#public speaking is already so stressful i don’t need this man to be on the verge of calling me the r slur every week alongside it

[jeonslvz]

♡1: Laced Panties

A/N: Love it, give me 24 more of this! He’s so sexy, cold and hot in this ;) . love a good pierce n tatttoed man, Jungkook only ofc ! yeah this was never ment to be a series, it was originally going to be random one shots collection. However I loved it too much and made it into a chaotic series, so hope you enjoy that XD!

WC: 6k!

Warnings: read here , for mature audiences.

♡♡♡ | NEXT

His hands slip up your skirt as you lean over his desk, the soft fabric of your lace panties teasing him through the thin material. You can feel the warmth of his touch as he slides his fingers beneath the hem, his eyes never leaving his computer screen.

“Lace ones today?” he murmurs, the question low and almost distracted. His fingers tug at the edge of your underwear before snapping it back with a sharp, satisfying pop.

You bite your lip, trying to stay composed as he types up his daily sales report. But you know, deep down, he’s enjoying every second of this. And so are you.

He smacks the lace against your skin, the sting sharp, making you flinch and gasp. His hand hovers near your heat, fingers barely brushing, before pressing closer, feeling the warmth radiating off you. He doesn’t need to look to know exactly what he’s doing—he can feel the wetness building between your legs, the way your body responds to him, even when you’re trying to stay composed.

“You’re soaking wet,” he mutters, almost to himself, before pressing a little harder, just enough to tease and remind you that you’re his, no matter how much you try to hold back. His fingers hover for a moment, savoring the control, before he slowly slides one inside, testing how easily you open up for him.

“I like when you dress up like this, baby. Makes me want you more” he teases, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You look like you need a good thick cock.” He pulls your lace panties down slowly, watching the way you tense up, your body betraying you before you can stop it.

You feel a quiet shiver run through you, breath caught in your throat. You don’t need to say anything, not yet. Your eyes stay down, head slightly lowered, but you can feel the ache between your legs, the pull of need that’s too strong to ignore.

He doesn’t need to ask. He knows how badly you’re waiting for him to take over, to use you the way he wants. And despite the hesitation, despite the way your body feels soft and unsteady, you’re already ready—your silence speaks louder than words.

He rubs the wet fabric against you, slow and methodical, like he’s releasing his own little tension. You can’t help but twitch, your body reacting even when you’re trying to stay still. His fingers work the fabric, pressing against your heat as his other hand continues to type, never faltering.

“Almost done,” he mutters, the words casual, but his gaze flickers up from the computer, landing on your bent-over form. “But maybe a little stress relief won’t hurt.”

He pauses, his eyes tracing the curve of your back, the way you’re trembling without even realizing it. It’s almost too easy for him—too natural. His gaze sharpens, taking in the way your body reacts to the smallest touch. You don’t need to say anything, don’t need to beg. He already knows.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, his hand still working the fabric against your damp underwear. The feeling of you beneath him, so pliable, is stirring something in his mind. His grip tightens for a moment as he watches you twitch.

He’s thankful you’re in the home office. The public one wouldn’t be so bad—maybe the stares would only add to the heat that’s already building between your legs. Your skirt, so short it barely covers you, and your tight shirt, the fabric stretched just enough to tease. Your breasts practically spilling out, your ass jutting out like you’re begging for attention.

It’s all his, though. Every inch of you, every little movement, every way you crave him to look at you. He doesn’t need to ask to know that.

“You’d like my cock in you like this?” he teases, his voice low, almost playful. His two fingers hover just above your entrance, teasing you with the slightest touch before slowly sliding in, the motion controlled and deliberate. He bites the inside of his cheek, watching you carefully as your body reacts to the invasion.

You’re trembling, every part of you aching to feel more, but you stay silent, your breath shallow. You know what he wants. You know the way he enjoys watching you squirm, your body so eager and desperate, but still, you remain quietly receptive, just waiting for him to push further.

You grind back against his fingers, mindlessly chasing the friction, your body already reacting to his touch before you even fully realize what you’re doing. The movement is instinctive, desperate, as if your body knows exactly what it wants.

Suddenly, his non-tattooed arm comes down, spanking your cheek with a sharp crack. You flinch, a soft whine escaping your lips as the sting mixes with the pressure building inside you. The sound of his hand on your skin is like a command, and you writhe under it, lost in the rhythm he’s setting, too caught up in the need to think.

He knows what you need. You don’t need to say a word.

“Keep going baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with teasing approval. “Use my fingers. That’s what you’re good at for me.”

He watches you closely as you grind back against his hand, your body moving with an almost desperate need. Every motion, every little sound you make, just drives him more wild. His fingers press deeper, stretching you just enough to make you whimper, but he’s not in a hurry. Not yet. He’s enjoying every second of it—watching you unravel, all because of the way his fingers move inside you.

“Such a good girl for me, doing exactly what I want,” he teases, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips as you continue to grind, lost in the sensation.

He lifts your skirt up, his eyes immediately locking onto the way your body responds to his touch. His fingers pump in and out of you slowly, watching the way your body shifts with each movement. You spread your legs wider, instinctively offering yourself to him, the sound of your breath shallow and desperate.

He lets out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying how easy it is to make you react, to have you spread out for him. “Look at you, baby. Just like I want you—so willing, so needy.” His fingers continue their steady pace, each movement sending waves of pleasure through you, while his gaze stays fixed on the way you tremble under him.

“Please- more, please- more!” You whine, the words tumbling from your lips without thinking. Your body aches for more, desperate for him to push you further.

“Such a good little thing for me, aren’t you?” he coos, his voice dripping with satisfaction as his fingers slide out, leaving you empty and aching for more. You whine, barely able to form any coherent thought, your mind clouded with the need for him.

He wipes his wet fingers on your inner thighs, a slow, teasing motion as he watches your dazed expression. “Look at you… so dumb, so lost,” he murmurs, his hand coming up to gently trace your flushed cheeks, fingers brushing over your lips. “Can’t even think straight, can you? Just a pretty little doll, needing me to make you feel good.”

You can’t even form a proper response, only whimpering, desperate for him to take control completely. Your mind is nothing but fog, your body on autopilot, all you know is the ache between your legs and the way his touch makes you feel so completely his.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with possessive satisfaction. “So fucking dumb, so lost in me. Can’t even think of anything but how fucking badly you need my touch.” His fingers slide out of you, leaving you aching, desperate for more. He watches as your body trembles, the way you can barely stay upright as the emptiness eats at you.

He wipes his fingers slowly on your inner thighs, his gaze hungry, almost frantic. “You’re mine, baby. All mine. You can’t even think straight, can you? Just a dumb little doll, letting me do whatever I want to you.” His hand finds your cheek, lifting your face to meet his gaze.

“You need me, don’t you? You’re so fucking needy, just begging for more of me, but I’ll give it to you when I want to. I own you, and you love it.” His grip tightens as he forces you to hold his stare, his words pushing deeper into your fogged mind. “Ah- so perfect for me, all soft, all mine. I could do whatever I want to you, and you wouldn’t even remember what it feels like to be anything else.”

You can barely respond, your mind hazy and body trembling, but he doesn’t need you to. His control over you is all that matters.

He turns you around with ease, like positioning his favorite toy exactly how he wants. One hand guides your waist, the other patting the armrest of his chair. “Up, baby,” he murmurs, voice thick with hunger. “Right here.”

You lift your leg, placing your foot where he wants it—obedient, pliant, trembling. He hums in approval, settling back in his chair like he’s about to enjoy a full-course meal.

“Let me taste it,” he says, eyes dark and fixed between your legs, voice low but dripping with need. “Been teasing me, getting your pussy all wet like that… you knew exactly what you were doing.”

His hands settle on your thighs, spreading you open like you belong there—because you do. Because you’re his. And he’s about to make sure you never forget it.

He leans in without hesitation, his breath hot against your soaked heat. Then his mouth finds your clit—latching on like he’s starving for you. His tongue moves slow at first, purposeful, circling the swollen bud before flicking over it in sharp, wet strokes.

You jolt, your leg twitching where it rests on the arm of his chair, but his grip tightens on your thigh, grounding you. “Stay still, baby,” he murmurs against you, his voice muffled but commanding, “I’m not done.”

His mouth works you over with practiced, possessive precision—licking, sucking, tasting like he belongs there. Because he does. This is his. The way your body twitches, the way your breath catches, the way your knees nearly give out under the heat of his tongue—it’s all for him. Always has been.

And he eats like he needs it. Like you’re the only thing that’s ever satisfied him.

His tongue doesn’t rush—he licks you like he has all the time in the world. Slow, warm strokes over your clit, like he’s memorizing the shape of your need. Each flick is deliberate. Lazy. Like he’s tasting something rare, something only he gets to have.

Your thigh trembles where he holds it, and he notices. Of course he does.

“Sensitive already?” he murmurs against you, lips brushing the spot he was just licking. “Didn’t even really start.”

His hands smooth up your thighs, slow and grounding, his fingertips sinking into your skin like he wants to feel every reaction under his palms. You can’t think. You don’t need to. Your breath comes in quiet little gasps, body trying to arch closer, but he holds you in place with just enough pressure to make sure you stay exactly where he wants you.

“You just stand there and be good for me,” he hums, tongue sliding back over your clit with devastating calm. “Let me take care of this dumb little ache.”

And he does. Patient. Possessive. Like this is what he was made for.

His grip tightens, fingers sinking into your thighs hard enough to leave marks—because he wants to leave marks. His mouth pulls away from your clit just long enough to drag his tongue down, tracing the mess you’ve made along your inner thigh.

“So wet,” he mutters like he’s disgusted and addicted all at once. “Fucking dripping for me.”

He licks it up slow, tongue flat and wide, collecting every drop from your skin like none of it should go to waste. And when he gets to the spot right under your entrance, he pauses—just breathing there. Hot. Heavy. Watching another drip fall from you and hit his chest.

“Yes,” he growls, almost to himself. “Look at that. Can’t even hold it in, can you?” One hand drags your thigh further apart, spreading you open so he can see it all, tongue sliding back up—over your folds, up to your clit, slow and filthy.

You twitch in his grip, but there’s nowhere to go. Nowhere you’d rather be. Not when he’s tasting you like you’re his favorite addiction, not when his hands are holding you like he’ll never let you go.

He stays there—mouth pressed to your clit, tongue teasing soft, slow flicks just light enough to make you shake. Not enough to tip you over, but more than enough to make you ache.

And he feels it.

The way you throb against his tongue, how your body pulses and tightens like it’s trying to beg without words. His hands grip your thighs tighter, spreading them even more, and he groans low when another pulse hits his mouth.

“You’re close, huh?” he mutters, pulling back just enough to speak, his breath hot and sticky against you. “I can feel it. Your pussy’s throbbing all over my tongue—like you’re trying to cum without permission.”

He licks back up, slower this time, dragging it out—just the tip of his tongue circling your clit again, barely touching, cruel in how soft he makes it.

“You’re gonna wait,” he says, voice dark and steady, like a promise. “You’re gonna let me feel you build, baby. Let it get messy. Let it drip. But don’t you dare finish ‘til I say.”

And then his mouth is back on you—deep, wet pressure around your clit again, tongue pressing steady now, slow enough to make your thighs twitch but still not enough to let you fall.

He’s savoring your desperation. Every tremble. Every throb. Every helpless gasp.

His mouth clamps back onto your clit, no more teasing—just pure, relentless pressure. Tongue working you over, lips sealed tight like he needs to suck the orgasm out of you. And this time… he’s not holding back.

Your legs shake, hips stuttering forward as the tension finally coils too tight to hold. He feels it—every twitch, every helpless clench around nothing, and that’s when he lets it hit.

“Yeah… that’s it,” he growls against your pussy, voice wrecked, breath hot. “Such a good slut, letting me lick her dirty pussy ‘til she fucking snaps.”

You break for him—mind blank, body jerking in his grip as the orgasm rips through you, messy and soaked. He groans as you cum, not stopping, not even slowing, licking you through it like he’s starving for the taste of you falling apart.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers, mouth wet with you, voice low and proud. “That’s what this pussy’s made for.”

And he doesn’t let go. Not yet.

He gives one last, slow suck on your clit—deep and lingering, like a parting claim—before pulling back with a quiet, satisfied hum. His mouth glistens with your mess, but he doesn’t seem to care. He leans in, places a soft kiss against your overstimulated center, then reaches down to pull your lace panties gently back into place, fingers brushing between your legs like he’s tucking away something precious.

He kisses your inner thigh—slow, reverent.

“Let’s shower,” he murmurs, lips against your skin. “Eat something. And maybe rent that new romcom we saw the other day.”

The shift is subtle but warm. Casual, familiar. Like none of what just happened has to be explained.

He stands, fingers brushing his keyboard as he clicks save on the report he was working on. Then he leans down, presses a soft kiss to your cheek—just a little longer than necessary—and meets your eyes with that lazy smile that only shows up after he’s had you completely.

“Come on, baby,” he says, voice low, affectionate. “I’ll wash your hair.”

You step into the bedroom first, feeling his eyes on you as you pull the skirt off, the cool air brushing over your bare skin. Your top follows, discarded carelessly as you stand there in just your lace panties. He watches, but there’s no rush in his gaze—just slow appreciation.

He follows behind you, his hand grazing your back as he undoes his shirt and pulls off his boxers. The clothes fall to the floor, forgotten for now as you both move toward the bathroom.

You grab two towels from the rack, the soft fabric warm in your hands as you head toward the bathroom. He follows, close enough that you feel the heat of him behind you, the subtle pressure of his presence always just there, like a quiet force that pulls at you.

The bathroom door clicks shut behind you, and you turn to face him, both of you standing there in the soft light of the bathroom. He steps closer, fingers lightly brushing your waist, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, voice low and steady. His eyes flicker to your lips, then back to your body, but he doesn’t rush—he lets the quiet moment linger, taking his time with the tenderness that always follows after he’s taken what he wanted.

He reaches for the shower handle, turning it to the perfect temperature before his hands are back on you—soft but firm as he helps you step inside the warm stream of water.

You turn around under the spray, water cascading over your chest, down your stomach, between your thighs. His eyes drop. He doesn’t bother hiding it.

His hand comes down in a quick, wet smack against your ass—sharp, echoing just loud enough in the steamy silence. “Good,” he murmurs. “You listen fast.”

Then his hands are back on you—one at your waist, the other gliding up your stomach, slow and steady. His thumb brushes under the swell of your breast, eyes locked on the way water drips from your nipples, catching in slow trails down your skin.

He leans in close, lips near your ear, voice smooth like it’s just a passing thought.

“Your tits look great dripping like that,” he murmurs, fingers brushing across one nipple, letting the water bead there. “Might need to get them pierced soon. Would look good… wet and shiny.”

He squeezes gently, not rough but firm enough to feel it—like he’s testing the weight of the idea in his hands. His gaze lingers, unreadable, lips parted just slightly before he drags his thumb across your chest again and reaches for the soap.

“Turn around again. I’m not done.”

And with no more words, he starts to wash you—slow, deliberate strokes over your shoulders, your back, down to your legs. Never lingering longer than needed, but never rushed.

Not indulgent. Just careful. Like your body’s his responsibility—even when he’s teasing, even when he’s quiet, even when he pretends he doesn’t feel everything burning under the surface.

The water keeps pouring, soft and steady, but he doesn’t move until you do. When your hands finally reach for the soap and trail up his chest, he just watches you—still, unreadable, like he’s letting you earn this moment with how gentle you are.

His body towers over yours—thick, carved muscle under damp skin, tattoos inked deep and dark across his arms and chest. The water traces every curve of him. Your fingers drag lightly along his pecs, then across the subtle glint of his nipple piercings. He doesn’t flinch, but he does breathe in, just once, quiet and sharp like a reaction he doesn’t want to show.

You wash him the way he washed you—careful, slow, like your hands are learning every piece of him again.

When your fingers move lower, past his abs, down the soft V-cut of his hips, he glances down—eyes lidded, mouth barely parted. You pause at his cock, already half hard and heavy, curved just slightly with the weight of the metal barbell piercing near the tip.

You run a thumb over it—just one soft stroke—and that’s when he shifts.

His hand shoots out, bracing against the wall behind your head, close enough to cage you in without touching. His jaw flexes once, like he’s holding something back.

“You touch me like that,” he murmurs, voice low and gravel-warm, “and I’m gonna forget we were trying to clean off.”

The threat doesn’t sound angry. Just real. Just hungry.

But he doesn’t stop you.

You trace around the piercing again, slower this time. He lets you. His breath hitches. The muscle in his arm tenses beside your cheek. He’s trying to keep still, but his body betrays him in small ways—hips angling forward, cock twitching against your palm, heat building between the two of you like it’s always waiting.

His lip ring glints when he bites down on it.

“You don’t even know what that thing does to you yet,” he mutters, the barest smirk at the corner of his mouth. “But you will.”

Still, he doesn’t move to take control. Just stands there, letting your hands trail over his body, the water washing away any line between slow affection and slow burn.

And then—quietly, suddenly—he turns off the shower.

“Enough,” he says, voice firm but not cold. He grabs a towel, wraps one around you first, then one around his waist. “Come on.”

He steps out first, towel slung low on his hips, water still glistening off the edges of his tattoos. You follow, dripping, skin warm from the heat, and he doesn’t speak—just reaches for the other towel and wraps it around your shoulders like it’s routine. Like you’re routine.

