#he really does know what to do when it comes to photoshoots

[maximura]

[strcwbrryklss]

୨୧﹕ photoshoot .ᐟ oneshot

pairing ; nicholas chavez x fem!reader contains ; yearning , tension , professional environment a/n ; new white boy of the month! summary ; as a professional photographer, y/n deals with beautiful people all the time, models of all statuses and charm. however, photographing nicholas chavez was not as easy when you can get lost in his eyes.

HAVE YOU EVER looked into someone’s eyes and known what they were thinking? even at the slightest glance? well, y/n could tell as soon as nicholas chavez looked into her lens, the way his gaze softened, or his pupils dilating slightly as he looked her way. it was nothing like she’d seen before. yeah, there were models in the past that had tried to subtly show off in front of her, flexing their muscles and giving the camera a sort of ‘look of lust’ — which was always extremely obvious, anyways. but nick, well, he seemed in awe.

although he was the one all ‘prettied up’, laid on a bed in front of her, shirt unbuttoned, nicholas was the one admiring her. there was something he found so beautiful about her concentration for her passion: when her eyebrows furrow as she looks through the lens, or even when she praises — not only him, but herself — as they get a good shot.

well, he may think she’s concentrating. in reality, y/n is getting increasingly annoyed at her wandering mind. with every look at the camera, or when their gaze meets for a split second, it almost feels as though she’s melting. his dark brown eyes were like a universe in itself, it was easy to get lost in them, especially when he is looking at her so desperately. it seems as if he is almost yearning for her — ‘wow’ she thought ‘he must be a good actor’.

along with that look, the position nick is in does not help. he sits on the edge of the bed, manspread whilst he leans back on his elbows. although he looks so desperate, his body language gives him some sort of dominance, unintentionally giving y/n butterflies.

“you’re very beautiful” nicholas says unexpectedly, catching y/n off guard, but not in a way that would creep her out, it seemed genuine.

she lets out a slight giggle before responding, “thank you” she says, continuing to take pictures.

she got closer, in need of some close up shots, too, and nicholas cooperated. however, forgetting to look at the camera, he starts to examine her face, “no, really. you should be the one in front of the camera” he laughs.

“you’re kidding” she rolls her eyes playfully as she smiles at him.

nick smiles back before nodding towards her camera, “come on”

“absolutely not” she laughs, backing away with her camera, “i cannot trust you with this”

“come onnn” he repeats, dragging out the last word, playfully pleading.

the two look at each other for a few seconds. he gives her a knowing look before putting his hand out, waiting for her to give him the camera. y/n thinks for a bit before rolling her eyes once more and handing him the camera and sitting down on the bed, “this is so unprofessional”

“shh” he responds jokingly, “i’m in charge now”

y/n laughs before sitting herself down onto the bed, “tell me what to do then, photographer”

“first of all, jacket off” nicholas points, “second of all, pose how you want”

“yes, sir” she responds sarcastically, taking off her jacket and throwing it behind him, revealing the white sundress she has been wearing underneath. unsure of what pose to do, y/n kept sitting on the edge of the bed, legs crossed as she leaned back on her arms.

nick began taking photos in a very playful matter, screaming “yes!”, “wow!” enthusiastically with each shot. y/n laughs, causing him to take a few serious shots whilst she’s in the moment. nicholas stops for a second, looking through the photos he just took, with a look of awe on his face and a slight smile, before looking up at her once again.

he then sits down next to her, showing her one of the photos: she’s grinning from ear to ear, eyes shut as sun-rays from the windows hit the sheets behind her, “see, beautiful” he says.

y/n smiles before looking into his eyes once more, realising that they look even better this close, and slowly, without even realising, they close the gap between one another with a soft kiss.

[redflagshipwriter]

SNITCHES THE CAT SEQUEL pt1 and masterpost

Part Two/Part Three/ Part Four/ Part Five

Part One

“This you?”

Danny pushed the newspaper down without looking at it, revealing Sam’s shitty grin. “That lost cat is not me, no.” He rolled his eyes. They had been showing him lost pet ads ever since he got back from Gotham. “Isn’t that joke getting old, guys?” He kicked his way further into a slouch in the booth as Tucker came back with refilled drinks.

Tucker laughed, and then there was a silence. “Danny? Are you sure this isn’t you, man?” He sounded uncertain.

He felt his jaw twitch and he had to tell his friend off. “Is it that funny that there’s a sad kid out there? Honestly, guys-” Danny opened his eyes fully to roll them and then saw the lost pet ad being brandished in his face. He blinked at it. His brain did a full reboot and he reached out to take the paper. 

It looked like him, sleeping on the cushion in the batcave. Had they gotten that photo from the security footage? “It’s me.” His voice came out way too high.

Danny pulled the paper over in disbelief and realized that it was a two page ad. “Oh wow,” he said faintly. There he was, leaping across the kitchen. And there, that must have been taken by Damian when he fell asleep on the bed. There was a cat toy partially in the frame.

Sam’s snorting laughter cut off. “Uh.” She kicked him lightly under the table. “Is.. Is that little kid going to be okay?” She asked in a small voice. She sounded like she felt bad for poking fun. 

Danny felt guilty. He stared at the evidence that Robin was missing his cat terribly and felt like the biggest jackass possible. “Should I go back?” he wondered. He squirmed, pulling a foot up onto the bench to perch on. “I mean… How long does a cat live? A few years?”

“Try about twenty,” Tucker said flatly. “I feel bad too, man, but you can’t defer admission that long.”

“Though Snitches was clearly not a little kitten, so you could really just give it a couple years,” Sam mused. Both boys stared at her. She blinked. “Not that I’m suggesting you do that!” She waved her hands at them. “The longer you stay with him, the harder he’s going to take it when his pet ‘dies’,” she said with finger quotes. “You did the right thing by leaving as soon as you could.”

“Maybe we could answer it, do a photoshoot, tell him that Danny was your cat or something and he’s come home,” Tucker mused. “He’d be sad that he couldn’t have the cat, but surely it would be better than worrying the cat died, right?”

“What are you losers talking about?” Star said, giving their booth a wide berth. “You’re not hurting cats now, are you, weirdos?” She eyed them like they were gross. “It would figure.”

“Fuck off,” Sam said pleasantly. All three of them gave Star a rude gesture in unison, just like they had practiced. “That shit’s uncalled for.”

Star sniffled and turned away on her heel, cheer skirt flouncing behind her. A few moments later she clearly reached her table because the sounds of popular kid conversation got a lot louder.

“She should be a reporter,” Sam said darkly. “I would love for her to get sued for slander.” She snapped open her clutch and began applying even more black eyeliner, as if that would differentiate her from the other girls in the restaurant.

Tucker groaned and pulled his hat down over his eyes in despair. “That’s gonna be a bad rumor,” he complained. 

Danny couldn’t find it in him to care as much as he usually would. He was still stuck on the fact that Damian had put an ad in the Illinois Times. “Do you think he realized that Snitches got on a highway bus to Illinois?” he hissed, now aware that other people might be listening in. “How would he know that?”

Sam frowned. Tucker lifted his head and pulled out his phone to search. “That’s a good question,” he said to himself. He hit buttons rapidly. “Uh, same ad is in…” He trailed off. “Hold up, hold up, lemme search this backwards…” Whatever he saw had him raise his eyebrows high, look at Danny in disbelief, and then shake his head slightly. “You must be a really good cat. I'm kind of jealous.”

“What?” Danny hissed. “Just tell me.”

“Hey, hey, paws off.” Tucker moved his device further away. “Uh, this poor kid- well.” He paused. “Poor is the wrong word. He’s put ads in newspapers all the way up to Ontario and down to… Well, in Mexico at least.”

Danny and Sam stared at him in disbelief. “You’re fucking with us,” Sam said after a long moment.

Tucker silently shook his head. “There’s a nationwide Greg’s list ad,” he said grimly. “20 dollars an hour to print and staple missing cat photos to telephone poles. And a private detective’s agency on the case, asking for witnesses to come forward.”

Danny put his head in his hands. “I have to go back,” he said, haunted by the responsibility. “I can’t let him be this sad.”

“Danny, no.” Tucker said. Sam nodded her agreement. 

“…Yeah, that’s crazy,” he said unconvincingly. He gave a fake laugh. “He’ll get over it.” Danny stared into his drink, watching bubbles. Robin was not going to get over it. That kid loved hard.

“I could use 20 dollars an hour,” Tucker said in a thoughtful tone.

“No,” Sam said flatly.

Tucker shrugged, smiling slightly. “I wonder how much I’d get for bringing you back.” He shrugged theatrically. “You could send me to college, man! Don’t you want me to go to college?”

“No…” Danny said weakly. “I… Is that fraud?” Still. Money would be nice.

“Guys, no.” Sam knocked them both in the head with the pile of napkins. “You can’t do that to this little kid. He’s clearly not well.”

“Exactly,” Tucker argued passionately. “Imagine how happy he would be to get his cat back! We could reunite him with his pet!”

It was tempting. He felt, like, so bad about how sad Robin was. The little guy had been so proud of his pet. Danny could spare a few years to make a little kid happy, right? It was kind of greedy otherwise.

Danny stared at the bubbles in his drink again, really thinking it over. “I think I would have to fight crime with him,” he said dully. “That’s a minus.”

“Danny?” Sam rapped the table with her fingers. He looked up to see her pointed eyebrow raise. “What are you talking about?”

He hunched his shoulders up. “Nothing, nothing,” he lied hastily. He forgot they didn’t know. He couldn’t dox someone’s crime fighting identity, though, it would be really unfair. 

“You could buy me a house,” Tucker wheedled. Sam hit him.

[bloodibambiidoll]

There’s No Such Thing As Purity

(Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You and Rafe are childhood best friends and as far as he’s concerned you’re an innocent angel he needs to protect from the world. But he discovers a whole other side of you when you accidentally send him nudes that were meant for someone else. Wk: 4.9k

Warnings: Drinking/smoking weed, jealous!Rafe, posessive!Rafe, minor Jj x reader, brat taming, choking, spanking, spit kink, tiddy slapping, hair pulling, face fucking, fingering, orgasm denial, daddy kink, unprotected sex.18+MDNI!!!

A/N: this is only my second Rafe fic so pls be niiicee to me. But I love this man. I need him to own me and put me in my place. Thank you to my sweet angel @babygorewhore for listening to me rant about this, and for beta reading for me. Ilysm. Also this is based off the song “Purity” by Lilyisthatyou.

You’re not necessarily faded, but you’ve had a couple drinks and you smoked a blunt with a few of your friends when you first got here so you’re feeling a little buzzed. You check your phone and to your delight your sneaky link that you asked to meet you here had responded that he would be on his way soon. You smirk down at the screen, excusing yourself to the bathroom so you could respond to him how you really wanted to.

You close the bathroom door and pull your little crop top over your head, leaving you in just your low waisted mini skirt that you push down even further so your thong straps are on display. You stand in front of the large full length mirror on the bathroom wall, holding your phone camera up while you pose. You take a few shots, then a few more, until you're satisfied that at least a couple of them will be good enough to send. You spend a few minutes going through them before deciding on two.

One is straight on, your tits fully on display, your free hand pulling one of your thong straps up even further, and your tongue is sticking out. The second is from the side, showing the curve of your back and the top of your ass sticking out of your skirt, two fingers between your lips. You smirk, satisfied with your work. You select the two photos before typing out the text to accompany them.

“When are you getting here?😉”

In your somewhat hazy, horny state you click the most recent contact on your list and hit send. You didn’t think anything of it, since as far as you know he’s the last person that texted you. But what you failed to realize is during your little photoshoot your best friend had texted you, and you sent them to him instead. Seconds later your phone starts to ring, Rafe’s contact and a goofy photo of the two of you popping up on the screen.

“Hey, what’s up?” You answer cheerfully.

“What's up? What’s up with you? What’s up with those photos?” Rafe sounds pissed, which isn’t unlike him, but it’s very rarely directed at you.

“Photos? What’re you-?” It takes your slightly inebriated mind a second to catch up but when it does you gasp, pulling the phone away from your ear to pull up your texts. Your entire body warms and your heart feels like it’s going to fall out of your ass when you realize you sent him the photos, and not the intended recipient. “Oh god… fuck. Rafe listen, can we not make this a thing? Those weren’t for you, just delete them so we can forget this ever happened.”

“Who were they for then, huh? Also where the hell are you? I thought you were staying home tonight.” This was not good. You and Rafe have been best friends since you were kids, and he’s always been extremely protective of you, some may say overprotective. So things like guys and hookups? You keep them to yourself when it comes to him.

“Uh - I don’t see why that really matters? Can you just fucking delete them? Also I was going to stay home but then the girls convinced me to come with them to this party. You’re busy tonight anyways? I don’t know why it’s a big deal.” You huff in annoyance.

“It fucking matters because what if something happened to you? Since when do you go to parties without me anyways? You could’ve at least told me you decided to go out. Also you’re sending guys nudes now? Since when? Who is this fucker?”

“Rafe!!! You need to calm down. Seriously, we don’t have to make this a thing, okay? Just fucking delete them and go back to doing whatever it is you were doing. Please.” Your voice comes out more whiny than you mean it to, but you know he’s a sucker for your pouting so you're hoping it will calm him down a bit.

“No, seriously, answer my fucking questions.” He sneers your name into the phone and it sends chills down your spine. He’s been irritated with you before, of course. But never talked to you like this and you have to admit that it’s doing something to you. You’ve always wanted him, but he’s always seen you as this precious angel he needs to protect, innocent. When truly? You’re anything but. You go to parties without him when he’s busy all the time, and as far as your innocence? That was long gone.

“Oh my god. I already told you, I’m at a fucking party, okay? I’m here with my friends. You’re acting like I’ve never gone to a party without you or like I’m a child that needs to be watched and you’re honestly being really dramatic.” Rafe is taken back by your tone. You’re normally so soft and cheerful with him. But right now? You were acting like a fucking brat.

“At a party, where? And you still didn’t answer my other question. Who. Were. The. Pictures. For?” You can tell he’s pacing the room and running his fingers through his hair with his nostrils flared. The image makes your thighs clench. You’ve always fantasized about Rafe putting you in your place, he treats you like a princess, lets you do whatever you want. Granted you’re usually very sweet to him, but tonight? You’re wondering how far you can push him before he finally snaps. “You know you share your location with me, right? I can just fucking look myself if you don’t wanna tell me.”

“Jesus Christ, Rafe! It’s at Matt’s house! Are you happy? I’m still on figure 8, literally a few blocks from my house!! And as far as who the pictures were for? Just a guy, okay? I don’t know why the specifics matter. It’s almost like you’re jealous or something.” You tried to hold it in, you really did, but you’ve been holding back from saying that for years. It was like he didn’t want any guys near you, but he never did anything about it himself and you were over it.

“What if I am?” He practically growls into the phone and that wasn’t the response you were expecting. You had never brought up his possessiveness until now, but other people had and he always said something along the lines of ‘I’m not fuckin’ jealous, it’s just no man is good enough for my best friend’ and it always made your heart deflate, just a bit.

“Are you?”

“Just fucking stay there, alright? I’m coming to get you.” He doesn’t wait for you to respond, the line going dead. Your text notification goes off, the guy who you meant to send the photos to letting you know he arrived at the party. Suddenly you feel shockingly sober.

You take a deep breath to collect your thoughts. You have two options here. Option one, hide in the bathroom until Rafe gets here and then leave with him, totally avoiding any further drama for the night. Or, option two, you could go out there, and when Rafe gets here, you could see if he really is jealous… Fuck it. You pull your shirt over your head, look in the mirror to check your hair, and exit the bathroom.

You weave through the sweaty bodies in the living room and head out back to where your date said he would be waiting for you. Your eye’s scan the patio, searching for those blonde locks. Your eye’s meet smug blue ones, a cocky smirk on his lips. Yeah, Rafe was absolutely going to lose his shit when he found out those photos were meant for none other than Jj Maybank. Probably one of the last people on earth he would want you fucking around with. But you ran into him at a party a few weeks ago, hooked up with him in a random bedroom, and you’re not ashamed to say you’ve gone back for seconds. And thirds. And forths too. It’s not your fault it was the best dick you’ve ever had in your life.

“Hey princess, how’s a goin’?” He approaches you, his eyes unabashedly roaming your curves in your little party outfit. He brings his thumb to your bottom lip, running across it before leaning in close so his lips brush your ear. “You look good enough to eat.”

“Yeah? Maybe you’ll get to try a bite later.” You lean back so you can look up into his eyes, biting your lip. For a second you almost forget all about the Rafe dibocle, getting lost in Jj’s now familiar, fresh, but still somehow musky scent and those eyes that remind you of the ocean water that surrounds your home. But you couldn’t forget about Rafe for long. Your feelings for Jj are so incredibly surface level compared to the feelings you have for him. “You wanna get a drink? And dance?”

“Sure thing, pretty girl.” He winks at you, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

After you take a shot together you drag him out onto the makeshift dance floor Matt set up on his parents back patio. You start to sway your hips to the music that booms from the large speakers that were set up around the area and Jj hungrily eyes your curves. He pulls a joint from behind his ear, raising it between the two of you with his eyebrow cocked and you nod in response.

You continue to sway, turning your back towards Jj so you can rub your ass against him. He pops the joint in his mouth, turning his head to the side so he can use one hand to light it, his other hand coming down to grab onto your hip. His fingertips graze the skin above your skirt and it gives you goosebumps. After he takes a few puffs off the joint he holds it to your mouth, his skin grazing your soft lips. You turn your head over your shoulder to blow the smoke in his mouth and he takes the hint immediately connecting his lips with yours. But before you can even fully shotgun the hit to him your entire body is suddenly ripped away from his, a large hand pulling you by your forearm.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT? HUH? WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE FUCKIN’ DOING?” Rafe’s voice bellows over the music as he pulls you towards him, causing you to trip and fall into his chest.

“Rafe, I’m just having fun, you need to chill. Seriously.” You push against him but he uses the hold he still has on your arm to pull you closer. His free hand comes up to your jaw, gripping it roughly, forcing you to look up at him.

“I need to chill? Are you fuckin’ joking? Is this who those pictures were for? This dirty fuckin’ pouge? Are you fucking him?” His eyes hold a fire that’s never been directed towards you, and logically you should be pissed, you should slap him across the face for acting like this. But instead you feel your panties get even wetter under his angry gaze, the feeling of his hand on your jaw making your knees weak.

“Hey bro, you need to back the fuck off! She told you to chill, get off her!” Jj tries to grab onto your free hand but Rafe doesn’t allow it, he grips onto your hips, using his hold on you to push you to the other side of him, away from Jj.

“You’re the one that needs to fuck off bro.” Rafe gets in his face, his nostrils flared, his eyes filled with rage. “Keep your dirty fuckin hands off my girl, fuckin’ pouge trash.”

