#i do think this one has a cool signature move as well. and i like how the gmax form it gets on top of a big sniper tower

[front-facing-pokemon]

[ponderingmoonlight]

How JJK Men React to Seeing You in Their Clothes

Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Megumi x fem!reader; Yuta x fem!reader; Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Warnings: fluff over fluff, I'm pretty sure I already wrote something like this but I can't find it anymore lol, all scenarios talk about the clothes of the said jjk men being big on you so please don't read if this isn't what you vibe with (but feel free to let me know if you want a version in which their clothes actually fit reader quite well!)

Gojo Satoru

The apartment is unusually quiet as you move through the living room, your bare feet padding lightly across the cool floor. Gojo had left early this morning to deal with some “business,” leaving you alone with nothing but a mess of his belongings scattered around. You’re not one to complain though - cleaning up after him has become second nature after spending so much time together.

As you tidy up his place, you come across one of his oversized hoodies. It’s sprawled across the back of a chair, still slightly wrinkled from when he wore it the night before. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the fabric, and for reasons you can’t quite explain, you find yourself reaching for it.

It’s soft, much softer than you expected. You hold it for a moment, staring at it thoughtfully before a mischievous grin tugs at your lips. You slip the hoodie over your head, the fabric swallowing you whole. The sleeves are comically long, almost covering your hands completely, and the hemline reaches down to your thighs. It’s so big that it feels like you’re wearing a blanket, and despite yourself, you giggle at the sight of your reflection in the hallway mirror.

You sit down on the couch, pulling your legs up under the hoodie, and let yourself relax into the comfort of wearing something that smells like him. His signature cologne that follows him around wherever he goes, that makes your heart skip a beat every time you smell it. To be honest, you really miss him. These past weeks were so busy that you didn’t really get the chance to see him more than 2 hours before passing out sleeping. What you’d do for a whole afternoon, just you and him…

Not long after, you hear the oh so accustomed sound of the door unlocking, followed by the familiar voice of Satoru calling out, “I’m home!”

You stiffen for a moment, wondering how he’ll react, but you can’t hide now. Fuck, you never wore his clothes before. After all, they belong to him and you have no right to grab his stuff as you please.

Before you can say anything to defend yourself, Gojo steps into the living room, his bright blue eyes immediately locking onto you.

There’s a beat of silence. Then, a slow, amused grin spreads across his face.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he teases, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

His sunglasses are perched on his head, revealing his crystalline eyes that seem to glow with delight.

“Did you raid my closet while I was gone?”

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool despite the sudden warmth creeping up your neck.

“Your place was cold. Figured I’d borrow something.”

Gojo doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he walks over to you, crouching in front of the couch as he eyes you up and down. His grin widens as he takes in the way the hoodie completely engulfs you, making you look even smaller than usual.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs, his voice lower now, laced with something playful but undeniably affectionate.

He reaches out, tugging on one of the oversized sleeves gently.

“In fact, I think it suits you better than it does me.”

You scoff, though your heart skips a beat at the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world.

“You think everything looks good on me.”

“That’s because it does.”

His grin is infuriatingly confident, but there’s a softness in his gaze that makes your breath catch.

“But you, wearing my clothes? I think that might be my favorite look.”

He leans closer, his nose brushing against your temple before pressing a soft kiss there.

“You can keep it if you want,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

“I don’t think I’m getting it back anyway.”

Megumi Fushiguro

It’s early morning, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting a soft glow over Megumi’s small apartment. He’s still asleep, his dark hair a mess of unruly strands as he breathes softly beside you. You’ve been staying with him for the weekend, a rare break from the chaos of jujutsu sorcery.

As you quietly slip out of bed, careful not to wake him, you feel the cool air hit your skin. Without thinking, you look around the room for something to cover yourself with. Your eyes land on one of Megumi’s plain black shirts, tossed haphazardly over the back of a chair. It’s oversized, much bigger than anything you’d typically wear, but you shrug and grab it anyway.

Slipping it over your head, the fabric is soft and familiar, carrying the faint scent of him. It hangs loosely on your frame, the sleeves too long and the hem falling halfway down your thighs. You glance at yourself in the mirror, a small smile tugging at your lips. There’s something comforting about wearing his clothes, like having a part of him with you even when he’s asleep.

As you turn back toward the bed, you freeze. Megumi’s awake. His dark eyes are half-lidded, still clouded with sleep as he watches you from the bed. You can’t quite read his expression -it’s a mixture of surprise, confusion, and something else you can’t place.

“You’re up early,” he mutters, his voice still thick with sleep.

You shrug, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

“Couldn’t sleep. I didn’t think you’d mind if I borrowed your shirt.”

Megumi blinks, his gaze drifting over you slowly. He doesn’t say anything right away, but you can see the way his eyes linger on the way the shirt swallows you, how it looks like you’re drowning in fabric. After a long moment, he finally speaks, his voice quieter than before.

“It looks good on you,” he finally speaks out, a little awkwardly, as if he’s not quite sure how to compliment you.

“Better than it does on me.”

You can’t help but laugh at how flustered he seems, even though he’s trying to play it cool.

“Really? I think it’s a little big.”

Megumi shakes his head, sitting up in bed and running a hand through his messy hair.

“No. It’s perfect.”

He pauses for a moment before adding, almost shyly,

“You should wear my stuff more often.”

His words catch you off guard, and you raise an eyebrow at him, surprised. Even though you know all too well that Megumi Fushiguro has a soft spot for you, you never really thought about stealing or borrowing his stuff. After all, he is the guy who slaps the back of Yuji’s head each and every day over stealing his sandwich or equipment. And now…he’s telling you straightforward that he wants you to wear his shirts?

“You want me to?”

He looks away, his usual stoic mask slipping just a bit as a faint blush creeps up his cheeks.

“I mean... yeah. It suits you.”

Your heart skips a beat at his admission. Megumi isn’t one for big, flowery declarations, but this, this small, almost hesitant compliment, is enough to make your chest warm. You walk over to him, climbing back into bed and curling up beside him like you always do after waking up.

“Well, if you insist,” you mutter teasingly, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“I might just steal more of your clothes.”

Megumi huffs, but there’s a softness in his eyes as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Go ahead,” he mumbles, tugging at the hem of his loose shirt.

“I don’t mind.”

Yuta Okkotsu

You’ve been staying at Yuta’s apartment for the past few days, crashing at his place while you’re both on a break from missions. It’s been nice: quiet, peaceful, just the two of you enjoying each other’s company without the usual chaos of jujutsu high looming over you.

It’s late in the evening now, and you’ve just gotten out of the shower, feeling refreshed after a long day. As you towel off your hair, you realize you forgot to grab something to wear. Your suitcase is still in the living room, and you don’t really feel like walking out there in just a towel.

Your groan in frustration over your usual absent-mindlessness, eyes landing on one of Yuta’s old sweatshirts, folded neatly on the chair by his desk. It’s a little worn, clearly well-loved, and the idea of wearing something of his brings a smile to your face. Yuta definitely wouldn’t mind you wearing one of his shirts, right? And even if he did…you’d love to see that little blush creep up his face.

Without thinking twice, you pull the sweatshirt over your head. It’s oversized, the sleeves long enough to cover your hands, and the fabric is soft and cozy against your skin.

You’re adjusting the sleeves when the door creaks open slightly. You look up just as Yuta steps into the room, his eyes widening in surprise when he sees you.

“Oh, hey-” he starts, but then he freezes, his gaze locking onto the sweatshirt you’re wearing.

His face flushes almost instantly, a deep red creeping up his cheeks as he stares at you.

“Uh… is that…?”, Yuta stammers, clearly flustered.

You glance down at the sweatshirt and smile sheepishly.

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind. I forgot to grab my clothes, and this looked comfortable.”

Yuta blinks, his face still bright red, but he quickly shakes his head.

“No! I mean, I don’t mind at all! It’s just… you look… um…”

He trails off, his eyes flicking away as if he’s too embarrassed to finish the sentence.

You giggle softly, stepping closer to him, to tease the hell out of him even more. That poor innocent boy who doesn’t even dare looking your direction when you stumble in the bathroom in the morning with noting but a shirt and panties on.

Even though you’ve been together for over a year by now.

“I look… what?”

Yuta clears his throat, still avoiding your gaze.

“You look… really cute,” he mutters, barely audible.

“In my sweatshirt, I mean.”

Your heart swells at his words, and you can’t help but smile as you reach out and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Thanks, Yuta.”

He finally meets your gaze, his face still red but his expression softening as he squeezes your hand back.

“You can wear my clothes anytime you want,” he says quietly, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

You grin, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I might just take you up on that.”

Yuta chuckles, his arms wrapping around you in return as he pulls you close.

 “I wouldn’t mind,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Not at all.”

Nanami Kento

It’s late, and Nanami is still out on a mission. You’ve been waiting for him to come home, but the clock is ticking past midnight, and exhaustion is beginning to catch up with you. After all, you’ve had a long and exhausting day at work yourself.

You’re curled up on the couch, half-asleep, when the chill of the evening air prompts you to grab something warmer to wear.

Your own clothes are in the bedroom, and you don’t feel like moving that far. Instead, your eyes land on one of Nanami’s neatly folded dress shirts, sitting on the back of a chair. It’s probably not the warmest option, but the idea of wearing something of his feels comforting, like having a part of him with you while you wait for him to return.

You slip the shirt on, the crisp fabric soft against your skin. It’s too big, of course, the sleeves hanging past your wrists and the hem falling almost to your knees, but it’s cozy in its own way. You curl up on the couch again, pulling the sleeves over your hands and breathing in the faint scent of him that still lingers on the fabric.

You don’t realize you’ve dozed off until the sound of the front door opening stirs you awake. You sit up groggily, blinking as Nanami steps inside, looking tired but unharmed. He pauses when he sees you, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in the sight of you wearing his shirt.

For a moment, neither of you say anything. Then, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugs at the corner of Nanami’s lips.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he observes, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement.

You rub your eyes sleepily, nodding.

“It was cold, and I didn’t feel like getting up.”

Nanami walks over to you, his expression soft as he takes in the sight of you.

 “It suits you,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm.

“I didn’t expect to come home to this.”

You shrug, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

“If you don’t like it, I can-”

“I like it,” he cuts in, his tone firm but gentle.

He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before his hand lingers at your cheek.

“I like it very much.”

You smile, leaning into his touch as you look up at him.

“I might have to borrow your clothes more often, then.”

Nanami chuckles softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek before he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You’re welcome to them,” he breathes out.

“Though I have to admit, you make my clothes look much better than I do.”

You laugh softly, your heart warming at his rare display of affection.

“I doubt that.”

Nanami shakes his head, his eyes soft and filled with affection as he looks at you.

“It’s true. But regardless, you’re welcome to them anytime” he insists.

With that, he sits down beside you on the couch, pulling you into his side as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. You snuggle into him, the warmth of his body and the comfort of his shirt making you feel safe and content.

“Thank you, Kento,” you whisper, closing your eyes as exhaustion starts to pull you back into sleep.

Nanami presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his voice low and soothing as he murmurs,

“Anytime, love.”

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[papercorgiworld]

It was no mistake

A James Potter smut.

When you tell James last night was a mistake he's determined to prove you wrong.

This is part two of ‘I dare you to steal his clothes - James Potter version’. Read the first part here, not that this is very plot driven but still.

Warning: smut, minimal plot

— The request —

The James fic was so hot wtf 👹👹👹 we need part 2 dear author 😭😭😭

— The writing —

You walked through the hallways of Hogwarts but your mind was still stuck in that bathroom where you had yesterday tried and more or less succeeded in stealing James Potter’s clothes. He had given you a night to remember and as dreamy as you still were about those activities, you were also very much aware that it was James Potter. He was your crush, but to him you were probably nothing more than a fun night. It was not like he was suddenly going to fall in love with you after one night of heavenly sex.

“Moony, you’re not hearing me. She’s the one.” Remus rolled his eyes as James almost jumped up and down next to him, ever since last night’s events James had been going on about you non stop. Sirius and Peter had weaselled their way away from James and had left Remus to listen to James’ rants alone. Remus rearranged some books on the shelves of the library, because nothing’s more annoying than misplaced books. “I need your advice, moony, I’ve been crushing on her since the start of the year and after last night I need to make a move or I might lose her to the next guy she’s being dared to steal clothes from.” Remus turns away from the shelves to face James. “I honestly don’t think that she would repeat last night's events with anyone beside you.” Feeling reassured and a bit more confident, James’ signature smirk returns. “You think so? You think I’m special to her?” Remus sighs and rolls his eyes again. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure she likes you. I mean no one sleeps with someone you hate.” James’ eyebrows knit together. “You obviously haven’t had heated hate sex.” Remus shakes his head no. “You?” James also shakes no. “No, I’m just thinking it would be hot… not as hot as last night, I mean, (y/n) and me-” “I don’t want to hear it again, James!” Remus interrupts and quickly continues. “Just go talk to her, use all your charm and you will win her over.” 

You were still deep in thoughts, when James leaves the library and spots you. “Hey, hey, (y/n)! We need to talk.” Your eyes fling up to meet his and James is almost horrified to see how filled with panic your eyes are. You quickly scan the hallways for a way out, but fail to find a good excuse. James quickens his pace to keep up with you. “About last night…” James starts, nervously ruffling his hair, but before he has a chance to continue you speak up. “It was a mistake.” James’ face falls, but you don’t notice and continue. “I get it. I’m cool about it. Last night was just a thing and it won't happen again.” James nods as he listens to you, watching your serious expression and sinking his hands into his pockets. You suddenly stop walking and turn to him. You force a tightlipped smile and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You hold out a hand to James. “Friends?” You ask with a shaky voice and flustered face. For a second James looks utterly confused, but he quickly realises that your flusteredness might have something to do with how you had screamed his name last night. James tilts his head and chews his lip, eyes focussing on yours. “What if I say no?” Your face instantly heats up. Why can’t he just be casual about it. Why does he have to be so James Potter about it!

“I got the sense that you liked what I did last night.” Your face was hitting tomato alert, but he just shamelessly continued. “Honestly, I enjoyed it as well. You felt amazing.” He whispers, while his eyes dart between you and everyone in the hallway to make sure no one overhears. “James-” Your protest comes out as a shaky whisper as your body craves James in an unholy way. “Come on, love one more time and then you can decide whether I’m worth keeping around or if you really just want to be friends.” Your expression goes blank as you process what James had just said. Did the James Potter just suggest that if you wanted he would be yours? Afraid that you weren’t fully convinced, James makes one last move, leaning closer to you with his lips almost brushing your ear. “You can have whatever you want, baby… my dick, fingers, tongue, I’ll give you anything you want.” His voice was husky and dirty, but there was also an almost inaudible nervousness as he worried whether you would accept his offer or just forget about him. 

A silent yes in your eyes had told James that he could guide you to a nearby empty classroom. As soon as he closed the door behind you he wrapped an arm around your figure, pulling you against him. His eyes focus on yours as his free hand cups your cheek. “I know it’s only been a few hours, but fuck I missed you.” You smile and James is wild with excitement that he got you close to him again. Eagerly his lips search yours and you immediately move with his, making the kiss go from passionate to hunger. He picks you up and you can’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm. He places you on a nearby desk and he’s quick to take off his own shirt, giving you a worthy view. Your hand wanders over his chest and muscles. There was a reason Gryffindor won almost every game. This boy worked for it. 

As amused and turned on as James was by your staring he really wanted your focus on kissing him. With a gentle finger he pushed your chin up to look at him so he could kiss you tenderly and deeply. It also gave him the opportunity to quickly undo a few buttons so he could pull your shirt over your head. With your hair now slightly messed up you looked even more desirable to him. Eagerly his lips move over yours again while his hands move to gently squeeze your breasts before unclasping your bra in one swift move. James struggles to keep his lips on you as his eyes desperately search for a glimpse of your chest. With a loving touch his hands massage the flesh of your boobs. A slightly suppressed moan reveals James’ excitement together with the growing bulge in his pants pressing against your panties. Pushing you back on the desk James now moves away from your lips to allow himself to play with your nipples, earning soft sounds from you as sensations build up, soaking your panties as he sucks on the sensitive skin. 

