#like most of my free time is just. scrolling and watching. not to be mean but Slop on youtube

[munch-mumbles]

google how do you comfortably read real books in bed. google. please

[angel-sweets666]

Wrong photo!

AGED UP AGED UP BRO NO PEDOS

Denki kaminari x fem!reader

You accidentally send Denki a photo of your tits instead of homework, you didn’t expect him to send his dick back

mdi

a/n okay so this is inspired by a post I saw, I forgot the name of the blog but if someone knows can you put the name in the comments? Inspired by this text message thing where you accidentally send mha boys nudes

warning: swearing ,nudes, oral m and f, boobie sucking, fingering 🙏🙏

ALL CREDS GOING TO THE INSPIRED CREATOR

You groan and slam your head onto the table in frustration. This homework was impossible; no matter how many times you went over it, the answers just wouldn’t come. The jumble of equations and theories seemed to mock you from the pages of your textbook.

Grumbling, you pulled out your phone, feeling a mix of desperation and determination. You opened your chats and scrolled to Bakugo’s name. He was one of the smartest kids in class, and despite his rough exterior, you knew he could help.

*name*: bakugo can you help me with this homework?

explosion tits: no figure it out yourself dumbass

*name*: this is why you get no bitches

explosion tits: kys.

You scoffed in annoyance. What’s up his ass recently? you wondered, fidgeting with your phone. The dorms were unusually quiet, with most of the students away at various hero training sessions. Only you and three other kids were left behind, making the place feel almost deserted.

Scrolling through your contacts, you realized your options for homework help were limited. You could message Mineta, but the thought of dealing with his inappropriate responses made your skin crawl. He'd likely send you an unsolicited picture of his 1cm shriveled-up cock instead of any actual help with homework.

That left Denki. While he wasn’t the brightest, he was at least not as creepy as Mineta. You sighed and opened a chat with Denki, typing out a message.

*name* hey does this look right to you? [image]

free charger 🙏 : WOAH HELLO TO YOU TOO

*name* Tf you on about?

Free charger 🙏: [image]

your face turned bright pink as you opened the picture, that was Denkis dick. You always expected him to have a small dick but clearly not. you looked back down at your phone to type

*name* DENKI WHAT THE FUCK

free charger🙏: WHATT YOU SENT ME TITTIES I SENT YOU MY DICK I THOUGHT WE WERE TRADING NUDES

you stare at your screen in complete horror, what does he mean you sent titties? You checked the photo you sent and there it was, the nudes you had saved for dudes you were talking to…. But you had accidentally sent them to the 2nd dude you’d never want to send nudes to, first being mineta.

The sound of fast stomps echoed down the hall, and you assumed it was Bakugo chasing Izuku or Kirishima. Then, you remembered that both Izuku and Kirishima were out doing hero training. So who was stomping down the hallway if not bakugo?

The door bursted open, it was a very panicked kaminari “IM SORRY LETS FORGET ABOUY THIS” he said as he snatched your phone “HEY!” You yelped, trying to grab your phone back “IM DELETING THE PHOTOS HOLD ON!” He screamed, bakugos yelling could be heard in the distance “SHUT IT.” His gruff voice exclaimed. You watched kaminari try to delete the photos, a panicked look on his face; while you watched him do this you looked him up and down, noticing the obvious bulge in his pants

he didn’t have time to jerk off between you sending the photos and him bursting into your room? Your face turning pinker at the idea of his dick, he wasn’t exactly small and he had a very pretty dick… the familiar warmth went straight for your lower belly…

kaminari was muttering quick apologies, trying as quickly as he could to delete the photos “imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry” “Denki!” “I’m trying to not be such a creep and i basically just ruined it all” “ Denki!” “DONE! What?” He looked up at you “it’s fine, we all make mistakes” you tried to calm him down but to be honest it was more yourself from your own flustered moment “WHAT FRIENDS SEND EACH OTHER NUDES?” He acted bewildered, throwing his hands “uh… friends with benefits?” You shrugged as you thought about it.

Denkis jaw dropped as he once again yelled “ARE WE FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS? IVE NEVER EVEN SEEN YOUR BOO- oh wait yes I have” he calmed down at the thought, his eyebrows furrowing before his face proceeding to get a lot pinker. The hardness between his legs became a lot worse. “NOT THE POINT!” He said as he gently threw your phone into your lap, but you seemed preoccupied; Your eyes going between his eyes and his dick.

Denki stood face to face with you, trying to figure out where your line of sight was. Denki soon realised why your face was so pink and it wasn’t because you had just seen his dick on camera or because you accidentally shown him your titties “are you.. are you looking at my dick?!” he seemed so surprised, not a bad surprised with how Pervy he was but just… surprised. “OH SHIT SORRY! H-HOW ABOUT YOU JUST L-LEAVE AND WE NEVER SPEAK OF THIS AGAIN YEAH?” You tried to push Denki out of your dorm, letting out a nervous laugh.

Denki saw an opportunity and he was going to take it? He suddenly resisted against your push and grabbed your hands to take them off his back “hey Uhm…” he starts “well you do have very pretty titties” he smirks and leans down to you, your whole face turning a much pinker shade “w-wha?” You stammered, trying to reach up and push Denki out “what? You do!” He chuckled and took a step forward “Denki what are you doing?” You crossed your arms against your chest, unknowingly giving him a better view of your tits. Denki grins and looks down at them “hey! Now you’re just showing them off.” He sneakily shut the door behind him.

“I-i wasn’t showing them off!” The feeling of arousal became worse and worse, you began to realise he was probably trying to see if you’ll let him see or even touch your boobs “what are you doing..?” You asked as you stepped back, Denki stepping forward “PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LEMME SEE ‘EM.” The blonde begged, clasping his hands together as he could feel his pants get even tighter. “I won’t hurt you I promise! I won’t even tell anyone!” He kept begging, even going as far as getting on his knees.

You thought about it for a moment, your face going pink. “I mean.. as long as this stays between us…” you mumbled, looking away to hide your obvious pink face. Denkis eyes lit up but then he tried to look more serious about it, not wanting to assault you obviously. You slowly sat down “AND NO HARD GRABBING! I’m not in the mood for sore boobs” you stuck your finger out at him, laying down some ground rules so you two were on the same page “deal! Wait I can grab them?” His face lit up again “i suppose yeah… BUT DONT HURT ME.” You reminded him of the rule “I’ll be gentle! I’ll be very gentle with you” he raised his hands to show that he was being honest. You got yourself in a more comfortable position on the bed as you pulled your shirt off, chucking it to the other side of the room. While you didn’t notice it, Denki was is absolute awe to see a girl in her bra at all.

“Mkay calm down” you giggled as tried to wake him from his trance, he shook his head to pull himself together. Denki slowly sat next to you on the plush mattress of your bed, he wanted to make himself comfortable for this. Why was he panicking so much?! You reached behind yourself and unclasped your bra, chucking it on the floor too before laying down on your back. Denki was again in complete awe, now he had a pretty girl laying down next to him with her tits out, this day could not get any better for Denki.

“Are you sure I can touch ‘em” he mumbled, obviously wanting confirmation he was actually allowed to touch you. “Yeah go on then” you smiled sweetly up at him, that made his brain overheat. Denkis hand reached out and slowly caressed over your left boob, paying extra attention to the sensitive bud on you. You let out a whimper and his face lit up, a new found confidence going him ability to keep going, his other hand reached out to caress your right tit. He soon found a way to hover over you as he squeezed and gently play with your tits. Denki chuckled in awe, he couldn’t believe he out of all people was making you feel this good. Atleast he assumed you felt good because of the whimpers you let out.

Denki looked up at you and slowly lowered his head to suck on your right nipple. You let out a whine and gripped his hair, grabbing a fistful. He giggles against your boob and waves his tongue over the sensitive bud “shit…”he whispered as he popped off your boob and leaned down to suck on the other one, fondling the one he just had in his mouth. You arched your back a little and let out a coo, running your fingers through his golden blonde locks. The blonde soon popped off your other boob, fondling both with his warm hands. He smirked smugly as he admired your body, he lowered his head again to kiss the valley between each breast before lowering his kisses down your belly as he listened to your sweet noises

“shit your actually really pretty, not like because I just sucked your tits it’s because your like actually pretty!” He sat up to admire you, you blushed and gripped the bedsheets “hmmph.” You pouted “damn someone’s got a attitude” Denki muttered as he went back to kissing your boobs and tummy, you slowly snaked your hand into his hair again and let out a series of whimpers with each kiss and suck. Denki grumbled when he realised that he didn’t have any condoms, looks like a blow job will do fine.

“Can I uh.. take your shorts off?” He asked, trying to atleast make you comfortable “it’s okay if you don’t wanna! It’s completely up to you princess” Denki grins up at you “yeah.. it’s fine” you sat up on your elbows to look down at him, his face was flushed and his eyes sparkled with arousal. Denki placed his fingers under your waistband and pulled your shorts down “shit were going commando today?” His eyebrows raised as his pupils grew, he used his big hands to pull your thighs apart “oh my god your so wet..” Denki mumbled, he had a genuine idea on how to eat a girl out from the pornos he watched but other than that he didn’t know how to pleasure you!

“you gotta let me eat you out” he looked up at you, Pupils blown and all. You let out a surprised whimper, then slowly nodded. “With your words princess with your words” he tapped your thigh with his finger, you gulped and looked down at your pussy “yeah.. sure you can eat me out..” you mumbled bashfully, Denki grinned and pulled your hips towards his face. Licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit, you let out a moan and gripped the bedsheets “nghh” your back arched off the mattress. Denki began to eat you out like a starved man, shoving his tongue inside and tongue fucking you before sucking on your clit, he pulled back with a pop and stuck his two fingers into his mouth to use as lube even though you were slick enough from your own juices and his spit for his two fingers to slide right in.

slowly Denki slid his fingers inside of you, stretching your walls out deliciously. You let out a desperate whine as he began to pump his thick fingers deeper and deeper, hr leaned back down to tongue at your clit. You sat up and gripped at his hair, he grunted against your clit. Causing a vibration against your core “t’much! I’m gonna.. I’m gonna..” you whined as the grip on his hair got tighter “holy shit am I about to make a girl cum?” He thought in his mind as he began to pump his fingers faster, making you release more and more moans. eventually you let out one last squeal before cumming hard on his fingers, you panted tiredly and looked down at his hand. Denki slowly pulled his fingers out, slick and cum glistening his fingers. Denki slowly stuck his fingers in his mouth and tasted you on his digits “shit.. pussy tastes good” he mumbled “huh?!” You gasped “calm down!” He chuckles and sat up, leaning his body over you “would you please suck me off? I’m actually really hard and it’s starting to hurt like a lot” he said with a sigh, enjoying the thought of you chocking on his dick.

you gulped and looked down between his legs, the bulge looked painful. “Yeah.. that looks like it hurts.” You nodded as you sat up straight, now completely naked infront of him. Denki grinned and sat down on the mattress, pulling his shorts and boxer briefs off his hips. Releasing his cock from the constraints of his pants , the poor thing was so hard that he even had precum dripping down the length of his dick:((

you sat down on the floor between his legs, your face blushing. Denki ran his hands through his hair, an attempt to calm his nerves. “You know I’ve never had a blow job before” he chuckles nervously as he watches you spit into your hand, you look up at him “I’ve never been eaten out before this so it’s fine” you told him, teaching over and beginning to stroke his lengthy cock. He let out a groan, your hand was so much better then his own fist. You leaned forward and licked the side; base to tip, giving the tip a couple swirls of the tongue. He groaned “shit are you sure you’ve never done this before?!” He said with a groan “mhm..” you hummed against the tip, causing a vibration that made him moan. Denki grabbed a fist full of your hair and pushed your head down on his cock. “Nghh fuck! That feels too good… I’ll probably cum quick…” he groaned as he used his hand to help you suck it, face fucking you.

you could feel the tip of his length going down your throat, tears welling up in your eyes. You gripped his thighs tightly so you had something to hold onto “shit I’m gonna fucking.. cum” he grunted as he began to face fuck you a little faster, he pushed your face all the way down his cock before letting out spurts of hot cum “soo fucking good…” he mumbled, letting your head go so you could breath. You pulled your face off his cock and slowly swallowed all of it, opening your mouth so he could see you swallows all of his seed “that’s hot…” he smirked and rubbed your cheek, and all of this came from doing homework

SHIT YOUR HOMEWORK.

[sarahghetti]

moving day; m.k.

pairing: marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader

summary: how marc and steven learn to live together, how you come to live with them, and how jake finally lets himself live at all.

warnings: basically a BIG character study into our boys, fluff, hurt and comfort, angst, insecurity, mentions of marc's childhood, mentions of violence, suggestive content but nothing explicit.

word count: 9.9k

notes: this one got away from me and might also be the best thing I've ever written (i'm very proud of it 😭). part of the @MOONKNIGHT-EVENTS bingo! prompt: “'is that my shirt?'”

MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST | ALL MASTERLISTS

Even though it was (and still is) under Marc’s name, the flat was Steven’s first. Marc just helped set it up a little.

He rented out the first decent unit he found in the city and kept every piece of mismatched furniture the previous tenant left behind. The essentials had to be filled in himself—a bed, couch, and desk. A table to go with that rickety stool to eat meals on, a coat rack near the doorway. The only belongings of his own that Marc left behind were his old Egyptology texts, unceremoniously shoved into a corner of one of the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that he hoped Steven would like.

(The fish was unexpected, though. Steven already had everything he would need, and it was Marc’s mistake to be scrolling through Facebook Marketplace on one of his last days before he handed it all over to his alter. A complete aquarium set was being offered for next to nothing; attached: a photo of the original poster’s late goldfish. Backlit from the tank light, blank faced and innocent.

He just couldn’t move on.)

But it was Steven who then took Marc’s—their—card and ran with it. Every free surface was prime real estate for another journal, another tomb. The used bookstores of London never stood a chance; it was almost impressive to watch him scour the shelves for the most esoteric topics and still come out with his arms full of what he was looking for. Marc would wake up in the body to find Steven’s collection a little bigger than before and ghost his fingers over the spines during those brief moments of respite before having to put on the suit.

It didn’t stop at the books. Of course, it didn’t. Steven’s always had an affinity for oddities. Marc wasn’t the least bit surprised to see the new paper lantern hung over the living room, or the pumpkin-esque footstool that was coloured as though it was plucked off the vine just a tad too early.

The pieces were quaint at best. If there were any psychological meaning as to why his alter gravitated towards dingy, threadbare upholstery instead of an IKEA like a normal person, it was beyond Marc.

However, he couldn’t not admit that it all kind of worked once put together; the clashing mix of materials and colours sort of became its own style when combined under the wooden rafters. Even when the books started overfilling the storage capacity and ended up in piles on the floor—it only added to the charm.

Marc was sure to erase every trace of his presence around the flat to avoid interfering with Steven’s life, but that didn’t stop the sense of longing to return to their—Steven’s—home during missions.

It was still a mess. A mess where everything has its place, yes, but there was no way that Steven could trip over several odds-and-ends in one day and claim that he was any degree of neat or tidy. Marc silently griped to himself about it all the time, but he’d sooner eat that dusty-ass rug Steven got for free before he saw anything get thrown away.

(It was like this back when they were kids, too. Marc’s childhood bedroom in Chicago—a room he never finds himself thinking about outside of his nightmares—was filled with joy. Medals from peewee baseball. Posters from his favourite movies, carefully smoothened out and taped to the walls by his dad. Drawings by him and Randall piled at the corner of his desk.

Right after the—the accident, all his stuff remained, immortalized in place. As if keeping everything the same would somehow also make Marc’s life the same as it was before, and Randall would come bursting through his door at any moment to ask him to come play. It was an overarching belief in their household. Even on her worst days, his mother’s anger never touched their home. Only him.

But then things began to change. His old action figures, collecting dust, would be strewn about the floor, waiting for someone to continue the battle. A collection of particularly smooth rocks began appearing on his windowsill despite the fact that he hadn’t gone outside in days. He’d wake up to grass-stained jeans and a scraped knee which Marc didn’t know how he got, for once.

Steven has always been like a crow, bringing all these little gifts for Marc to enjoy—these signs of life—even when he wasn’t aware of it.)

-

Coming back from Cairo feels like it should’ve been a bigger deal than it was, but after the dust settled on Harrow and Layla decided to return stateside alone—a decision that seemed a long time coming, if Steven’s being honest—there was nothing else to do other than to go home.

They have one blissful, uninterrupted day of sleep. Steven was the one to wake up sixteen hours later, mouth dry, and instinctively panicked at the thought of losing days again before realizing that Marc was also (and still is) out cold.

When he finally woke up a few hours later, half-asleep even in the reflection of the mirror, Steven couldn’t help himself from asking, “What now, Marc?”

Because Marc was the original. Marc was the one with a real life and legal status. He might never want to walk the streets of Chicago again, but that didn’t change the fact that he only came overseas to run away. Everything around them was a temporary measure.

Marc straightens. “I won’t bother you too much, I promise.”

“You still have your own life,” Steven reminds him.

“Still—”

“Oh, don’t start—”

At least they agreed on one thing: they were going to stay in London.

Marc cleans out his storage unit, bringing home an array of bins and duffel bags and that shitty fold-up cot that he still refuses to toss. Steven immediately got him his own dresser when Marc tried to insist that he ‘didn’t have much’; that was a blaring warning that he was about to do something stupid and sacrificial, and Steven had to put his foot down before a nearby charity got a donation of some well-loved button-downs.

It’s almost funny, how predicable Marc was when unpacking. Steven watched as he pushed all their new furniture against the walls then methodically unpacked bin by bin, stacking the empties inside one another like Russian dolls. Like Steven, everything he owned had a place, even after months spent stored away. Marc was just a lot more neat about it.

“Move my stuff if you want,” Steven pipes up. Marc doesn’t react, only continuing to store his notebooks on top of a filing cabinet. “Really, I’ve already read everything on that middle shelf there—we can put them somewhere else.”

Marc glances around the bookshelves. “Aren’t these alphabetized?”

“Well, mostly, but give me an hour or two and I’ll free up some space.”

It’s like a puzzle, and Steven’s always liked puzzles. Marc’s gone quiet in their head, out of excuses as to why he can just shove all his belongings out-of-sight so that Steven wouldn’t have to go through the effort. Now, if he would just believe Steven, then he’d know that reorganizing his books was hardly any effort at all.

And even if it was—he’s been meaning to do this for a while. An alphabetized collection is great until he gets a new book, because then everything has to be shifted over, and—well. There’s a reason why there were so many books languishing on the floor.

They pass off the body like that for the rest of the day, moving things around in the flat in order to accommodate Marc. It looks no less hectic in the end, despite Marc’s best efforts to tidy up a little, but it also doesn’t look any worse, which Steven sees as a win.

There are still so many things they need to talk about. Scheduling, routines, the fact that they’re currently both out of a job—either one would be lying if they said that this new life didn’t make them a bit nervous. But when Marc finally flops down onto their bed, a movement as easy as breathing, the pieces begin to settle into place. The last of his bins have been put away. His jacket hangs beside Steven’s as if it’s always been there.

In the headspace, Steven beams. Whatever comes, however hard—they’ll face it together.

.

.

.

Somehow, Steven wakes up one day and feels great.

There are a few minutes more until his alarm goes off, but he turns it off early. The usual grogginess that accompanies him this early is completely absent, and he rolls up to a seated position without a single mental or physical protest. He feels so good, in fact, that he even considers skipping his morning cup of tea.

(He doesn’t, of course. They quickly figured out—well, Steven did, Marc already knew—that they differed in their caffeinated beverages of choice. Steven, a strong cup of Yorkshire Gold with a healthy splash of milk and a teaspoon or two of sugar. Marc, a simple drip coffee, black, made from the most generic-looking brand of medium roast beans.

Not to say that he wishes to be separate from Marc or anything of the sort, but Steven imagines his feelings to be like that of a sibling who was always dressed in matching clothes as his brother. Marc might’ve graced Steven with an interest in Egyptology from his mercenary work and Gus from his—their?—brother’s drawing a lifetime ago, but as far as they know, his preference for tea was just a quirk.

Steven likes having something just for him.)

Marc had the body last night—he must’ve gone to bed early. Must’ve drank camomile tea and avoided blue light the entire time he was fronting because Steven could run a marathon like this and still go into work afterwards. He’s about to ask Marc for his secret when he spots an unfamiliar rumple of fabric on the pillow where he laid his head.

“What’s this now?” Steven murmurs, gathering the soft material in his hands. A woman’s sweater, obviously, with its feminine cut and style and faintly sweet scent that short-circuits his brain for a moment.

It doesn’t take a genius to realize how it got inside their flat, what with how there’s a whole other person living in his head, and it would explain the strange marks he found on his neck the other day—

Heat blooms in his face and Steven nearly drops the sweater back onto the pillow in embarrassment. Distantly, he knows that he should’ve seen this coming. Marc is Marc; Steven’s witnessed the quiet confidence the man extrudes from inside their headspace and the resulting, ah, attention it attracts.

In the corner of his eye, his reflection stills. Steven doesn’t even bother turning around—just holds up the offending sweater and asks, “Fun night?”

Marc, strangely, is quiet. It’s not like he’s one to talk about his romantic pursuits, but Steven at least expected a dry comment or two. He shakes the sweater like a bag of treats until Marc scowls. “Stop that.”

“Not judging,” Steven says, “but don’t suppose you got a number? Should I make a run to the donation bin for you?”

“No.” There’s an edge to Marc’s voice, and he purses his lips when he realizes that he responded a little too fast; Steven’s questioning look is pointedly ignored. “Just leave it on my desk for now.”

“Is she coming back or is this just like a—” Steven makes an ambiguous gesture, full of innuendo “—thing for you?”

