in

ding !

You open it to see the acc that followed you at the concert texting you.

@jakesim.official : Heyy !

@you : hello ? do I know you some how ?

@jakesim.official : Oh no no I saw you at the concert and thought you were really pretty so I wanted to tell you in person but I lost sight of you and suprisingly you popped up on my feed

@you : ohh ! thankyou that's really sweet of you

@jakesim.official : Its no biggie ! do you want to be friends you seemed really cool and I wanted to be friends with you :D

@you : ofcc! I would love to what's your name, I'm yn :)

@jakesim.official : I'm chris :D

@you : ooo thats a cool name

@jakesim.official : thankyou smm omg !!

That was it, the beggining of yours and chris's friendship. Weirdly chris's personality seemed awfully familiar but you brushed it off.

Which was your biggest mistake

Beacause on the other end there was no chris

But none other than jake sim himself.

two weeks ago...

Jake hadn’t thought much of the concert when they’d first stepped on stage. It was another performance in a long line of sold-out shows, another sea of faces blending together under the bright lights. He had done this hundreds of times before—sung the same songs, danced the same choreographies, and waved at fans who adored him from a distance. It was part of the job, something he was used to. The rush of adrenaline, the cheers, the glowing light sticks—it was a routine.

Until he saw her.

It was a brief moment, barely a second, but Jake felt it immediately. His eyes swept over the crowd as they always did, catching glimpses of fans waving signs or holding up their phones. And then he saw you. There was something about the way you stood there, completely mesmerized by him, that made you stand out from everyone else. He couldn’t explain it, but for the first time in a long time, he felt something shift inside him.His gaze lingered on you a little too long, but he didn’t care. There was something about your eyes, the way you looked at him, that made his heart beat faster. It wasn’t the usual fangirl excitement he was used to—it was something more. Something deeper.As he continued to perform, his focus kept drifting back to you. He couldn’t help it. No matter how many faces he saw, his eyes always found their way back to yours. And every time, the same feeling washed over him—desire, mixed with something darker, something more intense. He couldn’t shake it.

By the time the concert ended, Jake was restless. His thoughts were racing, his mind unable to let go of that moment, that look. Who were you? He needed to know. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch, a need that grew stronger with every passing second. As he stood backstage, the other members laughing and congratulating each other on another successful performance, Jake was lost in thought.

He knew he had to find you.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and without thinking, he opened the social media app, scrolling through fan posts tagged from the concert. It was second nature by now—idols often checked in to see what their fans were saying after shows, but tonight, Jake wasn’t looking for compliments or performance clips. He was looking for you.It took him a while, scrolling through countless posts and pictures, but then he saw it. A photo, posted just minutes ago. The username wasn’t one he recognized, but when he clicked on it, his breath caught in his throat.

It was you.

The photo showed you standing in front of the concert stage, holding an Enhypen lightstick high in the air. The crowd was visible in the background, the stage lights illuminating your figure. Jake could almost feel the excitement you had felt in that moment, the euphoria of being so close to the group you adored. But all he could focus on was you. You, standing there with that lightstick, looking so happy, so perfect.

As he scrolled through your posts, his obsession grew. Every picture, every comment—he devoured it all, learning about your life piece by piece. It wasn’t enough. He needed more. He needed to know everything about you. What you liked, what you disliked, where you lived. The more he saw, the deeper his desire sank into him, until it consumed every thought.But following you with his official account would be impossible. Enhypen didn’t have individual Instagram accounts—fans knew that. Their private accounts were carefully guarded, inaccessible to the public, and that’s how it had to stay. But Jake couldn’t let go of the need to see more of you. So, he created another account—a fan account, something that would blend in with the hundreds of others who adored him. He named it @JakeSim.official, a simple name that wouldn’t cause suspicion, and followed you from there.It was thrilling, in a way. You didn’t know. You had no idea that the person behind the harmless fan account was Jake himself, watching your every move. It gave him a sense of control, knowing he could see into your world without you realizing.

But it wasn’t enough.

The more he watched, the more his need for you grew. He found himself thinking about you constantly, replaying that moment during the concert when your eyes had met. He imagined what it would be like to talk to you, to hold you, to make you his. The thought of anyone else getting close to you made his blood boil. You were his. No one else’s. Late at night when everyone went to bed after an exhuasted day he was in his room jerking off to your photos. Oh you would take him so well. Fuck ,he needed to be inside you.

"Hyung where are you going" Jungwon asked.

"Oh just to take some fresh air I'll be back late" Jake replied. Liar

He wasn't going to get fresh air, he was going to your cafe because he knows you are working rn but jungwon does not needs to know that.

"Okay make sure not to get caught my dispatch" Jungwon said easily beliveing his lie.

"Will do" jake said and headed out.

Now was jake going to go inside the cafe and order a coffee like any other person ? Ofcourse not, instead he was gonna stand there behind the bushes observing you.

It was 10 pm which got jake excited.Why ? Because its your closing time. You bid last min goodbye to your friends and started walking towards home completely unaware jake was walking behind you. Jake needed to be quiet as discreet as possible. While walking you felt someone was walking behind you but you brushed it off. The night's still young and there are a lot of people on the street someone of them are probably going in the same direction as you.right ?

The distance from the cafe to your house wasn't much so you quickly reached home locking the doors relieved to be finally home after a long day. There was someone else relieved too. Jake. He finally knew where you lived and now he will do everything to pay you a visit everyday.

This went on for days where jake would somehow sneak out of the dorm and go to your house to watch you from afar occasionally sending in gifts at your cafe.

Until he couldn't take it anymore. Being far away from you. So he did what he wanted for so long.

He broke in your house. When you were sleeping.

Tiptoeing around in your room he saw you sleeping peacefully. Oh his heart ! how adorable you look rn. He carefully got down on his knees between your legs. No underwear. You're basically asking him to fuck you. With his mouth watering he gave your pussy a lick. Fuck you taste even better than he imagined. He dived his head right back in licking and sucking like his life depended on it.

All this made woke your body up like a jolt which caused jake to stop.

You horrifying look down to see the man you idolize actually being in between your legs.

Jake smirked. "Hi baby did I wake u up ?"

You on the other hand were frozen. You did not know what to do. Your mind was screaming at you to run run run away but the small part of you which is sick and twisted was encouraging you to stay there. This is what you always have dreamt of haven't you ?

"Cat got your tongue ?" Jake mocked. "Now don't pretend like you didn't like it, this is exactly what you have always wanted didn't you ? Nasty whore always fantazing about getting fucked by me now take what I give"

How did he know ? He isn't supposed to know that ? Fuck that he isn't supposed to know you at all.

Just as you're about to speak jake beat you to it "How did I know ? Now baby remember how they always say never trust strangers online ? You should have listened to them kitten"

Then it hit you. The concert, the timing of chris following you, the flowers at the cafe, it was all coming together like a puzzle.

"Yo-you are" You speak fumbling over your words

"Chris" Jake said smiling but that smile was evil.

"Now you have talked enough slut I can't wait anymore"

Before you can even process what he said, he was already out of his jeans and underwear.

Damn he was thick.

"Like what you see slut ?" Jake said cockily.

Jake held you down as he slowly put his tip in. You both moan together at the feeling. Without giving you much time to adjust he put himself in fully.

You winced loudly "ja-jake slow down please" he pleaded.

"Shut up you're gonna take exactly what I give you slut I've waited long enough" jake growled not slowing down.

You clenched at his words.

"Oh ? The slut likes it. Mine, mine, all mine" Jake growled.

The room was filled with moans and skin slapping.

You felt a knot forming in your stomach so you look at jake and said "j-jake I'm about to"

"Me too baby me too,let it go for me kitten"

And soon enough you both came together.

You lay down exhausted slowly losing yourself to sleep, the last thing you remember is jake wrapping his hands around you before you completely blacked out.

Finally. Jake had you, you were his now and no one is going to take you away from him.

Taglist :- @hazycottagedreams @faithnsstuff @jiryunie @sammie217 @yunhoswrldddd @engentiny @imnotyizhuo @selleprotection @woniefull @tinyteezer @s4mcore @strxwbloody @nyfwyeonjun @babygirlskz98 @jakeswifez @immelissaaa @wave2hoon @strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @whyme11 @nshmrarki @haechonly @d-dilemma @wondash @missnotsopretty @roslayy @m3wkledreamy

[peachypede]

Au: What if humans had pokemon types?

