#lots of ups and downs but the ups have far surpassed the downs

[extervus]

OOPS forgot to take pictures for my one year anniversary on testosterone cause I went on a walk with my bf and then ate a lasagna garfield style so uhmm here have some pics from the last few months ok?

Featuring @binesetakeout as that sexy lil binch in the top left corner

[serendipitous-mage]

......... who's gonna tell him ... .. ill do it @markiplier

[cmaidaartworkblog]

This video showcases my Blender model of the planet that the Scud aliens call home, the fourth and final world I've mapped out for @jayrockin's "Runaway to the Stars" project. A *lot* of maps were created in service of this final render, and also in service of presenting the special qualities of this planet. I intend to show you as many of these as I can under the cut, and also in subsequent posts focusing on some of the more interstitial, ancillary maps and figures that played a part in producing the primary maps you'll see in this main post.

Before I show the first maps I made for this project, what you see below are the satellite-style maps for the Equinoxes and Solstices, in order of (Northern) Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter, the latter serving as the texture for the Blender object you saw in the video.

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With that matter covered, our next focus is this project's foundation: Geology. While I didn't spin as elaborate a tectonic history for this planet as I did for the Ayrum commission, I did work out as much detail as I could for the more recent geological activity, to set the stage for the elevation data - including a narrower focus on the coastal shallows that host the Scud populations.

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Once I could move on to climate, my first step was finding this planet's relative Insolation, which I managed thanks to @reversedumbrella's code and coaching. With an obliquity of only 16 degrees, this planet's yearly maximum Insolation levels stick close to the equator, compared to pole-to-pole oscillation we see on Earth

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Having a rough sense of where heat would concentrate seasonally and how the landmasses would deflect water in light of the planet's retrograde spin, I was able to set down the bi-annual ocean currents (Northern Summer above and Northern Winter below), then the monthly water temperatures pushed around by said currents, and finally -after factoring in many other considerations- the monthly land temperatures as well (combined in the second gif)

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Next came the seasonal air pressure maps and subsequent wind patterns (my first time creating those from scratch), which later factored into the precipitation maps. The incredible temperatures at the largest continent's interior make a desert of most of it, and the other interiors are fairly dry too, but all that heat on the equatorial ocean generates a *lot* of evaporation which ends up coming down elsewhere.

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With temperatures and precipitation mapped out for each month, I was able to find how the accumulation and melt of ice and snow played out, too. Given such a hot equator it's surprising to see freezing temperatures hold out in some places, but low obliquity and high elevation shield what areas they can, it seems.

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All this monthly data was then painstakingly combined and compared and plugged into equations to produce maps of discrete climate zones, using both the Köppen (left) and Trewartha (right) classification systems. The higher latitudes see some overlap with Earth's conditions, but the Tropics...

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I never really finished the map I wanted to make with my own loosely customized classification system, but I *did* get as far as this breakdown of the areas that sometimes surpass 56.7 degrees Celsius, Earth's record for highest surface temperature ever directly measured. And as you can see, that earthly record is broken by a *significant* fraction of this planet's surface, and far exceeded by the equatorial continent's deep interior

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The final phase of this project dealt with creating satellite maps of this planet's surface (which you saw at the top of this post), which started with a map of dry and submerged substrate, then a density map of the vegetation that sits atop it, then the colors of that vegetation under annual average conditions (demonstrating how they would appear in-person, rather than the area's appearance from orbit), and finally plant colors under seasonal conditions (same conceit as previous). In concert with the seasonal ice and snow maps, it was the four maps in the last sequence which were overlaid on the Substrate map, using the plant density map as raster masks, to produce the final Satellite-Style maps.

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This planet's sophonts being a marine species, it was then worth focusing on the conditions underwater, which included monthly seafloor temperatures (first gif), annual discharge of sediment from rivers (magenta in the 2nd gif), and seasonal upwelling of nutrients from deeper water (blue in the 2nd gif).

The creation of all my maps seen in this post was possible thanks to Photopea, which has been my go-to for several years now. The resolution kinda got crunched when I uploaded these here, so when I share them on Reddit later I'll add those links under this. These have also already been posted on Twitter, which you can see here if you like. Thanks for scrolling all the way down here!

[minus-plus-zer0]

Studying in Bakugou's Dorm Headcanons

So Bakugou's dorm has never been shown in the anime. Nobody knows what it looks like...

But YOU'VE seen it.

YOU'VE SEEN IT ALL.

Sometime after you two met, he invited you into his room.

He likely wanted to show off how smart he was in class by tutoring you privately.

But you're no fool! Although there are some subjects you struggle with, there are other subjects in which you can go toe-to-toe with the man in terms of smarts! This man isn't just taking care of you, you're taking care of each other.

But anyways, you're pretty shocked when you first step into his dorm.

For starters, it's very well organized and "smart".

It's a little modern, no bullshit strewn about, no cliche hidden naughty magazines (like Bakugou would ever care about that stuff), and maybe there's some All Might paraphernalia thrown around the place.

He's a little insulted that you're surprised by it being so organized. "You thought I'd be messy or something?"

"Yes."

The whole bedroom is very no-nonsense. You tease him for being a little sterile in his decorations, which irks him a lot considering he brought you here to impress you.

His room likely includes a lot of darker colors, maybe black and even red or orange. It probably has some nice darker brown hues for the wooden furniture as a fitting tertiary color. You tease him again for the room being a bit on the darker side in terms of colors (dark like his souuuul, you say) and again, he's mad. You also pay that no mind. You just say he's cute when he's pouty and move on.

You're both at his desk studying, him in his usual desk chair while you had to bring your much more cuter and comfier chair over from your room.

He admires your knowledge and work ethic but also envies you when you get something he doesn't immediately get. He's simultaneously trying to surpass you but also get closer to you. He's totally torn and it's definitely your fault.

Sometimes you give him advice on homework and purposefully lean in far too close to him and his notebook. You're secretly watching him get totally flustered by your presence but he'll still try to hide his embarrassment.

He'll bark at you that you're going to suffocate him by breathing all of HIS personal air space but he'll never push you away. If you back away he'll just lean back over to your side and he'll smirk, saying, "Now who's suffocating who, huh?"

You scoff and lightly push him away in retaliation for what he said and he pouts sadly. He says he didn't finish hearing your explanation on how to deal with his homework problem and that you can check his notebook IF YOU MUST.

You do help him out, but you don't lean back over again. Irritated, he sidles up to you instead. You pat him on the head to calm him down.

It's a miracle that you two get any work done. You spend the next couple of hours in his bedroom just teasing each other and hanging out. Although you like to banter and bicker a lot, you both are great at supporting one another too. He especially likes it when you praise his hard work.

You originally thought Bakugou would get mad at you for getting distracted, but you noticed that much of his homework was already finished before you even stepped into the room. He probably could've finished it on his own, but he'd rather have the company.

Luckily for him, you feel the same. Now if only you two would just tell each other how you feel...

There'll always be time for that on a later day. Because fortunately for you, he's inviting you back over this weekend! But this time, you'll be studying at his childhood home.

[enanansbbg]

Anhane’s relationship, and it’s complexity:

this was originally uploaded onto twt, but I wanted to reupload it here because I was very proud of this analysis, so please enjoy and feel free to add anything I may have missed or skipped over!

With that being said, here we go! ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

Let’s start with the basics. The pure power of their aibouness, and its connections to vivid street.

To begin, you must understand what a partner is in VBS terms. In this case, it’s ‘a person who brings out parts of you never knew existed’.

In relations to Anhane, this is based off pure raw emotions. This is shown through An’s abandonment issues and Kohane’s want to make her heart pound.

Kohane wants to recreate that feeling she felt when she first heard An singing inside of An, to ‘make her heart pound’, while An’s abandonment issues cause her to fear Kohane’s rapid growth may lead to Kohane abandoning her.

This also plays into a certain factor about Kohane and the idea of her and angst, I believe.

Many people want Kohane to have some kind of angst event, especially related to her backstory, but that would go against all her motives.

See, Kohane’s pure movies for pursuing music—for working to surpass Rad Weekend all tie back to An. It was hearing An singing at WG that made her heart pound and An asking her to be her singing partner that caused her to even consider music as an option.

From here, their relationship develops into a lot more, and it’s when the idea of partners ‘bringing out an ugly side of you’ comes to play.

You can see even in the maim story An not seeing Kohane as an equal. It only gets called out and resolved in Singing in Sync.

Singing In Sync, ep. 1 and 3

🎧: “In the unlikely event that something does go wrong, I’ll cover for you and get you back on track, okay?”

…

🎧: “I failed as her partner…I couldn’t protect her…

…

🎧: “I mean, she’s my partner…And I wanted to guide her so that she could sing without worrying…”

…

🥞: “You don’t think of Kohane as one of the team.”

An telling Kohane “I’ll protect you if you mess up” subconsciously puts the idea into Kohane’s head “I’m not good enough, so I’ll probably mess up” This is what caused the entire issue in SIS to begin with.

But it’s once An tells her “you can protect me too” that Kohane is able to subconsciously think “I have the power to make her heart pound too”

Singing in Sync, ep. 8

🎧: “If I miss a cue at the next event…”

🎧: “Could you cover for me?”

🐹: “An… Sure, I can do that!”

After this we get Awakening Beat. Kohane is able to come out of her shell and fully adapts the idea “I can make her heart pound too” and has a large boost in confidence because of it. An both brought her confidence down and back up in the spam of one rotation.

Awakening Beat, ep. 8

🎧: (“It’s like she’s not even the Kohane I know. Could this be because she’s completely resolved herself?”

🎧: (“But even with just that, she can really change this much…?”)

However….In the same event, An’s insecurities begin to bloom and in Bout for Beside You, An has to face them for the first time.

Awakening Beat, ep. 8, BFBY, ep. 4

🎧: (“I was just gonna tell her she did amazing… That I never knew she could sing that amazingly, but…”

🎧: (“What’s going on? I just can’t get the words out—”)

…

🎧: “Kohane is…going to leave me behind?”

Here, An realizes her and Kohane ‘perfect’ relationship is more complicated now. While Kohane’s adapted the idea of “I want to make her heart pound”, An opens to idea of “I wont he able to make her heart pound anymore” (they doki doki more than ddlc i swear)

At the end of the event, An ask Kohane the golden question. “If I were to leave somewhere far away, would we still sing together?”

BFBY, ep. 8

🎧: “But what would you do if I said that I’d be going somewhere far far away someday?”

🎧: “And I wanted to reach greater heights just like what Uncle Taiga did exploring the world. If I were to go to someplace even greater and far far away from here—”

Of course, Kohane affirms this. Naturally, Kohane takes a lot of pride in being An’s partner, being the only partner for her. (as said in ORS) She wants to keep singing with An forever.

BFBY, ep. 8

🐹: “Even so, I would want to keep singing with An-chan!”

🐹: “No matter where you go or what you become, I’d still want to be with you!”

🐹: “I want to properly stand beside you and sing with you!”

We’re gonna skip ahead a bit and jump up to KIUAN, where we get our lovely “She looks like Nagi-san” line, the line that killed every Anhane shipper in the tristate area.

But what makes this line so special? Well, for that let’s discuss what made Nagi’s death (and the lie surrounding it) so impactful.

Nagi was someone An looked up to highly. So, when she was suddenly told that Nagi moved, not even saying goodbye, to pursue her music career, it left a mark on An. Added to the fact that Nagi wasn’t returning An’s messages or calls, just completely disappeared.

Now, looking to Bout for Beside you and KIUAN, you can see the importance of these lines. An fears that Kohane will improve so much that she leaves without a word, never talks go her again and just moves on. It’s why she looks so distressed.

VOT ep. 8, BFBY, ep. 8, KIUAN ep. 7

🎧: “…Aww. I wonder what Nagi-san is doing over in America? I wish she’d give us a call at least.”

🎧: “Ah! Maybe I’ll send her a text then! I wonder if she’ll be surprised~?”

…

🎧: “But what would you do if I said that I’d be going somewhere far far away someday?”

…

🎧: “…She looks just like Nagi-san…”

And, it’s why she can’t even believe Kohane when she says just how important An is to her, how much she loves her and wants to sing with her because Nagi said the same thing and now Nagi is gone.

This manages to reach a resolve in WTWG, where An ‘fights’ Kohane, takes all those raw emotions out in a healthy way, through her song.

An’s card in WTWG is more than just ‘An takes her anger out on Kohane’, because in truth that’s not entirely what she’s doing. Instead, it’s An’s raw emotions taking form.

An wants Kohane to grow, she wants Kohane to thrive fully, but that fear of abandonment—Fear that Kohane will leave and never speak to her again makes her want to hold her close and never let her go anywhere.

So what about Kohane?

Well, starting with thr WTWG card/story, Kohane wants to be An’s best partner. As she states, ‘to make An’s heart pound’.

So, to be vulnerable here is to accept all of An’s raw emotions. Let her lean on her and feel everything because to Kohane, that makes her a worthy partner.

She says over and over throughout the fight that An is amazing, that she wants to be like her, how much it makes her heart pound. Really, it reminds me of Kohane’s colorfes story.

WTWG, ep. 7

🐹: (“An-chan…really is amazing.”)

🐹: (“…Whenever I hear An-chan sing, it really makes my heart pound like nothing else. It makes me wish I could sing like her.”)

