#ik its under read more but it is . LONG!!!!!!! :]

[coyoxxtl]

My dislike for Haytham isn’t petty little fandom drama I start for no reason. I know most of y’all will think that but understand, we play a video game about REAL events. ac3 is historical fiction with political intrigue centered around a native protagonist, and him being native is integral to the story. there were REAL people who lived those same events and REAL people who experienced the fallout. we aren’t having useless wank about steven universe characters, there is weight to the discussions held about ac3. and the opinions you have about the politics, events, and characters reflect where you may stand about the same issues in real life. This is not a story I care about memeifying or to be fandom brained about. Haytham and Ratonhnhaké:ton may be fictional people but their conflicts, values, and beliefs are based in reality, a reality a bunch of real living people have been/continue to be affected by. So yea, you will be confronted you if you’re acting like a jackass about stories and characters like this.

I was in this fandom for a long time, I followed ac3 since the literal beginning. it’s so ingrained in me that I still talk about it even when I have since moved on from it. but Inremember being a teen and being so excited for this game because of Ratonhnhaké:ton specifically. he was an incredibly exciting character to look forward to as a mestizo (mixed spanish&native), and I know for a fact I wasn’t the only one. He was so, so fucking important for people like me. and Ubisoft knew it because they advertised the hell out of him, the promos, the sneak peaks into the game development showing how hard they’re worked to be as accurate as possible, it was all made so we can be excited for Ratonhnhaké:ton. We were getting a native protagonist who was raised in his village, spoke his native language, his main conflict ties directly into his native identity. We never see this come out of the video game industry.

but you start the game and you have to play Haytham for like 2 hours before you even get to Ratonhnhaké:ton. weird choice to make you wait that long to start a main story. keep playing and the narrative is being Weirdly sympathetic to the violent colonizing Templars, trying to make the seem “morally grey” which is…A Choice, when you remember what this game was supposed to be about and how it wasn’t something they did in the Ezio trilogy, Templars were established bad guys in every game but the first. Bringing back the nuances of the assassin vs templar conflict was Not the move when your assassins are native and black and templars are all white.

And worst of all, when you look into what the fandom was/is saying, it’s wall to wall bad faith opinions and straight up racism towards Ratonhnhaké:ton, along with how much Haytham is ADORED by the vocal majority, to the point most people wanted the game to be about him instead. People talked about and made more content about Haytham more than Ratonhnhaké:ton, calling him the real good guy, even though he was a backstabbing colonizer. And since this is a game that was supposed to be about a native man getting backstabbed by colonizers, I really fucking hated seeing it. I hated how this game that made me excited to see representation turned into everyone ignoring that immediately and focusing on the main white guy.

not to mention the Forsaken novel, when that came out, it wasn’t even about Ratonhnhaké:ton despite him being on the cover. Just more Haytham crap again but written much shittier. Then ac rogue came out, just more excuses to keep cranking out “templars are good actually” content to put Haytham into shit, even if it meant retconning so much of the og story. at this point ubi and the fanbase already favor him. Seriously, compare all the content and cameos Haytham got to Ratonhnhaké:ton. Ubi has no issue using Ratonhnhaké:ton for marketing but when it came to giving him the spotlight in his own story and dedicated time period they can’t even bother. He just became an accessory to Haytham to make us feel bad about him.

Like I don’t hate Haytham for no reason. In fact I enjoy his role in the original narrative because there’s a lot to discuss and analyze with him. but I played ac3 because I wanted to play a native story. but it was sabotaged to make room for a character that had no business getting that attention. It showed me the realities of “representation” done by corporations and how it will never be authentic or in the best interests of who they’re representing. Because as soon as enough white people complain they will abandon it in a heartbeat. Haytham’s favoritism in both the fandom and by Ubisoft is racism, plain and simple. And many of you need to come to terms with that.

[damselneedssaving]

BATBOYS BUT THEY WITNESS A STRANGER PULL F!READER INTO A HUG AND CLAIM TO BE HER BOYFRIEND. FT. MARK GRAYSON! P.T.1

★ TAGS: older!damian wayne, older!duke thomas, everyone is 18+, mention of death, romance, mark is utterly devoted to you, jealousy, lots and lots of jealousy, little bit of dark!batboys, kind of dark!mark too

★ A/N: yes ik the pic is technically the mark variant who wears a shiesty but that's still mark and it's a hot pic so it's staying. anyway that poll on if y'all would read a mark grayson x reader fic alongside the batboys x reader was almost unanimously yes and i'm so happy because of it 🤭

★ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ★ | ★ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ★

YOU DON'T KNOW HOW YOU ENDED UP HERE—

—trapped in the embrace of a stranger.

One moment, you're in your kitchen, preparing a nice, hot bowl of popcorn for both you and your house guests—the next?—you're at your door, stood rigid and tight and ever-so-still as your arms are pinned to your sides by another pair. A stronger pair.

A stranger's pair.

The embrace is warm, seeping with this longing you've only ever felt from Dick that one time he returned from a mission that lasted way longer than it should've; that one time he hugged you swearing he'd never let go.

But even then... Dick did eventually pull away.

Something about this stranger's tight grip tells you they won't.

Your name is whispered, breathed out on the tongue of whoever it is holding you as he squeezes just that tad bit more, just that tad bit tighter.

It's strange. You're sure you've never met this man in your life, yet something about his embrace feels familiar, intimate in a way no stranger could ever imitate. 

No stranger but this one at least.

You can ponder on it for all but a few more seconds before a new warmth is on your shoulder—this time: a recognisably familiar one—and without being given a moment to even blink, you're yanked out of the embrace of the stranger, vision flooded with the broad back of your dear friend as a click bounces off the walls of your once quiet apartment.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't lodge this bullet between your eyes."

Jason stands before you, finger nestled snug against the trigger of his gun like it's just waiting for the opportunity to pull it, like he's just as eager to give it the command to do so.

The stranger puts his hands up, and it's just then that you realise he's clad in a skin-tight suit. Yellow and blue. With goggles over his eyes. 

"I don't want any trouble."

"Yeah?" scoffs Jason, "Well you shoulda thought of that before pulling up at princess here's door."

"[Name], get behind me," Dick calls from further in your apartment, a hand quick to spread out over your clothed stomach and push you even further back than before.

You know by the way your light starts to flicker that Duke's also on guard, and you can't imagine that Tim or Damian are that far off either.

The tension in the room is thick—heavy in the air and just as swallowing—the boys' muscles all taut. It's as though they're ready to lunge the moment just a strand of hair moves out of place.

You try to swallow, but all that goes down your throat is sandpaper.

He catches it though.

The stranger's head tilts ever so slightly after your gulp, just enough so that you're fully in his field of view again.

From under those goggles, you can't really see his eyes, but the way his brows visibly pinch is enough for you to feel the desperation radiating off his form when he speaks your name again.

Dick moves to cover you further. "I don't think so, buddy."

"Look," the man states simply, head subtly moving back up, "I don't mean any harm, really. I just wanna see her."

"Tt." The slink of a sword slipping out its sheath sounds from behind you. "And what business is it that you have with her?"

The stranger tilts his head again, letting out a frustrated grunt when Dick only moves to counter once more. "[Name] please," he whispers, tone uneven, watery and wavering, "it's me: Mark—"

Then he does something unlike your boys, unlike any vigilante you've ever seen really, and he moves his hand up to his mask, slipping it off with the ease and trust of someone not currently at the door of a stranger's house.

"—Your boyfriend?"

You can't even fully observe his face before a bang bounces off the walls of your home.

Your eyes widen, pupils shaking and hand already pushing Dick to the side as you hiss out a severely pissed, "Jason!" 

But before you can even think of screaming your heart out at him, of having a go at your friend for shooting an innocent person at your door, your mouth falls agape, muscles tensing just as much as the rest of the vigilantes you know as you catch sight of what you're sure should've been a dead man on the ground.

Except he isn't dead. And he's nowhere near the ground.

In fact, he's floating off of it, brows now furrowed and lips pulled tight into a snarl as he yells, "What the hell, man?! You just shot me!"

"And you aren't dead," Jason replies through gritted teeth. "Why the fuck aren't you dead?"

"Not to worry," Damian replies before the stranger—before Mark—can, "I'll fix that."

All it takes is the lights flickering once more and the sound of a staff whirling in the wind for you to snap out of your little stupor, for you to see and hear and feel everything around you once again.

And once you do, your voice rings clear and final.

"Enough."

The boys tense, forms faltering as their eyes finally leave the stranger to fall on you.

You take a step forward.

Duke blocks your way.

"Duke." Your arms fold over your chest, his name stern and heavy on your tongue.

"[Name]"—his brows furrow—"you can't be serious. This is a stranger. A meta too, no less."

"And you aren't?" You quirk a brow. His jaw ticks. "He hasn't done anything. All he did was hug me."

"That doesn't mean he won't do anything," he retorts stubbornly. "That doesn't mean he can't do anything." Then, his tone softens, brows scrunching a little as he regards you with a look all too warm and familiar. "I don't wanna lose you. Not you."

Your arms uncross, one hand gesturing out as you return his gentle look. "And you won't. I promise. Just let me talk to him."

You can tell he's reluctant, can see it in the way his jaw is still tense and his eyes suddenly can't meet your own. But you also know Duke, and you know that he's a hero—one that, if given the chance, will choose the option of peace over all else.

And so, his shoulders fall, and he steps to the side to allow you through, to which you flash him a grateful smile before taking a step forward...

...only to be blocked by yet another wall, one now back to facing the person floating at your door.

"Jason," you call, but he doesn't so much as spare you a glance. "Jason."

His jaw squares, the only sign you have that he's hearing you.

"Put the gun down."

But he doesn't listen. He hears you but he doesn't listen. Because of course he doesn't listen. You're speaking to Jason Peter Todd, when the fuck does he ever listen?

"Jason!"

"I'm not putting the gun down until he's bleeding on the fucking floor."

The meta snarls at Jason's words, and the latter is quick to return it with his own look of disdain, blood boiling enough for heat waves to be visible in the air around him, for even the hottest lava to envy what courses through his veins.

"Then get out of my way so that I can speak to him."

The man lets out a sound halfway between a scoff and a laugh. "And let him feed you another lie to bring down your guard some more? I don't think so."

"I'm not lying," Mark hisses, floating just a tad bit closer.

"Oh yeah?" Jason tilts his head to the side, eyes glinting in that familiar way it does when he mocks a crook. "Why don't you say that to your so-called girlfriend? Because to me, it doesn't look like she even knows who you are at all."

That seemed to have hit a nerve, because the next thing you know, Mark is lunging forward, and Jason is just narrowly dodging his shove, rolling to the side and letting out another bullet in his direction.

You're only able to blink once before your form is engulfed, covered by the oldest brother in the room as he regards you with soft, gentle eyes.

Yours only scrunch in return.

"Dick, let go of me."

He tosses a glance over his shoulder as another bang rings out. "Don't think that's the best idea right now, princess."

"Dick."

He meets your gaze again.

"It's either you let me go so that I can break up the fight, or you let me go so that you can break up the fight. Your pick."

He holds your gaze for a few seconds, eyes wide and disbelieving. "You can't be serious."

You don't say a word, and he blinks owlishly.

"You're serious."

"Deadly."

"Okay, fuck," he curses, head turning to the side as his eyes all but seem to run through a dozen different scenarios at once, acting more like a computer screen than sclera.

Then, after at least two more seconds pass, he turns back to you, shoulders falling in quiet resignation.

"Fine. Stay here. I'll break it up. You're not going anywhere near that fight on my watch."

You feel the way your shoulders fall at his words, a wave of relief crashing over you like a sudden change in tide as you flash Dick a smile much like the one you gave Duke earlier and he starts to slowly get up with a roll of his shoulders.

"Alright you two, break it up."

Mark pauses, and Jason takes the opportunity to lunge, but before his arms can even graze the meta human, Dick hooks them under his own, and you quickly take the opportunity to put yourself between the three men.

You then proceed to waste no time to deliver a mountain of fury to the man who started the fight.

"Really, Jason?"

He pauses his struggling against his brother.

"I mean, seriously"—you throw your arms out in front of you, scoffing the words on your tongue out in disbelief so heavy, it fogs your vision—"you're a grown ass man, starting fights like a child, over something as small as someone claiming to be my boyfriend?"

He opens his mouth to retort, but purses his lips once you send him a narrow look, opting instead to scoff and turn his head to the side.

"Oh, and don't think I didn't notice you two getting ready to join in, Tim, Damian." You turn your stern gaze to the other two currently armed individuals in the room, and they both mirror their brother's reaction to a tee.

It's funny, really, how they react like children being scolded for something like drawing on the walls rather than grown men who were planning on murdering someone in the comfort of your home.

Or at least, Jason was.

Geez, you really thought you had this talk with him already, that he'd changed his previous ways and swapped out his real bullets for rubber ones, that he'd sworn off killing for the rest of his life.

Guess not.

You pinch your nose, taking in a breath and counting up to ten just like your momma taught you when you were little, just like you always do when your veins get a little too heated for your own good.

Each second in your head is a second the heat flushes out your system—and your muscles unscrew themselves from the stiff boards this whole night reduced them to—until eventually, you can feel yourself finally calming down.

Then you open your eyes again and witness the mess that is your living room, and all that effort flushes down the drain.

"Look"—you find yourself sighing, turning to face the still-floating Mark as you address him with heavy eyes—"Mark, was it?"

In an instant, he lowers himself to your height, and now that there's no goggles in the way anymore, you witness the true extent of the way his eyes stare at you, wide, unwavering, like you're the only one they truly see.

It sends a shiver down your spine.

You swallow air. "...I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong girl. I've never seen or met you in my life. I don't even have a boyfriend."

At that, his shoulders fall, sagging in a way that has you biting your lip and half-contemplating taking it all back if it meant you'd get to see that look on his face again.

Wait... what?

"Right..." Mark starts, his solemn tone enough to pull you straight out of your thoughts. "Different dimension. My bad."

His words, though muttered, couldn't have been louder to your ears, and you raise your head in time with the rest of your friends, eyes wide and trained onto him.

"I'm sorry..."

He glances up at your voice.

"...Did you just say 'different dimension'?"

TAGLIST: @silas-222, @bloofairyfox, @wiseavenuelove, @inkycapps, @velovicy, @mmentallyelsewhere, @verysynical, @1abi, @bluepartywobblernickel

[jigeuminunbich]

what a girl wants | park jisung (m)

synopsis — after tapping out early into your first-time, jisung refuses to be a fool in front of you again. gathering reinforcements, he arms himself in preparation to please you when the next time comes for you both to be intimate. and boy, does he learn a lot.

genre — nonidol!au (inexperienced!jisung x experienced!reader), fem!reader, mature (smut), and established relationship

minors dni, please ! (nsfw tags under the cut)

content — probably needs another proof read, men explaining sex, multiple scenes of ji lasting a millisecond (jk, jk), pet-names (pretty, babe, baby), reader naturally takes on a bit of a dominate role, brief missionary, cunniligus, overstimulation, hair-pulling, unprotected probone, even more missionary, ear play + sucking, creampie, and a tiny off-hand joke about dh offering to fawk jisung

word count — 6k

author’s note — listen, ik virtually everyone came out of tds3 loving chenle (rightfully so) but personally, i’ve been on jisung timing since my stop teehee 🤭

I. ACT ONE

Jisung had dreamed of this moment much more than he’d care to admit to. You both had been dating for nearly a year and had yet gotten to the point of stark intimacy, well, until now.

It was breathtaking really, seeing you under him. He couldn’t believe this was his reality, that you were actually doing this with him. That was all he could think about when you first initiated it. He let you take the lead, per usual, but this time it reached a point where he was eager to agree when you asked if he was ready.

Though, at this moment, he was coming to regret that excited confirmation he had delivered earlier.

“Oh,” you verbalized from the junction of Jisung’s neck following the sudden stall in his movements. “Did you…?”

A faint whimper escapes from Jisung’s lips, visibly coming down from his evident climax. You watch as Jisung’s eyes flutter open, his face soon contorting into a look of sheer horror, dropping his head to where your bodies met to witness the scene completely for himself.

“Oh my god…” he mumbles in what you read as bewilderment, his head snapping back to speak to you.

“___, I am so sorry.” Jisung sputters out immediately.

A fond laugh fights its way through you, and you shake your head to mask it away. “No, no. It’s okay, Ji’…”

You try to comfort him, but his flushed face remains puffy with frustration. Your hands that come to coddle his bloated cheeks do little to soothe his nerves. Jisung huffs, undoubtedly upset with himself.

“Hey, look at me.” You urge his gaze to meet your own, he finds your eyes soft and a tender smile playing at your lips. Jisung finds his heart rate slowing at this, the pad of your thumb that smoothes over his tense jaw aiding in his relaxation.

“We can stop, if you want?”

Jisung inhales sharply, squeezing his eyes shut as if once he opens them back up that this moment will have never happened. But you’re still there, waiting patiently for his answer.

He thinks for a moment. There was a thought that spoke to him, to keep going as he knew how long you both had waited for this night. But the weight of his reality felt like it was physically crushing him too much to listen.

“Uh, yeah. I think that’d be best…” He answers meekly and you reluctantly nod.

His room falls silent besides from the rustling of you assisting him with pulling out and the bed creaking under his weight as he plops in the spot next to your body. You regretfully sit up after only experiencing time on your back momentarily, sparing a solemn look to Jisung who’s large hands hide his face.

“You okay?” Your voice is gentle as you probe him.

Jisung clears his throat, revealing his face briefly when he sits up on his elbows to address you. It’s painted a furious pink from what you assume is his embarrassment and shimmers with sweat. “Yeah, I just—uh— need a minute.”

Understanding of him, you decide to slip away to handle yourself. “Okay, well, I’ll be in the bathroom.”

“Mhm.” Jisung nods, watching you intently as you slide from the mattress, grabbing his once discarded tee, and trail to the nearby bathroom before disappearing behind the door.

His body meets his bed again with a thud, shielding his hot face away with his hands once again.

II. JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE

It takes a number of business days before Jisung can even work up the courage to see you in person, let alone mention what had transpired that night. The memory had been gnawing away at him since, every time he blinked, or tried to sleep, your nonplus reaction to his “premature” arrival was all he could see.

There was no way he could bring it up in conversation just yet… at least not to you.

“You what?!” Renjun exclaims in absolute horror.

“He lasted thirty seconds!” Chenle gleefully responds for Jisung, still coming down from the belly-splitting laughing fit he had just went through before informing Renjun.

Brazenly (and stupidly), Jisung had decided he was fed up with his set of circumstances— trusting his best-friend and roommate, Chenle, with the information that had landed him in this unfortunate position.

But very quickly, he realized just how much of a mistake that was.

Jisung sighs frustratedly— sparing the brunette a piercing glare before angling his attention back to Renjun, “It was more like a minute and a half…”

“Oh, Jisung, that’s still not good.” Renjun comes over, slowly sitting on the opposite side of his junior.

“I know.” Jisung physically slumps in his spot, a cutesy pout on his face.

A tight-lipped, earnest smile graces Renjun’s face and he places a comforting hand on Jisung’s shoulder. “Did you at least help her?”

Jisung asks blankly, confused. “With what?”

Renjun pauses alongside Chenle, both of them sharing a horrified look while Jisung glances between them like a baby dear.

“You didn’t help her?!” Chenle screeches, eyes bulging and eyebrows angled in complete confusion.

“Do what?!” Jisung bellows, now frustrated.

“Jisung, even I know what you’re supposed to do for your girlfriend in the event you.. finish early…” Renjun voices deeply and careful enough for his friend’s digestion.

Jisung pauses for a moment, picking apart Renjun’s words before making a face of understanding.“I— oh, well she said she’d take care of it!”

“Still,” Renjun sighs, taking a moment to calm himself. “you’re supposed to offer, man.”

“I’ve got to tell Mark about this…” Chenle shakes his head, already typing in the group chat.

III. SECOND OPINION(S)

“Dude…”

Mark’s face is twisted in an expression Jisung can only decipher as disbelief, a common emotion he’s encountered since filling in his friend group on his situation.

“I know, I know. It’s not a good look.”

Donghyuck scoffs amusedly, having stopped in on the conversation after overhearing the absurd topic. “It’s an awful look, actually. How do you cum in thirty seconds without getting your girl off after?”

“It wasn’t—“ Jisung sighs, gathering himself. “I don’t know. I have no idea what I’m doing.” He recedes, sinking into the material of the couch that supported him, Mark, and Jaemin.

“Well, ___ knows this, right?” Jeno pipes from beside Donghyuck after remaining silent the whole debriefing session.