The idea struck me after seeing some of @bluebellowl ‘s art of Ingo and Emmet wielding flames and electricity and I was thinking ooo what if humans had typings.

Then I made an au with a bunch of headcanons…

More below the cut

(Almost forgot to add that I took some inspo from @critterbitter ‘s Elesa hairstyle because I love how they draw her hair in the back all spiky, electricy like in some of their drawing just yes)

- most humans are purely 1 type, but a rare person may have a dual typing. (Ingo and Emmet are dual types that cover their least publicly liked typing with their more favorable type)

- Some types are more stigmatized and feared than others for have abilities/features that are frightening: Bug, Ghost, Psychic, Poison and Dark types are the 5 most stigmatized groups.

- Most humans have very small or weak abilities, but some are capable of amazing feats.

- Humans tend to favor pokemon partners that share their typings since it’s easier to connect and communicate but some people do like opposite or different typings.

- When babies are born, they’re given a test to see what type they are so their parents will know how to handle their abilities.

- Each types abilities include:

Normal - Sadly, this typing doesn’t get much special abilities. They’re normal humans. A very, very rare normal type can send a hyper beam out of their mouth.

Fire - Can control small flames and are fire resistant. They can warm their bodies up to feverish temperatures without being sick. Some can breathe fire and have flame like hair. Fire types often have irrational fears of water.

Water - They can control small amounts of water. Their skin gets dried out easily and they have to take showers frequently or have humidifiers in their homes. A few individuals have gills that allows them to breathe fully underwater.

Grass - They can breathe life into plants and cause flowers to bloom. If they have a garden, they’ll produce giant and delicious fruit. Some can make plants move on their own, but this is a rare ability. When happy, a lot of grass-type people will sprout plants on their heads. Some even have plant like hair.

Electric - Able to cause small electric shocks and store bits of electricity. Can turn off and on appliances without touching them. Those who take time to learn can communicate with electric Pokémon using the electrical language all electric types know. They can also talk to humans in electric language who are electric types as well.

Ice - Freezing to the touch and tolerant to below zero temps. They can freeze the surface of water by touching their hand to it. They’re a rare type that hardly leave frosty mountain cities and towns because they’re prone to overheating in warmer weather.

Fighting - Stronger than other humans, but few reach true inhumane strength. Rare individuals have an extra set of arms like Machamp. Most take pride in their strength and hone their skills their entire lives.

Poison - Immune to poisons, some even have poisonous breath or saliva. Most of them have to wear masks around people who aren’t fellow poison types. Some individuals have multicolored skin, like frogs warning others that they’re dangerous. People of this type like steel types, because they can remove their masks for once around these people who are immune to them.

Ground - Can feel vibrations in the ground and if they learn, can properly use this as another sense of sight and see things underground. Rare individuals can make the ground shake and have long claws for digging. Some families are known for living underground where they feel more at ease.

Flying - they have a very keen eye for long distance sight. Lots of people with this type have wings. Not all can fly, since one needs large wings and hollow bones to do so, but some can. Most however are gliders. Some have feathers instead of body hair.

Psychic - People with this type usually have one “talent” ability, such as levitating objects or seeing the future. It’s rare for an individual to have more than one of these talents but it has happened before. They’re seen as power houses amongst the other types for their special abilities and usually are seen offering their services in exchange for coin.

Bug - They can attract a lot of bug type pokemon to them via pheromones and with practice, they can even control them. Like ants, bug types can talk through pheromones like alerting to danger, creating trails, or even just generally talking like electric types do (its not all just attracting mates although bugs are more likely to be attracted to other bug people) Grass types dislike the smell of bug types, whereas flying types get hungry around them. Rumor has it that bugs can control others through their pheromones but its just a rumor. Pheromones make it easy to persuade, but can’t truly control people.

Rock - They have skin as tough as rocks and most can dig through rock itself. Rare people look like a cluster of rocks themselves. They dislike water since it erodes away their skin, so they take mud baths and showers instead.

Ghost- Many can float above the ground and go through walls. Similar to ice types, They are cold to the touch. They can see ghost type pokemon even if they are invisible. Rare abilities are being able to see and commune with human spirits. (And only once a century is there an individual who has truly open eyes and can see the entire world of the dead walking amongst the living) People who fear this type spread rumors that ghost types are evil and can raise the dead to do their bidding, but these are only rumors.

Dragon - Noble types that are descended from long blood lines. A lot of individuals have scales and wings and claws. Rare ones can breathe fire. Once in every 100 years there will be a dragon-type who can communicate and wield their type’s pokemon with high efficiency, even mighty legendaries. Families of dragons can be very prideful and look down on other types. Noble families don’t like their children mingling or marrying other types.

Dark - A stigmatized group to the point that their typing is labeled as the “evil” type in some languages. Many have a bad luck effect on the people around them and some can sense disasters before they happen. Dark types often are lonely because of their bad luck charm abilities make other people wary of them.

Steel - Most in this group have skin that shines like a type of metal and are able to bend metals in their hands. They’re immune to poison and bug types abilities, and often are friends with these stigmatized types because of this.

Fairy - This group have small magical abilities and unluck the dark type, they have a lucky effect around them. Some individuals have wings, some have unnaturally colored hair. Fairies have a high social standings with other types because they’re thought to do nothing wrong, when fairies actually often have trouble makers in the midst of them taking advantage of this.

[peachsukii]

𝓲𝓷𝓴 & 𝓻𝓱𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓶 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

『 band au | strangers to lovers | slow burn 』 ✮ pairing. artist!reader x drummer!bakugo ✮ status. in progress ✮ rating. explicit (18+ themes) #✩.ink&rhythm + crossposted to AO3

✮ summary. Distortion is the hottest band in town, making waves in the underground scene with their unique sound. Led by your college best friend and music prodigy, Kyoka Jiro, alongside her misfit group of friends, they've been playing shows every weekend for the last few months and have gathered a decent following. You're whisked into the whirlwind of their rockstar lives when Jiro commissions you to design a band logo for their merch, reconnecting with her and meeting the members of the band. Your eyes immediately gravitate to their powerful drummer, Katsuki Bakugo. Fresh out of a nasty three year on/off relationship, he's not looking for anything or anyone while shutting out the world around him. He's focused on the one thing that keeps him sane; music. You're six months free of a breakup as well, looking to repaint your world with new colors and experiences, but turns out it's more tumultuous than anticipated. Explosive fights, newfound fame, clashing egos, dive bars, stolen kisses, black out dreams, messy exes and hard lessons; but somehow, love finds a way to bloom like a flower in the desert - deep in the hottest, driest wasteland of two broken hearts.

✮ tags & warnings. rock/punk/alt band au, slow burn, meet cute, strangers to lovers, various smut, smoking/drugs/alcohol consumption, talks of emotional & physical abuse from past partners, angst with a happy ending, emotional hurt/comfort, mild violence, mentions of cheating from past partners, miscommunications, jealousy, long distance, stalking, attempted sexual assault (not from bakugo or the bakusquad!), bakugo & reader suffer from relationship traumas (Camie & dabi are nasty exes), bakusquad are in a band, friend breakups & makeups

꒰ track list ꒱ ✩ Prelude: Holding onto Hope is a Different Kind of Pain ✩ Track One: Shine a Light into the Wreckage ✩ Track Two: Flowers Filled with Vitriol ✩ Track Three: Boulevard of (Broken?) Dreams ✩ Track Four: You Can Throw Me in the Deep End ✩ Track Five: Every Canvas that I Paint is a Masterpiece (of My Mistakes) ✩ Track Six: Band-Aids Don't Fix Bullet Holes ✩ Track Seven: Good Girls Stay Alive ✩ Track Eight: The End of Me, The End of Me ✩ Track Nine: If It Means A Lot To You ✩ Track Ten: Hand on the Throttle ✩ Bonus Track: We Are Distortion, 1-2-3-go!!

