#here's to finding out something about anything

[flowergirl1243]

soft launch season - [part one]

SUMMARY: when Lando Norris' notorious party boy reputation may be too far out of control to save, you step in to save his image (and maybe his heart). PAIRING: lando norris x fem!reader

part one part two part three part four part five part six

ACT 1: THE GLITCH IN HIS SYSTEM

Lando couldn't find it within himself to care about the murmurings swirling around his reputation. Media sharks who spent their lives digging painfully into others with sharp vulture claws and merciless taunts. They weren't happy when he was winning, they weren't happy when he was losing. Why adhere to their strict bindings, when all it did was cause him unnecessary suffering?

If they wanted to call him a party boy, then that's what he would be. To the world, he would never be anything more than 'Lando Nowins', so he couldn't see a point in trying anymore. He was always "too nice" or "quick to make mistakes" or "lacking the killer mindset", the one that seemed to have been gifted to Oscar and Max. The headlines taunted him, punishing him for his kindness. A Formula One driver with a soul? Inconceivable. He could never be a World Champion.

Instead, he drowned himself in late nights out, in Monaco, in London, in Miami. Maybe somewhere on his troubled journey in those exclusive night clubs and bars he might find himself. Something inside of himself that was worth saving, deserving of some kind of love. But whiskey shot after whiskey shot proved to do nothing to save his soul, only leaving him drained and alone in his apartment, staring up at the roof, praying the ceiling fan might have the answers.

It never did.

Lando stared furiously at his phone screen. Trust Max Fewtrell to write something so infuriatingly cryptic and then disappear with no further comment. What did he mean by "having someone who can help"? What did that even mean?

Lando groaned, his hangover pounding his head with two iron fists, his thoughts trying to break out of the jail of his mind.

What do you mean you have something who can help? He types desperately again.

Max's reply comes another seven minutes later. Her name is Y/N. She's perfect.

What?! He texted desperately. Perfect for what?

The only way to reclaim your image is to rewrite your image, came Max's response. Y/N can help you do that.

Lando stared in utter disbelief at his best friend's messages. What have you done?

@lando posted to their story

Lando pulled up to the curb outside the cafe he and Y/N had agreed to meet at. As he put the car in park, he took a moment to question what had happened to his life. What happened to his life that he was now meeting with a girl he'd never met and pretend to be her boyfriend? All to 'rescue' his image. There was nothing left to salvage there, he was sure.

Eventually, he made his way into the cafe and there, waiting patiently with a soft poise that would make even a ballerina jealous, was Y/N. Her hair framed her face in a way that made her seem to glow from within and her eyes were pools of something deeper than he would ever understand. She smiled when she saw him, as if he wasn't the greatest burden to ever cross her path.

"Lando," she said his name reverently, as if he was worth something.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Hi."

She didn't seem deterred by his shortness or the way his eyes darted to the clock on the wall, as if counting down the minutes until this could all be over.

"I really appreciate you coming to see me today," she said easily as they joined the order line. "I know you're very busy."

Lando's thoughts paused in surprise. Here this girl was, apologising to him as if she was the inconvenience in this relationship. His mouth dropped open and he gaped a little at her.

"No," he said slowly. "It was the least I could do, considering."

She looked confused at his words, tilting her head up to stare piercingly at him, as if trying to uncover his soul. "Considering what?"

He laughed awkwardly, shuffling his feet. "Considering you're the one that's giving up your time to be my fake girlfriend. I'm sure you are very busy."

She waved her hand softly in the air. "Really, Lando, it's nothing. I owed Max a favour and it really isn't a bother."

The hours went by a little too fast after that. She bought herself a matcha and when he subtly pulled his nose up to the unusual green colour, she laughed and told him he didn't know what he was missing. It was easy, to find a rhythm with her. Maybe this is what Max had meant by Y/N being perfect. She was soft, sweet, witty in a way that caught him a little off guard. There was something about the pull of her lips when she smiled that caused calmness to roll over his body.

“You know,” she said at one point, swirling the straw in her matcha, “when Max asked me to do this, I thought you’d be…unbearable.”

Lando choked on the ice coffee he had taken a sip of. "Wow. Thanks."

"I mean," she shrugged, simply as if she hadn't just backhand complimented him. "Your reputation."

Two words. Simple. "Yeah...That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?" He muttered, albeit a little dejectedly.

She didn’t respond immediately. When he looked up, she was watching him again with that unsettlingly steady expression. “You don’t have to be that guy all the time, you know.”

He blinked. “What guy?”

“The one the media talks about like he’s some reckless frat boy who doesn’t care about anything but the next party and the next podium. I don’t think that’s really you.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. No one ever said things like that to him. Not unless they wanted something in return.

As they got up to leave, she handed him her phone. “Put your number in. We should, you know, coordinate our stories. Or whatever.”

He took it, fingers brushing hers. Her skin was cold from the drink. He punched in his number and handed it back.

“Talk soon, boyfriend,” she said with a teasing smile, turning to walk away.

Lando stood there for a second too long, watching her disappear out the door, wondering what the hell he’d just gotten himself into.

1 voicemail from lando [0:40]

"hi y/n...i don't actually know why i'm calling you right now. [pause]. i guess i just wanted to say thank you...for everything you're doing for me. i don't know what max is bribing you with. must be something good for having to deal with me [laughs]...anyway, it's 3am here, so i should probably get some sleep. uh, bye."

@lando posted to their story

He didn’t know why he asked her.

He could’ve gone alone. He usually did. Monaco was quiet at night, and the streets didn’t glare at him the way headlines did. But when he saw her name on his phone, it felt like instinct. No plan. No PR stunt. Just a thought he followed without overthinking it for once.

Twenty minutes later, she slid into the passenger seat of his car like she’d done it a hundred times before. Hoodie on, hair a little messy, no makeup. Still looked like she belonged.

“You always drive around in the middle of the night?” she asked, pulling her seatbelt across her chest.

“Only when I’m avoiding people.”

“Lucky me,” she said, and her voice had that dry amusement he was starting to get used to. She wasn’t trying to be charming. She just was.

They didn’t talk much at first. Monaco lit up in gold outside the windshield, and she played some soft, moody song he didn’t recognise. Normally he’d make a joke about it, about her being a walking indie film, but he didn’t. It fit. She fit. It scared him a little, the way she mixed so comfortably into the messiness of his life.

She had one leg tucked under the other and her cheek resting against the window. Every now and then he’d glance over, just to catch her expression. She wasn’t smiling, but she didn’t look guarded either. Just calm.

He took the long way up the coast, windows cracked enough to let the salt air in. No one was out. Just them and the sea.

When they reached the overlook, he parked and killed the engine. Everything stilled. The city blinked far below them, and for a moment, Lando forgot they were pretending anything.

She leaned back in her seat. “You always bring your fake girlfriends up here?”

He smirked. “You’re the first.”

“Wow. I feel so special.”

“You should,” he said, quieter than he meant to.

She looked at him then. Just looked. And he hated how much it disarmed him.

He was used to being seen. Cameras, crowds, the noise of it all. But she didn’t look at him like that. She wasn’t impressed or curious or calculating. She was just...there. Unbothered. Honest.

He looked down at the steering wheel, fingers tapping mindlessly.

“I know I’m kind of a joke right now,” he said. “Party boy. PR disaster. Whatever the hell people are calling me.”

There was a beat of silence. Then:

“I don’t think you’re a joke,” she said.

He swallowed. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know you drive around Monaco at night when you can’t sleep. That feels like a start.”

He glanced at her, lips twitching. “You planning to write a memoir or something?”

She shrugged. “Only if you keep being interesting.”

They didn’t say much after that. The music kept playing, and the lights kept blinking, and her head tilted back against the seat like she wasn’t in any rush to leave.

And Lando…he didn’t want to move either.

There was something terrifying about how easy it was with her. How quiet the world felt when she was in it.

Lando wasn’t nervous.

At least, that’s what he told himself while tugging his cap lower on his head and adjusting the sunglasses he didn’t need. Monaco was bright, sure, but this wasn’t about sun protection. This was about deflection.

The whole thing had been his Max's idea. “Let them see you with her,” he had said. “Just once. Nothing crazy. Coffee, a walk. You don’t even have to touch. Let people start talking.”

So now here he was. Standing outside a cafe he never went to, trying to look casual, like he wasn’t waiting for a girl who wasn’t actually his girlfriend.

When she arrived, it threw him off. Not because she looked overly done up, she didn’t. If anything, she looked like she always did. Low-effort in that annoying, perfect way. White tank, sunglasses perched on her head, a little silver ring on her thumb that she kept fidgeting with.

“You’re early,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not. You’re late.”

She smirked. “You’re nervous.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. “I’m not.”

“You so are. It’s cute.”

So now they were here. Somewhere between late afternoon and evening, sunlight stretching long and warm across the pavement, the kind of glow that made everything look softer than it really was.

He hadn’t meant to put his arm around her. It just…happened. Like breathing. Like blinking. Like his body moved before he had time to remind himself this was all supposed to be for show.

But she didn’t flinch. Didn’t tense up or make a joke. She just slid her arm around his waist, fingers slipping easily into the back pocket of his jeans like it was second nature.

And suddenly, they were walking like that, like they’d done it a hundred times before.

He could feel the weight of her hand. The warmth of her skin where her shoulder pressed into his side. Every nerve in his body seemed to be tuned to her without permission.

She smelled like sunscreen and vanilla. She was humming something under her breath. And every time someone looked their way, she leaned a little closer into him, like she was in on the same secret.

Lando’s eyes flicked up once, and yeah, there were people watching. Someone had their phone out. Someone else was whispering.

But for once, he didn’t care.

It didn’t feel like acting. Not in this moment. Not with her weight against him, her laughter soft in his ear at something he barely said. It didn’t feel like damage control or a headline waiting to happen.

It felt…nice.

Dangerous, maybe. But nice.

And that was the part that scared him more than the cameras.

Because if he let himself believe it for too long, he wouldn’t want to stop.

Lando could feel it, eyes flicking toward them from behind phone screens. The woman across the street pretending to scroll through her phone while clearly recording.

He hated it. Not being seen, he was used to that. He hated the way people looked at her. Like she was a puzzle they hadn’t solved yet.

She didn’t seem to care. She walked alongside him like no one was watching, like she did this every day. Maybe that was the trick. Maybe if he acted like this wasn’t a performance, it would stop feeling like one.

“You’re good at this,” he said eventually.

“At what?”

“Pretending.”

She paused, then looked up at him. And for a second, he thought he saw something shift in her face. Not quite a smile. Not quite sadness either.

“Who says I’m pretending?”

Hello, my angels! Part two will be coming soon, maybe!

[thehoneybeestings]

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩!𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Word Count: 1k Content/Warnings: nsfw, porn w no/little plot, brothel worker!reader x service top!sev, bottom!reader, fem reader (no anatomy mentioned), masochist!reader, traffic light system A/N: based on this post! credits to @no1jinxer for the idea! it's in the name; sev is high on shimmer fucks the shit out of you. enjoy <3

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐁𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──

୨ৎ Sevika on Shimmer, who usually refuses to set foot into the brothel under the influence of its effects 

୨ৎ But tonight, she’s got a job to do

୨ৎ She’s been tracking a rival chem-baron for a few weeks now, and it hadn’t taken her long to figure out that he frequented the brothel

୨ৎ So, she struck up a deal with Babette; “I’ll pay you and your girls double for the next three months if you’ll give me a ring the next time he shows up.”

୨ৎ “You’d pay me twice to see Y/n, anyway,” Babette scoffs; but ultimately, they shake on it, and the rest is a waiting game

୨ৎ When Babette does give her the call, she’s there in less than 10 minutes, and he’s dead in less than five

୨ৎ She doesn’t typically let work get personal, but when she’d heard from a few of Babette’s girls that this chem-baron tended to get a bit too rough with them, it was hard not to let anger fuel the job more than she typically would

୨ৎ And as soon as he’s been taken care of, she makes her rounds, peeking her head into every open door to ensure that everyone’s okay

୨ৎ When she makes it to you, she releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding upon finding you arranging pillows on the velvet couch, unassuming as ever

୨ৎ “Hey, doll,” she sighs. “You okay in here?”

୨ৎ You’re calling her name in excitement before you can help it, head whipping around to look at her; and when you do, you find her in a state you’ve never seen; only heard of 

୨ৎ Her copper arm hums with energy, working hard to circulate the unmistakable glow of shimmer through its workings and into her bloodstream

୨ৎ Her scar glows with the same hue, glittering like hot coals of magenta

୨ৎ And her eyes; lilac pulses in their irises, her gaze even more alluring now than it usually is

୨ৎ  You don’t realize your own eyes have gone wide until she breaks the silence with a voice raspy from exertion 

୨ৎ “I know,” she begins, almost apologetically, “I don’t normally let folks see me like this unless they’re about to get their shit rocked-”

୨ৎ “It’s okay,” you quickly interrupt, shaking your head. “I mean, I’m not scared, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

୨ৎ She nods tentatively 

୨ৎ “Okay… and you’re alright?”

୨ৎ “I’m just fine, Vika. Come, sit,”

୨ৎ And when you take a step forward, she takes one back

୨ৎ “Listen… I can’t ask you for anything tonight. Not when I’m still riled up.”

୨ৎ You don’t take another step forward, but your eyes stay locked onto hers, your voice steady

୨ৎ “Do you want something?” 

୨ৎ She scoffs, dark lips stretching up into a wicked grin

୨ৎ “Baby, it’s you. Of course I do, but I don’t wanna hurt ya.” 

୨ৎ She doesn’t miss the way your lips quirk up into a smirk of their own

୨ৎ “Three months of comin’ to see me… and you haven't figured out that I like a little pain?”

୨ৎ Her face falls- morphs into something serious, something dangerous- and she raises her brows in a silent inquiry:

୨ৎ ‘You sure you know what you’re asking for?’

୨ৎ The cock of your own brow in return says:

୨ৎ ‘You have no idea.’

──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──

୨ৎ Sevika on Shimmer, who never would have thought such a sweet thing like you would turn out to be such a masochist

୨ৎ And when you’re begging like that for her to mark you up, throw you around, leave you sore… what kind of service top would she be to deny you?

୨ৎ Eventually, she starts showing up with an extra cartridge of shimmer, loving the way you go dumb for her when she triggers it and fucks you into tomorrow

୨ৎ It takes her a while to get comfortable with being as rough as you want her to be, not because she doesn’t want to, but because the last thing she wants is to hurt you in a way that suddenly isn’t fun anymore

୨ৎ But, just as always, you’re more than patient, and make her feel more than safe to explore this new facet of her time spent with you

୨ৎ She’ll bite down, and you say harder, she’ll pull your hair, and you say rougher, she fucks you deep, and you say deeper; until she knows just how limp you really want to be by the end of the night

୨ৎ And she has to admit; it’s nice

୨ৎ Really nice

୨ৎ She’s usually already pent up from the bullshit of her day’s work when she comes to see you, but when she’s pent up and wired off the purple substance flooding her system?

୨ৎ She can’t deny that blowing off all that steam in the form of ravaging you is quite the gift you've given her

୨ৎ Of course, Sevika still will not sleep with you if she’s too high to rein herself in the moment you need her to, and as much as she checks in with you when she’s not using it, expect twice the requests for your color and triple the orders to remind her of your safeword when she is

୨ৎ But, damn… quite frankly, you give her a run for her money, and that isn’t easy to do

୨ৎ By the time she’s done with you, you’re littered in bite marks and bruises, legs trembling and face tear-stained

୨ৎ She finds that aftercare with you makes the come down off of shimmer so much easier to handle, too; that pressing kisses to every mark she’s made and whispering praises in your ear as she wipes away at your shuddering form helps ground her just as much

୨ৎ And then, she sleeps like a Gods-damned baby

୨ৎ She never falls asleep at the brothel; or so she thought, but here she is, being woken up by an angel in pink lingerie letting her know that it’s closing time

୨ৎ Of course, she flips out when you tell her she’s been asleep for hours, but you refuse to wake her up and kick her out, caring more that she catches up on the sleep you know she’s not getting than the money you could've made in those hours

୨ৎ But, it’s not like the money matters; she pays double for you, now

──˚₊ 𝐄𝐍𝐃 ‧₊˚──

[moonyvvamp]

been thinking a lot about Rumi being quirky because of the demon dna and highkey feel like she does adorable shit because of it.

Like we know the demon teeth thing and all that but she probably has that trademark autistic ass smile, and looks like toothless trying to imitate hiccup a lot. Jinu probably got practice looking hot but Rumi's been learning on the go, homegirl doesn't know how to smile, she has to take classes.

Whenever the girls need something found, she finds it because she can track their scent using enhanced senses, she uses heavy duty headphones because her ears are really sensitive.

Accidentally breaks things a lot, whenever they need a jar opened or anything Rumi opens it for them. But when Zoey or Mira make something for her she's extra careful about her superhuman strength.

she also appears out of nowhere a lot, jumpscare queen alert, no one can win in hide and seek against her. Their haunted house bits go hard because half the time Zoey is screaming with Mira trying to calm her down because something touched her and it's just Rumi on stealth mode

Rumi can't go to a lot action movies because the stimuli sends her demon genes into overdrive and she just starts seeing everything in 4D and it gives her headaches. With fancy stages it's cool because she knows the elements that go into it, she's focusing on the honmoon and she has her inear to guide her. But what is she supposed to do in a stuffy movie theater in the dark? she kind of freaks out because she can't focus enough to tell the difference between demons and humans there and the girls have to escort her home.

She probably also whispers in their ears a lot. Mira and Zoey are just sitting and here comes Rumi out of nowhere blowing air into their ears and whispering " Let's finish a tub of ice cream " Like a very adorable devil.

And considering the fact that demons are all literally starving and most of their soul portions goes to gwi-ma some part of her is also hardwired to fight tooth and nail for food, especially when she's really hungry. She instinctively pulls bowls closer and stares unnervingly when the girls reach for it and they have to verbally assure her that she can finish it.

On the inverse I think she also gets very protective, like someone talks shit about the girls and Rumi's there with a scary glint in her eyes going " Take it back or else " She isn't sure about the else yet but she looks terrifying enough that they do take it back and beg for forgiveness.

And this is just plain adorable but I love how they confirmed that Rumi is the type to puff out her chest and stand there like a kindergartener who just managed to colour inside the lines. She probably does that a lot too.

[paarksunghoon]

resignation (9)

SUMMARY: For the last six years, you’ve dedicated your career to ensuring Park Sunghoon never misses a day of work in his life. But you’re tired of endless days that seem to blend together, and seeing him living his fun, luxurious lifestyle makes you think about what else you might be missing out on. When Sunghoon finds your resignation letter on his desk, he does everything in his power to convince you to stay.

NOTES: life & summer got in the way, so enjoy this extensive chapter x

(unedited, so...typos)

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: oral (m/f receiving), unprotected sex, semi-public sex, 69, chest-obsessed hoon, fingering.

SERIES PLAYLIST + SERIES MASTERLIST

***

When you wake up, it takes you a minute to realize you’re sleeping next to Sunghoon. 

Much like the first night you awoke in his guest bedroom, your panic subsides when you remember where you are. You blink slowly to grow accustomed to the morning light and look beside you to see a sleeping, naked Sunghoon. 

Your mind replays memories of the night prior and you start to blush all over again. It feels right to describe it like a night of passion. For as cheesy as that is, years of pent up sexual tension finally exploded in this bedroom. 

You’ve never seen Sunghoon look so peaceful before. His eyelashes look unfairly long against his cheeks and he snores quietly. You sit up on your elbow and peer at him below, taking in his quiet demeanor amidst the stillness of the room. He doesn’t feel like your boss right now. He feels like a lover. 

His chest anchors against the mattress with his face turned towards you, and you try not to reach your hand out to touch him. Sunghoon radiates warmth, even from the distance you put between your bodies. You’re still naked and push the sheets over your chest to give you some sort of dignity, but something tells you that isn’t necessary. 

Is it normal to feel so…calm? 

There’s no sense of dread about going into work and inevitably facing a million emails from people you don’t care about. You move on autopilot most days, running through the same routine to the point where you grow tired of it. But here, in Sunghoon’s vacation home, you feel more relaxed than you have since working with him. 

It’s weird and unsettling. You don’t scramble for your phone—did you even charge it last night?—nor do you push yourself to do something with your day to avoid feeling the endless doom of the incoming week. Something about seeing Sunghoon breathing peacefully beside you puts you at ease, and that thought alone makes you a bit nervous. It’s hard enough that you aren’t the type of person to fall for everyone you meet. Even harder when you’re in love with someone who might not feel the same way. What a recipe for disaster. 

As if he hears your loud thoughts, Sunghoon opens his eyes and sees you looking down at him.

“You like watching me sleep?” You shove Sunghoon at his bicep but he merely chuckles and turns on his back to look at you. You try not to blush too much at his shirtless nature and sculpted body. 

“Nothing to look at.”

“Right.” 

You’re lying, clearly. His morning voice is deep and raspy, unlike anything you’ve ever heard before. He blinks at you with those sleepy eyes after putting your body through the mattress for hours on end. Sunghoon looks painfully normal like this. 

“How long have you been awake?” Sunghoon asks, reaching for your hand before putting it on his chest. You feel how warm his body is. 

“Not long.” Your fingers start to trace on his skin. “Forgot where I was for a second, though.” 

“Mm,” he hums. “You forgot how I fucked you so good you came screaming every time?”

“Sunghoon.” You bury your head in his chest and feel him laugh from your hiding spot. Sunghoon wraps an arm around you loosely and pulls you closer to him.

“Can’t handle the truth, can you? What happened to my headstrong girl?”

“You’re such an asshole, Park.” 

“Your asshole, no?”

Your heart flutters. 

“Keep teasing me and you won’t be,” you say, looking up at him. He smirks and closes the gap, pressing a short kiss to your lips.

“We’ll see about that. Although, you should know I haven’t had a good night’s sleep like that in weeks.” 

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah, baby. You have a magical pussy, or something.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.”

“I’m serious.” He lifts himself off of the bed until you’re lying back on his mattress, staring up at his deep brown eyes. Sunghoon’s lips quirk into a smirk when his hand disappears underneath the covers and lands on your bare core. “Fuck. Still as good as I remember.” 

You open your legs and welcome the intrusion. His fingertips dance along your folds and you look up at him with a somewhat mischievous grin on your face. Sunghoon brings his hand up to his mouth, sticks his tongue out to lick the pad of his fingers, then puts it back onto your cunt. 

Sunghoon inserts his middle finger and is pleasantly surprised to find you as wet as you are. He breathes heavily and supports his body on his elbow to get a better angle. He moves his hand at a slower pace, feeling every drag of your walls as he pushes himself in and out of you. 

“Pretty baby.” The compliment comes out of nowhere and he kisses you right after. It’s tender and warm, but hot and sensual at the same time. 

Somewhere along the way, you take initiative and reach out to his lap. He’s already half-hard by the time you touch him, and he groans into your mouth when you wrap your hand around his dick. Swiping your thumb against his slit brings out a deep moan within him, and Sunghoon plunges his finger into you even deeper. 

He grows harder in your hand by the minute. The two of you are barely kissing at this rate. Sunghoon’s added another finger into your wet cunt and you focus on hearing just how much you’re splashing against his palm while stroking him, using the precum that’s oozing out to make him wet too. Your lips are just touching. You can feel his uneven breaths when you tug on his cock and twist your wrist, and Sunghoon keeps a steady gaze on you when you squeeze his base. 