Jisung shifts in his spot, shrinking from the burning gazes of his friends as they wait for him to overshare. “Yeah, I mean, we talked about it before. But she has experience, and— I dunno— I thought I’d at least do okay…”

“Ah, Jisung. No ones ever perfect doing anything for the first time.” Jaemin plants a rather rough yet consoling pat on the younger’s back.

“I was.” Donghyuck interjects, a smug look on his face while shrugging his shoulders.

Renjun scoffs, shoving the back of the former’s head from his positioning— leaning over the same couch Donghyuck happened to be sprawled across. “You cried.”

“Aht!��� Donghyuck rubs his head, snapping around to correct his friend. “That was the second time!”

Mark sighs deeply, drawing the attention away from his friends’ squabble. “Jisung, have you both talked about it since?”

Jisung anxiously plays with his ear, pouting. “Well, no, even if I wanted to I just don’t know what I’d say…” It was a true concern for him. He had muddled over the scenario in his about a dozen times at this point, and every time he couldn’t find the appropriate words to say to you— even if you weren’t even really there.

“Sorry for only lasting thirty seconds?” Chenle wickedly suggests, earning yet another warning glare from Jisung.

“Ou, if you don’t know how to say it, you could always get a cake!” Donghyuck piles on, promptly earning another wack to his head— this time Jeno is the unamused culprit.

“Look, next time you see her, just be honest.” Jaemin advises, effectively drowning out the whining of his battered friend who claimed Chenle deserves the lashings because he commented first.

Jisung nods, considering it but not with another issue forming in his mind. “Okay, well… what about… you know...”

“The sex?” A handful of them chime in response.

The younger boy’s lips form a tight, shy line, obviously still finding the topic a bit taboo. “Yes, yes— that. What am I supposed to do? I don’t want a repeat of last time…”

“Just watch a bunch of porn, that’s what I did.” Donghyuck recommends, still testing his luck.

Exhausted, Renjun simply lets his eyes pierce into the back of his friend’s head for a moment before sighing.

“How about we don’t do that and just give you some pointers, hmm?”

Jisung claps his hands together, liking that nugget of advice way more than Donghyuck’s, who sits offended, tongue infamously poking his cheek.

“Okay, sounds good.”

IV. H.T.P.A.S.Y.G 101

Now, when Jisung was told that everyone would be meeting in he, Chenle, and Renjun’s shared living room to “give him pointers”, he didn’t necessarily expect to be surrounded by his friends while his television displayed a slide show.

Surprisingly, Donghyuck ran the operation with his laptop perched on the armrest on the opposite couch, even after his treatment the other night.

“Alright, Jisung, welcome to how to please and satisfy your girl 1-0-1!” Donghyuck stands at the center of the room, gesturing towards the screen that projects the title ‘H.T.P.A.S.Y.G 101’— along with throwaway stock photos of couples experiencing varied emotions.

“Woah. Did you make this?” Jisung voices, foolishly impressed with his friend’s set-up.

Donghyuck’s facials drop, “No. It was already a template on Canva.” He deadpans while Jisung makes a motion of understanding.

Collectively, his friends blink ludicrously at Jisung’s naïveté. “He made it, Jisung-ie…” Jaemin clarifies slowly.

“Ah,” the latter nods, embarrassment creeping up his skin.

Donghyuck shakes his head before putting the attention back on the screen where he flips to the next slide, automatically does Jisung pull out his phone to retain the coming information.

“Okay, first rule, don’t come in thirty seconds.”

A cacophony of snickers and tittering emerge from the group at Jisung’s expense.

“I— how long are you guys gonna run with this?” Jisung cringes, regretting all over again even including the detail of his duration.

The man in the center staggers back into his spot, pretending to wipe away fallen tears. “I’m sorry it’s too funny…”

“Now! It may seem hard but the last thing we want is a redo of what happened last time, yes?” Jisung nods shamefully, lips tight.

“Next rule, be a giver. Down the line you can find out whether or not she prefers it but to start, you wanna take charge and get your girl off.”

Jisung hums, his focus being the ever growing list on his phone-screen. Curious, Jeno peers over at him.

“A—are you seriously taking notes?” He furrows his brows at the open tab in Jisung’s notes app.

“Hey, he’s a diligent learner!” Donghyuck waves a warning finger towards Jeno before turning to reassure Jisung. “Don’t worry, Jisung, the best students study.”

He addresses his older friend’s defense of him briefly, already having questions about the lesson. “When we say… get her off— what do you mean?”

“Eat her out, Jisung.” Chenle interjects flatly.

“Oh.” Jisung’s head bobs slowly. “And how do I do that?”

The “teacher” sucks his teeth, “Christ, do we have to teach you everything?”

Jisung just blinks in response, earning a tired sigh from Donghyuck, “I’ll send you some material after class.”

“Okay.” Jisung nods.

“Third rule! Take it slow. Kind of ties back into rule one but can be used elsewhere. Listen, I know you’re a bit of a fumbling mess but at least try and make it seem like you know what you’re doing.”

Despite the directed jab, Jisung continues to diligently jot down Donghyuck’s advice.

“What does ___ like, do you know?” Mark pipes.

“Sexually?” The boy’s eyes go wide, a bit startled.

Mark snorts, “I’m not asking for her favorite food, man,”

Jisung breathes out a sheepish laugh, “Ah, well, she’s kinda sensitive around the ears…”

Donghyuck claps, startling Jisung but effectively grabbing his attention, “Alright, involve that! Kiss, lick, suck for all I care. You gotta do something that’ll turn her on, you can’t just whip your dick out and stop there, got it?”

“Got it.” Jisung re-affirms, intently copying down every word that leaves his friends’ mouths.

“Well, I think that’s enough for today,” Donghyuck nods, clearly proud of himself.

“Thank god.” Jaemin sighs exasperatedly, earning himself a warning look from Donghyuck. The latter rolls his eyes, smiling at Jisung who overviews what he’s learnt so far.

“You seem like you picked up well, I’ll quiz you after you watch the material.”

Jeno snorts, “You do know you’re not an actual teacher, right?”

Donghyuck smugly smirks, propping his hands onto his hips.

“Don’t be a hater, Jen’. If you want a lesson, you can just ask. Don’t think I forgot about what Iseul said— agh!” Swiftly, Jeno starts strangling Donghyuck to cut him off, the ladder dramatically flopping on the couch behind him and taking the older boy with him.

Using the commotion to his advantage, Renjun swoops in to take a seat next to Jisung, who quietly reviews his notes in the midst of the chaos.

“And Jisung,”

“Hmm?” The younger glances up from his notes.

“Don’t forget that the reason we’re here is because ___ likes you. Not what you can do for her in bed or any tricks these idiots are telling you to do…”

“Ah, okay.”

“I mean, we all mean well— even Donghyuck— but what matters most is that you’re yourself. That’s what ___’s most attracted to, right?”

“Yeah, I guess…” Jisung answers hesitantly.

“Right. Maybe you should watch that video Donghyuck sends you, though.” Renjun suggests a bit quieter, though his urgency remains evident.

Jisung laughs at his older friend, nodding in understanding. “Will do!”

V. ACT TWO

The next you spend genuine alone time with Jisung is two weeks following the whole incident, you’re grateful that he’s grown comfortable again with skin-ship. Missing nights like these where you two were able to wordlessly cuddle up together without an evident damper hanging over the room. Of course, you’d love to address that night. Maybe even give it another try but unless Jisung makes it clear that he’s comfortable with it, you suppress any and all thoughts about it.

Much to your liking, the night carried on like usual. No roommates to interrupt your skinship, or to witness the chaste kisses you gave each other. But in the midst of watching the second film Jisung had gladly let you choose— you realize just how touchy he’s getting.

A typical reserved hand that would be perched on your hip was playing with the hem of your shorts, igniting the bare skin with every brief graze.

Curious, you angle your head upwards on Jisung’s shoulder, immediately drawing his attention from the screen and down to you.

“You okay?” You inquire, an eyebrow raising. You tried to hide your excitement but the grin that found your features was an obvious giveaway that you were losing.

Jisung simply hums, his hands still stationed in their new territory. You nod, “Okay…” and instinctively crane your head up to signal a kiss.

Quickly, Jisung obliges, meeting you halfway and connecting your lips. Your intent was for it to be just like the other kisses that happened tonight. Quick, sweet, no alternative intent, but that was clearly not Jisung’s shared intention.

When you depart, he follows, and you have no problem in giving him what he wants. The kiss is extended, the hand on your thigh tightening in grip. You match Jisung’s vigor, equally biting at his lips and easing your tongue in his mouth when his own licks at your entrance. But you have to say you were not expecting this.

Soon, Jisung’s body was angled nearly on top of you and he showed no signs of stopping. Both hands now on your waist as he titled you backwards, still intently keeping your mouths fixed together.

“Oh, hello?” You manage to get out.

“Hi.”

Jisung takes control, which is very unusual since typically you’ll straddle him when making out. But you allow it to happen, your back meeting the bed as Jisung kisses you passionately. This kiss is much different than one you’ve ever shared with him, normally he’s way more reserved— even before your first time he was shy, but obviously a fire has been lit under him to redeem himself.

You’re the first to pull away, not moving far but just enough to be able to catch your breath. Jisung has never kissed you speechless before, but you’re okay if this was to become your new reality.

“Jisung…”

He ignores you, kissing down your neck while his large hands grope you. He's hungry, his teeth grazing against your skin in rotation with his suckling but his bruises still feel like heaven— you didn’t even know he was capable of leaving such marks.

Jisung’s cold hands are suddenly under your shirt, lifting the large garment that once belonged to him over your naked breasts. One of them even snaking down to your thin sleep shorts while the other remains to thumb at your now perked nipples.

“Oh— Jisung, wait!” Pausing your pleasure to confront your boyfriend.

He looks at you in surprise, as if he’s been caught doing something wrong.

“Are you sure about this?” You ask carefully.

“I wanna make you feel good…” he replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, you blink— slowly gathering yourself as Jisung continues to kiss down your abdomen and eventually to the center of your legs.

You stutter when you feel his hot breath on your core, it’s been so long you’ve had anything like this, you hate to say you’ve been waiting on it but fuck— you have been.

“Ji…” your hand cups the back of his nape, the other replacing his hand that once toyed with your chest.

Jisung gazes up at you, a look that reads that he’s asking you for permission. He quickly drinks up how he’s got you, shirt pushed to your over your breasts— leaving them on display, you look down at him— almost pained while you wait for his next move, lip tucked in between your teeth— a thumb to your own nipple.

Final inch of resolve snapping, Jisung flattens his warm tongue over your sleep shorts, humming instantaneously when his muscle meets the fabric. It’s lewd but he can’t help himself, especially when he encounters the already wet stain in the seat of your bottoms. He quickly gets to work, though, savagely his tongue ravishes you with one measly layer keeping him from fully tasting you.

The sight is one to see, your routinely sweet and respectful boyfriend with his head between your legs— tongue lapping and dancing around your cunt through your shorts.

You can barely take anymore, you need him. You didn’t care what his level of skill was, you needed more stimulation than this.

Jisungs jumps back a bit when you sit up to interrupt him, the shorts being slipped off. “Ji, please, please, keep going,” both of your legs are back on either side of his head, this time your bare, silky cunt on full display. No longer hidden by the baby blue bottoms.

You’re practically begging, your hips involuntarily shifting closer and closer to Jisung’s face as you wait. Jisung couldn’t believe his eyes, you’ve never really begged for him before. Not like this, so vulnerable. His tent had pitched ages ago but the strain he felt watching you now was a different kind of pain.

His newfound confidence falters a bit, wordlessly nodding up at you with wet eyes before obediently lapping at your cunt again. You throw your head back as a whimper rips through you, shifting back onto your elbows to play with your chest again. Not forgetting to keep one hand anchored in Jisung’s hair.

His movements are cautious at first, proving that this is definitely his first time but once he finds a pace that seemingly fits you best, he carries on with it. He alternates between sucking your throbbing clit to dipping his tongue deeper in your folds to tongue at your hole. You’d ask him where he learned that from but you’re too caught up with how good it feels that the question burns out on your tongue.

Before you know it, you’re close to coming already. With it being so long since you've had this, paired with the uncontrollable moans Jisung emits as he restlessly laps up all your juices, you can’t take much more.

“Fuck, Jisung. I’m close…”

Jisung hums, unaware just what that does for you. You whine pulling his hair tighter, in return it’s his turn to whimper. It’s uncomfortable, as he’s realized from the past times you’ve tugged his hair but he would never stop you.

“God, please don’t stop,” With Jisung’s locks entirely in your grasp, you can’t stop yourself from grinding your cunt upwards. Jisung takes a beat to adjust but realizes what you want, he shifts down a bit. The tip of his nose giving your clit the friction it so desperately desires while his tongue draws sloppy circles around your entrance.

You groan, the knot in your stomach tightening. You’re almost intelligible with your blubbering but Jisung manages to make out that you’re— in fact— about to come.

Jisung takes what he’s learned from his lessons and even earlier from this encounter and lets his tongue dip in and out of your hole faintly, giving you little stimulation that leads you closer while you grind on his face.

His quick shift leads your orgasm to come crashing down on you. Jisung’s face is pulled flush to your pussy as you come but he could care less, he watches keenly with wide eyes as you lurch upward, riding his face until you finally come down completely.

His room is still for a moment but Jisung is so absolutely enthralled with the moment and how he’s just made you unravel before him. Gluttonous, he doesn’t wait much longer before he’s dipping back into your folds. Lapping at you and especially your hole, he feels like a madman. The taste of you sends shivers down his spine, your surprised noises only egging him on.

“Oh my god, Ji! Wait, wait, oh,” the intrusion of Jisung’s middle finger is completely foreign but welcomed.

Where the hell was he learning this all from?

Jisung continues to work you open, never neglecting your folds and clit for a moment.

“Ji, if you don’t stop,” you shudder, trying to gather your bearings. “I’m gonna come.”

“Want it,” he moans against your pussy. “Do it again for me, pretty.”

It feels as if you’ve been thrown into the Twilight Zone. Never has Jisung said your nickname in such a tone, so deep and dripping with lust. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, taking your mind off his dual stimulation for just a moment.

With the addition of Jisung’s lengthy digit that now pops in and out of you, it doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to hit, you cry out for your boyfriend again— this time instinctively begging for some control. But your pleas fall on deaf ears, it’s like he’s dead set on keeping his face between your legs, it’s becoming too much at this point. If you two were gonna do this, you wanted him to get something out of it too.

“Fuck, Jisung, too much!”

Jisung snaps from his reverie, all of his ministrations drawing back with his head peeking from between your thighs in concern. You’re finally able to catch your breath, smiling down at him to quell his apparent anxiety. Shyly, he smiles back.

He clears his throat, “Are you okay?”

You laugh at this, still struggling to stabilize your breathing while your body pulsed with what could either be desire or exhaustion. “I am. Better than ever, actually. Are you?”

“Mhm. I uh— I didn’t hurt you or anything?”

“No, Ji, I just don’t think I’d be able to take another orgasm just yet.”

“Oh, okay.” He nods.

You giggle at him, how insane was it that he completely left you dumbstruck on two separate occasions just seconds ago and was acting all reserved the next.

“C’mere,” you open up your arms to him. He rushes to you. Giving you what you want and joining your lips. He's completely unaware just how wet his face is until it’s on your’s and he finds it a bit embarrassing.

But you don’t falter at all, instead kissing him deeply while your hands unmistakably find the boner hitched in his sweats.

Jisung stutters, physically jolting out of the kiss. “Uh, do you wanna move onto that so soon?”

“Well, I don’t want to be the only one who gets off. That’s not fair to you, is it?”

“I’ll be happy as long as you’re satisfied…”

“Ji,” you wipe away your juices that have gathered on his chin.

“Hmm?”

“I’m only satisfied when I know you are too, now, strip.”

Jisung nearly lets a ‘yes, ma’am’ slip from his throat before he hurriedly slips off his clothes. You laugh at how cute he is, removing your own shirt.

“Now, boss, how do you wanna do this?”

“Uh— however you want—“

“Jisung.”

He sighs at the call of his name from your lips, gulping as you stare up to him. “How about… on your stomach?”

“Oh? You don’t want to see my pretty face, hmm?”

“No! I mean, of course I do! You don’t have to—“

“Ji, baby, I’m fucking with you. I’d love to.” with that you roll over, grabbing one of Jisung’s pillows before slipping it under you.

“Oh.” Jisung sighs, the sight of you obeying him and propping yourself up effectively sending more strain to his member.

“Well don’t stop now, come on,” you reach a hand back for Jisung to grab. He obliges, walking to the edge of the bed, and grabbing your hand. He recalls this position from the couple of ”study materials” Donghyuck had sent and he joins you on the bed, shuffling on his knees till his cock hovers your ass.

You shift under him, hiking your ass higher to encourage him to stick his length in. He takes the message and grips his cock, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard before.

When he finally lines himself up and sinks inside of you, he hisses while you whimper. Jisung’s hands are practically godsend but nothing, and you mean nothing compares to his dick. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since your first time. And always found yourself a tad bit disappointed whenever he would turn you down following it.

“Fuck, Ji, you’re so big, baby,” you groan, trying to adjust as his heavy cock continues to stretch you open.

Jisung can only huff, holding onto his last ounce of control. He's about to come, he can feel it. His hips still, knowing if he moves anymore he’ll end up spoiling this again.

“Oh, please keep moving,” you whine, taking matters into your own hands and pushing your hips back to pick up where he has left off.

“Shit, ___, wait—“ Jisung braces his broad hands against your back, stilling you for a moment. Your head cranes back, concerned but still evidently in need.

“I— I’m about to come…” he speaks weakly, almost as if he’s embarrassed. Which he absolutely is.

You pout, confused with his display of shame.

“That’s fine, baby. Just don’t stop, please, I need you.” The sound of you begging while continuing to grind your ass on his cock sends Jisung absolutely reeling. His eyes squeeze shut, sighing heavily before allowing you to meet him halfway. Your own movements make you purr in delight, you continue to grind against him, and Jisung finds his hips moving too.

He snaps into you, chasing your cunt when you pull away. You moan in surprise, Jisung finally melting and leaning down to stabilize himself as his hips find a shallow pace.

He groans, hiding his flustered face in the junction of your shoulder.

“___…” Jisung pants.

“It’s okay, you can come, fuck, come for me, baby…”

It takes one sharp thrust before Jisung completely loses himself, releasing an almost pained groan into your neck. He continues to jaggedly move in and out of you while you feel him release himself in you, his load spurting along your walls and escaping onto the surrounding areas.

You helplessly moan at the feeling, a bit disappointed when your boyfriend’s eager hips cease to a stop.

“Hmm. Feel better?” You lilt, propping your chin on your shoulder to get the best glimpse of him.

Jisung shudders, breathing out a small laugh. “Yeah, I— sorry…”

“It’s okay, babe. Now, pull out.”

“Hmm? Oh, right!” He heeds to your directions, easing out of you but not without some slither of sadness. He had done it again. Sure, he made you cum but he barely lasted a few minutes inside of you like he had hoped.

Promptly, you shuffle onto your back, cracking your legs open. Shocked, Jisung’s gaze drops to your cunt, now messily decorated with a glistening mix of his semen, saliva, and your own cum.

“You didn’t think that was it, did you?”

Jisung blinks because he absolutely thought you two were finished for the night. You chuckle, hooking your legs around Jisung’s thighs.

“I’m not done with you just yet, Ji’…”

It’s hard for Jisung to shield his excitement, gladly positioning himself in front of you. He grips himself to align with you once again, allowing his other hand to plant by your head.

He could die right now and be absolutely satisfied, Jisung thinks as you suck him back in your walls. His face hovers your own, watching intently as your features scrunches in pleasure.

Quickly adjusting to the sensation of him stretching you out again, you take note of how statuesque he is,“Move, babe.” You gently remind.

“Right, sorry—“ Jisung takes a moment to laugh at himself, garnering an endeared smile from you.

Your hands extend up to hold his face. “No more apologizing, okay?” Jisung nods along with you in response, his heart swelling at your tender act of affection despite him being several inches inside of you.

“Okay, sor— ahem, okay…” you giggle at his immediate slip up, and Jisung arranges his hips in a way that instantly takes your mind off of it, starting to rock into you once more, now both having climaxed once (or twice, in your case)— sensitivity strikes you both but there’s no way that was gonna stop either of you.

“Feel so good,” you hum.

“Yeah?” Jisung asks, innocently, keeping his rhythm as sound as possible.

“Mhm. Don’t stop, okay?”