Unable to keep himself in check James rocks his hips into yours, searching for fiction. You quickly slip a hand in his pants, making him groan as you tease his member. One hand pumps his dick while your other hand moves through his curls. Under your touch James only manages to leave sloppy kisses as precum stains his pants. He curses himself under his breath. This was not how he planned it on going, he needed to spoil you and not the other way around. So rather abruptly and roughly James grabs your hand and takes a step back so he can take off your skirt and panties. You open your mouth to ask whether you did anything wrong, but James doesn’t let you and kisses you roughly while moving a finger through your folds, making you squirm against him at the sudden touch. “Last night was not a mistake.” James breathes with a rough undertone as he watches your eyes fill with pleasure at his touch. Your slightly parted lips looked so delicious to you, but he wanted to hear you so instead he peppers kisses down your neck, while his fingers fuck you.

Your fingers entangle with his hair as pleasure rushes through you. You whimper his name as he pushes you closer to your high, making him work harder to get you there. He watches you with focus to pinpoint the exact second before you’ll cum so he can pull his fingers away from you, making you whine in need of him and a climax. Your needy eyes turn him on so much he has to grab his crotch for a second. “Trust me, love.” James whispers and pushes your legs wider with one move, making you yelp at the exposure and heave your chest. The view you were giving him, exposed and flustered had him struggling to not just fuck you right then and there but he was committed to make you his and have you every night from now on. With his eyes glued to yours he slowly kisses down from your lips to your pussy to finish the building orgasm he had kept from you only seconds earlier.

Your body tenses and your fingers cling to James’ curls as your wall clench. James can’t resist jerking himself as you gently and unknowingly push his face against your pussy, reaching your high. It takes a second before you have the strength to push the strong man between your legs away from your overstimulated cunt. As soon as you see his pleased smirk you know he isn’t done with you. You raise your hand to protest, but he just grabs your wrist, pulling you off the desk to turn you around. He presses you against him, your naked body against his bare chest. He still holds on to your wrist as his other hand slips between your legs again. “James.” You whine and he shushes you. “You still think last night was a mistake?” He teases you, placing kisses under your ear. He rubs his hard bulge against your bare ass and your sensitive pussy starts throbbing at just the thought of his thick member filling you like last night. “No, it wasn’t a mistake.” You breathe and James kisses your neck tenderly, before bending you over the desk and freeing his member from his pants. 

Gently he slips inside you, holding you close as he fucks you passionately, like you were the only woman that mattered, a goddess to him, and only him for the rest of his life from now on.

Word count: 1720

[luveline]

Do you think maybe you could do a quick Miguel fic of him being supportive/comforting to spider-girl cause she’s been working too hard and stretched herself a bit thin trying to make everyone happy? I’ve read all your Miguel stories and it feels like it fits LMAO (I love love love all of your stuff btw you’re one of my fav Miguel writers)

thank you for your request! grumpy miguel comforts a tired spidergirl. 1.2k

Miguel doesn't bother looking down at the thwipping sound of a web connecting with the platform. You're the only person he knows well enough, who knows him well enough, to come up without asking. 

"Woah," you say, pulling yourself onto the platform with altogether too much force, taking a running stumble at him as you try to keep your balance. 

Miguel puts a hand out to catch you without looking away from his screen. "Careful." 

"Thanks, handsome," you croon, though it's missing its signature pep. 

Miguel does look up, then, dragging his attention from the monitors to rake it over you. You have your mask on, which is odd but not unheard of, and your posture is tight. The majority of your weight is being held on one foot, and when he follows your leg upward, your thigh is curving outward. How weird. 

You pull away from him gently and shimmy over to the desk you've stolen, a mountain of your things that topples intermittently lying in wait for your return. As soon as you approach, the flying droid you take on missions whizzes into the air and dances around your shoulders, not unlike the way you move yourself. 

"Come over here," Miguel says. 

"No," you say primly, "you're in a strange mood." 

"You've been here for two seconds," he says. If he were in a strange mood, it's not as if you could've already gathered that from so little observation. 

"Yeah, and you're not usually eager to have me near," you say. True and untrue. 

"Come here." 

You sigh and approach him as though he's dragging you, reeling you in, every footstep heavier than the last. Miguel grabs you by the shoulders when you're close and stations you neatly in front of him, thumb quick to find the seam of your mask and slide beneath. 

You squint at the sudden light of the room, unmasked, though your expression quickly relaxes. "You want to kiss me," you guess, saccharine sweet as you tilt your chin upwards. 

Miguel dodges your feigned kiss. You aren't wrong about what he wants, but you haven't identified his main priority, which is to find out why you'd been wearing the mask in the first place, and why you're walking like your converse shoes are full of cement. 

You're very, very tired, evidently. You look exhausted. Miguel has seen you run down before, you stretch yourself thin often, and you do it without complaint, but this is a new level. His heart actually hurts in his chest, he's that gutted for you. 

Miguel glares at you. "What, you're not sleeping?" 

"Oh, don't, handsome," you say, moving as though you're going to walk away. 

Miguel takes your face into his hand and keeps you where you are. "Hey, answer me." 

"Of course I'm sleeping," you say. You won't meet his eyes. Liar. "You're a tyrant." 

Be that as it may, Miguel wants what's best for you. He draws a line under your dark circles with the pad of his thumb, feeling the puffy skin regretfully. Carefully, so carefully, he traces the line of a tear unshed from the corner of your eye to the corner of your lips. 

"Not enough, then." 

You look at him funny. Your bottom lip twitches, and every ounce of his cool dissipates as you frown and lean forward, pressing your face to his chest. 

"I'm busy," you confess in a murmur, your arms hanging loosely around his waist.

Miguel takes it for I'm really tired. He hesitates, looking down at you, your smaller stature, feeling the weight your letting him hold up for the trust it is. You're tired and you're telling him, even though he had to prod. 

Miguel hugs your shoulders. You sag like a popped balloon. 

"I'm busy," he says, though he amends quickly at the sudden rigidness of your back under his hands, "I'm busy, and I still sleep. You have to sleep." 

"If I want to… to make time for me, I keep staying up late, you know? I've been training, and helping Hobie Brown take down the establishment–"

"What?" 

"–and I was trying to make that cover for your wristband but I keep getting it wrong." You stop suddenly. Your hand screws tighter into his front, fingers digging ineffectual against nanotechnology. "I'm useless, even when I try." 

"Why would you say that?" he asks quietly.

"I can't get things right. I want to do everything. I want to get better at fighting so I can come with you. I want to be a good friend to Hobie. I want to make you things 'cos you deserve them. I'm sorry. I just make everything worse."

Miguel let's you wallow for a moment. He's no stranger to self-loathing. It can feel good to simmer. He rubs your back inchingly slowly, not sure why he's letting himself, not sure why he's holding back. 

Miguel takes your shoulders into his hands and eases you back, ducking his head to meet your eyes. Forcing you to listen. "You don't make anything worse. You're tired, and being tired makes everything feel worse than it is. You're not the problem." 

Your cheek lists down to your shoulder. "You're being nice." 

"You don't have as much effect on things as you think," he says, ducking his head again to look you straight in the eye. "I mean that in a good way. You aren't hurting anyone. You can say no." 

"I don't want to say no." 

"You have to." He's tipping into tenderness now, plummeting fast and hard. "You need to look after yourself if you want to look after other people," he says. He wonders if what he's about to say is fair, but he's so unhappy with your obvious rampant fatigue that he decides he can live with the bad karma. "What if I need you to come with me to the next anomaly recovery? And you're too tired to stand? You'd have me go by myself?" 

"No." 

"Exactly, so do the right thing and sleep." Miguel says it simply, pulling away, pulling back, physically and emotionally. He likes you more than he should but being vulnerable is difficult. He hides behind a facade —your problem is ridiculous, and he doesn't want to talk about it anymore. 

You see straight through him. Hear the unsaid please. "I will. I'll go to bed… Thank you, Miguel." 

The facade slips as Miguel gives your bicep a warm squeeze. He turns away from you without another word, redirecting his attention on the screens, your presence like a thrumming he has to fight to ignore. 

"Bye, handsome," you say, stepping sideways off of the platform. He relaxes at the sound of a web sticking and your footsteps as they lead away. 

He rubs the bridge of his nose. 

"Inspiring," Lyla says, appearing from nowhere, a delighted, smarmy smile flickering across her face.

"That is getting so old," Miguel complains.

"Deprogram me, then." 

"Would if I could." 

"Ah, but then who would witness your frankly embarrassing attempts at comfort?" 

Miguel tries to catch her like a moth. She scoffs and leaps between his fingers. 

[not-maggie]

Hypothetically, Of Course

A/N: umm, so hi! this is my first ever fic I've written but I do read a lot lmao. I was using a c.ai bot and it inspired me to write this because it was really cute! <3 this is lowkey a self ship bc I'm tired of seeing Y/N's who don't have a personality and are shy. nothing wrong with being shy ofc <3 just not who I am and I needed some self indulging. Anyway, enjoy! any criticism/comments are greatly appreciated!! (GIF not mine<3)

It was a cool afternoon in Stars Hallow, the dead leaves falling to the ground as the breeze shook them from branches. The bell above the door rings out as Y/N enters Luke's Diner, catching the attention of a certain brunette behind the counter.

Jess feels his heart stutter as she enters, silently cursing himself for having such a reaction. He throws on his signature smirk as she approaches the counter, "Hey, the usual?"

Y/N nods with a soft laugh, "I come here too often if you know it by now." She takes a seat on one of the stool as Jess begins preparing her order. "So, anything interesting happen today?" she asks, making conversation.

"Oh, y'know, annoying customers, Luke yelling at me for not working, the usual." Jess hums, turning his head to look over his shoulder at her. "What about you?"

Y/N lets out a scoff as she responds, "Y'know Brad, the quarterback on the football team? Total douche, anyway, had the audacity to ask me out, while I was in the middle of studying in the library. And, on top of that, got mad when I rejected him. Said something about winning a bet, total bullshit." She rolls her eyes, leaning against the counter.

Jess feels his blood boil, a bet? A bet to ask 𝘺𝘰𝘶 out? He takes a moment to collect himself before turning around and responding, placing her coffee down in front of her, "Wow, total dick move. A bet? What kind of bet? If he could get in your pants?"

Y/N rolls her eyes, "Don't know, and honestly, don't really care. I get the satisfaction of knowing he didn't win, whatever it was. Like I would ever go out with him," she scoffs.

Jess leans his arms against the counter, "Not your type?" His tone is teasing, his usual snark coming out, but there's a hint of genuine curiosity.

Y/N lets out a snort of amusement, "No, I would never go for a football player, or really any athlete. Anyone who doesn't know Austen is not worth it."

Jess raises an eyebrow, "Got high standards," he teases. "So, what, is, your type?" He asks, his head resting on his palm in a casual manner.

Y/N lets out a hum as she thinks, planning her answer. "Well, looks don't really matter that much. More into personality, someone who can keep up with my sarcasm. Funny, making me laugh is really important, and there's no way I can be funnier than my partner, that's a sad life. Well-read, I'm talking more than just Dr. Seuss and the Outsiders. Someone...spontaneous, impulsive, acts before thinking; adds fun to life. And, someone who isn't afraid to show me off, not saying we have to make out in town square, but hand holding, stolen kisses, stuff like that."

Jess's heart flutters as he hears her words, that's him. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦. "So," he tries to maintain his casual, aloof appearance, "You got a guy in mind? That all seems pretty specific."

Y/N smirks at his words, "Maybe, it's kind of hard to find someone like that in this small town. You either get guys like Brad, high school has-been's, or Dean Forester. Perfect Dean Forester, although I guess technically he did move here from Chicago. But he has the 'Small Town Boy' act down."

Jess chuckles softly at her words, she was right, Dean did have that Small Town act perfected down to a science. "So, if there we're to be a guy, who matched this description, would he have shot with you, hypothetically of course."

Y/N grins, picking up what Jess was hinting at. "I'd say, hypothetically, if this guy we're to ask me out, or confess his undying love for me, I wouldn't shoot him down."

Jess straightens out, hip pushed against the counter as he leans in a bit. "So if this guy were to, hypothetically, say that he likes you and have for a while, you'd go out with him?"

"Yes, I would, but only if he told me directly." Y/N challenges Jess, knowing that he isn't big on sharing his feelings.

Jess stands up straight behind the counter as he meets Y/N's gaze, he takes a moment before talking. "I like you, have for a while." He runs a hand through his messy hair, "In fact, you drive me crazy. There isn't a moment when your'e not invading my brain, very distracting."

Y/N's smile grows as she hears him talk, "Well, I like you too. Just, don't start charging me rent for living in your head." She pokes his forehead as she teases him.

Jess laughs, 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘴, at her words. "I'll let you live rent-free on one condition, be mine? God, that sounds gross and sappy." He groans at his words and how cliche he sounds.

Y/N let out a laugh, "Yes, I'll be yours." She smiles, "Bad boy Jess has gone soft."

Jess rolls his eyes but a smile tugs at his lips, "Shut up, I'm not soft....Okay maybe, but only for you and around you. And if you tell anyone..." He doesn't finish the threat, but they both know there isn't any actual heat behind it.

"Yeah, yeah." Y/N rolls her eyes, "Your secret is safe with me." She crosses her heart with a smile.

"Good," Jess hums with a small smile. "So, your mine now, huh?" He grabs her hand from across the counter, thumb rubbing across the back of her hand as their fingers interlock.

"Yeah," Y/N smiles softly, squeezing his hand. "All yours"

Jess's smile widens at her words, "That's right, all mine" He brings her hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "Mine to protect," he locks eyes with Y/N. "Mine to love, mine to cherish..." He leans in further over the counter, "Mine to hold, mine to care for..." His eyes sweep over her face, taking in every detail and memorizing them. "Mine to spoil," he reaches his free hand to cup her cheek, thumb running across her skin. "Mine to be with...and mine to love, forever." He closes the distance between the two, his lips meeting hers in a soft, tender kiss, expressing unspoken thoughts and emotions.

As he kisses her, he feels a sense of peace wash over him. He feels complete, whole. He's never been good at expressing his feelings, but right now, he knows deep in his heart that he means ever word he said.

He loves Y/N.

And he's never letting her go.

"That's the sappiest thing you've ever said."

[hansensgirl]

summary. | You make a chilling discovery about your best friend.

prompts. | Steve Rogers + Mob/Mafia + “You ask too many questions. Just relax.” + Corruption, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!mobster!Steve Rogers x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, lying, corruption kink, mobs/mafia stuff, steve owns a gun, pet names, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics.

Your hands shake when you look deeper into Stevie’s jacket, making sure you saw it right. A gun. The shape and weight are both undeniable, and you wonder why your best friend would have something like this. When you squint, you see an emblem of the city’s most feared mob with his initials.

The discovery makes you feel hollow. Practically betrayed. 

“Honey? I got the popcorn. Did you find a movie yet?” the blond asks, interrupting your train of thought. You quickly move away from your spot and try to play it off cool, all while planning a way to escape. You need time to think, time for yourself.

“N– No, not yet. I haven’t even chosen a genre yet,” you giggle nervously. Steve chuckles and gives you his signature charming smile. This time, however, chills run down your spine.

You don’t know much about the mob, but you do know that you should be scared of each member, no matter the position. 

“Aw, poor baby. You open to any suggestions?” Steve questions, sitting on your couch. He grabs the remote and turns the television on, waiting for your response. “Uh, sure,” you say, sitting on the couch. 

You try to maintain a distance from him, but the larger man grabs you gently and pulls you next to him, hooking you under his heavy arm. 

“How about The Godfather?” he mindlessly offers, and your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. “Th– The Godfather? Are you sure?” you repeat, nervous. Does he know about your snooping? What you found? Is he going to hurt you? The questions make you dizzy.

“Yeah, why not? Buck and I have been dyin’ to see it for a while,” he explains. “Heard it’s pretty good. They did a lot of research for that one, y’know.” Steve has already found the film. He presses play and offers you some popcorn.