Sunghoon mutters a quiet fuck and your heart swells with pride. When it comes to your professional life, it seems difficult to get a positive reaction out of him unless you go above and beyond. But when it’s just the two of you in his bedroom, Sunghoon praises you like it gets him off too. 

His precum leaks from his tip and you use your hand to coat it around him. Your palm feels his warm, throbbing dick that pulsates every time you twist your wrist. Sunghoon’s fingers falter every now and then. It feels like a victory to have him let his guard down. Although your day job is to take care of him, you find that Sunghoon seldom allows you to actually do it. 

“Let me take care of you.” 

You whisper it against his lips so tenderly that Sunghoon pulls away and looks down at you like he’s trying to decipher a difficult riddle. His fingers pause inside of you. 

“Me? Don’t you do that enough?” 

You roll your eyes and pull your hips from his hand. Sunghoon watches you with a curious arch to his brow as you maneuver onto the bed and move yourself between his legs as he spreads them apart. You pull the sheets off him, not caring that you’re naked too, and drink him in like you’re seeing him for the first time. 

His dick stands tall and proud. It felt so big inside of you last night. The thought of putting it in your mouth and sucking the soul out of him makes you clench around absolutely nothing and you feel no shame for it. 

You don’t look at Sunghoon directly, but you know he’s looking at you. His gaze is somewhere between watchful and lazy. It’s a perfect combination of curiosity and expectation, especially when you lay your chest down onto his mattress and wrap both hands around his base. Sunghoon flexes his thighs and breathes like he’s willing himself to calm down. 

You kiss his tip first and savor the salty taste of his precum before moving your lips to put gentle kisses all over him. You don’t know what compels you to be as gentle as you are. Perhaps it’s the morning sunlight and the quiet of the neighborhood that’s making you feel this way. It’s unlike the loud, bustling city that Seoul is. There’s no expectation to hurry and get started on your day. There’s just Sunghoon. 

He hums when you wrap your lips around the head and suck on it. Sunghoon’s hands clench beside him like he’s trying to get a grasp on reality, especially when your tongue swirls around it. You let your spit collect until it’s nearly spilling out of your mouth before pushing another couple of inches into your mouth and suck. That elicits a gasp from Sunghoon, who pushes his hands deep into the mattress. 

Like he’s done with you before, you reach for his hand and pry his finger away from his palm. He opens his eyes and looks down at your hand as your mouth works on his cock and immediately laces his fingers with your own. You’re still surprised at how they’re so soft. Sunghoon must take good care of himself.

With your other free hand, you grab his balls and gently squeeze them as you rise to push yourself down on his dick. Your throat constricts around his girth and you don’t pay any attention to the spit that falls from the both corners of your mouth. It adds lubrication and you ignore every uncomfortable sensation to fit even more of him. 

Sunghoon makes the most gorgeous noises. His deep voice echo throughout the room and his chiseled chest makes him look like a supermodel who stepped out of a fashion magazine. He’s gorgeous in every sense of the word and the fact that he isn’t afraid to moan in front of you makes him that much hotter. Sunghoon lets his pleasure do the talking and doesn’t disrupt your ministrations to get him off faster. You like that he’s letting you take control. 

Eventually, you pull him out of your mouth to catch your breath and focus on pumping his cock while your mouth travels down to his balls. He moans even louder when  you massage them with your tongue and switch them in and out of your mouth. The noises he makes are unlike anything you’ve ever heard from him. Sunghoon sounds pained and pleasured at the same time, almost like he’s been waiting to feel this good his entire life. 

“Shit, baby,” he says finally after regaining his composure. The hand that isn’t holding yours grabs your hair into a messy ponytail and you put your mouth back around his cock. 

Sunghoon doesn’t have to say anything else. With the way his thighs clench and how he grits his teeth while grunting, you know he’s close to his orgasm. He doesn’t push your head until you move it up and down his shaft, and you feel him grip onto your hair tighter. It makes you moan around his dick and he rewards you by emitting the deepest, sexiest sound you’ve ever heard from him. He pulls and pushes you down on his cock until he’s spurting his come right down your throat. 

It’s a welcomed sensation, but only because it’s Sunghoon. You don’t fight his hot seed, nor do you try to pull your head away from him. His grip on your stills and keeps you right where he wants you. You do your best to swallow every drop without choking on it and breathe through your nose to avoid coughing it up. Some of it spills from your mouth and you desperately chase it when he lets go of your hair. You don’t even feel embarrassed to lick up all of him that escaped your throat and you don’t notice Sunghoon looking down at you like he can’t believe you let him do that. 

When you sit up, Sunghoon immediately pulls you to him and kisses you. He doesn’t seem to care that he can taste himself on your mouth, and that makes you that much wetter. His cock, still hard even after coming to an orgasm just a minute prior, prods at your bare hole when you situate yourself on his lap. 

“You’re perfect,” Sunghoon mutters through sloppy, wet kisses. “My perfect girl.” 

“I give pretty good head, don’t I?” 

He gently smacks the side of your thigh. “You like teasin’ me, baby?” 

“Maybe.” You giggle against his mouth and he grins, pecking you once. 

“Mm. Won’t argue with you because that mouth of yours just made me come.” 

Even after having his dick in your mouth, his boldness still makes you shy. You look at him and bite your lip before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and digging your head into the crook of his neck. He laughs and you feel that vibrate along his naked chest. Sunghoon merely pulls you away from him and strokes the side of your face to push the hair from your eyes. 

“You’re so cute,” he coos. “Such a shy little thing when I have you in my bed.” 

“Total bitch when I’m in the office though, am I right?”

His grin widens. “Oh, yeah. Wouldn’t have it any other way. You don’t want to know how many boners I’ve dealt when you rip me a new one.” 

“You’re so weird.” His hot cock rests under your slit and Sunghoon can feel you aching against him. He lifts your lap up to position his tip against your hole and allows you to slowly sink onto him at your own pace until you’re fully seated on his lap. 

“Fuck,” you moan while his fingers caress your back as you slowly ride him. “So big.” 

Sunghoon looks up at you with dazed eyes like he just might love you. That smile he gives you makes your heart flutter. 

“You have the most perfect pussy.” 

That makes your face hot. 

“Hoon…” 

“Hoon,” he moans, eyes closing shut for just a brief second while his mouth warps into a lazy smile. “Call me that again.”

“Hoon?”

“Again.”

He pushes you down on his cock and pushes into your lap until it reaches your depths. 

“Hoon!”  

You yelp when he pulls your body down to his chest and brace yourself by flattening your palms on his chest and the mattress. Sunghoon’s hips drill right into yours at lightning speed. His tip hits the very spot he’s been managing to find this entire weekend and you feel completely limp against him. Every time you try to position yourself upright, Sunghoon tightens his grip around you while bending his legs to push into you at a deeper angle. 

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the way he feels inside of you. His skin is warm and sticky from the friction and his muscles are so hard underneath your grip. With one hand on his chest and the other on his bicep, your nails dig into his skin and you hear Sunghoon hiss at the pain throughout his moans. He doesn’t say anything, though. In fact, knowing how hard you’re clinging onto him turns him on even more. 

The room might as well be the scene of a pornography video with the way the two of you are moaning. Nobody’s ever pulled these kinds of sounds out of you and when you think about all of the women Sunghoon has slept with, you wonder if he’s ever fucked them as hard as he’s fucking you. 

Temporary jealousy takes over and that little pang in your chest makes you grab his jaw between your hands to kiss him hard. Teeth and tongue clash everywhere as Sunghoon responds immediately, mouth pushing against yours in a heated fury. You orgasm around him when he hits your sweet spot and he feels you moan right into his mouth. Sunghoon drinks it right up and uses his hands to pull your chest right against him as he finishes inside of you too. 

You don’t know what you’re a fan of more: the long, drawn out bedroom sessions or quick morning sex. Sunghoon still manages to leave you satisfied in a fraction of the time compared to the night before. He basks in your glory, hair sticking to his forehead and the sheen of sweat covering his naked body. Sunghoon watches as you look at him all over before you bite your lip and bend down to kiss him tenderly. 

Unlike the fast pace from moments before, Sunghoon accepts the slow kiss and keeps his hold on you with a feather-like touch. He caresses your spine like he’s done it a million times before, his dick softening inside of you with your shared orgasm spilling out. The plushness of his lips feel like two soft pillows you want to kiss over and over again. 

“Good morning,” you say, bringing your hand to brush the hair from his face. He looks at you fondly. 

“Good morning, baby.” 

“You look so good right now.” Sunghoon brings your hand from his hair to kiss your palm. 

“You’re so cute when you’re soft.” You bite your lip and hide your face in his neck and feel him laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this. I learn something new about you everyday.” 

“Don’t get used to it,” you mumble. Sunghoon grips your ass and gives it a hard squeeze. 

“I love it when you get feisty with me. But I like seeing you when you’re soft like this. It lets me know you trust me.” 

You pull yourself upright. “Does it?” 

“I’ve learned that you’re not easily impressed and it takes a while for you to let your guard down completely. When we’re at work, that's one thing. But from hearing your dating stories, it sounds like these guys didn’t give you a reason to stick around.”

“Well…that’s true.” 

He kisses underneath your jaw. “I don’t care if you’re yelling at me to get my shit done or being gentle. I like everything about you.” 

“Careful. You might say something you regret.” 

He looks you in the eye. 

“I always say what I mean.” 

The tension in the room is palpable and you almost say those three little words that seem to come easily for Sunghoon and no one else. You keep your tongue to yourself, however. He doesn’t seem to notice the inner turmoil going on inside of you and pulls out of you slowly before leaving to get a clean rag. 

Sunghoon beckons your legs open and cleans you up with a warm, wet rag. He’s gentle with his hands and smoothes over your folds and inner thighs. He holds you with such a delicate touch that it makes you feel as if you must be made of glass or something of more important weight. 

When he’s done, Sunghoon holds the cloth in one hand and bends down to press a long kiss onto your slip with his lips pushed right against them. He slips his tongue out and licks a stripe up your slit like he’s a kitten licking milk. He’s so attractive between your legs, especially with his eyes closed like he’s enjoying the meal. 

It’s too much for you to look at. You push his face away and close your legs while Sunghoon laughs and helps you up onto your feet, handing you a spare sweater before kissing you goodbye with the promise of meeting you for breakfast in the living room once you’re decent.

***

Midday comes around and the weather has gotten hotter as the sun reaches its peak. Lunch is long forgotten on the kitchen island as you pack a bowl of fruit and grab a few bottles of water to bring outside to the pool area. Sunghoon fetches a few towels and sunscreen before removing the protective barrier covering the pool, revealing stunning tiling that makes it look like a blue lagoon. 

The bikini you’re wearing barely hides any part of your body. The cups accentuate your breasts and you might as well have ditched the bottoms you’re wearing because they barely cover your ass. You can tell Sunghoon likes them too, with the way he’s been ogling your body ever since you walked out. He stares at your legs and the curve of your ass before trailing his eyes to the valley of your breasts. He’s shameless about it, too. But nothing about this feels like objectification. In fact, you want Sunghoon to look at you like you’re something he wants to devour. 

“Can you put sunscreen on me?” you ask him, holding out a bottle for him to use. Sunghoon takes it from your grasp and stares at your chest before his eyes flicker up to your eyes. 

“Sure, baby. Where do you want it?” 

You turn around and his eyes immediately follow your ass. You tilt your head until you can see him, and Sunghoon averts his gaze when you catch him staring. 

“Can you start with my back? I can’t reach there.” 

“Mhm.”

He hums when you turn your head back around and you hear the sunscreen squirt from out the bottle and onto his hands. Sunghoon rubs the product between his hands and you feel him put his palms on your shoulder blades before working it down your back. 

“This bikini…”

“You like?” 

“Yeah,” he says in disbelief. “I like it a lot.” 

“Haven’t had an excuse to wear it. I don’t have a pool in my apartment building.” 

“Mm,” he mumbles. “We should fix that.” 

You giggle. “Yeah, I guess we should. More trips to this house?”

“Whatever you want.” 

He sounds so unfocused that it nearly makes you double over in laughter. Sunghoon’s fingers reach the hem of your bikini bottoms before he brings his hands to cup your asscheeks, temporarily removing himself from your body to grab more sunscreen. 

“Can’t forget about your ass, baby. They might get sunburnt too.”

You push yourself out to him and look behind you. He’s barely paying attention to anything but your ass. “You’re so right, Hoon. Do you think you can put sunscreen there, too?” 

Sunghoon pushes the fabric together until it resembles a thong, using both of his enormous hands to spread the sunscreen all over you. He pulls apart your ass as if to inspect it and massages the meaty flesh before him until the product disappears. Sunghoon pushes your bottoms back to the appropriate position. 

“All done,” he says, clearing his throat. “I should put sunscreen on you everywhere just to be on the safe side, right?” 

“Right,” you say with a certain nod. “How about my chest?” 

“Good thinking.” He twists your body until you’re facing him and tugs on your bikini strings until his fingers graze your skin. “I think we should put some sunscreen here.” 

Sunghoon pulls the fabric away from your breasts to expose your taught nipples and nearly drools at the right. He bends down to suck your left nipple and squeezes the other, flicking his tongue expertly while you grab his head and moan softly above him. He hums around your nipple and pinches the other one gently before switching, taking his sweet time exploring your body while you stand helplessly. 

He pulls away faster than you’d like, but you relish in the way he looks completely dazed and out of it, like he forgot he’s supposed to put sunscreen on you. Sunghoon, acting in a daze, puts sunscreen all over your chest and stomach before clearing his throat and turning away. It makes you laugh. 

Sunghoon jumps in the pool and it splashes against the bottom of your legs. When he emerges, you fight the urge to squish your legs together. He wipes the water from his eyes and somehow, Sunghoon likes twice as good with water dripping down his body. It accentuates his muscles and you’re dripping wet without having jumped in yet. 

“I don’t bite,” he says when he sees you staring. Damn Sunghoon and the uptick on his mouth. 

You roll your eyes and get into the pool by the steps instead of jumping in like Sunghoon did. He waits for you to approach him and watches the way your assets bounce against the small currents from your movements. He licks his lips shamelessly and reaches his hands out to squeeze your hips when you come to him.

“There she is,” Sunghoon says. “There’s my girl.” 

You swat his chest. “You only like me because my tits are out.” 

Sunghoon averts his eyes to your chest. “Can’t say that isn’t true.” You fix your bikini top until your nipples are nearly peeking out just to tease him.

“Better?” He squeezes your hips. 

“Much better. Though, I think they’d look better if you took the bikini off.”

Sunghoon turns your body around until your back is pressed against his chest. His lips attach to your neck and he peppers kisses along your hot skin while his hands trail up your body to cup your breasts. His thumbs pass over your hardened buds and you don’t shy away from his touch. 

In fact, you encourage it. There’s no mistaking the arch in your back to press yourself against Sunghoon’s crotch. He grunts against your neck and cups your breasts through your top, giving them a gentle and firm squeeze. It makes you whimper softly against the sound of the pool water moving against the two of you and you swear Sunghoon grows harder by the second.

“Sexy girl,” he mutters, pulling the fabric covering your chest to the side to completely expose you. He hooks his chin on your shoulders and peers down at your breasts. “Fuck, they’re so beautiful.” 

It exhilarates you like no other to have him touch you like this in public, even though his backyard isn’t accessible unless you come from the house. Still, the prospect is still the same. 

“Let’s say we take these off, hm?”

He doesn’t wait for your permission, but it’s not like you’d decline him anyway and he knows it. Sunghoon moves his fingers slowly to untie your bikini top until it’s floating in the water next to you. He groans when your chest is free and cups them in his palms as he thrusts his hard dick against your ass. 

“Need my dick between your tits.” Sunghoon squeezes you again and you match the way he’s rubbing against you by pushing on him too. “Wanna see my come all over them.”   

“Yeah?” 

“Oh yeah, baby. I’ll fuck your perfect tits until they’re nice and dirty for me.” He drops one hand to your bottoms and bypasses the fabric until his fingers graze your slit. “Jesus, darlin’. Making me so horny in this little number of yours.” 

“Fuck,” you moan out. Sunghoon plunges a finger inside of you hastily and groans against your ear. His breath makes your body shiver and you feel him smirk right against you when he feels it. 

“I want to taste you right now.” 

He moves the two of you closer to the shallow end where the steps are and nudges you to turn around. You whimper when he withdraws his finger but the way he looks at you makes up for it. 

Your body’s halfway out the water and you feel more exposed when he undoes your bottoms, letting that float away in the water too. Sunghoon’s is rock hard against his swimming trunks when he bends down to bring his face closer to your naked cunt and licks a wide stripe up your slit.

You don’t shy away from moaning loudly and that seems to please Sunghoon, who licks you again and again until you’re moaning in contentment. You feel unburdened by anything and his mouth takes the stress from your body, and turns it into something pleasurable. 

His hands grip your thighs to keep you in place while his mouth attaches to your folds, lips puckered while his tongue runs across the expanse of your cunt like he’s trying to memorize every bit of you from this experience alone. Sunghoon is so good with his mouth that it astounds you how turned on you are just from oral. 

He hums when he feels your feet touch his back and buries his head deeper in you. The water subtly splashes around and the cool droplets lessens the burn of the hot sun. 

You’ve never imagined yourself to be someone as bold as this. Seldom do men make you feel comfortable enough to let your guard down, much less eat you out in a semi-public area. Sunghoon’s tongue explores your inner walls with every pass and his hands keep you grounded, reminding you to enjoy the present and turn your brain off. 

The hard concrete underneath you starts to feel uncomfortable and Sunghoon strokes your skin with his thumb as if to say you’re doing a great job withstanding the subtle friction. He moves his face until his tongue is perfectly hitting your clit repeatedly, making you come right on his mouth with your legs spread impossibly wide. The thrill of it all makes your stomach coil and you don’t shy away from bucking your hips right into his face. 

Sunghoon pulls back and his face looks absolutely wild, from his lust-filled eyes to his hard dick standing upright in his trunks. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand while you push your legs back underneath the water and attempt to stand on your own. He takes a step forward when you falter and kisses your forehead like he didn’t just devour you in his pool. 

“So good for me,” he mutters, moving to kiss your lips next. “I knew I’d get you out of your shell.” 

“Can’t believe I let you do that in public.” 

“Not technically public.” 

“Anyone could’ve seen!” He rolls his eyes when you laugh at him. You try not to seem bashful when he pulls himself out of his swim shorts but his hard, leaking dick looks you right in the eye and you become some animalistic version of yourself. 

“Atta girl,” Sunghoon says when you prop yourself over the ledge of the pool. 

You part your legs to fit him in between and he rubs your ass with one hand while gliding the tip over your hole with the other. The feeling of Sunghoon against your cunt will never get old. The intrusion is welcomed and encouraged, and he senses your eagerness when you squeeze around the head. 

It’s hot, mid-morning, and today feels like the kind of day to relax and unwind. Unlike this morning, Sunghoon doesn’t rush to make either of you orgasm. He sets a moderate pace and holds your hips while pushing his pelvis against your body. You’re content hearing him grunt behind you and your tits hangs over the ledge as he pushes and pulls from you repeatedly. 

To you, sex could never be as casual as this. It’s amazing how Sunghoon makes you feel like you don’t have to be ashamed to feel pleasure. You don’t need an excuse to have somebody adorn your body with their mouth or fuck you like they’re desperate for it. Here you are, spreading your legs and ass for your boss, but it feels like you’re on your first vacation with your boyfriend. 

You try not to think about that too much. Instead, you let the feeling of pleasure and euphoria takeover until you’re both coming. Sunghoon finishes inside and mutters something about how he doesn’t want to make the pool all dirty, and so your pussy is the only logical place to come. That makes you horny again, and you make him fuck you on the pool chair out in the open.

***

After the pool, you and Sunghoon decide you’ve played too hard to do anything that requires a functioning brain cell. The two of you shower together. Sunghoon tries to start something while you wash your hair and pouts when you tell him you need to clean yourself in peace. He waits patiently and doesn’t rush you, and you reward him by deep throating his cock until he bursts. 

The two of you dry up and spend the rest of the afternoon lazily lounging in his bed with the TV on in the background. For an hour, the two of you talk about everything and nothing, sneaking in a few kisses until you inevitably fall asleep on his chest. Sunghoon falls asleep shortly after. 

When you come to, Sunghoon is awake and checking his phone. You blink the sleep out of your eyes and see that he’s looking at an email for a dinner reservation. Sunghoon, who notices you’re awake when you stir above him, glances down and kisses your nose.

“Good morning, princess.” 

“It’s four in the afternoon, Hoon.”

“Good morning, princess,” he repeats. You swat his chest and fall back against him. “There’s a restaurant nearby that I really love. Romantic, candle lit, and everything. We have a reservation at seven.” 

“It’s so weird to let you handle this stuff,” you mutter against his neck before kissing it once. “I feel useless.”

“Relax and let me do the work, yeah? You can go back to being my assistant when we’re at the office.”

“I guess…” He grins when he hears your playful tone. 

“I know you’re sleepy, but I think you should get up and start getting ready. We need to leave by six-thirty to make it on time.”

You groan. “Wanna sleep. Wanna have sex a little more too.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Sunghoon pulls his body until he’s hovering over yours and locks eyes with you. “I knew you couldn’t get enough of me.”

“Not you. Your dick.” You bring a hand over his shorts to cup his bulge before squeezing it. 

Sunghoon spreads both of your legs wider and presses his covered crotch along your own covered mound, pushing himself until you feel his body heat. You can’t help but gasp, especially when you feel that he’s already started to harden against you. Sunghoon slowly grinds himself and the friction feels a bit too good to admit. He lifts his hips up and down until his hard dick is slotting themselves against your pussy. Your slick is already pouring out and your panties are pasted to the shape of your folds. 

“Feels so good,” you whisper against his lips when Sunghoon bends down to kiss you.

“I’ll fuck you some more after.” You whine when he pulls away. “Go get ready, brat. Let me be good to you. Stop sabotaging me with those eyes of yours.” 

You pout when you realize your seductive gaze isn’t working on him, but get up nonetheless.

Sunghoon gives you space and breathing room to get ready. He says he wants to be surprised by what you’re wearing and steps out of the room before you can say anything else. You put on some music while you paint your face a bit more elegant than normal, and feel the excitement of a date creep upon you.

While the two of you have had dinner just the two of you before, this feels like a real date. The intention of impressing him is clearly there. Your lips are an incredible shade of red and the way you did your eye makeup makes you look like a seductive siren. You don’t overthink it too much. This is Sunghoon, the man you’ve known for six years. He’s seen you naked and has finished inside you. There’s no reason to feel nervous.

But the nerves are still there. The warm feelings you have towards him creep up like a sleeper spy. They hit you when you least expect it and when you’re not distracted by him. The weighted reality of going back to Seoul and the two of you never addressing this weekend is a fear you have, but it’s one that doesn’t need to be addressed at this very moment. 

The lingerie you packed makes your body look like a sinful temptation. It leaves very little to the imagination and emphasizes your assets in a way that makes you feel more confident than not. The dress you’ve chosen makes you might as well be the most beautiful person in the room. Every insecurity you have seems to have vanished when you look at yourself in the full length mirror, and your nerves stem from excitement rather than worry. For the first time, you get a feeling that tonight won’t end up in tears and drowning your sorrows in cheap wine and popcorn. 