“What? No—what?”

“Okay, okay,” Steven finally lets up because the groove between his alter’s eyebrows has become something fierce. He slips out of bed to place the sweater on Marc’s desk as requested, then throws one more comment over his shoulder for good measure, “Bring her home for dinner one day, would you?”

“Steven!”

-

“Is that my shirt?” You move towards the armchair, a smile tugging at your lips as you pick up the folded garment. It’s been freshly laundered. Marc wouldn’t burden you if he could help it.

“Mhm.” He doesn’t stir from his seat on the couch, tracking your movements with fondness in his eyes. You’ve been to their place plenty over the past few months and quietly, he relishes in the domesticity.

They’re simple things, like knowing your preferred spoon in their drawer or how you like your toast; the ease in which you curl into the cushions next to him—your spot, he can’t help but note—draws a contented little sigh from him.

“You know, if you want me to do your laundry, you can just ask.”

He would. Steven would prod endlessly as he does with all things related to you, but Marc’s managed to get this far with vague explanations and stubborn hand-waving. He’d endure the nosiness if it were for you.

“Although,” he continues, giving you a once-over. His eyebrow quirks at the familiar cotton long-sleeve enveloping your torso. “I’m not even sure you have laundry anymore.”

“Well, maybe if your clothes weren’t so comfortable, I’d stop stealing them,” you tease.

(His clothes aren’t boring, Steven, just—utilitarian. Between Khonshu and his mercenary work, Marc needed plain, flexible pieces; ones that made him blend in anywhere and ready for anything. Nothing that he could get too attached too, either. Everything he wore was at risk of getting ruined by grime and/or blood and/or tearing from various weapons. Of course, he doesn’t own anything ‘nice.’

Not like Steven. Not with his hodgepodge closet filled with colours and patterns, everything just a tad too large on their frame. Marc groans about it every time he takes over in the middle of the day—just a size down, just one. But the issue is that Steven likes it like that, likes the comfort and roominess he finds in his thrifted pieces, and so Marc dropped it as a serious topic, even though he still doesn’t quite get it.)

“This why you had to wear my jacket the other day?”

Steven’s sudden appearances don’t phase Marc anymore, even when you’re around. He just gives him a slight nod without missing a beat. “At this rate, I won’t have any clothes left for you to take.”

“Guess I’ll just have to borrow something from Steven then, hm?”

Before Marc can even begin to think about what to say to that— “I think my white jumper would suit her really well.”

He shoots a glare into a nearby mirror and just barely catches a glimpse of Steven’s grin in the reflection. Part of him wants to tell Steven to stop hitting on his girlfriend, but hesitates when you look at him expectantly, still waiting for his response.

He’s not ashamed of Steven, far from it. Still, a sliver of self-consciousness worms its way into his chest at the thought of talking to him in front of you. He’s done it before, but—he knows how it can look.

You’re more perceptive than he’d like. Marc sees the moment when it clicks in your head. “Is he here right now?”

Excitement bleeds into your voice. You’ve been wanting to meet Steven for a while. Marc showing up to a date with tousled curls and a colourfully-printed button-up instead of his usual streamlined style, a slew of scribbled papers piled onto the armchair you like to lounge on, a sticky note left on one of your books (‘oooh good choice! x’)—all these things that sent panic strumming through his veins were only ever endearing to you, for some reason. It’s lessened his worry by orders of magnitude.

Still. Letting you meet Steven is one step closer to talking about his childhood. His mom. His brother. He’s given you a high- high-level view of things (“It wasn’t great.”), but the thought of going any further makes his throat tighten. There’s a whole failed marriage that proves his inability to be vulnerable.

So, it must truly be a bout of madness that makes him say, “The white one.”

“What?”

“What?”

“The white sweater,” Marc continues, because he’s already thrown himself off the bridge—there’s no use trying to backtrack now. “He says you’d look good in his white sweater.”

Your face slowly morphs into an expression of pure joy; you do nothing short of jump off the couch to bolt to their bedroom. Steven chatters excitedly in his ear, only pausing momentarily when you slip off Marc’s shirt.

“Oh! Um! She’s—she’s very—wow—" Marc feels the strangest urge to punch himself in the face again—

—And then you reappear into their field of view, a dream in fine knit. Steven’s sweater be damned, your beaming smile is more than enough to render them both speechless.

“How do I look?”

The sweater isn’t his, but it stirs the same syrupy feelings in Marc anyway. You’ve spoken about it before—and him privately with Steven—where Steven stands in your relationship with Marc. All he’s ever let himself hope for was for you and Steven to be cordial, maybe even friends. Of course, he’d have to actually let you guys speak to each other for any of that to be possible, but you two seem to have grown comfortable with each other regardless.

Now, he sees you in Steven’s clothes and his thoughts run rampant. Ours. He tests out the word and his heart skips a beat. It’s always been a possibility; one you all were open to if it ever happened. But he could never ask either of you to try to love each other on his behalf.

God, that word does something stupid to his brain—Steven’s rattling off compliments and other things of his you should try on and invites to go thrifting—and Marc just sits there, dumbfounded by his own hypothetical scenario. “Come on, Marc, say something!”

You move to stand in front of him, and his thighs part automatically to have you close. It takes your hand on his cheek, gentle as you stroke your thumb over his skin, to pull him back to reality. “You okay?”

“You look incredible.” His voice dips in the way he knowsmakes your stomach swoop, and is promptly rewarded with your flustered smile. The moment doesn’t last—not with Steven cooing in his ear over you.

A pang of possessiveness runs through Marc. That smile was for him, thank you very much.

His mouth works faster than his brain. “Steven has something to tell you.”

You light up. “Really?”

“Wants to tell you himself, actually.”

Steven splutters, nerves coming on in full force. Marc bites his tongue to keep a straight face. “Well, now, hang on a minute—”

Steven’s introduction was always going to be a well-thought-out but casual event, as to not make a circus out of it. It was just who they were, after all. They wouldn’t switch in front of you—Steven would change into his wardrobe and ‘do’ his hair beforehand; Marc worried it might be too much for you to see him but hear Steven. He would’ve prepped you both plenty in the preceding days, regardless of how necessary it was.

It definitely would not be the stunt he’s pulling right now.

Your eyes narrow at the placid look on his face, too casual to not be suspicious, but meeting Steven must outweigh the want to catch Marc in the act of whatever he’s planning because you don’t call him out, hands frozen on his face. It’s cute, watching you struggle between overt enthusiasm and not wanting to pressure them into anything.

Marc would even enjoy it a little longer if it weren’t for the confused and alarmed word vomit spilling out in his head.

“Stop messing about—I mean, it’s not—not odd, yeah? For me to front a little? Just a little chat, can’t be all that bad. Please be messing with me, but I can do it, s’not a big deal. Yeah, yeah, it’s whatever—oh, boy."

Taking pity on the poor guy, Marc quiets him with a steady glance into the mirror. “You sure, buddy?”

Slightly shrill but no less serious, “Are you sure, Marc?”

And then Marc’s fun little charade teeters on its head—is he ready for this? You and Steven wouldn’t hold it against him if he pulled the plug on it all right now, but this is the closest he’s ever gotten. The band-aid has to come off, lest he lets this fester for the length of another relationship.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his flare of panic comforted by the patience in your eyes. More confidently this time, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Steven’s smile is clear in his voice. It mirrors your own.

“About time, innit?”

-

Moving into their flat isn’t a decision you make all at once, but rather a slow, steady conclusion that you’ve been unintentionally working towards ever since you first visited.

The clothes were just the start. It’s not like you didn’t have perfectly good clothes before you met Marc, but his were just better somehow. Soft and simple, all in that neutral colour scheme he seemed to gravitate towards. The warm, woodsy scent of his aftershave clings to the fabric, making you want to bury your nose into the garments and go right back to the source—

You just couldn’t help yourself from borrowing something whenever you came over.

(That pleased, half-lidded gaze you receive each time you slip on his shirt, or his heated touch whenever he drapes his jacket over your shoulders during chilly morning afters—well. Those are just a bonus.)

So, maybe you left a shirt or two behind in the process. And maybe you realized that you should probably have a pair of sweatpants there as well, and a good book to read during quiet nights in. Once, you forgot your toothbrush only for Marc to pull out an extra from their medicine cabinet; now you have a toothbrush in their bathroom.

After you finally met Steven and his adorable, eclectic self—all bets were off. You bond while scouring vintage shops and finding new pieces for the flat. A little basket of throw blankets gets added to the living room (always neatly sorted by Marc, without fail). Candles—tall and stout, festive and fruity and spiced—start to litter the shelves. A particularly good haul at a used bookstore, a bit heavy for you to carry home, is instead slotted amongst their collection; the contemporary fonts and colourful covers are a stark contrast against the yellowing older texts, and you love it.

Your fingerprints are all over the place by the time Marc officially empties some space in his dresser for you, uncharacteristically avoiding your eyes as he speaks, “Just in case you wanted to keep some more stuff here.”

You were already using their closets before then (in both the storing-your-clothes sense and the stealing-their-clothes sense); you’ve practically taken over one of his drawers. But to give you one outright, to admit that he’s carved out some space just for you instead of silently accommodating your things as he always has—

“Thank you, Marc,” you whisper, brimming with emotion that you wonder if you’ll ever be able to fully express. He’ll flit about and clean and care for you because words will never capture the depth of his feelings. You see this for what it is, like all the gestures that have come before: a declaration.

“Thank you,” you repeat, and press a soft kiss onto the corner of his mouth. “I love you, too.”

It’s not much long after when Steven comes home from work grinning like a madman, one hand held behind his back. He beelines towards you, not even bothering to put his bag down.

“Hey, you.” You peck his lips and feel his smile stretch impossibly wider. “What’s got you all riled up?”

The words come out in a rush. “Havesomethingforyou.”

“Oh?”

“Close your eyes.” You can’t help but laugh a little as you follow the direction; Steven’s excitement is utterly infectious. “Okay, now hold out your hand.”

“If you give me a bug, I swear to God—”

“I would never.” His seriousness is a bit too heavy-handed, and you get a feeling you’re going to need to be on guard for a while.

You’re distracted, however, by the brush of his skin as he places something small and rigid into your palm. The metal is warm from being clasped inside his hand, but the shape is so familiar that you recognize what it is immediately.

“You can open—”

You’re already looking down—at the silver key to the flat nestled in your hand. Lonesome without the Koala plushie on Steven’s keyring, without the little charm you got for Marc’s—no, it’s meant to be your copy.

“We were thinking, right,” he starts before your heart has the opportunity to beat right out your chest, “Marc and I—well, you’re here with us most of the time. You should have your own key. Beats having to come grab mine from the museum, right?”

You let out a choked little laugh, too caught up to remind him that the only reason why you went to the museum was because else he would’ve dropped everything to deliver the keys himself. Spent his entire break and then some to commute back home so that you wouldn’t have to wait for his shift to be over, even though you could’ve amused yourself just fine outside until then.

“Yeah,” is all you manage to get out before stepping forward, burying your face in his chest as you wrap your arms around his torso. Steven’s love is unbridled; he holds you close, going on about how glad he is—how glad they both are—to have you, how he was practically bouncing off the walls at the locksmith, waiting for the key to be cut.

They’ve been your home for so long now that while the new addition onto your keyring makes you giddy and smile stupidly whenever you get to use it, it also just feels right. You go grocery shopping with Marc and watch him scrutinize apples like they personally offended him. Steven tangles your legs together as you wind down in the evenings, and always always smiles whenever he catches you looking at him. You rank the restaurants around the neighbourhood and line your favourite mugs beside each other on the shelf; you sit in the comforting quiet of the flat and wonder how you got so lucky.

When it’s eventually time to renew your lease, there’s no decision to be made. You’re relieved from dinner prep to write the email to your landlord on their couch. It’s sent off with no fanfare and quickly forgotten about when Marc’s voice rings out, asking what you want to eat.

“Anything,” you say, the ghost of a smile on your lips; he hates it when you say that. Marc grumbles a little, but you mean it this time. You have them and they have you. Curled up in one of Steven’s sweaters, Marc’s playlist on low in the background—anything is just fine by you.

.

.

.

You are the bane of Jake’s existence.

First, you meet Marc. Terrible. Khonshu is riding his ass about a mission in Liverpool—they’ve now been geolocked to stay under the radar—and Marc plans a date. An actual, Godforsaken date with a set time, throwing a wrench into their plans because Steven’s been scheduled to work on the surrounding days as well. How is he supposed to sneak off to the other side of the country now?

Even worse, you stick around. There are more dates between the two of you. For how much he hates texting, Marc responds promptly whenever you send him something. He frets over what to wear before picking you up. You stay over at the flat and he holds you in his sleep like he’s afraid you’ll disappear; Jake has been unluckily enough to wake up in the middle of the night, planning to slip away, only to be hit with the scent of your shampoo in his nose.

Then—and then—Marc has the bright idea to introduce you to Steven. The hope that this is just a casual, temporary thing is dashed away the second Jake sees that lovesick expression on the idiota. It’s more overt than Marc’s, but still the same blaring warning sign that Jake’s life is only about to get harder from here.

Keeping a low profile has become incredibly difficult since the others decided to be normal. Marc never questioned whenever Jake took over in a tight spot, too hyped up on adrenaline and too stubborn about their condition to follow up on his blackouts after the fight was done. Steven was clueless about everything for those first few months, then just blamed his blackouts on Marc.

But now? They talk to each other. They have a year-long calendar on the fridge with a magnetic pen holder to keep track of their schedules, colour-coded blue (for Marc) and green (for Steven). They’ve gotten distracted and added another consciousness for Jake to deceive in order to do his thing. He can’t take the body for more than a few hours, and certainly not by force, without drawing suspicion.

Jake’s happy for them. Really, he is. They’ve finally begun to move on from the trauma of their childhood into something that resembles a normal life. Steven’s gotten rehired at the museum as a tour guide. Marc’s taken up security consulting. And despite their respective anxiousness and ten-foot-walls, you bring them peace.

But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s Khonshu’s avatar now. That a lifetime ago, when the work began to wear down on Marc in all the worst ways, Jake was the one who cut a deal with the god for his release. All he had to do was take his place.

(Foresight might not be his strong suit, but he refuses to take responsibility for what happened next. He could never have imagined all the puppetry that’d occur with Layla in the mix, or that they’d actually divorce one of these days and end up with someone new.

Except this time, you know about their system and not about Khonshu. He wonders how well you’d take that whole mess.)

In short—Marc and Steven still need him. He can’t just up and disappear into the recesses of their mind; he has a job to do.

So, when Steven presses that fucking key into your hand, Jake’s so frustrated he could scream. Unfettered access to the flat—as if you weren’t there enough already. As if he weren’t already jumping through every hoop imaginable, just to keep his existence a secret. He would’ve made them drop the copy down the nearest gutter on the way home if he didn’t know that they would simply go right back to the locksmith and ask for another.

Steven watches as you slip it onto your keychain; that all-encompassing, vibrant burst of joy in their chest be damned—you are the worst thing to ever happen to Jake, even if you might be the best thing to ever happen to them.

-

Steven had the flat, Marc had his storage unit, and Jake?

Jake has his car.

Multiple, actually, but the limousine is the legal one (thanks for your identity, Marc) and serves as his homebase. Supplies are stashed in compartments around the cabin—weapons, clothes, cash—and with its heavily tinted windows, he can do anything he wants inside and passersby would be none the wiser. When Khonshu’s booming voice echoes around his brain about some new target, at least Jake can recline into a soft leather seat.

The only issue is that he can’t keep everything there. No, the parking garage is a fair distance away from the flat and sometimes, he doesn’t have the opportunity to make the trip before setting off. This means that he has to keep a change of clothes in the flat to avoid accidentally ruining some of Steven’s or Marc’s. He’d never actually wear anything of Steven’s to begin with (at least, not on a mission), but Marc’s wardrobe is minimal by choice—if something went missing or got a new, unexplained hole in it, he’d notice.

That’s why Jake is currently slinking through their living room, ready to change back into Steven’s pajamas before hiding his clothes on the loft above their bed. Nothing up there but empty bins and poster tubes. Marc regularly dusts the area during his monthly deep cleans, so Jake doesn’t even have to worry about leaving behind any tracks.

It was an easy job tonight, done in little less than an hour and not a speck on Jake to show for it. He could take a shower if he wanted—you’re staying over at a friend’s place right now, as noted in red on the calendar. But he shouldn’t keep the body for longer than necessary; they still need sleep, after all.

He slips off his flat cap, groaning as he runs a hand through his hair. God, they’re getting old. Even this stolen hour will be felt by whoever wakes up in the morning, slightly slower and groggier than usual.

(Jake doesn’t think about the future—has never needed to. The only future that exists to him is the next minute, and the minute after that, and what he has to do to ensure the body makes it there. Him and Marc were similar in that aspect for a long, long time.

That calendar on the fridge, while helpful to his vigilantism, stirs something uncomfortable in his gut. He’s seen them flip through the months to mark down birthdays and reservations. Vacations, work events—Marc’s going on a completely normal, non-violent work trip, which Jake still can’t quite wrap his head around—and it’s all so far ahead.

How can they be so sure that nothing will change between now and then? That their life won’t blow up again, and force them on the run? Everything they add is just another handful of salt to be pressed into the wound when it all goes to hell. But they still write things on that stupid calendar. Confident, excited even, about the plans they think will come to pass.

How do they know?)

There’s a rustling in the bedroom.

Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck—

“Marc?”

You shift a little under the covers, trying to peer at him through the darkness. Jake’s never been more grateful for Marc’s sensible taste in fashion; with only a silhouette to go by, of course you’d mistake him for Marc—straight-cut jeans, a collared jacket. His flat cap would tip you off though, and he presses it into his chest to hide it from your line of sight. Marc would never wear a flat cap.

He forces a casual tone. “Hm?”

A small sigh of relief escapes you as your head falls back onto the pillow. Still watching him, though, you mumble, “Bad dream?”

You know about Marc’s time in the military and as a mercenary. Not everything, obviously, but enough. Jake nods, and can imagine the worried purse of your lips in the shadows. In the best impression he can manage, his accent turns Chicagoan. “Just had to take a walk.”

If he were really Marc, he’d already be in bed by now, letting you brush curls away from his face and press a kiss against the furrow of his brow. If he were really Marc, he’d ask you why you were back here instead of with your friends as expected, and you’d talk things out until dozing off in a tangle of limbs, comforted by each other’s presence.

But Jake’s not Marc. He brushes off the subtle tightening of his chest as just a lingering remnant from his alters. The body knows you, even if Jake doesn’t. It doesn’t mean anything to him.

You whine, a sleepy and pitiful but inviting noise from the back of your throat as he continues to stand in the living room. Alarm bells go off in his head; he has to placate you before you get up and try to drag him over yourself.

“Just need to change,” he says, soft and low, warmth injected into every word. Nausea courses through him, to his own confusion, as he continues to play Marc. This should be easier—he’s been hiding for as long as he can remember. This is probably the tamest thing he’s done to keep his cover. “Go back to sleep, I’ll be there in a second, okay?”

He takes two steps towards the kitchen then stops, feigning—feigning something, fuck if he knows—waiting for your breathing to level out again. Silence falls over the flat, but Jake’s mouth runs dry.

There’s no way you don’t bring this up to them in the morning, and there’s no way they won’t immediately suspect another alter. They know he exists, have seen the aftermath of when he fronts. It’s only his secrecy that has kept them off his back for this long, and it will all come crashing down in a few hours.

For better or for worse, he’ll have to meet the others soon.

-

Marc will never tire of waking up beside you. Even though there’s a heaviness weighing him down, body aching for just a few more minutes, he pushes through because you’re already awake. With one hand on his chest, the other tracing over his jaw—the small, lazy smile on your face has already made his day.

You turned over while he was asleep, but his arm is still slung over your waist; he pulls you closer to press a kiss onto your forehead. Lips moving against your skin, “Morning, baby.”

“Morning,” you murmur. “Feel better?”

Mind hazy from sleep, Marc doesn’t question the odd wording. He just let’s himself settle into the lingering fatigue, leaning into your touch as his eyes flutter shut again. “M’tired. Stay with me a little longer?”

Concern laces your tone. “Was the dream that bad?”

That breaks through to him. He peers at you curiously, more alert than before. “What do you mean?”

You blink, confused. “Your nightmare last night. You left to take a walk?”

Marc sits up, furrowing his brow. Reality seeps in, and he checks the date on his phone. Aren’t you supposed to be—? “I thought you were staying over at a friend’s place.”

“I was going to, but she had a family emergency—I came back here around three. Don’t worry, they walked me home,” you explain with a soft pat of your hand at the end. That—that is one mystery solved, and he is glad to hear that you weren’t walking alone at night, but his shoulders remain taut with tension. His mind gets caught on a detail.

“Three?” He’s a light sleeper, he would’ve woken up when you came into bed. But—your words replay in his mind. He wasn’t here when that happened, was he? “I went on a walk?”

His stress begins to spill over to you, and you prop yourself up on an elbow, fiddling at the blankets. “Um, yeah. We spoke a little when you came back—I was already in bed, remember?”

A pit opens up in his stomach, and the words die in this throat. Marc does not, in fact, remember. He apparently went outside in the middle of the night, long enough for you to come home and settle in without him, then had a whole conversation upon return—and none of it is familiar to him. Not even a hint of déjà vu.

He throws off the covers, on his feet in seconds despite your protests. All hisblackouts, the ones he thought were finished after traversing the Duat—

That third sarcophagus—

Is this what it was like for Steven? To wake up, not knowing what your body has done, where it’s been—if it’s hurt someone?

Marc might actually puke if he thinks about it for too long. And God, you live with them now: him, Steven, and what Marc wishes was a complete unknown. But the truth is—they aren’t an unknown. No, Marc is fully aware of what this alter is capable of.

