#so grateful to have been a part of this <3 thank you for having me!

[moomine]

backwash III | daisuke

author's note: thank you to literally everyone who’s reading this! you guys are so so sweet and i love you all <3 if you want to be part of a taglist for future updates feel free to reply or dm me!! (cover image credit)

summary: (daisuke x f!reader) Sleep is increasingly hard to find on the Tulpar. At night the reader spends her time in the cockpit, thinking about home. When she feels the whim to sleep, she ventures back to the sleeping quarters, only to bump into Daisuke. Instead, she joins him for a midnight snack and some conversation in the lounge.

word count: 2,372

warnings: no trigger warnings! all characters are 18+

now playing: Dave Bixby - "Morning Sun"

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

EMPLOYEE STATEMENT 034—

There was this movie I watched once when I was a kid, about a little girl who falls from the sky. Although I can’t remember the title of it now. I do remember that she was a part of another world, a part of something bigger. She was important. I don’t think you have us write these to talk about movies, do you? I’m sure you’d rather hear about the operations on board, or the technical difficulties, or if there’s been any damage to the cargo. You know, the “important stuff”.  Everything is running smoothly so far. Is that good?

I want to be a part of something bigger one day. Hopefully this experience will help me. I’m grateful to have this opportunity.

DAY THIRTY-THREE—

Pony Express allowed a maximum of five hours of sleep to their employees on haul. During those five hours, the Tulpar was shadowed by a veil of utter stillness. A silence not too dissimilar to that of a library, or that painful pause in awkward conversation. It was too quiet, which led you to stare at the ceiling until the fatigue of work or boredom got the better of you. Even when you could fall asleep, it was far from restful. Over the past month you had gotten the worst sleep of your entire life thus far. Worse than when you lived in those co-ed dorms with unruly neighbors and argumentative hallways. Worse than those nights thunder cracked down from the darkened sky and you clutched stuffed animals in your chubby, child hands. After a certain point, you had given up on finding sleep at all.

The computer screens within the cockpit would beep on occasion, the sound barely audible over the soft plucking of guitar strings in your headphones. The coords of some old folk song filled your ears instead. You sat in the captain's chair, curling in on yourself with your knees to your chest and arms around your person. Your head snuggled into the dip in your legs, cheek pressed your knee cap as you stared at the sea of glowing green.

Curly had given you permission not too long ago to sit in the cockpit at night. Within the first month of your apprenticeship, you had grown on him quite a bit. The captain had always been a kindhearted person. He was a people pleaser to his core, a man simply happy to help. Curly saw a lot of himself in you, and he knew what it was like to feel, well, restless.

“As long as you promise not to touch anything,” he had said, prefacing his next words with a comforting smile, “you have my permission to use your clearance to the cockpit at night. But if word gets to the higher ups, they’ll have my head, understood? We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

Normally, you tried to pay attention to how long you had been sitting there, keeping track of each song that played to count the minutes as they passed, but tonight you hadn’t. With a sigh, you reluctantly stood from Curly’s chair, deciding to give sleep another try. You slipped your Walkman into the pocket of your pajama pants and left the cockpit. Each step you took was quiet, almost imperceivable, as you walked down the hall toward the sleeping quarters. You didn’t want to disturb the others, although you had a feeling nobody else was sleeping all that well either. The rusted, trusty pipes groaned as you passed, their settling moans somehow bypassing the volume of your music. It made you feel uneasy. You reached into your pocket and turned the music up a bit in an attempt to drown out the sound. 

Rounding the corner, you finally reached the door to the sleeping quarters. Just as you reached for the door handle, it slid open seemingly on its own, causing you to flinch. Standing there—holding a flashlight in one hand and with the other placed against his chest—was Daisuke, looking far more caught off guard than you felt. You winced as he shined the light directly into your eyes.

“Holy shit, dude,” he breathed, voice dropped to a raspy whisper. “You straight up scared the hell out of me. What are you doing walking around in the dark?” Daisuke adjusted his aim and shot the beam at the ceiling instead, creating enough light for the two of you to see each other a little better.

With a soft laugh, you pulled your headphones from your ears, allowing them to hang around the back of your neck. “I’m sorry. Couldn’t sleep.”

“You too?” Daisuke questioned.

“I’m surprised anyone can sleep on this thing,” you whispered. “Where are you going?”

His eyes dropped in embarrassment as he used his free hand to rub nervous circles against the side of his neck. “I’m… I’m grabbing a snack from the lounge. You wanna come?”

“Yeah, if you want me to.” You didn’t hesitate. Anything sounded better than tossing and turning. You stepped to the side, permitting him enough space to walk out of the doorway then alongside you.

Daisuke breathed a chuckle at your response. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to.”

“Then I guess I’m coming,” you said in a hushed, playful tone.

Daisuke looked at you with a smile and nodded, shining his flashlight down the hall as the two of you began to walk in silence. In the quiet of the hall, the door to the lounge seemed to open with a deafening wheeze. Deep, royal blue illuminated the large room. The night-time window screen displayed a starry sky with wisp-like clouds, bathing the room with an otherworldly glow. It reminded you of going to the aquarium as a kid, surrounded by water and the smell of saltwater. You half expected to look up and see sharks and fish swimming overhead, but you knew all there would be was a dull, blank ceiling and slumbering lights.

Daisuke stuck his head through the doorway, peeking to see if anyone was already inside. When he determined that the coast was clear—although it wouldn’t have mattered anyway considering the noise of the door, he motioned for you to follow him inside.

“Hell yeah! The place is ours,” Daisuke celebrated, speaking louder once the door closed behind you two. He walked toward the vending machines with long, intentional strides. You tread on his heels, gaze fixed on him in amusement as he looked over the different options. 

You pulled your Walkman from your pocket, then leaned against the bar, palms pressed to the countertop as you pushed yourself up, and took a seat on the cool, brown laminate. “Is there normally someone else here?”

“Hmm?” He barely heard you, too fixated on what he was going to eat. As he processed what you had said, the words loading behind his eyes in a turning spiral, he ordered a pack of freeze-dried fruit and tore into the package. “Oh, nah. Not usually. I mean, I’ve seen Anya in here once or twice, but she’s always coming from medical bay. Getting coffee for those late nights, I guess.”

“She works too much,” you noted. “I wish she wouldn’t push herself like that.”

“You two seem close.” Daisuke approached, leaning against the counter beside you.

“Yeah. You could say that.” A tender smile graced your lips at the thought of you and Anya being close.

There was a pause, a brief lull in the otherwise newborn conversation. A series of crunches sounded from your right where Daisuke stood as he popped piece after piece into his mouth. You glanced over at him, the tenderness of your smile warping into something more entertained. He glanced over at you in turn, his mouth full of apple as he mustered a lopsided smile.

“Hey, it’s your Walkman,” he exclaimed after a swallow, pointing at the dated tech in your lap. “Whatcha listening to?”

“Oh,” you peeped with a suddenly flustered look on your face. “It’s a mix my mom made for me. Just a bunch of old folk stuff she used to play for me when I was little.”

“Can I listen?” he asked, shoving another piece of fruit in his mouth.

“S-Sure, yeah.” You unplugged your headphones and played the tape. It crackled, the old speaker not what it used to be. Or what it ever was, truthfully.

Maybe the quality of the sound would have bothered somebody else, but not Daisuke. As your small corner of the lounge filled with the sound of guitar—the stories of rural towns, first loves, and early mornings, Daisuke set his snack on the counter and listened intently. It was far from what he’d normally like, but something about listening to it here, with you made it sound perfect.

“It’s funny, actually. I never used to like this stuff back on Earth, but lately this is the only one I want to listen to,” you said over the music.

“You must really miss her.” Daisuke inched closer, standing less than a foot away from you as he leaned against the counter. His gaze flickered up to your face, quietly admiring the curves and arches of your profile. Under the blue light of the night time window screen, any blemish or imperfection on your face seemed to vanish. Not that he had ever noticed any imperfections on you. Matter of fact, for some reason, he couldn’t imagine seeing any part of you as imperfect. Even if he tried. There was a somber look in your expression as he spoke, one that made his stomach twist in knots.

“So much. I didn’t think it would be this hard being away from home.” Your voice was just above a whisper now. You felt your eyes begin to burn, the familiar sensation of tears welling in the corners as you tried to suppress the ebbing flow. With the shake of your head, you let out a quick laugh, feeling the tension gradually lifted from your shoulders. “What kind of music do you like?”

Daisuke didn’t blink or care about the change in discussion. He didn’t care about what the two of you talked about, and he wasn’t going to pry either. He knew that you would open when you felt comfortable enough to do so, and he was happy to wait however long that would take.

“A bit of everything, I guess. It kinda pisses me off when people say that and, like, they don’t actually mean it.” He slid his snack off of the bar and extended it to you, shaking it as the pieces inside rattled against each other. “I have a pretty impressive vinyl collection back home. Got everything from Etta James to Duster. You should see it sometime.”

Weakly, you smiled and took a piece of the fruit from the package. “Maybe when all of this is said and done. After the haul?”

“I’d love that,” Daisuke responded quickly, eyes trailing over your face. After another moment of silence, a brief break in conversation, he shifted on his heels and looked away. “So, you uh… you got anyone waiting for you back home? Y’know, like friends? A boyfriend? Or uh, a girlfriend? If you, like, swing that way or whatever. Which would be totally cool, obviously. I’ve got a bunch of gay friends-”

“Daisuke,” you said with a hint of that ever familiar amusement in your voice. “Relax, okay?”

He looked back at you and nodded. “Right, yeah… So, do you?”

“Friends? Yeah, a bunch. I miss them too. But a partner, not so much…” You felt your cheeks light up, a soft pink flush dusting the peaks of your cheekbones and the ridge of your nose.

“Hey, that’s cool,” he responded, bumping shoulders with you and trying not to sound too happy about your response. “Me neither. I mean, like I said, I’ve got loads of friends. Just not the whole girlfriend boyfriend thing.”

“Look at us,” you mused. “One in the same.”

“Yup, one in the same.” Daisuke glanced back at you hopefully, then looked away. He downed the rest of his dried fruit and crumpled up the package, tossing it in the direction of a nearby trashcan and missing by a couple feet. He winced, feeling a tinge of embarrassment as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You gonna go get that?” you asked jokingly, pushed yourself from the countertop, and landed on your feet, securely tucking your Walkman back into your pocket as the music stopped.

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes and walked toward the trash before picking it up and disposing of it properly. “It’s on the way out anyway. In fact, I meant to do that.”

You trailed after him, following close behind as the two of you approached the exit to the lounge. “Totally,” you teased, smiling up at him.

Yet again, the door slid open with that deafening screech as Daisuke and you left the lounge. Together, you walked back to the sleeping quarters. At the door, Daisuke turned to you and stopped. His brown eyes trailed over your features once more in the darkness, illuminated only by the light of the flashlight in his hands. Even in the blackness of the hallway, his smile was bright. His gap-toothed grin seemed almost bright enough to flood the entire hallway with light.

“Thanks for coming with me,” he spoke quietly.

“Thank you for inviting me,” you responded.

Daisuke opened his mouth as if to speak, but the words he wanted to say seemed caught in his throat. Instead, he just nodded and displayed that same smile. Your brows furrowed questioningly, an expression that made his heart skip a bit. Before you could say anything, he opened the door to the sleeping quarters and ushered you inside.

“Goodnight, [Name]. See ya in the morning.” He bit his lip, walking backward toward his room and nearly stumbling when he reached the door.

“Sweet dreams, Daisuke.” 

With that, you slipped into your room with a strange feeling in your chest. A tightness you hadn’t felt since high school, since hallway crushes and etching names into wooden picnic tables. An ache at the loss of his presence. How strange.

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pookies (taglist): @xcryptk33p3rx @freakyydaisukee @sanctuaryofsmartiess @st4rrysblog @academiq @c4t-n1pp @iiveraii

[writingblogsandothers]

The Chosen One

Part 4

Writer's Note: Peoples - thank you all so much for the support. It has been really endearing. Forever grateful. Please accept my apologies if I have missed someone off the tag list! I'm finding it hard to navigate the world of tumblr, so I ask you to please be patient with me! Sending all the love, as per X

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Mild Taunting/Teasing // Mild Fear (nothing descriptive)

Use of She/Her/Lady - Female Pronouns

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Rudely awakened by Alba opening the curtains allowing the morning’s light filter through, Aurelia groaned as she stretched out her weary body.

“Good morning My Lady. I hope and trust that you slept well?” Alba asked her.

“Yes, thank you. I fear I have a lot to accomplish today. I am to meet with a palace planner?” Aurelia responded. Tearing away from the curtains, Alba took to tidying the linens which Aurelia had just risen from. “Yes, My Lady, that is why I have fetched you. They are waiting in the planning room of the palace. Let us get you washed and changed, and take you to meet them.”

Aurelia tread to a new part of the palace which she was yet to encounter. As she approached the room she could hear raised male voices, Alba reached forward to knock to which she was greeted with speedily opening doors, and two extremely contrasting figures standing behind. One was extremely tall and thin, meanwhile the other was short and rather plump.

“My oh my, Lady Aurelia. The Emperor has chosen well. Please you Highness, please come and sit and let us discuss.” The taller of the two elated as Aurelia thought it was much too early in the morning to be this chirpy.

She sat on the beautifully embroidered cushion which padded the heavy wooden hair, dress catching the fine wind as she lowered herself down. The pair looked at her in awe, there was something so simple, yet breathtaking about her. They knew of the Emperor’s way, particularly his brother and prayed to the gods that they would be kind to this innocent child.

“My Lady, allow us to introduce ourselves, my name is Decimus, chief textile co-ordinator here at the palace, and this is Faunus, my handmaiden.” the taller of the two joked. Faunus turned in fake-disgust, “As if! I think you’ll come to find dear Lady Aurelia that Decimus is the lesser important of the two of us… I am the chief seamster, I am responsible for most gowns in the palace, although I do have my minions. I trust and pray you like our creations which you have seen so far, like what you have on you now.”

Aurelia appreciated the pair’s light-heartedness. It was soothing in an environment which seemed so hostile or ‘egg-shell’ like. She giggled in response to them, “It is a pleasure to meet the both of you, and yes, thank you for your kind creations and alterations; they have been nothing slight of spectacular.” The pair nodded with Decimus starting, “Ma’am, shall we begin the planning? We have much to accomplish today as we have a meeting with Emperor Geta this afternoon to go over our designs.” Aurelia nodded and so the planning began.