“Holy shit,” Sunghoon curses when you come out of the room. You hold your sleek pair of heels in your hands—a tall peep toe shoe with a buckle around the ankle—while Sunghoon’s eyes roam all over your figure. “Fuck, baby. I think I might cum right now.”

“Don’t flatter me too much.” It’s hard to avoid his eyes. He’s staring at your legs and beckons you to give him your shoes.

You stare in utter shock when Sunghoon bends to his knees to help you put them on. One by one, you slip into the heel and feel his fingers brush against your ankle until he’s standing in front of you with parted lips. Sunghoon looks delectable when he’s on his knees for you.

“I want to kiss you, but I’ll ruin your lip gloss,” he mumbles, eyes gazing at your mouth while his hands touch your hips. Sunghoon slowly kisses both of your cheeks instead. The way he’s looking at you makes your heart race.

He loops his arm with yours and leads you out the door. 

As promised, the restaurant is as romantic as Sunghoon described it. There are small candles on every table and the lighting is just low enough to make you feel like you and Sunghoon are the only two people in the room. 

The host leads you to the reserved table right by the window and the combination of the natural moonlight and the live band makes you feel like you stepped into a cliche romance novel. Usually, you’d turn your nose up at romantic endeavors, but tonight you feel like you’re brave enough to bask in its glory. 

Sunghoon pulls your chair out for you and you let him. Tonight, you’re his date. Not his assistant. 

“You look amazing.” You laugh.

“You said that four times already.” 

He grabs your hand above the table and starts playing with your fingers. Sunghoon, too, looks breathtaking. He’s slicked his hair back and you can see the silver jewelry adorning his neck and fingers. Sunghoon is so stylish, even down to his shoes, that it makes you feel a bit embarrassed to remember all of the guys who’ve dressed so poorly when they took you out on a date. 

Maybe it’s mean to judge those men for not having the means that Sunghoon does. But he’s clearly secure in himself and doesn’t mind letting you take center stage without a moment's notice. You saw it when he let you walk in front of him from the valet to the restaurant, and you saw it in the way he kept his eyes on you the entire time. You know you look good. He knows it too. 

If there’s one thing you love about Sunghoon, it’s that he seems to know what you’re feeling before you do. It’s your job to know that when he’s at work, but you often forget that he’s learned a lot about you in the time you’ve been working alongside him. He expertly suggests appetizers and cocktails that he thinks you’ll like and you actually enjoy them. Men from your past puff their chest and talk big for people who don’t know what they’re doing. 

You feel taken care of. And, if you’re honest with yourself, it feels good to let someone else take the wheel for a change. Sunghoon understands you on a level that is beyond your imagination. Neither of you have to speak in order to be on the same wavelength. It’s as if the two of you are two foreign objects working in tandem, completing each other without intent. 

It’s scary to realize how fast you’ve fallen for him. But on the other hand, were these feelings already there, and did you only act upon it when Sunghoon started to show interest in you too? You thought you had squashed these feelings down years ago, chalking it up to loneliness when you developed a small crush on your boss. Viewing him like the authoritative figure who signed your paychecks worked for a little while. Now, that method has gone down the drain. 

You’d always been a bit envious of the beautiful women in Sunghoon’s life and those who wanted to rub elbows with him. You never believed you could measure up because of the wealth disparage, and most would ignore your presence for the sake of having a good time with him. Working alongside him the first two years of your career was a challenge and a half. Picking him up from far away locations at ungodly hours of the morning tested your patience, as did seeing him with post-sex hair at 2 A.M. 

It was like a breath of relief when Sunghoon stopped seeing women so frequently. No more envy of the rich and famous, and no more heartbreak over the fact that he’d been with women who weren’t you. It was you who he called to fix his messes and it was you who he “came home to” at the end of the day. Per the requirements of your contract, you were always there for him and Sunghoon knew you’d be a call away. 

People push you out of the way when they realize you’re his assistant and not his equal. You’ve had your fair share of women weasel their way into his life with bad intentions and mistreat you because of it. Some are polite while others are snarky. Some try to butter you up with gifts and sweet words of affirmations, while others turn their noses in your direction. 

Learning to develop a thick skin came with time. Part of growing up meant knowing when to shut feelings off. You’d grown comfortable leaving your morality and emotions at the door every morning you stepped into the office building. Only when you’d read the threshold of your apartment would you break down into a puddle of tears. It’s a dog-eat-dog world and your position did not make life easier for you. 

Somewhere along the way, Sunghoon started to feel like a colleague rather than your boss. He started asking for your input and entrusted you with a few of his projects. As time passed by, the two of you developed a way of working well together without stepping on each other’s toes. For some accounts, you were the coordinator and liaison while Sunghoon took the backseat. On others, you were his acting assistant and remained that way until the end of the project. 

It almost felt like you were an employee of his status, too. You felt like you could’ve made a great career out of it. But jumping through hoops and glass barriers in your way posed a great challenge that you were not able to meet. Perhaps the stagnation of your job and the repetitive nature was what started to burn your light. Traveling to far away places only seems fun when you take the work aspect out of the equation. 

There was never enough time for you, and the accumulation of boredom and routine was what drove you to resign. But even now, in the wake of abandonment, Sunghoon cares for you. The end of the meal is anything but a sobering thought after multiple glasses of wine and enough food to make you feel like a rich heiress. What’s left is your raw feelings and your relentless love for him.

“You’re so good to me.” Sunghoon tilts his head and looks at you. 

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re so…attentive.” 

“I’d like to think I know you pretty well.”

“It’s hard for me to trust people completely.” 

He smiles softly. “I know.”

“I’m not used to letting my guard down, is what I’m trying to say. It feels like we’ve been on vacation for weeks, even though it’s only been a day.” 

“I care about you a lot, you know?” Sunghoon says. He sips on his wine without breaking eye contact, your own glass on its second pour. “You know me better than anyone else does.”

“Sometimes, I feel like I’ll never get out of the cycle I’m in. I’m scared that I’ll always feel lonely.”

He strokes your hand. “Is the second glass getting to you?” 

“Maybe…”

“You’re really cute.” 

You pout. “You keep saying that, but I’m telling you some depressing shit about how my life is boring and I’m sad all the time.”

“So cute.” 

He bites his lip and looks at you for a moment. It makes you feel like you’re under inspection. Perhaps it’s the wine that’s making you feel vulnerable and light-headed, but Sunghoon looks at you like he wants you to believe him. 

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I could never be the man I am today without you.” 

“You…You’re giving me too much credit.”

“No, baby.” You melt at his deep voice. “I don’t think I knew how intertwined our lives are until you gave me your resignation letter. You’ve been a constant in my life for the past six years and I took that for granted every single day. I want you to stay, but I don’t want you to choose me if that means sacrificing your own happiness.” 

His words pierce your heart.

“I’m…drunk.” 

Sunghoon seems to know what you mean. Your mind is too loud and combined with the volume of your heart pounding in your chest, you feel like nothing could ever capture what you want to say. Your eyes feel wet and glossy from his words and the alcohol that’s just on the precipice of wearing off. You’re sure you must look like some hot mess with smudged lipstick and a dazed look. To Sunghoon, you look like the epitome of perfection. 

“Let me take care of the bill, yeah? Let’s go home.” 

He kisses the back of your hand before standing up to pay. The empty dessert plates, insistent by Sunghoon, who tells you a tiramisu won’t kill your savory taste buds, sit on the table like they’ve been licked clean. It’s nice to jump off the deep end and do things differently every now and then. You can still feel his lips where he kissed you. 

When Sunghoon comes back, he kisses your forehead quickly before leading you out of the restaurant with his hand in yours. You let him lead you to the valet and will your beating heart to slow down before you die of a heart attack. The only thing you can think about when you’re in the car is how it feels like you’re his wife coming home after a much needed date night. You’re not his employee. You’re his equal. 

Sunghoon parks his car inside of the garage when you unbuckle and grab his face with both hands. You push your lips upon him by surprise and he makes a sound from the sudden movement, but his hands find themselves on your waist when you kiss him. It’s somewhere between heavy and seductive, rushed and calculated. You throw all inhibitions out the window and let your body do all the talking for you. There are no reservations and hidden insecurities when you’re with Sunghoon, just love. 

He pushes his hands up your dress and you happily moan against his touch. Sunghoon rewards you by kissing you harder and pulls away when he needs to catch his breath. 

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he mutters. His big, brown eyes look up at you and you wear you could finish right there. 

“I want you,” you whisper in the quiet of the garage. The hum of the fluorescent lights is the only thing you register, aside from how fast your heart is beating. 

“You have me.” 

Sunghoon beckons you out of the car after a few more kisses and promises to have fun with you when you resist. You see him harden up when you whine about him not touching you and it makes Sunghoon more aroused than ever before. He sees and hears your sheer desperation. It makes him want to take you on every inch of this house. 

Eventually, the two of you make your way inside the house and you nearly stumble when Sunghoon drops to his knees. His hands fumble with the strap of the ankle and you feel his fingers gently undoing the buckle. Every pass of his skin feels electrifying and so does looking down at him. He, who plays the role of an authoritative figure, is on his knees for you.

He’s still in control, but it makes you feel like you have all the power. You’re putty in Sunghoon’s hands and you’re starting to assume he’s the same when it comes to you. His surprisingly soft hands caress your leg with every touch that wakes up some pent up sexual frustration from the pit of your stomach. The desire is there and Sunghoon’s the first person to bring it out of you to this extent. 

Sunghoon puts your heels aside and kisses up your leg. He pushes the hem of your dress towards your upper thigh when he alternates legs until his face is right by your stomach. He kisses you there keeps his chin there to look up at you as if to admire you from where he kneels. It’s too much for you. It makes you want to suck the soul out of him and never return it. 

“You looked beautiful tonight,” Sunghoon says while maintaining eye contact with you. His hands come to cup the back of your legs, caressing your skin with his thumbs. You feel his warmth radiating off of him and he looks at you like he’s somewhere in between starving and satiated. 

You don’t say anything. You can’t say anything. Sunghoon has you stopped in your tracks that you feel like you’re frozen on the ground with nothing but the sound of your heart pounding in your ear drums. 

“You always look so good when you get dressed up. Did you dress up for me?” 

You blush at that. 

“I…”

“It’s okay if you did.” 

Sunghoon starts to feel up your body underneath your dress and touches the lace lingerie you have on underneath. He hums in satisfaction and looks up at you again.

“You’re so strong, you know that? It’s what I like about you the most. You don’t need me to tell you anything.” He snaps the band of your panties and you subtly jolt in your stance. Sunghoon rises from his spot on the floor, and you look up at him once he’s at his full height. 

“But I’m selfish. I like it when you dress up for me.”

“Yeah?” you whisper.

“Yeah. It makes me feel special.” 

“Special?” 

You never thought you could make him feel that way too. You’ve been so caught up in your own life and distracting yourself from falling too hard that you never considered how you affect him. His dark brown eyes reach the depths of your soul when he looks at you like this. 

“You don’t do things because anyone asks you to. You do it for you. You’re quitting your job as my assistant because there’s more to life than that. My brave girl. I like it when you dress up for me because I know you must feel the same way I do.” 

“I don’t want to leave you forever,” you quietly confess.

“I don’t want that either. You have me, remember? I’m not going anywhere. 

Sunghoon makes you feel all kinds of uncanny things. He makes you feel like the star of your own romantic movie. Every cliche is not meant with resistance, like you would with other men. Instead, Sunghoon says all the right things and you find yourself falling for every word. 

Except, there’s something about this that makes you believe it’s real. He’s not saying it to get into your pants and leave you in the morning. Everything about him fighting for your employment to taking you on a whimsical weekend vacation makes you think he feels just as deeply as you do. He’s never done this with any of his past flings and short lived relationships before. You’ve seen it firsthand when he blames work for keeping him busy instead of confronting whatever truth he’s hiding from. 

With you, Sunghoon seems to have let all of that go. 

The two of you kiss messily and stumble in the hallway until you’re in the bedroom. Sunghoon throws his jacket on the floor and doesn’t have time to think when you kneel before him and pull your dress down to expose your chest. He stutters and nearly trips, if not for the edge of the bed directly behind his knees, and takes his shirt off when you unbuckle his pants to fish out his cock. 

You don’t say anything before you put your mouth on him. No warning. Nothing but pure greed and lust mixed together. Sunghoon watches you lick him up and down with your warm tongue and groans at the feeling of your wet saliva smearing all over his dick. You don’t care that your cheeks are starting to dampen up. That makes him even harder.

You force his pants and boxers down when you fit him inside of your mouth. You’re not thinking at all. Sunghoon moans loudly when you take as much of him as you can in a single shot. His hands find the back of your head to balance himself while you hook your hands onto his legs to push more of him deeper in your small throat. Watching you pull your head back only to push right back in makes Sunghoon thrust his hips towards you. 

The gagging sound makes you wetter and it makes him quicken his pace. You breathe through your nose and focus on how good it feels to know you’re the one making him act like this. Every grunt, every moan, and every orgasm is because of you. 

Humming around his dick makes Sunghoon moan too. The two of you sound like a pornography film when you moan in tandem. The noises he makes are beyond anything you’ve ever heard before. Men before you have been too afraid to make any sounds during sex, but it’s like Sunghoon needs to let them out in order to feel true pleasure. His baritone voice makes you impossibly wet. 

He holds your head in place and starts to fuck your mouth without abandon. The tip hits the back of your throat and you gag until spit is falling all over the place, but you don’t care at all. Sunghoon’s pelvis touches your nose with every thrust and you arch your back and the pace he sets, sticking your ass out for him to see. He moans and widens his stance for a better angle and shoves his dick deeper in your mouth. 

“Oh, fuck,” he moans. “I don’t want to cum yet.”

Sunghoon pushes your head away and holds you by the hair with a tight grip. You chase his dick after it slips out, but he holds you in your place instead of letting you suck him back in. Sunghoon’s cock twitches when you whine. He pivots and forces you onto the bed before he lies on top of it with his chest facing the ceiling. 

When he pulls your dress down your body, he curses upon seeing the red lace adorning your body. Your chest is pushed in all the right places and nearly spills over the cups. He throws the fabric somewhere behind him and spreads your legs for him to see, and feeling like an object he’s inspecting turns you on so much that you’re sure he can spot the wet patch by now. 

Sunghoon doesn’t comment on it, too focused on taking in the way you look underneath him. His hands reach to grip your breasts and stomach, his finger tracing the line of the lace hem above where you need him the most. 

“Can’t believe you wore this for me.” Sunghoon bends his head down between your chest and kisses the spot there before turning to lick your left nipple over the cloth. “You’re so fucking sexy, you know that? Do you know how hard it is to keep myself in check every time I see you? It doesn’t matter if you’re wearing a trash bag. I get so fucking hard every time you walk into a room.”

As if to prove a point, Sunghoon pushes his cock over your covered pussy. He moans quietly and pulls the cups of your bra down to suck on your buds with a gentle hum, like he’s satisfied a craving of his. His tongue feels like some kind of gentle heaven and you can’t help but arch your back, which pushes your chest right into his face. 

You paw at his dick and grip it hard in your hand, attempting to tug on it at this angle. He chuckles against your chest when you struggle to grip all of him. 

“I love how eager you are,” he mutters against your chest before crawling on the bed himself. “You look so desperate trying to touch my dick. Is that what you want?” 

Sunghoon obliges. His hands grab your body and place you on top of him with your mouth pointed at his crotch. His cock looks so much bigger from this angle and you’re dripping right onto Sunghoon’s tongue. The feeling of the first pass makes you clench your hole and grip the base of his cock to balance yourself. 

He pulls your panties aside and moans against your pussy and licks you simultaneously. You feel his warm breath and the way his hands are prying your ass apart for him. Sunghoon groans when you push your lap onto his face, slapping your asscheek. 

You get the hint and wrap your lips around his dick, trying to fit all of it in your mouth. It’s slower than Sunghoon’s languid licks, but you must be doing a good job because you feel the vibration of his voice on your clit. It sends shivers up your spine and it makes your mouth water. 

Eventually, you find a steady pace as your hands squeeze Sunghoon’s balls between your fingers. You suck his tip like it’s a goddamn lollipop and you’re mouthing him like you have an oral fixation when it comes to him. He nearly bites you when you swallow his sack in your mouth and let your tongue lick through the seam. A swell of pride resides within you when you hear him. He’s so put together most of the time. It’s nice to feel him let his inhibitions go. 

You hollow your cheeks until it becomes a makeshift vacuum and suck on his dick as hard as you can. The moans coming from your throat make it hard for Sunghoon to stay still beneath you, but you welcome the intrusion every time his hips buck right into your mouth. Your saliva makes everything that much wetter and the sounds of his wettened cock and your slick core, egg both of you on. You’ve never felt so turned on sucking someone off before. 

Sunghoon’s tongue thrusts into you and you push back on his face, momentarily fearing that you might suffocate him if you continue. But his movements feel too good to care at this point. Sunghoon slurps up your juices and massages your ass while he eats you like a man on a mission, tongue rolling everywhere with no real method.

It makes you feel jealous that other women have experienced his magical mouth. You hate that he’s tasted women who aren’t you and you hate that you’ve had to watch him come home from a one night stand while pushing your own feelings below the surface. 

This motivates you to suck him with a death grip. Your mouth never relents and you force your head down until you’ve shoved all of him down your throat. Sunghoon moans against your core and you feel his grip on your ass tighten the more you constrict yourself around his cock. 

With a new sense of pride for making him moan the way he does, it propels you to use your head like that. You pull back and push down over and over again, letting his thick, mushroom head hit the back of your throat while your saliva spills everywhere. You refuse to take a break when Sunghoon’s suffocating himself on your pussy. 

One hand continues to touch his balls and aid his pleasure while the other grips his base to keep his dick right where you want him. God, you think. Where has this man been all my life? 

You cum when Sunghoon sucks on your clit. You push yourself off of him to arch your back, and grasp anything to make you feel sane. He moans when he tastes your orgasm and keeps licking while you process your high and come down from it. His cock is untouched and twitching with excitement upon tasting your release. 

“Need it,” Sunghoon nearly growls. 

He pushes your body off of him until the back of your head touches the plush pillows. He puts his mouth underneath your jaw and kisses you every place he can touch. Sunghoon drags his tongue all over and tastes the salty sheen of your sweat, grinning to himself. His canines graze your pulse point and you buck your hips until the underside of his wet cock is brushing against yours. 

“Do you want me as badly as I want you?” he whispers against your neck. 

“I need you more than you know.” 

“Fuck. I want all of you.” 

You spread your legs wide open and Sunghoon takes this opportunity to reach between your bodies to guide his tip to your entrance after pulling your panties to the side again. The push is slow and monstrous, unlike the times you’ve had sex with him before. He feels bigger somehow. More girth than earlier this morning. The stretch is deliciously painful and the sting burns no matter how wet you are. 

You both moan out into the open when he slips it in. Sunghoon looks like something devilish when he shuts his eyes while moaning. He’s so fucking hot that it’s not fair at all. His face becomes flushed and his forehead glistens with the sweat he’s built up eating you out. He buries himself to the hilt until you feel his warm sack on your ass. 

Your toes curl and you both feel the way your hole flutters around Sunghoon’s dick. His breaths are slow and deep. They make you more aroused, especially in the quiet of the night with nothing but the moonlight illumination through the uncovered windows. 

Sunghoon doesn’t snap his hips like you expect him to. He raises his hips and rolls them in slowly as if trying to savor every drag of your walls against his wet cock. He’s so slow that you hear your combined breaths trying to regain some kind of dignity and failing. The wet sounds add to your euphoria. Sunghoon starts to increase his speed, but not by much. 

“Perfect,” he mutters to himself. “So fucking perfect.” 

He braces both of his hands on either side of you. Sunghoon’s muscular bicep comes into view and makes you clench around him, to which he hissed and loses his composure, pushing his chest to yours. Your nipples squeeze under his skin. His body is so warm against you.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt like you lost your mind before this very moment. Sunghoon feels like he’s reached every untouched crevice in your body and it makes you feel like you're frozen in time. You don’t run from this pleasure either. You stay right where you are and tell yourself you deserve to have good sex and you deserve Sunghoon. 

You’ve enticed him. Sunghoon widens his own legs to better angle himself until he’s plunging his dick straight into you. The sheer force and depth at which he’s fucking you feels incredible. He doesn’t seem like he’s thinking at all. He acts like this is his primal instinct and he’s letting that version of himself takeover. 

Sunghoon groans with the sexual frustration he has within him and drills himself into you like he’s trying to make the two of you become one. His hips start to lose control the faster he thrusts into you, his cock warm and heavy even at the pace he’s setting. It’s all so hot. 

You think you might love him so much that walking away would shatter you. Your heart can’t help but choose him every time, and some part of you is desperate to know if Sunghoon feels the same way about you. 

Whimpers pour past your lips the faster Sunghoon fucks you. The gradual pace tells you he’s the absolute master of self indulgence and patience. You see elements of it when you see him in the office, and it’s always made you wonder just how patient he can be. Tonight, it seems like he’s trying to draw out your combined pleasure for as long as humanly possible. 

“Oh god,” Sunghoon chokes. He’s pounding into you with relentless force. “I’m cumming, shit shit shit.” 

He holds his breath, focusing on his orgasm. Sunghoon breaks you out of any thought that isn’t right here and right now. He arches his back so beautifully when he’s close and it drives his cock into you that much deeper. 

Sunghoon glances down at you before shutting his eyes and letting the first droplets of cum seep into you. You tighten your grip around his dick in preparation for what’s to come. Only, this time surprise you more than the time. 

“I love you.” 

He moans it without caring how loud he’s being. Sunghoon’s admission triggers your own orgasm and you thrash your body around while he chases your hips to settle you in your place beneath him. Your pussy clenched over and over again, collecting every drop from his leaning tip. Your shared orgasm leaks from the empty space between the two of you and you feel it drip between your legs. 

It’s like your heart is bursting with warmth and shock at the same time. Electricity flies off of your body and your mind runs so fast that you don’t know if you’ll ever come down from this particular high. Sunghoon finds your lips and kisses you with fervor and passion while he slows down his thrusts. He’s kissing you like he’s trying to make sure you’re real. He doesn’t pull away or pull out, even when he’s becoming soft. 

“You love me?” you ask.

“Yeah.” Sunghoon laughs incredulously and looks down at you. “Yes I fucking do.” 

“Sunghoon—”

“Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same, because I know you do. Your body tells me everything I need.”

“I didn’t think you’d feel the same.” Sunghoon soothes your lips over with a gentle kiss.

“I’ve loved you for a while now. I just started listening to my heart.” 

“That was so corny.” 

He grins against your mouth. “It was, wasn’t it?”

“Well…you’re lucky you’re cute.” 

“Are you not gonna say it back?” he teases. You look away and pretend to be confused. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Brat,” he says, pushing his half hard cock deeper in you to make you yelp. “Say you love me back, baby.” 

You don’t need that much convincing.

“I love you.

***

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[yunalinwrites]

saja boys' sixth member is... a girl ? - first time seeing you in girly clothes | saja boys x reader

series summary: in this story, you are pretending to be a boy. not just any boy--a saja boy. but what will you do when not even your fellow members--the ones you now share a dorm with--can find out you're actually a girl? stay tuned for more!! (heavily based on you're beautiful kdrama + ouran high school host club)

scene summary: after having always seen you a boy, seeing you in your true form has them feeling some type of way… (lots of possessiveness + a teensy weensy bit of suggestiveness) / based on this req

It was a hot summer midnight in the Saja Boys’ dorm and you couldn't sleep. Between the faulty AC and the release of your guys’ new album coming soon, you found yourself restlessly tossing and turning.