꒰ info ꒱ ✩ all characters are 24/25 years old ✩ reader co-owns an art gallery and has a BFA ✩ reader's artist alias is "glxtch" (glitch) ✩ bakugo drives a custom built orange & black Kawasaki Ninja ZX-6R ✩ relationships: momojiro, kirimina, ex-bakucamie, ex-dabi/reader

✩ band name: Distortion ✧ Kyoka Jiro | lead singer, electric guitar (Barista - Degree in Music Production) ✧ Denki Kaminari | electric guitar, backup vocals (Waiter) ✧ Eijiro Kirishima | bass, backup vocals (Bartender) ✧ Katsuki Bakugo | drummer, backup vocals (Bike Mechanic) ✧ Mina Ashido | keyboard, backup vocals (Makeup artist) ✧ Momo Yaoyorozu | band manager (Marketing assistant)

✩ vocal inspirations ✧ Kyoka Jiro ⇢  addie amick (halocene) ✧ Denki Kaminari ⇢  rory rodriguez (dayseeker) ✧ Eijiro Kirishima ⇢  tim mcilrath (rise against) ✧ Katsuki Bakugo ⇢  eric vanlerberghe & acoustic (i prevail - harsh vocals) ✧ Mina Ashido ⇢  maggie lindemann

꒰ mood board ꒱

✩ pinterest board ✩

꒰ playlist ꒱

✩ wanna join the ink & rhythm taglist? sign up here! ✩ ♡ last updated // 08.09.24 dividers, banners & moodboard by taurus-magicka/peachsukii

[annabelle--cane]

what’s the slit verse about. like gimme the pitch (if you wanna)

so you know how in greek myths gods sometimes turn people into flowers or trees or animals as a kind of blessing? and when you think about it, that's kind of horrific? imagine being a devotee of an all-powerful god and, maybe, if you're good enough, in your hour of need your god will rend your flesh and turn you into some bloody and hideous creation.

this is the world of the silt verses, where there are gods of trains, electricity, coffee, hunger, breakfast cereal, marketing strategies, etc., and all of these gods must feed. you can turn on your local radio station and hear the dj slowly sacrificing himself to the Daily Grind by depriving himself of sleep until his heart gives out, if your workplace is going through a rough patch then they might immolate a group of their lowest performers as part of a rebranding ritual to connect with a new patron deity, and religious practices are strictly regulated by the government.

our protagonists, sister carpenter and brother faulkner, are followers of an outlawed river god on a standard pilgrimage of their faith. carpenter is kind of a living legend in their practice but her faith is shaking, while faulkner is young and zealous and on a mission to prove himself as truly devoted. hopefully they don't kill each other!

[tobyscloset]

Some of my chaos theory/benrius headcanons ^_^

– Ben can play the guitar like REALLY well, electric and bass. Mostly playing some of his favourite songs (Ben has dad music taste, convince me otherwise. I bet £20 he has the Beatles, David Bowie, Queen, Foo fighters etc on his playlist.)

– Darius goes fishing once in a while, and can name out some species of fish. Some. Other times he'll just go; “okay, that one's blue.. and that one is blueish-green..” so whenever someone asks about a certain type of fish he goes; “Yes! That's the blue guy!” In a confident tone.

– due to Darius isolating himself, Ben visits frequently, bringing him food and constant gifts (flowers, chocolate etc)

– Darius just getting his driver's licence. Whilst Ben has been driving for years. And Ben constantly makes fun of him for being a “rookie” at driving, in a good way though.

– Darius got Ben that T-rex smeller that Ben has on his rear view mirror.

– Ben has road rage. He hates slow drivers, and he gets mad when he can't parallel park properly. Constantly screaming when something bad happens on the road. He hates traffic too.

– Ben Definitely goes to the gym!! Darius sometimes joins him, but Ben goes on a routine. Big Ben indeed.

– Darius tries his best not to swear, like at all. but sometimes it slips out when he stubs his toe or drops something, he'll let out a loud “FUCK!”. Ben on the other hand has absolutely no issues swearing (especially when it comes to driving.)

– Ben still has that headband from Nublar – he sometimes wears it out, and the same with the fanny pack.

– Uncharacteristic of Darius, but he has tried alcohol at least once 😭

– Ben being one of the shortest during Nublar – to being one of the tallest. And be brags about it constantly.

– Darius not keeping in contact with the rest of campfam due to isolation, so the group goes to him instead, keeping him company and comfort and even staying over sometimes, Brooklynn is the one who stays over the most. (They are the duo ever convince me differently)

[sonic-fankid-showdown]

Poll 26, Round 1.

About Tulip: (by @silvers-starrway) Tulip comes from a doomed timeline, one where everything went horribly wrong. They don’t remember much of where they came from, only that after wishing to be somewhere else they were whisked away through time. They ended up in Silver’s future where the timeline had been saved. Silver ends up finding them in the tulip patch of his garden and ends up naming them after the flower. Tulip is about 50% organic and 50% robot. They still need to eat, though only in small quantities (their favorite food is oranges). They do not need to sleep, instead recharging via an electric plug in the back of their head. They are only able to talk with beeps and other electronic noises. Shadow ends up teaching them morse code and that’s how they communicate with the world. Despite looking like a strange combo of Shadow and Silver’s features, Tulip has no biological connection to either. It’s just a strange coincidence. Tulip has the ability to manipulate probabilities, they aren’t aware of this power but it’s the main reason why they ended up in Shadow and Silver’s timeline.

About Sunshine: (by @yellowvixen) Sunshine pops into existence one day after Sonic and Shadow go super together, seemingly out of nowhere! Turns out she's made of pure chaos energy, but her only powers are glowing and floating a little bit - no matter! She makes up for it in cheerfulness and really lives up to her name. Raising her is a group effort, as her dads are only in their early 20s when she appears and are woefully unprepared for looking after a baby. She spends a great deal of her early life on Angel Island and considers Knuckles and Amy to be parents too. (Tails, Rouge and Omega fall into the fun aunt/uncle category). Surprisingly, she inherits none of her dads' trauma and grows up as a pretty normal kid, despite being made of chaos energy!

[falafelluva]

Hi!! Zoë,, i was thinking about a Kenan × rival(club) sister reader. It would be awesome if you can make it as a smau soft launch. But it's totally fine as normal fic.

Thank you xoxo~~

; 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐃 - 𝘬.𝘺𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘻 ✮

summary: when a juve player and AC Milan player’s sister find luv xx #twoworldscollide

warnings: not a warning but to the anon who sent in a request with a flower emoji and something with that my fics make them giggle pls resend it because my phone glitched and it got deleted n now I feel bad 😞😞💔!

author’s note: hellurrr, mind u I have no idea how to make a smau so I just mixed a fic and that shizzle tg😔, I just chose tijjani because I’m Dutch and he’s like the only player I like from AC Milan💔 this is so bad pls

It all started on a chilly afternoon in Milan, where the air was thick with excitement. You were at a local café with your brother, Tijjani Reijnders, grabbing a warm drink before the AC Milan vs. Juventus match. The atmosphere was electric, filled with anticipation and chatter about the fierce rivalry between the two clubs.

As you sipped your cappuccino, you spotted a group of Juventus fans at a nearby table, wearing their black and white jerseys, their laughter and cheers ringing out. You rolled your eyes playfully at Tijjani. “Can you believe these guys?”

Tijjani chuckled, shaking his head. “They think they stand a chance against us, grappenmakers” (comedians..?)

Just then, a familiar face caught your eye among the Juventus fans—Kenan Yildiz. He was sitting with his teammates, his bright smile evident even from a distance. Your heart raced slightly. You’d heard plenty about him through Tijjani, but seeing him in person was another story. He looked so effortlessly cool, and there was a charm about him that drew you in.

As if sensing your gaze, Kenan turned and caught your eye. He smiled warmly, waving just slightly. You felt a blush creeping onto your cheeks and returned the gesture, not expecting the flutter in your stomach.

Later, as you all walked to the stadium, you found yourself trailing behind Tijjani and his friends, who were deep in conversation about the game. You couldn’t help but steal glances at Kenan, who was animatedly talking to his teammates. His enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself wishing for an excuse to talk to him.