The first item for discussion, and arguably the most important, the wedding gown. They started off with the overall shape of the dress. The dress flowed at the bottom, with an almost small pleat right round the skirting area. The top half was gathered fabric, which came in two halves covering each breast, leaving a considerable gap between. The plunge made its way right down to where the skirting started. Decimus grabbed fabric he had to hand, and started to pin the dress as he had sketched on the page. Faunus stepped back to admire Aurelia, but looked puzzled “There’s something missing…” Decimus agreed. The pair decided to grab two small gold clasps, and attached one to each shoulder, which left the arm even more exposed. The skirt was then added with a laurel leaf belt to tie the gold on the shoulder in. Aurelia looked at her reflection, almost taken away by the beauty of the dress.

“Does anyone know what the Emperor’s favourite colour is?” she asked inquisitively.

“I believe Ma’am, it is crimson red.”, Faunus drawing a piece of fabric from his collection to show her an example of the colour. Aurelia took it in her hands and created a quick-win shall, spanning across her back, draping over her forearms. The two designers stepped back and sighed, “That’s it. The dress is complete.”

“Now, we must discuss your garments for after the ceremony.” Decimus stated.

“What do you mean? I have my dress, that will suffice all day?” Aurelia asked. Decimus and Faunus looked at one another and burst out laughing – this girl truly was innocent.

“My Lady, upon marrying the Emperor, you are essentially signing yourself over to him. Body and mind. Enjoy your liberty freedoms now, as once you are married, you must obey every word that Emperor Geta mutters.” Faunus explains.

Decimus could see the worry and confusion in Aurelia’s face, so he begins, “Lady Aurelia, let us explain it gentler. Ignore Faunus and his harsh realistic world formalities. When you are married, that later evening, you must celebrate with your new husband. By celebrate, I mean to form your bodily unions and consummate your marriage.”

Aurelia takes a step back and nods, “Ah, yes, right, okay. Erm, yes, we need to ensure I am to please the Emperor, I do not wish to disappoint.” The pair giggled at her awkwardness and began drafting new garments for her to wear.

The rest of the wedding textiles were based around the choices made for the dress, and once all was finalised, Aurelia suddenly felt a huge wave of emotion come over her, breaking down crying instantaneously. Decimus approached the soon-to-be Empress, asking “My Lady, what ever is the matter? Is there something not to your liking?”

Aurelia sniffled, “People, please forgive my outburst. It’s just that I miss home and my family. I would love for my mother to be here to help me make these decisions, I’m just a bit overwhelmed.”

The duo felt a pang of deep sadness for the young girl. She had been thrust into this position through no fault nor want of her own, and it must be an extremely hard transition. Faunus began, “My Lady, I’m sure your family will be cordially invited to the wedding? Have you asked the Emperor?” Aurelia shook her head, “No, the Emperor and I haven’t discussed really anything as of yet.” Faunus sighs, “My Lady, at our review I will plant the seed. Please do not feel such sadness, you will be best looked after here.”

Aurelia sighs and goes back to planning for what should be the happiest day of her life.

***********************************************************************

She left and retired to her quarters, while she knew the meeting was going on with Geta. She took to sitting on one of the many reading windows scattered throughout the main hall; a book on a love which seemed unrealistic at the start, which blossomed into something so strong that it could conquer for the ages to come. How ironic, she thought. Alba burst in through the doors in a mild panic, “My Lady, Emperor Geta wishes your presence in the courtyard to go for a walk.” Aurelia rises from her perch, leaving her book in its place.

She made her way down the vast hallway, and saw a tall figure at the end. She knew from the stature it was him, she bowed gently at him on approach, to which he offered his arm in which for her to link as they made their way into the courtyard.

The walk was silent, each taking in their surroundings and any activity they could hear going on. Geta broke the silence, “I spoke with Decimus and Faunus. They showed me the designs.” Aurelia looked at him through her long, dark lashes. “For a commoner, you have great taste. There were no amendments, all is to go as you planned.”

“Thank you, my Emperor.”

Geta groaned leaving Aurelia with a degree of fear, what did she do wrong? “Aurelia, what did I tell you last night? When we’re together and others are not around, it’s just Geta. No need for the pageantry.”

“Sorry Sire. I mean, Geta.” Geta looked at her with fierce eyes, then broke down laughing. He pulled her along as they began to walk once more. She sighed in relief, smiling to herself knowing she made him laugh.

“I appreciated the sentiment with the colour scheme. The pair told me of your desire to include my favourite colour.”

“I thought it only fair, considering it is both of our days.”

Geta hummed in agreement, “It made me realise that the union we have will solidify your loyalty to me and the empire. You will be greatly rewarded for your actions.”

Aurelia thanked him. Bravely, she spoke, “Geta. I wish to include my family at the festivities.” He stopped in his tracks, tensing at the idea. He stared intently at the woman, taking in her puppy-dog eyes, with her hair blowing in the wind. If his brother seen this weakness, he feared he would be ripped off the throne. What was it about her that made him go almost soft in nature?

“Okay.”

Aurelia stepped back in shock, “Do you truly mean it?”

“Yes. Prepare the letter, I will get one of the guards to deliver it.”

“Oh Geta, thank you!” Out of instinct, she jumped up and hugged the Emperor. He froze at the prospect of such tactile affection. Aurelia stepped back, and bowed her head, “Please forgive me for my outburst, it was unacceptable. I am sorry.”

Geta cleared his throat and took her arm once more, saying nothing but walking toward the direction of the living quarters once more. He dare not show the electricity that ran through him when she hugged him. That was weakness, and weakness? In his game? Costs lives.

***********************************************************************

Aurelia makes her way back to her quarters, and grabs her writing apparatus. She begins to pen a letter to her family;

“Dearest Mater, Pater, Evander and Claudius I hope this letter finds you all well.

I am writing to inform you that Emperor Geta and I request your presence at our marriage ceremony this coming Dies Vernes.

I would also like to affirm that I am well, and the palace life is treating me kind.

Dearest family, I wish only for your presence and kind support on this day.

Your loving daughter and sister, Aurelia”

She only wished could be more transparent of the occurrences, she feared a guard or other could see her writing so she felt it best to keep all neutral. Walking out of her quarters, she was met with a guard who was readily willing to accept her letter and deliver to her family. She curtly nodded and thanked the guard and sent him on his way.

Sighing she watched the guard walk down the hallway with authority, praying her family would see her request through.

Part 5

[crescentfool]

the persona 3 protagonist 25th anniversary nui in food appliances!

[defiledtomb]

hellooo, I hope you're feeling well! I was wondering however if ouroboros was still being worked on or if it's on hiatus. Hope I wasn't rude in asking

I don't feel it's rude, after all, I have been keeping the development close to my chest. It is still being worked on, edited and transferred into renpy with graphics and soundbytes galore! However, right now, since about three weeks back, I left my partner of 8 years in the middle of the night with just a change of clothes, my dog, and a laptop. I'm struggling hard but putting on a brave face-- right now I'm coming up with a concept of something else to work on until I get a proper apartment and can get my stationary PC back so I can get back to work on ouro. I'll make a proper post about it tomorrow, so keep an eye on this space!

[echosage]

૮(ˊ ᵔ ˋ)ა ₊˚✧JUJUTSU KAISEN LINKS PT.2 !!

MDNI !! | CW: Anal, degradation, doggy, riding, titty sucking, thigh job, pussy spanking, spanking, fingering, masturbation, blowjob, pussy eating, double dildo, cheating?

A/N : I'm so so grateful for the love in my first post! Thank you all so much, tell me if you'd like a part 3, and tell me what characters should i put, and what other fandoms should i do! ♡

Pt.1 | Pt.3

₊˚✧ Megumi Fushiguro !!

Megumi playing with ur kitty.

Megumi eating you and fingering you.

Giving him a deep throat.

Getting spanked by step brother Megumi.

Teasing Megumi.

Riding Megumi.

Megumi swears his hand slipped.

Taking you from behind his is dream.

Megumi with you after a long day of having to deal with Satoru, Yuji, and Nobara.

₊˚✧ Nanami Kento !!

Nanami is tired of your bratty demeanor, so he gives you what you want, but meanly.

When Nanami comes home and you're asleep, he can't resist your little sleepy face.

Nanami making you hump his feet for being a brat all day.

Fucking you nice and firm.

Taking you like this is therapeutic for him.

Fingering you while he drives.

Filled up by Nanami.

₊˚✧ Yuji Itadori !!

A thigh job should be enough for Yuji.

Yuji after he found out you cheated w Sukuna.

He loves your ass more than anything.

Yuji taking you with so much love and devotion.

Before going to sleep, you like to tease Yuji a bit.

Yuji at your house a week later after saying he was done with you.

Perv!Yuji finally fucking your pretty pussy.

Yuji using his strenght so you don't do anything.

₊˚✧ Shiu Kong !!

Shiu taking you so lovingly because you've been such a good girl for him.

Shiu folding you after a long day of shopping.

He loves roleplaying with you.

Shiu teasing your two holes.

Shiu giving you proper discipline.

Being needy, but Shiu can't leave the fucking cigarrette.

Sucking Shiu off after he comes home stressed from work.

Shiu taking you doggy style, loving how your back arches.

He loves the view of your tits when you ride him.

Breeding you nice and full of his seed.

₊˚✧ Higuruma Hiromi !!

He loves it wet and messy.

Higuruma craves this view when you ride him.

Taking you on a vacation, so when you fuck, you can't keep your eyes off the landscape.

Higuruma is secretly a loser who loves thighs.

Higuruma fucking you carefully in his office, he doesn't want anyone finding out he fuck his assistant.

Higuruma needs his stress reliever after a rough case.

Higuruma letting you suck him like a baby.

He tries to be rough, but he loves you so much he can't imagine of hurting your little body.

Higuruma didn't want to be mean, but you deserve it after being a whore all day with his co-workers.

Higuruma fucking you from behind.

₊˚✧ Maki Zen'in !!

Maki making you feel so good.

Kissing session w Maki.

This is the only way Maki can put some sense into you.

Maki taming your bratty ass.

[strawberrypoundtown]

Alright, hear me out I am thinking... Werebear. I just can't get my mind off of the idea of a werebear with his little round ears and fuzzy tail who gets disturbed while trying to hibernate (Which he's admittedly not very good at)

That's it, take it and run girly~

(OH it's just a quick one shot- sike, this was a lot longer than I planned and I had to cut some of it for another time lol I should have made it two parts, but whatevs

Enjoy the show - Strawberry 🍓)

Dummies Guide To Hibernation

Clayton Briggs x Fem!Reader

You move into a new apartment complex and notice your next-door neighbor being a lot more secluded and withdrawn lately as the winter creeps in. One late night, as you're walking through the hall to your door, you notice the door to his apartment is wide open...

Contains: unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink, light free use kink (?)

You had moved into this apartment complex just shy of 3 months ago. You were still getting your bearings, having not lived completely alone before. You always had roommates or family living with you, so finally being completely alone was strange. Your apartment complex wasn't very big. There were only two other apartments on your side of the hall, yours sandwiched between the two.

The older werewolf woman that lived on your right seemed to be pretty calm and quiet, albeit a bit paranoid. She looked to be about 40-50 years old, but could have been older. You hadn't seen her leave the complex property before, so you just chalked it up to her being a bit of a recluse. You occasionally grab her mail for her when she asks, and she's always grateful, giving you a handful of candy before sending you on your way.

The man that lived on your left was a very different story. You two had met late at night when he offered to help you move a very large chair that you had bought a few days after you moved in. You were struggling to get it into the elevator after regretting that you had ordered the orc size for the chair and not werewolf of something. Damn you and your enjoyment of large furniture.

A large, burly man with a bushy brown beard had appeared behind you during your struggle. His curly golden brown hair was short and messy. He seemed to be around a staggering 7'3" tall, easily towering over you. He was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, steel-toe workboots, and a reflective vest that people used on construction sites. Of course, you assumed that he just got off of work and was getting impatient with you hogging the only elevator. You were about to apologize for being in his way and try to get the chair out of the way when he put his massive hand on your forehead, gently moving you out of the way. With a faint grunt, he easily moves the chair into the elevator. He stands in the elevator with the chair next to him and enough space for you to stand next to him. He holds the elevator door open for you as he stares at you. He notices you hesitating and looks away from you, his dirt covered cheeks turning a bit red as he looked away from you. He was still waiting for you.

"O-oh. Thank you." You said softly with a smile as you looked up at him and stepped into the elevator. You clicked the button for your floor, and he nodded in response as he moved his arm, letting the door close. "You must be one of my neighbors. I just moved in about a week ago. It's a pleasure to meet you."

He let out another grunt as he nodded once again, only glancing at your occasionally as he avoided touching you in the cramped elevator. Saying he was a large man as an understatement. You had to strain your neck to look up at him, but looking at eye level or lower was even worse. He was built like a truck with a nice layer of chubbiness. He seemed so soft, so nice to hug. You just wanted him to pick you up and hold you. It was hard to focus on anything but him as his chest was only inches away from your face. You could tell that he had a very strong build, and you love a large dad bod. He was covered in dirt and sweat, but his scent was still a bit too nice for your comfort.

As the elevator doors opened, you found yourself trying to scramble out the door and out of the way as quickly as possible. You had let out a sigh of relief, trying to calm your racing heart as he lifted the chair out of the elevator with ease. He immediately started walking towards your door.

You quickly got out your keys and jogged down the hall to open your door. He moved quickly, so he was already at your door by the time you got there. Once your door was open, you led him inside your cozy apartment and towards your livingroom. As he stepped inside, he was surprised at the decore you already had up. Pictures and posters and a few fake plants with fairy lights pinned to the ceiling.

After he put down the chair where you told him to, he noticed the rest of your furniture. It was all fairly large, at least the size for most werewolves, but all covered in pillows and blankets to make it cozy. He felt like just looking at your apartment would make him fall asleep. He needed to leave. Your heart sank a bit, following him as he immediately turned to walk towards the front door.

"Thank you for your help! I don't know what I would have done if you didn't help me. I'm sorry I bothered you on your way home-" You say, but he cuts you off by holding out his hand to you to shake. You take it gently, and he begins to speak.

"Don't worry about it. If you ever need help with anything, I live next door on your left. Apartment 400. I'm pretty handy." He says softly as he looks down at you with a blank expression. His voice was deep and intimidating, but it made you feel safe and warm. His hand was big and rough, but he held your soft hand so gently, like he was worried about hurting you.

"Oh, thank you. I really appreciate that. Um... could I get your name? My name is (Y/n)." You say with a smile, staring up at him as your other hand comes up to rest on top of his. His cheeks turn a bit red once again as he stares at your hands for a moment before looking back into your eyes.