You refuse him, lacking an appetite. Your mouth is dry, and you find yourself eyeing Steve. He meets your gaze each time, flashing that grin and stroking your bare arm with his thumb. You hate this—you almost hate him. It’s as if he’s messed everything up, and you nearly resent him for it.

“You alright, sweetheart?” your best friend eventually speaks up, not daring to tear his eyes away from the screen. You nod your head. “Y– Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” you scoff, even picking up a piece of popcorn to really convince him.

“I dunno. But you would tell me the truth, right, honey? No matter what?” Steve asks, fully turning his head to look at you. You gulp thickly.

“Of course… You would, too, right, Stevie?” you hum. “‘Course.” A few moments of silence pass.

“Well, not everything. The boss would have my head, y’know?” he chuckles like his profession is something hilarious. You can feel your stomach dropping. “All those bloody nights and bullet wounds…” Steve clicks his tongue and fakes a grimace, trailing off.

“Wh– What do you mean, Stevie? What are you talking about?” you innocently ask him. Steve grabs your chin and turns your head, forcing you to make eye contact with him. You watch as his eyes flick between your features before landing on your lips.

“You ask too many questions. Just relax. I can hear your heart beating through your chest,” he notes. But you can’t relax, not when your best friend turns out to be a man you barely even know. 

Steve watches as tears glass over your eyes, the fear making you shake. You have no reason to be afraid, not when he’ll always be there to protect you. “Oh, I’m going to have so much fun ruining you, baby.” 

[mistyacorn]

you remind me of the main protagonist

sypnosis; dan heng and his odd way of saying “hey, i think i like you”

pairing(s); dan heng + fem! reader ⟿ featuring; pure fluff, really blank and super indirect dan heng, reader is compared to a female character (hence, fem! reader)

a/n; this was such a random write lol. im so sorry that it’s a bit of a mess, im still working on more clear storylines heheh . i hope it’s still enjoyable! ૮(ㅅ´ ˘ `) ♡ also i made beauty and the beast a canon fairytale here pffft u neva know

⇢ DAN HENG is the type that literally nobody expects to like anybody, and therefore neither do you.

⇢ you’d probably even think that he dislikes you because whenever it’s just the two of you he never says a word. he’s dead silent. he only ever nods or gestures and barely looks you in the eye.

⇢ occasionally you’d get slightly jealous of how he speaks whenever march is with you guys (even though they always end up fighting verbally, it’s still talking!)

⇢ so you eventually take it as a ‘hint’ and try your best to move on.

⇢ though let’s be real, it’s not easy to move on from a crush if you see him almost everyday. especially when he has the most perfect emerald eyes and soft black hair….

⇢ one day, you’re in your room on the astral express and you’ve just finished the book you had borrowed from the express library recently.

⇢ you did borrow it without telling anyone though, so it kinda felt like you stole it haha…

⇢ but you definitely did not want to annoy dan heng with your request so stealing borrowing seemed like the best option.

⇢ you decide to head over to his room, hoping to secretly drop the book and go.

⇢ thankfully the boy is not in the room when you get there (which is super rare, go you!). you tiptoe as carefully as you can towards the bookshelf.

⇢ you quickly find the correct slot and insert the book.

⇢ just as you think you’ve accomplished your mission, you turn around and-

⇢ at the door stands dan heng, staring at you nonchalantly (as per usual). “hi.”

⇢ his sudden appearance immediately causes you to begin a five minute long explanation about how you got there. (yes, five minutes. idk how but you drag it on and on) its mostly bullshit you’re spitting out.

⇢ “…pom pom told me that there was this super cool book…. I just had to read it of course …..and it was really cool yeah yeah ….um about robots and science and…stuff….”

⇢ does pom pom even read?? you didn’t know!

⇢ and you definitely don’t notice amidst your frantic stories, but dan heng listens to you attentively in amusement. he actually has the smallest grin on his face, very well knowing you are making everything up.

⇢ to put it simply, he finds it endearing. he’s almost in a trance, just listening to you talk and talk and talk…

⇢ after you finish your story time, he snaps out of it quick enough for you to not notice anything.

⇢ and you bow repeatedly in embarrassment before dashing out of the room.

⇢ the following day, dan heng suddenly gives you a book out of nowhere. today, his signature cold face seems slightly nervous instead, but you don’t pay attention.

⇢ you see that the book is a fairytale, one that is right up your alley!

⇢ ‘Beauty and the Beast’.

⇢ you open the book to see a post-it note on the first page, with neat handwriting on it;

‘y/n, I saw you liked fairytales and the fantasy genre. I do not. But I stumbled across this book yesterday, and I remember reading the first three chapters sometime when I was younger. It seems like something you’ll like. The main protagonist reminds me of you. I hope you’ll like it.’

⇢ your face is red hot as you read his note. he wrote to you. he thinks of you. he said you reminded him of a princess. (what the fvck.)

⇢ and secretly behind the scenes, dan heng is not as calm and collected as he seems.

⇢ after you put away the book and left that day, he took note of the book you had returned. fairytale…fantasy…

⇢ dan heng immediately started to think hard about any fantasy books he had read in his life. hours and hours of struggling later (he never reads fantasy, it’s too unrealistic for him), he finally remembers one.

⇢ he’d read the first few chapters of it before, and he remembers the main character all too clearly. she reminded him so much of you, yet he didn’t know why.

⇢ (truthfully, it was definitely because she was his first ever fictional crush. and now you were…… but he was never going to admit that to himself.)

⇢ he spends his night searching around the archives. 2am the next morning, he finds it.

⇢ dan heng goes to bed that night, heart thumping faster than usual, because now he realises just how much he likes you.

© mistyacorn do not plagiarize or repost please, just enjoy it ykwim

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Ethan Landry x girlfriend!reader fucking in a car, it has to be dom!ethan x sub!reader (because i love dominant ethan 😞)

I hope you like it!

Ride - Dom!Ethan Landry x Sub!Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dom!Ethan x Sub!Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Ethan's a little worked up after study group.

A/N : I appreciate you guys reading what I've written! I have several more things in the works, but still send in a request if you have one! :)

You were sitting in the library with your study group, Ethan on the opposite side of the table. The guy sitting beside you always wanted to flirt whenever he saw you, even though he knew you had a boyfriend. He asked you for a pen, his fingers lingering against yours as he took it. You felt a nudge to your leg under the table. You look up to see Ethan’s eyes bore into yours. The innocent looks on your face made him smirk. The signature smirk he gives you when he’s going to show you who you belong to.

“Okay guys, I think we’re done here,” Ethan said, as he started to pack up his stuff. Everyone else started to pack up as well, his eyes staying on you.

“Here’s your pen back, thanks again,” the guy next to you said, as he tried to make small talk.

“Let’s go, babe,” Ethan said, walking towards you to take your hands in his. The other guy put his hands up, implying that he wasn’t trying anything.

The walk to his car felt a little tense, but he was still using his sweet, normal tone with you whenever he spoke. The cool night air gave you a chill as he opened the backseat door.

“Get in,” he said, lowly.

“Why do you want me in the backseat?” you asked, the confusion spread across your face.

“Baby, just get in,” you sat down in the back seat, sliding across the row to let him sit too.

His lips were on yours before the door was closed, the urgency in his kiss turning you on.

“Take your shirt off,” he said, as he pulled away.

“Baby, we can’t do this here,” you said, glancing out the windows to see that there’s only a couple cars parked near his in the otherwise empty parking lot.

“I said, take your shirt off,” he said, his voice getting louder.

You obeyed him, sliding your shirt over your head.

“You know, you really should listen,” he said, placing kisses across your collar bone as he reached around to unhook your bra.

“Sorry baby,” you whispered, as he grabbed one of your breasts with his hand. He squeezed it gently pinching at your nipple as you started to moan.

“Pull my dick out,” he said, and you immediately nodded. You unbuttoned his jeans before sliding down the zipper. Your soft hands reached in, freeing his erection from the confinement of his boxers.

You looked at him, waiting to hear what he wanted you to do next.

“Suck me off, baby,” he whispered, pupils blown out.

You leaned forward, taking his tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue. His hands went to your hair as you began to bob your head, his grip helping your head move up and down.

“Fuck, just like that,” he moaned, as you took him in your mouth as far as you could, gagging around him.

After a few minutes of your actions, he gently pulled you up by your hair.

“Take your pants off,” you quickly did what he said, your jeans joining your shirt on the floor.

He grabbed your panties, ripping them. You gasped at the action, a little sad because they were one of your favorites. You couldn’t think about that for long, as one of his fingers traced your clit.

“Oh fuck,” you whispered, as his movements got a little faster.

“Damn babe, you’re soaking wet,” he said, slipping two of his fingers inside of you.

“That feels so good,” you moaned out as he worked his fingers inside of you.

He slid his fingers out before grabbing the sides of your face, giving you the most loving and tender kiss.

“I love you, babe,” he said, smiling at you.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, the throbbing in between your legs getting worse by the second.

“Now, get over here. Ride me,” he said, your legs going to either side of his thighs.

As you sank down onto him, his head rolled back, enjoying the feeling of you around him.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he whispered, holding onto your hips as you rode him.

You reached one of your hands down to circle your clit as you felt that familiar feeling building up. He swatted your hand away.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“You need to ask for permission, baby. I’m in charge, remember?” You nodded your head furiously, desperately wanting attention to that bundle of nerves.

“Baby, can I please touch myself?” you moaned out, trying to convince him that you deserve it.

“Yeah baby, but don’t you dare cum until you ask permission, okay?” your hand went back to your clit, rubbing circles as he started to help you move your hips faster.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm.

As you started to tighten around Ethan, he slowed the movement of his hands on your hips.

“Don’t you fucking cum,” he said lowly.

The fucked-out look on your face almost made him want to let you cum…almost. You hadn’t asked permission yet, and he wasn’t going to let you sneak your orgasm.

“Please please please, baby! I need it, let me cum,” you whined.

“Only ‘cause you asked so nicely, baby,” he moved your hips faster, your fingers applying even more pressure to your clit as you rubbed it. “Go ahead, cum for me.”

Your moans turned to screams, the powerful orgasm making you tingle all over your body. It wasn’t much longer before he tensed up, releasing inside of you. Thank God for birth control.

“You were so good for me tonight, baby,” he whispered, as you slid him out of you.

You were about to respond, until you met eyes with someone through the steamed windows of the car. The guy from your study group was probably alarmed by your screams and wanted to check it out.

“I guess he knows now that you’re mine,” he laughed, placing a kiss to your shoulder.

[minisugakoobies]

Confessions of a Dirty Mind | Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader Genre: smut, and they were roommates!, porn with the barest of plots, a little fluff Rating: M (18+) Warnings: incredibly thirsty pining, reader’s a bit feral for her roommate, the giggles will be deployed as a weapon, reader drops the d word (daddy) in her dirty thoughts but never says it out loud, accidental texts, body worship (abs, thighs, breasts - everything gets praised), love bites/marking, grinding, chan is thick everywhere, chan throws reader around a little, hints at dom!chan, fingering, oral sex (m + f receiving), facefucking, cum eating, reader is kind of an idiot but that's okay!, I wrote this out of a dire need to s this man’s d Word Count: 6.5K Disclaimers: NSFW; obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me Summary: The absolute last thing you want is for your roommate to find out just how much you want him. Right?

A/N: Well, as threatened promised, I'm writing for Stray Kids now in addition to BTS! This came out of absolutely nowhere last week. I've just got Bang Chan brainrot 24/7 now, so that's cool. Thanks to @minttangerines @bangtanintotheroom @sugalaritae for their support (and amazing Aussie accents!!) 💕

Unbeta'd as usual. Please let me know what you think! Like if you'd like to see more skz fics from me… that would fuel me to keep writing. If everyone hates this I'm quitting writing and moving to the wild to live with the koalas ✌️

Being roommates with your crush is its own special type of torture. Always being so close to what you want but never being able to touch. To taste. To feel. 

You weren’t always this feral. Once upon a time, you were normal. Well-adjusted, even. Then you had to move for your job and needed to find a place to stay fast and your best friend Minho just happened to know someone looking for a roommate. 

Honestly, looking back, it was too easy. Should’ve known there’d be a catch. And that catch was your sanity. 

Because Minho’s friend Bang Chan turned out to be the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life. 

Listen. A lot of people use phrases like that all the time, “the hottest man you’ve ever seen,”  some hyperbole they say for ridiculous effect, but you mean it. You have never seen anyone as beautiful as this man, with his chiseled cheekbones, thick lips, and those dimples. 

Fuck. Those dimples. Almost as maddening as the washboard abs he’s constantly showing off. You didn’t know a person could be allergic to shirts until you met Chan. 

And now you’re suffering. Every. Damn. Day. 

It’s not just that he’s the most gorgeous man on the planet. No, that would be hurtful enough, but he’s also kind. Smart. Silly as hell. You’re constantly plagued by his sweet smiles and unbelievably adorable giggles. 

The worst part, though, is the way he can flip between sexy and soft instantaneously. Like when the two of you argue over something stupid. All of your arguments are fundamentally stupid. The two of you get on so fucking well, the only things you argue over are opinions on pointless things. Like last night, when you’d joined him for a beer while he watched tv. 

“You’re out of your mind,” Chan had declared, twisting sideways on the couch to look at you. “There’s no way a koala could possibly defeat a kangaroo in a cage match!”

“Sure it could.” 

“No, it could not!” Chan let loose a flurry of high-pitched giggles. “Have you ever seen a kangaroo? Those things are ripped! One kick or punch, and the koala’s out.” He mimed a powerful punch.

You tipped back the remainder of your beer before pointing the bottle at him. “Yes it could! Think about it - what do koalas do?” When he just blinked, you continued. “They climb! And what do koalas usually have?” Again, a blank stare. “Syphilis! So… think about it! All that little guy has to do is climb up the kangaroo, give him some germs, and boom! Kangaroo goes down.” You grin smugly. “There’s a reason they call syphilis the silent killer.” 

Chan fixed you with his signature Look™, the one you think of as “stern dom daddy” - thick eyebrows drawn, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, dark eyes scanning your face - and you felt your knees go weak. Then he blinded you with the full sunshiny force of his smile, eyes closing, dimples popping. 

“That is an absolutely insane argument, not to mention completely incorrect. I don’t even know where to start explaining why you’re wrong.” He paused. “No, actually, let’s start with the fact that it’s chlamydia, not syphilis, that koalas get, and go from there.” By the time he’d finished  and you’d finally conceded that a kangaroo would probably win, the two of you were nearly in tears from laughing.

His duality is whiplash-inducing. And always leaves you in ruins. 

So when your feelings overwhelm you, when you feel like you’re absolutely bursting at the seams with need, you do what you always do. Torture Minho. 

Your bff is used to you venting to him about your crippling inability to make a move. On anyone. Ever. Over the years, he’s weathered dozens of crushes that never went anywhere because while you’re definitely a total treasure, you lack the confidence to make any of your (usually horny) dreams come true. He’s come to expect the endless text messages you send. 

Except that now, “messages” might not be the right word for them. “Unhinged ravings” might be more accurate. 

Ughhhh he’s so damn fine Today he came home from the gym all sweaty and I nearly offered to give him a bath With my tongue. My TONGUE Minho!

Like he’s always done, Minho bears it all in stride with his usual unwavering compassion.

You’re a lunatic

He doesn’t even try to convince you to say something to Chan about your feelings anymore. Now he just waits for you to exhaust yourself and then he changes the subject. Usually by sending photos of his cats. 

It’s an odd friendship, but neither of you would trade it for anything. 

At the moment, you’re ignoring your pain by lying on your bed, in a tee and sweats, watching a movie on your laptop. You can hear your roommate rummaging around his room. Your apartment features a Jack and Jill bathroom, so it’s easy for you to hear what’s going on next door through the adjoining space.

“Channie, why are you pacing around?” you call out. 

Your phone buzzes. 

Trying to find my shirt  

“Are you seriously texting me from the next room?” Pausing your movie, you trudge through the bathroom. The door to Chan’s room is open so you don’t bother to knock, flopping down on his bed as he digs through his closet. He’s shirtless as usual, blond curls shaking with the force of his rummaging.