The match was intense, with both teams playing fiercely, and the energy in the stadium was electric. You cheered for AC Milan, your loyalty never wavering. But every time Kenan touched the ball, you felt a strange mix of admiration and excitement.

ynreijnders

San Siro Stadium

Liked by tijjanireijnders, ardaguler and 12,389 others

ynreijnders when in Milan🫶🏽🖤❤️

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ardaguler Baba Kenanım

↳ ynreijnders mama an arda behind you💜

tijjanireijnders mooie foto (van mij)🙌🏽

↳ ynreijnders im gonna touch u

iamrafaelleao smooth

↳ ynreijnders go take care of ur kids NOW, love tho x

ynreijnders uploaded to their story

↳ kenanyildiz_official replied to your story: won’t be saying that next game🫡😂

↳ ynreijnders me when i lie

↳ kenanyildiz_official oh? lying to me already😞

↳ ynreijnders I love lying to men

The conversation flowed naturally, filled with playful teasing about the rivalry. You both had developed a rhythm of friendly banter that kept you engaged and smiling, and you looked forward to his messages.

Days turned into weeks, and your texts became a routine. Kenan would send you updates on his training and jokes about the latest games, and you shared snippets of your daily life. The chemistry continued to build as you got to know each other more, and you could feel the tension simmering beneath the surface.

ynreijnders uploaded to their story

↳ kenanyildiz_official replied to your story: we should get coffee together

↳ ynreijnders I don’t like coffee.. sorry (when?)

↳ kenanyildiz_official funny😂 tomorrow, I’ll let you know.

When the next day arrived, you felt a mix of excitement and nerves. You chose a cute café that was just outside the city, a neutral ground away from the rivalry and the spotlight of both teams. When you arrived, you spotted Kenan waiting at a table, a nervous smile on his face.

“Hey!” you greeted, your heart racing as you approached him.

“Hey, I’m glad you could make it,” he replied, a hint of relief washing over his features.

As you sat down, the conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and shared stories. Kenan was charming, his playful side shining through as you discussed everything from football to your favorite movies. You both shared a love for the sport, but more importantly, you found a connection that transcended the game itself.

Over coffee, you found yourselves leaning closer, sharing inside jokes and playful banter. With every shared smile and laughter, you felt the walls between you begin to crumble.

ynreijnders

Liked by tijjanireijnders, kenanyildiz_official and 13,379 others

ynreijnders got served coffee while I served face, the last slide is AI generated 🤍

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tijjanireijnders who is that🫨

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ardaguler BABA

↳ ynreijnders this is why ur benched.

user IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS?

↳ ynreijnders me being sexy? ofc silly 😕🫶🏽

The weeks that followed were filled with more dates, each one bringing you closer together. Whether it was grabbing coffee, going for walks, or cheering on your teams from opposite ends, every moment was filled with laughter and warmth.

Kenan’s shy side began to fade away, and you loved seeing him open up more with each passing day. He would surprise you with small gestures—a random text to check in, a sweet message about the match.

As your connection deepened, you found yourselves in those blissful moments of simply enjoying each other’s company. You both knew the dynamic of your relationship was a delicate balance, given the fierce rivalry between your teams, but it only added to the excitement.

kenanyildiz_official

liked by karlotta.nila, ynreijnders and 571k others

kenanyildiz_official Debut night in the Champions League and couldn’t have asked for a better start! Man of the match and a win for the team. Onwards and upwards!⚽️🏆

Notte di debutto in Champions League e non avrei potuto chiedere un inizio migliore! Migliore in campo e vittoria per la squadra. Avanti e in alto!⚽️🏆

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ynreijnders did you use google translate for that

↳ kenanyildiz_official I can say something right now that will piss you off but I won’t

↳ tijjanireijnders 🤔🤨🧐

ardaguler ynnımmm

As your connection deepened, you found yourselves in those blissful moments of simply enjoying each other’s company. You both knew the dynamic of your relationship was a delicate balance, given the fierce rivalry between your teams, but it only added to the excitement.

One day, while you were sitting together at a café once again, sipping on your drinks, Kenan suddenly turned serious.

“I know it’s a bit unconventional, given our teams, but I really like you. I mean, a lot,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly.

You felt your heart race, a smile spreading across your face. “I like you too, Kenan. I never expected to feel this way, but here we are,” you replied, your voice soft but genuine.

He laughed, relief washing over him. “Good. I was worried it was just me being crazy,” he admitted, his playful demeanor returning.

ynreijnders

liked by karlotta.nila, virgilvandijk and 122k others

ynreijnders the pics vs the photographer

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tijjanireijnders ??

↳ ynreijnders love u

ardaguler baba

karlotta.nila 😍😍

↳ user and the crowd looks.. confused??

kenanyildiz_official that’s a bad picture

↳ ynreijnders rude much

ynreijnders, kenanyildiz_official

liked by kenanyildiz_official, juventus and 218k others

ynreijnders happy birthday kebap boy, I love u so much and I love stalking you xx😇

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juventus happy birthday Kenan!⭐️

kenanyildiz_official thank you güzel🤍🫶🏻

↳ kenanyildiz_official wait

↳ kenanyildiz_official why would you post that😞

tijjanireijnders ❤️🫡

ardaguler kenanım

user I knew it

[luvvyouforever]

headcanons : matt murdock x mutant/superpowered!reader

content: fluff, some plot, smut at the very end.

a/n: i didn't mean to write this much, oops! i tried not to be very specific when describing powers, but it's a little hard not to! you can imagine anything you want to though!!! enjoy <3

ꫂৎ the first time he meets you is entirely accidental. there's fighting, he hears it on patrol, and runs to it. just a few feet before turning the corner, he pauses because he smells, he feels something different in the air. it's not the usual smell of blood and concrete and sweat. it's electric, or perhaps sweet, or something else entirely that doesn't usually come from fighting.

ꫂৎ he comes closer and notices that one person is fighting off three people and winning. in his fiery, blurred vision, he can make out an unnatural force pushing people back that's coming out of someone's hands. a hero, a mutant, a vigilante like him.

ꫂৎ without thinking, he runs forward and takes down someone who was attempting to grab you from behind. shocked, you turn and almost knock him back with whatever your power is. when you see that he helped you, you whisper a thanks.

"you have powers," he says matter-of-factly.

you nod then flex your hands which shake from the after-effects of your power flowing through you. "thanks for uh...," you gesture to the unconscious body behind you.

"don't worry about it."

before you can edge in another word, he runs off, leaving you to stand awestruck in an alleyway.

ꫂৎ the next time you meet him, he's out of daredevil form and in his charming, red glasses, lawyer form. it's something so simple like a coffee shop meet-cute or bumping into each other on the street, but he recognizes you immediately. you, of course, have no idea who he is.

ꫂৎ it feels surreal to him to see you so normal when he knows that your veins flow with some kind of power that he's dying to learn more about. quite shamelessly, he flirts with you, invites you to get a drink with him, or get lunch together. he has to know more.

ꫂৎ you definitely start going on dates more often and he certainly makes it a point to "bump" into you quite regularly. as for his night time activities, he's always searching for that same feeling of electricity in the air that comes from you. however, he doesn't find it anymore and assumes that it was a one-time thing, that you don't frequently go out searching for trouble like him.

ꫂৎ if you're an x-man or avenger or a part of another some kind of group, i'd like to think that on one of these dates you're going on, you get a call requesting your immediate presence for a mission. you'd rather quickly stand up, knocking the table into his middle, apologize, and ask for another date later. of course, he heard the call and he'd be searching for you later, knowing you were off doing some dangerous task. he worried, but when you eventually went on another date, he could tell you were bruised and that one of your ribs seemed to be just a little out of place.

ꫂৎ matt eventually asks you to be his partner not necessarily because he wants to know more about your powers, but because he genuinely likes you a lot now. he's such a gentleman to you, drops flowers off at your apartment before he goes into the office, and offers to pay for your dinners when he's busy with "work" at night.

ꫂৎ i think you would figure out he's the daredevil before he knows the extent of your powers. i imagine that one night you stay the night in his apartment while he says he's stuck at work with foggy and karen, but then he comes stumbling in, half-conscious and in dire need of medical assistance.

matt's satin sheets envelop you in his bed as you wait late into the night for him to come home. he promised you that it was okay for you to spend the night and wait around for him rather than asking you to walk back late at night.

suddenly, you hear the door open, a coat rack fall, and a cup fall to the ground, shattering loudly. with panicked movements, you jump out of bed and enter the living room. matt fell to the couch, groaning and clutching his side. he was dressed in a dark black outfit with a bandana wrapped around his eyes and despite him looking attractive, you can't ignore his bleeding wounds and obvious agony.