"I-I'm Clayton..." He says shyly before pulling his hand away and taking a step back. "It was nice to meet you (Y/n). I need to go." He said bluntly, his eyes avoiding yours as he rushed off to his apartment door. For such a large man, he sure was quick. You didn't even have a chance to say anything before you heard his door slam shut. You worried you angered him, but based on his pink cheeks, you assumed that he was just shy.

Over the next month, you would start conversations with him whenever you would see him. He would always stand and listen until you were done talking. Occasionally, you would mention that you were trying to do something in your apartment and would ask what kind of tools you would need. He would tell you, seemingly happy that he could give you advice. However, he never seemed to let you take his advice, because before you could even get the tools you needed, he would be over with his toolbox ready to go.

Need a shelf put up? He did it. Need your sink unclogged? No problem. He got it cleared. Need your lock replaced because your ex found out where you lived? He replaced your entire door and got you a doorbell camera.

He never accepted any money from you, always saying he just wanted to be a good neighbor and make sure you were safe. He did, however, accept food. You always made him a big plate of whatever you were eating that night. He always seemed to enjoy it after he got home, the plates returning to your front door completely clean the next morning.

However, as the fall passed and the winter started, you saw Clayton less and less. Whenever you would see him, he'd look absolutely exhausted, and you had noticed him getting thinner. He also started to occasionally walk around with his cute stubby tail and round ears out due to how little energy he had. You had found out from your other neighbor that Clayton was a werebear, so the winter season made him exhausted all the time. You felt bad for asking for so much of his time while he should have been preparing for hibernation, so you took it upon yourself to make sure he was eating enough.

Every day, you brought a container of food over to his door and left it in front of his door. You would leave a note on the container before knocking and running off so you didn't bother him further. The clean, empty containers would show up in front of your door the next day with a note that just said 'thank you'.

What you didn't know was how much it actually meant to him that you had been helping him in return. He had always struggled with his hibernation, having been raised by a pack of werewolves after his parents adopted him. They did their best, but he was never really taught how to hibernate properly. It didn't help that he had insomnia, which was very inconvenient for the big guy when it came to his hibernation time. Thankfully, during the winter, his construction jobs slowed down a bit, but it still took a lot out of him. Cooking himself dinner at the end of a long day was out of the question, so he usually got take out or nothing at all.

Imagine his surprise when he started getting food dropped off at his door every night. He loved your food. Everything you made was delicious, and he always licked his plate clean. You were so sweet with how you helped take care of him. The smell of the fantastic food you cooked flooding the hallway was amazing, but your scent had him even more entranced.

Ever since you had moved next door, just your scent from the hallway was enough to comfort him. He had already thought you were cute when you moved in, but as time went on, he fell for you even harder. Your more domestic side showing lately had been the killer for him, though. You would check in on him and give him food, a reassuring touch, like the angel you were. He wanted to help take care of you like you took care of him. He wanted you. He needed you. He always had such a hard time leaving your apartment because of how cozy it was. The moment he would walk in, he would feel like he could pass out on the floor and still be comfortable. He wished he could sleep in your orc sized bed with you and show you how much he cares about you.

He would listen unintentionally as you would take a shower or get ready for bed. The walls were so thin, and with his hearing as good as it was, it was impossible for him to ignore your whimpers from the other side of the wall whenever you'd be masturbating. Whenever he had gone in to help you put up a shelf in your bedroom, he could smell the arousal in the air from when you had given yourself an orgasm shortly before he arrived. He struggled to hide his erection the whole time. Just imagining what you did to yourself when you were alone made his dick throb in his jeans. Being able to smell that you were ovulating didn't help.

He knew what everything meant. You were his mate. He just had no idea how to tell you without sounding completely insane. You were just a human. A very soft, sweet human that surely only had the best intentions whenever they would interact. If only he knew how further he was from the truth. You had wanted him just as badly, if not more, but didn't want to make him uncomfortable. He just seemed shy to you, and you didn't want to scare him off. For such a big guy like him, you had hoped food would win him over. Every time you had him over to help fix something you didn't understand, you would fantasize about him driving his cock into you and letting out all his pent-up frustrations. And cum.

Once you found out he was a werebear, you did some serious research. You learned about how he needed a cozy environment he could use as a 'den' and how much he needed to eat. Werebears didn't sleep 24 hours a day, but they needed at least 10-14 hours of sleep every night to function somewhat normally during the day. They tend to need to eat a lot to keep up a healthy layer of fat. They can also get very, very backed up if they don't have a mate to hibernate with as they typically don't socialize during this time. You didn't know what his apartment looked like, as he had never invited you over, but you wanted to make your home as inviting to him as possible for when he came over. Especially your bedroom.

You were happy you rented in a monster-friendly apartment building due to the fact that you had an orc sized bed from the last place you lived in. It was at least 9' long, and you were always swimming in it, so you always had it loaded with pillows and stuffed animals and soft blankets. You figured that if you got some extra large blankets for him to use, he would be more inclined to come over.

But lately, he was so tired he had let his ears and tail show, his arms and chest extra hairy as it peaked out of his clothing. He was trying to conserve energy, and you noticed him not snoring much at night when he should have been sleeping, but still going to work in the morning with dark circles under his eyes. You also noticed that as the next full moon approached, he was struggling more and more to hold it together. He was nearly falling asleep standing up and more shuffled than walked to his apartment. You started making more and more food for him to leave by his door for when he got home.

Tonight was a full moon, so you knew you had to make him a lot of food because he was going to fully tranform tonight. The containers had started coming back broken with apology notes and money attached, so tonight you had gotten some disposable containers. You made him a huge spread of various roasted vegetables and fish and put all the containers in front of his door, saying that if he needed to, he could crash at your place.

That leads you to this moment, you standing outside Clayton's door. You heard him stumble home about 20 minutes ago and growling for about 15 minutes until a loud thud hit the floor. It shook your apartment, and you instantly rushed over to see if he was okay. You noticed the door was cracked open and hesitantly pushed the door open. Your jaw dropped as you saw his living conditions. It was clean, but barely had any furniture to keep clean in the first place. All he had was a large futon in the livingroom and a TV with a gaming set up.

You hear groaning coming from what you assume to be the bedroom as you carefully creep in. You peer down the hallway to see a large furry mass in the dark. A mess of ripped apart food containers were scattered down the hallway to in front of the bed. You gingerly made your way down the hallway as you tried to get a better look at him. You could tell he was already fully transformed, and it almost sounded like he was... whining? As you got closer, you noticed that he was so big half his giant furry body was hanging off the bed. He was facing away from you, but you could hear him panting and whining as his nubby tail wiggled. He was a giant ball of fur and you slowly walked up to his face. His head was huge when he was transformed. He looked like an adorable grizzlybear, minus the giant sharp claws.

"C-clayton?" His eyes snap open at the sound of your voice. Your sweet, beautiful voice. "Are you okay?... I heard a loud thud, and your door was open..." You were so kind. He couldn't believe you actually walked in here to check on him. He didn't know what to do. He was embarrassed at how his place looked. He had been so tired lately he hadn't wanted to do anything special for his hibernation, but he was regretting it now.

He bashfully looks away from you and scoots his head closer to you. You crouch down and gently run your fingers through his fur. His fur was so soft you gently rest you head on top of his as she scratched the fur around his neck. He lets out an odd growl that almost sounds like a purr as he nuzzles into your chest. He inhales your comforting scent deeply. You smell so sweet... He had to carefully pull his face away from your chest before he tried to rip your tank top off. He had noticed you weren't wearing a bra and wanted to know what your breast looked like so badly. He caught himself staring at your chest before looking up at you with his beautiful golden eyes.

"C-can I crash with you? Please?... this is bad..." His voice was hoarse as he groaned. He regret pushing his body so much and ignoring his need for a proper den. He knew your place would be perfect based on what he had seen so far. Not only that, but he would be able to convince you to share your large bed with him. It had been so long since he could cuddle anyone during hibernation...

"Of course you can. I just need you to follow me." You said softly, and you went to stand up. He stood up with you, and you couldn't help but freeze for a moment as you took in his large form. He was nearly 9' tall, staring down at you as he breathed heavily. All he had on were some boxers that were way too small once he was transformed. You could see the outline of his thick cock through the fabric. He put one of his giant hands on your shoulder and sleepily followed you next door to your apartment, being sure to at least close his door before he leaves.

Upon stepping into your apartment, he has to use his hands on your wall to stabilize himself. Walking through the threshold of your home and being hit with a wall of your scent was overwhelming. He stumbled through your apartment as carefully as possible, trying not to knock anything over. You had to guide him to your bedroom, him ducking a bit through the doorways. As he saw your bed, he let out a sigh of relief. The mass of pillows and giant blankets looked so welcoming.

"I-I hope it'll be okay. At least better than your place..." You let out a soft giggle as you opened up the bed more for him to crawl in. He didn't waste another moment before carefully crawling onto your bed. The bed dipped under his immense weight. You thanked yourself for getting a reinforced bedframe when you got your giant bed.

"Oh fuck." He groaned out as he fully laid down, his body going limp as he finally felt his body fully relax for the first time in ages. Fully stretched out, he's just as tall as the bed, but all the pillows and blankets with the softness of the mattress are perfect. He feels like he's in heaven as he turns onto his side and closes his eyes. His breathing began to get heavier, and you assume he's already starting to fall asleep. You grab the biggest blanket you have from your couch and as you lay it over him, his eyes slowly open. He stares at you for a moment as your body is illuminated in the moonlight peering in from your window. He hadn't really gotten a good look at you yet, and it was a good thing that he didn't. He wouldn't have been able to make it over to your apartment if he noticed you were only wearing a tanktop and tight boxer shorts. He could already feel himself getting hard under the covers, your scent overwhelming as he let out a soft groan.

"Clayton? Are you okay?" You ask with a worried tone. Your caring eyes are so beautiful in the moonlight. In a flash, you were pulled under him while letting out a loud yelp. He was proped up on his elbow on his side next to you, his other hand on your hip as he leaned over you. He held your body so close to his, trying his best not to rip your clothes off of you immediately. He leans down and nuzzles his face into your neck so all he can smell is you. He was annoyed at how your scent was so comforting but wouldn't let him sleep. He was pent-up, and you were his mate that made a den just for him... he needed to do something or he felt like he was gonna explode.

He moved one of his knees in between yours as he stared into your eyes, running his hand from your hip to your thigh to guide it to hook over his leg. Goosebumps appear all over your body as you feel his sharp claws drag across your skin. As you were held there on your back, you could feel his hard cock against your thigh. Fuck you were turned on. You didn't know what to do but stare back into his glowing eyes and follow his lead. He leaned in close to your face, bearing his sharp teeth as he struggles to find his words.

"I really need your help tonight (Y/n)..." He mumbles as he moves from smelling your hair to burying his nose in your collarbone.

"Look, I'm flattered... v-very flattered, but I'm not really a fan of one night stands." You say nervously, knowing that you'd want way more than just one night with him. His large, rough tongue rakes up the side of your neck, making you let out an involuntary moan.

"Who said I wanted a one night stand?" His hot breath brushes against your neck, causing goosebumps to go down your body. "I want you.. All of you... Always." His teeth ran across the skin in the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent deeply. "If you want me, I'll stay... please..." He pleads with a deep growl. He sounds so desperate for you. You wouldn't have thought the stoic man next door would be reduced to a horny, cuddly mess, but here you are. "My mate..." He growls as he palms one of your breasts through your thin tank top, careful not to scratch you with his claws. The pressure of his body against yours is overwhelming in the best way, every touch lighting you on fire as you couldn't help but let out soft moans.

"P-please stay Clayton..." You begged as your self-control went out the window, grinding your hot mound against his leg. Your words and actions made him suck in a breath, pausing as he stared at you. He suddenly turned onto his back, pulling you on top of him to straddle his waist. He used his claws to rip a huge hole in your shorts, exposing your dripping wet pussy. You pulled your tanktop off quickly before he ripped that off while he ripped away his boxers. His massive cock sprang to life, smacking against your wet pussy lips softly. He pulled himself up to bring you in for a kiss, groaning as he

You bit your lip before grinding your cunt down along his dick. It was too dark for you to see properly, but his dick felt similar to a werewolf's dick, but much bigger. You hadn't taken someone that big before, so you were secretly happy that you were in the middle of masturbating when you heard him come home...

"Oh fuck." He strained his head back against the bed as he moaned. His hands reached up to hold your hips in place, rolling his hips back against you to get more friction against his sensitive cock. His hands were massive, both of them nearly completely encircling your waist as he held you in place. He fought against the urge to use you like a living fleshlight immediately. He felt like he was getting high off the scent of your arousal.

You brace your hands on his soft forearms as you find your footing by his sides. His waist is too big for you to straddle normally, but you don't care. You're gonna do your best. You were getting impatient, as he could feel from how his cock was completely drenched from your juices. He raises his head up to look at you, letting out soft whimpers as you pull your heat away from his needy dick. You earn a low growl from him as you decided to grab his cock and line his dripping tip up with your aching hole. His grip on your hips tightens, and you feel his claws threaten to break your soft skin. He applauded his self control in his crazed state, although every fiber of his being was telling him to just bury his cock deep inside you now. He needed you so badly.

You press yourself down on his dick, your arousal and his precum acting as lube. His cock slides into your pussy easier than he expected, but you're still struggling to take his size. His cock was so thick it stretched your pussy to the absolute limit and you were loving every second. You had only taken him about halfway, and yiu didn'tknow how much more you could take. You were trying to hold your moans as much as possible, but the attempt was futile. You groaned out in pleasure as the shape of his cock rubbed against your g-spot with every movement.

Clayton stared at you hungrily, growl in his throat that resonated through his whole body. You could swear you felt his dick vibrate, but then again, it might have been your walls fluttering to accommodate his size.

He suddenly snaps his hips up into yours, his hands on your hips keeping you in place as he buries his cock into you up to his knot. The drastic shock to your body made you scream out in pleasure. Your pussy stung as you felt the bulge at the base of his cock press against your pussy. You feel him shudder under you as you clenched your pussy around his length. You're given very little time to adjust before he starts moving your hips for you.

"F-fuck, I'm sorry... I can't control myself right now... you drive me fucking crazy... you're so fucking tight..." He growls as he watches your boobs bounce in front of him. He may have you on top, but he's the one in control. He holds your hips so firmly it may leave bruises, using your body as his personal sex toy. He is so desperate to cum, wanting nothing more than to fill you up and get you pregnant.

He wanted you to be the mom to his cubs. You were so sweet and kind. You could teach them how to make a den much better than he could. You felt so amazing stretched out on his dick. You were just so addicting.

