#reposting my earlier work because i can and it's free

[omniblades-and-stars]

Under the Rays of an Autumn Sun

It pulses, bass beats thrumming so loud they become the shared heartbeat of the dancers under strobing azure lights. The lifeblood of Purgatory's night scene. Sweating bodies press and writhe together in sensual, decadent harmony. An asari undulates and her jewelry glitters like starlight with every pass of the light. There are many beautiful women here tonight, but none are the one I am looking for.

"Amonkira. Lord of Hunters. Grant that my hands be steady, my aim be true, and my feet swift," I whisper from my seat at the bar. No one hears my prayers over the driving music that courses through our veins. "And should the worst come to pass, grant me -"

"Whiskey, straight please," she says with a voice that has the strength of a rushing river. My prayers are answered before I am finished saying them. She smells of jasmine, a fragile and small, white blossom from Earth. I look up and I am greeted by eyes that look like the desert sands glimmering under the rays of an autumn sun, and she is looking at me.

I have always had a weakness for beautiful eyes. Humans have a saying, "The eyes are the windows into the soul." It's a sentiment I wholeheartedly share. Hers are a light brown that I am unused to seeing in humans, but they are heavy. I can see the weight she carries within them, evident in the red lines lightly spidering over the white space around her iris.

Blue tinged glass presses to soft, bare lips, and she coughs as the liquid burns down her throat. A warm chuckle bubbles up after it, and she sits next to me. "I don't know if I'll ever learn," she shakes her head, chestnut waves brush against the sun-kissed and freckled skin exposed on her back. "Eden Shepard," she says and offers me her hand to shake. She is named after the holy garden of one of Earth's many creation myths. It suits her, I think, but the thought passes before I can fully understand why I feel that way.

A warm, calloused hand wraps around mine, rougher than most human women, evidence of a life spent in service to her military. I can imagine how she holds her standard issue assault rifle based on the strength of her hands alone. "Niké Taon," I lie very kindly. The fine hairs on her muscular arms rise above goosebumps in response to my voice. I'm pleased by this.

"What are you drinking, Niké? I'm already regretting my choice. I barely like Earth's whiskey." She swirls the glass around, minute amber waves rise up around the edges, threatening to spill over onto her fingers. The liquor in the glass is pungent, sharp, I would not want to drink it either.

"Serrice Ice Brandy, it is far gentler on the tongue," I say as I raise my own glass to my lips. She watches me as I drink, I can see her eyes move as she considers my actions, my words are a subtle suggestion.

The music changes, it is very different from the usual synthetically generated house music that is always playing here. The beat is slower, and the drums roll out in a cascading pattern over what I believe humans call "funk guitar" that is the accent to the music not the driving force, the movement is all in the drums. Shepard moves quickly, her hand wraps around my wrist, and I fight the instinct to break hers to free myself from her grasp. She smiles at me, she looks like the sun. One of her front teeth is chipped. "I love this song! Dance with me, Niké!" She is pulling me after her, and I oblige.

I watch Eden Shepard every time she comes to the Citadel. In everything, she is meticulous, careful, and guarded. She travels with well-armed companions most of the time, usually a turian with a sniper rifle and the apparent skill required to use it, and a quarian woman armed with a high end omni-tool and a shotgun. Occasionally, she brings a krogan battlemaster with deep scars cut into his crimson head plates. I am skilled, but I am not foolish.

The only time she is not meticulous, careful, and guarded is when she goes to Purgatory. Here, she is not a commander or a marine. Of the three times I have seen her dancing in the club, she has gone to a hotel with a stranger twice.

I will be the third. It is the only way to avoid unnecessary violence.

Her cerulean dress clings to her skin as if it is a part of her, hard planes of muscle, broad shoulders all on display. Long legs disappear into the fabric stretched across muscular thighs. Now that she is standing, I can see her pistol strapped to her leg, below the short hem of her dress. It is a HMWP, the kind of handgun only a Spectre can get. Her status as the Council’s agent may be the reason why she is allowed to wear it so brazenly here. She does not wear synthetic leather or latex like most of the other dancers. I can feel the breathable, light, organic weave of her dress, soft under my fingers as she guides my hand to her waist.

The music moves through her with a shiver and she is overtaken by a spell. Eden presses her back against me, her eyes are closed and she is adrift in an ocean of harmonic waves. Then, almost as soon as she started, she stumbles, loses the rhythm and she can’t quite seem to get it back. I'm surprised by this, I have seen how she moves during a fight, the rhythm of gunfire guides her and she sows violence with the grace of a ballet dancer. It is why I have chosen to isolate her, she has the skills necessary to be a challenge.

This is clumsy. I know she is not inebriated, her glass is still sitting on the bartop, the honey colored liquid vibrates with the pulsating beat.

She throws her head back against my shoulder, and she laughs. The sound is jubilant, it rolls out of her with reckless abandon, and I am infected. I have not felt unadulterated joy in so long, it awakens a fire within me. The curve of her neck, a fragile thing, easily broken with the right twist of my hands, is exposed to me, and my mind is filled instead with thoughts of suckling on the tender skin there. I want to hear what other sounds I can draw from soft, rose-colored lips.

“I’ve never been good at dancing,” she shouts over the oscillations filling the air around us, she is still laughing, still moving off beat. I find myself enraptured, she throws herself so fully into an endeavor that she is mediocre at without embarrassment.

I have forgotten why I am here. No, I remember, I cannot forget. My goal has changed very suddenly, to end a life such as this would be as snuffing out a sun. The galaxy would grow unbearably bleak without the light of her gold-flecked eyes and the pure, sonorous mirth of her laughter.

I pull her flush against me, I feel the way her abdomen tightens under my palms, and a pleased sigh escapes from her, barely audible over the noise. But I am listening for every melodious note that she will bless me with. I lean down, my lips play across the ridge of her ear, “I will lead you, Eden. We will move as one tonight.”

A shiver rolls down her spine, and her cheeks blossom with color. “Yes,” her response flows out on a gentle breath. She wraps her hands over mine, and we are moving in tandem. Her eyes close again and she gives in, she surrenders control. The way she moves against me is full of power and promise, but she wants to be led. I feel a cord being pulled taut within me, I am full of wanting, and I need to feel her writhe like this beneath me.

As we dance, sweat gathers in beads like crystals along the swell of her breasts, and they roll suggestively into the valley between, disappearing where I cannot see them any longer. She guides one of my hands up her body, it ghosts teasingly over her chest, before she brings our hands to a rest against the side of her neck. I apply the faintest hint of pressure, I can feel the strain of tendons and ridges of her throat.

She moans, a sound of pure desire, and her fingers tighten over mine. “I have a room nearby, stay with me tonight?” A panting and plaintive request, it sounds almost like a prayer. It is I who should be praying to her.

I do not want to deny her, I do not believe that I could. “I said we would move as one tonight. Have you slept with a drell before?”

“I’ve never even seen anyone who looks like you before,” she pauses for a moment before continuing, “You’re beautiful.” She does not seem embarrassed by the admission, and I feel my heart swell with pride.

“I have venom, on my skin, on my tongue. You will be exposed to it.”

She is silent for precious heartbeats, I can feel her pulse quicken with my hand still pressed against her neck. “Will it kill me? Make me sick?”

I am at her ear again, and I can feel her squirm to try to move closer. “No. Eden, it will rob you of your senses until all that you know is the pleasure that I will give you. You will soar to the cosmos with my tongue in between your legs.” Her body shudders and I can feel how she is squeezing her thighs together. Her heart is racing, excitement thrums through her veins, just as it is through mine.

“Fuck,” she groans, and I can feel the warmth rising from her cheeks down to her breasts. She has already come undone for me.

Her grip around my hand increases, and suddenly she is pulling me away from the dance floor and quickly out of the club. The sudden silence is shocking, and I have to shake my head to clear the momentary confusion.

“I know a shortcut, I hope you’re not afraid of back alley thugs?”

It is my turn to laugh, it’s a sound I have not heard in too long. “Not at all.”

Eden’s head tilts a little, and she grins. Something cocksure and self-satisfied falls over her features. She enjoys the risk, and invites the danger to meet her. I have now seen the two faces of the same goddess. “Good. I would much rather see a gun in my face than another reporter’s camera.” I understand now why she comes all the way here to escape her duties and the pressure of being the first human Spectre.

I allow her to lead me through the alleys, though I already know where we're going. The last two were not brave enough to go this way, but I remember the twists and turns of this maze. I have been here before. I know it so well, I can easily spend the walk watching the subtle swing of her hips, the robust curve of her ass, and the sinewy muscles working in her legs as she walks ahead of me. She never looks behind at me, she is alert, her right hand lingers next to her hip, ready to draw her gun in a moment.

It is unnecessary. We arrive at the small hotel, well known for hosting Alliance marines on shore leave, without seeing a soul. She unlocks the door and she surprises me by turning to face me and pulling me into the room after her. The omni-tool on her wrist glows amber, and the door locks behind us. She has me by the collar of my synthetic weave armor, and her lips press into mine and they are even softer than they look. She giggles as I pull her flush against me.

“Do you always wear armor to go clubbing?” She asks her question to my mouth, she sounds deeply amused, not suspicious.

“Do you always wear a gun to go dancing?” I respond with a question that does not answer her query. I am so hot and it is taking all of my willpower not to rush. It is taking all of my willpower not to reveal my true name.

I can feel her smile, but I cannot see it, so close she is to me. “Fair enough … You’re going to have to give me some guidance, I don’t know where I should touch you,” she admits, her breath still warm against my lips.

I am an assassin, not a professor, but I will teach her tonight. I take her hand in mine and bring it to the frills at my neck, "Here, gently." I feel as she runs her thumb slowly across the folds there, she is watching her hand move as though she is trying to memorize the experience. Her touch sends electrical pulses through me, and warmth follows her fingers in a trail. Eden does not notice that I have unzipped her dress until the small straps holding it up fall loose on her arms.

She is not shy, however. Her answer is to step back and pull the garment up and over her head, and simultaneously kick off her shoes. She is suddenly a few inches shorter, but I barely notice. Eden Shepard stands before me wearing only underwear and a gun holster, and she is resplendent. The cheap lights illuminate freckled skin and soft breasts, the rise and fall of her chest is hypnotic. The small cloth barely covering the rest of her is soaked with her arousal, and I am overcome by this burning lust that has been building inside of me.

I want to taste her, all of her, starting with her mouth. I take her, my hand finds its way into the soft hair at the back of her head, and her heat is pulled against me, I can feel it even through my armor. Before I can take her mouth for mine, her hand gently falls to my lips. "Wait," she says. Her lids are heavy and she has not moved away, but still I worry that I've offended her. "I want to see all of you first. I want to be able to remember what you look like, clearly."

"Of course," I answer, and soon she is helping me remove the pieces of my armor. I am now as vulnerable as she is, more, in fact. She is still wearing her gun, and I know she's a powerful biotic in her own right. If her plan all along was to put me under a spell and bring me here so that she could end me, it would have worked.

But that is not what she does. Hazel eyes sweep over my form, and she is unabashed in her hunger. "Beautiful," she whispers, and this time she does not stop me from breathing in her praise as I claim her lips. She tastes faintly of the whiskey, but underneath it, something like citrus, she must have eaten before going to Purgatory. I brush my thumb over the roundness of her cheek, it is rougher than I imagined. Chapped by the winds of some barely hospitable planet, I think. As I am contemplating where she must have been last, I reach and undo the buckles holding her gun to her leg. It falls to the floor, and she doesn't care.

Her hands are all over me, her earlier hesitation forgotten as they roam every surface she can touch. She uses feathering touches along my waist and I cannot stop the rumbling chuckle that moves out of me in response, I am ticklish there. Eden hums in delight, and I catalog it as another of her sounds that I will cherish forever after this night. I know I will never see her again after this.

I memorize her on this night. Every sigh, every groan, every pleasured shout. The way she smells, jasmine mixed with the salt of her sweat and the musk of her desire. I know her taste and every place that makes her quiver and shake. The strength of her grasp as she pulls me against her and shouts a name she believes is mine. I will remember her eyes. First, as they were in Purgatory, bright and earthy. Then, as they were as we found release together, pupils so wide, only a thin halo of hazel around depths so dark, I am forever drowning in them.

I am saddened that she cannot remember as I can, but I hope she will think of me fondly. I will always remember how she sleeps on her stomach, an arm and a leg flung over the edge of the bed. I will remember the faintest sound of laughter at something only she can see, her dream bringing her some joke or oddity.

I must leave before she wakes. I am thrice damned and banished from the Garden of Eden of my own accord. I do not deserve to bask in her holy light.

I think I will go to Illium next.

I am crawling through an air ventilation shaft. It is a trite, stereotypical way to conduct an assassination, but effective nonetheless. I am not above convention if it leads me directly to my target. There is a group of soldiers fighting their way up the tower. They are the perfect distraction, this will be far simpler with their unknowing aid.

When I arrive at her office, my target is talking to someone, offering credits in exchange for the opportunity to keep her life. I can't hear the voice of the one she speaks to clearly. Nassana Dantius does not hear me drop from the ceiling.

I land behind a guard. Human male, rear approach, check shoulder to prevent turning, hands to chin and base of skull, neck-snap. Heavy pistol fire to dispatch the remaining guard. Nassana turns, I hold her in my arms as one might while comforting a lover and I shepherd her to the waters so lovingly tended by Kalahira.

There are three soldiers staring at me, but prayers for the wicked must not be forsaken. To my surprise, they wait for me to finish. As I turn to face them, their leader, a woman, puts her hands on her verdant helmet. She is a freelancer, perhaps.

"Well, I'll be damned, what a small galaxy," she says after a surprised chuckle. Even through the gentle warp of her breather helmet, it is a laugh that I treasure in my memories. A gentle hiss as the seal around her bright green helmet is released and chestnut hair falls in a wave, framing a smile like the sun, but her tooth is no longer chipped. Eyes the color of desert sands glimmering under the rays of an autumn sun look back at me. Her cheeks are covered in spidering, but healing scars. There can be no denying it, Eden Shepard stands before me. "It's safe to assume that your name never was Niké, was it?"

She is amused, I can hear her pure, sonorous, mirthful laughter hiding there, just beneath the surface of her question. "I apologize for the deception, Eden. It seemed necessary, at the time." She raises an eyebrow at me, I think perhaps she understands the context, but she is not upset. "I thought you were dead," I remark, everyone knows that she was killed two years ago. And not by me. It seems that fortune favors the bold, and there is no one bolder than her.

"I was dead - spaced with a suit rupture. But apparently it takes more than that to stop me!" She raises her armored fist in the air, a victorious gesture. She is laughing again, soulful eyes twinkle, and I feel the fire awaken in me once more. She is merry in spite of her own mortality. "I'm taking on the Collectors. I need someone with your skills on my team, Thane." I am blessed by my true name on her soft, rose-colored lips.

It is only now that I fully comprehend her two compatriots, a turian with a sniper rifle and the apparent skill required to use it, and a quarian woman armed with a high end omni-tool and a shotgun.

It is a small galaxy, indeed.

[lollixp0p]

The Video (18+)

Pairing: Best friend!Hwang Hyunjin x afab!reader

Genre: Smut (MDNI), bit of feelings

Word count: just under 3k!

Warnings: Idol!au, subby!Hyunjin, slightly perv!reader, recording, (maybe a bit dub con because he doesn't mean to send it but reader watches it anyway), mommy kink, masturbation (both but separately), Hyunjin fantasizes about reader, reader fantasizes about Hyunjin, lmk if I missed anything!!

Summary: Hyunjin finally gets some alone time after weeks of hard work and decides to use his time to... relax. The next day he ends up sending you something on accident that sets off a big change in your lives, with or without either of you really realising.

Note: My first ever fic!! :3 Inspired by a video I saw on phub. (@cbini (Ems isn't on Tumblr rn she still wanted to be tagged so I hope it's ok), @comet-falls, @hyunsvngs, @mnwrld and @skz-hell lmao hello everyone, writing blog reveal!!😁 here's this fic I've mention to all of you as an anon<3 (depending on who you are I'm either ❄️anon, 🐾anon or sounding anon😳)). To anyone reading this please give me literally any feedback (comment, reblog, anything!), I want to know if this is good or not since it's my first fic🙏😣

Please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works!

It's been exactly three weeks since Hyunjin's had any time for just himself, though it feels like months at this point.

Recently everyone's been running around like headless chickens and between vocal trainings, dance practices and the studio, there hasn't been much time to just relax and recharge. Preparing for a new album really is the busiest time of an idols life.

There hasn't even been time to see family or friends, which is common during busy spells like this, but always dissapointing to think about. Now even more so, with how much he's been wishing to spend time with you, one of his closest friends... who also happens to be his crush. Not that he'd ever let you know though, not in a very long time.

It feels almost like a blessing, getting back to the dorms from practice late in the evening and realising... he's got the place all for himself, at least until his roommates get back from the studio.

Changbin had messaged him earlier, telling him that they'd probably be there well past midnight, so there was no use waiting up for them. To him though, this was the very opposite of an issue. With that much free time, he'd definitely be able to... make himself comfortable, so to speak.

See, not having time to relax also means he'd basically had no time to get off. The best he'd been able to do had been quick little sessions barely once a week in the shower right before passing out on his bed from the exhaustion of working hard.

The realisation that he'd be able to do anything he wants during his time alone is enough to get his dick twitching in his jeans and he decides the shower can wait until later.

Hyunjin goes to his room and locks the door after himself even though he's alone, it's just become a habit after so many years living with his members. He sets his bag down next to his bed and thinks through his plan.

Hyunjin has a little secret, which is that he loves recording himself do dirty things that range from more vanilla to much less vanilla. Something about the thrill of being recorded even if no one will ever see it just... makes him so fucking horny.

He opens the camera of his phone, puts it to video mode and presses record. Moving his hand off the lense and setting it down where he normally sets it, on the carefully placed pile of books on his desk, he sits down on his bed.

"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", Hyunjin sighs with a pout and brushes his hair out of his eyes. He knows the camera won't see it though because he's made sure the stand, his pile of books, is at a level that cuts off his head perfectly.

Hyunjins hands run down his body slowly and he exhales deeply, just loud enough to get picked up by his phone. Once they reach his jeans he unbuttons them, unzips the zipper, then pulls the jeans down just enough to expose his underwear. Hyunjin pulls his shirt up over his stomach to be held in place under his chin, rubs his hand over his bulge and hums.

It's been so long since the last time he's been able to take his time making himself feel good. It's almost embarrassing how quickly he's getting hard.

He takes his dick out his boxers and then spits on the palm of his right hand. It's dirty and wet but it just turns him on even more. He grabs his dick with the hand and slowly moves his fist up and down, to spread the saliva and precum all over his dick to make the slide easier and wetter but to also get himself to full hardness.

"A-ah, ohh... that's so good... Feels-fuck, feels so good", Hyunjin sighs. It really won't take him too long to cum, he just knows it. He's been pent up for far too long.

He tries to think of something to help his issue and immediately thinks of you, no matter how embarrassed or dirty it makes him feel.

When you first started showing up in the dirtiest corners of his mind he felt so ashamed. Now it doesn't matter to him anymore. You'll never find out so why feel bad?

He continues to move his hand on his dick while thinking of you. The last time the two of you had time to hang out together you'd worn the lowest cut shirt he'd ever seen on you. He had tried so hard to act normal around you but whenever you bent down he'd been able to see into your shirt.

"Haah, fuck..." , he squeezes himself a little harder at the memory. Everytime you moved he could see your bra poking out from the top, black and lacy. The entire time he'd been doing his best to not bust in his pants. Oh, what he'd give to be able to see your tits. They always looked so soft and they'd probably fit perfectly into his palms.

Whenever the both of you would hang out at yours, watching movies and just hanging out, you never bothered to wear a bra. Why would you? It is your house where you want to be as comfortable as possible.

The feeling of laying down on your couch watching a movie with you on top of him, in just a t-shirt, will end up driving him mad one day. Everytime he'd felt your nipples poking into him he'd almost moaned out loud.

"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!", he lets out pathetically, moving his fist faster. God he just wants you to use him, to do anything you want to him. The thought makes him whine desperately.

One of the most common fantasies for him is you on top of him using him to get off, not caring about if he's close or not. You'd sit on his face and ride it until you cum. He could probably cum untouched like that. All he'd need was tasting you and seeing you cum, just for him.

All the sudden he remembers the phone recording him and he shudders. He imagines what your reaction would be to seeing him like this. Would you be disgusted or delighted? Would you tell him what to do and how to touch himself? Maybe you'd touch him... He hopes you would.

"Mommy... please touch me, aah- oh!", he runs his thumb over the head of his cock just right and his thighs twitch but he keeps them open, in perfect view to the camera.

Throwing his head back he imagines you riding him. You'd be so tight and wet around him. Maybe you'd tie his hands behind his back so he wouldn't be able to touch you... he'd really like that. You'd feel godly around him, Hyunjin thinks.

"Fuck, oh fuck! Mommy I'm-haah, I'm so close, please!", his dick twitches desperately. You're so gorgeous, to him you're the sexiest person he's ever seen. He feels himself getting so close that tears spring to his eyes.

"Ah- 'm gonna... mommy, gonna cum...!", he whines out long and loud. It takes Hyunjin two more strokes to let go and he cums the hardest he's cum in weeks. He doesn't even register whispering your name. Hyunjin leans back on his left hand and keeps stroking himself through it.

The feeling is overwhelming, so much so that his thighs start twitching pathetically and the tears in the corners of his eyes fall. He's getting incredibly overstimulated but he keeps going, wanting to keep enjoying the feeling, just a bit more.

He squeezes himself one last time and suddenly everything on him feels gross and dirty. He's just had the best orgasm in weeks so it's no surprise that he came a lot, everywhere. He even managed to get some on his chin.

"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone. It takes a while for him to come down from the high, the twitchiness and the feeling of euphoria lingering in his body. Once he's capable of standing up again he stops the video.

With his body feeling like jelly, he takes off all his clothes, drops them into his hamper and prepares to shower, at last.

Hyunjin wakes up to his alarm the next day feeling more refreshed than he's felt in weeks. He shuts off the still ringing alarm and quickly gets up from his bed to get dressed and go eat breakfast.

Checking the calendar on his phone to make sure he knows his schedule for today, he makes a note of one thing; he'd have a lot of time alone at the dorms today too, since he's only got a dance practice and a recording session today, which obviously means 3racha will stay behind to stress about their songs while Hyunjin can return early. Maybe this time he should continue the latest piece of art he's been working on after he gets back?

Hyunjin gets through the day well enough.

After eating breakfast he messages you a "Good morning pretty <3 please remember to drink water!" like every morning when he has time for it. He gets to the practice room only five minutes late, which is a record this early in the morning, because usually he ends up sleeping in at least ten minutes (which makes Chan scold him for being such a heavy sleeper).

He does well at practice, even though he ends up a little exhausted. That's nothing new though, with how hard they always work to be the best they can be.

The rest of the members leave to take a break but Hyunjin decides to stay behind to film the solo choreography he's been working on for fun. Once he's happy with how it's turned out, it's time for him to go record his lines.

The recording session goes smoothly, without hundreds of retakes and everyone's satisfied with the result. Afterwards they decide to order some take-out, as a reward for a job well done... and also because they're all feeling too lazy to even think about going to the dorms to cook.

While eating Hyunjin finally realises to check his phone again. "Good morning, take care of yourself too!! :)" is your response to what he sent earlier. It's nothing more than a kind response but it makes him grin to himself like the fool in love he is.

"Yaaah!! Hyunjinnieee, what's making you smile so beautifully?", Changbin leans towards him with his signature flirting-with-Hyunjin grin, mouth half full of rice.

"It's nothing," Hyunjin responds back to him cheeks red, "and don't talk with your mouth full hyung... Do you not have any respect?"

Changbin decides to drop it in favor of eating more delicious food.

"Oh come on... we wanna know!!", Han pouts at him from his seat on the couch in the room. Hyunjin shoves another mouthful of food in his mouth to avoid the embarrassement of explaining how a single text messaged from you manages to make his heart beat out of his chest.

Once Hyunjin's done eating he's free to go back to the dorms and just like he suspected the rest of his dormmates stay behind to work some more, although they all whine at him to stay to explain the previous mystery. He declines and they all keep their sad puppydog eyes on him until he's out the door.

He keeps texting you during his ride, all the way to the dorms. Once he's in his room Hyunjin decides to just change into some clean clothes. He's too excited to talk to you and get to painting, he can wash up later.

He lays in his bed to keep texting you and at some point your conversation changes from how your day's been going to talking about dancing and he mentions how he just today filmed a new choreography bit he's made for fun.

❣️:

Can I see what you've been working on? :)

I'm sure it's really good, you always are!!

Jinnie:

Well... since you asked so nicely😉

[video sent]

Quickly sending the video Hyunjin exits out the messaging app, feeling so giddy he can't help but squirm around on his bed. He still can't believe someone like you could be interested in seeing him dance.