"what the fuck, matt?" you whisper-yell. he tears off the bandana and his eyes meet yours with shock. he tries to turn away and deny your help, but the movement causes far too much pain in his side.

"first-aid kit," he manages to get out. "bathroom."

hurriedly, you grab the kit and come back. he's trying to peel his shirt away from his chest but he can't. his hands grope around for the scissors in the kit and when he finds them, he places them in your shaking palm.

"i'll walk you through it."

ꫂৎ after he's safe and patched up, you interrogate him about everything. his senses, his vigilante behaviors, his past, his inner-workings. he openly tells you anything you want to know. after a few beats of silence between you in which you help him into bed, he asks you a question about your powers.

ꫂৎ you hadn't even known that he was the one to save you that night and you had an even fainter idea that he knew about your powers. you asked the questions he had as well and offered to show him what all you could do. he sat up on the bed, looking vaguely in your direction, as you showed off the abilities you had that coarsed through your body. he was in awe and the familiar smell from so long ago invaded his nose again. after that, nothing was kept hidden from either of you.

ꫂৎ you're totally a crime-fighting badass duo. he's all strength and physicality and senses while you are mystical and powerful, though not as stealthy. you spar together regularly so matt can gain experience fighting against powers and you can improve your physical fighting skills.

ꫂৎ matt never doubts your abilities or strength. if anything, he's your biggest fan. he knows you can take on big bads and robbers alike, but he's too much of a gentleman to let you fight people on your own. he will, however, step in and take someone down if they're being disrespectful to you in any way.

ꫂৎ if you are a part of some hero group, he would be secretly so nervous to meet them for the first time. on the outside, he's his usual witty and charming self, but inside he's worried that they won't like him or accept it which will create complications in your relationship.

below are some more niche/specific headcanons for different powers that reader might have:

ꫂৎ super strength: is always a little shocked when you pick up something extremely heavy. once, you two were out roaming the city as heros/vigilantes and when you two needed a quick exit, there happened to be a large dumpster blocking the way. he quickly tried to pivot but stopped once he could tell the dumpster was now 40 feet down the alleyway.

ꫂৎ elemental: oh my goodness, loves when you show it off outside of an actual need to use it. like, for example, taking a warm bath together and shaping the water into little creatures or creating beautiful flower beds or just playing with it while laying in bed late at night.

ꫂৎ magic wielding: has the most questions about this one. wants to know the full extent of your powers and if you don't even know, he finds it that much cooler. if you imagine having powers that are easily corruptible, matt will always be there to bring you back to earth and remind you of the good things in life.

bonus! small nsfw headcanons mdni

ꫂৎ. is most certainly not above using each other's abilities on the other. he's constantly listening to your heart rate to tease you, to bring you just close enough to the edge, and then pull away. he can tell when you're feeling the best and just knows what you need that night based on his senses. it's a little unfair to say you can't use your ability on him.

ꫂৎ if anything, he likes it! a lot. he's the more dominant person in the bedroom, but he enjoys a fight for it and certainly doesn't mind needing to manage a stronger person when he's in the mood for it. push him down onto the bed and don't let him get up. use some magical manipulation to tie him down. speed around him while he's trying to pin you down. he lives for it.

ꫂৎ. if you have some kind of suit, he likes running his hands along the material, feeling your body underneath, and expertly imagining the shape in his head. he especially enjoys suits if they're the tight spandex that's been molded to your body. if you're not hurt, when you come back that night, the suit will be on the floor, or perhaps left on.

[materlux]

Werifesteria.

Werifesteria: (v.) To wander longingly through the forest in search of mystery.

The esteemed doctor Veritas Ratio, finds himself intrigued by the old technology of a post-post-apocalyptic planet. He finds more than he beckoned for, but on the bright side, he has a new personal student.

CW: Monster!Reader, is Ratio's attitude a warning? Fluff-ish?

Honkai Star Rail | Main Masterlist

This planet had experienced a catastrophic incident many amber eras ago, this has left its remaining life forms cut off from the rest of the cosmos. The people of this planet are, what the Genius Society would label, primitive. They do not understand the giant metal structures left behind by their forefathers, they have no knowledge of the aeons, or of the place they once occupied in the vast universe. To put it simply, it’s like someone pressed the ‘reset’ button on their civilization.

   So of course the Intelligentsia Guild sent a group of researchers there, if these people were primitive it opened up an opportunity for the whole of the IPC, but first they wanted their own proof.

   The information about the trip and the planet itself spread like wildfire, every researcher was talking about it, and it wasn’t long before the students caught on to the chatter. Dr. Ratio was getting increasingly annoyed having to listen to the same boring discourse surrounding the trip, now not even his own classroom was a quiet place.

   It would, however, be a lie to say the famed doctor wasn’t at least a little intrigued, but this kind of trip lent itself more to the social and psychological sciences, not the mathematical ones. So colour him surprised when an invitation to join the group lands on his desk, he wasn’t planning on going, but the invite only made him all the more curious.

   So here he was, along with 9 others, touching down on the planet’s surface just outside a large town. They were prepared for the locals to be hostile, but they were quite welcoming, offering shelter and food.

   The other researchers quickly found their niche of work useful, and started noting down the locals' behaviours. But Ratio was still unsure of his purpose on this trip, but having read up on the planet’s previous inhabitants came with an idea: He was here to learn and understand the ancient art of floating cities, ones that once filled the sky of this planet.

   Using the advanced technology at his fingertips, he searches for some sort of electric output, at first he only picks up the ship and nothing else. As days go by he expands the search area, closely analysing any signal no matter how weak. On the last day of the first week, he picks up a faint signal, not as strong as the ships, but not as weak as the other flukes.

   The signal pings on his small screen, it’s coming from within the depths of a dense forest. The locals warn him of ghosts and monsters, he simply ignores them, primitive species always believe in superstitions, but the truth is that these occurrences can be explained using science.

   Small ghosts gather along the path he follows, some begin to trail after him, he ignores them, they’re clearly harmless. But you certainly aren’t, sitting far above him in the canopy surrounded by ghosts, you are entirely absorbed in the vibrant colour of his hair, it reminds you of something, a flower.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

   The water is cold against your skin and soaks into your fur, the water ripples gently as you move about, plucking purple flowers from the water. You gather a couple of the otherwise large flowers, you hope the man with vibrant hair will accept this offering of friendship, it’s what the townspeople do.

   The figure that emerges from the bushes halts its movements, it takes a moment for Ratio to comprehend the scene before him, but he swiftly turns his head away from your naked back. You look up at the noise, tilt your head curiously, water swishes around your legs as you manoeuvre up the bank.

   Dr. Ratio refuses to look at you, human or not it is ungentlemanly to ogle at you, clearly you were not expecting company at this time, whoever you were. Something wet drips onto his clothing, and an extra weight is added to his head. You gently adjust the flowers in his hair, leaning back to look him over.

   As much as the doctor intended to be a gentleman, he can’t help but look at you, completely perplexed, what even are you? He pulls the flowers from his hair, you wait with baited breath for his response. He looks them over and grimaces at the water coating his hands and damping his hair, he holds flowers back out to you. You accept them, this means he accepts your friendship, right?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

   Ratio came out here in search of old machinery in the hopes of furthering his knowledge of physics, and to maybe one day mimic the genius of the forefather to this planet. He was not expecting to have company on this search, the small ghosts were easy to ignore; their small, quiet and low to the ground. You, on the other hand, were taller, noisier, and somehow always ended up right in front of his face.

   His patience, which many would say he already lacked, was running thin. You weren’t getting in per say, but you were far too curious for your own good, this led the doctor to conclude: You must be the apex predator around here.

   For a moment the doctor sat down to rest on a log, you however took this chance to poke at him, not metaphorically, but literally. Ratio prides himself in his intelligence and ability to learn with ease, but you perplexed him, and he hated it. Your hands always seemed to find their to his hair, gentle as you were, you pulled and moved the strands around.

   The doctor could not for the life of him, figure out you found so fascinating about his hair, you had your own. Upon closer inspection your hair appeared to be matted in some places, and full of leaves and what not.

   Any chance you got, you added flowers to his hair, you were starting to run out of flowers to offer him. You had hoped he would have liked at least one of them, but he pulled every single one back out. The small ghosts offer little consolation, they find and hand you any small buds you haven’t tried yet.