Every movement he made you do made you feel just as crazy as him. His cock hit all the right places, your pussy quivering around him as you felt yourself getting close to cumming. Every slight curve and bend of his dick felt like heaven as he bounced you faster to chase his own release.

"I'm so close. I'm not pulling out. I want you to take my knot and have my cub..." He grunts, whimpering as you feel his dick twitch inside you. He's close, and so are you.

"Y-yes please! I want your cum in me, please! Make me cum!" You beg him, completely giving into the pleasure. You couldn't take it anymore. You were so close it almost hurt.

"Rub your clit for me, honey." He orders and you don't think twice before one of your hands finds your clit, your fingers working your sensitive clit while he works you. It only takes a few more seconds before you throw your head back, moaning like a bitch in heat as your orgasm washes over you like a tsunami. As you begin to cum, he snaps his hips up to meet yours, thrusting his huge knot into your already strained pussy. The rough action causes you to scream, squirting all over his crotch as your quivering pussy milked his cock. His dick throbbed inside you as he let out a roar, his claws scratching your hips while he came deeper than anyone had before. He filled your plugged up pussy so much your belly bulged slightly. You both struggle to catch your breath as his grip on you slowly relaxed. He couldn't help but stare at you and your beautiful body, your sweat shining in the moonlight through the window.

"I hope you're okay... I didn't hurt you, did I?" He groans out, a bit worried that in his haze he went too far. Your exhausted giggle eases him slightly.

"I'm more than okay..." You admit with a grin. Clayton chuckles in response as he feels his knot start to go down, letting him slip his cock out of you. You whimper and whine as he pulls his cock out, suddenly feeling every empty as his cum pours out of your used hole. He lets out a relieved sigh as he turns onto his side and pulls you close to him.

"I'm glad you're okay..." He whispers to you as he stares into your eyes with adoration mixed with exhaustion. You can't help but smile as his large body and thick fur make you feel like you have a living weighted blanket. His presence was just so comforting to you.

"I hope you don't mind hibernating with me." You say. He pulls you in close as he arranges the pillows and blankets around the two of you, using his arm as a pillow for you. He finally pulls the blanket over the two of you and wraps his other arm around you.

"Honey, I don't think I could have hibernated without you..." He says softly, ending in a yawn as you both settled in to get some sleep. As you two embraced each other, sweaty and satisfied, you couldn't stop thinking about how Clayton would be a really good dad. You secretly hope his seed already got you pregnant as you fell asleep cuddled into his chest. He took another good look at your gorgeous face before drifting off to sleep himself. Both of you were soon dreaming of your belly swollen with his cub and little kids running around.

He could get used to this.

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 02:33 P.M 」

based on this video. this idea has been rotting in my brain for some while :') dad gojo will always have a soft spot in my heart <3

a part of gojo's love entries

your baby’s first trip to aquarium was such a cute affair you were sure you wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

“waaa~” your baby’s eyes were gleaming with wonder as he gazed at the diverse array of colorful fishes above him, completely captivated by the view.

and your husband...

“aren’t they pretty, hmm?” satoru asked his adorable son with a grin, pecking his cheek and holding him snugly in the baby carrier against his chest, with a backpack of baby essentials strapped on his back.

he was the very vision of a domestic dad, and along with your son, who was dressed in a bear onesie, complete with two little ears, they made a really irresistible pair. even you couldn’t fault the crowd for staring at them.

“fwaa! waa~” your munchkin was squirming with joy, his tiny fingers stretching out towards the sight before him. satoru giggled, moving closer to the glass to give his baby a better view.

“look! that’s clownfish! and those wiggly flowers are anemone! and that is—”

he faltered at a fish passing in his view before deciding, “this— i don’t know, but it’s the clownfish’s friend!”

they are basically the same. your little boy and your husband, both of them clearly shared a brain cell as they happily pointed out different fishes.

“meh! hehe!” your baby babbled away, excited and incredibly happy in his father’s hold, and satoru too seemed to feel the same, as his eyes beyond that sunglasses crinkled.

“damn, my kid is so cute.”

suddenly he dived down and pretended to chew his pumpkin’s chubby cheeks, effectively making him squeal in glee.

and oh lord, the way your heart skipped a beat seeing that. it was so clear how much satoru adored your baby, and it made overwhelming warmth rush to your chest.

“he’s a good man,” an elderly lady beside you suddenly remarked, making you turn to her. “not many men do that for their kids.”

“he is…” you agreed with a shy smile.

“it’s a shame that you only have one baby,” the elderly man beside her—possibly her husband—added. “you’re still young and he is so good with them too.”

your heart swelled and would’ve already burst if it was possible. bashfully, you thanked the elderly pair as they went on their way.

and along the way, you received similar hushed comments and adoring looks—

“oh my! their baby is so cute!”

“how can such family exists?! the dad, mom, baby… all three of them are so good-looking!”

“such a hot dilf! can’t he divorce his wife and marry me instead? i’ll be his kid’s stepmother gladly!”

satoru pretended not to hear, but he clearly held back his laugh. you threw the school girl who carelessly blurted that a pointed look, making her scurry away.

and after the three of you were done walking around the aquarium, you stopped by the gift shop to get your baby his first fish pet.

your son suddenly became fussy, and satoru unclasped him from the carrier. “hmm? do you want mama?” he handed him over to you. “here, here~ mama wants to hold you too~”

as soon as your son was settled in your embrace, he giggled, and you couldn’t help but bounce him and coo. “do you have fun? you do, don’t you?”

it might not visible to others, but now satoru was staring at both of his reasons of being with literal stars in his eyes.

several years ago, he thought his life had stopped when his best friend negated his beliefs entirely, but you were there, holding his hand throughout it all. and then you married him— and then, you gave him a son to dote on.

you keep giving his life a new meaning. and he was thankful for that.

. . . meanwhile, you kept hearing whispers from a gaggle of girls in the next aisle, about how much of a dreamboat your husband in his blue shirt was and it was grating at your nerves so much that you pursed your lips into a total pout.

satoru thought you were the cutest, not even second to his baby, and he decided he wasn’t known for public decency anyway so he dived in and pecked your lips—dispelling any stray thoughts and making you flush in an instant.

“sato—!”

and before you could rebuke him, he whispered in your ear:

“so... baby number two, when?”

[avis-writeshq]

hi ! love ur fics <3

can i request reader as being a massive flirt publicly towards spencer but when its Intimate and Private, reader is suddenly Stunned and Speechless and Blushing and spencer kinda gets the confidence to Do Stuff

im sorry if that was the stupidest described ask ever achh but lov u !

pairing: s9!spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: established relationship, bombshell-ish(?) reader, fluff warnings: 16+ for kind of suggestive? he’s so in love UGH a/n: thank you for requesting !! wc: 1.22k

Spencer thinks that you are the most beautiful person in the world. He thinks that you’re glowing every time you walk into the room– no matter how upset or disgruntled you may be– and as cliche as it may seem, he’s certain that swarms butterflies fill his stomach and cloud his mind. In fact, he thinks that you have always had that effect on him, ever since he’s met you. You’re touchy, and despite Spencer’s general aversion to physical touch, he finds that he doesn’t mind your germs much. 

Very often he finds himself at your mercy, with the way your fingers brush against his face as if it’s nothing, as if that movement alone was something that you do with everyone (you’ve only ever done it with him). There are other instances where you’ve been very blatant in your attraction towards him, so much so that he ends up with his cheeks hot more often than not. A part of him is grateful that though you work in the FBI, it isn’t his division. He doubts he’d be able to see the end of it.

“Spencer,” you gush, curling your fingers into the ends of his hair. Or rather, lack of hair. “You got a haircut. You’re supposed to consult me first, you know.”

He laughs, looking up at you as you stand over him while he sits at his desk. “Is that what a good boyfriend is supposed to do?”

“Yes.” You speak with mock indignation, properly running your fingers through his hair from his fringe to the back of his head. “It’s so short.”

“Do you hate it?” There’s a momentary pang of unease that strikes at his heart. “Maybe I should have consulted you.”

“No, baby, it looks really good.” You smile at him, pressing a kiss to his hairline. “You’re warm. Do you have a fever?”

Of course I’m warm, Spencer wants to say while you continue to dote on him, your hands travelling to his collar next and brushing against his throat. You’re touching me in the middle of the bullpen. 

He opts to not say anything when he sees your knowing smile. You’re doing this on purpose. He clicks his tongue, squeezing at your waist lightly as you lean over him to kiss his forehead. He’ll let you win this battle; he’s going to get you back.

***

He doesn’t really know how to get you back. There are a few harmless things he’d thought of doing: sneaking into your department and hiding your mug on the top shelf (he fears that you’d ask someone, a taller more handsome someone, to rescue it for you), not wearing the tie you picked out for him that morning (he can already envision your disappointed frown and his chest aches at the imaginary you getting upset because of him), and putting toothpaste in your Oreos (he doesn’t want to die). 

All of these ideas go down the drain and he ends up not getting back at you for days. It doesn’t help that he’s been gone for a case while you’ve been stuck at home. It isn’t all bad, and a part of him wishes that he can hold himself to the same level of confidence as Derek when Penelope calls him with flirtatious motives. You do virtually the same thing. 

Your words are honey as you shower him with compliments, ending him with a simple “Hey, gorgeous.” 

It is enough to make his heart leap to his throat and his cheeks to warm to a pretty pink. There’s not much overlap between the Human Resources Branch and the BAU, especially considering that you assist more on the training and hiring side of things, so there aren’t many opportunities for you to fluster him when he’s out of the office. He finds that you always make an excuse.

“Hi,” he responds softly, avoiding the teasing gazes of Emily and Derek. “Is… are you okay?”

“Do I need to not be okay to talk to my lovely boyfriend?” 

You’re teasing him, poking fun at the way he so easily surrenders to you. He resists the urge to run out the room. 

“Stop,” he warns half-heartedly. He says your name quietly, tapping his fingers at the edge of the table. “Is there something you needed?”

He can practically hear you smile as you respond, the sound of your mouse clicking in the background. “Oh, yeah. My computer says that my storage is full. What do I do?”

“Your storage is full,” he repeats, smiling. “That’s why you called me?”

“It’s lunchtime in Santa Monica, right?”

He relents, cheeks hurting from how hot and stretched out they are. “Yes.”

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem.” 

He puffs out a breath of air, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re lovely.” He can imagine you batting your eyes, your smile saccharine. “Don’t you wish that you were here, gorgeous?”

He’s definitely going to get you back.

*** 

Spencer goes to your apartment once the case ends, his eyes dreary with sleep and the horrors that he saw only a few hours prior. Your apartment key hangs next to his on his keychain– a limited edition Tardis charm that you got him for his birthday. He huffs out a breath, unlocking your door and stepping inside. He’s met with you dancing around in your kitchen, headphones on whilst holding a wooden spoon. A part of him is concerned with how easily he could slip into your home without being notice, but the other part can’t help but smile at how carefree you look, and he leans against the wall to stare. 

He doesn’t get the opportunity to stare for long. It’s comical, the way you jump upon seeing him, eyes wide as you rip your headphones off. 

“You’re back! You scared me.” A smile stretches across your lips while you press your palm to your chest whilst taking steps towards him. “Don’t do that ever again.”

Spencer laughs, toeing his shoes off and resting his hands on your waist. His head dips down to meet your gaze, peering up at you with a soft smile. “You look beautiful.”

Your cheeks glow warm and you break eye contact. “Yeah?”

“Mm.” He hooks his pointer finger under your chin, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I missed you.”

He notes the way you don’t respond, in some sort of daze while your lips part in both surprise and flusteredness. He understands your sentiments– it isn’t often that he initiates affection. 

“Did you miss me, too?” Spencer asks softly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he speaks. 

“Of course I did,” you croak out, heat building in your head. 

Spencer chuckles, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He’s doing this on purpose, flustering you to the point of no return. He kisses you again, one hand holding the base of your head while the other squeezes at the flesh of your waist. It’s dizzying, the taste of coffee on his tongue and the feel of his fingers in your hair. 

“Hey, gorgeous,” he murmurs once he’s pulled away. His thumb rubs a line from the back of your ear to where your jawline starts, and he can’t help but chuckle. “Where did that confidence go, hm?”

reblogs are always appreciated!

[chaussetteblanche]

and they were roommates pt. 2

pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : the BAU team works the case, you get to help word count : 2.3k warning : canon-typical violence, mention of violence and sexual violence A/N : thank you all so much for all the love on part 1 of this !!! I love getting feedback, it's incredibly motivating ! I will probably do a part 3 :)) Also, my cat is sitting next to me as I write this, which I find quite funny

part 1, part 3, part 4

Back at the police station, Spencer had trouble focusing on the case. His mind kept wandering over to you, wondering what you were doing, how you were doing. He was on edge and the entire team could feel it. Hotch pulled him to the side to ask him if he wanted to give you a phone call. Reid refused, but settled on sending you a text, something he never usually did while working. Something he never usually did because he wasn't the biggest fan of technology and also because he couldn't decipher how you were actually feeling without hearing your voice and all the quirks in the way you spoke which gave away your real feelings.

Sent by Dr. Ironed Socks : < Hey. How are you doing? > Sent by You : < Ok, I'm having a tea on the couch. Geoff is in REM sleep on my lap. Thx for checking <3 >

Your text was followed by a pixelly picture of your slightly overweight (Spencer couldn't use that term to describe Geoffrey around you or you'd get upset) orange cat sprawled out on your lap, legs and arms askew, fast asleep. Spencer felt a small wave of relief spread through him. You were okay for now. Geoffrey was looking after you. Later, he'd help you process and give you all the tools necessary to get over such a traumatic event and move on. It was almost as if that was in his job description.

Returning to the room where the BAU team had settled in, Spencer sent Hotch a grateful nod. Hotch moved his lips in what resembled a small smile, Reid couldn't be sure. "Okay," Garcia's voice resounded from the speaker sitting in the middle of the round table, "I've contacted all of Mary Goldman's professors and it turns out she didn't go to class today. Her first class was at 11:30 but she never showed up." "None of the students we interrogated on campus had seen her after 10:15," Emily spoke up. "Spencer's roommate saw her between 10:30 and 11:00," Rossi intervened. "Okay, we'll get her to come in," Hotch affirmed. Spencer's whole body tensed. You had been the last person to see the victim. His mind was so busy reeling, thinking about everything you'd have to go through as the most promising witness, that he missed Morgan's question.