It might seem like a small thing for most but he feels himself turning red just thinking about the way you look at him while he talks about something so important to him. It makes the butterflies in his stomach every time you're near go crazy. It's so attentive, like you actually care and are interested in his interests... and maybe even...?

'No' , he thinks to himself. There's probably no way you could ever actually be interested in him, not in the same way he's interested in you at least.

He leaves his phone charging and finally gets out of bed to go to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He'd need it if he wanted to stay up late to work on his newest art piece.

Hearing the familiar 'ping' notification of receiving a message makes you open your phone again and just like you thought, Hyunjin had sent you the video of his latest masterpiece of a choreography. Not waiting a second you press the video just to see.... Hyunjin take his hand off the camera and set the phone down on the desk in his room he draws on. He sits down on the edge of his bed and says something, you aren't really sure what, because the volume's too low. In confusion you turn it up more.

Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair out his face, probably. You can't see it though, because the camera cuts his face perfectly off frame. Suddenly his hands run down his body to the button on his jeans. He opens it and starts undoing the zipper next. You just look at the video in shock. 'He isn't about to... to take them off is he?', you think to yourself, just as he pulls the jeans down enough to expose his white boxers and then palms his bulge.

Should you stop watching? Keep watching? How long has it even been playing? How long does it keep playing? While you wonder this you almost miss Hyunjin pull his hard dick out of his underwear and spit on his palm and... Oh God...

You've now done something you can never take back. The downright sinful view of his cock is something you don't think you're ever going to be able to forget. How do you even face him after this? After watching him grasp his dick in his hand and pump it a couple of times to spread the spit and precum around.

You exit the video, panting and absolutely soaking through your underwear. Your other hand rushes to your face to feel your cheeks. They're burning and feel like you've been standing out in the sun for hours, when in reality all you've done is accidentally watch your best friend play with himself.

You struggle to decide what to do with the video and in the end save the video without much thinking, then delete the message of it and decide to notify him of his mistake. As long as he doesn't know you saved it, it should be fine, right?

It takes Hyunjin less than 10 minutes to make and get the coffee. He returns to his room humming the tune of a song he's had on repeat recently. Setting the coffee down on the desk and taking his phone off from the charger he notices new messages from you.

❣️:

Uhm...😕

Hyunjin, I don't think you meant to send that.

He looks at his screen confused. What did you mean by that? He...

Oh God.

Did he send the wrong video?

Frantically opening the video he sent earlier he sees himself, in video, move his hand off the phone camera and set it down the desk near his bed and sit down. Oh no...

"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", video Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair from his eyes. His head may be out of frame but he clearly remembers pouting while saying this. He watches himself slowly unbutton and unzip his pants, adjusting them so that his boxers are clearly visible in frame. In the video his hand drifts towards his crotch slowly, teasingly.

He quickly exits the video and promptly shoves his head under his pillow and yells. He'd accidentally sent the wrong video while hurrying to get a cup of coffee. How could he have messed up this bad? In his panic, it takes him a moment to respond.

Jinnie:

Oh god

I'm so sorry!!

Please don't watch that!

❣️:

Don't worry!!!

I stopped watching the moment you started unzipping your pants😖

I saw nothing, promise!🙏 It's been deleted already!! 

Little does he know though, you'd kept the video. You're not really sure why, but subconciously your brain keeps screaming' to finish it later, of course'.

...

Fuck it, you don't think you can wait until later.

Taking a deep breath, you open your gallery to find the video he sent you. You hesitate for a second but press play anyway. You can feel how you're already soaking through your underwear but pay no mind to it yet.

You watch him do the things you've seen already, all the way until he spits in his hand... and you pause the video. 'Is it right to watch this? I mean, he didn't mean to even send it...', you think to yourself.

But the thought of seeing him touch himself, to hear him make the sweetest noises you could ever in your wildest dreams imagine him making drives you on.

Pressing play again you dip your fingers into your pants. You rub yourself over your underwear and oh my god... you can't believe the wetness you feel after less than a minute of watching the video. You focus on the phone you're holding in your other hand and finally move your fingers into your underwear to directly touch your pussy.

On your screen you see Hyunjin start to stroke himself faster, the head of his dick a dark pink, you can feel his desperation through the screen. Without thinking you move your fingers to your clit and start rubbing it in circles, aided by the wetness of your leaking pussy.

He moans out loud and even though you can't hear it through the fog in your head, you know he's desperate. You move your fingers down to your hole and dip two of them in. You're so wet you barely need to even stretch yourself out and then he does it.

"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!"

You push your fingers deeper and your pussy lets out he lewdest squelch which in turn makes you close your eyes desperately in pleasure. 'Mommy? When he masturbates he calls out for mommy??', the thought makes you lose your mind. You think about what it would be like if he called you mommy in the throes of pleasure.

You want to make him follow every command you give him. The way he'd look up at you on his knees with you standing above him. Maybe you could make him suck on a strap? He'd look so ridiculously delicious with his mouth full, drool dripping down his cheeks.

You add another finger and start rubbing at your clit with your thumb at the same time. The feeling makes you whimper and imagine his hands on you, teaching him how to touch you perfectly. You're getting so close and you remember to focus your screen again.

Hyunjin looks absolutely disheveled. His dick is red and throbbing, you can tell he's getting close. His voice is another thing that gives him away. He's whiny and his voice keeps cracking every time he opens his mouth. Hyunjin bucks into his hand and moans.

"... mommy, gonna cum...!", he strokes himself twice more and then finally cums. You're so close it's maddening. All the sudden you hear him... whisper your name?

It makes you go off the edge and your entire body clenches and seizes while you silently cry out from all the pleasure you're feeling. Your walls suck in your fingers with how you're clenching around them. On the screen Hyunjin twitches violently, working himself through the end of his orgasm.

You pull your fingers out of yourself and slump down on your bed exhausted, but the last 20 seconds of the video that's now over haunts you. Did you hear him right?

You gather strength to pick up your phone again and rewind the video to the part where he cums and turn the volume almost all the way up. Admittedly you end up fixating on the way his dick looks and face twists in pleasure when he cums and then he says, or more like whisper your name. Your brain blanks.

"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone, sits in place for a bit to properly come down and then gets up to stop the video.

You're wet, confused and you can feel your heart beat out of your chest. What do you do now? How can you ever face him normally after that... Does he feel the same way you do? Is he sure he didn't mean to send it?

It's all too much to think about, so you decide that instead of thinking about it you'll clean yourself up and... crawl into a hole where no one will ever find you. Probably. The only thing you know for sure is you definitely won't be sleeping tonight.

© lollixp0p 2024 | please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works

[prettygiri222]

okay but imagine eren seen a video of his baby momma at the club singin sexy redd’s “ FUCK MY BABYDADDY ” 😭😭 he just brings their son or daughter to reader’s mom and goes back to reader’s house and tears them TF upppp.

i can just hear him saying “ fuck yo baby who?? oh aight. ”

I had to add rapper!Eren to this cause it's something I always wanted to write😋

Eren x Black Fem Reader, PLOT + SMUT

rapper Eren Yeager's longtime girlfriend of six years broke up with him after having his first child, Duke Yeager. Eren shared a post on instagram confirming their breakup but stated that the both of them remain in Duke’s life as co-parents. the reason why was unreleased so fans speculated that Eren must’ve cheated because why else would you willingly break up with the famous rapper. his management released a statement saying it was due to conflicting schedules but it was seen as damage control so no one believed it.

during the six years of the relationship, his management managed to keep your face out of the media. but with the way Eren was constantly posting snippets of you, fans soon discovered who you were after matching physical features, traits and location that were found on his story with the ones present on your small instagram.

you two quickly became the it couple, how the girl from nowhere pulled a famous rapper gave fans hope because they saw them reflected in you. a woman who didn’t have to undergo multiple surgeries to pull the industry's finest. but after the breakup, that image fell.

his management did their best to keep things under wraps to keep the media from tormenting you but it didn’t work. when you posted a picture of yourself postpartum your dms filled with hateful comments wondering why Eren had gotten with you in the first place. you knew it was just jealous fangirls but it still got to you, especially since you weren’t all that confident in your new body and still recovering from your pregnancy. your accounts went silent shortly after.

although the breakup was mutual, the reason why was deeper than scheduling conflicts. you needed someone who was able to be there physically, emotionally and mentally. it was hard for Eren to provide that due to his career path, always travelling the world with a packed schedule. you guys did your best to make it work but after Duke came into the world you just couldn’t handle it anymore. 

Eren was a decent baby daddy and you guys co-parented well. you had full custody of him but when Eren was in town and would have time off you would send Duke over to him. Duke loved his daddy, always wanting to watch his concerts and interviews on the TV when he wasn’t there or free to facetime. Eren always made sure to send double what was asked for in child support to make sure you took care of yourself as well as his son.

that’s why when you reposted your friend’s story of you in the club all hell broke loose. people took it as a diss to your baby daddy, which it was, but not in the way they thought.

earlier that week you had dropped Duke off at Eren’s mansion. he had just flown back in from his world tour and finally had a few weeks off. despite being exhausted he called you up and asked if you could bring Duke over, wanting to spend as much time with his son as possible during his break. he sent over an uber black to pick the two of you up.

when Eren met you two at the door, Duke jumped into his arms smiling and giggling. it’s been a while since he’s seen his daddy in person. the sight made you awe. Eren turned to you and asked if you wanted to stay over so he could spend time with the two most important people in his life but sadly you declined. you didn’t want to interrupt their father and son bonding time.

Duke was almost a clone of Eren, he had his sharp green eyes, german nose and face shape. the only hints of you in him were his full lips, darker skin and coils. Duke was your little bundle of joy but he could be a handful at times. during the few times those two got to spend together Eren spoiled him rotten, whatever he wanted he got and it showed. whenever you told him no he would throw a tantrum saying how he wanted his daddy. you knew you were a good mother but hearing him say that when you were the one who took care of him every day hurt.

---

it was a friday night and Eren was at his crib chilling with Duke. he had his phone on do now disturb so his time with his family wouldn’t be interrupted. it was a shame you weren’t here to spend time with them. after having pizza, soda and ice cream for dinner the boys passed out on the couch after staying up past midnight watching movies. 

his peace was soon interrupted by the constant buzz of his phone. it roused him from his sleep but Duke slept through it. after the third ring, he finally answered the phone. he was pissed that his manager was calling him knowing it was his time off but he figured it must be important for them to use emergency bypass to call.

“what’s going on?” his voice gruff from his slumber and irritation. he turned on his phone to see it flooded with notifications from instagram, snapchat, tiktok, twitter, messages, missed calls from his friends and one from his mom and his heart dropped to his stomach. he hadn't dropped anything new recently so he knew whatever was happening had to be bad.

“well… it’s about your baby mama… she uh…” his manager was at a loss for words. he didn't know the words to describe the situation to make it not seem as bad as the media was already making it out to be. he knew Eren would be pissed when he found out what happened and they didn't want to be on the end of it. 

Eren was extremely protective of his family and friends. when he saw the hate you were receiving after you posted a picture of yourself postpartum he took to twitter immediately. he did not play when it came to you, together or not together. you were the mother of his child and you needed your respect. so he was wondering why you were playing in his face like this.

“well what is it?” he snapped, already losing his patience. “is she ok? is she hurt?” he shot upright from his resting position on the couch. he opened up the group chat between him, Armin, Connie, Onyankopon and Jean first. all that was sent was a blurry video followed by a bunch of skull and grave emojis.

he opened the video and immediately recognized the faces of a few of the girls in it as a few of your friends, Sasha, Mikasa and Historia at a club. Sasha, Connie’s model girlfriend was the one to record them singing along to a sexyy red song. he wondered what the video had to do with him until it panned to you. you stood out with your brightly dyed red hair styled in a what he recognized as a wash-and-go.

“fuck my baby daddy! fuck my baby daddy! fuck my baby daddy!” you were shouting the lyrics a little bit too passionately. you had your middle fingers stuck up to the camera showing off your glittery red acrylic nails. you were clearly wasted, drunk off of whatever drinks Sasha managed to shove down your throat.

“yes bitch!” your friends shouted as you turned around to shake your ass sticking out your tongue. you were wearing a ripped mesh dress. one of your friends reached out to pull down the back of your dress to prevent your ass from showing but the dress was already leaving very little to the imagination. the pregnancy did your body good, you were a bit on the skinny side before but now your hips had filled out, your ass and boobs swole and your skin finally cleared up. you were glowing.

“I’m a fine ass bitch, I ain’t in the in the house sad!” you were feeling yourself. it felt nice to get out of the house and away from Duke no matter how much you loved him. having to take care of a baby by yourself was tiring, no matter how much Eren supported you from afar you needed him there with you.

your friends were hyping you up and your mind grew hazy from both the alcohol and adrenaline. you were far too gone to realize what you said when you yelled “fuck Eren!” instead of the actual lyrics. the camera quickly panned to the floor before the video stopped.

Eren had to replay the video countless times to process what he had seen and heard. but he couldn’t believe it was you. never in the eight years he’s known you have you ever picked up the phone to send a dig at him through social media. no matter how tough the going got, it’s what he respected about you. you always wanted to talk problems through and try to make it work. Eren clenched his fist looking at you now.

Eren knows how baby mamas like you are seen and treated in the industry. he’s seen how they're constantly bashed and embarrassed by the fathers of their children and the media. Eren never wanted that for you, he wanted to give you a ring before he gave you a baby but accidents happen and here you both were. instead of calling him or stopping by to talk you wanted to show out for the fans and diss him. it was stupid of you, he knew you were better than this.

“so it’s “fuck Eren” is that right,” Eren laughed to himself throwing his head back on the couch. sure he couldn’t be there for you and Duke all the time like he wanted but at least he tried. he was a very busy man. but he did what he had to to make sure his mother, Duke and you could have a nice and cozy life. where Duke didn’t have to worry about if he was going to eat dinner that night. “bet.”

“sorry little man but I have to go get your mommy. you’re going to go to stay with your grandma tonight, ok?” he cooed to Duke, waking him up. Duke slowly woke up and was trying to rub the sleep out of his eye. Eren loved his son very much he was the reason he kept this stressful life up. 

he enjoyed making music and performing but not during the days when he slept in the studio trying to find the perfect lyrics and beat or days where he hardly slept because he had to stay on his feet. it was a fast life and if he couldn’t keep up it would all come crashing down. and for you to make a dig at that knowing how he felt was fucked.

“Eren Yeager!” his manager shouted through the phone overhearing the whole thing. he needed Eren to keep a calm head and not do anything rash tonight. he didn’t need him sparking more outrage in the media or doing something that could potentially ruin the relationship you two had. “what are you going to do?”

“what else, I’m going to go fuck my baby mama,” before his manager could get another word out he hung up the phone. 

“daddy said a bad word!”

“...don’t tell your mom and I’ll bring you to the studio with me.”

---

you wobbled into your apartment with a sheepish grin. it felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulder tonight. it’s been a while since you went to the club and got so drunk that the world became a blur. you were slowly regaining memories of what happened that night and you couldn’t help but cringe knowing you would regret some of them in the morning. your phone died on your way home after you reposted Sasha’s story so you were oblivious to the buzz you had created.

when you went to unlock your door you found out that it was already open. you raised your brow but you brushed it off thinking you must’ve forgotten to lock it in your rush to leave the house. you knew the security for your building was tight, it was the main thing you were looking for when you were buying your apartment. it was a necessity since Duke was the son of a successful rapper. 

when you and Eren had split you bought yourself a nice little two-bedroom apartment deep in the city. Eren offered to pay for it but you immediately declined, you didn’t want anything else of yours to get attached to him. during your relationship you saved up a lot of money since Eren had always offered to buy you whatever you wanted and spoiled you rotten just like he was doing with Duke. he fueled your shopping addiction only wanting his girlfriend to have the best of the best.

you had a little side hustle as an occasional hairstylist and nail artist for your friends and family with the occasional new client. Eren told you time and time again you didn’t need to work and that he would take care of everything. but you liked having your own source of income it made you feel independent plus you enjoyed your job.

being able to close on your dream apartment was a dream come true and it left you feeling satisfied. you loved how everything was within walking distance, there was a daycare down the street along with an elementary school for when Duke got older. there was a grocery store right around the corner with a few outlets and public transit ran just outside the building, it was perfect for a single mother like you. 

“thought we were doing good with this co-parenting shit mama?” the second you opened the door you were greeted by a voice you knew better than your own. goosebumps covered your arms, ‘why is he here’ you thought.

“Eren?” you called out into the dark apartment. you felt the wall closest to the door for the switch and turned the light on. and there he was, Eren, your famous baby daddy. he turned his head to look at you from where he was seated on the couch. his eyes were extremely low, watching your every move. “are you ok? where's Duke?”

“with your mom,” Eren was having such a pleasant high, he felt so relaxed and calm in the dark room. he didn’t have the TV on and was just staring at the black screen. but the second the room lit up and you walked through the door with that tiny see-through dress on it dispersed. he narrowed his eyes down at you and you could tell you had just blown his high. his anger simmering underneath his calm demeanour. 

“how’d you even get in?” you never gave Eren the key to your apartment. having already been split and you always dropped Duke off at his place there was no reason for him to have one.

“front desk gave me a key after I flashed a couple of stacks,” he replied nonchalantly, like it wasn’t a crime on both parts. you rolled your eyes, this was how Eren fixed all his problems, with money. you get that when he was growing up it was something he didn’t have but now that he had it was like all he knew how to do was throw it at people to make his problems disappear.

“well if Duke isn’t here then there’s no reason for you to be,” you don’t know what you did to warrant this visit but you didn’t want to be in his presence any longer. you liked to keep your contact with Eren as minimal as possible. plus you didn’t have the energy to deal with him tonight, you were tired. hoping he would get the hint it was time to leave you walked away and headed towards your bedroom, “please see yourself out. we can talk another day.”

“nah, 'cause it’s “fuck Eren” right?” he got up from the couch and followed you down the hall and into your room. the wooden floor creaking under his weight. you didn’t have to turn around to know he was towering over you, you could feel him breathing down your neck. you tried to move away from him but he gripped your waist with a firm grip underneath and pulled you against him. “you must’ve gone crazy going so long with my dick huh? that must be it, acting like you lost your damn mind.”

“Eren!” you pulled away to look back at him in shock. “what are you even talking about?”

“don’t play dumb with me mama, your ass is all over the shade room talking about “fuck my baby daddy” ” he took his phone out of his pocket to show you their newest post. it was a screenshot of a video but it was clearly you, it was the same outfit and hairstyle you had on right now. you swiped the image on his phone in disbelief and the video played, “fuck Eren! fuck my baby daddy! fuck my baby daddy!”

“oh my gosh! Eren, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, I was drunk and got carried away,” you looked up at him from the phone. you could tell he was pissed, his eyes darkened after hearing what you said in the video for the hundredth time. you were horrified, you didn’t mean to air out your personal problems and make Eren seem like a bad father. you knew how the public blew things out of proportion.

“they say drunk words are sober thoughts,” Eren stated, shrugging his shoulders. “I know Duke be stressing you out ma, let me fix it,” he stared down at you with a little smirk. he licked his lips, obviously checking you out. it's been a while since he's seen your body exposed, you always show up to drop Duke off in oversized sweaters and shirts. just looking at you like this made his dick hard, “plus you owe me an apology.”

that’s how you found yourself face down ass up in your bedroom with the man you’d never thought would step foot in your new apartment. Eren was behind you standing at the edge of the bed, his black and grey nike tech sweater was thrown somewhere in your room leaving him in a white wife beater and his golden cuban link chain. his grey sweats were down so that just his dick was out.

“mm fuck Eren! please,” you cried out. no matter how deeply you arched or angled your hips you couldn’t get him to reach where you needed him the most. he knew that but he loved watching you struggle and the way your brown cheeks jiggled after coming into contact with his pelvis. you were a sight to see, one that he deeply missed.

“you can do better than that mama,” he raised his pierced brow watching you. Eren stood completely still behind you, you had your face buried in the sheets as you attempted to throw it back on him. you were still dressed in your mesh dress but he ripped your thong off. “I saw you in that video. you were shaking that shit so c’mon, fuck me back ma.”

your makeup was staining your sheets but you could care less right now. the feeling of Eren stretching out your practically virginal walls was dumbfounding. he didn’t bother to stretch you out believing that your body was already moulded to his shape. but it’s been about two years since you last had sex. your tight walls were struggling to accommodate his humongous size.

“ ’m trying,” the lack of stimulation on your sweet spots had you in tears. the stretch was pleasurable but it wasn’t enough, paired with the shallow thrusts. you so desperately craved more so you reached in between your legs to play with your clit. Eren groaned at the sight of you touching yourself, not to mention you began to clench around him. 

“damn ma, now that’s what I’m talking about,” Eren gave your ass a harsh slap. you let out a little whine as you lost your rhythm because of it. but you soon found it again. your wetness was soaking his dick and you were basically twerking on his dick. Eren loved every second of it. 

he took one of your ass cheeks and pulled it to the side with his tattooed hand, he watched himself go in and out of your brown folds. feeling the unsteady approach of his orgasm watching as you struggled to fuck yourself on him he decided to finally grant you mercy. he languidly began to thrust into you. “go ahead and nut on this dick mama.”

 “o-okay” you stuttered out. you struggled to concentrate on stimulating your sensitive clit while bouncing back to meet Eren’s lazy thrusts. your fingers were covered in your own wetness while you rubbed little circles on your bud. each loop paired with the tip of his dick pressing against that spongy spot inside you brought you ever closer to your climax. “ ‘m so close!”

“let it out for me baby,” the pace became erratic, you guys’ release at its peak. sometimes his dick collided straight into your soft spot and sometimes it completely missed. but the feeling of him pummeling in and out of you had you convulsing around his dick. “keep squeezing around me like that and I'll put another baby in you, fuck.”

you let out broken whines as you struggled to continuously stimulate your bud. you were soaking wet that your fingers slipped around. “‘ren! ren!” you chanted, reaching out toward him with your slick-covered hand. Eren grabbed it and put it in his mouth. groaning deeply as he licked and sucked on your coated digits.

“don’t worry mama, I got you. let it out for me,” Eren leaned over your arched form and whispered in your ear. his husky sending shivers down your spine as he talked you through it. you listened to him feeling the wave of pleasure overwhelm you, the sensation in your stomach bursting.

“f-fuck, fuck!”

“shit,” when he felt himself about to burst he pulled out of your pussy's compelling grasp. he watched the lewd scene in front of him and used it to jerk off. he groaned out stroking his soaking dick. your pussy hole remained gaping after he pulled out and your liquids were spilling on your sheets. after a few strokes, he released all over your back onto your mesh dress staining it.

you plopped down onto your empty bed exhausted. the room filled with the sound of laboured breathing as you guys tried to catch your breath. the sound of Eren shuffling around could be heard soon after. your heart ached at the thought of him leaving you so soon but you closed your eyes, ‘it’s for the better’ you thought. you wanted a few moments of rest before you went to wash up.

but Eren wasn’t finished yet, he was shedding the remaining articles of his clothing leaving him naked. your eyes opened feeling the bed dip under the extra weight. before you could protest, Eren had already climbed on top of you, grabbing your legs and having them pushed over your head, “we’re not finished yet.”

this time Eren took the lead, he had ripped off your dress leaving you completely naked and exposed to his eyes. he had you folded over like a pretzel leaving you open for him. your legs were bent so far over your head you could see the top of your pussy and watch as Eren thrusted in and out of your overstimulated hole from above. the pleasure made you want to slither away but Eren’s strong hold kept you still.

“E-eren!” you were losing your mind from the stimulation. “too much! it’s too much!” you cried out. you reached out to push against his rock-hard abdomen. you didn’t want him to stop, not when you were so close to your second orgasm of the night but it was too much. he was being so rough with you. you didn’t think you had it in you after motherhood to be manhandled like this.

“nah, you can take it. you’re a big girl now, dissing me at the club with your friends. be glad I’m even fucking you since I’m such a “bad baby daddy.” Eren mocked you from above. he didn’t even flinch as you tried to push him away. he smiled down at you watching how easily you got fucked out. moans were no longer coming out your mouth, more like strangled sobs and whines that were being forced out after each deep thrust of his. the head of his dick battering your insides and abusing your soft spot left you tremoring underneath him.

“imsorryimsorry,” you babbled out. your mascara and eyeliner were running down your cheeks and your lipstick was smothered but you couldn’t look any prettier to Eren. he enjoyed watching as your tits bounce around. he brought his forest green eyes back up to you watching as you bit your quivering lip.

“how’d that song go again?” Eren sarcastically asked. with the number of times he replayed that video he had the lyrics, beat and rhythm all memorized. “something like this right?” pap! pap! pap! Eren changed the rhythm of his thrusts, the sound of his balls clapping against your ass and the squelching sounds of your pussy mimicked the bow bow bow of the song. he angled each thrust to deliver a particularly harsh hit to your g-spot.

without warning an intense feeling of pleasure erupted in your stomach. “imcuming!” you cried out. you could feel a liquid flow out from your pussy, completely drenching Eren’s dick. he quickly pulled out to watch you squirt, a sight he immensely missed. the translucent liquid gushed out of your hole soaking the sheets as well.