In it, Kohane goes to Vivid Street, but everyone thinks she’s An. This happens after she thinks about what it would be like to be An, but only going through this dream does she realize that she doesn’t want to be An, she wants to be her. She wants to be An’s partner.

Colorfes Kohane ep. 1 and 2

Record Store Onee-san: “You caught me off guard, using polite like that, An-chan!”

🐹: (“Did she just say An-chan…?”)

…

🐹: (“—An-chan’s so cool and strong…and there’s times I wish I could be like her…”)

🐹: (“I have to be me! Because—”)

🎧: “—Y’know, I was thinking, your singing is always so amazing, Kohane.”

🎧: “Whenever I hear your singing, it makes my heart race. The tension rises, and it makes me feel like I have to start singing right now!”

🐹: (“Because I’m An-chan’s partner—!”)

And to be An’s partner, is to drag all those raw, vertical emotions out of An, just like she does in WTWG.

In conclusion, Anhane explosion their relationship is so complex and strong and I love it

[cloudzoro]

Doubting It | Portgas D Ace ♡

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pairings: ace x fem!reader

genre: smut (minors dni)

wc: 1.4k words (short and sweet)

cw: smut, angst, comfort, self-worth issues, undertones of unhealthy codependency, low-key sub!ace and soft dom!reader, reader puts on aces hat.

masterlist | ace masterlist

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Ace is having a bad day and a lot of self-worth issues, but luckily, he has you to bring him back down to earth.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Ace thinks you're sick. There must be something wrong with you. Why, in the name of all that's good, would a woman like you want a man like him? He can't understand it. Every kiss you place on his freckled skin leaves behind a burning feeling more intense than anything his devil fruit could cause. It's love. Complete, unbridled and undeserved.

He knows how he feels about you; this relationship surpassed frantic quickies and blushing denials long ago. Ace is loyal, headstrong and devoted. He's making the best out of your attention, fearing the day you come to your senses and realise you deserve someone with more maturity, intelligence and far less bad blood running through their veins. He waits for you to stop or change your mind, but you don't; you kiss over his abs, whispering affirmations to him.

“Ace, you're so handsome.”

“You're special to me.”

“My perfect man”

He doesn't want to believe a single word of it, but you say it with such care that even he can't question your sincerity. Your fingertip gently trails over his happy trail, making him shiver beneath you. Normally, Ace would've giggled at the feeling, but he's serious, whimpering and trying to buck his hips up into your hand. At least, if you're fucking him, he can focus on his orgasm instead of the way you make him feel outside of the bedroom.

You reach down to unbutton his shorts, tugging them and his underwear off in one go. You lick up the underside of his cock, and he almost cums on the spot. He is blessed to have you touching him at all. You take him into your mouth, warm tongue pressing against the veins on his cock.

As soon as you start to bob your head, he's seeing stars. He's blinded by pleasure, openly wailing your name loud enough for the neighbours to hear. You swallow as best you can, throat squeezing his cock just right. That one movement sends him over the edge, and he spills into your mouth. He forces his eyes to stay open as he cums, just catching you swallow down his cum before screwing his eyes shut so he can calm himself down.

He doesn't get a break though. Your voice cuts through the thick air surrounding him. The sound of your voice softly calling his name causes him to open his eyes again. He finally starts to smile again, and you lean in for a kiss.

He kisses back, strong arms holding you in place while he finally tries to love on you the way you've been doing to him. You know he needs it. You let him roll you over so you're underneath him. He stays kissing you, pressing his tongue into your mouth. His hands work on undressing you, carefully removing each piece. He pulls back from the kiss after each article is removed to compliment you. He's immediately flustered every time you accept his compliments with a sweet thank you and a comment of your own.

When you're fully naked, he pulls back to stare at you. His eyes are almost hesitant, glittering with emotion as he takes in your form.

“You're so beautiful,” He says, hands smoothing down your legs as he kneels between them.

“I'm all yours, baby.” You say, a pretty smile splitting across your face. He shakes his head and attempts to protest. How could you be all his? He's not worthy. He gets halfway through his statement when you angrily call his name. He looks into your eyes and is shaken to his core. You're upset. He's upset you. He hadn't realised how he'd been making you feel while he was so caught up in his feelings. He feels the panic rising in his chest and frantically apologises. He's cut off by you sitting up, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him back down into a hard kiss. He immediately relaxes under your touches. You cradle his pretty face in your hands, holding him close to your face.

“Don't you ever doubt my love for you. I know what other people may think, and I quite frankly don't give a fuck. They're not me, don't compare me to them. I love you, Ace, and I fucking mean that.”

Your words are like ice water, cutting through the burning pain in his heart. It's a harsh wake-up call, but he needed it. He'd never dream of comparing you to anyone else. You're serious in your love for him, and it honestly terrifies him. He's never seen you be so confident as when you tell him you love him. A stray tear he can't hold back anymore escapes, and you lean up to kiss it away.

“I love you too,” He says, and for the first time all night, he sounds sure of himself.

“Good” is all you have to say as you pull him back for a kiss. He shamelessly moans into your mouth, proving how desperately he needs you. He resumes what he was doing in the first place, reaching down to rub your clit. He slips his fingers lower, pushing them inside you. His lips swallow your moans as you keen into his touch. He thrusts his fingers, getting the right angle. He takes your noises as motivation, using his fingers to work you up to an orgasm. When you cum, Ace is oddly quiet. He's taking in your every move, watching every minuscule twitch and shake of your body. He's a man obsessed.

“Are you ready for more?” he asks. You nod. He's confused a little when you begin to sit up until you push him onto his back.

“Let me ride you,” You say, swinging a leg over him. He nods, immediately following up with a verbal yes. You don't slip him in right away, instead opting to grind on his cock, rubbing your pussy over his shaft. He whines, warm hands coming up to grab your hips in a bruising grip.

“Please let me put it in.” He begs. “I need to be inside you.”

You oblige, reaching behind to guide his cock into you. You both cry out as you sink down on his cock. Ace is thick. His cock stretches you out like nothing else. You know it's not how anatomy works, but it feels like he's carved a space inside specifically moulded to his cock.

“Love your pussy. Fits me like a fucking glove,” he whimpers, hands flexing against your hips to urge you to move.

“If I'm gonna ride you like a cowgirl, shouldn't I wear a hat?” You tease, voice sounding wobbly at the end as his cock twitches inside you. His brain turns off when his cock is buried inside your pussy, so he doesn't understand what you mean until he realises you're reaching over to the nightstand to grab his hat. Once you place it on your head, Ace gasps. It's like he's seeing you for the first time. It's a statement, undeniable proof, that you're all his.

Just seeing you in his hat is enough to get him going, but now you're bouncing on his cock, and it has the last thread of his sanity flying out the window. The feeling of your tight wet pussy clenching around his sensitive cock is making him feel delirious. He feels your connection on a molecular level, deeper than the plane of existence you both inhabit. The feeling is foreign and scary to Ace, but you're there, so it's okay. You're ripping him apart just to put him back together.

The room is filled with thick air, the colliding of skin and the slick noises of your juices. Ace holds off the best he can, waiting for you to cum for him first. He needs to see how you look, experiencing the throes of pleasure in his hat. You're close, and your legs start to give, thighs shaking as you attempt to keep riding your man.

Ace reaches up to pull you down against his body; he plants both feet on the mattress and takes control, fucking up into you. Your orgasm washes over you, and you drop your head to his neck. Ace moans loudly as you attach your teeth to his neck and suck. He pushes down the urge to hold you there and tell you to bite harder. He'd let you do just about whatever you want with him, no matter what state it leaves him in. You have all this power over him, enough to kill him, and you're choosing to use it to love him.

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thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)))

comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

tag list: @bloodfixnd @beachaddict48 @sexysapphicshopowner @lem-hhn

general tag list and individual character tag lists are always open 🫶🫶

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[russo-woso]

Biggest fan || Leah Williamson x singer!reader

Request | Masterlist | prompt list

Yes, I’ve based reader on Taylor swift…

Summary Leah being your biggest fan

You were finally coming to the end of your world tour.

The past two years you’d travelled to over 25 countries, playing over 150 shows and performed at sold out stadiums all over the world.

The tour had made history. It became the highest grossing tour ever, surpassing over £1 billion.

You’d been singing your whole life, but you released your first album when you were just 15 years old.

Since that age, you’d released 10 other albums in the space of 13 years.

You’d done world tours before, but this was the biggest one to date.

This tour consisted songs from all of your albums, making each show over three hours long.

You loved going on tour, but hated it at the same time.

You loved it because you got to do what you loved, singing your heart out to people who you loved dearly every night.

But you hated it because you missed the person you loved most of all.

Your girlfriend, Leah.

Singing had brought you many good things, but the greatest thing was by far, Leah.

Leah and you met at a charity event five years ago.

You were sat next to each other and just hit it off.

It had always been hard to find relationships, often being judged for them, or people taking advantage of you, and your social status within the world.

But there was something different about Leah.

Leah treated you normal, she treated you as if you were a normal person, and that’s all you’d ever wanted.

In Leah’s eyes, you were some gorgeous girl called Y/N, not Y/N the world biggest pop star.

From that night, you and Leah kept talking, meeting up for coffee dates before Leah finally asked you to be her girlfriend.

At first you were hesitant, not knowing if Leah knew the downfalls that came with you, but when you told her, she shut you down claiming that she loved you and any downfall wasn’t big enough to not be with you.

In that moment, you knew Leah was the one for you.

But that didn’t prevent the hurt of leaving her for tours.

One of your previous tours gave Leah a vision of what life was like without you by her side, but when you both made an equal effort to talk to one another every day, you knew it was going to be okay.

That tour finished and not long after, Covid hit and you and Leah were stuck with each other for months.

It was exactly what you needed after not being with each other for months.

During Covid, you wrote two albums, with the help of Leah, that you published.

Once Covid had gone, your publicist came to you and asked if you had any plans for a tour.

You explained your thoughts about a tour with all most of your albums in and the tour started its planning shortly after.

That’s what led to the Eras Tour.

A tour that included most of your eras, except one, but there was a reason behind that.

You planned to start in America, doing over 50 shows there before moving internationally.

What you hadn’t expected was to extend the tour and add several more shows due to the demand of tickets.

At first, you were concerned about the pressure that was being put on your relationship, worried that two years was too long for Leah.

Leah was incredible though. Saying that she was going to come and spend as much time with you when she had breaks from matches.

Leah had also done her ACL as well, so she had a lot of free time on her hands, so what not better to do than come and support her girl.

As you were approaching your final shows, you and Leah were talking about your future together and what it held.

You’d hoped that your fans had gotten the message that once the tour was over, you’d be having a well deserved break from the industry.

You were having this break to spend time with your family, and also to create a family.

You and Leah had discussed having a baby once your tour ended as it felt like the right time.

With this decision in mind, you knew your final show was going to be emotional and that’s why you desperately wanted Leah to be there, even though Leah was going to be there no matter what.

What you didn’t know is that Leah had invited the whole of the Arsenal squad, and England squad, along with all her family, wanting to show off how talented you were, although everyone already knew from her non stop bragging.

You didn’t mind though, it was an emotional time and you wanted people you loved to be there with you.

Your final show was at a sold out Wembley, your eighth sold out Wembley on the tour.

The crowd was incredible like always, screaming the lyrics to your songs for three hours straight.

You kept looking over to Leah throughout the show, a proud look never leaving her face.

As you sang your final song of the show, using the iconic lyric change, karma is the girl in the team, you turned to look at the audience, bringing the mic to your mouth as tears welled in your eyes.

“Can you please give a massive round of applause for my backup dancers, my background singers, my band, and everyone who’s been involved in the tour.” You began, your voice shaking as you brought your backup and band team onto the stage once more. “We’ve made so many memories over the past 632 days, but you Wembley, have been by far one of the best of them.”

You looked at Leah who had tears in her eyes.

“There’s also just a few other people I’d like to thank…” you went through a list of them, thanking your family and friends, and the fans, but as you came to the last one, you felt like crying. “The biggest thank you goes to the girl on the team. Le, You’ve been nothing but supportive of me since we met but especially over the course of the past two years. So Thank you, le.”

At that everyone cheered her as you looked at her, tears streaming down her face.

Music started playing again as another lot of confetti was released.

“Goodnight everyone! Oh, and, this has been the Eras tour! I hope you enjoyed it!” You said, as everyone cheered for a final time.

As the stage went down, you were met with a very teary eyed Leah.

She immediately hugged you, pressing kisses all over your face.

“I’m so proud of you.” Leah whispered

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” You told her and more tears escaped your eyes.

“I love you.” Leah said, squeezing you harder.

“I love you too.”

—

“Now, toast.” Leah announced as she got up from the table.

Leah had treated you to a dinner with all of her teammates and family as a congratulations to the end of the tour.

“I dedicate this toast to my girl. My Y/N has done 153 shows over the past two years and has broken records for it. She’s also happened to break records about the most Grammy’s too but—” Leah began as you buried your head in your hands embarrassed.

“��We get it, Leah. You’re her biggest fan. We get it.” Beth joked as the table erupted in laughter.

“Anyway, to skip all the figures and statistics, I just wanted to say how proud I am of yoy. The tour has brought highs and lows but you’ve managed to get through them and for that, I am immensely proud. So, raise your glasses to the one, the only, Y/N Y/L/N.” Leah finished, hyping you up, as everyone raised their glasses before taking a sip.