"Reid?" Derek raised an eyebrow. "Uh, sorry, what did you say?" "What was the time of death according to the coroner?" "14:30," Rossi answered. "It was 14:26, actually," corrected Reid. Rossi rolled his eyes. "Okay, so the unsub has his victim between around, let's say 11:15, and 14:26," Rossi shot a pointed look at Spencer, "that's about three hours and 11 minutes. In those three hours, he had time to take the victim someplace where neither of them would be seen or heard, beat and sexually assault her, and finally dump her in smack-dab in front of the university." "He's definitely organised and wants to send a message," Emily thought aloud. "But what is he trying to say? Look at what I can do? You can't stop me?" "Friends," interrupted Garcia, "I'm going to need at least some information before I even try to get anything out of a search. He's taking and leaving them on campus, so I'm guessing he doesn't necessarily need a vehicle. Does he live in the area?" "Yes, he's local or knows the area, he knows these women and he most likely knows the campus. Search for white males, early twenties with a record of violence and sexual misconduct. Cross-reference that with victims of reported abuse and sexual abuse in the last twenty five years. Run background checks for all university staff. Also have a look at similar victims and MOs in this area in the last five years. This may not be his first time," spoke Hotch. "On it, I'll get back to you when I've found something." "Thanks, Garcia."

You'd taken a shower as soon as you'd arrived home. The water was too hot and you'd scrubbed your skin too hard but getting out, you felt a slight bit better. Heavily disliking the way you still felt, you opted for a cup of Earl Grey tea with milk and sugar. Settling on the couch with a steaming cup in your hands, you tucked your legs beneath you and sighed.

Images of Mary's dead body were printed onto the inside of your eyelids. You still couldn't believe it. Your mind reeled as you tried to think of an explanation for it all. Whichever path you followed, you came up empty. You could not comprehend or imagine any reason of taking the life of an innocent person, especially in such a violent way. Luckily for you, you still didn't know the extent of the violence.

A familiar noise pulled you from your dark thoughts. Geoffrey had just jumped down from his cat tree. You watched him stretch and languidly walk over to you. He meowed once before jumping onto the couch, right next to you. You moved your legs so that you were sitting cross-legged and scratched his head. He purred in delight and pressed himself against you. He sniffed at your tea with an unimpressed look before climbing into your lap before letting himself flop down on his side, stretching out his appendages. You cooed as his pink toe-beans stretched too and laid a hand on his belly, scratching gently. The vibrations of his purrs had a calming effect on you. "Are you trying to make me forgive you for biting my ankle the other day when I wouldn't give you any more treats? You know Spencer says you're a bit overweight, I was just trying to get him to stop body-shaming you, my love..."

A few minutes later, you get a text from Spencer. About thirty minutes after that, you get a phone call from him. "Hey, would you mind coming to the station? It turns out you're the last person to have seen the victim."

"I'll do the cognitive interview." "Reid, I don't think that's a good idea." "Look, yes I'm invested, I know that. But I also know her and-" "Reid, no. This is the reason we such have procedures." "But I-" "Reid." Hotchner's tone translated finality. Spencer's shoulders sank in defeat. He had figured that if he had been the one conducting the interview, maybe it would have been less traumatic for you. He hated the idea of not being there for you, with you, during such a trying moment. He bit his bottom lip.

"I'll do it," volunteered Morgan. Reid felt slight comfort at that, Morgan was one of the few people he would entrust his life to. He could entrust you to him for the interview, even if he didn't like it. Hotchner nodded. "Reid, you work with Garcia, focus on finding other victims with the same MO to help build the profile." Reid nodded and went to find his colleagues.

When you entered the police station, it was almost like he could feel your presence. He came to find you straight away, not wanting to leave alone even for a second. "Hey." "Hey." Reid immediately pulled you in for a meaningful embrace, burying his face in your hair. The smell of your shampoo, conditionner and body wash were bliss to his nostrils. They were a promise that you were here, you were safe, you were okay. Morgan watched from afar, a small smile playing at his lips. He knew Reid, and the hug you exchanged was both too hasty and too tight to be anything casual. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry to have to make you come in, but they're going to do- well I wanted to do it but they wouldn't let me, so it's-"

A slightly older, very muscular and gentle man stepped forward, holding out his hand to you. You shook it. "I'm Agent Derek Morgan. I'm one of Spencer's colleagues. I'll be the one conducting the interview, seeing as there's a conflict of interest with you and Spencer. I hope you can understand that." You introduced yourself and looked at Spencer before answering Derek. "Yes, I understand, it's- it's not a problem." "Great, if you could just follow me, please?" You licked your lips and sent Spencer a look, which he answers with a nod of reassurance and a small smile, before following Derek.

"You can close your eyes if it makes you more comfortable." You were sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair. The light above you was ticking at uneven intervals and the room smelt of worry. You didn't know how you could get any more comfortable, but listening to Morgan's even, alto voice helped a bit. "Okay." You closed your eyes. "You told Agent Rossi that you crossed the victim somewhere around quarter to eleven. Is that correct?" "Uh, yes." "Where did you cross her?" "In the main hall." "Where were you going?" "Um, I had just been to the bathroom and I was heading to my Anglo-American Literary Survey class." "Okay, can you describe to me everything about the moment when you crossed the victim? What you saw, what you felt, smelled, heard? Was anything out of the ordinary?" You opened your eyes.

"Um, I'm sorry, but could you stop referring to Mary as the victim, please? She has a name, which is Mary Goldman, and a victim wasn't the only thing she was." Derek was slightly surprised at your comment but understood where you came from. Separating from the name was a way for profilers to gain some distance from the horrendous violence. Personally knowing the victim, you didn't have such luxury. "Of course, I apologise. What did you feel when you crossed Mary? Was anything out of place?"

You nodded in thanks and tried to bring yourself back to that moment. It seemed unreal, how such a small interaction suddenly held such importance. "O-Okay, uh, my hands are still a bit wet. There weren't any towels in the bathroom. I saw her after she saw me and we exchanged a smile. I thought she looked really pretty today, but I didn't tell her. We really don't know each other that well." "Okay, that's good. Was she wearing anything out of habit for her?" "Uhh, no, she was wearing a pleated skirt and a sweater vest. She often dresses like that, I don't know exactly why I thought she looked pretty. I guess she just looked happy. Nothing was out of the ordinary." "Good. Could you hear or smell anything?" "Yeah, well, there were the voices of other people in the hall. I can hear girls laughing. I smell Mary's perfume when she walks past me. She always wears the same one, it's Chanel, Mademoiselle Coco specifically, she told me once at a party."

"Okay, do you know where she's going?" "I- yeah, she's heading for her Behavioural Neuroscience class." "Is she walking in the right direction?" "Uh... Yes, yes, she is. She's not in too much of a hurry, though, she doesn't like the teacher." "So why is she heading there already, then? The class only starts at 11:30." "She likes to reread the material from the previous week before the class starts." "Why doesn't she like the teacher?" "No one does, all he does is read off his slides and he's a jerk when it comes to grading."

Morgan suppressed a smile at your comment. "Okay, thank you so much, Y/N, this was very helpful." "Was it? I didn't feel like-" "Yes, I promise you've just shared some crucial pieces of information." "O-Okay, if you say so."

All eyes were on Morgan as he entered the briefing room. He put his paper coffee cup down on the table and looked at Hotch. "Nothing was out of the ordinary. Mary was wearing habitual clothes and the same perfume she always wore. She was heading to the same class, as she did weekly, at the same time. My guess is this guy knew her routine and did a blitz attack. Y/N gave me the number of Mary's best friend, and according to her, Mary didn't have any guys in her life except for her dad and brother."

Hotchner nodded. Spencer couldn't help but feeling proud of you for being able to go through with the interview and to provide such useful information, too. He'd have to congratulate you when he got home. "Pretty boy and I found three similar victims in the last three years. They weren't connected to this case because they were in another university, just on the other side of the state line. Last year, three girls, university students, were killed, same MO, all disappeared for about three hours before being found dead in front of the university, they attended," Garcia spoke from the speaker. Spencer nodded in agreement to her words. "What did the police find back then?" asked Emily. "Nothing, they- uh, did all they could during the month that the three murders happened but after the third victim, the unsub stopped," Spencer answered. "Stopped?" Emily repeated, brows drawn together in confusion. "Yeah, he just- stopped killing and disappeared. Our best guess is that something triggered him then and that the same thing triggered him now."

"Oh, another thing," Garcia sounded reluctant to share the information she had, "I looked at all the victims' pictures and... well, I'll just send them to you, that'll be easier."

Spencer's blood ran ice cold as he stared at the four girls on the screen. They all looked exactly like you.

Taglist : (all those of you who wanted a part two <3) @princess-ofthe-pages @usuck @theylovemelody @empressgraytea @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @lillianacristina

[javierduffy]

OHHHHH MY GOD. oh. oh my god.

✴︎Neighborhood #2 (Laika)✴︎

this is part 1 of a gift for @javierduffy because i said id make javier and kieran fish together and i intend to follow through !!!! ∘𓈒⚬⋆𓆣⋆⚬𓈒∘ close ups and explanations under the cut ∘𓈒⚬⋆𓆣⋆⚬𓈒∘

close up of his cute lil' face that i based on this piece of fanart bc it forever lives in my head

his pony tail felt too hard for me to make 3d and so i decided to just draw it out on a 2d plane and use that for it and i really love how it turned out !!

boot appreciation bc i spent so long modeling his jeans to hang over his boots like it felt like hell but god was it worth it in the end....

also i wasnt too sure on how to do it but i did try my best to incorperate his bowwed legs with the help of reference images online !!

also i love how his lil tie n collar turned out so close ups of those :3

thank you to javierduffy for the art that you post and anypne reading this please go check out their art its so pretty !!!!

im also very willing to answer any questions anyone has about either the model itself or my process <3

[supercutszns]

rotten to the touch; luke castellan

series masterlist

wc: 3.2k

pairing: pre-tlt luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: you’re pretty sure you’re an awful person. you’re pretty sure luke castellan is too. and you’re pretty sure you want to make out with him.

warnings: reader is flawed & not the greatest, luke is ... a little dark🫣, small mention of blood, swearing, lots of making out but no explicit nsfw, a bit toxic, & no more more ‘i can fix him’ or ‘i can make him worse’ it’s ‘he can make ME worse’

notes: this is… sluttier than my usual stuff so it’s not as good but i’m trying, feedback is appreciated! also i wonder what cabin we think this reader would be in, let me know where you’d place her im curious :) maybe i’ll write more of her in the future she’s interesting!! and thank you for 100 followers i am so grateful<3 designated song for this fic is crush by ethel cain

You are a miserable, wicked, asshole of a person, and everybody knows it. Including you.

It’s unclear to you why you turned out this way—every reason to blame never satiates the fury searing your insides. All the campers hate you. The counsellors, too. Even Chiron looks down on the viciousness inside you. You are Camp Half-Blood’s black sheep; a mean, bitter person with no love for the people around you. And it’s not just for show. You know you’re rotten. You know the anger will never go away.

It’s evident in the things you think about other people—the way you pick them apart in your head, toss them aside, because they just don’t see it. This miserable, unforgiving world, with children sleeping on wooden floors because the people who created you think you disposable. Because they can just make more of you. More, more, more, until one of you comes out rotten, born of all the ugliness they have inside them. You are the worst parts of Godly blood. The wrathful parts.

Everyone hates you. Everyone hates a person with an unquenchable anger.

But everyone loves Luke Castellan.

He’s a saint at Camp Half-Blood if there ever was one. Handsome, generous, kind. Goes out of his way to help out the new kids and gives them homes in his cabin. He’s the best swordsman in camp by a mile. Shit, you’d even love Luke Castellan if you didn’t know any better.

But you do, and you don’t, and it’s complicated, okay?

Because there’s something you know about Luke Castellan that nobody else does: he’s miserable and wicked, too.

You see it in his eyes sometimes. The way they look at you at dinner, when you’re picking at your food away from anyone else at your table. Something familiar rises in them, and your stomach twists. His body tenses whenever someone mentions his father, but the smiles he flashes are so charismatic nobody notices. But you do. It’s exciting.

During sword practice, he quips back and forth with the kids and laughs whenever they take a jab at him. He’s light, easy, carefree. But you see how he holds back, the tension in his shoulder, the way the arc of his sword never fully finishes. So you wait until everybody leaves and he’s alone, with the training dummies and the setting sun. And you. Hiding.

He slashes through them and spears through their heads. You see it, the gnashing of his teeth, the sweat curling down his cheeks. There’s something there. A chasm he’s hopeless to fill.

Before you know it, you’re going out of your way to catch him training alone. It’s creepy, you know, and awful, you know, but the more you watch him the more you see a sort of violence scabbed under his skin.

Whenever you see him now, the feeling you get is entirely foreign to you. It’s almost . . . longing.

Wherever she is, you’re pretty sure Aphrodite’s having a cosmic fucking laugh. And you’re sure she’s laughing double tonight.

The Aphrodite cabin is hosting some secret party for the older counsellors. You’re definitely of age to be a counsellor, but you’ve never been made one because that would probably make half the campers drop out. Chiron and Mr. D don’t know what to do with you. You’re sure you’ll be kicked out of camp soon for good.

But you’re here anyways, for a reason you don’t want to admit, and you stay tucked in a corner as the world around you mingles. Luke is on the other side of the room, lovely as always, laughing with a few other counsellors. He brings a drink up to his lips, and you have a startling thought of what it would be like to kiss him. And you’re fucked. You’re so fucked. Because for the first time in your life you want something tangible, something real. You want to hear him and feel him and pry him apart, and a part of you wants him to actually see you, see all the awful things that might make you the same. You feel like a teenage girl with a crush, and it is infuriating.

An Aphrodite girl comes up to you with a foolish smile. “Hey, sorry, you want a drink?”

“Fuck off, you idiot,” you snarl.

You wait for her to leave. She doesn’t. “You know, you don’t have to be so mean all the time,” she says evenly. “If you’re here, you might as well enjoy it. So yes, I want to give you a drink.”

“Have you ever thought that I’m not being mean? Maybe I just am.”

You glare at her. She looks you up and down. “Sure,” she shrugs, walking away. There’s a vivid picture in your mind of her falling through a hole in the cabin floor. It doesn’t soothe you, but at least the fantasy is there.

The night drones on. You’re sick of the smells and the laughs and the heat. And you’re sick of yourself. You can’t believe, underneath all your sourness, you came here to stare at a boy you barely know, and you don’t even know why. He’s fascinating, and you resent him, and he’s also beautiful. But he’s looked back at you all of three times tonight and you’re sick of the way your skin crawls when he does.