At this point, you'd already come clean to the boys about how you're actually a girl, so you figured it wouldn't hurt to start wearing your more feminine pajamas. After all, if you had to constantly be playing the part of a boy during the day, you could at least stay in touch with your feminine side during the night. Although, it didn't occur to you that none of your roommates had actually seen you in your true form…

💪 Abs caught you on your way out of the convenience store. You had a craving for rice balls, so you threw on a cropped tank top and pajama pants and ran to the nearest corner store. It seems like you weren't the only one, though; just before you reached the exit–a bag-ful of goodies in your hand–the doors slid open with a chime.

“Abby?”

In front of you was none other than your pink-haired roommate, also wearing pajama pants and slides. On top of that–though he wasn't matching crop tops with you today–he had on a Saja Boys hoodie that somehow did little to conceal his muscles.

“Y/N?” he said.

“Abby!” you exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah, I was on a jog and I got thirsty.” He shoved his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie which--unbeknownst to you–was his “lying tic”. What actually happened is that he noticed you sneaking out late and, in order to make sure you were safe, followed you all the way here.

It was dark out, though, so he hadn't really seen you in the light. Until now, where the store’s flickering fluorescent light was shining on you.

To him, it was a beam from the heavens. You weren't wearing a binder--or a bra for that matter--to conceal your chest, and the crop top put the rest of your figure on display. And even though your face wasn't much different in the same sense, your outfit gave it a completely new context that he couldn't look in the eye without blood rushing to his cheeks… and elsewhere…

“You were on a jog at midnight…?” you questioned.

“Uh--yeah. I, uh… do midnight jogs. Along with my morning jogs. And also… afternoon jogs.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, not-so-subtly flexing with a cross of his arms.

You giggle. “Ah, I see. So that's your secret to a six pack?” With his hands out of his hoodie pocket, you take the opportunity to poke playfully at his abs.

At that, his face turns even pinker than his hair.

“Don't worry, I won't tell anyone,” you promise with a wink, bringing your pointer finger to your mouth in a shushing motion.

He doesn't say anything--which you don't realize is because he's still too occupied with taking you all in–so you take it as your cue to leave. 

“I should probably go now,” you say. “Make sure you stay hydrated on your… midnight jog…”

“Wait–” he objects, grabbing your wrist just as you make it through the sliding doors. He looks you in the eye with a serious gaze, but the words struggle to come out.

For a second, neither of you make a move, blinking at each other in silence. Before either of you can come up with something to say, you’re suddenly distracted by the feeling of something cold hitting your shoulder. Using it as an escape from his heated gaze, you take your eyes off of him. Looking up to the sky, you hold your palm out to the falling water droplets.

Suddenly, you feel your other hand being pulled. Before you know it, you're moving away from the rain and your face is colliding with his warm chest, his scent filling your nostrils.

“You should've told me you were going out,” he murmurs, his chest rumbling beneath your burning cheeks.

Your heart is pounding out of your chest. Given his stature as an athlete, you expect his heartbeat to be slower. But, what you hear and feel beneath your ear seems to be thumping synchronously with yours–maybe even more rapid.

“Everyone was asleep…” you manage to respond, a little muffled as you try not to be obvious about the way you're burying yourself into him.

He, on the other hand, doesn't care about being conspicuous. He hugs you a little tighter. “Tell me next time.”

You bite your cheek, now letting yourself snuggle into him without shame. “Okay,” is all you can get yourself to whisper.

You stay like that for a little longer--which is a little strange to the cashier--but you don't care. Even if you wanted to move, the firm embrace he has around the small of your back wouldn't allow it. Eventually, though, you work up a bit more courage to pull back enough to look up at him and ask something.

“Hey, Abby… what’s in your pocket?” you ask with wide eyes. This whole time, you had been feeling something hard, long, and cylindrical in between the two of you.

“Oh,” he says. He takes an arm off of your back to slide it out. “You know, you should at least check the weather before you go out.”

It's a Saja Boys branded umbrella. What did you think it was?

He slowly lets go of you, grabbing your shopping bag and stepping into the outdoors to open the umbrella. Then, he looks back at you expectantly.

You smile. “Thank you,” you say, catching up with him.

As you begin to walk back in the direction of the dorm, you can't help but form another question: “Can I ask you something?”

He swallows nervously. “What is it?”

“If you knew it was going to rain… why did you go out on your ‘midnight jog’?” you ask.

He just smirks, looking down at you. 

“That's my secret.”

💐 Romance had caught you on your way to the bathroom. You had stayed up watching make-up tutorials all night, which made you miss doing a proper face. You still wore makeup for performances and shoots and such, but it was mostly just contour and eyebrow pomade to make you look more manly. So, you decided to do a little pre-shower look before you went to bed.

It felt a little weird to get dolled up with no destination, but screw it. You even put on a cute little nightgown to match. You never thought you'd describe glitter eyeshadow and tinted lip gloss as “refreshing,” but it really did feel nice to look like a girl again. Who knew you would miss eyeliner and mascara so much?

Sitting at your vanity, you yawned with a stretch, already feeling your falsies come off--now that was something you didn't miss. So, you got up and began to tip-toe towards the bathroom.

You didn't expect anyone else to be up at this hour, so it scared you half to death when you saw a familiar head of pink hair emerge from the shared bathroom.

“Y/N?”

There shouldn't have been anything scary about your roommate in a T-Shirt and sweatpants, but you still had to cup your hand over your mouth to stop a scream from forming. Instinctively, you pull it back when you feel something sticky; the lip gloss formed a kiss mark on your palm. You feel your cheeks burn, suddenly realizing what you look like right now.

“Are you wearing makeup?” Romance asked curiously.

You stare down at your bunny slippers. “Um… yeah…” you admit sheepishly.

The nightgown itself was revealing enough, but somehow covering your face like this made you feel even more exposed. You prayed he wasn't seeing too clearly given that all the lights in the house were off.

Before you can take a step back, he switches on the bathroom light and grabs your wrist. 

“Come to the light so I can see you,” he tells you calmly, the dim glow coming through the doorway illuminating his soft smile.

Reluctantly, you step forward as he pulls you into the bathroom. Taking your chin in his hand and tilting your face side to side, he observes you carefully.

“Pretty,” he comments. He steps back, taking in the sight of all of you. His eyes trace the lace adorning your collarbone. The heat of his stare makes your cheeks flush bright pink--no product needed. “You should wear lip gloss more often.”

You bite your lip again. “Oh, I…” You laugh nervously. “You know I can't.”

“You can do it for our next concept,” he suggested, referring to the softer direction the Saja Boys were going to take for your next album. “Tell the makeup artists.”

“Or,” he began, grabbing your chin and pulling your face impossibly closer to his, brushing his thumb over your lips. “You can borrow some from me.”

He has you pinned against the sink, your back against the counter. You stare up at him through your lashes, fluttering them innocently… until one of them falls off. 

“I-I should probably take this off now…” you stutter.

You quickly turn around to face the mirror, trying not to look at him in your reflection. You try to keep your gaze downward, on the sink as you reach for your makeup wipes. But, as you do, you feel a hand instead of the plastic packaging.

He picks up the package and peels it open, the crinkling sound the only thing breaking the thick silence between you.

“Let me do it,” he instructs gently, grabbing your waist and spinning you around to face him. “Sit on the counter.”

You blink at him, the other eyelash falling off. “Oh… Um… Okay…”

You prop yourself up on the counter and allow him to slot himself between your legs. With the wipe in one hand, he tenderly holds your face in place with the other and begins to remove your makeup.

“Am I being too harsh?” he asks.

“N-no, that's ok…”

You sit in silence, staring at the floor and doing your best to focus on the cooling sensation. Every once in a while you look up, and each time he never fails to lock eyes with you. You hope he can't feel your face getting warmer through the wipe.  

“What I said earlier…” he starts, slowing down over your lips. “You look good in any makeup.”

He tosses the wipe in the nearby wastebasket and returns, placing his palms on either side of you on the counter and leaning towards you. His gaze drops to your lips for a split second, and then back up to your eyes.

“Without it, too.”

He leans even closer, and once again, your faces are inches apart. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, the warmth of his breath. He seems to only be getting closer and closer so you let your eyes drift shut, leaning forward like its second nature, and then–

You feel something fuzzy slip over your head. You open your eyes. Around your neck is a fluffy pink headband with two red plush hearts on it like animal ears. He pushes it up, onto your head, tucking stray hairs behind his ear.

He puts on one of his own–just like yours but with inverted colors–and reaches behind you again.

“Should we do aloe?” he asks, re-emerging with two kinds of sheet masks: one green, and the other pink. “Or rose?”

You take a second to process what just happened. “Um… rose…”

He smiles. “Good choice.”

He rips the top of one of the packages and places it delicately on your face. Then, he does the same for himself, moving away from you to use the mirror.

You watch him beside you. Even through the glistening pink mask, you're desperate to find his eyes. As the two of you wait for the serums to settle into your skin, you don’t realize how hard you’re staring.

“Do I look funny?” he jokes when he catches your gaze.

For a second you take your mind off your pounding heart to laugh. “Y-yeah, a little.”

He chuckles, finding his way back between your legs. After discarding his mask, he slowly peels off yours, inch by inch, as if he’s received a present so precious he wants to cherish its unwrapping.

When he finally sees your face, bare in its truest form, he does all that he can to commit the image to memory. It’s funny, this is probably the part of you that he saw the most–whether it be in recording studios or dance rehearsals or songwriting sessions, you never had so much as a dab of powder on your nose. But somehow, you feel like he’s seeing you for the very first time, and he’s savoring it like it’s the last.

You feel yourself heating up again, so you try to break the silence. “Do… I look funny?” you ask, eyes darting back and forth between his.

He shakes his head with the lightest of laughs.

“You look beautiful.”

🍼 You knew Baby was awake--you could hear him tapping away intensely on his gaming keyboard from your room as you changed into your cami and shorts. He seemed very engrossed in whatever he was playing, shouting heated insults into the mic of his headset as you passed by his room. So, as you were standing in front of the fridge trying to enjoy the cold air wafting over you, it scared you half to death when you felt your tank top strap snap against your back.

You shriek and whip around.

“Hey,” he says casually, hooking the strap under his finger again and letting it smack your collarbone. “What’s up?”

“‘Hey’ yourself,” you mutter, rubbing the spot. “I'm up because someone can't keep it down when he's playing ranked.”

You turn back around to the fridge with a huff, but you notice that the last can of Saja Soda Pop™ is gone. “Hey! How did you–”

“Quick hands.”

You crane your neck to glare at him, but your eyes instinctively drop downwards at the sight of skin. He’s using the hem of his T-Shirt to clean off the top of the can, revealing his lower abdomen. Through his open zip up and beneath the waistband of his pajama pants, you can see the brand name of his boxers.

Trying to ignore the sight, you force your eyes back to his face and lunge towards him, but he’s two steps ahead, and about half a foot above you. He looks down at you with a smug expression as he holds it up, out of your reach. You get on your tippy toes and reach towards it, your chest beginning to press on his.

“Ugh!” You retreat and cross your arms, giving up with a pout. He cracks it open and throws it back without shame. One hand gives you the finger, and in the other, you see his stupid face plastered on the bright pink can: “Baby's Blue Raspberry”.

“Whatever… “ you mumble, attempting not to focus on the way his Adam's apple bobs with every gulp. “Romance's flavor is better anyway. ‘Lychee Love Potion’ outdoes yours by a longshot.”

He finishes drinking with a swallow and a deep exhale, his expression growing uncharacteristically serious. He looks you dead in the eye, unamused, as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He keeps that eye contact as, without a word, he holds the can to your lips.

Before you can protest, he tilts it, forcing you to drink as you stare up at him, wide eyed. When the can empties, he pulls it back and uses his thumb to wipe the corner of your lips.

He leaves you dumbfounded as he goes to toss the can in the recycling.

As he makes his way back, you're finally about to stutter something out–until you're interrupted by his scent suddenly overwhelming you.

“Don't dress like this around the house,” he instructs, draping his hoodie around your shoulders. “‘Specially not around Romance.”

Your jaw hangs open as he then takes his phone out of his pant pocket and begins heading out of the kitchen. You watch his back in awe as he types away on it, acting as if nothing happened.

He's already halfway up the stairs by the time you shake yourself out of it and call after him.

“It's hot out, you know…” you protest weakly, contradicting the way you're pulling the hoodie around yourself. You try to put some bite into your voice. “I'm gonna, like, die of a heat stroke and it'll be all your fault.”

He looks down at you again from above the stair railing, wearing that stupid smug face again.

“There's a fan in my room,” he states matter-of-factly, resuming his walk up the stairs.

“When you come return my hoodie,” he starts, “you can wear whatever you want in there.”

❓ Mystery’s always had a strong nose. His sight is constantly dampened by his signature hairstyle, and as a result, his other senses have become strengthened. So, the chemical scent was particularly unpleasant to him--enough so to get out of bed to investigate.

Following the harsh odor through the hallway, he found himself in front of your bedroom door. The main light wasn’t on, but enough of a glow seeped through the cracks of the closed door to indicate you were awake; a lamp, maybe. Wanting to confirm this theory, he raised his knuckle just under the pastel sticky note with your charming handwriting and followed its instructions: “Please knock! - Y/N”

He stepped back, anticipating a greeting. But, even after a few minutes, the only response that would break the silence was the occasional clink of glass from behind the door. 

Now, he knew it was rude to come in. Especially at this hour, when you certainly weren’t expecting anyone, he considered. He also considered that you might not be decent. But, his curiosity got the best of him, and he figured he did technically follow the instructions the note had given him. So, he reached for the door handle.

He was met with the sight of you sitting criss-cross applesauce on your desk chair in an off-the-shouldee T-Shirt and shorts, elbows planted on the table, hands tasked with something he couldn't quite make out; the only lighting was a desk lamp–his theory was correct. What he could make out, though, was the thumping of the bass from your headphones. You hadn't noticed him yet, so he approached you, watching closely over your shoulder.

Your hands were trembling, your dominant one shaking a nail polish brush over the thumb of the other. You had your tongue peeking out and one eye shut, trying your hardest to guide the bristles above your cuticle.

Mystery took a small step back. So, that’s what it was. His one late night curiosity had been solved, and he should’ve been satisfied enough to go back to bed. But, in its place formed another: how long would it take you to notice him?

It looked like you had managed to make a shoddy swipe over your nail bed, which allowed you to start breathing again. Taking that as his window to approach you, he took a slow and quiet step forward. It was only when you went to dip the brush back into the bottle that you caught him out of the corner of your eye. 

Well, it didn't register as him at first. It seems late night delirium, dim lighting, and Mystery’s hairstyle are not a good combination.

“Ah!” 

You knock over the polish bottle as you flinch.

“Shit…” you mutter, frantically setting it right back up. You let out a sigh of relief--you caught it before it was able to spill. 

After returning the brush to the bottle, you move to take your headphones off, but--out of consideration for your wet nails--it isn't easy to do with just your palms. You struggle, the plastic slipping against your sweat, until you feel another set of hands cover yours. They're warm and careful as they move your hands out of the way, and still equally as gentle when they remove your headphones and place them on the desk.

You bit your lip as he stepped away to pick up an ottoman from the opposite corner of the room and set it beside you. The seat is much shorter than yours, but given his usually impressive height, it only lowers him to eye-level with you. Perfectly aligned with the light emanating from your desk lamp, he is no longer whatever apparition or monster you were imagining before; his features are softer than ever as you’re now able to see his smile more closely than ever before.

He also takes advantage of this vicinity. Whatever hairs were messed up by your headphones he strokes back into place. Tucking the strays behind your ear, he reaches over you and grabs a hair clip from the flower-shaped dish on your desk. He takes the bow he picked out in both hands and tilts it back and forth in the light. Smiling in satisfaction, he has to control his excitement as he pins your bangs back.

All you can do is stare at him in awe, your lips parted.

“Mystery…” you whisper.

He waves back at you, as if to say, “That's me.”

“Why are you here? Did I wake you?” you ask worriedly.

He points to the nail polish, and then to his nose.

“Oh… I'm sorry…” You trail off sheepishly. You reach to scratch the back of your neck out of nervousness but quickly retract your hand, remembering the state it's in.

He just shakes his head with a smile. “It's okay.”

He holds his hand out to you. You blink at him in confusion.

“Give me your hand,” he says, softly but aloud nonetheless.

“O-oh,” you stutter, hesitantly doing as he says.

Just like with the bow, he tilts your hand back and forth and smiles to himself. The color you had chosen was a translucent pink; as the bottle advertised, “Your nails but better!™”

Wearing nail polish was nothing out of the ordinary for all of you--so much so that the marketing team had released your own line of “Saja Sparkling Nail Lacquer™” for the “Lovely lion claws™” of “the Pride™” . Right now, in fact, Mystery had on his very own shade of magenta, courtesy of the cosmetics team's nail tech.

He'd seen much more elaborate designs--and much neater designs--done on his own fingertips. So, on paper, he shouldn't be impressed by the shaky brushstrokes of a simple clear pink. But on your hand--on the soft hand he was holding and never wanted to let go–there was something endearing. It wasn't something you’d get at a salon--it was more like the result of a girl's sleepover or hours at a vanity before a date. That image in his mind alone meant more to him than all the years that lady had spent at beauty school.

Though he himself had no such certifications either, he reached for the cap of the nail polish bottle. Bringing your hand closer to him, he began to sweep the brush over each nail.

You watched in awe as, with all ten fingers, he dipped the brush in the liquid and smoothed it over your fingers meticulously, holding your hand close to his face. With every replenishing of the brush, he would back up a bit, but when he resumed painting, you could feel his breath on your knuckles.

You feel it even harder after he finishes, blowing gently on your nails. It probably isn’t doing much to dry them given how hot and humid it’s been lately, but, contrary to the cool air he lets out, it doesn’t fail to make your cheeks burn.

With a third, final exhalation, he retracts his hold. Without realizing it, you leave your hand hanging in the air, right where he’d left it. Your body seemed to know what your mind didn’t have the courage to say: you weren’t ready for him to go yet.

But then, just as quick as his touch had left, it returned as he slid his palm under yours and pushed it so your hands were upright, like a high-five. He couldn’t help but breathe out of his nose a brief chuckle at how your fingertips came up a full joint shorter than his.

You hoped he couldn’t feel the way you were trembling right now–prayed that he wasn’t grossed out by how clammy your hands were getting. But he didn’t seem to care, and you didn’t have any thoughts left to think, when, slowly, he curled his fingers until his hand engulfed yours.

You bit your lip. You could feel his pulse under your touch, calm and steady, and you were sure he could feel yours thumping at twice the pace. But, despite your nervousness, you let yourself copy him, slowly lowering your fingertips until they slotted perfectly in between his knuckles.

On the back of your hand, you saw his beautiful pianist-like fingers resting. His flawless manicure wasn’t even a millimeter overgrown–filed unfathomably symmetrical, cuticles pushed back out of sight, and surface perfectly glossy, the light reflecting without obstruction. Meanwhile, on the back of his hand, he saw that, even with his and your best efforts, there were stray splotches of pigment here and there on your skin. In some places–where the light hit your nail beds wrong–there were unblended brushstrokes.

There was no competition. It was clear which one he preferred.

He squeezed your hand playfully. “Do mine next time.”

✨ “Jinu… Jinu, wake up. You shouldn’t fall asleep on the couch, you old man.”

With his arm over the back of the couch and his knees spread open, he continued to snore–a sound so loud it rendered the TV in front of him inaudible. You sigh, wondering how Derpy and Susie were able to stay snuggled up against him on that throw pillow. Really, with the drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth, it was comical how un-Saja-like this was–save for the lion’s roar that escaped him with every exhale.

You shake his shoulder. “C’mon, Jinu. I don’t want to hear about your back problems in the morning.”

“Hrrrgghh, shhhh… Mmm… Huh… Huh…?”

You watch as he goes from snoring to murmuring to mumbling and then… shrieking.

“Ahh! Intruder! Intruder! Derpy, there’s an intruder!”

Desperately, he yanks on the poor tiger’s blue fur. Derpy wakes up, but doesn’t share the same urgency. He recognizes your scent, so he opens his glowing eyes halfway only to side-glare at Jinu before drifting back to sleep.

“Y/N…?” he finally realizes.

You don’t respond. You just sigh and cross your arms. Unintentionally, you push your breasts up a bit as you do. You don’t notice but, as he continues to register what he’s looking at, he definitely does.

“Wh… what are you wearing…” he trails off.

Quickly, he darts his eyes somewhere else–anywhere else. Your satin button up and shorts set isn’t really by any means indecent, but he feels his cheeks get hotter with guilt for every second he stares. He turns his face away, but let's face it–at any angle, he’s red as an apple. 

“What? Four hundred years and you haven’t seen a PJ set?” you retort. 

You put your hands on your hips and weight on one leg, striking a sassy pose. “You might be, like, a gajillion years old, but you’re not my dad. I’ll wear what I like, especially when it’s hot.”

“R-right,” he agrees, not realizing you were referring to the weather.

“What are you watching, anyway?” you ask, turning around to the screen. “Oh, wait! I know this show. This is a good episode…”

You start going on about characters… or something–he feels bad for not listening, he really does, but he can’t help it. He hasn’t the slightest clue of what you’re talking about; he fell asleep in the first ten minutes of watching. It’s an easy fix; if he really wanted to, he could look at the screen and find enough context clues to put together a response. But then, he’d have to take his eyes off the real show in front of him.

The dim glow of the TV lights you up from behind like you’re an angel greeting him at the gates of heaven–something he thought he’d never see. He follows the glow around the edge of your silhouette, slowing down from the hem of your shorts to your waistband. He’s really not trying to make it pervy, he swears, but he still burns with shame–though, the feeling is somehow different than the sharp purple patterns Gwi-Ma sends through him; it has quite the pleasant side to it.

When his eyes reach the back of your head, he decides that’s the most respectful place he can rest them. It’s not any less of a sight than the rest of you–your hair has grown out a bit ever since your DIY pixie cut, enough so for you to tie the teeniest little ponytail to try and beat the heat. As it sprouts from the colorful little scrunchie, it reminds him of a pointed paintbrush. But in this form, he thinks, you should be a framed painting.

He’s snapped out of his trance when he feels the weight of the couch shift; Derpy crawls off the couch with Susie on his back, meowing a farewell.

“Get a room,” he seems to say.

Frantically, before you’re able to turn around, Jinu grabs the cushion they were on and holds it over his lap.

“Good night, Derpy. Good night, Susie,” you say with a wave. You turn back to the couch, making eye contact with Jinu.

“Sorry. I’m blocking your view, huh?” You apologize nervously, your eyes taking refuge on the empty spot Derpy left. You plop down next to Jinu, his arm still around the back of the couch behind you. But while you keep your eyes on the screen, he keeps his eyes on you.

“Wow… what a beautiful dress,” you comment, pointing at the wedding scene before you. “I wish I could wear something like that…

“Me too,” Jinu whispers, watching the way your eyes light up when you see it, lined by lashes he never realized were so long.