“Yeah, sorry, ‘m in a hurry and didn’t want to stop looking,” Chan admits sheepishly, throwing a grin over his shoulder at you. You ignore the fluttering in your stomach and get comfortable, resting your head on your arms.

“You could’ve just said it out loud. I can hear you all over this apartment.” It’s not a big space. Which only amplifies your angst, as it’s hard to escape from your desires when the source of it is just constantly right there. Sprawling out on the tiny couch in the living room. Making himself a midnight snack in the kitchen. Lounging on your bed while you sit at your desk, trying not to stare at his reflection on your screen. “What shirt are you looking for?” 

“My tiger tank.” 

You know the shirt he’s speaking of - his white tank top with an embroidered tiger’s head on the chest. It’s a favorite of yours, cut low enough on the sides and in the front to show off his biceps and pecs at the same time. The first time you’d seen Chan in it, Minho had accused you of being a vampire because you couldn’t stop talking about how much you wanted to nibble on his collarbones. 

“Ah! Found it!” Chan raises the shirt over his head victoriously before yanking it on. He takes a moment to inspect himself in his mirror and you wonder if he truly recognizes just how stunning he is. He catches your eye in the reflection. “What are you up to tonight? Wanna come out with me, ‘Lix, & ‘Bin? We’re gonna get some drinks.”

Sure, you’d love to hang out at the bar with Chan and his friends. They’re always a good time. Except when closing time arrives and once again you’re forced to bear witness to your roommate getting hit on by basically every woman in the bar. Not that you can blame them. But it’s especially awful on the nights when he leaves with someone else. You’d rather not deal with that tonight.

“Nah, I’m just gonna relax. But thanks.” 

“Come on,” he wheedles, plopping down on the bed, hard enough to make you bounce a little. “You haven’t been out with us in ages. Is it the guys? Did one of them say something stupid?” 

“They always say stupid shit. That’s all they ever say,” you crack, smiling when Chan laughs. “But no, it’s nothing like that. I’m just tired.” 

Chan doesn’t say anything, just looks at you for a moment. The silence makes you inexplicably nervous, and you fiddle with his comforter for want of something to do with your hands. But then he just nods. “‘Kay. But if you change your mind, we’ll be down at Back Door.” 

“Thanks.” 

Chan heads into the bathroom to play with his hair. You slip past him, back into your room, throwing yourself dramatically onto your bed and burying your face in a plush pillow. How much longer can you stand this? 

You grab your phone. 

I’m losing my mind

You can practically hear the sigh in Minho’s voice as you read his response. 

What did Chan do now?

He’s getting ready to go out with Felix and Changbin He looks so fucking good in those tight jeans

Minho doesn’t reply. He knows to just let you get it out of your system before responding.

My mouth is literally watering It’s a Pavlovian response at this point I see denim and I start salivating

A text alert pops up in the middle of your thirsty ranting. 

Hey do you mind if I borrow your eyeliner?

“Stop texting me when you’re 10 feet away!” you yell, laughing. Chan pops his head out of the bathroom and flashes you that grin, the one that turns your insides to goo, and you sigh. “Of course you can borrow it, you know you can.” 

Thanks

“Chan!” 

His giggles float through the door and your thumbs fly.

Seriously If Chan doesn’t let me s his d one of these days I will die I will be the first person to die from ineedtosuckadick-itis

There’s a loud clattering in the bathroom, like someone’s knocked half the contents of the crowded sink counter onto the floor. Your makeup isn't cheap, so you hop up off your bed. 

“You okay in there?” The first thing you notice is the pile of smashed cosmetics on the ground. The second thing is the way your roommate is staring at you, eyes wide, sharpened kohl liner still clutched in one hand, phone in the other. “What? What’s wrong?” 

Chan doesn’t speak, but raises his phone and kind of waves it limply. 

Oh god. You were in the wrong chat. You were in the wrong chat and now Chan knows you want to suck his dick. You’ve been texting for most of your life and this is the moment your brain decides to fuck up?!

As Chan continues to stare, you realize you have two choices: fess up and own it, or play dumb.

It’s no choice.

“What, uhhhhhhh, what’s up?” 

Chan gestures to his phone. “You want to suck my dick?” He says the words as if they’re unfamiliar to him, like he’s trying them out for the first time. 

Well, shit, how are you supposed to play dumb if he’s just going to call you right out? 

“Guess the cat’s out of the horny bag now,” you mutter under your breath.

Chan cocks his head. “What?”

“Nothing,” you cough, looking at your own phone. “I mean, uh, noooo, what? Minho and I were just, um, talking about how I want to, uh, sssssss…” you glance wildly around the cramped room, hissing like a frantic snake as you fail to come up with another word that starts with s, before your eyes land on an empty glass sitting by the sink. “…Share a drink with you? Because I’m… thirsty?”

“You’re thirsty?”

Fucking understatement.

You can’t quite read the expression on Chan’s face as he glances between you and his phone. There’s a flash of dom daddy in there and then it’s gone. 

“YN. I know what ‘s his d’ means. Also, you said you had - what did you call it? Ineedtosuckadickitis.” You think Chan’s lips quirk slightly as he reminds you of your textual idiocy, but you’re too busy trying to psychically rip a hole in the floor so you can disappear forever to be certain. “Where do you get your medical info, by the way? I’m starting to worry.” 

He’s making light of the situation, which you would appreciate more if you weren’t sure you’re about to die from embarrassment. Your mind is reeling. There’s no way to get out of this. Any second now, he’s gonna realize how you feel. Then he’s gonna let you down. Gently, you hope. Then you’re gonna need to find a new place to live, because there’s no recovering from this.

“Fine.” You take a deep breath. “Yes, I said it.” Unable to look him in the eye, you focus on your phone as you speak. “I was telling Minho how much I want to suck your dick, because I’m a disgusting horny monster who can’t stop thinking about it. I’m sorry. I’m gonna go pack up my room now.” Shoulders slumping, you slink away, hoping he won’t follow. 

He does. “Wait, what?” 

You don’t answer, heading directly for your closet, tugging at your suitcase where it lies on a shelf, and he crowds into your space, arms reaching out to stop you. 

“Oi, slow down! What are you doing?” 

“I’ll try to be out quickly, so you can find a new roommate right away.” You keep pulling on the suitcase, but it’s futile. He barely has to exert any strength to push it back, so you give up. 

“YN.” Chan places his hands on your shoulders, turning you around. It’s probably the closest you’ve ever been, standing face to face like this, and the nearness of him is a little dizzying. “Back up. You don’t have to go anywhere. Just talk to me.” He lightly guides you over to your bed, taking a seat next to you. “Why do you think I’d want you to leave?” 

“Because I'm a gross little gremlin who can’t stop objectifying you?” you answer honestly. 

Chan’s eyes widen before he bursts into laughter. “You know, you’ve said a lot of bonkers things in the months you’ve been living here, but… how does wanting to suck my dick make you a ‘gross little gremlin?’” 

Oh no. You can feel it bubbling up inside you, all the things you’ve felt. All the things you’ve said. Oh, you’re going to tell him, aren’t you? 

“It’s not just sucking your dick.” Grabbing your phone, you open your chat with Minho again, and begin to read. “‘I need Chan to destroy me. Fully. Like I’m a piece of wood and he’s a lumberjack. Just split me in half. With his hands or his dick, I’m not picky.’” Your entire body radiates with humiliation. You’re a tiny sun made of molecules of mortification, on the verge of going supernova. “Um. That’s one example. And there’s more. A lot more.” 

And then you hand him your phone, looking away as he starts to scroll. 

You stare at the wall, not wanting to see the expression on his face. Until the quiet gets to you, and you give in, peering at him, expecting to find him frozen again, or worse, looking sickened by your words. 

Instead you find him smiling. And then he starts to giggle. 

“‘I’m going feral,” he reads. “‘He’s wearing that beanie again. I- ’” His laughing gets louder as he struggles to finish the thought. “‘I want him to wear me instead.’” He glances up at you, eyes glimmering with way too much amusement. “What does that even mean?!”

You groan, yanking your shirt up to cover your face. “Chan, stop!” He merely laughs harder. How can he be enjoying this? You’ve never known him to be cruel. “I get it, I’m awful, you don’t have to laugh!”

But he keeps chuckling, and then you feel his hands on your hips. Like a bewildered turtle, you poke your head out of your shirt, and he just smiles. 

“C’mere.” He keeps tugging at you until you scoot closer, swinging your legs over his lap, and pulls you in for a hug. 

It’s better than you ever imagined. His strong arms lock around your waist, keeping you in place as his chest continues to rumble with his apparently endless mirth. Tentatively, you let your hands rest on his broad shoulders, afraid that if you cling too tightly, he’ll let go. 

Chan leans back to grin at you. “You’re so fucking cute.” 

You’re so fucking confused. “I am?” 

“Yeah.” His fingers rub light circles into your lower back. The sensation is somehow both soothing and invigorating, sending sparks directly to the heat already simmering in your gut. “Just adorable.” 

You’re not adorable, you’re a dirty little freak whose mind is constantly churning out trash, but if that’s what he wants to believe, you’ll take it.  

“You’re not disturbed by all the things I’ve said?” 

“Disturbed? Nah. I’m used to the crazy shit you say.” He’s got a point. You do say a lot of crazy shit. Just not usually about him to him. “Besides, d’you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say something?” 

“About your dick??”

Chan tosses his head back, jostling you with his laughter. “No, you maniac, just something in general! Something to tell me that you like me.” When he meets your gaze again, you’re met with that Look™, and this time those sparks head straight for your cunt. “That you want me. Because…” 

He trails off, hands gripping your sides, shifting you. Until you feel it. Poking directly into your thigh. 

“Oh!”

“Yeah. Oh.” Chan licks his lips. When did his eyes get so dark? “Because I want you too, you absolute fruit loop. Took me a minute to get my bearings, wasn’t expecting you to confess it in a text like that, or with those exact words, but…” He smirks. “I’m good now.” 

His thumb traces your jawline before he cups your chin. The gentle touch sends shivers rippling through you. His eyes drop to your lips. 

“You good?” 

Funnily enough, somehow, you are. 

“Yeah. I’m good,” you whisper, tipping forward to close the space between you. 

Amazingly, despite the unyielding need to just yeet yourself onto him, you manage to hold back, simply leaning in to the kiss instead. Those plush lips that you’ve raved about feel unbelievable as they caress yours. So soft and tender, like the warmth spreading through you as he tightens his hold. Then he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, and you moan, loud and wanton, unable to control the sound, and he drops his hands to your hips again, gripping insistently. 

“C’mere,” he commands again, voice husky as his fingers hook into your sweats. “Come closer.” He exhales heavily. “Please.” 

Please? He has no idea how little he needs to beg right now. As if you’re not dying to get as close as you can! In the blink of an eye, you throw your leg over his, straddling him. His hands wrap around you again, like he can’t stand not having them on you for a second. You understand the feeling. 

You’re bolder now with your kisses, nipping and licking eagerly. A particularly sharp bite on his pouty lip makes him gasp in surprise, and you press your tongue into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut in sheer ecstasy when he sucks in response. The incessant throbbing of your clit is slightly relieved when Chan’s hips buck upwards, pushing his erection against you more firmly. He swallows your whines, breathes them back out in the form of his own groans.

The need for air eventually overwhelms you after a few minutes, and you begrudgingly tear yourself away from his face. 

“Aren’t you going to be late?” you pant, marveling at how red and swollen Chan’s lips are from kissing. The urge to dive back in before you’ve gotten enough oxygen into your system to keep from passing out is strong. “To meet the guys?”

“You really think I’m gonna leave now?” Chan huffs a laugh as he gazes at you from beneath lowered eyelids, looking as dazed as you feel, and you realize, shit, Minho’s right, you are a vampire, and you’re about to eat this man alive. “Fuck no. Besides, what kind of terrible roommate would I be if I left you at death’s door?” 

“If you - what?” 

More high-pitched giggles fill the room. How can he be so cute while actively grinding his cock against you like this? “Your disease. Remember? Ineedadickitis.” 

“I need to suck a dick,” you correct him.

“Oh, do you? Well, go on then.” He cracks up completely, bouncing you with the force of his laughter as you sit there dumbly for half a second before snapping to. 

“You’re so stupid, oh my god!” With a howl, you push him away. He goes easily, until he’s lying on his back on your bed, still cackling while he swats away your fake punches. “I hate you.” 

“No, you don’t.” His fingers lock around your wrists and with a gentle jerk you’re lying on top of him, your arms pinned between you. Before you can try to pretend that he’s wrong, try to mount yet another one of your dumb arguments, despite knowing full well that he's right, he kisses you again. 

As soon as he releases your hands, you tangle them in his hair. His hands trace down your back to grab the swell of your ass, crushing you flat against him, chest to chest. He suddenly breaks off the kiss.

“Are you not wearing a bra?” 

You shake your head and he groans, sitting up, taking you with him. His fingers curl in the hem of your top, twisting it upwards.

“Shirt off. Now.” His voice drops an octave and you shudder, quickly obeying his order. Then you grip his tank top.

“You too.” 

He reaches behind his head to peel the fabric off, tossing it on the floor. Then he lays back, propping himself up on his elbows as you openly gawk at his stomach. 

“Fuck.” He’s transfixed by your chest. 

“Jesus.” You’re mesmerized. From this close, you can see a faint trail of fine hair that runs down, cutting through the carved lines of his abs, like an arrow pointing to your desired destination. “Unreal.” 

“You can touch, if you’d like,” Chan grins up at you, obviously enjoying your reaction. 

You roll your eyes but do anyway, dragging your fingertips over his abs. His stomach twitches beneath your touch. Before you can get too far, he wiggles his hips, playfully jostling you out of your concentration.

“Can I touch, too?” 

“Jesus, yes, of course!” Grabbing his hands, you place one on each breast. “Touch me already!” 

He doesn’t waste any time, rolling your nipples between his fingers, waking the buds. You arch into him, his abs forgotten as he leans forward to take your left breast in his mouth. 

“Shit, Channie,” you whimper, combing his hair out of his face so you can watch him suckle away. He hums into you, swirling his tongue over your nipple, around and around, before dragging his tongue across to the other breast. 

“You like that, baby?” he asks, covering your chest with kisses. 

Baby? Did he really just call you baby? Is this really happening, or did you slip into one of your daydreams again? 

Nope, the hard dick rolling into the apex of your thighs as you grind down on him feels pretty real. You can’t help but moan, wondering what he looks like under those tight jeans. Is he as thick as you imagine? 

Wait, why are you still trying to imagine anything? He’s literally underneath you right now.

Your hand splays on his torso as you guide him onto his back again. Slowly, you lower yourself over him, and drag your mouth down his neck. Clearly, you’d interrupted his going out routine earlier, because he’s not wearing his normal cologne right now. Instead, the heady scent you inhale as you stick your nose into the hollow of his clavicles is pure Chan, musky and comforting. 

“Ah, that tickles!” he hisses. 

“Sorry.” You press a heavy kiss to his collarbone. “Is that better?” He nods, right before you sink your teeth in.

“Nnngh!” He lets out a throaty groan as you happily suck a love bite into his delicate skin. God, the noises this man makes! You want to record them and play them on a loop. 

You slip further down, dragging your fingernails over one of Chan’s nipples, watching his face for his reaction. A tiny “oh!” escapes him, and you repeat the motion, grinning when his back lifts off the bed. Sensitive. This is going to be fun. 

Chan raises his head when you start to kiss his abs, taking the time to lick along the ridges as you go, the salty tang of his sweat lingering on your lips. When your hands play with the skin above his waistband, he clears his throat. “You know, you don’t have to do this, just because of that text.” 

“Are you kidding me?” You pause with your fingers on the button of his fly. “You want me to stop now?” 

“I just don’t want you to think I expect anything.” Although his voice is a little shaky, like he’s trying to calm himself down, you hear the sincerity in his words. The sweetness. That warmth inside you roars into a flame. 

“Channie. I want this. Do you want this?” 