Leaving the cabin brings the relief of the cool night air, and the singularity of your body. You are the only one who feels this rage. You are the only one who hates.

To stave off your discomfort you walk around to the back of the cabin, to the crest of the hill facing the water. The stars above twinkle at you in spite. There’s a bitterness in your throat you want to wash down with something worse (maybe you should have taken that drink), but you know it won’t matter. Nothing matters. Those stars and whatever they hide are apparently the only important things in the universe, so why should anyone care about anything?

They stars only get brighter. It’s probably their goal to piss you off. You grunt, “Oh, fuck you,” to them. It’s not enough, never nearly enough to expel the rotten part of you. “Fuck you. Fuck off!” You groan at the sky. Nothing happens. Until:

“I’m guessing you’re not having a fun night.”

You whirl around. It’s hard to see in the dark, but whatever light is left catches a long scar on a cheek. Your stomach knots.

“Yeah, me neither,” Luke Castellan says, hands in his pockets as he meanders towards you.

Even when he’s close enough, you don’t say anything. If you do, you’re afraid it’ll be something ugly. Like I kind of want to make out with you. Are you awful too? I need a lobotomy.

The thoughts almost make you laugh. Been a long time since you’ve been funny.

He nods at the sky. “Those things don’t talk. You do know that, right?” He’s still so captivating, so self-assured, even when there’s no one around but you.

“Gods, you’re the worst,” you scoff. You really mean it, so you can’t look him in the eye.

“Then why have you been staring at me all night?”

It catches you so off-guard that you whip back to face him. He has an eyebrow raised and the itch of a smile that makes you burn with shame. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He shrugs, leaning against the cabin wall. “I’m not stupid. You’ve been brooding in the corner watching me the second you came in.” He cocks his head to the side, adding, “Actually, you stare at me all the time. At meals and stuff. I really hope you don’t think you’re being subtle.”

You huff. “Okay, if we’re really being honest here, you started that! You do it too! All the time!”

His hands shot up like he was being arrested. “Hey, I never said I minded it. A guy’s . . . just gotta wonder. What’s up with you spying on me when I’m training alone, anyways?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You watch me when there’s nobody else around. I’m not blind. It’s weird. If you want tips you can just ask me. Or if you like what you’re looking at, at least be upfront about it.”

You speak before you can take in that last sentence, or the way his smile took pride in itself when he said it, or how embarrassed you should probably feel. “You didn’t answer my question about why you started staring at me first.”

The anger (shame) blinding you made you forget how close you are to him right now. Close enough to touch, but not enough to see. But almost there. Almost.

“People think you’re mean,” Luke says after a moment, his dark eyes probing you. The words curl out of his mouth slowly, like he’s choosing them all with care. “You’re rude. You never listen to anyone. You judge everything. They all think you’re awful.” Again, he looks you over. “I’m not so sure.”

“If I’m awful, then you’re awful,” you spit before he can say anything else.

He just shrugs. “Well, I guess that’s why I’m not sure.”

It’s irritating, his calmness. He has the same anger you do. How come he can just . . . shove it down? You try to unearth any fury in his eyes, but it’s too far back. Simmering. “Jesus,” you mutter, “You’re worse than me.”

He looks genuinely taken aback by this. His scar deepens when his brows wrinkle. “What?”

“You’re a pretender—that’s what you are.” It’s your turn now, to step closer, to make his skin crawl. “Look at you. Everyone loves you. You’re this perfect golden boy and you’re sweet and attentive and whatever the fuck but you know it’s one giant lie. At least I’m honest, but you just sit pretty and act like you don’t have that . . . thing that I have. Resentment. Insanity. Whatever you want to call it. We’re the same, but I’m the only one getting shit for it.”

Now, you are close enough to really see him. The patterns on the wood behind him frame the vision of his ever-shifting face. You realize that this, like most things are to Luke Castellan, is a challenge. You also can’t remember the last time you saw him lose one.

But when you play, you play to win.

“You don’t know that,” he dares.

“Oh, I do. You’re rotten, Castellan,” you sneer, index finger jabbed into his chest. You can feel his heartbeat if you concentrate. “And you’re not owning up to it, so you’re also a coward.”

However scathing you look, it isn’t enough. If anything it only makes Luke’s manner more playful. Nothing feels playful anymore. Everything, inside and outside of your mind, feels like constant, exhausting war. Maybe that’s why you don’t slap his hand off you when it wraps around your wrist, keeping it pressed to the middle of his chest. His heartbeat thrums through you.

He tilts his face towards you, grinning, “Then why do you want to kiss me?”

All right. What the fuck. It feels like you’ve been electrocuted.

“What the—what are you talking about?” You blunder, but he knows, of course he knows, because there’s something between the two of you that has been formed and understood by eye contact alone. He can probably read your mind. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you’d like to read his just as much.

He cocks his head. “I mean, you did call me pretty,” he teases, and it’s almost endearing. “You’re pretty like this too.” His other hand comes up to your face, and you’re surprised you don’t flinch when his thumb gently smooths the crease in your eyebrows. “Don’t call me a coward, heathen. Then we’ll both be embarrassed.”

The nickname makes you want to fight, but the touch makes you dizzy. “You don’t want to kiss me, Luke,” you say with all the control you have, which, right now, is increasingly sparse.

“You’ve gotta stop telling people what they want,” he muses. The hand on your wrist traces further down your forearm. The one on your face snakes around your hips. “One of your more disagreeable qualities.”

His words fan over you. That fire simmering in his eyes has finally come to the surface.

“One of?” You challenge.

“You let me make out with you and I’ll give you a whole list.”

You snort, hoping it hides the shortness in your breath. “What a charmer you are.”

His lips brush yours. “Well, that’s what makes me so rotten, isn’t it?”

There’s hardly time to unravel if that’s a question or a statement because you grab a fistful of his shirt and he kisses you. Your heart detonates. It is not rotten in the slightest.

His body is warm and firm. You smell the cabin wood and the drink on his breath. It all matters, and none of it does. You’re warm everywhere as he wraps both arms around your back, and the way he kisses is, unfortunately, exactly how you thought he would. Your hands are tentative in his hair. So is your mouth on his. But Luke is so deliberate in the way he kisses that you know he’s thought about this, too. It makes you all the warmer.

His hand takes your jaw and tilts it up. You know your neck is shaky with breath, and you’re pretty sure he’s admiring it. You don’t complain when he presses a kiss to your jaw, then another one, like he’s testing the waters. “You’re so nice like this,” he mutters almost to himself, thumb running across your neck. “If only people could see you.”

“Then they’d see how mean you are too, no?” You huff. “You don’t want that.”

Another kiss to your jaw. “Not yet, sweetheart.”

Whatever feeling is harbouring in your body right now, it’s so fulfilling it almost makes you uncomfortable. You want to reject it. You’re not supposed to want things. Worse, you’re not supposed to get things. Luke starts marking a path down your neck and you are so determined to enjoy this that you’d kiss a fucking baby if someone asked you to. You might as well be a saint.

He bites the pulse point on your neck, sure to leave a mark, and a shudder rips through you. You’re pretty sure the bastard starts laughing. You hit his shoulder in retaliation.

“Easy, heathen,” he reprimands in your ear, and you know he’s still smiling.

“Don’t—don’t call me that.” You hate that you start to smile, too, and that your stomach burgeons with butterflies when he pulls back to look at you.

He touches the corner of your upturned mouth, kiss-bitten and red. His expression is boyish. “Hard to when it makes your face do that,” he goads. “I thought it was impossible for you to smile.”

“Be quiet.” You thread a hand through his camp necklace and bring him closer. You can almost taste his mouth on yours, but he sweeps past you at the last minute.

He gently tugs your earlobe with his teeth and whispers, “Yes ma’am.”

Fuck him. Seriously. You might have to.

It’s a tangle of teeth and hands and smiles kept hidden, as you slip your fingertips beneath his shirt and he does the same, and you’re both angry and greedy and incredibly destructive, but it doesn’t matter yet. Now you’re just teenagers fooling around at the back of a party, and it’s the first good thing either of you have had in a long time. Luke leaves you gasping whenever his mouth hits certain places, maybe too many places, and he teases you accordingly. “So sensitive,” he taunts, pressing his knee between your legs so he can see you squirm. You rake your nails through his scalp and he tilts his head back to groan. It shuts him up for a while.

He bites your neck until you say his name. You trace lines on his stomach till he takes your hand in his own. You’ve been hungry for something your whole life, and you finally have something to sink your teeth into. For better or for worse.

After Hades knows how long, laughter floats out from the front of the cabin. Sounds of feet tripping over each other and muffled goodbyes. You pull away from Luke, chests heaving together. His hair is wild, his shirt crumpled, and he looks entirely satisfied with it. Smug little shit. “Party’s letting out,” you mutter.

“What a damn shame.” His hand rubs your jaw, and it’s too tender a gesture so you angle your head away to peek over the side of the cabin. You barely pay attention to the kids straggling back to their bunks.

“Is now the time you tell me all my horrible qualities?” You ask once you’re ready to look at him again.

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Actually, I came up with more since I said that so I’m pretty sure it’ll take more than one night.” He fakes a wince, “Might have to spread it out for a few days.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, you ass.”

“I’ll give you one for starters.” You feel like a tornado when he kisses the juncture between your jaw and your neck. “Your hands are too cold.” They’re tucked underneath his shirt right now, pressed against his back. You don’t move them. “And,” he adds, “you’re incredibly crass.”

“Thanks, dipshit.”

“Thank you for proving my point, heathen.”

The commotion at the front gets louder, and you know your time to go undiscovered runs short. “You meet me again tomorrow, and I start telling you the rest?” He raises his brows.

The prospect both repulses and excites you, although perhaps they’re hand-in-hand. You tentatively reach up to trace the scar on his face. A faint, jagged line that holds scripture within it. His eyes flutter shut for a moment. “Even though I’m rotten?” You ask, and there’s an echo of mischief in your voice, too.

He’s got a strange expression when he looks at you. “That’s not true.”

He leans down, angles his head to kiss you. It’s slow, but bitter, and he bites down on your lip until you’re pretty sure there’s blood. “Luke,” you murmur, and he kisses you softer. You lean into him like a hapless, lovesick fool.

After you part, he loosens his grip on you. The bumbling campers have gotten louder. He stares at you, and you see the chasm in his eyes again, brimming with fire. Same as yours. You know you’ll see him tomorrow.

He says, “You’re not rotten. You’re right.”

And damn it, you really do believe him.

[ilydeku]

izuku loves to talk about you during interviews

- anything and every topic it will ALWAYS be about you

- the question won't even be remotely related to you and still izukus answer will revolve around "y/n, my wife!!" <3

- oh, the glint in his eyes, the peaking smile when he speaks about you, lover boyyy

- the media knows he LOVE LOVES you, they think it's funny for this big, confident, mighty hero to be reduced to sap when it comes to you

- it's like his whole is personality is HIS WIFE

- the journalists lowkey get so SICK of him for this, they don't want to invite him anymore 😭

- but they kinda have to, due to to his status as #1

"Good evening everyone and welcome Hero Talk! Tonight we'll be staring someone you all know and love, single handedly the greatest hero of all time, Deku! Alright, Deku how are you tonight?"

"Feeling pretty good! This is one of my wife's favorite shows, so I'm even more grateful to be here. And how are you?"

"Oh, same old. Really, just living. Now, we wanted to ask you some fun questions. Let's start with this one. Why did you want to become a hero?"

"Wow, haha! That really brings be back to my youth. When I was kid, my biggest influence was All Might, and he miraculously became my mentor. He was a good hero, and a good man. I wanted to be just like him: fearless, persevering, saving people with I smile. I would beg my mom everyday to watch this video on the computer of him saving a bunch a people. I was really swayed by All Might. I wanted to become a hero to make an impact in the world. I wanted to save people with a smile too."

"That sounds really endearing, Deku. I remember All Might's reign. He wasn't number one on the top charts all those years for nothing. So, did you ever think you'd be standing as Japan's top hero?"

"Well, it was never really my goal to become number one. That was Kacchan's- Dynamight's. My dream was, like I said, to become a hero and save others. But I have to say, it really is a blessing. I'd like to thank my Mom, All Might, my friends, and especially my wife for who I've become. My Mom has really done a lot for me growing up: protecting, encourage, and just always caring for me. All Might has kinda been that father figure for me when my Dad was away. My friends have shown me what it's like to work together and really be part of a heart. And my wife? Haha...I can't thank her enough for all the times she's been right by my side, even before we were together. Nothing I can say or do will ever be enough to express how much she means to me."

"Mm. Quite the supportive group. Your wife sounds like quite the lady!"

"She is. She's wonderful."

"Moving on to the next question, do you use social media often?"

"Occasionally, yes?? My wife uses it regularly, posting about us when we go out and stuff. It's mostly for her family to see how she's doing. She handles most of my official accounts. She says it's to be more appealing to the public, and I guess to show that there's more to heroes on the inside?? I'm not really sure, but I trust her process. Although, I'd rather be appealing to her alone."

"The public will always interested in a hero's private life! Now, Deku, what is your ideal setting of relaxation?"

"My wife doesn't like places that are too crowded or noisy, so maybe a cozy day at the beach?- but early in the morning or in the evening when the crowds calm down. Maybe a movie theatre, but days after the movie is released so it's just us together. Actually, a lazy day at home together is great too! Cooking meals and watching a movie on the couch? Really, any place is relaxing if my wife is with me."

(am i questioning Deku's wife or Deku!?) "How scenic! Those sound very fitting for you!! How about any restaurants?"

"Not really. My wife really knows how to cook, it's amazing! I love her home-cooked meals, so there's no way I'd go out of my way to a restaurant. But if my wife is feeling it, I'll be sure to make reservations."

"(sigh)"

"(smiling warmly)"

[i-cant-sing]

TT AU PART 13

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Part 7 is here. Part 8 is here. Part 9 is here. Part 10 is here. Part 11 is here. Part 12 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

"I cant do this."

He rolls his eyes. "Not with that attitude." He runs a hand through his hair before nodding at you to follow him. You both enter the dance studio that his grandfather built for his wife inside the house because he loved her and well, he had the money.

"Silas, no one can learn ballet in a month." You state again and he lets out an exhale while Cadbury is bringing in about a dozen of ballet flats. "Even if your grandmother were to try and teach me, I still wont be good enough to perform in front of the queen-"

"Your voice is shrill and piercing and thoroughly unpleasant."

You blink at him before scowling. "A simple "shut up" would suffice, you know."

Silas glances at you. "What is this really about? Are you pretending to have low self esteem so I could offer you sympathy?"