“you said fuck your baby who?” Eren smiled down at your fucked out face. you couldn’t even answer him with the overwhelming pleasure rendering all of your senses useless. your head was thrown back and your face furrowed, coming down from the high of your intense orgasm. “oh aight.”

I think I got a bit carried away🤭

[antiquarianfics]

Therapy

Sometimes all a person needs is a little reassurance they’re not a bad person.

A/N: I’m rewatching TFATWS and the therapy scene broke me tbh. Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader Warnings: None. Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to repost or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, or reblog.

—

“And if he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me!”

Bucky’s words make you tense, and you feel your heart clench. Your eyes shoot from Bucky, to Sam, to Raynor. Neither Sam nor Raynor seem as affected by Bucky’s words as you. You suppose, however, his therapist would only see Bucky’s confession as a breakthrough, and his friend, in his anger, would only see it as selfish.

Bucky seems to realize he admitted something not only to the room, but to himself. It was clearly not his plan to share such a thought, and it was clearly a thought he didn’t want to admit to himself.

—

Later, when Sam, Bucky, and yourself are sitting on a plane, headed to meet with Zemo (against your protests), you finally bring up the impromptu therapy session with Bucky.

“Sweetheart?” You say, pulling Bucky’s attention from a random spot on the wall he’s staring at to you.

The hardened expression on Bucky’s face melts away as he looks at you.

“Doll?” He responds, mimicking your same questioning tone.

You bite your lip anxiously before leaning forward and planting a kiss on his lips. The kiss takes him slightly off guard, but he happily returns it. The kiss takes you slightly off guard, too, because you kissed him to buy yourself some time to figure out what you want to say. After a second, you pull away, anxiously biting your lip again.

“What was that for?” Bucky asks, a goofy smile gracing his lips.

“Uh…” you trail off. “A distraction?”

“A distraction?”

“Uh, yeah. I needed to distract you while I figured out what to say.”

He shoots you a questioning look, but you continue before he can say anything.

“What you said earlier, to Sam,” you start, voice unsure.

Bucky sighs and leans back in his seat, closing his eyes.

“Y/N,” he says, a pleading tone lacing each syllable of your name. He doesn’t want to talk about this.

“Bucky,” you argue, “I just… I just want you to be okay. Do you really think that? That Steve was wrong about you?” The thought upsets you, and you can tell he knows it.

“Wasn’t he?”

“No.”

“Doll.”

“James.”

He meets your eyes and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Steve trusted Sam with his shield—with his legacy. Steve was a better person than all of us. If… if he was wrong about Sam, then he was wrong about me.”

“First of all, Steve was just a man. He wasn’t a god, and we need to stop talking about him like he was. He was a really good man, yes, but just a man. His opinion on any one person or any one situation is not inherently the right one. Second of all, that’s a logical fallacy and you know it. Steve gave Sam the shield because he believed he would do with it what was right. Sam did exactly what he thought was right. You have to stop blaming him for that. Third of all, Steve wasn’t wrong about you. If he was, Buck, you’d be in prison, but he wasn’t and you’re not. You’re here, with me, with Sam, and you’re trying to make the world a better place.”

Bucky stares at you. You’re so adamant, and it scares him. He knows you’re right, but even if you weren’t, he thinks he’d believe you simply because you’re so sure of yourself. He swallows.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

You sigh in relief that he’s at least agreeing with you.

“Y/N?” He asks. You hum in response.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

[sweetlummie]

Incoming Call…

Tysm to my sweetest heart @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for making this AMAZING mood board!

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Joel Miller x fem!plus size!reader

A/n: I’m back! I took a break from writing to focus on college classes. Just taking one last class before I get my associates! Big s/o to @romanarose for proofreading! Any dialogue in italics are text messages! This fic was made with game!joel and show!joel in mind! As always feel free to leave constructive criticism. Likes, comments, and reposts are appreciated 🫶🫶🫶💗

Warnings: cyber stalking, age gap (reader is in college), virgin!reader, if anything else pls lmk!

W/c: 1.3k+

* ・‥…━━━━━━━ *˖◛⁺♡ ━━━━━━━…‥・

Joel Miller. A rugged older man. He was so pretty in your eyes but the age difference between you both shattered any illusion you could have with him. So you admired from afar, bashfully smiling at him when he looked your way. You were neighbors so you saw each other quite a bit. He always was sure to greet you every time you were outside when he was. When you’d leave for classes, when you’d come back, when you’d go off to work, and when you’d go out with your friends. Joel always made sure to be around just to see your pretty face. Joel liked you, a lot. He wasn’t tech savvy but he knew his way around some social media platforms so he was able to find your Instagram quite easily and stalk you on there. He used your pictures as fap material.

“Oh sweet girl... such pretty eyes an’ lips...” he’d groan as he’d pump his throbbing, thick cock while looking at your most recent Instagram post. This was an everyday thing, looking at your profile and jerking off. He couldn’t even catch a glimpse of you in person without feeling his cock harden in his pants, unbeknownst to you.

One day you’re out in your front yard, watching your father work on your car. He saw you from the window and immediately went out, using the excuse to get his mail even though he had already gotten it earlier. He overheard your conversation with your father. Your dad would often talk sports to you, and even though you have no clue what he’s talking about you still liked to listen. You were a sweet girl like that. Joel cuts in and adds to the conversation. You try not to say much because you’re sure your high pitched voice would give away your nerves, but you couldn’t help it- he made you so nervous. Joel on the other hand took in your body. He eyed you up and down, from your breasts to your soft, fat stomach, and all the way down to your juicy thighs. His cock was already throbbing. He needed you.

The conversation between Joel and your father shifted into something you were into. Wrestling. You got excited and joined in the conversation. Joel, of course, after his stalking, knew you loved wrestling so he made sure to look into the topic, just for you. Eventually your father dropped the conversation but you still kept talking with Joel, your eyes sparkling as you spoke with such passion about the sport. Joel enjoyed this, he loved your eyes. He can’t help but think how cute you’d look with your lips around his cock, looking up at him with those same sparkly eyes.

After a bit, you both decided that the Texas sun was getting too much so you said your goodbyes to head inside. You paused for a moment, it couldn’t hurt to give Joel your Instagram. After all, he likes wrestling and you post a lot of wrestling videos on your story and you get a lot of memes too you’re sure he’d enjoy! So you look over at him before he goes inside. “Hey Joel?” You called out. He glanced over at you. “Yeah sweetheart?” He replied as he turned, walking back toward the fence. “Do you have Instagram?” You asked as you stepped forward. “Sure do, what for, sweet thing?” These nicknames were gonna be the end of you.. “I just wanted it so I can send you wrestling videos…” you say bashfully, he nods and you pull out your phone. He gives you his username and you follow him. You then said your farewells and went inside. 

You looked at his profile, he didn’t have any posts and on his bio it just had his age and “Texas” on it. You laughed to yourself, he was such an old man. You add him to your close friends. You wanna show yourself off to him. You posted selfies a lot, sometimes even showing your cleavage. You wanted to test the waters so you post a provocative picture of yourself on your close friends. Now you wait. See if he’ll take the bait.

Joel views your page again and sees extra posts and stories that he hasn’t had access to before. He looks at your story and sees the picture of you showing off your tits, he groans and pulls out his cock. He decides to risk it. He replies to the story. “You’re such a naughty thing sweetheart.” He sends. You receive the message, making you shoot up from your bed. Your face was hot and you can feel yourself getting wet.

“Guess I am, does that make you uncomfortable Mr. Miller?” You send back. 

When Joel gets the message he’s choking his cock with his big hand, moaning your name. “Not at all princess.. wish I could see more though..” it’s very risky but fuck it, he’s all in. 

When you receive the message you’ve already pulled off your pj shorts and panties, teasing your fat pussy, imagining Joel’s big hands on you instead. You moan and send him a voice memo, “maybe you can Joel… video chat is always an option..” you say in a sultry voice as the squelching of your wet pussy can be heard in the message as well. 

Joel almost passed out with how needy you sounded, he could’ve came right then and there. He hits the video chat icon and rings you up. You reply and are met with Joel, lazily stroking his big cock. You gasp, you’ve never seen one that big or thick before. 

He grins, “hey pretty girl.. touchin’ your sweet lil’ pussy thinkin’ of me?” He teases making you whimper, you nod and pan the camera down to show your wet pussy. He groans and speeds his hand up. “Touch yourself baby, make yourself cum on those pretty lil’ fingers.” You obey and rub your clit faster, moaning softly. “Good girl..” he praised. “Now insert a finger, I bet ya lil’ pussy feels empty, hm baby?” He commanded.

You shake your head. “Hurts when I try to put a finger in...” you tell him shyly. He pauses… no way you were a virgin. 

“Fuck baby... don’ say that... gonna make me shoot my load and I wanna enjoy this..” he pants.

“Sorry...” you apologize, feeling stupid. Of course he wouldn’t like that.. you were sure he wanted a woman with more experience… you stopped masturbating and pulled your hand away in embarrassment. 

“No no baby, keep goin’.. don’ apologize.. thas jus fine… jus means I’m gonna be the one to deflower ya ..” He’s quick to reassure you, so you perk up right, your pussy gushing again. 

“Yes sir...” you say, feeling better about your lack of experience and excited for Joel to be your first. “Now keep touchin, your pussy… an’ show me those pretty lil’ tits baby..” he orders. You smile and pull your tank top down, showing him your breasts. You touch yourself again, listening to him moan and the lewd sounds his cock was making and seeing how big he is and how beautiful he looks when he’s about to cum, pushes you over the edge. You press your thighs together trapping your hand as you moan out his name. He comes shortly after you, his cum shooting out and landing on his soft tummy. 

“Fuck baby doll… that was so good… how ‘bout we meet later and I can finally see that beautiful body of yours in action hm?” He proposes as he languidly strokes his now softening cock. 

“M’kay.. I’d like that..'' You smile at him as you bring the camera up to show him your sweet face and tits. 

“Good girl.. see ya then.” With that the call ends.. you’re over the moon right now, you can’t believe what just happened. Finally you had the man you’ve been craving.

* ・‥…━━━━━━━ *˖◛⁺♡ ━━━━━━━…‥・

[spockandawe]

Double edit: actually, that's enough of that.

Edit: I was expecting maybe thirty notes tops. This is a surprise, and one that doesn't delight me. If I hear about any harassment stemming from this post, I'll be more pissed at the harasser than the person this is about.

God. Dammit.

I hate this, let's just out that out there! I'm unhappy that I'm talking about any of this, I'm unhappy there's an issue that's come up at the intersection of media preservation, respecting authors, and one of my favorite book series. And I'm unhappy that I've censored the names in the screenshots I'm about ti post! I'm not happy that I'm helping to slide consequences away from someone who thought this was an acceptable thing to do to a modern working author. But I'm even less happy this is something that happened in the first place, and I'm VERY unhappy the original post has been deleted without a whisper of accountability or apology.

And here's a partial screenshot of the IA page, which has since been removed. I get the excitement to share something you love with a new audience. This isn't the right way to go about it.

First, if Martha Wells' patreon is still in place, I encourage everyone in the strongest possible terms to go sign up for it. It'll charge you one dollar. I've been a member since probably 2018, and I mistakenly believed it was locked to new members (it's labeled 'Currently Closed To New Patrons') until I had reason to look it up last night, when I tripped across this reddit post from earlier this year.

Now. I was looking it up because of this sudden patreon message:

Even if the patreon goes away, I still recommend that people sign up. Explore the stories! They're very fun! Even though the patreon has been dormant for years, I've loved having that repository in place.

In fact, in the interest of full disclosure, what kept me from immediately reblogging last night is that I've felt the same archival urges! I bound a hard copy of these stories earlier this year, and let me quote my own words from that post:

I live in a state of perpetual low key stress over the impermanence of digital media and that goes extra for sites that aren’t designed to work well as archives. I hope, desperately, that someday Martha Wells publishes more raksura, maybe even including these stories! I will buy it immediately. No thoughts, wallet empty. I own all her other raksura books in literally three formats, fingers crossed that by printing this, I can actualize a formal official printing of these stories by the author 😂

So. Archiving, yes. But especially with a living, working author, I would never DREAM of posting a public free-for-all with IA and mediafire links. My most charitable interpretation is that OP thought it was fine since the stories were "free," even though the writeups acknowledge that access costs a dollar. Ao3 is also free. Reposting someone else's fic is still understood to be a dick move.

Last night i was left kind of stunned, and I was hoping to see some kind of response from op this morning taking responsibility, and was... disappointed to see that the post was just deleted. The IA listing was deleted too, and I hadn't actually looked up the mediafire post yet but I'm guessing it's also been nuked. Out of curiosity, I wanted to see if there was anything more in the comments, so I found a surviving reblog. And there was!

So I'm writing this post because I'm... frustrated. Taking down the files is a good step. Posting them publicly was a worse step, but hey. I still more than understand if Martha Wells still deletes her patreon. I don't understand what sending her files of her own stories is meant to accomplish, but whatever. Ascribing a profit-driven motive is driving me up a wall, though. She's financially stable. I read her email, and what i see is frustration that even though it only cost a dollar to access 62k of her work through her own chosen location, control of her writing is being forcibly removed from her. I'm sure that seeing copies sold by third parties wouldn't help, but I don't think that's the root issue.

This is a fandom-heavy website, I'm sure most of us have seen posts about not reposting art when you can share directly from the artist's blog. I've seen posts about stop copying your ao3 faves over to wattpad just because you like reading there better. At a fundamental level, I read the message from Martha Wells as a deep frustration at having no way to share her creative work without someone removing control of it from her hands. And I don't know if there's any way to really take back that damage.

[writerslittlelibrary]

I promise I can explain

masterlist

pairing: Blackhill x reader, Wanda x reader

warnings: making out, sneaking around, yelling, one mention of a shitty foster family

genre: fluff, angst

words: 1432

a/n: two posts in one day? I must be losing my mind

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work 

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

Your mothers were supposed to be out for a mission for a few days. You didn’t expect them back until the end of the week. Apparently, the mission was way easier than expected, and that’s how you found yourself in this position, staring your mom in the eyes in pure shock. 

You and Wanda had always been great friends. When she joined the Avengers, you were closest in age. Wanda may have been a few years older, but you two got along wonderfully. Your moms were worried about you bonding with her, finding her a bit dangerous, but once they saw how happy your friendship made you, they couldn’t help but be happy for you too. 

You had been friends for about a year, and you realized you were starting to develop feelings for the witch. You were hanging out more, and having sleepovers at your home all the time.

Natasha and Maria were glad you had such a good friend, happy that you seemed to come out of your shell more. After one sleepover, everything changed. You and Wanda were watching a movie on your bed, and after a romantic scene, she had asked you if you had a crush on anyone. You told her yes, but refused to tell her who.

You had completely forgotten the fact that Wanda could read minds, so when you asked her if she had a crush on anyone, she simply leaned in to kiss you. 

That was your first kiss, and you two made it official a few days later. Because you were hanging out so much already, your moms didn’t bat an eye when you seemed to be out of the house more. 

You had walked out into the living room where your moms were sitting, hoping to ask a question without raising any suspicion. “Can I go watch a movie with Wanda tonight?” you asked them. Your moms looked at each other for a moment, before turning to you. “Of course. Do I need to drive you?” Natasha asked. You shook your head. 

“Wanda is driving us,” you told them, and they nodded. 

“Just don’t stay out too late,” Maria told you, and you smiled and nodded before walking off to your room to text Wanda.

You and Wanda did stay out a little too late that night. After the movie, you and Wanda had stayed in her car, and you were making out when you received a text from your moms. You didn’t notice it at first, but when they started calling, you and Wanda broke it off with a sigh.

You nearly had a heart attack when you saw the time, and Wanda drove you home quickly. You said goodbye to Wanda with a kiss, and quickly made your way up to the apartment. 

When you got inside, your moms were sitting on the couch. Both had a disappointed look in their eyes. You threw your bag down and started apologizing, saying how sorry you were and how you forgot the time. Your moms weren’t mad at you, just concerned, and you had gotten an earlier curfew after that night. 

A few weeks after that, your moms told you they had to go on a mission that would take about a week. They were sorry they both had to leave you at the same time, but you just told them that it was okay.

They apologized a few times, but the moment they were gone, you called Wanda over. You were on a school break for a few weeks and this was the perfect time to spend some time with Wanda. 

Of course you still had sleepovers, but it was nice to know you were free to spend time together without the risk of anyone interrupting. 

You were afraid to tell your moms of your relationship. You didn’t know how they’d take it. You knew they wouldn’t react badly to the fact you liked girls, but you never told them either. You never talked about boys or relationships, and you sure as hell never talked about crushes you had. Maria and Natasha simply believed you just weren’t into that yet, but boy were they wrong. 

It wasn’t very ideal either. Wanda had recently turned 19, yet you were still 16. You and Wanda never really talked about the age difference, because neither of you really cared. You joked about it once, how Wanda was technically doing something illegal by dating you, but since you’ve known each other while you were both teenagers, you never really thought about it. 

Your moms, however, would surely have a bad reaction to it. 

That’s why you were so terrified right now. You and Wanda had spent the day in bed, watching some shows and now, undeniably, making out.

You both missed the front door opening and closing, and missed the sound of footsteps coming to your bedroom. You didn’t miss the slight creak the door made when opening, however, and you quickly got off of Wanda to sit beside her, looking at your mom.

“What the hell is this supposed to be!” she yelled, making you flinch slightly. You hated disappointing your moms, and Natasha had always had a short temper.

“Is this why you’re always staying out too late?! Why you’re always having sleepovers?! Why the hell didn’t you tell me!” Natasha continued yelling, and you could hear Maria approaching your room as well.

You still hadn’t said anything, but Wanda made the subtle move to grab your hand tightly, letting you know she was still there.

Maria entered the room calmly, seeing you and Wanda on the bed and quickly making the connection. “Natasha, love, why are you yelling?” she asked softly, make a move to grab Natasha’s hand. Natasha turned to Maria.

“Our little girl is sneaking around, making out and doing god knows what with Wanda!” Natasha explained, pointing her hand at Wanda as to make her point more clear.

Maria sighed softly, glancing at your terrified form on the bed, and then turning back to Natasha. 

“Nat, love, I know you’re upset, but you need to take a breath. You’re scaring y/n,” Maria explained carefully, rubbing her thumb over Natasha’s hand to help her calm down. Natasha closed her eyes and sighed deeply, turning to you before walking out of your room.

Maria turned to you with a small smile, walking to you and giving you a soft kiss on your forehead. She cupped your cheeks, smiling softly at you. “I love you,” she told you, before kissing your forehead again and walking after Natasha.

You and Wanda stayed in your room for a few minutes, cuddling and trying to calm down. 

Natasha and Maria had adopted you when you were nine, and your previous foster family wasn’t as loving as a family is supposed to be. Yelling frightened you, and Wanda knew that. So did your moms, but you figured Natasha just couldn’t help herself.

After you calmed down a bit, you gave Wanda a kiss on her cheek and left your room, going to find Natasha and Maria in the living room. 

“I’m sorry,” you said as you walked in quietly. Natasha turned to you, and the look on her face simply broke you. She opened her arms, and you quickly sat down, leaning into her.

“I’m the one that has to be sorry. I should’ve never yelled. I’m so, so sorry,” Natasha told you, rubbing your back and kissing your head. “I love you, no matter what,” she told you. You lifted your head to look at her, and smiled at her. “I love you too,” you told her.

“So how long have you and Wanda been, y’know, a thing?” Maria asked, rubbing your back. “A few months… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t mean to keep anything from you. I just didn’t know how to tell you and I-” “You, did nothing wrong,” Natasha interrupted your rant, cupping your cheeks. “We love you, and while I’m sad you didn’t trust us enough to come to us, it was your decision, and no one is mad at you,” she explained, and you smiled. 

“So are you just into girls, or do you like guys too?” Maria asked, stroking your hair. 

You shrugged. “I don’t know, but I don’t really care,” you explained and Maria nodded. “You don’t have to know. So how about we invite poor Wanda into the room and order some food,” Maria suggested, and you nodded. 

You went and got Wanda, and you enjoyed a night settled on the couch, feeling relieved your moms finally knew.

[writerastray]

Should we?

General Masterlist - Read this before interacting

Disclaimer:

⚠︎ My works are all protected. I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting. Please reblog if you want to share my work.

⚠︎ My work is only appropriate for adults over the age of 18. Ageless/blank blogs will be blocked.

-> Relationships: Seo Changbin/f!Reader

-> Word count: 4.3k

-> Rating: 18+→ Mature/Explicit

->Genre/Tropes: Halloween Romance, One-shot, Fluff, Fun, (a sprinkle of angst), Smut. Other Additional Tags to Be Added. (Spoiler tags: Friends to Lovers.)

-> Warning tags: Explicit Sexual Content. Other Additional Tags to Be Added.

-> Synopsis: On Halloween night, the city buzzed with costumed chaos, but Changbin’s focus was elsewhere—specifically, on a coffee shop offering free drinks for couples. The thought of cozying up in a warm, pumpkin-scented space, sipping hot drinks, was too tempting to resist. The only catch? He needed a date. And that’s where you came in.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

You lounged in your dorm, scrolling aimlessly through your phone when Changbin appeared in the doorway, his black leather jacket fitting perfectly. The last rays of sunset caught his brown eyes, making them brighter than usual.

Earlier, he had barged in, complaining about how bored he was now that most of his childhood friends were back in his hometown while he was stuck here, finishing up midterm exams. You wondered how long it would be before he found something to occupy himself so you could get back to your peace and finish the book resting on your lap, waiting to be read.

“Hey, did you hear? There’s a coffee shop offering free drinks to couples on Halloween,” he said, trying to sound casual, though you could hear the challenge in his voice.

You glanced up, eyebrows furrowed. “On Halloween?”

“Yep, the one Minho always talks about,” he replied, pushing himself off the door frame with a grin. “Wanna go?”

A smile tugged at your lips as excitement bubbled up inside you. “So, you’re asking me to be your fake date for free coffee? How romantic.”

He shrugged playfully. “Come on, who can resist free caffeinated drinks and the chance to call themselves my girlfriend for a night?”

“Why don’t you take your next one-night stand there?” you teased.

“Because I want to go with you,” he said, licking his lips in that effortlessly charming way before adding, “why? Afraid you'll catch feelings, Y/N?”

You stared at him. “You wish,” you replied, tossing your book on the couch. “Let’s go.”

You weren’t sure if it was the promise of the night ahead or the way Changbin smiled at you, but you slipped into your jacket, shaking your head as you tried to hide your grin. “What I wouldn’t do for a pumpkin latte.”

The humid and chilly air nipped at your face as you walked the already crowded streets, where there were decorations at every store. Some people were in costumes with excited smiles, while others looked just tired from the workday. 

You glanced sideways at Changbin, noting how the streetlights cast shadows across his face. He wore his glasses, looking heartbreakingly handsome in them.

“What?” he asked, catching you staring.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly. “I was just thinking... wasn’t one of your friends working at that coffee shop?”

Changbin smirked. “Hyunjin. I bet it was his idea—the discount for couples on fucking Halloween.” 

You stopped, glaring at him. “Changbin.”

“What?” he asked, looking clueless.

“He’s not going to believe us! When was the last time you even dated anyone seriously?”

His eyes sparked with a hint of hurt. “You’re different,” he replied softly.

“How am I different?” you asked, already mourning the possibility of free lattes slipping away.

“We slept together once, and we’ve stayed friends since then. Who’s to say it couldn’t happen?”

Your heart pounded as his words hung in the air. Memories of a shared summer night came flooding back, and you felt warmth creeping up your neck.

The first time you met Changbin was on the last day of summer at a party in the countryside house of one of Chris’s childhood friends, Hyunjin. 

You were in the kitchen, drinking with Chris and a few of his friends when he said, “Ask Changbin out already. Your crush on him is painfully obvious, and he can’t stop looking at you.”

“I don’t even know him. It’s not a crush; he’s just... really hot.”

You’d been eyeing Changbin since you arrived. He was one of the most attractive guys you’d ever met, and the way he naturally drew attention captivated you. He was just your type.

Once you finally gave in to Chris’s nudges and approached Changbin, everything fell into place. You greeted him, and the way he whispered his name in your ear left you breathless. The conversation was just an excuse for you to say, “Want to go outside for some air?”

It didn’t take long before you were making out with him, his kisses somehow feeling like both an eternity and a heartbeat, leaving you craving more. He fucked you against Hyunjin’s wine cellar door like his life depended on it.

You thought that would be the first and last time you’d see him. You never kept track of the names of guys you hooked up with; however, Changbin’s name, face, voice, and taste didn’t leave your mind.

It was a pleasant surprise when you found out, on your first day of classes, that he would be your calculus tutor for the semester. 

Even better, you knew you were terrible at calculus, which is how you became friends 

He recognized you immediately, but he never mentioned that summer night, and you pretended nothing had happened. You told yourself it was better that way.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked.