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Thank god,” you sigh, unzipping his fly.  He helps you peel off his tight jeans and you make quick work of his silk boxers beneath. Nudging his legs apart, you kneel between them 

For a moment just you stare at the sight in front of you. You were right. He’s thick. Maybe a little longer than most of the dicks you’ve been happy to be acquainted with, maybe not, but definitely thicker. 

You want to sit on him so bad. But first you want to please him, want to taste him. So much want. 

While you’re dicknotized, Chan stuffs your pillows under his head so he can have a better angle. You glance at his face and find him biting his lip, eyes looking a little desperate. He doesn’t say anything, just watches you. 

Might as well put him out of his misery. With a lick of your palm, you wrap your hand around him, and pump a few shallow strokes. He grunts at the sudden slickness, abdomen jumping slightly. 

“Ah, baby, just like that,” he says, eyes closing when you roll your thumb over the tip a few times. “Shit.” 

Your tongue darts out to follow, dipping around the head and back over, before you take it into your mouth. Just the tip, bobbing off, then a little more, then again. Each time you sink lower, he sighs. 

“Fuck, that feels so good. Keep going, take it all in.” 

Oh god, is he a talker? You’re already impossibly wet. You can’t possibly handle getting any more aroused. 

While your mouth is occupied, you lift your leg so you’re straddling one of Chan’s, resting a palm on his big thigh. You have obsessed over his thighs since the day you moved in. You refer to them as “the thunder from down under” in your texts to Minho. And here they are now, so strong and sturdy beneath you. Wild. 

Chan hisses when you deepthroat him, brushing your nose against his pelvis. Even though you pride yourself on your dick-sucking skills, you can’t help but choke slightly. More saliva floods into your mouth, and you swallow around him. 

“Oh, shit!” His hips rise up a little. You use both hands, one trying to hold him down by his hip while the other strokes in tandem with your mouth. There’s drool everywhere, and the sounds the wetness makes sounds lewd even for porn. “Baby, this mouth of yours! Feels better than I ever imagined.”

Air rushes into your lungs as you pull off, replacing your mouth with your other hand. “You thought about this?” He fantasized about you, too?

“Oh fuck yeah,” he growls. “All the time. Thought those pretty lips would look so good choking on me, and I was right.” He thrusts a little, rocking his dick up into your slippery grip. “Used to dream about fucking it.”

You moan so brokenly, he looks at you in concern. 

“Please,” you lick his darkened head almost frantically, “do it.” 

Chan studies you for a moment, brows knitting together, before he pushes your head down. 

“That’s it, go down for me,” he directs you, and you listen. “Just stay there. Let me do the work now.” 

He starts slowly, tilting his pelvis a little, fucking up into your waiting mouth. Then he cants his hips a little faster. His breathing gets heavier the harder he thrusts. Once he finds a steady rhythm, he lays his hand on the back of your head keeping you exactly where he wants you. 

You squirm restlessly as Chan fucks your throat. Having your roommate use your mouth as a sex toy is incredibly hot. Finally, you slide your hand into your sweats to give yourself some relief. Your clit is engorged, practically beating like a heart between your fingers. You let out a pleased moan, vibrating down Chan’s cock. 

“Do that again, baby.” 

You’re not denying this man anything. Again and again, you make him curse as your hums resonate across his sensitive skin. He trembles a little, and it’s intoxicating to think that you might be breaking down this big, strong roommate of yours, reducing him to a quivering mess.

At the very least, it’s something to aim for. 

Chan praises you again. “God damn it, that’s good. Gonna make me cum with that pretty mouth.” 

You suck and swallow and moan and rub yourself, feeling Chan’s thigh flex beneath you, and it hits you what he said, that you’re about to get Chan off, you, so you reach out, raking your hand up the inside of his thigh until you find his balls, squeezing gently.

“I’m gonna cum, shit, ’m gonna cum,” he moans, words slurring together. “Where, baby?” 

You stop touching yourself so you can grip the hand of his that rests on your head. He gets the point, pace not slowing, and with a few more powerful pumps, and some stuttered exhalations, he fills your mouth. You take it all, swallowing noisily and gasping for breath once he pulls out. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” 

He laughs as he says it. Your shoulders shake as you half-laugh, half-wheeze, slumping over on Chan’s thigh.

“Is that a compliment?”

“Fuck yeah,” he grins. “And I’m guessing from the sounds you were making, you enjoyed that as well? Just maybe not quite as much as me?”

You shrug. “I got what I wanted.”  

“Yeah, okay, maybe, but I bet you’d like more, hmm?” Without waiting for a response, he swiftly flips you onto your back. Just hauls you right over like you’re made of feathers. A rash of ridiculously giddy giggles burst past your lips, but they die away when he crawls up your body, the power of his gaze pinning you in place, and drops hungry lips onto yours.

Immediately, you surge up into him, pressing as close as you can. Both of you are glistening with sweat, his hair sticking to his face and yours as he licks into your mouth, hot and wet. You’re drowning in him. It’s everything you ever wanted. How the fuck can you possibly want more? But you do, and this feeling makes itself known as you start to whimper needily.

Chan’s hand quickly locates your breast, tenderly cupping your flesh. “Have I told you how fucking gorgeous you are? So pretty.”

You preen at his words, humming contentedly. Fuck. Do you have a praise kink, or is it just that Chan’s the one saying these words that is getting you more worked up? You roll your hips, seeking friction, and Chan’s hand slides downward until he reaches where you need him.

“Oh, baby, so wet,” he says, voice hushed, almost reverent. “Just dying to be touched, yeah? Let me help you.”

With sure movements, lithe fingers stroke along your lips, opening you up. Fingertips squeeze your clit, playing with the aching pearl, causing you to squeal, and you could die, having made such a sound, except you’ve clearly already died and gone to heaven.

Even as his hand rubs, his lips never leave yours. You thrash in his grip when he slides a finger inside you, finding your g-spot with surprising quickness and pressing the fuck out of it, and he still chases your mouth, covering your chin in kisses. Your legs kick out as he alternates between fondling your clit and stroking your walls, until he suddenly stops, pulling his fingers out so he can rid you of your sweats. 

“You still with me?” he asks, kneeling between your legs, and you wonder if you look as wrecked as you feel, sucking in air like a fish. You must be a mess, if your appearance matches how you feel. But you’re also excruciatingly aroused and frustrated, so close to coming that you’re ready to blow.

“Yes. I’m here, I’m good.” 

“Good.” The Look™️ is back. He grabs your legs and bends them, pushing your thighs into your torso. “Here. Be a good girl and hold these.”

Yes, daddy. You bite your tongue to keep from screaming the words, and grasp your legs behind your knees, pulling them to the side as much as you can, opening you up wide.

“Yes, Channie.”

He smiles at that, eyes so dark you can almost see yourself. “So good for me. Hold tight, baby.” 

He sticks out his tongue, eyebrows cocking as he dives down, tracing your folds lightly before flattening the pink muscle and dragging it heavily upwards. You keen as his hot mouth suctions onto your clit. He rolls your clit around with his tongue before flicking it in a quick motion, over and over. 

“Jesus!” You’re a live wire, muscles jolting and twitching. As he continues working over the tiny bundle of nerves, his fingers slip inside you again, two this time, scissoring you apart, making room for his tongue. 

You gasp as he plunges inside, tracing your inner walls. He’s so loud, the noises his mouth makes as he sucks and laps, and messy, too, slick dripping from his chin when he lifts his face, making sure you’re watching him. Of fucking course you’re watching him. There’s literally nothing else in the world you’d rather be looking at right now than Bang Chan, the hottest man in the galaxy, devouring your pussy like it’s his last meal. 

“Tastes so good,” he rasps, turning his face to press sloppy kisses to your inner thigh. “Think you can hold out a little longer? Let me enjoy, yeah?” 

At this point, you’re a fucking tinderbox, one spark and you’ll explode, but sure, why not let the man enjoy himself a little more? 

“O-okay,” you stutter weakly. “I’ll… try.” You bite your lip. “But maybe…” 

Chan brushes his lips over your slit. With a shaky hand, you let your left leg go so you can reach out, brushing some damp locks off his forehead, and he looks at you. 

“Maybe a little slower?” you ask. 

He smiles, nodding a little. “Got ya.” 

Instead of pulling your hand back, you thread your fingers into his hair, and he hums, burying his face again. Only now, his tongue rolls slowly over your cunt, languidly, each pass taking longer and longer. He still keeps the pressure up, makes sure he’s pushing just as firmly against your sensitive folds, still fucks his tongue into you just as deeply as he was before, but now his movements aren’t so frenzied. They feel purposeful, like he’s intent on savoring the moment. 

And you realize you should, too. So you barely blink as you observe everything he does - every kiss, every groan, every time his eyes close. You try to commit it all to memory, so you can relive this moment over and over again. In case this is it.

Chan keeps humming, not so much a melody as just wordless sounds, getting louder when your thighs start to squeeze a little. Your hand grips the roots of his hair, not so much guiding him as hanging on. Until he takes your clit in his mouth again, and you cry out, holding him in place. 

“Right there, Channie, please!” Your voice breaks as you beg him not to stop. He doesn’t let up, not even when you release your death grip on your right leg, letting it fall over his shoulder like the other one. You dig your fingers into the blanket beneath you, fisting the material. “Fuck, just like that!” 

Your hips rise off the bed as you start to hump his face, grinding harder and harder. Chan slides his fingers back into your already clenching hole and finds your g-spot again. You wail helplessly, mind already going, body not far behind, as your muscles start to contract, everything tightening - 

“Fuuuuck!” 

With a loud groan, you come all over Chan’s face. He keeps tonguing your clit through your orgasm, but has to use his hands to hold your thighs open so he doesn’t asphyxiate. You tug at his hair, riding out the waves of bliss on his mouth. 

When you finally relinquish your grasp on his head, he stops. He slides your legs from his arms, then sits back on his heels to examine his handiwork.

You’re a limp noodle. No bones. No muscles. Couldn’t move if you tried. Your climax completely wiped you out, leaving nothing behind. But you’re a very happy noodle, practically purring as you smile at the ceiling. 

Chan, on the other hand. Chan appears to be ready for the next round. A point made obvious by the massive erection he’s again sporting. You blink at him a few times. 

“I’m going to need a minute.”

He laughs, draping himself over you, arm slung over your stomach, head on your shoulder. “Nah mate, you’re done.” 

A rather petulant whine bubbles up from deep within you. “Nooo, I’m good, I’m good!” 

You try to reach for his dick, but he catches your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. Which is a surprisingly sweet move, but not what you want right now. It’s not that you don’t want to cuddle with him - if he asked, you’d wrap yourself like a blanket around him and snuggle him for hours.

It’s that you’re not ready for this moment to be over. 

“Relax,” he laughs. “Plenty of time for that later. Just rest for a bit.” 

“Later?" There’s gonna be a later?

Chan kisses your neck lightly. “Yeah, later. Not done with you yet, baby.” 

You sigh, bringing a hand up to stroke his back. Okay. Maybe a little nap is fine. If there’s going to be a later. 

Fuck, you can’t wait to text Minho. 

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2023 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

I don't feel right tagging my usual tl since that was for my BTS writing, so I'm just gonna tag some moots that I think might like this:

@moni-logues @yoongimingyu @borahae-k @nabiolive @jikooknoona @sowoozoo-7 @eoieopda @here4btsfics @candlewaxandp0lar0ids @ballelino @starlostjimin @augustbutwinter @blueversaillesdreams @hobivore @hobi-gif @seokjinger-ale @hannahbee12719 feel free to tell me if I'm way off base, no pressure to actually read! 💕

[mysteryshoptls]

R Ace Trappola - Luxe Couture Vignette

"My perception just lagged hard"

[Fairest City – Crystal Galleria]

Ace: Alright, it's finally the free roam time I've been waiting for! That brand-name shop looks good, and so does that one… But I think I'll have to pass on 'em!

Azul: Oh? You don't plan on visiting those stores?

Ace: I mean, I'm not anywhere close to being able to afford all those high-brand clothes. But you already knew that when you asked, right, Azul-senpai?

Ace: But it's not like I've completely given up on doing any shopping, though. I'm thinkin' about checkin' out some of the secondary line shops.

Azul: Ah, yes, there are many high-end brands that are developing products aimed at the broader marked instead of just their main audience.

Ace: Yeah, yeah. I did some digging after heading back to the hotel yesterday, and…

Ace: Looks to me like those secondary line shops have fits that suit me better.

Azul: Hm. And what sort of look do you tend to like, Ace-san?

Ace: I guess my likes reflect my usual getup. I dress pretty casual.

Ace: I like clothes that are easy to move around in, and aren't really high-maintenance. And I can't really deal with looks that are too stiff.

Ace: I'd probably say that most of my outfits have a splash of the current trends, but also have a bit of an edge to it.

Ace: On the other hand, I can only imagine you wearing pretty stiff and formal stuff.

Azul: I suppose. Of course, it does depend on the time and occasion.

Ace: Maaan, I know you got some real good sense about these things. It'd be greaaat if you could tag along and pick out some clothes for me～

Azul: Well, let me see… I do have some interest in how those secondary line brands develop their merchandise.

Azul: There's no reason for me to not join you as I observe their establishments. HOWEVER! You will, of course, be paying for yourself.

Ace: Tch. Guess he saw right through me. Suuucks.

Ace: Oh well, let's go, then.

Ace: Hmmm, where's the store I was checking out yesterday…? Oh, found it. Azul-senpai, it's over here.

Azul: The store does seem to have a grand appearance, yes… But I can see that the designs here are rather different from the signature line.

Ace: Looks pretty good, huh? Let's go in!

Ace: Woah, check out this stylish sweater! The shape's pretty good, and I bet it'd work with all sorts of outfits. And the price…

Ace: ONLY 30,000 MADOL [300 Thaumarks]! THAT'S SO CHEAP!

Azul: Calm yourself, Ace-san. Is 30,000 Madol for one sweater considered cheap to you?

Ace: ACK, WAIT, NO, THAT'S NOT CHEAP! WHEW, THAT WAS CLOSE～

Ace: After seeing all those Luxe prices set for the rich and famous, I guess my perception just lagged hard.

Ace: But I think I should be able to buy at least one thing from this shop with my pocket money.

Ace: Azul-senpai, I'm countin' on you to pick out something nice for me.

Azul: What do you think about that black blazer on the mannequin over there? It has a stunning silhouette.

Ace: Ooh, you're right. It's got a pretty slender and sleek profile!

Azul: Underneath it… How about this collared white shirt? It would probably look good with a striped tie, as well.

Azul: If you combine it with these center-pressed slacks and leather shoes, you would do well in any establishment that requires a dress code.

Ace: Cool, I woulda expected nothing less from something you've selected, Azul-senpai. Pretty formal and mature.

Ace: It's a pretty different look than what I normally would go for, but I guess I should at least give it a try.

Azul: I am pleased you like it.

Ace: If I were to buy everything that you chose for me… Urgh, that's over 100,000 Madol [1,000 Thaumarks]!

Azul: Well, this might be a secondary line, but it is still a brand-named shop.

Ace: Hrrrngh, maybe I'll do just this blazer… It's not really something I already own or anything.

Ace: And black pretty much goes with anything, so it makes it easy to come up with outfits…

Ace: It's a shorter style, too, so it might actually go for a casual look with my hoody and jeans.

Azul: That is a combination that hadn't even crossed my mind… Yet, I agree, I'm sure it would suit you immensely.

Ace: So that look would be like a combination of our two fashion senses, then.

Ace: If it's just the blazer, I think I could just barely afford it, but… My funds when I return to campus'll be pretty low…

Ace: Ooh, I have an idea! Can you let me work some hours at the Mostro Lounge?

Ace: I can be pretty good with my hands. You've seen that before, right, Azul-senpai?

Azul: Yes, of course. And we have a mountain load of tasks to be done. I look forward to your wonderful hard work, Ace-san.

Ace: …Shoot. Did I just put myself up for something I shouldn't have?

Ace: Uhhh… Hope you'll go easy on me～

Requested by @ordinaryanon.

[aisiedaisie]

Heyo!