"Excuse me?" Your tone sharpened. "Not that I like to remind anyone of the favours I do, but maybe you have forgotten that I literally saved your social image and status from being tarnished yesterday? Or did you forget about our Nikkah?"

Silas suddenly leaned down, bringing his face close to yours. You backed away, and he tilted his head slightly. "And I'm eternally grateful for that, missus, but the Nikkah saved your image too. Must I remind you that I converted to Islam too?"

"Because it benefitted you, not me." You spat out, only to inhale sharply as he gripped your chin firmly.

"As is the stipend I've been paying you, yet you fail to write a single article on the murders."

He pouted, feigning hurt. "Besides, are you saying I am not a real Muslim? That I have malicious intentions? Doesnt that go against your teachings- what is it? Not to judge someone?"

"I dont need to judge when its all so apparent-"

"Ah, good to see the love birds again!" Sarah's voice made you two pull away from each other. She clasped her hands as she made her way towards you two.

"Nana." Silas greeted her and kissed her cheeks. "Thank God you're here. My sweetheart is so concerned over this performance, even though I've assured her many times that she will be learning from the best. There's just no way she would mess this up!"

Sarah laughed heartily. "Stop buttering me up! And she is right to be concerned. Anyone would be nervous to perform in front of an audience, especially the queen!"

Silas wrapped one arm each around your and Sarah's shoulders, pulling you two close to him. "I only see a queen and a princess here. There's no need to be nervous. Just have fun!"

Just have fun? What kind of bullshit motivation is that-

Sarah smiled and nodded. "He's right, Y/n. As long as you're having fun, you're going to be just fine darling!"

-

Colin never thought he'd have to resort to day drinking.

And yet here he is, adding whatever he could grab his hands on and fill the flask with and mixing it in his coffee.

I need this. He reasoned with himself. Its not that much, just small doses to keep me sane when Y/n comes.

And then you do, in your Sherlock Holmes disguise, cheerfully greeting him before going to Will's office to work on the murder story.

He takes another sip of his coffee as he tries to process... well, everything.

Why was I attracted to you? Why am I still attracted to you even though I acted as a witness to your wedding with that rich bastard-

Another sip. He scowled before adding some more liquour, then he sipped it. Better.

Whats the best way to get over a crush? Crush? Is that what you were? An infatuation, a passing by fancy? So, how do I get over-

Wait. He set his mug down. You know that he and the boys all know that your marriage to Silas is a sham. You never really hid the fact but now they had all witnessed that it was just a rushed, possibly contractual marriage that Silas wants to save his ass.

So the marriage is bound to end. He doesnt have to get over you. No, not really. If anything, I should be spending more time with you. Yes. Yes! This way, when you and Silas end things, Colin will be right there to comfort you and support you! He needs to be the first man there after you dump Silas, lest anyone else gets ideas and wants to marry you as well.

Colin got up and managed to make his way to his boss's office without bumping into anyone. He's going to ask to work on the murder story and then you two will spend time-

"No. Keep working on the asylum story. We have enough people on the murder case." His boss dismissed him.

Colin slumped in his desk as he looked at the coffee mug. Eh, what the hell? He took another sip and another solution popped in his head.

If he cant help you with the murder story, then perhaps you can help him with the asylum story!

-

Silas handed you the invite.

"How did you get it so fast?" You asked, examining the small paper with elegant writing. It was the invite to the Gentleman's club, the one Henry owns. You'd asked Silas to get you an invite to what was an exclusive, members only club (when you tried entering the club, the men at the front laughed you out.)

Silas looked at you unamused, with his arms crossed over his chest. "Must I remind you who I am?"

A pompous ass?

"Of course not, my duke." You said mockingly, before raising a brow at him. "I suppose it would make sense for you to get easy access to shady places like this. You might be their popular customer."

"Oh darling, I'm popular everywhere." Silas shot back before dismissing you with his hand. "You can go now."

"What? You arent going to ask me why I'm going there?" You asked him. "Maybe you dont care that I am going there, but arent you worried about Mrs Fitzgerald or Duchess Y/n being in a place like that?"

Silas shrugged nonchalantly. "No." He leaned back in his chair. "I trust you not to screw up or entangle yourself in scandals. But even if you do end up in trouble, I will stand by you."

"You will?" You couldn’t hide the disbelief in your tone.

He nodded. "Of course. Look, I know we are in this... unconventional relationship and it appears that I couldnt care less about your existence, but you still carry my surname next to yours. And I wont allow anyone to disrespect what or who is associated with me. So, rest assured-" He leans forward, resting his arms on the mahogany desk and clasped his hands. "you have my support in all your endeavours, Mrs Silas."

A small smile formed on your lips. Maybe he's not so bad.

"Thank you, Silas- oh, can you drop me off there?" You knew he was going to leave in the carriage soon.

"No, I dont want my beautiful, pure bred stallions to go through those dirty streets. You can walk."

Jerk.

You stomped out of his study, not noticing the butler going in after you with the dessert you'd made for yourself last night.

"And what's this?" Silas asked him as he took a bite of the decadent, gooey chocolatey dessert.

"Uh, the duchess called it "brown-ies", but I've never heard of it before." Cadburry watched Silas ate it and sighed dreamily. "Do you like it, sir?"

"No." Silas pushed the empty plate towards him. "But I'd rather not have grandmother eat her cooking and say something. Bring me the leftovers."

"Y/n- oh, are you going somewhere?" Sarah asked just as you were about to leave.

"Yes, um- I'm going to meet my friends." Its not like you could tell her that you worked in the paper disguised as a man.

"Male friends?" She asked.

"Yes. My old flatmates." You watched her smile falter. "What?"

"Nothing, dearie. Enjoy your time with them! I hope you'll join us for dinner." You nodded and left while Sarah looked for her grandson.

"Where's Silas? I must speak to him this instant." She asked the maid, who informed her that the duke had went to play tennis just moments ago.

"Tennis?"

The maid nodded. "Yes. With his uncles."

Sarah was a little surprised to hear that. Not the tennis part, no. Silas is extremely well at any sport he plays, but she knows her sons arent ones who are good at athletics, let alone at a sport as strenuous as tennis.

An idea popped in her head.

-

You stood outside the Gentleman's club, watching people go in. Smoothing your hands over your black velvet dress, you made your way to the door.

After handing them your invitation, they let you inside and you saw a waiter handing everyone masquerade masks from a silver tray. Perhaps it was the theme for the club tonight, or maybe the club just gave masks to everyone to conceal their identities.

You were given a black and gold mask that covered the upper half of your face. As you adjusted the mask over your face, you heard a familiar voice.

"I need to see her. Now." You looked over your shoulder and saw Benjamin harshly whisper to one of the waiters. "She told me to come and I'm late as it is. Dont make her wait any longer!" You turned your head away as the waiter lead Benjamin into the club, all while Benjamin yanked a mask off the tray and pulled it over his head.

What is Benny doing here?

You quickly followed him inside, lest you lost sight of him, which you did as soon as you stepped into the main hall and were immediately stunned to your place at the sight.

Loud jazz music played by a band live, smell of smoke and alcohol filled the air and people. There were so many people, despite the club being "exclusive". And as your eyes scanned them, trying to spot familiar faces, your heart dropped at the realisation of what they were doing.

This was... an adult club. That kind of adult club, the one where there are absolutely no limitations on who is doing what with whom, all drunk on pleasure and drugs of course, no inhibitions. You spotted men with men, women with men, and more than one person pleasing another man.

Thats why this is an exclusive club, why they gave everyone masks. Because if word got out that a someone was here doing.... something that was generally a taboo and even punishable by both God and the law, well it would put them in huge trouble. People came here to let loose, to give in to their darkest desires.

What the hell is Benny doing here?

Averting your eyes, you looked for Benjamin and spotted him from afar, going into a room.

Oh God, please dont let it be a- please dont let sweet Benny be a depraved creep.

You waited for him to come out and after about 20 minutes, the door finally opened.

Benny walked out first, adjusting his mask again and then leaving. You're about to follow him, perhaps even confront him for being here when someone else walks out of the room as well.

A tall woman wearing a bright red, backless dress and a golden mask concealing her identity. But what really stood out were two things- first, her fiery red-orange hair that was styled into voluminous Hollywood waves. And second was her figure, her athletic built, or more specifically her broad shoulders and muscled arms.

Everything about this woman screamed important. And if it werent for her looks that demanded attention, then it was certainly her aura. People parted the way when she walked past them, all looking at her as if she was their saviour, an angel or divinity among men, which is ironic considering where you were.

You jumped as you felt an arm snake around your waist.

"What the hell?!" You looked at the culprit, who turned out to be a blonde woman drunk off her head.

"Oh dont be like that! Come on, love, let me show you a good time-" She tried to touch you again but you backed away before she could.

"No, thank you." You dismissed her, going back to looking at the red head.

"Prude." The blonde muttered before following your gaze. "Oh so thats what you're into? Well, put me in a red wig and we can play like that!"

"No, thanks." You huffed, eyes still trained on the woman in red.

The blonde scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, its not like you'd be able to sleep with the club owner."

"She's the club owner? I thought Mr Blackwood owned this place."

"He does, but Lady Scarlett there runs this place, from entertainment to management. She does it all!"

Lady Scarlett? Fitting name.

Pushing away the blonde one more time, you looked for Lady Scarlett, except you lost sight of her now. You scanned the entire ballroom, but she was nowhere in sight.

"Shit." You mumbled, turning around only to stumble back as you came face-to-face with her, or well... face-to-chest. She towered over you.

Her bright red lips smiled knowingly at you. "Looking for me?" She asked in a sultry voice, stalking towards you until you were backed up against the wall.

"N-no-" You yelped as she suddenly grabbed both of your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head.

You stared at her wide eyed as she leaned down, hovering inches away from your face and thats when it hit you-

Lady Scarlett is a man.

Of course! The muscled arms, the manly built, and now on close inspection, you saw the clean shave under the makeup too.

"Y-you're a man." You stated in disbelief, hoping to catch her or him, off guard. What even is he? A drag queen? A trans? You dont know if they existed in victorian era.

Scarlett tilted her head. "So? Are you the only one who is allowed to cross dress as the other gender?"

What? No, no way she knows-

She leaned in closer, whispering in your ear. "Did I catch you off guard, Mr Holmes?"

She knows!

"How- how did you-"

She smirked. "I know everyone that is associated with Mr Blackwood." She brought a hand up to your face, and you noticed a golden ring on her ring finger. She cupped your face. "And I know for a fact Henry wouldnt like his latest infatuation snooping around in a place like this. So..." She leaned into you again, staring into your eyes. "Leave."

You didnt have to be told twice. Lady Scarlett, that cross dresser creeped you out, even more so when she already knew you.

Stumbling out of the club, you removed your mask, dropping it to the ground. The fresh night air filled your lungs and cleared out the smokey air from the club. It was quiet outside, considering it was way past midnight and everyone was home now.

And I have to walk all the way home. You huffed, rubbing your arms. Because my husband would rather I get hypothermia than let his precious ponies walk through these streets.

You turn around, walking away from the club to see if there was a carriage available at this time, when you hear a shrill scream from the alleyway you're walking past.

And there it is- a woman lying in a puddle of her own blood as huge, dark figure slashed her face over and over again. The moonlight hit the woman's face- a blonde woman-

-the blonde from the club.

Frozen in your place, the figure stood up and looked at you, not at all looking startled at being caught mutiliating someone. It was definitely a man, huge stature, and he stared at you, the dark night concealing his identity. He slowly bent down to pick something up, a top hat, dusting it off before placing it on his head.

And then he tipped his hat at you.

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck-

It wasnt until he took a step towards you that you finally broke out of your trance and ran. You ran and ran, not even risking a look back, not realising where you were running off to until you burst through their door, out of breath and paler than white paint.

"Y/n?" Colin rushed towards you, the Shepherd and Liam rushing into the living room as Colin helped you inside. "What happened? What's wrong?" He feared, as did all the boys, that Silas had done something to you.

"I- I- I-" You shake your head, the image of the dark figure running through your mind, the hat, the long cloak, the knife- it finally pieced together.

"I think I saw Jack the Ripper."

-

You sat at the police station with Colin. After explaining everything, he'd convinced you to report the murder.

The detective lead you inside the interrogation room, motioning for you to sit down as you began giving your statement.

"And who did you think the murderer was?"

"Jack the Ripper." Your answer made him roll his eyes. "And who might that be, miss?"

"I dont know." The investigator shook his head exasperated. "Of course you dont." He muttered, then sighed.

"So, what were you doing at this club?"

"Me?" You didnt pause for long. "I was invited there. My- my husband wanted me to attend on his behalf."

"Your husband-" he paused, reading your surname on the paper. "Fitzgerald? Wait, you're Mrs Silas Fitzgerald?" You nodded, making him sigh. "Guess it makes sense for you to be there..."

Whats that supposed to mean?

"Did you see anyone familiar there?"

"No." You answered curtly, before adding another detail. "Everyone was wearing masks. Couldnt recognise anyone even if I wanted to."

What? I'm not gonna rat out Benjamin and make him the prime suspect without gathering all the facts before.

It's definitely not because I have a soft spot for him since he reminds me of Qasim so much. Nope.

The door suddenly swung open and in walked what you assumed was the detectives superior since the man got up.

"Is this the witness for club murder?" The higher up asked him.

"Yes sir, she was just giving her statement-"

"No need. Dismiss the witness and the case. It's been handled." He told the detective who only nodded.

"Handled by who? You can't just dismiss the case!" You exclaimed getting up. But before he could reply, someone walked in from behind him.

"You can go now, Smith. I'll see Miss Y/n gets home safely." Henry patted the higher ups shoulder who left with the detective.

"What are you doing, Henry?" You crossed your arms.

"I could ask you the same." He leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms as well.

"I'm reporting a murder that happened outside your club! I saw him-"

"Saw who? Jack the Ripper?" He scoffed. "You think you saw him, but all you really saw was a dark shadow."

You shake your head. "I did see him-!"

"And how do you know that he's Jack the Ripper?" He pushed himself off the door frame, walking closer to you. "How do you know that he's the Ripper when no one knows who the man is?!"

You pursed your lips. You could argue that the victim profile and post mortem show a matching pattern but you doubt Henry is going to listen to reason.

"Even so, you should still let me give my statement. Why are you adamant on me not giving one? A woman was murdered for God's sake!" You try to walk past him, but he grabs your arm and yanks you back, making your chest collide with his.

"She was my employee. She worked for the club. And you-" his face hardened. "-you are insulting her death by making it a public frenzy. By stating that some sick nobody, someone who was nicknamed by the papers just to strike fear in people's hearts, killed her. I will not let you use her death so that your paper could make a quick buck! Jack the Ripper is a nobody!"