“Your girl, huh? She didn’t seem like she was your girl when she was beggin’ me to let her cum last weekend.” Jj smirks, his eyes boring right back into the taller man’s. Rafe growls, using all his force to push him so hard he falls to the ground.

“Yeah bitch, my fucking girl. Stay the fuck away from her or I’ll beat your ass so bad they won’t be able to identify you when you get to the fucking hospital.” He spits on the ground in front of the blonde’s feet before turning back to you with his jaw and fists clenched. “Bathroom. Now.”

You stare up at him with wide eyes, speechless. My girl. My girl. My girl. Replaying like a mantra in your head. After a few seconds of you standing there like a deer caught in the headlights, Rafe lost his patience. He swiftly closed the few foot gap between you, his large ringed hand gripping the back of your neck. He bends down so his face is level with yours, blue eyes filled with fire staring down at you.

“I said. Bathroom. Now. Start fucking walking.” He practically growls when he says it and you have to hold in a whimper. The hand on your neck glides down to your shoulder, turning you away from him without giving you a chance to respond. You have half a mind to talk back to him. But he seems like he’s two seconds away from turning around and taking his anger out on Jj and you’ve definitely done enough damage in that department for the night, so you start walking.

“Take me to the bathroom you took those little pictures in.” You squeal when halfway down the hall Rafe grabs onto your hair from behind you, pulling your head back against his chest. He’s looking down at you hungrily, his tongue running across his bottom lip. “I wanna take some pictures of my own.”

As soon as the bathroom door is shut he’s on you, shoving you up against it by your throat, his lips smashing against yours in a bruising kiss. He slips his tongue into your mouth using it to dominate your own. Just when you feel yourself start to get lost in it he pulls away, a pout forming in your lips.

“Seriously, what the hell has gotten into, Bunny? Where’s my sweet little innocent best friend? Cause this girl I’ve seen tonight, she’s certainly not her.” He looms over you, the look in his eyes is wild, he looks like he wants to devour you and god you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t let him do just about anything to you right now.

“Maybe there’s a side of me you don’t know about, ever thought of that?” The smirk that spreads across your lips is seductive, the look in your eyes mischievous. “You do know I have a life outside of you, right?”

“No fucking shit, I know that. But this is not something I’d expect out of you. Going to parties dressed like that, smoking weed, grinding on pouges.” He snarls at the last part, the hand around your throat tightening slightly. He pushes your legs apart with his foot and shoves his knee between your thighs, pressing it up against your wet clothed core. You try to hold in the moan that escapes you but your body betrays you. “I’m only going to ask you this one more time, was he bullshitting me out there or did you fuck him?”

“Yeah I fucked him, more than once.” That Cheshire smirk reappears on your lips and he wants nothing more than to wipe it off. He releases your throat to grip your jaw, pinching your cheeks together.

“You lost your virginity to a fuckin’ pouge? You let him inside of you? When I’m the only one who's supposed to touch you? Bet he didn’t even make you cum.” He shakes your head from side to side, grinding his knee up into your cunt. You really don’t want to give into him just yet, but you’re losing your resolve quicker with every passing minute.

“HA! My virginity? I hate to break it to you Rafey, but that ship sailed back in highschool. And as far as him making me cum? Say what you want about the pouges but that’s the best dick I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah? Not for fuckin’ long.” He walks over to stand in front of the mirror you had your impromptu photoshoot in. He turns to the side, looking you dead in the eyes as snaps his fingers, his long pointer finger directed towards the ground.

“Are you serious?” You scoff, crossing your arms in defiance. “I’m not sucking you off.”

You absolutely were going to suck him off, but he didn’t need to know that, yet. You were having fun toying with him and getting him worked up.

“Really? Cause I think you want to. I think you did all of this on fuckin purpose to get me going. Come over here and get on your fucking knees for me, bunny. I know you want it.” He smirks, his hands reaching for the button on his shorts. He pulls his cock out and your eyes grow wide, your mouth dropping open. You can’t even hide the look of awe on your face at the sight of his thick cock. It’s almost subconscious the way your feet carry you forward towards him. You approach him, looking up at him through your lashes. His hands grip your shoulders, pushing you down to your knees in front of him. “Take that fucking shirt off.”

You rip your shirt over your head and as soon as it’s off he leans down to grab onto your tits, squeezing them roughly.

“Perfect fuckin’ tits, and they’re all mine huh?” He pulls back and abruptly his large hands smack down on both your tits causing you to let out a yelp. “Say it, say they’re mine.” Two more smacks come in succession.

“They’re yours Rafe, always been yours.” You look at him with big wide eyes and your lips set into a pout. You almost look like his innocent best friend again, but he knows better now.

“Open your fucking mouth, slut. Stick your tongue out.” He takes his cock in his hand, stroking it.

As soon as your tongue leaves your mouth Rafe is smacking the tip of his cock against it. Salty precum hits your tongue and you moan at the taste. His free hand gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, wrenching your head back so you’re looking at him.

“You done being a fuckin’ brat now? Gonna let me show you who you really belong to?”

“Uh-huh, yeah.” You nod to the best of your ability, all resolve you had left leaving your body. You’re already starting to feel fucked out and he hasn’t even really touched you yet.

“Did I say you could close your mouth? Open.” You stick your tongue out for him again and he leans down to spit on it. “Swallow… Good bunny.”

He pats your cheek and tilts your head back towards his cock. You immediately take his head into your awaiting mouth. You start to swirl your tongue around the tip but Rafe isn’t having it, he’s done with your teasing.

“Just fuckin’ sit still and relax your throat, let me use you like the whore you’ve been acting like all night.” He takes both sides of your head in his hands and thrusts deep into your throat, causing you to gag. “That's it baby, fucking choke on it.”

He starts to fuck into your mouth deep and hard, giving you no time to adjust. You look up at him and his head is thrown back, feral moans leave his lips and his chest is heaving. He pulls your head back, looking down at you. He feels like he’s gonna cum when he does. There’s a string of spit connected from your mouth to his cock, your mascara is running, more drool is dripping down your chin and onto your tits.

“Where’s your phone?” He growls.

“In my purse, probably on the floor by the door where I dropped it when you jumped me.” He rolls his eyes at your attitude, walking over to your purse to pull your phone out. He stands over you again, opening the camera.

“Keep sucking.”

You lean forward and take him back in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down on his dick. You decide you’re going to show him what you’re really made of. One of your hands grabs the base of his cock, stroking what isn’t down your throat, the other comes up to his spit slick balls, rolling them in your palm.

“Fuck. You really are a little slut, sucking me off like it’s your fuckin’ job. You wanna act like a whore? I’ll treat you like one. You wanna send out slutty little pictures to trash from the cut? I’ll help you out with that.” He turns the camera toward the mirror adjacent to where you were standing and snaps a picture of the two of you. Then he flips it towards your face and takes another. “Alright. Get up. Bend your ass over the sink.”

You scramble to your feet and lean down so your upper half is against the counter, your ass and hips in the air. The marble countertop is cool against your bare tits and your skirt rides up over your ass, revealing your little lilac colored thong with a dark spot right in the middle. Rafe groans at the sight, walking up behind you while he pulls his shirt over his head. You tilt your chin up so you can lock eyes with him in the mirror, clenching around nothing at the sight of him standing over your shirtless.

“Look how wet that slutty little pussy is already, all this just from sucking my cock?” He grabs the bottom hem of your skirt forcefully pushing it up over your hips. His hands grip the meat of your ass, spreading your cheeks. One of his long fingers hooks under the thin lace that sits snugly between your ass, pulling it back as far as it can go before letting go. It snaps against your pussy deliciously, making you whimper. “I’ve always wanted to get my hands on this ass. Never thought it’d be like this though, not the first time at least.”

“How’d you think it would be then?” You look over your shoulder at him and he looks like a lion that caught its prey. He doesn’t break eye contact with you when his hand comes down on your ass, once, twice, three times.

“For one, I didn’t think you’d be such a fucking brat. My sweet little bunny. Always acting so innocent. Thought I’d have to be all gentle with you and shit. If I knew you were such a little cock slut I would’ve done this a long time ago.” He spanks you again, but this time it comes from below, the smack hitting your wet lace covered cunt. His fingers hook into your panties, ripping them down your legs. He runs his fingers through your slit, circling around your clit but not never actually touching it. “Look at this fucking pussy, looks so fucking sweet.”

“Please stop teasing me, Rafey.” You whine.

“Please stop teasing me, Rafey.” He mocks, and you think he’s going to keep torturing you but two thick fingers are suddenly being shoved knuckle deep inside you.

“Oh, fuck!” His fingers start fucking you at a brutal pace, this thumb coming down to finally circle your slick covered clit. His free hand comes down on your ass again and it makes you clench around him.

“Whose pussy is this?” Rafe leans over you, his large frame caging your smaller one against the counter top, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Tell me who fucking owns you.”

“You, you own me, daddy. I’m all yours.” He straight up growls in response, his fingers fuck into you impossibly faster and his lips latch onto your neck, surely sucking a bruise into it. Marking his territory. Your walls start to pulse around him and he can tell you’re getting close.

“You gonna cum? Gonna be a good little girl and cum for your daddy?”

“Yeah I’m gonna - I’m gonna fucking cum.” You push your hips back, fucking yourself against his hand. You're about to tumble over the edge when it’s suddenly ripped away from you, Rafe pulling his fingers out of you.

“Rafe! What the fuck! I was about to cum!” You push yourself up on your hands so you can glare at him in the mirror. He smirks back at you, taking the fingers that were inside you into his mouth with a groan.

“That’s what you get for acting like a fucking brat. Besides, if you’re gonna cum, it’s gonna be on my fuckin’ cock.” He pushes you back down by the back of your head, smushing your cheek against the counter. He lines his cock up with your entrance, fully inserting himself inside you in one thrust. “Oh shiiiit, you’re so fuckin’ tight bunny. Always knew you would be.”

“Oh my goddddd.” Your eyes roll back and drool drips down the corner of your mouth onto the marble from the way he has your cheeks pressed together with his hand. He’s huge and the stretch burns so good.

“Yeah, that’s a good little slut, take this fuckin’ dick baby.” His hand travels down your back, gripping your ass harshly before gripping onto your hips. He’s fucking you so hard the sound of your hips slapping together echoes through the large bathroom and his balls are hitting your clit with every thrust. “Your little pouge still the best dick you ever had?”

“N - no, you’re the best I’ve ever had daddy, you’re filling me up so good, feels so good.” Rafe reaches into his back pocket for your phone, using his other hand to pull your ass apart for the perfect view of his cock buried deep inside you.

“I think we should show him how good I make you feel, baby. Show him you really are my girl. From now on the only slutty pictures of you are either going to be taken for me or by me, got it?”

“Yes daddy, I got it. I’m yours, only yours.” He snaps a few photos before setting the phone down on the counter. He grabs onto the back of your neck, pulling your head up so you can see in the mirror.

“Look at yourself, look at what a little slut you are for my cock. Is that fucking drool?” He laughs condescendingly, a smug smirk spread across his lips.

You look at yourself in the mirror, your makeup is running down your cheeks, your hair is a disaster from how Rafe had been tugging on it, and there was in fact, drool dripping down your chin to your chest. Your eyes travel up to Rafe and you feel like you’re going to cum right then and there. His hair is hanging in his eyes slightly but you can see them enough that the look he gives you in the mirror makes your head spin. His toned chest is covered in a thin layer of sweat and the feral moans leaving him are your new favorite sound. His hand grabs onto the front of your throat, pulling you up so your back is against his chest. The new angel has him hitting deeper and you feel that coil in your belly starting to wind up again.

“Fuck daddy, I’m gonna cum, feels so good, please let me cum.” You reach behind you, threading your fingers into his hair while you push your hips back against his.

“Look who can be a good girl after all, asking me to cum without me even having to tell you? That’s such a good little bunny. Go on then, cum for daddy.” His fingers find your clit and it sends you over the edge, your walls tightening around him. “That’s it, fuckin’ cum on my cock.”

He fucks you through it before chasing his own high. Pushing you back down on the counter by your lower back, he grips onto your hips, and drills into you harder than ever.

“This is the best pussy I’ve ever had, this is my fucking pussy, you’re mine. I’m gonna fill you up so full of my cum you’re going to have to walk out of this party with it dripping down your legs.”

“Fuck yes daddy, fucking fill me up, please? Want your cum.” The sound of you begging for his release does him in. Just a few more rough thrusts and he’s pushing his hips flush against your own, pumping his cum deep inside of you. He pulls out and grabs onto your asscheeks, pulling them apart so some of the cum would seep out.

“Don’t fucking move.” He grabs your phone off the counter and takes a few shots of your puffy pussy dripping with his cum. “Good girl.”

He grabs onto your shoulders, pulling you up and flipping you towards him in one swift motion. He grips your face in his hands, kissing you rough and wet and possessively. He pulls away and tucks himself back into his shorts before looking at your phone again, he goes into your texts with Jj and selects the photos he just took, typing out a message and hitting send with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Told you she was my girl.”

[nsingcat]

ON REPEAT! C, LECLERC.

summary ✶ fans take notice when charles keeps streaming this underground singer’s two newest songs.

pairings ✶ charles leclerc x underground singer!reader

faceclaim ✶ jueun lee

notes ✶ i am the worst at summaries anyway- i hope you enjoy! i used many artists music for this (for specifics, check the end !). also ignore the fact that their relationship seems kinda fast, lets just act like a time skipped happened !1!1

#INSTAGRAM: YOURUSERNAME !

liked by user, user, user, and 10,636 others!

yourusername in the (home) studio (´△｀) ♪ 🎧

view comments

user YN NATION ARE WE READDYY

user IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE.. TURN IT UPP 🗣️

user OH MY AGEHEHE

user IS IT AN ALBUM? EP? SINGLE??

➥ yourusername eyee don’t knowww ¯\(◉‿◉)/¯

➥ user AHHHH

user pretty girl making pretty music ☹️☹️

user I USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS 🙏🏼

user we better get a tour announcement with this song/ep/album 😤

➥ yourusername i don’t think i’m big enough for that yet (゜-゜)

➥ user DOESN’T MATTERR

#INSTAGRAM: YOURUSERNAME !

liked by charles_leclerc, user, user and 11,536 others

yourusername i hope everyone enjoys my two new songs every summertime & h.s.k.t ft wonstein off of my upcoming album, love yn coming 09.02.2024 ᡣ𐭩

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user YOUVE DONE IT AGAIN MOTHER!!

user HSKT IS ON REPEATTT

user BABY ILL GIVE UP EVERYTHING TO TRY AND CHANGE YOUR MINDD 🗣️

user ALBUM ANNOUNCEMENT + TWO SONGS OFF OF IT 😵‍💫😵‍💫 WE’RE BEING FEEEDDD

user september needs to hurry up wtf

user did anyone else notice that charles leclerc liked and unlike this post??

➥ user YEAH

➥ user what does he know about MY queen 🤨

➥ user RIGHT LMFOAOA

user talented brilliant incredible amazing show stopping-

user i am NOT sorry for the person i’m gonna become after this album

#TWITTER: FAN ACCOUNTS !

#INSTAGRAM DMS: CHARLES & YOU !

#TWITTER: FAN ACCOUNTS !

#INSTAGRAM: YOURUSERNAME !

liked by charles_leclerc, user, f1 and 342,638 others!

yourusername congratulations to ＠charles_leclerc for winning monza!! i had a blast being there today! p.s, thank you for the dinner ᡣ𐭩!

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user THIS IS THE GIRL CHARLES HAS BEEN LISTENING TO?? GORGEOUS OMGG

user all these f1 fans.. 🤺 GET BACK I SAY 🤺

user HE TOOK HER TO DINNER?? OH MY GODD

user he looks so good in that photo wowza

charles_leclerc As my lucky charm, you are now forced to come to every race until the end of the year. ❤️

➥ yourusername would there be more dinner dates?

➥ charles_leclerc Of course! Maybe even more?

➥ yourusername then i accept your offer, mr leclerc ! (>ω^)

➥ user JUST DATE ALREADY OMG

user okay can yall date now or whatever

user can’t believe my queen isn’t nugu anymore 💔

user all these people in her comments.. yall better stream her album when it comes out 🤨!!

user did yall see the way he stared at her when he was on the podium??? NGNGNNGN

#INSTAGRAM: YOURUSERNAME !

liked by charles_leclerc, user, user and 566,234 others!

yourusername my debut album ‘LOVE, YN’ is out now! I really poured my heart and soul into this album & I hope i was able to convey that. i wish you all enjoyment while listening to this album ᡣ𐭩!

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user not you copying album of the year omgg

user AND JULY IS THE BEST SONG OFF THE ALBUM

➥ user not when round and around is right there!1!1

➥ charles_leclerc lovesick stole that spot I’m afraid!

➥ user WHATATAGSG

user THIS PHOTOSHOOT?? MOTHERR

user this is best album ever released i do NOT care what any of yall say

user HAPPY LLOVE YN” DAYY

charles_leclerc Absolutely fantastic Ma Cherie ❤️

➥ user ma cherie… don’t couples call each other that !2!1??

➥ yourusername thank you charlie ♡(˃͈ દ ˂͈ ༶ )

➥ user CHARLIE??? OH YALL KNOW WHAT IM THINKJNN

user charles being a lovesick truther iktr !!!

user you’ve come so far… *sniffs* i feel like a proud mother omg

#INSTAGRAM: CHARLES_LECLERC !

liked by yourusername, user, carlossainz55, and 953,621 others!

charles_leclerc God, I’m so lovesick, what have you done to me? ＠yourusername.

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user i fell to my knees

user IM GONNA CRASH OUT?:?/!2?

user SHES SO CUTE WTAF

yourusername i’m glad i answered your embarrassing dm that day :D

➥ charles_leclerc HEY! you said I didn’t have to feel embarrassed??

➥ yourusername oops uh

user USINGN LOVESICK AS THE CAPTION CHARLES YOU SICK SICK MAN 💔

olliebearman mama y papa !

user HER CAT 😔😔

user charyn pls never die 💔🙏🏼

user idk if i wanna be her or him

ferrari welcome to the family yn !!! (pls sign my cd of ur album 🙏🏼🙏🏼)

➥ yourusername got it admin (・ω<)!!

user i cannot believe this

user THEYRE LITERALLY SO CUTE I CANT 💔

nymphia talks. artists music i used for yn’s discography! i hope you all enjoyed the fic <3!!

lee hi — h.s.k.t ft wonstein, only

NIKI — every summertime

yves — diorama

yukika — neon 1989

youra — rawww

seulgi — anywhere but home

yerin baek — ms delicate

beabadoobee — the perfect pair

2xxx, miso — girl, interrupted

heize, dean — and july

jo yuri — round and around

laufey — lovesick

[lcriedlastnight]

Shy reader and Lando who absolutely loves taking pictures of her

yes yes yes! thanks, lovely!

tw: fem!reader, swears, a little rushed me thinks, lmk if you want me to add anything else.

w/c: 1.7k

it was like lando wanted to embarrass you or something. he knew how shy you were yet here he was, snapping away at you with his camera mumbling about how good this would look on his jpg account on instagram.

of course you are very quick to remind him that you would sooner set your shared kitchen on fire than stumble across a picture of you on his, very famous and very popular instagram account.