“I won’t.” Jisung solidifies, finding confidence in being able to see your face and how you visually react to his movements. His hips begin to reel back a greater distance, snapping into you with a fervor that leaves you crying for more.

The obscene sound of Jisung’s thighs repeatedly crashing into your own fill the room, paired with the whine of his name from your lips and the sploshing sound of the wetness between your legs.

Unfortunately, Donghyuck’s voice echoes in his mind, but for good reason. Removing himself from your hold a bit, Jisung leans down to start pecking your ear.

You hum in satisfaction, shuddering under him.

He knew you well, he could still recall the first time he accidentally grazed the area of your ear with his lips. You lurched away with embarrassment washing over you but he had found it to be one of the cutest things in the world. Not many things could pacify you like that, but a little love to your ear did.

You arch yourself into your boyfriend when his tongue darts out of his mouth to flick the shell of your ear, your new positioning encouraging the depth of Jisung’s length. It doesn’t help that Jisung has found his pacing, a mind-numbing repetition of the head of his cock grazing the precise spot that leaves your vision spotty with stars.

“Shit, M’gonna come,” you aimlessly exclaim, the strength you’d usually have to filter your thoughts from useless babble existing no longer.

Jisung hums, continuing to lap at your ear, taking Donghyuck’s nonchalant advice and running with it. You gasp in elation when you feel Jisung suckle at your ear, nipping it before it leaves his mouth.

“Fuck, who taught you this?” Restless, you bring his face back to meet yours, you find your boyfriend’s pupils completely blown out and eyes lidded heavily. You trace his furrowed eyebrows to his parted puffy lips.

Jisung leans down, your inquiry not reaching him whatsoever. Your lips meet and you whimper into the kiss, it’s wet and noisy. Your muscles searching for the best taste of each other.

Your third orgasm was barrelling towards you quickly, and you find yourself looking for anything to give you stability. Mindlessly, your hand traces the distance from Jisung’s face to one of his hands that remains planted on the bed beside you.

Without a second thought does he intertwine your fingers, pressing your joined palms into the mattress as he begins to lose momentum.

“Please keep going,” you wail. ”I’m gonna come.”

Jisung nods, his lips tucked between his teeth as he tries to keep himself together for you. He watched you contort and writhe in pleasure, now becoming familiar with your body’s pattern before a climax.

Your free hand travels to Jisung’s broad back, leaving traces of yourself with savagely placed scratches. He winces, the sting of your fingernails against his back throwing him off but simultaneously driving him to keep going. His own features scrunching to alert you that he himself was close to snapping.

“Ah, please, please—!” You whine, bracing yourself, deliberately pulling Jisung flush to you the best you could to milk to most friction out of him as possible. Your shallow yank is enough to have the large man toppling over and on top of you.

The desired stimulation of your clit grazing against Jisung is enough to coax your next orgasm out of you. You cum, angling your hips to take as much as Jisung could still offer. It doesn’t take long for him to be right there with you, whining while his hips buck aimlessly into you. Your sounds are equal in desperation, both racing to chase your highs.

“Oh.” Your hands aid Jisung’s hips toward you as he continues to release his seed inside of you until he finally fully collapses onto your body.

Serenity returns to Jisung’s room, the pair of you well past the point of exhaustion to move an inch. Jisung, seemingly coming to, is the first to move (much to your dismay). He grunts, peeling himself from your sticky with sweat body and peering down at you for a moment.

It lingers, his study of you. And typically, he was the one who would shy away from such intense eye contact but you find your eyes flitting away first. You’ve never had someone be so engrossed with you, with your satisfaction, so worried with pleasing you.

Jisung breathes out a laugh, “What?”

“Nothing.” You shake your head, equally as giddy.

“You’re shy?”

“No,” you suck your teeth, fighting the smile that threatens to give you away, “just wanna know why you’re staring…”

“Mm. Is staring at my pretty girlfriend so wrong?”

“…Hmm,” you pause as if you’re thinking for a moment. “No. I guess not.” You shrug.

“Good.” Jisung bends down to peck your lips before fully removing himself from on top of you. He sighs when his back flops on the bed beside you.

“Okay but seriously, where the hell did all of that come from?”

Jisung chuckles at the urgency in your voice, shifting to lay on his side. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you…”

“Pfft. After tonight I think I’m more open to any possibilities…”

“Hmm… okay, it was Donghyuck.” Jisung admits bashfully.

Immediately does your mouth gape open in absolute disbelief. “No fucking way.”

“See!”

“Donghyuck—? He taught you all of that?!”

“Well, I studied and kind of just… went with the flow I guess?” Jisung shrugs as if it’s nothing.

“Wow. For a second there I was scared he gave you one-on-one lessons…”

“Woah,” Jisung blinks, shocked that you precisely assumed what he had purposefully left out of the exchange. “Believe it or not, he tried.”

“I believe it,” You giggle, the ridiculous image flashing in your mind and leaving just as quick as it came.

“I guess I have to give him his flowers then.” you sigh, a hand extending to brush away Jisung’s fallen fringe so you can fully see his face. He fights a smile back, helping you by sweeping his hair back.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… I don’t think I have to tell you how great you were.” You snort, gesturing to your tired body. Jisung gladly follows your gaze, admiring your bareness once more.

Jisung hums, throwing an arm around your damp abdomen to tug you closer into him. You wordlessly oblige, sighing contently when your skin meets his again.

“Well, I think you were the star.” Jisung comments softly, his face now in your neck.

You coo silently, instinctively placing a hand on his jaw. “As much as I’d like to take credit, I can’t,” Jisung’s gaze shifts to your face when you tilt his head up.

“Not when you helped me through three orgasms.”

You peck your boyfriend’s lips as a form of punctuation. Though, you’re not able to drift far since Jisung’s mouth chases your own, deepening your once innocent kiss. You’re tired and your lips are beyond bruised but you just can’t help yourself. The way he hums from underneath you only intensifies your need for him.

While your mouth moves against his with conviction, tonguing at his lips to allow you more freedom, he finds his hands gravitating to your hips to give him some stability. Jisung sighs discontentedly when your lips disconnect, his eyes remaining shut for a beat before fluttering back open.

“Well, how do you feel about a fourth?” Jisung proposes carefully, though his expression shows that he’s clearly desperate for your agreement and for your lips to return to his own.

Quickly, your eyes widen in astonishment. “Really? Are you sure—?” Your worries are cut short by Jisung’s mouth. It’s short but effective in getting his point across.

He pulls away, an amused smirk on his face. “I’m sure.”

“Okay,” you giggle, finding yourself incredibly aroused by Jisung’s newfound confidence. You would certainly have to thank Donghyuck in some way for this abrupt change in your boyfriend’s behavior, unfortunately.

“Well let's not waste time then…”

© jigeuminunbich 2024

[hufflezki]

summary: peter has been paying you visits as spiderman, doing and saying things he usually wouldn't when he's off the mask—like attempting to flirt with you. unfortunately, you find out who really is under his disguise.

-> mcu!peter parker x gn!reader, fluff, friends to lovers, mixed povs, peter is just a sweetheart, sudden confessions, good old misunderstanding (oh boy), peter rambles a lot, implications of reader liking plants, ( this is very self indulgent </3 so im sorry if he's a little ooc ) word count: 2,148 ( yes, its really long, ik )

[ 🎧 ] — (also had this song in mind while writing, so I'll just share it.) head over heels by the go-go's

The sun is rising. Your cup is empty. School works are done. It's a Friday, and you don’t have any classes. Which means you finally have time to relax on your balcony. You prop your elbow down on the railing, thinking of things to do now that you’ve been given a free day.

You can read that book you’ve been meaning to finish a month ago—or has it been two? Then again, you also have that unfinished crochet project you decided to do. But the problem is you forgot if you ever saved the pattern for it. Then there’s also the elephant in the room, the thing that haunts you every time you step inside your apartment. The vase your last roommate left. You’ve been meaning to give it back to her—you promised. But things got busier ever since. The last time you had free time was probably earlier this year, and yet you were still working on your thesis.

You turn your head, staring at the vase. It's ironic how much it grew on you. You thought it didn’t fit the color scheme of your living room at first. But the more you saw it, the more it seemed to fit right in. Until, eventually, you decided that you like it. And, yes, maybe that’s part of the reason why you can’t bring yourself to return it. Your last roommate also never mentioned it again after. So, you assume she just forgot about it entirely. Hopefully.

Your train of thoughts are interrupted when you hear movements, mostly the sound of something—or rather someone—webbing around. You turn your head back in front of you, then to your left, and your right, until– “Good morning.” A familiar voice comes from behind you, making you yelp from surprise. “Fuck, You can’t just sneak up on people like that!” Normally, when you get approached by the Spider-man, in all his red and blue spandex glory, you don’t really greet him with a yell and proceed to curse him out. But, in your defense, who even gets visited by him this early in the morning? Apparently, you do!

“Sorry, I thought you’d be used to me. ‘Cause I am.” He walks, with his body facing you, hoisting himself up to sit on the railing. The whole time you followed him with your eyes, your brows raised out of curiosity. “No? I’m still trying to put my head around the fact that you choose to travel all the way here just to talk to me.” He shakes his head, waving his hand, dismissively. You feel the corner of your lip twitch. For someone who wears a mask, he’s certainly expressive. “You’re special.” He shrugs, his voice sounding a bit too soft and sincere, surprising you. You prop your chin down on your hand, staring at him. “I’m special?” You seem to have flustered him as he shrugs—once more—and turns away. As if you would even see the way his cheeks turn pink.

“Well, you know..” He clears his throat, tilting his head to the side, unsure with his words. You let out a chuckle, he turns to you again. He does this a lot, the moment you do something to counter him, he stumbles a few steps back. It’s adorable and reminds you of Peter, somehow.

“I think you’re great company. And you listen to me when I talk a lot.”

“Yeah, you ramble quite a lot, don't you?”

“I mean I get plenty of thoughts when I come over to see you.” This time you tilt your head to the side. “What kinds of thoughts?” The realization, that what he said might've been weird out of context, hits him like a train and he immediately shakes his head. “No, no, no. Not like weird thoughts. You know, like, uhm– You’re so cool! And I like the perfume you’re wearing today. Little things like that.” You purse your lips, holding back your laughter. You don’t know if his rambling really is entertaining, or maybe you just have it bad.

To be fair, it has been a few weeks since you started meeting him like this. You remember the day of your first encounter. He accidentally knocked down the plant on your balcony, and you caught him fixing it—or trying to hide the evidence that it was broken—then he offered to help however he can. You insisted, but he showed up later that night, dangling outside your window, with a new pot. It was the most baffling thing you’ve ever witnessed. And he helped you transfer the plant too. From then on, he frequents your balcony more than you do, and even waters your plants. Even though you didn't ask him to, you still appreciate him for it.

You don't know what you did to have caught his attention. You convinced yourself that maybe he really is just your friendly neighborhood Spider-man. But he doesn't seem to be hanging out in anyone else’s apartment other than yours. You don't have any complaints, however. He keeps you company, and you seem to do the same for him.

“So, the only thing I’m getting here is that you think about me a lot. And that I’m special.” You say the last thing with a smug grin, and he seems to find that amusing. “Not everyone gets called special by Spider-man. So, thank you.” You add. But, unexpectedly, he counters your remark. “You’re also very sweet.” He says, holding up a finger. Then another one. “And you care a lot. I appreciate you worrying about me whenever I come back from a mission.” Your eyebrows raise, cheeks feeling a little warm. “You’ve got a great smile, it's actually infectious.” He glances at you, and you imagine his eyes narrowing. He’s got three of his fingers up now, then adds another one. “You’re crazy about your plants, but I also like that—and I get it, I’m crazy about my lego collections too.” That’s big news to you, Spider-man apparently likes legos. That reminds you, Peter is also crazy about them. So far, you’re thinking they’d get along well.

However, you don't know where this conversation is going. But you’re curious to how this would conclude, so you keep listening.

“And, I just like you. You make my day. I have more to say, if you want me to elaborate.” He hops down, now standing beside you. Somehow, you turn a little shy. His arm brushes against yours, as he rests his hands on the railing. “But you must get a lot of people telling you that, yeah?” You don't know why Spider-man’s suddenly getting you in your feelings, but you guess he’s always been that spontaneous. “Well, I do have one friend. Peter. He tells me he likes..” You cut yourself off, a metaphorical light bulb turning on above your head. His words starting to

sound familiar.

You remember a sleepover you did with Peter a few months back. When he was so sleepy that he started a verbose speech about how much he appreciates your long-term friendship. And that he doesn't know anyone who could ever have your patience to deal with him.

Now, you’re holding Spider-man’s stare. He’s waiting for you to continue your sentence. But you don't think you would, not when something else came up in your mind. “Peter?” You say, still unsure. He seems startled by that, drawing his head back. “What?”

“Sorry, I just.. What was the gift you gave me on my thirteenth birthday?”

“Walkie talkie–” You point your finger at him, eyes wide, and pretty proud of yourself. Meanwhile, Peter finally realizes just what you’d done and fails to defend himself. That’s when he sighs, his shoulders deflating. And now you feel very bad. “I knew you’d be cornering me!” You give him a guilty smile, moving closer. “I’m sorry, you were just giving yourself away.” He sighs, once again, but he doesn't seem all too bummed out.

“So, it's really you?” Peter nods his head, your smile turns fond. You reach for his mask, hand hesitating for a bit. “You can take it off.” He says, and that’s the time you continue and lift the bottom of his mask, slowly revealing the familiar face of the boy you’ve spent your whole life with. “Peter.” He smiles at you, crooked, evidently embarrassed to be caught like this. But he knew the day would come. Not that he never planned to tell you who really is. “Ta-da?” Peter attempts to humor you, and it works, kind of. You chuckle, bringing yourself to hug him. He wraps his arms around you, feeling all sorts of emotions.

“I’m sorry for ruining your whole reveal. I know that’s not what you intended.” Peter hums and shakes his head. “I’m surprised you’re not at all weirded out.” You pull away, just enough to look at him in the eyes. “I mean, you do need to explain to me why you did all this.” He purses his lips together, trying to find the confidence to tell you that he’s liked you ever since he could. And that it’s been keeping him in some kind of crisis, since he doesn’t know how to tell you.

“It’s hard to say. I like you. I’m practically head over heels. But I’ve never had the confidence to tell you. So I decided maybe being Spider-man could help.” He scratches the back of his neck, now wallowing in his own embarrassment. “Clearly not.. I’m not good at flirting with or without the mask, apparently.” He turns shy, pulling himself away. To his surprise, you pull him back by taking his hands. “You’re really interesting, Peter.” He grows even more flustered, unable to look you in the eyes.

“First, you break my pot.”

“That wasn't intentional, I was really nervous that day.”

“It's alright, It wasn't a big deal. Then, you try to woo me as Spider-man, which almost worked, instead of just asking me out?” Now that you put it that way. His plan did seem like a lot of work. But he didn't have a guarantee that you’d say yes. What if he blows it and you never talk to him again? That’s like.. scarier than having to defeat a Titan warlord threatening to end half the population on earth. Imagine that.

“Would you?” He asks, voice so quiet, you almost missed it. You hum, squeezing his hands. “Would I go out with you?” Peter nods his head, and you also do. “Yes, I would go out with you. Peter, I don't know if you've noticed but I’ve tried to make it obvious that I do like you.” Peter’s eyebrows scrunch together, as he looks at you with pure astonishment. Was he the one oblivious?

“Do you remember when I said my mom packed extra lunches for you?” He nods his head. “I did them, intentionally.” You smile, watching as he starts recollecting your memories. “Even that time you held my hand during our first field trip?” You nod your head, as Peter takes it all in.

“That time you asked me out on Prom?”

“Especially that. I thought you’d get it by then.” You shrug, meanwhile Peter feels like the biggest idiot in the world for realizing it all just now. How could he have missed the signs? Why couldn't he have just taken the risk? He’s done that plenty of times before.

“Alright, don't stress your pretty little mind. Atleast, now we both know.” Peter ponders for a bit more, before he lifts your hands up to kiss your knuckles. “I think I’ll be fine if I worry a bit more. It seems I don't use what’s up here, anyways.” He says, trying to humor his own disappointment. And you have to fight back a smile. “Peter.” You chide and he mutters a quick sorry.

“Let me make it up to you? I’ll take you out, wherever.” He’s leaning closer to kiss you on your forehead, and you feel the warmth seeping throughout your entire body. It’s crazy how a gesture so small could make you feel so much.

“Deal. And I believe I owe you one thing?” He narrows his eyes, inquisitively, and you take the opportunity to kiss him on the lips. You feel him freeze, his entire body going rigid for a second, before he melts and kisses you back. His hand immediately goes to cup your face, while his other pulls you closer by the waist. And you can't help but think about just how soft his lips feel like against yours. You almost want to stay like this for a little while, until you have to take a breath.

“I have a good idea. Why don't we head inside before someone sees you, and tells the entire world that you’re Spider-man.”

“I think that’s the best idea ever, actually.”

miscellaneous masterlist ꩜ .ᐟ

[honeytonedhottie]

honey's hot-girl guide to summer (2025 edition)⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍦👙

how to have the best summer EVER from a certified hottie (me), all the little tips and tricks to look your best, have a great time and enjoy yourself this summer…💬🎀

THE PERFECT TAN ;

so as you guys can probably tell from my username i am a honey toned hottie, but during the summer i love to look a little more bronzy and glowy. and i've learned some things when it comes to getting a tan that comes out perfectly.

❤︎ salt water spray before tanning

ik this sounds crazy but LET ME TELL YOUUU. salt water reflects sunlight and removes oils -> making your skin more exposed to the UV rays -> you tan even more for a less amount of time. UR WELCOME. and ik it might sound crazy but literally just try it. dont forget to put ur SPF on first though

❤︎ stay moisturized

❤︎ tan in intervals, x amount of time per side

STAY BUSY ;

the worst feeling is when school rolls around and you realize that you've wasted the entire summer. DONT LET THAT BE YOU. look up "things going on in my area" and find something that you like, plan out things to do over the summer in a google doc with your girls (thats what i did this year) in fact, make it more fun by introducing a points system which we'll talk about more in the next section.

SUMMER POINTS SYSTEM ;

so the idea behind this is each task is worth x amount of points and we add up all the points that you made throughout the whole summer. the winner gets something off of their wishlist. everyone has access to the doc so its their own responsibility to make sure that they participate

if you want more info on the summer points system i'd love to share my doc with y'all so you guys could have a super fun summer too…💬🎀

LOOKING GOOD ALL SUMMER LONG ;

if you haven't read my summer beauty/glow up guide yet WHAT R U EVEN DOING? in there i go super in depth about summer beauty and how to look absolutely fabulous but i'll go over some of the basics in this post.

first we wanna be ACTIVE. going on walks everyday or working out 4-5 times a week. my go-to formula that hasn't failed me yet is a workout split of cardio, weight training and reformer pilates. the reformer pilates is like, once a week but weight training is more regularly.

glittery glowy skin. use body butters and nectars, lotions, and most IMPORTANTLY body glitter. we wanna shimmer and sparkle, especially if ur showing skin this summer, look like a shimmery mermaid. ash is not allowed under ANY circumstance.

SUMMER FASHION ;

think, bubble gum beach BUNNY. thats how i love to dress for the summer. halter tops and dresses, ruffle-layered skirts, denim shorts, cute bikinis. THINGS LIKE THAT. i also wear soft teals, pastels and of course pinks during the summer so thats the color palette. some essentials for the summery look are

hoop earrings (especially bamboo hoops)

a good pair of denim shorts

baby tees and halter tops

little ruffle skirts

wedges and platform pumps

bangles

bracelet and necklace stacks

MAKE SUMMER RULES ;

its always important to have a standard for yourself when it comes to anything at all so outline some summer rules for yourself. here are mine ->

🥥 no bed-rotting days/staying in bed all day

🌺 no putting urself in dangerous situations. BE SAFE.

🥥 stay hydrated and keep SPF on your skin

🌺 take LOTS and lots of photos

🥥 fruit salads + coconut water! my faves

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐀 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓・l.f.

🔪 — You can't fall in love with him, he can't fall in love with you—that would be apocalypse.

LEE FELIX is your new bodyguard, and you hate his guts. Growing up the Mafia's princess, daughter of the most ruthless mob boss in the world, you learned at a young age—all humans are expendable. Now you're 5,956 miles from home, landing in Seoul South Korea with your infuriatingly perfect bodyguard on a very important mission—figure out how your father's henchmen are going missing. Nothing makes sense. Who is making so many ruthless criminals disappear? The more you and Felix dig into the past, the more you seem to expose. There’s so many gaps in the story, dark secrets to be uncovered, and betrayals to lament. Nothing is as it seems when you’re chasing a ghost. Will you be able to keep it together, seeing felix every day for the next year? There's so much that could go wrong.