The bedroom lights are low, soft yellow spilling across the sheets. You pad across the floor, wet footprints trailing behind. Jungkook watches them as he moves—always behind you, always just close enough to make you feel watched, known, kept.

He sits on the edge of the bed first, towel loose, hair dripping onto his shoulders. You catch sight of the gleam of his nipple piercings again, silver catching against skin. His gaze flicks to yours as you towel off, slow and obedient, and his voice comes quiet.

“Come here.”

You step between his knees, and he gently takes the towel from your hands, drying the backs of your thighs, up your spine, and down your arms. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t praise. But his hands are warm, firm, moving with practiced ease—like you’ve always been this soft for him.

When he’s done, he reaches for the comb on the nightstand. Runs it through your damp hair in slow, careful drags, working through the tangles without a single complaint. His fingers brush the back of your neck, your shoulders, grounding you with every stroke.

“You hungry?” he asks eventually, quiet, like the day never happened and nothing was ever wrong.

You nod. Small. Barely there.

He hums, then leans forward to press a kiss—dry and warm—on your upper back, just below your shoulder.

“I’ll order. You find the movie.”

Then he stands, like nothing happened. Like it’s normal for his cock to have been in your mouth or his fingers inside you just thirty minutes ago. Like this is just how he winds down—with you clean, quiet, soft next to him.

But the way he looks at you while he buttons his shorts?

That burn is still there. Always.

Jungkook leans against the wall by the window, phone in one hand, towel still draped low around his hips. His other hand scrolls through the menu, the glow from the screen lighting his face in soft blue. He’s quiet, focused, only pausing once to glance over his shoulder.

“You want kalguksu or sundubu?” he asks.

You blink at him from where you’ve curled up on the couch, fresh panties on, one of his oversized shirts swallowing your body.

“Both?”

He doesn’t comment. Just presses a few more things on the screen. Bulgogi. Two noodle dishes. Sides—kimchi, pickled radish, tteokbokki. Drinks. He taps fast, familiar. No fanfare.

“You’re eating all of it,” he mutters, thumbing in the address. “Don’t go dumb on me after two bites.”

Then he tosses the phone on the coffee table and walks over. No words. Just slides onto the couch beside you and pulls your body into his without even asking.

His arm hooks around your waist. His hand rests low on your thigh. He smells like soap and steam, his skin warm against your back, and when you settle into his chest, he makes a small sound—barely there. Like something inside him unclenched.

“You find the movie?” he murmurs against your hair, lips brushing the crown of your head.

You nod and grab the remote. He doesn’t check what it is—just tucks you closer, drapes a blanket over both your legs, and lets his hand settle under your shirt, warm palm against your stomach. He rubs slow circles there. Absentminded. Almost distracted.

But he’s not.

He always touches like he knows what you are to him—even if he never says it out loud.

“You’re always softer after I fuck you stupid,” he mutters, low and almost to himself, lips brushing your temple. “Quiet like this. Calm.”

A beat of silence.

“I like it.”

“Love it actually “

And just like that, the movie starts playing, food on its way, his hand resting under your shirt like he owns that space now.

And maybe he does.

The movie plays. You forget half of it.

Not because it’s boring—some low-stakes romcom with pretty lighting and overacted drama—but because Jungkook never stops touching you.

His hand stays under your shirt the whole time. Not groping. Not pushing. Just resting, warm and steady, right beneath your navel. Every few minutes, he drags his thumb in slow, slow circles over your skin. Sometimes he lets it drift a little lower, barely grazing the hem of your panties, just enough to make you inhale quietly.

He doesn’t tease more than that. Doesn’t say a word about it. But he knows. You can feel it in the way he shifts behind you slightly every time you twitch, every time your thighs press closer together like your body’s asking for more without permission.

His breathing is calm. Deep. Like this is his favorite way to wind down.

Eventually, his free hand reaches for the blanket and pulls it higher around you both. He sinks a little deeper into the cushions and rests his chin lightly on your shoulder. His lip ring brushes your skin—cool, then warm—before he tilts his head to whisper.

“You’re quiet.”

You nod. You don’t trust your voice.

He hums, just once. Not annoyed. Not even asking for more.

Just observing you.

You feel the faintest pressure against your lower back. His cock, still under the towel, starting to stiffen again against you. But he doesn’t act on it. Doesn’t move his hand. Just holds you there, the same way he held you under the shower, the same way he looked at you when you touched him earlier.

Like this is enough. Like you are enough—soft, quiet, warm in his lap.

After a long pause, he murmurs, “You don’t even know how you get under me.”

It’s not a compliment. It’s not sweet.

But it lands heavy anyway—honest, raw, something he doesn’t say often. You shift a little closer, curl into his chest, and his grip tightens slightly around your stomach in response. Protective. Firm. His.

The room smells like clean laundry, the scent of his soap still lingering on your skin. The sound of the movie plays on in the background—forgotten, unimportant.

You’re still there, in his arms, tucked against muscle and ink and barely hidden restraint.

And you could stay like this for hours.

The blanket shifts as Jungkook shifts, one knee pulling up onto the couch, boxing you in a little tighter. You move with him, instinctively, your back still to his chest, thighs tucked over his. The hand under your shirt settles lower again. Not pushing—just reminding. He’s always there.

You hear the faint click of his jaw as he chews the inside of his cheek. He does that when he’s thinking. Quiet. Still. His fingers twitch once against your stomach.

Then silence again.

Outside, it’s starting to get darker. The apartment softens into shadows, city lights casting a faint glow through the blinds. The TV flickers, reflecting on his silver rings and the edges of his lip piercing. You catch the movement in the window reflection.

He’s not really watching the movie.

He’s watching you.

You feel his thumb slip a little lower. It rests just over the band of your panties now, dipping slightly with each breath you take. His fingers graze the softest part of your lower stomach, barely touching, but it grounds you—reminds you that you’re here. That he’s got you.

“Stop fidgeting,” he mutters low. Knowing what It means.

You hadn’t even noticed you were. Your thighs shift again, just barely, and he gently presses down with his hand—not hard, not rough, just enough to say stay still.

And you do.

You feel him breathe in through his nose behind you, long and slow. Like he’s savoring it. The stillness. The weight of you curled against him. The way your body answers to him without needing to be told.

Another beat passes.

“I like when you’re like this,” he says, almost a whisper. “All soft. Quiet. Just… letting me hold you.”

The words sit heavy between your ribs.

You want to turn and look at him, maybe say something, maybe not. But before you move, his hand slides just a bit higher again, resting flat across your ribs, thumb brushing the underside of your breast. Not squeezing. Not sexual.

Just claiming, in the most unspoken way.

Another minute passes like that. Two. Maybe more. You lose track.

And then—

A soft buzz breaks the silence.

He pulls his phone from the table, glances at it once. “Food’s downstairs.”

You nod. Start to move.

But he stops you with a quick tap to your thigh. “Wait here.”

You freeze. Watch him stand, towel still low, his back broad and still damp from the shower, tattoo sleeve glinting in the light. He pulls on a pair of joggers, grabs the keycard, and disappears toward the door without looking back.

You’re left alone, warm, legs curled under the blanket where he left you, body still humming from nothing but his hands and silence.

Still his.

Even when he’s gone.

The door clicks shut behind him, and the silence that follows is thick.

You stay where he told you to—knees tucked in, blanket pooled around your hips, body still humming faintly like he never left. His scent is on the throw pillow behind you, warm and woodsy, laced with the faint sharpness of soap and skin.

You let your fingers trail under your shirt where his hand had been, ghosting over the skin like you’re trying to remember the exact weight, the exact shape. It doesn’t feel the same without him. It never does.

Your thighs squeeze together without meaning to. Still wet. Still pulsing.

Not from anything dramatic. Just… from him. From the way he held you like you were precious and breakable and his, without saying a word of it. From the way he touched you like you were meant to be used for comfort, for tension, for the kind of stress relief only he gets to define.

You shift, trying to ease it, but it makes it worse—makes you ache a little more.

You imagine his hand still there, broad and rough and possessive in that casual way of his. His voice still echoing soft and lazy in your head.

I like when you’re like this.

You bite your lip. Whimper once, breath catching. You feel ridiculous for it—needy over nothing. But you can’t help it. That’s what he does. He winds you up slow. Gentle. With nothing but a glance and a palm on your stomach.

The apartment is dim now. The credits of the movie roll. Your skin is still hot. Your brain still soft. And you wait.

Right where he left you.

Like a good girl.

The door clicks again. You don’t move.

You hear the soft shuffle of the bags first, then his keys dropping into the bowl by the entrance. The lock turns behind him. Secured. Closed in.

He doesn’t say anything right away, just walks toward the kitchen, the low rustle of plastic and cardboard echoing against the countertops. You hear the fridge open, then the faint fizz of drinks being set out. Ice cubes clink into glasses. The scent of food drifts in—spiced bulgogi, fried garlic, kimchi, noodles, heat.

Still, you stay where he told you to.

Then finally—his voice, even and low, “Come eat.”

But not sharp. Not rushed.

It’s the same tone he used earlier, when he touched your stomach like a promise. The same calm control wrapped in warmth.

You unwrap the blanket slowly and pad toward him, still a little floaty. Still feeling the phantom trace of his fingers under your shirt. He glances up when you enter the kitchen—his eyes flicking down to your legs, your shirt clinging to the outline of your body. No bra. No panties. Just his.

He hums like he approves, then sets down a small bowl. “Come Sit .”

You do.

He passes you chopsticks without comment and starts unpacking the rest, sleeves pushed up over his forearms, tattoos peeking out beneath the hem. His lip piercing catches the light as he chews on the inside of his cheek again, focused, efficient. You watch the muscles in his back shift under his shirt as he leans forward, adjusting dishes so they’re easy for you to reach.

You pick at the noodles quietly. He watches. Watches like he owns the right to.

“Eat more,” he says, nodding at the bulgogi. “You barely touched your lunch today.”

You pout, just a little. “Didn’t feel hungry.”

His gaze narrows for a second.

Then he leans down, close, low. His hand touches your thigh under the table, just enough to ground you. “You’re always hungry when I feed you right?.”

It’s not about the food. You know that. He knows that. But you take a bite, anyway. And he sits next to you, finally. Not touching. But close enough to feel the heat of his thigh next to yours. Quiet again.

It’s domestic.

It’s dangerous.

And you wouldn’t move for anything.

You chew slower this time, lips parted, too aware of the way he watches. Every time your tongue slips out to catch a drop of sauce, his gaze flicks there. Then back to his own bowl.

Silent.

But not indifferent.

He picks up a slice of grilled beef, leans over just enough to hold it up between the chopsticks. “Open.”

You blink at him.

He raises a brow, cocking his head like he’s indulging you, not the other way around. “Don’t make me say it again.”

You part your lips, obedient. His fingers hold the meat still as you take it, warm and sweet and smoky. He watches the way your lips close around it, how your mouth moves when you chew.

“Good girl,” he mutters low, almost to himself, before taking a sip of his drink.

Your thighs press together. You’re not sure why that two-word praise does what it does. But you squirm slightly in your seat and feel the smallest smile tug at his mouth when he notices.

“I should feed you more often,” he says offhandedly, scooping more rice into your bowl. “I like it when your mouth is full.”

Your face heats up.

He chuckles—just a little. And fuck, it’s rare. That sound. Deep and amused, with the faintest edge of something dangerous under it. He doesn’t do that often. Doesn’t tease like that unless he’s already thinking about what he’ll do after.

You shift in your seat again, thighs brushing his under the table this time.

He doesn’t move away. If anything, his foot slides forward, anchoring between your ankles like a silent reminder. Stay. Be still. Be soft.

“You wore the skirt on purpose, didn’t you?” he says casually, sipping again. “Tight enough to ride up when you sit. Just short enough to keep me looking.”

You press your lips together, heartbeat skipping.

He leans closer, voice lower. “You like it when I look?”

You nod. Small. Shy.

He hums again, pleased. His knuckles brush your thigh—casual but intentional—and you suck in a tiny breath.

He doesn’t follow it up.

Just goes back to eating.

Like he didn’t just turn you into a flushed, pulsing mess over takeout and lazy touches under the table.

Like teasing you is the point.

[watermelonlicker]

some harries and louies on twitter said they’d unstan them if larry was real 👀

well we already knew that, those fans hate each other. the closet is designed for them to have a large portion of those kinds of fans so it hurts them once they’re able to come out. why do you think we keep preaching and saying we understand why they’re still closeted and how coming out will not be easy for them in the slightest? how that is bcos of the people who put them there in the first place and those people need to be held accountable and taken out of this industry. their money and power cannot silence the public which is why they need the public divided. if the public was united so many artists who don’t want to play “the industry game” could finally breath and you know… not DIE due to how much they’ve been broken.

like i cannot stress enough that a lot of people’s views are not their own in the sense they are influenced by the media and it’s propaganda. look at harry’s treatment over the years and what they think of him.

when i talk about the music industry so extensively (like it’s the only thing on here im extremely serious about cos otherwise i’m mainly unserious) it’s bcos i want to help the non-larries, the lurkers, and my iwtv mutuals to understand what is happening to us and how the extremely toxic and harmful messages sent to us by hollywood bleeds into the minds of impressionable people. these fans who would unstan bcos larry have somehow managed to give us their entire truths (which they don’t owe us) but is a perfect example of that.

the larries of my era, the heartbreaking majority who are no longer here and driven out mainly due to fandom bullying and exhaustion, tried their absolute HARDEST to educate people on the horrific shit that goes on in the music industry and how it effects the masses and how it’s damaged the boys in the public eye.

this might seem like repetitive speak cos obviously larries consume this day and night but the majority outside the larrie bubble literally do not know a lot of things. take anna todd for example, if some of you don’t know her she is the author of the absolute piece of shit book series called “after” which gets its lashings now of course after the woke movement (and thank god for that) but in 2012/2013 it was extremely popular particularly in the 1d fandom bcos it was a known harry styles fanfiction. this grown ass woman wrote a story not only sexualizing him as a teenager but writing him as a character in her head that was abusive/toxic/manipulative/but sexy in the sheets etc. young girls read this thinking they were getting themselves a harry, thinking they could go up to him and harass him bcos it’s what he wanted and what he said when he loves us. and the thing is… it’s what people believe of harry to this very day. it is why there’s always screeching anons in our inboxes painting him as the villain constantly.

this image that was created for him, and it is a dangerous image, is the complete opposite of harry. a shy queer sweetheart in a long-term committed relationship. the naivety of the teenager is what is preyed on by hollywood and it has led to people always crossing the line with harry. anna todd was a reflection of how pr infects the masses and now she’s a goddamn millionaire profiting off the closeting of a queer man while painting him as the bad boy het loser of her story.

it is an endless mess that we have tried to untangle for harry, to get people to understand the real him, but ultimately nothing will be done until people open their eyes. it’s why he used the matrix imagery for as it was his biggest song to date. the aiw mv literally spoke on how we are in a simulation and harry was dressed in red cos he wants us to take the red pill and WAKE up but most will continue to take the blue pill and keep it moving so they can enjoy their artificial FAKE world to the detriment of him, and so many like him which allows his closeters to remain the masters of the universe. i’m crashing out now and idk why this is long as hell and so far from what you said but yeah… this is our reality and it fucking sucks.

also side note i hope the rumor that harry got a restraining order on anna todd is true BAHAHAHA.

[0vergrowngraveyard]

some quotes from speech professor:

“if i tell you that 2+2=4 and you walk out of my class thinking that 2+2=5, you have a learning disability” (or maybe you’re just not explaining things as well as you think you are?)

“do you have a learning disability or is your head up your ass?” (talking about past students who were struggling)

“the one who’s playing with their hair without a care in the world and thinks i’m not gonna call on them” (TALKING ABOUT ME. I WAS LITERALLY JUST STIMMING?????)

[palmersluvr]

honeymoon with lu headcanons

──── ୨୧ ──── ──── ୨୧ ────

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ he’d take y࣪ou to sicily for your honeymoon of course, because he’d wanna show you where his family roots are, also because sicily is the PERFECT place for a honeymoon :,)

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ you’d spend your time hiking, biking around and going to various popular tourist destinations, with luigi constantly taking photos of you with his digital camera like the good traditional man he is.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ speaking of him taking photos of you, on your honeymoon he’d take soo many dirty pics of you, such as ones of you with his cock in your mouth, photos of you sucking your own cum off of his fingers and photos of you with him inside you ;)

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ you’d make so many dirty videos during your honeymoon, some of them would last for hours

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ the sex would be amazing, multiple rounds a day, sometimes you’d just have slow romantic sex, other times he’d be fucking you in pronebone (i’m so sorry, i saw the opportunity and just had to take it) while moaning into your ear about how happy he is that you’re finally his wife

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ whenever you’re at your villa you’re both either naked or in swimming clothes, no inbetween

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ he loves telling people you’re on your honeymoon, when you guys were on a tour of the valley of the temples he told the tour guide you guys were on your honeymoon and you were like 🙄🙄🙄🙄

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ you’d also take photos of him too when he’s not looking because he’s just sooo :(

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ at night when you’re not having sex you’d find yourselves cuddling skin to skin in bed together while you plan out your future :(((

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ there’d be a pool in your villa and because of this you’d pretty much walk around in your bikini whenever you’re there, which means that luigi would definitely be fucking the shit out of you multiple times a day, but you don’t mind one bit. you love it

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ you and him found this secluded part of the beach to go to, and made AMAZING use of it by having sex in a spot right by a bush.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ you were on top the whole time riding him, and he had his camera out recording and couldn’t get enough of how sexy you looked.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ “look at you, fucking your husband in public” 🤭🤭

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ your honeymoon lasted about a month, simply because you both have very stressful lives back home and wanted to get away for as long as you can

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ you’d tell him to not buy you stuff, you feel like you don’t need anything considering you’re already on your honeymoon with your husband which is enough, but he always buys you expensive gifts when your back is turned and you always roll your eyes at him and scold him, but you love and appreciate the gifts anyway <3

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ one time he lifted you up, opened the window, sat you on the windowsill and fucked you so hard even though there was a high chance that someone could’ve walked by and seen, but he didn’t care. and that’s how your first baby was conceived ;))

──── ୨୧ ──── ──── ୨୧ ────

i’m so sorry this isn’t longer i’ll be honest it’s because i ran out of ideas, but i hope u all like this regardless 😭❤️

my previous work

[deesseshesca]

PAC :How will your partner treat u during pregnancy ? (18+)

Foreigner ... Foreigner ...