"c'mon baby. just one photoshoot. you're too pretty to not take pictures of." lando begs, the camera's wide lens sticking in your face as you cover it with your hands. lando seriously considers fighting you then gluing you to the bed to he could take pictures of you until his heart was content.

"no, lando. i know you'll end up posting them and i won't like how i look in them and it'll be this whole big thing." you complain from behind your hands.

lando understands where you are coming from he swears, it makes total sense. of course it does it had come from your brain. he just did not think he could ever wrap his head around the fact that he had the prettiest girl sitting right next to him and he was not allowed to immortalise you so he could always remember that day when you had both decided to stay at home and have a day for yourself. lando was one hundred percent one of those people who feared that his memory would just disappear one day, he was sure that was why he loved taking pictures all the time. the boy was desperate not to forget anything, especially the times he treasured the most.

that was why is was so difficult for him to keep his camera out of sight and- well out of your face really, any time you were together. the driver never wanted to forget what you looked like, the prettiest girl in the entire world to him.

"i won't i promise. please, you just look too pretty not to!" lando pleads for what feels like the hundredth time today. you roll your eyes from behind your hands, knowing he was laying it on thick just to get you to agree.

"i've just woken up, lando! no way!" you protest. lando ends up giving up that day, he knows the day where he gets you to agree is right around the corner he just has to play his cards right.

lando had taken you with him to australia for the up coming race at the weekend and because it was lando, he had forced you to go sight-seeing so he could get pictures for that beloved instagram account he barely even posts on now anyways.

you remind him that you don't want any pictures taken of you and he agrees without much pushing from you, which surprises you to say the least but you do not even bother to comment on it as you worried it would make him snap out of whatever mindset he was in that made him so agreeing with you.

you were walking ahead of your boyfriend as, unbeknown to you, he was snapping away. his pictures consisting of gorgeous skylines, arty graffiti on the walls along the streets you both walked along and finally, you. they were only pictures of your back but lando thought they were wonderful and had to contain the urge to tell you to spin around so he could get some of your sunkissed, pretty face.

as you were both laying in the hotel bed that night, lando scrolled through the pictures he had taken on his camera that day and spoke your name softly to grab your attention when the pictures of you had popped up.

"i know you don't like it when i take your picture but i think this looks great." lando says, a little nervous that he had just started a fight with you but your eyes looked calm as they scanned over the computer screen that showed your silhouette as you walked through the bustling streets of melbourne. the city had quickly raced through the places to take the number two spot for your favourite cities that you gone visited with lando.

you are quiet for a minute or two (which seems like an eternity for your boyfriend) before you approve.

"yeah, i guess you made me look quite good here, lan." you compliment the picture. the praise settling in his stomach as it was very high coming from you.

"thanks honey but that's all you. didn't even have to get you to pose or anything. i think despite what you say and think, you're a natural in front of my camera." lando instead compliments you as his arm swings over your shoulder bringing you close into his side with a cheesy smile that makes those butterflies in your stomach flutter around like crazy.

you disagree and after lando moves his electronics out of the way and you two have play fought for way too long, you both settle down in the massive hotel bed. you tangle yourself in to lando's side and he sneakily grabs his phone to snap a picture before brain storming ways to get you to agree to him taking at least one picture and posting it on his well loved instagram account.

he had tried saying "you could revive the account, love. i've hardly posted this year because i'm waiting on my model of a girlfriend to agree to a one picture photo shoot." but that had just resulted in the driver getting hit in the face with the new throw pillows you had bought to decorate his bed with.

he can never really convince you to agree to getting your picture taken to he had to result in sneakily taken phone pictures and blurry, hand over the face, back of the head camera pictures. lando guess that it was batter than nothing at this point. you were pretty sure that if you let him he would cover the entire room with pictures of you and turn it into a shrine.

your birthday came along but with what you had told your sweet boyfriend it had felt like his own.

"you can post any pictures you have of me." you had granted your permission so he got to work. he knew he could only pick ten pictures for his actual instagram post and he certainly knew he could not spam the shit out of his story with all the pictures of you that he wanted to, no matter how much he wanted to. so he raked through the minute amount of pictures he had to find the ones he hoped you would love.

the first was the one on his lockscreen, a picture from miami, his first win. you were in lando's favourite dress of yours, although you could barely see it because the picture, taken by oscar, was of lando laying directly on top of you on the floor, your arms wrapped around his torso while his head was hiding in the crook of your neck. lando still donned those papaya fireproofs around his waist but all he remebers is that in that moment he had to get his hands on you.

the second is that silhouette picture from melbourne. it is easily one of lando's favourites just because he knew it was probably one of, if not the first, picture he had taken of you that you actually liked.

the third was a mirror picture of you both in your bedroom mirror, the phone covering your face as lando drapes himself over you. he liked this picture because your outfit was pretty but he was the only one who got to see how pretty your face was that night and how well your rosy cheeks went with the pink skirt.

the forth was a facetime screenshot. it must have been from the start of the season. you had a peel off sheet mask on your face and your hair was tied back into a bun as you had a hair mask in. your hands were mid air as you explained the plot to the book you were reading. lando had only screenshotted because of how cute he thought you looked but you and all of lando's fans had noticed lando's face in the corner, eyes crinkled with the power of the smile gracing his lips. the boy looked exactly like what he was, smitten.

the fifth was a picture of you in the paddock from getty images, the water mark still being present on the picture. the bright papaya headphones sitting on your head as you watch along with a worried expression. neither you or lando knew which race it was, lando just loved the picture.

the sixth, seventh and eighth were tied in together. the sixth had shown you on the floor, trying to assemble tony starks tower out of lego with a happy smile on your face. the seventh was a video of you from the next room. all you could hear was your shouting and cursing about how stupid lego was and how this was all lando's fault for letting you buy the stupid thing in the first place. the video then showed the ceiling moving as lando appeared in the room you were and and you beg him to come help you. the eighth is a picture of you standing next to the finished product in different clothes with shorter hair.

the ninth was a baby picture that lando adored of you and your brother. you were playing with his buzzlightyear and your brother stood to the side, crying his heart out. "menace from the start." lando had joked.

the tenth was the picture he had taken of you wrapped up in his arms the night of the melbourne picture. the memory behind it meant more than anything to the boy. the driver would never admit it but when he was sleeping alone in hotel beds, with you sometimes on the other side of the world, he would stare at the picture and pretend he was wrapped up in the duvet with you and everything was right in the world.

the caption for his post was something sweet and simple but you were overwhelmed with love for your boyfriend you did not even bother to read it.

"happy birthday, honey. i love you more and more every day." lando and whispered to you as you lay in each others arms that night.

[nyaagolor]

Thinking abt Ace Attorney Social media HCs

Phoenix: Technologically illiterate, doesn’t really know what social media is or how to use it and refuses to learn because the longer he keeps up the bit the funnier it gets

Edgeworth: Doesn’t particularly care for social media, but found out about tumblr through Maya and now has an anonymous Steel Samurai account. His tagging system is meticulous and he has all notifications turned off. He treats it like he does office work. He and Maya are mutuals. Doesn’t have a personal account to speak of

Maya: Runs a semi-popular canon url pink princess and steel samurai fan tumblr. Also has a personal Instagram that’s mostly her eating burgers

Pearl: Didn’t have social media for a long time because of Morgan, but Maya introduced her and she has a very inactive private Instagram. She’s also in charge of the Kurain Village socials, which are very neat and professional

Mia: Was technologically illiterate and died before the social media boom was completely inescapable so nada

Diego: Socials weren’t as big before he fell into a coma and afterwards he doesn’t care too much about his image so he has nothing. HOWEVER, Maya started a twitter called “dead philosopher wisdom” that’s just random Diegoisms. He’s doing NUMBERS on there but is unaware of it because he doesn’t use twitter

Franziska: Knows how social media works because she needs it for her job but doesn’t use it very often. Her account has like 2 posts on it and she mostly uses it to keep track of targets and online paper trails

Kay: Runs an instagram account called “Edgeworth where he shouldn’t be” that’s nothing but silly and embarrassing candids of Edgeworth. Oldbag won’t stop messaging her asking who she is and how she’s getting these pictures

Apollo: Has a twitter with two followers that he uses to retweet and comment on legal academia news. He’s super active on all the law forums and legal advice columns and unfortunately has definitely posted on r/AskALawyer on mutliple occasions. His real claim to fame, though, is the anonymous Instagram he runs for his cat Mikeko. It’s called “The Pawsecutor’s Office” and he dresses up Mikeko like all the prosecutors (Miles Edgepurrth, Clawvier Gavin, Franziska Von Catma, etc) for photoshoots and silly skits. It’s wildly popular and Apollo would die if he were revealed to be behind it

Klavier: Super popular across all platforms and loves being silly online. If Edgeworth saw all the thirst traps he was posting he would prolly have a heart attack

Kristoph: Has a very minimal personal account for professional reasons but his REAL online footprint is the dozens of alternate accounts he uses to cyberstalk people and send his brother hate mail

Athena: Perfectly normal social media user. Has personal accounts that she posts to occasionally with cute photos of what she’s doing. The only person using it correctly

Trucy: Insanely popular on socials for her magic act. Knows how to market herself online better than anyone. She has a smaller personal account where she occasionally posts silly things about the WAA

Blackquill: Ran an edgy anime Tumblr for years before his incarceration and was posting on AO3 a lot. He comes back after his release explaining the break between chapters of his latest fanfiction was due to him being put on death row for seven years and continues posting normally with no mention of his prison sentence ever again. When he finally posts another AMV it’s a joyous day indeed

[tkwrites]

Happy Birthday, Quinn - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Title: Happy Birthday, Quinn - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Summary: In an effort to get Quinn something he can’t get for himself, and with her friends’ encouragement, Sarah does something she never imagined she’d do before. When they finally celebrate his birthday together, Quinn opens several gifts he never expected. 

Warnings: It’s mostly fluff, but there is some anxiety about being in new, uncomfortable situations and some suggestive themes, but no actual smut.

Word Count: 2,700

Comments: Happy birthday to Quinn! 

I’ve been working on this piece for quite a long time. At least six months, tweaking it here and there to get the right themes and wording. I saved it for Quinns birthday because I can’t think of a better day for it to come into the world.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Happy Birthday, Quinn

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

“What do you give the guy who can get whatever he wants?” Sarah asked.

Emma paused, thoughtful. She knew what she would get Brady, but while they were best friends, he and Quinn were so different. 

“What if you gave him some photos?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Like a boudoir shoot or something. So he can have some really great pictures of you while he’s on the road.” 

Sarah felt herself flush. 

“It’s just an idea,” Emma emphasized. “Is there any lingerie he really likes?” 

“Not really,” she started, then it came to her, “there is this bikini he kind of went wild over this summer.” 

“Perfect,” Emma beamed. “You could do a beach photoshoot for him.” 

“I don’t know… Are you sure it's something he would even like?”

Emma gave her a deadpan look over the FaceTime connection even as she adjusted the baby. “You have a boyfriend who travels away from you for weeks at a time. You don't think he'd like having some pretty pictures of you while he's gone?” 

Sarah snorted, “okay. I get it. But where do I even start with that? Just have my roommates take some pictures?” 

“No!” Emma laughed, “ask one of the wives or girlfriends. They’ll know some photographers that will keep things quiet so it can be a little more professional.” 

Just as Emma predicted, when Sarah called Bella the next day, she did know someone.

As they discussed details, she even suggested they could go to her Uncles’ to use the beach across the street from their house. 

“Are you joking?” Sarah asked. “He’d have my hide if I showed up to take bikini photos for my boyfriend.”

Bella laughed and said she had some friends with private beaches and would get back to her if they could use one of theirs. 

When she called back just a few hours later, Sarah was a little surprised. 

“Thanks so much for your help with this,” she said.

“Of course. I love you, and I love Huggy, and I love finally seeing him really happy.” 

After they set up the details, including Bella booking a hair stylist and a makeup artist, which Sarah thought was a little extreme, Bella asked, “Do you want me and Meghan to come for moral support?” 

“That would be really nice,” Sarah said, breathing a sign of relief. “I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing here. I'm just trying to give Quinn something he'll really like for his birthday.” 

A week later, they drove to Bella’s friend's “cottage.” It was really a mansion, but who was she to judge?

The boys were in Victoria for training camp, so it was the perfect time to sneak away.

When Sarah came out in the bikini, Bella wolf whistled. “No wonder Huggy went wild for you in this. You look insane.” she said, looking her over approvingly. “He’s going to lose his mind over these photos.”

It took a long time for Sarah to feel comfortable. She felt too on display - too exposed, and like she was pretending to be something she wasn’t. She wasn’t a model. She didn’t know how to pose for photos or turn on sex appeal at the drop of a hat. 

As if sensing how stuck in her head she was, Meghan offered some support.

“Sarah,” she said, walking down the beach to her, “you’re taking photos for a man that’s already head over heels for you. No one else is going to see them but you and him - and us very briefly.”

She nodded, feeling a little better. She was doing this for Quinn. She could do this for Quinn. 

Taking the photographers advice, she posed and made eye contact with the camera. 

“There you go,” Bella encouraged. 

“Rock more onto your knees,” Heather, the photographer, instructed. “Good. Chin up a bit? Great. Now give me some of those sexy bedroom eyes.” 

Sarah pushed her hesitations aside, thought about Quinn on the other side of that camera, and tried to convey how much she wanted him. 

“Hot damn!” Meghan yelled. “You’ve got me hot and bothered, Sarah. Quinn doesn’t stand a chance.” 

Her exclamation sent Sarah into a fit of giggles that took her quite a while for her to come down from.

Once she’d stopped laughing and settled back into the situation, they got a ton more photos, including a few of her, Bella and Meghan, the latter two in their street clothes, while Sarah still sported her bikini, laughing as the surf swirled around their ankles. 

Not for the first time, Sarah understood how being a WAG really could be a support group. 

They spent the evening of his birthday together at home, ordering in from Quinn's favorite restaurant. 

By the time they got to opening gifts, Sarah was feeling nervous and giddy. She left a small pile of presents on the table in front of the gray suede couch along with a bouquet of flowers because “men hardly ever get flowers, but you like them.” It was full of frothy looking, multi colored blooms mixed with greenery. He found he did like them. No one had ever given him flowers before.

He opened a set of cufflinks shaped like tiny bombs. They were attached to a card that read, Love is the Bomb. It made him laugh, and he told her, truthfully, that he loved them. 

“They’re made from recycled landmines cleared out of Laos from the Vietnam War,” she explained. “I know you really liked that Fields of Fire book. I thought you might like the connection,” she added. 

“That’s really cool,” he said, touched. He rarely wore french cut dress shirts, but now that he had a pair of unique cufflinks, maybe he would wear the ones he did have a little more. 

“Thank you,” he said, leaning over to press a kiss to her lips. 

“You’re welcome.”

Then, he unwrapped a vibrator. 

Raising one eyebrow, he told her, “I don’t think this is a gift for me.” 

“Let me explain,” she said, reaching for the box. 

She worked the hot pink, U-shaped device out of the packaging and turned it on. “It’s bluetooth and app enabled,” she said, pulling out her phone so she could connect the devices.

“Okay.” 

“Give me your phone,” she said, holding out her hand. 

He did, and she put in the code to unlock it before downloading an app — she had to hand it back to him to approve the purchase — and linking his phone to the toy.

“Now, anytime I turn it on and connect my phone, it’ll send you an alert.” 

“Okay.”

“And then you can control it.”

Realization lit his face, “oh, so I could be across the room or something?” 

“Or across the country,” she said with a mischievous grin. 

“Wait. For real?” 

Sarah nodded. “The reviews from long distance couples are all really good.”

“I wish we had it this summer,” he said, picking up the toy. It whirred to life in his palm when he tapped the button on his phone.

“That’s what gave me the idea.”

An eager expression took over his face. “Can we go try it?”

“Hold on, Romeo, I have one more gift for you.”

Tearing his eyes from the buzzing pink contraption, Quinn found Sarah biting her lip and looking at him, unsure. He’d never seen her so nervous. He wondered if she might be getting ready to do some kind of strip tease. 

Excitement fizzed in his stomach. 

Instead, she reached behind her, pulling out a small silver picture frame.  

“What’s this?” he asked, taking it from her. It held blank black glass.

“It’s a digital picture frame,” she explained. “It’s not so much the gift as what’s on it.” 

Quinn felt his eyebrows knit together. “I don’t understand.” 

“Just,” she reached over and held down the power button. 

An involuntary noise, something between a gasp and a groan, gurgled in Quinn's throat when the frame booted up. 

It showed Sarah, on the beach in that fucking black bikini, posing like she was on the cover of a magazine. She was laughing as she swept her wind blown hair away from her face. 

All those intense, lusty feelings from the cabin crashed over him. It wasn't as good as the real thing, of course, but God, if it didn't make him feel things.

“Sarah,” his voice sounded breathy - shallow and needy.

The photo faded into another. Still, that goddamn bikini, still the beach, but a different pose. This time, she was sporting a cocky smile, like she knew he would like it. 

He did. He couldn’t believe it. 

The slideshow continued on, all of the photos were on the same beach, in the same bikini. In some, she was standing, others laying down. There was even a short, looping video, or live photo, or whatever it was, of her crawling toward the camera - never breaking eye contact. 

His tongue felt weighted with longing. 

When the last photo de-pixelated, his eyes blew wide. 

Holy. 

Fuck.

She was kneeling in the sand, knees spread as the water raced up the beach around her.

She had this sultry look in her eyes as they looked straight into his soul. Her lips were parted, just slightly, as if she was waiting to be kissed. 

“I thought you could take the pictures on the road with you,” she said quietly. 

When he tore his eyes away from her face, they caught on her hand, fisted into the wet sand, almost as if she were holding herself back.

A bolt of energy rippled up his stomach, making it flutter and twist in longing.

Looking up from the frame, he met Sarah's eyes and blinked a few times, trying to pull himself back to the present.

“I hope It's not too cheesy or anything,” she said shyly. The photos were returned long before Quinn's birthday came around, and Sarah blushed every time she looked at them. She had no idea she could look like that. It was proof that the right photographer, lighting, and positioning could do wonders. 

“It's…” His voice croaked, and he had to clear his throat. This was honestly something he never would have expected from Sarah. 

He cleared his throat again. “It's - I don't even know what to say,” he confessed. 