Leah sat back down in her seat next to you, your arm wrapping with hers.

“Thank you, baby.” You whispered as the table fell back into light chatter.

“Everything I said is true.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Leah.” You were about to lean in for a kiss before stopping, Leah whining at the fact your lips didn’t connect. “Wait, even the fact that you’re my biggest fan?”

At that, Leah’s face just turned bright red.

“It’s true, she always plays your songs in the changing rooms, always pointing out that it’s her girlfriend singing.” Alessia told you from your right and you laughed, Leah’s face turning even more red.

“My biggest fan.”

“Can I have my kiss now?” Leah mumbled, and you gently pressed your lips on hers.

“Anything for my biggest fan.”

[seresinhangmanjake]

The Favorite

dad!Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

Summary: The Daggers meet your and Jake's baby girl for the first time and arguments over who will be her favorite aunt or uncle quickly follow.

Notes/Warnings: part of the Oh, Baby Universe, but can be read alone. Based on a suggestion from @tgmreader

Words: 1288

Between the ‘She’s like your clone, Jake,” from Nat, the ‘Is anyone else surprised Hangman beat us to the baby train?’ from Bob, and the offended ‘Wait, you two were hooking up and you didn’t tell me?’ from Javy, Jake is clearly exhausted. Not that he didn’t anticipate being worn out after introducing his daughter to his team, you both did, but the last forty-five minutes have far surpassed expectations.

Being confined in a room with the Daggers historically proves to have its drama—whether in the form of unnecessary argument or playful teasing—but with your new baby girl at the center of everyone's attention, drama has started to take on new meaning in the form of obsessively watching Eve as if she might start doing tricks or giving you both grief for not spilling every detail of your ‘sneaky, secret relationship’ before this moment. To your relief, though, they’ve steered clear of asking questions about your absence over the majority of the past year. They don’t push, knowing that information will be revealed with time.

“It’s just…” Mickey begins as his eyes snap back and forth from the baby to Jake, “...so weird.”

When you chuckle, Jake rolls his eyes. “It’s not weird,” he counters. 

“It’s pretty weird, man. You’re, like, a dad.”

“Lots of people are dads,” Jake says as he runs his knuckle down the cheek of the infant in your arms—his new little love. 

“Yea, but you’re the dad of Y/N’s baby.”

As Bradley snorts at the obvious, you look to Jake to check on the effect of Mickey’s unfiltered words. His eyes are on your face and you smile to soften the sudden twinge of uneasiness speckled amongst the various green flecks in his irises. 

Though Jake has expressed mental security in his place within the lives of you and your child, you fear what might occasionally be running through his mind. The last thing you want infecting his confidence is the consideration that maybe this situation is weird, that maybe he isn’t meant to be the father of your baby because he wasn’t intentionally chosen for that role. 

Eve wasn’t planned. You can’t change that. And the choices you made when you discovered your pregnancy are enough to have any man reasonably questioning himself. But there is no other man you want as your baby’s father. Jake is it. You’re pretty positive he was always meant to be it, because your brain refuses to picture another in his place. 

Jake’s stare breaks when Bradley starts to speak. “We all knew how these two felt about each other, even though they were doing nothing about it,” he says, shooting you and Jake a smirk so quick it’s barely acknowledged before he looks back to the group of pilots. “I promise you guys, once it fully sinks in, it won’t feel so wild that they accidentally made a tiny human.”

Nat’s head snaps up from Eve, but her finger remains wrapped in the infant’s smaller ones. “When, exactly, were you given enough time for it to sink in?” There is suspicion in her tone. Then her eyes go wide. “Did you already meet the baby?” she asks before turning to you and Jake. “Did Rooster meet her before the rest of us?”

As if sensing the shift in the room, Eve lets out a little whine and starts to wiggle in your hold. 

“Yes, Nat,” Bradley answers for you. You can feel the sass bubbling around him as his arms cross over his chest. “By a whole three days.”

“Three days matters,” she retorts. “It could be the difference that makes you Eve's favorite. The earlier the interaction, the better.”

“She’s only a few months old. You might still have a chance, Nat,” Reuben chimes from the sideline.

“Don’t bet on it,” Bradley snorts. His sass is so expertly conveyed you’re shocked his tongue doesn’t stick out to accompany his words. 

You’d scold him if not for the fact that these two often enjoy ruffling each other’s feathers when the opportunity arises. It’s all in good fun, but sometimes, depending on the topic, the teasing aspect goes over their heads. 

You suppose it’s flattering that being your child’s favorite is enough to cause a bit of an upset, but it’s wasted energy. Jake will be Eve’s favorite. The Father and The Favorite are not mutually exclusive, and you know in a room full of the people she loves most in the world, Eve will never fail to run straight into her father’s arms.

Nat, however, does not consider that inevitability as she carefully slips her finger from Eve’s to face the six-foot-tall brunet head-on. 

Jake mutters a curse, fingers rubbing across his forehead.

With his hands raised, Javy takes a step forward as if to prevent a physical altercation. “Alright, everybody take a breath,” he says. The winning, cocky grin that has tempted a woman or two or thirty is spread across his face. Then he points to himself. “I'm going to be the favorite. I'm her father's best friend.”

“I don't think that guarantees anything,” Bob says, only to receive a scowl in return.

It’s then that Mickey throws his own name onto the ballot. “You know, if we base this on entertainment value, she’ll obviously like me best. I’m the funniest.”

“Also the most irresponsible,” Reuben adds.

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“Um, everything,” Nat clarifies as Bob nods in agreement. “For one, you’ll never be the babysitter.”

“If you were the babysitter you’d need a babysitter,” Bradley chuckles, patting Mickey on the back. 

Bob clears his throat and pushes his glasses up his nose. “That is very true; it would be chaos. What baby Eve here could use is a calming presence, and that’s me, so–”

“I’m calm,” Reuben interjects, pulling a scoff out of Javy.

“You also come up with insane ideas that make everyone miserable,” Javy says. “What are you going to do, have the baby compete in challenges only to suffer through two hundred push-ups if she loses?” he asks. “I think that’s grounds for immediate disqualification.”

Reuben’s response is drowned out by the additions of each pilot arguing their case for favorite aunt or uncle, and you’re too drained from the last hour to attempt untangling voices.

Jake sighs and shakes his head before taking your hand in his and leading you out of the living room, up the stairs to where Eve sleeps. You’re thankful that, at some point, despite the noise filling the room where your friends remain, your little girl managed to fall asleep. As you place her in her crib, you glance at Jake. 

He’s sitting on the loveseat on the opposite side of the room, one hand running down his face, the other reaching out for you. When you take that hand, he pulls you onto his lap, shifting around until you’re comfortable with your back leaning against the armrest. A palm draws a lazy line of warmth up and down your leg.

“You’re a trouper, Honey,” he says, eyes unmoving from your knee.

You chuckle. “It could’ve been worse.”

“We should’ve done it one at a time; single-file line. The last thing I wanted was for you to be overwhelmed.”

Sitting a little straighter, you reach up to cup Jake’s cheek and guide his face toward yours. “Jake, I wasn’t overwhelmed. I’m fine and so is Eve,” you promise him. “Besides, they’re my friends, too. I knew what we were getting into.”

Jake leans into your touch before turning his head to kiss your palm. “They’re all crazy,” he says.

“Yes, but they’re ours,” you reply. Then you nudge your head in the direction of the crib. “And now hers.”

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @roosteraloha @b-bradshaw @memeorydotcom @ryiamarie @ateliefloresdaprimavera

[skzdarlings]

mine ; lee minho x reader

original ask: requested by @tattywood. “Can you please do ❛ you're mine. you've always been mine. ❜ with Lee Know? I just know you’ll come up with something amazing! 🩶"

pairing: lee minho/reader content info: another pair of star-crossed lovers lol. reader is kissed by a different guy without her permission. possessive sex. unsafe sex. lots of biting and marking and grabbing. word count: 3700 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

-

You finally escape.

When the date is over and your supposed boyfriend leaves, you run out the back door.  Your parents are distracted, waving goodbye to your boyfriend as he pulls away in his expensive car.  They chat between themselves on the front porch of the family estate. 

“Such a remarkable young man,” they say.  “So wholesome.  So intelligent.“

So rich, is what they really mean.  Because he is not wholesome; he is a bully and a bigot at the best of times.  He derides anyone he deems beneath him, which is just about everyone.  He is also not intelligent, as true depth of intellect is revealed in conduct.  Someone that cruel and ignorant is not intelligent.  You have engaged in more stimulating discourse with birds.

But he is wealthy.  Your parents picked him for you and have been forcing the relationship along, contriving dates without telling you he will be there, inviting him into your home, encouraging his empty and shallow affection.  You encourage nothing, sitting stiffly whenever he touches you: an arm slung around your waist, a hand on your lower back, a kiss on the cheek.

Maybe you were naïve to think it would not escalate before its time, that you could bear it cordially until his interest withered and died.  Foolish.  He is not here for you but your name.  He does not care how you feel.  He does not care if you want him.  He wants the money and connections and power, sharing a bed with your parents through you.

Today he cornered you when you were alone.  He backed you into the wall and kissed you.  An unwanted kiss is a disgustingly slimy thing, all tongue and teeth and the bad, unfamiliar taste of a vile man’s breath.

Your whole unlived life flashed in your mind’s eye.  Every second was irredeemably awful.

So you run.  Out the back door, to the garage, weaving around your father’s cars.  Your old bike is hooked on its rack and you lift it down with some grunting effort.  You are dressed for a date, wearing a pristine ivory dress your mother picked, white lace stockings, and delicate flats.  It is not the ideal outfit for riding a bike.  It is a pretty but flimsy thing.  Summer nights are warm but there is a crisp breath on the wind as the sun sets. 

But if you stop for even a second, even just to change clothes, even just to catch your breath, then you will never get away. 

You swing onto your bike and escape via the back lane.  It is a long ride across town but your adrenaline propels you onward.

It is very obvious when you have crossed into new territory.  Across the park trail and over the railroad tracks is a different world.  The houses get smaller, more ramshackle, junk piled around the fully abandoned abodes.  Even the lived-in homes have old trucks and rusted goods stacked on their lawns.  It is a consequence of impoverished anxiety, hoarding in fear of one day having nothing.

Indeed, a very different part of town. 

Your parents are probably furious they cannot find you, but they will assume you ran to a nearby friend’s house.  If they knew where you really were, which friend you went to see, they would surpass furious and venture all the way into horror. 

But they are far away now.

You feel nothing but relief as the air changes.  You know it is the chill of a summer night as the sky turns blue, but it convinces you the air is clearer.  You exhale and feel as though you are releasing a breath that you have been holding all day.

Your journey takes you to a familiar yard.  You remember the first time you ever visited, standing so small and uncertain on the front steps, waiting for a kiss you actually wanted.

A kiss that never came.  

You park your bike against the side of the house.  You walk up the front steps on shaky legs, weak from speedy riding.    

You open the screen door to knock on the inside door.  While you wait for an answer, you fiddle with your appearance, adjusting any evidence of wind-swept dishevelment.

Oh, you are so nervous.  You were so hellbent on just getting here, you did not register any feeling beyond determination. But now you are standing on this porch in your flimsy white dress, the sun set, the day done.  You are doing something you should have done a long, long time ago and suddenly fearing you are far, far too late. 

No answer comes.  You knock again.

Your stomach forms a pit you hope you will eat you whole.  Is he ignoring you?  No.  The windows are shut, the blinds closed.  He cannot even see you.

You take a step back.  Even with everything sealed shut, you should be able to see a hint of light.  The house is small, a single story.  There are only so many places he could be.

He isn’t home, you realize, first with relief that he is not ignoring you, then with dejection.  Of course he’s not home, you tell yourself.  What were you even thinking?  Silly girl.  Riding all the way out here, expecting him to be sitting around and waiting for you.  He has a life of his own.  He probably doesn’t even think about you.  You’re pathetic.

You know you are being a little melodramatic.  Your emotions have been running at an extreme all day.  They finally become too much to bear.  You sit down on the steps and cry. 

Some time passes.  You eventually calm yourself enough to wipe your eyes.  You feel the cold more acutely now, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth. 

You are not sure what to do now.  You refuse to go home, knowing what awaits you.  You have nowhere else to go. Your future is murky, which is still more comforting than the vision of it when your boyfriend forcibly kissed you.   

You sigh.  You know if you wait long enough, your friend will come home and help you.  Even if he doesn’t want you, even if he can be a bit standoffish at times, he has the warmest heart you know.  You met doing volunteer work, in fact.  You know he will help you like he would help anyone in need.

It does not mean you do not feel pathetic, curled up and shivering on his porch steps.  You are debating a course of action when a truck rolls into the yard with a flash of headlights and a noticeably hiccupping engine.  It pulls around the side of the house.

You stand and take tentative steps to follow.  You are still and quiet as the rough rumble of the truck comes to a wheezy stop. 

The driver door flies open.  He jumps out, cursing.  Your breath catches and all your hypotheticals dissipate in wake of the reality of him.

Lee Minho.