He moved closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, his face just inches from yours. “I mean we have good chemistry. We just need to pretend. He’ll believe it.”

Whatever was blossoming in your chest vanished just as quickly.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered.

He grinned, his voice low and teasing. “Think of pumpkin spice lattes. I know you love them.”

Your resolve wavered as you met his gaze. “Fine. But if he doesn’t buy it, you’re paying for the drinks.”

He chuckled, pulling you close and saying, “That’s my girl.” His tone was playful, but the way he said it made your heart skip a beat.

The coffee shop was warm, decorated with autumn leaves, grinning jack-o'-lanterns, and twinkling fairy lights casting a cozy, golden glow over everything. The scent of freshly brewed coffee, cinnamon, and pumpkin spice filled the air as you stepped inside.

Hyunjin stood behind the counter, surrounded by a small group of giggling girls. When the doorbell chimed, he looked up, his eyes landing on the two of you.

“Well, well, what brings you two here?” Hyunjin asked, a sly grin spreading across his face.

“Free pumpkin spice lattes and two cinnamon rolls,” you replied confidently, looping your arm through Changbin’s.

“And a slice of cheesecake,” Changbin added with a smirk, fully leaning into the act.

Hyunjin’s eyebrows lifted slightly. "Drinks are only free for couples."

You smiled, leaning into Changbin and resting your head on his shoulder. “We are a couple,” you said in a sweet tone.

Changbin wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “See?”

Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed, but his grin didn’t fade. "You two? A couple? Please. We all know neither of you do relationships.”

Changbin sighed, though there was a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, there’s a first time for everything."

"Uh-huh." Hyunjin folded his arms. "If you were really dating, you’d have told me ages ago. I’m not buying it."

When your stomach grumbled, you got tired of the banter.

Changbin didn’t have a chance to respond before you grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a kiss. For a second, he froze, but then he melted into it, his hand finding your waist as he pulled you close. His lips moved against yours, warm and soft, his tongue teasing yours just enough to send a shiver down your spine. When you finally pulled back, you glared at Hyunjin.

“Are you done, or should we keep going?” you challenged.

Hyunjin’s cheeks flushed, and he cleared his throat. “Drinks on the house.”

You chuckled, glancing up at Changbin’s wide-eyed expression. “Told you he’d buy it,” you whispered as you moved to find a seat.

But as you settled into a booth, you couldn’t help but scream internally, What the hell did I just do?

You snuck glances at Changbin, who was still processing what had happened, his eyes fixed on you. It made you wonder what he was thinking.

The coffee shop filled up quickly. You and Changbin settled into a corner booth, the pumpkin spice latte warming your hands, the cinnamon rolls long gone, and a slice of cheesecake placed between you. You took turns, sharing bites.

You couldn’t stop stealing glances at his lips. The ones I’d just kissed.

“So, girlfriend,” Changbin said with a teasing smirk, “was the kiss worth it?”

Your breath almost hitched. Had he noticed you staring?

You rolled your eyes, pretending to be nonchalant, but couldn’t hide your smile, especially when you remembered the sweet taste of it. “Worth it. We should do this more often.”

“Kissing?”

“Of course not,” you shot back, clicking your tongue. “Getting free drinks, I mean.”

“Are you admitting we have good chemistry?” he asked, leaning closer, his voice dropping an octave.

“I never said we didn’t,” you replied, leaning in. “Besides, I think we’re really good at pretending.”

His eyes locked onto yours. “Oh, and are we still pretending?”

You stuffed a piece of cheesecake into your mouth to avoid his gaze, looking at anything but him. The golden writing on the walls that read “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul…”, a little boy with a whipped-cream mustache laughing as his dad took a photo, two older women sharing a kiss in the opposite corner, and a girl dressed as a witch slipping her number into Hyunjin’s apron pocket. Hyunjin caught your eye, raising an eyebrow.

You leaned closer to Changbin and whispered, “Hyunjin’s watching.” Changbin glanced around and then leaned in closer.

His arm settled around your seat, his hand gently brushing your shoulder. Your eyes met, and you were so close, you could smell his cologne. His fingers traced up to your ear, grazing it softly, sending goosebumps down your arms.

That slight, turned-down smile appeared on his lips—the one you loved seeing—and your stomach flipped.

“Want to kiss me again, Y/N?”

“I think that’s enough PDA for one day.”

He leaned in with a teasing pout and whispered close to your ear, 'No fun,' and you swore you melted right there. Before things could escalate further, you turned to see Hyunjin, who was busy taking an order from a group of students.

“I would like my girlfriend’s eyes on me.”

You looked back, amused. “What are you doing?”

“Just playing along.”

But it didn’t feel like that at all. Not with the way he was looking at you, his voice a low rasp that made it harder to breathe. The air between you crackled with tension, and your heart raced. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, with the scent of coffee and cinnamon mixing in the air. His gaze was so intense, and you wondered if he could sense the shift between you—how every moment felt charged with something neither of you dared to name, yet.

“So, is this where we say we’re in love, or what?” you joked, attempting to lighten the mood, but your voice wavered slightly.

He only chuckled, pulling back and finishing the last bite of cheesecake; you noticed his ears had turned red.

When you finally headed outside, the sun had set, and the streets were bustling. The time had flown by; you wished you’d lingered over your food, stretching out the evening. You’d gone out with Changbin countless times for tutoring sessions at coffee shops, libraries, and parks, but none had ever felt quite like this. Maybe it was the kiss. You couldn’t shake the feel of his lips from your mind. It had been so long since you last kissed him; you hadn’t realized how much you craved it until today.

“So… do you want to head back?” he asked softly, curious.

You paused, wanting to keep this, whatever it was, going just a bit longer. A smile tugged at your lips. “I heard they’re doing an outdoor movie screening in the park.”

Changbin grinned, extending his arm in a mock-gentlemanly gesture. “Lead the way, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you looped your arm through his.

The outdoor screening of a classic Halloween movie was right in the heart of the park. The place was softly lit with lanterns, scattered decorations, and couples wrapped in blankets dotted the lawn. You found a spot in the crowd, and Changbin spread out a blanket that the staff were giving as the movie started.

You didn’t even know which movie was playing; you weren’t a fan of horror movies, but it was always fun to watch with someone else, especially if they were easily scared, like Changbin.

As the movie went on, you felt the tension grow between you two. You couldn’t stop glancing at him, wanting to hear his voice and his laugh. 

When you shivered—more from nerves than the cold—he draped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

“You know you don’t need to pretend here, right?” You said. 

He smirked, coming close enough that his nose nearly touched the part of your neck that always made you shiver. His lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “I know.”

You turned to look at him.

Everything felt different. You’d never felt like this before. You could barely look him in the eyes without turning into a complete mess; your heart raced, heat spread through your entire body, and it felt as if the words wouldn’t come out of your mouth.

Would it be so wrong to lean in? To give in to the pull?

There was an understanding between the two of you without words. You were just friends. Neither of you was ready for a relationship. Changbin had told you before that he had a lot on his mind with his internship and university. He was always conscious of boundaries and never crossed that line with you. He was always conscious of boundaries and never crossed that line with you. Meanwhile, you had to study harder than anyone else just to get an average score on exams and assignments. There was simply no time for relationships, even if you wanted one.

So why was he acting differently now? Too flirty, too touchy, too caring. And why were you falling for it?

You tried to mask the heat in your gaze with a smirk.

“You’re not scared, are you?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “Of a classic horror movie? Please.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Changbin. You seem like the type to jump at—”

A loud jump-scare blared from the screen, and you yelped, instinctively grabbing his arm. He laughed, pulling you even closer, your faces now just inches apart. For a moment, time stood still, and the world around you faded away. His eyes darkened, and you wondered if he might close the gap between you. Your breath caught in your throat, your lips parting as you waited. But then he pulled back slightly, the tension heavy between you.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” you whispered, though your heart pounded against your chest. “I’m fine.”

His eyes flicked down to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze. “You sure?”

No, actually. I’d feel better if I could feel your lips on mine again.

You wanted to shake him and demand to know why he was holding back if he felt the same way. Instead, you swallowed the urge and forced a smile.

“Positive.”

But the way he held your gaze, the slight tightening of his fingers on your shoulder—it was as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

As the movie ended, you both walked back toward your apartment. The night had grown colder, but you didn’t mind—it made you even more aware of how close Changbin was. You found yourself dragging your feet, not quite ready for the night to end. You only realized you’d stopped walking when he glanced over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised.

“What’s wrong?”

You hesitated. What could you possibly say?

Today had left you confused. For months, he’d acted like nothing would ever happen between you two, but tonight... Did you read it all wrong? You weren’t sure how to tell him you didn’t want the night to end—that maybe you wanted more than just tonight. But what would he think if you said that? What if it made things awkward and ended your friendship? You swallowed the thought.

You couldn’t say that.

“Nothing.”

But his expression shifted, a knowing look crossing his face as if he could read the unsaid words hanging between you. You recognized that look in his eyes. He’d looked at you like that more than once—especially the night he fucked you. Did he want more as well? And if he wanted it, should you spend the night with him, just one more time? Be one more of each other's one-night stands?

“Right,” he said teasingly, though there was a warmth in his tone that felt different. “You sure? Because it looks like you’ve got something on your mind.”

Was it a mistake to try again? Tonight was perfect. You didn’t want to ruin it by acting on something you might regret tomorrow. Part of you knew that if you indulged in whatever was happening between you two, it would only be for tonight. By morning, he might let you go, and you weren’t sure you were ready to face those feelings again.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

The moment stretched, and he stepped closer; you could feel his breath brushing against your skin, intoxicating and warm.

“I just—” But before you could finish, he reached out, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering a moment too long.

“You just…?”

“Don’t want to go home yet," you said.

“Oh.” He paused, studying you for a moment. His gaze lingered on your lips before meeting your eyes. “Wanna crash at my place instead?”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Should you go? See where things led? What was the worst that could happen? Catching unrequited feelings.

Were you willing to risk it?

“If you don’t want to, it’s cool—”

“I do,” you interrupted, the words rushing out before you could stop them. “Let’s go.”

The warmth of Changbin's place enveloped you instantly as you stepped inside, filling the air with the familiar scent of laundry. It was enough for two and cozy, thanks to his roommate.

“Seungmin’s not here,” he said, his voice low.

You wandered over to the window showing the city nightscape. You’d always loved the view from Changbin’s apartment. You remembered the night before finals, the two of you cramming by that very window, papers scattered everywhere on the floor as you studied together.

You smiled, arching a brow as you turned back to him. “So that’s why you invited me, huh? Don’t want to be lonely tonight?”

He snorted, walking over to wrap his arms around you. Changbin wasn’t shy about showing affection, but this time, it felt different, and you felt your whole body tingle under his embrace. “Maybe I just wanted my girlfriend around a little longer.”

“Are you sure? What if things change?”

His hands guided you to face him, one hand resting on your waist. “It’s a risk, for better or worse.”

“And you’re willing to take it?” you asked softly.

He lifted your chin, meeting your gaze. “Only if you are.”

A rush of adrenaline surged through you. You didn’t stand a chance; there was no way you could say no to him. It was a pull that always kept you gravitating toward him until you collided. Fear of the unknown, of getting attached to something that might not last—all of it faded when you locked eyes with Changbin. The need for him was stronger than any fear.

Fuck it. 

You leaned up and captured his lips, fingers tangling in his hair as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, molding his lips to yours with a quiet urgency that made your stomach drop as if you were riding a rollercoaster. It was all you could think about.  His strong arms locked around your body, and you melted in his embrace. 

It felt like everything you’d wanted and more—exhilarating, and undeniably worth it.

You let a moan escape at the feeling of his tongue on your lips before he kissed you again. He groaned, his palm tightening at the back of your neck, while his other hand slid down your side.

“Why haven't we done this before?” he asked, his hand reaching the outer part of your thigh, giving your ass a firm squeeze through your jeans, making you wish you had worn a dress.

You couldn't even answer with the way his lips found your throat. His lips trailed down to your collarbone, fingers sneaking under your shirt. His hands were cold, and you shivered as they moved higher until they slipped beneath your bra. He gave your breast a gentle squeeze, and your hands clenched against his shoulders when he pinched your nipples.

Your fingers locked in his hair, pulling him closer as you kissed him harder. He pressed you against the wall, bruising your lips, and your hands flew to his neck. You gasped when his hips pressed harder against you, and you felt the thick length of his cock gliding along your skin.

You pushed away from him enough to say, “Are you sure? Because once I start, I don’t think I can stop.”

“There’s no reason to stop, sweetheart,” he replied in a low voice that made your heart race and your underwear wet.

Without breaking eye contact, your hand slipped down from his neck to his waist, pausing at the waistband of his underwear. You could feel his hardness trapped behind the fabric, and he exhaled sharply as your fingers closed around him. Pre-cum already glistened on the head of his cock, and when you dragged your thumb over it, he let out a soft groan.

Changbin kissed you slowly and gently at first, then deepened the kiss into a frantic, desperate swirl of tongues.

You pulled down his pants, freeing his cock, and quickened your strokes, feeling him swell beneath your grip as his hips moved in rhythm with your hands. He kissed you messily, hungrily, along your jawline, biting at your neck with every movement of your hand, hardening further under your touch, until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Couch, Y/n.” He scooted back and grabbed your hand.

He led you to the couch, gently pushing you onto it, his eyes devouring the sight of your body sprawled out before him as he knelt between your legs. His lips found yours, Changbin’s hand moving along your inner thighs, higher and higher.

He helped you take off your shirt, and you silently thanked yourself for wearing decent new underwear and a matching bra. He unclasped your jeans and yanked them down along with your underwear.

Spreading your legs, he muttered, “Fuck, sweetheart.” He gently parted your pussy, drawing slow, deliberate circles on your clit, letting you soak by the second.

“Changbin, please,” you begged, your body burning beneath his touch, his gaze glazed with desire.

“I missed you being this needy for me,” he said, making your core clench at his words.

Your back arched as Changbin lowered his mouth, kissing the skin of your inner thigh and then moving upward, inch by inch, drawing a sharp breath once his lips found your pussy.. He brushed it lightly before taunting you with languid kisses that left you trembling. You curled your fingers into his hair, your hips shifting at each stroke.

You bit back a cry when his tongue slid across your slit. He licked and teased your clit; his kisses lingering whenever he drew a moan from you, but never for too long. You tightened your grip in his hair as the pressure coiled inside you, begging for release. It came when his eyes met yours, drunk with lust, sending you over the edge. You arched into him as pleasure crashed into you, waves leaving you breathless. But you didn’t want it to end—you needed more of him..

“Binnie, please, fuck me,” you whispered, your hands finding his cheeks as you looked at him. “I need you.”

His eyes widened before he gave that smirk that made your heart race.

He crashed his lips to yours, wrapping a fist around his cock and angling it down to drag the head over your clit, wetting himself with your arousal.

“Hands above your head,” he instructed, shifting forward and pressing you against the couch.

You gasped as he moved his hips, rubbing the full length of his cock against your clit. Your desperation grew with each slow thrust of his length against you.

As if sensing your pleading, he hooked one arm under your thigh, spreading you wider as he angled himself. Your hips sank lower as the head of his cock nudged your entrance. Then he seized your hips and thrust inside you.

You could only whimper in response, your pussy making a squelching sound around his length. He thrust into you shamelessly, noisily, moans bursting from your lips with every movement of his hips, until you couldn’t hold back anymore and came.

Butterflies stormed in your belly as Changbin’s hips bucked compulsively, and he came, gasping and groaning.

You felt your body grow heavy as Changbin withdrew and kissed you softly. He disappeared into the bathroom, then returned wearing shorts, holding a clean shirt for you and a towel to help you clean up.

After everything, you lay with your head on his lap, exhaustion and euphoria filling you. His hand gently caressed your arm, and you looked up at him with a soft smile.

“We should really keep doing this couple discount thing,” you teased.

He smirked, a glint in his eyes. “Like me being your boyfriend?”

You met his gaze, and the words rushed out, “What if I like it?”

His fingers brushed your cheek as he whispered, “Then maybe we should stop pretending.”

Hope bloomed in your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Should we?”

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Author's note: Hi! I hope you liked this story. English is my second language, so please excuse my errors. Constructive feedback is always appreciated! I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting of my work.

Did you enjoy this? If so, please reblog it. Thank you for reading! Sending love 💕

Copyright © 2024 by Writerastray.

[scarletwinterxx]

stupid in love with you - jaehyun scenario

when i heard this song i had one person in my mind and a bunch of cute moments I wanted to write about. so now we're here😅 jeong jaehyun the man that you are��🥺

song inspo: stupid in love - max

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"What are you doing here?"

"You said you hated driving when it's snowing, and I remembered you had work today so I came to pick you up"

Yuno Jeong was the last but probably the only person you'd expect to see right now. The snowfall was a bit stronger today, only those who had work or important errands to run dared to brave the cold weather outside and here he was standing outside the cafe you worked at.

"It's late and it's freezing, you should've waited inside" you chided him, he just smiles at you. Happy that you weren't shooing him away.

It's been a while since he started courting you, and even though you told him you weren't really looking for a serious relationship at the moment he still offered to be a friend. A companion. For you he'd be anything you'd want him to be.

You admit at first you were hesitant and for a few valid reason: like for one, why would Jaehyun like you YOU out of all the girls falling on their knees for him and two, in your mind he's just way too out of your league. It's not that you're selling yourself short, it's just he's the Jaehyun Jeong.

His presence is now a constant in your everyday life, you won't tell him now but it feels incomplete when you don't see him or talk to him. Jaehyun successfully won you over, and he's not aware of it yet.

"It's okay, can I drive you home?" he asks, watching you walk towards him. To him, this is the highlight of his day. He spent the past hours of his day waiting until he can see you again. He didn't want to burden you or annoy you, if he's being honest it took all of his willpower not to drive earlier and just stay all day at the cafe just so he could see you because what if some dude decides to ask you out or asks for your number. All these scenarios playing in his head.

You roll your eyes at him, ever the gentleman that he is. He still asks you even though he practically drives you home every chance he could.

When you got to where he was, standing right in front of him you take his hand to give him a small bag. "I made extra cookies today, and tried making this new cake for the menu. Tell me if you like it"

Jaehyun looks inside the bag then back at you, a smile already on his lips. "You got me these? How'd you know I was coming?" he teasingly asks you

You playfully push him aside to get in his car, he laughs then holds the door open for you. After you get in, he jogs over the driver's side. Waiting until he settles inside before you answer him

"I just know" you say

He just looks at you, taking note of your reddened cheeks probably from the cold. He knows you get cold easily so he turns the heater on. You put your hands in front the vents to warm them up, feeling his gaze on you

"What?" you ask, looking over at him

Like always, he has this stupidly cute smile on his face. One you only see when he's with you. Something you internally boast about.

"Nothing, just missed you today"

You scrunch your nose at him, shaking your head.

"If you're free tomorrow would you like to go out with me?"

"In this weather? Why don't you just go over my place, we can watch a movie, dinner, bake cookies" you suggested, when he didn't say anything you look at him again

Thinking you might have upset him, you add "Sorry, I mean if you already planned something sure I'd go with you"

"No uhm your suggestion sounds better actually, are you okay though? If I come over?"

"Why won't I be? Bring some snacks over though, and if you want you can go there by lunch, you shouldn't be driving this late in this weather" you absentmindedly nag, the guy sitting beside you can feel his ears go red but he didn't care.

You put your seatbelt on, waiting for him to start the car but again Jaehyun made no move beside you prompting you to look at him again. You giggle when you see his red ears, "What did I do this time?" you tease him, leaning over to touch his ears with your semi-cold fingers

He just watches you adoringly, wishing this moment won't end. Wishing for the seconds to last longer so he can be this close to you. You're so close he can smell your favorite vanilla perfume, can see the faint red on your lips from your liptint you wear everyday making him wonder just what it tastes like.

Then he snaps out of his head, taking your cold hands in his before taking them against his lips. You just watch him with wide eyes, "I drove this late so I can see you because I missed you, don't worry your pretty little mind I promise I drove carefully. And I also promise tomorrow I'd drive earlier" he whispers against your hands.

Sometimes you ask yourself just why can't you accept it and fall completely in love with him. It's not difficult, in fact it's the easiest thing especially when he's this caring and sweet and attentive towards you.

Come the next day, Jaehyun already texted you early this morning asking if you needed anything else. He's already on his way to your place, a bag of your favorite snacks in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other.

When you hear the doorbell ring, you hurry over. The moment you open the door you see the flowers

"Hi" Jaehyun says, you let him in before closing the door behind him

"I got these for you, just because. And I know you don't like flowers that much but these are pretty flowers, I wanted to give them to the prettiest girl"

You take the flowers from him, jokingly scowling at him. He laughs, walking right behind you. He puts the grocery bag on the counter before taking his coat off.

"Okay so, what are we doing?" he asks you,

"I already cooked pasta and I baked bread the other day so I'll just need to heat those. I was planning to start on the brownies, you can help me with that"

You get the other apron, throwing it on Jaehyun before walking behind him to tie it for him. Meanwhile he feels like his heart is about to burst out of his chest, how can this night end without him kissing you he's not so sure.

With every little thing you do, it's like a brick being broken down one by one. And soon enough nothing will stop him, but for you he'll control it. He can wait, he'll wait. You're worth the wait, he reminds himself.

"Okay, so in this bowl you put eggs, butter and milk a bit of vanilla" you tell him. The two of you work side by side, he listens to your instructions while you put the ingredients in the bowl. He mixes, you pour. He can't help but think the two of you make the perfect team.

You put the baking dish in the over, setting the timer before turning to face him again. "And now we wait, should we eat lunch now?"

"You got something on your cheek" Jaehyun says, before he can stop himself he's already stepping towards you. It's like his body was on auto-pilot, grasping your chin gently to tilt it towards him while his other hand wipes the flour away.

"There" he mumbles, looking down at you. Now he fully realizes just how close he is. Your wide eyes looking at him, waiting for his next move. A bit disappointed when you feel his warm hands let go of you, "So uh lunch? I can set up the table"

Neither of you said anything about it after that. He sets up the table while you prepare the food, after lunch the two of you clean the dishes side by side while waiting for the brownies to be done.

When you hear the timer go off, you get the mittens before opening the oven. Just when the baking dish reaches the cooling rack, it touches a part of your hand

"Ouch ouch ouch oh my gosh"

"What? What happened?" Jaehyun immediately takes the mittens off, checking your hand and he sees the red line. He pulls you over the sink, turning the tap on letting the water run over your hand

"Where's the first aid?" he asks "In the bathroom, last door down the hall. It's under the sink"

He quickly walks to the other room, coming back with the first aid kit. He knows you keep a burn medicine in there because he got the kit for you, it's not the first time this happened so he got you a first aid kit just in case.

He turns the tap off, drying your hand gently with a towel before dabbing the medicine on. "Does that still hurt?"

"A bit" you answer

"You want ice? Aloe? I can go to the store and grab some"

"Jae it's okay, it's just a little burn. I get them all the time when I bake" you tell him, he finally looks you. Making sure you're actually okay.

You chuckle, pulling your injured hand to your side while you use your other hand to pull him down. You don't know what possessed you but you just suddenly had the urge to do it.

You pull him down by the collar of his hoodie until he's eye to eye with you. You kissed the corner of his lips, it was so quick Jaehyun didn't even have enough time to react. "I'm good, how about we watch a movie while the brownies cool down" you ask him with a smile

He bites his lips, nodding at you. You smile at him then you walk towards the living room, leaving him there in the kitchen like you didn't just give him a mini heart attack.

It took some time before you finally choose a movie, it was an odd one to watch on a movie date night but he watches it. It's your favorite movie after all.

"Is it weird that this is my favorite movie?" you ask all of a sudden

He looks down at you, your head resting on the pillow between the two of you.

"No, why? It's a good movie" he answers

"Well it's about a woman who frames her own husband, but I like the twist. Is that weird?" you turn so your head is now towards him, only to see him already looking at you

"I won't frame you for anything, I swear" you jokingly add, making Jaehyun let out a hearty laugh.

This time he's the one doing something unexpected, he leans down you close your eyes involuntary then you feel his lips kiss the tip of your nose. The most gentle kiss ever, but you swear you could feel it to the ends of your fingertips.

"I'd take the blame, don't worry" then he goes back to watching the movie.

You try the hardest to focus on the movie again but your mind won't let you. Jaehyun notices your restlessness but don't comment on it. Finally you sit up, throwing the pillow that was between the two of you on the floor before sitting cross legged facing him

"Yes?" he asks

"Don't play stupid with me, Yuno. What was that?"

"That?"

"That little kiss, what was that?"

The end of lips curl upwards but he fights it, wanting to enjoy a few more seconds of teasing you

"Weren't you the one who kissed me first in the kitchen?"

"That was... I was... That was a thank you" you try to reason out

"Okay, then that was a 'you're welcome' kiss" he replies back

He watches you have an internal debate, waiting for you to say anything but you don't.