“That bad?” she asked, voice hesitant  

“No!” It came out too loud. “It’s — fuck.” He ran a hand into his hair. He didn't know what to say. He was in shock. “I mean, I can't believe…” 

“You're not making any sense.”

He didn’t have enough blood in his brain to reason properly.

Finally, he managed to get his thoughts in order. “I love it. It's like you gave me my own Swimsuit Edition, except it’s you instead of some model I don't care about.”

Her shoulders relaxed. 

“Were you worried I wouldn't like it?” 

“No, not really. Like, I knew objectively you would, but I've never done anything like this before.” 

The fact that she did it for him burrowed into his heart and rioted around his mind.

“I was a little surprised,” he admitted.

“Emma suggested it,” Sarah confessed. 

Quinn made a mental note to tell her thank you.

The shock of the photos pulled his mind completely from everything else. He didn’t even notice Sarah had picked up the vibrator, turned it off, and nestled it back into its box. 

“Do you want some dessert?” she asked, standing. “I got some of those chocolate from Gem you like.” Normally, she would have bought him a cake, but he tried not to eat carbs during the season. So fruit and chocolate would have to do.

Beaming, Quinn pulled her into his lap, “you’re spoiling me.”

“You deserve to be spoiled on your birthday,” she said, turning to brush her lips over his. 

He fell into the kiss, glad to finally be touching her. 

“So what do you think about that dessert?” she asked when he broke away to nuzzle his nose under her ear.

Quinn sucked in a deep breath of her perfume before blowing on her neck, making her squirm. “I think I have dessert right here,” he murmured, tightening his grip on her waist. 

She snorted. 

His hands wandered up to her chest, feeling the curves of her breasts in his palms. “What kind of chocolate did you get?” he asked. 

“A few,” she said, leaning into him, “I got that dark mint one you liked, and the rum one, and some new ones. I don’t really remember. I’m pretty sure one has peanut butter.” They’d discovered the chocolate shop while wandering the city together. Made with all local, organic ingredients, they were delicious, and though not necessarily healthy, it was better for Quinn to eat a few pieces of chocolate than cake. “I’ll go get them.”

Coming back upstairs with the chocolates, Sarah slid the open box onto the table. Quinn was looking at the picture frame again, shaking his head gently as if he couldn’t believe it. 

“Here, I think this one is pistachio,” she said, picking up a chocolate with green stripes on the top, “or maybe it's matcha?” 

He took a bite of the proffered candy, his eyes fluttering closed at the sweet and salty flavor. 

“Pistachio,” she declared after putting the rest of it in her mouth and licking off the chocolate that had melted on her fingers. 

He hummed in agreement, eyes caught on her tongue. 

“Oh, before I forget,” she pulled a USB drive from her pocket and handed it to him.

“What’s this?” 

“The pictures are on that.” 

A relieved breath escaped his lips. 

“You didn’t think I was just going to make you take that frame around, did you?”

“I don’t know," he said, laughing, "I didn’t think...” 

“You can put them on your phone or whatever,” she said. 

“Can I…” he paused, mentally looping through slideshow again, “do you mind if I use them as my phone background?”

“They're your gift, and it's your phone,” Sarah said instead of voicing her concern that someone other than him might catch a glimpse of her like this. She trusted that Quinn wouldn’t go around showing them off to other people. 

She picked up the mint chocolate and took a bite. When she offered him the other half, he took her fingers in his mouth to get every sweet drop. 

A week later, Quinn, Conor, and Brock were at a restaurant in Winnipeg. Each of them had their phone face up on the table in front of their dinner plate.

Quinns screen lit up. 

“You didn’t turn off your notifications? Rookie mistake Hughes.” 

Quinn scoffed, “it doesn’t count if you turn off your notifications.” 

“Of course it counts,” Conor argued.

“Why would you touch your phone if it’s not going off, dipshit?”

“I think he’s got a point,” Brock admitted with a defeated sigh. 

“Do you have yours off too?” Quinn asked. 

Brock shrugged. 

“You have to turn them back on. We have to be on a level playing field here.”

The other men reached for their phones, grumbling. 

Quinn’s went off again as they put theirs back down. 

“Is that Sarah?” Conor asked, craning his neck to look at the photo.

“Yeah, why?” he asked, resisting the urge to pick it up. Whoever touched their phone first had to pay for dinner. 

The lock screen was the photo of Sarah laughing, trying to tame her hair as it blew in the wind. 

After looking through all the pictures several times, Quinn had decided this was his favorite. He could almost hear her laughing whenever he saw it. Plus, he didn’t want anything too racy where anyone else could see it. He kept those for himself. 

“Is that the photoshoot Meg helped her with?” 

“I don’t know?” he said. “She did it for my birthday.” It felt a little like bragging – which he was, if he was honest with himself – to say it out loud.  

“Yeah, that’s it,” Brock said. “Bells told me about it during training camp. She and Meg helped Sarah set it up.”

“Oh,” Quinn said, not quite sure what else to say. The fact that she’d reached out for help so she could do this for him, even when she was uncomfortable, meant the world to him. 

“I wish Meg’d taken bikini photos for me while they were at it,” Conor mumbled. 

Quinn felt a smile beam over his face. 

“You are one lucky man, Huggy.”

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[oracle-of-dream]

Hiiii I really like your work and yes so anyway here goes nothing !

Could you maybe write a top!yeonjun x bttm male reader ?

Where the reader is the 6th member of txt and the plot is up to you (the reader does have a praise kink, tho ... but other than that, I will let you do as you wish ! )

Getting Close

Minors DNI

Summary: You're the 6th member of TXT, a recent addition to the group, and you're having trouble getting comfortable with the members. As the oldest, Yeonjun takes on the job of caring for the newest member...

Warnings: Male Reader, Top!Yeonjun, Blowjobs, Deepthroat, Cum Drinking, Corruption Kink (lowkey)

Wordcount: 1.9k

The day wasn't too bad but you couldn't help but feel exhausted. It was a photoshoot, an interview, and then you had vocal lessons at the end of the day before being released back to the dorm. You did a lot of work with the other members one-on-one and it felt awkward working with them in less than a whole group setting...

At the photo shoot, you had to work with Taehyun. He was so professional and put together, you felt like a stick figure next to the Mona Lisa. You struggled through the shots with him, trying to lean toward him without being so stiff–but his face never gave away how he was feeling... You wondered if we were annoyed by you slowing him down. Then there was the radio interview with Beomgyu. His personality is something... different. You didn't know how to handle his energy or build off him well, so he spoke for most of the interview. The interviewer commented on your silence, asking if you were introverted. You just agreed with their guess so you'd have to speak less, saving yourself more embarrassment than you were already sitting through. You only remember saying "Hello" and "Goodbye".

Your manager had gotten onto you about trying harder to get progressively better with the group but the members were already so close to each other–there was no space for you...

Lastly, vocal lessons with Yeonjun.

You walked into the practice room, ten minutes early to warm up alone. The last thing you needed was to embarrass yourself in front of Yeonjun–Hybe's prodigy.

You wrapped up your vocal exercises just as the door opened. You stood up and bowed at the door, not looking at who walked in. "Hello," You muttered nervously.

"There's no need to bow, it's just me," Yeonjun said as he stepped into the room. He had a white jacket, a green tank top, and a white beanie. He smirked at you. "What are you being so cute for?"

You sat down, feeling your ears get warmer. "Sorry–I thought you were the instructor."

"I am your instructor today." Yeojun patted your head as he moved past you to the other seat. "The actual teacher couldn't make it so he told me what you'd been working on and asked me to help you."

"Like–together?"

"Yes, together! We're a team now." You'd always practiced alone with the teacher, even recording your debut–alone in the booth. You'd sang in front of fans and the members already, but only songs you'd spent hours and hours practicing. Yeonjun noticed you hesitating. "Are you nervous? I won't judge you, we're a team." Yeonjun emphasized the team by putting his hand on your thigh and shaking it.

"I know we're a team but–"

"No, buts! We're a team. Period. It takes time to adjust, but all the members are here for you–especially me."

You nodded silently. When you were still a trainee, you loved TXT and their songs were always the best to you. Even for monthly evaluation, you'd do a TXT song. Any time you'd hear they were in the building you'd silently hope you'd catch even a glimpse of them while they moved through their day. On the day you were told that you'd be joining TXT instead of debuting in a new group, your heart soared–not realizing it meant you'd have to be with your favorites all the time. The day you were moved into the dorm, the members looked surprised to see you. Apparently, they'd only been told you were coming earlier that day. It was probably unfair to them how they worked from the ground up and you were added in after they'd already poured so much work into their careers. It was tough not to feel like you were riding their coattails–even fans commented on how your spot was undeserved... But Yeonjun's eyes made you forget that horrible pit that had been sitting in your stomach.

You took a chance. After a deep breath, you asked, "How can I get closer to everyone?" Your eyes were wide with wonder.

Yeonjun smiled at you. "You're so cute... Maybe I don't want you to be close to everyone–why not just me?"

"Uhh–"

"I'm kidding, y/n. You should be close to all of us!" Yeonjun slipped his beanie off and shook out his hair. "We'll try taking it one step at a time. We can start getting closer and work together on getting the others in, okay?"

You knew Yeonjun was flirty on camera with the members, but you didn't know he was flirty off camera too. You couldn't tell if he was being serious or if it was just his personality... "Sure, that sounds good."

"That's great. And I've got a great way for us to get close fast." Yeonjun put his hand out to you. "If you want, then we can do it too. All the boys have done it to get closer to each other."

"Just tell me what I need to do." You took Yeonjun's hand. He immediately placed it on his crotch, pressing it against his half-hard cock. You took your hand back, eyes wide. "O-Oh I–"

Yeonjun gently leaned forward, sliding his hand over yours as he gently placed his lips on yours. "Easy. Take it slow," He instructed as he moved your hand again. Right back where he wanted it. His hips rolled into your hand, forcing his bulge to brush between your fingers as his hands cupped your face to hold you in the kiss. His plump lips tasted like strawberries, and his breath was cool and fresh with a hint of mint. When he pulled away, he looked you deep in your eyes. "Okay?"

You nodded. You didn't know what to do, but you knew that you didn't want to fight against it either.

"We're still in the building, so we don't need to get too involved today. Want my hands or my mouth?"

Your brain malfunctioned at his proposition, still trying to process the kiss.

"Cutie, stick with me. If you leave, how can I make you happy?"

"I don't know what to do..." You awkwardly cupped Yeonjun's bulge, feeling his pulse in your hands.

"Did you want to see mine first? That will make it easier." Yeonjun unbuttoned his pants and leaned back. "Go ahead, take them off. You've got me wherever you want me." Yeonjun's voice was a little deeper and softer, almost whispering. His eyes glazed over as he looked at you, waiting for you to do something. Following his lead, you tug at his pants–opening them enough to show his underwear. "Good boy, now the rest," Yeonjun cooed.

"Are you sure?" You asked for confirmation, but your eyes were still glued to his bulge. Yeonjun knew he had you.

"Only if you want it. I won't force you." Yeonjun started to zip his pants up when you stopped him.

"No! I–We should be closer because we're a team."

He nodded. "Now you're getting it, you're a part of my team. And everyone on the team does this. We can't date, and bringing people home is problematic, so we take care of each other's needs..." He stroked your ear. "Can you take care of me? Or do you need me to take care of you first?" He placed his hand on your knee, slowly sliding it up your thigh watching your expression for discomfort. You moved to the edge of your seat, matching Yeonjun, forcing his hand to touch you. "At the same time, then?"

You nodded as you slipped your hand into Yeonjun's underwear. He did the same, slender fingers dipping past your waistband. His cock's tip peaked out from his boxers and as you stroked him, it stretched further out until he slid his underwear down enough for all of him to stand proudly. Maybe you felt too shy, but you stopped Yeonjun from taking off your underwear.

"Okay, keep them on. I can still touch you like this..." While still stroking your cock, Yeonjun kissed you, squeezing your member every few moves to make you flinch.

You copied him, matching his pace and pattern.

"Oh, an observant boy? I expected you to be more playful like Beomgyu..." Yeonjun chuckled as he kissed your nose. "Can I have more, please?" He stood up, placing a hand on your shoulder to keep you seated. His cock, dripping with precum, pointed at you. "Can you suck it, please?" The way he said please make your cock twitch. He wasn't begging, it was more like a strong suggestion. He didn't want to force you to suck his dick, but he really wanted you to do it.

"I can," You said shyly as you leaned forward.

"Thank you, baby. Take your time with it, there's no rush." Yeonjun rubbed your head, letting his hand rest on you as you opened your mouth. You instinctually closed your eyes as you wrapped your lips around him. The feeling of his eyes watching you work was too much, you couldn't look back at him. Your tongue made the first move, swirling around the tip. Yeonjun's moans encouraged you, showing how he enjoyed it. You slowly sank deeper, using your hands to stroke the part that you couldn't cover. "Don't push yourself," Yeonjun moaned. You understood he was trying to be kind, but it made you want to push yourself hearing him be so patient for you. You bobbed your head, moving lower each time until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. "Jeez, you're so good. It's so deep in there..." His hand that was resting on your head mixed itself in your hair, making you more excited. You deepthroated him, gagging and gurgling on him, making so much noise. "Y/n, p-please, don't hurt yourself. I–fuck," Yeonjun tried to speak but you didn't give him any time to breathe.

You hollow your cheeks, taking him completely.

Yeonjun's eyes bulged as his knees buckled. "I'm cumming, m'cumming! Stop!" He tried to push you off him, even pulling your hair slightly, but you didn't budge as you held him inside your mouth. Yeonjun realized what you wanted and stopped pushing, instead pushing you down. "F-Fine, then drink it all if you want."

You felt his warm cum shooting straight down your throat, his cock pulsing and twitching as his hips rolled his pelvis into your face. Your nose scraped against his stomach a few times and your eyes rolled back–finally opening.

"Such a good boy, so good. The best!" Yeonjun moaned praises repeatedly until you slid him out of your mouth. His knees finally collapsed and dropped him back into his seat. He breathed heavily to catch his breath. "You didn't need to do so much... for me..."

You wiped a few tears out of your eyes. "I wanted to. I liked it. Hearing you tell me how good I did..."

"Oh?" Yeonjun smirked. "Then I'll tell you when you're doing a good job every time. And I'll make sure the others will too."

"The others?"

"Yeah. After today, they'll want to get close to you too..." Yeonjun kissed your cheek. "But remember who's your favorite. And don't forget I was your first in the group."

You nodded, a plush on your cheeks as you cleaned up your own mess. You hadn't even realized you'd stoked yourself to completion while sucking off your bandmate...

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 3 – The One About That Guy, That Girl, and the Dragon

I’m just going to jump right on my magical pixie pony for this one – because why the fuck not? But, I promise this speculation has a foundation of fact. So, there’s that.

On Sunday, November 10, 2024 – seemingly out of nowhere – Zoe McConnell posted to her IG stories a picture of Nicola from a photoshoot from November 2022.  Yes, you read that right – 2022. Zoe reposted this to her stories exactly two years from the day she first posted it to her grid.

Why?

Uh, happy anniversary to the picture? [feel free to scratch your head in confusion because I sure as shit did – but only for a second]

Who cares about a photoshoot from 2022?

And, don’t even get me started on the weird ass suggestion this was a push for Nicola to win – what bullshit award show is up next? – People’s Choice Awards. Actually, do get me started on that because that theory just makes my eyes roll.  The only connection I see here is that the dress Nicola is wearing was from her 2022 Glamour Awards appearance.  What exactly does that have to do with People’s Choice? Nothing.

Now, forget all about that shit and keep reading.

What IS interesting about this post from Zoe is that, if you’re a certain creator or anyone who has ever read this certain creator’s timeline, you’d know that this picture is referenced in said timeline (P.S. My disclaimer today is that I am not a fan of said creator but that doesn’t negate the information she has distributed to the masses).

Here’s what happened two years ago:

On November 9, 2022, Nicola posted one of Zoe’s images to her own grid, thanking Glamour for her award. Luke liked this post.

On that same day, Nicola posted a second set of pictures from that same photoshoot. Luke did not like that post.

The following day, November 10, 2022, Zoe posted one of those additional pictures to her own grid. Luke liked that post from Zoe’s grid. But, he did not go back and like Nicola’s second grid post from the day before. Why? Why go to Zoe's grid instead of Nicola's to like the pictures? I could speculate on this for the next eight minutes but I’ll let you come to your own conclusion.

So, this past Sunday, Zoe posts to her stories a link to that November 10, 2022 grid post that Luke liked. Nicola reposted Zoe’s story to her own IG stories. If you’re a Nicola fan, I can probably guess what you're going to do next. You’re going to click on Nicola’s story – which takes you to Zoe’s page – and when you click on Zoe’s stories – it takes you to the original November 10, 2022 post, which Luke liked at that time.

Odd, that.

And, by “odd,” I mean odd in the fact that no one cares about a two-year-old picture. I mean, really, who fucking cares? Except Lukolas who see Luke’s like on the original post.

Let’s keep moving.

On November 11, 2024, Zoe was right back at it. She posted to her IG stories another picture of Nicola from the same photoshoot. This time it was the one Zoe originally posted back on November 11, 2022. Yay, another anniversary. Zoe put a cutesy little caption that read: “Princess Peach.” Nicola did not reshare this story. I mean, at this point, we’re all watching Zoe, right? No need to reshare because our Lukola interest has been peaked, in my opinion.

Then, a few hours after Zoe’s post, Rachell Smith, also a photographer, posted an old picture of Luke to her grid. This picture isn’t as old as Zoe’s but it does go back to May 2024. Rachell follows it up with an IG story of the same image with the song, “Lifting You” by Jungle. Take a moment and go look up the lyrics and meaning of that song. Fine, fine, fine. I’ll just tell you. The song is about being deeply committed and doing whatever is needed to make a relationship work (this, per Mr. Google). Rachell’s caption? “[O]ur knight and shining [Luke].”

Well, fuckety fuck fuck fuck.

We have a princess and we have a knight.

Interesting.

I mean, we grew up with this idea that the knight in shining armor saved the princess, right?

To be honest, yesterday, I had no clue what that was all about (and I really didn't care -- the seas have been rough for the USS Lukola lately) so I went about my day like normal.

But, this morning, the wheels and cogs in my head started working together.

I wondered how that ever came about – the idea that a knight saved a princess.

So, I asked Mr. Google: “Where did the story about a knight rescuing a princess originate?”

Okay, yeah, I see Perseus and Andromeda…and in Western culture….Saint George and the Dragon…

Wait --

What?

Saint George and the Dragon?

Nope. Not possible.

But, I was certain it was.