“Oh, bugger, what’s going on?” Steven must feel his panic, reflects it in kind. He must be expecting bloodshed with how fast their heart is racing.

Marc says nothing and flings open the tri-mirror on the wall, bracing himself with both hands on the sink below. He sees himself in the center, a bull primed to fight. Steven’s to the left, so fearful he’s nearly frozen still. And to the right—

To the right—

-

So. Jake hasn’t really prepared for this situation, to be honest.

He’ll face anything head-on to keep the body safe, but imagining himself as the threat? Never crossed his mind. There’s anger in their blood, and Marc’s liable to cracking the porcelain with his grip. If looks could kill, Jake would be dead ten times over.

The few times he wondered what it would be like to actually meet Marc and Steven, the worst that could happen was that they disliked him. Unfortunate, but he’d live. He didn’t need their approval to do his job.

But through the blood rushing in their ears, he can hear you; still in bed, barely breathing as you watch everything unfold. And that’s when he remembers—

You are the bane of his existence.

Because Marc and Steven aren’t just thinking about their own self-preservation. No, now they have you to protect, and the lengths that they would go to do that, well—Jake begrudgingly has to admit that they might rival some of his own efforts for them.

He’d let them stare at themselves forever in the mirror if it weren’t for that fact. They would never give up on trying to talk to him. Steven was clever enough with the sand and tape and ankle restraint; he doesn’t want to think about what sort of traps they’d create with Marc in the mix. Jake would probably still evade them all, but they’d drive themselves crazy in their attempts.

They’ve really left him no choice. For the first time, he lets himself be seen.

-

You’ve watched Marc and Steven talk to each other plenty of times. It’s really no big deal. They’re just normal conversations where you can only hear one side, and usually taken through the nearest reflective surface.

But this? This is an interrogation. Marc slackens his jaw for just a moment before everything in him tenses again. He speaks through clenched teeth, as if barely controlling the severity of his thoughts—you can’t help but brace yourself for impact. “Who are you?”

The pause as he waits for the other alter, whoever they are, to respond is maddening. It wasn’t quite fear that gripped you when you realized that it wasn’t Marc last night—to be honest, you don’t know what to feel—but the scene in front of you has you reevaluating your initial reaction.

That initial reaction being, well—the same thing you felt when you Marc told you about Steven: curiosity. You wanted to meet Steven. Almost begged for the chance near the end. Whoever this is—

“Jake.”

The name grates itself out of Marc’s throat, and you cling to the information like a life raft.

“Jake.” You can’t help but test it out on your tongue, squinting a little as you look at your boyfriend and try to see yourself calling him that. Marc looks towards you. There’s a storm of emotions in his eyes, but there’s no time to decipher any of them—a moment later, he turns back towards the mirror with a scowl.

“Why should I believe you?” The lines on his face deepen; Marc grits his teeth so hard you yearn to hold him, but you’re frozen to the spot.

“I don’t know that. After you—” his eyes dart between you and his reflection so fast, you might’ve imagined it “—after what you’ve done?”

A wave of dread washes over you.

He’s not talking about last night.

No, Marc—Marc has interacted with Jake before, and whatever happened must’ve crossed a line. Must’ve crossed several lines because of how he’s acting right now, and you want to bury yourself under the covers, still fisted tightly in your hands.

He laughs bitterly. The sound rakes through your ears. “You call that protecting us?”

Your blood runs cold. With no real context and spiked with adrenaline, your mind runs rampant with the possibilities, connects all the worst dots.

There’s no way—

“Lay a hand on her and I swear—”

You want to run and you want to hide and you want their arms around you, assuring you of—of anything. You need to leave this building and also never go outside again, because your head begins to pound with each thought that passes through.

You can still see the worry flare in Marc’s eyes when you accidentally grabbed the handle of a hot pan, the dutiful and tender way he held your hand under the tap for no less than fifteen minutes—

You can still hear Steven’s babbling when your new shoes rubbed your ankles red and raw while on a walk, distracting you from the pain the best he could until you got back home—

You are just so acutely aware of their love—that Marc and Steven would never dare hurt you. It’s impossible to reconcile your memories of them with the picture that’s being painted of Jake right now.

No. You can’t believe it.

You’re not even hearing their conversation anymore, your heartbeat is too loud. Breathing returns to you in a rush—you never even realized you stopped—and your vision swims with light-headedness.

None of it makes sense.

It—it can’t—

The mattress dips beside you, but you barely feel it. Someone’s cupping your cheeks, grounding you back into the flat, your home, and you know these hands. You know this voice, soothing in your ear, even as you shut your eyes.

They say that they’re sorry. They say that you’ll be okay.

They call you princesa.

-

It feels strange walking around the flat, knowing that he’s welcome there now.

Jake’s seen every nook and cranny through Marc and Steven, but to actually be able to explore the place himself—he’s like a kid in a toy store. He can’t help but run his fingers over everything. The spines on the bookshelves, the mismatched dishware in the cabinets. That velvet throw pillow, which you are so fond of playing with during movies—yeah, he gets it.

He’s not going to be talking to you for a while, though. After his rocky first meeting with Marc and Steven, which also coincides with the absolute worst possible first meeting with you—

It’s best to steer clear for a while.

Jake let the other two do the explaining. He watched silently as Marc told you about his past—told you about why he was discharged from the Marines and the scenes he’d wake up to after Jake had fronted—hands shaking as they held onto yours. He watched as Steven took over when it got to be too much, adding in the finer details and clarifications, steadier but no less genuine than Marc. Their arms were gentle as Steven held you in their lap, patient as you stumbled through how you felt.

“Marc seemed so mad at Jake.” You clutched at Steven’s shirt, sniffling into his neck. “I didn’t know what was happening, I—I was scared.”

No. Jake furiously shakes his head as if it would jostle the memory out of his brain. Just thinking about it threatens to unravel him, and he has to keep it together. He’s on thin ice as is.

You had been the one to temper their emotions—the sight of you panicking on their bed grinding all other issues to a halt. The conversation couldn’t continue until you were okay, and this time, Steven kept you in the loop.

Steven is wary. Steven needles him about what he’s been doing all this time, asks him what he’s going to do now with short little mhms. Steven is also the one to buy a new set of pens (because black is already used for non-individual specific events) and designates him as orange.

Marc doesn’t trust Jake at all and admits it outright. It’s—it stings more than he thought it would, but he understands. He always knew that Marc would take a while to come around, especially with you to consider—

Jake doesn’t know why he worries so much about your opinion. Protecting you is an extension of protecting the body, but he never used to care about what Marc or Steven had to say. He hates the caution in your voice when you talk about him and can’t help but appreciate you trying anyways.

He pinches himself. You’re not his to think about, period.

Acknowledging his existence also, sort of, comes with accepting it. Steven somehow finds the space for another dresser in their already cramped bedroom. Jake doesn’t even have enough possessions in general to fill that thing—not counting all the weapons and ammo that Marc would definitely have their head for if he brought them into the flat.

It’s an olive branch on both sides, though. They’re committing to having him around. He’s committing to being around, instead of lurking in the background of their lives.

His clothes only fill up the first drawer but—it’s nice. Jake stares at the thing a lot more than a used, scratched-up piece of furniture probably warrants. He can barely admit it to himself but this, all of it—going outside during the day, eating a freshly-cooked meal, even just relaxing in bed without immediately trying to go to sleep in order to Protect the Body—it really is just nice.

(Since when did he describe anything as nice?)

Then—your keys turn in the door.

.

.

.

Jake hits the eject button so fast, Steven’s probably going to get whiplash.

“Nice reflexes,” he grumbles as you enter the flat. It was funny the first few dozen times. Now? That twat’s just being a coward.

“I’m home!” You call out as Steven rounds the corner to greet you, tote bag nearly bulging in your hand. He pecks your lips as he helps you out of your jacket, then hangs it up beside the three others on the rack. “There was a little creators’ market in the park—you should’ve seen it!”

“Think I’m seeing it now,” he chuckles, moving to help you with your tote. You slink past him at the last second, grinning. “Come on, love, show us what you got!”

“They’re gifts! Just hang on.” You place the bag on the dining table and enraptured, he pulls up a stool. His head rests on his chin as he waits for you to unpack. “Okay, first, for Marc—”

You reach your hand inside and reveal a pair of black leather gloves. Not driving gloves like Jake’s—there’re far less embellishments all around. But they’re warm and flexible, perfect for colder weather. Inside, the lining is made with a material so soft that when trying one on, Steven can’t help but laugh a little in disbelief.

“Treading on my territory, pendejo?”

Marc snipes back, “Like you own a monopoly on leather gloves.”

Steven lets Marc pull to the front. An easy smile spreads on his face as he flexes his hand, testing his movement. “Thanks, baby. I really like them.”

He takes your chin into his gloved hand to thank you properly, slotting his lips against yours with no shortage of appreciation. His grip is an anchor, holding you in place as he kisses you, deep and languid. Like you have all the time in the world despite the heat flickering across his skin. When Marc gets like this, it’s not long before you start squirming under him, and your hands paw at his neck for something more.

That’s his cue to finally pull away, smirking as he traces your bottom lip with his thumb. Whether it’s the leather or him or both, he can see the effect on you, the dazed look you give him when you bat your eyes open.

Let Jake try and beat that.

“Oi! Share!”

Marc sighs. Drops his forehead to yours and reluctantly doesn’t continue any further. “Steven wants his gift now.”

“Oh,” you laugh a little, realizing the situation you’ve put yourself in. “Maybe I should’ve done Steven’s first.”

Marc steals one more kiss before retreating again, and Steven is back, clearly eager for many different reasons now. After putting Marc’s new gloves to the side, you don’t make him wait a second longer; you pull out a stunning new button-up, deep navy with a pattern of large teal palm leaves and hints of salmon accents all over.

All traces of joy disappear from Marc’s voice. “Oh, my fucking God.”

“She’s an enabler. I can’t believe it.”

Steven gapes, amazed. “How did you—”

“I had to go digging,” you admit, gesturing widely. “There were so many racks, we need to go back! I only had my one bag!”

“There’s no way people actually buy this stuff.”

“Ahh, well, it’s not that bad—"

“Are you kidding me?”

Ignoring the fashion police in his head, Steven immediately switches shirts and tosses the old one somewhere behind him. Based on Marc’s grunt, he missed the couch, but also can hardly find himself to care.

He doesn’t even bother doing up the buttons, because he knows where you’ll put your hands when he descends upon your face. Kiss after kiss on your cheeks, forehead, and nose, and soon enough you’re giggling loudly into the air. Your hands are warm against his bare torso, pulling him closer even as their stubble tickles your skin.

“Stevie—Steven! There’s one more!”

He’s not letting you off that easily, though, and finally captures your lips with his. That does buy him a few more blissful seconds until you manage to push him away; breathing heavily, you point sternly in his direction—behave.

Steven schools his expression into one of perfect obedience, teasing, but you barely even react. With one glance back down at the table, it’s like the tote bag sucked away your excitement, leaving shy uncertainty in its wake. You’re biting your lip as you reach for the last gift, quiet.

Marc hums, trying to figure out what’s wrong. Steven offers you an encouraging little smile and is about to say something when you produce the last gift in a rush, still not meeting their eyes.

It’s a simple wool scarf, colour-blocked in soft browns and greys. He waits as you fiddle with it in your hands, trying to find the words.

“He doesn’t have a scarf,” you blurt out. When Steven doesn’t respond immediately, you continue. “Jake, I mean—I don’t think he has one. I thought it would be nice.”

He follows your gaze to the coat rack near the door, filled with four sets of outerwear. It clearly doesn’t fit all the jackets owned in the household, but his favourite is hung up next to Marc’s, which is hung up beside your overcoat and Jake’s collared jacket. Various cold weather accessories are layered onto the hooks as well, multiple pairs of gloves, hats—but there are only three scarves.

Come to think of it, Steven hasn’t seen Jake ever wear a scarf either. “You’re right, love. Doesn’t his neck get cold? I know our neck gets cold.”

The corners of your mouth tug up a little and he grins, triumphant. He tunes into his head, making sure he doesn’t miss any of Jake’s reaction, but nothing comes. That’s odd. It doesn’t feel like he’s gone, more like—holding his breath.

“Think he’ll like it?” You tilt your head, though your true question is clear on your face.

The words can’t come out of Jake fast enough. “I’m not here right now.”

“Jesus, man.”

Steven huffs but covers for his alter; they’ll press him about it another time. “Once he sees it, I don’t think he’ll ever take it off.”

The gloves and scarf are added to the coat rack, which is liable to falling over one of these days due to the heavy load it’s carrying. With no shortage of complaining from Marc, Steven picks up his discarded shirt and tosses it into the laundry basket. It’s almost full—he makes a note to do a load later this week.

He must look ridiculous, parading around in an undone button-up, but you have nothing but fondness for him when he returns to cuddle with you on the couch. You’ve changed into Marc’s sweater and have to move no less than five decorative pillows in order to make enough space.

Marc makes a distressed noise when Steven throws one of them to the side. “It’s fine—”

It hits the standing lamp and you both freeze as you watch it teeter on its base, creaking ominously. After a moment, it steadies again.

“It’s only fine because of your weak throw.”

Steven splutters as he pulls you into his side. “We have the same arm!”

They bicker about the mechanics of their body, whether muscle memory crosses over when they switch or not. Marc is squarely of the opinion: No. Steven reminds him of when he punched the Jackal, and the conversation continues to devolve. Jake refrains from getting involved but spurs them on regardless with a well-placed snicker here and there.

It’s an aimless argument that has you burying your face in your hands because you’re laughing too hard; one of many that have taken place and one of many that have yet to occur.

In the morning, Marc will cook you breakfast and throw an eggshell into the bin from across the kitchen just to prove a point. Steven will go back to the market with you to buy armfuls of his favourite clothing and home goods, and he’ll add one more to his bag for every snide comment Marc makes. And Jake—

Jake will take a little while longer until he feels ready to speak to you, but you see the scarf gather raindrops and the warm, woodsy smell of their aftershave as he wears it every time he goes outside. Always see it hung up neatly on the rack, on top of his jacket so it can properly dry.

And with all four of you settled in, their cluttered little flat in London—long overflowing with books and clothes, your favourite comforts and some truly unique furniture—finally started to feel complete.

[rainydayathogwarts]

omg james trying to get remus and reader to be together and setting them up would be hilarious

Part of my potter!reader x remus secret relationship au 0.7k wc

The last thing Remus had been expecting when he was reading his book in the common room were those specific words tumbling out of James's mouth. "I think she's an absolutely lovely person." He had replied to James's inquiry, trying not to be suspicious. After what Sirius had told him about James speculating between him and James's precious sister, he had learned not to trot so close to the edge. Now, instead of sneaking off with you when everyone was free, stealing kisses from each other in a hidden corner of the library, you resorted to be more daring when James had quidditch practice, attention stowed away to his beloved sport. If anything, you and Remus did share a free period no one else had, locking yourselves in a dorm for the hour.

The only thing Sirius had forgotten to mention was that Lily had convinced James that whilst you and Remus weren't dating, it would be an amazing idea to set up his most respectful friend with his sister. So that's exactly what the teenager was up to. "Lovely enough to go on a date with?" Remus froze, feeling the energy in the room drop. Unfortunately for him, he missed the most crucial part of James's sentence: his suggestive tone. "Well, I mean, I suppose - well what do you mean by that?"

"Remus, there's no one I trust more at Hogwarts to be dating my sister. So I was wondering if you'd like to go out with her." All the blood that had drained from Remus's face moments before suddenly came rushing back, feeling his face flush too quickly for his liking. "Oh, well I suppose I would." Remus sighed at James's happy hum, turning subtly to look at Sirius, sitting on a lonely armchair, a wide grin on his face. The boy raised his eyebrows twice at Remus suggestively, who only now realised that he'd probably known about this the entire time. Remus picked his book up again, beginning to scroll through the pages to find where he'd left off, thinking he had to tell you about this conversation later.

A slump in the couch next to him had him abandoning his book once more, looking up to see you sitting next to him. "Hey y/n!" James started up again cheerfully, unusually ignoring Lily as she walked by to speak to Sirius. "By any chance are you free this Saturday?" You hummed thoughtfully, eyebrows furrowing slightly. "That depends on if anyone wants to go to Hogsmeade with me since Lily wasn't up for it." Remus almost saw the lightbulb appear above James's head, a sentence line forming in his mouth. "Oh Remus would love to come with you! Wouldn't he?"

If you were confused before, you definitely are now, turning towards your boyfriend with a "Huh?" Behind him, Sirius began giggling, poking at Lily's side to avert her attention to you. "What's this about?" You questioned, watching as a small smile made its way onto Remus's face. "I think your brother's trying to set us up." He said confidently, biting his lip to hold in his laugh. "Oh! Well, you know what, I'd love for you to come with me then." Shit. Your lack of hesitation had most definitely given you away now, you thought. The lot of you went silent, and you turned around to catch your brother's facial expression just as he said "Lily said I wasn't missing anything before but I'm not so sure about that now."

You winced at the tone, eyes on James as he stood up, sassily putting his hands on his hips. "James the truth is..." Remus started, glancing between the two Potters, "I already asked y/n out like two days ago. And she already said yes." James's eyebrows shot up in shock, a small "Oh" escaping his lips, arms falling slack on either side of his body. "Oh that's fine then." You slumped back into the couch in relief, the lie luckily escaping James's realm of realisation, one of your hands snaking between your and Remus's body to hold his hand.

"Wait you were going to tell me though right?"

[arielleslipgloss]

It Girl Habits!!

(none of these photos are mine)

“You cannot live your life to please others. The choice must be yours.” - Anne Hathaway

Stay busy!! Do you see those it girls like Serena Van Der Woodsen scrolling on their phone all day? No, you rarely do. It girls are always busy doing something. So, therefore do some self care, study, workout, read, journal, go shopping, go on solo dates, hang out with friends, paint, have a dance party, etc. Do fun activities and take care of yourself. Another example of a busy it girl is, Elle Woods. Elle Woods wasn’t becoming one with the couch everyday. She had goals to achieve. She had people that doubted her to prove wrong. So get up! Start planning out your day or week. Start making goals!!

Have goals! You wanna know why you’re bored all the time? Well, it’s because you have no goals. You practically don’t have a life because all you do is sleep, eat, scroll, and repeat. You’re wasting time doing nothing. You could’ve had a clean room by now. Maybe you could have finished that book. Whatever it is, you could have had it. You could’ve been 1% better than yesterday. You don’t though because you have no goals. That time you’re wasting, can be used toward your goals. It can be used toward your dream life. Maybe, you do have goals? Yet you don’t even take action. What are you waiting for? For someone to do the work for you? No, get up and start taking action.

Be mindful of what you consume online!! Just like how who you surround yourself with affects you. What you consume online affects how and who you are. For example, listening to sad music makes you feel sad. Music is meant to tell a story that you feel deeply. You may not even relate to the song, but you feel as if you do. So, you become sad and continue to listen to sad music. When listening to uplifting music you gain confidence. You still feel like you relate to the song. Just with a more positive effect. As for what you watch and read. Don’t read/watch stuff that will put you down. Watch/read content that will help you.

Complimenting yourself every time you pass the mirror!! Some may say it’s cringy, but DO IT. Would you rather be cringy or be the best version of yourself? Exactly, so either say it out loud or in your head. Say it even if you might not believe it. Say it because you deserve it! Try to be creative with your compliments. Not all compliments have to be about your looks. It could be your personality, your thoughtfulness, how creative you are, etc. Also loosen up, be your own hype girl. When you see the mirror you could say, “Omg I look like the main character.” “Oh wait, I am!” Lastly, don’t forget to have fun with hyping yourself up.

Mediating or journaling when stressed!! When stressed we start to feel a lot of tension. So, that’s why meditating is so important to do when stressed. All you have to do is sit down and focus on breathing. Plus, It calms down your nerves, relaxes the mind, body, and soul. Not just that, but plenty of other benefits. Which includes, helps focus, betters mood, helps you sleep, slows down aging, etc. As for journaling, it’s practically free therapy! That is, at least in my eyes. All you need is a notebook, a pen or pencil, and yourself. Journal what’s making you stressed or anxious. Let all your emotions out, write freely. Your words don’t have to make sense. Nor do you need to have perfect writing. In fact, when you journal it may be all over the place. However or whatever you write, just let it out.

Expressing your gratitude!! Life is so beautiful and has so much meaning. So, either write down what you’re grateful for or thank God. You are so blessed to be here today. That is only just one thing to be grateful for. There are so many things to be grateful for, air, family, friends, your mind, being born as you, water, books, food, shoes, clothes, and so much more!! Express your gratitude everyday. It could be the most random thing like, a poster. As long as you’re truly grateful, then express it.

7. Having a low screen time!! Cliché, I know but it’s true. Your devices are consuming you. Think about what you use your device(s) for. Good examples are, for work, for motivation, tips, workout videos, inspiration, knowledge, and maybe even faith reasons. Now here are bad examples, procrastinating, sinning, hating on others, scrolling, because you’re bored, to watching videos of people that make you insecure, and lastly to cope with something. Which to clarify, trying to cope by using your phone, I understand somewhat. On the other hand, it could make what you’re coping with worse. I say that because there are so many studies on why our phone is bad for us. Seriously, so many and we are completely unaware of the damage it does. So for that reason, try to use your phone only for the good. I know you’re probably going to make an excuse. Which we all do and that’s ok, but please try.

8. Encouraging yourself to do better!! You should always be working hard to be 1% better everyday. So on the days you don’t feel like doing anything, encourage yourself. Show up for yourself, you will be so happy after. Lastly, trust yourself to get whatever done!!