He is wearing his old, dusty leather jacket, something of a signature piece due its reliability.  His jeans are torn at the knee, likely a legitimate tear and not a fashion statement, his old work boots a bit scuffed.  He is a working man of limited means and nothing functional goes to waste.  

He is beautiful as ever.  Dark hair falls across his forehead and he pushes it back with a forceful rake, the softer pieces fluttering forward again.  He has an athletic frame, but delicate features despite his near-perpetual scowl.  When he does laugh, it is a hilariously boisterous sound.

He is scowling right now.  Cursing to himself as he stomps around the beat-up truck.  He wears a carabiner with a bundle of emergency tools, grabbing a miniature flashlight to guide his way.  He props open the hood and starts rustling around inside.  He curses again, then he puts the light away so he can reach inside with both hands.

You do not mean to startle him.  You thought he might have seen you, observant as he is, but apparently the truck has him distracted.

“Minho,” you say. 

You cannot see him too well in the dark, but you hear the distinctive thud of metal as he undoubtedly smacks his head on the open hood.  He curses louder this time. 

There is a small light on the side of the house.  You step towards it at the same time. 

He is rubbing the back of his head, frowning, but he comes to a total stop when he sees you.  His eyes widen ever so slightly, his brows drawn in confusion.  He stares intently at you. 

“Hi,” you say.

He just keeps staring. 

“Um. I was just in the neighbourhood,” you say.  “I wanted to see you.  I hope you’re doing well.”

He drops his arm and it swings at his side.  He continues to stare at you, the furrow in his brow more intense. 

“Right,” you say.  You feel a catch in the back of your throat.  Fortunately, you have cried all your tears and will not make a fool of yourself in front of him.  More of a fool, that is.  You want to say so many things but you cannot think of a single word that suffices. 

I missed you so much, you think.  I think about you every day.  Have you thought about me?

It sounds so clingy and pathetic.  Your boyfriend derides such women and their neediness.  Minho is not a man like that, though.  He has never spoken so disparagingly about someone.  You know that, but the words catch nonetheless. 

You exhale a shaky breath, looking aside at nothing. 

“I’m sorry,” you finally say.  “I probably shouldn’t have come here.  It’s been months since we last spoke.  I know we’re not really friends anymore.  I just had no where else to go and I…”

“You were crying,” he says. 

You look at him.  His expression has not softened.  It is still that same scrutinizing stare.  His gaze is intently locked on yours, on eyes that must show the evidence of your crying. 

You wipe your face quickly, embarrassed.  Your gaze lifts when he takes a small step towards you.  He reaches for you, as if he means to wipe your eyes himself, but then he catches the sight of his own hand, covered in black grease from the truck. 

“Shit,” he says, and snaps his arm back. 

“Minho,” you say, your heart fluttering just from the suggestion he was going to touch you.  A small touch from him means more than anything. 

“Princess,” he says, an old affectionate nickname for you, though he speaks it rather dryly.  He is still frowning.  “Are you hurt?”

“Maybe,” you say.  When he reacts physically, his shoulders stiffening, you quickly add, “Not like that.  Emotionally, I mean.  I just… I think I ran away from home.”

“You think,” he says flatly.

“Well, I didn’t really think it through, to be honest,” you say shyly.  “I just… I couldn’t stay there anymore.  You know what they’re like.” 

He flinches as if the memory comes with a strike.  You feel embarrassed, remembering too. 

You and Minho became fast friends through your mutual volunteer efforts.  You thought nothing of inviting him to a neighbourhood party at your parents’ house.  He wore his nicest shirt and fresh pants, but as soon as everyone found out where he came from, they wanted nothing to do with him. 

You are embarrassed to say you did not even notice at first, naively taking politeness for granted.  He had to explain it to you, then you saw their two-facedness everywhere and felt horrible.

You stayed on his side of town after that, at least until your parents put their foot down.  They didn’t want you developing feelings for that kind of boy.   You insisted he was just a friend, even while already in love with him.  His biting wit and good heart had you in thrall. 

You were in denial about your parents being bad people.  You wanted to believe they had your best interest at heart.  They were just set in their ways.  They wanted a good life for you.  You told Minho to just give them time.  He let you go.  They introduced you to your new boyfriend the next day. 

Minho takes a breath.  He shoves his tongue into his cheek, looking pensive.  You are thinking of something to say when he nods his head. 

“You look cold,” he says frankly.  “Let’s go inside.”

You nod, following him to the front steps.  He grabs the porch rail and jumps the steps in an effortless swing.  You shuffle behind him while he unlocks the door. 

He says nothing, just nods at you.  You follow him through, closing the door while he bends down to unlace his boots.  He kicks them to the side while you step softly out of your flats.  When you meet each other’s eyes, you feel a spark. 

You stood in this very spot a few months ago, almost nose to nose, arguing about your parents and what to do.  You knew, deep in your heart, the conversation was not about a mere friendship.  You both had stronger feelings, but you were both scared to act on them given your precarious circumstance.  He did not want to risk everything while you were indecisive.  You wanted to keep everything. 

You have lived a life of great privilege and you are used to getting everything you want.  You have had to confront reality, that you cannot always have everything.   

So, if you can only have one thing, you want him. 

He looks at you with the same dark passion as then.  Your heart skips beats under his intense gaze. 

“You’re here,” he says. Maybe the same memories flicker through his mind.  He tips his head, looking at you so closely, like he cannot believe you are real.   

“Yes,” you say softly, clasping your hands in front of you. “I’m here.” 

“To stay,” he says.

“If you’ll have me,” you reply.  Your heart is beating so hard, it is a wonder he cannot hear it.  Your legs feel even weaker than before, but this time is has nothing to do with bicycles and everything to do with him. 

He swallows, his throat bobbing.  He sniffs and looks aside while idly tugging his jacket.   

“And your boyfriend?” he says, glaring at the far wall. 

Your heart sinks.  It is your turn to swallow. 

“You know about that?” you ask. 

He laughs, not that gleeful sound you know but a sharp cackle.  He looks at you incredulously. 

“Of course I know,” he says.  “I don’t always stay on my side of the tracks.  Sometimes,” he speaks with sarcastic wonder, “I get to repair houses for the pretty rich people.”  He huffs, shaking his head.  “It’s fine,” he says.  “You should be with someone like that.  He’ll give you the house.  The car.  I bet your parents love him too.”

“I don’t want those things,” you say, bearing his bitterness because you understand what he is feeling.  You lift your chin and look him in the eye.  “You’re right, my parents do love him.  But I don’t.  He’s shallow and unkind.  And you—”  Your voice catches.  “You, Lee Minho, are anything but that.  You are everything.  And I… I love you.  I always have.”  You drop your eyes with this confession, suddenly overwhelmed with the sheer emotion pouring out of his gaze.  “I know it’s been a while,” you say.  “I don’t expect you to have waited for me.  I just—”

He laughs again.  It is still dry, but not so sharp.  You glance at him. 

“Princess,” he says. “Don’t tell me you seriously think I could just forget about you.”  He shakes his head.  “It’s like you don’t even know me.  I should kick you out just for that.”

You realize he is joking, the faintest hint of something warm melting his scowl. 

“I can’t give you that life,” he says seriously. 

You step towards him, holding his gaze, pouring as much emotion back at him.  He exhales, blinking quickly, long lashes fluttering as he looks at you. 

“I have no idea what we’re gonna do,” you admit.  “But I know I want to figure it out.  With you.  And no one else.” 

He smiles and it makes you smile.  Then he reaches for you, but stops when he once more remembers his dirty hands. 

“Shit,” he says again, then takes a step back.  “Let me just—”

You take him by the wrist and yank him towards you.  He follows your guidance, his breath catching when you plant his hand on your hip.  It will leave a big black stain on your perfect white dress, the shape of his hand in a possessive grip on your body. 

It is more effective than any word.  He swoops in and kisses you, his other hand cupping your other hip with the same deliberate possessiveness.   You are certain this horrid little gown will be destroyed and you do not care one bit.  You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back. 

“You’re cruel,” he says between kisses.  “Torturing me for so long.  I wanted to kill that man.  But I thought he made you happy—”

“He disgusted me,” you say.  “He kissed me without my permission today.”

“What.”  That stops the kiss and he looks at you with that scowl again.  “I’ll kill him,” he says without any hesitation. 

You just laugh a gentle laugh, shaking your head.  You twist a longer tuft of his hair around your finger, making his tense shoulders go soft as he leans in. 

“You don’t have to kill him,” you say.  “Just make me forget him.” 

Oh, Lee Minho is such an awful tease all the time.  Of course he goes back to just staring at you with a contemplative air, making you wriggle and wonder in his arms.  You whine his name, trying to kiss him, but he dodges it.  Your whimpering makes him laugh, because of course it does. 

Then he gets very serious.  Your heart sends a bolt of heat shooting through your body.  Your thighs press together. 

He presses his forehead to yours.  You gasp when you feel his fingers on your back, the careful slow touch as he tugs your zipper down.  The flimsy dress slides off your body as he steps back to look at you.  You shiver, gazing back at him.  His stare is unflinching as he peels off his jacket and tosses it aside.  His hands are already much cleaner, the distinctive print of his palms still plastered to your dress.  He wipes the rest on his own shirt then tugs it off and tosses it to the side. 

He smirks and wiggles two come hither fingers at you, walking backwards.  You follow him slowly, then give chase when he cackles and runs.  You follow him into the bedroom where he literally sweeps you off your feet.

“And you say I’m cruel,” you tease.   

He closes the door with a firm snap then leans you against it. 

“You are,” he says.  He looks down your body while running his fingers through his hair.  “You are.” 

Then he gets on his knees, first one while he tugs your panties down, then the other, when he hooks your leg over his shoulder and put his mouth on you.  He does not tease anymore, swiftly finding all the ways to make you moan his name.  You are scared your leg will buckle under you when he makes you come, but he holds you steady. 

Then he stands up and cups your face, kissing you deeply, making you taste yourself on his tongue.  It is a good kiss, everything a kiss should be, hot and hungry, slow and deep.  It makes you tingle with aftershocks, blinking at him with delirious pleasure when he pulls back.   

Minho can be loud, can be boisterous, can be scathing.  He can also speak gently, in such a soft, light rasp.  It makes your head spin.   He speaks like that now.    

“This is how it is,” he says, then kisses you again, licks into your mouth.  When you moan, he moans back.  “I make you sigh,” he says.  “I make your pussy wet.  I make you come.  Just me.”

“Yes,” you nod, clinging to him when he carries you to the bed.  “You, Minho.” 

He lays you down, kneeling between your open legs.  They are still quivering from your orgasm.  He looks at you, hungrily, while opening his belt.  He rips it out of his jeans and tosses it behind him, then unzips while leaning down to kiss you.  He dives past your waiting mouth to kiss your throat, biting marks under your jaw, on your neck, on your tits.  You grab his head, hands in his hair, arching your back under his desperate mouth. 

“You’re mine,” he says.  “You’ve always been mine.”

He holds your hips while thrusting inside you.  You imagine his hands leaving a permanent mark, just like that stained dress, a claiming that forever marks you as his.  He fucks you so steadily and deeply, holding you possessively, gasping your name and how good you feel while he takes you. 

“Perfect,” he says in that dreamy voice, rubbing you softly while fucking you hard. It makes you come around his cock, clenching tight, which makes him moan into your mouth.   “Mine.”

You wrap your legs around him.  You lay chest-against-chest, holding each other.  Your nails scratch his back, no doubt leaving your own marks, your whole body littered with his kisses and bites.  There is not a single inch of you that is not branded by him. 

“Yes,” you say.  “Always, Minho.”

Saying his name sends him over.  He comes inside you, claiming you even there, then stays inside you after while you kiss. 

You stay in his arms all night, making love and sleeping then making love some more.  When the sun rises, you wake to him holding you, stroking your cheek affectionately. 

He kisses your forehead and you nestle comfortably against him, happy to be home. 

[lilylovestowrite]

AN ECCENTRIC'S ENTROPY ୨♡୧

PAIRING: (Dr Ratio x Professor! Reader)

WARNINGS: Suggestive

SYNOPSIS: For people who get into each other's pants a lot, you sure do know how to piss each other off...

WORD COUNT: 1k

Divider by @/cafekitsune

Entropy: The measure of the degree of disorder within a substance

“Will you stop your incessant whining?” Dr. Veritas Ratio groans, “I’d have thought spending more time with me would have caused your IQ to surpass at least a vegetable.” You roll your eyes and slam your new research paper down on your colleague's desk. 

“If you didn’t want to be surrounded by idiots, you shouldn’t have decided to teach at a university. Even if Stellaron University is prestigious, you’re still teaching barely adults.” You sigh with faux pity. “But I guess you didn’t think that far, poor Dr. Ratio.” Mockingly, you pet his head, the silky locks of violet slipping through your fingers as he grabs your wrist and forces it back on the desk. 

“I’m not reading your paper.” He shakes his head, brows furrowed and a scoff leaves his lips. Even though he looks up at you from his desk, the way he reclines on his chair so casually makes you feel small. It has always been like this. Veritas and his obnoxious attitude driving you up the walls. A prodigy yourself, the pursuit of knowledge has never been a struggle to you. Yes, it was challenging, but that was part of the fun. The thrill of tearing apart a formula and sinking your teeth in until it churns out a set of numbers that you like.  This allowed you to be the top professor at Stellaron for almost three years straight, until Veritas. Veritas, who opposes almost everything that you do, from the way you prefer to use a whiteboard and pen and him a blackboard and chalk. The way your coffee is dark and his is sweetened with milk and sugar to the point it doesn’t even look like coffee anymore. You didn’t have a problem with this until he published a scientific paper which had quoted your own paper published a month prior, and pointed out how it was not mathematically viable. You still remember the smirk he wore on his face when he emailed you the manuscript for peer review, the audacity of this man to ask you to proofread the very paper he dedicated hours to just to prove your own wrong! 