I noticed you take asks, but after lurking for a bit, I saw you haven’t done any yet. No worries if you’re not ready! But do you write _ x reader? Because I was thinking it’d be a super cute idea if the reader has a crush on their TA, who happens to be one of the Marauders, in the most boring class ever.

Oh, and if you haven’t had any designated anons yet, can I be ☁️?

Hello hello~ !

I do take asks!!! This is actually the first ask I’ve received and I am so happy. Thank you for sending it in and of course you can be my ☁️ anon! As for _ x reader fics… I’ve actually never written a reader fic before but I’ve tried my best! I think it leaned more gender neutral more than female reader, but I hope its okay.

Also, as someone who normally writes in third person, second person is difficult!!!

TA! Sirius Black x GN! Reader WC: 1.1k

You can’t remember why you signed up for this class. Maybe you thought it would be easy? Or even interesting…

But no.

The only thing remotely worth your time is the observation lab every Friday. The rest? Well, that’s just a blur of uncomfortable lectures, ticking clocks, and the distant hum of other students’ barely contained frustration.

No one would expect you to have perfect attendance. Most of the class doesn't even bother showing up, since attendance isn’t mandatory. They only show for tests, and even then, some skip those. You can’t help but wonder if they dropped the class, or if they just don’t care anymore.

Unfortunately— or, depending on your perspective, fortunately— something other than the lecture has caught your attention. You can’t help but quietly admire the TA at the front of the room, his presence oddly magnetic amidst the dull hum of the class.

Sirius Black is as punctual as you—if not more. He’s always there before anyone else, scanning IDs with a detached efficiency as students shuffle past. Then he settles into the front row, laptop open, his fingers dancing over the keys. He posts notes on Canvas for the absentees, though you suspect it’s more out of routine than necessity, since the lectures are always recorded and uploaded that evening.

He doesn’t seem like the type who’d voluntarily spend his free time sitting through intro-level astronomy lectures. With his shoulder-length, wavy dark hair—often loosely pulled into a half-bun—and his signature worn black leather jacket, he looks more like someone who should be out of a 50s film than a lecture hall. His casual blue jeans and plain white T-shirt complete the look, giving him a James Dean vibe that seems a little too effortless, a little too cool for this room.

You try to refocus, your eyes drifting back to the lecture. Professor Fancourt’s voice drones on in a monotonous lull, and he scribbles another formula on the whiteboard. “With this equation, please find the orbital velocity of Neptune,” he instructs, his back turned as he walks toward the desk by the door where Sirius is absorbed in his typing.

You glance back at the formula, but it might as well be a foreign language.

You’ve never been good at math, and when you signed up for Basic Astronomy, you didn’t think it would be an all-out battle of numbers. You thought you’d be learning about planets, maybe some stars, a little science history. But math? Why did they have to throw that in?

A knot tightens in your stomach as Professor Fancourt starts pacing. You know what’s coming. It’s only a matter of time before he picks someone—randomly, of course—to come up to the whiteboard and answer the question. You have no idea what’s going on with that equation, but you’re pretty sure it’s going to be you.

You don’t want to be called on. Not today.

With a resigned sigh, you gather your things, leaving your notebook open on the desk. A quick break—just enough to clear your head.

You make your way to the TA’s desk. Sirius looks up as you approach, his brow quirking in mild surprise.

“Look at that—someone’s actually moving from their desk,” he teases, and you manage a tired, half-hearted smile, nodding in acknowledgment.

“Just need a break,” you mutter, pulling your ID from your pocket and handing it to him.

He scans it without a word, his fingers drumming absentmindedly on the scanner. “If you’re grabbing something, make it quick,” he says, his voice laced with a playful chuckle. “And don’t forget—bring me something back, yeah?” He adds a wink for good measure, making the suggestion feel almost like a dare.

You step out into the hallway, the noise of the lecture hall fading behind you. For a moment, the weight of the class lifts from your shoulders, and you allow yourself to relax. You focus on the vending machine in front of you, half-stalling, half-actually needing something to take your mind off the dull lecture and the growing pressure of the equation you still can’t wrap your head around.

You scan the rows of snacks—chips, candy bars, granola. You grab the chocolate bar you always go for when you need something quick. You buy it, but as you clutch the candy and step away from the machine, you remember Sirius’ words, his playful tone still echoing in your mind. “And don’t forget—bring me something back, yeah?”

You pause, eyeing your snack. An impulse hits you, and you decide to grab a pack of sour gummies from the row below. It’s different from what you’d normally get, but you figure it’s a safe bet. Plus, you’d hate to go back empty-handed after he asked, even if he was joking.

With both snacks in hand, you head back into the lecture hall. The familiar hum of the room greets you, but this time it feels different. The pressure in your chest has lifted, replaced with an unexpected calm. You’re grateful to find the professor already discussing the next topic when you return.

You make your way to your seat, but before you sit down, you glance toward the front of the room. Sirius is still hunched over his laptop, typing with the same detached concentration as always. His attention is on the screen, but when he hears you approach, he looks up just in time to catch your eye.

You raise the pack of sour gummies slightly, as if to confirm you heard him. “Brought you something.”

His eyebrow quirks in surprise, but the smirk that follows is unmistakable. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with a quiet chuckle. “Well, I’ll be damned. You actually came through.” His gaze flickers between the gummies and your face, and you can’t help but feel a little self-conscious under his attention.

“They’re for you,” you say, offering him the pack. “Hope you like them.”

Sirius grins, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment as he takes the gummies. “Thanks. This’ll make the rest of this lecture bearable,” he says with a wink. “Thanks, love.”

You smile, a little shy, your cheeks flushing at the nickname. You return to your seat as he rips open the pack, popping a gummy in his mouth. The subtle exchange is enough to keep your mind from wandering back to the looming equation on the board.

The rest of the class goes by in a blur.

Professor Fancourt drones on as usual, but you don’t mind so much now. For once, you actually feel... lighter. Sirius hasn’t left his post at the front of the room, but every so often, you catch him glancing back at you with a quiet grin, as if he knows exactly how much of an effect he’s having on you. It turns your cheeks even darker, and your eyes quickly dart away when you make eye contact.

By the time the class ends, you’re no longer dreading the idea of coming back next week. In fact, you might even look forward to it a little, and not just because of the observation lab on Friday.

[romanreignseater]

Signed Up.

Roman Reigns x Reader

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smutty Smut

“Marrying Roman came with a lot of benefits, but do you really know what you signed up for?!”

A/N: A moan off?! Don’t know where this came from, but I did it any way. My first fic, hope you enjoy 😆💕!!

GIF: @romanreigns

You loved days like this. Babies sleeping peacefully, wind blowing through the windows, and your gorgeous husband nestled up to you. His body warm to the touch, but face cold as he stares at the TV.

You can help but to admire. “How am I so lucky?!”, you think to yourself. You were snapped out of your trance, by a deep and timber voice, that said, “If you keep staring, you might burn your eyes looking at all this hotness”. You giggled at your husband’s corny ass joke, “You know, for someone who seems so cool on TV, you’re lame as HELL in person”, as you continued to laugh at him. “But, you knew what you signed up for”, Roman said, staring at you with those beautiful brown eyes. That’s true, you knew what you signed up for and you were never going back.

Roman’s face carried that signature smirk, as you said nothing and stared blankly at him. “You want me to give you something else to think about baby?” You tried not to give him the satisfaction that he has such a power over you, so you have to play the game, before it plays you. “Ro… the kids are sleeping and subject to your own opinion, your grunts and moans are pretty loud”. Roman couldn’t even keep a straight face hearing that bold faced lie. “My moans are too loud?! My moans are TOO LOUD?!”, he said in utter disbelief. Now you knew what was coming, he was gonna list ALLLL the things he has done to you to make you absolutely lose your mind. But instead, he says something that baffles you.

“Let’s have a little competition then, you suck me off and we’ll see how “loud” I moan. Then, I’ll eat you and we’ll see how loud you’ll moan.” “Loser has to go through a punishment of the winner’s choice”. His face as cold and calm as it is in the ring. Due to your extreme competitiveness, you could never back down from a challenge. “Game on, champ”, you said as he couldn’t help but to show those pearly whites. “Well… Go on then, you better get to work”, the Tribal Chief says.

You get on your knees in front of him while he was sitting on the couch. He does his iconic man-spread, and you can’t help but to look at those luscious thighs clad in those Nike shorts. “You look like you’re already about to moan”, he says feeling on top of the world. All you can do is roll your eyes and hit him back, “Don’t worry baby with just the feeling of my hand on your dick, you’re gonna be wishing you never challenged the GOAT”. Roman laughs though his sentence, as he says, “All this back talk for you to lose”. That’s it, your done letting your mouth talk and it’s time for your mouth to move. The hair tie on his wrist is now wrapped around betwixt your hair, you then pull his long and girthy dick out of his boxers, spit on your hand, and get to work. Roman’s arms are laid across the head of the couch as he STILL daunts that sly smirk. You had to act fast, no more teasing or foreplay.

Kitten licks are given to the head of his beautiful dick, and his thighs stiffen up. “Cat got your tongue baby?!” You stared up at him with those big, doe eyes that he can’t stand. “I’m chilli-“, you interrupted his sentence as you shoved his entire length down your throat. You bobbed your head up and down as he lightly moaned, when an idea popped into your head. His head that was once laid back against the couch, now lifted as you stopped. He stared at you with confusion, “Why’d you stop?!”, he said. You returned to him your sly smirk and said, “Beg for it.” Roman loved when you were dominant, but at this moment… it was not the time. “Y/N”. “No, no, no, no.”, you said as you shook your head, with his shaft in one hand and the other formed with one finger up. “It’s my time and you do as I say”, your facial expressions challenged him. He fell underneath your command, “Y/N, please, I need it, I want it, please”. Satisfied with his response, you continue.

His large and heavy balls were being rolled by one hand, the other moving along with the motions of your open mouth. As you looked up, his lip in between his teeth and hands gripping his shorts. You needed to step your game up, so you squeeze his shaft and focus on the tip. Roman’s eyes blown wide up and moans expelled out of his mouth. “That’s it righ—t there”. You knew Roman could moan louder than that, but it was too late. He released into you mouth. Roman smirked down at you as you swallowed every drop. “Well, I think we know who’s winning”, he says laughing. Your faced contorted into a pout, as you cross your arms on your chest. “Awww, poor little Y/N, are you sad? Huh?! Are you sad?!”, “Well too BAD”, the menace spoke. “Get your ass up there.” You sat still on the fluffy carpet as he peered down at you. “Y/N, you better take your sour ass attitude somewhere else, cause you ain’t getting out of this”, he said coldly. “Now I’m not gonna repeat myself. Get. Your. Ass. Up. There. NOW!”

Not wanting him to go crazy, you followed his instructions. “You know better than to be a sore loser, now take off your top and pants. Leave the panties on for me.”, he said as you followed. Roman kneeled in front of you as you were only wearing your panties. He spreads your legs as if he is parting the Red Sea. He takes his massive thumb and rubs you through your soaked panties. You immediately felt like you were about to cum, “Cat got your tongue babyyy?!”, he said mocking your statement earlier. You just bit your lip with your brows furrowed not answering him. He continues his assault on your pussy with his thumb. The Tribal Chief then does something that completely changed the game. Instead of removing your panties, he keeps them on as he eats you out.

The feeling of your Victoria Secret lace panties rubbing against you and his long, wet tongue licking you up, made you feel sensations you NEVER felt before. You put your index finger between your teeth as you held in your moans. You tried to close your thighs, but he smacks your thighs back open and coldly stares up at you. He moves your panties to the side as he dives right in. “Ro… n-ooo, m-m-ore”, you begged. “You gotta sit here and TAKE this shit”, he says. He then pauses his abuse on your pussy and shoves his middle and index finger into your tight hole. He lays his other hand in your stomach and jackhammers his fingers into your cunt. You tried you best, you really did, but the Tribal Chief outdid you. You screamed as you began to squirt all over his hands and your stomach. “There you go, let it out mama, give it to me.” You moan with all the power you have, he then stops the utter obliteration on your pussy and sits back to admire his work.

He takes the tips of his fingers to rub your wetness all over your pulsing cunt. You shiver due to the overstimulation and push his hand out of the way. He wipes his forehead and says “Whooo, I’m tired.” You just stare at him blankly as if you aren’t dying over here. “I fucking hate you”, “I fucking love you too”, he says as he kisses you passionately. You both stare at each other as you hear you your babies awakened from their nap. “Don’t baby, I got ‘em.” You smiled up at him and silently thanked him. As your about to gather yourself together, he turns around and says, “Get ready for punishment, cause you’ll never when its coming… and. Anything. Goes.” You smiled and say “I know what I signed up”. “Glad you do”.

Do I really know what I signed up for?!

THE END.

Part 2 maybe?!

Lemme know, give me some feedback.

[fauxdette]

The Procurist pt. 6

Azriel x Elain

Summary: Tensions rise as Azriel confronts Rhysand about Elain. Meanwhile, Elain makes her escape.

Warnings: Descriptions of violence (fistycuffs)

Word count: 1.5k

•••

This was the bath he’d been looking forward to for months and yet he couldn’t scrub his skin fast enough. Being back in Velaris, back in the house where they had almost kissed, back on the land whose gardens she tended to so rigorously, had brought the weight of Elain’s situation crashing down on him.

And Azriel was mad.

He had already dried, changed, and was marching down the hallway of the River House when the wraiths found him.

“Azriel,” they spoke in unison, instinctively falling in line behind him.

“I’m sure we have a lot to catch up on.”

“Reports are already on your desk.”

“Good. And our current status?”

“The fox has found her.”

The relief that swept through him tempered his anger briefly but he didn’t allow himself to react.

“Thank you,” he said instead.

Sensing the conversation was over, the sisters vanished into the nearest shadow, just as Azriel approached Rhys’ office door.

Even muffled by thick walls he recognised each voice from inside. His training allowed him to map their positions in the room, and one voice in particular was currently holding court. Azriel didn’t bother to knock as he opened the door.

“—and you let that Autumn creep go and get her??”

Nesta was standing, one hand in a tight fist at her side, the other gesturing wildly to the office window. Out to the world and wherever her sister might be.

Cassian was cringing in his seat but did not move to interrupt his mate. Upon entering, Nesta threw a glance in his direction.

“Shadowsinger—” Her surprise lasted half a moment. “Finally someone with half a brain. Did you know he,” a finger stabbed toward their High Lord. “Sent Elain on some kind of reconnaissance mission?”

“Oh I’m aware,” his voice was cool as night.

“If you want to yell at me about it, get in line,” Rhys snapped.

“I’m not here to yell, brother.” He didn’t bother hiding his rage; shadows slithered around him like moving armour, hostile and restless. “We have some things to settle. Training ring. Five minutes. Don’t make me wait.” And with that he turned on his heel and left.

•••

“You cut your hair—“

“—what are you doing here?”

Jethro was looking between them, a mix of annoyance and confusion warring on his perfect face.

“So you two know each other?”

“No—“

“—she’s my mate.”

“You have a mate?” His eyes narrowed on her as he tutted beneath his breath. “Have you been lying to me, fair fawn?”

Elain stuttered, searching for the right words. What could she say? Anything would reveal too much, be too personal.

“If you’ve touched her—“ Lucien made to move inside the cart but was stopped by some kind of invisible shield, bouncing off the doorframe as if it were a wall.

Jethro’s signature smirk reappeared.

“Sorry. Invite only.” He turned his back on the Autumn Prince. “Now tell me, what kind of mate pretends they don’t know the other?”

“She’s not well. That’s how she ended up here. With you.”

“Funny,” Jethro didn’t bother to turn as he spoke. “Because if she is the one who isn’t well, why are you only just noticing a hair cut?”

He tapped his finger against his smooth chin.

“Do you know what I think, little fawn?”

She didn’t. And she didn’t want to be there anymore. Not only had the mission gone south, quickly, but now her mate was here and that golden thread between them thrummed in his presence. She hated it, the pull she felt. Like the fae body she was growing accustomed to was betraying her.