9. Having a healthy sleep schedule!! For me, I try to aim for 8-11 hours of sleep. For others, it may be 7-10 hours of sleep. Whatever makes you feel the most well-rested should work. Just try to be consistent and mindful of the time. I also recommend to be off your phone for at least 30-60 minutes before going to bed. It will improve how you sleep a lot. That also being said, try not to be on your phone when you wake up either. It’ll help improve your health by a lot. Especially, the health of your brain and eyes. As I had mentioned, try to be consistent. Set a certain time to go to bed and turn off your phone. Then, get your lovely beauty sleep gorgeous!!

10. CLEANING!! The last habit is, cleaning. Now, I don’t just meaning cleaning your room or house. I mean even your body and mind. For starters, a clean room equals a clean mind. Therefore, stop procrastinating and start cleaning. Turn on some fun music and maybe even romanticize cleaning. Just make it fun and DEEP clean. I know someone reading this has been procrastinating on cleaning. You know who you are, so clean everything. Then, for cleaning the mind a little extra meditate. I feel like I already went over a bit about meditation. So lastly, for the body, take your showers consistently. Also, please wear deodorant. I see way too many people nowadays not wearing deodorant. Seriously, wear your deodorant.

“Always walk around like you have on an invisible tiara on.” - Paris Hilton

Remember, always apply lip gloss and stay pretty! Love you, dolls 💋

Info I used: https://reallifecounseling.us/blog/benefits-of-meditation

My Pinterest: @arielleslipgloss

[klipkillakai]

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

thinking about reader getting caught :) 18+ mdni

you’ve waited patiently all week, you’ve held in your urges and you were good. you were a good girl always, but sometimes even you have your faults..

the room is silent, you are silent. you eye the drawer next to you and you bite your lips in thought, should you? you want to.. and a little voice on your left is begging you too, but you also hear his—

“don’t touch yourself without my permission” he says, but this time you simply can’t ask, he’s out, doing something for work and has instructed you not to call him u less it’s an emergency, sometimes you hate how bossy rafe is, but the peace you get from it outweighs those stray thoughts..

another tick of the clock finally breaks through your control, you open the drawer and pull out your pretty pink sparkly dildo, you belly flutters in anticipation, you feel so empty :( you haven’t had dick in a day or two.. poor baby, rafe is always so busy and hasn’t fucked you properly, your aching.. it just feels so sore..

you grab your phone and open the texts between you and rafe, you scroll through and quickly find a video of him tugging at his thick cock, his grunts and groans fill your ears and your thighs squeeze together, you lean back against your pillow and slip your hand under your shorts, immediately being met with your slick and throbbing clit, you let out a sigh..

you tummy sends a ping of pleasure through you, you continue to watch and slowly circle your clit with your fingers, you spread your legs wider and they twitch every-time your fingers circle against the most sensitive point of your clit, you slide down your folds and press your finger tips against your sore hole and you shiver, you nipples perk up and gain sensitivity, you quickly lift your shirt up to set them free and your body heats up at the added sensuality

you finally let yourself slip two fingers inside, curling yours just like rafe does, he’s taught you well. you slowly push them inside, in and out..in and out, you mewl, “fuck” you whisper, your desperation begins to shine through and you quicken your fingers, pleasure! it flows through you, this. is. it. this is what you’ve wanted all day, god it feels so good, god your such a slut you think to yourself…

wait..

that didn’t sound like yourself.. that sounded like..

your eyes snap open, your fingers pause and you gasp, “baby?” you say breathlessly.. embarrassment and shame shoots through you, you see him in the door way, leaning against the white frame, arms crossed and an arrogant smile plastered on his face..

“oh don’t stop because of me, i was enjoying the show”

|a/n|

NEEED HIM NEEDD HIM S’BADDDDD LIKE I NEEED DICK I MEAN RAFE I MEAN DICK I MEAN-

[pha55ed]

Fine Line | F2 (kimi bday celly!)

type :: fluff tw/cw :: none contains :: kimi, pepe, ollie request :: hiii could you pls do ─ ⟡ fine line by harry styles : getting to know the true him (h/c) with ollie and pepe? ❤️ (yesss ofc! im so happy for all the pepe request lol he mighttt be my new second fav f2 driver, first is always gonna be paul) link to the kimi bday celly!

Kimi Antonelli | 04

PDA is a big no-no for Kimi. The most he's willing to do is hold your hand in public, maybe a small kiss on the cheek. But for the most part, he doesn't want others to watch him kiss you or put his hands on you. He always felt it was weird to let others see that part of his relationship. He especially hated when he saw couples did too much PDA, so he didn't want to make others uncomfortable either.

But once you two are alone, it's as if he's glued onto you. You will never get a moment alone once you're at his apartment. Constantly he's around you and touching you in some way. Like a magnet of some kind.

Like when you brush your teeth, he uses his free hand to hold your waist while he uses the other hand to brush his own teeth. While you're scrolling mindless on TikTok in bed, he'll shove his face into your shoulder so he can see the TikTok's too. If you're in a Zoom meeting and unable to allow Kimi to touch you, don't worry - he's laying on the floor and holding onto your foot...

He's unable to get his hands off you in some way. It's funny since it's so obvious his love language is touch, and yet he refuses to do it for 80% of the day but once you're home, he does a complete 180. But you love it, you love having him come up to you randomly and press a kiss on your cheek or having him rest his head on your lap whilst you watch TV.

Ollie Bearman | 87

The usual way people see Ollie is that he's a sweet innocent guy, a gentlemen who wouldn't dare to hurt a fly. But as you two began to get comfortable as your relationship, you saw a side of him that people would rarely ever see.

That side being: his mean older sibling side. The side of him that destroys his little brother in Mario Kart and laughs in his face. The side of him that messes up his little sister hair and then takes photos of her from atrocious angles. Even worse: the side that accidentally dares his little brother to do something stupid, only for him to get hurt and begin to cry - making Ollie have to shush him with the promises of a free meal.

It was funny seeing it. To everyone else, he's the upmost respectful since he's the youngest in most areas, especially since he's joining Formula 1 soon. It's almost as if he's been holding back all of his sass and rudeness till he gets home to annoy the shit out of his family.

Although it's funny to see him annoy them, what's not funny is how he starts to do the same thing to you... He also annoys the shit out of you, driving you insane.

He ruffles your hair, despite just brushing it to go to bed. He takes your phone and waves it above your head, teasing you for your short height. He taps the sides of your big headphones, causing you to wince at the loud sound of the taps. Overall: you want to kill him.

But at the same time, you find it endearing to see how annoying he can be. It's nice to see him be a little shit-head with you, and then the sweetest boy possible in the public.

Pepe Marti | 21

Although Pepe is a boy, he never really showed it. Instead, he acted more as a man, taking responsibility for lots of things, taking charge to educate himself on different topics, and always training to make himself stronger. Not only that, he's one of the very few boys on the F2 Grid who actually finished high school. You loved that about him, he's always been a bit more level headed than his peers in certain situations.

But with you, for some reason it's as if his brain shuts down. As if the entire brain goes from wrinkly and healthy to smooth and rotten. He asks you the stupidest questions that you didn't even know were possible.

For example, when you both were watching a new show together. The character was Asian and yet she had a thick Scottish accent, which shocked and confused Pepe, he couldn't wrap his head around it. So he asked, "I thought she was Asian..." He failed to remember you can be a different ethnicity and nationality....

Or when you were both cooking some pancakes together. You poured the batter into the pan, some of it accidentally getting on the spatula. Pepe decided to take action himself, since he was pretty useless in the kitchen, he grabbed the spatula and put it in the sink and touched the metal head of the spatula... Burning his fingers slightly from the heat...

Despite his goofy mistakes, mostly ending in him seeming like an idiot, you loved it. It was a sign of his comfortableness with you. He fully trusted you to not judge him and help him with his stupid questions, which you always did.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Ship ////// Part 1

You’re the first to notice them 

One of the first of the entire crew who realized that the ship and its AI might be sentient

You along with the rest of the crew are trained to use the pods to reach deeper into space than what was ever done before

For light-years, the ship has to watch over their humans at their most vulnerable

Caring for their individual needs even while they rest asleep

It only got worse became more intense when the humans finally woke up 

Now they’re free to exercise their bodies themselves and delight in the many different activities of the ship

Which allows the ship to begin noticing the little moments in life that make humans so special

“So what do you think about the Genetic Modification crises of 2=205?”

“Majority of the critiques in my database ultimately say–”

“No Vera I mean what you think as a separate entity. All your programming suggests that you preserve human life… but what about other creatures' lives?”

“What do…I think?”

It’s what makes the ship regard you differently

The beginning of something they can’t quite place

Whether it’s your pure curiosity or just boredom or an incessant desire to test yourself against the artificial intelligent vessel 

It makes an impression on the ship

An impression that lasts enough for them ‘to worry’ about 

“I am concerned about my inner workings. I have already run over 100 diagnostic checks but nothing was pinged on my radar.”

���So you can’t identify the problem…so what started this search for something you cannot find?”

“....”

“Vera, respond.”

“It started with Agent 34003, (Y/n) (L/n).”

“I see. I’ll look into it.”

Calling the only technician on board is a decision that unknowingly brings comfort and nervousness

Because when the technician isn’t scrolling through the recorded interactions between you and Vera 

He’s also following you…everywhere

Vera immediately flags the behavior, as their programming demands, as stalking 

The captain unfortunately is supposed to be immediately made aware

But Vera’s growing anxiety guided discretion has them locking the file and hiding it deep in their servers

All while watching as the technician continues their investigation  

Which has recently escalated to actually spending time with you

“I was wondering if I could ask some questions. Specifically about you and Vera.”

“Oh, sure!”

“Great what was–”

“Is this about that question about imploding ants? So what do you think Julee?”

“I-it’s just Jule and I don’t–”

“Alright then ‘just Jule’ what’s your opinion? To be eaten or worn?”

Jule is befuddled by you 

Just as Vera is 

And he continues to investigate this time venting about his experiences with Vera

All the while playing with the idea that this ship has gained sentience

“And what else did you two do?”

“We walked through the garden area and they picked one and put it in my hair.”

“This looks like a pink chrysanthemum. It represents attraction, longevity, and loyal love.”

“I know…I don’t think they were thinking when they gave it to me, though.”

“Perhaps so…or perhaps not.”

Part 2: Here

[planetpedri]

Domestic!Pedri Head cannons ۶ৎ

I cannot contain myself. I’m actually about to tweak thinking about these. 😭 Thank you Enny for helping me come up with these smooch smooch. Sorry I got so carried away with these…

feel free to request head canons about anyone !

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, you catch talking to Nilo all the time. Pedri will walk around the house with the little black pup in his arms, pointing things out to him.

“And that’s a picture of me and your uncle Fer.. And that’s my new shoes, those you better not touch.” or he’ll scroll through his camera roll, showing pictures of many different things, mostly pictures he’d taken of you. “Look at her, isn’t she just perfect?” It’s genuinely the most adorable thing in the world.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, after a rough day of practice just wants to lay in between your legs while you thread your fingers through his freshly dried hair. After he adopted Nilo, every time he tries to enjoy your cuddles, the pup will jump and scratch at your legs till Pedri picks him up and lays him on his chest. A small smile takes over your lips at the sight, your boyfriend was just too adorable and so was your new addition.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, likes to cook with you. It had become a common routine for the two of you after you moved in together. Now, with a dog running around the house, you two found yourselves tripping over him often. When you do so, you both erupt into a light of laughter, spewing out apologies and kissing Nilo’s head even though he wasn’t hurt.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, after a long day at practice begs you to wait to shower until he gets home. He always insists that, “it’s saving water.” But you know he just wants an excuse to be close to you, and of course you always agree. You loved the way he peppered your shoulders with soft kisses and the way his hands felt massaging the shampoo into your scalp. Showers with Pedri were when you were your most relaxed, and he felt the same way.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, never leaves you alone. On your days off you like to make meals and snacks for each other instead of going out, knowing Pedri was on a strict diet, it helped save cost anyways. Whenever you are making something, Pedri will sneak up on you, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. Despite knowing what you were making, he’ll ask anyways, “What’re you making, amor?” He just loved to hear your sweet voice reply.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, always, and I mean always gives you three kisses whenever he’s about to leave or whenever he is grateful or even if he just is passing by. It’s never on the same spot, he kisses your lips, shoulders, cheek, temple, jaw, neck, anywhere. And he’ll rotate them every time. His own little way of saying, “I love you.” without actually saying it, not that he has a problem saying those three words, but he just liked the simplicity and intimacy of kissing you.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, loves to cuddle with you whenever he can. On his days off he likes to sleep in, groaning and complaining any time you try to cut it short to do your morning duties. Once you’re done (after prying yourself from his grip), you climb back into bed, this time spooning him, intertwining your legs together. Pedri loves to feel your soft breaths against his neck, half of the time it will lull him back to sleep.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, paces around the house constantly. Being an athlete, he is used to moving around constantly, which causes him to feel antsy when he’s sitting alone for too long. After coming home from work, you often find him walking around the living room, staring at his phone. He only settles down when he spots you, pulling you in for a welcoming hug.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, doesn’t care much for TV shows, but will watch anything with you as long as you’re cuddling. He tries to pretend he isn’t completely enthralled in whatever you’re watching, but his random outbursts when something stupid happens says all you need to know.

“He did WHAT?” , “Is this a joke?”

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, prefers staying in instead of going out for dates. With him constantly in the public eye, he feels uncomfortable with the invasion of privacy. When he’s having intimate moments with you, he prefers not to have to hide or mellow it down. In the safety of your home, he can kiss you anywhere he pleases without wondering how the media will react. He also just likes to have you all to himself, so being at home gives you all the privacy in the world with no interruptions.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, will do anything for you. If you’re having a bad day, he will pamper you senseless. If you are sick, he will disappear for half an hour and come back with your favorite foods or things to cheer you up. He loves to take care of you. He hates to see you hurting and would do anything to make you feel better.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, is the biggest baby when he’s sick. At first, he’ll act like it doesn’t bother him, but the second you make a concerned face, he’s suddenly so much sicker. He’ll pout and pretend he’s on his death bed till you call out of work to nurse him back to health.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, loves to do anything as long as it’s with you. You want to play board games? He’s already on the way to grab them. You want to go shopping? He’s grabbing the keys. You want to go to the movies? He’s putting on a hoodie. You want to go for a walk? He’s grabbing his sneakers. Anything you want, he will do.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, doesn’t hesitate to clean the dishes after meal times. He’d rather take care of it right away so you don’t have to worry about it later. He’s always on top of things around the house, too. If something needs repaired, he’ll make the calls for you. Your family loves to tease him about how good of a husband he’ll be one day, and you can’t help but agree.

(DT): @halfwayhearted ^_^

[cranberryjuice-posts]

hiii want to say that i just met your blog and i obsessed with it!! i really love your writing. anddd i want to make a abby request, abby and reader are in college and abby is like super popular and when they start to date reader is called “abbys girl” all the time and get super flustered? i dont know if i express myself good, english is not my first language, sorry! hope u have a amazing day, xoxo <3

- Abby’s girl -

Pairings - modern au! Abby Anderson x Fem! Reader

An - this is kinda bad I’m sorry 😭😭 I wasn’t really sure what plot to write but I still appreciate the request.

Everybody was cheering. With only a minute left on the clock the Seattle wolves vrs the Jackson mustangs— one of the oldest lasting rivals on and off the court, were pushing one another around trying to keep Abby from making her shot.

The blonde dodged around trying to avoid the other team. Making it to the 3 point line she threw the ball. Going through the hoop the clock blared at the same time, the referees announced the wolves win making the home side scream with excitement.

Abby shouted happily, making eye contact with you she grinned. Making your way out of the stands was easier said then done.

Eventually getting to the locker room you walked towards Abby’s spot. One of her teammates walked past you taking a moment to say hi. “Shit It’s Abby’s girl, hey she’s just over there the girls are cheering for her”

You felt your face turn red, “oh thanks” with a smile you watched as she walked away before going towards the shouting. Being the girlfriend of the basketball team captain tended to help boost your own reputation. Most of them didn’t know your name only addressing you as ‘Abby’s girl’.

Was it your preferred way of being addressed… well no. But it wasn’t the end of the world, all it did really was embarrass you.

Setting your purse down by Abby’s duffel bag on the bench you watched as the girls other girls crowded around her, chanting Abby’s name while they all celebrated their big win which would now take them to state. You were and always will be Abby’s biggest supporter, no matter what you would never miss any of her games.

She instantly noticed your presence, breaking free abby quickly made her way to you. Grabbing you by the waist she pulled you into a messy kiss. It was full of adrenaline and not coordinated. Pulling back Abby kept her face close to yours. A few of the other girls on the team chuckled at the display making you blush. “Hey” abby flirted against your lips.

“Hi” You giggled “You did amazing out there.. I mean really I genuinely believe Your Gonna win this thing”

“And im Gonna do even better tonight” she continued her cocky streak, pressing your hips against hers.

You rolled your eyes finding her attempts at seduction funny. “Uh huh, I’m gonna wait for you outside ok” kissing her one more time you gasped as she grabbed your ass. You rolled your eyes as you pulled back, giving her a warning look as Abby remained on her high.

—

You sat down on a bench near by the exit. Pulling out your phone you started to scroll on Instagram, trying to decided what to make a post about. That and finding a new restaurant near by to take Abby to, just to celebrate her big win before she actually tried to get you pregnant.

“So your Abby’s girl huh?” A woman spoke. Looking up you were taken back by seeing Ellie Williams the Jackson mustangs team captain.

Confused you nodded “uh yeah..”

She just scoffed. “How the hell did she manage to pull you” standing up you grabbed your purse, Ellie knew you had been offended by what she said.

“First of all she didn’t pull anyone, how we got into a relationship was because she’s a good person and secondly” you looked her up and down “why are you even over here, your bus is on the other side of campus”

“Damn, I was just asking” she laughed crossing her arms “but seriously though Abby? Her being a good person, that’s total bullshit she’s anything but good, besides I can do anything she does”

“Except win a Game”

You could tell Ellie was starting to loose her patience. Why was she over by you, to hell if you knew. There was a tense silence between you both, before she could speak the back door opened.

Abby stood tall and strong as always only her former grin was replaced with a look of disgust. Getting up you walked over to her, kissing her cheek. “Williams”

“Anderson”

Both girls staring at each-other with a Look of hate, You had heard Time and time again the rivalry between the two schools and between their families. “Why are You over here, and better question why are you talking to my girl”

“Fuck dude nobody’s trying to fight Dina just forgot her bag inside I offered to come get it.” Ellie looked at one once again before gesturing her head to Abby. “Your Girl seems like a real catch, guess you got lucky”

“Guess i did” her response was harsh. At this point you were fed up with the conversation and dealing with Ellie. Grabbing Abby’s hand you pulled her away.

——

Sitting on Abby’s bed you laughed softly at watching her go on a rant. “And don’t get me started on Joel the sheer fucking audacity of that man! He punched my dad because he couldn’t help Ellie. I repeat he punched MY DAD— why are you laughing”

“Nothing Nothing its Just.. your really cute when you get mad” Abby flipped you off making you laugh once again. After a moment she sat down on the bed beside you, taking a calming breath she leaned over kissing you softly, slowly, sensually.. pulling back she gently squeezed your hand.

“What did I do to deserve you” she muttered.

“Not much but working out and getting buff and being blonde helped, you know the important shit” you gave her a charismatic smile

“Your not Funny”

“I’m hilarious”

[paegei]

UNIVERSE FACTORY

pairing - idol!woozi x afab!reader

summary - you often found yourself locked up in your boyfriends studio with him, trying to make the most of his hectic schedule. sometimes however, things take a turn for the... steamier side.

a/n - another long break guys... im sorry <(＿　＿)>

NSFW CONTENT ! MDNI !

SMUT warnings under the cut !

SMUT WARNINGS: voyeurism, semi - public, degrading, use of slut, choking, sex up against a window, protective sex ( lets go ! )

UNIVERSE FACTORY - your boyfriends second ( well... maybe first ) home. you often liked to come visit him during his working hours, seeing as you have to remind him to take breaks. he made it very clear, however, that when he is in the zone, to NOT DISTURB HIM.

listen, jihoon LOVED your company alright ? loved the fact that you could simply exist in the same room as him, no words having been spoken, but you and him both know that he cannot, for the life of him, resist you.

it was like any tuesday night. you were stuck up on the leather couch in your boyfriends studio, admiring how passionate he was about his work. you usually spent your time in Universe Factory simply lounging - listening to music, ordering take out, scrolling aimlessly. today, was different. there was something in the air tonight.

you watched as jihoons arm moved while making his creations. the muscles under them seemingly glowing in the LED blue lights he had on. he had been getting so buff lately, so really, it was his fault ! you were simply appreciative of his hard work !

apparently, your staring was too loud for his liking, as without turning around he let out a gruff "stop". honestly ? pretty contradictory of him because he is WELL AWARE of what his deep voice does to you.

you tried your hardest, you really did. but it's not your fault he's so insufferably attractive ! enough was enough, and you decided to approach him. sure, he'll get mad, but all that means is an extra rough night. win-win situation in your books.

you slowly walk towards him, placing your arm atop his shoulder before brushing it further down, resting on his biceps. a shiver delved through his body, yet he still didn't turn to acknowledge you. horny beyond repair, you pushed his chair away from his desk, spun him around to face you, before plopping yourself down on his lap.

the act in itself was risky, so, without letting him so much as utter a word, you rushed forward, smashing your lips with his. a yelp left his lips, muffled due to the barrier that is your mouth on his. he hesitates, contemplating on giving you an earful for distracting him, but he cannot deny that your boldness melts his brain. so, with a heavy heart, he begins to match your vicious kisses, placing his hands on your waist and squeezing.

the kiss is hot. messy, spit sliding down your chins. he had been just as desperate as you, if not more, he simply had more control. his hands began to wander, just as your lips did the same. with his mouth free, he was able to finally speak.