Naturally, your response is to ask him to do the same. But not with one email, but with twenty scheduled emails every other day. Sometimes, you like to add little emojis to the subject of your emails, and other times you embed links into the email that isn’t your paper, but wikihow articles. This pettiness has caused many encounters with him, some ending rather… intimately. 

Of course, Veritas has not proofread your paper, and you don’t expect him to, so he has no idea how much you’ve referenced his paper and disproved it. But you know how much it ticks him off regardless, the urge to tear through each of your arguments, even if logically speaking, arguing with you is  a waste of time. This degree of disorder is what drives him crazy. You sew chaos into his life as he does to yours, and as the entropy of a heating substance increases the entropy of its surroundings, so too does the tension-filled competitiveness from one of you, causes the other to maniacally lust to overpower the other. 

“Come on, read it. I know you want to.” You slide the paper closer to him, your hands sliding across the epoxy finish of the oak desk. “Unless… You’re scared I’m right.” He stares up at you with eyes the same hue of gold as the award trophies that line the shelves of his classroom, and cocks a brow. He stands up, leaning over the desk and moving his face closer to yours. His cologne almost overpowers your perfume, the musky scent of pinewood and berries he reserves for winter mixing with your vanilla scented perfume, and it sends you into overdrive.

“Oh? I think someone is too overconfident.” He remarks. You’ve noticed that there’s always something up his sleeve, something that he uses at the last minute to defeat you, but you’re getting better at recognising his patterns. And the way his deep voice becomes breathier, softer, akin to a snake’s sinister hiss, you understand that you’ve gotten under his skin. 

“You don’t think enough, Veritas, that’s your writing skills are bare bones and your papers hard to understand.” 

“Shut that mouth of yours.” He grits his teeth further, finally sitting on the edge of his desk and flipping over your paper. You let out a small laugh and sit at his chair. He looks down at you disapprovingly as you do so, but you pay no mind to the fact you’ve sat yourself down on his throne, because your paper will definitely take him down a peg or two. 

“In your bibliography, you spelt ‘accessed’ on your third source wrong.” He points out, taking a red pen from his desk and removing the cap with his teeth, circling the typo as you burn with humiliation. “Oh my, your spacing for the first page and last page are different. How irritating it must be for your readers to be accustomed to one layout and then switch to another.”

“It is just spacing, Veritas.”

“It’s more than that, dear, people like some organisation in their scientific papers. And your way of writing is chaotic! I should have known just by your handwriting and layout in sums.” He tuts, petting your head in faux pity just as you did to him seconds ago.  

“Read the damn paper, Dr. Ratio.” You grit your teeth, now irritated that you’ve dedicated hours and hours bashing him in the footnotes, researching just so he can get a taste of his own medicine, for you to be corrected on your formatting. 

“Patience.” There is something downright Dionysean about his voice, if it were a colour, it would be the seductive shade of red wine, and just as addictive. Addictive like the many times where you two have come too close for comfort, like the one time you two were locked in the storage closet together, and you felt his strong arms encase your body as he helped you push the door open from behind. Or this one time at a work event where he made fun of your table manners and swiped ice cream off of your lips to prove his point. It made you feel red hot, just like the colour of his voice, and the way he acts too hot around you, too excitable. And you wanted more. To make a man who is cold and reserved morph into a competitive beast  raring to go and one up you at every turn is no small feat. The dichotomy makes your head spin, and this side of him only you know wants to make you explore him more. And you know just from the way he cocks his head and slides off the desk, that he’s switching from sub-zero aloofness to scorching hot opposition. 

He grabs the arms of the chair you sit in to push it so far it hits the wall so you are cornered against the blackboard. 

“Actually.” He muses, tilting your head up and sliding your hair to one side. “I want you to read it.” He whispers, breath hot against your ear. “Read it, and I’ll give you,” he encircles your waist with one hand, “appropriate feedback.” 

He hands you the manuscript, and kisses your neck softly. His other hand, now free, unzips your skirt and you gasp as his fingers venture between your legs. 

“Start reading. You’re good at running your mouth, aren’t you? Let’s see how long that attitude lasts…”

[thatacotargirl]

Shadows and Surprises (3)

Part 3 of Azriel x Reader fanfic! Enjoyyyy!

Summary: Azriel meets y/n at Rita's and spends a single night of passion with you before heading your separate ways. Only, the Mother had different ideas.

Warnings: vague mentions of family difficulties.

Tag list - @mirandasidefics @lilah-asteria @nyxbranwenn @nickishadow139 @dee-writes-smut @impossibelle @mybestfriendmademe

Y/N POV

You groaned as you dragged yourself from the bed, the knocking at your door more insistent now. You pulled the door open and gaped, seeing Azriel standing there behind it.

"Hi" he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and nervous.

"Hi" you replied, holding the door a little wider open, a silent offering for him to come into your apartment. He accepted, his wings tucked in tightly to avoid knocking into you or the doorframe as he walked into your living room. The room was a mess - you never had the time or energy to clean it these days. When you weren't working at the bookstore, you were sleeping away your nausea and indigestion. You knew growing a baby would be exhausting, but this surpassed all of your expectations.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" you joked, leaning against the sofa edge to support yourself. You hadn't expected Azriel to show up at your apartment. In fact, you hadn't expected to see him again. It wasn't that you thought he was a bad male and would deliberately want to shirk his responsibilities - but he was responsible for the safety of an entire Court, and a baby likely wasn't in his plans.

"We need to talk", was all he replied. You stared at him silently, encouraging him to go on.

"I don't know what I am doing. It's not that I never wanted children, I do, I just didn't expect to have any at this time in my life. But I want to be there. I want to be involved. I know what it feels like to have a broken family and feel like a burden, like you're unloveable, and I don't want my child to ever question if I love them". He had tears in his eyes, and you realised there was probably a lot of unspoken, unshared pain behind them that you might never know. But it was enough. You had your own pain that you hadn't shared with him, and you couldn't expect disclosure from him if you weren't willing to return the gesture. Not yet.

You reached out to touch his arm in comfort and, much to your surprise, Azriel caught your arm before you could reach him and pulled you into his chest. You nuzzled in and he rested his head on top of yours, a deep sigh sounding in the otherwise silent room.

"We will need to plan logistics", he said into your hair, ever the pragmatist.

"Yes Mr Spymaster, we can plan logistics", you chuckle back.

"I'm serious", he says, pulling away to look at you. He scans your body from head to toe, and you realise he is surveying you. Taking an inventory. "I can see how tired you are, are you not sleeping? You know it's not good for the baby if you're not resting, right?".

You laugh, your heart warm at the fact that Azriel was suddenly so concerned for yours and the baby's welfare.

"Az, it's hard to sleep when you single-handedly run a business and a home", you gesture around yourself at the piles of dirty dishes, laundry, the thick layer of dust on the broken fireplace. Azriel's eyes followed yours, and you suddenly felt ashamed. Your apartment was far from perfect. Your landlord was quite the absentee, so your broken fire place had gone unfixed for several winters now. As had the poorly insulated windows, the kitchen sink tap which sometimes decided to spray you down when you turned it on, and the mould forming around the edges of the bathroom floor. Whilst your bookstore was successful, life in Velaris was still expensive, and you couldn't really afford much better.

"Then you move in with me", he said. You simply gaped.

"In your own room, of course", he added quickly. "You will have your own room and your own space".

"Az, I couldn't ask you to do that" you replied, pulling out of his embrace.

"You're not asking. I am insisting. I don't fancy showing up here one day and finding you rabid from a rat bite", you notice him glance over to a hole in the skirting board of your kitchen.

"It's not a rat, it's a mouse, her name is Daisy and she would never bite me", you retort. Admittedly, you didn't like sharing your living space with Daisy, even if you were somewhat confident that she wouldn't bite you. Somewhat.

Azriel only chuckled. "I insist", I will ask Rhys and Cassian to come and help move your belongings over to the House of Wind".

Rhys, Cassian, House of Wind. You were moving into the centre of the Night Court. Azriel felt your shiver.

"Don't worry, only Cassian and I live there. He will dote over you more than I will - he will carry you everywhere if you ask".

Cassian. Lord of Bloodshed. Commander of the Night Court armies.

Azriel could see the uncertainty in your face and pulled you back to his chest. "Relax, they are just normal people, I promise they will love you. Mor will be so happy to finally have another female in her presence she probably won't leave you alone."

"Mor?" you asked.

"Rhys' cousin and third in command" he replied. You could sense from his tense stance that there was some history there, but decided now wasn't the time to broach it.

"Ok", you sighed, "when do we make this happen?".

Azriel smiled. "Now".

Azriel's POV

After reaching out to Rhys, Azriel took y/n's hand and let her lead him to her bedroom to start packing. It was only about 10 minutes later that another knock sounded at the door, and Azriel opened it to see Rhysand and Cassian beaming behind. They both walked into the apartment.

"A new chapter, brother" Cassian said, pulling Azriel into a hug. Rhysand smiled as he watched them, giving Azriel a hearty pat on the shoulder. They both turned to the door of y/n's bedroom as they watched her appear, shyly holding a box of her belongings. Cassian was the first to approach her, giving her a huge smile and taking the box from her hands. Azriel noticed that Cassian's smile only grew wider when he looked down to y/n's stomach and saw the small swelling.

"Welcome to the family, y/n" he said, putting the box on the floor and offering his arms out to her. She stepped forward slowly into them, but seemed to warm into his embrace. He could almost feel her relief. Rhysand stepped forward, careful not to appear intimidating. Whilst Rhys had the kindest soul Azriel had known, his power was palpable, and capable of intimidating just about anyone. He saw y/n peer past Cassian at Rhys, who simply offered his hand to her. She accepted as Rhys brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the top of her fist.

"It is an honour to meet you, y/n", he said. Y/n blushed so deeply he had to withhold a laugh. Y/n mumbled something quite incoherent in response, which earned her a chuckle from Rhys.

"Let's get moving, shall we?", Cassian called out, holding onto the first of y/n's boxes and flying off towards the House of Wind.

-

It took a few hours, but eventually all of y/n's belongings had been moved into her new bedroom. Azriel watched as y/n took in the room. He had picked a room a few doors down from his, to give y/n her privacy, but to be close enough in case she needed anything. Cassian's room was a few doors the other way, so she was sandwiched between the pair of them. Azriel hoped that that way, if anything happened, one of them would be there to help.

"You are welcome to change the room however you wish", Rhys said, appearing in the doorframe. "Paint it, change the furniture, whatever you want - this is your room and you can do with it as you like".

"Thank you", y/n replied, breathless in wonder. The bedroom was almost the size of her entire apartment had been, and Az could see that she was starting to feel overwhelmed. He silently gestured for his brother to leave them and walked to y/n's side.

"Are you ok?", he asked.

"Yes", y/n replied, "just a bit shocked at how this day has turned out. It's certainly not what I expected. Who knew how much could change over an indigestion tonic". She laughed, but it sounded more hollow than normal.

"I'm sorry", Azriel said, his hand rubbing circles on y/n's back.

"What for?".

"I don't know. I just felt like a sorry was warranted right now".

"You're daft".

Azriel shook his head, hiding a smile that had crept onto his face. No wonder he had been enamoured with you that night. You were one of the few people who wasn't intimidated by him. Who spoke your mind to him. He appreciated it more than he would tell you.

"Mor and Amren are joining us for a family dinner tonight, but you don't need to come if you are feeling tired or not up for it. They will all understand and we can have your food brought up here".

Y/n looked up at him and gave him a small, watery smile.

"I think I would like that", she replied. Azriel couldn't hid his smile in response.

"Great, dinner is at 7, I'll leave you to have a rest now and come and get you to take you down to the dining room just before". With that, he departed, closing the bedroom door behind him.

Y/N's POV

I think I would like that.

WHAT.

You didn’t know what had come over you. Of course you wanted to meet Azriel’s family, eventually. But most females are wined and dined before being introduced to a male’s family. Then again, most females are wined and dined before having a male’s baby, so if anything, you were at least consistent.

Your new home was nothing short of show-stoppingly beautiful. Your bedroom, which was fit for a queen, followed a pearlescent theme, with light marble furniture. The walls, which were a shade of muted light gold, rivalled any room you had lived in before. Rhys’ offer to re-design the room was kind, but you’d be crazy to want to change a single thing. The bed, clearly designed for Illyrian wings, would fit 5 of you with space, and had the softest duvet you could imagine. It felt like stroking a cloud. You felt a momentary panic that you had, in fact, fallen asleep when you had intended to nap - and dreamt this entire encounter. You pinched yourself hard and yelped. No, this was very real. You hopped into the bed, and sleep took you immediately.

-

A soft knock at your door had you leaning up on your shoulders. You took a moment to remember your surroundings.

“Come in”, you called.