"I won't do it again if you don't like it. I'm sorry" he tells you

"It's not that, I just don't know what to do when you do it. I don't know what to do half the time when you're being like that okay" you grumbled, crossing your arms.

That feeling in Jaehyun's chest comes back, like the last of the bricks just fell and now he's face to face with you. Thinking if he should hold back or say fuck it and kiss you for real this time.

"Being like what exactly?" he prods

"You're really making me say it?" you ask back

"Well I'm not sure what you're taking about so enlighten me, baby"

You instantly blush when you hear the nickname, he never used it on you. Directly atleast. So hearing him call you feels like all the butterflies in your tummy were rioting.

"That!" you point at him, the guy blinks back at you with a small smile "You do something like hold the door open for me, buckle my seatbelt for me, put your hand behind my seat when you reverse the car, or behind my chair when we're seating together, you zip my jacket for me, you always put food on my plate first, you get me my favorite coffee every morning and put cute little notes on it. What am I suppose to do when you do all of that for me?"

He looks down at your hands, letting out a chuckle before he takes your hand in his.

"I do all of those because I want to, not because I'm expecting something back. I do it because I like you. Just let me do it, that's all you can do for me" he smiles

"Aren't you tired of it?"

"No, never" he shakes his head, "You asked me if I could wait, I'll wait. Being with you is enough for me. When I see you, my day is complete. Whenever you save me a slice of cake from the cafe or bake cookies for me, it's the sweetest treat ever"

You're still frowning, but not for the wrong reasons.

How can you not fall even more for this guy when he's like this with you. What's actually stopping you from finally saying yes to him.

"A penny for your thoughts?" he whispers

"How long have you been courting me?" you ask him

"A year and a few months, maybe more. Almost 2 years, if you want me to stop I can't promise you I can because I really really like you and I-"

Then you're kissing him. For real this time. Your lips are on his. It takes a few seconds before he realizes this is happening for real and you're really kissing him.

He put his arms around you, pulling you on top of him until you're settled on his lap. Your lips tasted sweet, a faint lemon taste probably from your favorite liptint.

You feel him smile against your lips, one hand on the back of your neck so he can kiss you fully and deeply. Letting him take the lead and get lost in each other's lips. Right now nothing else mattered, all you can think about is him.

When the two of you broke apart, he has this goofy smile on his face

"Do you know how stupidly in love I am with you?" he breathes out, rubbing your noses together and kissing your lips between each word like he emphasizing each of them.

"I think I have a clue" you joke, chasing after his lips to kiss him again which he returned gladly. The two of you broke into a fit of giggles, breaking the kiss again

"Does this mean I'm your boyfriend now?"

"Let me think about it" you tease him

He skims his hands on your waist, knowing you're ticklish there. "Okay okay fine, you're my boyfriend now" you tell him, stopping his hand from doing anything.

Then he hugs you, pulling you on his chest. Kissing the side of your head, your ear, your shoulder before tucking his face on the side of your neck like it's his home.

He's so stupid in love with you, he's already thinking about his future with you. It's like he wants to fast-forward and see your future lives together but also he wants to pause time and stay in this moment forever.

[ramp-it-up]

Sugar Sugar

Summary: You chose Bucky. But now he’s going 5000 miles away. And you were not consulted. Steve is right there and it’s his birthday. The competition isn’t over.

Word Count: 2.5K

Pairings: College grad Steve x Grad School Reader; College grad Bucky x Grad School Reader (Not Stucky); Various Marvel MCU Characters (in same age except for Stark) x Reader (platonic)

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Not Beta’d. Read at your own risk. Roommate au, S MUT! Lovers quarrel before action starts, angst, flirting, Tony being Tony, lowkey voyeurism, a lil bit of fluff. drinking, flirting, crushes, an unsanctioned birthday picnic, ‘borrowed’ champagne, birthday “kisses” 😏, oral s ex (f receiving), cheating (maybe. possibly)

A/N: This is a sequel to last year’s Sugar. I know! 😫 I hope you like it.

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You were sipping your blueberry tequila smash and staring moodily across the water. It was supposed to be a festive day and an even better night, but that insanely handsome and inconsiderate roommate/boyfriend of yours ruined it all.

Or rather, you ruined it, thinking that you would be any different than any of the other girls he’d smashed and passed on. So what it had lasted a year? Bucky was leaving you now, so cheers to wasted time.

You downed the rest of your drink in one gulp as you thought to get another when someone cleared their throat beside you.

You glanced over to see your boss standing beside you, resplendent in a white suit and sunglasses. You straightened up and ran your free hand over your white mini sundress with blue polka dots and greeted him.

“Oh! Hello, Mr. Stark. This party is so nice. Great way to celebrate the Fourth!”

You plastered on a fake smile and aimed it at him. He smiled back at you.

“Cut the shit, Sugar. I know you’re not that happy. I saw you and Barnes had words and he stalked out. I warned you about fraternization.”

Your stomach dropped and you just knew that you would be fired and kicked out of Stark house, losing your graduate fellowship. Shit. Stark knew everything, even the nickname that your roommates, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers had given you.

“Oh that? That was nothing, just a roommate disagreement.”

Stark leaned in. He smelled good. Real good. He smelled….rich.

“Listen. That rule is not because I mind co-workers getting it on…” 

He paused and winked at you, and instead of being creepy, it was funny, so you laughed. 

“It’s because most people, especially young people like you, can’t do it without all the feels.”

He nodded and you turned to see Wanda and Vis sneaking off around the house, hand in hand.

“That’s going to lead to heartbreak,” he said, indicating the sneaky couple.

Then looked you in the eyes. 

“And you’re going to be all twisted up into knots between those two grunts if you’re not careful.”

You looked at him quizzically.

“Two grunts?”

Stark sighed and raised his hand.

“You need to lay off the red, white, and blue drinks, Sugar.”

He looked you up and down and you don’t know if it was the drinks, but you weren’t mad at him. He was kind of charming.

“Barnes and Rogers. Part of the reason I keep you around, besides the fact that your IQ is within 20 points of mine, is the increased productivity around them when you are together. Competition is a wonderful thing for business.”

When the server appeared, he grabbed an elegant looking red drink.

“But lately productivity is falling. Hence Barnes’ new offer. It had to be done, Sugar. Now we all can concentrate on the work ahead.”

You frowned at what he was saying, not giving voice to your feelings on that subject. Stark sighed again and shook his head as he handed the drink to you, despite what he said earlier.

“Kir Royale.”

You accepted it and took a sip. Then you looked up at Stark.  You were beginning to think that he might have been pretty cute when he was younger.

“I was Sugar, and I’m a handsome devil now.”

You gasped and put your hand over your mouth as he winked and walked away, not knowing you’d said that out loud. You watched him walk away as he commented over his shoulder. 

“Nice dress, Sugar. It’s making several people all hard, soft, and wet.”

You gasped again, looking down. The dress covered everything, and you didn’t know what he was talking about. You turned toward the river and the afternoon sun again, finally realizing.

The sun was shining through your dress and everyone behind you could see everything you had to offer. And you hadn’t worn any underwear because you came with Bucky.

You quickly made your way down the lawn to the edge of the hedge maze to put the greenery at your back and to watch the water in privacy. Irritation was on the edge of your brain, but the drinks were making everything mellow. 

So what, your boyfriend had accepted a position in Romania for a year?

So what, you couldn’t go with because you’d won a coveted Stark fellowship that extended your housing and salary into while you studied in graduate school at NYU?

So what, Bucky didn’t consult you before committing himself?

So what, you were an idiot who thought you could have happily ever after?

You jumped at a noise behind you. You wheeled around and were stopped in your tracks.

“Hey Sugar.”

Steve was there, with a strange look on his face, but his bright blue shirt was making those eyes pop.

“Oh. Hullo Steve.” 

You pouted at him and he almost fell to his knees. 

Things had been different with you and Steve since you and Bucky had gotten together last year. You were still friends, but he kept you at arms length. You didn’t think much about it, because you’d been wrapped up in your relationship, but as you looked at him now, the guilt hit you full force.

“Oh shit, Cap! It’s your birthday!”

His Lacrosse moniker flew from your lips as you threw yourself into his arms for a hug. Steve was caught off guard and stumbled backward, but managed to break your fall with his body. His hard body. 

“Thank you. You remembered.”

You were both laughing as you untangled from each other on the ground.

“Of course I did! I’m your bestie, right?” 

You gave him your bightest smile.

“Bestie. Right.” 

Steve thought of the innocent kiss you’d shared last year. He thought of it every day, in fact. But you were Bucky’s girl. He looked at you and grinned. You made him so happy. You and Bucky were his only family, so he was glad to be with you today, if only for a moment. 

“I see you were trying to be alone. I’ll leave you be.”

The sight of you made him weak, so he made to leave before he said something stupid. Then, he felt your hand grab his.

“Just where do you think you’re going, Mister?”

“Ummm…?”

“Um, nothing! We’re going to celebrate your birthday in style, Bestie.” 

Your eyes sparkled at him.

“Are you ready for your reconnaissance mission?”

—--

20 minutes later, you and Steve met in the same place, behind the hedges. He’d completed his mission with table cloth and a box full of some hor’s d'oeuvres from the party. Steve had charmed one of the servers in the kitchen.

He took you in, a mischievous look on your face and your arms behind your back. Your nipples were pointed right at him through your dress and his mouth went dry.

“What do you have there?”

Steve’s deep baritone and his raised eyebrow did something to you, but you shook it off as you brought your hands in front of you. Steve barked at your audacity.

You’d swiped a bottle of Stark’s Bollinger Vieilles Vignes Françaises from the bar and the entire top to the strawberry and blueberry five tier sponge cake that was on the buffet.

“Only the best for my bestie!”

Steve shook his head at you as you set up the picnic.

You and Steve talked like you hadn’t in over a year. You ate and drank and just relaxed, bringing your old vibe back. Everything was perfect, even the beginning sunset across the water.

Until Steve complimented your dress.

“This is nice.” 

He took it in his hand to feel the fabric, bushing his fingertips along your thigh. You shivered and looked down at his hand, leaving Steve to marvel at your eyelashes across your cheeks. Then, you looked back up at him and reached up to feel his beard.

“So is this. Been meaning to tell you.”

Steve’s new-ish whiskers were somehow stiff, but soft, and you let your fingertips linger against his face, eyes drawn to his lips, made even more red by the strawberries off the cake. You licked yours unconsciously, thinking of that 7 minutes in heaven last summer.

“So… what do you want for your birthday?”

You reluctantly withdrew your hand from his face and sat back on your knees, hands on your thighs. For some reason, that made Steve hot and bothered. He considered you.

“Today has been great. The food, the drink, the cake.”

He grinned.

“”Great’, but not ‘Perfect.’” 

You cocked your head at him and Steve wanted his hands on you. 

“What would make it perfect?”

Steve grabbed the bottle of champagne and took a swig because you hadn’t gotten any glasses.

“It’ll never happen.”

Your interest was piqued.

“Never say never, Cap.”

Was Steve drunk, or was your voice more sultry? He shook his head, partially to clear it, and partially in denial.

“I think I can say never with confidence on this one.”

You got up on your knees and grabbed his arm.

“C’mon, please, please, please! It’s your birthday. I’ll do anything to make it happen, pleaaaseeeee!”

You bouncing up and down begging on your knees made Steve’s reserve snap.

“I want to kiss you.”

You stopped moving and your mouth hinged open. Then you licked your lips. 

“Ummmmmm….”

“That’s what I thought.”

Steve took another swig.

“Can’t do that. You’re Buck’s girl…”

Your reticence evaporated at the mention of James Barnes.

“Fuck Bucky.” 

And you threw yourself at Steve, causing him to drop the bottle, then blindly feel for it, making sure it was upright before pulling you into his lap.

The kiss was less innocent than the first, all lips, tongues and teeth, even biting as Steve sought to possess you. You found yourself grinding on Steve’s bulge as year old memories of what his casually swinging roommate cock looked like flashed through your mind.

Then you stopped, moved off Steve’s lap and lay back on the table cloth, eyes closed and hand on your heaving chest.

“That was great.”

You chuckled and smiled, eyes still closed. You missed Steve’s eyes roaming over your prone body.

“Great, but not perfect?”

“I wasn’t talking about kissing you on those lips….”

Your eyes flew open the now dark sky and you turned your head to see Steve lying next to you, a pained look on his face.

“Steve…”

“I know… but… damn Sugar… I’m down bad for you. Always have been.”

You looked into those baby blues and you knew it was true. 

“I….”

Instead of saying what you wanted to say, you shifted and pulled your dress up slowly, causing Steve’s eyes to follow every move, and an unconscious groan to escape from his lips. When you revealed your naked core to him, he got up on his knees.

“We’ve got to make your birthday perfect, now don’t we?”

Steve gulped.

“Oh, Sugar…Sugar…”

He looked up at you, eyes dilated.

“You sure…?”

“Kiss me, Stevie…”

You let your leg fall open, and Steve’s hands were on you, pulling you toward him as he leaned down toward your naked bottom. He put his hand under your thigh and propped it up and over his shoulder.

His hot breath against your pussy lips made you shudder. He looked up at you.

“I knew you’d be pretty everywhere.”

You smiled and put your hand in his hair, scratching his scalp. 

“You’re so nice, Steve.”

He raised his eyebrow.

“Nice? I’ll show you nice.”

And he leaned down and liked your pussy, tongue sweeping into your sweet tang and setting his world on fire.

“Fucking delicious…”

“Languagggeeeeee… Stevie, fuck!”

You couldn’t handle it as he dove in and pulled and sucked your clit like taffy candy

Steve chuckled, then looked up at what he was doing to you. Your head was thrown back, one hand still grabbing his hair and the other on your breast.

“Look at me.”

You brought your head up to see him and then gasped as he spit on your pussy and then licked it up. 

“Shit, Steve…”

His mouth had disappeared into your cunt as you replied.

“T-ththat wasn’t very nice. In fact…”

You had to stop speaking because now Steve had brought two thick fingers up and had entered your slick passage. The way he finger fucked you while sucking your clit made your eyes roll back in your head. You had his hair tight and the tighter you pulled, the more he groaned and licked you up. 

You grunted through your orgasm, still cognizant that people might hear you.

After you came, Steve looked up at you and curled his fingers which were still inside you, making you slap your hand over your mouth as you keened behind it. That extended your orgasm and had you searching for air as Steve’s hand ran up your dress to squeeze your soft breasts.

“That was great, Sugar. But you know what would be perfect?”

You knew knew what was coming next. 

You thought.

“If you rode my face and came in my mouth.”

“Oh.”

You were sure that you looked like a fish the way your mouth stayed open in surprise.

You were sexy as hell to Steve Rogers.

He moved smoothly down to the ground and you took in the tent that was made through his khaki pants. You were a little disappointed. You wanted him inside you.

Steve chuckled and reached out his arms, grabbing for you.

“C’mere, Sugar, bring me that sweet, sweet sugary cream.”

You blushed, despite the debauchery you just participated in, and allowed yourself to be pulled up to Steve’s chest, your skirt fanning around him as he hooked his arms around your thighs and moved your skirt up for access.

“Now, I want you to sit on my face.”

“That handsome face with that big ass tongue?” 

You used to tease him about it all the time.

Steve smiled and nodded.

“Ummmhmmmm.” 

He stuck his tongue out and wiggled it.

“The better to eat you with, my dear.”

Then he turned and kissed your thigh. Next, his blue eyes bore into yours.

“Now, bring that ass here…”

You couldn’t help but obey as you raised up on your thighs and scooted up as he scooted down. He pulled you down so that you were seated perfectly on his face, his tongue spearing inside you. His hands held you apart as next he did a swirly thing and also a full lick from the top to the bottom of you, all the while watching you.

All shyness disappeared as soon you were grabbing his hair again and undulating on his mouth. Steve nodded and groaned, which encouraged you to go for the gold.

“Oh, my god, Steve…”

You fucked yourself on his face as he sucked and tweaked your clit, listening to his moans of pleasure. The thought that this is what he wanted to do on his birthday was getting you off.

Oh, and the stunning cunnilingus that this man was performing on you helped as well.

At first you thought it was your orgasm, but the fireworks that were lighting up the sky wasn’t from your own climax, but the thousands of dollars Stark paid for them. You allowed yourself to scream as you squirted into Steve’s mouth, and you collapsed over him as he scooted out, flipped up your skirt and licked you clean.

You lay shivering on the ground watching the lights in the sky as Steve lay down beside you and viewed the fireworks with you. 

He pulled you into his arms as you whispered, “What about that?”

You wiggled your bottom against his boner.

“That will get taken care of, one way or another.”

Steve leaned up and kissed your cheek.

“Right now, this moment is perfect.”

You smiled and relaxed, thinking that what you had given Steve was also a gift to yourself.

Stars sparked in the sky as you snuggled into Steve’s arms and Bucky turned away from the hedge, heading toward Romania.

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[omniblades-and-stars]

Don't Forget the Rules (A Game of Charades)

Wicked Game Part 2

Read on AO3

"I'm sorry," she whispered against his lips, and she meant it, despite the bitter taste on her tongue. Or because of it, rather. 

Poison. A toxin crafted specifically for her target, hidden in a little capsule beside her teeth. A trick she picked up from old spy vids. This trick was so much less dangerous in a world where her target didn’t have hemoglobin like her. At worst, she'd get hives and a violent stomach ache. She already felt sick to her stomach. 

Those endless pools of black galaxies staring at her, calm, serene. Even in the face of his upcoming death. It drove her crazy.

He drove her crazy. 

The way he was so good at their shared profession. He was the only one she'd ever encountered who could match her skill for hand to hand fighting. And he had this unsettling way of disappearing into shadows that set her teeth on edge. It bordered on supernatural.

It was also in the way he made her lose focus and make mistakes. The way his voice thrummed through her body, like a song that hit just the right notes to make her skin prickle and a shiver roll down her spine, igniting more than just desire.

The way the low light in the room shimmered across brilliant scales, made so much more vibrant in the familiar haze she was under the influence of. 

He didn't say anything to her. Didn't fight her. He didn't even try to stop her from leaving. And he didn't beg for his life.

He never begged for his life.

She gathered her things quickly and slipped out into the surprising, nonstop daylight of the Citadel wards. The lack of a true night cycle made her miss Earth ... sometimes.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as she darted away to disappear into the crowd of club-goers waiting in line by one of the many loud, blacklit clubs there. She told herself the tears were just from the sudden, intense light. Definitely not the unsettling guilt worming its way through her guts, gnawing on her ribcage, sharp like a vulture's beak. 

No. Absolutely not. Like hell did she feel guilt over him. How many times had his blade kissed her skin? Almost as many times as his lips. 

Sure, she'd tried to kill him first, and several times after that, but he played the game just as much as she did. Their games had rules, they fought each other "to the death" before they eventually ended up naked and blowing each other's minds. Or, they started with the mind blowing to try to get each other's guard down and made the attempt. 

She had just been following the rules.

No. She didn't miss him already. Or at all.

Ever.

And she didn't regret it.

The Shepherd wiped her eyes again and pushed bodily past a group of tittering asari maidens.

“Excuse me! You spilled my drink all over my dress! This is genuine leather,” one of the women called after her.

The Shepherd pulled a credit chit from inside her jacket and turned back to the group of women. She placed it in the woman's soft hands and looked up into beautiful golden eyes. “I'm so sorry. It's just ... oh,“ she brought her hand to her mouth and choked back more tears. ”Sorry, sorry. My boyfriend just broke up with me, and... God, I'm so embarrassed.”

The woman pushed the chit back into The Shepherd's hands, “Oh, no I'm so sorry, sweetie. Please, don't worry about it.” The asari leaned in close, "Do you want me to go find him and rough him up a little with biotics?" Her breath was heavy with asari brandy.

The Shepherd giggled weakly and shook her head, "No. I mean, it would be funny, but he's in C-Sec and it would be a whole mess." She made a show of sniffling and trying to clean her nose on the sleeve of her jacket and offering a weak smile.

Why was she even doing this?

She couldn't help herself.

"By the goddess! You're bleeding!" One of the other women exclaimed, grabbing the edge of The Shepherd's jacket and pointing at her chest.

She looked down to see scarlet spreading across the front of her glittering yellow shirt. 

Clever. Fucking. Drell.

Between the medigel anesthetic effects after their battle, and his venom in her system from …

Well, she couldn't really be surprised she hadn't felt one of his insanely sharp knives. They were like scalpels. Stupid mistake. She'd gone toe to toe with other assassins before, and never almost got killed so easily as she did with him.

The Shepherd grabbed her ribcage dramatically before hunching over. "Oh my God! He stabbed me! Please call the paramedics, I don't want to die!" She wailed for effect. Hopefully she wasn't actually bleeding to death. It would be so embarrassing if he managed to get her like that.

She also really, really didn't want to die. 

This job had been a lot of work to get to goal. She ran herself ragged all over the Citadel to make her alter ego someone who could be counted on to get things done. And to show a real pride in civil service and other vomit inducing garbage like that. She ran errands for cranky ambassadors, sad, past-their-prime generals, argumentative hanar, made herself useful to some C-Sec detective running an undercover op, and even promised to look into some asari diplomat's kidnapped sister.

Something she wasn't going to do. That crazy bitch was lying through her perfect, beautiful teeth. The Shepherd knew a liar when she met one. As the old saying went, “Game recognize game.”

Also, she was not actually an Alliance Marine in charge of a starship. She just spoofed and updated old credentials, fed them into the Alliance’s personnel records systems, and infiltrated C-Sec systems and added false records of her arrivals and departures on the station. Child's play, really. 

All to earn the trust of her target, a retired turian C-Sec captain who was apparently looking for an ambitious young person to mentor, and she was just that person. Her last tour was almost up, she was growing tired of life on spaceships. She was looking to join the civilian sector once she was officially out, but she just really wanted it to be an honorable job. And didn't you know you have to have recommendations and approval from the Council to join?

They often met in a park in the Presidium to play chess, or rather, he thought he was teaching her chess. She wouldn't have even bothered with actually doing all of the work she had done to gain his trust, but her research into the man showed that he was thorough and slow to trust. If she couldn't fake the paperwork, so to speak, she needed people to back her up.

It would certainly have been easier to just scope and drop the man from the keeper tunnels and catwalks. Or break into his apartment and slit his throat in his sleep. Or poison his food. Any plethora of much easier, quicker methods. 

Well, she was definitely going to poison him, but not without spending some time with him first.

Maybe that was fucked up, but it was about the challenge. The risk of getting discovered, the thrill of having to improvise when things went wrong, the adrenaline rush when it turned into a battle. If she wanted a job that was formulaic and safe, she'd have gone into varren wrangling, hedge fund management, or joined the Eclipse Sisters instead.

"How was your day, Nora?" The older turian asked as he moved one of his pieces. She wasn’t really paying attention to what he was doing on the board. It was much easier to pretend to be bad at the game if she let her mind wander.

The Shepherd sighed forlornly, propping her elbow on the table and resting her cheek in her palm as she made her move. “Well, I helped out the Consort like you asked. She’s a lovely woman, by the way, thank you for introducing us, Quintus. But while I was running all over the Presidium to help iron out that whole debacle, I had an … interesting encounter with a diplomat.”

The man hummed gently as he watched the board, “Tell me about it.”

“Well, this asari woman waved me down while I was stopping to chat with the bartender over in the Embassies, Wilson. He knows all of the people to talk to around here, so he’s a great resource,” she started to explain. Wilson was mostly just a great resource of overpriced cocktails and the sort of conniving gossip that The Shepherd loved to listen to. Even if she was never going to meet the subjects of their talks.

“Anyways, she tells me that she heard about how I was helping Sha’ira and that she needed my help to rescue her sister, who had been kidnapped.” She moved a pawn, and he captured it immediately. “She asked me to keep it hush hush because she already paid a ransom to secure her sister’s release, but the pirates just took it and are blackmailing her now.”

“As I understand it, diplomats are required to report any attempts at ransom or blackmail to the Council.”

“They are, but that’s not what rubbed me the wrong way,” she started, then she shifted uncomfortably before adding, “Well, not the main thing.”

The old turian looked up at her and met her gaze with piercing blue eyes. His brow plates shifted, furrowing in an inquisitive way before he asked, “And what is it that bothered you about it?”

“How exactly did she know I was helping Sha’ira?” The Shepherd gave Quintus a meaningful look with a raised brow. “I was discreet, I only spoke about the job with those involved. And given how embarrassed two of the parties were, I doubt they spoke of it at all. And I also doubt that the Consort would be as popular as she is if she made a habit of disclosing information like that to people unless she had a very good reason. I don’t take her for a gossip.”

“She is not. She holds many secrets.”

“Precisely. So this diplomat says she’s being blackmailed, and somehow knows what I’m doing. I think she’s lying about something, and she definitely has her pretty blue fingers in systems she shouldn’t.”

More pieces moved around the board, and she lost track of what she was doing while watching a couple get into an argument close by. “So what did you do about it?”