He flinches backwards a bit when you turn to him with a smirk. “I don’t think they make those in your size,” you joke. “Not if you’re eating enough for you and Derpy and Susie,” you say, gesturing to the empty family-sized bag of Saja’s Mild Spicy Shrimp Chips™.

“Th-that’s not what I–” he stutters, hoping you didn’t catch onto his stare. “Ugh, just shut up and watch.”

He feels you vibrate through your touching knees and shoulders as you laugh. “Okay, okay,” you surrender.

The both of you return your gazes to the screen. Jinu has to employ every muscle and nerve in his body to keep his head facing straight ahead and his mind on the plot. But a few minutes later, just as he thinks he’s able to squeeze out that last thought of the flowy satin draping over you, his aforementioned nerves detect an unexpected weight and warmth on his shoulder.

He looks down and finds your cheek smushed up against his shoulder; his ears–their tips now pink–pick up the most hushed of snores drifting from your plush lips. He thanks the stars above that your eyes are shut–putting your soft lashes on full display now–because now you can’t see how he’s blushing even harder than before.

He instinctively lifts the arm resting behind you, but just before it reaches your shoulder to shake you awake, he stops it above your head. It’s as if his muscles have a mind of their own–he tells himself–as his hand slowly lowers to your hair and begins to stroke it gently.

He immediately tenses up when he feels you stir, freaking out briefly until you snuggle closer to his chest. He lets out a deep breath of relief, but takes in a few more; he needs to slow down his pounding heartbeat right now, or else you might wake up, he worries.

When it’s as steady as he can get it, he lets his lungs go on autopilot. But, even so, he’s suddenly very aware of his body. He knows he’s not a lion, and he knows he’s not a tiger or bird. But, tonight, he doesn’t feel like a demon. Somehow, he feels strangely human. And he’s suddenly aware that he’s a man, and you’re a woman. And you are much smaller than him.

He takes his hand off of your head for a moment to pull slightly at the back collar of your shirt. Before the satin slips between his fingers, he’s able to catch the size on the label.

He’s an old man, as you like to tease him, so he’ll probably forget by the time he wakes up. But still, he leans his head on you and lets his eyes drift shut without a worry.

He’ll remember, he promises–and he hopes you can somehow hear that promise telepathically when his head meets yours.

He’ll remember when he buys you that dress.

***

erm idk how to feel cuz i kinda like what i wrote but i also somehow feel like i didnt go in the right direction in terms of whats expected from the prompt?? idk also sorry jinu's and baby's aren't the most developed i just wanted to get this out cuz it was taking so longggg

jinu is my fav but i struggle to write him :(

but anyways im so excited this was my first req ever so ty ty ty anon i luv u guys im gonna try to work on the other req i have asap but plz b patient w me :') dont b afraid to send in more req tho tee hee

masterlist

tags (open ^o^): @hornehlittleweeblet2 @foxta1l @prettylittlelavvy @ch1cky-093 @thoughtsfrom1985 @feelya @doodle-with-rhy @fries11 @katzline @iivantablackii

[anendoandfriendo]

Lmao, look, all of this is great but we can't help but be bitter about this because we ALSO have an example of when said boards don't actually care about ethics, and it's called the fact applied behavioral analysis/autistic conversion therapy still exists and doesn't have a universal ban.

Seriously, look at anything by Michelle Dawson, especially her "The Misbehavior of Behaviorists" paper.

Autistic people have been screaming about how bad things are gonna get (and how bad they are) for a few years if not at least a decade. We've been screaming that the abled neurotypicals do not CARE about ethics by a longshot, only how capitalism can benefit from our genocide as autistic people. And how the pro-vaccine and pro-autistic fight have heavy overlap and such.

So...we also can't help but feel a little bitter here. As aba victims/survivors we find it EXTREMELY important to state that we should not pretend unethical shit doesn't happen just because there is an ethics board, and in fact sometimes the ethics board okays that bad shit. Such as anything pro-ABA "therapy"/autistic conversion.

Plus this combined with RFK Junior being extremely anti-autistic and pro-genocide (and we are no longer being nice — when it comes to autism, combined with ABA being a thing and the way autism speaks talks about us, etc., we WILL start using the word genocide the way we should have back in 2018 and such) when it comes to autistics.

We agree RFK Jr. is full of shit but let's ignore all of that, we believe otherwise we would have widespread condemnation of ABA (applied behavioral analysis) and being a BCBA would be flat out illegal and you'd be banned from practicing Healthcare ever again for your whole lifetime. 😓

TLDR: people are already being killed. Constantly. The fight for vaccines and the fight for autistic people to exist have heavy overlap. It feel wrong to ignore that ioo.

Anyways sorry if this isn't extremely cohesive or is a bit repetitive, we're kind of spitballing on some problems we see here w/ the tumblr app while we fuck with something on our laptop. -_-

I was trying to think of a way to explain why this is stupid and also ghoulish. I think I came up with something.

Imagine you are an engineer designing body armor. You are tasked with making sure the body armor can stop 10 different types of bullets. In your first attempt, you create body armor that stops 6 of the 10 bullets. You start selling those because that's pretty good protection. You can save some lives while you continue to improve things.

You already know how to stop 6 bullets, but you really want to figure out how to stop the last 4. So you do exactly what you did before, but add a few more layers of Kevlar and a steel plate.

Your boss, RFK Jr., says he wants a test of the new and improved body armor. But he says you have to give one test subject the real thing and the other test subject fake body armor that does nothing.

And you're like, "Hey, can I at least give them the body armor that stops 6 bullets? We already know that gives some protection. We only need to compare the new armor to what we already accomplished."

And RFK says, "No, please shoot a person dead. It's science."

[tittykittyqt]

ᰔ—>just bf!Sukuna and your new obsession with calico critters !

Sukuna slowly started to notice the little critters around the apartment. He would be preparing dinner and suddenly see a baby deer right next to his favorite mug. These little shits were everywhere—he even saw one in the glove compartment in his car! He knew about your obsession with the weird naked babies and the green glow in the dark thingies—but these animals just keep popping up in the house. He was starting to think yuji is the one doing it, he’s a kid so it’s probably just him right?

It was 8am and sukuna slowly opened his eyes—groaning as he awakens from the deep slumber. Reaching down to pull the blanket off, he felt something in his pants poking him. No not his dick—a small bunny calico critter looking at him with its dumbass beady eyes.”Babe. what the fuck is this?!”— picking it up like it’s some disgusting bug and shoving it in your face. Rubbing your eyes to get a clear view of what’s happening—all you can see is your grumpy boyfriend with a cute pout on his face, holding one of your favorite critters.

“oh hehe it’s one of my calico critters! it’s cute isn’t it?” . he looks at you with a dumb expression on his face—no way you think these fuckass critters are cute. “you’re the one putting these around the house?!”, huffing and puffing as he places the bunny on his night stand. “Yeah duh, who else would it be?”— he sighs as he stares at the little bunny, it is kinda cute..reminds him of you.

12pm, you begged sukuna to go to the bookstore to look at more calico critters—he thought it was pointless, whats the point of going to a bookstore if you’re not gonna buy a book? “oooh ! look at this one baby,It’s a hamburger stand!”—nodding and giving “mhm” every time you show him one of the animal families and play sets. Unfortunately the two of you were running on a short amount of time, sukuna has to drop off his car to get it fixed. “Hey brat, we gotta get going—don’t want a fucked up car, do we?”. You pout as you stare at the hamburger stand set that you really want. Looking up at him hoping that he senses that you really want it—and of course he notices. He groans as he takes the box and places it back on the shelf, “babe we really gotta hurry up and get the fuck out of here, let’s go—you already got enough of those weird shits”.

For the entire day you had this sad look on your face, you really wanted that damn hamburger stand. Sukuna notices your sulking and secretly leaves the house—he’s going back to that bookstore. Arriving and searching for that set, a little kid was holding it and coughing—spreading his germs all over the set. Sukuna knew what he had to do, “hey excuse me dirty brat”—quickly snatching the box and speed walking towards the checkout. As he walks he can hear the little kid saying— “mommy he took the toy!” bawling his eyes out with snot coming out of his nose. Sukuna disinfected the box after he paid of course.

Returning back home, he approaches you from behind—wrapping one of his arms around your waist and placing his head on top of yours. “what do you need kuna?”, doing the dishes while yearning for that cute set—oh it was so adorbs. His other arm coming out behind his back as he places the set in front of you, kissing your cheek and saying— “got the stupid ass set for ya, had to snatch it from some kid but I still got it”.

The man certainly did not like the critters but it was certain that he would do anything for you. Even stealing from a kid.

a/n: I have a calico collection and I just thought putting two of my favs together in a drabble would be cute ☹️ creds to whoever made the kuna art..could not find the artist. sorry for the writers block btw!

[daisies-and-domming]

Not so Shy Anymore, Huh? (NSFW)

Summary: Your boyfriend is bold - and no matter how long you’ve been with him, you can’t seem to stop the warm flush of your cheeks when he compliments you so easily. He’s used to you being shy, but one day you reach your breaking point. He wants to be bold? You can be bold, too!

Warnings: swearing, dom!reader, reader is (usually) easily fluster, petnames (Gojo calls you baby, Geto calls you my love, Sukuna calls you petal), p in an undefined hole (Gojo, Geto), praise kink (Sukuna), f!receiving oral (Sukuna)

Features Gojo, Geto, Sukuna

Thank you to the lovely @glassofapplejuicee for beta reading <3

Let me know if you think I missed anything!!

All characters are over 18 :)

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This was a WIP that I never finished...I had a portion for Toji and Ino in the works, but I just haven't had time to get around to it, and unless y'all REALLY want their parts, I probably never will. Still, I hope you enjoy <3 As always, feel free to message me if you have any requests.

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Gojo Satoru - Eyes on Me!

“Did I tell you how stunning you look tonight? Because if I haven’t, I’d like to get something off my chest - I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you since you came downstairs, baby.”

“Satoru!” You gasp, feeling heat rush to your cheeks.

You hated how your boyfriend could waltz into the room and just say whatever was on his mind. His unbelievable self-confidence was ruinous - how were you meant to combat the constant barrage of sweet words he throws your way? You feel bad for Nanami, who just rolls his eyes and abandons your conversation, opting to go get a drink in the kitchen. 

He was smart enough to know that you ceased to properly function when your silver-tongued boyfriend was around. In his defense, he couldn't help it, not when your reactions were so precious. He loved the way you froze up, and how your mouth would open and close without a word coming out. He revelled in the way your skin was warm to the touch when he spoke so brazenly, in how you couldn’t even look him in the eye afterwards.

“Yes, baby?” He questioned, grinning at the bashful look on your face. 

“Sorry, was that too much?”

“You’re not sorry at all!” you start with a groan, dragging a hand down your face, “Have you no shame, Satoru? You scared off Nanami!”

“Good,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. 

“Then I get to have my beautiful baby aaaaall to myself. Sucks that we’re out here, or I’d show you just how beautiful I think you are,” he added with a whisper.

He thumbs at the hem of your shirt, but you’re so done with his bullshit. You hate how it barely took anything to get you all hot in the face, and you hate how much he clearly enjoys it. He was a charmer and he knew it, but it didn’t mean he could belittle you like this. Sometimes it made you feel small, like you couldn’t live up to the version of you that he had in his head. 

You spin around, something feral glinting in your eyes. “Let’s go upstairs, then. You can show me just how beautiful you think I am.”

The frantic blink blink blink of his eyes would almost be comical if you weren’t so determined to remind him that you could be flashy and brazen. Two could play this game, after all.

“O-okay!” He just about stumbled over himself as he followed you upstairs. 

You apologize in your head to whoever owns this house - Yaga? - because their spare room was about to look like a crime scene when you were done with him. 

A house party usually means someone stumbling upstairs, drunk, and getting laid, but you were as sober as could be. This was deliberate - you were going to remind Gojo that even his title as “strongest” couldn’t save him from you.

You slip into the first empty room you can find and shove him in first, gently clicking the lock behind you. It’s dark, but you can make out the outline of a neatly made bed and a barren nightstand. You pray to every god imaginable that this room is a guest room as Gojo crowds you against the door, eyes aglow.

“Fuck, I love when you’re assertive like that, sweet cheeks,” he says, stealing a quick kiss between words. 

“Let’s get you undressed, hm?”

“Off, Toru,” you say, wiggling your way out from between him and the door. 

“You strip and get on the bed. Let me at least get the lights, please? Not all of us have six eyes to guide us.”

There it is again - that owlish blink - but he obeys without hesitation, making his way towards the bed. He leaves a trail of clothes in his wake as you flick on the lights, and you let yourself admire the rippling muscles in his back before you start to derobe yourself. By the time you’re done taking off your clothes, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you curiously. 

You two certainly weren’t vanilla in bed by any means, but he had always been the one in control (except the one time he tried to get you to call him daddy - you quickly informed him you would NOT be doing that). This was new for both of you, but he clearly wasn’t opposed to it. If the stiffness of his untouched cock had anything to say about it, he seemed to be pretty damn into it. 

“So…” he started, dragging out the ‘o’ “Are you gonna come over here, or what? I’m getting kinda bored!” Gojo whined, jutting out his bottom lip in a dramatic pout.

You roll your eyes, but make your way over to him. His eyes roam your body, and you pray he can’t see how much it’s affecting you. You try to keep your gaze steely, but you can’t help but look. He’s got goosebumps running up his arms and legs, and his cock twitches when you stare at it just a bit too long. He’s biting his lip when your stare finally makes its way to his face, eyes half-lidded and clouded with lust. 

Silently, you motion to him to move further into the sheets, and he does, looking at you expectantly once he’s right in the middle of the bed. 

“Alright baby,” you coo, moving to straddle him. “Be good for me, won’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah, I can do that,” he says frantically, hands hovering tentatively over your hips.

You give him the go ahead, and he kneads his fingers into the flesh of your hips, grip already bruising as you grind down on him just right. 

He’s sensitive, more sensitive than he usually is, and you smirk down at him as he bites back a groan when your movements pick up.

“Feel good?” you do your best not to laugh when his head bobbles in response. “Aww, useless already? That’s okay sweetie, I’ve got you.”

“Want to put it in, can I?” His eyes meet yours, his tone dripping with  need. 

“Please, c-can I? Please, I’ve been guh-good, so good! Please please please, wanna feel you around me, see the outline of me in you, please!”

“Hmm, okay!” your hands reach down and you squeeze his cock hard, and your tone shifts. “On one condition. Can you do one little thing for me?”

His eyes are unfocused as you drag his angry tip teasingly against your entrance, but you won’t sink down until you’ve got your answer. 

“Well, Toru?”

“Mhm- I can do it, I can do it!”

You lean down and kiss him, biting his lower lip as you pull away. 

“Eyes on mine, or we stop.”

Without waiting for a confirmation, you sink down, right to the base. He’s big, and it hurts at first, but the tears at your waterline are worth it for the fucked out look that overtakes Gojo’s face. He’s already babbling nonsense, a mix of frantic swears and pleas, but you ignore him, choosing to experimentally roll your hips instead. Your eyes are on his the whole time, almost unfeeling, and it turns him on the way that you’re using him right now. He was right - you look absolutely stunning tonight.The sheen of sweat that covered your skin gave you a faint glow under the light of the room. 

Nothing was more beautiful to him, he thought to himself, than you using him like an over-sized dildo.

“Might as well be,” you comment, something mean hiding in your gaze. “You’re-hah-not exactly doing much but laying there and taking it.”

Oh fuck, did he say that out loud? 

“‘m not! You’re just-ngh-ridin’ me so guh-good, can’t help it!”

You rub a thumb across his cheek, wiping away the tears (when did he start crying?). Your touch is far more gentle than the brutal pace you set with your hips. It’s bordering on painful, but the friction is so delicious you’re unable to stop as his cock slides against your velvet walls. He almost forgets your request, but when his eyes flutter shut and you freeze on top of him, looking down at him expectantly.

“W-why did you stop?” he sobs, eyes flying open. “C’mon, I was being so good-”

“I had one request, Gojo,” you say, tone cold. 

“One request, and you couldn’t even do it. God, you’re pathetic. Got your dick a little wet and all that talk went out the door, huh?”

He whined, his hands reaching to grip your hips. He weakly tries to move you up and down his dick, legs twitching underneath you, but you won’t move. He really won’t look at you now - eyes anywhere but your face as he tries to buck up into your soft, wet heat. You know that if he really wanted to, the ball would be in his court again. He could overpower you in a second and take what he wants, but he won’t - he’s a good boy at heart.

“Are you done now?” you ask, rolling your eyes. 

“Look at me.”

His eyes find yours again, searching them for a reprieve, but instead his breath catches at the look in your eyes. Despite just how mean you’re treating him, there’s something soft hiding in the glint of your eyes as you look down at him. You feel his heartbeat explode under your hand, and you let out a small huff. You grab his hand and he gives you a curious look, but as you raise it to your own chest he swears there’s nothing else in the universe but you. Your heartbeat is frantic under his fingertips, and when you look up at his face again, you think you see hearts in his eyes. But the moment passes, as all moments do, and you bring his hand back down to the sheets. Suddenly, he’s hyperaware of just how stupid he must look under you right now - hair messy, cheeks flushed, eyes teary - but he won’t look away. He thinks if you stop again he might die. 

It made him nervous, seeing how composed you were above him, looking like some sort of deity. The eye contact had embarrassment clawing at him from under his skin, and a flush spreading from his cheeks down to his chest. Everything in him screamed look away, look away! but he couldn’t. There was nothing in this room, in the universe, but you you you and the way your body molded into his.

You weren’t faring much better. His eyes had always been mesmerizing, but there was something addicting to seeing them from this angle and watching them blur with tears. He was looking at you with reverence, with an unconditional sort of love, and it made your walls flutter around him. The rock of your hips started to get unsteady and you reached desperately for his hand, lacing your fingers together once you found purchase. 

You maintained eye contact with him as you pulled it against your chest so he could feel the steady thump thump of your erratic heartbeat against his skin. His hips bucked up on their own, but you could barely care - not when his fat tip rubbed against your sweet spot just right with every bounce.

“Fuh-fuck, baby, can I?” he moaned, eyes teary. 

“Can I, puh-please?”

He didn’t have to say it - you know what he’s begging for. But what fun is it if you let him have what he wants so easily?

“Can you what, baby? Are you asking me to stop?”

Your pace drops to a slow grind, hitting your sweet spot perfectly but not giving him nearly as much friction as he needs to let go. The whine he lets out at the loss of friction is desperate, and he can no longer hold back the waterworks. You reach down to wipe away the tears, feigning concern.

“What’s wrong, baby? I thought this is what you wanted. You couldn’t use your big boy words, so I just had to assume, you know.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll do better next time, just please go faster, please, I’m b-begging you!”

You sigh, rolling your eyes at him. “So needy, aren’t you? Well, I guess you did ask nicely…”

“S-so, nicely, please? I want it so bad, need it, please please please?”

Always one for dramatics, even when his brain is mush, you note, but at this point you’re also starting to feel a little bit desperate. You want to drag it out more but you can’t, not when his gushing head brushes your sweet spot for the nth time. 

You try to keep your cool demeanor, but it starts to slip when you watch Gojo’s pretty pink lips form the most perfect little ‘o’ as your hips speed up. He’s still watching you intently; brilliant blue eyes locked on yours. You shoot him a sweet little smile before speaking again.

“You’re doing so good baby,” your voice shaky as your peak nears. “So good I might just let you cum. Are you ready to cum?”

A pathetic, needy look flashes across his features, and he begins to blubber out pleas.

“So ready, the r-readiest, never been more ready in my life!” He's struggling to keep eye contact now, but he’s trying your best (and you’re close) so you let it slide.

“Can I, can I please? Please, m-mommy, need it, I need to cum in you, fill you up, please!”

His pleas send you over the edge and your orgasm crashes over you uncontrollably, frantically clasping his hand in yours as it does.

“Cum with me, baby, c-cum, cum.”

He wails, hips bucking violently as he’s finally allowed release. It takes everything in you to keep your eyes open, too, as your orgasm sweeps over you. There’s something so strangely intimate about this moment as you both rut into each other, riding out your highs. Every ounce of love, every word he hasn’t said, he pours into his gaze, and you into yours. There’s a sort of magic in the moment, an almost tangible buzzing in the air around you two. 

There’s a flicker of something in the corner of his eyes, a flash of blue lightning, and the nearby light explodes as his eyes finally roll back. If you were more aware you’d realize that Gojo had felt so good he had lost control of his jujutsu, but the jolt of pleasure-pain from the electricity at his fingertips is enough to send your eyes rolling back, too. 

When you finally manage to stop the shaky roll of your hips, you look down at Gojo, smiling softly at him. He always managed to look insanely gorgeous in every moment, and you couldn’t help but admire him as he came down from his high. You’re still holding hands, and he gives yours a gentle squeeze, looking absolutely lovesick. 

You want to deal with the broken glass, you really do, but instead you gently lift your hips and flop down next to him, exhausted. 

Later, you’d find out that power went out across the whole block, and that the party downstairs definitely knew what you two were up to, but for now, you’re content.

Well, you were content. Suddenly, you shoot up, peering over at your boyfriend, just now processing what he had babbled earlier.

“Did you call me mommy earlier?”

He flushes, looking anywhere but you. “Shut up!!”

You laugh, letting it go for now. A conversation for another time, you suppose. You lay back down, pulling him into your chest. You don’t quite know what took over you tonight, but you’re glad. Because sometimes, your stupid cocky boyfriend needed to be reminded that you weren’t just beautiful - you were deadly.

Geto Suguru - Touch Me, Touch Me!

“Suguru.”

“My love.”

“Suguru.”

“My love?”

You can’t even look him in the eye right now. You don’t have to, because you can picture the smug, self-assured look on his face without actually seeing him. You’re out for dinner with your friends - Gojo, Shoko, and Nanami - and yes, perhaps you wanted to be somewhere else, too, but your boyfriend was being insufferable. Whispering little things into your ear, about how ravishing you look tonight and what he’s going to do to you later and how he’s obsessed with every little thing about you. And honestly? You were sick of it. Not only was he making it impossible to enjoy the night out with your mutual friends, but the warm buzz of arousal under your skin was making it hard for you to sit still. The smugness in his eyes as he watched you clench your thighs together was enough for something more akin to anger to bubble up. The image of him, on his knees, begging for just a touch had you grinning right back at him. He tilted his head, almost as if asking “what?”, but you gently shook your head, rejoining the conversation with your friends. 

Biding your time proved to be worth it. The more you refused to acknowledge your boyfriend’s advances, the more desperate he got. 

“How about we get out of here, hm? I’m starting to get a little bored, and I can think of something far more fun for us to do.” The teasing lilt of his voice and the predatory smirk usually had you biting your cheek and looking away, but you held your ground. Instead, your eyes moved to meet his, trying your best to remain nonchalant.

“Well I’m having fun,” you start, reaching over to squeeze his upper thigh. “So just sit still and look pretty for a little longer, okay? I know you’re impatient, my love, but you can wait a little longer, can’t you? I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

You bit back a smile as confusion made its way to Suguru’s face. Mocking him, telling him to wait? You’d never done that, ever. Before he gets a chance to retort, you turn yourself back to Shoko and pick your conversation back up, leaving your hand on his thigh. 