Azriel walked into the room and you had to force your jaw not to drop open. Clad in his Illyrian leathers, he looked devastating.

“It’s almost time for dinner, are you sure you’d like to join?”, he asked, taking in your bed hair.

“Yes, yes, sorry just a minute!”, you jumped from the bed and ran in front of the vanity mirror, smoothing down the knots that had formed from your tossing and turning. Azriel chuckled and walked over to you, reaching out to untangle a knot that had formed by the back of your neck. You froze as his hands brushed against you, gently pulling the hair free. When you looked presentable, you turned to face him and took a deep breath.

“You ready?”, he asked.

“Ready”.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Playing phasmophobia with some of the hazbin men.

Like, imagining playing phasmophobia with Adam who's pretending to be all big and tough but is fucking horrified so reader has to guide him through the game, and at the end he takes all the credit for it.

Or playing with Lucifer who starts out horrified and possibly starts getting better at it after reader comforts him, and makes reader play it all the time so he can get all the achievements and have reader be proud of him. I feel like eventually he'd get less scared because he'd rationalize it as being unrealistic.

Playing phasmophobia on vox's screen whilst sitting in his lap

Lucifer

You two were sitting in the same room, two laptops you had snuck in from VoxTech going with the famed Phasmaphobia. It took a lot of convincing to get your boyfriend, the King of Hell, to play this game with you. You wouldn't say he was afraid; more like he didn't care for the possibility of the unknown; jumpscares were the unknown.

As you two booted into the game, there were many hiccups from mic feedback to glitches, even Lucifer dying randomly from Despawn and just getting to watch you freak out. Over time, though, things were in a smooth groove, and you two were completing mission after mission. Yes, some scares still got Lucifer. Who wants to see a small child crouch walking past you. He was good at finding the evidence and surpassed you in EXP in only a handful of games.

Alastor

He was not a fan of you cramming him into your room with computers set up. He already hated modern technology, so why force him to? The way you lit up, though, made asking to play this stupid game worth it. Swallowing his pride, he joined you in playing the scary Ghost game. Though he didn't jump once, he enjoyed watching you get scared.

As the gaming session continued, he still had a distaste for anything technological, but he was having a good time with you. He managed to streamline the game much faster than you, so that way, while you were being chased and screaming, he was completing the game on the side. He still made you remove the computers afterward, but he wouldn't mind playing another game some other time.

Adam

He was not a fan of the scary ghost game in the slightest. The minute he opened his bedroom door to you having a whole gaming setup with the title screen playing, he was hoping you were just joking. However, as he sat down and began playing, he realized quickly this was really hell, not down below.

While you cackled and laughed at his disdain, he clung to you like a small child. He hated everything about it and always died first haunt. Eventually, he would get over his fears just to turn into a rage baiter. As soon as he learned all the hiding spots, he would purposefully trigger ghost events to fuck with you or get you killed first.

Husk

He watched you play more than anything. When he entered, he was exhausted from work and didn't want to use his brain any more than he had to. This was fine by you, as having him comment on the whole experience was far more fun than playing with you. He would scream and yell at your little character or the ghosts as they popped up. He had fun acting like he was watching a personal horror movie for free.

Since he is good at games, he picks up on little things that make your experience better. That way, you can have the most enjoyable playtime but still always get the ghost right. Just like his impressive memory with Poker, he memorizes all the mannerisms of the ghosts and the utilities it takes to find them.

Vox

There is no playing with Vox, only against him, with him having the better advantage. Since he is the internet, he will just play the ghost for you. While you hunt him down, he does everything in his power to scare you and make you jump. Of course, you have to play on his lap, where he can hold you still and calm you if it becomes too much.

He likes to take himself out of the screen, though, and actually play with you, only to help you complete the challenges you want. He knows it can be hard playing against him; he is the best, after all, so a little reprieve and fun can be had.

[zxoaii]

Everyone but you

fem! reader x Mike Schmidt

Summary: Mike finally opens up about his soft spot for you.

WC: 4.8k

Warnings: NSFW 18+ (idk how to do this its smut)

A/N: I was already halfway through this when the votes tied for this and Peeta so let’s hope Peeta doesn’t surpass Mike

[ Y/n ]

“You know, you’re actually pretty weird.”

Mike looks up at me with an unamused look on his face. “I’m weird?” He takes a fry from my tray. I nod with my mouth full.

“I’ve never met a security guard who was as good looking as you.” My smile forces through mid-sentence. I can’t ever keep a straight face. Mike on the other hand can only keep a straight face.

He shakes his head at me and pulls his wallet out of his pocket. “Can you go get me some fries? Now I want some.” When he opens his wallet I catch a glimpse of a photo.

“Who’s that?” I reach out and grab his wallet. “That’s my sister, Abby.” He actually tells me. Mike omits most things about his life. “She’s cute. How old is she?”

The wallet is taken from my hands. “I’ll tell you if you go get me a large fry with some ketchup.” Our eyes meet for a moment. I’m the first to give in. His gaze always melts me.

“Fine.” I grab the five from his hand and get up from the table. As I make my way across the food court I glance at the clock on the wall.

Damn, I only have ten minutes left on my break. Sometimes I wish I had a reason to call security during my shift just so I could see Mike. He never really walks near the Victoria’s Secret.

I guess it’d be kind of weird if he lingered around it though…

“Hi. Can I just get a large fry please.” I look back at the table to check if Mike is still there. I’m not sure why I check like this when I leave. He always stays. And he always comes back too.

“Here.” The kid at the register hands me the receipt. “Thanks.” I take it and move off to the side to wait for the food.

Mike is a confusing guy. Most of the time I’m not actually sure if he likes me. He doesn’t smile or laugh. He doesn’t talk much either.

Maybe it’s obvious how smitten I am with him. I don’t think I could make it any more obvious. I drop hints for him like my life depends on it. He’s never really acknowledged or reciprocated any of them though.

“Large fry.” I grab the fries off the tray and a handful of ketchup packets. The crowds shift unpredictability. The food court is the worst part of the mall. Easily.

I shoulder my way through the crowd and weave through tables. “Here. Now, how old is she?” I drop into the seat and reach for the rest of my burger. “She’s six but she thinks she’s 16. That girl fights for independence like her life depends on it.”

Mike smiles a little as he talks about her. “You guys are close?” He doesn’t seem to mind talking about her. “Yeah.” Damn, I thought I’d get more than that.

“How much longer do we have?” Mike shovels his food. “Uhh… Five minutes.” A feeling of sadness actually washes over me.

“We should hang out after work.” That is the boldest I’ve been so far. It still doesn’t seem to faze him at all. “I can’t.” Mike takes one of my napkins to wipe ketchup off his face.

“Why?” The sting of rejection hits me hard. “I have to get Abby from school.” He looks back at the clock. “I can meet you somewhere after.”

“I don’t have anyone to watch her.” I’m taken aback by this comment. “What about your parents?” Maybe I’m prying too far now. “Look, if you want to do something you’ll have to come over to my place.”

Do something? I’d like to do a lot of something at his place. My stupid grin is too big to hide. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Mike nods and puts his trash on my tray. “I’ll meet you here and give you my address later then.”

I pull my sun visor down and open the mirror. Hopefully I don’t look slutty. Sexy but not slutty. He has a little sister. Maybe she’s actually his daughter…

That’s a bit of a stretch.

I check the time and shut my sun visor. My heart pounds in my chest. This is actually happening. I’m outside Mike’s house. About to go inside.

I used my employee discount to get a new lingerie set just for tonight. Not that I’m expecting anything or something like that… Just in case.

Mike doesn’t even liked being touched. Maybe he doesn’t like sex either. No, that can’t be it. Who doesn’t like sex?

It’s already five past four and I told him I’d be here at four. I turn my car off and step out. The small house has some random toys littering the front yard.

I make my way up to the door and ring the doorbell. Anxiety and anticipation fill my stomach. The door opens and I’m met with the brunette from his wallet.


“Hi Y/n!” She greets me like she knows me. Mike rushes up and pushes Abby aside. “Go finish your dinner.” He mutters to her before turning to me.

We just stare at each other for a moment. Mike steps aside and I let myself in. “Take your shoes off.” Abby calls from the table.

I nod and discard my shoes by the door. There are three plates at the table. Oh god… He is her dad. Her mom is probably somewhere around here.

“I made you a plate.”

“What?” I turn to him, my cheeks heated with blush. “I didn’t know if you’d eaten yet so…” He gestures to the table. “No, I haven’t. Thanks.” I make my way to the table and sit across from Abby.

My plate is filled with mac and cheese and a hotdog. “Sorry… Abs requested this specifically. I would’ve made something nicer otherwise.” Mike sits down at the head of the table. “No, it’s better than what I would’ve had-”

“What were you going to have for dinner?” Abby pokes at her food with her fork. “Don’t interrupt.” She sends Mike an annoyed glance.

I shake my head and put my hands up. “She’s fine… I probably would’ve had some leftover takeout.” Abby nods and looks over to Mike.

I look over at him too, trying to understand what the exchange of glances means. Nothing is said or given away.

The two of them go back to eating like they had come to a silent agreement. I follow them and start eating the food on my plate.

“Y/n you’re really pretty. I hope I look like you when I grow up.” My face lights up. “Oh my god that’s so sweet. You’ll be prettier than me when you grow up. I’m sure of it.”

Abby turns to Mike again. I feel like I’m definitely missing something here.

The rest of dinner is filled with Abby talking about her day. She doesn’t mention friends. Or talking to anyone but her teachers. The only thing she really talks about is drawing. Mike looks at her like she’s the only thing in the world.

I wonder if he’s ever looked at me like that…

“Can I come with you to work on Saturday?” At this Mike actually rolls his eyes. “You know you can’t. I don’t want to do this tonight.” He takes her empty plate and goes into the kitchen.

Abby throws her head back and groans. I’m not working this Saturday. It would give me an excuse to see him… “I’m not working. I can watch her.” I blurt out.

Both of them stop and look at me. “Really?” Mike walks up behind Abby with his hands on his hips. God it shouldn’t be as sexy as it is. “Yeah, I don’t mind hanging out with you at the mall.”

Abby turns to face her brother. I can imagine the pleading look on her face. When Mike looks away with a sigh we both know his answer. I continue eating my food to avoid the annoyed look I’m being given.

I sit on the couch alone. The tv is on but my eyes linger on the hall. Mike went in to put Abby to sleep. I’m prepared for the lecture I’ll probably get when he joins me.

Hopefully he isn’t too mad about it though. When the door clicks closed I turn my attention to the tv. In my peripheral vision I can see him walk over to the couch.

“Want some popcorn?” He asks as he sits down on the other side of the couch. “No, thanks.” I look over at him. In his sweatpants and tee he looks like a fucking gift from god.

When Mike looks over at me I don’t bother to look away. Part of me wants to make a move. To finally find out if he wants me too.

“Y/n…” My stomach turns over as he says my name. “Yeah?” I find myself leaning in closer. “I… Abby can be a handful and I can’t pay you for watching her.”

My heart sinks in my chest. “Oh, that’s fine.” I slowly sink back away from him. The annoyance of this avoidance starts to build up inside me.

Does he want me? Does he not want me? Is it worth losing him as a friend if he doesn’t want me? What could happen if he says he does want me?

“Mike I’m interested in you.” I blurt out, not even looking at him. He turns to look at me. I avoid his eyes. The silence drags on for ages. With each passing second feelings threaten to burst out of me.

None of them good.

“I should go.” I quickly get up and head towards the door. As I pass him, Mike grabs my wrist. He stands up and tries to meet my eyes. I avoid him still. Tears threaten to fall.

I don’t need the rejection to be said. His silence was loud enough.

“Please. You don’t have to do this. It was stupid, if I’ve learned anything about you it’s that you hate everyone but your sister. That’s fine. I’ll watch her and-”

“Hate you? I don’t hate anything about you.”

At this point I’m so overwhelmed with contradictory feelings the only feeling that I can clearly feel is nausea.

“What?” Finally I look at him. My breath gets stuck in my chest. “I don’t hate anything about you.” He repeats. “You… Are everything. When I’m alone you are all I can think about. All I can want.”

I exhale a shaky breath. “You do things to me that drive me insane. You have had me since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

I’m left completely speechless. The only thing that makes sense is to pull him closer. I wrap my arms around his neck and smash my lips onto his.

Mike drops his hands to my hips. He pulls me in closer so our bodies are pressed against each other. Our kiss is lustful and desperate. Neither of us can get enough of each other.

We stumble around for a moment until my back hits the wall. His taste is intoxicating. Mike moves down to kiss my neck. I take quick and shallow breaths.

The heat pooling in my underwear is unbearable. I squirm under his touch. With one hand I grab his hair, I use the other to stifle my moans.

Mike pulls away from me and takes some deep breaths. “Is this ok?” He asks obliviously. “Don’t talk.” I pull him back in and kiss him again.

“Wait. Not here.” He pulls me with him into his room. As soon as the door is shut he pulls his shirt off. His toned body is better than I could’ve imagined.

My fingers trace the shape of his abs, sliding down toward his v-line. His heavy breathing drives me insane.

I reach down and lift my own shirt. Mike’s hands slide up my body and push it off me eagerly. “Fuck.”

The only light comes from the street lamps outside his window. It creates harsh shadows that define every inch of him. I reach down and slide my fingers into his waistband.