“Reported her to the Council, of course. Besides, if the Alliance found out that I ordered my ship to fly out to some barely inhabited planet to fight pirates for some random diplomat, they’d be very upset. And rightly so.” She sighed again, “I may be ready to leave the military, but I would like to have my integrity intact when I do.”

“You have a very keen intuition, Ms. Carlson. If your skills at chess leave a little to be desired.“

The Shepherd smiled as the turian crowed his checkmate. “I guess I just don't have a great head for this kind of strategy.”

“My dear, these are just pieces on a board. Anyone who tells you that being proficient at chess means you're proficient at real world strategem is a liar.”

She lifted her head off of her hand and began moving the pieces back to their original places on the board, “There are some people on some extranet message boards that would be very angry to hear you say that. Another game?”

“Not today, Nora. I have some errands to run,” he answered while shaking his head. “Listen, I'm having dinner this evening with a private sector investigator, internal affairs for corporations, that sort of thing. I think you have a knack for sniffing out corruption that would make you a brilliant candidate for that sort of work. Would you like to join us?”

“Oh, that would be greatly appreciated, but I would hate to intrude. An unplanned guest is almost never as welcome as they like to believe,“ she responded with a cheeky smile and a wink.

”Nonsense! Truthfully, I already let him know that you would be joining us.“

”Quintus, you conniving, old bastard!“ The Shepherd said playfully and reached across the table to push his shoulder back.

The old man smiled, ”I saw an opportunity open up for you, my dear, and I took it. It's all very casual, I assure you. We aren't even going out, we're meeting at my apartment in four hours.”

“I will be there on time, and not a minute before, sir.”

The Shepherd walked into Quintus' apartment, following his explicit instructions to let herself in, and was immediately simmering in anger. The old man sat on his couch casually with one leg crossed over the other. It would have been a relaxed aura he was giving off, if his neck wasn't broken, head hanging graphically at an unsettling angle. And if there wasn't a smug fucking drell standing in prayer in front of his body.

”Oh, fuck me,“ she groaned as the door slid shut behind her. She punched the hololock, ensuring no one could walk in on her unplanned showdown. 

“Is that a request?” The bane of her existence asked dryly without turning to her. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and goosebumps rose on her arms. It had been three or four encounters with the man since their last, nearly deadly meeting here on the Citadel. And each time, he threw her off balance more and more. 

She took two careful steps inside, as though she were navigating an active minefield. “You. You're the 'private sector investigator'?” She asked, choosing to ignore his question (and the urge to say "yes") entirely. Anger rose hot in her chest, and flushed her cheeks.

”A deception to get close to Mr. Stratis. He is a very careful man, and very difficult to get close to,“ the very irritating, achingly beautiful man explained as he finally turned to face her. A small, smug smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Greens and blacks covered his face and head in beautiful iridescent scales, and large, black eyes watched her twitching hands, waiting for her to draw a weapon, or throw him back with biotics.

"Krios, please tell me you did not use me to get close to this asshole!" Her voice went shrill as she pointed at the worldly remains of Quintus Stratis, respected former C-Sec captain, and to some, a renowned pervert.

And not the fun kind.

Thane Krios, professional assassin, and expert thorn in her side, shrugged his shoulders, "I've been monitoring his extranet activity and messages for quite some time. Imagine my surprise when a military personnel verification request turned up with a file bearing a photograph of you. It was a simple matter of figuring out what game you were playing this time, and inserting myself as a player. A trick I learned from the master of such schemes." He bowed his head deferentially to her, like it was a compliment, and not the worst thing in the entire universe. Outplayed at her own game, by him.

He was trying to send her over the edge, and she knew it. And what was worse, it worked. Her response was an incomprehensible yell that started out as "Fuck you,” and descended into utter nonsense as her body ignited with biotic power. She ran towards him, wanting to wrap her hands around his head and watch as she cooked his brain down to a lovely cerebral fluid reduction.

Thane sent her sprawling backwards with a subtle thrust of his fist. A blue globe of light met her stomach with a force that winded her, and she fell back over Stratis' coffee table. Some rounded decorative piece dug up in between her shoulder blades, and made her cough. “Asshole.”

“Shepherd, you are sloppy when you forget yourself,” he chastised her as he drew in close. And she allowed him to.

Once he'd gotten close enough, she drove the heels of both of her boots up into his abdomen, forcing him several stumbling steps backwards. Quickly, she rolled over onto her feet again, and took a defensive position. As Thane recovered, she grabbed the globular object, a bronze replica of Palaven perhaps, and hefted it right at the drell's head.

Irritatingly, he threw up a barrier as he righted himself, and the projectile went bouncing off. It fell to the ground with a loud thunk. Suddenly, her skin prickled hot, and the extremely uncomfortable sensation of thousands of tiny needles ripping, tearing, and crawling over her flesh overwhelmed her. She could feel the thin membranes in her sinuses breaking down before a trickle of blood dribbled from her nose. 

Tit-for-tat. She concentrated past the pain blooming all over her body and threw a warp field at the assassin in return. Thane's lips curled back as he clenched his teeth. The Shepherd saw her opening and jumped towards him, landing in a crouch right under his anticipatory blow, and she swept her leg out, hooking it behind his foot and pulling.

The man's lifelong training to become a near perfect killing machine was not lost on her as he shifted his momentum and used it to drive his palm hard against her sternum. 

It felt like her lungs got forced through her ribcage and sent out of her body for just a moment, and her throat locked up around the sudden lack of oxygen. She stumbled back just enough to give him space to advance on her. She dodged around one strike, took a kick in the side, and then grabbed both of his wrists, yanking him forward.

Just as she was about to use the forward momentum to pull him stumbling past her, and hopefully to the ground, frantic fists started beating against the apartment door.

"Quintus! Quintus, are you alright? What's happening?" The two assassins stared at each other, wrists held in hands, frozen as though they'd both been enveloped by a stasis field. The panicked knocking continued, "Quintus! If you don't answer, I'm calling C-Sec!"

"Vents?" They both asked simultaneously at a whisper, looking up toward the large vent grate in the hall.

The Shepard released Thane's arms and nodded resolutely before adding, "First split off, I go right, you go left."

"Agreed," he confirmed as they both darted toward the vent. Without another word, he knelt and held out his interlaced hands for her to step into. With a boost from her sudden ally in escape, The Shepherd unlatched the vent and crawled in. 

She turned and thrust her hand out and helped pull him in, though in reality, he probably didn't need the help. Near as she could tell, the man had a ten foot vertical leap. And that was probably only a little bit of an exaggeration. As Thane pulled the grate shut behind him, he whispered, "I am surprised you did not simply leave me."

"What and let C-Sec be the ones to take you down? Keep dreaming, Krios," she replied as she began to crawl through the vent shaft. "It's going to be me who does you in, or it's going to be no one."

"If I did not know better, Shepherd, I would say that you're possessive of me, " he said smugly from somewhere behind her. His voice vibrated the thin metal sheeting beneath her fingertips, adding even more tactile sensations to the absolutely filthy ways her body already responded to it.

"Of having the great pleasure of ending your life? Absolutely."

Horrible, awful, beautiful, delicious, rumbling laughter was his only response. Why was it so easy for him to slither into her head and turn anger to something else? 

"Fuck you, Krios."

He was in her head still. They split off like planned without another word. It had been hours and somehow he was still in her head. 

The Shepherd found herself in a club in the lower wards. It was the kind of club with too dark lighting, and probably a list of health and safety code violations light-years long. And where absolutely everyone was wearing black leather and vinyl adorned with a dizzying array of metal chains, spikes, rings and anything that added a touch of risk of harm if you got too close. It was the kind of place where at any given moment there was someone in the bathroom smoking, fighting or fucking. Or some confusing (satisfying) combination of all three.

She could feel the tacky residue of someone else's black lipstick smeared across her lips, she couldn't even remember whose lips put it there, and the remnants of cheap eyeliner and mascara, melting from the heat of her body as she danced, rehardening in the creases of her eyes. She could have been there for minutes or hours, it was impossible to tell. She was lost in the music. The heavy, grungy distortion of the guitars scraped inside her mind, drowning out her conflicting, inconvenient thoughts. And the bass?

Oh, the bass. 

It thundered in her chest, felt like it changed the rhythm of her heart. It punched over her skin like an electric shock, rattled her teeth, and settled heavy in her spine. It enveloped her in a blanket of sound that she felt more than heard. And it blessedly robbed her of the memory of the way his voice overtook her senses, raised the hair on her arms, made her shiver. 

Made her yearn. Lust, she could deal with, but actual wanting? A need for someone to actually know her? That was dangerous.

The flashing strobes that filled her vision with stutter-stop dancers, and the oppressive, humid warmth of strange bodies against her were almost enough to make her forget that ache that was in her chest. 

She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms over the shoulders of the stranger pressed against her, and allowed herself to get pulled into the undertow of the slow, driving waves. Soon she found herself sandwiched in between two people, the heat of the space, and her own body, growing just shy of unbearable.

It was perfect. 

She didn't even care when arms wrapped around her from behind filling the miniscule space between bodies, and familiar, fused digits roamed over the bare skin of her stomach, deliciously cool compared to the blinding heat of her sweat drenched body. Or when soft, smooth lips pressed gently against her neck, murmuring lurid promises against her pulse that she couldn't hear, but God, could she feel. And suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to let him fulfill them.

It was easy to pretend they weren't who they were under the steaming water of a hotel shower, the lathered bar of soap long forgotten next to the drain, and her back pressed against cool tiles, and the tingling, citrusy taste of his tongue in her mouth. 

It was easy to forget the way they destroyed each other with the way she floated, nerves alive and hungry for every reverent touch. He whispered prayers against her skin as he explored her, treating her body as his temple. As though she were something worthy of devotion.

It was hard to feel wicked surrounded by satin sheets with someone so beautiful bringing her higher and higher with every movement. A glittering mosaic of emeralds and onyx breathed the only name he knew to be hers in her ear, and she fell into the obsidian abyss of his eyes with a soft whimper, holding onto him as though he were the only thing anchoring her soul to her body. A body that was writhing and overwhelmed by pleasure, and still her voice returned to beg, "Yes, Thane. God, please, more."

God wasn't listening, if he existed at all.

But the assassin, he was always willing to oblige her whispering pleas. Every brush of lips against her fevered skin, every answering moan rumbling against her chest, every scraping bite at her throat, and every careful graze of talons on whatever part of her he touched overwhelmed her senses and sent her plummeting over the edge again, dizzied and breathless, and chanting his name like an ancient hymn.

It got harder to imagine in the afterglow. As they lay in each other's arms, tracing each other's scars. He always asked about hers, and she always told outrageous lies about them, even the ones from him. Lies like, "Oh that one? I got drunk and challenged a pyjack to a fight! His handler taped glass to his silly little paws." Or "Oh, you know me, so clumsy. I was walking on Omega and tripped in a pothole, landed right on the bent edge of an old shop sign." He always told her the same stories about his, the truth, near as she could reckon.

Tonight, he gently scratched her scalp through her short, Alliance-regulation bob as she ran her fingers over the soft, rosy ridges on the side of his chest. Their charade was almost over, it wasn't safe for either one of them to drop their guard enough to fall asleep. "What is that?" He asked, suddenly breaking the lull that had fallen over their little game of scars.

"Hmm?" She mumbled without looking up, still sluggish and terribly entranced by the sensations playing out beneath her fingertips.

"The song you are humming," he clarified, pressing his lips to her hair.

Her cheeks grew unbearably warm, and almost certainly terribly red. "Was I humming? Doesn't sound like me." 

He responded with a low chuckle, "Do not think you can lie your way out of this one, little darling. I can feel you humming."

She was quiet for precious seconds before her mouth opened, and the truth fell out without her say-so, "It's a lullaby. My mother taught it to me. It's about the only thing I remember of her."

"It must be very distressing to remember so little of her." Of course, the drell would think that.

"It can be. But it's for the best. It's better that I can't imagine her. It makes what I do easier without the specter of parental disapproval hanging over my head," she answered, lying again. She grew quiet before her humming returned, and before she knew it, her mouth was opening again. Whispered lyrics came out, tight in her throat, "The other night dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamt I held you in my arms. When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken. So I hung my head, and I cried."

I have no one.

She felt hot tears gathering along the edges of her eyes.

"I should go," she said suddenly.

And just like that, the charade collapsed.

He was in her head in ways she couldn't get a grip on. It went so much further than their psychosexual rivalry. It had been months since Quintus, and she felt like she was genuinely losing her mind now.

Who could she tell, other than her contacts and other assassins, what she did for a living? And if she could keep up a double life long enough to form a lasting friendship, much less any sort of meaningful romantic entanglement, whose life would she put in danger by doing so?

The Shepherd was on Nos Astra for a pretty simple job, really. During the research and preparation phase of the venture, she had a string of good to disappointing flings and one night stands. The worst was actually the time she tried staying the night and seeing the same person more than once. And not because the sex was bad.

She made it three separate overnights before that came to a horrible, upsetting end. For her. The girl was probably alright, if a little disappointed. They'd only known each other for a total of two weeks.

The Shepherd was laying on the girl's bed, Lirae, or maybe Lorae, something adorable like that, staring off into space. Her thoughts were light-years away, going over her plans, running through mental checklists for setting up her new identity, and running the risk analysis on how boned she would be if she got discovered and had to engage in a fight with a former asari commando. And she definitely was not thinking about him. And she definitely wasn't thinking about him in a way that didn't have anything to do with murdering him. 

"Shepherd?"

Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes flew open. Oh, were her eyes closed? She looked with furrowed brows down at the very pretty blue face looking up at her from between her legs. Oh, were they having sex? She forgot. "What did you just call me?"

The woman cocked her head and crawled up next to The Shepherd, apparently the endeavor was a lost cause. "Your name. Shirley, right? Are you okay? You looked like you were in pain."

She let her head fall back into the pillow and covered her face with her hand with an exhausted groan. "Sorry, yes, I'm fine. Just very distracted, work has been a lot lately." She was very suddenly remembering why she only ever went to bars and clubs during the planning phase. She was too steeped in it to be able to do much of anything else.

And why had she chosen a name that had a "sh" sound? Rookie mistake.

Lirae snapped her fingers and then motioned for The Shepherd to roll over onto her stomach. And she did, exposing the scarred expanse of her back to far too much scrutiny. The lithe young woman knelt over her and started massaging the Shepherd's shoulders. "Tell me about it?"

"Not much I can say about it. You know how ironclad Illium N.D.A.s are." Bless Illium contract law, it was always the easiest cover. "Let's just say my boss has me spinning a lot of plates, and keeping them all in the air has been difficult."

The woman currently doing positively sinful things to the muscles that made up The Shepherd's upper back giggled, "What does that even mean?"

"It's a complicated balancing act, I mean."

Lorae hummed her understanding as she continued to reduce The Shepherd to a puddle with masterful hands. Her finger traced a jagged scar just under the Shepherd's shoulder blade. "This looks painful, what happened?"

The Shepherd cocked her head to the side, "Back in my freelancer days, I went head to head with the largest vorcha I've ever seen. He carried an improvised knife made out of the broken remnants of a barstool and nails that he called Gut Ripper," she lied, saying the name of the imaginary weapon in the characteristic hissing growl associated with the spiky aliens.

The asari gasped, "That sounds awful!"

Oh, she believed her? That was no good. Lirae was too sweet, too naive. And fuck, too good at whatever it was she was currently doing to the Shepherd's spine. Magic maybe.

This wasn't going to work. Guilt wormed its way into her head. And the lies felt isolating, and cruel. This girl would never know who she was, and that was for the best. 

But it also kind of sucked.

Later that night, when Lorae was firmly asleep, The Shepherd slipped out. She actually left a note. There was a first time for everything.

L.

I'm sorry. You don't deserve to get tangled up with me. My name isn't even Shirley. Keep being sweet, someone else will come along who actually deserves it.

P.S. - Go into massage therapy immediately. You'll make a killing. 

"I'm going to the restroom, I'll be right back," the very handsome man sitting next to her at the bar winked before disappearing into throngs of over-dressed party goers. 

The Shepherd fiddled with the heavy, sapphire earrings hanging from her ears as her eyes darted around her. All around her people were dressed to the nines, shimmering fabrics draped on arms, false laughter from painted lips, and expensive drinks in every hand. There was even a dance floor, where they played classical dances from many species and cultures. Bright lights dazzled across glittering jewelry, and everything just oozed excess.

She was no stranger to these sorts of high-society Presidium parties. Rich people hired her to kill each other at these sorts of events all the time. One time, she had three targets in one party, and managed to get them all without raising any alarms until she was long gone. But it was different when she was an actual guest. There wasn't a target, there wasn't a job. She was just supposed to relax and enjoy a night of luxury in her expensive, rented, ocean blue, chiffon dress.

Right, relax. 

It felt like a trap.

Too much time passed, and she assumed that her date had abandoned her for someone who was in the mood for pretending to be interested in following him back to his hotel room. She tapped the bar top with manicured nails until she made eye contact with the turian bartender who took the hint and approached.

"What can I get for you?"

The Shepherd cocked her eyebrow and planted her heels over the bottom rung of the barstool, standing to lean forward on the counter and scope out the plentiful offerings of top shelf liquor. "I want a lot of that vodka," she pointed at a bottle of clear liquid behind the turian. "And I want you to mix it in a big glass of cranberry and pineapple juice. I'm talking about the kind of glass I need two hands for, krogan size at minimum. I want it to be sweet, and I want it to wreck me."

The bartender raised an amused brow plate before turning to grab the bottle of vodka from the shelf, "Not used to these kinds of parties, I take it?"

She sat back down on her stool, straightening the lines of her dress and messing with the heavy necklace around her throat. "Plenty used to them, but I still manage to feel out of place. This isn't my world, people just like how I look in it."

"Why come if you don't enjoy it?"

Because I'm usually working. 

"I always think, 'This will be the time I enjoy it.' The only thing I enjoy about these is how drunk you can get on the alcohol they serve here."

He slid a comically large brandy glass filled with red-orange liquid over to her. He even put a straw and a tiny little umbrella in it with a mischievous wink. "You humans have a saying, 'The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result'," He advised sagely before turning away from her to go attend to some demanding heiress pouting because her champagne wasn't bubbly enough.

Shepherd sat sipping on her drink and trying to read liquor labels from her seat for several minutes. The vodka settled in her stomach, pleasantly warm, while the cranberry-pineapple medley masked the awful taste of the liquor.

"What is the old human saying? What is a girl like you doing in a bar like this?" That velvety baritone slithered up next to her, bringing a strange sense of comfort and relief. She'd officially lost her mind to admit that was the case. 

She snorted, and spit her drink back in her glass. A wide grin cracked across her lips. She grabbed a cocktail napkin and delicately dabbed dribbles of juice from her lips and chin. "Is that the best pickup line you have, Krios? No poetic metaphors for pussy-eating, or promises of boundless pleasures that somehow border on religious heresy?"

He took the seat next to her and leaned in close, brushing tendrils of her dark hair behind her ear as he whispered, "I can promise that you will be praying to me while I take my communion between your thighs."

There went the hair on her neck and arms again, betraying his effect on her. And the tops of her ears felt hot. "Filthy, wicked, devil of a man," she sniped as she took another sip of her drink. She set it down carefully on her left side, far away from Thane's clever, quick hands. "Which of these lovely party goers is your target tonight?" She asked as she spun on her seat to face him.

He was wearing a suit that shimmered as he moved in the light, like he was wearing cloth made out of the fabric of space itself. It was just like him to wear black nearly head to toe at an event like this. What did he need ornamentation for when his skin glittered like starlight?

"He is already quite dead," he responded. "And your target?"

The Shepherd picked up her glass again and took a noisy sip from the straw before answering, "No one. I'm a real, honest guest tonight." She searched the room for any sign of her erstwhile companion, and found none. "I had a date, but I think he may have thought I was an escort until I told him I was going straight home after this. He ditched me to "go to the bathroom" almost half an hour ago now."

"Tall, human man? Dark, curly hair and startling eyes the color of emeralds in the sunlight?"

She coughed, abandoning the straw and downing the rest of her drink in one obscene gulp. "I wouldn't have put it quite so poetically, but that is-was him." She shook her head, "That's a new one. You've never killed one of my dates before."

Thane hummed thoughtfully, "If it is any consolation, he was a vile man. And you were correct, he did not go to the bathroom."

The Shepherd shrugged her shoulders, "I am entirely unbothered. I didn't even know him really, not sure I could tell you his name."

"Now, I know you're just saying this to vex me. I do not believe that human memory is quite so fallible."

She smiled and winked while reaching for his hands, "What does it matter? Not like I was ever going to see him again anyways. Now, since you killed my companion, and you've already propositioned me, you're my date now, and I want to dance."

He laughed as he allowed her to pull him to the dance floor. Her cheeks were warm, and her muscles pleasantly loose. His hand fell to her low back as they took their place among the small collection of dancers stumbling over the steps of dances that fell out of fashion centuries ago. "You have taken great pains to hide your weapons beneath that dress," Thane remarked quietly in her ear. 

The Shepherd laughed, shaking her head as she did. "Already told you, I'm not working tonight. I didn't bring any. No blades, no poisons, civilian omni-tool and … you don't believe me." The realization curdled in her stomach. Because why would he believe her? She wouldn't believe her. "Nevermind. I don't need weapons or poisons to kill someone anyways. You're not the only one here who can lodge a fountain pen right through the death center of a turian's brain, or find a neck to snap on an elcor."

"I think I would like to see you snap an elcor's neck. Your arms are so slender, and you are so small. I think you would need to employ the use of a complex system of ropes and pulleys to accomplish this," he deadpanned.

"You calling me short, Krios?" The threat in her tone was entirely ruined by the way she pressed herself in close to him and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Hm, I am indeed," he answered with a smile as he led her in circles around the floor.

After several minutes, The Shepherd looked up, "Let's get out of here. I actually hate parties like this. What do you say we ruin this dress together?"

She felt the chill of the metal before she felt the searing agony of the cut. The Shepherd clutched his arms, her fingernails digging deep into his skin. She looked up at him, stunned, disbelieving … terrified. It was deep, so very deep, she couldn't speak. She felt blood, warm and thick spilling down to her chest. "Why?" She tried to ask, but no sound came out.

"We can't keep doing this. This is the last time," he whispered to her, like he was wishing her a tender good night. Not sending her to his precious oceans, if she was lucky. Hell, if she was not. He caressed her cheek like he actually cared about her.

Thoughts came juttering through her venom adled mind all at once and they crashed through in torrents.

I didn't tell any lies tonight.

I'm going to die.

I'm so scared.

He didn't believe that I wasn't going to try.

I have no one.

I don't want to die.

I'm going to fucking die.

I forgot the rules.

She didn't want to die.

[strawberrystepmom]

old flame, same glow

pairing: sex worker toji fushiguro x f!reader

word count: 6.1k

about: old feelings spur you on a wild journey of paying for sex with your high school crush but you find out in the process that maybe those feelings aren't as long forgotten as you thought.

contents: nsfw - mdni. no curses au, reader and toji are similar in age (i imagine reader to be late 20s/early 30s and toji to be early/mid 30s), oral sex (f receiving), lots and lots and lots of pining from reader, reader is very pathetic it's very sad but she's my most special meow meow.

notes: this is a repost of the sex worker toji au on my old blog - full and final, with pretty extensive edits to make it flow better. i was personally asked to repost and who am i to say no? be warned tho, for being a fic about sex work this is surprisingly sexless and for that i apologize but i wanted to focus more on the feelings rather than the smut.

thank you for your support and for reading and i hope you enjoy it!!!

dividers are thanks to @/saradika

“Is it because I’ll never be him?” 

The words your now ex-fiance spit at you during that fateful last fight echo in your mind as you splash cool water over your face, the strap of your purse sagging over your shoulder. A sigh escapes as the droplets run down your nose and lips. 

Him. Toji. The man became a constant issue in your relationship that never seemed to reach resolution the moment you admitted to a one-sided crush you had on him years and years ago, long before your fiance entered the picture. You hadn’t spoken to him since before his first marriage and only knew about his life through social media and occasionally running into each other at the grocery store but your ex took exception after a single cursory glance through Fushiguro’s photo sharing app feed, each picture one of him with his shirt either lifted at the bottom or so tight you can make out each and every divot of his defined core.

Exhaling out of your mouth, droplets go flying against the surface of the bathroom mirror and you fight the urge to scream or cry or maybe both looking at your soggy reflection. You’ve never felt more pathetic in your life and now the outside matches the inside.

The memory couldn’t have surfaced at a worse time and it forced you to excuse yourself from the polite man sitting across from you in a crowded restaurant, shifting through the too small gaps between tables and refusing to make eye contact with anyone else currently sitting in the restaurant as he watched you retreat. 

He was introduced to you by a coworker who spent most of the week wondering why you haven’t put yourself back out there after a year of single life, but you regret saying yes. Not because you don’t enjoy his company - he’s smart, quick witted, and handsome which are all things regularly you’d be enchanted by. 