♟️ — paring・felix x reader // genres・mafia!au, bodyguard!au, enemies to lovers, forbidden love, humor, slow burn, found family, mystery!au, hurt and comfort, smut…maybe // words・6.4k // chapter warnings・ fights, blood, knives, alcohol, mentions of death, crime and people going missing, uhhh cursing, i think that's it!

a/n・yayyy guys we finally did it!! the first chapter of my long awaited bodyguard!felix fic is finally here!! I struggled so much trying to write this fic. I certainly couldn't have done it without the lovely @jeonginsleftcheek who was my biggest supporter from the very beginning and all the way through when I had a mental breakdown, an existential crisis, a small writing hiatus, changed the plot, then changed it back, then changed it again, and changed it again but she helped me through it all. I truly cannot thank you enough for all your help. I hope I did it justice. (ozzy i am so sorry ik you've already read this a/n a million times but i really do love you and i appreciate you sooo much!!) p.s another super big thank you to my lovely editor and best friend @petvlss there would be so many comma splices without her.

“𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲.”

—Sade Andria Zabala.

The dream always begins the same.

You're switching between attendees, twirling into suited men's arms, only to be handed off to elegantly dressed women, the length of their sparkly gowns catching on glassy heels. The opulent ballroom, with its vaulted fresco ceilings and marbled floors, sparkles beneath the light of diamond chandeliers dangling above your tilted head.

Without fail, you trip into a large man's chest, his gloved hand clasping your waist right before you fall. You only see half of his dazzling smile before the world transforms, a thousand stars bursting in your vision as he dips you down, holding you closely, carefully as though your skin were made of precious jewels. It is through the gentleness of a faceless man's fingers that you realize you haven't once, throughout the entire night, cracked a grin.

Cue the indicative signs: an explosive warmth blossoming in your chest, a blinding smile stretching across your lips, and suddenly, with debilitating intensity, a feeling like you are, for once, truly free.

You never get a chance to fully discern your feelings, not before the floor trembles, the dancers dissolving into darkness. The shadows circle around your ankles, gnarled faces clawing their way up your calves—terror coils underneath your ribs, pulling you apart from the inside out.

Hopelessly, desperately, you search for the man's solace, fingers tugging at the sleeves around his shoulders, and somehow, in the chaos of your actions, you find yourself settling the pad of your thumb just under his jawline. He doesn't pull away, God, you wish he did—the shadows don't give you enough time to process the consequences of your actions before they go for his throat instead.

They snare him by the jugular, wrenching him out of your grasp, slamming his back into the wall hard enough to make him crumple. The darkness blankets his limp figure, falling over his shattered spine.

Anguish tears through your chest, ripping out of your throat in the form of a guttural scream. You try to chase him—you always do, you never learn—you don't get two steps forward before the cherub fresco drips off the ceiling, reverting back to its original form.

Blood.

Angels weep crimson tears; deep red rivulets that crystallize into claws over fractured ceilings. You should have known your freedom was ill-fated from the beginning—thick, heavy blood slithers down your throat, coating the pads of your fingertips with the manifestation of a curse.

You never feel it. The sickening crack of your heart tearing from your ribs, struck straight through a fresco's crimson claw. They assure that the next time you look at the man, it will be your last.

So you remain, paralyzed in clouds of umbra, until you gather enough strength to lift your neck. Until your eyes find his crumpled body, overturned and limp.

Who is he? You're left to wonder. Why can I never see his face?

You never find the rest of the man's face. 

It is far too covered in your blood.

“Aim for the jaw!” A voice calls out from outside the ring, though it’s echoed in the dark, empty room.

A fist flies past your face. You dodge it, swiveling on a heel and kicking your opponent straight in the jaw.

He stumbles, slamming against the ground with a sickening crack, blood trickling from his lips. Yeah, he was definitely down for the count.

You hang off the ring ropes, a single brow lifted. “You done?”

He narrows his eyes, red painting his scowl. “What the fuck do you think?”

You let out a chuckle, tossing him a towel, which only deepens both your laugh and his scowl when it smacks him straight in the face. He spits into the fabric. “You didn’t have to kick me that hard.”

“You’re right, I didn’t—” you slip from the boxing ring before squirting some water in your mouth. You wipe off the excess, a shit-eating grin on your lips when you wink, “—But where’s the fun in that?”

He rolls his eyes, but his lips twitch up—just slightly.

You’ve worked with him for three days short of two months, and in this time, you’ve gathered more than enough information on him. He’s practically harmless, figuring he’s a simple drug runner, and as a testament to his loyalty under your father, offered to aid in your training. He’s twenty-five, no kids or wife, with a strong jaw and cropped black hair. He has surprisingly strong punches, and his name is Alejandro Gomez, though he doesn’t know you’ve figured that out.

It’s a gift to know somebody's name. It’s a sign of trust, of loyalty, an unsaid promise that, if things go south, I won’t snitch.

Names are also a means for leverage.

You still don’t know your father's real name.

You’re in the middle of going over your performance with your instructor, Ji-yoo, when suddenly someone taps you on the shoulder and whispers something into your ear. “You’re needed in the study.”

Diego, you’ve grown familiar with his voice. He’s been your father’s bodyguard for years. He straightens, folding his hands behind his back and settling them atop his thick utility belt, his gaze set forward. You look up, brows furrowed. He gives you a small, clueless shrug.

“Right,” you mutter, annoyed, gathering your belongings and bidding your tutor a final goodbye. Diego doesn’t ever know anything; he simply does what he’s told. He opens the door for you and escorts you all the way to your father’s study.

“Come in,” A voice commands, following the rap of the bodyguards' knuckles. The sun breaks through a large skylight above him, casting a youthful glow across his otherwise opaque expression, hands folded atop his desk. He didn’t seem agitated, and you’ve been following orders, so you’re drawing a blank for what this meeting could be about. Diego pulls the double doors shut, taking his post outside.

It wasn’t often that he met with you, and you understood why; he’s a busy man, business and whatnot. Sure, he didn’t always have time for things like family dinners. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. He did, contrary to popular belief. He protected you, providing you with as many tutors and Jiu Jitsu instructors as you needed. It was hard—hours and hours of constant training, but if that’s what it took to survive a world this dangerous, this cruel, then you were lucky to have a father like him watching over you. 

“You needed me?”

“Sit down, Mija,” He doesn’t betray anything in his calm, leveled tone, extending a hand out to the velvet chair in front of him. You obey. Mija—a Spanish term of endearment meaning “my daughter”—reveals both his thick accent and Mexican heritage. He’s been calling you that for as long as you can remember.

“I’m not going to be here forever, you know.” That catches you off guard, “And one day, you’re going to need to take over my empire.”

You squirm, whispering, “I know.”

“You’ve proven yourself more than capable over these past few years.” His lips twitch, almost imperceptibly, but you notice it. It’s such a rare sight, it makes pride firework in your chest. “I’m proud of you.”

A smile threatens to split your face in two, but you bite it back, opting for a curt nod. “I appreciate it.

He doesn’t respond; instead, he places a single hand on your shoulder. The air shifts, something catching behind his eyes, a bit hesitant, but still deliberate when he finally says, “You deserve a more significant role, I’ve seen everything you can do, everything you’ve achieved.” This time it’s impossible to keep the grin off your cheeks, that is, until he finishes, “That’s why I’ve decided to send you to Korea.”

All good, fuzzy feelings screech to a deafening halt.

“Korea?” Suddenly, it feels like somebody's tossed you into the ice-cold Atlantic, duct-taped and wriggling.

A pause, and then he’s retracting his hand, giving a quick, dismissive wave. “We’ve run into some issues in Seoul. A loose end, if you will. It’s nothing we can’t handle, of course, but it’s never a loss to be cautious. It’s going to be an easy fix, I’m sure.”

“A fix? What am I fixing?” That makes him laugh, dark and humorless.

“You won’t be fixing anything. You will be finding the loose end, whoever that may be, and well, I’ll deal with all the rest.” There’s something sinister with the way he says that, a tone that sits in the pit of your gut like rotten milk. You know exactly what he does to loose ends.

“I need eyes on the inside, somebody smart, loyal, somebody I can trust. That somebody is you, Mija. It’s always been you.” It’s the first time since you’ve seen him that you aren’t looking into his eyes, chewing on your bottom lip. You shouldn’t be this unsure. It was all wrong; he is right. You were loyal. You deserved this role.

Then, why were you hesitating?

Something in your expression must betray your inner conflict because he’s cocking his head and purring, “What, do you not think you can handle it?”

You stay silent.

He sighs, giving a curt, disappointed shake of his head. “I thought you were ready, but if you don’t think you can handle it—”

“No!” You blurt out before those pesky thoughts can stop you. “No, you’re right. I’m ready, I can handle it.”

He nods, something flickering in his eyes. “I’ve already arranged everything. It won’t be a safe mission, but with Felix, you will be.”

Felix? He doesn’t give you enough time to wonder. He leans forward, pressing the sleek intercom button, “Diego, let Felix in.”

The double doors part, and a large black boot plants itself on the ground. A second later, the single most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your life glides into the room, and your lips part.

He’s not the biggest man you’ve seen, but he makes up for that with muscle, packed underneath that tight, black uniform. He appears young, with delicate, pink lips and golden hair that falls just above his shoulders, slicked back with a few strands hanging over his forehead. A swarm of butterflies erupts in your stomach, much to your demise.

It doesn’t click quite yet, the role Felix plays, because all you can imagine is how nice it’s going to be sleeping next to him. And then, “Y/N, meet Felix—your new bodyguard.”

The butterflies die, burn, and drop into the pit of your stomach in a messy, blood-stained soup. You stiffen, out of all the recent revelations, this one makes you feel like you were going to die.

“Hello,” he says, respectfully bowing his head in greeting. He startles you with his deep voice, warm and accented. ”It’s nice to finally meet you.”

He smiles, soft and disarming in its kindness, for a second, you’re more terrified than anything, not of him, but for him. As quickly as it came, you stuff it deep inside of you, replacing it with a cold indifference. “You really think this is necessary? I mean, I haven’t had one of those since…” You can’t bear to say it, the mere memory makes a thick lump form in your throat.

He sighs, extending an arm out and grabbing a bottle of whiskey from his shelf, a cherry, and a cup. His lips form a hard line, voice lowering. “If you don’t make the same mistakes, you don’t have anything to worry about.” He lifts a sharp, polished blade from his pocket, gaze never wavering as he slices into the fruit. It bleeds into the crystal glass, red liquid staining his tanned fingers. “This time will be different. Correct?”

Slowly, the juice drips across the blade until it reaches the hilt. You swallow, breath slowing to a stop. He’s right—

You won’t make the same mistake again.

You meet his gaze, jaw tight. “Yes, sir.”

He seems pleased by that answer.

“You will be briefed on the plane,” your father says, tipping the liquid into his mouth. “For now, rest. I will send you a car tomorrow morning at eight. Felix, make sure she is ready by then.”

“You will be briefed on the plane,” your father says, reaching behind him and grabbing a bottle of whiskey. He pours it into a crystal glass, tipping it into his mouth. “For now, rest. I will send you a car tomorrow morning at ten. Felix, make sure she is ready by then.”

Felix gives him a curt nod. “Yes, sir.”

You’re scooting back before a cold, wet blade lands against your jaw. It smells like whiskey and blood. His voice drops to a whisper, shifting until it’s only you and him in the room.

“We’re family, Mija.” He tilts your chin up, and for a second, it feels like you’re looking at yourself. “There’s not a love stronger than that, and right now your family needs you. You wouldn’t wanna mess that up, would you?”

The mere idea makes goosebumps prickle up your arms. “No, of course not.”

He smiles, and for once, it actually reaches his eyes. “That’s my girl.”

Felix doesn’t dare look at you as you walk through the doors, sealing your fate.

You are so fucked.

“You’re not sleeping on the bed,” is the first thing you say when you walk into your bedroom, swiveling around.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.” For whatever reason, you expected him to pick some kind of fight, comment on your pettiness, send you an eye-roll—something. But no, he’s utterly indifferent, leaning against the edge of your dresser and pulling off his velcroed gloves with a satisfying rip. Frustration bites underneath your eyelids.

You could really use a drink right now.

At that, you shoo him away from your dresser—also a secret mini bar—earning you a confused side-eye, before moving out of the way. You pull open a drawer, coming face-to-face with rows of glistening alcohol bottles. Felix sends you a mildly horrified look. “Are you of legal age to be drinking—”

“Are you of legal age to be working?” You smile, popping the lid off a whiskey bottle and drowning two shots’ worth of liquor down your throat.

“Hilarious.” He deadpans.

A cocky tilt of your head. “Most people think so.”

Silence.

With a small sigh, you collapse onto the bed, thick sheets ruffling underneath you as you take this valuable time and observe your new bodyguard. His gaze clouds as you take another sip of whiskey, a small divot forming in his forehead as momentarily, his movements stutter. He doesn’t seem to be a terrible person, per se. But that didn’t matter; the tension still clamped around your ribs all the same.

After a few more minutes of mindless studying, the alcohol finally hits your system, muscles loosening and anxiety floating up from your lopsided grin. This is the part you loved the most about being drunk, getting tipsy.

Felix must have noticed your drunken smile because no sooner do you express joy is he extending out a hand and crushing it. “I think that’s enough.”

“The blankets are in the hall closet. You can have this—” you ignore him, turning around to snatch a pillow from your bed and catapult it at his face. He catches it with a tick in his jaw and a single raised brow. That is a lot hotter than you are willing to admit. With a flustered cough, you continue. “Make your bed wherever, I don’t really care. I’m going to bed.” You punctuate your sentence with a final swig, but Felix gently wraps his fingers around your jaw, lifting your chin before the lips can touch the rim.

“I think that’s enough.” He repeats in that wicked deep voice of his, a flicker of warning in his gaze. Your heart does an elaborate salsa dance all the way to your throat. Oh, you were far too drunk for this.

You shakily hand the bottle to him.

With that, he smiles, dropping your face and locking up the bottle before turning back to you, innocently asking, “Where’d you say the blankets were, again?”

Your heart still hasn’t finished its lessons in salsa when you breathe, “In the closet.”

He nods before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. You fall back against your mattress with a heavy, heavy breath. Was this what it was going to be like for the rest of your time together? Him demanding things from you in that sick, twisted voice of his. It’s unfair! He sounds like panties dropping! You literally can’t do this. Nope. Nada. Not happening. If he was going to order you around like you weren’t a full grown adult then he could at least be considerate and not sound like a bad (good) porno!! All that anxiety and pent-up energy comes out in the form of a frustrated cry, turning into your pillow and pummeling your fists into it like the mature adult you were.

Felix comes back in mid-throw, which, with your super-amazing reflexes, you still immediately, clearing your throat and taking said pillow in your hands to pretend to fluff it out.

He stops mid-step, letting out an amused laugh before tossing his blankets onto the ground. “Do I wanna know?”

Your cheeks flush dark red. “Do you wanna sleep in the hallway?”

He lifts his hands in a playful, placating stance before continuing to set up his makeshift bed. When he’s finished, you’ve already settled in, covers thrown over your shoulders. Bedsheets rustle as he turns, politely tapping your mattress. With an annoyed huff, you mutter, “What?”

It takes him a beat to respond. Though when he does, his soft, kind voice disarms you. “Goodnight.”

You don’t have it in you to respond.

The dream always begins the same.

It always ends the same, too.

Blood.

You awaken with a shout, jerking off your sweat-soaked mattress to grasp at your intact T-shirt. It’s only then, when you take a deep breath with your full, working lungs, that your heart takes the hint.

You’re alive.

The dull sound of a body shifting makes your nerves fire all over again, spine stiffening as you swivel around on your mattress in search of the sound. Blonde.

Felix.

He’s sleeping, lashes splayed across pale cheeks in such a way that he almost appears ethereal. Delicate. Mortal.

That’s when you’re hit with cold, sharp reality—a feeling that coils around you and pierces that sensitive spot inside your chest, forever bruised by your own consequences.

You can’t be here right now.

It hasn’t been more than four hours, so naturally, you’re still drunk. Vision swaying as you swing your legs off the bed and tiptoe out of the room, peeking back to find a still, hopefully sleeping, Felix.

Thankfully, the more you awaken, the more bubbly you feel, slipping back into the carefree, tipsy version of yourself. The house is silent and dark, hallways solely illuminated by dim, gilded lamps. They provide drops of light, sneaking further and further down the large, spiral staircase.

You have a single foot on the stairs when suddenly, a deep, raspy voice appears from thin air, startling you straight out of your skin. “Late night snack?”

You let out a high-pitched yelp, swiveling around to throat punch the intruder. Though you weren’t going far because the quick movement is enough to make you dizzy. Warm hands clasp over your shoulders, steadying you before you nosedive down the stairs.

That’s when you see him—those bright, innocent eyes and golden hair that seems to glow in the moonlight. For a second, you’re under a spell. He’s like really pretty.

Then you remember who he is.

“Your dad doesn’t like it when you’re out past 10.” He glances at his watch. “It’s 1:44 a.m.”

Good feelings gone.

“Are you just everywhere?” You grumble, fighting the slur that tangles on your tongue.

“Please, come back to bed. You’re going to be tired in the morning.” Felix says, restrained frustration stretching his voice thin.

Should you listen to him? Yeah, probably. Were you going to? Hell no.

So, like the mature adult you are, you stomp down the hallway in your fuzzy, pink, Hello-Kitty slippers.

Felix doesn’t bother trying to stop you, his sharp eyes trailing you as you continue this petulant temper tantrum. “Where are you going?”

Emotion wells up in your throat when you notice the exhaustion rasping his voice. For a split second, your movements stutter. This is ridiculous, you were fully aware of that, but you’re too stubborn to quit now. If he’s going to accompany you for the next…forever, he’s going to get the whole Y/N L/N package. Maybe, then it’ll all click.

He doesn’t belong here.

You’re stumbling nowhere, you can’t run away from him anyway, figuratively and literally. The turn you took leads to a dead end. You still walk anyway. “Not to Korea with you, that’s for sure!”

“Oh, what is your problem??” He retorts through gritted teeth, his exasperation only growing when you turn around and stick your tongue out. He sucks on his teeth, his own tongue pressed into his cheek. “Y’know what—”

It takes him three strides to catch up with you, two hands clasping over your hips, and a single movement for the carpet to be on the ceiling. You cry out, his shoulder digging into your stomach as he wraps his forearm around the backs of your knees. He can’t be serious. How dare he, manhandling you like this! You were ready to go full Jiu Jitsu on his ass, that is until something much more enticing catches your attention. His actual ass.

The realization dawns on you with a hiccup.

“Y’know I can’t be too mad at’cha, man, I do have an excellent view from down here.” The liquor must have rushed to your head because you feel a dire need to make Felix aware of his fabulous buttocks. Drunken giggles bubble up from your lips as you take in his ass in all its plump, round goodness. “Hey Felix, has anybody ever told you, you have a great butt?” You land a firm smack against it.

His back grows rigid, muscles rippling under your touch before he awkwardly clears his throat and pushes the bedroom door open.

“Okay, down you go.” His voice is tight, matching his movements as he cradles the back of your head and lays you on the mattress.

You expect him to respond with an irritated glare and a snide comment, but he doesn’t say anything; in fact, he doesn’t look at you at all. The darkness shadows his face, but when he steps into the moonlight, you see it. The red creeping across his cheeks.

You can’t stop the laughter that bursts from your throat. It’s not actually that funny, but right now, with how drunk you are—it’s the funniest shit you’ve ever witnessed. Felix’s face is painted in horror.

He’s blushing harder now, cherry creeping up his neck and staining the tips of his ears. “What? What’s so funny?!”

You’re writhing on the sheets, clutching your stomach as you gasp for breath. “Y-Your face is soooo red!”

Your comment does nothing to help his embarrassment.

His expression does nothing to help your laughter.

“Go to bed.” He demands, begrudgingly ducking into the makeshift ground-bed and throwing the covers over his face.

“I am going to have so much fun with you.” You giggle, tapping the crown of his covered head.

“Goodnight.” He huffs, defeated and muffled underneath the sheets. He hasn’t even been here a day and he’s already done with you.

You let out one final snicker before drifting back to sleep.

Santiago Reyes.

He’s the string that unraveled it all.

Who pulled it? That’s what’s important here.

You still haven’t figured it out.