I scurried over to Tiktok to find the post I’d seen a few months earlier about the medallion Luke wore for a long time – the one Nicola allegedly gave him. The TT creator believed that the necklace depicted none other than Saint George and the Dragon! Now, I must add that this has never been confirmed but the TT creator did make a fairly convincing argument for it. This is also the necklace Luke was allegedly wearing in the “Polin” picture that was released simultaneously by Nicola and Luke on October 21, 2024 (based on the chain of the necklace he was wearing).

Delulu?

Yeah, maybe.

But, we also can’t make this shit up.

Edit (11/14/2024): Today, Luke's People Magazine photoshoot came out. Guess who his photographer was? Zoe McConnell.

Again, we can't make this shit up.

[saerins]

PREV: #005 THE ICE SURRENDERS 𖧧 #006: COMFORT IN FAMILIARITY 𖧧 NEXT: #007 TWO STUBBORN ꒰ series masterlist ꒱

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — there’s a lot going on in life. there’s a lot expected of you. both of you. sometimes love is all it takes. and sometimes, love is not enough.

content: itoshi sae x female reader. smut/fluff/angst. tw: making out, dry humping, oral (male receiving), profanity, they tiptoe around their awkwardness, lots of being needy, clingy, sae’s a little shameless & so are you. word count: 7.5k

༝༚༝༚ it’s finally here !! the next chapter haha to whoever’s still reading & waiting for this , thank you for still being here :’) i appreciate you more than you’ll ever know <3 also yay !! finally you’ll find out whether sae & bianca fucked :p (psa about taglist at the end of the chapter !!)

there’s something very foreign about waking up in peace. very foreign, but very welcome. 

sunlight filters nicely through the half-closed blinds of the guest room. the paint on the walls don’t chip, don’t leave anything for you to stare at, can’t wonder whether the paint job would come undone first before you.

the bed is soft. doesn’t have those annoying noises the springs make when you get up and stretch. the room is cold from the air conditioning, but the slight warmth of the sun that bounces on your skin is a nice contrast.

you feel light.

the events of last night leave much to your imagination. you have no idea if last night was too much, if asking for a kiss was too much.

but sae kissed you himself—it shouldn’t be, right?

you find you never quite know with him. you really should get out there and deal with it.

it’s 7am but something tells you sae should already be up. he’s a soccer player with a tendency to make the best of his days, there’s no way he’s not up and ready yet.

true to your guess, by the time you awkwardly peek into the living room, there’s a note waiting for you on the coffee table.

got a photoshoot till night, help yourself to anything in the house.

his penmanship leaves much to be desired, unlike the other parts of him. an indication of how little he actually writes.

sae could’ve just texted you this, but you guess even he’s feeling at a loss after last night.

which both of you think must be stupid; it’s just a kiss.

work is already settled for you. sumi offered to help you speak to mr tatsuji. the interview with sae early on really does work miracles. it’s so easy to curry favours now.

a three-day break from work because sumi thought you might need more time off so she conveniently told your boss that you’re nursing a fever.

where do you find friends like her at work nowadays?

you plop yourself down on sae’s leather couch, rife with the kind of comfort that’s alien to you. you definitely owe sumi one. sae, too. 

you’ll figure out ways to repay sumi soon. there has to be someone else on the team that you can convince for an interview under her name. you’re already calculating possibilities between oliver aiku and shuto sendou.

but as for sae, you find yourself drawing a blank.

what can you do for someone who already has everything? what kind of benefits can you extend?

you’re feeling even worse as the clock continues to tick, realising that you’d probably never be able to measure up to someone like him.

your feet carry you to the balcony before you know it, the chilly morning air hitting your face like the wake up call you need.

sae’s not really like anyone else you’ve known before. he’s a normal, sane-enough human—nearly the polar opposite of how eita is, though, so maybe that’s why your head’s devoid of ideas.

you groan, elbows perched on the wooden railing lining the edges of the balcony, palms pressed against your cheekbones as you desperately try to manifest an idea in your head.

he can lend you his shirt. he can extend a space in his house. he can give you that kiss he remembers you wanted.

but you can’t think of one measly idea of what to do for him in return.

you can think of one idea of how to get there, to get your answer, but you can’t shake the notion that it’s kind of stupid and kind of shameless. 

you juggle the degree to which each attribute bothers you and ultimately decide to just go ahead with it anyway.

“what is it, idiot?”

eita’s as friendly as always, on the other side of the line, voice a low rasp, obviously stirred from a deep sleep.

“can i ask you for your opinions?”

a sigh from the other line, as if he expects something completely stupid.

“yeah, sure.”

“and promise not to lecture me!”

eita pauses. you hear rustling on his end, probably getting up because he’s gotten curious and invested in the conversation now.

“depends, what the fuck did you do?”

he acts as if you’re the only one out of the two of you that does stupid, stupid things.

“nothing stupid, thank you very much.” (yet. possibly.) “but… do you have any idea what sae likes?”

it’s a long shot. a really long one. eita would probably have a better chance at guessing an AV star’s favourite dish. wouldn’t hurt to try, though.

eita makes a loud, confused noise. warranted.

you think.

“uh… i don’t know, bianca?”

a pause.

“i’m joking.”

it still hit your sore spot. the nagging reminder that there’s more to sae and bianca than meets the eye that just gets sprung back into the forefront of your temporal lobe.

“well, i’m serious!” you choose to ignore it.

another sigh from eita. you can practically envision him on his bed, duvet carelessly discarded to the side, scratching the back of his head.

“look, all i know is that he hates french fries and loves his routines, and oh, the only girl he’s ever admitted liking is momoko sakura.”

eita says it all in one breath and waits for your response like you’re supposed to appreciate it. the last one nearly made you vomit before you realise it’s a fucking tv show.

if you’re going to get help, you’re not going to get it from him.

“oh, he’s more of an ass guy than a boob guy, if you need to know.”

“what? eita!”

“i’m serious.”

you don’t really know whether you can trust him. even if you do, what the heck are you supposed to do with that information? jiggle your ass randomly in front of itoshi sae?

“thanks, eita.” you’re evidently bummed out. that doesn’t cancel out your actual gratitude that eita didn’t just hang up on you. you consider it a big enough surprise that he even tried.

“wait, why do you ask?”

his voice comes out all rushed, like he’s just now waking up and realising it’s not like you to ask him something like this out of the blue.

it’s probably not the greatest idea to tell him where you are and why you’re there, but you don’t actually like lying to your friends so you cough up the information without much persuasion.

“so what, are you guys a thing now?”

it’s fair of him to ask. you conveniently left out the kiss though, so maybe eita’s jumping the gun here.

“no, we’re just… getting to know each other.”

“uh huh.”

it sounds almost accusatory.

suddenly you don’t know what to say to the one you’re always talking around.

“well, if you need me, call me,” he says, more laconic than you’re used to. still, all things considered, you guess you can’t really blame him.

the discontent in his voice is apparent, the lack of intonation eating you up with guilt.

you retreat back into the living room, into the warm embrace of the single-seater, hoping that the softness of it would swallow the tornado in you up whole.

the rest of the morning is spent on your phone and laptop, between brainstorming ideas on what you can do for sae and replying to any of your colleagues who have no respect for the aspect of a time off.

after eventually deciding that nothing you think of can actually be good enough, you settle for just asking him straight.

yes, you’ll ask him later when he’s back and just be straight up with him about it. that way, you won’t waste your efforts on something vapid and sae would actually like it.

come afternoon, you dare yourself to fish out another shirt from his closet because you opened his fridge only to find absolutely nothing inside but a few bottles of salted kombucha. (which is absolutely not a qualifying substitute for lunch.)

it also won’t do for you to be wearing sae’s national jersey out to the supermarket and bringing more attention to yourself than necessary, so you tiptoe into his room even though he’s not there, in pursuit of a completely plain (or at least a more vague) t-shirt.

freely traversing his apartment like this makes you feel more than what you are, but you shake that thought away.

and there you were thinking eita was the one jumping the gun.

by the time the sun gives way to the moon and sae trudges his way back home—with a small spring in his steps that he can’t ignore—he walks into the apartment, reminding himself to say he’s home in the process.

it’s his first time coming back home to an apartment that’s not empty. it’s not something he thought he’d want to get used to. but knowing who’s on the other side of the door, he thinks it might be nice.

“hey, you’re back!”

there’s the usual uplifting lilt in your voice that he can’t ignore, can’t forget.

the sound of bounding footsteps that he can usually hear from the other apartments are infuriating but the ones that come from you makes his heart beat just a little bit quicker.

“hey,” he greets, the dull of his voice nearly being betrayed by the light in his eyes.

three seconds and you’re right in front of him, peering at him with inquisitive eyes. you do that cute head-tilt thing you always do when you have questions.

“what’s that?”

you point your finger in the direction of his neck, and he cranes his head toward the mirror hung on the corridor to see what you mean.

a big red lipstick stain on the side of his neck. or mauve, as the makeup artist calls it.

sae sighs to himself. so that’s what his assistant meant when she tried to call him back saying they’re not done with him yet.

“are you too eager to go home or something?”

that’s what she asked when he ignored them and left the set the moment everything was over.

“oh, uh, photoshoot.”

it’s always simple, his answers. what’s not simple are bianca’s natural reactions. he can just envision her face if she was in your position instead; the slight twitch in the corner of her lips, the pout that comes after to mask her disdain, the questioning to come.

that’s why it’s a built-in reaction for sae to elaborate.

“it was—”

“i see.”

you both speak at the same time. sae doesn’t know what to think.

the slight confusion on your face is represented by the raise of your brows, before it quickly gets replaced by a giggle, and then your fingers find the box of tissues and hand one to him.

“wanna wipe it off?” you ask. a simple question that makes him question a lot, actually.

only because he’s been conditioned to think all girls are a carbon copy of bianca behaviour-wise and you just happen to prove otherwise.

“oh! or did you want to wash up first?”

how long has he been standing there idly again?

sae just blinks as he stands in his doorway, stupid and dazed. he gets his bearings a few seconds later when you do that cute head-tilt thing in the other direction. he can’t stand seeing anymore of it or he’ll get an untimely reminder of how you tasted last night.

“yeah, i’ll go wash up, we can eat after.”

he still takes a piece of tissue without using it. he assumes you haven’t eaten dinner and only remembers he probably should ask first but he’s already closing his bedroom door behind him, his person of interest on the other side.

this idle state of confusion, of questioning his every move and every word; it’s not an experience he’s ever had before and he thinks it isn’t very pleasant.

on the field he never has doubts. always plan after plan, carefully crafted by the milliseconds. when something doesn’t work, he tries another. dribbles it past the troublesome one, pass it to one of his forwards. the one that can score.

it’s easy on the field.

easier than it is in front of you.

it still proves the same when he gets out of the showers, mind refreshed and vitality rejuvenated, only to come face to face with home-cooked dinner.

foreign, all alien, very welcome.

you’re rambling on about the three dishes you made and how you’re not sure if he’d like it. sae’s all in his head trying to think of excuses so that you can keep staying here.

for someone who’s spent most of his adulthood keeping people at arms’ length, your presence in his life now is half-exciting, half-concerning.

if he’s heard correctly from his assistant who nags him constantly about a possible budding love life at the height of his career, it’s how people get screwed over. how their plays get fucked up.

if she’s any reliable.

sae used to think he wouldn’t let anything come in the way of him and his career, because his career’s the only relationship he ever thought of having. until now. until you’re sitting on the side of the dining table that used to always be empty because he refuses to let anyone in.

until your smile paints the dull bland walls with colour for once and your food tastes unsettlingly like home. the kind of home he hasn’t visited in a while. the kind where it’s out of sight, out of mind that people don’t realise what they miss.

“how is it?”

you’re grimacing, like you’re expecting something bad. as if sae’s some sort of food critic. as if sae’s ever been anything but subjectively nicer to you.

“it’s not bad.”

really, he has nothing to compare it to. the last time he ever had home-cooked food was probably before he even started playing soccer. everything’s a blur when he tries to recall it, just the vague imagery of him and rin side by side with their legs dangling in the air of the high stools while their mother plates all the food he didn’t bother to memorise when he was, what, six?

he wonders if his brother remembers anything.

it’s enough strain on his mind that he’s finding this type of humdrum fascinating, when it’s with you. it doesn’t help that your hips brush when both of you wash the dishes together.

sae doesn’t really know what he’s doing and he only now realises that you went out earlier and got the groceries. he hasn’t thanked you yet, has he? should he?

everyday courtesy is lost on him.

it’s only after the dishes are washed and the countertops are wiped down that sae thinks maybe he should just express his gratitude.

“tha—”

“thank you, by the way.”

the both of you really need to stop saying shit at the same time.

you got it out first. sae’s such a loser. sae lets you continue.

“i know i’m imposing on you a lot, but…” your words get lost on you, and sae can sense the lack of explanation on your circumstances is a choice.

he wants to know you. there’s a stinging irritation in the back of his head knowing that otoya knows you better than he does.

it’s selfish. he knows. but sae’s always been selfish. in a sense.

“you can stay here as long as you need.”

it’s just sae’s pathetic attempt to ride on what you’re saying, to hopefully keep you here a little longer because somehow the walls don’t seem to suffocate when he comes back to you. the air seems clearer and the house becomes more like home, if he dares to say he knows anything of what that’s like.

he tries to gauge your reaction, trying not to crane his neck too far to the side to make it so obvious that he’s staring.

you’re comfortably perched on the couch, right next to him. there’s an annoyingly small gap in between you. he nearly misses the contact. your feet are on the cushion, hugged close to your chest, your eyes gazing at the little space of nothing between the air in front of you and his coffee table.

normally, he’d think that if someone extends an offer that they know you’d like, it’ll be taken without question. so he wonders why you still need to think.

his first guess is that you have a penchant need to not owe anyone anything.

his mind strays to how good you look in his other shirt. whenever you happened to take it. he’ll probably give you his entire closet if you ask for it.

half exciting, half concerning.

“thank you.” but you hesitate. you’re not looking at him yet. sae takes full advantage of that to look at you. at every smidge of movement in the muscles of your face. how your brows furrow half-heartedly, how your lips are pressed into a firm line.

he really wants to see your lips. want to taste them again. even if it means he has to go to bed and groan into the pillow instead of your mouth.

you give him what he wants when you start to speak again.

“is there anything i can do to repay you?”

there’s really no need.

sae shakes his head. “it’s fine, you don’t need to do anything.”

there’s a crease between your brow bones that beg to differ.

“no, really, i mean it. is there anything you need? anything you want me to do?”

there’s a really long, awkward pause as sae struggles to process your simple question. his adam’s apple bobs up and down. the walls and his glass windows start their suffocation game once more.

sae’s not sure you want him to tell you what he wants. he’s a visual thinker; and his mind isn’t anywhere but in the gutter.

between having a long day doing a photoshoot that doesn’t even interest him and having a female model as his partner when he keeps comparing her to you, sae can’t really keep it together after more than twenty years of keeping to himself.

he already has one of the couch pillows on his lap, just in case.

it’s already coming in handy thanks to what he’s thinking about.

sae shakes his head. “really, it’s fine.”

he’s half praying that you’ll just let it go so he can go back into the confines of his own room, feeling guilty that he’ll have to help himself to the thought of you but soothing his frustrations anyway.

the other half of him is praying for just you.

and that’s the part that’s alarming to him.

he nearly loses it when you shift, your elbow resting against the back of the couch, body turned to face him as if he hasn’t had a good enough look in his imagination that you have to bring it in real life.

yeah, he’s blaming you. because his brain’s short-circuiting and his synapses are failing him and he can’t seem to get his fucking eyes off of your lips.

he feels nearly shameless for staring at you point blank.

sae doesn’t know what expression you’re wearing now. he’s not sure he wants to know. are you offended or do you feel the same way you felt last night?

feelings can change like the season. or so he’s heard.

your voice is murmured; his thoughts are in the foreground. you say something along the lines of “what do you want, sae?” and he doesn’t have any of the carefully constructed self-control he’s had over the past few years.

so easily undone just by your mere presence.

“you.”

sae says that without thinking. it’s a chore, thinking. he keeps bouncing between shoulds and should-nots and it’s really fucking irritating.

“kiss me,” he tells you, more outright.

if you can tell him such a thing, you won’t punish him for saying the same, right?

here’s the spoiler: you don’t.

another spoiler: you feel like you’ve been waiting for him to tell you that all night.

barely a second into his request and you’re already fulfilling it. sae’s hand curves behind your neck, his calloused palm delicately placed on your skin. the other hand that’s free decides to pull you in, make it so you’re straddling him.

fuck, when did he get rid of the pillow?

your groan is enough indication that you feel him under you. the way he’s so stiff right now is nearly painful, only because the need it feels him with surpasses any sort of need he’s ever had.

both of you are half kisses and half pants. sae has no choice but to tip his head backwards as you roll your hips against his.

“shit,” he hisses, the hand on your neck crawling upwards to grab a fistful of your hair and tug it downwards. it doesn’t affect your hips in the least. why would it?

his other hand grips onto your waist, like he has to do that to make sure you stay there, make sure you keep moving against him. his eyes practically roll into his head, the sounds he’s so shamelessly making betraying any sort of stoic that he used to have in front of you.

a soft chuckle escapes you, and he pries his eyes open just to stare. the tilt of your face, the way your eyelashes brush against each other, that bite of your bottom lip—you’re a delicacy wrapped in his dreams.

“you’ve been thinking of this, huh?”

there’s a blush on his cheeks that he doesn’t let you see, releasing your hair and immediately letting his lips land on your neck. 

it feels nice to make you sound as undone, as needy as he is.

your chest pressed against him doesn’t do much to ease the tightening in his sweatpants. you still haven’t stopped rolling your hips.

right now it looks as if you’re the one with the better stamina.

his teeth latches onto your neck, head bowed, leaving a mark while you have to tell him to ease up a little on it. he’s learning.

he tries again.

better this time, from your lack of feedback.

“i hate what you do to me.” he sounds so stupid, so lost. it’s the vulnerability that’s annoying.

you try to catch your breath as he leans back against the backrest, both of you a bundle of nerves all out in the open. his hair’s mussed, but so is yours. sae’s still hard as fuck, a wet spot already formed on his regrettably light grey sweatpants.

maybe it’s your instinct that tells you to ask him your next question.

“have you ever done this before?”

you fail to clarify what this is, but if sae’s adept enough, you mean making out, and whatever else could happen after. humping. blowjobs. sex.

they’re all the same to sae either way.

“no, never.”

he’s still breathless.

you were halfway to catching your breath, but his admittal takes another pocket of air out of your lungs.

to sae, the silence that follows is painfully awkward. he’s good at guessing what players think on the field, but he’s an absolute goon at trying to guess what the girl he’s interested in is thinking when he just basically admitted he’s a virgin in all romantic aspects.

the only person that came close was bianca. and even then all they did was kiss.

this is the first time he’s ever wanted more.