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   Giant metal structures, ruins overgrown, rise out of the ground before him. The signal is close by now, it must be hidden within. Ratio walks a round outside the structure, considering ways in and the best course of action to find the object emitting the small pulse.

   You observe him from above on the structure, you don’t understand the words he mutters to himself, in your defence he doesn’t exactly use simple words. He walks into the structure, disappearing into the darkness, only a few minutes later does re-emerge. He mutters more words to himself as he looks over his screen and back up to the structure.

   Later in the evening you manoeuvre your way into one of the upper levels of the structure, within the maze of corridors and fallen metal, you have your nest. In your nest lies an object, it’s mechanical in nature and emits a faint glow, you keep it because it’s pretty.

   You look at the object in the early morning light, perhaps the vibrant haired man doesn’t like flowers, but other gifts. You have seen the townspeople give each other objects instead of flowers, this appears to yield the same result, companionship.

   Dr. Ratio looks at the screen as the signal begins to move, it should not under any circumstance do that, it’s a piece of ancient machinery. A loud thud is followed by you figure less than gracefully making it down to the ground, he looks you over, you smile like the locals do, but your smile is all sharp teeth. You hold out the glowing object, and Ratio nearly drops his jaw on the ground, he takes it carefully, inspecting it, he doesn’t offer it back.

   You tilt your head and with your limited vocabulary, you ask: “Like?” He nods offhandedly, before his head snaps up to look at you. You gently clap your hands in glee, he likes it, you made a friend.

   “You can talk?” He asks, you tilt your head again, you look akin to a lost dog. You nod hesitantly, some words elude you, but based on what you remember the right answer is yes.

   “And your name is?” He looks at you expectantly, you however understand some of those words, you feel like a big question mark.

   “Name?” You ask back, a name, you don’t have a name you think, you don’t remember having one.

   “Yes a name,” Ratio continues, “like my own.” You only continue to tilt your head.

   “My name is doctor Veritas Ratio.” You are stumped.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

   You follow your new companion around the forest, Ratio attempts to teach you his name, you only call him ‘doctor’ so far, good enough he decides. By the edge of the forest you stop, the townspeople don’t like you, that’s why you stay in the forest it’s safer. But the doctor pays these primitive locals little mind, and continues onward to the ship, you don’t want to lose your new companion. So mustering up all your courage you follow him.

   The other researchers find you fascinating, you are quite overwhelmed by all the attention. Ratio gets special permission to leave the planet’s surface and instead board the larger ship orbiting the planet, you were not meant to join him, but it appears the great doctor has made an oversight.

   You curl yourself up by a window and observe the stars, the doctor leaves you to your devices, you seem unbothered by the fact you are floating in outer space. He notes down questions he has for you, or rather about you, he wonders if it would be possible to teach you the basics of mathematics. It would certainly be a challenge, but who better from the Intelligensia Guild to take on such a challenge, than the esteemed doctor Ratio.

[marlsswrites]

Summer camp AU, part 27!!

July 27th <3

Pressure - @jegulus-microfic - words: 517

First part Previous part

Regulus admittedly found it quite funny how into the game James was, it was adorable. The two had just finished setting up everything to play capture the flag with their group, when June suggested he and James joined in. Regulus didn't want to, but James wanted to, and his eyes were so convincing...

So here they were, Regulus on one side, James walking away from him slowly. Both eyed each other up, James most definitely looking more excited for this than Regulus was. He didn't even know how to play capture the flag!

"You're going down."

"Am I?" Regulus lowered his voice, smirking playfully as James - still facing him - walked further backwards.

The older hummed. "No pressure!" He chirped before jogging away.

-

Around three games later, everyone was knackered. Capture the flag in thirty degree British sun was not a good idea, Regulus was sure his skin was pinker than a pigs at this point. The kids seemed to finally shut up, the same with James actually. But Regulus had grown quite fond of his voice, sadly. God, what has he become?

He stood by the water tap, filling up his bottle with ice cold water, some of which he just splashed onto his face.

Water bottle filled, flushed, freckled face cooled down, he approached the only person here he actually cared to be in the presence of.

“Hi.” He smiled as he reached James. The older man had his legs sprawled out on the grass, plucking crisp, neat daisies from the floor and braiding them into a small chain that he ran his hands over.

Regulus was tired, knackered, absolutely exhausted, so he just dropped to the floor, his head on James’ tanned legs and his legs slight bent into a v shape on the refreshingly cold grass.

“Oh-“ James gasped. “Hi.”

Looking up through his thick eyelashes, he saw James was now propped up on his elbows, peering down at Regulus with dilated pupils and a tilt of his head on which placed his grinning face.

“Tired?” Chuckling, the brunette plucked another daisy from the soil.

Regulus hummed out a response, eyes trainer on James’ side profile and sharp yet sweet jawline as he turned his head to pick more flowers from the floor.

“What’re you doing?” Reaching his hand out, Regulus rain the daisy chain in James’ hands through his own. Their hands seemed to produce electricity as they touched, Regulus was sure they’d spark up any minute now, because James Potters touch was just so scarily powerful.

“Making daisy chains.” James smiled sweetly, gaze clearly flicking down to Regulus’ hand that was still almost in his. “Lil taught me how to, it helps with my ADHD, keeps my hands busy.” He continued.

Regulus listened, he nodded against James’ legs and heard the clips and huffs of James breath. He exhaled, finally letting himself go and just sitting in the comfort that was James Potter. The comfort that was James’ hands on his hair, now starting to place small daisies in his black curls.

Everything around him was a blur, insignificant, everything except James.

Next part

[urdrowning]

Hi :)

If you are taking requests, could you please do a Leah oneshot?

Maybe one where reader is really famous (a singer/model/actress/or whatever) and her and Leah have been dating for a while in secret. And Leah’s teammates are suspicious of who’s she’s always spending time with or texting.

Also if you could, could you include Leah introducing reader to them?

Could be England or Arsenal teammates. Or both lol.

Thank you :))

AN - tysm for the request !! i kinda got lazy at the end cause i caught covid while writing LMAO. i don’t really like the ending. MAYBEEEE i have a part two in mind of a soft launch.. maybe i don’t..

superstar / l. williamson

celebrity relationships are always awkward. when you’re under constant spotlight, it can be hard to settle down. finding someone who actually loves you for yourself, and not for your status isn’t easy. so that’s why you truly believe yourself to be the luckiest of the bunch.

leah williamson, your diamond in the rough.

you met leah at the BRIT awards in 2022. the minute you made eye contact with her brilliant blue eyes, electricity coursed its way through the both of you. the two of you spent the entire night together, getting to know each other. sat on tables next to each other, conversing through the speeches and nominations.

“if you win this award, i’ll take you on a date.”

she smirks at you and you’re taken aback. you’ve been so caught up in her presence that you didn’t realise that your section was up. you and your band have been nominated for the best upcoming artist award (tbh idk if this is a thing. if it’s not, pretend it is) before you even know it, the announcer has taken the stage and begins to announce the winner.

“and the winner of the best upcoming artist award is..”

you can barely even comprehend what they are saying, you’re rather distracted by leah’s hand, as she moves it to discreetly hold yours under the table. you’re in a blur as the announcer continues and you don’t even hear who wins. but, judging by how your band mates have all stood-up and look like they’ve won the lottery, you’ve got a pretty decent bet. you get hoisted up by your band mates as you walk on stage for the group’s acceptance speech. you let your band mates do the talking, as you’re too dazed to even think. (this very much goes viral in with your fans. your ‘fish out of water look’ is now a fan favourite meme)

despite suffering from equally massive hangovers, she’s true to her word, leah took you out on a date the following night. even though it was a small date at the arcade, you would probably still consider it one of your most fondest memories. on your third date, you kissed her. then, on the following night, she showed up on your doorstep, flowers in hand, asking you to be her girlfriend.

your one year anniversary together is approaching and the two of you are still as inseparable as you were when you first met. despite not being together for long, the both of you are unable to picture a future without the other in it.

leah is a private person, as are you. you both agreed to keep your relationship quiet and between yourselves. but, with your relationship approaching it’s first milestone, the both of you are getting restless. neither your family nor your friends are aware of your relationship.

how you’ve managed to keep it a secret from your band mates is a mystery of scooby doo fame. especially since you literally share an apartment with one of them. you consider your band mates your own found family, your forever bestfriends. each of you have been best friends since secondary school, and clearly, have been inseparable since. ironically, you’re all major football enthusiasts as well. you and your band mates are die hard lioness fans, even attending the euro’s competition in support (again, it’s a mystery how they didn’t find out. leah wouldn’t stop smiling at you in the crowd) leah struggled as well, her teammates are getting suspicious. the way she hides her phone from them as she giggles at it when you text.