Now, you’re down twelve hours on a private jet, six coffees, three grueling conversations with Felix—one of those being when he woke you up late, on purpose. That little prick. You’re still not over that. Two hangover-proof Tylonals, and one impending conversation with Minho.

Which brings you here, drowning in the sound of a ringing phone, impatiently waiting for him to answer.

Minho is your father's assistant…kind of. He’s pretty much a built in archivist, hacker, account, therapist, handyman and soon-to-be drinking buddy. If he would actually take up your offer. But alas, he likes the prospect of rotting away in a basement better than taking shots with you.

He’s probably got the right idea, but still. Ouch.

The phone picks up.

You let an audible, revealed sigh. “Oh, just the man—”

Minho blurts, “Yes, sir, she’s on the line.” before you can finish, a panicked tilt in his voice. Which is his way of saying “please, for the love of everything holy, don’t get me fired.”

“Y/N, are you there?” Your brows touch your hairline when you hear your father's voice filt through the speaker. You’ve spoken more to your father in the past 36 hours than you have in the past 36 days. Most conversations were translated through Minho, not with Minho. So, in conclusion, this is a trip.

“Yes…I’m here?”

“Good. Have you looked through the files yet?” He’s wasting no time, you see.

It takes a solid ten seconds to slam back down to earth, tongue dry and heavy as you blurt, “Oh, yeah! Yeah, I’ve looked through them! Um, gotten to all of them…specifically the Santiago file. That one has caught most of my interest.”

Minho speaks up, talking like the walking Wikipedia page he is: “Santiago Reyes, age 34 was the first to go missing, he disappeared June 14th 2020. He was last seen fleeing your hotel in California—Thanatos Tower. He both lived and operated there, often holding extravagant business parties there. The hotel was raided by the FBI 8 hours later.”

That catches you by surprise. The file never said anything about FBI. “The FBI raided one of our hotels? How did that happen?”

Your father's wrath is ill contained when he mutters, “That’s a good question. Thankfully, they didn’t find anything important. If they did we would’ve been rotting in prison years ago.”

Felix perks up, lifting his nose from his book and not-so-subtly eavesdrops.

“If everything started in LA, why are you sending me to Korea?” You ask softly, mindlessly flipping through the files again.

“Are you sure you read the files yet?” Your father scoffs, diminishingly.

Thankfully, he can’t see you because the way your cheeks turn bright red is downright pathetic. “Yeah, of course I did…I was just confused…sorry.”

Minho, being the God-send he is, quickly interjects. “Santiago is important, yes. But, most, or well, I should say, all, the other members were busted in Korea. Hence you being sent to Korea and not LA. I don’t believe these two cases are connected.”

“It wasn’t in his file, but I’m going to assume Santiago got busted as well.”

There’s silence on the other end. It stretches suspiciously long.

“Santiago is MIA.” Minho finally breaks the silence.

Felix makes a face. You glare at him. His eyes go wide, and he ducks back behind his book.

“Santiago is MIA? His home was raided by the FBI, but we don’t know where he is?”

More silence.

“Well…we have a theory...” Minho states awkwardly.

“Minho has a theory.” Your father interrupts.

“I think he’s dead.” Minho corrects, clearly trying to control his temper.

“I think he’s in prison. A secure facility, and due to the nature of his crimes and ties to the Mafia, his records are confidential. The other seventeen missing people were found in prison.” A clink is heard on the other end. Your father was definitely making himself a drink.

Wait. Eighteen.

You stack the manila folders up, counting and recounting before hesitantly saying, “I only have seven folders here.”

Felix, sitting across from you, tosses you a folder that magically fell into his lap. “Eight.” He whispers, looking guilty as hell.

You send him a deadly glare. “Eight.”

“Minho was only able to recover eight files before the KNPA found his leak; thankfully, he was able to erase his tracks before they could trace him.”

“So, we’re missing like half of the files?” You sigh, defeated and annoyed.

Minho grunts from the other end. “It’s better than nothing.”

“The rest, they’re just guessing games? How do you even know that—”

“Mija.” Your father's assertive tone seals your lips shut and forces you back on track.

“Here, it says: video evidence.” They can’t see you, but you still point at the file with your pen anyway. “What video evidence?”

“See, this is where it starts to get messy—” Minho starts.

“Like it wasn’t already messy.” You mutter under your breath. Felix breathes out a quiet laugh.

“All eighteen people are currently being held with video evidence. Though it never actually says what kind of video that is.”

“There’s nothing useful in these files. It’s just a whole bunch of basic information and vague terms.” You mutter frustrated, slamming the folders back onto the table. “We’re chasing a damn ghost.”

“That’s where I want you to start.” Your father speaks up, “Look into the evidence, see what they have against us. Once we know what they’ve got, we’ll know who gave it to them. I’ll be in touch.” Only you can hear the silent goodbye. “Minho, finish this off.” The line drops.

You both let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

It’s easy to talk to Minho, but around your father, it’s like doing ballet around broken glass.

You don’t waste any time, bidding your goodbyes and hanging up the call. Your plan was to open your computer and spend the next two hours digging into the evidence before landing. But you didn’t even get to your private server before the sound of Felix’s raspy voice interrupts you mid-click. He sinks into the seat beside you, now holding a mug of fresh coffee. “Y’know, I never caught your name.”

His statement sends ice-cold annoyance rushing through your body. Your shoulders stiffen. “Good.”

He stills mid-sip of his coffee, and you can already imagine the divit forming in his brow. “You don’t…want me to know your name?”

“You don’t need to know it.” You mutter bitterly, hoping he’ll finally take the hint, but no, of course he doesn’t.

His eyes burn into the side of your head. “What do you want me to call you then?”

Your voice is flat. “I’d rather you don’t talk to me at all.”

There’s a pause. He blinks. Once. Twice. Then he lets out a loud, exasperated snort, setting his cup into the holder and leaning back. His thighs spread apart, wide.

“Alright, princess.” The word slides off his tongue so easily, his voice dipping sinfully deep. Your brain quite literally buffers. Your fingers slip on the keyboard, and the computer flashes before darkening.

Oh no. Oh, no, no, no. No. He is not going to do this to you. And you are not going to get flustered because some guy in a suit and a sexy voice calls you a pet name. You hate it. Actually, it’s demeaning, mocking, if anything. You do not like him calling you that.

It takes you a solid ten seconds to convince yourself of that fact.

“Don’t call me that.” You bite and pray he doesn’t hear the wobble in your voice.

His lips twitch. “Then tell me your name.”

You squint at him and really think about it.

Theoretically, you could tell him your name. He probably already knows it, anyway. But this is Felix we’re talking about. The same man who woke you up an hour late and robbed you of your morning scone.

“No.” You say, stubbornly.

“Then, it’s settled, princess.” He smirks lazily. Your bodyguard is going to need a bodyguard if he doesn’t shut up in the next two seconds. Of course, he continues. “I overheard your conversation—”

“You mean eavesdropped?” You smile.

He chuckles, shaking his head at your pettiness. “Yeah, something like that.”

You let out a snort yourself, refreshing your computer screen. It buzzes and flashes white. You switch to the embedded private browser that Minho installed.

“You need working theories. Do you have any?” Felix finishes, scooting closer to you.

You stiffen.

The answer is no. You have no working theories.

Felix must sense your hesitation because he scoots closer, voice softening. “I can help, y’know…”

“I don’t need your help.” You snap a little too harshly.

Felix nods, scooting back to give you more space. “You’re right. You don’t need my help,” He pauses, and his voice lowers into something warmer, more patient. “But I want to help you. It wouldn’t hurt to have an extra set of eyes.”

Being the daughter of a Mafia boss came with its own set of challenges, but there’s one that’s been tattooed into you since birth. The unabiding ideology that, simply because you are a woman, you’re expected to fail. People talked down to you, not directly. And never to your face.

But you noticed it in the subtext, reading between the lines just like your father taught you. They weren’t trying to help you.

They were trying to do what they thought you couldn’t.

And, just like they expect you to fail. You expect him to be just like all the others. It’s unfair. You realize that now.

He speaks with so much earnestness that something inside you softens. Guilt gnaws at your stomach as you bite your bottom lip.

He’s right. It wouldn’t hurt to have an extra set of eyes.

“Fine.” You sigh, sliding him the stack of files. His lips curve, and his eyes crinkle into little crescent moons.

He eagerly snatches the files. “You won’t regret it, I swear!”

“I better not.”

“What’s a ‘Discord?”

Felix peeks up from the home he’s made of mugshots and manila folders across from you. “Discord?”

You nod, cursor hovering over said link. It’s been a little over an hour now, and within that time—you haven’t actually found anything useful out—but you did discover an interesting website called Tumblr and now Discord. The power of the internet.

Felix’s brow crinkles, and he waddles out of the delicate paper trail he’s made to lean over your shoulder, eyes flicking across your computer before pulling away. “Oh yeah, Discord. It’s like a website for talking or whatever. A lot of gamers use it.”

Your brows shoot up. “Would avid podcast listeners use it?”

You’ve been grasping at straws at this point. You jumped from a few useless news articles covering the case—which pretty much just included information you already had—to some more personal blogs and external resources before finally discovering something minutely useful. A user under the name @spencerreidsslut (valid) wrote something about a Case Files episode covering the case. Which brings you here, talking to Felix and pondering clicking this suspicious link.

He cocks his head and clicks his tongue. “Theoretically, I guess they could. I don’t really know, though. I’ve only ever used it for gaming.”

You almost brush past it, but then it hits you.

You jerk your neck up. “You gamhjue?”

Felix’s eyes widen before he awkwardly clears his throat, a bashful blush flooding his cheeks. “Um, yeah…I do…”

You snicker, tapping the link. “Why am I not surprised?”

His blush deepens, and he shoots you an annoyed look. “Oh, be quiet.”

You were going to retort, but then the page loads. Lines of colorful messages pop up, most of them were small talk among friends and conversation about other episodes, until you reach around the time Ki-yoo, the first missing person, was arrested.

You scroll some more through people berateing Ki-yoo, some questionable jokes before something catches your eye.

You stop reading right there.

“Hey, Felix, I think I found something.” Wordlessly, he walks over to you, leaning over your shoulder once more. His eyes widen.

Without thinking, you click the link.

It feels like a lifetime of loading and shared panicked breaths as you imagine the amount of trouble you’d be in for allowing somebody to hack your computer before the screen fills with red.

A single pulsing triangle. You’ve been taken to Twitter. There’s nothing on the page. No comments. No likes. No retweets. Only a video.

Felix presses play for you, and nobody could have prepared you for the scene that unfolds before you.

Your blood freezes in your veins.

Ki-yoos in front of a camera. He scoots into a chair, hair looking sweat-caked and disheveled. He parts his lips, and your spine turns to stone because Ki-yoo didn’t get busted.

He turned himself in.

OMFG GUYS I DID IT!!! like 9 months later ive finally finished it...

if you wanna be tagged in the rest of the chapters please comment!!

[be-my-sunrise]

1:40am || oh sion

pairings: idol bf!sion x fem!reader

genre: smut, fluff if you squint. minors pls dni

word count: 1,023

warnings: suggestive content, they're just kissing and groping each other lmao

a/n: ik i said i only write for dreamies, but i just physically CANNOT get this gorgeous man out of my head so i had to write something for him lmao. anyways i hope you enjoy!! thank you queen @jenoslutie for beta reading<3

tags: @wispyxjae i hope you like it teehee :3

It has been quite some time since you last saw Sion. He has been very busy with his schedule and album preparations, and he finally gets a day off today, so he invited you over to his dorm to hang out. 

After lunch, you and Sion decided to watch a movie that he had been wanting to watch. At least that's what you were doing.

Both of you start making out passionately before you even know it. You should have known though, because Sion couldn't keep his hands to himself since you arrived. The two of you pull away after a while to catch your breath.

“I missed you so much,” you whisper. 

“Me too, baby.”

Sion presses his lips against your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses down to your neck. You tilt your head to one side as he continues to pepper kisses. 

“I miss having your body on mine and the way you feel around me.” He mumbles against your neck. “Fuck. I miss the way you taste.”

Sion slips one hand under your shirt, gently caressing your waist. A moan escapes your lips as he sucks on your sweet spot.

“I need you, baby. Right now.”

“No, we can't do this now. What if your friends come back early?” You let out a heavy sigh and pull yourself away from him. 

“Come onnn~” Sion pouts, looking at you with pleading eyes. “We’re finally alone, and they won't be back any time soon.” 

“I don't–” Sion cuts you off with a peck on your lips. “But, I–” He pecks you again.

“Please, baby.” Sion places his hand on your jaw and swipes his thumb on your bottom lip. 

You lean into his touch and you can’t help but stare at his plump lips. Truth be told, you want the same thing as him. You were hesitant because you don't want his friends to walk in on you and Sion. Not again. 

But, your body craves him. His touch. You need him. You lean forward and lock lips with him.

“Wait,” he mumbles against your lips and pulls away. 

“This means yes, right?” He asks, making you giggle at the way his face lights up.

“Yes, baby,” you pause to climb onto his lap and put your arms around his neck. “Let’s make this quick, shall we?”

You let out a satisfied hum as your lips meet his once again. As the kiss gets more heated, you start grinding on his hardening cock, making him moan. Sion places his hands on your hips to guide your movements. You drag your hands down his chest and abs, feeling his toned muscles. 

You tug on Sion’s shirt, signaling him to take it off. He understands the message and he quickly takes his shirt off in one swift motion, not wanting to part lips with yours too long. You squeal as Sion suddenly lifts you up to lay you down on the couch. He hovers over your body, resting one arm next to your head to support his own weight.

Your fingers find their way to his dark locks, pulling on the strands as he trails kisses down your jaw to your neck. A gasp escapes your lips as he bites the skin, leaving red marks all over your neck and shoulder. 

Sion slips one hand under your shirt and makes its way towards your chest. He grips the soft flesh before pulling down the fabric covering your tits. You let out a loud moan as he continues sucking on your sweet spot while also playing with your nipple, rolling the sensitive bud using his thumb and index finger.

Just when you’re about to get to the good part, you hear feet shuffling at the front door. Sion’s head shot up upon hearing the familiar voices. The panic settles in when the two of you lock eyes, realizing who’s at the other side of the door right now. 

Both of you scramble to sit up and fix your appearances. Sion puts his shirt back on and helps you cover the hickeys he left on your neck with your hair. You put a small pillow over his lap to cover his prominent boner just as the front door swings open.

“We’re home!” 

You and Sion pretend to be watching the still-playing movie as Riku and Yushi walk into the living room. 

“H-hey, guys! Back so soon?” Sion asks.

Riku sighs, “yeah, we’re a bit tired, so we decided to just get home.”

There’s a moment of silence and you silently hope that they won’t notice anything. Yushi clears his throat, breaking the awkward silence.

“Well, uhh, we’ll be in our rooms if you need anything.” He says as he walks towards his room with Riku following him closely behind.

You let out a relieved sigh when Riku and Yushi are out of sight. You share a look with Sion and burst into giggles.

“By the way,” your laughter stops when you hear Riku's voice. You turn to him, who's looking at you and Sion with a knowing look, waiting for him to finish his sentence. 

“You know your shirt is inside out, right?”

Riku then walks away with a smirk on his face. Your eyes shoot to Sion's shirt and face-palm yourself out of embarrassment. Sion laughs out loud, throwing his head back against the back-rest. 

Sion leans closer, speaking in a hushed tone. “Should we continue this in my room?” 

“Hmm… Maybe. Only if you can keep quiet.” 

“I think that's gonna be hard for you, baby.”

Sion looks at you with a smug expression. You raise your eyebrows, taking his words as a challenge.

“Okay, we're doing this now. Let's go.” 

You get off the couch, pulling Sion along with you to go to his room. Yushi got out of his own room just in time to see you slamming the door to Sion's room close and lock it. He turns to Riku, who's standing in the kitchen. Riku sighs and walks towards him, patting him on the shoulder.

“Come on, let's just go to the dorm upstairs and play games with Jaehee.”

[vagabond-umlaut]

a battle well begun is the war half won

gojo notices you. you notice gojo. [the boy wants your eyes on him at all times.]

teen!gojo x fem!reader; first meetings; love at first sight[??]; lovesick gojo[??]; mostly fluffy; 1 small discussion on death; reader is in 1st yr whilst gojo is in 3rd yr; gojo has a very... unique definition of romancing in his brain; 'one-sided enemies to lovers' vibes; 2.2k wc

belongs to the series 'fictitious force' but can be read as a stand-alone if you wanna

the og saying is smthng else, yeah... ik. i js tweaked it a bit for fic title purposes, hehe. also, pls no comments on how i named this series... i used to hv a love-hate thing with pseudo-force problems in physics during my hs... and i'm srsly out of ideas :D

header frm pinterest // divider by @/benkeibear // jjk isn't mine

the sky bleeds green, the first time gojo sees you fight.

it isn't anything enthralling. your movements, far from well-practised. your twisted expression screams unease at best, extreme discomfort at worst— you are definitely not one of the best sorcerers the boy has seen so far—

yet he finds himself utterly transfixed.

feet rooted to the earth as an even brighter green beam cuts through the forest. and the second mountain of cursed energy becomes a few wisps of smoke. your form slumping to the ground not long after—

were the boy a better person at heart, he reckons he would've rushed to help you. but he isn't. not really.

so he keeps to his vantage point. blue eyes narrowing a touch behind his shades, as they watch you slowly heave yourself off the mud, face shifting into a scowl as you trudge towards a tree and plop down with no ceremony in front of it—

a barely-there rustle to his left.

followed by the appearance of the steady simmer of a cursed energy, all too familiar.

"yo, nanamin!" gojo greets, wearing a wide beam the second the said kouhai comes before him, feet carefully and soundlessly treading the rugged terrain— the latter's perpetual glower turns into a momentary flicker of surprise.

but it's vanished before the older boy can comment on it.

nanami's face flattens back to its usual state of annoyed indifference.

"the tournament is already over. yaga-sensei wants us all to report to him in another ten..." the boy trails off. rather abruptly. rather strange for him— aha! so nanamin has finally spotted you in the valley below, huh?— gojo wraps an arm around his kouhai's shoulders, allowing his gaze to return to you as well.

you look pretty cute when you're yawning...

"she's from kyoto, isn't she?"

"yes," the younger boy replies, pinning gojo under a curious look. but it's gone all too soon, all too swiftly like the ones preceding. he drops the arm resting on his shoulder.

gojo lets him. simply pouting in response, before he hums, "do you know her?"

"personally, no," nanami is quick to answer, "but from what i've heard from others... she's somewhat peculiar, if i may say so."

this is honestly one of the best opportunities he will ever get to tease that stoic underclassman of his, even more 'cause since when did he, the nanami kento, start gossipping like old geezers!?— but gojo opts to let this chance pass by.

getting more deets on you is way more important for him.

he doesn't bother to hide his burgeoning interest from his tone. "you know her name by any chance?"

nanami does. and as far as gojo knows, your surname doesn't belong to any of the sorcerer clans. none of the major clans, he is pretty sure of that— you might be from a minor one. or, what his gut feelings are telling him, you're from a non-sorcerer background.

not that it matters to him. he is better than the elders of his clan.

"and which year is she in?"

"first year."

wow. you haven't been in school for more than a few months, but you have already managed to make people talk about yourself, huh? quite impressive, gojo thinks as he steals another glance of you.

this time, no longer yawning. just staring vacantly at your keds—

except those muddy shoes are no longer the object of your attention. it is him— really, so very him— your bright, blinding, blindingly bright gaze, every ounce of it focused on him, as your back straightens. and he spots your shoulders tense, brows furrow—

gojo satoru doesn't run away.

he is one of the strongest duo of jujutsu sorcerers. the boy does not, he cannot, he must not run away... yet that's what he does when his gaze collides with you the first time.

grabbing nanami's hand and wasting not one moment to warp them both to the school rooftop, his kouhai's yelp of surprise goes with an ear-piercing whistle of the winds— gojo releases his hold on the boy, the moment his feet touch the concrete— and turns to him, eyes the calmest he can make them seem.

"tell me everything you know about her— like, right now— or i will tell your dear geto-senpai you were the one who finished his melon pan— quit glaring and start speaking, nanamin!!!"

****

turns out, nanami's heart has a very soft corner for gojo's best friend.

also turns out, the third-year need not wait till the breakfast at 10 am tomorrow, to approach you— you amble into his life, dressed in a tad too washed-out set of pajamas and a terrible hairstyle— gojo reckons an angel too would look the same, when you flip the kitchen lights on, making the clock seem a halo-ey thing behind your head.

you stop. suck in a sharp breath.

the boy swallows the last bit of his mochi. and grins.