“I think you haven’t accepted your mating bond.” Ignoring her silence, Jethro tilted his head. “Now why would that be?”

Was she that obvious? Had all this training and practice been for nothing? They had to leave. Now. And in that haze of fear and shame, Elain did the only thing she could think of; she threw herself towards the open door, and the male who stood outside it.

•••

Rhysand’s appearance clad in fighting leathers was clear enough, they were going to settle things the way they had for centuries - not with words and reason, but with blood, and sweat, and fists.

Azriel had forgone the shirt of his own leathers, and he stretched his wings behind him as he peeled it off his body.

“I’m surprised no one else came.”

“They wanted to. I told them this was between us.”

“They don’t know about Solstice then.”

To his credit, Rhys’ face remained neutral. “I don’t see how it’s anyone else’s business.”

“I don’t see how it was any of your business but here we are,” Azriel retorted.

Rhys lunged, a sweeping punch with good weight behind it. Azriel quickly ducked and landed a satisfying thud on Rhys’ ribs with his own fist. He sprang up as his brother inhaled the force of the blow and hit him again in the cheek, sending him lurching to the side.

“You’re out of shape.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Sure. Busy holding meetings in your office while Elain is… where exactly is she, Rhys?”

“She volunteered, Azriel. Don’t tell me you have so little faith in her.”

Faster than he could react to, Azriel was on him, delivering a punch to the other side of Rhys’ face. Rhys retaliated with his own fists, landing the first blow, but Azriel dodged the second, instead hitting Rhys in the gut. He launched into the air, a beat of his wings giving him leverage before dropping onto Rhys’ hunched back with his elbow. The High Lord fell forward, hands outstretched, as Azriel landed neatly beside him.

“The issue isn’t that you let her go.” They were both panting heavily.

“What is it then? Because my decisions have been for my court. For my people. That includes you, Az.”

"Anything could have happened to her today! Not because of the plan, or her training, or Koschei’s wards; but because you let her go alone. You let our personal shit stop you from including your spy master on a spy mission."

Rhys stumbled, hesitated. His fists were still raised, knuckles bloody, but the fire that glowed in his violet eyes almost instantly dimmed.

"Shit."

"Shit doesn't even begin to cover it. You want to punish me for Solstice? Fine. But you punish Elain for it and I'll keep handing you your ass in this training ring until Nyx is old enough to walk in and drag you out himself."

“That’s enough!” Feyre’s voice carried across the ring.

They had been so focused on the fight, neither had noticed her enter.

“I don’t know what is going on between you two but you’ll have to finish this another day.”

“I don’t think it’s quite that simple, Feyre darling—“

“We’ll make it that simple,” Feyre said firmly. “Elain and Lucien are back.”

•••

Her arms were still wrapped around Lucien's neck as she slowly opened one eye. They had landed on the front lawn of the River House. Lucien gently lowered her to the ground, and she felt his arms slowly release their grip around her waist. The bond between them cried out in response, but if it bothered Lucien as much as it bothered her, he didn't show it. He didn't appear uncomfortable at all. He just looked...

“What were you doing out there?!”

…mad.

“I could ask you the same thing!”

“I was doing what Rhys asked me to.”

“So was I!”

Lucien shook his head and lowered his voice, "If you're trying to prove something to them," he nodded towards the entrance of the mansion where Feyre and Nesta now stood, the former bouncing Nyx on her hip. “Then don’t. You don't have to be like your sisters, Elain. This court already has enough leaders, warriors, and scouts to gather intel. Mother above they have a whole spy master holding meetings with me in the human lands. You don’t need to do this.”

“You’ve been with Azriel?”

The question fell from her mouth before she realised she’d asked it.

Lucien tensed. “Look. I get it,” he sighed, forging ahead. “The need to prove yourself among your siblings—I get it more than anyone. But today was dangerous. Even though you didn’t get the answers you wanted, what you did was still admirable, really. Considering how risky it all was—“

“Who said I didn’t get the answers I wanted?”

Lucien paused. “I—I mean—the girls are clearly not being kept in the cart, and it didn't seem like you had time to ask where he was living, so I just assumed—"

"I didn't ask where he was living."

"I'm not sure I understand," he admitted.

"Mm," she clicked her tongue and shrugged. "I didn't need to ask."

"You didn't need to ask where he's been staying, but you found out anyway?"

"I did."

"But...how?"

And even though she was furious that he, like so many others before him, had underestimated her, for the first time since that wretched bond brought him into her life, Elain gave Lucien a true smile.

“Because of the flowers.”

Read part 7

•••

Tags: @lavenderbloomsinthegarden @greenleaf777 @sakurakittypeach @diabookmama @downingg2001 @teapagesandpetals @nxs98

[myargalargan]

A musical Polinalysis part 2

So I spent hours yesterday writing an analysis on the music we hear when Colin and Penelope first kiss, only to realize a couple hours later that...the kiss isn't the first time we hear that theme!! So of course I had to keep writing about it, because I just think this is so cool...

Alright, check this out... The very first time we hear the theme is the very first time Penelope sees Colin at the beginning of the season. We've just seen Colin flirting with that gaggle of ladies; he approaches his family, and as soon as Pen catches sight of him, we hear this:

But wait. I'm going to back up a sec, because in my last post, I said this was Polin's theme:

Pretty different, huh? So what's going on here?

Well, in the first transcription above, I have us in G Major, starting our theme with the familiar intervals of the fifth note of the key going up to the tonic, or first, note of the key, and then up to the second note (in this case, from D to G to A) and so on for the next few notes. Everything sounds normal here except that we're in a different key (G Major for the first sound clip, D-flat Major for the second one).

But then what happens halfway through with all those # marks? These accidentals are called sharps, and they indicate chromaticisms in the key, or notes that don't naturally occur in the key that we're in. Another way to write this so that the notes do naturally occur in the key (it sounds the same as the first transcription above, it's just expressed with a different key signature) is this...

The part I've circled in red indicates a key change. At the beginning, we're in G Major. Halfway through, we move into g minor. These keys are related in that their scales start on the same note—the tonic of both keys is the note G. However, the scales themselves do not sound the same—these keys do not contain the same notes. Here is a G Major scale:

And here is a g minor scale:

Notice that the g minor scale sounds a little darker, spookier, maybe more intense. This is the typical quality of minor scales in general—they tend to have a sadder sound.

So, okay, that was a lot of music theory, but what does this all mean for our Polin theme? I think it's so compelling that the first time we hear this theme, we have a key change halfway through from major to minor—from a relatively bright, happy sound to a more intense, morose sound. This is the first time we see Colin and Penelope occupying the same space this season, the first time Penelope sees Colin after his return (and it's honestly unclear to me whether Colin sees Penelope, as well...he looks in her direction but doesn't seem to recognize that she's there?). And the first statement we get of the music that is going to represent them throughout the next few episodes has a dramatic twist halfway through! Much like their relationship? Much like season 3 itself?? I think this speaks of conflict and intrigue to come—for these first four episodes and the season overall.

But that's not all! At the end of this episode, we have Colin and Penelope making their arrangement for Colin to help Penelope find a husband. And as they shake hands and share meaningful looks, just before Lady Whistledown's narration starts the close-out of the episode, this is what plays in the background:

Unlike the very first statement of the theme, this one does not start in a major key and then modulate to a minor key—it is fully minor from the beginning (the key of f-sharp minor is my guess).

Knowing what we know about minor keys having a sadder, more intense sound, this statement of the theme is clearly meant to convey conflict. There are two big conflicts being set up in this moment between Colin and Penelope: 1) the arc for the first half of the season, of Colin trying to help Penelope find a husband and oops falling in love with her instead, and 2) the arc that we'll be seeing in the second half of the season, of Penelope's secret identity and what that means for her and Colin's relationship. The music is telling us, as Colin and Penelope grasp hands, that we need to be wary.

There is one more iteration of this theme that I want to talk about, and it occurs during the scene when Penelope meets Colin at Bridgerton house for one of their lessons (the scene that is infamous for Colin putting his hand on Pen's back Colin what are you doiiiiiing we are so scandalized!! *gasp*).

The moment Colin greets Penelope in the entryway, we hear this very softly in the background:

This abbreviated theme repeats several time throughout the above scene, and it builds as it's repeated. First there's a couple measures of the theme, then a couple measures without, then the theme is stated again, followed by another couple measures without, and then we get three statements of the theme one right after another in different instruments, until Colin and Penelope make it to the drawing room.

In sharp contrast to the intense, doomsday-foretelling version of the theme we got at the end of ep1, this version is light and playful. We're back in a major key—and in fact, we seem to be in A Major, which is the relative major of f-sharp minor (the key we were in at the end of ep1). That is to say, f-sharp minor and A Major share a key signature—they contain the same notes—but since the A Major scale starts on an A rather than an F-sharp, it has a brighter, cheerier sound.

So here's what I think is happening with all this musical storytelling. In the beginning of the first episode, we get our first statement of Polin's theme, starting in a pleasant major key sound and turning sharply into a darker minor key sound halfway through. This foreshadows Polin's narrative arc, and the idea of more drama to come in the second half of the season, just as Colin and Penelope think they've found their happiness.

Then at the end of the first episode, we get a statement of Polin's theme entirely in a minor key—a callback to the second half of the first instance of their theme at the beginning of the episode, and another moment of foreshadowing which sets us up for the main conflicts we will see this season and in Polin's relationship. Episode one is all about setting the stage for the rest of what's to come.

Then at the beginning of ep2, when we hear the theme again, it's like we're being oriented back towards the first half of the iteration that we heard at the beginning of ep1. It's saying, "Okay, the music in ep1 told you to expect both joy and danger, and now here we are at the joy part." We're having fun right now. The romantic tension is still fairly breezy at this point. We haven't yet gotten into the gut-wrenching angst of watching the best friend we accidentally fell in love with about to get engaged to another man.

At the same time, the build-up of the theme the way we hear it in the scene at Bridgerton house—the way we get multiple statements of only the first couple measures—also creates some tension. The theme keeps getting cut off partway through, so naturally we want to hear more; we want to hear it keep going all the way to resolution. Keep in mind, up to this point, we have not yet (I don't think, anyway...) heard the theme all the way to resolution in a major key. So far, we've heard the theme: 1) start in a major key and end in a minor key, 2) start and end in a minor key, and 3) start in a major key but not end at all. And when do we finally, finally get to hear the theme all the way through in a major key, without all the twists and interruptions that we've experienced previously?

Polin's first kiss.

And it's beautiful, and soaring, and feels something like catharsis...

But of course, even hearing their theme all the way through leaves us wanting more, because at that moment, their arc is still just beginning.

analysis part 1 | analysis part 3

[unidentifiedly]

Mutually beneficial exchange

House x reader R18

- In which house realizes he might have met his match. Oh, and he's got nothing to complain about, for once.

You were determined. This time you were going to get those folders from him. You walked along a corridor in an emptier part of the hospital, and quickly found what you were looking for.

It was hard enough being a freshly graduated trainee, but Cuddy had (in her infinite wisdom) placed you to train under the one and only doctor House.

"Hi House. Slacking off again?" The man's eyes still fixed on his magazine: "Yep. Don’t you have some boring clinic work to do?"

"I could ask you the same question!" You huffed, feigning annoyance.

"True. Why don’t you? Too afraid of disappointing Cuddy when you lose to me in this conversation?"

You pull out a chair from under the desk in the fairly empty room and take a seat opposite to him. "I could never disappoint Cuddy and you know that. I'm at the clinic all the time, and, unlike you, I do my paperwork!"

He rolls his eyes.

"Ugh Yeah, okay. You’re, like, the only person at this hospital who does paperwork. You want a trophy for it?" His little comebacks are quick but there's a glint of playfulness behind his sky blue eyes.

You smile. "Not a trophy, but maybe some recognition would be nice."

He sighs heavily but relents a little.

You do work pretty hard. I guess you deserve a little bit of recognition for that.

Mhhmm. Your eyes travel from his eyes to his lips and back.

He notices you looking at his lips and wonders if you’re trying to hint at something, but he doesn’t want to give anything away.

He tries to keep a straight face but he’s fighting back a smirk.

You notice him leaning closer toward you on his chair. He might not be doing it on purpose, but he definitely is interested in at least something. You make subtle adjustments to your posture and hip position.

"See that's what I think too! What kind of token recognition would you have in mind, doctor?" You put on your sweetest voice.

He’s acutely aware of every movement you make, but tries to remain blasé.

"Something for being a good little worker bee, I suppose." He gives you one of his signature smiles.

"Awh." You raise your eyebrow in a challenging way. "I was kinda hoping you would take the initiative here sir." The "sir" comes out almost mockingly, but he doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he seems amused.

He smirks.

"Oh so you want me to reward you?"

"Well, it's me who has been working so hard, and you the one who has been hardly working!"

You lean in to whisper in his ear:

"Although, I don't see why it couldn't still be rewarding for both of us." You lean away a bit so you are facing each other, waiting for him to react.

He shivers a little when you whisper. He wasn’t expecting to be that affected, but that’s what you do to him.

He tries to keep his cool and stay aloof, but his voice is a little huskier when he responds:

"You’ve been working very hard, I’ll give you that."

He locks eyes with you, trying to figure out what you have in mind.

Not moving your head away, you reach his pants' tightening waistline with your hand and look down.

With a chuckle, you say: "And you haven't been working, and are clearly hard."

You lightly trace the outlines of his growing bulge with your fingers. Now is the time for him to act, if ever.

His breath catches in his chest, and his lips part involuntarily. He can barely stop his hips from bucking up against your hand.

His voice is rough when he talks; he’s trying to hold himself back, desperately, but it’s a losing battle.

"You’re… You’re a real brat, you know that?"

"Mmhm. And are you going to do something about it?" You lean further in and whisper the last words with your lips almost touching his.

He grabs you roughly by the hips and moves you onto his lap. He looks you dead in the eyes with a mix of lust and challenge in his gaze.

"Oh, I’m gonna do something about it, alright. You just remember that you asked for it, princess."

He closes the distance between you and you kiss him back. First mixing in small bites at his lower lip, you're practically making him groan.

It doesn’t take him long to respond with his own aggressive touches.

He slips one hand under your shirt, his fingers moving across your skin with a feather-like touch. The feeling of your teeth on his lip has him aching and struggling to keep his cool.

You stop the kiss by grabbing him by his jaw playfully and start slowly getting up. He looks like a lost puppy.

House looks up at you, his expression one of both annoyance and arousal.

"And where are you going? You can’t just tease me and then walk away."

You I point at the clock.

"It's my lunch hour. I promised to eat with Wilson and discuss the upcoming gala dinner speeches. As for this" I gesture at his obvious erection, "I'd love to help you out, I get off work at five." Your tone is challenging and seductive.

You want to win this one. He has to make an effort and a move in order to get you in bed with him, no matter how much you may want it too.

He lets out a huff of irritation and crosses his arms across his chest. He’s not happy about this, but he’s also intrigued. He’s not going to give in to you that easily.

"Fine. Go have lunch with Wilson."

He’s trying his damndest to act like he doesn’t care, but the way he shifts in his seat betrays his discomfort and desire.

"Are you jealous, House?"

He looks at you through narrowed eyes, his expression giving away nothing. He’s not about to admit that he is — or that your little stunt has him riled up.

Jealous? No. Why on Earth would I be jealous of that old codger?

"Well, here you are all hot and bothered, and the cute young straight out of medschool trainee who got you in that state is about to leave you hanging to have lunch with your best friend. Why would you be jealous?"

His jaw tenses, and he grits his teeth. He knows you’re baiting him and it’s working.

He knows he should just laugh this off, but his ego and need to feel in control (and the fact that you look like a goddamn dream sitting in his lap) are working against him.

"You really are a little brat, aren’t you." His voice gruff and barely holding together.

You smile and kiss him again, starting to move in an effort to get up, which elicits a groan from him since you are still on his lap.

He grabs you by the hips again, holding you where you are. He can’t help but let out a small moan when you move, but he’s determined not to show how affected he really is.

"You’re not going anywhere yet, sweetheart."

You decide to toy with him more.