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PILE 1 

Ace of wands

3 swords (reverse) 

First he is going to be hella proud. Like it boots his ego when he knows you are walking around carrying his offspring. Anybody that’s laying their eyes on you knows you are pregnant and y’all must be pregnant by them because everyone knows you and him go together real bad. No question required. Plus he is so giddy about eventually having the proof of your love walking around. I am hearing : ‘’ Yeah … I did that. Remember when I told you I was going to marry her and give her babies’’. Not in a cocky way but a more loving and boastful way. Maybe you were always the type of person to never settle, that would run at the thought of committing to one man, you would just throw up at the thought of opening up to a penis… Now what do we have here: a wedding ring and a waddling mother. Y’all may be in your maneater era don’t worry babe … enjoy. Mother era is waiting to be unlocked. Plus they are extra horny for you. They want you whenever and however. If you guys have a BDSM or quite experimental relationship, good for you. You will wake up often with a tongue between your legs. Which to some point will actually annoy you because y’all may suffer from morning sickness. I see you standing hair in a perfect bun (important to mention because in all my vision your hair is tight up. Maye because you usually have your hair down … who knows) and you are complaining about all your pregnancy symptoms, especially the heat. I am channeling a summer pregnancy for a lot of y’all , whether it be your first or your last. He just out here staring at you like a vampire in need of blood because all he's thinking about is taking you to pound town. Warning to all my future plus size mama, is going to be even harder for you. Your man is going to be IN LOVE with that ass. Everytime he sees you walk away, he grows a little harder. ( I am serious, let's hold hands for all our plus size baddies … Amen). Also his heart is overflowing with love. I actually see him going crazy every time he sees a cute outfit. I am hearing : ‘’ Babe look at this … Omg soo cute. No look at this is fucking cuter … No baby baby look … it’s say - I HEART DADDY’’. You just stand there behind with a tight smile blaming your mom brain fog because you know to always skip the kids section. Now the 15 minutes run has become 30 minutes and your feet hurt already. A lot of rituals will be created and you better not take his place. He loves rubbing oil on your stomach and after making sure you are sleeping … he always makes sure to remind the baby to allow you to rest. Whatever you need he’s on it. You speak once and it’s done. You can’t handle meat during pregnancy … ok the whole house is now vegetarian. You can’t sleep … ok he is dealing with the morning shift of the household. You hate when people approach you and public … ok activated mean muggin husband. You want, you got it babes. 

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PILE 2 

5 swords (reverse) 

Hierophant (reverse)

This news is going to bring you guys together. I don’t think there would be distance between y'all. But stress is winning in this relationship. You guys are both thriving in your profession and ego is getting the best of y’all. Like you both think that the other is not doing enough romantically and that you respectively are doing too much. Nothing extravagant nor toxic but the honeymoon is not honey no more. Still a lot of love but the focus is not it no more but more who is right. 

They are going to love seeing you work while being pregnant. Is important for you to go to work not because it is necessary just in your bones to work. So you want to do it until your body tells you to stop. They are going to support you to the best of their ability. They will prepare your outfit the night before, add belly cream in your bag, make sure to pack a healthy and big lunch for you and the baby, will try to always drop you off and pick you up from work. Lowkey giving house husband don’t be a fool he still very much a bossbabe himself because I can only picture him in suits. Y’all are definitely a power couple. Anyway he loves your dedication so he does everything he can to ensure the baby's protection and help achieve your goal. What’s wrong with y’all partner … they out here having the nastiest thoughts for all of you. First they are going to try to control their needs. I do think when y’all usually go at it … it gets pretty animalistic and they fucking love it. But they are trying to keep a distance between their thoughts and action but y’all are going to be needy and are going to ask for it. Not your men trying to keep it together while you are teasing him and you don’t give a fuck about it. I see y'all eating maybe at dinner with your friend and you ask ‘’ Are you going to fuck me tonight ?’’ Somebody is choking but your husband is unfazed.

 ‘’ I put my stiletto heels on today, you know how much they hurt my feet.

Babe I told you not to wear those’’, he adds while feeding you. ( By the way … y’all have a cute pouting face

But babeeee’’

The reality is he was actually scared to hurt the baby. He needs got darker and you’ve been needier and that’s a scary mix in his opinion. 

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PILE 3 

Ace of swords (reverse)

9 wands (reverse)

Y’all are not in a committed relationship when this bundle of enjoy arrives in your life. 

Is going to be a life changing experience. Like theirs is clearly before the baby and after the baby in his life timeline. I think he was always serious about his feelings for you but was too scared to end up hurt that he would push you away subtly. Funny enough I would be the first to call bullshit, I ain't never been scared to do that … y’all know that. STAY is not giving bullshit. Is giving a broken boy. He is scared you are going to walk away in his life or that he is going to lose his mind 2 just like the people that were supposed to raise him but end up abusing him. He keeps you away to protect you and you know it. Something about y’all relationship, y’all are not together but everyone knows it is just to 2 of y’all. He doesn't talk to no other, he doesn't look at other girls, I don’t even think he interacts with any other girl but you. You are the only one he craves, wand, need and desire but he is too scared to break you. So you accept the no name relationship so he can slowly come to term with the fact that you are not going anywhere. Then a miracle knocks on the door. I can clearly see their mouths wide open when they are listening the baby's heart. Like they just have a life epiphany. You are laying on your back like a stick observing nervously their reaction because you want to keep it. They may walk in extremely nervous and a bit dismissive but the sec that they heard that baby … they are coming out the most confident man. They change forever. They used to be apathetic about life and now they are all about living each day like it is their last. They will do extra shifts at work to give you the dream experience. Babymoon, baecation, push present, being a SAHM, everything is given. They don’t play about their baby's health, they are coming at every baby appointment, they are asking all the damm questions. They also don’t want drama around you. You know when you are pregnant everybody becomes an adviser which can be quite annoying because fuck off this is my baby. I am hearing: ‘’ I don’t want to breastfeed but your mama- ‘’Fuck what my mama said. Do whatever you want (name)”. I can clearly hear them going on and on about how all they care is to make sure they 2 babies are always fulfilled.

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4)IF YOU BOOKED A PERSONAL READING 6 DEC 2024 ON KO-FI PLZ DM ME ( I TRY CONTACTING YOU BUT NOTHING WORKS)

[halfwayhearted]

Jobe Bellingham fic where him and reader are seen together in public in the vip box for a Real Madrid match and everyone is seeing how sweet he's w her (laughing and sweet kisses). Also this is a warm family time, so like showing her yapping w Denise and Mark too would be cute

My Lover — Jobe Bellingham.

Pairing: Jobe Bellingham x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spending time with his family is the best way to spend your time; you really wouldn’t want it any other way.

Word Count: 655+

Disclaimer/s — Mentions offff, actually… wait, nothing!

A/N: THIS WAS SAURRRRRR STUPID CUTE FUCK IM SICK. I also don’t keep up with RMA matches but I did hear about Jude’s red card and wow, oooooookay dokay… anyways, hi! The ending was based off their win against Man City, I lowkey don’t know how I feel about this, but I hope you liked at least

The match was already incredibly intense, with numerous close calls, uncalled fouls, and, of course, goals. It’s what comes with the sport, you guessed. Still, it didn’t stop you from flinching and wincing every-so-often when something—

“What?! Did you see that?” Your boyfriend, Jobe, asked. He was at the edge of his seat, his hands gripping his knees until his knuckles turned white.

With a frown, you’re quick to reply, “Jobe, babe, it’s stressful, I know—but you need to relax,” you tell him quietly. “You’re only hurting yourself.”

Offering you a glance, his expression softens, and he shoots you a small, embarrassed smile, leaning back to place a quick kiss on your hair before relaxing his frame. “I’m fine, I promise.”

“What’s funny is Jude does the same thing,” his mom, Denise, remarks with a touch of feigned annoyance in her tone. “Got it from their father.”

You let a laugh slip past your lips as you look over at her. “They did! I think he’s doing it right now.”

The older woman glances over, and both of you burst into a full-on giggle fit at the realization that you were right. He was. He shifts his focus once he catches your gazes, his eyebrows knitting together in complete and utter confusion. Denise covers her mouth while you hunch over your seat, laughing uncontrollably and ignoring the comforting feel of Jobe’s hand rubbing your back.

The sight of the two of you in hysterics only adds to the humor, and his grin seems to widen more.

It was quite a sight, for sure. He couldn’t be more pleased to see his mom and his girlfriend getting along so well. He had already known that it would be a done deal, considering you and him have been together for a while and you and his mom have shared countless laughs with one another. Still, it didn’t stop him from feeling like it was the first time all over again. This was, well, everything.

“What? What are you guys laughing at?” His father questions, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Whatever it was must’ve been hilarious.

The man beside you gives a sheepish expression. “It’s nothing—it really wasn’t that funny, guys.”

“Speak for yourself,” you say with a sigh, sitting upright and trying to catch your breath. “Oh, my God.” You spare her another glance, quickly looking away when you realize you’ll continue to laugh in their faces. “He’s right, it was nothing!”

Denise nods. “Just continue watching the game.”

As soon as you all focus back on the match at hand, there’s a foul called, causing both Jobe and you to furrow your brows. It all happened so fast that his dad saying your name, asking what happened, made you turn to him. “He stepped right on the back of his heel. Look—” you pause, pointing to the screen with a grimace. “Ouch.”

“How reckless!” He exclaims. “Did they call it?”

Jobe peeks over your head. “Not this time.”

The man takes the answer with a frown, turning his attention back to the pitch right when Vinicius races through on goal, darting in front of an opposing player. Their keeper rushes out, but he lifts the ball over him. It’s going wide, but Jude is already there to tap it into the empty net and…

GOAL! During the ninety-second minute. A win!

The four of you jump up from your seats almost immediately, cheers erupting from your lips. The stadium, once extremely tense, is now completely alive with excitement and overflowing with joy.

Seeing his brother’s celebration was enough to make him chuckle amidst the chaos. He threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. You laugh against him, your own arms quickly wrapping around him. “He showed up!”

“Of course he did,” Jobe replied shortly after, placing a delicate kiss on the crown of your head.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @pedriache + @spidybaby + @lechrts + @levidazai + @iovepoem + @sakashq + @joaoflms ! ౨ৎ (errrr, again, this is from a bit ago, hello!)

[lil-binuu]

MORE ELIAS HEADCANONS!!! 😼

- he has a big nose. i know i already made a post about it i’m just a sucker for it FUCK AHAHSHSHDHJF HE’D LOOK SO YUMMY

- he would def be the type to leave post it notes around the house with cute (and also spicy) messages for barista to find EUGHHH HES SO CUTE

- go out of his way to make them blush or smile. it’s a goal for him. a bonus if he get you to laugh, then he’s won at life.

- someone else said it too, he gives latino vibes and he’d flirt with you constantly in spanish especially if you don’t understand a single word. you’re just sitting there dumbfounded as he’s splurting his love for you in spanish and you have no idea

- would get matching tattoos with you

- i think he’d also like those permanent jewellery too and get one with you (hehehehehe you should totally read my fic permanently mine 😻)

- (for female barista) saku confirmed it, elias would be comfortable shopping for period products and wouldn’t think twice to get you what you need

- would do your skincare together, like face masks, it would become a nighttime and morning routine for you two together

- would buy you jewellery and if you bought some for him, you would never catch him without it on

- when you go makeup shopping, he is glad to be your personal palate. please cover him in lipstick stains

- i feel like he would be the type of guy to, with his friends, dress up and wear skirts and crop tops for a joke

- we know he doesn’t care what others think, so he wouldn’t hesitate to put his arm around you or show affection in public

- if you worked at another cafe or restaurant he would def go visit you. he easily becomes your most regular and loyal customer. all your coworkers would be convinced that he just has an unhealthy obsession with their food/drinks (but actually his obsession is just you 😉)

- wrestles you on the daily. and we all know how it ends.

- he’s the type of man to cook for you. if you’re hungry, he’s a michelin chef.

- if you were really bad at a game, maybe maybe he’d go easy on you :))

- i feel like he knows how to calm you down and help you in a time of panic or stress, i feel like he’s probably had a lot of experiences of his own panic attacks (like when he described having a nightmare and running away to a park) he’d hold you tight and whisper all the right things and you’d know that you could just relax into his arms and let him look after you

- i know he likes the danger of speeding down roads on his bike, but i think especially the first couple of times you go on his bike he would make sure to not go too fast or be too risky with you on the back.

- can’t stop his eyes wondering over your body and honestly, he wants you to see how into you he is

- we know he feels negatively about himself for being weak, particularly too weak to save his mother, so i think it’s likely that he might feel embarrassed to cry or like he’s weak for crying. especially because his father would have very rarely cried in front of him, elias wouldn’t have grown up feeling like he could express his emotions very well and so he would bottle it up for when he was alone and could smoke his problems away

- speaking of smoking, i’d like to think that he would try restricting himself from smoking the second he gets even a glimpse of a wrinkled nose from you disliking the smell

- cover him in hickeys. please. he finds it so hot that he’s yours and everyone knows it. wants to parade them around like a medal.

- i feel like he’d take your trust very seriously, especially when he saved you from brewhouse as a complete stranger, he knows that you’re in a foreign world and don’t know who to trust, so he’d value your trust in him a lot.

okie that’s it hehe hope you enjoyed 😻💕

@xzhdjsj @belladonnadawn @meraki-kiera @peppymintdreams @xxminxrq @dollsprincesa @xxluneilaxxaus @penelopesbaby @shelllyy

[cloveroctobers]

NO STRESS — Armando Aretas [Fall Crumbles] 🤎

A/N: Going back to my roots of my first official drop on this man, which was a angsty-based Armando piece. It’s a kinda short thing and what I do best! Believe me I’m not pushing for a sad girl autumn by any means and I don’t think this is that?

WARNINGS: Language! + Moving onto bigger things? You tell me. Definitely inspired by current events but this won’t be too deep on that, especially if you’re looking for a break, yet I always find Novembers to be full of grievances but still looking at the positives towards the end of the month and thanks to this album dropping during this time…also helped inspired these chapters I’ve been writing.

SYNOPSIS: Set some time in the future in which every state in the U.S. solely has a president now and Armando Aretas holds that title. What happens when your easy going or dysfunctional? nature becomes too much after Armando’s new actions hits headlines?

ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ

“Mami, don’t piss me off.” Armando spews at you, eyes locked on you from the moment you walked through the doors of your shared palace.

The way you sauntered along the marble floor, natural sway in your hips, with a strut in your step as your heels clacked along the texture, and your jacket slightly hung off your shoulders as you made your way over to the grand table, implied you were onto something lethal.

You oozed luxury as you took your seat so elegantly at the opposite head of the table, fixing your Prada shades back along your fresh silk press, all while beaming to your right, Mike’s hand going out to grab yours with a smile, as you almost pressed your glossed lips to your other fingertips to silently kiss at him in greeting.

One of your young servers—named Romil—you did the simple task of learning all of your employees names, immediately came to your left, your fizzy speciality already awaited for you in a flute glass, which you plucked into your grasp and always thanked your workers with a warm smile, “Thank you, Rom.”

He quickly sent a smile your way with a dip of his head before moving to stand away from the table in one of the corners. The servers were always supposed to give those at the dinner table space, waiting hand and foot on you. At times you found it ridiculous, knowing you can do these basic tasks on your own, (which you often did) especially on holidays when they should be off with their own loved ones, but you always made it a oath that they were included on gifts every year.

As the First Lady of Miami (Technically it was Florida but “Miami” just sounded better, especially since that’s where you all resided), it was not in your nature to ever treat anyone as less then. You were not that type of bitch, Lady of Georgia, the nasty shady Southern Belle, gratefully held that title.

A loud clearing of a throat and a side of a fist hitting the table, made the utensils on the table jump, and eyes turn to Armando, except for you who took your time facing your husband as you swallowed the Prosecco.

“Excuse me? Did you hear what I said?” Armando hissed.

Your smile could make anyone weak in the knees but Armando looked right past that since you were irking his nerves, “Hello to you too, baby. And No, I didn’t. What’s wrong?”