"heeey! you're the newbie from kyoto, right? heard a lot 'bout you!"

honestly? it was less of hearing and more of extracting info, but gojo decides not to mention it. you don't have any business knowing that, whatever can be the case— ten painfully slow seconds tick by before you return him a response—

a stiff smile.

an even stiffer bow.

followed by you turning on your heel.

were gojo any slower, you would've slipped from the kitchen without any doubt. but he isn't. which is why not even four seconds can pass before he stills you again, this time not by his tall figure lounging in a terrifyingly dark kitchen but by his fingers grasping your wrist.

thumb pressing into the dangerously frantic pulse beneath your skin.

you try to snatch your hand away. and the boy lets you. only 'cause he was too distracted by the furious warmth of embarrassment creeping into your pretty face— no, it is not for how your skin felt a tad too soft beneath the callouses of his palm...

you're the first one to speak this time. voice so quiet... so firm.

"i don't think i can help you with anything, senpai. please don't bother me this way. let me go... please."

no way in hell is gojo bothering you right now— the indignant retort is the first thing the boy can think of. but he resolves to bite it back.

a stupid argument isn't how he wants his story with you to start. sure, there might and will be those later on, but not now. no. he shoots the second grin of his this night, your way.

"aw, i don't need your help with anything— but yeah, you're right. i'm not supposed to stop you like this... you need to sleep enough before tomorrow's one-on-one duels, don't ya?"

"yeah," you agree easily, eyes drifting to your shoes in a small nod.

gojo's grin widens.

maybe like a cheshire cat.

maybe like a victor cat who finally got the rat right where he wanted: in his paws.

"but you won't be needing a lot of rest if you're already determined to lose the match tomorrow— will you now?"

no, you won't. you obviously won't. gojo has learnt enough about you to predict this much accurately; but maybe not too accurately. given you don't show any sliver of shock or fear in return.

just two eyebrows raised, only to slowly descend to their original level a moment later. your tone feels firmer this time. "what exactly are you trying to tell me, senpai?"

"nothing too serious," the boy hums easily, stuffing his hands into his trousers pockets. why do they start being so cold, so clammy now of all times??— "just that it doesn't take a hell lot of work to maintain an image of being an incompetent idiot, like the one you always seem to be— c'mon," the boy coaxes, making his voice seem extra petulant at noticing still no emotion whatsoever on your face, "you do know what i'm speaking of, don't you?"

in retrospect, maybe... he should have handled you with greater care. you're not only new to your school, but also to the world of sorcery in general. pressing you so hard will hurt you, if not break you entirely— but gojo doesn't let such concerns form in his mind. not even for one whole second.

not when he wants to see something, anything come to life in those bright eyes of yours. he is dying to see a spark in them.

you fold your arms across your chest. brows nearing in a mild scowl. gojo doesn't really understand, but loves the sense of joy the sight is bringing him— "what exactly are you trying to tell me, senpai?" your adorable voice repeats, stonier than before.

he resists the urge to pinch your cheeks. or worse, coo at you.

the boy removes his hands from his pockets. copying your stance as he says, "i cannot really tell you anything, y'know— you're almost as smart as me— i mean, tricking those stinking geezers into believing you're just some weakass, with neither a cursed technique nor good fighting skills, despite the insane amount of cursed energy you've..."

"why did you never curb your cursed energy, by the way?" the query slips past his lips into the space in between: horribly genuine. a fact that doesn't escape your eye, he grasps when you reply— in spite of the not-too-little reluctance marking your features.

"the higher-ups were aware of my high cursed energy before i even knew what the hell it was— it was honestly too late," you state in an awfully matter-of-fact tone, "they would have noticed if i tried to do anything to it."

the 'and they would have harmed me or my family' goes unsaid, but gojo doesn't need to hear it to know it. not entirely intentionally, his voice grows softer with the next question.

"but you tampered with something that no one knew anything of yet— you lied about having no cursed technique, didn't you?"

your hesitation overpowers you this time, however. brows furrowing for a beat at him, before they flatten again. you offer a curt nod.

few more seconds borrowed until you speak again, "but my horrible fighting skills weren't a lie entirely... i really am shit at fighting— you saw that today, did you not?"

he did. he so did—

but that very moment, he also saw just how strong your technique is. surely not as powerful as his. but pretty much capable on its own— it frankly won't be a serious issue even if you keep fighting how you did today—

the sound of a yawn breaks his internal musings.

those big eyes of yours blink up at him. so bleary, so bright. he stifles the urge to pinch your cheeks again. deciding to shoo away the sleep in your eyes by throwing the next ask his brain has cooked up. one he knows, has the biggest 'yes!' ever for its answer—

"you're very scared of dying, aren't you? that's why you always make yourself seem so weak— so much so that you aren't assigned to any mission— don't you?"

— only to question his brain when he notes the easy smile twist your lips. it sharpens at the edges as you answer, "dying's rather easy and uncomplicated, senpai. it doesn't really scare me, except maybe, the pain i might have to suffer— but do you know what's scarier??"

"no," gojo says back quietly. honestly. your smile grows something an awful lot similar to pity— the boy detests it usually... but coming from you, he thinks he will take it.

he will take any look you're willing to give him.

as long as it's you on the other side—

your words reach him quieter than the breeze outside. "what's more terrifying is the worry of what is going to happen to your loved ones, should you just die someday— death is inevitable, but i just want to stave it off for as long as i can. just so i may live with my family... you know what, senpai?" you interrupt yourself abruptly, voice becoming the sharpest in these last fifteen minutes.

a feeble sound escapes the boy.

he isn't sure if it's because of that sincere little hum in your words or if it is the gleam of the moonlight on your face. perhaps, both...

yeah, both— it is rather difficult to distinguish between the beauty of your inner self from that of your outer self— the smile simmers down to a subtle twitch of your lips.

something stutters and stumbles inside gojo's chest.

"i know you see me as nothing more than a coward right now, but i believe... it's better to be a coward and alive, than to be a hero and dead— isn't it, senpai?"

[you're pretty bold, however.

far braver than he could ever deem you to be, the boy muses later to himself with a wry smile, an ice bag on the big toe of his right foot— this poor thing swollen and bruised from how mercilessly the heel of your slipper stamped onto it earlier—

okay, fine— the sorcerer concedes to the imaginary angel perched on his shoulder. something between a grumble and a sigh escaping— he shouldn't have asked you out on a date, in return for him to keep your secrets.

it was really inappropriate, he admits. and gojo likes to see himself as a gentleman... yet, yet, yet.

the need to see that placid mask of yours crack— let it be by a glower and not by the smile, he has never seen on you but knows will be just as lovely as you— that need was too overwhelming then as well...

shushing the angel and fist-bumping his guardian devil, gojo tosses the ice bag away. and falls back into his bed—

a very happy, a touch too giddy grin splitting his face into halves:

you really are a peculiar girl, heh!]

hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️

masterlist

[wishyouloveme]

Too Big

Song rec:Candy shop (50 Cent ft. Olivia)

Warnings:MDNI BEYOND THIS POINT.  Smut. literally just pure smut if the title didn’t indicate it. Oral (fem giving), gagging, Swearing (Is that really a warning anymore, all my stories have it lmao), SLIGHT VERY SLIGHT use of teeth (not enough to injure), slight Manhandling (But papi can manhandle me anyday), Use of pet names (Papi, mami, mi amor, puta (Slut in spanish))

A/N Note: Hey lovelies! I know I know, I've been gone too long. I think it’s just a thing I do now lol. But its been exactly 17 days since y’all got a masterpiece from me, courtesy of me being fucking clumsy and cutting open my finger, and then practically murdering my own foot. But, here’s your masterpiece for the next…hmmm…million years.

JK, I love all of you. Especially you wifey <3 @bloodlinemadness 

Further links: Wishyouloveme (Main blog) Pairing: Luis Berrios Martine Jr. “Damian Priest” x fem! Reader

Further information: Requested, timeline is while he won his belt (Cause lets all be honest, he never should’ve lost it)

TAG TIME: @hannah-h-pleb

@boundbyeclipse

@bloodlinemadness (Ik i already tagged you but shush) 

Oh my god.

He had done it.

He had finally fucking done it.

He had been wanting this from day one, and he had finally done it.

He had finally won his first world title, and with barely any help from the judgement day. He has finally done it. You were now married to a world heavyweight champion.

You kind of figured this meant you wouldn’t see him until the wee hours of the morning, no doubt wanting to celebrate even though he’s known it’s coming for the past few weeks, So you easily settle into the pillows of the shared king size bed, that Damian had practically begged you two to get because “he’s big and he needs space.” That wasn’t really a lie on his part, he is big, in more ways than one, and he does need space. But just because he needs it doesn’t mean he gets it. Most of the time he’ll wake up to you curled into his side late at night, because he hadn’t been home in weeks, and you just missed his scent, his body, just…his everything/ Pulling out the book you had been reading from under the pillow, where it had slipped in your utter happiness for the fact of your boyfriend winning the title. Thankfully, you had the sense to bookmark it before launching it. Opening it to the page you had left on, the words fly past your eyes. Usually you loved to read, but tonight the words weren’t sticking like they did. Like they were supposed to. Instead of the words, you were imagining your husband's hands, the way they wrapped around that belt..oh god. You just wanted him home. I mean, yes, it is selfish, but also, you don’t care. But, you don’t want to ruin his night out. So instead, you send him a quick and simple text.

‘Hey handsome. So proud of you tonight! Have fun with the group, call me if you need a ride or anything at all. Love you!’

But, before you could hit send, you hear the front door open, and feel confusion flood your senses. You knew you had locked the doors earlier when making dinner, ‘cause you had music on blast and wouldn’t hear the door. So the only way someone could get in was a key, and the only people who had keys were you, Damian and your parents, and the man himself. Thinking maybe your mom had come over to congratulate Damian, you stand, pulling a hoodie over the sports bra you had on. Don’t wanna flash your mom, even though she’s seen everything already, multiple times over the years.

Making your way down the stairs, you shiver a little at how cold the hardwood floor is. Another thing you have to bring up to your husband at some point, either heated floors or carpet. As you round the last stair, you hear the clinking sound of keys being deposited into the bowl next to the entrance. Your heart speeds up as you round the corner, and your body baulks surprisedly. This was definitely not your mom. “Baby!” Your eyes were wide, definitely not suspecting him to be home already.

He lets out a small chuckle,  shrugging off the jacket you had bought him months ago that looked so good on him. “Mi amor” He all but groans out, quickly wrapping his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. The sight was downright laughable. This 6 '5 giant hugging what looked like a gnome next to him. You wrap your arms around him, scratching at the back of his neck like you always did. “You did so fucking good today.” You whisper into his ear, planting a small kiss below it. He lets out a small groan, and you feel something bulky against your upper stomach. You break away from the hug slightly, your breath hitching when you realize he’s broughten the belt home with him. You let out a practically silent swear at how fucking good your husband looks right now. Fully black clothing, his hair done up in fresh braids, which he no doubt got done for wrestlemania, the gold belt hanging low on his stomach. He lets out a small chuckle, no doubt taking you in the same way. The smaller shorts that you had thrown on after your shower, the hoodie that looked fresh out of the laundry and somehow like it’s been in the closet for months on end at the same time. He gently swipes his thumb over your hip bone, kissing the edge of your jaw. “You get all dolled up for me?” His voice was low, strained like he was holding back on something. 

“No, actually. I thought it was my mom.” You admit with a small laugh, and continue. “I just had the sports bra and shorts on while watching Wrestlemania, which I'm so proud of you for.” You say softly, leaning up and tugging him down softly, kissing him, trying to pour how proud you were of him into the kiss. He responds in earnest, tugging you closer to him, one of his hands going to red on the side of your head, the other trailing down your spine to your ass, resting there.

You kept kissing him, gently bringing a hand up to his braids, which you could tell weren’t as tender as they were when he left. You were still careful running your hands through them though. He lets out a pleasured groan into your mouth, pushing you back against the wall that separated the entrance and the kitchen. He breaks away, exhaling as he kisses all over your face. “I couldn’t have done it without my amazing wife behind me through every step.” He said, his voice going slightly emotional. You gently caress the side of his face, practically tearing up yourself. “I didn’t do anything. I just believed in what was already there.” His face changes a little, and then he’s kissing you again. A fast, hurried kiss, like he couldn’t get enough of you fast enough. His hands go up to the hoodie, and he breaks the kiss long enough to tug it off of you. You barely hear it hit the ground before he's picking you up, not giving you time to speak as he goes up the stairs into the shared room. He pauses, his eyes flicking with an emotion you don’t have time to place, before he moves the book, putting you on the bed. “You bookmarked this?” He asks, and at the nod of your head, he throws it somewhere random, pushing you back onto the bed as he gets onto it. He starts to take off the belt, but pauses as your hand goes on top of one of his much larger ones. “Leave it on” You urge softly, sitting up to help him get off his shirt, your body practically convulsing at the sight of his chest. “Fuck am I lucky.” You said quietly, running your hands over the panes of his chest, over the tattoo’s there. His breath had already escaped him at you wanting him to keep the belt on, but he let out a groan when your hands felt along his chest. He stares down at you, taking everything about you in, before he leans down, tugging your hair back and kissing down your jaw. “Get on the ground, on your knees.’ He says, his tone leaving nothing to be questioned. You smirk slightly, and take your bra off slowly. Hands slowly go back, brushing along your back as you undo the hooks, gradually making it looser until they pop from the last ringlets, and you slowly slide your hands back to the front, snapping the straps teasingly before pulling it off fully. Heeding the demand, you slowly slip onto the floor, backing up a little before she drops onto her knees, letting out an exhale at the coldness of the hardwood floor. He pauses at the exhale, and he raises an eyebrow. “Either we need to get you a physiotherapist, or different floors.” He comments, undoing his jeans. He comes over, lifting your head. You swallow as you look up at the perfect man in front of you.Your mouth opens at a gentle nudge from his thumb, and he steps back, pushing his boxers down. You knew he was big, but he doesn’t fail to surprise you every single time. You feel your back straighten as he comes closer, but your mouth stays open.You knew what he expected.

He slips his dick into your mouth with little to no friction, and he lets out a small groan. “Fuck princesa” He groans out, feeling the warmth envelop him like a welcoming blanket. “Thats right Mi amor, let the champion fuck this pretty mouth, hm?” He cooes out, running a hand over your hair that felt oh so soft. He pushes further into you, relishing in the small gag he hears come from your mouth, god he loves that. You moan around him, feeling his hand in your hair, and your hips flinch against the floor, the shorts suddenly feeling too tight on your hips. You gag slightly, your eyes rolling back and fluttering closed at the taste of him, feeling a larger vein go across your tongue. You exhale through your nose as he pulls back slightly, and you swallow around him, your hand’s coming up to rest on his thighs. “Fuck I love you, perfect little Puta” He groans out, his hands fisting your hair as he pushes back further. You gag harder when he hits the back of your throat, and your eyes shoot open as you feel something warm and salty hit your back tastebuds. “Fuck baby, c’mon, swallow.” God you were so proud of this man. And god you loved how big his dick was, and how he knew exactly to make you fold.

[hyuckiefluff]

Hey so I hv request! Really love the way you write♡ ok so mark is on adrenaline high frm the concert and is really touch starved and really just wants to fuck his gf! Established realtionship y/n and Mark, feel free to add your magic, thank you!!!

a/n: thank u for the nice words and for sending in this req!! this is exactly what i needed to get back into the mood cuz i’ve (once again) been neglecting my writing lol but anyway when i read this the first thing i thought of was quiet down hence the pic :)

ps: requests are still open btw (still got a lot of them to go through but feel free to send in more) i usually do them in order of which one inspires me the most so even if you send rn i might get to it first!

pairing: mark lee x fem!reader

wc: 1.3k

content warnings: semi-public sex, unprotected sex, slight choking, brief mention of blood, mark is sex starved so he goes a bit crazy, ass groping, handjob (m. receiving), cum eating yeah ik ik i keep writing this but i can’t stop sawry, big c0ck mark!! barely any prep or aftercare (they don’t have time!!!) basically just a messy & needy quickie backstage.

masterlist

Mark was losing his mind. 

Why?

All because you placed him on a week-long sex ban in an attempt to prepare him for the upcoming tour. He knew you were just trying to help him adjust to being away from you, but it felt like torture.

Everything was fine at first, or at least Mark was doing a great job pretending. But as the first week neared its end, his resolve started to crumble. Today, in particular, he was extremely horny for no reason.

...Well, he actually did have a reason and it was the picture you sent him this morning, wearing the new underwear he had gifted you  'They fit perfectly, Markie ;)'.

And as if that wasn’t enough, you showed up to his show wearing his favorite skirt—the very one you knew he always fucked you in. He wasn't sure if he was just thinking with his dick, but it felt like you were trying to push him to his limit.

Either way, it was definitely working, because when you leaned in for a kiss, he caught a glimpse of your underwear in the mirror's reflection and and he had to fight against every part of himself to not moan right then.

To make matters worse, you were still wearing the black lace panties he had gifted you.

By the time he stepped on stage, he was already painfully hard. What kind of pervert gets turned on in front of an audience just because his girlfriend accidentally flashed him? Well, apparently, Mark Lee did.

But he didn't care about looking like a desperate, sex-starved fool. 

So as soon as the VCR started playing and they had to change outfits, he made a beeline for you backstage. Ignoring the protests of staff and confused band members telling him he only had 10 minutes to get ready he grabbed your arm and pulled you through the crowd.

“That’s more than enough time,” he muttered under his breath. Despite your persistent attempts to ask where he was taking you, Mark didn’t stop until you were hidden away in a dark, secluded corner behind the stage.

"Mark, what's going on? Are you okay?" You inspected him with concern in your eyes, checking for any injuries.

"Ah...fuck... I have a really big problem," he groaned.

"What's wrong?" But you quickly understood the issue when he pulled up his shirt, revealing the growing bulge in his pants.

You tried not to laugh, but the way he looked like a child in need of help was too endearing. "Aw, did I do this to you?"

"It's not funny," he protested, suddenly invading your personal space. "I need you to fix it." His forehead pressed against yours, his hands roaming over your sides and gripping your hips to press you firmly against his body, your lower abdomen coming in contact with his hard on.

"Of course, baby" you replied, ready to kneel down, but he stopped you by grabbing your arm. You looked at him confused, and the stage lights cast an angle that highlighted his pleading eyes. They were glossy with desire.

"I need to be inside you," he murmured, his voice strained and raspy.

The idea of having backstage sex at his concert with just about seven minutes left before he had to return to the stage felt crazy. But there was something about it that turned you on beyond explanation.

So, you cupped his face and kissed him hard enough that your teeth clashed with his lips, but not even the slight taste of blood stopped you from devouring each other’s mouth. Mark quickly matched your intensity, his tongue wasting no time exploring every corner of your mouth. Every time he nibbled on your lips, it elicited little gasps from you. His hands moved from your hips to your ass, pressing you firmly against his bulge, a clear reminder that he was about to explode down there.

You started to undo his pants, the friction of his erection against the fabric made him suck in air through his teeth. He broke away from your lips, allowing you to pull down his pants. His boxers were already stained with pre-cum, and when you lowered them, his dick looked at you flushed and angry. You bit your lip, his size always made you clench your thighs in anticipation.

Before you could even touch him, he turned you around and that’s when you realized you were pressed against one of the glass boxes from their performance.

"Mark..." you moaned his name when you felt the tip of his dick at your entrance. There was no time for much preparation so when he slowly pushed his hips forward, a string of curses left his lips at the tightness.

"Fuuuck..." he groaned when your walls clenched around him relentlessly. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you leaned against the box for support

“God, you feel so good” His hands gripped your hips, and you felt his lips kissing your shoulder before he whispered that he was going to start moving. You nodded weakly.

His pace started out slow, but there was an undeniable urgency in each motion. His hand moved from your hips to your neck, gripping you softly and pulling you closer with every deep thrust. His lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear, and with every kiss and nibble, you couldn't help but clench around him, making his hand close tighter against your throat. This pattern continued for a while, bringing you closer to the edge.

"Please..." you whimpered, and he grunted softly against your neck.

"What do you need, baby?" he asked.

"More, please, I need more," you moaned, feeling his grin against your neck.

He wasted no time. His thrusts quickened, and you couldn't help but release soft gasps and moans with each movement. You leaned forward against the box, your breath fogging up the glass, feeling it tremble beneath you as he continued fucking into you harder. Mark was losing himself, or perhaps he already had; he was rutting against you as if he was an animal in heat.

"M-mark... I'm close," you mewled, not sure if he even heard you amidst the loud cheers.