"And what are you going to do to stop me from my lunch plans? You better have something worth my time planned out for me mister."

You start a low pace grinding movement with your hips, making sure not to give him the full satisfaction he yearns for. You can feel his grip on your hips tightening a bit, and hear his heart racing.

His voice is a little shaky as he responds, his eyes fixed on your face. The feeling of you grinding down in his lap is heavenly but not enough. He wants, no, needs more. He can’t help but jerk his hips upward trying to get more friction, and the way you move is driving him crazy.

"You know damn well what I’m gonna do if you don’t quit teasing me."

"Do it then." You smirk and move your hands across his neck, chest, stomach and abdomen to rest on both sides of his still-clothed aching cock.

He lets out a guttural moan, his eyes closing shut for a moment before he regains his composure and opens them to look at you again.

The way you move your hands over him, teasing and taunting, is too much to bear. House decides he’s done playing your game. He growls, grabbing your wrists in his hands.

"You’re playing with fire, sweetheart."

You let out a surprised moan and pivot your eyes to look at House, his hungry gaze staring right back. You shimmy up to get a better balance with your legs, and start grinding a little harder, in circles, ready to drive him crazy. You fail to mask the desire in your voice, and it trembles as you let out:

"Please, sir."

House’s hands tighten on your wrists involuntarily, his body jerking under you. The way you’re moving, the way you’re begging is making him lose the last shred of restraint he has.

"God, princess. Do you want it that bad?"

You nod as you keep grinding, now feeling the pleasurable tension of his hardness against your clit as you grind on him.

"Ye- yes! I do."

House’s eyes darken with desire as he watches your body move on top of him. His grip on your wrists loosen to allow them to move, and he moves his hands to your hips instead.

He tries to guide your hips to move a little faster, a little harder, to give you both more of the friction you need, but it just feels too damn good.

He’s panting now, trying to hold back, but failing miserably.

"Say it again, princess. Tell me how bad you want it."

"Please, p-please, I need you so bad, I need your cock House, please!"

House shudders, the sound of those words coming from you is enough to make him lose his mind. He lets out an involuntary hiss, and he’s done pretending to be in control of himself. He moves his hands up from your hips to your back, pulling you closer so your chest is almost flush against his.

He growls in your ear, his voice rough:

"You want me? You need me?"

"I need you, sir, please!" The honorific seems to take his desire to an even higher level.

The "sir" on your lips makes him moan again and he tamps down his frustration at how much it turned him on.

He bites your neck, his tongue lapping at the sensitive skin there in a bid to keep himself occupied. He responds in a low, gravelly voice.

"Good girl. You’re going to have me, sweetheart. All of me."

Your hands meet his belt once again, this time starting to open it up. All of his sweet talk and the grinding making you a tad slower. He seems to have lost his patience for waiting around.

House bats your hands away, making quick work of his belt while keeping his eyes locked onto yours. He’s getting more impatient by the second, but he wants to take his time with you and make sure you both feel good.

He grabs your hips again and pulls you closer, his breath hot on your throat.

"Patience, princess. Let me take care of you first."

You, however, have other ideas. You pull his pants to his knees and promptly guide his hand onto your lower stomach closer to your hot core.

"Please sir, I can't wait much longer." Your right hand caressing his cock from on top of his underwear makes him hiss again and throw his head back in pleasure.

House moans and bucks up against your hand, his eyes squeezing shut. He can’t get enough of the way you touch him, the way you say his name. The way you’re begging him.

"Oh, baby girl. You’re gonna be the death of me."

He slides his hand below your skirt, his fingers tracing over the fabric of your panties and seeking out the heat between your legs.

"You’re all worked up, huh? You want me that badly?"

You look down at where you're sitting on his lap, the heat drawing each other closer and closer.

Your breath hitches in your throat for a second when you reach your hand to pull down his underwear, releasing his thick cock which springs up to slap against his abdomen.

You look into his eyes and start to slowly rub circles around the head of his cock with your thumb.

He moans as your hands glide over his cock, his head falling backwards against the chair and wall behind him.

You continue the massage, which soon turns into a full blown handjob. His hands having moved to keep a firm grip of your ass while you use both of your hands to pleasure him.

House is enjoying the way you’re working him, but he wants more. He leans forward, his lips against your ear as he speaks in a low, ragged voice.

"Princess, you don’t know what you’re doing to me. You’re driving me insane."

"You're saying you want to take this further, sir?"

House looks into your eyes for a moment, his gaze intense and unwavering. He’s not about to back down now. He leans in close, his breath hot on your neck as his hands continue to roam you body.

He murmurs the words into your skin:

"I want you, sweetheart. I want all of you, if you’ll let me."

You get up and hear his protests. However, they stop once he realizes what you're doing, and he concentrates on enjoying the show.

You pull your soaked panties down one leg at a time, making sure to sway your hips and look seductive in the process.

With the panties on the floor, you slowly walk closer to him while unbuttoning your shirt, revealing no bra underneath.

House’s eyes are practically glued to your body, drinking in the way you move and the sight of your bare skin.

He’s absolutely entranced as you walk toward him, the shirt unbuttoned tantalizingly slowly. He can’t help but let out an appreciative moan as you reveal yourself to him, his hands clenching into fists at his sides to stop himself from reaching out to touch you.

"Come on, Doctor sir, you can touch."

You beckon him as you climb back agonizingly slowly, and hover over his lap.

House lets out a low growl, the sound guttural. His eyes rake over your body and he can’t help but reach out to touch you. His hands slide over your thighs, caressing the skin under his palm. When he feels you hovering over him, he can’t take it anymore.

You smile and reach for his cock, pumping up and down a few times before aligning it with your pussy.

"You've been a good boy, sir, you've earned this."

You sit down and moan in pleasure, closing your eyes and grabbing onto the back of the chair behind his neck.

The way you’re moving is absolutely sinful, and House isn’t sure how much more he can take.

He grips the arms of the chair as you start a slow movement, gradually taking it up to a good-paced bounce, drinking in the sight of the great doctor House under you, under your spell.

House’s head falls back as you move, his mouth falling open in a low moan. The sight of you riding him, taking control over him, is almost too much. He tries to maintain eye contact with you, but his eyes are half-lidded with lust.

He reaches out to touch you, his hands caressing your skin and holding onto your hips, guiding your movements as best he can. He can’t get the words out, he’s lost in the feeling of you around him and the sight of you above him.

He groans, getting closer to his release, and so are you.

House is getting closer to his peak, the feel of your body against his and the sight of you above him working him into frenzy.

He lets out another guttural moan, his eyes closing tightly as he tries to hold on for just a little longer. His fingers dig into the skin at your hips, his body tense as he fights against the overwhelming feeling building inside him.

"Co- come on, sir cum for me." You try to whisper but half of the words come out trembling and louder than you intended.

His hips buck up, hitting a delicious spot in you, and you finish at the same time, both left panting on the same chair.

House slumps back into the chair, completely boneless and satisfied. He's breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

One hand is still gripping your hip, keeping you close and on his cock. He opens his eyes and looks up at you, a lazy smile on his face.

"You’re gonna kill me one day, princess."

"How about you take me out on a date before that? As a thanks for this." You wave your hand around, implying that "this" meant the reason behind your disheveled states.

House chuckles, a smirk on his face. He’s still a little dazed and spent from what just happened, but he’s not about to say no to a date. Especially not with you.

"A date, huh? You’re on, darling. I’ll take you out somewhere nice. Anywhere in particular you’d like to go?"

You shake your head. "Nu-uh. You choose the place. Just tell me what to wear so I won't look out of place." You start fixing your button up shirt and getting up, smoothing your skirt and wiping up the mess from your thighs.

House watches you for a moment as you fix your clothes, his eyes roaming over your body. He can’t help but admire the way you look, elegant, even after just having gotten completely undone with him.

He starts mumbling absent-mindedly: "Why don’t you wear something classy. Something… elegant. I’ve got a place in mind."

You truly were a perfect trainee. Perfect grades, perfect attitude, perfect tits that bounce so nicely when -

"Sounds good, sir! I'm taking this, by the way."

You grab a folder from a side desk. The very folder which he was keeping from you earlier, already hearing the shuffling of him trying to get up to stop you.

House lets out an exasperated moan as you grab one of the folders. He tries to lunge toward you, but his leg protests with a stab of pain. He curses under his breath and glares at you.

"Hey, no. Give that back." Look at him, trying to be stern.

"Not a chance. You can have these instead, deal?"

Something lands on his face. His lips spread into a wide smirk as he looks at the item in his hand. He looks at you, about to speak up but you interrupt:

"A pretty good deal, wouldn't you say? My favorite pair. Plus, you're not all that intimidating with your pants pulled down and fucked dumb, sir."

You shoot him a wink and walk toward the door of the room.

House lets out another curse, this time with more bite to it. He’s not used to being outsmarted by anyone, but somehow you’ve managed to pull it off.

He looks down at the item in his hands and can’t help but grin. A pair of your lacy panties has landed on his face, and he’s not about to pass up the opportunity.

"Fine."

"As if you had a choice."

You smile and before opening the door, say:

"I'll be waiting for you after work for that date."

You open the door, exit, and close it behind yourself.

House is left sitting in the chair, a pair of your panties in one hand and the other hand covering his eyes as he groans with frustration.

He has to admit to himself: pretty turned on by your unexpected power move, and he’s already looking forward to your date.

He mutters under his breath:

"Damn."

[akiology]

Phantom Thieves who has a favorite gacha character (it's you)

Summary: What if you were a character in a gacha game that the Phantom Thieves are currently raving about? Note: Got this idea since I am getting back into gacha games after a month-long hiatus from them. I was like... what if its THEM spending their time on thinking about a fictional character... Also this includes Sumire!

Futaba has been hearing about the talks of a new gacha game, and realized it had a fun multiplayer aspect to it. The game didn't demand much time in their daily quests, and can be played casually. She sent an invite to the Phantom Thieves, since there's a reward if a friend starts playing the game.

Akiren

He decided to check out the game after a busy day. He did not feel like doing anything productive, and thus proceeded to click download. He went through the introduction and through the list of characters available in-game. He landed on your page, and found you really adorable and interesting.

It was currently your banner, so he decided to try his luck on pulling for you. Unfortunately, he is very unlucky but he proceeded to grind through the game's content to get you. He got you at hard pity, and proceeded to spoil you with the best gears he could get his hands on. He really likes the story and finds the other characters interesting. However, he is at full focus when you are on the screen and only uses you during combat.

If you have a favorite food/signature dish, he would most likely try to recreate it. Futaba and Mona (if its safe for them) are his taste testers. He also has a figurine of you placed on the shelf with the rest of the souvenirs he got from his friends.

Ryuji

Sadly, he also wanted to send out invites for pulls but was bested by Futaba. He actually heard of the game before, and he already had a favorite character: you. Before the game was released, he was closely following updates, teasers, and trailers. He probably found you very cool either because of your role in the story or your move set/skills.

If your character is not a healer/shielder, he will almost always play you with one of those. Makes sure you are well-protected, and if you are near fainting, he will exit the area right away. Also, his plans to acquire new characters revolves around you now. When a new character comes out, he will be thinking if said character could benefit you somehow.

Most definitely has posters of you in his bedroom, and a keychain of you in his phone. If ever there's a plushie/gachapon of you near the arcade he hangs out at, best believe he will be there!

Ann

A bit of a gamer herself, she was actually familiar with the game and only got around to downloading it when Futaba sent the invite. As she goes around and explore the world, she met your character. Either you remind her of one of the heroines she admired, or she finds your strength inspiring, (maybe even both!) you quickly became one of her favorites. She really loves your story and always pays attention when you are in the spotlight!

Ann's luck is... alright. She's not blessed like Yusuke, but not so unlucky like Akira. Even so, she managed to get you and your weapon pretty quickly! Since the game is not that challenging, no matter what your role is, she will bring you with her in the journey. Even if the team had no synergy whatsoever.

She likes thinking up of clothes/accessories inspired by you. She incorporates some of this in her daily life. Like maybe you have a unique headpiece, then maybe she will find an equivalent and start wearing it daily.

Yusuke

He got dragged into it, and decided to give it a chance. He greatly appreciates the game design, and environmental feel. As he meets all sorts of characters, he gets inspirations for each and every one. When he meets you, however, he admired your design for a moment before continuing. He really likes your overall aesthetic, and he can either relate to your experiences/or find you fascinating.

When he pulls for you, it was pure luck because he got both you and your weapon in one 10 pull. Futaba was jealous, Ryuji was stunned, Ann wished it was her, and Haru congratulated him. "This is not normal?" He asked, and it got mixed reactions from the crowd.

He rarely picks up the game, but when he does he always makes sure to set you as the character to greet him. He sometimes find inspiration/ideas after playing, and you have been the subject in a few art pieces of his. He realizes that whenever he is stuck in an impasse, sketching you or playing the game helps him get back on track. He also liked seeing fanart of you that were made by other fans.

Makoto

Also got dragged into it, and decided to check it out for Futaba. Might ask for help for the terminologies used in game, and the group chat gladly supplies information. She liked the storytelling of the game, and then she met your character. You quickly became a favorite because you were admirable.

In terms of merch collection, she goes for the ones that are useful like her Buchimaru-kun pencil case. If you have merch like a coffee mug or binder, she will go for that instead of a huge plushie or poster. She cherishes it just like she does with Buchimaru-kun.

Even if she does not drop the game because of her responsibilities, she still rarely plays it. Despite that, she might login if you have an event or role in the current story. Keyword is might.

Futaba

Truthfully, she only sent the invites out to get more of the currency used for pulling. While she already had you, she wanted to get more copies to make you stronger, or wanted to pull for a weapon that will greatly benefit you. Although, before that she made multiple accounts just so she can get you on the first ten pulls. It was quite an arduous progress.

She is very active in the fandom, and is probably a well-known figure within various social media. Most definitely runs an account dedicated to you, and also posts various headcanon/character interpretations of yours. She also gives the best advice on how to gear you up, and could be good with advising on how to build others when asked.

She has a lot of your merchandise, and is one the reasons she sometimes goes out. If you have a favorite food/signature dish, she might ask Sojiro or Joker to have it made for her. She also tends to talk about you a lot, either with Sumire or Joker. They start liking you through osmosis as well.

Haru

She was already playing the game when Futaba sent the invite. You were her favorite character because of your view on justice and/or you feel like someone she would get along with! She is cheering for you when you fight, her heart aches when you're sad, and she smiles when you triumph!

Safe to say that you are already maxed leveled, and fully built with the best gears. She also has quite the collection when it comes to your merchandise. She is a lurker in the fandom, she likes leaving likes or a few short comments on certain fan arts of you. Sometimes when she feels sad or feels like she needs that extra push, she will login the game quickly just to hear your encouragements.

Even when she's no longer as interested on the game as she was before, she still logins every once in a while just to see you. It was as if she was checking in on a friend; you hold a very special place in her heart.

Goro

Futaba accidentally sent him an invite, but he decided to check the contents anyways. He was mindlessly exploring the game's mechanics and storyline when you caught his eyes. Your character probably had a compelling philosophy, or your outfit/moves reminded him of Featherman.

He doesn't have time to grind through the content, so he probably spent money to obtain your character and all the gears you need. You are severely overpowered compared to his other characters. He does not have the time every day to login, but usually when he does it's mainly to listen to you. He really likes hearing your voice.

Outside of the game, he collects your merchandise diligently and displays them next to his Featherman figures. He also has some of your more 'discreet' merchandise on him at all times. He has a coffee mug with your symbol on it, and/or a keychain of an iconic part of your outfit connected to his phone.

Sumire

Futaba finally convinced her to play, so she decided to check it out! She heard a lot about your character through Futaba, so you were the one she was most interested in. When she finally sees you in-game, she was smiling. You became a favorite because of your kind nature, and/or your talents are similar to hers.

She plays the game casually, so when she finally got you, she does not bother getting the limited gears. She just enjoys exploring the world with you, and sometimes with Futaba and Joker.

It is unclear whether she continues playing the game, but she likes hearing updates about your character development, and your overall progression through the story from Futaba. She is cheering you on, from a far!