The way Armando’s eyes went into slits while resting his elbows on the table and pressed his clasped hands to his lips for a moment made his father, Mike Lowrey mumble to himself, “Oh shit.”

“What’s wrong?” Armando repeated, “Where were you huh? You weren’t there at the press meeting—

With a dramatic sigh you interrupted as you picked up a utensil to stab into the kale salad, “You mean the press meeting where they slaughtered you for the fuck shit you’ve been pulling? Why would I need to be there for that?”

Armando raised his brows, “You’re my lady, did you forget? You’re supposed to be beside me whenever I speak to the public, why are you acting brand new?”

Covering your mouth as you let out some laughter, you finished eating your portion of an appetizer, “That’s the thing, I’ve been by your side and when I don’t want to? I won’t be. I had better things to do today. It’s that simple.”

Armando’s eyes went to everyone else at the table, to make sure that he wasn’t hearing things. It shouldn’t be a shock to him, neither of you two were strictly by the book and marched to your own drums, just ask the people of the state who were not a fan of you two, they automatically felt like Armando was and still is a crook. Then there were those who felt like you could do better.

The opinion of sheep in some cases, right?

He was just a businessman that got shit done.

Like it or not.

“A First Lady’s obligiation is to be involved in social affairs. That’s just one of many.” Armando states which makes you tilt your head to the side, laughing once more.

He should be the last one preaching to you.

“Sure and my obligation today was to prioritize self care.” You inhale as you return back to your plate of salad, “I’m glad that I don’t have to beg for your attention, since you apparently miss me so much that you care more about how the public is labeling you. That’s something you should have thought about before you picked the streets over your queen, no?”

Armando immediately knew what you were getting at. It was tossed at him by one of the journalists who outed that the woman Armando was seen spending many outings with behind your back, had been talking about their quality times together for the right price. Fresh off the press, it was something you were aware of at 2 this morning which was sadly confirmed by Dorn over the phone before it hit news.

You had no issue collecting your things around 5 in the morning, when you could have slapped Armando awake but you couldn’t bring yourself to be blind sided. It was suspected every time Armando extended his trips in Key West. You can’t fix stupid and choices have consequences. This has all come to a hilt and this is exactly what the people wanted, to see you upset so why bother trying to save face when you already knew the truth?

“Maybe we should let you two have this conversation in private?” Theresa, Marcus’ wife speaks up, already placing her handkerchief on the table.

Shrugging your shoulders you say, “We’re all a family here right? What happens in the palace stays in the palace. Except…not with what’s her name? Dinah. Thee aspiring photo journalist who comes from a lineage of racist assassins…I know her family is having a field day with this one. How many nights did you let her stay in one of these rooms or better yet, our bed?”

“It was never our bed.” Armando snaps, making Marcus widened his eyes, and lightly scratch at his ear at what his new nephew let slip through his lips.

This time you cackled with your head thrown back.

Armando glared at you, “I don’t know what you’re laughing at because ain’t shit funny.”

Wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, you nod in agreement as you stared over at your husband in the dim dining hall, “You’re right. It’s hilarious because I just realized I can’t be bothered anymore.”

This is what November’s are for. Saying no to things that no longer have use to you. Getting rid of things to allow the growth to start all over again.

So why was this man playing in your face?

It did sting because it felt like your time was wasted, with a man that should have loved you better. If he wanted to play around, he should have just said that instead of trying to make you out to be a fool. Shouldn’t have even married you if he was going to later second guess your time together. Maybe that wasn’t Armando’s intentions but you just didn’t have the energy to do too much back and forth tonight.

The both of you got into this position of power because of Armando’s mother mainly. Isabel and her husband, Benito—although Mexico City natives—had strong ties to Miami but with their power was also handed down to Armando. It turns out that this was what they were training Armando so hard for as a kid. It was an ugly business, gritty and brutal with the way it turned out but with the way the government was forever changing? Thanks to Benito who had connections with the (dirty) American government, Armando was next in line regardless and knew if he didn’t take his shot, he would miss out on this big opportunity and he wanted nothing more than to take you right with him. Once upon a time, Armando couldn’t picture anyone else ruling this state with him.

Power can make you do questionable things and Armando unfortunately fell into that.

“What does that mean?” Armando quizzed.

“It’s means you’re not as calculated as you think you are,” you pointed the fork in his direction, “And I’m going to move on. Consider this a lesson learned.”

Armando tightened his jaw at your words, “I should have known that you’ve been working against me.”

“No, no. Don’t try and spin this.” You express, “I’m the only one that gets to point fingers. I loved you through your flaws, which is why I don’t love you any less after you’ve been shitting where you shouldn’t eat. You don’t know who to trust and I’m your wife. We’re supposed to be some sort of a union but I guess we’re not. Doesn’t that sound problematic to you?”

Armando scoffed as he let his back rest against the extravagant chair, “What’s problematic is you secretly plotting against me.”

Kelly can’t help but to step in, although Dorn attempts to firmly squeeze her thigh underneath the table, a signal for her to not get involved but she shoves his hand off her, “Look Armando, I’ve been working with you for a good while on this term and your paranoia is out of this world. We can blame your mother for that sure but you got to work through that shit at some point man. You got in your head and now look at you, about to lose your wife. Someone you loved enough to want to spend an eternity with just to let this presidency get to you. It’s clown behavior, I’m just saying.”

“Well nobody asked you, Kelly.” Armando muttered with a strong side eye.

“I don’t care.” The dark haired woman sassed, “I’m not going to be the one enabling you. You’re a dumbass.”

That made you smile.

Kelly scrapped her chair back, looking at all the faces that sat at the table, “And neither should the rest of you, especially you two.” She stared hard at Mike who raised his brows at Kelly’s usual bluntness and Marcus who raised his hands in innocence, “I know where I’m going once you don’t win a second term.” She finishes, looking at Armando one last time before giving you a sharp nod and taking her exit.

Armando stared after her in disbelief, although his usual blank facial expression shielded that well. Yet when he settled his eyes on Dorn, who looked torn, since the two managed to build a solid friendship and partnership—it was actually Armando, Dorn, and Reggie that were the main faces of his term.

“Sorry man,” The blond found himself apologizing but Armando just shrugs his shoulders, knowing Dorn had no true aim on leaving—at least he didn’t have that conversation with Armando.

Wait a minute…

Armando tightened his gaze on you, “You mind telling me what Kelly is getting at?”

It was your turn to shrug your shoulders, “Not everyone can be yes men, ladies, or people. People want balance, I wanted balance. You couldn’t even give me that because you value chess over love and it’s really sad.”

The tone you were taking with him, speaking so at ease with a wicked smile at the corner of your lips, and the glint in your eyes did not feel warm. There was a chill right underneath it. The longer Armando searched your eyes, he started to feel his heart race.

And not in a good way.

“Oh those gears are turning now aren’t they, Mr. Soon to be Ex-President?” You grinned.

Armando stands up so fast that he knocks the chair he was sitting in back, “You can’t be fucken serious?!”

Giggling, you dabbed at the corners of your mouth, “Why wouldn’t I be? Always best to be a few steps ahead right? That is what you once said. And I have you to thank for that, so, thank you. Thank you for making me realize what’s worth my time since I’m not yours. Are you ready to be my First Gentleman?”

Armando felt his eye twitch at the ball you just dropped. “Did you know?” He turns to his father.

Mike shakes his head, “No ‘Mando I didn’t but can you fault her?”

“So you’re taking her side?!”

Christine speaks up so her husband didn’t also raise his voice, “Honey, I know you’re upset but let’s turn it down a notch and just hear each other out.”

Before Armando can say more, you shake your head, “I don’t have anything else to say quite frankly. I’m running and if I don’t win then that’s fine too but as long as you don’t get a second term? That’ll be even better. Too much stress isn’t good for the baby.”

All the older adults whipped their heads to you at this news.

“What did you just say?” Mike splutters out.

Christine and Secada both shared a deep frown.

Marcus said, “I know I’m in no position to ever speak on a woman’s body…were you not just sipping on some fizz?”

You scanned all the faces in the room, and the amount of times Armando caressed his facial hair made you think he was about to pass out.

“Ah, I had y’all going didn’t i?” You winked, which visibly made everyone relax, “Can you imagine? Me trying to take over the world while carrying a heir? Real queen shit but…hopefully Dinah doesn’t pop back up talking about a bundle of joy of her own within the next few days because I might just actually have to bury your ass, and pretend you went missing, I don’t know.”

You said all this with a smile that made Christine share a worried glance with Theresa who couldn’t blame you. Reggie quietly finished his meal, wanting to finish it all before they all got kicked out but it’s not like he would have said much in the first place but he was definitely listening. He was the only one who knew what Armando was up to with Dinah until you approached Dorn to gather information (hack into Key West’s cameras and common areas Armando would be at out there) that was slowly about to released into the world.

“Don’t joke like that.” Armando muttered, palms flat on the table.

You blink, “Why? You took this marriage as one.”

Armando shakes his head, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, so we’re gaslighting now? Were you or were you not involved with another woman?” You interrogated.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” Armando tried to tell you, he wasn’t physical with Dinah at all but if he looked back at it, it was still a form of cheating.

“Screencaps say different. Yapper Dinah says different…but no stress…maybe there will be a divorce or open marriage if that’s more your speed…I’m not sure what I’m feeling just yet though. TBD?”

Armando clasped his hands above his head, low lidded eyes settled on you as he tried to control his breathing, “Are you loca?”

“Nooo! Don’t say that.” Mike immediately shook his head already aware that was the wrong thing to say, shifting his gaze from a collected you and his iritated son.

Marcus also tried to intervene, “Nope.”

Instead all at the table watched you give off another round of laughter. This was not a good sign, it sounded chaotic and everyone can sense you were over it.

Resting one arm along the table and resting your cheek against the knuckles of your other hand you respond, “I could show you but I’ll let the universe do her thing, baby.”

With that you take your entree plate and start to leave the table but not without saying over your shoulder followed by a wave, “Thanks for coming to dinner everyone, my apologies for my late arrival but most importantly, I’m sorry Arman wasn’t the best host. Have a great night, I know I will.” You sing-song, feeling giddy at tonight’s plans.

Armando began to walk after you but Mike was already up and on his feet as well. He latched onto his son’s shoulder, “Aye, you gotta eat this one. Let some steam off before y’all can have a civil conversation, without us being your audience, ya know?”

“You might need some witnesses just in case she murder yo ass.” Marcus attempted with a chuckle, just to be slapped on his chest by Theresa, “Ow! Y’all all heard what she said right?”

“Shut up, Marcus.” Theresa tells her husband before Mike can.

Armando felt his eyes close once the guards shut the door behind you. You being out of his life out of something so one sided, was frustrating and not only that? Now you wanted to run against him during the next election? Then on top of that, you were considering ending this marriage and being so at peace with it too? That didn’t sit well with Armando.

So yeah, he was stressed.

“You know, you screwed up right? When a woman is that calm over your mishaps…that means deep shit.” Secada tells Armando at the front door of the palace, who huffs and rolls his eyes, “Hey as your SecDef who did just see you get your ass handed to you, again, I’m just stating the obvious and trying to help.”

“If I wanted your input, I would have asked.”

“Don’t take it out on me.” Secada affirms, “Usually your defense is better than this which already tells me, whatever you got yourself wrapped into with Dinah, is clearly messing up your judgment and now there’s consequences.”

Armando waved his hand along, still holding the front door open, “Tell me something I don’t know, General.”

Secada placed her hands on her hips as she now stands outside, “…Sitting on top of the world can be lonely, Aretas. Look at your mother—hell just talk to Mike. Don’t let that be your story when you truly have someone who only wanted to be loved by you and has loved you in return.”

“…Heard you.” Is all Armando says with a dip of his head, and Secada can tell that he was taking that part of her words in.

With a final hug of the night to tía Theresa, Christine, and a unwanted one from tío Marcus, Armando shares another somewhat lengthy chat with Mike on not pressing the issue anymore but after Armando remembered that you were trying to go out tonight, that went in one ear and out the other.

He wasn’t shocked to not find you in the primary bedroom, searching one of the ten rooms, finding you on the east wing, tucked far into the palace and out of sight. Armando knew you were in there based on the music vibrating from the door and a bowl you had resting outside the door on a tray.

Armando knocks hard, knowing you should be able to hear him over the bass. You take your time, coming to the door now dressed in a corset, mini skirt, tall boots, and hair in a claw clip. There was no shame in Armando’s game as he drank you in with his eyes, damn you looked good, but that was not the point.

“Where you goin’?”

“A girls night out on the town and that’s all I’m saying on that.” You announce with your chin up in the air before spinning to head back into the room, “Are you going to try and hold me hostage in here? If so, then you’re really asking for a fight.”

“No,” Armando lifted his shoulders with his lips pushed out a bit, “I’d prefer it if you didn’t go out tonight though.”

With a long sigh, you picked up your necklace, placing it in Armando’s palm so he could put it on you. “Well…we can’t always get what we want, right? It’s just like auntie Whitney said, it’s not right but it’s okay, I’m gonna make it anyway.”

Once clasped you turned back to face your husband. Your fingers went to his forehead to smooth out the lines there, “Stress brings wrinkles.”

“Kelly keeps telling me to get Botox…just in case, although my melanin should work in my favor.”

You snort, “Your body your choice, baby. Anyways! I’ve got to run, don’t wait up.”

It was Armando’s turn to grab your wrist, which you halt although you wanted to snatch it right back. However you kept your breathing steady and slowly faced the brown eyed man, questioning what he wanted silently. Something the both of you commonly did, socializing with just your eyes.

“…I hope you’re not for real thinking about ending things?”

Brushing a strand that fell into your eye, thanks to tilting your head to the side you say, “is that really a conversation you want to get into tonight? It’s been a long day.”

“Mine’s longer.”

He was the damn president after all.

“Ah yes, a competition with my unfaithful husband.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

How else could he have meant it?

“What is it exactly you want from me?” You question Armando, “To yell, scream, or cry? All the above? Drag your name through the press so you really end this term in a dumpster fire? That’s not me, never has been and I thought you knew that. I’m just done…probably numb? If I look into your eyes long enough, I can feel my heart wanting to race because I’ve really adored all parts of you until now. Then there’s this stronger side of me that says, maybe I’ve had enough too and just waited too late to see that.”

Armando can feel you fading from his grasp but he only had himself to blame for that. He cleared his throat, scratching at the side of the bridge of his nose as he followed you down the hallway before speaking up, “I think we still owe one another a final convo…once we sleep on it.”

“Okay, Arman,” is all you say texting away on your phone to let him know you heard him but still dreaded that, you knew the most important part of that talk would be the election because over the last few years, that became more important than your marriage, “Goodnight, don’t let the thoughts bite.”

And he stops following you, letting you disappear from his sight.

In bed, Armando lays on his back staring up at the ceiling constantly checking his socials, skipping over the constant talk of his fuck ups with Dinah being put on blast, ignored her texts, and searched for you, to see what you were up to.

Ultimately he would be the one up all night stressed over you.

And if you really chose to think about it, that would be fine by you.

ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ

Read my final autumn anthology slice here.

[writingforstraykids]

Hii! So I don’t know if you’ve already posted this… but if not, could you please do soft thoughts for Changbin?? (He’s my bias)

Thank you!!! I love your work btw!! 💗

I tried my best since I don't really write for anyone else but Min, Chan, Lix and sometimes Innie now. I do hope I did your imagination justice🖤 thanks to @zehina, niki and kylei for their ideas☺️

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Changbin loves coming home to you after a long day, resting his head in your lap, and relaxing. He loves it when you run your hand through his hair, soothingly massaging his scalp as you tell him about your day. He doesn't stop planting tiny kisses on your other hand and your thighs, getting sleepier with every passing second he spends in your comforting presence.

Speaking of headscratches, he loves when your nails are a little longer or you get them done professionally because he loves the way they scratch his scalp just perfectly. Especially on nights when he has a hard time falling asleep.

Whenever you're not feeling well, whether at home or in public, his hand naturally finds your back. He rubs soothing circles on your lower back or all the way up and down, assuring you he's there.

Changbin always has an extra bottle of water with him, not wanting his beloved partner to dehydrate. He always makes sure to have one with him, reminding you as often as he can to "just take a little sip" and then relax for another ten minutes. Especially in the summer when you're out having fun with him, you're very glad about this sometimes annoying habit.

A, for you, rather amusing habit of his is helping you put on your socks and shoes. You have no idea why, but this man is on his knees faster than you can comprehend and makes sure you're all comfortable in your socks. Then he puts on your shoes for you, and if needed, he ties your shoelaces tightly enough for them to stay that way the whole day. He can get really sulky if you "forget" to tell him and won't let him help you.

If you're the type for candles, he has your back. No matter the occasion or time of the year, this man can find you fitting candles: lavender for when you're stressed, sweet pumpkin-themed ones for Halloween, red roses for Valentine's Day, or cinnamon and orange during Christmas time. He never fails to amaze you, and by now, you have an amazing, unique candle collection, keeping one of each flavor to remember forever.

Another one that has started quite early in your relationship is matching with him. It started with matching your outfits by color before adding matching sweaters. For your first anniversary, he got you matching keychains, and soon after, you had matching phone cases. Several ones, in fact, so you could change them as often as you'd like, and he always makes sure to change his own accordingly.