“i don’t,” he pauses, his eyes momentarily fluttering shut as he thinks of ways to express this animal need to have you. “i don’t want you to repay me with anything.”

you settle your forehead on his, your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. your breathing’s even. it helps him even his out too.

“but if you ask me what i want.” sae takes his time to shift his gaze towards you. your lips, your eyes. you’re so pretty it should be an insult to everyone else. “i want you to be my first.”

it sounds so fucking corny that a small part of him is shrivelling inside. it can’t believe he said something like that. he would’ve cringed if he heard it in movie theatres.

see how pathetic you make him feel?

“your first… what?”

he wants to chuckle. he knows you know. you’re probably being a little shit by asking him to admit it. but even so, he’ll give in to you.

because it feels right.

“everything.”

it could be that you don’t know what to say. it could be that you’re too eager. sae wouldn’t know.

but the way you kiss him next, the way you guide his hands under your shirt (it may as well be yours now), it knocks all wind out of his lungs, all the sense out of his brain.

for the first time, sae finds his hands on your bare chest. it makes a noise come out of him, one that’s equally greedy and needy. he gives it a squeeze, make sure you pay him one back.

your lips are on his lips but by now you’re barely kissing, more open panting and desperate hands pawing at each other.

he takes your nipple between his fingers, giving it a light pinch. your back arches, a sinful sight in front of him, one that he’ll probably have to use for a while if you’re not around.

how can one person have this much control over his desires? that’s a foul.

your hips resume their rolling just for a little bit only for them to stop when you pull back. your hand is on his chest, lips shiny from being subject to his mouth. sae already wants to touch you some more, both his hands relegated to his sides.

“i wanna suck you off.”

you say that so casually that sae’s doing the blushing for you.

if it’s even possible, he gets even harder, and you take the twitching you see as a yes.

you get on your knees in front of him, sat in the spot between his legs, knees folded against the cold floor. sae grabs your wrist before you can pull his pants down, committing himself entirely to the moment.

“take your shirt off first.”

yeah, that request—demand?—shouldn’t roll so easily off his tongue. yet here he is, letting it. the wet patch on his pants is shameful enough. what else does he have to lose?

he finds it near endearing that you don’t hesitate to pull his shirt off over your shoulder. sae’s eyes drag shamelessly over your breasts as he takes in the view. he nearly fails to stop himself from telling you to suck his dick already because it’s getting harder to ignore the wanton need it has for you.

nothing else has to be said.

you divest him of his sweatpants, his cock hitting his shirt as it springs free, near the spot around his bellybutton, the wet patch spreading on his old jersey. you’re looking at his cock, then looking at him, then back at his length—it makes him nervous.

the moment you wrap your fingers around the base of his shaft, he sucks in a sharp breath, head tilted towards the ceiling. it’s different than when he touches himself.

your fingers are smaller, more delicate than his. it feels good. feels even better when you give his tip a little kitten lick, and he’s almost sure you’re just experimenting now, just checking how he’s reacting to every single gesture.

sae’s doing everything in his goddamn power to keep it all together.

he can’t even look at you. that’s a sure fire way to end everything the moment he does.

a strained groan leaves the back of his throat as you pump his cock painfully slow. he doesn’t know if this is the norm. if it is, he hates it.

then comes what he’s been imagining: your tongue flat on his length, licking a stripe up his cock, your hand around it pumping a little bit quicker, still as gentle.

“shit, that feels good,” he finds himself admitting without much thought.

is he supposed to have any thoughts when you’re blowing him so impossibly good like this?

you don’t say much, and you can’t, not when your mouth slowly wraps around his cock and his tip starts hitting the back of your throat. your rhythm is steady at first, like it’s a tease, like it’s just a hell of an opening act.

sae’s hips start to buck upwards into your mouth, and you take it expertly. he dares himself to look at you when you start moaning around his cock, the sight of you so saccharine, so indulgent.

and then yep, there it is, the way his self control gets shredded into pieces, in the form of thick white ropes of cum in your mouth as he groans in resignation.

his eyes are still on you, this time he doesn’t want to look away anymore. he watches you as you swallow his cum, licking his tip just to watch him shudder in pleasure as he gets subjected to the slight over sensitivity.

your breasts still look beautiful. he still wants to play with them.

sae finds that maybe his courage got lost with his cum. it takes everything in him to pull you up onto the couch, this time back in your original position next to him. he kisses you, a blatant disregard for tasting himself on your tongue.

it catches you by surprise, he can tell. if the little squeal in your throat is any indication.

“i’m starting to feel like we’re in one of those landlord-tenant situations.” you’re probably joking. just like you always like to when there’s an awkward silence.

sae doesn’t really feel awkward though. so maybe this is something else.

“well, i mean, if that’s what you’re into.”

you playfully shove him away, rolling your eyes as you tug his shirt back on over yourself. a smirk finds its way onto your face.

“you’re still horny?” a rhetorical question. it’s only asked because sae’s still hard.

his walls are wider than it’s ever felt. than it’s ever been. than it’s ever allowed to be.

sae pulls his pants back on, eyes on you as you take mini steps towards his side of the apartment.

“what do you expect when that’s the best i’ve felt in my life?”

you stifle a laugh when even with his pants on, his tent is still so obvious.

you must be feeling a little bold, because you open up his bedroom door by yourself, giving him a look that he can only equate to come hither.

oddly, he doesn’t feel any sense of shame when his feet carry him to you. when his hands tug you into his room, when your feet tumble against one another’s and you end up on top of him on the bed.

he feels no shame letting you blow him again. he feels no shame letting you swallow all of him for the second time tonight.

there’s only a split second of bashfulness when he asks you to sleep with him. in the literal sense.

but you don’t see anything wrong with it. you don’t say anything. you don’t agree, you don’t reject. you only give a weak laugh as you lay beside him, his hair messed up to fuck and laying there questioning where all his stamina went.

you fall asleep within seconds, just laying there on your side of the bed.

sae takes one more chance at being shameless, wrapping his arm around your torso, letting himself fall asleep.

sae’s a winner.

he has a track record of all wins in all matches. he’s excellent at what he does. the calm and composed one. the one who has his shit together.

but right now he feels like a total loser.

sae brisks out of his bedroom, wondering if you treated him like a one night stand. even if he didn’t stick it inside you. even if he barely got a chance to help you.

jumping the gun, maybe, but he’s already thinking of ways to convince you that it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.

his brisk walk turns slow when he realises you’re just washing up in the guest toilet, an embarrassment hanging over his head at his slight overreaction.

when you waltz out of the bathroom, sae’s quick to act normal. can’t let you see any of his shortcomings just yet.

you spend yet another day at his apartment. this time, sae’s right there with you. doesn’t have to conform to any schedules, doesn’t have to wish the girl he’s spending time with is you.

because it is you.

turns out you also want to get to know him.

you open the windows and try meditating with him. the morning yoga comes right after.

“you really do this every morning?” you ask him while your body tries to adjust to the downward dog.

sae tries not to laugh.

“mhm.”

he runs slower than his usual speed later in the park. doesn’t want you to quit on him before you’ve even begun. you can only make it half his usual route and he acts like it’s normal, tells you you’re already very good.

sae squeezes in questions whenever he can.

slowly, at first. stuff pertaining to you and otoya’s friendship. stuff like university and middle school and how you slapped otoya he nearly quit being your friend.

you’re an open book when it comes to friendship.

you admit what you had with otoya was just physical, admit that you’ve never tried anything more, that it was a stupid phase and he’s really just a friend.

sometimes sae can’t help but wonder whether you’re trying to convince him or yourself.

he starts to ask about stuff you like when you’re preparing lunch together. he learns a little more about you the same time he’s learning how to chop vegetables right.

it’s harder than he thought.

both of it.

you used to like baking. you made some money with it. you love the smell of home cooked food and you’ve always wanted to try that bar you’ve heard about that serves killer sushi and is housed at the top of a skyscraper.

by the time sunset hits and the river that’s sold as part of his apartment’s view starts shimmering with the orange hue, he touches on the topic of your family.

that one, you’re not so keen about.

sae can tell from the drop of your smile and the light fading from your eyes. he tries to ignore it but he’s curious. aren’t they fundamentally who made you what you are?

he can’t help himself.

between the silences, all either of you can think about is what is this thing, between the two of you? but neither of you have the balls to ask.

the day is almost perfect.

sae doesn’t feel like he is who he always thought he was. he doesn’t feel like the revered soccer player that nearly everyone knows. he doesn’t feel like he has any larger-than-life obligations.

if this is what a normal day feels like between normal people, then he thinks maybe this is what he wants. the feel of you by his side, doing things together or even just existing.

there’s a calm you bring that he can’t find in anyone or anything else.

it’s different than the kind of serenity playing soccer gives him, but it makes him addicted all the same. his mind chants the same mantra the whole time—he wants you. just you. only you.

dinner’s ready and sae’s hungry. your stomach’s growling too, just as it was about half an hour ago. he’s placing the dishes on the dining table while you excuse yourself to check on your messages.

something about how your colleagues have no sense of personal space. something like that.

he expects to see you bounding out of the corridor as usual, a little hop in your footsteps. a hum to a tune he thinks you make up.

instead, what he gets is the heavy trudging of the heels of your feet, the same kind he gives oliver when he’s weary and groggy and just wants to go home instead of getting another drink.

sae’s a quick learner. he really is. he learned how to talk to you, learn more about you. he can learn how to tiptoe around subjects you don’t feel up for talking about.

but there’s this mulishly desperate part of him that aches to know more about you. especially when your expression shows a side of you he’s never seen.

he feels on edge. he feels out of the know. he feels like he has to know.

“hey, what’s wrong?”

your bag is looped around your shoulder, the frustration on your face eking into every part of your body. your movements are erratic, your arms swing by your side. it takes you too long to find your shoes in the genkan.

“nothing, i have to go.”

your voice quivers like you’re trying not to break. sae’s heart doesn’t know how to feel about that. his hand reaches out before he can consider alternatives. it wrestles to take hold of your wrist but you pull it away before he can get a firm grip.

“y/n, tell me.” he’s nearly pleading with you this time, his feet heavy in the entryway.

all he knows is that he doesn’t want you to go. doesn’t want you to feel however you’re feeling alone.

but he doesn’t know a thing about you when it comes to whatever this is. and where the walls expanded, they crash down all over him the same. you’re shutting him out, a punishment that he was pardoned off all along until this moment.

when you don’t say a word, just stand with your back facing him as you struggle to put your shoes on right, sae tries again.

his head doesn’t know when to tell him that enough’s enough. doesn’t know the little nooks and crannies of you that prefer to be left alone sometimes.

“oh my god, what do you want?”

this time, you turn around and face him, and he’s not quite sure how to process the fact that there are already tear streaks on the side of your face.

“tell me what’s going on, let me help you.” sae’s not sure either how he managed to say that without choking on his words. he’s a mix of fear and concern. like if he says a single thing wrong and you’ll slip away forever.

his words make your heart ache. they do. because you want to believe that. you want to believe he means it. but the excessively distrustful part of you, the one that remembers baring your heart out to your partner only to have it flipped around on you is the one that’s ruled your mind since the relationship ended.

protect yourself. even in the wrong ways. just leave them before they get to leave you. disappoint them before they get a chance to do that to you.

a scoff leaves your throat, more harsh than you intended it to be.

“help me? itoshi, you barely know me.”

your heart drops. you’re sure sae’s drops further. the words come out of you uncontrollably.

you’re sorry. very sorry.

“what can you help me with, huh?” the slight upturn on your lips is all sneer and vile and nothing nice.

sae only hears you out.

you wish he somehow hears the words you’re thinking instead of what you’re saying.

you’re sorry.

“listen, you’ve been very nice to me, thanks. i’m pretty sure there are lots of other girls out there more deserving than me, so really, i’m grateful that you wasted a couple of days on me.”

sae’s expression doesn’t change. a subtle mix of confusion and heartache and you want to kill yourself for being so stupid.

“but we’re nothing to each other, okay? we’re barely even friends! you don’t need to concern yourself about me.”

it’s like you can feel the effort that’s waiting to pour out of him. the kind that would threaten you to take a step back and pour your heart out instead of letting your sharp tongue loose.

you can’t risk that. you don’t think you can.

“the jig’s up. i tried making friends with you so i could get more scoop, okay? it’s easier for you to approve it if you like me. that’s all there is to it. so please, i’m begging you,” you pause, the words catching in your throat because you could never mean them. “please just leave me alone.”

that seems to do it.

the effort that was waiting to pour out feels like it stopped. sae doesn’t have any other words to say. he doesn’t waste his energy on stopping you as you leave the apartment, letting the heavy mahogany close behind you naturally.

you don’t look back.

sae doesn’t look away.

it’s foolish of you to think that an escape with sae could help. it puts things off. it doesn’t help. nothing does. you should’ve known better by now.

you rush out of his building, a haze of gormless mixed with desultory. you don’t notice anything or anyone else. not even the figure that stares at you in shock as you exit the lift.

these two days were the best days of your life.

now it’s time to wake up.

she’s both the reason and the bane of your existence. 

your mother desperately points towards you when you make your way towards your front door. she has absolutely no qualms about giving you up just so she can see another day.

there’s multiple men by your front door. big, burly men. a lean, muscular one stands in the middle, his hand holding a fistful of your mother’s hair.

it’s the first time you’ve seen them. you’ve lost track of how many loan sharks your mother knows.

it takes nearly half an hour and half a million yen to shut them up and get them on their way. not without the leader among them giving you a kiss on the cheek and a warning that you won’t get to save your mother so easily the next time.

pervertic. that’s what you think his thoughts are.

usually you’re magnanimous. you’d let your mother get a word or five in before you give up on listening. tonight, you’re not so.

she’s just ruined your perfectly constructed dream day with someone who seems so foolishly earnest you nearly feel bad for him having to associate with someone like you.

someone with problems like this.

you walk the same path. you lock your own door and slump onto your own bed. you can hear the annoying springs and the chip of the paint surrounds you. right now you’re coming undone faster than the paint.

it isn’t raining but you wish it is. maybe it’ll be easier to drown out the noise of you crying. right now you’ll have to settle for burying your head in your pillow, the only comfort of your earlier time spent with sae arrested in the confines of his shirt you wore home.

a call comes in and you forget to check who it is. you pick it up without much thought.

if it’s sae you’ll just hang up. he shouldn’t have to associate with someone like you. someone who’ll only bring him problems.

but it’s not sae.

“oi, idiot.”

you’d recognise the voice of your best friend anywhere, through any medium.

you don’t say anything. you can’t, really. not when both your nostrils are blocked and if you open your mouth you’d just make an insufferably pained noise.

eita doesn’t say anything for a while either. he only hears the slightly muffled sound of your sniffing. it takes him only a second to extend himself.

“spare key still under the vase?”

you let out a noise of acknowledgement. he’s your best friend. he knows how to tell apart your responses by noise. he should understand.

he does.

you hear the familiar sound of his kawasaki revving to life.

“wait for me, okay?”

you do. only because you can’t sleep and eita likes to speed. he’s good at riding his bike so you’re never worried. he makes it there faster than you think he ever did.

there’s no shrill nagging when he unlocks the door. your mother must either be asleep or she’s already off trying to make your life more of a living hell. either way, it’s good she’s not here.

fuck her.

when he comes through your door, his own set of keys for your room nestled safely in his keychain, he doesn’t say a word. he only takes his place behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulder, resting his chin on your head as you involuntarily sob into his arms.

he doesn’t say a thing. doesn’t need to.

his arms are a comfort in itself.

it’s familiar. never foreign. never scary.

re: taglists — since it’s been a while, i’ll discontinue the old taglist & start a new one :) it’s cool if you don’t want to be tagged anymore ! if you still do, just let me know !! but please make sure you are 18+ and have your age somewhere obvious & visible on your blog <3

[scara-writes]

100% perfect

GN!Esper!Reader x Y!Guide!Male OC

Note: hello im back. A lot happened, I had an anxiety attacks, my mind has been having a lot of bad thoughts, my dog passed away last year—three months ago... I didn't have a lot of time for me to write since I've been grieving for my dog's death up until now but I'm okay, I'm healing... Anyway, my writings is rusty and probably didn't improve. I know some of you guys really tried to reach out through ask and I'm kind of happy. Thanks. For now I'll give this to piece of one shot for a new year. This Esper x Guide thing I made might not be accurate. All i know is they are similar to Alpha x Omega shits except the curse thing on espers. This might be cringe. i will try to edit it. I will try to update the other oc's as well.

-also please do not do this, i do not condone anything in this story. This is purely fiction and be kept as a fiction.

CW: implied se(g)s, implied suicide(mention), yandere, drugging, manipulation, dynamic power, etc.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"(Y/n)!!" A ginger haired male rush up to you, hugging you by the time you step on the greenery field of the university. Pastel blue of sweater was the first thing you see before you were envelope by a hug. You tense when his arms coils around your waist, hearing him breathe out of relief as he buries his face on your left shoulder. 

You don't know what to do everytime he does this. There were eyes everywhere and it doesn't seem like he is bothered by it.

Of course why would he?

Micah Clarke is not only popular and prettiest student in this campus. He is known for being famous as the youngest champion of ice skating 3 years ago, defending his title until now. His luscious natural lips, his hazel eyes that could make you halt on what you were doing, the type to make yourself give him a third glance because he is so pretty. So pretty that you sometimes envy his glassy skin, igniting a insecurities to yourself. His soft curly ginger hair and freckled face that matches his glossy alabaster complexion. The type of guy who prefers cute, pastel than those typical guys—omg so unique(lol)—that always choose to wear dark or dull colors. Everyone finds him attractive including yourself. Everything about him screams beauty and elegance. He can hook up with men and women if he wants to but he chose not to.

From what you heard, he is a rare S-rank Guide. Most espers would try hook up with him atleast make a contract with someone like him. He would rather spend his time painting his nails, crochetting, organising or planning his time, practicing his amazing skills on ice skating, or rather do hundred routine for his skincare than hook up with other people. Quirky, Alright. Still, this doesn't stop people from wanting to go between his pants and his fame.

To people he is a swan. He is epitome of perfection.

You always see him pass by to your department, always getting called by the principal,inviting him to do a photoshoot, using his face as an advertisment for upcoming enrollent or any event inside the university. You never dwell yourself to swoon on to him whenever he pass by. Fine, you do like him. But not the kind of like where you are romantically interest to him. You just admire his looks, his talents and that's about it. You just don't like he was too friendly, there's nothing wrong with that but invading someone else personal bubble space—and the feeling of shame on yourself for being near someone kind as him—as if you two are already close is not your thing to a person you rarely talk to. Unlike him, you are the quite the opposite when it comes to socialising,You like being alone, you aren't anti-social, atleast, that's what you think you are. You are confident by yourself. An Introvert.