Truthfully, you know it’s because he isn’t him either.

Digging your phone out of the pocket of your dress, you sigh and open your most recent conversation thread. The bold letters of his name stare back at you, an F in a circle above his last name. Fushiguro.

Free later?

Toji texted you earlier today, while you were still at work, and you opted to ignore him in preparation for tonight. The intention was to clear your mind of distractions or any entanglements you may have lingering, even those with almost unimaginably broad shoulders and green eyes that twinkle mischievously with every salacious wink and smirk he tosses your direction but you didn’t realize you’d fail your mission before 9 pm. 

The sun has only barely set and here you stand in the bathroom of one of the nicest restaurants on this side of the city planning to meet up with your high school crush to pay him for sex. 

Perhaps pathetic is too light of a word for how you feel but you don’t make eye contact with yourself in the mirror for long enough to think about it, gaze darting back down to the backlit screen in your palms.

Your thumbs begin to work before your mind can catch them and you stop yourself, brows furrowed as you press down to highlight the text and delete it altogether. Rubbing your free hand over your face, you sigh and glance down at the text bubble indicating he’s typing on the screen.

You know I can see you typing and deleting?

A knock on the bathroom door makes you yelp as you look over the message, dropping your phone in the still damp porcelain sink with a clatter while uttering low curses under your breath. You hear your name from the other side of the door and in your rush to grab and dry off your phone, you slip the droplet covered device back into your pocket and rush toward the door to see the waitress assigned to your table standing there.

“Uh, he asked me to come let you know that he paid the tab and you can go.”

Panic rises in your chest and your stomach turns as you gaze around her shoulder and look around the restaurant, spotting the table you were just sitting at with its unoccupied chairs.

“Fuck,” you spit before gnawing on your lower lip and the waitress watches you as one would witness a slow motion car crash - incredulously, as if this is something she has never seen before. Part of you wonders if she hasn’t ever seen a woman struggling this close to her, the youthful round of her cheeks convincing you she can’t be old enough to have a lot of life under her belt. 

You shoot her an apologetic glance and she nods curtly.

“I’m sorry you had to do this,” your voice is muffled by your own shoulder while you dig through the purse and pinch out a banknote with enough zeroes to make her happy. You think it’s a 10,000 yen note but you can’t be certain and the embarrassment of the evening is carrying your feet toward the door too quickly to verify.

The door spits you out into a balmy evening but you don’t notice, filling your lungs to the brim with fresh air that feels restorative despite the heat. Patting around your body, you ground yourself with the knowledge that your phone is in your pocket. Pulling it out, you click your tongue at the new notification alert on the left side of your screen and exit your conversation with Toji to look at it.

The number isn’t saved in your phone but the words make you hiss as you look over them, shame making your face heat in a way that a warm summer night cannot even begin to replicate.

Hope dating gets simpler for you. Have a good night.

Sighing, you dawdle for a moment wondering how to respond, shifting your weight from foot to foot. People pass you on the street and you worry they’re going to start to wonder why you’ve been standing in front of the restaurant door for so long, dejectedly staring at the glowing screen in your palms.

Taking a few steps, you begin to walk in the direction of the train station and exit out of the conversation with your date, opening Toji’s contact info and holding down on his number until you hear your phone dialing him.

“Was wondering when you’d get back to me,” he doesn’t hesitate to speak as soon as he picks up the phone and you feel a flurry of butterflies erupt in your gut the moment you hear him. This is so bad, you contemplate with the click of each of your steps. So so bad. “Where you at?”

Humiliated, you dare to feel almost a little comforted by how happy he sounds to hear from you. You’re certain that this is how he sounds with all of his clients, everyone who hires him for a good time, but you want to believe so badly it’s just for you. The lilt at the end of his sentences that you know mean he’s smirking, one corner of his mouth turned up. 

“Do you want to hear the truth or to hear a carefully made up lie?”

He chuckles on the other end of the phone and you wish you could listen to no other sound for the rest of your life.

“Tell me the truth. You’ve never been a great liar.”

A deep exhale deflates your posture and your gaze snaps to your feet as you make your way off to the farthest part of the sidewalk, your voice lowering to keep some shred of your dignity intact. It’s bad enough you’re venting your frustration to the man you pay for sex, you don’t want to think about how mortifying it would be to have a stranger overhear your woes.

“Well, I was on a date and got walked out on so now I’m heading toward the train station.”

A sympathetic hum and shuffling come from the other end of the line, Toji absentmindedly flicking the lighter he keeps in his pocket while you speak. The silence, no matter how momentary, makes you feel awkward and your brain leaps to overcompensate.

“Did you still want to meet? I don’t have a ton of cash but I do have time.”

Another chuckle. You hate that you feel like it’s directed at you rather than to be shared with you and the hot flush of embarrassment makes you reach for your sleeve with your free hand uncomfortably. It was too hot to wear this dress. It was a stupid idea to even come out but his voice keeps your rapt attention, his next words making you genuinely smile for the first time in hours.

“I can’t make you pay full price after getting walked out on. Come over, we’ll work it out.”

Thanking your lucky stars, you shut your eyes tightly and use every ounce of willpower inside of you to keep yourself from crying. Moisture pools at your lashline and you choose to ignore it, relaxing your jaw as you respond.

“You mean it?”

He hums affirmatively and you feel the butterflies in your stomach travel further south at the sound.

“Wouldn’t offer if I didn’t. See you in thirty.”

The call drops from the other end, your phone beeping to signify the ending but you can’t keep a giddy smile from creeping across your face as you press your phone against your chest and open your eyes. Looking up at the twinkling stars above, embarrassment gives way to something you haven’t felt in so long outside of these meetings with Toji that you wonder if you’re about to have a heart attack or something equally disturbing - the familiar flush of affectionate love. 

The unimpressed gaze of your coworker follows you all the way to your desk as you make your way through the rows of desktops on Monday morning. You shrink beneath the weight of it, the wool of your pencil skirt suddenly itching more than it ever has while brushing against your legs with each step. 

She must have heard about how well your date went.

The text message sent from the man still sits, unanswered, in your phone. Shame sits like a brick in your stomach and you keep your head down, even as you sit and the hydraulics of your chair squish beneath you with a “whoosh”. Bouncing back up, you refuse to make eye contact as you get settled, logging in.

“I am never setting you up again,” she spits in a hushed whisper as soon as you sit down next to her, pulling her can of coffee away from you and setting it on the opposite side of her keyboard. 

“If you weren’t ready you should have just said so.”

It’s not like you can defend yourself. You weren’t and remain unready to see anyone else yet it didn’t stop you from immediately stuffing bills in Toji’s hand, legs still shaking while he helped you button your pants and sealed your goodbye with a wink and a kiss on the forehead.

This time, though, was the first time the two of you kissed outside of sex and you’re still reeling. Head fuzzy as you recall the way his scar felt brushing against you for more than immediate sexual gratification. Soft lips, firm flesh, warmth. You swear you feel a ghost of the kiss itself as you sit, surrounded by buzzing overhead fluorescent lights.

The two of you have had sex a dozen times now, once a month your usual schedule, but this time felt different. Maybe it’s the fact that you paid less than usual, maybe it’s the tender way he placed kisses from the underside of your breast clear down to your mound, watching your every move with those glimmering peridot eyes. 

“Are you going to say anything?”

The accusatory voice of your coworker interrupts your reverie and you blink before turning in your direction with your head bowed. Words stick in your throat and you aren’t able to swallow so you mumble a simple “sorry” with nothing further. She scoffs and turns back toward her computer, typing loudly to indicate her annoyance as you click around your desktop.

“He walked out on me, to be fair,” you finally come up with after falling short on a near infinite amount of apologies in your head and she turns once again to stare at you. Her gaze burns and you shift in your seat, the same shame you felt at the restaurant weighing your limbs and keeping you pinned in place.

“He left because you were in the bathroom for 15 minutes with no explanation.”

She scoffs and shakes her head, typing away for a moment before turning toward you again, still unfinished with her thorough lecture about the wrongs you’ve committed. Your body still feels heavy, frozen with embarrassment of your own making, but you manage to sigh and fold your arms over your chest unenthusiastically.

“I was hoping you’d at least tell me you had an accident or something.”

Without thinking, you laugh the hardest you have in awhile and several heads peek above their desktops to glance at your unusual display. They probably think you’re losing your mind and if you were to be frank with yourself, you aren’t convinced that isn’t exactly what’s happening.

You are fantasizing during work about a man you pay to have sex with, pretending you’re anything more than a client with a little cash to blow and he’s a man with a lot of free time and a natural gift for cunnilingus.

Hiccuping, your laughter subsides and your unimpressed coworkers return to their tasks, the one sitting next to you still eyeing in a way that is borderline venomous at this point. You don't blame her, though. You fucked up and can't bring yourself to own up to it when your head is too wrapped up in remembering every peak of Toji's arms wrapped around you.

How the fuck did this happen?

She says nothing further, instead turning to her computer and leaving you to sit staring at the blinking cursor on the screen in front of you. You can unpack every single choice you've made since 16 right now and it still wouldn't lend any clarity as to why you are willing to fuck up every relationship around you for the sake of sleeping with a man who you mean nothing to.

Of course, you don't know that, but it's a safe enough assumption given the dynamic itself.

You swallow thickly, pride sliding down your throat like something you may choke on, and turn your chair toward your coworker.

"I handled it poorly and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry I embarrassed you."

She scoffs, dipping her head low.

"The only person who should be embarrassed here is you."

Accepting the criticism, the truth, you plaster a smile across your face and nod once. Any argument you may have tied together at another point in your life dies and you instead turn back to your work, looking at the little clock on the bottom corner of your screen.

9:15 am.

So many hours left for shame to simmer between your ribs, a molten pool of your own failure to swim around in until you drown.

The lewd pop of Toji releasing your clit from between his lips and your panting are the soundtrack playing through his otherwise quiet apartment. Darkness envelopes both of you, so insatiable by the time you made it back here there wasn’t time to turn on the overhead lights. 

I need to stop, you think in the afterglow of another orgasm delivered by the impressively skilled mouth of the man whose green eyes are fixed on your face. You take in the sight of him, chin and lips soaked from your last release that drenched him. 

“Never seen ya do that before,” Toji remarks from between your thighs. Your muscles twitch on either side of his face and you giggle weakly, tired from being thoroughly fucked and devoured. He places a kiss on your inner thigh, eyes fluttering shut briefly as he does so. 

You want to reach out and stroke his cheek, softening with every ounce of care he gives; the way his thumbs assuredly massage the outside of your thighs. It’s all so…tender. It feels like it's meant for a lover, someone you wanna fall asleep beside and rise with in the morning.

Something meant for you and someone else.

If you weren’t so tired you’d already be gone. Instead you groan softly as he rubs a final pair of circles on your skin and sits up, wiping his face across his bicep. He stands and he feels you looking at him, scoping out every nude sculpted inch of him. How is it fair that he not only fucks like a god but looks like one too?

Truly, some people get all the luck.

“Somethin’ on your mind?”

Shrugging flippantly, you let yourself melt into the comfort of his bedding, getting too used to feeling it beneath you at this point. You've increased your visits from once a month to once a week, twice if you're particularly stressed, and he certainly will never turn down a chance to make some good money.

"How many clients do you have?"

The question leaves your lips before you can really think about the implication of what you're asking but he chuckles, pulling a pair of athletic shorts and nothing else over his softening cock. You can still make out the print of it clear as day and it makes your face heat, looking away and feigning interest in the peeling skin around your unkempt cuticles.

"I'm sorry, that was intrusive," you clarify, gaze flicking up from your nail beds to where he fills two glasses of water from a pitcher on the bedside table. You dare to indulge yourself by continuing to look at him rather than away, his hair falling in his face.

For the briefest moment, you think you'd like to be the person to brush it off his forehead forever but he turns to you with a smirk and holds out a glass of water before you can go any further into the delusional fantasies your mind keeps providing to you without asking.

"Why are you asking?" He drinks after asking, finishing his glass in one gulp and setting it back down next to the pitcher. You take the glass extended in your direction, sipping to try and wash down the lump in your throat before it can fully form. "You like me or something?"

Immediately you shoot up, hauling the blanket over your naked form ready to explain away your questioning and he sits down on the edge of the bed with a smile, reaching out and grabbing your covered thigh with one of his hands.

"I was just kidding, don't get jumpy."

Fighting the urge to fidget, you stay sitting up and sip from the water cautiously again, small mouthfuls at a time to keep from feeling overwhelmed. You're so anxious despite having cum so many times you truly lost track and Toji wishes he didn't find it so amusing that after all these years you still manage to be as neurotic as he remembers.

You were a good girl back then, scared of getting caught running around with the delinquent, but you still puffed each time he'd hold the cigarette to your lips. You still tagged along when he would skip class.

He wondered what happened to you when the two of you lost touch. Figured you'd ended up married with a kid or two like him, waiting for the next day and getting through it to the best of your ability.

He was shocked when you messaged him from your social media profile, the photos displayed on your page less than interesting. You standing in front of a shrine on vacation, you smiling next to your family on your grandma's birthday, you looking lonely with a smile that never reached your eyes in photo after photo.

The rest is history, as they say, and you rush to fill the silence.

"Curiosity got the best of me, that's all."

"Five."

You look up, reaching across the bed to slide the water onto the table beside it and he keeps his gaze fixed on you.

"Four occasionals, one regular."

Eyes widening at his words, you point to yourself.

"I'm your regular?"

He hums and nods and you take a moment to process the information for what it is. A surprise, certainly, and you can't quite figure out how you feel about knowing he sees four other women even if it is just occasionally. Logic smacks you in the face as you realize you hardly have the right to feel jealous over him doing his job but you let that feeling turn in your head for a moment, wondering what he'd do if you admitted how you felt to him.

Would he stop seeing his other clients? Would he let you take their occasional spots, making sure he's making the same amount of money regardless if it's all coming from you?

"My occasionals don't live in the city so we only meet up when they're in town."

Why he feels the need to explain himself is as lost on him as it is you, your head tilted to the side in confusion. Can he tell this is what you need to hear to quell your own wandering mind or is he simply indulging you to ensure that his regular stays a regular? You hate to think the worst of him, knowing he's a good man beneath the antics he has always managed to get wrapped up in, but the ever shifting boundaries between the two of you get less and less comfortable with every session.

"How about you?" He asks while you slide your knees up and tuck them into your chest, his hand falling to the side in the process. "You paying anyone else for sex?"

Giggling, you shake your head. It's embarrassing to even be asked, your desperation as apparent as your skin itself, but you feel like if there's anyone you can joke about it with it's the man whose face is still sticky with your release.

"Nope, one is plenty. I'm not rich, you know."

He quirks a brow and crawls onto the bed, making his way to hover above you with a smirk and that same hair hanging over his eyes the way you always seem to see it in your daydreams.

Without thinking, you reach up and brush it off of his forehead, your fingers gliding across the sweat slicked skin of his face. You look at him for a moment, the way he looms above you, and your stomach turns.

This is too much. Your fingers tremble gently as you trace them over the bridge of his nose while dragging them off of his face, hand flopping down at your side while you struggle to shift from beneath him to get out of the bed.

"You alright?"

You nod and he backs away, sitting across the bed rather than lingering over the top of you. Sliding your legs off of the bed, you stand and feel him looking at your back as you bend and scramble to grab your clothes.

"Yeah, just realized it's super late."

Hurriedly pulling your pants up over your legs, you stop when you realize he hasn’t stopped staring at you since the moment you left his bed. His gaze burns and you wither beneath it, burning out like a shooting star as you stand still as a statue.

“Just stay,” he offers as if it isn’t the most self destructive option you could possibly choose. Stay and what? Chew on your nails the entire night until the sun finally rises and you can blissfully leave? Watch morning cast a warm glow over his sleeping body while birds chirp outside?

A persistent echo of the word idiot dances through your head as you briefly consider his suggestion, wondering if it would truly be so terrible to bury your head against his side and sleep soundly for the first time in months.

You can’t do this. The night feels suffocating, like it’s smothering you rather than enveloping you gently, and you pull your pants all the way up and fasten them while throwing your shirt over your head and pulling it on in a surprisingly fluid motion.

“I gotta go. Thank you for everything.”

Bustling out of his apartment, Toji watches your back head toward the door and can’t help but feel as if that was your final goodbye, gone in a flash the same way you returned to him.

Hey stranger, what's up?

The latest in a series of ignored messages pops onto your screen before you can close out the notification, today marking 21 days since the fateful night you cried in the back of an overpriced car the entire way back to your apartment leaving Toji’s behind you.

The messages are all the same - nonchalant and non committal, unspoken business proposals - but you scroll up through them anyway with a broken sniffle. How you’re still managing to cry over this three weeks later is beyond your own understanding but your fingers reach out to brush the screen of your phone regardless, just as they did the smooth skin of his forehead that fateful night.

Life has been normal without him, you reason. You go to work, keep your head down, come home and fall asleep in front of the TV. You’ve been too depressed to even masturbate but you’ve tried, crying through the measly two orgasms you’ve managed to pull out of yourself halfheartedly.

Part of you wishes you’d just die and end this misery once and for all, the other wants to die thinking of how someone would feel looking at your browser history. “Green eyed guy big dick”, “big dick DILF” , “toji big dick”, the terms thay would haunt you enough you worry they’d emblazon them on your headstone if you were to perish.

It’s dramatic, sure, your world has imploded in on itself more than once already but this hurts with the intensity of three broken engagements. Your heart feels like it could give out at any moment and it nearly does when your phone begins to vibrate and ring. Dropping it to the floor below, you sniffle again and feel another round of sobs bubble up in your throat at the name on the screen.

Toji Fushiguro. Clear as day.

You let it ring and ring until you know your voicemail will pick up and you’ll delete it. Fuck, you should really delete his number as a whole but even that feels too permanent.

How did it hurt less when you left your old apartment with an empty ring finger and a few boxes full of your meager belongings than it does to ignore a man you paid for sex?

Truthfully, you know it was never about the sex and you were treading in deep dangerous waters from the start.

You love him.

You loved him back in high school when he was a bad influence, you loved him when you’d open your hidden photos folder to stare at pictures you screen captured from his social media as soon as your fiancé rolled over to fall asleep, you loved him hovering above you with moonlight illuminating every shadow of his face.

This is the worst thing that has ever happened to you and through a flood of hot tears, you close out the open adult website on your phone and pull up a search tab, typing the words that will lead you to listings for apartments for rent as far away from here as you can possibly get.

Your time here is done and you know it, the ding echoing from your phone letting you know you have a voicemail almost sounding exactly like a timer would but you look at the notification anyway.

It's curious he left you a voicemail but you watch as your screen loads from the browser to the one unopened message in your mailbox. Taking a deep breath, you press play and hear his voice drifting through the speakers.

"Hey, uhh...I dunno what I did to piss you off but maybe we should talk about it. I'll be at the usual spot tonight if you wanna meet. Hope to see ya."

It ends as unceremoniously as it started and you cry harder, rewinding to start it over again. Listening to his voice, you trace your fingers along the screen of your phone a final time before deciding to take him up on his offer.

Closure will only help this process, you think, ending it all and closing this chapter for good.

“Look who it is.”

You recognize the voice coming from behind you but refuse to turn in your chair to greet its owner, instead sipping from your cocktail before tossing your napkin down unceremoniously. 

This isn’t your first time at this less than reputable establishment but you hope it will be your last, ready to get away from the shit in this city you wished you would’ve left behind a long time ago. Him included.

“Toji,” you toss from over your shoulder and the man himself enters your peripheral vision. Refusing to give him the smug satisfaction of turning to look at him, you simply nod and begin to tear the napkin you tossed down into little pieces. You’ve always loved how easy it is to transform things with your hands, from whole to broken and back again. It reminds you of yourself in a strange way.

“I could make some time for you,” Toji sucks his teeth and you roll your eyes at the sound. “If you want.”

A shake of your head is all you offer as you continue to throw bits of paper in front of you, a small pile of bits, all that remains of what once was whole. The metaphor dies as you think about it and you sit quietly as he settles in beside you.

“What would it cost me this time?”

Toji shrugs, the already clinging fabric of his short sleeved shirt gripping him tighter with the motion. You swallow thickly seeing the muscles move from the corner of your eye. He’s gorgeous and you hate it, reminding yourself that loneliness is what led you in his direction in the first place. Or at least you’re still trying to convince yourself of that.

You wish you could have stuck to your guns when you promised yourself you’d stop seeing him.

“I can make a deal for my favorite even if she has been avoiding me lately.”

A laugh escapes before you can stop it and you turn to look at him, taking in the deep jade color of his eyes and the dark lashes that frame them.

What point did you start looking for the mischievous little sparkle that lives inside of those irises? What point did this become more than transactional?

You always have and it never was.

You sigh, tipping your head back to look at the dim modern-attempt-at-vintage overhead lighting and he sweeps his large hand across the bartop to sweep your bits of napkin into his palm. 

“No charge, actually.” 

Making a show of considering his offer, you squirm uncomfortably at the boundary that has been firmly broken by it. He has given you discounts, sure, but to offer a completely free no strings attached session is almost more than you can reasonably deny. You have been suffering in his absence, self imposed exile keeping you locked inside of your apartment when you aren’t at work. You aren’t dating, you aren’t fucking, you’re just trying to exist as simply as possible.

Even the most upright girl needs to have a little fun sometimes, though, you think. Especially since this will be the last time before you go and leave him to his life. You have no place in his world and he no place in yours, two paths that intersected briefly but have to diverge eventually the most the two of you will ever be.

Despite your better judgment, you look at him with a bittersweet smile and he finds the look puzzling. There’s still the ever present softness you hold for him deep in that gaze but there’s something else he hasn’t seen before. 

His heavy stare makes you interrupt with a question. 

“What did I do to deserve a free one?” 

He shrugs, dropping your bits of napkin into your drained lowball glass where they soak up what’s left of the water. The cycle into something new begins again. 

“Feelin’ generous. You in or not?”

Dragging it out for a moment longer, you wonder if you should tell him this will be the last time. You’ve known him for such a long time there’s an element of obligation but you shrug it off and rise from the barstool, smoothing down the fabric of your pants.

“Fuck it. Let’s go.”

Toji doesn’t bother to hide his smug half smile, tossing down a few bills to cover your drink. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you start and he cuts you off as the two of you walk so close your shoulders brush. “Told you I’m feelin’ generous, quit making me regret it.”

He’s teasing but you flinch a bit at his words despite yourself. 

What if he regrets this? What if it hasn’t been as mutually beneficial as you originally thought, you’re just another face with disposable income that wants to see what it feels like to fuck a man with reckless abandon? Isn’t this why you walked away in the first place?

The what ifs will drive you crazy if you keep it up so you let the cool night air clear your mind, gasping as he pushes you against the driver side door of your car.

“Toji,” you warn but his hands glide up your sides and you lift your chin to expose your neck, his lips and teeth easily finding the column of your throat. The vibrations of your voice feel good against his mouth and you yelp as he scrapes at your skin using his front teeth. “Someone could see us.”

He scoffs and lifts his face away from your neck, lips mere inches away from yours. 

“Would that be so bad?” You nod emphatically and he rolls his eyes, dark brows knit together as he considers what you’re saying. “Ashamed to be seen with me?” Your shoulders slump and he presses his lips against yours so quickly you wonder if you imagined it and you sigh.  “No, I’m not. Just would rather people not know I’m paying some dude I used to go to high school with to fuck me.” 

There’s too much truth to your words for him to argue so he simply leans in against, pressing his lips against yours for a moment longer than he previously did. You feel the corner of his lip rise, a little smirk, and you wonder what’s on his mind.

“Don’t seem so ashamed when you’re screamin’ about how you can feel me in your….” he feigns thought for a moment and you feel your face heat, knowing what he’s about to say next. “What is it you always say? Ah, yeah…tummy.” His lips press against yours again and you kiss him back this time, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and wrapping his dark hair around your fingers. The two of you separate before the dry humping starts, catching your breath as you wipe remnants of chapstick and saliva from your lips.

“Get your ass in the car before I change my mind, Fushiguro.” 

He smiles at the sound of his name on your pretty lips. There’s no going back now and he knows it as he squeezes your ass once before rounding your car to enter the passenger side. A glance up at the night sky allows you a moment to clear your mind before you enter the vehicle yourself, shutting the door behind you as you fire up the engine. 

Something new begins again, the night revealing thing you know to be true.

You love him too much for this to be the last time.

[robboyblunder]

Re-using my previous commission pages because they're still good/accurate, but reposting to get more eyes on them! I recently finally graduated college meaning I can have my commissions open more often (with exceptions for breaks, life events, etc.);

because I was really focused on graduating I missed out on a lot of work earlier this year I would usually take on, so I'd appreciate sharing so I can try to make up for it!

Link to my full TOS will be in replies, with ID in ALT text; I've also included a transcript for the pages under the cut!

title card:

Robboyblunder commissions.