Changbin won't let you carry your own stuff for once. He's always hovering, holding your bag for you, grabbing your drinks and snacks, and if you'd let him, he'd hold your phone right under your nose the whole day as well. In his eyes, you shouldn't have to carry anything since you have a "pretty strong boyfriend who can take care of you." Yes, your coffee will still fit into his hand next to your shopping bags, handbag, wallet, keys, and donuts.

He loves acting silly with you, especially when it's only the two of you. Whenever you put on your playlist with girl group songs, he'll go crazy with you, outdancing you with ease. It's frustrating, really. You have no chance against those hips and goofy smile.

He craves your attention every second of the day. Binnie wants to wake up next to your sleeping face, to hold you as you sleep, and to the feeling of your heartbeat against his chest. Your heartbeat is his favorite sound, right after your laugh. Whenever he can, he places his head on your chest to listen to it beating and smirks at it, picking up pace when he calls you by one of his ridiculous pet names.

Speaking of ridiculous nicknames, Binnie is definitely the type for it. He calls you by the longest and weirdest-sounding pet names you only see in memes. Getting a laugh from you in return feels like another win for him. He'd do everything to make sure you're happy.

He is your number one fan, and he will never deny it. If you ever doubt yourself and he notices the slightest sign of it, he's there. Hyping you up and comforting you in everything you do. That also means he'll do everything to make you comfortable. He'll pick up your favorite food no matter the time, hold you close, or just let you cry on his shoulder for a bit.

He loves your body in every single way. If you ever have trouble accepting your body and don't tell him, he'll be pouty all day because he wants to help. If you want to change something out of comfort and not self-hatred, he's there every step of the way. He'll hype you for your new hairstyle or color, he'll help you pick out new outfits, and oh, he'll be the happiest man alive if you ever join him at the gym.

He carries you for fun. If he wants you to join him at the gym, cook dinner with you or watch a movie he'll pick you up and throw you over his shoulder carrying you there. Especially when you playfully protested against doing whatever he had in mind. You love him so much for this quirky habit.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@atinyniki @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaasia111 @galaxycatdrawz @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @rebecca-johnson-28 @michelle4eve @lixie-phoria @gxtwllsn @xxstrayland @kibs-and-bits

[verystrxxwberry]

I don't know if you're still taking requests but if you do, can you write some NSFW head canons for the MCL ng characters? :>>

MCL NEW GEN; NSFW HEADCANONS

♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: NSFW, smut, explicit content, dirty words, probably misspellings, idk sex sex!! ↝ 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Teehee, enjoy :^

♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•.

ROY

Intense. This man shows himself as someone who feels his emotions very vividly, no matter if they are good or they are wrong. When he is in love with someone, he shows himself as the most romantic gentleman there is. And he might be, but that doesn’t quit the fact that he is still a tease and likes to have fun testing your reactions and limits. I see him as someone passionate when it comes to those things he truly likes, and that does involve his partner. So the passion, the romance, that will be something abundant through your relationship.

Really good kisser. One of his favorite activities is to basically make out with you once his mind needs a break from work and other stuff. It might start with slow pecks, but Roy isn’t satisfied with only small kisses. If there’s time to take advantage of, he is indeed going to take it. At first he cups the side of your neck, making sure you’re in place for him to devour your lips as if it was the last time he could do so. No matter your experience, he finds the way to match your jaws moving together, turning the clumsiness into a slow and sensuous kiss which leaves you trembling a little. Having Roy so close, claiming your mouth as his hands wander down your body to finally squeeze your butt, would allow you to get the masculine scent of his perfume, only making you dizzy and shaky.

And the way his breath gets heavy as he progressively touches you with more need is a clear sign of his state. He wouldn’t be too discret.

The moment he pulls you to his lap, consider yourself lost in the most addictive cloud of pleasure. That position will allow him to invite you to grind against him. He’d allow you to dry hump him, and he actually loves the feeling of it. He likes the teasing over the clothes, rubbing and touching. It is what makes him crazy.

Vocal reassurance. Roy can be a tease, but he is still a gentleman and wants to prioritize your comfort over everything. As he proceeds with his touches and kisses he’d ask in between them “are you ok with this?”, “would you like me to go lower?”, “does it feel good this way?” And he speaks with such a gentle tone, with such an intimate whisper that could melt ice faster than lava.

Dirty talk. He loves to whisper things into your ear, both in public and in private. Of course being in private with you gives him the freedom of acting as he wants according to his words, but he is also capable of dropping a “babe, you don’t realize how horny you got me, don’t you?” in the middle of the dinner table, putting into the most innocent smile as he whispers that to you.

Big boy. Oh yes, he is a big man. That equals to his trained muscles but also to the length of his not so little friend. He is a brutal 13 cm when being soft, yet when he’s hard he can be 17 cm. He keeps himself shaved down there as he finds it the most hygienic for swimming, his daily life and intimate moments. He’s longer than thicker.

Pleasure giver. He absolutely enjoys focusing on making you feel great, relieving your stress from previous days and making your mind go blank. The only thought he wants you to have is about how good he is making you feel.

Ties his hair up when he is going down on you.

His favorite position is missionary due to the freedom it gives him to see your reactions, to kiss your face and neck, to hold your thighs apart and thrust slowly and precisely inside of you, teasing and abusing your already sensitive spot.

He is not ashamed to be loud in bed. Not only with talking, but he might moan freely whenever his body randomly makes him do it.

Roy has a fantasy about wearing a blind fold someday and letting you do whatever you wish the most with him. He is open minded to try everything, even if you want to peg him he won’t refuse because he also wants to try that.

He is a switch flexible to your preferences.

Roy has a high libido, higher than he’d like.

Loves to bite you. And you better stop him from getting too excited and let him give you a hickey, because he might casually mark you right in the visible areas and be proud of it.

A lot of teasing in the swimming pool. And luckily you sometimes are alone because sometimes he’d threateningly pull from your swimsuit as if he wanted to rip it (he does).

AMANDA

Neck kisses. Amanda is pretty ticklish everywhere, and a big way to turn her on is by kissing her neck lightly. The ticklish feeling of your lips in her neck is capable of making her shiver and squirm, and not to mention the warmth of your breath. She’d tilt her head to give you free access to the area of her sensitive skin. Oh but she also adores to plant kisses on your neck, it’s like a genuine way for her to show his affection but also to tease you if you’re sensitive there. Amanda would place her hands on your waist as she rests her chin over your shoulder, giving her the freedom to do so.

She can be a soft dom or an absolute pillow princess, she can adapt to your preferences. Yet she likes to be the one in control.

Gentle. Sex with Amanda is gentle and most likely vanilla since she wouldn’t stand hurting you or making fun of you. She might be slightly serious but she won’t say no to a joke during the act or a genuine laugh to make you less nervous. She undresses you as if she was unwrapping a delicate gift, and makes sense because you’re the best gift she’s ever gotten. She also goes at your pace, without wanting to make you feel rushed into anything. And even when her fingers are inside of you, she still lets you set the pace to your liking.

Praise. She makes sure that you know you’re the best gift she has ever received. Amanda will kiss your body gently, admiring every inch of it, as she whispers how pretty and cute you are like that. She’d tell you what a good job you are doing when she hears your needy sounds thanks to her fingers. Amanda is grateful of you offering her your most vulnerable side, so she must let you know her gratitude with her genuine affection.

She also likes to receive praise!

When she is the submissive one, it is a side of Amanda which you only see when she is trying to control herself. Amanda tends to get shy when she is horny, but she slowly turns into a fierce. But if you want to be the one taking control, she’s gonna lie down over the bed, her pretty thighs opened for you and her head glued to the pillows. 

Her fluffy and soft cheeks are permanently blushed for as long as the sex session lasts. Amanda gets ashamed of listening to her own whimpers, of how she doesn’t seem to control them when she is blessed by your touch. No matter if she covers her mouth, she isn’t the most quiet person.

Sensitive. I commented that her neck is very sensitive, but I also believe her nipples are very sensitive. She has big breasts, and she likes it when you massage and play with them gently. But she loves it even more when your tongue is playfully moving over her hard nipples. 

Experimentation. She likes to experiment a lot, but not with extreme things. Amanda is open to adding toys to the experience to use them on you, on her or both at the same time. She is open to trying food play, edging, bondage… As long as it doesn’t involve pain, she is good with it.

She cares about your comfort, meaning that she will make sure that you are in a comfortable position that won’t make you sore later.

Whenever you let her sit on your face she’ll feel like a queen, like someone who just won the lottery. You’d even do 69, and you wouldn’t regret it because she adores devouring you, and she does it very well.

Mutual masturbation will be constant.

Amanda loves to dress up for you. Whenever you both go out on a date, she’ll put on a tight dress which makes her curvy shape notorious.. The lovely scent of her perfume along with how beautiful she looked that night, the way her eyes invited you to get closer with that glint of passion she usually had- God, she was stunning. Amanda gets subtly touchy when she wants to provoke you. She places her hand over your knee, over your shoulder, or just keeps it on your back and caresses it up and down slowly.

Always shaved down there for her own comfort. She has juicy, small lips resting under a small button which gets erect and notorious when she is excited. The pinky color of her vag it’s satisfying to see. Amanda’s hole usually welcomes you into a wet and warm grip inside her, allowing your movements to be smooth thanks to the natural lubrication her body has been producing.

DEVON

He has a busy schedule so it makes the intimate moments to not be as much as he’d like to spend with you. Devon likes getting into intimate situations with you, as he feels it makes your bond stronger. Still, he will make sure to make it up to you all the time he couldn’t be with you.

The moment things are getting hotter, he removes his glasses. It bothers at some point to keep the glasses as you two are making out. 

Shower. Devon enjoys showering with you and taking his time to enjoy the water but also of you. After a long day in the office he offers you to take a shower with him, and unless he feels you down or upset, he won’t try to make a move. If he sees you following his playful attitude he will get handsy and passionate. It will be regular the times you both have sex in the shower.

Massages. Whenever he is stressed he practically begs you for a massage, but he simply loves your touch so much that he’d exaggerate his pleasant reactions to tease you. But he couldn’t deny that his body would instinctively react to your touch, making him hard more than once. He’s also good at massages, and if you allow his goofy side to come out, he’d keep going to massage other areas. More than once the massages would end up with a happy ending.

Playful. Devon is a positive person when it comes to his business, even if he is the boss and he has to be responsible with it. He has this playful mood he shows up whenever he is comfortable enough or he wants to ease the tension in the place. But he also knows how to add this behavior during sex with the intention of making you laugh and calm your nerves. 

This also involves that he is a tease and he won’t deny being into edging. So poor you, he won’t make it easy for you to come.

Devon likes to take his time to prepare you for him, stretching you out properly before you can take him. He’d use his fingers to caress your walls, scissoring you and making sure you’re properly lubricated for it to not hurt. That’d end up in a good fingering session.

Whenever you wake up early and there is still time to go to work, no one denies that there will be morning quickies to start the day.

Praising. Devon adores being honest with you and telling you how good you feel, what pretty sounds you make and that kind of stuff. He is very gentle with his words.

He holds your hands as he is inside of you, whispering sweet words and complimenting you during that sensitive moment you are in. 

Makes love. No matter if Devon is playful, he’d like to keep it vanilla, to make sex be something intimate, romantic which makes you both feel the deep connection in between you both. Devon may be intense, but he’d never be rough to you.

Cockwarming. Whenever he is working late in the office and you decide to make him company, more than once he’d hold you in his lap for warmth. But sometimes you both would get freaky.. So that’s the easiest way for him to feed you at that moment. Unluckily he won’t let you move as he’d still be working on some documents.

Devon isn’t a loud person during sex, he simply breathes heavily and sometimes grunts, but he won’t be too loud even if he’s receiving a head.

He approaches from behind whenever you are making a meal in the kitchen and gives you a couple of kisses on the neck. He’s not opposed to taking you over the counter.

He’s a soft dom, he likes to be the one in control.

For him it is a must to say “I love you” once it all ends, giving you probably the best aftercare someone could give you.

Talking about his dick, he might be 11 cm when soft and 14 when hard. He keeps the hairs short down there so it doesn’t bother during your moments. He has no time to shave himself constantly down there. He is on the thicker side.

THOMAS

Sensitive. Thomas is sensitive all over his body and he makes no effort to hide it, because, even if he gets flustered, he adores your touch. He doesn’t want you to stop touching him. You are one of the people who has the ability of making his heart thump loudly and fast like never before. He’d shiver and arc under your touch easily, but instinctively searching for more contact. His neck is sensitive, his arms are sensitive, his waist is sensitive, the same for his thighs… he is sensitive everywhere.

I believe he has no experience in the practical part of this subject, but he has seen videos when he was younger. Still, he didn’t have any experience with his last partners because they didn’t last long and there was no time to build a trust for him to get intimate. He has an idea of what sex is, he knows about the theory part but has no idea about the practical part (still there are things he doesn’t know or believes because he hadn’t experienced it yet).

We’ve seen that Thomas might do unexpected things that definitely no one would imagine coming from a person like he is. When Thomas wanted to take things further, the shyness started to fade. The quiet ones are the most dangerous in bed they say… and with Thomas you can check that it must be true because he really lets all his fantasies out.

Handsy. Just as he likes to be touched by you, he likes to touch you and memorize every single spot of your body. He likes to remember the texture and the taste of you, so whenever he just misses it he’d say “I think I forgot the taste of you, may I try you out again?” 

Making out on his motorbike would happen a couple of times. Whenever he brings you to a new solitaire space he knows, he’d sit you in the copilot room, he’d face you and then devour your mouth with no shame.

Ride him as he plays. Oh yes, he loves this. Even if sometimes it’s risky, he just mutes himself and that’s it- it wouldn’t be the first time he mutes himself while playing with friends because he felt like doing so. He likes it when you get all hot and decide to tease him on his lap when he is in the middle of a match in any game. At first you’d be frustrated because he’d keep you still in place, making you feel his cock completely inside you but staying still, with no movement. But whenever he gets the chance to get afk for a few seconds for the next round, he’d bounce you up and down, because he also wants to feel that friction. And what’s better than mixing both his favorite game and his favorite person making him feel great.

Whenever you are the one playing games, he’d also like to have you on his lap. And the moment things get hot, he’d finger you as you keep playing. Thomas loves to see how your character runs towards a wall for a minute as you are enjoying how two of his fingers pump in and out your hole with an increasing pace.

Hair pulling. He likes to get you on your fours to take you from behind, but also enjoys to pull your hair gently, tilting your head back so he’s able to kiss you during it.

Spooning lazy sex is his favorite kind of sex.

He can be intense too, but he must be very worked out from the foreplay to reach that point.

Thomas is silent but will get vocal after the first round, getting more sensitive with time, and you’d hear some little whimpers every now and then.

He’s pretty big, pretty tall and well distributed. When he is soft, he’s about 12,5 cm, and hard might be 16 cm. He has a pretty cock, pinky and with barely noticeable curves. He is thick and well groomed, his hair is also red. Just as Devon, he keeps it short enough so it doesn’t bother him.

He is known in the company for his memory, his great skill to remember things. Thomas would add this skill to the relationship to remember the things you like and those which you don’t.

JASON

Hand placement. This man is obviously a big tease with everything, including these kinds of moments. He doesn’t mind where he is, but he’d keep a hand on you right where he knows you will feel butterflies, whether it’s the lower part of your back, your waist, your nape to caress it slowly. And when you two are making out, his touch burns in your skin and he takes advantage of that to make you more nervous and aroused.

His smirk and gaze are the ones in charge of communicating the desire he feels for you, and it is hard to not take the hint. There is a different glint on his eyes that makes you shiver, and you don’t know if you should be excited or scared.

Begging. Jason likes to make you beg, both during the act and even before it starts. He completely adores making you desperate for his attention and his touch, and it would be one of the main reasons why he teases you so much.

He might rub against you from behind when helping you to reach something from a high place, obviously acting as innocent as he can after it.

Toys. Jason is curious about all the reactions your body is willing to show him, and he is willing to explore every extreme of pleasure to check which things will make the moment more intense or more uncomfortable. He aims to make you enjoy, of course, and he also aims to have fun. So as he is already inside of you, he’d use a vibrator on your sensitive button to check your limits. If you are into double penetration, he might also be open to exploring how it feels.

He uses his belt to tie your wrists together and make you unable to touch him no matter if you want. Jason adores tying you up.

He loves when you act like a brat regarding the consequences you are aware you’ll have to pay. 

If you are into it, he’d gladly spank you. He is really into it, but this man, no matter if he can be a brat himself, knows what consent is and he is a respectful man with that.

Jason is a sadist, but might keep that façade under a key if you are more into the soft stuff. He can be soft too.

Office. Similar to Devon, he owns an office for himself and of course he will take advantage of it. He’d also make you stay longer in his office, once others are finally home and he is basically checking the last documents of the day. He is taking you over that big desk of his, he’s willing to place all the papers to the side and make space to make you lie down. His ego increases every time you two do it there.

Jason teases you about being loud yet he aims to rip those needy sounds from you constantly, and he won’t be satisfied until hearing you cry out lovingly for him. This mf makes calculated thrusts according to your liking.

Sext him when he is free, because he doesn’t like to get turned on during important moments. Yet he sends dirty messages whenever he feels like because no one has control over his dirty mind.