As our eyes meet I’m sure our intentions are the same. I remove the last of his clothes carefully. Mike steps out of his pants and pulls me over to his bed.

He sits on the edge and pushes me down into a kneel in front of him. Without exchanging any words I took his tip into my mouth.

“Ohh fuck.” His rough hand grabs the back of my head. My tongue works around his shaft. I use my hands to carefully rub what isn’t in my mouth. “Come on. You can take more than that.”

Mike’s hand puts pressure on my head. I sink lower on his cock, taking as much as I can. “That’s perfect. Good girl.” His hand slides off my head and down my back. My bra is unhooked and slides down my arms.

My hands work to undo my pants. As I pull my head back for air I work them down over my ass. Mike watches me through half lidded eyes.

He tugs his lip between his teeth as I lower my head again. The taste of his precum fills my mouth. My pants sit at my knees. As I try to reach down to relieve myself, Mike grabs my wrist.

“Don’t.” His voice is husky and demanding. I obliege and instead grab onto his legs. The sounds of my mouth fill the room. Mike’s quiet moans push me to do more.

My nails dig into his skin as his tip brushes the back of my throat. Nothing I’ve ever dreamt of compares to this. To the lustful look he has in his eyes.

Mike grabs my face to stop me. My desperation for anything for him shows out. As I sit on his floor with my pants half down and no top, Mike looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world.

“Stand up.” He demands. I slowly raise myself up from the ground. My pants fall to my ankles. Mike lifts my leg and removes my pants then follows with the other.

God his attitude has never driven me this wild. His lips caress my stomach. My fingers twist into his hair.

My hand clenches into a fist as his fingers brush against my core. “Jesus.” The feeling of his rough hands being so gentle with me drives me insane.

I know he can do so much more. I wish he would. “How’s this?” Mike’s finger brushes past my clit. “Good.” My voice shakes as I answer him.

“Just good? You deserve better than that.” His breath is hot on my stomach. I toss my head back as his fingers rub me harder. “Ah!” My hand covers my mouth to shut me up.

“Like that?” Mike kisses my belly. “Yes. God, don’t stop.” I roll my hips with his fingers. The feeling of hush tongue on my skin drives me crazy.

I want to taste his lips again. Not only that, I want him to just fuck me. A raw fuck would drive me insane.

“You’re so wet.” I look down at him, grabbing his shoulder for support. With his free hand Mike strokes himself. His lips tug into a smug grin.

“Give me more.” My pleads seem to get him off more. “Please. I don’t want to wait anymore.” I continue. “Fuck.” His fingers leave my body and with a swift motion and has me down on his bed.

Mike places himself over me. He leans down and presses his lips to mine in a needy kiss. Our bodies grind against each other.

We both want it so badly and simultaneously need this to last forever. This feeling of desperate lust.

“How many times have you thought of me like this?” I whisper as we pull away for air. “A million times.” Mike moves down to my neck, sucking on the bare skin.

My back arches up against him as his teeth add pressure. I have work tomorrow. I don’t bother mentioning it. I want everyone to know how hard I got fucked tonight.

Our make out session ends as abruptly as it started. Mike spreads my legs, holding my thighs apart. He looks to me for a moment. I nod back.

He adjusts himself until his tip is pressed against me. My hand grabs at the sheets. As he slowly thrusts into me, my grip tightens.

Mike’s hands press harder on my thighs. Strangled moans escape from my mouth. I fight to stay quiet. My body responds to him with pure pleasure.

“Jesus christ you were made for me.” His head falls forward between his shoulders. Mike thrusts into me at a steady speed. We touch each other like needy idiots.

My head digs into his pillow. I’m surrounded by him. His smell is intoxicating. His sounds are addictive. His touch is breathtaking.

“Mike.” I moan, reaching up to grab at his back. ���Harder.” I hold him closer to me. Mike obliges and starts to fuck me harder.

“You’re so good.” He whispers, gripping my hip. How do we go back to normal after this? Do we? How do I keep my hands off of him after this?

“Turn over.” Mike pulls out of me with one sudden movement. I quickly turn onto my stomach. His hands grab my hips, pulling my ass up.

I dig my face into the pillow as I anticipate his penetration. When he finally slides back into me my moans are quieted.

“God, fuck.” He grunts as he builds back up to a steady rhythm. My legs start to slide apart with each thrust. Mike grabs them to steady me.

Warmth starts to build up in my stomach. I don’t want this to end yet. This hasn’t lasted nearly long enough.

My fists clutch his sheets again. I let myself moan more freely now that my face is in the pillow.

Our skin meets with a rhythmic clap. Mike tries to quiet it but doesn’t seem to care enough to change positions. Thank god.

I’ve never been fucked like this. I hope no one ever has the chance to fuck me again. This is it. No one could possibly be better than this.

“Are you close?” Mike groans. “Yes.” I choke out. “God your cunt is clenching around me.” One of his hands slides from my thigh to between my legs.

He presses onto my clit, circling his finger slowly. My whines start to creep out louder and louder. My orgasm builds up satisfyingly slow.

“Don’t stop.” I beg, laying my head in my arms. Mike continues with his movements. The feeling continues to build up more quickly now.

I feel Mike’s cock twitch inside me. His quiet profanities and grunts give away how close he is as well. I want to see his face as he finishes inside me.

“I want to see you.” My words come out more slurred than they should’ve. At first I’m unsure if he could even understand me.

Then in one swift motion Mike flips me over. His relentless fucking continues immediately after my back hits the mattress. Our faces are both damp with sweat.

His eyes lock with mine, his gaze piercing right through me. There’s nothing he couldn’t get from me. “You’re the most beautiful thing to ever walk this planet.”

I’m taken aback by his comment. Before I can respond my orgasm consumes my thoughts. My back arches up until we’re skin to skin again.

Mike slides a hand under my back, holding me tight. I sink my teeth into his shoulder to hold my moans in. “Fuck.” His grip gets even tighter. We both stay like this until our orgasms have passed.

I lay back down on his bed. Mike lays down next to me. We both stare at the ceiling while we catch our breath. I creep my hand over toward his. When our pinkies touch, Mike takes my hand in his.

“I like you so much.” He mumbles. “You don’t know how crazy you’ve driven me since I first saw you.”

My heart skips a beat in my chest. I turn my head to look at him. Mike looks over at me too. “I didn’t even think you liked me as your friend.” He did nothing to give it away. Ever.

“I don’t like anyone but you. You’re fucking mesmerizing.” He pressed my hand against his lips, kissing my knuckles.

If I’m dreaming don’t ever wake me up.

I lean in and kiss him again. His stubble contrasts my soft skin. The roughness he has is one of his sexiest qualities.

“Do you want to shower?” Mike whispers as we part. “With you?” My hand slides up to his shoulder. “I wouldn’t let you shower alone.” His smirk returns.

That fucking smirk. If he had flashed that at me any time before today I might’ve just grabbed him and kissed him right there. He doesn’t even know how sexy he is.

“I’ll go run the water.” Mike sits up and reaches for his clothes off the floor. “Here.” He slides his boxers back on then walks over to his dresser. I watch as he pulls out another pair of boxers and a tee.

“You can wear this.” As he drops the clothes on the bed he leans in closer to me. I meet him in the middle, pressing another kiss onto his lips. I’m desperate for his touch. Even after all that.

“Alright. I’m going to go get the shower ready… Come join me when you’re ready.” Maybe it’s too dark to see but Mike actually winks at me. Before I can ask him if he really did he’s leaving the room.

I collapse back onto the mattress. Jesus this guy is going to be the death of me.

[godslove]

𝐉𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐝𝐚𝐬

The Bible has many stories with great lessons, but there is one small detail that the scribes forgot to mention. Jesus Christ also loved Judas Iscariot. He asked God to forgive everyone in His final moments on the cross.

Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.” And they divided His garments and cast lots.

—‭‭Luke 23:34

Jesus knew the prophesies and what will transpire from the very beginning of their journey together, till the end. He became his teacher, taught him the Father's love, washed his feet, shared meals on the same table and loved Judas like a brother anyway.

As followers of Christ, we are to do the same. This is what will set us apart as children of God. We know the Father's forgiveness and Christ's redemption. We are to embody Jesus' compassion and gentleness in a world that does not know our heavenly Father's love.

“I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.”

—‭‭Galatians 2:20, Paul the Apostle

We are to love and pray for both our friends and our enemies, because Jesus loved and died for their sins as well.

‭‭“But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you, ⁴�� that you may be sons of your Father in heaven; for He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.”

—Matthew 5:44-45, Jesus Christ

I think the greatest test of Christianity is not only loving Jesus Christ, it's also loving Judas.

Like Judas, we are all sinners. And like him, Jesus also loved us. Jesus Christ is the ultimate example of what true Divine Love is. And it is far from the worldly, conditional love we know.

“This is My commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. ¹³ Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends.”

—John 15:12-13, Jesus Christ

To the child of God that is reading this, don't be so hard on yourself. My love, regardless of what you have done in the past, Jesus Christ also loved you unconditionally. He did it for you so that sin will no longer separate you from our heavenly Father.

So I invite you to see rightly in your heart what is beyond what scriptures, doctrines and laws written in books can teach, to know the embodiment of God's love that surpasses human understanding—Jesus Christ.

Jesus Christ loved everyone, including you. So if you love Him too, REPENT, before you end up like Judas.

[mayuslob]

Leander character analysis but i am 100% wrong

Okay so disclaimer this is most probably a huge stretch and me going insane over every detail BUT i need to get it out my system

Yapping below the cut be ready 🦭

Starting off with what made me start this, the Bloodhounds’ motto. When i was playing the demo for the first time, i was very caught off guard when they mentioned the sentence “as above so below” due to its religious context and meaning. This sentence is mostly linked with the character Baphomet, a satanic figure written by the author Éliphas Lévi on the book “Dogme et Rituel de la Haute Magie” translated to english “Dogma and Ritual of High Magic", written between 1854 and 1856. It can be portrayed in a lot of different ways, but the most embraced is that there cannot be heaven without hell (thus Baphomet pointing up and down), good without evil and viceversa. Now here it gets more interesting.

At first i thought they just chose this sentence for other motives, but then i started to dig a little deeper and realised that every single detail in Leander’s character is very much on purpose, specially his color palette and abilities. Let’s start with the colors which are directly linked to his powers:

Leander’s distinctive color is green, a dark desaturated emerald green to be exact. Emerald portrays good luck and balance in common symbolism, but it also can be tracked to this. See the thing is, the sentence “as above so below” doesn’t come originally from Baphomet, rather Lévi quoted it from a — not known to really exist— text called “The Emerald Tablet”, a story with different theories around its origin; the story revolving around a fictional character named Hermes Trismegistus (this is important for later). So here we have that the color emerald is directly connected not only to Leander’s palette but to the Bloodhounds’ motto. But wait!

there’s more

See this is where you ask, okay but what does The Emerald Tablet tell? well around the years it was most referenced, it was used by the islam and european alchemists and considered fundamental. Of course as time went by, the text was implemented in other practices such as occultism and magic. This is where the figure of Hermes is pretty interesting regarding Leander, due to his character being described as a “physician, a magician and a spiritual person”. That’s right guys, a fucking magician much like our beloved Leander.

Going further into Hermes’ character, he is a syncretic combination of the Greek god Hermes and of the Egyptian god Thoth, the god of the night, wisdom, magic, and the final judgement (plus others but these are the ones we’re gonna focus on). With this we have some things that could describe Leander, specially wisdom and magic due to his vast knowledge surpassing the Senobium (as mentioned by MC if you choose The Alchemist path) but we still have two things left, the night and the final judgement.

We know from the game devs that Leander is not a good person to say the least, just showing a façade of his true self. So i think that the fact that his fatal flaw is crossed out and this fundamental detail could be related to those two attributes Thoth has. PLUS if you see Leander’s outfit he is wearing a belt decorated by two moons, linking him to the night.

Leander is mysterious but strangely sweet to the MC, even after being aware of their power and danger, even to a point of growing overly interested in them. He promises us balance, a normal tranquil life, the answer to all of your problems. From what he has shown us so far he is very protective and even a bit obsessive, always insisting on Mc coming to him for help, giving us an impression that maybe he is more than meets the eye.

In conclusion, i think Leander will be a wayyyy darker character than we expect, greedy for knowledge — fact shown in his trailer silhouette quotting “mages lust for power, it’s always their downfall” — which is why maybe he’s so obsessed with MC. He wants wisdom he’s thirsty for it to insane extents we might see in his route. Also not forgetting Bloodhounds’ motto and its meaning, i believe we’ll see his version of what justice is and how if he is so good with us in the beginning, how dangerous is he in reality?? specially if both Vere and Ais have tried to kill him. I’m super excited for this game.

Im a 100% sure there’s things i’ve missed, so if anyone wants to add any info or theory they have PLEAASE do id love to hear.

Little detail i left out because i think it would be too much but Leander wearing a key on his outfit is so made on purpose i can’t elaborate.

[charmercharm3r]

Masterlist

prev: four, next: six

☆ﾟ

It was a good idea in theory. In reality, it was a shit show. Literally. Trips to Jeju are always fun, even if you’re supposed to be filming. However this time around you were informed that the group would be filming a parody of a popular dating show. Whose genius idea was that?