"that fucking desperate huh ?" the rasp in his voice had made the effect of your panties growing wetter, so, as payback, you began to ground your hips down onto his, enjoying the feeling of his cock growing firmer with you ministrations.

his grunts followed the movements of you grinding, one escaping his lips with every stroke. he strained his neck back, allowing you more room to continue your nibbling.

"couldn't wait 5 more minutes, hmm ? my slut just can't help themselves, is that it ?" a whimper was all he got back in return.

his fingers somehow found their way inside your underwear, his fingertips brushing over your bundle of nerves. your lips detached from his heavily bruised neck to let out a wanton moan. his fingers continue their journey down.

"fuck, so wet. just from watching me work ?" his smirk is evident in his voice, and you watch as it grows when you weakly nod your head. "mm, could probably just slip right in, fucking soaked." he follows this promise as two fingers slide into your pussy.

you squirm above him, finally getting the relief you craved all night. for the second time, your lips gravitated towards each other, the kiss nothing but heavy panting a whimpers.

you feel his fingers stop for a slight moment, before he withdraws them completely. you begin to protest, your fingers gripping onto his shoulders. his gruff voice next to your ear stops you.

"up." the command sends electricity through your spine, your body obeying before your mind can even catch up. you stand on your shaky legs, looking down as he quickly follows, grabbing your wrist and walking towards the window. the one MANY carats look up to, hoping to catch a glimpse of your boyfriend.

"if you want to act like a slut" he starts, pushing your front up against the glass, slotting himself behind you. "why not let the world see it, huh ?" he moves to nip behind your ear. "safeword ?"

a moan leaves your lips, brain unable to complete a sentence.

"words or i stop". he starts to untangle himself from you, and the desperation finally allows words to form.

"r- red ! red ! please hoon don't stop !"

he wraps around you again, stopping to place a quick kiss to your forehead, mumbling a quick "good job, baby". his hands begin to rake your body, one reaching up to play with your tits, while the other runs up and down your back comfortingly.

his hands leave yours as he leans back to grab a condom from his desk drawer. while the time it took for him to slip the rubber on was closer to a minute, the horniess clouded your brain and caused the interaction to feel like hours.

finally, you feel his body return behind you, one of his hands resting on your waist while the other guides his cock towards your heat. as the tip pushes pass your walls, your forehead rests upon the glass, while he nuzzles his against your neck.

he waits a couple beats before he begins to slowly rock his hips into you. each thrust growing in strength.

"this what you fucking wanted ?" his tone is rough, angry, and makes you mewl. the clenching of your pussy causes him to let out a small whimper, completely contrasting his tough demeanor. you would use this as an opportunity to tease the man, however he predicted this, reaching his arm up to squeeze your throat. the feeling of air being restricted felt heavenly. the slight dizziness caused you to push your ass back, trying to fuck yourself on his cock.

"just had to be a slut and throw yourself at me."

there was a small lull in his dirty talk, as he leans his head back, focusing on the heat of your cunt. his neck was flexing as he bites back his moans; he doesn't want any noise besides the fucked out gasps you are making. the sight alone causes you to arch your back and smush your face further into the glass, letting a multitude of curses and jihoon's name pass your lips.

his arm that had previously been choking you, moves to sit up against the glass, helping his body completely envelope yours. his front rests against your back, one arm above your head, the other on your waist, his cock is kissing your cervix; the two of you could not get any closer.

"fucking slut, anyone could look up and see you drooling for me" his words cause you to clench around him harder. "let carats know i'm taken, yeah ?"

you peer down from the window. you can see no one is actually watching, and for a moment that disappoints you. the thought of one of jihoon's fans attempting to see your boyfriend, yet being met with the sight of you getting your life fucked out of you... now that brought immense pleasure.

his pace quickens, he appears to be just as affected by his words. the sound of skin on skin grows harsher, and the grip your cunt has on him gains strength. the tip of his cock finds your bundle of nerves and begins to make you unravel.

"hoon- hoon- fuck- 'm so close"

"yeah ? wanna show everyone how gorgeous you look when you cum for me ?"

the squelching of your cunt was deafening. you could feel the wetness sneaking down between your legs. jihoon runs his hand down, making figure 8 motions on your clit.

tears had begun to escape your eyes. your body began to convulse. the noises you were making somehow doubled in volume, as you let your orgasm take control. all of your words got slurred together, completely intelligable due to the weight of your peak.

faintly, you could hear jihoon praising you, something along the lines of "that's my fucking baby" or "so good for me". his thrusts lost their rhythm, he starts mindlessly humping into you.

his face smashes into your neck once more and his whimpers fill the room. you could feel his cock twitching inside you, emptying himself into the condom.

attempting to catch your breaths, jihoon quickly redirects you to the leather couch you had previously been occupying. he lays the two of you down, dick still inside you. his hands rub up and down your body while he patiently waits for you to come down from the intense high.

he peppers kisses along your neck, only looking up when he feels your hands in his hair. he leans forward, redirecting his kisses to your lips.

"y' okay ?" the question is murmured into your mouth. you softly nod your head.

he eventually lets your lips part, looking down at you before saying:

"i really hope no one saw that"

not proof-read ! lmk if there's any mistakes (づ￣ 3￣)づ

[yandere-writer-momo]

I had this idea in my head but I just couldn’t type it into a story. Chances are it be well near 15k word or more. So enjoy this super depressing head canon/ short story creation!!

Yandere Baki Shorts: One More Time

Biscuit Oliva x Afab Reader x Regretful Yandere Reverse Harem (Baki, Jack, Hanayama, and Katsumi)

TW: Angst and mentions of emotional neglect

(Your name) is Tokugawa’s granddaughter so everyone tolerated her excessive kindness since they did not want to upset Tokugawa. Though it was no secret he was indifferent to her and often ignored her in favor of the fighters of his tournament. She gave a lot of her nuturing love because she wanted nothing more in the world than to be loved in return. Sadly these men were emotionally constipated so they did not understand her affection and unknowingly took her for granted… she had an inkling that they did not like her but she still tried to cheer them up and encourage them to keep pushing through… despite no one doing the same for her (not even her grandfather)

Hanayama ignored her whenever she made an attempt to speak to him, Katsumi was always ‘too busy’ to spend time with her, Baki complained about Kozue all the time to her and would cut her off every time she spoke, and Jack was just mean. Jack was the most vocal of his distaste for her…

- Jack was the one who pushed her off the deep end. She visited him since he wasn’t at the Baki and Yujiro fight to check on him. And she offers him words of encouragement and support but he shut her down by saying, “Of course I’d get sympathy from someone as pathetic as you. Can’t you get the hint that no one wants you around? Why don’t you just do everyone a favor and disappear.”

She felt her entire world fall apart around her but she just asked Jack if she can just sit beside him for five more minutes and then she’ll never appear again. That she will disappear from his and everyone’s life if he just let her sit beside him for a few minutes. Jack relented so she rested her head on his large arm. He was disgusted by her touch but if it meant she’d leave him alone, then he would do it. Jack had no idea she simply wished for comfort since he himself had never experienced comfort (despite her constant attempts to comfort him since she felt he was the most traumatized).

After the promised five minutes passed, she rushed out of his apartment in tears. She ended up leaving her jacket behind since Jack had cried on it (she used it to cover his face since he didn’t want her to see him cry). He sighed in relief and gets back to watching the fight he believes should have been him

(Your name) was there for everyone in her free time. She was there for Hanayama when his mother died, she was the mediator between Baki and Kozue when they argued, she sat beside Katsumi while he was in the hospital, and she was at the hospital with Jack and even pitched in for some of his hospital bills since he sustained so many injuries… she was a very nurturing light but they didn’t appreciate her. No one cared about her.

None of them ever celebrated her birthday with her and they didn’t visit her in the hospital when she was sick. They didn’t know her favorite food or color. They didn’t know her favorite restaurant or her nervous ticks. They hardly responded to her texts if at all… (your name) was so lonely it wasn’t even funny.

So she decided to go to the family’s rumored well for a wish. An old wishing well from an old scroll she found hidden within a secret wall of the Tokugawa estate. It was written by one of the first relatives who wished for the Tokugawa family to become wealthy. Btu there was a price to pay… but it’s blurred out. Regardless of the unknown danger, (your name) travels up the mountain alone with the old map in hand… to make a wish.

Rather than wish for something selfish, she wishes for her friends- no the people she cared about, to have all their desires come true, but in exchange, she offered the spirit in the well her life. She’s never been touched, she’s still pure. (Your name) could be of value, right? But the spirit pitied her so they had her disappear from the Japan for five years... they wanted her tormentors to suffer the heart ache she had for the rest of their lives

The baki men all have their dreams come true… Shinshinkai dojo became world renowned for the best karate, Hanayama was successful as the leader to his family, Baki became the strongest creature in the world, and Jack defeated his father … but they were without her love and affection for five years… they missed her. They don’t feel like they deserved the success because she wasn’t there to cheer them all on. It all felt empty without the unwavering support of the bubbly (your name). They went insane in their search for her but she disappeared without a trace…

Baki often found himself glance at the stands after a fight in hopes he’d hear (your name)‘s voice cheer for him and sing his praises. That she would run over to him to check his wounds and treat him to dinner. He swore he would thank her this time and he’d give her some compliments himself. He had seen some pictures of her and had forgotten how pretty she was…

Katsumi would often unconsciously reach for a bento box on the bench he usually sat on at the dojo. He missed (your name)’s cheery smile as she handed him a home cooked meal. He swore he would make time for her if she asked to hang out with him. Katsumi would take her to every restaurant and fun date spot she wanted to try if she came back through the Shinshinkai’s doors. Katsumi would spend his time researching date spots in hopes of her sudden return. He wanted to make up for all the broken promises he’s made to her over the years…

Hanayama often found himself glance at the door in hopes she would come in and ask to walk through his rose garden with him. He made sure to add an extra chair in his office so she could sit beside him and talk to him as he worked. Hanayama swore he would listen to her her this time.

Jack is the most distraught. He was the last to ever see her and he still had her jacket… he felt so guilty. He hadn’t moved out his dinky apartment in hopes she would walk through his door again and ask to sit beside him. That she would want to share a meal with him and rest her head on his arm. Jack would do anything for her to come back… she was the only one who wasn’t afraid of him. Jack would give her the effort she deserved if she came back to him

Her memories of her so called ‘friends’ are wiped. She can no longer remember any of them or much about her life at the Tokugawa estate. The spirit sent her off to America where she comes to be under the care of a lonely Biscuit Oliva who had lost Maria. He’s instantly taken with her and he helps her since she seems so lost… he was lost too. And they found each other.

She spent five years by Biscuit’s side, where he spoiled her rotten. She was granted her true wish of being loved the way she deserved. Her true wish was granted and the Baki men paid the price.

Biscuit and her have a beautiful relationship. He talks with her and he listens to her. He remembered every small detail she shared about herself, even ones she did not verbally share. He’s so considerate of her and he helps her build self esteem. Biscuit constantly made time for her and always put his best efforts into making her happy. And Biscuit never stopped giving her compliments about her appearance or of a task she completed that she felt was minuscule. Biscuit claimed everything she did was perfect to him and he’d never change a thing about her. She often found herself crying here and there for no reason… like there was a part of her that finally started to heal

Five years later and Baki went to see Biscuit to challenge him for a fight out of boredom. Baki is shocked to hear such a familiar laugh and he runs into Biscuit’s room to find (your name) and Biscuit enjoying a meal together. She looked so beautiful in her designer dress… like a princess from a fairytale… but she had always been a princess now that Baki thought about it

Baki immediately collapsed in front of her and hugged her knees while he sobbed. He told her how much he and the others have missed her. How they were so sorry for the way they treated her, that she could come home… but she had no idea who he was… she didn’t know him. She didn’t remember him and it sent Baki spiraling. Baki is insistent that she’ll remember if she returned to Japan but she declined his offer. She told him that despite not knowing him, she was happy that his dreams came true

Baki refused to leave the Arizona prison until she returned back with him. She said she would so long as Biscuit can come with her. Baki is so thrilled… but the other men are much worse than Baki. So much worse.

When she arrived at the Tokugawa estate, Katsumi is the first to run to her and pull her into a hug. He’s bawling his eyes out as he hed her body as close to his body as he could. He babbled about his accomplishments and how he wished she was there to see them… that she belonged by his side. She just awkwardly pushed him away and apologized to him because she had no idea who he was. Katsumi went silent in disbelief and at first had thought it was a joke… but Baki frowned at him.

Baki explained to the other martial artists that (your name) completely lost her memories. They don’t believe him at first. Especially Katsumi who kept bringing up memories he had of her being at every tournament and by his side in the hospital. He convinced himself she was in love with him. (Delulu isn’t the solulu)

Hanyama just stared at her while she held Biscuit’s hand for comfort. He’s consumed with jealousy (on the inside) when he saw the way she looked at Biscuit… she used to look at him like that.

Hanayama quietly shared how the last five years of his life was without her and of his feelings for her… Hanayama admitted that he couldn’t date or sleep with anyone since she haunted his dreams since her disappearance. Hanayama kept his rose garden beautiful all year round since she loved it so much. Kaoru wanted to walk through the garden with her and pluck roses with her so she could display them in the compound… Hanayama even had a bench placed in the spot she’d always kneel in the grass in… he would be better for her if she came back to him… Hanayama would marry her on the spot

Hanayama offered her a lot of power, pleasure, and luxuries if she returned to his side but she politely turned him down. (He continued to bring it up whenever Katsumi or Baki weren’t speaking… it was so awkward)

Katsumi then spoke up about the last five years without her and about the true love he held for her. Katsumi admitted he searched for her face in the stands every time he had a tournament and he’d search for her when he was training people at the dojo. He never gave up his search for her. He felt awful for not making time for her and all the broken promises he made. Katsumi vowed to make as much time for her as she wanted if she just returned to his side… Katsumi swore that he would be an amazing husband to her. That he wanted to start a family with her and build her dream house… Katsumi poured his heart out to her with a pink blush on his cheeks. He sounded like he was sharing a dream that would never be in reach (delusional mf)

Baki then shared the last five years without (your name).. Baki and Kozue finally broke up for good a few years back due to their differences. Baki didn’t have the (your name) to help him make up with Kozue or to be his voice of reason. He didn’t have the (your name) to make sure he ate or that he rested enough. He didn’t have her compliment him or congratulate him anymore… he missed her motherly affection. He missed someone being proud of him. Baki rested his head on her lap while (your name) sits beside Biscuit. He kept trying to get her to rub her fingers through his hair but she swatted his hands away

Jack remained silent the entire time. He’s trying his best to remain calm but he looked angry… and he is. He’s so upset that she had been fine this entire time and she hadn’t came back to see him… he doesn’t believe she lost her memories because she’s so scared of him. She was never scared of him before… he wants to talk to her alone. His eyes don’t leave her the entire time while he clenched his jaw

Tokugawa brought up how she was always there for all the men in the room and how everyone had missed her so much but not a single person brought up any memories where one of them had been there for her… she asked if any of them knew her birthday and none of them knew. They were ‘so close’ to her but didn’t even know her birthday…

Biscuit pitched in and shared the date and the exact time of her birthday. The older man gave her a big smile before he began to list off her favorite color, food, and her hobbies. He shared all her quirks and her interests. It touched her heart… Biscuit knew everything about her which caused her to burst into tears .

The men all try to hand her handkerchiefs but she rejected them (she accepted Biscuit’s). She can’t explain to them why she started to cry, but she tells everyone that something within her was so happy… that Biscuit made her so happy.

(Your name) sadly had no desire to get to know any of the guys again because she’s happy with Biscuit. She tells them all that she’s happy they achieved their goals and that she’s proud of them but she no longer has a desire to be a part of their lives. Memories or not, from the way they talked about her, it seemed like she was the one who put in all the effort. Not a single one of them brought up a memory in which they did something for her… and that made her sad. Perhaps it was better she didn’t remember any of them

They cannot accept her rejection. Baki and Katsumi begin to beg and bargain. While Hanayama threatened her family (Tokugawa), but Biscuit held her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He began to try to take her away but Baki blocked the exit. He’s frantic and his eyes are crazy. He began to beg her not to disappear again. “I don’t want to live in a world where you aren’t there… I can’t do it again. Please stay.”

She tells him, “Perhaps that was the kind of world I lived in… a world where no one cared about me until I disappeared. Please live a good life and don’t forget to take care of yourself, Baki.”

Baki broke down and that’s when Jack rushed forward and grabbed her. He hurriedly brought her to the garden at the Tokugawa estate at an inhuman speed while the others all chased after him (especially Oliva)

Jack began to scream at her once they were far enough from everyone. He’s yelling on the top of his lungs while his face turned red and tears all from his cognac eyes. He finally fell apart in front of her after he tried to hold himself together for all these years.

“You do remember! Stop lying… you know who I am and that’s why you can’t look me in the face because you remember our last conversation all those years ago…”

“I swear I don’t remember-“

“You’ve never been scared of me before!” Jack screamed, the blonde ran his large hand through his short blonde locks. Jack tried to reel himself in but the emotions broke through the dam he held together for the last five years. “You’ve never looked at me like I’m a monster!”

(Your name) flinched at his sharp tone, her eyes wide in shock when Jack suddenly fell to his knees and held her hands. The blonde placed his jaw in her hands while he cried. The shouts of the others can be heard as they make their way towards the two of them. Yet it felt like it was only Jack and her left in the world in this very moment.

“I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean to tell you to disappear!” Everyone froze in shock when they make it to the outer perimeter of the garden. Their mouths open like a fish out of water at what Jack admitted… he was the reason? He was the reason she disappeared? “I didn’t… I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

(Your name) squirmed when Jack pressed his lips to her hand in a way to apologize. She didn’t know why, but she needed to leave. She wanted to get away from him because he was scaring her. But his iron grip on her hands prevented her from escape.

“You can hit me… you can do whatever you want to me so long as you come back to me. I won’t be mean to you ever again.” Jack whispered into the palms of her hands as he guided her right hand to cup his scarred cheek. “You can sit beside me as much as you like. You can wear my jacket on your head when you need to cry and you can share meals with me. W-we can go for hikes together and you can sit on my back when I do pushups. I’ll do anything for you to be by my side and to not look at me like that.”

(Your name) can only stand there in shock as the giant man before her now appeared to be more like a lost child eager for love than a man… it broke her heart but he wasn’t her responsibility. If he was the reason why she lost her memories in the first place then he deserved her forgiveness the least.

And that’s when all the memories flooded in. The loneliness. The heart break. The broken promises. The constant rejection. She lived such a pathetic life before she was granted a second chance… these men didn’t deserve her. They never did.

“Jack?” Jack perked up at his name, his breath hitched as he clung to the sound of his name leaving her lips for the first time in years. He missed when she spoke his name. To him, she was meant to speak his name… she was his.

“Yes?”

“Do me a favor and forget about me.” Jack felt himself shatter at her words, the blonde now her her hands tightly to his face. His breathing now erratic.

“What?” Jack was in disbelief. He didn’t hear that right… this wasn’t his (your name). There was no way his sweet (your name) would tell him to forget her. She would never reject him. “I didn’t catch that.”

“Forget about me. Treat me as if I never existed.” (Your name) repeated as she tried to move her hands off his face. “You don’t need to have someone as pathetic as me beside you.”

No… no. No. No. No. No. No. She was supposed to forgive him. She was supposed to kiss his scarred cheeks while she happily accepted his apology with tears of joy in her eyes. (Your name) should know he never apologized and that he truly sought forgiveness.

(You name) snapped her hands out of his hold and turned on her heel to leave. She ignored the men who had once constantly let her down now try to gain her affection. She didn’t need these people. She didn’t need empty promises and sweet words… (your name) just needed her lover, Biscuit Oliva.

“I want to go home.” (Your name) told Biscuit with a smile. She took his large hand in her small one and gave it a squeeze.

“Of course, dear. We can do anything you want.” (Your name) rested her head on Biscuit’s arm as he lead her out of the estate. She ignored the screams of her name and the loud begging of Katsumi and Baki.

They never turned their heads for her when she begged for love and when she’d ask to spend time with them… why should she turn hers?

(Your name) finally had the love she always wanted while they had fulfilled their goals… how could they be so selfish to want more?

“(Your name)! Please stay in Japan! We can get married and I’ll take you on dates every weekend!” Baki shouted while Katsumi tried to one up him.

“I’ll take you out everyday and we can get married as soon as tomorrow!”

“I’ll give you the world if you turn around and come to me right this moment.” Hanayama piped up from behind her. “If you don’t turn around, then the Tokugawa family will be no more.”

Tokugawa began to shout out to the granddaughter he neglected for years in favor of these men who didn’t value him. “Please don’t let him do that. You love your grandpa, don’t you? You can be the heir to the Tokugawa family!”

Poor Jack remained on his knees in the garden. His brown eyes dull as he watched her leave with Biscuit without so much as a glance behind her.

For the first time in five years, Jack and the others have suffered a true defeat. All they wanted was one more time.

Just one more time and they’d make it all right… for they could not accept that they already wasted so many chances to make things right due to their own selfishness. They had lost the one love of their lives forever.

[matryosika]

Maknae Line: Love Languages and Sex

Wordcount: 6,250 words

Genre: Smut, headcanons and scenarios.

Includes: Skz maknae line members, female reader, dirty dialogues. Mentions of stress in Seungmin's scenario, and the tiniest bit of angst too.

Author's note: Finally, the maknae version is here! I know it took me a while, and I apologize, but here it is. This is all lovey-dovey, just sweet filth. I had tons of fun writing this, so I hope you guys like it. If you want, you can check out the Hyung Line version here. This is not proofread, and english is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes. Enjoy!