As the night dragged on, even you were starting to get bored. Somehow, Gojo had managed to get a drink, and, immediately drunk, began rambling on about his students and their adventures. You’re sure these stories would be interesting if he was hiccuping between words and taking long pauses mid-story to remember the story at all. Suguru had warned you that Gojo was a lightweight, but you were still surprised by how low his tolerance was. 

Despite the drag, you had a bit of entertainment at the tip of your fingers. Quite literally, for that matter - Suguru’s thigh remained in your grip, and whenever you felt the urge, you’d give it a squeeze. If he was lucky, you might even brush over his dick first, which had stiffened noticeably since you had started your antics. You were starting to understand why he teased you all the time - his reactions were so delicious - and while he wasn’t forgiven by any means, you figured a little payback was in order.

When a (very drunk) Gojo finally got around to paying the bill, you had to try your best not to jump at the chance to leave. You loved your friends, but you had been sitting on a landmine since you’d started teasing Suguru. You had to be careful - push him too far, and he grabs whatever semblance of control you’ve created right out of your hands.

The drive home is silent. You hadn’t drank, so you grabbed the keys out of his hands, giving him a sly grin. Control is a fickle thing, so you tread lightly as you pull the car in. One misstep, and you lose. But you’re pretty confident you’ve got him right where you want him when he can barely manage to get the keys into the door. Yaga (bless his soul) had agreed to watch the girls for the night, so you two had the house to yourselves. 

You watch patiently as he locks the door. He turns around to say something, but you put a finger up to your lips and grab his hand with your free one. Quickly, as to not lose your momentum, you drag him to the bedroom. You guide him to the bed, gently pushing him to sit up against the headboard. You strip yourselves of your clothes, and try to ignore the burn of his eyes as they drink you in. You wanted to tease him some more, but he could see the desperation in the slight tremble of your hands - you needed this just as much as he did.

You sink into the bed across from him, just far enough away that he can’t reach. “Hands to yourself, okay?”

“My love, you can’t be serious-”

“Hands to yourself. And that’s final, Suguru.”

You reach down to touch yourself, gently rubbing your entrance with two teasing fingers. You make sure to exaggerate how good you make yourself feel - a twitch of the leg here, a flutter of the eyes there - and his hands are already gripping the sheets, knuckles white. You suck your own fingers into your mouth, mimicking the motions of giving him head, and pull off of them with an obscene pop! Still fully clothed, you watch his cock jump in his pants, straining against the tight fabric. You grin lazily, and look him right in the eyes as you insert your fingers into your entrance. Your eyes do actually flutter this time as you curl your fingers just right, finding that spongy sweet spot deep inside of you. Your fingers barely reached it, and briefly, you miss the feeling of Suguru’s long, thick fingers, but the drunken look on his face was worth the struggle. 

“Hah- haven’t even touched you and you’re already leaking, aren’t you, Sugu? Does it feel good, watching me touch myself?”

“S-shut up!” A deep red flush overtook his cheeks, spreading so far that his neck glowed a beautiful cherry red. 

“Lay down.”

“What?”

“I won’t ask again,” you say, eyes glowing dangerously. “Lay. Down.”

He moves to lay down, eyes searching yours for an answer, but he finds one when you move to hover over his face. His hands move up to grip your thighs, but you swat them away.

“Did you already forget your manners, Suguru? I asked you to keep your hands to yourself. Can you not follow one, simple instruction?”

“Sorry, ‘m sorry,” he cries out, tears gathering at his waterline. “Can I touch you, please? Need it, need you-”

“Hmm, let me think about it…” you look down at him, biting back a grin at the hopeful look in his eyes. “Nope! Sorry sugar, you’ll have to wait your turn. In the meantime, do you think you can touch yourself for me?”

“Yeah, yeah, I can do that,” he says, frantically fumbling to get his pants far enough down for his cock to spring out. You hear it thump! against his shirt, and, at a glance, he’s leaking. Fat globs of precum are dripping from his angry, red tip, and the vein that runs so pretty up the side of his cock is bulging out. He reaches a hand down to touch himself, but you stop him, grabbing his hand. You bring his hand up to your face and look him right in the eyes as you spit into his palm. An almost pornographic moan slips from his mouth, and his eyes roll back when you guide his spit-soaked hand down to his neglected cock. Once he’s set a somewhat steady pace fisting his pathetic cock, you reach down to toy with yourself again, staring down at Suguru with lidded eyes. His eyes are fixated on your now glistening entrance, your fingers going in and out tantalizingly. 

He doesn’t know what’s possessing him to listen to you - both of you know he’s more than strong enough to flip you both over and take what he wants - but there’s something so hot about the way you’re looking down on him, as if he’s not even worth your time. As if he doesn’t deserve your presence, but you’re kind enough to give it to him anyways. 

He can’t help the words from tumbling out of his mouth. “D-don’t deserve you baby-hnngh-don’t deserve you! Th-thank you for letting me touch my p-puh-pathetic cock, thank you thank you thank you-”

You cut him off, clenching around your fingers at just how broken he sounded. “You’re welcome, baby. So beautiful like this, all spread out underneath me. Do you know why you’re not allowed to touch me?”

“I-I dunno, ‘m sorry.” he says with a pout. His brows furrowed in concentration, but the cross of his eyes and the tears clinging to his waterline told you all you needed to know.

“Aww, baby, fucked dumb already?” you say, tone sickly sweet. “Didn’t even touch you and you’re already about to squirt.”

He squirms under you, teary eyes blinking up at you owlishly. “‘ts not s-squirt, ‘m not a g-guh-girl! I’m not-mgnh!”

You let out a mean laugh at his pathetic protests. “No? Sure are squealing like one, sugar. Open your mouth for me.”

He does as he’s told, his tongue lolling out uselessly. You reach down with your free hand and hold his mouth open with your thumb and pointer finger and spit, right onto his tongue. 

You hold him there for a little longer, watching him gurgle on your spit and his own moans. “Alright, baby: swallow.”

He gulps loudly, and a slew of broken ah ah ah!s spew out of his mouth. You can see that he’s getting close - the unfocused look in his eyes and the buck of his hips up up up from the bed told you that much - and you’re not too far off, yourself. Your domineering, teasing boyfriend was a total wreck underneath you, squealing and moaning like a pornstar. You could’ve probably cum untouched from the sight, really.

“Gonna come already?” you sneer, snarling down at him. “You’re gonna cum, fisting your pathetic cock like a slut?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, g’nna cum,” he groans out, eyes rolled into the back of his skull. “Ooooh, I’m gonna cum, please please please, need to cum, can I? Hnngh! Can’t hold it, please, cum cum cum-”

“Pull your hand away.”

He borderline screams in frustration as he rips his hand away from his swollen cock, just to actually scream when you quickly move down his body and sink down on his cock. You sigh at the feeling of him filling you up, the stretch so intense but so perfect that you couldn’t complain. You were so close you were sure a couple bounces would be all it would take. So you immediately throw yourself into a monstrous pace, the room filling with the wet shlap! of your hips meeting his. 

You lock eyes with him, only for a moment, but it’s all you need. “Cum.”

As if on command, you feel him twitch inside of you, and the splash of his warm cum filling your insides. You lose control of your hips as you bounce wildly, chasing your own orgasm. You miss the way Suguru’s eyes roll back as your own find the inside of your skull, and you cum around him. It’s perhaps the strongest orgasms of both of your lives, and by the time you come down, your legs are shaking and your inner thighs are coated with a gross mix of both of your fluids. The room smells of sex and sweat, and the only sound in the room is the quiet pants of both of you as you try to find some sort of grasp on reality again. 

“F-fuck, my love, what the hell was that?” 

You laugh, a beautiful sound, as you carefully lift your hips to pull his softening cock out of you. “Was sick of your attitude, someone had to do something.”

“Give a guy a warning next time,” he says, throwing an arm over his face to hide the embarrassed flush of his skin. “Don’t think I’ve ever come that fast.”

“Mhm, me neither,” you admit. “Wonder if I can break that record next time…”

“Next time?? My love, you can’t be serious-”

You giggle as you head off to the bathroom to grab stuff to clean him up with. “Sorry, what was that?? I think you’re cutting out!”

“We’re talking in real life-get back here!”

Sukuna Ryomen - So Good You Might Just Taste Heaven on Your Tongue

Sukuna Ryomen was not known for his flattery. He did not go out of his way to tell you that he “loved you” or “cared for you”, or any nonsense like that. Instead he was rather blunt. Anything that came out of his mouth he believed to be the absolute truth. Which is why it was so much more flustering than if he was actually trying to flatter you. He doesn’t just mean the things he says - he believes that everyone should, too. 

“Your eyes look like heaven, petal.”

“I want to hold you this instant. My arms feel empty without you in them.”

“I planted the roses in the garden because I was inspired by your beauty, but their colors seem dull whenever you walk past.”

He doesn’t hold his tongue, either. He’s the King of Curses, after all. He had no reason toe - anyone who dared scoff or even laugh at the way he spoke about you met a swift, gruesome end. He’s never minded a bit of blood, anyways.

You, on the other hand, aren’t so forward. You were more in the subtlety - a brush of the hand, a flutter of the eyelash, a love note hidden in between the pages of a book. You’re not used to the brashness in which Sukuna speaks, and he was almost confused by your flustered state at first. He was simply speaking the truth, after all. He had no reason to lie to you, his sweet petal. But as time passed, and he began to understand your silly human customs,  he found your silly faces quite…endearing. There was something special about being the only one who could pull those expressions from you.

“Ryo, stop!”

Like now, for instance. He had simply told you that your eyes glittered like diamonds in the sunlight, and suddenly those same eyes were looking anywhere but his face. You hated when he did this, and he knew it, but it was so hard to resist when your lovely lips had already pulled themselves into a cute little pout. How was he to help himself? You had yourself propped on the loveseat next to the window, animatedly telling him about your day. He had chosen to splay himself on the bed (he had honestly hoped you would have chosen to sit on his lap instead, but when it comes to you, he would take what he could get). Anyone would’ve noticed the way the sun caught in your eyes and made them glow, he was sure. Why else would he be so enraptured by it?

“Sorry, petal,” he said, anything but sorry. “Not my fault you’re beautiful, is it?”

“It’s my parents’ fault, actually.”

“Ha ha.”

This was your usual tactic: attempting to hide your embarrassment behind a joke or two. You knew the sudden loss of eye contact and the nervous fiddling of your hands gave you away, but you like to pretend that you’re getting away with it each time (even when you both know you’re not). 

“C’mere,” Sukuna beckoned with a lazy curl of his finger. 

“Sick of you being all the way over there. Plenty of room for both of us on the bed, petal.”

“Oh, are you now?” You ask, but you’re already moving to get up.

In a moment of boldness (stupidity?) you plop yourself right onto his lap, straddling his thighs. You’re looking right at him, and now you’ve caught him off guard. You couldn’t tell from his face, but the tips of his ears were colored a bright red and it made you grin, something warm curling in your lower abdomen. It’s not often that you get to turn the tables like this on your stoic boyfriend. 

You run a gentle hand up his chest, moving to gently cradle his face. He leans into your touch, eyes curious as you thumb at his lips. He lets them part and you lean in, gently locking your lips with his. It starts sweet, as all kisses do, but the heat in your stomach doesn’t disappear, and the kisses become more frantic. Your hips cant against his once, twice, before you pull away for air.

“Where’d this come from, petal? Not that I’m complaining.” Sukuna says, eyes lidded.

“Dunno,” you murmur, guiding him to lay down against the plush of the sheets. “Want to find out?”

“God, you’re hot when you take what you want.”

“Thanks,” you say, breath hot against his neck. 

It made a shiver run down his spine and a heat rush down to his cock. You feel it twitch against you and you grin up, teasing, but he won’t look you in the eyes. You huff, pinching his cheeks between your hands, turning his face so he can’t look anywhere but you.

“You’re beautiful too, y’know,” you say, looking down at him so earnestly that he can’t help but gaze up at you.

“I wouldn’t exactly call myself ‘beautiful’, petal.”

And in that moment you’re hit with utter certainty that no one had ever called him beautiful but you. The scars he bore and the weight he carried on his shoulders made him a threat to everyone around him, curses and sorcerers alike. And you knew that, sure, but sometimes it’s easy to forget that he had always been that. There was no happy childhood, no middle school crushes, no family to remind him that a part of him was human at all. But he truly was naturally very beautiful - he just never had the luxury of being allowed to be so.

You sigh, shaking your head. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

The flush reaches beyond his ears this time, spreading across his cheeks and down his neck. “I’m quite certain that’s not true.”

You frown, but something in your eyes glints, feral. “Let’s start with your face, hm? Perfect cheekbones, soft lips, pretty ruby eyes, just the most rideable nose…mhm, mind if I show you just how beautiful your face is?”

He smirks, the sharp point of his canines peeking over his lower lip. “If you’re implying that you’re going to ride my face, then by all means petal, go right ahead.”

You know that you’re only holding some semblance of control because he wants you to have it, but there’s still a rush of heat in your veins at the idea of using his face to get off. You strip your pants and underwear in one fell swoop, flinging them onto the floor carelessly. They were a problem for later - right now, you were going to ride Sukuna’s face to kingdom come.

“Don’t move.” you say, moving to straddle his face. 

His hands move to grab your hips, but you slap them away, sending him a warning look. He looks up at you, clearly amused, but he humors you anyways, letting his hands fall back to his side. You sink down, nice and slow, letting out a gentle sigh as his tongue makes contact with your entrance.

He laps at you gently, eyes fluttering as he tastes your essence on his tongue. A low groan grumbles out of his throat, and the vibrations against your flesh make you sink deeper on him.

Usually, his hands would sink into the meat of your hips, guiding your entrance against his eager tongue, but he was being surprisingly good, letting you take what you want without a complaint. Your hand slides down into the soft tufts of his hair, gently sifting your fingers through it before giving it a sharp tug as his tongue reaches a sweet spot inside you. You consider apologizing, but at the way his hazy eyes look up at you almost reverently, you know he wants this. Wants you to use him like he’s nothing more than a toy, like he’s just meant to be an appendage to your pleasure.

“You like this, don’t you?” you ask before you can stop yourself. 

“You like being under me like this.”

Shit. You definitely should’ve kept that to yourself - even when it’s true, Sukuna doesn’t like to be made less than, especially by a mere mortal. You lift your hips off of him, keen on apologizing, when a whine tears from his throat at the loss.

“G-get your hips back down here, damn it,” he demands harshly, refusing to actually return your curious gaze.

You huff softly, surprised he’s letting you take it this far. While he didn’t really ask as much as he commanded you to return to your original position, the fact that he hadn’t simply pulled you back down himself was very telling. You decide that perhaps you should test your luck. No matter the outcome, you’re guaranteed a good time, after all.

“Is that how we ask for things?” you ask, disappointment clear in your tone.

“Try again.”

“Are you serious, petal?” he responds, incredulously. “If you’re asking me to beg, I will do no such thing.”

“Okay,” you say, shifting to straddle his chest. “Then you won’t get what you want.”

He’s about to retort, but it’s caught in his throat as you let out a gentle sigh, hand moving to slip your fingers into your leaking entrance. Your other hand presses firmly on his abdomen, just above where his twitching members were begging to be touched.

He’s above this - he’s the King of Curses, damn it - but when your eyes flutter as your too short fingers just barely brush your sweet spot, his resolve crumbles just a bit. He reaches for you, rough hands circling your waist as he tries to move you back up to his drooling mouth.

“Sukuna.”

Your voice is low, commanding, and for the first time in his long life, he listens without a second thought. Hands drop back to his side mindlessly, like his body could do nothing but obey your saccharine voice. 

“Good boy.”

You return to touching yourself, perched on his chest like you own him, and he seethes underneath you. How dare you do this to him, reduce him to nothing more than a dog begging for scraps. He tells himself that he’s letting you have your fun, that soon he’ll flip you over and take what he wants from you, yet he can’t take his eyes off your glistening entrance. It’s mesmerizing the way your fingers slide in and out, and the wet shlick of your entrance has him salivating. He wants to taste you on his tongue, to be the thing drawing those perfect little noises out of you, but instead he’s resigned to watching you please yourself.

The way you look down at him is almost mocking, and he snarls when he finally snaps out of his reverie to look up at you.

“So? Are you going to try again? I believe in you, ‘Kuna.”

“Fuck off!” he growls, eyes sharp. “F-fuck you, damn it! I’ll only say this one more time: get your hips back down here. Now, petal.”

You laugh, a tinkling sound, because you’re smart enough to know that if Sukuna really wanted you to give in to his words, he would’ve already grabbed you and put you in your place. He would never say it out loud, but the flush of his face and the hint of submission glittering in his eyes was enough to tell you that he wanted you to break him. Force him to beg until he was so humiliated he lost himself. 

“‘Kuna. Look at me.”

The second he does, he regrets it. The sadistic glint in your eyes does something to him, and something warm sits in his abdomen that he can’t quite explain. He’s never been this turned on in his life (not that he’d ever admit that to you), and he tries his best to keep his harsh demeanor.

“What is it? Finally giving in, brat?”

“Funny,” you say, leaning down and sinking your teeth into the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

His head tilts to allow you better access, and you like a long stripe up the side of his neck, nibbling at spots that you know are sensitive. He tries to remain still under you, but when you bite a particular sensitive spot he jolts as if he’s been shocked. His mouth is pressed into a thin line, a sad attempt to keep any noises from escaping. 

As you mark up his neck, one of your hands reaches down to toy with your entrance again. You’re soaked, and your essence is starting to leave a wet spot on Sukuna’s shirt from how much you’re absolutely dripping. If you weren’t so set on making your goliath of a boyfriend break, you’d be tempted to bring yourself to completion right here, right now.

“H-hey, brat.”

You glance up at him, curious. He seems to be expecting a proper response, but you decide he doesn’t deserve one, opting to raise a brow at him instead.

“You win, alright? I’m done with your games. If I must beg to make you cease your nonsense, then I will.”

You wait, but he says nothing else. You roll your eyes, bringing your hand that’s covered in your essence to hover right over his lips.

“I’m waiting, Sukuna. Will you be good for me now?”

“I’ve never been good a day in my life, you know that, petal-”

“Ryomen.”

You feel the shudder he lets out at you finally using his first name, enjoying the way that even words could draw out such a cute reaction from your usually stoic boyfriend.

“Fine, whatever. I will be ‘good’, sure. Just sit on my face again, won’t you? See, now I’m asking. Is that better for you, petal? Am I finally being ‘good’?”

He’s grinning, cocky, like he’s about to win some sort of prize, and suddenly you can’t help but bring a hand down, slapping him harshly right across the face. The sound echoes through his chambers as he blinks in disbelief, unable to believe that you just slapped him.

“Good? You think that was being good?” You seethe, seeing red. 

“If you don’t fix your god damn attitude, I’m going to make you watch me cum over and over again and let your pathetic dicks wet your pants with precum. Let them turn purple with need, soaking your pants like a dog in heat, and then I’m going to leave you here to jerk them off alone, knowing it won’t feel nearly as good as even my heels digging into them. Do I make myself clear? Or do I need to slap some sense into you again?”

“Crystal.” he swallows, throat dry. 

Suddenly it was so warm in here. You were right - he was feeling just like a dog in heat, pitifully licking his chops at the idea of tasting you. He was certain his underwear was ruined, tainted with globs of sticky precum that was absolutely gushing out of his cocks at the way you were treating him. He wanted you to hit him again, slap him like he was nothing, just do anything to him.

“Okay then, last chance, Sukuna. Beg.”

He closes his eyes. Fuck, was he really going to do this? Let some puny mortal, a feeble human, no less, walk all over him like this? He was a king, the most feared creature in all of the lands, and yet - 

“Fine then. If you don’t have it in you, then I’ll just-”

“No, please!”

You grin, feral, at his response. You don’t move, letting him look up at you like he’s going to die without you on top of him.

“F-fuck, what have you done to me?” he says, rubbing a hand down his face. 

“Please, petal. Don’t make me ask again, please? Need to taste you on my tongue, stop teasing me, damn it, I’ll be good, I’ll be whatever you want, just…please.”

He’s flushed red, and you save him any further embarrassment by moving to straddle his face again.

“Good boy, Ryo.”

His eyes roll back as you finally sink back down on his face, tasting your sweet nectar on his tongue. He’s been waiting too long, and he claws at the sheets when he finally has you.

He’s letting out the cutest little sounds against your entrance, sending a pleasant vibration through your core, and you thread your fingers through his hair again. All the teasing you’ve done to yourself has your orgasm barrelling at you, and you’d be embarrassed if Sukuna wasn’t absolutely drunk on your taste.

“God, f-fuck, just like that, Ryo,” you murmur, hips canting against his face.

He doesn’t respond, too lost in the way you’re dripping on his tongue. You're grinding down so hard that he can barely breathe, but he could care less about air right now - all he can think about is you you you. You riding his face so perfectly, you all dressed in white, you with a pretty little ring on your finger. Just you as a part of his forever.

“Ryo, ‘m gonna!” you say breathlessly, hips beginning to shake as the coil in your stomach starts to snap.

He knows you told him not to, but he can’t allow himself to miss a single drop of your cum, and his hands come up to grip your thighs and dig your entrance right into his waiting mouth. As your eyes roll back, his do too, and he thinks for a moment that he might just cum in his pants. Your grip on his hair is lethal, and it���s doing things to him as you use him to ride out your high. The sickening twist in his guts lets him know that he likes this, perhaps a bit too much - being merely an object to your pleasure, a means to an end.

And you - you’re looking down at him with such devotion, and as his eyes meet yours, there’s nothing short of pure adoration in your gaze. You frantically fumble to move down, a gentle hand reaching to thumb at his cheek as you take him in. He looks far too wrecked to have not been touched, and yet, without looking, you knew he was good enough to keep his hands off his dicks without you asking. Your bare pelvis brushes against the outline in his jeans as you shift to straddle him, grinning at the way he groans low in his throat. You laugh airly at this, swiftly moving to place a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. You can still taste the remnants of yourself on him as his hand finds the back of your head, guiding your mouth back to his. You want to remind him not to touch, but your body can’t resist how sweetly he kisses you, like you two are the only people on the Earth.

He pulls away, eyes tracing your features, an unreadable look on his face. You don’t have time to question him before he’s already speaking his mind.

“Alright, you minx,” he murmurs, eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve had enough. It’s my turn now.”

Before you can retort, he’s flipping you both over, a sharp glint of something ruthless in his eyes. You gulp, suddenly so small under his gaze.

“Let me remind you who’s really in charge, hm?”