He likes to give you the hope you can take control but haha…. It is all a joke. You are in control because he wants so, but he is still the one in control. 

Thigh riding. He wouldn’t let you cockwarm him because he likes to see you desperate, instead if he’s on a good day he’d let you use his thigh to cum as much as you wish. He would sometimes press his leg up to make you feel better spontaneously, but then he’d stop.

When he’s soft, his cock is 11 cm yet when he gets hard he can get to 15 cm. I believe this man is too fancy even there, with expensive boxers, a very well groomed area. Jason wants to be elegant even in bed. He is equally long and thick.

✰; remember to reblog and like to support my content, I hope you enjoyed it!

[yokumirumerafan]

Kai Chisaki (Overhaul) x reader

OK I finally got this amazing man, to be honest although he plays a villian and a horrible person in the show I still love him and his perspective. This is a mix of headcanons and some scenes. Also thanks for reading me <33.

1. Overhaul’s Jealous Side in Public

Ohhh, this is golden. Kai would definitely have a low-key but terrifying reaction to seeing someone check you out in public. Imagine you're walking down the street, and some guy's giving you that "undressing you with their eyes" look, and Kai’s walking beside you, all calm and composed on the surface. But then, as soon as you get a little farther away from the guy, Kai’s entire mood changes, and he’s like:

"Did you not see the way they were looking at you? They were practically undressing you with their eyes. Don’t you dare wear that again unless you want to cause problems for everyone involved."

Cue his narrowed eyes and that ice-cold glare. He’s possessive, but also in this really calm way where you might just feel like you’re the most important thing in the world to him. And let's be real—him looking like that makes you feel both powerful and a little nervous, in a good way.

2. Overhaul’s Blushing Reaction to Dirty Talk

I LOVE this. Kai is not prepared for any of that type of spontaneous flirtation. He’s used to control and authority, and when you hit him with something like:

"Is that a mirror in your pocket? Because I can see myself in your pants."

He immediately goes from calculating to stumbling over his words, all flushed and definitely not prepared for the heat in your voice. His face would turn red, and he’d mutter something like:

"That ain’t very pure, angel..." while avoiding eye contact and trying to calm his breathing. He’s trying so hard to maintain his usual composure, but he can’t stop the blush creeping up on his neck and the slight stutter in his voice. The fact that you’ve caught him so off guard is just chef’s kiss.

Also the: "Do you realize what you’ve done? Get in my office now. I can’t think straight with you messing around like that." - Y/n needs a wheelchair after that little "session" T^T

3.

Overhaul’s Protective Side (Soft, But Intense)

Kai isn’t one for showing vulnerability, but when it comes to protecting you, he absolutely will. Imagine you’re in a dangerous situation—maybe something minor, like someone accidentally bumping into you in public—and before you even have the chance to react, he’s already positioned himself between you and the source of danger, his usual cold demeanor gone, replaced by an undeniable intensity.

He’s like: "Don’t touch them." No explanation, just that cold command. He’s low-key furious, but there’s a soft care there that he’s not used to showing. Once the moment passes, he may not even acknowledge what happened, but you know. You feel that protectiveness in the air, and it’s overwhelming.

4.

Overhaul’s Vulnerability (Rare, But Pure)

This moment is rare, but when it happens, it hits hard. Imagine a situation where you're doing something small and thoughtful for him, like tending to a wound or making him a cup of coffee after a stressful day. He’s sitting there, maybe with his usual frown, but there's a subtle shift in his gaze.

He might say something like: "You know... I didn’t think anyone could ever make me feel this way." It's not a direct “I love you,” but it’s the kind of statement that speaks volumes. His face softens just a little, and you catch a glimpse of the warmth behind his cold exterior. But then, in true Overhaul fashion, he immediately goes back to being guarded, muttering: "Tch... don’t make a big deal of it." But deep down, you know what he meant.

5.

Overhaul’s ‘I’m Not Jealous, You’re Jealous’ Moment

As much as Overhaul likes to think he's always in control, there are moments when jealousy sneaks up on him. He tries to act like he doesn’t care, but the signs are unmistakable.

Imagine you're out with a group of people, and one of them (let’s say a new acquaintance) gets a little too friendly with you. Overhaul, who’s been quiet the entire time, suddenly gets an almost imperceptible twitch of irritation. He glares at the guy, who is completely oblivious to the tension in the air.

And then, when you and Kai are alone: "What was that, huh? You think I didn’t see the way they were looking at you? You’re mine." He’s fuming, but trying to keep it cool, like the control freak he is. His voice is dangerously low, and you can tell he’s about to pull some strings to make sure that person never crosses your path again.

6.

Overhaul’s Secret Gift-Giving Moment

Kai doesn’t do gifts... or so he thinks. But deep down, he wants to show you how much he cares without saying it. One day, you find a small box tucked in the corner of your room, hidden in plain sight. When you open it, it's a delicate piece of jewelry, maybe a pendant or a bracelet.

It’s not overly fancy or flashy. It’s simple—but that’s the point. It’s meaningful, and it’s from him. You know, of course, that he’s never one to buy something so personal unless it means something.

When you confront him: "What? It’s not like I care about impressing you or anything." His usual tough demeanor slips for a moment, and you see him looking away, flushed under all that cold arrogance. He just doesn’t want to admit how much he means it.

7.

Overhaul’s ‘Control’ Breaking Moment

Overhaul is obsessed with control, but there’s one thing he can’t control, and that’s you. Imagine he’s in a high-pressure situation, his usual calm and collected demeanor being tested, and you come in at just the wrong moment (or right moment, depending on your perspective).

Maybe you drop a flirty remark just as he's about to make a major decision, or you're casually teasing him, and his composure cracks. You catch him off guard, and for once, he loses control over the situation. You can tell it bothers him, but in a way, it also excites him that you can bring out this side of him.

He might say: "What do you think you're doing? Don’t distract me right now." But the fact that his voice cracks just slightly gives him away. He’s flustered and doesn’t know how to deal with the fact that you’re his biggest weakness.

8.

Overhaul’s ‘Possessiveness’ Moment After an Argument

After a heated argument (because let’s face it, this guy has way too much pride), Overhaul might go quiet, and you might think you’ve lost him for good. But then he comes to find you after a while, looking almost sheepish. His pride has taken a hit, but he’s not going to let you slip away.

He might pull you close with a hand at your waist and just say: "Don’t think you can walk away from me that easily." His voice is soft, but there’s an undeniable edge of possession. Even though the argument is over, you feel that he's not letting go anytime soon.

9.

Overhaul’s ‘No Words’ Confession

Overhaul isn’t always the best with words, so instead of saying how he feels, he might show it in his actions. Perhaps he’s taking care of you in a way that speaks volumes—making sure you’re comfortable, handling difficult situations for you, ensuring you’re safe.

It’s through these quiet, small acts that he lets you know: "I care about you." He doesn’t have to say it outright, but you feel it in every gesture, every subtle action. You might even catch him giving you a rare, soft smile when he thinks you're not looking. He doesn’t express his emotions easily, but when he does, it hits hard.

10.

Overhaul’s Secret Softness in Public

Even though Overhaul is always composed and intimidating, if you’re in a public space, he’ll always subtly make sure you’re okay. Whether it’s making sure you’re not too cold by adjusting your jacket or ensuring you’re safe in a crowded area, he’s silently watching over you.

It’s not obvious to anyone else, but you know. It’s the little things that speak louder than words. Kai might even take a quick glance at you when you’re not looking, just to make sure you’re still there, and then immediately look away when you meet his eyes, embarrassed that you caught him.

11.

Overhaul’s Subtle Compliments (For You, But Not in Public)

He’s never going to openly compliment you—ever—but there are little signs that show how much he thinks about you. Sometimes, he might leave a small note on your desk or a gift in your bag when you least expect it.

He’ll always try to act like he didn’t do it, but when you find it, he gets so embarrassed.

“...What are you looking at? Don’t read too much into it.”

But you know, deep down, it’s his way of showing care, and even though he acts aloof, he’s secretly smiling to himself when you find it.

12.

Overhaul and Your Birthday

Kai is the worst at planning surprises or gifts for you, but if it’s your birthday, he’s going to attempt something. He might not be the type to throw a big party or give you a grand gift, but he will take you somewhere private (likely a quiet, upscale restaurant or somewhere that feels intimate).

He might hand you a simple, yet meaningful gift—perhaps something that represents both of you. His face might be a little flushed when he hands it to you, and it’s clear that even though he won’t say it out loud, he’s thinking about how much you mean to him.

“...Don’t make a big deal out of it.” But when you thank him, his expression softens just for a moment before he’s back to his cold, composed self.

13.

Overhaul’s One Weakness: You

Kai’s biggest weakness is his inability to keep his cool around you sometimes. You could ask him about anything, and he’d get flustered.

Imagine him trying to keep his icy demeanor while you playfully tease him, only for him to stammer and lose his control, trying to redirect the conversation but failing miserably.

You might get a small, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Stop it.” from him as he flushes red and avoids your eyes.

14.

Overhaul’s Reaction to You Getting Hurt

If you’re ever in danger or you get hurt in any way, Overhaul will react instantly. He may not scream or show it openly, but his eyes will harden, and there’s an intense fire in them that can only be extinguished by your safety.

Once the danger has passed, he won’t necessarily comfort you in an emotional way, but he’ll be very practical.

“You need to stay off that leg. Come with me.”

And you’ll find yourself in a medical room or tucked away in some safe corner, while Kai fusses over you in his own way, doing everything in his power to ensure you’re healed. He'll be totally silent the whole time but will take special care to treat your injury as if it’s his most important task in the world.

15.

Overhaul’s Silent Enjoyment of Your Presence

There’s something so quiet and serene about the way Overhaul enjoys your company. He doesn’t always need to speak when you’re around. He’ll just watch you. You’ll catch him staring, and instead of immediately getting uncomfortable, there’s something almost calming about it. You can feel his focus entirely on you.

Maybe you’ll catch him smirking subtly when you’re not looking, and that’s when you realize that despite everything, he’s so attuned to you that nothing can escape his gaze.

16.

Overhaul’s “Don’t You Dare” Side

When you’re being too playful with someone else, like teasing another person or talking to them in a flirtatious manner, Kai’s usual control starts to slip. It’s hard for him to admit, but he does not like it when other people get too close to you.

You might catch him glaring from across the room, his jaw tight and his hands clenched. He’ll definitely make a comment later on about how “you’d better not” flirt with someone else or tease another guy so openly, but the fact that he’s insecure in those moments is a huge deal for him. He’ll try to keep it subtle, but you can feel the possessiveness oozing from him.

“I don’t need to say it again. Just don’t... You’re mine, understand?”

17.

Overhaul’s ‘You and Me Against the World’ Moment

When Overhaul finally opens up about his plans and goals, you’re the one he trusts. No one else is allowed to know what he’s working on, but with you, he feels comfortable enough to explain what’s really going on.

But when you express concern or doubt about the path he’s chosen, you can see his frustration bubble up in the form of intense eye contact. His jaw clenches as he leans in just a little closer, as if to dare you to question him further.

“You and I are different. I’m doing this for us. Don’t question it, just trust me.”

It’s that moment where you see the true depth of his feelings for you, and despite everything, he’s trusting you to be the one person who’ll understand his vision.

Also deepest apologies if it's repetetive in some parts 0-0'

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

Beach Days

@evaphernelia

I hope you like it!

////

Their security business was booming these days, money was less of an issue, allowing them to live without the stress of wondering if they would be able to pay the bills or not. It also meant that they had opportunities to splurge on something they wouldn’t normally be able to do. 

In this case, a honeymoon. 

Ian brought up the idea out of the blue. Their night in the shitty motel that Terry shot up didn’t count. This was for real. A whole week away with no work, no answering any phone calls and more importantly, no fucking Gallagher’s besides his own. 

Mickey was all for it. He just didn’t know that his husband’s idea of a honeymoon meant going to the beach, of all places. Something about experiencing new things or whatever the fuck he’d said. He sure as hell didn’t want to go but for some reason, seeing Ian so happy made going to that hellhole worth it so Mickey sucked it up and agreed to go. 

So here they were, under the damn scorching sun, just about to walk through the sand. It wasn’t too crowded, probably helped that it was late August so there weren’t a ton of families crawling around the place. Mickey glanced at Ian, who was fucking beaming. 

“Where do you wanna sit?” Ian asked, holding onto a small cooler and an umbrella. 

“Don’t care,” Mickey replied. So long as he didn’t have to be near anybody and make small talk. 

Ian found a spot that wasn’t too far away from the water but one that kept a distance between them and another couple that was already situated. “How about this spot-” 

“Fuck,” Mickey cursed, shifting his footing. 

“What’s wrong?” Ian frowned, plunging the umbrella into the sand. 

“Fucking sand’s burning me.” He, like Ian, wore a pair of flip flops which did nothing to keep his feet from burning in the sand. There was nowhere he could move that helped, he looked fucking ridiculous right now. 

His asshole of a husband just snickered at him. “Here, Mick. Step on this.” Ian unfolded a long blanket, laying it down for them to sit on. 

RIght at that moment, an older woman was ushering a young child up the beach, probably to use the bathroom. She gave Mickey a dirty look, obviously having heard him. “You need to watch your language,” she snapped. “There are children here!” 

“Watch this, lady,” Mickey flipped her off. 

“Excuse me?"

Ian, smiling tightly, placed his hands on Mickey’s shoulders, tightening his hold when the older man made a remark about that too-let go, bitch. “I’m sorry about that, Ma’am. I’ll make sure he stops.” 

Mickey’s head swiveled around to meet Ian’s eyes. The fuck you will. 

His husband gave him another look back. Shut the fuck up, Mickey. I swear to God. 

The woman sniffed. “You’d better. My granddaughter doesn’t need to hear you speaking like that. Next time, have some respect!” 

Ian swiftly covered Mickey’s mouth before he could make another remark he’d have to do damage control for. He kept this up until the woman and her grandchild were all the way up the walkway and out of hearing distance. 

Mickey shoved him off. “The fuck did you do that for?” 

“I didn't need you getting us kicked off the beach,” Ian said, a look of exasperated fondness taking over his face. He kissed the top of Mickey’s head, sending warmth through the older man that had nothing to do with the sun. 

While Ian dug through the cooler to make sure all the drinks they’d packed-mostly beer-were adequately covered with ice, Mickey glanced out at the tumbling waves ahead. His gust was twisting uncomfortably, knowing Ian would want to go out there. 

He’d never learned how to swim. Never needed to, never had anyone to teach him. That was partly why he never accompanied Mandy to the public pool. He had a reputation to maintain at the time. What would people have thought if Mickey Milkovich, part of one of the infamous families on the South Side, struggled to keep himself afloat in a fucking pool? He would have never been taken seriously again. 

Now, those things didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t proud to be a Milkovich and didn’t try to maintain that reputation. That didn’t mean he was eager to make a fool of himself anytime soon. 

Ian didn’t know he couldn't swim. And he wasn’t about to tell him either. 

“Ay, you want to sit and have a beer?” Mickey said, hoping to delay the inevitable. 

“No,” Ian was in the midst of peeling his shirt off, giving Mickey a damn good view. “Wasn’t planning on it.” The sight went straight to the older man’s dick. 

“What were you plannin’ on?” Mickey murmured, lips turning up into a grin. 

His hips were grabbed by Ian, yanking him closer. “Nothing that wouldn’t get us arrested for public indecency,” he said, voice husky. 

That fucking voice. The heat was pooling in Mickey. He wanted nothing more than to rip those damn swimming trunks off his husband right then and there. “You can’t be doin’ that, man,” Mickey groaned. Goddamn, now he had a fucking boner on the beach. 

Ian just smirked, slapping him on the ass. 

Bastard. 

“I had Debbie buy us some sunscreen,” he said, reaching into the pocket of his trunks. He rubbed a generous amount all over his arms, face and legs. Mickey waited for him, face contorted into a puzzled expression when Ian held out the bottle to him. 

“What?” 

“What do you mean what?” Ian said, baffled. “Aren’t you going to use some?” 

“No.” 

“Come on, Mick,” he argued. “You’re gonna burn without it.” 

“I don’t burn, Gallagher.” 

“Would you just-” Ian tried to give it to him but Mickey refused to take it. 

“I don’t need it, Ian.” 

“Fine,” he said, frustrated. “Don’t come crying to me when you’re too burnt to move.” Mickey rolled his eyes at his husband’s dramatics. “Fuck off, Gallagher.” 

“Come on,” Ian gave him one last ass swat, “let’s go swim.” 

Mickey hid his grimace. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.” 

Down the beach they went, having kicked off their flip flops, leaving them at their spot, as well as Mickey’s shirt. On their way, they passed by a group of girls, probably not much younger than they were. A couple of them openly stared at Ian, whispering and giggling. 

This immediately pissed Mickey off. He didn’t want anyone else looking at his husband like that. 

He shot em all a scathing glare, and what’d they do? Fucking ignored him. 

“What are you looking at?” Ian had noticed his glare, following his gaze over to the group of girls who were delighted when he met their eyes. 

“I like your swim trunks,” one called out. 

“Uh, thanks,” Ian said politely. 

“We’re renting out a beach house up there,” another one of them pointed up ahead to some house on the edge of the pier that overlooked the whole place. “If you want, you’re welcome to stop by for our party tonight.” 