You just like the silence. It eases your deteriorating mind—(stupid esper curse) Somewhere peace and quiet,reading books, listening to music—gosh laufey and wave to earth and even (favorite singer/composer) always sound so good, spending time with your pets, to drown out insanity voices piling up in your head. Although you just have a few friends, you love to be alone. You once dream about getting a job. To work hard and earn a good money, once you have enough money. You would spend it to buy a house and lot somewhere away from the city and nearby the countryside with a small farm. Letting your family and friends to visit you time to time in occassions. Where you can spend the rest of your life alone and happy. A dream that would be come true if only you didn't awakened as an esper after you reach 18.

As for the guy who has the entire school and other people folded for him. He is choosing you to lend his attention, to a person who doesn't like attention. So why was he talking to someone who is a nobody like a B-rank Esper like you? The only interaction you had with him before he let himself in your life was when you pull him away from the bridge—you didn't know him at that time—a few exchange greeting—which of course he would be the first one to initiate it—and.... The party....

"N-ngh!!!" A whiny moan escape his lips. Your lips were on his neck drinking each of his soft sound coming from his mouth. The blaring party background can be ignore in the background thanks to the closed lock door of this room the both of you are in.You bite and nip his skin as if animal marking its prey. You didn't care if you torn his shirt, you just needed his guide seep through more, letting your body gone addicted to him. "(Y-y/n)!" The whay he whimpered your name made you groaned. The way every pulse from his body sends his guiding through your body.  You were delirious, you can't resist him—

"Missed you! Why aren't you checking my messages? You know I got worried when you didn't reply." He whined, his orbs shows concern and sadness. You look away.

"...hey." you greeted him with quieter tone. You pulled away from the hug not liking the way your body just relaxes everytime his guide powers automatically seeps through your body. You don't hate it but you don't like the way that your body depends on someone just for the sake of being sane and relax.

.... The shame you are feeling over the past few weeks.

You still feel guilty and ashamed about it everytime you remember those memory.

"I... I was busy. Had to do homework. I fell asleep and forgot to charge my phone." You told him. Another excuse. You just put your phone on do not disturb.

You don't have the guts to tell a sweet person like him to leave you alone. Well you did because you are ashamed to face him but he insisted it was never you fault. It always ended up him spending time with you. You can't—you owe him more than anything—Especially now that all people's oggling to you too now that you have the attention of the star. They would try to befriending you so that they could get closer to him.

Gosh, you are getting tired. Why can't people leave you alone?

You missed the old times where you can be at peace. No drama, nowhere near on people who wants attention.

"O-oh. Well that's alright."he chided before grabbing your hands with both of his. His smooth hands rubbing against your ragged callouses. He continued, "well actually I was wondering could you hangout out with me? This friday? I know you don't have schedule at that time since you showed me your schedule—And I want to spend more time with you!" He beamed. His smile was out of this world and it blinds you.

"I uhh .. have a plan on that time..." You words went silent as soon as your eyes sees the smile from his lips slowly fell down to his face."really?" The grip on your hands were getting uncomfortable.

"Umm.... I just wanna be on my home and well—"He gasped, his smile is coming back on his symmetrical face as he clung to your right arm."oh! Why didn't you say so? We can hangout together in your home!"

Giddy, he press his front closer to you which made you feel suffocating. His guide power automatically seeps through you again.

"N-no, Mikah... What I meant to say is I plan to rest, like spend alone on that day. A peace and quiet." You slowly pull away your hand gently from his clinging hands.

You didn't expect he would react like this. Tears are already in the corner of his eyes. His lips quivering. "W-what? Are you saying that I'm boring, I-I'm too loud? Did I do something wrong?"

The people who were eavesdropping at your conversation sent a glare and unwanted resentment towards you. 

You quickly shook your head. Your free hand clasping against his clutching ones that is gripping your poor unavailable hand. "No... It's not like that. You didn't do anything wrong.. I just want a me time... You know when... Uhhh before you and I become friends.... I just want to relax by myself.... You're a good friend and a good company but... We've been hanging out for a while... Ummm w-what I'm trying to say is... I want some time to be alone. You... You know what I mean right?"

Micah gave you a blank stare. You were getting uneasy. You bite your inner cheek. Will he lash out? He never seem to be the person who never received a refusal on his entire life. As soon as 2 seconds has passed, you noticed his eyes were akin to sadness. You feel the guilt running up to your spine.

You tried to avoid his gaze looking straight his frowning lips before getting replace by a forced grin. "Oh! I get that! You wish a time for yourself! Self care stuff in all that!" 

Your heart beats a little faster in excitement, is he finally leaving you for a bit? You were about to thank him for understanding. He does l—

"B-but!!" He grabbed your hands again.

You internally groan. Does he even know the word no? Of course he don't.

He never had someone says no to him. Everything he request would be at his feet. You can't yell or be rude. That's not in your nature and plus if you done it. His fans would kill you.

"I need to be with you o-on friday! You know... I wanna spend my birthday with you.. P-please? your presence alone is enough a gift for me." He stammers. You blink in surprise. "I-I promise I won't bother you the next day if you really wanna spend t-time for yourself..."

Birthday?

"T-to be honest.... I don't like parties uhmm..." He lick his lips as if the word 'party' is a taboo between the two of you." Especially my birthday parties because a-although people greet me a happy birthday or any party occasion and stuff they never really mean it. They... Always use that as an excuse to use me for my fame or my money that I earned so hard in those competitions... I.. I plan to not throw one b-because m-my family isn't forcing me anymore... I just want to spend my birthday w-with you. Y-you're the only d-decent person who treated me normally."he stammer.  You feel a lump on your throat when he says you're a decent. "I... I know... Umm I'm asking to much f-from you and I know... you didn't mean to do that—" he continues to rambles that some of his words can't form a right sentence. You noticed his eyes were in the verge of tears, threatening to drop from his eyes. 

"I'm.... Not a decent person." You told him looking away from him, ashamed and hurt were written in your face.Your voice grew quiet but the man Infront catch on what you said, already refering to the 'incident' between the two of you. He bit his lower lips and almost yelled. His face pull out a sad look. It made him look cute if it's from a tears of joy."Y-you are ! You are a decent person! You know it's not your f-fault! You were d-drugged a-and I... I was drunk! W-we both know we weren't in o-our right minds! You never hurted me—!" He starts hiccuping. "You're a-a good person! W-what happened between that night s-should b-be buried! Y-you're a good friend! It's not your fault! It's not your f-fault!" With that he burst into tears.

You didn't expect for him to cry. You panic mentally. What should you do on these type of situations? You pull him for a hug—albeit stiffeningly."Ok... Ok... Don't cry.... I don't like it... When you cry.. I'm sorry." You told him honestly, truthfully this is not the first time he argued about the incident with you.

You still feel ashamed of yourself. You really do. 

The party. If only you didn't come to your friend's party. The guilt won't eat you. No matter how many times Micah convinced you that none of it was your fault. You feel like you can't face him. He did say he was also drunk at the time but still... You could have gotten home earlier and didn't force yourself on him.

You cried and apologised so many times from him at that time, swearing you will turn yourself over to the police and never let him see your face again. You saw how his whole body was full of marks, hickeys, and bruises. He look like he got ravage. His clothes were thorn and you wish the drug in your system that time killed you.

Micah's eyes light up and a smirk forming from his lips as he nuzzle his face on your neck, pretending to cry even more. Everything is planned, everything worked for him to get you under his palm. He can feel the guilt eating you. 

"... it's okay... Hik... " He sob sneaking in to kiss your neck. You are to busy awkwardly and hesitantly patting his back and hugging him and the man love every second of it.

From the moment you save him from jumping off the bridge, he needed to make you his. Someone who genuinely cares for him from this greedy world is something he needed to treasure.

Oh how he had you wrap around his fingers the moment you accepted that drug-disguise juice from one of his friends offered by the man himself. It's your fault.

It doesn't matter. You're under his palm forever. Everything is 100% perfect.

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Buzzed

steddie, omegaverse, modern AU, Eddie got out of Hawkins and got famous

Most days it’s easy to pretend. Steve and Robin share a house and a workplace and most of a life in Indianapolis. He can usually forget how he and Eddie almost had something.

But that was before Eddie moved to L.A. to try doing something with his music, found his way into playing a busker in an indie film that miraculously got oscar buzz, and suddenly he’s a household name, booking tons of projects.

And Steve is happy for him!

Really!

He is.

It’s just… He misses having Eddie around. How excitable and goofy he can be, but also having a thoughtful alpha to hang out with other than Robin.

Not to mention his campfire scent and the way his callused fingers feel against Steve’s skin.

They still talk occasionally, texting mostly, little check-ins every couple months, but Steve hasn’t seen Eddie in-person in at least five years.

That’s why it’s easy to pretend. Steve’s old friend, Eddie, and Eddie Munson, alpha movie star, are two different people.

Steve’s crush can exist between the pages of magazines and on internet gossip sites.

He can moon over the pics from Eddie’s photoshoots that he has saved on his phone in private. Can keep his fantasies contained in his nest as he imagines his fingers sliding into short curls.

At least until he gets a call from Dustin on an unassuming Friday night. Steve and Robin are already nearly through a bottle of wine, kicking their feet up after a long week of teaching, when Steve’s phone rings.

“Eddie’s next movie is shooting in Chicago,” Dustin starts.

“And he’s flying out early so he can stop in Indy for a week. I may have told him he should skip the hotel and stay in your guest room.”

“Dustin!”

“What? You’ve got one of the mattresses from the podcast ads in there! It’s comfy! And that way he doesn’t have to deal with paps!”

“Can you just say paparazzi like a normal person?” Steve sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “But it should be fine. When does he get in?”

“Next weekend.”

“Dustin!”

“I only just found out! El and I are driving down in a week, and Mike and Will are only able to skype in.”

He doesn’t mention Lucas and Max, since they also live in Indy; Dustin and El are likely staying with them.

Robin elbows Steve and hisses for him to put the call on speaker, getting caught up as Steve has a private crisis at the thought of finally seeing Eddie again.

To make matters worse, his totally not stalkerish web alert for Eddie’s name pings after he hangs up with Dustin. A new photo shoot.

Eddie’s curls are gone, buzzed down to his scalp; Steve mourns for a fraction of a second.

Then he needs to squeeze his thighs together.

The wanting that he’s been squashing down for the better part of a decade comes back in full force, strong enough that Robin asks if his cycle is early and he’s going into heat.

Blushing, but knowing he can’t keep a secret from her to save his life, he shows her his phone.

“All I can see is how noticeable his ears are now,” Robin says with a judging look and a shrug. “And I am never going to buy Eddie as a tough guy, but I guess I can understand what you omegas see in him.”

“Rooooob!” Steve whines, indignant.

“Steeeeeve!” she teases back.

“I just… Fuck, I need to get laid.”

“I’m sure Eddie would if you asked him nicely.”

“Rob!”

“He looks like he could hold you down, get you to stop stressing so much.”

“Robin… I can’t think about that.”

“Sure you can.”

“I can’t.”

“You can, and you know why: The bulk of the conversations Eddie and I still have are about you. He always asks me how you are, what you’re up to, at least once a month.”

Steve’s taken aback by that. “What?”

“Yeah. He usually asks if you’re seeing anyone. Tries to sneak it in. Like I’m not going to notice.”

She raises a single eyebrow, and Steve feels intensely confused. “Then how come he doesn’t ask me? Or talk to me more?” He tips back the last of his wine and pulls his legs up tight to his chest.

“Because you’re both idiots,” Robin says, voice warm and full of love as she hugs him.

A week later, a car with dark tinted windows pulls up in Robin and Steve’s driveway.

Eddie has a baseball hat and sunglasses on as he gets out, the disguise barely enough obscure his features, but even if it were better, Steve would still recognize him by his posture.

Robin is out running errands and picking up dinner, but mostly giving Steve an hour of privacy. A chance to say something before either of them can get stuck inside their heads and fuck it up.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie says with a smile as he pulls off his sunglasses in the entryway.

“Hey yourself,” Steve replies, pulling Eddie in for a hug, ready to make it quick, only for Eddie to hold on tight and press his nose to Steve’s neck. A purr rumbles from his chest.

Steve reaches up and pulls the hat from Eddie’s head, letting it fall to the ground.

He rubs his fingers over the stubble of the alpha’s hair, keeping him pressed close to the bonding gland at his neck, his scent crying out for Eddie to claim him.

Soft lips ghost against Steve’s neck. “I missed you,” Eddie whispers.

“Missed you, too.”

Steve kisses the side of Eddie’s head, the only part he can reach, lips pressed to the velvet of his shorn hair. Then it’s like his brain suddenly catches up with him. “Sorry! We- I didn’t-”

Eddie presses a single finger to Steve’s lips, finally pulling back to look in his eyes.

Without his curls, Eddie’s gaze is somehow more intense, dark chocolate looking into Steve’s heart. “Don’t apologize, puppy. You have nothing to apologize for, not to me.”

“Eddie…”

“I’m the one who ran away, who’s been hiding instead of alpha-ing up and telling you.”

“Telling me what?” Steve asks, lower lip trembling.

“That even after all this time, I can’t get your scent out of my nose. That I still dream about you every night. That I work so much to keep from going insane missing you. That I sh-”

Steve cuts him off with a kiss.

Eddie doesn’t waste any more time, just picks Steve up, their lips still connected, and carries him to the nearest bedroom—fortunately Steve’s—and drops him on the bed. Getting out of their clothes doesn’t take long; they’ve both waited long enough.

And Robin will be home soon.

Part 2

Now expanded into a full fic! Read here

[sweatyracoon]

Touch Me Up

Summary: Your a new employee to JYP studios, and have been assigned to the group of Stray Kids; a makeup artist. What happens when one of the members catch interest in you?

Warnings: None?

Genre: Fluff

You watched as each of the boys took their turns for their photoshoot, barely making it in time to replace the other makeup artist. Her shift just ended, meaning yours will start in another five minutes.

It was difficult knowing when you were needed due to constant changes in schedules, for both the idols and the employees that support them.

You had only been with them a month, still learning about Korea itself and it's language.

You moved from America a little over five months ago hoping for a new start. And you were lucky to have landed yourself where you were job wise.

You saw the shades the boys were wearing, and intrigued by the theme. What was the theme? You couldn't tell, honestly.

But they did, however, look hot.

They are still in their ATE era, and their ideas have been pretty successful so far, so you weren't worried.

STAY have really enjoyed all that they had released. Including you.

You would never say it out loud to the boys, but you were probably one of their biggest fans.

"Y/n! We need you over here!" You heard someone say, making you snap out of your thoughts.

"Coming!" You responded, walking towards the man, your bag of makeup slung loosely around your shoulder.

When you stopped where you were needed, you saw a flash of green in your peripheral, making you turn.

You caught eyes with Seungmins, making your breath hitch. His hair was still quite long. You thought he was going to cut it, but I guess not yet.

It was fluffier than usual, making it look as soft as a cloud, and it was still his natural black hue, light bouncing off, shining to your eyes.

"What do you need, Minnie?" You asked him, digging through your bag.

"Touch me up," He said, looking at you without expression.

Your face turned red. You knew what he meant, but your mind can't help but take what he said out of proportion.

When you had the gloss in hand, you turned back, only to see him grinning.

"Touch up my makeup," He repeats, making it clear what he wants.

"I know what you meant," You mutter before twisting the cap, hearing a loud pop as you pulled the brush from the cap.

His smile closed, leaving his dimples on display while you brush it gently against his lips, not wanting the color to be too strong.

As you pushed it against his plump flesh, you saw the indent from the brush moving with you, making them appear larger than they are for a short while.

Moving from the bottom lip to the top, you watched as the same thing happened, focusing on the way his breath feels on your working hand.

You didn't dare look at his eyes, knowing that they were focused on you, staring deeply into your own.

His nose twitched slightly, making you halt your motions.

"Now press them together, please," You say, pushing the brush back into the tube before twisting it the opposite direction, sealing it shut.

He does as you request, but insanely slow, teasing you with amusement. All you could do was watch.

"Like what you see?" He grins, grabbing his hat on the chair next to him.

"Wha-wait what? No I'm just making sure it looks okay," You say flustered.

To make it look like you were telling the truth, you bring your hand up to his face, your fingers targeting his lips. You gently caress his bottom lip with your finger, swiping the under part to get the excess gloss.

His breath hitches along with yours, but before you could take your hand from him, he grabbed your wrist with his slender one, holding it in place.

"Am I good now?" He asks quietly, staring at you.

"Yes," You breathe back, not looking away.

His smile is small, but it's there.

He turns his head and nuzzles into your open palm, making your thoughts and heart race.

He places a light kiss to your hand, finally letting go.

"I'll see you later, y/n," He says with a wink, slowly walking backwards. "Don't leave,"

Your eyes widened, processing what he's saying incredibly slow. But once you understood, you nodded.

"See you,"

[kingkatsuki]

— babysitting

Just a silly little piece about Bakugou looking after his nephew when Kirishima and his wife are both working, and him being the cutest little wingman.

Warnings: fluff!, implied!older Bakugou, Bakugou’s behaviour could be construed as stalking but it’s not really, he just proper fancies you.

Pairing: implied!Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 2.1k.

“Please, Kats. I promise it won’t be for long, we didn’t realise we were both working this afternoon and I can’t take him on patrol with me—” Kirishima pleaded on the phone.

“I’m busy,” Bakugou replied bluntly.

“Busy doing what?” His best friend almost whined, and Bakugou could tell the hulking tank of a man was pouting on the other side of the line.

“None of your damn business.”

Bakugou didn’t want to admit the real reason he was busy today. It was the same reason he was now busy every day he was off.

A few weeks ago he’d made his way into Musutafu mall on his lunch break to pick up a copy of a new romance book his favourite author had just released. And while he was checking out he noticed you filling up one of the displays near the back of the store, giving him the cutest smile when he’d passed you to leave.

Since that day he’d come back every week on one of his days off, just to get a simple “hey” from you as he bought yet another book. Bakugou was certain he’d soon have so many unread books in his house that he’d have to build an extension to store them, but he couldn’t help it.

And today was going to be the day that he was actually going to talk to you— possibly.

“Can’t you reschedule? It’ll only be for a few hours until I can get off patrol and he can spend the afternoon at the agency with me.”

“What about Mina?” Bakugou offered.

“She’s got that photoshoot with Hero Weekly today, remember?” Of course she fucking does, “And Sero’s out on patrol with me.”

“Denks?” Bakugou was certain he already knew the answer to that one though, as he ran a palm down the length of his face.

“You know I’m not allowed to leave him unsupervised with Denki anymore, Bro.” Kirishima groaned, “The wife still hasn’t forgiven me for them almost setting the kitchen on fire.”