[wemlygust]

I can confirm this is very good and helpful software. It is trustworthy. However, some caution is warranted when using it, especially if you aren't used to doing this kind of tinkering, as some apps may appear useless but actually be tied into the functionality of other apps or aspects of your phone. For this reason, I recommend only disabling apps, instead of deleting them fully. If you only disable the apps, this also means you can easily re-enable them in the evevntuality that you might want to trade-in or sell your phone. Google their names and read up on them and whether it is safe to disable them before doing so, as well. (Do not rely on AI summaries to give you the answer here.) If needed, specifically enter the name of the app and "site:reddit.com" into the Google search field, to find reddit threads about it. If you have a Samsung: do not, under any circumstances, disable or uninstall any of the Knox apps. This is Samsung security software, with an alarm/tripwire of sorts that can be tripped by hacking/rooting/etc, and it is NOT worth messing with in any way. Some people say you can get away with it if you don't care about certain features, like Secure Folder, but lots of others say messing with it breaks a lot more than that. I remember reading comments saying you can brick your phone messing with this. So best to just not, unless you know a lot more than me and are SURE of what you are doing. Anyway, in general, to be extra cautious, only disable one app, or a small group of apps, at a time, then test the phone for a while so that you can catch it if you accidentally disable something important and re-enable it. Additionally, if you end up having mysterious phone issues in the future that you can't figure out, do remember that you did this, and check to see if the problem is that you disabled something important. But the good news is that in most cases, most apps can be easily re-enabled with the push of a button. Knox (or maybe security software apps on other phones) is really the only potential exception that I know of, since I think that's a "once you trip the alarm it stays tripped" situation. I do agree it's worth spending the time and effort to do this, though, especially if you have a lot of bloatware that doesn't let you uninstall it via regular means. On older phones, sometimes you get a performance boost out of it if the bloatware apps you disable were running a bunch of unwanted and unneeded background processes. Just proceed slowly, double check to make sure you know what an app is before you touch it, and you'll be a-okay. I worry I'm making it sound scarier/more hazardous than it actually is. But if you're nervous, this software doesn't ever force you into disabling or uninstalling anything; it's truly just a tool. The program is legit and trustworthy, and I use it myself. I'm basically just trying to do the equivalent of telling people not to hit a glass window with a hammer, you know? The hammer isn't dangerous as long as you know not to casually toss it across the room and accidentally into a window (or whatever) and to keep your fingers out of the way when you're hammering nails. Anyway, it is a million times better and safer to use this than any program that claims to debloat your phone automatically. Those just take all the control out of your hands, and they're known to mess up and cause major problems sometimes.

I fucking hate it here

[shield-secrets]

Bad Day - Dr Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch

I guess this counts as coming out of semi-retirement? anyway my heart will always belong to strong, silent, slightly emotionally unavailable men. Enjoy two idiots simping over each other. And please be kind. I'm a little rusty. Pairing: Dr Michael 'Robby Robinavitch x younger!nurse!reader Word Count: ~2.5k Warnings: none. does centre around babies so if that's not your vibe I get it

It had taken almost 2 extra hours but finally all the charts were complete. Every patient was handed over to the incoming paediatric nurses and you were finally cleared to go home. 

There wasn’t anything exciting waiting for you, no social plans to speak of but after the day you’d had that wasn’t such a bad thing. Some shifts left you buzzing with anxiety (or, very rarely, joy) that needed to be directed outwards but this one had left you drained down to your bones. 

They happened less frequently now that you’d left the Pitt but dealing with tiny, innocent little humans in such critical condition was a different kind of hell from the casualties that tumbled into the ED in a never ending stream. 

Robby had warned you about it when you’d announced that you were accepting a new position upstairs in the paediatric wing but you’d mostly chalked it up to his disappointment that one of his favourite day shift nurses was leaving his department. 

The ED had never been your true calling, just a stop along the way to the babies that needed your help the most but that hadn’t made the decision to leave any easier. All the members of the Pitt had become your pseudo-family after 2 years working side by side. Samira had even planned your last birthday party when you’d said that you ‘couldn’t be bothered celebrating’. But in spite of those wonderful relationships there had been one in particular tethering you to the teeming mass of chaos that was The Pitt. 

Michael Robinavitch, MD. Known publicly as the Senior Attending Physician for Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital. Known to his staff as Dr Robby and to you as….something else. 

More than a boss but not quite a friend. Someone who refused to share his personal life had somehow weaselled his way under your skin. Just from a slight change in his posture or the inflection of his tone you’d instantly know how he was feeling, often turning up at his side with a granola bar or a coffee cool enough that he could down it in between patients. 

Over time he started to do the same for you - even though technically as a nurse you didn’t fall under his line of reporting. You’d be sitting at the hub, inputting patient data only to look up and find one of his favourite choc chip peanut butter power bars balanced delicately on the top of the monitor. Neither of you ever discussed it, just quietly kept each other motoring along despite the hurricane threatening to engulf the ED. 

“Alright. Get out of here” Angela, the senior paeds charge nurse, demanded as you handed over your keys to the prescriptions cabinet. “Before something goes wrong and we have to drag you back” 

“More than happy to comply” you laughed, brushing away the strands of hair that had escaped the bun you’d secured at the nape of your neck 10 hours ago. “See you on Monday” 

“Ah to be young” the older woman sighed wistfully, lifting her glasses to rest in her cloud of grey curls. “I hope you’re getting yourself out there. Not wasting your youth doomscrolling on that infernal phone” 

With a gentle shake of your head you reached under the desk to retrieve your bag. If Angela knew that your plans for the next 48 hours involved rotting on the couch and maybe scrolling through Hinge for the forty thousandth time she’d go on an hour long rant about how time was wasted on ‘pretty things like you’ and that you'd regret not getting out there when you was old and grey like her. 

Maybe there was a shred of truth to that but how could you dedicate yourself to finding a boyfriend when you couldn’t get a certain moody doctor out of your head. There had been other guys over the years but no matter how hard you tried they just couldn’t compare to the emotionally unavailable attending that haunted your dreams. 

Pulling your ‘infernal phone’ out of your bag you frowned to see a message from Dana waiting for you. It had only been there for ten minutes but the content had your insides lurching. 

Any chance you’re still here?

Frowning down at the screen you shouldered your bag, typing out a quick response. 

Just about to bail. Everything okay?

As soon as you sent your message a reply popped up underneath. 

Bad day. Could you come down?

She didn’t need to elaborate for you to know exactly who she was talking about and instead of taking the north exit towards the parking structure you were turning left, straight for the lift down to the Pitt. 

Dana barely managed a smile when the silver doors slid open. She just gestured with her pen to the dark windows of the staff room where you could barely make out a familiar silhouette. 

“So. The Pitt was sucking extra hard today?” you asked as you slid the door shut behind you. 

Letting loose a sigh that could rattle bones Robby slowly turned and the pure devastation on his face had your heart squeezing.

“Yeah,” he admitted after a pause. “You could say that” 

Irritation twisted under your pale pink scrubs. 

There was always more to it. Prying feelings out of Robby was like pulling blood from a stone. Even if you spent all night trying he wouldn’t part with anything but the bare minimum - the smallest amount of vulnerability that would get you off his case.  

And as much as you wanted all of it, to take all of the pain and darkness off his overburdened shoulders, you wouldn’t force his hand. He deserved soft and gentle and kind. 

“Any plans after work?” 

“Does sleeping for 16 years count?” he chuckled, rubbing a hand along his salt and pepper chin. 

“You got 16 years off? Wow. Maybe I should have been a doctor” 

He huffed a laugh at the joke but the accompanying smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Dana had been right. A bad day indeed. “Do you have a minute? I think I know something that might help” 

He let you take him without complaint, leading him back through the buzzing ED and over to the elevators. As if sensing it was futile he didn’t even ask where you were going. Whether that was a sign of his trust or exhaustion you couldn’t tell, but his hand was warm in yours as the two of ventured up to the maternity ward. 

“You have to promise to keep this a secret” you said as you came to a stop outside a set of white double doors. “Technically we’re not meant to do this but I have an…arrangement” 

A dark brow arched in question but you ignored it, pushing the doors open slowly to reveal a sea of newborn babies resting in perspex cradles. Just the sight of the tiny newborns wrapped in pale yellow blankets set your heart fluttering. 

Babies weren’t everyone’s thing, that had become abundantly clear in your 8 months in paeds, but in your perfectly correct opinion there was nothing quite as soothing as holding a warm bundle in your arms after a hard shift. 

“You come in here often?” Robby asked, his voice low as to not disturb the sleeping patients. 

“From time to time” you admitted before grabbing two yellow paper gowns from the dispenser on the wall. “Angela turned me onto it after we lost a set of premature twins. Nothing helps sooth the sting of death like brand new little lives” 

“Or just an excuse to cuddle babies” Robby teased, a twinkle of amusement in his brown eyes. 

“Well it’s a better coping mechanism than standing on a ledge” you shot back. 

“Next time I see Jack up there I’ll suggest it to him” 

A snort of laughter echoed through the silent room. 

“Come on. I’ve got the perfect one” 

“What, you evaluate the babies for cuddle-potential?” Robby asked as the two of you slowly weaved your way through the rows on cradles. 

“No. I ask my spies which ones are the calmest so I know who won’t cry if I pick them up” 

“You have spies?” 

“All the best nurses have spies. You don’t think Dana has her own little network?” 

“Oh I know she does” he agreed. The ED would be engulfed in flames without his favourite charge nurse. Never mind that she was his most trusted source about his favourite topic. You. 

Right at the end of the middle row a tiny little baby waited for your eager hands. With well practiced movements you scooped baby Purcell out of her bed, cradling her delicate body to yours for a minute before turning to the man next to you. He took a half-step back but you were too fast, lifting the package up and into his impressive arms. 

For a split second fear flashed across his sculpted face before melting into an expression of pure contentment. 

A crease formed between the baby’s brows and your heart lurched with fear that she’d wake up and out your very much against hospital policy activities. But thankfully after a small wiggle she settled down into Robby’s arms (and honestly who could blame her). 

You could have picked up your own little bundle of joy, your favourite L&D nurse had texted you a list of 5 babies who would love to be held, but putting even an inch of space between you and your former attending sent an ache through you. So instead you stepped closer, heart skipping as you leant your cheek against the massive expanse of his bicep. Even through the thick fabric of his navy hoodie and the yellow gown his heat pulsed against your skin sending sparks of electricity down your spine. 

How you’d ever managed to get any work done around this man was one of the universe’s best kept secrets. With his sad puppy eyes and streaks of grey colouring the hair at his temples he was utterly hypnotic. The whole point of this trip was a quick hit of dopamine but it was quickly devolving into a completely different monster. How foolish you’d been to think you could go from not seeing him for weeks to standing side by side in a nursery and not get sucked into the vortex that was Robby. 

The two of you could have been standing there for five minutes or five hours it was impossible to tell. A different kind of quiet had settled over the room, wrapped you both in a bubble of calm. 

“I used to think I might have this someday” 

Robby’s confession rumbled through him, vibrating the thick muscle pressing against your cheek. 

“You still could” 

Your voice was barely above a whisper as you tried to speak around the ache in your throat. 

“I’m too old. Too broken. Wouldn’t want anyone wasting their time on me” he muttered, not taking his eyes off the baby snoring softly in his arms. 

You couldn’t help but blink in surprise. 

“Robby. You’re a very intelligent man but that might be the dumbest thing anyone’s ever said” 

He frowned, accidentally jostling baby Purcell in his arms who let out a dainty squeak of protest but he didn't take his eyes off you. You were staring up at him, eyelashes framing your sparkling eyes with a playful smile pulling at the corner of your lips and for a split second he forgot how to breathe. 

“What do you mean?’ 

He was almost afraid to ask. That you might be laughing at the notion of him ever wanting a family when his career consumed every waking moment of his day and often his nights. That there was clearly something wrong with him if he'd hit fifty and not found someone willing to start a family with him.

“Robby. Any woman would be lucky to have you” 

A bolt of lightning shot through his chest. 

If only you knew. 

If only you knew that from your first shift in the ED he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you. That each time his hand brushed yours during a procedure it took every shred of his self-control to stay upright. That even the scent of your shampoo sent him in to a tail spin and he’d been equal parts ruined and relieved when you’d gone up to the fourth floor, hoping that some distance might free him from this crippling crush. Except that it had only worsened it - leaving him in a constant state of anxiety and relying on Dana for any scrap of information she had about your wellbeing. 

Clearing his throat with a soft cough he turned his eyes back to the little girl and the gentle slope of her button nose, willing himself not to ask the question that was burning a hole in his sternum. But surrounded by fragile human lives with the lavender scent of your shampoo flooding his senses he had no hope. 

“Do you want this someday?” 

To anyone outside it might have sounded like an innocent question but you knew Robby too well. Knew the intricacies of his tone. Something lingered at the edges of it, something deeper that had a jolt of nerves sweeping through your stomach. 

“As many as I can have” you replied, subconsciously leaning further into his arm and his heart lurched against his ribs. 

Of course. You worked in paeds. Naturally you were pro-children but he hadn’t quite put two and two together and the thought of you holding your own child had his stomach tumbling so violently his heart skipped a beat. 

Would he walk into the ED one to have Dana report that you’d met someone? Would he spend every day guiltily wishing that he’d receive a report of your breakup and still sit on the sidelines, too afraid of not being enough for you that it happened again and again until one day the breakup never came and he lost his chance forever? 

How was he meant to live in a world where someone else had the honour of being your man when he was just realising that it was the only job he’d ever want. 

Putting himself first didn't come naturally to Robby. It was his fatal flaw that had been pointed out by his loved ones on more than one occasion but for a single heartbeat he managed to silence the voice screaming in the back of his mind that he didn't deserve happiness long enough to speak the words burning at the tip of his tongue.

“Have dinner with me” 

It was barely more than a whisper but in the silent nursery it was practically a shout. Smiling into the paper gown your eyes slid up to his face to find Robby staring resolutely at the little girl but the scarlet blush growing on his cheeks betrayed his nerves. 

Because even though it was ridiculous - if you said it out loud you’d sound insane - it wasn’t just dinner. 

It was an invitation to a whole different future. 

Michael Robinavitch was a lot of things; brilliant, moody, funny, withdrawn, older. 

And also unequivocally yours. 

And you were his. 

This tension between the two of you wasn’t something awkward or strained. 

It was a question that had waited 2 years to be asked. 

And standing there in the dark nursery with his guarded heart finally cracked open there was only one answer. 

“I thought you’d never ask” 

[chaoticbardlady99]

LADs Fantasy Arranged Marriage AU

I was doing a writing warm up and it grew a life of it's own. This has probably been done a thousand times before but oh well.

Pairings: King! Sylus x Least Favored Princess! Reader, Underdog King! Caleb x Plebeian! Reader, King! Zayne x Beloved Princess! Reader, King! Rafayel x Princess! Reader, Prince! Xavier x High Priestess! Reader

CW: Violence, some families that really suck, uhhhh I don't think there is anything else

All KIND likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Sylus:

You’re actually the one who wasn’t supposed to be marrying Sylus.

You are well known for being the castle's little Heathen with your riding skirts and sword fighting, and metalworking, more of a blacksmith’s wife than a Queen- in the least tasteful way.

It was your baby sister’s duty to marry the very rich Dragon King, but she’s the beloved baby. Your parent’s dearest- they couldn’t marry her off to a monster!

Hence why you are being sent to the literal serpent’s lair and quite likely your death

When you arrive, you’re surprised by how accommodating everyone already is and you fear the worst for when they realize you aren’t actually the bride to be

Sylus is gone to battle when you first arrive- something about the border being attacked- so you end up being pampered and treated like a queen

You learn very quickly that the people living under the Dragon King’s rule are very happy, quirky, and kind people.

You feel like you’re gonna cry on the final night before he comes home because you truly have come to adore “your” ladies in waiting and have felt very welcome by the entire culture around you

Your Knights specifically have grown very fond of you and you of them- Luke and Kieran are like the little brother’s you never had.

When you were brought before your future husband in his private chambers, you were preparing for your death.

 You look entirely different from your sister- different hair and eye color, slightly different bone and body structure. Surely this will be your last night alive.

However, you’re surprised to find that his once irritated expression upon your arrival disappears and turns into something entirely soft and victorious.

“Good, they did exactly what I wanted them to do.”

You find out that it was entirely on purpose- Sylus knew they wouldn’t send your sister willingly, but they knew they would be a pain in the ass if he asked for your hand in marriage.

“Why don’t you want to marry our youngest,” he mocks, “she’s so ladylike and proper.”

You spend the next several weeks together and you fall in love with each other easily- it’s hard to watch him go defend the Kingdom border again, worrying if he’ll come back or not.

He comes back, but he’s injured. You’re the first person waiting to greet him before the drawbridge is even brought down again. 

You help him get cleaned up and tend to his wounds- chastising him for his recklessness- and he smiles through the winces and pain. 

“Will you marry me?” he asks that night as you lay together, entirely unconventional but you had to know he was real and he you, “please be my Queen. Stand by my side.”

“I thought that was the plan, silly,” you teased.

“You will always have a home here, but marrying me and being by my side is a hard choice.”

You shook your head and kissed him sweetly, “no it’s not- it’s the easiest decision I have ever had to make.”

It’s a grand wedding and your whole family is invited- as followers of your Kingdom because Sylus conquered them as your wedding gift.

Your sister is thrilled though- she meets a nice man and it ends up being okay. She isn’t forced into royal duty like she was afraid to be and you both get to spend lots of quality time together.

Your parents, however, ended up in the Gallows after they tried to object to your Union.

Needless to say, you live a long life together- extremely happy and admired by all- and have a headstrong, stoic little girl (Luke and Kieran are great babysitters btw)

Caleb:

You and Caleb grew up in a poor village

Orphans together, you grew up on the streets and became petty thieves together to try to get by

You were the brains, he was the brawn

Eventually he was drafted into the military- they were just dragging people off the streets and he hid you in an abandoned building.

A year or two passed and the war ended, but Caleb hadn’t come back and you accepted that he may be gone

You struggled to live- having to turn tricks in brothels and take questionable jobs that probably should have taken your life a thousand times over

Another year passes and there is suddenly a massive war horn and an army from an unfamiliar flag charging the Kingdom. 

You were running through the Alleyway when you were cut off by a man on a white horse (yes, I had to, okay?)

You back against the wall and try to make yourself as small as possible as the man makes his way over to you.

When he takes off his helmet, you can’t help but burst into tears as you look at the man you thought disappeared from your life forever

He looks healthier, stronger, and still like his old goofy self, but a bit more steely.

“You are as beautiful as I remember you being,” he whispered before kissing you, “now I feel whole again.”

Caleb immediately makes you his Queen and anyone who dares speak of your past is pretty much executed on the spot (in spite of your protests).

Turns out Caleb had been taken Prisoner by another kingdom, bided his time for a year or so, took over the whole damn place, and then came to get you.

He isn’t upset with you for how you survived, he’s more upset with himself for leaving you to fend for yourself and wishes he had acted sooner.

You spend a lot of nights holding him after a nightmare of him being gone and vice versa- you two ached for each other every day and not knowing the other’s fate had been terrifying.

The wedding is gorgeous, everyone attends, and you make Caleb 100 times more likeable in the eyes of the people he took over.

There are whispers of the King being sweet on his Queen- something that hadn’t been heard of in centuries. 

“Caleb! You need to wait until I’m done gardening or I’ll never lie with you again!”

You’re the only one who gives the King a hard time or lip- the castle staff is pretty much gaping with shock everytime you command him around.

It’s even more jarring that the King listens like an obedient puppy.

There is the occasional uprising and nonsense, but overall, you both live a happy life and run an even happier kingdom- your love for each other is felt by and seen by all.

And if anyone forgets, they have your twin boys causing mischief in the townsquare to remind them.

Rafayel:

You and Rafayel had been betrothed since you were both in diapers.

You both hated it.

You never met one another, but it’s all anyone could ever seem to talk about.

“Do this for your husband that” and “your queen won’t like that” this

Both of you were so fed up that you were both considering having the other one assassinated so you didn’t have to go through with it. 

You accidentally meet each other at a party and talk for a whole hour before realizing who the other person is

It’s a fun conversation- you enjoy his company immensely and he yours

Then you find out who each other are and it’s like watching two Betta fish in the same tank

The wedding is stunning, but rigid and even the warm ocean air couldn’t bring any joy to this union.

But it wasn’t because you were unhappy to be marrying him, in fact, it’s the opposite.

You thought about your conversations that night religiously- the way he smiled, the sound of his laughter- how he made you laugh.

You didn’t realize that he felt the same way, but both of you are being dumb as hell and pretending to be unhappy with the marriage rather than the gaping loneliness. 

It’s about a month into your marriage that Rafayel finally breaks.

He storms into your chambers one day and is ready to give you a piece of his mind when he finds you crying.

“I-I’m sorry yo-you don’t want me, your Highness.”

Oh it could not have been further from the truth.

You hadn’t consummated your marriage yet, but that night you did

Rafayel showed you over and over again how much you mean to him- how much he desires you.

Sometimes you do get heated and fight with one another- Rafayel has a tendency to put his needs below others and it leaves you to prioritize him.

Rafayel often takes you to the expensive, private beach home he owns along the far end of your kingdom together

You eventually have two headstrong twin girls and a spoiled mini-Rafayel

Rafayel is a very attentive father to his “little guppies” and you are all often seen together- the entire kingdom is close with the Royal family.

You live a long, beautiful life together with the occasional argument, but Rafayel always brings a bouquet of flowers to apologize (even if he isn’t necessarily in the wrong).

Zayne:

You come from a weaker, smaller Kingdom that celebrates spring and you love where you live. You never wanted to leave.

You are their only daughter- the youngest of 9 boys. 

The King in the Arctic has requested your hand in marriage

You’ve only met him a handful of times at Galas in other kingdoms, you have never had any desire to visit the Arctic.

You spend your last day in your Greenhouse and enjoying the warm sun

Your mother sobs as she bids you farewell and your father won’t look you in the eye

The trip is borderline freezing, but a carriage and horses more fit for the snow intercept your caravan.

It’s your betrothed- Zayne- he was worried about your journey and wanted to ensure your safety and comfort.

The carriage is warm and donned with warm furs but you’re still extremely homesick.

You try to make the most of it and you try to be enthusiastic about planning the wedding

He says you can invite your family and already has designated guest rooms in the house for all of them to visit whenever they want.

You and Zayne don’t spend much time together- it always seems like he has an excuse to leave the room when you enter.

It’s extremely lonely- you miss your brothers, your parents, your greenhouse.

The week before your wedding, Zayne finally speaks to you for more than thirty minutes, in fact he takes your entire afternoon.

He takes you to a gift he’s been working on and cultivating for weeks- a Greenhouse with all of the plants you adore from home and a garden outside with plants that thrive in the cold.

“I am… not the best with expressing my emotions,” he says softly, “I hope this conveys how much you being here at my side means to me.” 

Your wedding is like a winter wonderland- your entire Kingdom comes and Zayne promises to protect your hometown and you with his life during your vows. 

You learn to love the snow and Winter holidays like Yule and New Years

You become an ice skating expert, you often take long evening strolls through the garden with Zayne, you spend your evenings curled up together next to a fireplace with a book or him with his reports.

He blossoms with marriage- the once shy man who was afraid to be around you is ravenous for your company, both physically and mentally.

You spend everyday being treated like a Queen and you treat him like a King in every sense of the way.

Your opinions are valued and you have made lots of changes for the Arctic kingdom- including creating more trade routes and ensuring safe spaces for the Hunters incase they get snowed in.

Zayne could not be more proud of the Queen you have become and the man you have encouraged him to be- he is often seen smiling now which was bizarre to the Kingdom’s people for the first year and a half (especially when he was passing out spring flower baskets with you).

The Arctic begins to host a spring festival, but never on the same day as your hometown. 

Zayne takes you back home every year for the spring festival and eventually your three young daughters come along with you.

Xavier: 

You are a High Priestess in your Kingdom- a seer and Prophetess of sorts.

Xavier is the Crowned Prince who is supposed to be looking for a bride.

He is introduced to the cherished Princess of your Kingdom, but he only asks about you.

You try to explain that you are a High Priestess- you aren’t to marry- but that only seems to encourage his need to sweep you off your feet.