Oh, fuck no. 

“No thanks,” Ian looped an arm around Mickey’s waist. “I’d rather just time with my husband. We’re on our honeymoon.” 

This made the seductive grins fall off the faces of those girls in disappointment. 

“Damn right we are,” Mickey grumbled, pleased. 

The girls retreated now that they were aware flirting with Ian was useless. “You know you don’t have to be jealous, right?” Ian smiled softly. 

“I wasn’t jealous,” Mickey lied. 

“So if I go invite those girls to spend the day with us, you won’t mind?” Ian smiled innocently but Mickey saw right through it.

“Don’t you fucking dare you dick.” 

“Don’t worry, baby, your dick’s the only one I want to see,” Ian winked. 

“Quit calling me that,” Mickey muttered, feeling his cheeks heat from the pet name. Jesus, he never thought there’d come a day when he’d secretly like something like that. 

“You weren’t complaining about it the other night,” Ian’s lips brushed against his ear. Mickey closed his eyes, shivering. “You were such a mess underneath me, all hot and bothered.” 

Ian’s body heat fell over him. He waited for the neck kisses that never came. When Mickey opened his eyes, he found Ian heading towards the water. 

Fucking dick. 

“Come on, Mick!” Ian turned back to call at him over his shoulder. 

The water came rushing at him in large, thick waves. Mickey was wary by this, not moving any further to follow his husband out there. Did Ian really expect him to go out there where he was? 

He scratched his eyebrow, squinting at him against the sun with folded arms. 

“Mickey?” Ian frowned, water sloshing around his abdomen. He raised one arm to hold against his forehead, blocking the sunlight so he could look at him properly. “You good?” 

“Fine,” Mickey grunted, his legs feeling heavy as he forced himself to take a step forward. Didn’t want Ian figuring it out. 

“What’s wrong?” Ian had met him halfway so Mickey didn’t have to go out as far as he had. Thank God.

“Nothing, Firecrotch. Don’t worry about it,” Mickey shrugged him off. 

Ian clearly didn’t believe him but too fucking bad. Mickey wasn’t about to have this conversation in the damn ocean. It was embarrassing, knowin’ there were kids who knew how and he couldn’t, a grown ass man. 

He seemed to have some sense to him not to make a big deal out of it. Just to be an ass, he flicked some water at Mickey, getting him right in the face. “Ay!” Mickey faked a scowl. “Don’t start what you can’t finish, Red.” 

“Who says I can’t finish?” Ian said confidently. He flicked him again, and Mickey tried to grab his hand to stop him--and failed. 

Ian swooped down, a soft kiss on his lips. A chaste kiss just like the one Mickey gave him when they robbed the ex of that geriatric pedo all those years ago. 

It was just a little forceful, knocking into Mickey and nearly making him lose his footing if not for Ian taking hold of his waist. 

“Damn it, Gallagher,” Mickey said, and he couldn’t even suppress a smile of amusement. 

“Yeah, I guess I have a way of knocking you off your feet, huh?” Ian said grinning. 

Mickey snorted at his corniness. “Say that again and I’ll knock your fucking teeth out.” 

Ian’s smile was a smug one. “You haven’t knocked my teeth out yet.” 

“M’sure you’ll give me a reason to one of these days.” 

Mickey did not like the mischievous gleam in his husband’s eyes. “Don’t,” he warned. 

“I didn’t do anything, Mick.” 

“And you’re not gonna-” 

“Ow!” Ian suddenly cried. Mickey’s annoyance was promptly forgotten, vanishing just like that. 

“What happened?” He said, concerned. 

“Fuck,” Ian winced. “My foot--something just bit me!” He was half bent over in the water, groaning. 

“Alright, hang on, I’ll look-oof!” 

He’d tried to get a glimpse of whatever was down there, but his bastard of a husband shoved him down in the water. Mickey reemerged, his vision blurry, the water stinging his eyes. He probably looked like some fucking wet dog with his hair plastered to him. 

“You motherfucker!” 

He scowled, while Ian burst into loud cackling. 

“I didn’t--I didn’t think that would work. Oh my God!” 

“Fuck you,” Mickey said moodily. 

Ian was still laughing, leaning against him with his face in the older man’s bare shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said, completely insincere. 

“You’re a dick.” 

Pulling back, Ian grinned shamelessly.

“Takes one to know one.” 

“You’re lucky your ginger ass is too heavy,” Mickey glared, “or you’d be down there with the fish, bitch.” 

Ian smirked. “And they say romance is dead.” 

“Oh, you’re about to be. Just keep talking-” 

A big wave came towards them, cutting Mickey off when it crashed into them. It didn’t do much to Ian other than wet his hair. But Mickey was smaller than him, and the power of the wave had him moving. He’d never admit to anyone but he started to panic a little. 

But then strong arms wrapped themselves around him. “I got you,” Ian said soothingly, holding him close to his chest securely. 

Mickey breathed in and out, not even caring about where he was and who’d see him. “Fuck...” 

“You okay?” 

Mickey shrugged. 

“You can’t swim, huh?” Ian guessed softly. 

Even though it was true, Mickey still felt stupid for admitting it. His silence, however, was enough of an answer. 

“Baby,” Ian murmured. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Didn’t have a reason to...” 

“I thought we agreed not to keep secrets?” Ian buried his face in Mickey’s damp hair, mumbling. 

“It’s fucking embarrassing, Ian.” 

“It’s not that bad. Lots of people don’t know how to swim.” 

“You do.” 

“I took Debs and Carl to the pool a lot,” Ian said, then added, “You know, now that I think about it, I never saw you there.” 

“‘Cause I never went, dumbass.” 

“You should’ve,” Ian trailed his fingers up Mickey’s back. “Would’ve been really fucking hot to see you like that.” 

“The thought of me drowning really makes your dick twitch, Gallagher?” 

“Among other things,” Ian said cheekily. 

His husband was an idiot. But, Mickey watched him lay on his back trying to float on the water, maybe that was okay. 

He still loved the fucker anyway. 

[j0kers-light]

Hiiiii!!! Can I be known as 🥁anon? I was the one who requested Jokers music taste and the instrument one!! (So glad you liked them btw, you write so welll!!!!!!)

How about 10 signs that joker is in love/likes someone and his love language? I mainly imagine him as someone who denies the idea (just like in HL) but still acts on his feelings in his own way- maybe leaving gifts around and denying any sort of accountability for them?

“I’m telling you, you’ve had that necklace on before” - “Huh? I didn’t even know you liked hand bags.” - “You SERIOUSLY forgot you owned that car?”

Welcome 🥁 anon!!

A huge hey hi to you! Yes, your requests were so much fun to fill, I hope I did them some justice! Ahh! Thank you, I'm happy you love mi work! 😭😭🥹

Lol, ten signs that Joker is in love? YOU MEAN, TEN THINGS HE HATES ABOUT YOU? 🥴 sorry not sorry.

Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy 🥁 anon! 🖤✨

Denial is a river in Egypt because Joker refuses to admit that he loves you! But he's a man where the saying, "Actions speak louder than words” applies. He won't say it (lol Meg from Hercules) but there will be signs he’s in love.

Joker is already attentive but he's even more so as he begins to accept his feelings. He listens and retains the tiniest details about you so he can use the information for later. J shocks you when he remembers your obscure food order (and the extra sauces) when you only said it once in passing three months ago. Joker doesn't know, but his love language is heavy influenced by actions.

Another sign is Joker being more supportive. He's always in your corner motivating you to do anything you set your mind to but now he's more focused on your future with him. If you want a promotion, one is suspiciously available the next week or if you can't take the stress of your job and want to quit, Joker will offer to support you financially. You ask for it, Joker will make it happen.

Joker becomes more protective than ever. If the security cameras and secret detail wasn't enough proof how much Joker loves you, the way his eyes never leave your sight in public, the way he rests his hand on your lower back in crowds, or protects you from danger (that he may or may not have caused) is telling. Joker has never been a knight in shining armor before and he loves having something to protect. He will always protect his Light and takes his responsibility seriously.

Once he admits he's falling hard, Joker will become clingy and start introducing his love language of physical touch to you more. For years, he never let anyone close but you have that honor now. He holds you close while you're cooking, he plays with your hands during movie night marathons, and he denies enjoying cuddles—he's just cold—but you know better. Joker can't stop touching you in someway shape or fashion. He’s addicted now.

Which brings us to another sign. Gift giving is another one of Joker's strong love languages but this man will deny deny deny ever getting you anything!! He leaves them around for you to find and dramatically gasps when you do. "Gee Bunny, I don’t know why there's a shiny new hand bag on your bed.. I didn't know ya liked 'em." Or, "Ya don't know your own closet Bunny? This new winter coat still has the uhh, tag on it." Followed by a, "What a coincidence! Twenty-nine reported subway muggings just this week and you win a uhhh surprise car! Don't ya re-mem-ber entering that contest doll?" Joker loves buying you things but he sucks at lying.

Joker tends to forget his version of love is not normal so he gets possessive a lot. He's a jealous man by nature and if he sees competition, he will eliminate it. You don't need to know why the flirtatious guy at the front lobby no longer works there, or the guy that gave you his number was found dead the following day.. The thing is! Joker finally admitted that he loves you! He will not let anyone take you away from him.

Another sign from Joker is his sudden willingness to communicate. J is a mysterious, closed off individual. Its an honor to know anything about him so when J sits you down and opens up about his time spent in Arkham or explains what his childhood was like (but cautious, it could still be lies)— consider it a miracle. Joker is opening up to you! He wants you to know more about him and his shy, hesitant eyes staring into yours shows that he's vulnerable doing so. Don't take advantage of him in this state or you'll lose him forever.

Speaking of forever, you know Joker is all about planning. His backup plans have backup plans from B-Z. One day he found himself staring up at the ceiling planning on how to make things official with you and now it’s all he can think about. You’re not a secret and he’s tired of treating you like one. It'll be dangerous if he announces you as his girl, (you'll never be safe) but Joker wants the world to know that you love him so he stares off into the void and plots a way for it to work.

Contrary to popular belief Joker is not cold hearted. He can be passionate when the need arises and he cranks it up to 100% with you. Joker never had a healthy relationship so he tends to forget the intensity in which he loves you. He has so much emotion to give that he literally leaves you breathless. His kisses are greedy and desperate, and the way he clings to you during sex makes you combust with love. This man doesn't even know he can destroy you with a single touch and it’s better he remains blissfully unaware.

And lastly. The ultimate sign that Joker loves you. The moment Joker takes you to his main hideout, walking hand in hand, where anyone can see— is the moment you know he loves you. When Joker exposes you to his world, there’s no going back. You’re the one and when he orders all of his men in for a manatory meeting you're in tears. It’s finally happening.

"Good evening gentle men. I have a special announcement tonight." Joker pulls you to stand in front of him and proceeds to wrap his arms around you possessively.

Your heart is beating out of your chest while all of these men stare at you in shock. You don't blame them.

Joker is nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck but you miss the dark gleam in his eyes. They spell murder for anyone that dares to defy him. He scanned the crowd, looking for any naysayers.

"This is my Bunny and I'll kill anyone.. who's gotta problem with it."

[bachissidehoe]

no vacancy

chapter 2 of it's classy not classic

“Bachira? Hello?” Isagi panics into the phone, pacing around his bedroom in a plain white t-shirt and boxers for the second morning in a row. 

“Hey boyfriend.” Bachira’s groggy voice comes through on the other end. It sounds like he’s still in bed.

“So you’ve seen it.” 

“Yeah I saw it, it was sent to me like 50 times.” He yawns. 

“I’m so sorry. I can’t even believ- I’m really sorry I’ll tell everyone-” Isagi rushes through his words, speaking so fast that it doesn’t even sound like real sentences. 

“Calm down, calm down. Sheesh.” Bachira replies, sounding much too casual about this situation. It sounds like he’s just calmly stretching in his bed, while Isagi continues his panicked routine. 

“I need to tell everyone that’s not true, I can’t believe I dragged you into this-”

“You really don’t wanna date me that much?” Bachira giggles. How can he be so normal about this? 

“That’s not-” 

“It’s alright Isagi, it’s not a big deal. Some people took pictures of us together and it wasn’t hard to make the jump- you know, I just got out of a relationship and the breakup was pretty publicized in my circles.” Bachira explains.

Isagi holds his phone in front of them, scrolling through the tweets and articles about he and Bachira’s little date yesterday. Looking at it from an outside perspective, Isagi can completely understand why people may think that Bachira sipping from Isagi’s drink may indicate something more than a normal friendship. But anyone who knows Bachira personally would understand that these little quirks of his are just part of his personality.

“Oh- I didn’t even know.” 

“I know, my ex already texted me about it to ask what’s going on.” He chuckles. 

A situation like that would make Isagi even more panicked, but once again, Bachira just takes everything in his stride. 

“What? What did you say to her?” Isagi asked.

“You mean him? I didn’t respond to him yet.” Bachira replies.

Isagi pauses, nearly choking on air. That makes even more sense. “I didn’t know you were gay.” He blurts out. How did they hang out and it never came up? Especially because of the topic of conversation. But all things considered, that makes even more sense as to why the public seems to assume the two of them are in a relationship.

Bachira just laughs. “I’m bi.” 

“Oh. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said it like-” 

“Yeah. In my community it’s very known, so it makes sense that people would see me with you, and you just “came out”, and assume something’s going on.” Bachira sighs. “I probably should have thought of that.” 

“Well-” Isagi pauses. “What are you gonna say to him?” 

It’s not necessarily surprising that Bachira Meguru is bisexual. Isagi wouldn’t think anything of it if he weren’t involved in this current situation. But honestly, Isagi feels bad that his friend identifies this way at this specific point in time. Because if Bachira were straight, that would be an easy fix. 

“Not sure.” 

Isagi just sighs. “I’m sorry man.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “I’ll make a public post and clear everything up.” 

“Actually.” Bachira pauses. Isagi can hear him shuffling around, possibly leaving his bed. “I don’t think you should.” 

“Huh?”

“I think you should wait. It might not be worth explaining.” He continues. 

“Are you-”

“I’m saying we should just fake it. I’m in Tokyo for a couple months for work, we fake date until I move away, and then we fake break up because I’m moving and you’re a pro player and all.” He suggests. He says it so casually too, like it’s not the most insane idea Isagi has ever heard. “You know, just like the movies!” 

“You’re insane.” Isagi replies. It’s really all he can say. This can’t possibly be real life. 

“I’m so serious.” Bachira laughs. “Hold on, I’m coming over. Send me your address.”

“What the fuck is even happening?” Isagi feels his body shaking, he’s sweating yet freezing. He’s probably having a stress reaction. He might have to end up in a mental hospital. How the absolute fuck is he going to be able to show up to practice today?

“We have to make a plan. So I’m coming over. I’ll bring some food.” Bachira says, explaining his intentions as if they’re spies planning the heist of the century. Like it’s some game they have to win. Even after so many years, Bachira’s Blue Lock ego still hasn’t wavered. 

Isagi agrees, since he doesn’t really see himself having another option, but the entirety of the situation still doesn’t feel at all real. Back in Blue Lock, Isagi truly felt like his friendship with Bachira was special, like even though they hardly knew each other, they were on the same wavelength from the start. He assumed both of them would make it out, and he still believes they would have if not for Bachira’s injury. 

After that, Isagi was too embarrassed to talk to Bachira as often anymore. He felt guilty, like he didn’t earn his title over someone as talented as Bachira. It felt too weird to maintain their closeness. But now, it’s like it’s all back to normal, where Bachira is just as comfortable with him as he was six years ago. 

But that’s just how Bachira is. Clearly Isagi hasn’t respected Bachira’s ability to innocently trust the world. 

“Hey there!” 

Isagi opens the door to a smiling Bachira Meguru, holding multiple bags of takeout.

“That’s a lot of food.”

“Is it?” Bachira giggles. “I don’t know what you liked so I picked one of everything. Except the stuff I hate.”

“Geez. How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing.” He lets himself in, placing the bags of food on Isagi’s dining table. “I have more money than I know what to do with anyway.” 

“I get that.” Isagi replies. It’s true, being 22 years old doesn’t really require as much money as the two of them make- Isagi being a pro soccer player and Bachira being a successful artist. They can pay their bills, buy their own food, donate to charities and whatever else will make them look good to the general public, give some money to their families, and they still seem to have a lot of it. Neither of them are used to it. “Thanks.”

“Think of it like a date. Our second date.” 

“Stop it.” Isagi looks away, feeling his face flush. He doesn’t understand how Bachira can still be so casual about this despite being caught up in a blatant lie. Isagi can’t help but assume that the worst will happen, that he’ll be outed for being a liar and a horrible person and fired from being a pro player. Bachira, on the other hand, seems like he couldn’t care less. 

“So let’s talk about it.” Bachira sits at the table, making himself at home as he starts unpacking some of the food. “I think we should just keep giving the public what they want, we can hang out and go on “dates” and stuff, go to each other’s events, and it’ll die down on its own.” 

“You’re being so normal about this.” Isagi replies. 

Isagi figured he couldn’t eat with how much stress he’s under, but those pork buns smell good enough to convince him to sit across from his friend and try one. 

Bachira shrugs, shoveling a few chopsticks full of rice in his mouth. “Well, it’s not as big of a deal as you think it is.” 