To inquire: Email me at comission.robboy@yahoo.com or DM me on tumblr via robboyblunder.tumblr.com.

page 1: price page for sketches, line art, and flat color drawings.

Sketch prices: Bust $15 ($5 per additional character), waist up $20 ($10 per additional character), full body $25 ($15 per additional character).

Line art prices: bust $20 ($15 per additional character), waist up $30 ($20 per additional character), full body $40 ($30 per additional character).

Flat color prices: bust $25 ($15 per additional character), waist up $35 ($25 per additional character), full body $45 ($35 per additional character).

page 2: price page for simple shading and full rendering/shading.

simple shading prices: bust $35 ($25 per additional character), waist up $40 ($30 per additional character), full body $75 ($60 per additional character).

full render and shading: bust $45 ($30 per additional character), waist up $65 ($50 per additional character), full body $95 ($80 per additional character).

page 3: Price page for backgrounds.

Simple and transparent price: free.

medium detail price: $15 to $45 depending on detail.

rendered and detailed price: $50 to $75 and more depending on detail.

page 4: character design prices page. the text on top reads “get a custom design from scratch. starts with base price that includes front and back full body with flat color. extra can be added at higher cost (such as busts, extra details, etc.).”

a note reads: “Note: incomplete character references for non-design commission will still result in a design charge (relative to how much needs to be designed). This does not include changing minor aspects of a design i.e. clothing, hair color, etc.

full character design prices: $180 to $200 and up depending on detail.

mini or toon design prices: $45 to $80 and up depending on detail.

page 5: price page for minis and toons as well as rules.

Mini and toon simple price: $20. mini and toon complex price: $35.

RULES:

you must read/accept my TOS and pay via invoice only!

payment is upfront before work begins (unless discussed otherwise for comms over $100). no refunds for completed art!

Full references are required for characters, otherwise a design fee will be incurred. (read details in linkes TOS).

respect me, have patiences, don’t haggle prices; it breaks my TOS.

more detail = higher cost.

major/medium revisions past sketch stage will incur extra fees (read my TOS for more info).

will draw: humans/humanoid, robots/cyborgs, armor, monsters/creatures, animals, furry/anthro, mild injury/blood/gore (if you have questions, please ask!).

Won’t draw: anything offensive/bigoted (racism, homophobia, sexism, etc.), NSFW, realistic/heavy gore, certain fandoms (can change at my discretion.

I have a right to refuse any commission for any reason!

[goldenseresinretriever]

Snitches Get Stitches: Chapter 6

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Jake Seresin, golden boy of the NHL and Captain of the Dallas Stars makes headlines when he unexpectedly signs with newly-formed San Diego Dogfighters. When your future seems at the verge of crashing down, you receive the opportunity of a lifetime to become the team physician for the Dogfighters. You never expected to be working directly with your favorite hockey player. Jake has a secret and you have a job to do. Will he be able to trust you enough to help and will you be able to trust him with your heart?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, violence, sports violence, medical stuff, blood probably, angst, fluff, (eventual) smut, forbidden romance, sexual harassment, suggestive language, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: This is a repost of my completed series, Snitches Get Stitches. It was originally posted in October-November 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You pull onto Jake’s street at 7:05 on Monday morning, barely suppressing a yawn. You’d originally planned to show around eight since the two of you weren’t expected in until nine but Jake had texted you last night asking you to come over earlier because he “needed help with something.” He’d also explained that the garage would be open for you to park inside. You know that has nothing to do with safety since no one in this neighborhood looks desperate enough to steal your piece of junk on wheels, so you wonder absently if Jake’s ashamed of having said vehicle parked in his driveway. On second thought, maybe it’s simply a privacy measure in case the paparazzi come snooping for a peek into his personal life.

As you catch sight of the familiar beachfront property, you note that the garage is, in fact, open. You suppress a snort, rolling your eyes as you pull into the garage and see the newly added, hand-painted wooden sign at the front of the space designated for you. Bright green letters announce it as “the carrot patch” complete with crudely painted carrots adorning the rest of the plank. You absently wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into. After your conversation with Jake on Saturday night, you’d agreed to be friends, but part of you is starting to become lightly concerned with exactly what Jake’s definition of friendship looks like.

You park and head back to the front door, ready to tease Jake about the sign when he opens the door and every thought in your mind flies out the window. He’s wearing an apron that says “Grillmaster” in flaming text over his pajamas.

“Mornin’ Bugs, ready for business?” His grin is wide and infectious and you roll your eyes. It’s way too early for him to be so cheerful.

“You’re in a good mood.” His eyes dance playfully as he wraps his free hand around your arm, the other wielding a spatula, pulling you inside where Pudding dances around behind her owner, just as excited to see you. You drop down to give Pudding a big hug, not minding as she slobbers all over your scrubs. Jake moves past you towards the kitchen. Pudding pulls away from you, dancing on her toes as she looks back to make sure you’re coming with them.

The kitchen smells amazing and you watch Jake as he flips pancakes with one hand and sips coffee with the other. The scene is endearingly domestic as he looks up from the pan to where you’re awkwardly standing in the doorway. He smiles, using his chin to direct you to the barstools across from him as he asks, “How do you like your coffee?” He nods in the direction of the coffee machine to his right.

“Oh…” You hesitate as you sit down on one of the stools. “I don’t.” You give him a nervous laugh. “I’m a matcha girl.” He just nods, smiling at you.

“Duly noted, Bugs. We can stop somewhere on our way in.”

You shake your head, waving him off. “It’s fine, Jake. I don’t need one every morning, I only really make one when I have time.”

“We have time today.” He gives you a gentle shrug as he passes you a plate with three pancakes.

“Thanks.” You blush softly at the fact that you’re here, sitting in Jake’s kitchen, discussing your favorite morning beverages while he’s cooking you breakfast. “Speaking of time, why’d you ask me to come over so early? You mentioned you needed help with something?” You take a bite of the pancakes and barely suppress a groan at the tangy burst of blueberry that coats your tongue. “Jake, these are amazing.”

He chuckles at your reaction before he sighs, leaning on the counter slightly. “Pudding needs a walk and I’m supposed to be on leg rest so…” He trails off and you can tell he doesn’t like having to ask you.

“Sure thing, Jake, I can take her out.” You reach down to scratch Pudding’s ears where she’s sitting on the floor next to you. “You don’t mind, do you, Princess Pud? We’ll go on a walk while your dad gets some rest, yeah?” She snuggles up to your hand and you don’t think she minds at all. “I’ll finish these up and we can get going.” You pause, thinking. “Jake who took her out over the weekend?” You’re trying your best to keep the accusation out of your tone, but you ARE his physician after all. He just chuckles in response.

“Javy did, don’t worry. I’m adhering to all your rules, Bugs.” You nod.

“So you talked to him?”

“Yeah, I talked to him. He deserved to know before the rest of the team. We usually tell each other everything, at least until now. He’s my best friend…” Jake looks at you ruefully. “I can’t lose him.” The TOO is implied in his eyes and your heart aches.

“How’d he take it?” You ask carefully.

Jake’s face lightens at that as his lips curve into a smirk. “He offered to move in.” You choke on your pancakes, giving him a bewildered look. Jake offers you a glass of water you hadn’t noticed him fill. After washing down the chunk of pancake lodged in your throat, you’re back to glaring at Jake.

“And you didn’t think to take him up on that?” You were here in his kitchen at 7 am and you could be asleep in your bed. Jake’s face twists in disgust.

“Just because he’s my best friend doesn’t mean I want to live with him. The last thing I want is for my house to become a revolving door for puck bunnies because he refuses to grow up. And if any of them saw me?” He shakes his head. “News of my injury getting out before we make an actual PR announcement sounds like a nightmare and a lecture from Zam that I’d rather avoid.” He shudders. You nod slowly. He’s not wrong. Javy Machado may be a sweet person and a good friend but the man was notorious for being more than a little cavalier in his personal life. He was frequently pictured leaving games or bars with a woman or three on his arm.

Admittedly, however, Jake had been similar during his early years. He and Javy were a dynamic duo on and off the ice from college through their time together in Arizona. Both had been surrounded by women and yet neither had ever been in public committed relationships. After leaving the Coyotes, however, Jake had seemingly aged out of his playboy ways. While his popularity had only continued to skyrocket once he joined the Stars, the photos stopped.

“So,” you start and Jake arches an eyebrow in your direction to let you know he’s listening as he flips another pancake effortlessly. “You used to be like Javy, and who would blame you, you’re a celebrity, but why’d you stop I guess? Was it just what you said, you grew up and Javy didn’t or…?” You trail off, not really sure why you want to know, but hey if a secret wife and child are about to walk into the kitchen to help themselves to pancakes, you’d like a heads up.

Jake shrugs. “I guess I ‘grew up’ if that’s even what you call it. In the beginning, it was so exciting, all the attention, the women, et cetera but at the end of the day I’m in this gig to do one thing and that’s play hockey.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re good at it then.” The comment slips out before you can stop it and Jake smirks at you.

“Damn Bunny, you a fan?” Your heart skips as he shines the full force of that charismatic media smile on you. You can’t let him get to you, though.

“Contractual obligation, remember?” You wink. He chuckles at you bantering back.

“You gonna keep that excuse up and the next thing you know, you’re wearing my jersey opening night.” He winks back and your cheeks are flaming. Little does he know it wouldn’t be the first time you wear his jersey. You’re not sure how to respond so you give Pudding’s head a muss and stand up.

“We should get going. Be ready to go when we get back or else we’re going to be late.” Jake chuckles at your deflection but waves the two of you off, collecting your empty plate and depositing it in the sink beside him, replacing it with his own.

***

When you and Pudding get back from your walk, Jake is on the couch, attempting to tie the shoe on his bad leg, awkwardly bent over the straightened limb. He’s clad in a Dogfighters tee and athletic shorts. What really throws you for a loop is the plastic tiara on his head that proudly reads “Passenger Princess.” You roll your eyes before crossing the room to drop into a squat by his foot. He looks up, surprised, as you take the laces in your hands, tying them for him, before sitting back on your heels.

“You ready to go, Passenger Princess?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a smirk tugging at your lips, but his face is still an expression of quiet awe.

“Y-you didn’t have to do that.” His cheeks are dusted with the prettiest shade of pink. Your smirk melts into a soft smile at the sight.

“Yeah, but I wanted to. Plus, you’re a princess right?” You give his knee a gentle pat over the brace as you stand, smirking at the tiara. “You ready to go?” You hold out your hand to him and he doesn’t hesitate to take it, not breaking eye contact as he lets you help him up. You grab the strap of the duffle bag next to him, making to hoist it onto your shoulder before it almost takes you down. You’re off balance and about to tumble when Jake grabs your waist. “What the actual fuck do you have in that bag, Jake?” You stammer out as you try to ignore how your heart is pounding against your ribs. You convince yourself that it’s from the almost-fall and not because you’re currently pressed chest-to-chest with Jake, your head craned back to look at him due to the awkward angle.

“Bricks.” He half chuckles the words out but you can tell he’s flustered from the sudden movement too. “Here, I’ve got it.” He rights you, sliding his hand under the strap of the duffel, fingers brushing your shoulder as he transfers it to his own.

When you get to the garage, you face off with Jake’s truck once again. You shift nervously, not breaking eye contact with the behemoth. “Are you sure we can’t just take my car?”

“Nope.” He pops the P. Before going to open the door for you, tossing his duffle bag into the back. “Come on, Bunny, up you go.” You head over, defeatedly and Jake swings you up into the driver’s seat. You know you should probably just ask if he has a stool or something you can keep in the car but a small terrible part of your brain is addicted to the feeling of his hands on your hips, warm and solid, and the way the muscles in arms ripple as he swings you up like it’s nothing. While you’re lost in thought, he’s gotten in himself, before he holds out his hand to you, palm up. “Here, let me see your keys.” You pull them from your purse before tossing it into the back with Jake’s bag. He expertly slides a ring with two keys onto your larger collection. Attached to them is a green puffball with bunny ears that makes your lip twitch as he hands the keys back to you. You tear your eyes away from the keychain to examine the new additions to your keys. The spare fob for the truck, you half expected but the smaller key next to it is a surprise.

“Jake, you did not just give me your house key.” You look at him, incredulously. He shrugs like he gives out his house key to just anyone.

“You’ll be coming here every day, I might be in the shower and I don’t want you waiting outside. Plus, what happens if I fall and I can’t get up? Or some other kind of emergency. It makes sense.” You hate to admit that he’s right because it feels odd. You’re his doctor, and maybe his friend and now you have the keys to his car and his house. “You can argue with me later, Bunny, and I look forward to it, but we’re going to be late if we don’t get going. Turning the keys in the ignition, your eyes bug out as you see the numbers on the dash clock. He’s right. You curse under your breath as you pull out of the garage and Jake reaches over you again to click the remote for the door.

***

You make your way through the training area, towards the locker room. Jake’s called a team meeting to let them know what’s going on with leg and he invited you to come for moral support. Some of the guys, including Jake, are still lingering back in the gym, wrapping up their morning workouts. Your eyes are drawn to where he’s seated on a weight bench and doing bicep curls. “Hey, Hungman!” Your head turns to where some guy from the second line is calling out to Jake, your eyebrows twitching in annoyance.

“It’s Hangman.” You do your best to control your irritation as you correct the other man. Jake turns to where you’ve just come in.

“Really? Well, maybe you just haven’t gotten all the information, doc.” The other man smirks at you, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Because he’s most definitely Hungman.” He laughs at his joke. It’s not original by any means. It’s one of the many nicknames Jake’s attractiveness has earned him from thirsty puck bunnies. “Or do you prefer Bangman, huh Captain?” He rounds on Jake, expecting him to join in on the teasing but Jake shuts it down coolly.

“Just ‘Captain’ works, Lennox.” His green eyes are cold and shuttered and you fight the urge to cross the room and put your hand on his arm. He sets down the weight in his hand, standing. “Let’s go, we’ve got the meeting in five.” He makes no move to wait for the other man, heading over to where you’re waiting by the door, the ice in his gaze thawing as he gets closer. He doesn’t make any move to touch you and you appreciate his restraint because you can tell that he wants to in the barely there twitch of his muscles. “Thanks.” His voice is so quiet that you almost miss it.

“Don’t mention it.” You glance up at him, briefly. “We’re a team, right? We stick up for each other.” His mouth tugs up at that.

“Always.” He agrees and leads the way to the locker room. Most of the team has already gathered and are sitting on the benches. You linger by the door, present but not intruding. Maverick gives you a smile and a nod from where he’s standing in the back next to a grumpy-looking Cyclone, Zam, Nat, and the rest of the staff. Jake’s chatting with other members of the team as you wait for stragglers. Zam makes her way over to where you’re standing, grabbing your arm and dragging you over between her and Natasha.

“So,” she whispers, raising her eyebrow conspiratorially. “Word from Nat who heard from Javy is that you’re driving Golden Boy to work? What’s that about?” Nat looks just as curious.

You shrug nonchalantly as if it’s that simple. “He asked me to.” You nod towards the front of the room. “He’s actually about to explain that. Well, sort of.” Zam’s eyebrows fly straight up her forehead as she and Nat turn their attention to where Jake’s clearing his throat, standing at the front of the room. Every eye in the room is on him, but not on his face. He’s wearing shorts today and his knee brace is on display.

“So, I should probably just get straight to the elephant in the room,” Jake says and he’s wearing his biggest and brightest media smile, Zam should be proud. “I tore my MCL in June during playoffs. It’s been left untreated for the past two months until last week.” Chaos breaks out. The guys are shocked and next to you, Zam drops her clipboard as Nat’s lips are pulled tightly into a thin line. Silence falls again as Jake tells his team the same story he told you last week and the mood in the room shifts to somber. “I didn’t come to San Diego to half-ass this. Hockey has and is always going to be my first priority and that means being the best player and captain that I can be. I know I haven’t done the best job as either recently but I want to ask for the chance to start over. I’m going to be working with Bugs to heal as quickly as possible and if everything goes well, I’ll still be able to play in the season opener. Since I can’t be on the ice, I’m delegating leadership to our alternate captains, Machado and Bradshaw. Still, feel free to come to me with stuff, but they’ll probably be more available.”

Zam elbows you, jerking her chin towards the front of the room, indicating that you should say something. You begrudgingly squeeze your way to the front and Jake gives you an encouraging smile as you stand next to him. “I’m in the process of scheduling official tests to confirm my hypotheses but as of right now, my professional opinion is that Jake should be able to play in the opener or at the latest be able to come in by the second week. He’s going to be just fine.” You smile and pat his arm, gently. You and Jake field some questions from the team before he squeezes your shoulder in silent thanks as you head back to your spot in the back. Jake wraps up the meeting and Maverick and Cyclone start to head to the front of the room to make some closing remarks when the door to the locker room opens.

The room falls silent as Tom Kazansky steps inside, propping the door open behind him. He’s the owner of the Dogfighters and this is the first time you’re seeing him in person. He’s just as much of a hockey legend as Maverick and Cyclone and you think fondly of your dad as your heartbeat speeds up at the sight of Iceman. “Hey team,” he greets warmly. “Glad I could catch everyone together! I have an announcement to make.” He rubs his hands together. You glance at Zam and she shrugs. She’s just in the dark as you are. “There’s been some concerns raised about the current coaching situation we have here.” Your fists clench in silent fury. You know this is Cyclone’s doing and sure enough he’s wearing a satisfied smirk on his face as Maverick looks nervous next to him. Zam’s face is a mask of quiet rage as she does the same. Iceman’s eyes dance with humor, however. “So I’ve made the decision to bring on an assistant coach.” Murmurs rise among the players. Sure, most teams have multiple coaches but everyone can tell that something bigger is going on right now. “Without further ado, let me introduce you to your new assistant coach.” Iceman smiles, extending his hand to the open door. Your hearing goes muddled and you don’t hear the name he calls because you’re so dumbstruck by the woman who walks through the door. “…though you probably know her best as Dare.” Iceman claps the woman on the shoulder.

She’s wearing a smart navy blue suit and her hair is flawlessly pinned back from her face, the gray streaks in it tasteful. Her eyes glint as smiles out at the dumbfounded team. “Assistant Coach Dare Mitchell, reporting for duty.”

[justladders]

Hello! I’m Ladders :)

I'm just here stylizing some fnaf characters and mostly drawing the evil green rabbit like an animated villain.

Basically, I always loved animated shows and movies. They're why I started drawing when I was little, and I still watch and pull ideas from that kind of stuff to this day. Classic Disney's my fav, so you might see me talking about it sometimes. Anyways, since villains are my favorite and since I've starting drawing fnaf stuff, it's mainly been art of Springtrap, which you'll see a lot here.

If you're ever just looking for my art, the tag is #laddersarts. More tag stuff at the bottom of the post. Also, love asks, but please be considerate about the ask box, ty.

Do not repost my art anywhere, even with credit. I'm fine with it being used for things like a profile picture/banner as long as it is credited.

vv FAQ / TAG GUIDE vv

Q: What art program do you use? Krita. It's free and it "works," which is all I ask for.

Q: Do you do commissions? This answer will change around: currently, no. I've been meaning to, honestly, but just haven't felt collected enough to make a comm sheet and whatnot. Hopefully I'll be able to update this soon though.

Q: What are your other socials? I currently don't have any others, so if you see my art somewhere else, it's stolen :)

Q: Why do you draw [insert character] like that? I normally get this question about Springtrap, but I like to make designs that lend themselves more to 2D animation, which means simplifying a lot of things and hopefully still being able to get the point across. Too much detail and it becomes complicated very quickly. Fnaf animatronics/characters lend themselves really nicely to stylization because of how simple in concept they are overall. They're also left up to a lot of different characterization potential, not just from their simple designs, but the fact that they don't really get super hard-established personalities. Basically, all of that comes together into me enjoying taking a base concept and turning it into something you could potentially see in some older hand-drawn cartoon. As far as *specific* choices for how I draw *specific* characters, I feel like those would each need their own posts especially for Springtrap since I draw him the most. I know I'll have to make that sometime.

Q: Can I draw fanart of your designs? Of course! I'd just like to be credited and tagged so I can see it and reblog it :D

Tag Guide laddersarts and not my art - arts that I post or ones that I reblog (my art tag is all stuff since I got back earlier this year, art before that I just tagged as "my art") justtalks and talkin disney - indulgent tangents justfrens - things from peeps I know and whatnot answered ask - stuff from the inbox goofies - silly stuff midnight magma things - arts from group canvas drawing fanart for me :0 - fanarts of my designs!!!!! :0 present for springtrap :) - ask series where y'all wanted to give Springtrap something nice (there's a line formed and I just get to them whenever I'm up for it, but feel free to add to it) alt springtrap - art of goofy alternate versions of Springtrap I make sometimes: there's currently Vamptrap, Mothtrap, Jackotrap, and ERRORtrap (suggestive, eyestrain, flashing, gore, and all that stuff some people might not want to see I will hopefully remeber to tag)

[michaelsfavgirl]

‎‧₊˚✧[navigation]✧˚₊‧

˖⁺‧₊˚🎞️✮☎️✮🧸˚₊‧⁺˖ Welcome <3

Blog info, about me, masterlist, my socials, tag system, request rules & and taglist can be found here.

⁎₊✧˚ masterlist tiktok twitter wattpad AO3 ˚✧₊⁎

— If you want to be added to my taglist please comment under this post

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ Before you continue ⟡˚౨ৎ⋆

✎ᝰ! MDNI + DNI if you're racist, homophobic, sexist/misogynistic, transphobic, ableist, xenophobic, fatphobic etc. Any hate will be blocked/ignored. I will not tolerate any kind of discrimination.

✎ᝰ! English is not my first language, therefore, there may be minor mistakes in my writing.

✎ᝰ! This blog will include nsfw material, such as smutty fanfics or me just thirsting over mike lol. So viewer discretion is advised. If this makes you uncomfortable do not engage with my blog, simply block me and move on. Any negativity will be deleted.

✎ᝰ! Keep in mind that I am a university student so I may not be able to publish fics as frequently as you'd like. Be patient with me pls and thank you. (๑･̑◡･̑๑)

✎ᝰ! To add to that if your request hasn’t been answered it’s not because I’m ignoring it but probably because I have someone else’s (who requested earlier) to post before yours. Again, please be patient.

✎ᝰ! I hope you enjoy your time here! My blog is a safe, judgment-free space for anyone who chooses to visit.

✎ᝰ! I don't give permission for any of my works to be copied, translated or reposted in any kind of way and to any other platform.

✎ᝰ! The support and mdni banners are from @cafekitsune

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ About me ⟡˚౨ৎ⋆

✎ᝰ! My name is Kate, I'm nineteen, a Taurus and from West Asia.

✎ᝰ! I have been a fan of Michael Jackson since I was a child but I became a part of the fandom around 2019. My man is my no. 1 on Spotify every single year (yup, yup).

✎ᝰ! I actually had a book on wattpad about mike a few years ago and it was HURRENDEOUS, but I promise that my writing abilities have gotten better :)

✎ᝰ! Please feel free to send me anything in my inbox. (questions, requests, or if you want to simply chat anonymously) I would love to make friends on here and chat with my fellow moonwalkers! So don't hesitate. <3

Here are some random facts about me:

✎ᝰ! My hobbies: watching films, feeding into my delusions (writing fics about michael), playing the guitar, skiing, doing my makeup.

✎ᝰ! My top 5 musicians: Michael Jackson (obvi), Madonna, Queen, Nina Simone, Amy Winehouse.

✎ᝰ! My favorite films: Portrait of a lady on fire, Amelie, Mary & Max, The shape of water, The grand Budapest hotel and Knives out.

✎ᝰ! More facts: i LOVE cinema, it is an art form that should be cherished forever, professional procrastinator, reality shifter, fav color is green, big pop culture nerd, a little acoustic (autistic), addicted to watching edits on tiktok.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ Request rules ⟡˚౨ৎ⋆

✎ᝰ! For now I only write for mj.

✎ᝰ! I will write: smut, fluff, angst, fem!reader, plus-size!reader, most kinks tbh (just ask don't be shy), creampies, dp, somnophilia, ddlg (sexual and non sexual), voyeurism/exhibitionism, watersports, age difference as long as both are of age, threesomes (only mmf).

✎ᝰ! I won't write: male/trans/non-binary!reader, ocs (I only write x reader), hard kinks, knife/gun kink, scat kink, drug consumption, pedophilia, rape, breeding kink, pregnant!reader, pregnancy kink, incest/stepcest, mommy kink, sub!michael, pegging, dom!reader, abuse, degradation kink.

✎ᝰ! Requests are always open unless stated otherwise in my bio.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ My tag system ⟡˚౨ৎ⋆

✎ᝰ! For answering asks: annie’s calling

✎ᝰ! For my writing: kate's writing

✎ᝰ! For thirst posts: dirty diana

✎ᝰ! For misc. posts: wanna be startin somethin

✎ᝰ! For reblogs: reblog

Last updated: August 15th, 2024

Thank you so much for reading! Have a wonderful day/night. ✶𓏲ּ꩜ .ᐟ

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