Xavier leaves your Kingdom as an enemy to the Kingdom (you don’t just reject the Princess), but he continues to send extravagant gifts to you and Holy objects. 

You start exchanging letters and against your common sense, you fall in love with him and you desire to be with him.

You spend months feeling a sick guilt and a rush of adrenaline- your secret love affair with the Prince of an enemy kingdom created an inner turmoil in you that you had never felt before.

The Princess, however, was still very upset about being rejected and noticed that the High Priestess was recently wearing very beautiful jewelry- not the humble bullshit of the church.

Your room was ransacked by the King’s men and they found your correspondences.

Your trial isn’t very long- the evidence is damning.

You’re doomed to hang following your treason.

You dream of Xavier saving you at the last moment, but you chalk it up to wishful thinking.

You are being walked to the Gallows when the canon fire begins.

The Kingdom is under attack!

The guards rush you to the Gallows- the King demands your death and maybe this kingdom will leave them alone when they realize their prized High Priestess is dead.

The rope necklace is heavy- as heavy as your chest as tears rain down your face.

You think of Xavier- your light, your Prince. You wish you could have seen him one final time.

Your dream comes true- Xavier saves you just in time- sending a flash of light through the rope right as they dropped you.

You hit the ground, but he’s by your side in an instance while his soldiers arrest the King, the Princess, and the rest of the Soldiers.

“I got here as quickly as I could,” he touches your face, unsure if you are real at all, scared he didn’t actually make it in time, “I will never let anyone harm you again.”

And he didn’t

You went from being a High Priestess to a crowned Princess, but you were still sought out by the Kingdom folks for fortune telling and religious counsel.

Your wedding is gorgeous (for the obvious reasons), but because Xavier’s brother is ahead of him for King, you become Duke and Duchess in a smaller town within the Kingdom boundaries and live in a rustic, cozy cottage together in a beautiful neighboring Kingdom.

You are beloved by your subjects- you and Xavier both- and are very close with them.

The day your baby boy is born, the entire kingdom celebrates- from the tiniest village to the biggest castle.

The light of your union shines in every corner of your shared Kingdom. You live a long life together and people far and wide believe you were divinely brought together.

The economy of the small town you live in is booming- you and Xavier ensure that everyone is well fed and taken care of.

Oh and people learn not to flirt with you pretty quickly- the first and last guy lost his pinkie.

[mommyslittlebird]

I’m a person who struggles a lot with eating, as I don’t really like food. I survive mostly off of nutrition shakes on the nights where I find myself unable to stomach anything else. So the idea of a woman going through the process of induced lactation to feed me is so heavenly. To clarify, I know this isn’t actually how it works, but this is a work of fiction inspired by the yearning fantasy of a girl with mommy issues.

Cw: breastfeeding and other mommy issue related ramblings

*****

I come home after a long day, weary and tired. I have to eat but the last thing I want to do is have to force some food in my mouth. So I go to find her on the couch, reading.

“Mama?” My voice is sheepish and quiet. Not nervous, but just a little embarrassed by how badly I need this.

She puts her book down, peering up at me over her reading glasses. She smiles when she sees me. Despite my exhaustion, I can’t help but smile back.

“What is it, darling?” She asks, concerned when she recognizes my sorry state. “Come here, baby. Tell mama what you need.”

I walk over to the couch, resting my tired head on her shoulder. She takes my hand into her lap, running her thumb over my knuckles. Her brow pinches with concern. “Oh honeybee, you’re shaking. Have you eaten?”

I bury my face in her shoulder and shake my head. Of course she could tell immediately. My shaking always gives me away. It gets so much worse when I haven’t eaten.

“It’s okay, baby. We’ll get you some dinner. Maybe a sandwich? I have some leftover pasta in the fridge. I could butter up an English muffin if you’re not feeling well,” she lists, trying to come up with something that I might be able to stomach.

I wrap my arms around her, shaking my head against. “I can’t, mama,” I mumble into her shoulder.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she coos, kissing the my hair and cradling my head. “That’s okay. Mama’s got you. Come here. Lay down on my lap and we’ll get you all taken care of.”

I shift until I’m sitting across her lap, perpendicular to her with my legs draped across the couch cushions. She’s already sliding her shirt off, reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra. She pulls my head in close, nuzzling my nose against her soft skin.

“Go ahead, angel,” she croons, scratching my scalp with her pointed nails.

We both hum pleasantly as my lips wrap around her nipple, immediately starting to eagerly gulp down her milk. I am addicted to the taste: to the warm feeling of her essence sliding down my throat, warming my and nourishing me from the inside.

She chuckles. “Slow sips, angel,” she gently corrects. “Let your stomach adjust. You don’t want to get a tummy ache.”

I whine, but I obey, slowing to a rhythmic suckling that makes her toes curls. She has to close her eyes for a moment just to take a deep breath. “That’s it. Keep going. Just… just like that,” she stammers, tensing up against the couch. “You make mama feel so good when you do this, you know? Feeling your tongue and… knowing that I’m inside of you… filling you up… fuck… just knowing that you need me like this… and I can feed you from my own body… and make sure you stay full and healthy…”

It truly is so rewarding to her, to watch me grow instead of wither under her loving guidance. There is something about feeding me with something from her own body: knowing my body was growing from her, breaking down nutrients from the milk she supplied and using it to fuel me. I was hers even on a biological, cellular level.

My stomach rumbles, whining with the relief of being fed after going through the day empty. She lifts the hem of my shirt, splaying her fingers out over my soft torso.

“There you go,” she says. “Mama’s got plenty of milk, baby. Take as much as you need.”

My eyelashes flutter again her, tickling the soft skin of her chest. My eyelids are starting to droop and go heavy. She looks down to find my hands curled against my chest, doing soft kneading motions into the air like a kitten massaging its mother. Something about the warm milk, or maybe the soothing suckling, seems to lull me into a trance every time.

“Shhshsh,” she soothes, running her hands through my hair. She knows I might be exhausted after working all day. “Don’t fight it, sweetheart. Rest those tired eyes. Mama’s got you. I’ve got you and I’m never letting go.”

[kosmogrl]

No offence but that other anon is right.

I had no idea about your personal life/romantic life for the longest time and you give off seriously straight energy here. Maybe it because you never post about anything relating to queer people except maybe reblogging a big viral post a couple times a year? Maybe it's because you seem to have a long term boyfriend that you don't care or think about women anymore, or issues related to queer people since you effectively do not live as one. I don't know. But it's surprising because you post so much about your intimate feelings and life and reblog all sorts of quotes and posts of all kinds... and anything about being into women is never mentioned. Nor do you ever seem to reblog posts explicitly about queer people, or even quotes by famous ones when you reblog such things. Just an idea why maybe people think you're straight. Your blog is incredibly heteronormative, and so is the picture you have painted of your offline life. Nothing here at all even hints at your bisexuality.

And that's fine if people want to keep it a secret for safety or something. But considering how much you share about everything else, I would assume your feelings and thoughts about being queer in this world would come up more frequently. So...

I don't think it's right to assume that just because someone doesn't suspect you (a stranger online) might secretly be bisexual, they're biphobic. You never talk about it. The vast majority of the human population is straight, so for better or worse that is the default assumption unless you come out and say/behave otherwise.

There is nothing wrong with being straight. It's not an insult. Nobody can control their sexuality and if you're straight, it's okay. I know tumblr likes to be edgy and talk shit about "hets" but most of the world is, and you don't need to be ashamed of feel pressured to ID as bisexual just to be cool on tumblr.

Since we're on the topic ...finally! Maybe a get to know you? The real you? Then people can't pretend anymore.

Who was your first crush? Who are your current ones? How old were you when you realized you were romantically and sexually attracted to women? How many girlfriends have you had? Were any serious? Has a girl ever broken your heart? Which do you prefer boys or girls, if either? Do you find they kiss differently? This is juicy info inquiring fellow bisexual minds want to know! Is your queerness why you left the USA? How do you feel living as an immigrant as a queer woman? Does it make it more difficult? Does your boyfriend know or are you in the closet irl? If you are in the closet, why? Society? Family?

Sorry it seems like a lot but you dropped a bombshell and this feels like a whole new you, and i think we all want to meet her! <3

hey so I wasn’t even gonna reply but i’ll just let you know this is insane. have a nice day

[monzabee]

father figure - a. hotchner

criminal minds masterlist ||

Summary: hotch meets a mysterious woman on a solo night out, and realizes that they both have daddy issues.   

Pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: mentions of daddy issues, age gap, kinda suggestive, allusions to sex and one night stands 

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Hotch couldn’t tell you the last time he’d been in a bar all by himself—he just couldn’t. When Haley was still alive, the operative word being alive, they would have the occasional and very rare date night to go to a bar together, sure. And he did try to participate in the team outings as much as possible as a single father. But the last time he was in a bar, alone? Now that seemed like a lifetime away.  

But some things never change, he supposes. The whiskey still burns down his throat after each sip, something so comforting in a way he couldn’t quite explain. There’s still some football match playing on a TV somewhere in the bar—as he could hear the announcer and the occasional outburst of cheers or groans from the booths behind him. The lighting is still dim, low enough to make people feel like their mistakes might not follow them home. And the music—an old Springsteen song bleeding faintly from the speakers—still manages to make everything feel just a little more cinematic than it really is. 

He likes that. The illusion of meaning. 

Aaron Hotchner isn't the kind of man who does things spontaneously. Everything in his life—every choice, every movement—is measured. Precise. But tonight, he finds himself wanting not to think. He doesn't want to calculate or lead or fix. He just wants to be. 

That’s when he notices you. 

You’re seated two stools down, legs crossed, fingers lazily circling the rim of your glass. You look like you belong there—like the bar is an old friend, not a crutch. There’s something magnetic about you: the way your lipstick’s slightly smudged, the way you watch the world with a kind of detached curiosity, like you’ve already heard every story and none of them have surprised you in a very long time.  

You feel his eyes on you before you see him. “Careful,” you say, still looking straight ahead. “Staring too long might make me think you’re interested.” 

Hotch smiles behind his glass. “Would that be a problem?” 

You finally turn to look at him. He’s handsome—sharp suit, tense shoulders, tired eyes that look like they’ve seen too much. You can tell immediately that he didn’t come here looking for trouble. Which makes you want to be it more than anything. “Depends,” you say, cocking your head slightly. “Are you the type to make polite conversation, or the type to make confessions?” 

He considers your question like it’s a riddle. Like you’re a case file. Then he adds, “Depends on which you’d prefer.” 

You smirk. “Confessions, then. Polite conversation is for people who plan on remembering this in the morning.” 

His brows lift—just barely. Enough to give him away. “So you’re not planning on remembering?” 

“Oh, I’ll remember,” you say, taking a sip of your drink. “But I’m not expecting anything more than the night.” 

There’s a flicker in his eyes. Interest? Intrigue? Maybe even relief. He shifts in his seat slightly, closer. “Alright then,” he murmurs. “A confession.” You raise a brow, nodding for him to go on. “I haven’t done this in a long time,” he says. “I don’t even know why I came here.” 

You lean in, whispering conspiratorially loud enough for him to hear. “That wasn’t much of a confession.” 

He glances at your lips, then your eyes. “Fine,” he says. “I came here because I didn’t want to go home. And because sometimes, drinking alone in a crowded room feels less lonely than being in your own house.” 

That shuts you up for a second.  “Okay. Now that’s a confession.” You nod slowly. Then, think about his answer for a bit, and giggle while adding, “A bit poetic too, are you a poet?”  

“No, definitely not.” He laughs softly. You tip your glass in a silent toast, and he mirrors the gesture. “You?” he asks. “Your turn.” 

You shrug, swirling what’s left of your drink. “I have a habit of liking older men. Usually ones with tragic backstories and sharp jawlines.” 

He chuckles—quiet, low in his chest. “That sounds specific.” 

“Huh,” you hum, taking a generous sip from your drink, “is it?” You roll your eyes subtly to the unamused look he attempts to give you.  

His mouth twitches again, like he’s fighting back a smile. “Do you say that to all the older men in bars?” 

You feign offense, hand over your heart. “Only the ones who look like they haven’t smiled in a decade.” 

He exhales a curt laugh, and for the first time tonight, it reaches his eyes. “And what does that say about me?” 

You lean in slightly, resting your elbow on the bar. “It says you’re overdue.” There's a silence for a brief moment, and your eyes curiously watch over him as he takes a few steps closer to you and place himself onto a nearby stool.  “Your turn again,” you murmur as you push your glass towards the bartender for a refill, not breaking eye contact. 

Hotch considers you carefully, like he’s weighing whether it’s worth crossing a line. Then, with a voice quieter than before, he says, “I think... if I were twenty years younger, I’d ask for your number.” 

You smile. “You think age is the problem here?” 

He doesn't answer right away. Just watches you, eyes dark with something unspoken. “I think you’re dangerous.” 

That makes you grin—genuine, mischievous. “Funny. I was going to say the same about you.” Then you gesture to his suit, “You’re either an accountant or a spy, and I don’t peg you for someone who has much interest in numbers.” 

He watches you for a beat, something sharper slipping into his gaze. His voice drops lower—barely a murmur between you. “How’s your relationship with your father?” 

You blink, startled by the shift. “Not particularly great, why?” 

A slow smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “We’re going to get along great.” 

You nearly choke on your drink, laughter bubbling out of you. “Jesus,” you whisper, setting the glass down as you catch his eye. “That was a bit on the nose, don’t you think?” 

He shrugs, unbothered, eyes still pinned to yours. “You said confessions, remember?” 

You lean closer, fingers ghosting over the rim of your glass again—only now you’re not fidgeting. You’re daring. “Alright then, confession number two: I’ve never wanted to kiss a man as badly as I do right now.” 

Hotch doesn’t move for a second. Then he shifts on his stool, knees brushing yours beneath the bar. “That so?” 

“Mmhm.” You tilt your head. “But you strike me as someone who doesn’t do casual.” 

“Normally, I don’t. But tonight, I think I’ll make an exception.” There’s a beat, a shared breath, and then he’s reaching out, fingers brushing the underside of your jaw, guiding you to him like he’s done it a thousand times before.  

The kiss is slow, precise, controlled at first. But it doesn’t stay that way. Your hand fists in the front of his suit jacket, dragging him closer until it’s mouths and heat and the steady thrum of restraint slipping between your teeth. When you part, breathless, you stare at him like you’re not sure whether to laugh or drag him into the nearest dark corner.  

“You wanna get out of here?” he asks, voice low. 

You glance at the untouched rest of your drink, then back at him. “Thought you’d never ask.” 

[kedreeva]

I think one of the funner things about Kpop Demon Hunters is that the relationship between Rumi and Jinu doesn't HAVE to be read as romance. It can be, of course, and most people will read it that way, and it may be intended to be... but actually it isn't integral to everything else they are, nor to the choices they make. Whether it's romantic or not doesn't change how meaningful it is, and in fact in this case actually feels as if romance would lessen it all.

Let me explain.

Behind a cut because spoilers.

We learn right at the start that Jinu is a 400 year old demon that, according to the demon king, has never - not in /400 years/ - done anything that didn't serve himself. Which is the whole reason he's a demon- because he literally threw his own mother and sister under the bus to go live in the palace.

And for 400 years, he's believed that, well, y'know, he's guilty. Which he is! He did do the thing, and he HAS put himself first for four centuries. But he also believes it is his nature that landed him there, not his choices. And you can't change your nature. The scorpion always stings the frog.

Then this 20-something kid turns up, and everyone's at a fork in the road with her. Either Rumi succeeds and turns the honmoon golden and all the demons are fucked (trapped in the demon world forever with no humans to feed on) or someone stops her and is the savior of the demons. Perfect opportunity to form a demon boy band and wallop the hunters but good at their own game, and if he can leverage it to get something he wants, well, it's in his nature.

At the start, he's totally on board with this plan. Plain as day he's amused that he can get under her skin. He's just fucking around. Like, if he loses he's no worse off than before and if he wins then he gets acclaim and fortune. Literally no downside here. She's just one more human he can destroy to get something he wants. He actually fights her in the bathhouse that first showdown, claws out and everything.

AND THEN.

And then he sees her Patterns, the mark of the demon king on her skin.

He has to RAPIDLY come to terms with the fact that this random-ass human is... actually not human. That she is at least part demon. And she is hunting demons. Which is NOT in a demon's nature. And he's GOT to know more, and he can't do that if she's found out by her friends and has to deal with that (also maybe she'll owe him one for not exposing her).

Because OBVIOUSLY she must just be covering up her true nature for some reason. So he pries, and he teases her, and over and over finds that... actually she's just a good person.

But more than that, she believes he can be a good person. HE knows he can't be a good person - 400 years of history has shown him that, it's in his nature! - but... maybe actually he wants to believe her. Maybe he wants to pretend for a little while that he could be good, if she will lead the way. "I'll make sure the Saja Boys lose tonight," he tells her. Until Gwi-Ma gets to him again, reminds him that he can't be anything else but a demon, that he would have told her the truth if he really thought he could be free if he was himself.

400 years of buckling under the weight of his guilt wins out, and he turns on her.

She's exposed. Her friends reject her. Her fans turn to him and the honmoon dissolves. Even her godmother turns on her. Whens he finds him, she asks him why he did it, and he rejects her, too. He tries to tell her the same thing he was told- she's a demon. He can't change his nature and neither can she, so just give in, because you can't fight it. All he deserves is the suffering he's earned, it's all demons deserve. All she deserves. She has nothing except every reason to turn into a demon and join them. To turn on all the humans who deserted her and serve herself.

And at his final show, he watches from the stage as Gwi-Ma stands tall and proud of brighter than he's been in centuries and mocks her where she stands in the shadows, Gwi-Ma attempts to use her worst fears against her: she cannot save herself, her friends and fans have all seen her for who she truly is, the honmoon she was supposed to turn gold is gone.

And he watches as she agrees.

And he watches as she says none of it matters. It doesn't matter that she's part demon. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks of her. It doesn't matter what has been done in the past- she's going to forge a new honmoon now, she's going to fight back now, she is going to protect others now.

Can you even imagine.

The Good Place had it right: What matters isn’t if people are good or bad. What matters is if they’re trying to be better today than they were yesterday.

She's told him all through the story. You can be good, you can be good, you made mistakes, but you can be good. You can choose to be good. "that's the funny thing about hope, no one else gets to decide if you feel it." And she stands in the shadows and agrees that everything has gone wrong, but she puts her foot and and pushes back anyway because no one else gets to tell her it's hopeless. She made mistakes, but what matters is not those choices, it's the next choices.

And the next choice she makes is to kick Gwi-Ma's ass.

And for the first time in 400 years, this guy does something that isn't self-serving. He puts himself between Gwi-Ma and Rumi. He knows damn well he's not going to survive it. He knows that if he doesn't, Gwi-Ma will reward him for being instrumental to the success of the demons taking over the world and getting rid of the hunters. But he's watched her choose to act in ways counter to her nature, to be who she WANTS to be, and she's told him he can do that if he wants, and this is the last chance he's going to get either way.

So he takes it, and she doesn't tell him she loves him- she tells him she wanted to save him. Part of her had wrapped up his freedom in the definition of success. She needed to save him because "If there's no hope for you, then what hope is there for me?" Saving him had become a part of saving herself. Saving him had become a part of saving the world because she wants him to be in her world- literally, in her world and not the demon world.

But she did save him. She gave him hope. She showed him that he can choose to be good. That his past only matters if he lets it control him. You can't change your past, can't destroy your shame, but you can choose to do better. You can be good NOW.

And he chooses to.

Maybe he doesn't believe he can be good, but maybe he hopes. Maybe he hopes he can give her the chance he didn't get, to be good.

We see the way souls light up. We see how they make connections. The honmoon is all about connection. She's already forged the honmoon anew when she reconnected to her best friends. They forged the shield, and he gives his soul to her instead of Gwi-Ma so that she can forge a blade as strong as both their souls together, and she immediately uses it cleave the demon king in half.

Are you kidding me? That's totally killer imagery.

And right after she went to her godmother and asked to be killed before she hurts what she swore to protect. After we see how she has been told her whole life that what she is, it's shameful and she needs to change to be worth anything. She can only be someone once her patterns are gone.

And he hands over his soul to her because that isn't true. She's someone NOW. She matters NOW. She wanted to set him free, and she did. There was hope for him, and there is hope for her.

idk man, idk. romance is good and all, but "well of COURSE he would do that because they're in love" feels like a cop out. It feels like "of COURSE this would happen because that's the nature of love" in a movie whose whole thing is that a person's choices are more powerful than their nature.

Maybe he was in love, maybe she was. I don't think it matters. What matters is that they both finally chose freedom together. They showed one another how to be free of the thing that has trapped them for so long, and in doing so, saved each other.

[mydeimoed]

Casual sex with Mydeimos... I wonder what it would be like to be friends with benefits first.

Perhaps it was through you and the way your friendship (relationship?) turned out that Mydei realized just how starved for intimacy and touch he really was. It turned his world upside down entirely that you were an option. You were there, this real physical person that he could touch whenever he wanted. If he mindlessly reached for you, his hand trailing up your back, you wouldn't question it. Just lean into it. Give him that familiar look as you ask him if he's hungry.

It isn't often that Mydei gets to touch another person in this way. Something gentle and achingly simple, instead of torn and bloody. He finds that he prefers to touch you than for you to touch him- it isn't anything against you. He's a warrior who's bled and fought more than he's slept, and you reaching for his hand without warning will never feel comfortable (not yet).

But in the context of sex- sex is different. Touch is desired and expected here, so once the two of you find your way to bed- or whatever other unlucky surface you can find- then he can say without hesitation that he wants you to touch him more. To never spare a moment without that boiling source of contact and connection.

In fact, the more that this "beneficial relationship" goes on for, the more greedy Mydei finds himself becoming. For someone who was once so uptight and rigid beneath you, he slowly transforms into this needy little thing. Demanding in his own way, as much as he was allowed to be.

Perhaps it's no surprise that Mydei fell for you. There was an understanding that your physical relationship was casual, but because Mydei wasn't one to simply go out and find a partner- for so, so many reasons- you were his only outlet. This wasn't mutually exclusive, and he respected that. As much as he could, because he respects you.

Mydei cannot commit himself to you. He can't promise you anything because in the end he's a Prince to a struggling city- and don't even get him started on his supposed demigod status. The only way he really feels like a demigod is the fact he cannot be human- he cannot simply relax and let go, he cannot join the masses in love and relaxation because there is so much more he has to do. Especially for his people, who rely on him, who need him to succeed.

All this frustration- because yes, after you wore him down and yelled and pushed him enough, he finally admitted of course I am frustrated- it definitely comes out a few times during your time together. It's nothing cruel, if anything it makes the sex better. More painful for Mydei, perhaps, because when he's done fucking you with all that rage you always run your hands through his hair and kiss his temple and say does that feel better now? Maybe it does. Maybe it feels worse and makes his heart melt in a way it's not supposed to.

But you aren't going anywhere. Like this, no commitment, you're still his ally. His friend. Even if he finds himself thinking idly about how dangerously content he would be if you were in his bed not only to spread yourself but to relax and recover, he doesn't need it. Can live without it, has lived without it. It's better if you remain friends, he thinks. He knows how to do that, at least he thinks he does. And it is less likely that he will hurt you like this than if he tried to be a lover, and less likely that you will leave. Isn't that better?