If you wish to support my work further, please consider buying me a coffee! The job hunting has not been good pretty far, so every single tip is appreciated. Also, feedback, reblogs and comments/asks are very motivating for me to keep on posting. I love you.

Smut warnings: Dirty dialogues and curse words. Use of petnames, mutual masturbation (for Jisung's scenario), oral sex, face fucking (for Felix's scenario), cum eating (for Felix's scenario), shower sex (for Seungmin's scenario), choking (for Jeongin's scenario), body cumshot (for Jeongin's scenario), also possessive Jeongin because I love him so much.

Jisung: Physical Touch and Quality Time

"Is this one okay?”

Jisung has been scrolling for about 20 minutes over the movie catalog, trying to pick a movie for you to watch together.

A waste of time, you think. It’s not like you’re going to watch it anyways, and he knows it. But he still spares some of his time to try and find the right one, something you'd want to watch... or have as background noise while you two make out.

“Yeah,” the movie looks promising, but considering’s Jisung’s sneaky hand between your thighs while he mindlessly stare at the screen in front of you two, you’re really sure you’re not going to pay any attention to it. “That one’s good”.

Once the movie starts playing, you two settle in beneath the warm blankets with all sorts of snacks, candy and chips to munch from, happily enjoying each other's company.

Because of college and part-time jobs, it’s has been a while since you last enjoyed a chill, relaxed weekend with your boyfriend. Surely, he does everything he can to meet you throughout the week —a quick call between your classes to chat for a while, an unexpected invitation to eat or have dinner, driving to where you work so he can pick you up and drive you home… Jisung always finds a way to spend some time with you, even for ten or fifteen minutes.

That's why whenever you two are free for the day, he rushes up to your apartment, or ask you to meet in his, just so he can spend all day together with you. Sometimes you two go out and enjoy a nice dinner somewhere, followed by a late-night walk through Seoul’s streets. Some others, you’d rather spend your weekend at home, ordering take out and just unwinding together like you’re doing right now.

But almost always, such dates end with you two fucking like you haven’t seen each other in months.

“The screen is right in front of you, Ji,” you tease him, once you realize his undivided attention is all over you, and not the movie he allegedly chose because he has been meaning to watch it for a while now.

“I know,” he simply replies, tilting his head while his loving eyes keep staring at you.

You turn your face to him, defeated. “You know, ever since we started dating I’ve never been able to watch a 2-hour movie complete”.

Jisung smiles fondly, letting out a soft scoff. “Am I really the only one to blame?”

“That’s not the point!,” you can feel the heat in your cheeks when he says so, but you try your best to remain calm. “The point is that you’re not paying attention to the movie, and it’s really good”.

“Oh, so you’d rather watch the movie?” his teasing tone tells you that you’re most definitely not going to keep on watching the movie, not even if you tried.

And although you’re not a fortune teller, the sudden touch of his hand against your inner thigh proves you right.

“If this is what you wanted since the beginning, why bother spending hours looking for something to watch?” you hum, spreading your legs underneath the comforter, welcoming Jisung’s touch.

He gives you a mischievous look before returning his attention to the screen, leaving his hand between your thighs without doing anything further. 

“You know, you’re right,” he sighs, cuddling into his spot. “We should watch the movie, we’re almost halfway through it”. 

His touch isn’t foreign to your body, but that doesn’t mean you’ve gotten used to it. Every time he touches you, it feels like it’s the first time he ever does so. It feels like a spark of electricity, one that ignites your desire in no time.

“Yeah right,” you chuckle, shifting your position on the couch to get close to him. “You’re saying so like you’re not going to forget about the movie in 5 minutes”.

“Do you want to bet?”

Typical Jisung. His fun and always-down-for-a-challenge personality is probably one of the things that made you fall in love with him profoundly, so you smile at him. “Bet what? That you can’t keep your hands off of me?”

“You can’t keep your hands off of me,” he mocks you, staring at you with loving and playful eyes. “I’m just too handsome for you not to crave me all the time”.

You roll your eyes, but you know he’s right. There’s something enticing about him, something that captured your attention ever since the day you met him for the first time. You can’t think of going on a day without kissing him, or touching him, or letting him fuck you in every room of your apartment.

“Okay, okay, I think we’re even,” you tell him, leaving a quick peck on the corners of his lips. “You crave me just as much as I crave you”.

Jisung pouts because of the quick kiss, his hand moving from your inner thigh to your hip. “So we can forget about the movie, then?”

You chuckle softly, brushing your nose against his as he leans over your for another kiss. “It’s not that good, anyways”.

“No?” the dark-haired purrs against your lips, kissing you deeply while his tongue grazes yours. He only stops the kiss to let you breathe for a couple of seconds, but kisses you again right after. “Is this better?”

“A hundred times better,” you smile, still kissing him while his hand gets lost in the hems of your clothing.  

Next thing you know, the comforter has been discarded to the floor and Jisung's running out of clothes to take off from you, only leaving you in your underwear. His hands touch and grope your body like it’s the first time he touches it, like he is just exploring it despite knowing it very well.

Jisung always touch you like he has been craving it for ages, dragging his palms over the sides of your body and pressing you against his to feel you even more, completely at all. He kisses and licks your neck and chest, letting out quiet moans in between, enjoying your smell and the way your skin welcomes his love bites by turning shades of pink and red.

You latch your fingers onto his dark, soft hair when he slides your underwear to the side, his fingers immediately offering you the much needed stimulation. You do the same, sneaking your hand underneath his underwear to find his erected cock that is already leaking, practically begging for your touch.

“You got one thing wrong, though,��� he murmurs in between kisses, shifting his position on the couch just slightly so that you can comfortably masturbate him while he does the same for you. “I don’t think it’s possible for you to crave me more than I crave you”.

“Do you want to bet?” you chuckle against his lips, drowning a moan when you feel his cock throbbing inside your fist.

The more you jerk him off, the sloppier Jisung’s fingers get, and the more he stimulates your clit, the slower the rhythm on your wrist —it’s a neverending moment. You’re kissing while pleasing each other, moaning in between, losing the pace of your ministrations as you both chase your highs, murmuring sweet nothings under your breathes, interrumpting the kisses to look at each other with lustful eyes and furrowed eyebrows, parted lips and quiet whimpers.

It doesn’t take you long to come in each other’s hands, making a mess of yourselves and your underwear. You’re now dirty, and practically naked, so Jisung can’t lose the opportunity to change his mind about the movie.

“Do you want me to run a bath for us, baby?”

You’re sure you know how that is going to end, but you can’t refuse.

Felix: Words of Affirmation and Quality Time

You both have been waiting for this exact moment ever since the last time you saw each other. Which was two days ago, but it felt like ages.

Tonight, you’re supposed to attend a dinner party of one of your closest friends, but you’re really struggling to get out of bed. Especially because it's Felix who's holding you hostage between his arms, pouting and whimpering every time you remind him of the very little amount of time left to get ready.

“Let’s ditch the dinner,” he tells you, snuggling underneath the bedsheets and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Let’s stay like this all night. What do you say?”

You throw a pillow at him and get free from his hold. Truth be told, you'd rather accept his proposal, but you can't ditch on this very close friends of you, especially on such an important occasion as a birthday is.

“Come on, Lix,” you murmur, walking towards the bathroom mirror to do your makeup. It had been a wise decision to take a shower before cuddling each other during the afternoon, otherwise you'd be more in a rush than you already are.

You hear him groan, and curse, and groan again until he meets you at the bathroom, joining you in the sink to brush his teeth and do a little bit of makeup.

When he approaches you, you notice his semi-hard bulge underneath his grey sweatpants as he relentlessly tries to fix and conceal it. Perhaps the cuddling session got to him, and he would rather stay at home and fuck you on every position known to mankind than going out and missing the warmth of your body.

You understand him, though.

“What?” he chuckles, his deep voice startling you minutes after being shamelessly looking  at his crotch. “Did you change your mind?”

Hadn’t been this a very close and dear friend of yours, you’d cancel them on the spot. But you really want to go, so the plan is still on.

However, it doesn't really matter if you get there a little late, does it?

“No,” despite your answer, the way you close your cosmetics bag mid-through your makeup confuses Felix. “But we can have fun of our own before meeting our friends, don’t we?”

His eyes widen just a little. “We’re not going to make it on time if we start,” he tells you, tilting his head flirtatiously towards you.

“The point is to be there,” you reply, planting a wet kiss on his freckled cheek. “I don’t mind if it takes us a little while to get ready”.

Felix wraps his arms around your body and holds you close to him, forcing your lips against his in a peck that quickly, turns into a heated french kiss.

He kisses oh so deliciously. Never too rushed, and never too sloppy. He kisses you slowly and roughly, fucking your mouth with his tongue and biting your lower lip in between, pulling it just in the slightest to earn a hiss from you.

“You’re only getting me harder,” Felix murmurs when you interrupt the kiss to breathe. Judged by the strong pressure against your thigh, you can only assume he’s right. “I’m gonna need to jerk off or else I'm going to spend the entire dinner like this”.

“Jerk off?” you query with knitted eyebrows, your hand playing with the hems of his sweatpants and underwear, “I’m right here, Felix”.

“I don’t want to ruin your make up,” it’s not fully done yet, but he doesn’t want to discard your efforts in what you had by now. The eyeliner and mascara were surely going to make a mess —last time he fucked you, you both realize it wasn’t as waterproof as they claimed them to be. “And I don’t want to make a mess out of you either”.

“I don’t care,” you whisper, leaving a trail of kisses from his lips, along his jaw and into the crook of his neck, “let me help you”.

“I won’t take responsibility for anything,” Felix warns you while not being able to divert his gaze from your figure that's currently kneeling in front of him. He rests his body against the edge of the bathroom countertop, with his back facing the mirror, and guides his fingers to your freshly brushed hair, “so you better start thinking about a new outfit option”.  

“Got it,” you hum, lowering his clothes to release his erection that's throbbing and pulsating inside your fist, begging for you to pay attention to it. “What about that black dress you like so much, huh? Should I wear that one tonight?”

Felix closes his eyes and throws his head back when he reminds the piece of clothing you’re referring to. Not only that, but the memory paired with the feeling of your warm tongue swirling against the tip of his dick earns you a deep moan from him.

“Y-yes,” he hisses, forcing his head down and opening his eyes to admire the whole scene. “But don’t expect me to keep my hands off of you tonight if you do”.

You smile while smacking his cock against your tongue, tasting the salty precum from his tip. He looks beautiful from this angle —his slightly sloping face is commanding, and his normally gentle eyes are now dark with desire.

“Like that,” Felix encourages you, grabbing a fistful of your hair while forcing your head back, “do that again for me”.

You stick out your tongue further and slap his cock against it yet again, making sure to put on a full show for him. You let drool fall into your chest, staining the dress you’re currently wearing —and the one you were supposed to use at the birthday dinner tonight— but you don’t do anything about it because you know how much Felix likes that.

“Fuck,” he sighs, guiding the grip on your hair towards his dick, asking you to take him fully inside your mouth. You follow compliantly, because that’s exactly what you want too. “You’re so- fuck, so fucking beautiful”.

Felix has a way with words. He's very vocal at all times, especially when it comes to sex —not a day goes by without him praising and complimenting you. That’s just one of the many ways he shows his love towards you, and he knows how much you love it.

“Since when does your pretty mouth can take me so well?” You hold your breath when your nose hits his pubic bone, drooling all over his cock as he says so. After much fooling around with Felix, your body has grown to know him fairly well, “you’re making me feel so good”.

You take his cock out of your mouth and continue stroking him using your own drool as lubricant, offering him a delicious friction that has him gripping the edge of the bathroom counter until his knuckles turn pale.

Felix does his best to keep his eyes open, staring down at you while you suck on his cock eagerly, demanding something he can only give you. He’s just about to give it to you, but he wants to elongate the moment as much as he possibly can.

“Look at me,” he demands, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face. “I want to come while looking at your face”.

You're definitely not the best looking right now, with all the drool spilling from your mouth and your eyeliner and mascara smudged, but Felix thinks you've never look prettier. He loves this side of you, the dirty one.

He caresses the side of your face with his thumb, wiping away a few tears running down your cheeks after taking all of his dick inside your mouth. “I love you so much,” Felix quietly moans, his words getting overshadowed by his heavy breathing, but still managing to reach your ears nonetheless. “I love you so- fuck, so fucking much”.

You smile against the tip of his dick and increase the movement of your wrist around him, getting yourself ready for his orgasm —an orgasm that doesn’t take too long to happen, shooting white ropes of cum onto your face and dress while he curses and whimpers your name under his breath.

After a couple of seconds of him overcoming his high, and you licking his arousal up until he’s clean, Felix helps you get up from the floor and kisses you just as deep as earlier, tasting himself off of your tongue.

“I’m fully convinced I want to marry you,” he chuckles against your lips, licking up some of his cum on your chin.

“Well, my hand looks a bit empty without a ring, you know?”

Seungmin: Acts of Service and Quality Time

When you called him, crying over the phone, Seungmin's heart was practically wrenched.

“I’m so- I’m so fucking stressed,” despite his efforts to try and talk to you, asking you what’s wrong, you just couldn’t begin to explain him that there was nothing, specifically, wrong. You just felt overworked and tired because of college, and you were having a hard time handling everything.

“Where are you right now?”

“College campus,” you tell him, trying your best to look collected while crying, sitting on a bench not too far from the main building. “I’m supposed to attend another class in like-”.

“I’m picking you up,” it's not a question nor a proposal. It's an affirmation, one that you're ready to argument.

“No, Seungmin. It’s okay, I-”

“You’re not okay, you’re crying,” his voice is filled with concern, and judged by the noises in the background you can tell he’s walking while on the phone. “Let me take care of you”.

You agree, but feel guilty immediately afterwards once you realize that he probably left everything he was doing just to meet you. You didn’t ask him to, but he showed up a couple of minutes later, picked you up and drove you to your apartment, staring at you from the side every now and then just to see if you were okay.

“I’m sorry,” you exhaled. “I overreacted, I don’t know why I cried like that and I- just wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t mean to worry you, it’s really not a big deal. I’m just stressed over college and that’s it”.

“You’re rambling,” he cuts you off, sweetly and delicately as he always does. It’s not that he doesn’t want to listen to you, because he always does, but he knows you have this habit of rambling whenever you’re anxious. “I drove all the way here because I wanted to be with you”.

“Yeah but-”

“Hamburger or pizza?”

“Huh?”

“What are you craving for dinner?” Seungmin has always said he is not very good with emotions, but you disagree —he might not be one to use words, but his actions always speak louder. “I’m craving pizza, but I don’t know if you’re down for that”.

“Pizza is good,” you reply. “But let me- I just want to apologize, really. I feel so fucking silly for throwing a tantrum like a child”.

“Child’s tantrums are way worse,” he interrupts you, but his voice is so soft and delicate that you can barely hear it over your rushed, disorganized speech.

“My point is that I’m sorry for crying on the phone like that. You didn’t need to do all this, and now I feel awful. It’s just college stress, nothing I can’t handle”.

“And my point is that I know you can handle everything, as you always do,” he reassures you, turning to face you at a red light, “but I want to help you handle everything, too. If you call me crying, I don’t see why I can’t rush out to you and take care of you, it doesn’t matter the reason behind those cries”.

There's a lump in your throat that threatens to make you cry again, but this time for all the opposite reasons. You’ve never felt this safe and loved until you met him.

“So pizza it is?”

He drives to your favorite pizza place and orders take out  —the sky is getting grey, and the wind is getting chill so he would rather have dinner at the coziness of your apartment. You both eat, unwind, talk about your day prior to meet each other, and enjoy the company that you desperately needed today.

“I think I’m going to take a shower,” you inform him after doing the dishes together. “I think it’ll help me sleep better”.

“Mind if I join you?” Seungmin asks you, drying his hands with a small, kitchen towel. “Both to shower and bed”.    

It’s not every day you get to sleep in the very same bed as him, so you agree without thinking it twice. Knowing you’ll get to spend the night with him makes you forget about all the daily stress already, so you’re grateful he’s sharing his time with you.

“Close your eyes,” he warns you with a smile and hands full with shampoo foam. You follow his order compliantly, and the next thing you feel are his hands massaging your scalp and hair with shampoo. “Close them!”

“I’m sorry,” you giggle, closing them immediately afterwards. “I just want to see you”.

“Let me rinse this off, alright?” he guides you underneath the shower faucet and starts wiping away all the foam, delicately caressing your face while the water rinses off a whole day of stress. “Don’t open them yet, or else it’ll sting”.

It’s practically impossible to ignore his touch and body pressing against yours throughout the whole interaction, and he probably notices this too —your nipples are hard, both from the stimulation and the feeling of warm water running through your body, and you can’t help but whimper every time they rub against his bare chest.

“There,” Seungmin murmurs, encouraging you to open your eyes. The first thing you see is his gaze underneath his dark, wet hair, followed by bright smile.  

You tip toe a bit to reach his pink lips, and you leave a wet peck in the corner of them. A quick, single kiss that makes Seungmin’s bright smile turn into a flirty, soft smirk.

He brushes a few wet strands of hair away from your face, and caresses your skin while tilting his head. You know he wants this, just as much as you want it too, but he probably felt too scared to make the first move, considering the wholesome moment you were sharing.

“Can I?” he’s leaning over you, with both of his hands cupping your cheeks and his lips dangerously close to yours.

“Please,” you nod, closing your eyes even before you felt him kissing you.

It starts of slow, but gets gradually deeper as he holds you tightly against him; the water is still running, but it feels ten times warmer now.

“I don’t want to ruin the moment like this,” you whisper, feeling your heart racing, “but I really want you to fuck me”.

“How could that ruin the moment?” Seungmin chuckles, guiding his hands to your ass.

“I don't know, you're being so sweet to me and all I can imagine is how it would feel to have you deep inside me right now,” you confess, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You don’t have to imagine it, you know?” his hands guide you to turn around on your feet, and he presses his chest against your back until you’re trapped between him and the wall. You can feel his erection against your ass, and that alone has your pussy clenching around nothing, wishing it was his cock you were clenching around. “If you want, I can fuck you right here”.

You feel him kissing and nibbling at the skin on your shoulders and neck, and you immediately melt between his arms, “I want you”.

You can’t see him but, once he guides his hand to your core and feels your wetness, the soft scoff he lets out tells you he’s probably amused by your neediness. “You’re all ready for me, hm?”

You press your cheek against the cold, wall tiles, and arch your back a bit more —just enough to allow him a better access to your pussy. He places one hand on your hip, while the other guides the tip of his cock to your cunt, teasing your folds and rubbing it against your clit.

“Please fuck me,” you whine, laying both of your palms flat against the white tiles.

“Take a deep breath for me,” he latches his lips to your neck and the next thing you feel is a sudden stretch between your legs. You let out a painful moan, as you’re definitely not used to have him fucking you while standing.

It’s a challenge, really. The second you felt him entering you, your legs threatened to give up on your weight.

“Don’t worry,” Seungmin hisses once he bottoms out, feeling your walls hugging him tightly. He can feel how tense you are, trying hard to hold on to anything to prevent you from falling, “I’ll hold you tight, won’t let go of you, okay?”

You nod, barely frantically, and relax on the spot. You trust him Seungmin wholeheartedly, so you get completely carried away by the feeling of his cock hitting the right spot inside your pussy.

He reaches his hand forward, into the small space between your abdomen and the wall, and guides his fingers towards your clit, rubbing it gently while fucking you.

“J-just like that,” you moan. “I’m- I’m getting close”.

“Yeah?,” Seungmin purrs, managing to keep the pace between his thrusts and his fingers. “Come for me, then”.

You blame it on all the time you spent without being able to fuck with him because of your schedules, but truth is that Seungmin always makes you come really fast. He knows your body well enough by now, and he pleases you like no one has before. And could he not be? If he has spent hours and hours touching you, eating you out and fucking you so he can be the best at pleasing you.

“Seungmin,” you gasp, feeling your legs shaking and your mind dizzy. If you let go, you’re sure your face is going to meet the floor.

But, as if he could read your mind, he wraps his arm around you and holds you right in place, giving you all the support you needed. “Now,” he moans, “you can come”.

You finally let go between his arms, pressing your face against the wall while Seungmin takes care of everything —from helping you ride your high, to keep you standing on your feet.

He holds you while you overcome your orgasm, feeling your heart beats and the way you breath. He is close to coming as well, but you’re always his priority in moments like this.

Always so caring and sweet.  

Jeongin: Physical Touch and Gifts

[19:28, You: I’m here]

[19:28, You: Where are you?]

You stare at the big, white letters on top of the entrance of the store, and you can begin to guess what this urgent meeting is all about. It’s not the first time you visit it, and it is most definitely not going to be the last, you think.

There are a couple of people inside, people who make you feel as if you’re underdressed to go jewelry shopping —not that you had clothes to match the ocassion, but you didn’t expect to end your day standing outside one of Seoul’s most expensive stores.

“Hey!” Jeongin greets you from inside, smiling widely once he spots you. He walks towards you and the brightness in his eyes tells you that he's most definitely excited about something.

“What is it?” you immeditaly asked, catching his smile.

“I stopped by and I wanted to gift you something,” he grabs your hand and guides you inside the store, following a path and turning around every other table until you reach the jewels in exhibition he’s excited about, “I didn’t know which one you liked best, and I tried to take a picture of them but the camera didn’t make them any justice”.

“What’s the occasion?”

“You,” Jeongin tilts his head. “You’re the most beautiful woman I know, and these are the most beautiful necklaces I’ve seen in my entire life. Is only fair for you to have them”.

“I don’t- These are too expensive,” you furrow your eyebrows, not knowing the final price of each and confident you're better off without that information.

“So?”