“Huh? I trapped you in this with me because I lied on an interview. Now you have to pretend like you’re my boyfriend and I’m not even gay, I don’t know if you’re trying to fix things with your ex or whatever, and if you weren’t but wanted to date other people your entire time in Tokyo is just ruined because you wouldn’t be able to date if everyone thinks you’re dating m-” 

Bachira flicks a grain of rice at Isagi, hitting him in the nose. 

“What the fuck Bachira?” Isagi swipes the rice away, meeting the gaze of his smirking friend. 

“Just say you don’t wanna date me.” He giggles. 

“Can you be for fucking real for one second?” 

“Fine, fine.” He picks the face-rice off the table and tosses it in an empty bag. “I don’t care that you’re straight, I like hanging out with you and this would just mean hanging out with you more. I am definitely not trying to get back with Hiro, and after that relationship, I’m also not trying to date or fuck anyone else for the forseeable future.” Bachira explains. “I think that covers everything you were concerned about.” 

Though much of Bachira Meguru’s cutesy, eccentric personality remains the same as it was back in Blue Lock, much about him has changed as well. Isagi can tell that he prefers to be lighthearted, but that he’s also matured a lot. He’s put together, he dresses nice, it’s clear he’s maintained his physique and takes care of himself, and he’s obviously working hard. 

“Any of that could change, though.” Isagi says, but much quieter and less confident than before. 

“Stop making it seem like you’re ruining my life.” Bachira smiles, softer this time. 

Isagi sighs. It doesn’t seem like a big deal to Bachira now, but anything could change in the next couple of months. 

“Fine.” He says after a while. “It’s not different than just hanging out with you, I guess.” 

“Yippee!” Bachira raises his chopsticks into the air. “My new classy relationship, Blue Lock best friends to lovers, rich boys from different worlds-” 

“Damn don’t get too excited.” Isagi jokes. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” Bachira leans in as if there could be anyone listening in Isagi’s completely empty apartment. 

“Uh, ye-”

“I sort of want Hiro to be jealous.” He admits. 

“Oh-”

“Anyway!” Bachira quickly shoves some more food in his mouth. “Moving on.” 

“O-kay?” Isagi finds it best if he just lets Bachira lead the conversation. It’s always been that way, with Bachira doing whatever he wants and Isagi simply letting him. 

“I have to ask, have you ever even dated anyone? Sorry if it’s too personal.” 

“No, no, I guess we should make sure we know things about each other.” Isagi answers. “I’ve dated here and there, but never a serious relationship.” 

“So you’ve kissed girls?”

“I mean yeah-”

“Have you had sex before?”

“Not super often but occasionally-” 

“Ah.”

Isagi answers the barrage of questions quickly, but it’s clear Bachira needs some additional context. They’re definitely personal questions, but nothing Isagi is super uncomfortable sharing with him. They’re “dating” now, after all. He decides to elaborate.

“I just can’t saddle anyone with being in a relationship with me. Any girl would always be second to soccer. There’s no vacancy in my life for a person to come between what I really love. I just don’t think it’s possible for me, so it wouldn’t be fair to her, you know?” Isagi explains, looking down at his untouched pork bun. Now’s as good a time as any to actually start eating. 

He makes a mental note to ask Bachira where he ordered from later. This food is damn good. 

“Do you know that girls are interested in you?” Bachira inquires further.

“Yeah, I mean of course. But like I said, there’s no room for anyone between me and soccer. It’s the only thing I care about that deeply, I guess it’s like my one true love or whatever.” Isagi answers, taking another bite. 

Bachira chuckles. “I totally get it, but I think you’d be surprised.” 

“Hm?”

“You’d be surprised how simple it can be to have two loves at the same time, where both of them are number 1.” He smiles. 

[nebula-chao-agere]

Regressor! Vanitas

(!¡!Pull-up/Diaper/Accident mention!¡!)

He is literally the smallest baby ever, he doesn’t even speak usually. Very rarely he’ll be around three (when they HAVE to be in public but Vanitas can’t make himself stop regressing), but Noé is almost always left with trying to decipher his fussy baby’s whines and crying.

Regresses to make up for his sorry excuse of a childhood but says it’s just to relieve stress. He claims his childhood “doesn’t bother him” only because he can’t find the right words to properly express this empty hurt inside of him because of it, and he truly believes he can never actually make anyone understand how painful it is for him.

Though he denies it like his life depends on it, and claims it’s a very rare thing, he tends to regress quite often. If not during the day or after they return home, usually during their nightly routine, Vanitas will start to regress.

Noé couldn’t help but notice how quiet his partner had gotten, practically nonverbal the moment they stepped through the door. “Is that a sleepy little prince I spy?” Noé asked with a gentle voice, receiving a small whine in response. “Ohhh, my poor little baby. So tired and stressed from all that big kid work. He deserves a break doesn’t he?” The vampire walks over to the edge of his bed, where Vanitas is now awkwardly playing with his own hands. He kneels down infront of him, and looks up to Vanitas’ eyes. They were glossy and he looked about ready to meltdown. “Oh baby…Baby baby baby…shhhh” he gently whispered to his forehead as he swiftly hoisted him up to his hip. “Let’s go get your kitty little one. Would that help mon ange?” Vanitas hesitated to, and nodded ever so slightly, a shuddering breath heard. “Oh my little Vanitas, Papa’s here.” A very weak sound escaped the smaller male’s lips, one he barely forced out but couldn’t bring himself to choke down. “Papa…”

Without Noé there to guide him while regression, he honestly has no idea what he’s doing. His childhood was completely ripped from him, so he’s unsure of what he’s supposed to be doing for the most part. As long as he can cuddle his Papa though, he doesn’t seem to mind being lost. And Noé almost always has activities set up for him.

The first time he read Vanitas a bedtime story, Vanitas didn’t understand why, but he just started crying and Noé was quick to comfort him. Vanitas wanted to say ‘thank you’ but just couldn’t get it out. Noé understood.

The first time Vanitas regressed at all, neither of them had any idea what was happening, but Noé knew Vanitas needed this. He took him into his arms, not saying a word as he just let Vanitas cry to him as he apologized profusely for trying to kill him.

“No-é! Please! I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!” Vanitas wept like he’d never wept before. He was crying for the first time in years into the shoulder of this vampire he’d grown so attached to he couldn’t even bring himself to kill him. He cared so deeply for this man, it was absolutely killing him. Vanitas was not supposed to love, never ever. But… “Please don’t leave Noé! Please! Please please please! I’ll never do it again!” He sobbed, grabbing tightly to the vampire’s sweater, soaking its shoulder. It was already pathetic enough he was showing such strong emotion to him, but he was literally desperate for him to continue to exist around him. He felt so small and comforted in his arms. For once in his life, he wasn’t cold and scared. He had a home to return to, someone to return to for a feeling of safety. “I won’t leave you Vanitas. I forgive you…I’m here.” Noé softly spoke, lips close to the shorter male’s forehead. This went on for hours until Vanitas finally collapsed into Noé’s arms, shivering and exhausted. “I’m here now Vanitas…I’m here…” he tucked a bit of the exhausted Vanitas’ hair behind his ear. Vanitas had hardly said anything, but he didn’t have to. Noé knew…not to the extent Vanitas had experienced but enough. But he didn’t need to understand, feeling there was enough pain in this scared boy to have more than warranted such a meltdown.

Noé once suggested Johann, Dante, and Riche could look over Vanitas if he were to run errands, and he went BALLISTIC at the thought of that ‘old man’ having to babysit him, a grown man. Only Noé can know about this secret, and even then he only knows a fraction of what Vanitas really does/wants to do.

-Sometimes they both regress, because-

If Noé even brings up regression in any conversation ever, Vanitas goes ballistic.

Noé often refers to him as “Mon ange” “Mon bébé” “Mon petit chéri” and “sunshine.” The last usually tends to inexplicably make Vanitas go very quiet, cry, or just become an extra needy baby.

When regressed, he really likes to bother Murr. Murr doesn’t mind being held like a stuffie, or being cried into by a lonely little sunshine.

His favorite pacifier is a yellow one with little suns on it.

His favorite stuffie is a Siamese cat beanie baby named Snip.

He really likes sleeper onsies, as they cover his super scarred body.

Absolutely hates talking when regressed, especially about ‘big boy topics’ like his past, his relationship with Jeanne (not a romantic one, but the fact she’s bitten him before), and especially Mikhail. However, since he tends to regress because of stress instead of using it to ease/prevent stress, he tends to find himself panicking to a stuffed animal at the thought of just existing the way he has been.

Embarrassing as it is, he really likes things intended for the littlest of babies, wanting to experience them for the first time. He has a really big interest with little items, even if he doesn’t know what they’re originally for, as his childhood is nothing but a living nightmare. So, he tends to wear diapers for comfort, and sometimes even pull-ups just for when he’s big and wants to feel safer.

Very frequent nightmares, Vanitas always running to Noé for comfort. Whether they’re already in bed together or Vanitas runs to him sobbing, Papa is immediately his first and only hope of calming down down.

-He also tends to have a-lot of night-time accidents because of nightmares.

-He is very very very very very shy about his accidents but also isn’t good at changing himself, nor does he have the mental capacity in the moment to do so, and he tends to run off and hide right after he’s realized it’s happened. Even if it is 3 in the morning, he’s just woken up to a storm and Noé is trying to help him stay calm, he’ll slide out of bed and run to hide somewhere, like the bathroom or he’ll take a blankie to hide himself in the corner. The only exception to this, is when he wakes up from nightmares. The only moment he isn’t scared to ask for anything is when he’s woken up from a nightmare, and he will hold onto a sleeping Noé, fist fulls of his shirt in his hand as he sobs and wails into his Papa’s chest for comfort. Noé, despite being a heavy sleeper usually wakes up pretty quickly when it comes to his little one.

“PAPA! PAPA PAPA!” Vanitas screams as he sits up in bed, tears cascading down his cheeks. The taller vampire sits up as soon as he hears the desperate cries, and pulls him into his lap as fast as he can. “Oh Mon Ange…shhh shhh…” he whispers, lips to the top of his head as he then placed a few kisses. “Sweet baby, Papa’s here. Calm down little one, everything will be okay. It wasn’t real sweetheart, you’re right here with me little star. It’s okay…shhhh…” Noé wraps a blanket loosely over Vanitas’ shoulders as he bawls out into the night. “I know baby, I know…”

Kitties! Lots of kitty stuffies, kitty toys, blankies with kitties on them, pacifier with a kitty on it, kitty themed play mat, kitty themed children’s bowls/plates/silverware with paw prints on it, etc. Lots of kitties! (And stars)

Follows his Papa around like a lost puppy

Refuses to do anything ‘little’ in public, and won’t even go with Noé to pick out new little stuff for himself because he thinks somehow everyone would know.

He loves having stories read to him. Even after having 10 different stories read to him, he will still hand Noé another book.

Very picky/weird about toys. He has trouble playing with toys like blocks or puzzle blocks, but really likes small figures like LPS that he can just set up and make scenes with rather than really playing with them. The only toys he really plays with are very very infantile toys that require minimal thinking and effort, like rattles and the ring stack toys.

Even when big, but especially when small, he hates asking for things.

He absolutely hates bath time, and having to let Noé see his scars, and especially his arm. Noé has never mentioned it, but they both know it’s something to be worried about. For little Vanitas’ sake though, he never brings it up in conversation. Baths are usually an ordeal neither look forward to, but Noé always makes sure he takes them when little. Vanitas will cling, and even cry, to his Papa while being cleaned in the tub until he’s wrapped in a towel and let out.

Though baths are not his favorite, Vanitas is always rewarded with Noé massaging his whole body with lotion afterwards, and it’s become part of their nightly routine when Vanitas is little. The intimacy and soothing-ness of the act is essential in getting a regressed Vanitas to sleep.

He also demands lullabies, a bottle, and a nightlight so he can sleep. If his nightlight is dead or just won’t turn on, it’s a long sleepless night for Noé and a new nightlight added to his grocery receipt that week

Cuddling > playing > napping > bath

Whines and pouts a lot

Noé is very enthusiastic about Vanitas when regressed, and gets very excited to help him into cute jammies and coo over his sweet little baby. Sometimes he hugs Vanitas a little too tightly without realizing it.

Absolutely hates crying at all, especially in front of Noé, but when it isn’t from a sudden scare, Vanitas will dash off to hide somewhere when he feels he has to cry. He’ll even curl up as small as possible and hide under the kitchen sink to cry over spilling his juice. Of course Papa comes to fetch his little one and pulls him out from under there to hold him close and help him calm down after a bit of fussing and hesitance.

He has probably bit Noé before and would absolutely do it again.

Vanitas is actually very self conscious about his inability to really be happy that often when he’s regressed. Usually the reason he feels small: he’s on the verge of a panic attack, super stressed out, or just so exhausted he’s to the point of tears. While little he can’t help but feel really tired and often sad. But Papa always tells him it’s okay to be sad and have emotions like that, and even more okay to tell him about it and express them. Crying and being sad is part of being human, and with the sensitive topic of why Vanitas regresses, it’s only human he’d be a scared little one.

[lorelodge]

gomez & morticia !

The Ultimate Relationship Meme

Gomez & Morticia

GENERAL:

• Rate the Ship -   Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

• How long will they last? - Until death do they part (and maybe even after that).

• How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Immediately. Rom com level love at first sight. They hadn't even known each other 24 hours and they already knew they wanted to be married.

• How was their first kiss? - Incredible and they're still having it as we speak.

WEDDING:

• Who proposed? - Gomez.

• Who is the best man/men? - Uncle Fester and Lurch.

• Who is the bridesmaid(s)? - Thing and Ophelia.

• Who did the most planning? - Morticia.

• Who stressed the most? - Gomez.

• How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

• Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - It wasn't that anyone was specifically not invited. They invited the neighborhood and basically nobody showed up besides family. No. They didn't notice or care.

SEX:

• Who is on top? - They'll switch off but usually it's Morticia tbh.

• Who is the one to instigate things? - It depends on their mood but usually Morticia looks at Gomez and that's really all he needs before he has the overwhelming desire to devour her with kisses.

• How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

• How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

• How long do they normally last? - Until the morning dungeon bells.

• How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

• How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

CHILDREN:

• How many children will they have naturally? -They technically don't have any "natural" births the way you or I may think of it. Both children are biologically theirs. Ophelia was their surrogate for Pugsley. His blonde hair and cheery demeanor comes from her. The second time around they decided to have a cauldron baby, hence Wednesday appearing as an exact replica of her mum.

• How many children will they adopt? - None.

• Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - They equally handle the diapers. But they don't consider it "getting stuck" since they love their children, even at their most incontinent.

• Who is the stricter parent? - Lurch & Mama Addams.

• Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Lurch & Thing.

• Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Pugsley & Lurch.

• Who is the more loved parent? - Their kids both love them equally. Gomez is considered the more "fun" parent but Morticia offers good advice.

• Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? Both. They are both very invested in their children. Gomez may have a slight lead but both try to be there. Even if one of them can't be there in person they will use a spell to appear in one of the nearby mirrors so they can get the lowdown.

• Who cried the most at graduation? - Gomez.

• Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Morticia because Gomez is probably in jail with them.

COOKING:

• Who does the most cooking? - Morticia will often help Mama Addams cook. She has a knack for even the most complex recipes. Sometimes Gomez will help but he doesn't have the same black thumb.

• Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Gomez can be very finicky. He loves home cooked meals and considers the gourmet restaurants he occasionally is forced to endure to be icky. I mean, how can they consider themselves gourmet when they never have witches brew!

• Who does the grocery shopping? - They home grow a lot of ingredients and source others from the swamp. Occasionally Lurch has to visit a grocery store. Thing accompanies him for moral support.

• How often do they bake desserts? - Does baking cyanide brownies count as desert? If so they bake those together every so often... or Momma Addams bakes while Gomez & Morticia keeps her company.

• Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Home grown, exotic vegetables that will make your skin crawl (literally) and meats imported from the spookiest corners of the earth. They aren't picky.

• Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - they surprise. Gomez will surprise Morticia French Batwings and the finest slime spread; Morticia whips out an old family recipe for the finest cauldron stew.

• Who is more likely to suggest going out? - gomez

• Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - Pugsley and Gomez trying to make a Mothers Day surprise. 

CHORES:

• Who cleans the room? - Lurch.  

• Who is really against chores? - Nobody, really. They'll all do chores if they absolutely have to, but also what else do they have Lurch for if not to do those chores for them. 

• Who cleans up after the pets? - Lurch & Morticia.

• Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Uncle Fester.

• Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Morticia.

• Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? -Lurch and it's more like $100.

MISC:

• Who takes the longer showers/baths? - bold of you to assume they would take separate showers/baths. As if they could bear to be apart for that long.

• Who takes the dog out for a walk? - They don't have a dog but Pugsley and Wednesday like to take Kitty out for walks much to their neighbors dismay.

• How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Their home is perpetually decorated for spooky holidays. On Halloween they break out their scariest decore (Christmas lights & more). On Christmas they put out their most welcoming gargoyles and leave out cyanide cookies in the shape of bats.

• What are their goals for the relationship? - Be happy. Be good parents. Love each other more every day.

• Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - They think they're early risers because they wake up at 2pm (while the sun is still up) and don't go to bed until 6-7am (sun is just coming up).

• Who plays the most pranks? - Gomez and Thing.