Bakugou couldn’t help but snigger at the memory, the panicked phone call that he’d heard coming through on the central emergency line that there was a fire in Red Riot’s neighbourhood, and when Backdraft had turned up at the scene he’d found a singed Denki standing inside a murky kitchen with some burnt cookies. Kirishima had to replace two cabinet units and the oven after that debacle and it was no wonder his wife no longer trusted Denki as a babysitter.

“Please, man. I already told him, and he’s real excited to spend the day with you.”

Bakugou couldn’t deny he missed spending time with his little nephew, and Kirishima knew his best friend couldn’t deny the pleas of his son. Silently fist pumping the air in relief when Bakugou finally responded on the other end of the phone.

“Fine, I’ll pick him up now.”

“Uncle Kats, let’s get these!” His nephew picked up a water gun from a wire dumpbin of toys outside the toy store, turning around in a crouched motion with eyes squinted as he pretended to shoot Bakugou.

He put his hands up in mock surrender as he grabbed at the plastic barrel, holding it in the air as he took it out of his nephews hands to place it back inside the bin.

“Your parents don’t like you having guns, remember squirt.”

“But what if I need one for protection.”

“You don’t need that shit for protection,” He shook his head, “I’ll be there to protect ya.”

“But wouldn’t it be cool to have a water gun fight outside. It’s summer.” His young nephew whined as Bakugou began to lead him away from the toy store, noticing that your work was approaching on the right side of the mall.

“I’ll talk to them about it.” Bakugou reached down to ruffle his hair as his nephew shouldered his leg wrapping an arm around one thick thigh to squeeze him into a hug in thanks, “How about a book? You like reading, don’tcha?”

“Not really,” He shook his head, immediately making a beeline for the confectionery inside the shop.

“What? Why not.” Bakugou raised a brow before he began to search the store for you, hoping that you weren’t on your lunch break.

You were usually in one of the back aisles around this time of day, tidying the shelves as he pretended to flick through the various hero books that you sold. Like he’d ever actually buy one of them— perhaps the book Miruko had released on unabashedly being yourself despite the critics, or the memoir Edgeshot had put together before he passed away, but never the unofficial Deku books that seemed to line the shelves of your Pro-Hero section and were always on sale. Bakugou snorted when he noticed a large bright red “half off” sticker covering Deku’s face on one.

“It’s too many pages.” His nephew scoffed, picking up a chocolate bar as Bakugou placed a palm on the back of his neck to lead him away from the sweets.

“You just gotta find a book that doesn’t feel like too many pages, that’s all.” He began to walk towards the manga aisle, wondering if there might be something there that would interest the young boy.

“You like reading, uncle Kats?”

“Course I do,” Bakugou scoffed, “Way better than TV. That shit’ll rot your brain.”

He had an entire bookshelf of his favourites lined up at home. All in alphabetical order by author and spines outward facing, a few of his favourite covers turned forward to show off the artwork. Some spines were more worn than others, an indication of the sheer number of times he’d sought comfort in those stories after a long day at work, or a lonely night at home.

“What kinda books do you like?”

Bakugou chewed on the inside of his cheek before answering. It would be so easy to lie and say action or fantasy, certain that half the people who claimed their favourite book was Lord of the Rings or a Game of Thrones had never actually read them. Or the pretentious people who would pretend their favourites were non-fiction books about bettering yourself or hyper-specific topics that would never come up in normal conversation. But there was a part of him that didn’t want to lie to his nephew— the boy was always so open and honest with him, even at his young age.

“Romance.” Bakugou shrugged, leaning forward to pick up one of the new manga books that sat on a top shelf.

“Eww yuck,” Bakugou’s nephew immediately scrunched up his face, making a show of sticking his tongue out in distaste, “I didn’t think you’d like books like that.”

“What did ya think I’d like?”

“I dunno, like action or kicking villain ass.”

“Don’t say ass.” Bakugou frowned, his eyebrows narrowing as he glared down at the young boy.

“But you say it all the time, I hear you.”

“Yeah, because I’m an adult.” Bakugou grinned, “I see enough of that crap when I’m at work, don’t need to read about it too.”

“You say ‘shit’ a lot too.”

“Oi, you little—” Bakugou lost his train of thought the moment he saw you past a corner, words disappearing into nothing as he noticed the same focused look on your face as you sorted through a delivery of new books.

Bakugou was certain you were wearing a new pair of jeans today, or at least a pair he’d never seen before. You looked real good in them. He felt his heartbeat increase when you placed a book back on the shelf, stopping to talk to one of your colleagues as your lips curled in to the prettiest smile, and he couldn’t stop himself as he felt himself beginning to mimic your smiling face.

“Oh,” The kid nudged his thigh, shamelessly standing around the shelves to stare at you, “Is that the real reason why you brought me into a bookstore? Not because you want me to read.”

“What?” Bakugou wasn’t even sure he heard the question as he kept his gaze on you. Feeling his cheeks begin to heat up as you bent over to pick up more books, the angle had your jeans tightening against the curve of your ass and he felt like a pervert for ogling you so shamelessly.

“The lady you’re staring at.” His nephew snorted, pointing over at you “You’re so obvious.”

“Piss— shut up,” Bakugou caught himself, grabbing the kid by the collar of his shirt to tug him back behind the shelves, “I ain’t starin’.”

“Yeah you are!” His nephew sniggered, “You’re giving her the same look my dad gives ma.”

“No I ain’t.” Bakugou almost pouted, crimson eyes still peeking at you through the shelves in the aisle he was down as you continued to place more books onto the table in your section.

“You so are,” His tone increased, and Bakugou had to stop himself from slapping a palm over his big mouth to shut him up, “You’re so obvious. Look how red you are!”

Was he that obvious? Bakugou had done everything he could to be subtle each week when he visited your bookstore, trying to stick to the same shelves and strategically picking up books so he didn’t seem like was just staring at you all the time. Not that it was his fault anyway, you were so fucking pretty.

“Why don’t you go and talk to her?”

“She’s workin’.” Bakugou replied as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. He’d probably said a total of five words to you since he’d started coming into your book store a few weeks ago, and the thought of saying any more had a ferocious pit growing inside his stomach.

“So? If you like her you should tell her,” His nephew tried to nudge him towards you, “That’s why my dad asked my ma out.”

“That’s different,” Bakugou grumbled, “This is…”

Kirishima knew his wife liked him back, they’d been friends long before they started dating so they had a foundation to build upon. This? This was completely new to him, and the thought of being rejected, especially by a girl as pretty as you, petrified him.

“Wait, you read all those romance books and you don’t know how to ask a girl out?”

“I do know,” Bakugou sneered, “I ain’t a total dumbass.”

“So why don’t you?”

Because he was a coward, that’s why.

Not that he’d even be able to talk to you long enough to do it if he could. His throat seized up and his heart practically ricocheted off his rib cage whenever you were near, your perfume lingering in the air as it had him wishing he could bring you into a warm embrace. He’d ask you out one day, just not today—

“Because I told ya, she’s workin’.” Bakugou began to steer his nephew away from the manga section, trying to get him to leave the store.

It had been a bad idea to still come to your store on his day off even though he was babysitting, but he couldn’t help it. The routine he’d settled into on his days off no longer felt complete if they didn’t include you, the small time he’d spend in the bookstore each week were enough to become the highlight of his day. And he would ask you out— just not today.

“Don’t tell your parents about this,” Bakugou grumbled, “Your dads too frigging nosy.”

“Alright,” His nephew practically sung the word, and Bakugou knew exactly what was coming, “But it’ll cost you.”

“I’m sure it’s a crime to blackmail a Pro-Hero, squirt.”

“So I’ll just tell the pretty lady you fancy her then.”

“Fine, fine,” Bakugou snarled, the corner of his lip curling to bare his gum, “Whaddya want?”

“That water gun we saw at the toy store.”

God, Kirishima was gonna kill him.

“Fine.” Bakugou groaned, walking towards the cash register to pay for the candy that he’d picked up.

“But you have to get one too so we can play together, alright?”

Two guns. Kirishima’s wife would definitely kill him before he even attempted to sweet talk his best friend.

“I was going to say the loser has to tell that girl from the bookstore that you like her, but you’ll probably lose because you’re old.”

“Oi, you cheeky little shit,” He ruffled his nephew's messy black hair, “Watch who you’re callin’ old, squirt. I’ll kick your ass and ask her out.”

[fandoms-x-reader]

Goth! MC

Requested By: @fernstarsblog

Headcannons

Summary: How the OM! characters would react to an MC who is goth/drawn to the supernatural. The Sevon Demon Brothers & Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon and Solomon Word Count: 2,504

Lucifer remains as expressionless as ever when he first sees you.

After all, you’re a new human exchange student. That’s what everyone should be focusing on, not the way you did your makeup or the way you were dressed.

At the end of the day, you were a target to lower-level demons no matter how you looked.

But, take away those formalities, and Lucifer is completely attracted to your look.

You had an ethereal beauty to you - something he had yet to see in any other human and it drew him in like a moth to a flame.

He’ll notice everything about you - your outlook on life, your interest in the dark and mysterious, etc. 

And he’ll find the opportune moments to have conversations with you about these topics. Lucifer is as much a well of information as Satan, he just doesn’t typically flaunt it the way his younger brother does.

Lucifer is particularly interested in the Gothic culture when it comes to buildings and decoration. Would you say the House of Lamentation fit the bill?

Lucifer only agreed to allow you to put eyeliner on him after a whole lot of Demonus was in his system.

And he wore it with absolute pride. 

Until he realized you took a picture of him with the makeup on and sent it to his brothers.

It’s funny that you’re attracted to the supernatural because he’s about to turn you into a ghost.

Mammon came into the assembly hall with so much confidence, ready to tell you off in front of everyone and make sure you knew that he was the one in charge.

But, when he actually saw you, he stuttered.

He still managed to get his words out in the end, but why were you dressed like that?

Mammon thinks you look great, but you weren’t what he was expecting and you definitely didn’t look like a pushover like he was hoping.

Mammon will boast about your look to others, and he’ll dare someone to comment on it in any way that he didn’t deem acceptable.

But if you’re interested in the supernatural, that’s where Mammon draws the line.

Let’s not forget he’s a scaredy cat when it comes to things like horror movies and ghost stories and whatnot.

He’ll act all brave in front of you, pretending as though he’s interested in the same stuff just for a chance to spend time with you.

But if you go somewhere scary he’ll be holding your hand and if you watch a movie that frightens him, he’ll sit closely to you and offer to turn the light on - all for your sake, of course. He can’t have his human having a heart attack!

That being said, you did notice that Mammon’s latest photoshoot was all goth-themed and he even did the makeup to perfection.

Levi knows all about goth culture.

There are so many iconic characters in his manga and anime who are goth and he can’t help but admire the way they look and act.

There’s something just so intriguing and mysterious about them!

Not to mention the fact that a ton of his video games have designs modeled after gothic looks for their playable characters, NPCs, and the overall setting of the game.

Levi has even considered trying out the gothic look himself when he wanted to cosplay as one of those characters.

But, he’s never been able to bring himself to do it, afraid he won’t be able to get the look right.

But now that he has you, he’s ready to try it!

Please show him all your tricks on properly doing the makeup. He wants to look like this character in this anime!

You’re a bit surprised at how well Levi pulls off the goth look. The eyeliner really brings out his features.

He freaked out when you told him that, but he’ll keep it in mind.

He can’t wait to play all of his favorite games with someone who can truly appreciate the gothic nature of them!

Satan was one to notice your appearance straight away.

There was something different about you than the typical happy-go-lucky and naive humans he had seen pictures of in his books.

Your appearance was something that enticed him.

There was something beautiful and mysterious about the makeup and clothes you wore.

His initial thought was that you looked like you walked right off the pages of one of Edgar Allan Poe’s books.

He even went so far as mentioning that to you and if you tell him that you knew who he was talking about, Satan would be ecstatic.

He believed that Poe was an excellent author in his own right, but he was also from the Devildom so he couldn’t be sure that humans would hold the same affection.

He’ll offer to read some of his stories with you excited to use the similarity to try and get to know you. 

And if you have any other books or authors that were similar he would be more than happy to read those as well!

If you’re drawn to what humans would consider “supernatural” Satan is the best person to turn to.

His knowledge is extensive and he will happily tell you about any creature that you’re curious about.

If you want simple information, he’ll just tell you if it exists or not.

But if you want to know more than that, he’ll excitedly tell you all of the facts he knows.

If you mention a creature he doesn’t know about, he’ll take you to the library and the two of you will do research together until you find what you’re looking for.

All in all - he likes that you’re goth.

Asmo is a bit taken aback by your appearance at first. 

He isn’t used to seeing others wear heavy make-up or such interesting clothes. 

He kept up with all of the latest fashion trends, so of course he knew about the “goth” look.

He just doesn’t typically do it on himself.

But, he loved the way you looked. So much so that he considers you his inspiration for his new look!

Asmo will be attached to your hip, asking you which makeup products you prefer and which colors you tend to use.

He liked making his own clothes and he will make up some outfits that have a gothic look to them with a touch more of Asmo.

He’ll set up a whole photoshoot to show off his clothes and he’ll ask you for help with his makeup.

He wants to make sure he does the look right!

He’ll ask you to do the photoshoot with him, wanting the world to see the two of you together.

But, if you decline, he’ll just take double the amount of photos to make up for it. 

After that photo shoot, you do notice that others in RAD have started dressing the same way.

You and Asmo have started a new trend.

Beel doesn’t focus too much on appearances. It’s all about what’s on the inside for him.

He likes your overall aesthetic, but at the end of the day, he isn’t completely wrapped up in the details of your appearance like some of the others would be.

Did you call yourself “goth”? You’ll have to explain to him exactly what that means.

He’ll ask you if goths eat the same food as other humans in a completely innocent and curious way.

Bad time for a vampire joke.

Beel thought that you were serious about drinking blood and was a bit wary of you. 

Beel can bond with almost anyone about almost anything so he’ll find a way to connect with you.

He enjoys learning more about your culture and he even lets you put makeup on him to see what he would look like.

He 100% pulls off the goth look. 

He also likes listening to you go on and on about your knowledge of the supernatural.

He’ll happily munch on food while he listens to you talk, smiling at the way your eyes lit up as you talked about something that was so closely related to his world.

Belphie is one to make witty comments about your appearance.

He’ll joke about keeping you away from garlic or keeping you inside during a full moon.

He’ll tease you about wearing too dark make-up and will ask you if you have more than one color in your wardrobe.

Basically, anything he can to hide the fact that he finds your look insanely hot.

He’s a total sucker for the goth look but you would never get him to admit it.

He finds your conversations so much more interesting than any other humans because where they shy away from dark topics, you embrace them.

He’ll feel naturally drawn to you and one day you caught him looking up how to do goth makeup on his D.D.D.

He immediately denied it but from that point on you made it a point to try and convince him to let you do his makeup.

He declined every single time and you eventually had to wrestle him and pin him down so that you could apply eyeliner to him.

It was obvious that he wanted to see what he looked like with it because he could have easily pushed you off if he really wanted to.

Belphie pulls off the look effortlessly. He fit right in with the goth culture.

And the next time you were in his bedroom, you noticed eyeliner sitting on his dresser.

Diavolo found your appearance strikingly beautiful.

As the future King of the Devildom, he was drawn to all things dark and mysterious and you fit both of those categories to a T. 

How could he not be attracted to you when you already looked like you belonged?

Diavolo is a very busy man though and didn’t have much time to get to know you at first.

Instead, he had to admire you from afar.

He noticed the way that you wouldn’t be afraid of things in the Devildom. Most humans would have already run for the hills by now.

But you welcomed those things and even looked excited while experiencing them.

When Diavolo finally had a chance to speak with you privately, he wanted to know everything about you.

He was curious to know how you perceived the supernatural and what stories the human world offered about them versus how they actually were in real life.

He wears his classic boyish grin as the two of you talk about it. It’s the first conversation in a long time that he’s been so invested in.

After the two of you grow closer, you manage to convince him to try the makeup.

But, he’ll only do it in your presence. He doesn’t want others to see him with goth makeup in case he can’t pull it off.

But, goth makeup on Diavolo is a 10/10 - especially if he’s in his demon form.

Barbatos won’t mention anything right away, but he does find your goth appearance intriguing. 

Were humans starting to become more in tune with the dark secrets the world had to offer or was it just you?

He had been alive for far too long to be able to keep up with every fashion trend that came out. They all blurred together for him.

But this one stood out. It was alluring in the best way.

It was a look that demanded one’s attention and then refused to let it go. 

And whenever you were in the same room as him, his attention was all on you. 

He would do his best to perform his tasks like normal but his eyes would find their way to you no matter how many times he tried to look away.

He can’t deny the excitement he has when you talk to him about the Devildom.

You have such a natural curiosity for dark things and Barbatos has such an affinity for talking about them.

And your perspective on things in life is refreshing. 

He’s had so many mundane conversations in his life but you find a way to always grab his attention.

The two of you would get along very well.

Simeon is a bit taken aback by your appearance at first.

He came from the Celestial Realm where everything was bright and bubbly. 

So, he didn’t know what to think when he saw you decked out in such attention-grabbing makeup and clothes.

There was no doubt about it, you looked great.

But what was it about your look that was so appealing? He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Simeon does some research on the side to understand goth culture.

He finds it much easier to bond with you after knowing why you wear the makeup that you do and the customs surrounding it.

As an angel, he should have been put off by the fact that you were drawn to darker-themed ideas.

But, Simeon secretly had an inner desire to try some darker things himself.

He’s lived his whole life as an angel - don’t judge him.

This inner desire is what drove him to ask you to do his makeup. He just wanted to see what he looked like with it on. For research purposes.

Luke ended up catching the two of you and nearly had a meltdown. So, Simeon didn’t dare try it again.

But you did inspire his main character for his new book.

Being a fellow human, Solomon knows all about the goth trend.

So, there’s no need to have to sit him down and explain it to him.

That being said, you are the first person he had seen execute the look so perfectly and he can’t help but admire you.

How do you manage to get your makeup to look so perfectly? And do you make your own clothes or do you buy them online? Surely you can’t find some of the items you wear at the regular outlet store.

Oh, you want him to try the look out? He couldn’t possibly do that…he says as he’s handing you the eyeliner.

Solomon pulls off the look very well and you have him questioning himself. Why hadn’t he ever thought to try this out?

Solomon will use his new look to prank the brothers with you - especially Mammon.

They don’t quite understand the goth culture so he’ll make it a point to go out of his way to make them think it’s so much more sinister than it is.

“Mammon, let us drink your blood, won’t you?” The white-hair demon ran faster than when he was running from Lucifer.

“Satan, I think I’m having an allergic reaction to the garlic you put in this meal.” The fourth-born laughs it off until you both start hyperventilating.

Then he’s freaking out and looking for a cure until you and Solomon burst out laughing. Not funny.

Solomon would 100% be your partner in crime.