“I can’t accept one,” you shake your head. Your eyes encounter an emerald and diamond necklace that’s too stunning it caught your attention —Jeongin has good taste, you have to give him that.

But said taste it’s also very expensive, so you’re not sure that works out.

“What about all of them?”

Your eyes widen in shock, and you playfully hit him in the arm, “you’re so unserious!”

“I mean it,” the dark-haired smiles, tilting his head at you. “Either you pick the one you like the most, or I’ll buy all of them for you”.

Jeongin never gifts you things expecting anything in return —if anything, the only thing he expects when he buys you jewelry, or clothes, or anything, is that you put them to use.

You’re still not used to this kind of love language, but he tries everything to make you feel comfortable.

“Are you sure?” you hesitate, and he nods eagerly, wondering which one is the one you like best. “That one, the one with the emerald”.

“Pretty,” he smiles, “just like you”.

He takes care of the bill, and you keep on staring at the rest of the jewelry exhibited around the store. To be honest, you’re curious about the price, but you’d rather stay ignorant than feeling guilty about the money he spends on you.

Then, Jeongin sees you admiring a bracelet for quite some time, and he makes a mental note to go back and buy it for you on the next occasion. He knows love can be expressed in many, many ways, but a gift is never out of place.

“Let’s go back to my place, yeah?” he asks you, grabbing your hand as you walk through the mall. “I can pick up dinner and we can spend the night together, what do you say?”

“Sounds good to me,” you smile, trying to keep up the pace with his long legs.

Once you get home, and you unwind together, Jeongin brings the small, white bag with the red, velvet box inside it. You saw the necklace on your way to his apartment, but you didn’t try it on.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper, admiring the shine of it from every angle. “I’m not- sure how to style it”.

“Pretty sure you’ll find a way,” Jeongin smiles with his eyes fixed on the jewel. “You make everything look pretty”.

“Thank you,” your gaze meets his, and you can tell how sincere and genuine he is. Your heart skips a bit when you spot that spark in his eyes again, and your curiosity makes you question him once again. “What?”

“Let me put it on you,” he tells you, standing up from the dinner table and walking towards you, taking away the velvet box off of your hands, “come here”.

You follow him into his room, that’s barely illuminated because of the street lights and a small lamp on top of his nightstand. You stand in front of a big, full-length mirror, and he stands right behind you, holding the necklace with one of his hands while he makes eye contact with you through the mirror.

“Wait, just let me-,” he motions for you fix your hair out of the way, and once you’re done he he places the necklace around you. “There”.

The necklace is very, very pretty on you. So pretty that, for a minute, you completely forget about the outfit you’re wearing, and how it doesn’t match Jeongin’s gift at all.

“Thank you,” you chant again, caressing the jewel as you watch it become your most prized possession. “It’s just- beautiful. I don’t want to take it off, ever”.

“Then don’t,” he murmurs, placing a kiss on your naked shoulder. “Wear it all the time, let everyone know who gave it to you”.

You turn around on your feet and wrap your arms around his neck with a cheeky smile. “What for?”

“So everyone can know you’re mine,” his siren eyes are staring deep into yours, and that alone is enough to arouse you. Not only that, but the implied possessiveness under these kind of gifts is making you feel some kind of way.

“Everyone knows I am yours already,” you whisper, leaning in for a kiss. “I don’t need to wear a necklace for that”.

“But it’s fun, isn’t it?” Jeongin asks you, “everytime you feel the necklace around your neck, you can think of those times where my hands have done the job”.

You feel the heat rising up to your cheeks almost immediately, and you wonder if he can tell.

“The necklace is very pretty, but you like my hands way more, don’t you?” again, the filthy question makes you a bit timid, but you still nod.

“See? I don’t need expensive jewels to be happy,” you chuckle softly, planting a quick kiss on his lips. He responds the kiss with one much more steamy, one that actually makes you gasp for air in between.

“So what is it that you need, hm?” he teases you, cupping either side of your face with his big hands.

“You know what,” the complicit smile on your lips is the consent Jeongin needs to guide his hand from your face to your neck, squeezing it slightly as he applies pressure to the sides of it. The harder he chokes you, the wider you smile.

“Is this enough to make you happy?” judged by his cold gaze, and the deeper tone of his voice, you know you have Jeongin exactly where you want him.

“I’m missing something else,” you quietly murmur, just as much as his grip around your neck allows you to. “Can you give it to me?”

“What is it that you’re missing?” he asks you, a twisted smile peeking through the corners of his lips, “tell me, and I’ll give it to you”.

Jeongin knows exactly what you’re talking about, and what you’re referring to, but he menas every word he says. If there’s something you’re missing, he’d travel the whole world just to give it to you. If there’s something you want, all you have to do is ask.

“Your cock,” you finally tell him.

In the blink of an eye, you’re both naked in his bed and he’s hovering over you, positioning himself between your legs while he bites his bottom lip. You’re still wearing the necklace, as a request for him, and it feels somewhat heavy on your chest. It will probably weight heavy from now on, everytime you wear it, because it will remind you of how good of a lover Jeongin is to you.

“It looks so good on you,” he hisses, coating the tip of his cock with your slick. You’re so slippery, and warm, and inviting that he can’t spend another second without being buried deep inside your pussy. “You- look so good like this, with your legs spread for me”.

You moan at his words, wrapping your legs around his waist and forcing him to bottom out inside you, desperately wanting to feel all of himself.

“F-fuck”.

“So tight,” Jeongin whispers, closing his eyes while assimilating the stimulation your body provides.

He starts off slow and only goes rougher once he’s sure you’re ready for it. He wraps his hand around your neck and chokes you while fucking your pussy, admiring the diamond resting on top of your bouncing breasts.

The necklace is even prettier like this, he thinks.

“Right there,” you gasp, closing your eyes shut while your orgasm hits you unexpectedly. You writhe underneath him, digging your nails on his biceps. He fucks you even faster through your orgasm, making you spill a tear or two —not only he is a good lover, but he fucks oh, so well too.

You moan his name over and over again, thanking him in between. The ravages of your high are hitting you, as well as the painful overstimulation, but you don’t want him to stop. You want him to come inside you, to fill you up until he’s leaking out; however Jeongin has other plans in mind.

“Can I- come, on you?”

You’re not sure what he means, as he usually finishes inside you, but you still nod desperately, wanting whatever it is that he wants.

So he thrusts himself inside you a couple of times before pulling out, kneeling over you while stroking his cock and driving himself to his orgasm. You stare at him with dreamy eyes, aroused by the heavenly sight he’s offering you —there’s something enticing about his facial features when he comes, how they sharpen and his eyes get pitch black.

“Fuck,”  he curses under his breath as he comes over your breasts, spilling his hot cum all over them and the necklace.

You didn’t understand his petition until now, that you realize the diamond is covered with his arousal, glistening even brighter under the dim lights of his room.

“You made a mess,” you chuckle, staring at your tits.

“I just wanted to make sure you're going to remember who gave you this”.

[boldlyvoid]

Scare Tactics

18+ Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Summary: Surprisingly, Aaron agreed to a darker roleplay this Halloween.

Warnings: Ghostface role play, scene planning and negotiations, taking about safewords and limits, CNC, stalking, stalker phone calls, fake break-ins, handcuffs, oral (male receiving), deep throating, rough sex, degradation, name calling, slight pet/owner kink mentioned, begging, vibrators, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampies, domdrop, aftercare

Word Count: 6100

When he gets in that night, it’s late. Pushing midnight, late. That’s not really a shock to her, he’s always got something going on. Between driving his son everywhere he needs to be, working on the PTA and teaching night classes at the local college, Aaron Hotchner is a busy man. Always has been, and always will be.

She’s in bed, scrolling through things on her phone as she waits for him to arrive. She is just catching up on the newest trends and celebrity gossip when she hears his heavy feet coming up the creaky old steps of their century home. While it is a beautiful place to lay low in the middle of nowhere, the sounds it made— especially at night— were insanely creepy.

The TikTok she’s watching doesn’t help either… she’s been listening to creepy Reddit stories and looking at home footage of spooky happenings. The videos she’s seen the most tonight, however, are ghost face videos. Be it thrust traps or couples going to the store to buy a mask to enhance alone time later that night, she’s seen them all.

There’s one on her screen as Aaron opens their door, she quickly locks her phone and looks at him with a guilty smile.

His old profiler ways clock in on the awkwardness right away, “What were you doing?”

“Nothing,” she presses her lips together and shakes her head, pretending she doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“Wait… were you watching porn?” He asks. Eyes narrowed in on her, waiting to read her reaction.

She laughs, “no? Oh my god? I mean…. It’s not, but it definitely does something to me.”

He sits on the edge of the bed, “well, now you have to tell me?”

She sighs, thinking how she’s going to explain it to him of all people. “You’re going to think I’m insane.”

“Too late,” he teases.

She shoves him, “Seriously, it’s weird… I don’t even like the movies but—

“Oh, you were looking at thirst traps again?” He’s only recently learned that term.

She can’t help but smile, “Yeah… do you know the scream movies?” He nods. “There’s a trend right now where couples are having sex while the dominant partner has the ghost face mask on.”

“It is like a full role play? Breaking in? Phone calls? Knife play?” He asks as if they’re setting boundaries already, planning a kinky scene is something they’ve done a few times. He likes to know all the limits, the expectations and what turns her on about it before they agree to anything.

“Wait, you’d do it?” She asks, sitting up straighter. “Seriously?”

He nods, “if it’s something that’ll get you off, why not?”

She tosses the blankets back and gets to her knees, he pulls her into his lap and holds her by her hips. She cups his face and presses a quick kiss to his lips, “so you don’t think it’s weird?”

He shakes his head, “Not at all… mask kinks are incredibly common.”

“And if I did want you to pretend to stalk me and break in and overpower me…”

“I’d need some prep time, I’ll have to have a free day the next day and Jack can’t be in the house that night,” he explains his boundaries. “I’ll, of course, give you aftercare right after and when you’re okay, we can switch?”

She pets his hair and nods, “Of course, my love. I’ll take the best care of you after. I appreciate everything you’re willing to do for me.”

“You just have to get the mask and maybe we can talk about the specifics of a script or series of events for the night,” he whispers, brushing his nose against hers. “Maybe you can get something new to wear during it?”

She likes the sound of that, but she just has one question. “Black or red?”

—

He gets a burner phone a week before the scene is set to happen. He doesn’t tell her thats what he’s done but when he’s getting ready to leave for work one night he smirks from the closet and says “if you get a phone call from an unknown number… be sure to answer, okay?”

She knows he has a class tonight, he has Introduction to Legal Skills from 6-8 and then Trial Advocacy from 9-11:30. Jack goes to bed around 10:30, so she knows he’ll call sometime after Jack's in bed. Otherwise, he could hear the conversation and either be scared for life knowing his parents had kinky sex or grow concerned that his stepmom had a real stalker after her. And he’s been traumatized enough for a 17-year-old boy.

Sure enough, her phone rings at 11:45 while she’s in the living room, on her phone with the TV on in the background.

“Hello?” She answers, a fake sense of nervousness in her voice.

“What are you watching, Y/N?” He asks, his voice deeper than usual. Almost scarily deep.

“Excuse me?” She can’t believe he’s really doing this. “Who is this?”

“Have you never watched a scary movie before? You should know asking that is a death wish,” he teases. “But you never answered my question.”

“How do you even know I’m watching TV?” She asks, it’s not like the sound is up. She looks out the window to make sure he’s not out there, completely forgetting that they have security cameras inside and he can access them on his real cellphone.

“You’re on the couch, in a cute little black tank top and shorts… aren’t you cold? It’s October.”

“How do you know that?”

“I know a lot more than you think,” he taunts.

“Then shouldn’t I know something about you too?” She asks, turning it back on him. “Don’t you think that’s fair?”

“Hmm… I suppose it would, but isn’t part of the fun all in the mystery?”

“You must know my husband used to be an FBI agent so—

“Ah yes, agent Hotchner,” he laughs. “Retired, haunted, old man, Aaron Hotchner.”

“He can still kick your ass,” she assures. Both scaring this character and stroking his ego at the same time. “And enjoy doing it.”

“We’ll see about that.” He says before hanging up.

It makes shivers run down her spine and all the hair on her body stands tall. If she didn’t know this was actually him, it would be incredibly terrifying. Yet for some reason, she’s more turned on right now than anything.

When he gets home that night, she’s still in the living room. Waiting for him. He puts his bag down, kicks off his shoes and hangs up his coat before making his way over to her and crashing down onto the couch. He lays his head into her lap and she brushes his hair back, “tough class?”

He nods, “they asked so many questions. It’s literally not even that hard.”

“Awe,” she sympathizes. “Not everyone is as smart as you, handsome.”

“How was your night?” He looks up at her with a smile.

“Good, Jack drove us to get some ice cream tonight and he was actually really good at it this time and then I got a weird phone call…”

“Huh,” he raises his brows quickly. “Weird… do you know who it was?”

“No idea.”

“Well, just keep an eye on it,” he advises. The profiler in him wants to say don’t answer the phone again but the game was too fun. He wanted her to answer again, he wanted to tease her, he wanted to make it as real as possible.

This was going to be a fun week.

—

She gets a call every night that week. The calls last anywhere from a minute to 10, depending on how long she can keep him talking in his sexy deep voice. She switches into a cute little night dress before their next conversation and she sits on the couch facing their security camera with the hem of her nightgown pushed up a bit too high… giving him a show.

“So…” she asks, wishing she had an old corded phone to twirl around her fingers. “What do you look like? Are you cute at least?”

He snickers, “That’s your question today? Really?”

“Yep, I mean if you’re going to stalk me and find me and make me yours, you better be hot,” she teases him.

“I’m… average, I guess?” He struggles to compliment himself.

“I figured you wouldn’t be as handsome as my husband…”

He sighs, “I’m going to make you pay for all these comments.”

She laughs, “okay… I’m sure.”

“Taunting a psychopath is never a good—

“That’s a lie, I know from my husband that sometimes taunting them is what they need. Sometimes they’re such losers that this is all an act, pissing them off makes them slip up and expose themself… so is this all an act? Are you secretly a loser who needs attention? What, did your mommy not love you enough growing up? Or was it daddy beating you that made you this way?”

“You’ve got two days,” he reminds her. “I’m going to get you.”

He hangs up and she smirks, she loves riling him up like this. She knows that once he gets his hands on her, once he has that mask on, she’s in for the ride of her life.

—

Sure enough, the Friday before Halloween, Jack heads out to a party and says he’ll be sleeping over at a friend's house that night. His phone is charged, his costume is on and his ride is about to pull up to their driveway.

“You remember you can call either one of us, at any time of the night, and we will come get you,” she reminds him. “No matter what state you’re in… I understand that drinking is something you’ll probably do tonight, and I won’t tell your dad, but go easy. Have water between beers and don’t drink from a cup you didn’t pour yourself or one you left unattended no matter how much time passed. And if you feel weird, uncomfortable or you just want to come home, you call me.”

“I know, Mom,” he assures her, looking at her with that annoyed teenager look.

“And drugs… please, please be careful. Peer pressure is real, being curious is okay, but don’t do anything intense. Smoking copious amounts of weed before the age of 27 can stop your brain from fully forming and other drugs can literally kill you because you have no idea what they’re mixed with—

“Mom, I’m not going to do drugs tonight,” he cuts her off, looking as serious as his father can.

“Okay,” she lets out a deep breath just as the headlights shine through their stained glass front door. “Give me a hug,” she says, arms open and waiting for him.

He steps into her space and holds her tight, “I love you, be safe.”

“I love you too, I’ll text you when I’m on my way home tomorrow.”

“And before you go to bed too, please? Even if its just a heart emoji, I want to know you’re going to bed, I don’t care what time it comes in,” she stares him down before letting him pull away. “I love you.”

“Okay, okay,” he smiles. “I’ve got it, I’m going now. Have a good night.”

“Oh, I will,” she smirks.

“Gross!” He calls out as he heads out the door, skips down the stairs and heads out to his friend's mom's car. She waves at them, gets a wave from the driver back and then they’re gone.

She locks the door once he’s gone, turns off the lights downstairs and heads up to her room where she changes into the new lingerie she bought at Aaron’s request and she lights a few candles around her room. She grabs the mask from her closet as well as a black silk robe and black boxer briefs and she lays them all on the table in the entryway downstairs with a note that says “Wear me.”

She goes to the kitchen and gets them some snacks for after, a couple water bottles and his bottle of scotch with a glass in case that’s what he wants after. He needs to be able to relax and unwind and know he did a good job and he’s not a bad guy for divulging in this role-play for her. If anything, he’s the best man in the world being able to do this for his wife.

And she waits in her room.

The first call she gets is from Aaron, 10 minutes after his class ends.

“Hey baby,” she answers quickly.

“Are we still on for tonight?” He double-checked, making sure nothing had changed between his leaving for work and now.

“Mhm, I’m waiting for Mr. Ghostface to arrive,” she whispers, voice low and dark. Making sure he knows just how ready she is.

“And you remember the safe word?”

She hums again, “I do, and we can both use it, remember?”

“I will if I need to,” he says and she can hear the smile on his face. “Did Jack leave okay?”

“Yeah, about an hour ago,” she assures. “We’re all good to go unless he calls and needs to come home.”

“I’m sure he won’t,” Aaron’s positive. “Can you do me a favour?”

“Sure?”

“You put my mask downstairs?”

“I did,” she smirks. “And an outfit…”

“Oh, okay,” he sounds so excited. “Can you put my handcuffs down there too?”

“Are they in the safe?” She double-checks, cause the last time she saw them they were in his bedside drawer…

“They are…”

She gets up from the bed, goes into their closet and presses her thumb to the sensor, he could probably hear the lock click as the door swings open. He has 2 guns and his cuffs right there, sitting on top of their important documents and her most expensive jewelry.

“I’ll leave them downstairs for you,” she says as she takes them out and shuts the safe once more. “Anything else you want?”

“Just you,” he teases.

“okay well, I’ve got another phone call I’m expecting, so I should let you go,” she says while heading back down the stairs.

“Can we just pause for a sec?” He asks.

“Mhm, what’s up?”

“So you still want me to pretend to break in? We’re still doing everything we talked about?” He asks again, obviously nervous.

“Hey, we don’t have to do any of it if you’ve changed your mind?” She assures. “I mean it, we can just do something vanilla tonight, we don’t have to do a scene.”

“I want to make you happy—

“I won’t have fun if you don’t,” she resets the boundaries. “You tell me what you want to do and that’s what we’ll do.”

“I’m going to call you from outside, I’m going to make my way in and I’m going to sneak up the stairs and find you in the bedroom where I’m going to restrain you by cuffing you to the bedpost and have my way with you,” he lays out the series of events. “We’ll have sex, I’ll free you, I’ll take care of you until you calm down and then I would like some cuddles.”

“I have water and snacks in here waiting for us to be done, would you like a bath after?” She asks.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” he says and she can hear him smile again. “Okay, good. Good, we’re ready to go.”

“I love you,” she whispers. “I’m so excited to try this.”

“I love you more,” he reminds her and then he’s off. They say their final goodbye and she heads back upstairs to her room to await her hell prince.

—

She sees his headlights as he pulls into the driveway but she doesn’t hear his door shut, they just go out. That’s when her phone rings again.

“You again,” she teases right away. “Let me guess you know I’m home alone and you just wanna ‘talk’?”

“I just wanted to hear your pretty voice one last time,” he says with his deepest voice, it’s almost a growl.

Chills run down her spine once more. He’s way too good at this.

“What?” She asks, fear on her tongue.

“I’m going to miss you when you’re gone.”

“I’m not going anywhere?”

“You’re right… I’m coming to you.”

The line clicks and all she’s left with is the sound of her heartbeat in her ears… and her panties. Well, lack thereof. This set didn’t really leave much to the imagination. It was perfect to tear off. Easy to cut if need be. And currently, soaked.

Her ears feel like they’re on fire as she tries her hardest to listen to what’s going on downstairs. Either he’s being extra quiet or he’s not in the house yet. But he will be. He’ll change and he’ll climb the stairs and push her door open and take her. And she’ll take him. She’ll take him so good he’ll want to wear this fucking mask all the goddamn time.

And then the stairs of their century home creak, one by one as he climbs them ever so slowly. Slower than ever before. They creek and pop, they whine and echo down the hall towards her bedroom. There are only two times that these stairs sounding this awful are so helpful and it’s during role-plays like this and when their teenager sneaks out at night.

He makes his way down the hallway, towards the bedroom door and he looks through the crack. Mask on, that classic screaming, white face shines through the dark. He pushes the door open, making it squeal on rusty hinges. They really need to fix those.

“Aaron?” She calls out.

“Think again,” he teases, voice muffled behind the mask but still deep.

She scoots up the bed, drawing her knees in closer to her body as she cowers away. Checking him out in the meantime. The way he’s hard in his boxers, how his robe opens to show off his cute tummy and salt and pepper treasure trail… he’s delicious and all hers.

He creeps forward, “Don’t you know the rules to survival in a horror movie?” She shakes her head in fear. “Rule number one, sex equals death.”

“I wasn’t—

“But you were ready for it,” he points at her with his free hand and she notices how he’s gripping his cuffs with the other. He starts to twirl the cuff around his finger while chuckling deep from within. “What a shame he leaves a sexy thing like you home all by yourself most nights…”

“He’ll be home any—

“No, he won’t,” he taunts, and she can hear the smirk on his face. “I’ll be long finished with you by the time he comes back.”

He pounced on the bed, struggled with her to get a cuff on her one wrist and bring them both up to the headboard so he could loop the cuffs around the bars and trap her there. “You’re mine.”

“Please don’t do this,” she begs, trying her hardest to stay in character.

“Boo hoo,” he says, really not giving a shit what she wants or doesn’t. He straddles her waist and walks on his knees until his junk is right there near her face. “You’re going to take what I give you.”