It would’ve been perfectly fine if your members were normal. To your pleasure or misfortune— it’s still unclear— they’re far from it.

There were no hitches the entire trip, traveling and the initial filming was as planned. You were assigned the role of a host while the boys were to be “dating” amongst one another. They followed direction as best as you could ask for with their limited attention spans, jumping from conversation to conversation and even getting in some teasing as the cameras continued to roll. You could already tell a lot of film was going to get cut seeing as they tended to get sidetracked into talking about incredibly personal details.

The “first dates” were going as you expected, you were instructed to go around and give them interviews to provoke more conversations when they started to fall quiet. Seungmin was indifferent the entire time while Felix tried to keep it as lively as possible, no doubt the former doing it on purpose. Jeongin and Jisung didn’t really even need you there as they practically forgot you even were— in their own little world. You got lost in the orchard when looking for Hyunjin and Minho, breaking the fourth wall a few times to ask the crew member on where to go, eventually giving up and wandering on your own for a little too long. Only to find Chan and Changbin sitting and have what looked like a normal conversation— they didn’t need much help either.

The looks of surprise and betrayal was fun to witness as they regrouped to pick who was riding with who to go to dinner. You got to pick whose car you rode in once they finished, and decided on Minho and Felix’s car.

Minho drives fast, which is even more fun when he takes off the child locks in the backseat and rolls down the window for you. You and Felix stick your heads out the window as he surpasses the other three cars, the both of you hollering at them with joy and barely catching a faint smile on Minho’s lips when you sit back again.

Everyone, including you, forgets that you’re supposed to be filming during dinner and goes silent as you eat. Until Hyunjin speaks from across the table, “Y/N’ie, I thought you were supposed to interview us earlier. Did you think we were so hopeless as a couple that you decided not to?”

His question threw you off, totally unexpected as your mouth was full. Half chewed and half hearted, “I got lost.”

“What did you say?” Jisung called at the other end.

“You got lost?” Chan chuckled at your right, the confession sending him and Hyunjin into a fit of giggles. The information eventually made it to the other side of the table and the rest of them erupted into giggles as well.

“It wasn’t my fault! Why were you two so far away?” You turned the attention onto Minho and Hyunjin, who shared an amused look.

When both of them simply shrugged, Changbin stepped in, “that’s okay. I would’ve stayed up all night looking for you if you got lost.” He beat his palm onto his chest and jutted his chin out with a nodding smirk.

“That’s nice, but you’re supposed to be interested in each other. It wouldn’t be a good look for the show—“ you gestured to the surrounding cameras— “if you showed more interest in the host than in the contestants.”

“But the host is always the most attractive one!” He exclaimed, throwing his spoon down. Your eyes widened in confusion of where this sudden infatuation came from.

You looked at your manager standing by one of the center cameras, he was laughing just as hard as the members, “I don’t remember this being part of the script.”

“It’s not a script!” Changbin’s chair scraped against the floor as he abruptly stood. “These are my true feelings! Do my feelings look like a joke to you?!”

None of the others were going to help you now, they all avoided eye contact and kept their mouths shut as you sought out a scapegoat for Changbin’s bombardment of affection. “If I say no, will you sit down?”

“No!”

Then it hit you, play along.

Your chair almost toppled back when you took to your feet, Chan stuck his hands out to catch you just in case. “Then yes!”

Jeongin let out a small, “what is happening?”

“You’re a joke!” You replied back to Changbin with feigned anger. “You broke my heart! Then you come on my show to rub it in my face!”

Everyone at the table was suddenly invested in where this was going. You glanced over at your manager and he waved his hands as though throwing up a white flag. Green light.

“Do you want to humiliate me? Is my pain funny to you, Seo Changbin?”

“I didn’t want our relationship to end but you pushed me to it! You forced my hand!” He shouted at you for two seats down.

“Everyone,” you dramatically looked the other members directly in the eye, “he cheated on me.”

Gasps erupted throughout the restaurant, including the staff playing into the story. They spoke over each other, everyone trying to get their words in as Changbin’s mouth dropped to the floor in shock. You forced yourself to repress a smile seeing the disbelief on his face, his reaction much funnier when he broke the fourth wall to look at your manager as well.

How could you’s and shame on you’s echoed throughout the restaurant, Hyunjin’s words particularly catching your ear.

“Cheating is unforgivable, how disrespectful. I could never be friends with anyone who cheats on their significant other,” his serious tone drawing in the rest of the table above all the jokes spewing about, all eyes on him now.

“Care to explain more, Hyunjinnie?” You and Changbin sat back down and gave him the floor to speak.

Hyunjin cleared his throat, “I can’t stand it. Just break up with them. If you truly cared about someone, you’d never, never treat them with that level of disrespect, even if you’re on bad terms.”

He was clearly upset now, arms crossed across his chest and looking down at his bowl. No one really knew what to say as his emotions were much more intense than the previous vibes of the dinner. As the host and since it was your fault the topic was brought up, you comforted him, “I agree with you—“

But Jisung adds fuel to the fire before you could continue, “I have something to confess.” Everyone turns to him. “I saw who Changbin cheated with. I caught them together.”

More gasps, fists slamming on the table, angry exclamations demanding to know more. “It was…” he paused and looked around the table, then stuck his finger in the direction across from you, “Hyunjinnie!”

Faking a faint, you fell back into Chan with a hand over your forehead. The oldest wrapped his arms around your neck and shielded you from the subject of the incoming yelling match. There wasn’t much you could really understand as everyone spoke over one another for the billionth time that night. When he released you, you faked wiping tears as Hyunjin went mute with his mouth agape.

“Any last words before we,” a fake sniffle, “move on?”

“I DIDN’T KNOW! I PROMISE!” He came over to your side of the table and fell dramatically to his knees, taking your hand and placing your palm onto his cheek.

“What are you doing, get up.” You tried to take your hand back but he only held on tighter.

“Say you forgive me.”

“You need to be on a drama with how dramatic you are,” you joke, trying to divert your attention from how tightly he held your hand made your tummy warm.

“I won’t let you go until you say it!” His eyes were beaming up at you with sparkles so bright, even the stage lighting wasn’t nearly as blinding. Part of you felt like he was apologizing for something he truly did to wrong you, you almost fell for it.

“Fine, fine! Forgiven. Get up and finish your food.” Hyunjin quickly kissed the inside of your palm, unsure if the cameras actually caught it, and went back to his seat.

Conversation shifting to something you weren’t paying attention to, lo and behold, your mind wasn’t nearly as focused as it should be. There was more screaming and yelling, mostly Changbin and Jisung, and you couldn’t even laugh with them because you were internally battling with yourself about his fucking eyes. Hyunjin’s eyes and how sincere they were, how soft and patient and agonized they seemed to be about a situation that was purely for show. It caught you so far off guard that when the members continued with the skit, you let them take the reins to do whatever they wanted.

By the time it was time to choose cars to head home, you were just going with the flow, not caring about the show anymore. What you needed was an ice cold bath. A freezing shower to get rid of the heat in your cheeks whenever Hyunjin’s gaze would linger on you for half a second longer.

That was exactly what you did as soon as the cameras were off and you were back at your hotel room. You rushed off to be alone and get rid of all the stupid thoughts that made your head dizzy because what the fuck?

It wasn’t like you were touch deprived, your members were practically an extension of your physical self. It was just the way he looked at you. Why were you so upset over a look? He looks at you every day, nothing new. You were looking back at him. Straight into his eyes. He was on his knees. Your hand was on his cheek. He was nuzzling his face into your skin. You almost leaned in. His lips looked so kissable. He did kiss you— your hand, at least.

Oh, it’s fucking over for you.

Knock, knock, knock.

The consistent rapping on your hotel door shocked you enough to pull you from the butterfly inducing realization. Just a robe on and hair still dripping, you rushed to check the peep hole to find the one person you didn’t want to see standing outside.

“Why’re you here?” You said a little colder than intended.

Hyunjin scoffed and held up the bag of chips and soda, “what a rude way to greet someone bearing gifts.” He pushed past you and threw the snacks on the bed along with himself. “Go get dressed, they have Netflix on the TV.”

You didn’t even have the will to say no, doing what he asked and changing into comfy clothes. Big sweats and a baggy hoodie seemed decent enough, and so did standing at the foot of the bed while he was sprawled out, clicking through the different movies. “What are you doing here?” You finally asked.

“Hanging out?”

“Obviously. Why?”

“Am I not allowed to hang out with you?” He had a point. “You were also really quiet at dinner.” Frowning a little, you sat at the foot of the bed and took the bag of chips. Admittedly, they hit the spot, he knew they would and smiled to himself when you visibly relaxed.

“That one,” you spoke again as he hovered over the movie you’d been telling yourself you’d watch when you had the time. Well, now you had nothing but time.

Cross legged and still on the edge of the bed, munching away while fully invested in this terrible movie, Hyunjin admired the way you’d copy the actress’s slight body movements when she was around the love interest, as if you were taking notes. Tilting your head, sitting up a little straighter, leaning your head on your palm, or tucking your hair behind your ear. It was utterly adorable and he loved being able to see you like this. Somehow, you forgot he was even there until the bed shifted behind you.

Suddenly there was heat, too much of it. You were suffocating with the obvious fact that you were not alone and haven’t been for the past hour. Hyunjin’s arm was bumping against the back of yours, seemingly innocent.

“Are you gonna share?” He said, chin brushing your shoulder as he gestured at the mostly empty bag of chips. You didn’t say anything, only holding it in his direction. His hand encased yours to bring it even closer to him, making your fingers almost shake with anxiety. It was nothing. Literally nothing. But it felt like everything.

“Open,” he commanded for the second time tonight. When did he get so close to you? You could practically smell his shampoo and body lotion. Dumbly, you faced him slightly and opened your mouth enough for him to slip a chip into it. Then unexpectedly, his fingers tipped the bottom of your chin up to close. “Chew before you swallow.” Your eyes followed his hand as it retreated, leading up to his own gaze that was already staring back.

The sound of your swallowing was comically loud, you wished the ground would open up and eat you whole. “I don’t want to kiss you,” you rushed to say.

Hyunjin smirked, amused. “I don’t want to kiss you, either.” His actions contradicted his words as his face unnoticeably inched forward. Warmth was swirling around you now, his shampoo, his lotion, his skin, his clean clothes, his left over toothpaste— “your breath smells like chips.”

There it was. Butterflies gone. You shoved him and his stupidly smug smirk harshly back by his chest and he thumped back into the bed. Immediately, you ran into the bathroom to rinse your mouth with mouthwash before coming back and attacking him. You were slamming the soft pillow into his body without so much as a complaint. More so, he was laughing, not even a wince because it didn’t phase him at all. It wasn’t enough. He didn’t get it.

Moving into a stronger position, you went from standing at his side to trying to hop over him onto the available bed space, failing miserably and flopping onto him instead. Chest to chest, practically straddling him, Hyunjin gripped your waist to keep you from falling off the edge. That also meant there was no where to run. “Now I really don’t want to kiss you.”

“But I really want you to.” His hands keeping you in place, the proximity, minty fresh breath— from you, at least. Your hand drifted to his face, ghosting fingertips up along his cheek to push his hair from his face. Another thing for the second time that night, he leaned into the touch, enjoying it much more than he should.

This felt like the right moment, right? This was how that girl did it in the movie. She did all those steps, the lean in, touch the cheek, brush the hair, what came next?

It was the actual kiss, the one part you couldn’t get yourself to initiate. It’s been too much teasing him, perhaps if you only just gave in a little— a slight graze of your lips against his, that’d be the ultimate power move. Payback for the emotions he made you feel earlier this evening. Just close enough to make his eyes flutter closed, make his breath hitch, make him pucker and wait for you to close the distance and feel one another for the first time.

That’s exactly what you did, and fuck, was it hard not to cave. His soft breath and pillowy lips, you almost did.

Knock, knock, knock. “Y/N’ie, can I use your hair drier? The outlet in my bathroom doesn’t work.”

Saved by the fucking bell. Hyunjin audibly groaned, annoyed that his perfect moment was once again stolen from him.

You quickly pushed off of his body by his chest and rushed to open the door, stroking your hair flat and revealing Jisung on the other side. He immediately went into your bathroom, not noticing Hyunjin on the bed lobbing his head back with frustration.

“Han Jisung, you’re the worst. I was so close! Couldn’t you have waited two more minutes?!”

Jisung, frightened by the unknown voice, peaked around the doorframe and saw the other boy. “Oh, was I interrupting something?”

“No—“

“Yes!” You shook your head with emphasis, holding up your hands like waving a white flag.

Everything else happened so fast. One second you were standing next to Jisung and the next, Hyunjin was rushing over to the both of you saying something along the lines of, “give me my kiss!” You had pulled Jisung in front of you without really thinking about it and put him into Hyunjin’s line of fire. The two smashes foreheads at the fast pace the older moved, both crumbling to the floor in pain.

With the way the night started, this was a solid way to end it— watching your two friends rolling around the floor in pain as you laughed your ass off at their idiotic tendencies. Then them proving said idiotic tendencies as one tried to— hopefully playfully— strangle the other, in which you don’t know who started all the rough housing, you’re just there to patch them up when they’re done.

☆ﾟ

A/N: don’t ask me where i’ve been idek LMAO. this is so bad im really trying to start writing again pls bear with me