“you’re seeing someone, aren’t you.”

leah’s head shoots up from her phone at the voice, only to be met with a suspicious looking keira walsh. looking at her with an accusatory stare.

“w.. what are you talking about?”

leah stutters out in an attempts to deny it all, but keira can see right through her, and is determined to get the truth out.

“don’t pretend leah, i know somethings up.”

leah sighs and looks down, avoiding kiera’s glare. she shrugs her shoulders lightly and appears similar to a child who’s got caught breaking the rules. she then reluctantly and awkwardly mutters

“yeah, i guess i’ve being seeing someone..”

keira’s stern gaze breaks as she excitedly sits down next to her friend and grabs her arms, flinging her about as she rapidly fires questions at her.

“who is it? what are they like? how long have you guys been together? are you being safe?”

leah looks mortified. she’s getting overwhelmed with the amount of questions that are being fired at her.

“keira, for gods sake, slow down! we’ve been together for almost a year now, and she treats me well.”

keira pauses her movements, looking at leah with her mouth agape.

“.. a YEAR?? who is she?”

——

“i’m so sorry, babe. i didn’t mean for this.”

leah feels incredibly guilty. she stares at you through the phone screen after relaying the earlier events to you. you’ve been quiet since she started telling you, appearing to be lost in thought. after leah’s fifth apology, it seems you snap out of your trance and smile at her.

“leah, honey, breathe. it’s okay, i’m not mad. it’s about time we started telling people.”

you truly mean it, you honestly feel quite relieved that she made the first move in telling her teammates, as you’ve been fairly close to cracking the news to your band mates yourself.

the thought of telling your band mates makes you nervous, you don’t know why. there’s nothing bad about your relationship. it’s not like you’re dating someone 29 years younger than you (looking at you, leo dicaprio) besides, they are lioness fans themselves and would most likely be elated at the news of you dating their team captain.

“i know, but i should’ve talked with you before-hand.”

leah secretly is filled with relief as well, she no longer has to hide her love from her friends. but it doesn’t make her feel any better about how she told them.

“you’re talking to me about it now, i think that’s enough.”

she shakes her head lightly, fighting off a smile. you always manage to cheer her up, no matter what. it’s as if you have super powers.

“i would’ve told you sooner, but keira’s loudmouth blabbed it to the rest of the team. i’ve been questioned all night.”

the minute she had free time, she’d facetimed you straight away. after she found out who leah was dating, keira’s shocked exclamation of your name definitely didn’t go unheard. her england teammates had hounded her with question after question about you and your relationship together.

you’re about to reply to her before she lets out a yawn. you check the time and realise it’s late into the night.

“go rest, sleepy. i’ll talk to rory and get her to speak to my other band mates for me. i’ll speak to you in the morning, okay? love you.”

she smiles at you sleepily as she mumbles

“love you too, goodnight..”

you end the call and take a deep breathe as you prepare to face your bandmate/roommate, rory. you and her have been inseparable for years. you always planned on telling her first out of your friends and family, you have the utmost trust for her and you’re hoping she’ll be understanding and not upset at you for hiding your relationship from her. you exhale slowly as you get up from your bed and knock on her door.

——

leah 💗:

‘my teammates want to meet you x’

the text almost instantaneously shoots anxiety through your veins. despite being a big fan of them, meeting leah’s teammates is an incredibly daunting thing. they intimidate the hell out of you.

y/n 🤍:

leah 💗:

‘baby it’s okay. if you’re not comfortable with it i’ll tell them no x’

yn 🤍:

‘no no. ofc i want to meet them, they’re just intimidating is all’

leah 💗:

‘aw babe you’re cute 🥰 they’re harmless. and i’ll stop them if they make u uncomfortable. promise x’

you both texted for a little while longer while agreeing that leah would come pick you up and take you to meet her teammates.

you told your band mates last night and it went down well. they were slightly hurt that you kept it from them but were mostly just excited for you and in shock that you managed to pull leah williamson herself. your train of thought is interrupted from the vibration of your phone, lighting up with a text from leah to let you know she’s outside.

she grins at you as you get into the passenger side of her car, leaning over to kiss you cheek.

“are you sure about this?”

she mumbles against your cheek, you can sense her nerves. she’s not nervous because she’s ashamed of you. she’s nervous because she can’t guarantee that her teammates will behave around you.

“i’m sure. i want to do this, it’s important to me.”

she smiles slightly at you, your words holding a great value to her. she then gives you one last kiss on the cheek before she starts the car and drives.

——

“girls, this is y/n. i’m sure you already know her, but please, be nice. she’s really important to me.”

leah’s grip on your hand tightens towards the end of her sentence as her sincerity shines through. it’s true, she cares about you enough to go to the ends of the earth for you.

“hi, it’s really good to meet you all. i’m a big fan.”

the rest of the girls sit there, disbelieving.

“YOU’RE a fan of US”

you chuckle sheepishly, using your freehand to play with the hem of your shirt nervously, one glance at the lionesses faces and you know you’re in for a tornado’s worth of questions. with a deep inhale, you smile and look at them.

“ask away.”

——

after being bombarded with question after question, the awkward and intense atmosphere has long left the room and you’re sat comfortable between leah and georgia. leah’s arm is wrapped comfortably and protectively around your shoulders, one glance at her face and you can see that she’s on cloud nine. all her favourite people are seamlessly bonding and she couldn’t be happier about it.

“let’s play a game!”

the loud voice of ella toone shouts, followed by the loud agreements of the lionesses. ella then excitedly follows up with a shout of ‘duck, duck goose’ but nobody else wants to play that. (ella hmu i wanna play duck duck goose with you so bad)

“y/n! if i win, i get to choose your next album cover!”

mary shouts, you smile at her and agree, feeling confident.

(you lost, now you have to explain to your band mates that mary earp’s is in charge of your next album cover.)

[wonies-cheeks]

Only If You Say Yes | y.jw

Genre: Angst, Romance, Supernatural

W/C: 2.2k

Warnings: Implied Past Trauma, Death, Reincarnation, Emotional Distress, Supernatural Elements

Featuring: Sung Hanbin, Ricky and Kim Gyuvin of ZEROBASEONE

A/N: This is my first time writing something like this. Lmk if I should do more like this. Don’t be afraid to send me some requests, I’ll make sure to try and answer all of them (I’m kinda running out of ideas).

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*

The sun beats down on your face, causing a warm flush. You giggle, burying your face in the sleeve of your boyfriend, Gyuvin’s, sweater. “It’s too hot,” you whine, feeling the beads of sweat forming on your forehead.

Gyuvin chuckles softly, “You know I can’t help it. This is the only time of the year the sun really decides to come out.”

It’s a typical Saturday afternoon at the park. The air is filled with the sounds of children laughing, dogs barking, and the occasional bird song. You’re walking along the paved path, hand in hand with your boyfriend. Accompanying you two was your and Gyuvin’s best friends; Ricky and Hanbin .

“Let’s go get some ice cream!” Ricky announces, breaking away from Hanbin’s side and bounding towards the ice cream stand. “I’ll pay, come on!”

“You should let us pay for once,” Hanbin teases, following after him.

Gyuvin squeezes your hand, and you feel a pleasant warmth in your chest. “I’ll get you a cone, my love,” he says with a loving grin, dipping his head down to kiss your cheek.

“You’re the best,” you whisper, watching the two boys disappear towards the ice cream stand. “Even though those two are straight, they sometimes act like they’re dating,” you say. Then, you look up at Gyuvin, your smile widening. “You know, I wouldn’t mind a little bit of PDA myself.”

Gyuvin throws his head back and laughs, “Okay, okay, settle down. I’m right here.” He pulls you closer, leaning down to kiss you. You melt into his embrace, feeling a surge of contentment. You are happy, surrounded by friends and loved by a wonderful man. There is nothing more you could ask for.