"Mhm, me too," he moaned, his voice strained. 

It only took a few more thrusts and you were spent, moaning and mumbling incoherently as he helped you ride your orgasm.

 "Fuck, it's gonna be messy if I cum inside you," he realized, slowing his movements.

He was right… he wasn't wearing a condom so as soon as he pulled out, it would definitely drip down your legs. And there wasn’t anything nearby to clean you up with.

"Pull out," you said, and you could see his confusion from the corner of your eye. Nonetheless, he did as told. His hand was already on his dick, ready to take care of himself, but when you knelt down, it was as if his body glitched momentarily.

Your hands replaced his, applying just the right amount of pressure in your strokes to evoke that familiar sensation building in his gut. You looked at him through your eyelashes, your makeup slightly smudged from tears and sweat. The sight was incredibly hot, and just when he was about to cum, you opened your mouth, catching all of his release. Some of it trickled down your throat. The whole scene, along with the sounds you made while swallowing, had Mark almost in tears from the sheer intensity of the moment.

After swallowing every drop, you stood up, adjusting your panties and casually licking a remnant from the corner of your lips, all while maintaining eye contact with Mark. He watched you in stunned silence, still catching his breath. You chuckled when he remained frozen for a good 10 seconds, pulling him close gently and zipping up his pants. In that moment, you heard his voice.

“Please come on tour with me,” he begged, his eyes wide with hope. You just smiled and kissed him.

“Where’s Mark?! You guys are up in 2 minutes!” The staff's frantic shouts pulled you both back to reality. You exchanged a glance and burst into giggles like a pair of teenagers.

i think i might be shadowbanned guys so interact with this post if u enjoyed it pls &lt;3

[complete-clownery]

Not me deciding that I wanna figure out how does Macaques dojo work, cuz I couldnt seem to find any ideas of it on the internet lol

Okay so long long LONG rant:

Ik that in canon the whole place looks kinda-- moldy and shit and I get the lot of hc about how Macaque probably doesnt even live there since its in a very industrial outer neighborhood of Megaplois, and also it probably isnt really decorated or looks like someone is living in there at all, but I like to think that he has standards and they put like 272636373 nois cancelation seals on their bedroom so he can sleep camly when he actually can sleep (since in my hc Macaque suffers from insomnia (its a pretty common hc tho, but you get it)) and I think the outer circle of Megaplois is even tho industral and under constructuion on most parts, its probably more quiet than downtown

And I also like to imagine, Macaque even tho if not commited to a place will make it more homy. But looking at my reference pictures, in the dojo there were also a lot of posters and paintings (and in MKAGC Macaque did mention he might have a poster of wukong soooo~~)

For the layout I went after whatever felt right, since I had like 4 pictures to piece together a two-story house with a gallery(??) so its actually just me deciding what I want and where I wanna put it

(Here are the screenshots from lmk s1ep9 I used:)

Okay Okay if you couldnt tell, for some reason im really hyped about this stuff so im going to lead you trough my thougtprocess, when imagining this whole thing, in order from ground level to gallery

1. Ground level:

Ahh yes ground level: the problem child

(Im going to keep it somewhat brief here cuz I wrote a shit ton of explanations for it, but that somehow got deleted which I am super pissed about btw)

So I saw that a lot of hc with Macaques place are mostly that first floor is the dojo and the second floor is the living area, buuut~~ based on the screenshots of the series that doesnt make any sense. My reasoning? Simple really, its bc you can see the ceiling If you are standing in the dojo. This could lead to the conclusion that:

"Okay maybe then there is no second floor just a gallery in there somewhere and thats it".

Sure we can say that, but then you would ignore the fact that you cant see the front door of the building when Macaque slams Mk into a weaponstand.

"Okay then its on the other side of the room that we never got to see in the episode"

I mean maybe sure but to me from an animation point of view it just doesnt make sense, just why would they flipp the camera angle like that (I mean anyone can think whatever they want, everyones opinion is valid, its not like anyone would ever argue me on this one ((or read this whole brainrot trough in the first place lol)))

Haha anyways regardless of anything, let's go back to talking about the first floor, shall we?

Everything is pretty self explenatory: when you come in on the front door youll see a little shoe rack where you can but your shoes, and one stair to seperate the ante-room from the rest of the house

Then theres a long hall that leads to the enterence of the storageroom, the random room and the staircase that leads to the second floor

I couldnt decide on what to put in that big room-- I had no clue -- I was thinking maybe Macaque could let other people rent it for a few days of maybe theres a shop with an owner whos ranting the place from Macaque (I think thats an interasting concept, but I didnt explore any of them) oh well thats that tho

"""somewhat brief""""

Second floor:

This was probably the easiest, since 90% of it is the dojo

But before that when you walk up to the second floor you can see a big boubel door that opens to the dojo, and a normal door that opens to the bathroom, which is strategicly placed there by yours truely. There is big brain logic behind it,, it might be inconvinient for Macaque to walk down the stairs from his bedroom trough the dojo to the bathroom (but also he can just shadow portal there--), but when ocasionally he mentors Mk, he might have to go to the bathroom while hes at Macaques place and I dont think Macaque would apritiate someone stomping trough his personal area, and thats why the bathroom is conviniently placed next to the dojo and not that far from the bathroom I know im a genius (**read everything in the bathroom part with a lot of sarcasm**)

Anyways, we couldnt even see all four of the dojos walls so that was also a 'gamble', but I went with a simple bouble door that I mentioned before and two weapon stands (yes those are weapon stands) and other than that you can see the rest of the room on the screenshots, theres also the staircase and that has some closet underneath it, but thats about it

The gallery (my personal favorit):

Looking at my reference pictures i could see that the dojo took up a lot of space almost taking up the 1/2 of the building, which I think is reasonable and kinda cool, but that means small living area which I think is even cooler (I am a huge fan of small practical spaces, they feel so so cozy)

So Yeah the living space: mostly two rooms that I also illustrated on top of this post, (you probably saw it) with a balkony thingy before the enterence of the rooms, where you can look down and see the entirety of the dojo, good for observing.

When you go in the door (actually havent decided if I want to put a door there or curtains for style but meh who knows who cares), youll enter the small but spacious kitchen. I dont see the Six Eared Macaque as a homecook, more of a fake cooking guy (only making basic foods like eggs or toast, maybe ocasionally pancake), hints there is no built in stove or owen just a portable stove, a kettle and a toaster and a small fridge that has MKs drawing (that he drew for them at the end of season 3) magneted there :]

Other than that theres a sink and an old television, he got from the randomest place ever, maybe he fished it out of the trash idk, but he put it on top of the cabinets (rarely watches anything on it)

On the baseplan you can see that there was supposed to be a small table next to the sink with a chair, but it didn't make it to the final drawing cuz let's be honest: drawing interior in correct perspective without a reference picture is just not my strongest artskill I posess, so I got pissed and put a trashcan in there, Macaque can eat in his bed

Talking about bed, let's move on to the Six Eared Macaques room:

It is very small but pretty comfortable with a small bed but a shit ton of pillows for a good nights sleep, other than that there are a nightstand that has the Lantern on it (I know it sorta got lost/destroyed after defeating LBD but I wanted to put it there) and a drawer.

The nightstand probably doesnt have a lot innit, just some nick-nacks and tissues and maybe snacks, or a book or something, the drawer stores some of his clothes, but since I like to think that Macaque is a fashion icon that wont be able to fit most of their clothes, so maybe he stores them in a pocket dimension of shadows, and only has some esentials there when he needs to get ready quickly.

And we could talk about the posters plastered around the room, but most of them are kinda self-explanatory, but there are the poster of his shadowplaly of the hero and the warrior, some drawing, a "Hang in there babygirl!" Poster with a cat on it hanging in there, a poster of the monkey king (heh), phantom of the opera poster and a-- well--- that ones for my bestie hope she'll notice it, its a spies are forever poster (really fun musical a of spies, go watch it its on youtube), and a drawing he brought( maybe)

And thats about the bedroom

And we are still not done, how are we feeling about that?? Huh?? (You dont have to answert, this shit took me about 2 hours to write :] )

LAST PLACE: the corner of the windows opposit the kitchen and the bedroom. Its just a chill little place with pillows and blankets, where someone can bundle up and enjoy some tea or read a book or brood, whatever the monkey prefers. The special thing about it, is that you cant access the place without knowing how to levitate, fly, jump high, or use portals, not that much of a game changer since more than half of the lmk cast could get up there, but still a bit of a barrier in my opinion

AAAAAND~~~ thats it omg

Hi hello if you read this trough could you please comment or reblog with this: "🐵" cuz I wanna know about the brave soilders who went trough this immense amount of clownery,,, holly mother---

If you read this all 👏👏👏 you are amazing thank you for appreciating my work this much, have an amazing day or night ✨🪲

[bagelo0]

smth smth about me wanting to connect crows and hamilton smth smth, i’m delusional, also no shading here bc it looked rly bad with it 💥

messy explanation under the cut

also, yes, i did switch it from the og post, from ravens with ham to the crows with ham instead

okay to the folks curious about the connection sorry to dissapoint its just me being a little delusional like the violin and piano thing with ham and burr, anyways, i wanted to connect ham and burr to some extra pizazz if i ever make animatics, so here i am trying to bs my way for raven and crows, and disclaimer i dunno crap about birds, i just google so sorry for anything wrong

ravens and crows are easily mistaken for each other and i think that fits with ham and burr being quite simillar, they are both young prodigies that were orphaned at a young age, their paths parallel each other and i think choosing two simillar looking birds can somewhat show that simillarity between them, and as an extra these two birds are rly common in the US so it wouldn’t be that jarring when i draw them

now to the symbolisms, ravens and crows also share characteristics here, vision and prediction, while also both being intuitive and clever, I associated burr with ravens because of it symbolizing death and misfortune, which i mean, i think that describes his childhood pretty well (also bc in my head the wait for it motif is just burr being haunted by ghosts), but apparently ravens can also be a symbol for rebirth and starting anew, which i think actually burr and hamilton can be associated with both of those things but shhh

with hamilton’s crows, the one i wanna focus on is the apollo symbolism (yes kinda funky but im trying my hardest to bs this), crows and apollo are associated with prophecy, but specifically black crows being associated with being doomed, and if i can use one word to describe hamilton’s life, it would be doomed 😀(works rly with timeloop au just sayin, he is always doomed to die)

anyways also found that crows are socially monogomous but sometimes cheat on their partner, i think that is just a tidbit of foreshadowing, while ravens mate for life, only finding another mate when their first one dies, and crows are the ones associated with mischieve and are also known to be social, while ravens are more solitude, i think that fits ham and burr

and lastly and most importantly /s—i just wanna draw birds and i think these two birds would have a really nice aesthetic, this is all for fun💥

alright thanks for reading this ik its quite long, i apologize, have a nice day :]

[heerinnie]

𝐌𝐯𝐧𝐜𝐡

𝐒.𝐉𝐘

SYNOPSIS: Jake is a munch. That’s it.

WARNING: Pure filth, no plot basically just porn, oral (f receiving), Jake finishes untouched, fem!reader, oral fixation.

WC:

^^ NSFW UNDER CUT, MINORS DNI (not proofread)

Read under cut

Jake is a mean menace. More than a menace actually, he’s an evil fuck because as soon as you two became official he would use any excuse to get you riled up enough to the point of suffocating him with your plush thighs chasing that sweet release. He's like a chaotic mastermind- or rather what you call him ‘Horny Megamind’.

He’s so pussy drunk he needs it every day, every morning and every night. When you're out at a party or even visiting his childhood home in Australia he will find time to nestle between your legs like a baby bird in its mother's nest. Your cunt is like alcohol to him.

Jake was such a pussy driven maniac that if he didn't get a taste of you he would become cranky and agitated. He described the feeling as if bugs were crawling under his skin and he was dying. The only solution was to treat him like your good, pretty boy and give him his reward to satisfy his craving.

As much as he loved teasing you, the moment you would tease him back he would become visibly annoyed and shocked. You could see him biting back any words or noises that threatened to escape from his mouth, as he poked inside his cheek with his tongue. On the other hand, for you, it really was entertaining to watch, especially when you were surrounded by your group of friends or worse, at a family dinner. The way he tried to stifle his annoyance and soften his growing bulge was both amusing for you and embarrassing for him, making you eager to know what he’s planned to do about it once you reach your shared apartment.

Things only got more interesting when you two talked about things that you’d want to try out in the bedroom. Your mind scattered to times your eyes caught Jake mid-munch rutting his very obvious and painfully hard boner against your bed frame trying to get himself the same release he’s giving you at the moment. Personally you found the thought of Jake being so in love with you that he could cum just by eating you out so attractive that you had to mention it to him, no friction no touch, just him thrusting his bare hips up trying to get attention to his pulsing dick, only to be met with the nothingness of air whilst pathetically grinding his nose into the clit above his face.

You made a promise to yourself that you would eventually convince him to try cumming without touch, and the thought of him doing so of his own free will fills you with joy. However, you know that once he sets his sights on something, he becomes obsessed with it like when he was so adamant on making you squirt. So for the time being you kept that fantasy to yourself, waiting for the perfect opportunity to present itself.

AN: okay I'm actually back now, I'm planning a long fic about doctor!hoon and just know you'll be sobbing at it ☺️ And this is just a filler for those who were waiting, also urmh2 is in the planning I'm out of ideas for the part 2 plot but I do know who i want in the LOVE TRIANGLE?! (ik you weren't expecting that were you 😍)

anyways thanks for reading mvnch <3

[changbinsboobs]

How is Skz's personal hygiene like?

So for all of them im seeing the have a pretty good hygiene and are very clean and take good care of themselves. More details follow:

Chan - he is overall a clean person, not only in his personal hygiene but also in his home environment and his way of doing things he gives of...i wouldn't say clean freak vibes, but its definitely noticeable to others how he's very particular about things cleanliness.

Lee know - im hearing he likes being naked😂 its natural and healthy to be in a humans natural form. Love that guy😂 so yeah he enjoys spending time in his natural form, like how he came on earth - and he can do that best in the shower of course or while sleeping. Im also seeing him finding a lot of peace and quite in the shower and i think those are the more mindful times of day for him. He can think well and decompress in the shower so, if not for anything else then at least for that reason he does spend a good amount of time tending to his hygiene.

Changbin - for him im seeing that he's always hot so he probably sweats a lot? Like under the armpits or in the crotch area...mike in places where sweat can start smelling quicker than lets say back sweat or face or chest sweat. Im also seeing stomach/gut stuff? Hot/spicy food? Nerves? Something like this. So im leaning towards thinking that he may have some issues with body odor? Maybe he smells faster than the other guys? Or he has a specific or a stronger scent? (Ik Koreans don't have stinky sweat, they can still stink tho) (not saying he's stinky, just wanted to clarify). Maybe he often has smelly breath cuz of certain food or something? Idk. So yeah i think he may be overly conscious of that and does his best to keep himself clean and fresh...especially to come across well to others. The thing i can't pick up on here is if that complex is just in his head, like someone told him once or twice that he has to shower or that he has to brush his teeth cuz he's stinky or whatever and he took it to heart and went with it now having a conplex. Or if that people indeed find him smelly. And IF they still find him smelly despite him putting effort in being clean and fresh?

Hyunjin - He loves water!!! And im seeing him absolutely living showers. A bit like lee know i think for him taking a shower could often be the highlight of his day. Also, just to be clear i don't just mean showers when i say hygiene, there other stuff like teeth brushing, changing undies, changing clothes, having fresh smelling laundry, brushing hair, cleaning urself correctly after u use the toilet, hand washing all that stuff. For some reason tho showers have been more in focus so yeah. Anyways back to hyunjin, he loves showers and...thats not so much the topic of the reading but i think he also lives making love in the shower...👀just putting that out there very quickly. I think he takes many showers, like i can see him taking multiples a day. Now contrary to changbin i don't see him being hot all the time, nor being nervous - but i see him sweating A LOT!!! Overall im seeing him being very...liquid(?)😂 idk how to put that into words but like his body does...secrete(?) lots of fluid. So i guess he should shower more often anyways, but that doesn't bother him at all. Also i think he does take quite long in the shower & im seeing him playing scenarios in his head, fantasizing about his crushes, winning arguments, putting someone in his place just having full blown conversations and letting all the sass out in there. I think showering is truly an experience for him😂 love that for my guy.

Han - he keeps himself pretty clean too, im seeing him have a healthy routines and habits concerning personal hygiene i think his parents taught him very well when he was young so thats second nature to him and is just something that belongs to his every day life he doesn't think mich else of it.

Felix - i think he has to get reminded sometimes. Don't get me wrong i think he is clean, he doesn't smell - but that's not so much because he takes such exzellent care of his hygiene but because he's just really lucky and doesn't stink quickly and still looks good even if he skips a shower or two. I wouldn't say that's cuz of laziness or neglect, i think he can get carried away with other stuff at times and maybe struggle to structure his day or time and may forget some basic hygiene needs every once in a while like going out without brushing his teeth, or using the toilet and not washing his hands...something like that. But again he's really lucky and i bet most people don't even notice until he says something cuz he just remembered or whatever.

Seungmin - ehm...im not seeing that much about his personal hygiene but rather im seeing he's someone to judge others for theirs(?). Or maybe judge is too strong of a word, but like, calls others put. If someone lacks a bit somewhere like not doing skin care, not fixing their hair, not brushing teeth immediately after eating he calls you out, provably publically, and kind if pressures you into doing whatever u haven't done.

I.N - he thinks personal hygiene is very important and diligently takes care of himself. This is something he has to think about consciously, contrary to han for example for whom its just second nature - i.n put conscious thought and care into it. Im also seeing him following social and trend rules religiously altogether and likes to comply with those and fit in and be...obedient(?) and good(?).

[weixuldo]

Allow me// ch 18

a/n: ok pooks- I have obviously not written in a hot min so im so so sorry if my style and writing are not as good as they once were :( I hope you still enjoy but ik how badly written fics can impact hte experience so i hope it hasn't gone too downhill lol- ive also just been speaking german for like 3 months so that also isnt helping my already bad grammar

Desire is just within reach.

warnings: Smex, cursing?, Vaders big-scarred dick, body worship, afb!reader, mention of pussy lol, p in v, oral (m recieving), fingering

_____________________

You shivered at the cool tile under your feet once you got out of the shower. The bathroom was foggy with soothing steam as you dried off. 

Today was long and you were feeling a little tense after the odd interaction with Vader earlier. Thankfully you were able to push that thought to the back of your mind once you felt the warm water cascade down your tired body. 

Once you were finished drying off, you walked to your room and dawned one of the silk nightgowns Vader has (secretly) gifted you. It was sage green with soft lace along the bottom hem and low halter neckline. 

You sat down on your bed and brushed your hair as you hummed a soft melody that was stuck in your head. 

__________________

Vader’s new found determination and willpower coursed through his veins as he signaled for his bath to be drained.

The cooling liquid slowly drained as he hung over the platform, waiting for his legs to be lifted to his ports. 

He hadn’t felt so self assured since his last days as Anakin…

So he took in every moment he could- he felt powerful… worthy. 

Once his limbs were all attached, he flexed his hands and arms to check everything was in place. His bionic appendages attached to his body seamlessly- nothing felt excruciating today. 

His body felt different, for the first time in a long time it felt like it was his once more.

Like he was in control. 

He was dizzy with adrenaline- he wanted to take his X wing and go find Palpatine at that very moment. But he couldn’t, he needed to think about this, he needed a plan. 

Was this all eventually going to happen? Would he have found himself again eventually? Or were you the catalyst?

You.

You with your wit and bright eyes. You with your tender touch and lovely soul. 

His muse. 

You were his reason to live. 

Soon his determination was diverged from its original path of destruction- now, what he needed was something he could have. 

Something within reach.

He tensed and looked down to see his usually dormant member proudly erect and throbbing with desire. 

His yellow eyes widened- he wasn’t even sure it could get that hard anymore. He worried if he touched it, he would come undone on the spot- but he couldn’t help himself. 

Reluctantly he wrapped his cool digits around the pale and scarred shaft- he sucked in a sharp breath from the cold sensation before giving himself two long pumps. 

He groaned and his metal knees shivered. It felt good- so good, but not enough.

He needed warmth…

He needed you. 

_____________

You yawned as you finished reading over your schedule for tomorrow getting ready for bed. 

As you were about to pull back your sheets, you felt a compelling force exerting pressure on your chest- a shiver ran down your spine as you felt overwhelmed with a new (but good) sensation. 

Suddenly you heard the oh so familiar sound by your door… that breathing.

Vader was here. 

Before you knew it, you had moved towards the door and opened it in anticipation. 