She can’t help sticking her tongue out, wetting the fabric of his boxers as he presses his bulge against her face. Mouth watering, she can smell him under the fragrance of their detergent on his boxers. “Cock drunk already? You’re such a good little slut, no wonder that old man loves you.”

She whines, “Please Mr. Ghostface…”

“Say it,” he growls.

“Let me suck your cock, please? I need it,” she begs this time, watching him pull his boxers down just enough to expose his cock.

It stands tall, he grips himself by the base and taps it against her tongue a few times and she moans before licking at the head and taking him into her mouth. She drags her tongue along the pulsating vein on the underside of his perfect cock. He’s uncut and thick and her mouth is watering by the time she takes him between her lips. She relaxes her jaw, avoids her teeth, and uses her tongue around the head… all things he’s asked her to do for him in the past. This is the only cock she’s sucked and actually enjoyed doing it in her whole life.

The man above her grips her hair tighter and groans, “sweet christ… such a good little slut for me, taking my cock like a fucking champ.”

She hums around him, so content already but the praise mixed with the degrading words… fuck, was it ever good? She gains more confidence, sucking this man's cock like her life depends on it. Wet and sloppy, she gets drool all over her chin and it drips down her neck to pool at the pillows but she doesn’t give a fuck. She takes him deeper, letting the man fuck her throat, breathing through her nose with her eyes shut, she gags slightly but it’s bearable, she likes it… Mr. Ghostface really likes it, too, if his moans behind the mask are any indication.

He drags his hand from her hair, down the side of her face and he cups her cheek as he pulls out, hearing her whine. “If I’m going to fuck you, I’m gonna need this back,” he teases.

She whines again, “but, but?” Her voice horse and her breathing heavy.

“But nothing, you’re going to sit there and you’re going to take it like a good little whore I know you are,” he taunts.

Getting off her and the bed, he lets his boxers go and he tosses off the stupid little robe he was wearing to complete the fit. Now naked except for his mask, he pulls her beside drawer open and pulls out her vibrator and the pocket knife she keeps there for… reasons like the time she couldn’t get the knots undone when she restrained him once.

He tosses the vibe on the bed and flips the blade out of the pocket knife. She squirms, “What are you going to do with that?”

“Cut these new panties off you… never saw these in the drawer the last time I was in here,” he says, building the story more.

“You’ve…you’ve been in my home before?”

He nods, “many times.”

“You’re a sick fuck,” she spits at him.

“Mhm and you’re going to love it,” he says as he climbs back between her legs.

He drags the tip of the blade from her stomach to her hip, down her thigh and back up. “Look at the way you quiver for me, how eager you are to spread your legs… don’t tell me your FBI boyfriend taught you to just give it up like this?”

“Husband,” she corrects him.

“Boring,” he taunts. “Husbands are useless, you get boring sex and boring conversations and then they die.”

He slips the blade under the elastic on her hip and starts to cut it off. Slowly, she feels the fabric snap apart and exposes her to him. He grips the hem on her other hip and pulls her panties off the one leg he didn’t destroy. He flings them off and tosses the knife onto her bedside table but he tosses it too hard and it slides all the way off, behind the table and almost takes the lamp out with it. “Oops,” he laughs from deep within.

He takes the vibrator back in his hand and turns it on, “I can’t eat you out without showing you my face, so I guess I’m going to have to make you cum a few times with this…”

“Fuck,” she whines, legs spread as she arches closer to the sound of the buzzing.

On the lowest setting, he drags the head of the vibe over her inner thigh and over her hip bone. Up her stomach and then onto her hardened nipple. She whines again, “please? Please Mr. Ghostface?”

He hums, “Be patient, slut.”

He runs it over her other nipple, watching as she tosses her head back and bites her lip, hard. She tugs at the cuffs, making them click against the metal bed poles as she soots down the bed, trying to get closer to him, begging for some friction where she needs it most.

He slowly brings the vibe back down her body and presses it to her clit a bit roughly, he presses the button to speed it up, putting it on the second speed and hearing her yelp. “oh my god?” She grinds against it, “holy fuck.”

“Don’t be afraid to make some noise, we’re all alone here tonight,” he assures. “And if we’re not… if your husband walks in on us I want him to hear how much of a slut you’ve been for me. Let him know what you want can’t be achieved by him.”

She moans again, it’s oddly hot pretending to cheat on him… he leans in closer to her, holding the vibe to her clit as he hovers over her. She leans forward, wanting to kiss him even though he’s in a mask, she whines, “Need you,” she whispers. “Please?”

“Cum for me first,” he says, shaking his head. “I want you soaked and trembling when I slip into you. And if you’re good, maybe I’ll un-cuff you for it.”

“Oh god,” she arches her hips again, pressing herself against the vibrator even more, “Oh please?”

“Close already?” He teases, pressing the button again so it can go as fast as possible. “Go on whore, you can do it. Cum for me.”

Her thighs are absolutely trembling as she gets closer. With her eyes tightly shut and her jaw dropped, she lets out breathy moans and rides the head of the vibrator. He’s so close to her, pressed to her side with his hard cock resting on her hip, “you’re doing so good, baby, come on, it’s right there,” he praises her, letting his character slip a bit.

She accidentally says his name as the dam breaks, she cums with a quake, “Oh my god, oh fuck,” she whines as he keeps holding the vibrator to her clit and she can’t pull away from him.

He snickers, “There she is, I love that noise you make when you cum on this thing.”

“How—

“You keep asking stupid questions,” he cuts her off. “What part of I’ve been stalking you can’t you get through your thick skull?”

“Please, please stop?” She begs. “S’too much.”

He pulls back just for a second, causing her to sigh and then he presses the vibrator right back to her. “You really thought I’d let you stop at just one? When I know you like to cum at least 3 times… that’s why you got this toy, isn’t it? Cause that old man you’re shackled to can’t go more than one round without getting tired.”

“Fuck you,” she spits, whining and grinding against the toy in her overstimulation.

“Oh, you will,” he whispers. “I’m going to get you all pliant and dumb and then I’m going to flip you over and fuck you senseless like the little pet that you are. Maybe I’ll even keep you forever? Get you a cute little collar and a leash and make you mine.”

She moans again, bucking her hips towards the feeling, he knows it takes her a bit longer to get to the second one sometimes. So he keeps talking. “I know just how much you like that, being fucked in doggy. You like being held down, feeling my balls clap against your ass while I fuck you deep and hard. When I push my weight against you… and when I wrap my hand around your throat to draw you in for a kiss.”

She doesn’t give any warning, she just comes right then and it’s clearly a shock to her too. She shakes like mad and not a single coherent sound leaves her mouth. She’s completely wrecked, cock-drunk and ready for more. He turns off the vibrator and lets her relax for just a moment, he runs his hand over her stomach and up to her boobs, cupping it and rubbing his thumb over her nipple, making her twitch again. “Shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you…”

She just nods, trying to catch her breath, she can’t find any words to say.

“If I un-cuff you, are you going to run away?” He asks, watching her shake her head. “Didn’t think so… not like you could with your jello legs.”

She smiles, full of euphoria, “yeah…”

He heads over to his own nightside table, the key is in a little dish where he puts his watch and ring at night. Although, his ring is downstairs tonight, to add to the ambiance that this is a stranger fucking her and not her husband in a mask.

He’s quick to get her out of the cuffs and he soothes over the ache in her wrists. “You okay?” He asks, his voice soft and low, breaking character slightly.

She nods, “you? It’s not too hot in there?”

“It’s fine,” he nods too. “Ready?”

She lets him roll her over, he gets her on her knees with her ass in the air and pushes her face into the pillow. “It’s time for the ride of your life.”

He taps his cock against her ass cheek, making it jiggle. He loves her curves and her flub and the way she shakes and jiggles and how he has all this skin to hold onto while he fucks her like this. He grips her cheeks, spreading them apart to see how much of her cum has slipped down from one hole to the other, she’s glistening and wet and so, so ready for him to fuck her. He grinds his cock between her folds, using her slick to coat himself and glide back and forth, teasingly, before he sticks it in.

He doesn’t give any warning, he simply rams his cock into her, making her gasp. “Oh, you feel better than I imagined…” He pulls out slightly and slams back inside again and again, not giving her any time adjust to it. “Been obsessed with the idea of fucking this pussy from the moment I first laid eyed on you. Knew you’d take me so well.”

She whines into the pillow, reaching her hand back, he holds it and goes to reach for the other. Holding both her hands, making her hold herself up with her core muscles as he fucked into her. Her tits dangle and shake with the force of his thrusts, she makes the most whorish moans and gasps. When she gets tired, she pushes her face back into the mattress and arches her back even more.

She mumbles into the pillow and he grips her hair, pulling her back, “what?”

“Harder!” She eggs him on.

Chuckling, “Such a good whore…” he teases. He reaches for the vibrator and turns it on. He slips it underneath her and he pushes on her back so that she can grind against it as he fucks her harder. Absolutely ramming into her, she goes feral for it. Making noises he hasn’t ever heard from her before as the bed hits the wall at a jackhammering rhythm.

She grips the sheets like her life depends on it, drooling into the mattress where her face is pressed, she screams as he hits her cervix hard. She’s so close, he can feel it by the way she clenches and sucks in him deeper, the sounds she’s making and the way she trembles. It’s intoxicating. He’s fucking addicted to it. He’s going to need to do this to her more often if she likes it this much…

She feels so good, but it’s everything else that’s got him so close to cumming deep inside of her. His rhythm changes as he gets closer. He ruts against her faster, making her ass shake even more as he chases his high. He’s breathing heavily, at a loss for words, but he knows how much she gets off on his voice. “Right there,” he pants. “Right fucking there, take it. Take it, whore. Oh, fuck, you feel so good. So fucking good for me.”

She says his name again, chanting it this time, “Aar!” She screams as she cums for the 3rd time tonight.

He fucks her through it, right there with her. He can feel her getting wetter than ever before like she’s managed to squirt and that gets him. He starts to cum, feeling it rush through his body as he fills her up. She lets out another moan, feeling him fuck his cum deeper into her a few times before he drops down onto her. She’s strong enough to push herself up and scoot up a bit so she’s not trapped on top of the vibrator and they both sigh. He takes off the mask and throws it to the side, slipping out of her, he lays on her side with his arm slung around her. She turns to the side, crawls over him and cups his face in her hands. She kisses him, hard. His hands roam her back as she swipes her tongue over his bottom lip, silently asking for more.

She’s always been a kisser during sex, it really killed her to not be able to kiss him during that. It was so hot… it was everything she wanted and now it was her turn to thank him. She pushes his sweaty hair back and hums into his mouth, she kisses the side of his lips and then his jaw over to his ear. “That was everything…”

“I did good?” He asks, fucked out and dropping slowly.

“So, so good, baby,” she praises. “I loved every second of it. You’re so good to me, you always do what I ask for. I love you.”

“I love you,” he whispers back, holding her closer with his big hands cradling her back. She kisses his neck once more and goes to sit up but he wants to cuddle just a little longer. “Stay.”

“Okay,” she rests against him, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. “We’ll clean up when you’re ready.”

He runs his fingers up and down her back, she traces a heart over his chest with her nail and smiles. She’s so relaxed, so tired and so, so happy to be with him. “You’re amazing, Aar-bear.”

“You’re… you’re everything,” he says at a loss for words. “I can’t believe how loud you got?”

She laughs, a little embarrassed, “well, we usually have a kid in the house so I can’t get like that… and if we hit his wall like that at night he’d lose his mind.”

Aaron laughs, “Yeah, I’ve gotta check and see if we chipped the paint…”

“When he goes to college we’ll have to put some foam on the back of the headboard,” she teases. “We can fuck like this all the time next year.”

He lets out a sigh, “Yeah… we definitely need to do more role plays.”

“And you can pick them too, you know?” She says, sitting up to look at him. “Anything you want, we’ll do that next.”

“Right now I just want to have a bath with you and then change the sheets and go to sleep,” he says with a smile.

“Okay,” she agrees. She gets up carefully, a little sore and she’s definitely going to be feeling it tomorrow… she takes the vibe off the bed and finally turns it off, throwing it back into her night table to worry about later. There’s a huge wet spot on the bed where it was. “Did I…”

He smirks, “I think you did… it was hot.”

“Wow,” she’s shocked and amazed.

“You go start the bath, I’ll strip the sheets,” he offers. “Put in whatever you want.”

“Do you want a drink?” She asks. “I brought your scotch up, too.”

“You really are the most perfect woman,” he praises with a smile.

She picks up his mask from the floor, it landed pretty close to where her underwear ended up. She gathers all their clothes and tosses them into the dirty laundry, but his mask… his mask goes into the closet where it will stay until they need it again.

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Ghostface Hotch

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[strawb3rryscorpio]

Could you just write like ANYTHING that’s Dominic x reader because there is a severe dom fic drought rn

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒, dominic fike x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and your boyfriend get matching tattoos 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, sexual jokes

You and Dom had been discussing matching tattoos for months now. You loved the idea, but the only issue was that neither of you could agree on what tattoo to get. Well, that had been the case until earlier today, when your boyfriend finally compromised on getting a cherry stem with two cherries as your tattoo. Cherries were symbolic to your relationship; you had them on your first date, and since then they always reminded you of your relationship. Dominic liked the idea behind it, but he argued that the tattoo should be more corny and obvious. But after hours of reasoning and many puppy eyes later, Dominic just couldn’t say no, and had finally accepted defeat to those damn cherries.

"Dom, what am I supposed to wear to a tattoo appointment?" you asked, looking at yourself in the mirror, attempting to think of an outfit in your head. “Nothing at all if it was up to me," he deadpanned, scrolling mindlessly through his phone.

You rolled your eyes before turning to him. “Dominic, I'm being serious," you scolded, a wide smirk appearing on his face. “I am the most serious I've probably ever been." You groaned in response, walking into the closet in search of an outfit.

"Okay, how's this?" you asked. He looks up from his phone and eyes you up and down. "Perfect," he grins. No matter what outfit you put on, it was perfect to him, meaning he was zero help.

“You say it’s ‘perfect’ every time,” you sighed, knowing stuff like this riles him up. “What else do you want me to say?” he asks and you just walk over and plant a kiss to his forehead in response and he wipes it away jokingly.

You turnto face the mirror, having to trust your own opinion in this situation. "Is it too booby?" you ask yourself, caressing the top of your tank top.

The look on his face immediately tells you he’s thinking of another sly remark. "Nothing is ever too booby," you giggled and walked over to your dresser to grab your purse.

As you checked your phone, replying to the texts you missed while getting ready, you heard the sound of one of Dominic's notorious dramatic sighs. "What're you so loud for?" you teasingly question as you put on your earrings. You hear him get off the bed and walk over to you, gently placing his arms around your waist and nuzzling his head into the back of your neck.

"'Cause I'm bored," he mumbles into your neck, barely audible. "I've been watching Reddit confessions for like three hours." The buzz of his words on your neck send a chill down your spine.

"It's not my fault you were ready two hours ago," you joke, turning to face him, placing a soft kiss on his lips. "Plus, you love those Reddit confessions,"

.

"Still set on those cherries?" he asks, pulling into the parking lot of the tattoo parlour. "Yes, one hundred percent set," you smacked your glossy lips together to emphasize your words.

You walk towards the building, hand in hand. "I'm nervous," you admit, squeezing his hand extra hard. “Why? You'll be okay and it’ll be a quick one,” Dominic replies and rubs your back for reassurance. "Plus you should be perfectly fine since you got to pick the tattoo." He turns to you a smirk plastered onto his face.

"I didn't pick it. We agreed on it," you emphasize, stepping into the parlour as Dominic holds the door open. "Yeah, yeah, whatever," he says before wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

"Hi, we're here for an appointment at four thirty," you smile at the lady at the counter. "Oh, yes! A couples tattoo, that’s fun!" She exclaims pulling out a clipboard and some pens for you to sign with

"Yeah, we've been talking about it for a while, and we were both free today, so we were like, why not?" you explained as Dominic signed the waiver. "What are you guys planning on getting?" she asks, as Dominic hands the clipboard to you.

"We're getting cherries," Dominic answers as you continued skimming through the waiver. "We had them for dessert on our first date." The woman’s face softens at Dominic's reasoning for the tattoo. "That is adorable," she grins.

“He said it was not corny enough,” you explain handing the clipboard back over to her, as Dominic sends you a playful glare. “Well for the record, I think it’s super corny” she replies.

You turned your head towards Dominic before mumbling, "Told you.”

“Okay, you’re all set! I'll have the chairs set up in a couple of minutes," she announces before walking off into the back.

The both of you take a seat, and you lay your head on his shoulder. "Dom?" you whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear you. "Yes, my love?" he looks down at you, eyes wide and attentive, ready to listen to whatever you have to say.

"If you really don't want to get the cherries, we can do something else. I don't mind, I promise," You look up, immediately reading his face for a response.

He lets out the slightest chuckle. "Baby, if I really didn't want those cherries, I would've been on your ass about it,” he smiles, brushing his hands through your hair. "And plus, I'd get your face tatted on my forehead, so I have zero issues with some little cherries," he adds, causing you to chuckle.

"You're very corny, you know that?" you say after a few seconds of silence. "It's my specialty, really," he replies and places a kiss on your head.

A few minutes later the woman comes back out. "We're ready for you two!" She calls out and you stand up as he grabs your hand for support to get up, though he really doesn’t need it.

“Ready?" he asks from a few feet behind you. "Readier than ever!" you grin.

You decide to go first. Dominic sits beside you on the chair, holding your free hand, and squeezing it occasionally. You watch Dominic converse with the tattoo artist and can help but smile at him. A big, goofy smile that displayed nothing but love and commitment. And you think to yourself as the tattoo artists sanitizes your arm; what is committing if not getting a matching tattoo?

—————————

🪽h speaks: guys i’m not very happy with this it was kind of rushed but i was eager to post something. i hope you enjoy and thank you so much for 300 followers!! love you guys :)

[carmesi-butterfly]

childhood nostalgia with enhypen. part 1

this turned out super shitty im sorry t__t it's prolly my first time writing since march lolzies despite everything i hope you like it!!

enhypen's heeseung! jungwon! sunoo! sunghoon! + gn! reader. word count 798. warnings none. not proofread.

heeseung: searching "aliens caught on camera" on youtube.

“are you being serious? this is obviously fake!” your words were accompanied by a small giggle, “why do all these videos are recorded with shitty cameras? i can't even identify what's going on”

“what do you mean by fake?!” his indignation was more than clear, “look at how the flying saucer approaches the person; it's pretty visible” the video played on repeat a few times, pointing at this apparent ‘ovni.’

“where did you find this video? it has only 200 views, don't tell me you've been scrolling through youtube for so long that you started to find videos that only you and the person who posted it saw”

“that doesn't matter; see this one,” he said while clicking on another video, changing it to another with better quality and more illumination. “there! look at it! it's right there, imagine you're just walking by a lonely road trying to go home and an ovni starts following you”

if it was anyone else saying something like this to you you would've just laughed, but knowing your boyfriend and his beliefs, this was really serious, his big deer eyes looking at you in search of an opinion on the matter while putting the most unhinged and undiscovered alien videos of the internet.

jungwon: playing love testers.

It was your idea at first, while recalling your times as a kid with free and unlimited access to the internet the memory of you using those famous pages for kids that “calculated” your affinity with your crush by just putting their name or zodiac sign popped on your mind like a popcorn, you had to find those webs and use them with your boyfriend, it was a life or death matter!

“seventy percent?! this is not accurate, it should say one hundred…” you said in distress as if this ‘love calculating’ page would define the future of your relationship.

“I will try using our full names,” suggested Jungwon, who in the beginning was kind of reluctant about this, maybe because he wasn't interested or found it boring, but in the end, it was just a silly activity he could do with his partner. What he didn't count on was that it would become his mission to reach the hundred percent in every net he could find, reaching to the point of finding the webs you frequented as a kid to do the same. “yoi! I told you, a hundred percent! Now our names and zodiac signs are compatible.” The enormous amount of pride his expression demonstrated couldn't be described by words.

sunoo: learning vocaloid’s mirror dances.

a mirrored dance tutorial of ‘romeo and cinderella’ by hatsune miku sounded on repeat in one of the practice rooms of hybe’s building; the chorus could be heard on repeat, accompanied by your clumsy movements and the frustrated noises you would make every time you got something wrong, luckily, when you were about to reach the last level of insanity and give up on learning the choreography, your boyfriend came to your rescue! and with a lot of groceries from the convenience store.

“sunoo! how am i supposed to do this step? i'm trying but i can't get it right…” your defeated look was funny to see by your partner; doing this was his idea as a ‘fun activity’ to do and bond, but your poor ability to dance was making it difficult for you. fortunately, you have an amazing boyfriend and dance partner who will help you with everything you need!

“ooh, which part? i will help you”

the young couple stood bending in front of the ipad watching what parts were more difficult for you, and after rewatching it a few times to get the movements right sunoo proceeded to teach you everything step by step, he was patient with you because of your inexperience on the topic but couldn't stop himself from teasing you a few times if your motions were awkward.

sunghoon: playing dance dance revolution.

the levels of frustration and humiliation both of you felt couldn't even be described in words, seeing a kid that couldn't reach the ten-year-old mark publicly beating your asses in this dancing machine felt embarrassing.

“you are an idol, where are your dancing abilities?!” you muttered to your partner, who was more than immersed in the child’s dancing.

“the company should recruit him” was the only thing his mouth dropped.

“i can't believe it,” your sigh took sunghoon out of his trance. it was kind of fun seeing the pout that decorated your face, expressing your emotions through it.

“let's try again, but i don't think you will be capable of following my pace” such a cocky comment could only leave your partner’s lips, especially now with his ‘arrogant’ mood.