But as the kiss deepens, a strange feeling washes over you. A feeling of déjà vu, like you have been in this very moment before. The taste of the ice cream, the scent of the flowers in the park, the warmth of Gyuvin’s hand in yours … it all feels ... familiar. You push the feeling away, attributing it to simple nostalgia. After all, you have been coming to this park since you were a child.

Later, as you wander through the park, you spot a group of boys huddled around a picnic blanket. One of them stands out. His laughter rings out like a bell. Tall, dark hair that falls over his forehead, with soft features and a charming smile that seems to light up his whole face. There is something about him that feels … magnetic.

You are drawn to him, almost against your will. You find yourself staring, your heart pounding a little faster.

He catches your eye, and for a fleeting moment, your gazes lock. A strange sense of familiarity washes over you, and you feel a jolt of electricity course through your body. His eyes hold a depth of sadness and curiosity that seems to mirror your own unnameable ache.

Then, as quickly as it started, the moment passes. A wave of dizziness sweeps over you, and you feel a sharp pang of pain in your chest. You stumble back a little, clutching your chest, a strangled gasp escaping your lips.

“Hey, are you okay?” Gyuvin’s voice is laced with concern. He holds you tightly, his face etched with worry.

You shake your head, struggling to catch your breath. “I … I don’t know,” you stammer, feeling a wave of confusion wash over you. “I just … I feel so strange.”

“Maybe you should sit down,” Hanbin suggests, his voice soft and gentle.

You slump onto a nearby bench, your limbs feeling heavy and weak. The dizziness subsides, but the strange sense of familiarity lingers. It is like a dream you can’t quite grasp, a memory just out of reach.

You focus on Gyuvin’s voice, his warm touch, the familiar comfort of your friends. It grounds you, pulls you back to the present. The strange feeling fades, replaced by a sense of unease that you can’t explain.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur. You feel a constant tug of unease, a faint echo of a forgotten dream that refuses to leave you. The feeling stays with you long after you say goodnight to Gyuvin and drift off to sleep.

The next morning, you wake up with a throbbing headache and a strange feeling of disorientation. You can’t shake the nagging sense of something missing, something crucial that you can’t quite grasp.

The feeling stays with you throughout the day, like a shadow lurking at the edge of your consciousness. It intensifies as the sun begins to set, casting long shadows across your room.

You close your eyes, trying to focus on the familiar, the comforting rhythm of your heartbeat, the gentle rise and fall of your chest. But it is useless. The strange feeling only intensifies, swirling around you like a dizzying mist.

Suddenly, a wave of images floods your mind. A playground, filled with the laughter of children. You were wearing a high school uniform. There was someone else with you. A boy with sparkling eyes and a dimple in his cheek and the same high school uniform, his hand in yours, swinging you higher and higher. A promise ring, shining silver on both of your fingers, a symbol of your unwavering love.

The images fade as quickly as they come, replaced by a sharp pain in your chest, a searing emptiness that seems to consume you. You gasp, tears welling up in your eyes, the echo of a forgotten sorrow echoing in your soul.

You try to hold onto the images, to grasp the feeling of his hand in yours, the warmth of his love, but they slip through your fingers like grains of sand. You are left with only a nagging ache, a hollowness that seems to be etched into your very being.

When you finally open your eyes, you find yourself sitting on the edge of your bed, your body trembling. You feel exhausted, drained, as if you had been running a marathon in your sleep.

“What happened?” you whisper, your voice hoarse. You can’t explain the strange feeling, the sense of loss that has gripped you, the fragments of a forgotten memory that haunt your thoughts.

You try to push it away, to focus on the present, the familiar routines of your life. But the feeling lingers, a persistent ache that threatens to consume you.

Days turn into weeks, and the strange feeling never went away. It is a constant companion, a nagging reminder of something lost, something you desperately want to remember.

One day, while walking through the park with Gyuvin, you stumble again. You feel a wave of dizziness, the same pang of pain in your chest, and a rush of images that both captivate and frighten you.

You see a car, sleek and black, hurtling towards a bend. You feel the terror, the impact, the searing pain. Then, an endless darkness, a profound stillness.

It is like a movie playing in your head, but you know it is more than that. It feels like a memory, a memory both vivid and terrifying.

You gasp, clutching at your chest, your eyes wide with fear, the memories swirling around you like a whirlwind. You can’t breathe, can’t speak, can’t even think.

Gyuvin’s worried voice breaks through the fog, “Are you okay? What is it?”

But you can’t answer. You can only stare at the ground, the images replaying in your mind, the fear, the pain, the emptiness.

“Are you okay?” Gyuvin’s repeated, his voice desperate and concerned, reaches you through the haze. He holds you tightly, a comforting presence in the midst of the storm that rages within you.

Gradually, the images fade, replaced by a profound sense of exhaustion and sadness. Gyuvin keeps you close, his warmth a soothing balm to the raw emotions that pulse within you.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs softly, “You’re okay now.”

“I don’t know what’s happening, but I feel … lost,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I feel like I’m forgetting something important.”

“It’s just stress,” Gyuvin says reassuringly, stroking your hair. He knows you are struggling, knows the darkness that has gripped you in the past, but he has no idea the full extent of the torment you face.

You cling to Gyuvin’s warmth, seeking solace in his embrace. The memories, the pain, the emptiness, everything is too much to comprehend. But you can't shake the feeling that something is missing, that there is a piece of the puzzle that you can't quite grasp.

Later, as you lay in bed, the images come back, clearer than ever. The playground, the boy with the dimple, the promise ring, the car, the crash, the darkness. And then, a face, a face you know, a face that feels like a part of you, a face you yearn to remember.

The boy’s face fills your vision, his eyes mirroring your own, a familiar warmth radiating from him. You feel a surge of longing, an ache that seems to travel through your veins.

His voice, soft and gentle, fills your ears. “Only if you say yes,” he whispers, his eyes holding a depth of love that you have tasted before, a love that feels so familiar.

Then, as quickly as it starts, the vision vanishes. You are left with a hollow ache in your heart, a longing so deep that it feels like a physical pain.

Who is he? What does he mean?

You don’t know the answers, but you know one thing for certain. You need to remember, to grasp the fragments of a forgotten memory, to find the boy with the promise ring, the boy who whispered, “Only if you say yes.”

The rest of the night is a blur of dreams, nightmares, and the persistent ache in your heart. As the sun rises, you feel a new sense of urgency, a determination to unlock the secrets of your past, to find the boy who has become a part of you, a boy who has stolen your heart, a boy who has promised to love you forever.

But as you step out of your apartment, into the bright sunshine, the feeling of déjà vu that has haunted you for weeks is gone. Your memories of the park, the boy with the dimple, the car crash, all of it, is gone.

What is real? What is a dream? You don't know. You only know that you feel lost, alone, and desperately searching for something you can't remember.

Later that day, you wander through the park, the familiar path leading you to the ice cream stand. You buy a cone, the sweet taste bringing a fleeting smile to your lips.

As you sit on the bench, enjoying the cool treat, you see him once again.

He is walking with a group of friends, laughing, his smile bright and carefree. He has the same soft features, the same dimple in his cheek, the same gentle eyes that have haunted your dreams. His laughter is the same, the familiar sound of joyous camaraderie that you have heard every night. But it is the way he looks, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, the way his hair falls over his forehead, that sends a surge of emotions through you.

A wave of recognition washes over you, but it is fleeting, like a shadow disappearing into the sunlight.

His eyes meet yours for a brief moment, and you feel a rush of warmth, a glimmer of something familiar. Your breath catches in your throat. You feel a sudden, inexplicable urge to run to him, to tell him that you know him, that you love him, that you have been searching for him for what feels like an eternity. There is an intense connection, a pull that seems to transcend time and space. Those eyes, they hold a familiarity that sends a jolt through your entire being. His gaze is intense, piercing, but also delicate and loving, as if he recognizes you from a different lifetime.

But then, the wave of recognition recedes, leaving you with a sense of confusion and emptiness. You don't know him. You don't remember him.

He smiles at you, a warm, genuine smile, and your heart aches.

You gave him a small smile back. You can't explain it, but you know that you have to see him again, to find out who he is, to understand the strange connection that you feel to him.

As you walk away, you feel a strange, almost desperate longing, a feeling like a piece of you is missing. You know that you have to find him again, to uncover the mystery of the boy with the dimple, to find out what he meant when he whispered, “Only if you say yes.”

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*