In front of you stood Darth Vader, but not in his normally composed state- instead, he seemed a bit disheveled; his armor was askew, his breathing was ragged, and his cloak wasn’t quite fastened correctly. 

Your first instinct was to ask what was wrong, but before you could, Vader stepped into your room and slid the door shut with a simple movement of his fingers. 

“V, I didn’t expect to see you tonight” you said in surprise as he stood in the entry to your room. 

Without words he advanced towards you and the sensation in your chest grew.

Was it his doing? Or simply a side effect of his domineering aura. 

“I…” he began, his mechanical voice sounding as if it had dropped an octave (if that was even possible). 

“Have been thinking about you” he finished as he gently brushed your exposed shoulder with one of his gloved hands. 

You closed your eyes and whimpered at the cool sensation of the leather before opening them again to see your lover’s masked face peering down at you from his lofty height. 

“H-have you?” you squeaked out as he ran his hand up your shoulder, over your collarbone, and finally resting on the side of your neck. 

The sensation…the pressure was becoming all too much- you felt your desire pooling underneath your nightgown.

You knew he was a bold man, but when it came to you, he usually seemed to like for you to set the pace during these sort of endeavors.

Not that you minded, this. 

It made everything all the more exciting as your anticipation for his next moves grew (much like the bulge under his codpiece). 

You leaned into his touch and he ghosted his thumb over your plump lips before gently positioning his gloved hand around your neck as if he were going to choke you. 

Instinctively you grasped his forearm, the strong metal under the glove, fixed under your touch. 

“Vader” you breathed out before running your hands down his torso. 

He choked back a moan from the sensation of your fingernails running down his chest. Without another word he lifted you onto your bed and positioned himself between your legs. 

His strong hands traversed your body as he gripped onto your soft flesh; he desperately wished he could feel your skin, your warmth. 

“Vader, what’s gotten into you?” you asked, trying not to sound like you weren’t practically on the verge of ripping his codpiece off. 

He continued kneading your breasts through the thin fabric as he lowered his helmet to your ear, “I need to feel you- we’ve waited long enough…” he whispered. 

You put your hands delicately on the sides of his mask to bring him up to your face. Vader felt his heart racing as he looked into your big beautiful eyes, your lashes batting as you waited for his next words. 

“I need you,” he admitted breathlessly. 

Without a second thought you looked behind the large man and flipped on the switch that pressurized your room. 

“Then have me” you responded.

Vader groaned behind his mask before shoving up the bottom of your gown so that your red lacy panties were on full display for him. His cock throbbed at the sight- the color was the same color as his lightsaber, he had them custom made for you and set them in your drawer a while back. 

He didn’t know if you ever actually wore them, but now he made a mental note to get more designed. 

“Let me see you” 

Your voice brought him back to you and without any hesitation he obliged, allowing you to take off his helmet. He was about to lean himself back over you but you pressed a hand against his chest. 

“What’s the matter?” he asked, his unmodulated voice a bit raspy. 

“All of you” you said, unclasping this cape and removing his armor. 

Again, he allowed you to remove whatever you wanted until he was down to just his robes. 

He softly laid you back down onto your bed with labored breaths as you guided him on top of you. His exposed silver digits made you gasp as they sunk into your sides. Vader softly planted his scarred lips on your stomach before slowly making his way towards your neck. 

The juxtaposition of his cool touch and warm mouth made you dizzy. His kisses to your neck became deeper and you began to think that they might leave marks. 

You clawed at the robes on his back as he nibbled at your earlobe. 

“You are mine” he declared in his true voice. 

“I am” you confirmed before pulling him in for a kiss. 

Your tongue explored his mouth as his hands explored your body more. 

Vader felt like he could burst at any second, but he needed to keep himself under wraps a bit longer. 

It had been quite a long time since the sith had done anything this explicit. It wasn’t that he forgot how to, it was more so he wasn’t quite sure if what he would normally have done would still feel good. 

Despite the doubt, he opted to test it out. 

Cautiously, he pushed himself back up and slowly drew his fingers down between your legs. His intense eyes never left yours as he pulled your panties off and experimentally swiped a finger over your clit. Your face scrunched at the sudden feeling before he inserted a digit into your warmth. 

You gasped and he added another.

His fingers reached further, making you cling on to his shoulders with a gasp. 

He felt a spurt of precum shoot out of his dick at your reaction. 

“Oh dont stop” you moaned as he began to touch your breasts with his free hand. 

In your ecstasy driven state, you quickly attempted to pull his robes off (not quite understanding how they were tied). After a few attempts, Vader understood what you wanted- it was then, and only then- that he paused. 

He withdrew his digits garnering a whine from you before he stood to his full height with a furrowed brow. He hadn’t shown all of himself to you yet, you had seen his body and the damages he had withstood, but you had never seen his whole body.

He had never shown himself willingly to anyone since his accident. 

Insecurities began slipping back into his mind- what if you were appalled, what if you didn’t want him like that anymore-

Vader was drawn back to you once more as your hands found his hips. He looked down to see you on your knees, staring up at him through thick lashes. 

Maker. 

What he wouldn’t do for you. 

“It’s ok V” 

Your assurance comforted him enough to begin removing his robes. As each layer came off, the more you wanted him.  

The texture of his damaged skin may have deterred others, but you saw him as a masterpiece. Every burn, every scar, every ridge told his story. 

Soon he was down to only his underwear, making it hard for you not to shamelessly stare at his member straining against the thin fabric.

You busied yourself by running your hands along his taught muscles- all that time lugging around that monstrous suit definitely strengthened the body he had left. 

His muscles bulged as he crawled back on top of you slowly pressing his clothed erection between your legs with a groan. He dragged his length up your pussy and bathed in the sensation of your wetness dampening his underwear.

It wasn’t often he could actually feel something. 

Especially something so magnificent. 

He moaned softly into your ear as you locked your legs around his waist, rutting his cock against your sensitive bud. His eyes were shut in bliss as you rocked him back and forth against your core. 

That was until he felt your hand slip under his waistband. 

With a choked cry Vader’s yellow eyes shot open as you gave him a few slow pumps. 

“shit“ he cursed as his arms wavered. 

“That’s it, let me please you” your voice rang in his ear. 

No longer were insecurities surrounding his mind- you were taking charge.

You wanted him. 

You guided him onto the bed and began to pull his briefs down his legs until you successfully discarded them onto the floor with all of his other garments. 

Now. 

Here he was. The mighty Darth Vader. In all of his glory- his pale member standing proudly. 

Just for you. 

The sight alone was enough to get you there. 

You raked your nails gently down his stomach, over his ports, and finally rested at the base of his dick. 

He was heavy and quite stiff. You took a moment to look him over; he was big (of course he was), there were veins running up the sides with a rather prominent one running from the left side to the tip. As for the head, it was puffy and angrily red (yearning for release no doubt).

Just like the rest of his body, his member was littered with old burn scars. 

Vader was about to apologize for the sight, but before he had the chance, you had him half way down your throat. 

The sith shuddered beneath you as his hips unintentionally bucked up at the sensation. You groaned as you tried to take more of him; the vibrations of your noises made him see stars. It was when you reached a sneaky hand around to cup his heavy balls that he knew he was done for. 

He let out the most pornographic moan you had ever heard before pulling you off of him and switching positions so that you were under him once more. 

You wiped your mouth before he plunged his lips against yours and gripped his length with his right hand. Breathlessly he rested his forehead against yours as you cupped his face with your hands. 

“Are you alright Vader?” you asked as you noticed he was wheezing a bit. 

He nodded before shutting his eyes for a moment. Quickly, Vader called upon the force to assist him in temporarily regulating his breathing so that he could finish- he was almost there. 

“I want to be inside of you” he managed through ragged breaths. 

You nodded vigorously before wrapping your arms around his neck, bracing yourself for his length. 

In one swift motion he pushed himself into your aching cunt with an exasperated sigh.

Holy shit, you were tight. Your gummy walls sucked him right in and he swore that you were made for him. 

“Oh Maker, y/n. Your pussy is going to make me cum” Vader grunted as he slammed his hips into yours. 

Never had you heard him talk so vulgarly…

Pussy? You expected him to say anything but that. For some deranged reason, his words only turned you on more. Soon you were meeting his thrusts with your own as he hit all the right spots. 

“Say it louder” you demanded, pulling him impossibly closer. 

“Maker, your pussy was made of me- I'm gonna- I’m cumming! I’m-” he babbled as he feverishly slammed his aching cock into you before releasing a primal cry. 

Soon his warm seed flooded your insides as you felt your own climax wash over you like a tsunami. Your legs shook around his waist as your walls clamped down on him, begging for every last drop. 

Vader’s hips stuttered as his bionic legs began to tremble before he collapsed on top of you with a sigh. You gasped as his length was pushed back deep inside of you, before soothingly running your hands up and down his broad back, helping him come down from his high. 

Once the debilitating sensation passed, you coaxed him off of you and helped him lie down on the bed beside you. He whined as you pulled yourself off of his spent dick- it twitched and pulsed as the cool bedroom air hit it after being in your warmth for so long. 

You handed Vader one of the extra oxygen tubes you kept in your room for him before he reached for his cape to clean you off with. 

“You are so beautiful” he whispered, looking at you with his magnificent blue eyes. 

You sleepily smiled and caressed his cheek, “and so are you, my love”.

Vader felt his heart swell and his expression soften as he found his place next to you; blue eyes mapping your features as if he would never see you again. 

This is all he ever wanted. 

And he would protect you with his life. 

***

a/n: okiiii soooo yea, idk- bro wasn’t gonna last long 😔- hope it was good! thx for reading :)

taglist: @vadersassistant @sxoulohvn @khaleesihavilliard @kashasenpai @darling-murdock @beautifulbearpolice @salvatoresister1 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @blueninjablade3 @jujuba096 @missmannequin @jellydodger @mirastark @wyvernthekriger @duckyhowls @monada43 @lauriidoesstuff @vienettacream @ray-rook @itswhatever06 @ilovenielperry @icequeen8043

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[spoilers below cut]

AY I CALLED IT! To the anon who asked me about it, we are getting a silly episode today :D

I'll be honest, that arc got me burnt out with all the theories and teasers. Sure was fun but man, it's like coming home from a party. Now I can take things easy. Well, hopefully since the Puzzles figurine already dragged me back to my corkboard, I have no idea what the Team's planning smh /pos

why not have a good ol' time today, huh?

(the following is my live reaction:)

hey 4, I did see Gaslight District and dude, it looks like a movie. like how??? glitch surprises me everytime.

oh yea, and also bc james half-jokingly said that he's stop voicing 3 if we didn't watch the premiere. I mean, I already was planning to, no worries there :)

oh the intro, it never gets old

😨 oh... my god... <- my organized ass

"hey, Four" sorry but the fact that they called him 4 🥹 and technically this would be 3's second time. everyone, write that down

(and I did say it too, huh?)

oh, you mean the microwave 4's grandpa (read: SMG1) gave away? /hj

*sonic voice* oh yeah, this is happening!

put me in coach, todo quedara bien chingón después que acabamos. ✨bellísimo✨ diría yo

Oh, maybe next time for your presentation, luigi

...and there it is 😌↕️

how much food did that fridge....? nope nvm. only in the SMG4 universe *cheesy laugh track*

gross, yes, but Mario ate way worse stuff before. he should be fine, I still feel bad though

can we take a moment of just 4 here? :)

done? ok good

wait... was that a callback to the infestation episode?

well, that makes sense

*concerned microwave noises*

OH GOD MEGGY NOT THE HAIR

welp lesson 1, chat: always tie all hair up before cleaning

there we go, one room down! ooh, ramen sounds nice

...wait, say that one more time? "you don't know what me and those chopsticks have been through together"?

oh god.....

Western Spaghetti, is that you?

don't mind me, chat. i'm just going to uh.... be in my pillowfort for a bit

we were so close, man 😔

c'mon bob, you can't keep hoarding like this

well, we found one of the chopsticks

WOAH 😦 Mario really did it... and he might puke, GO GO GO

AAAH HIT THE BRAKES

ooh.....

oh god, it's even worse

4, you already got knocked out cold once, we can't let you go through it again

same, 3 😔↕️ same

hey swag, just. just take the microwave bud. don't mind this.

"The Castle's had a good run." ....i'm sorry, what?

I need to pause this. I need to leave the room. Everyone, take 5.

*40 minutes later* ......I don't. what am I supposed to say?

the Team had Swag say "the castle had a good run, time to nuke it", LITERALLY have him pulling out the IGBP thumbnail? AND THEN gave 4 ptsd flashbacks? just like that???

everything in my core just sank through the ground and into my grave! why, team, why? dude.......

oh, 4 :( *head in hands* I know bud, ik

idk how 4 does it, man. i would've crashed the fuck out

*sonic voice* hey Shadow, long time no see :D

the rats too?!

ok fine, that did get a chuckle out of me

there's the chopsticks, maybe you should store them under your beanie or smth

I mean, Meggy, you've always been unhinged in a silly way ahlkg;kl

THAT'S HOW WE DO IT 👏 LOCK IN

........the frame's missing. "wha?" the boarded-up door, see?

did you really think that I, Ink, would not know every detail about my mortal nemesis, the boarded-up door? tsk tsk, ofc not. Not while I'm a theorist. Ha, working on reference sheets has its use, mhm

AGAIN WITH THE NUMBER 4, I'M ON TO YOU, TEAM

sorry, Swag, no nukey time!

STOP THE PRESSES. LOOK AT 3 DOING A CELEBRATORY HOP:

you did? good.

also yeah, 4 I feel you bud :(

For sure.... *IGBP war flashbacks*

oh the cafe, my beloved. one day we'll see you soon.

uh oh.....

well um.... eggdog's playing with beeg outside, right chat? (for my sake, please nod) /j

Congrats to PlatinumLightJJ for your art being featured at the end credits! 🎉 love the lighting!

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Man, what an episode, huh? A lot has happened over the past few days, especially bc of the movie, but nothing like another silly episode for our meme show :)

From the looks of it, we actually got a new writer on the Team! Please, everyone, give a warm welcome to Evan Besser!

Lovely to have you here, friend! Not that you're gonna see this, but we look forward in seeing what you will create. While it is our silly little meme show, it has a special place in our hearts because of how much we've connected during its powerful, exciting, and emotional moments. Of friendship, (found) family. Loss and change.

As Boopkins said in IGBP, love wins. Love always wins, and it's been true every time. I offer the best of luck to you 🎉

As for the rest of you (aka chat), Evan (he/they btw) may be on Tumblr, but I expect yall to be respectful to them, as we do for the rest of the Team. Please do not send harassment or push them past uncomfortable boundaries. This is a pretty chill community, simply remember to be aware and kind, okay? coolio 👍

Now with the pleasantries out of the way, let's talk about the actual episode! Admittedly, it caught me off guard that both Bob and Meggy occupied some of the rooms in the Castle. Bob I get it, sure, he lives in the dump, but Meggy does have her home. Then again, it's not 4's Castle, it's the Crew's. 4 just happens to own the property and live there. In some past episodes, Melony has slept over at the Castle instead of her apartment, so it's not out of the question. Plus, I could never imagine 4 rejecting them a place to stay if they need it. Once again, their Castle. (However.... *stares DIRECTLY at the unfinished 2nd floor*)

If it wasn't obvious already, I LOVE cleaning, and I wouldn't mind sitting through Luigi's presentation frfr. (And the episode had to be trash, yea ik.) And about the scene with 3 & Mario in the kitchen, I actually wanted to bring in a bit of behind-the-scenes from editor Star:

"Got a little surprise for SMG4 fans again! The extended version of my 1st scene for today's vid: Mario Cleans The House!" (clip shown below) — Star

I always loved the behind-the-scenes stuff and sharing it with you guys :) It kinda goes hand-in-hand with the moment 3 wanting to go back to his clean cafe. speaking of, I MISS THE CAFE SO BAD.

Speaking of that scene, it was indeed a funny bit of 3's plan of shoving a bunch of spoiled food into Mario ADJL;'LJK. Not the best plan there, bud. (and yea, I'm allowed to say is as someone who's friend-shaped 😊↕️)

I do love the callback to the infestation episode for Bob, I appreciate that, idk how to describe it. And I'm not sure if the Team intended this or not, but I also loved the subtle callback to Western Spaghetti and Meggy's attachment to certain materialistic things bc of her past, I totally get it. And her eventually throwing the chopsticks to the bin, I actually didn't mind it.

Yall might come at me with pitchforks but it was kinda similar to how 4 was in the Mario PC episode. 4 was given a choice to accept a deal to save his past work, and he immediately declined. In some way, he learned from IGBP, not fully but it's a big step in the right direction. Same here with Meggy, she was very attached to those chopsticks bc, like she said, they've been through a lot. Like her beanie given by Wren. But she saw what it truly meant and decided to move on, dropping the sticks in there. Again, a step.

Then, there's that door. What a coincidence that as soon as 4 said "where are we supposed to put [the trash]", the door is right there in the background. Hmmmmmmmmmm, istg the Team had this door out to get me. TEASING US. *shakes vengeful fist* we shall meet again, my mortal nemesis….....

And now, probably the whole reason yall are here for, let's talk about 4:

It is absolutely insane that the Team did that! Not just ptsd anymore, they outright say it in the show, "hey, remember when this happened to you?" I still can't wrap my head around it. Regardless, I did feel SO bad for 4. ik how Swag is, gotta love him, but BUDDY, YOU CAN'T SAY THAT! :(

4's already suppressing his trauma and guilt from IGBP. He blames himself for the whole incident when he was possessed for most of it, he lost his home the first time. Ofc he's terrified of it happening again, of losing his home the second time. Honestly, If I were him, I would've pushed all the trash and everyone out the door, and then curled up in my bed for the rest of the day. With everything he went through, I wouldn't be able to handle it. "oh, I can just nuke it like I did in the most traumatic moment of or life, it's a lost cause" <- you would see me on the news. And ofc he wouldn't do what I would do, he's 4.

He somehow held back, still doing everything he could to save it. And y'know what would make it worse, if this was the first time 4 learned that the Crew was willing to nuke the Castle while 4 and the rescue trio were still in there. Not that I blame the Crew, it was possible for the red monster to spread across the kingdom and put everyone in danger. But it is a bit messed up that the Crew didn't warn them to get out of there before they did the act. idk what to think man..... regardless, that's a post for another day.

Back to the topic, 4 definitely belongs on my "saviors in blue" list. And ofc, adding it in as more proof to the horus eye/glitch segment of my theory:

His left eye is in the frame, the true side of him. Unlike in WOTFI 2024, it was with his right (his perfectionism side) when Puzzles brought back that ptsd the first time. One where he was scared of the incident happening again, the other's a reminder that he was the "cause" of it happening.

Now there has been some talk about about how his perfectionist side slipping through the cracks and seeming like he learned nothing out of IGBP. I suppose I should bring in my thoughts into this (yea, you can get your pitchfork ready 😔). I do love when 4's guilt and trauma come back in moments like these, and as co-ceo of the goop!4 theory, I can appreciate it with a "HELL YEAH".

The in-universe explanation I can provide of his perfectionism is that he's a content creator. All he wants is to entertain people and make them happy, ofc he wants to deliver the best of his work out there. Also, as a Meme Guardian, it's a part of him and his duties. But realistically, it's sometimes like that. As someone dealing with ptsd myself, those old habits/traits that caused the incident slip through in what we do. The least we want is for that incident to happen again, we'd go through extreme panic if we're remotely close to it, but we sometimes do said traits unintentionally.

For a person like 4, who has been suppressing all of it for a long time, it would be harder for him to recognize them immediately. And like in the Mario PC Virus episode, that was very paralleled to IGBP, 4 didn't have the same hesitation. Sure, he wasn't dealing with a life there, but he did learn. Up to now, like in the past arc, he prioritized his friends more than anything. Even if he was injured. It's understandable why he's dealing with his ptsd in an unhealthy way, even if it isn't right. I can see why people may have fixed feelings about it, but those are my thoughts.

The not in-universe explanation is the change of writers. Not that it should be an excuse but it's hard to pick up the pieces, as someone who works in production.

*sigh * yea, if you want to push me down the stairs, you can 😔 /lh

Well, that's all for me, folks! Sorry it took so long to get this out haha. I knew some of you were looking forward to my reaction, especially bc of 4, but it's sweet to know that you guys care what I think, so thanks for sticking by me 💙 It's good to see the silly episodes again after a month of theorizing. Anyway, I'll catch you on the next one and remember: numbers always go first!

.....the Team really wants me to finish the goop!4 theory website, don't they. /silly