-

"Why do you think Blackwood's trying to cover up the murder?" Colin asked you as you two made your way towards your next destination.

"I dont know." You huffed. "Maybe he knows who the murderer is? Maybe he's protecting his business? Surely, if people were to hear that a serial killer made an appearance near his club, he'd lose clients."

"Or maybe he's the killer." You stopped and looked at him. Colin looked at you knowingly. "It would make sense for him to be Jack the Ripper, or at least the man who murdered that woman. It is very suspicious of him to probably bribing the coppers to drop the case."

You shake your head. "Its too obvious."

He rolled his eyes. "What? So Henry cant be the murderer because its “too obvious?” People make mistakes-"

"Not Henry." You cut him off. "He's too smart, calculating. There's got to be another reason for him to be sweeping this all under the carpet."

Colin shakes his head in disbelief, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looked ahead. "We're here."

You followed his gaze and saw the building. The sign on the gate read-

"Aveline's Asylum"

"Really? Right now?" You asked Colin, who just smiled cheekily.

"It'll take your mind off things. Just take a break and help me on this assignment and we can go back to speculating what Blackwood's motives are." He raised his brows. "Plus, I think you'll enjoy this one."

You followed him inside the asylum, walking through the lush green gardens and seeing the pristine white building ahead, you wondered how this would help Colin's "exposing horrendous hospital environments and patient care" article when all of this reall just screamed "rehab for the rich".

"Shouldnt we go to an asylum that is in much worse conditions than this? Possibly next to a workhouse?" You asked him, but Colin just smiled. "Why did you choose this place, Colin?”

"You'll see." He says before whispering to you. "Remember your script. And... action!”

While pretending to be insane (which was easy because all you had to say was that you don’t think being a mom or stay-at-home wife is your life’s purpose), you saw a familiar figure there. And he saw you too.

“Y/n? Colin?” Benjamin looked surprised. “What are you two doing here?”

“Working on an article.” Colin replied, glancing at the way you’d gotten quiet, staring at Benjamin.

“Oh. Right, the horrible healthcare environment. But why this place? Its practically one of the finest asylums, housing mostly the wealthy of London.”

Colin nodded. “I know! But I have a hunch about this place-”

“What are you doing here?” You cut him off.

“Me? Oh, I’m here to give haircuts.” Ben chuckled nervously. “Its not a noble cause, but the wealthy unwell patients do pay a lot.”

“Mmhm, where’s your hair kit?” You remember distinctly that Ben was very particular about using his own scissors, so he often carried his own.

Ben looked caught off-guard by your question, but he quickly recovered. “The nurses provided me with their own. Cant carry scissors around an asylum now, can I?”

How convenient.

Colin continued to make small talk with Ben, while you studied him. Even if you didn’t tell anyone that you saw Ben at the club the night of the murder, doesn’t mean that you didn’t suspect him. For all you know, appearances can be deceiving and this sweet man may just be the infamous Jack the Ripper.

Blonde haired, the kindest eyes, the sweetest smile, a golden retriever in human form- could Benjamin really have killed all those women so brutally? Then again, Ted Bundy was also known for his good looks and superficial charm.

Am I really comparing Benny to Ted Bundy? God, I hope I’m wrong.

“I should go now. See you at home?” Ben asked you, hopeful.

“Maybe.” You shrugged, Ben’s smile faltering at your answer. He then raised his hand to shake Colin’s and thats when you noticed a distinctly familiar golden ring on his hand.

The same one you’d seen on Lady Scarlett’s hand.

And just like that, everything fell into place.

-

By the time you’d reached home, you’d pieced out the story. Ben being at the exclusive club and being discrete about it, seen in a room with Lady Scarlett, both wearing the same rings-

He’s in a relationship with her. Or him.

Thats why Ben was at that club! Homosexuality or anything else that isn’t heterosexuality was simply not accepted in Victorian England, and was possibly punishable by law! Just look at Oscar Wilde! Ben is dating Scarlett, keeping it discrete, he never committed any murders because he’s not Jack the Ripper. He’s just not straight!

Oh, I’m so glad you’re not the Ripper, Benny. I knew you weren’t capable of committing such heinous crimes.

As for why he was at the asylum, maybe he’s telling the truth. He did come to give the rich patients a haircut because he needs the money to maintain Scarlett’s lifestyle or maybe be rich enough to whisk her/him away from the club.

Benny is such a gentleman.

Now that Benny is no longer a suspect, that leaves Henry to be the main suspect. Maybe he’s not the one killed the woman, maybe he hired someone? Or maybe Henry’s not the killer either, its just too- obvious.

“Why do you think Henry stopped me from reporting the murder?” You asked Silas as you whisked the eggs before adding them to the pan. Silas had entered the kitchen the moment he heard you were cooking, though he did shoot you a weird look for making scrambled eggs at 11 pm. With you running around London all day, you hadn’t found time to eat until now, and you were just looking for a quick meal really.

“He probably doesn’t want you scaring off his customers. If word gets out that a murderer, or as you claim- “The Ripper” was seen near the club, then people wont be frequenting the place. Or perhaps he’s protecting the murderer?” Silas suggests, swallowing as the smell of butter wafts through the kitchen.

You add cubes of cold butter in, then look at him. “What? You don’t believe that I saw the Ripper?”

“I believe that if you really saw the Ripper, then you wouldn’t still be alive. He had the time and the opportunity to get rid of you.Why else would the notorious killer would let a witness get away?” Silas crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the kitchen counter near the stove.

“Maybe because he targets prostitutes? All of his previous victims match that profile.”

“Like he could tell a difference-”

“Are you saying I look like a prostitute?” You dished out the eggs. “No, you’re saying that. I’m saying that the man you saw kill that woman was just an amateur who was caught offguard by you, otherwise he would’ve attacked you too.” Silas states before grabbing the plate of buttery scrambled eggs on toast from your hands.

“Hey! Thats mine-” “My kitchen, my eggs.” He smirked before walking off. “You can make yourself more, I need to feed my dogs first.”

You glared at him until he left the kitchen, not knowing whether he really was going to feed it to the dogs or it was just a lie disguised as an insult so that he could eat it himself.

It was the latter. Always.

-

The next day, after you’d taken another ballet lesson from Sarah, you were about to go out to investigate the club again but Sarah had other plans for you.

“Y/n, I need you to stay at home today.”

“Oh, is everything alright?” You ask. She never made you stay home before. “Are we having company?”

“No. I think that you should play some sports to keep yourself fit. As a ballerina, it is important to keep both the mind and the body sound, and what better way to achieve that than by playing in the sun!” She lead you outside towards the tennis court, hidden by the huge bushes for privacy from outsiders.

“Tennis?” You ask her, and she confirms it. “Yes. Do you know how to play?”

Do I know how to- if I wasn’t so obsessed with history and sciences (and my mom scared that me wearing a skirt would attract predators), I had plans on playing professionally. Qasim and I used to play tennis at the club he’d won a membership in. We were both very competitive but he was just always a little better than me. He always knew my moves, he read me like an open book.

I was second only to Qasim though. Everyone else? They ate dust.

“Yes, I do.” You smiled at her. “Who am I playing with?”

“Me.” Silas spoke from behind you, dressed in all-white tennis wear. He looked at Sarah unamused. “Nana, I thought you said you had a worthy opponent for me.”

You shot him a glare, but Sarah came to your defense. “Now, now. You don’t know how capable your wife is. And I’m willing to bet that she’d make you run out of breath, Silas.”

You smiled cheekily as Silas scoffed. “We’ll see.” Sarah places a hand on your back. “Why don’t you go get changed, dear? I had the maids prepare an outfit for you.” When you left, Sarah looked at Silas. “Now Silas, I know you play exceptionally well but you must remember that this match is more of a way to spend time with your wife. Not a way to show off. So, be a gentleman, hm?”

You huffed as you returned to the tennis court. What the hell is this? Silas gets to wear a shirt and pants and I have to wear a full length dress with a corset and a hat?!

Mom would probably have let me gone pro if this was the official tennis wear for women.

Sarah sat on the side lines and watched you two play. Silas let you serve first and after a couple of back-and-forth, you won the first point. And then the next. And the next.

“Ah, you’re doing fantastic, Y/n!” Sarah cheered before standing up when the butler informed her that a guest has come to see her. “I’ll be back! You two keep playing!”

As Sarah left, you couldn’t help but tease Silas. What? He still makes you sleep on the floor! “So, how does it feel to lose to a girl?”

“I wouldn’t know.” And with that, Silas threw the ball in the air and served.

The ball shot past your head, just centimetres away from hitting you.

“What the hell? I wasn’t ready-”

“Lame excuses dont work on me.” He pulled out another ball and bounced it. “Are you ready now, duchess?”

You scowled at him before getting in position. “I’m ready, jerk.”

You lost two of the three matches. The first match you almost won was because Sarah was there and Silas was going easy on you, but when Sarah left, Silas regained all those points by serving topspin and slice serves. By the second match, you were finally able to return his fast serves, but now Silas used his speed and your lack of because of your heavy dress and made you run around all over the court trying to return his fast shots. By the third match, you were all out of breath but not out of determination. So, Silas decided that now would be the time to use your body as target practise and he hit the ball over your legs and arms, only stopping when one shot hit you in the head and made you fall on the ground.

“Are you okay?” He asked, barely suppressing the glee in his voice. He held out a hand to help you up, but you swatted it away and got up on your own.

“Finish the game.” You growled and he raised his hands in surrender before returning to his side of the court. For the rest of the third match, he missed all the shots you served and let you win. And he did it so openly, not even being courteous enough to hide his intentions.

Sarah watched you return inside the house, looking all sweaty and angry as you stomped unto your room. Silas trailed in behind, a satisfied grin on his face and Sarah shook her head at him disappointedly. “What did you do, Silas?”

“Nothing. I even let her win the last round, but she’s still angry.” Sarah looked at him admonishingly, making him sigh. “Fine, fine. I’ll go talk to her. The things I do for you, Nana.”

“The things you do for love, Silas.” She corrected him.

Sure. Silas rolled his eyes mentally. I “love” Y/n.

Silas entered the bedroom and saw you had showered and changed into new clothes. “Going somewhere? Perhaps to get some handkerchiefs to wipe all the sweat and tears?” He watched you glare at him through the mirror and he chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, I’m sorry. I’m just teasing. But seriously, where are you going? I could give you a ride.”

“I’m going to an asylum with Colin.” You huff, packing some things in your small purse. Silas nodded. “Good idea to get yourself finally checked-” He dodged the hairbrush you threw at his head, chuckling. “Now now, duchess. It isn’t exactly speaking much for your mental health for you to be chucking things at your dear husband.”

Ignoring his antics, you slipped on your shoes, walking out of the room. He trailed behind you. “Dont be mad. I’m just playing around. Come on, I’ll drop you off at Saint Peters asylum. Its on my way to work.”

“I’m not going to Saint Peters. I’m going to Aveline’s.” You stated, ready to walk off but he grabbed your arm.

“What?” You looked at his shocked face. “What?” You repeated his question. Why did he suddenly look so pale.

“Where are you going?” He asked, his grip tightening when you tried to move. “Which asylum?”

“Aveline’s.” You frowned, grabbing his hand and removing it from your arm. Silas expression paled further.

“Why?”

You shrugged. “Colin wants to do an article on horrible asylum conditions and treatment of patients-”

“Dont.” Silas ordered more than he suggested. “That place- don’t go there.”

“And why not?” You looked at him skeptically. “Colin wants to do a piece on the place-”

“Pick another asylum. I can get you access to any other.” Silas ignored your question, averting his eyes. “You will not go there, and you will not write a piece on that asylum.”

You grabbed his arm to make him look at you. “What are you hiding, Silas?”

Silas stared at you before yanking his arm out of your grasp. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Just- do as I say.” He raised finger, wagging it at your warningly. “I’m telling you- you will not go there again, Y/n. And if I find out that you or Colin or anyone else tried to write about that place, I will shut down that paper and make sure none of them find a job ever.”

You watched Silas leave you there standing dumbfounded.

Did he really just threaten me?

This bitch.

-

Silas watched you leave from the window. He knows you wont listen to him, knows that its inevitable to try to stop you from going to Aveline, so he already sent someone to bribe the staff to not let you on the asylum premises. He’s not worried about who you’re meeting or where you’re going, just as long as its not Aveline.

No. He closed his eyes, painful memories flashing through his mind. You cant know. You cant know.

He sat down on his chair, trying to think of ways to divert your attention from the asylum. You’re as stubborn as a mule, you wont listen to him. So he has to create distractions for you.

Jack the Ripper!

Of course, the murder case!

“Cadburry!” He called his butler. “Arrange me an invite for the Gentleman’s club. Now.”

You were sitting in the boys apartment, Benjamin playing with your hair out of habit, braiding it, unbraiding it, then braiding it again. Colin sat confused. “Why cant we go to the asylum today?”

“I’m not in the mood to see depressing white halls today. Besides, I have an errand to run.” You lean your head further back for Benny.

“And what that might be?” Colin was intrigued.

“Girly errand. You wont understand.” You dismiss him. “But we’ll go to Aveline’s again, thats for sure.” You felt Benny tug your hair at that statement.

“Ow! Benny!” You glare at him. Ben shakes out of his daze, apologising profusely. “Sorry, sorry! I was just lost in my thoughts.”

A coy smile formed on your lips. Lost in thought? Oh, I know exactly what kind of thoughts you’re having, Benny.

Colin stood up with a sigh. “Alright then. I’ll go to office and start writing down a draft.” You nodded as he left you alone with Ben.

Once you heard the door click, you immediately turned around. “Hey, Benny.”

He gave you a gentle smile. “Hey, Y/n.”

“So…” you wiggled your brows at him. “What’s going on with you?”

“Hmm… nothing much really. I got a new customer who wanted a toupee. Apparently word got around that I’m a very skilled barber, no matter how much hair one has or lack of, I can make it work!”

“Yes, thats lovely Benny, but-” you cleared your throat. “I meant, whats going on with you, personally. You look happier, livelier these days.”

He shrugged, offering you another sweet smile. “I guess that’s just the effect you have on people around you.”

Ugh! Stop being so charming, Benny!

“Thanks, Benny. But… I don’t know, I feel like there’s something different about you.” You tried another approach. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I wont ever judge you or anything.”

Though he was smiling, you saw something flicker in his eyes. Doubt? Fear?

“What do you mean, Y/n?” He asked, his voice stable as usual.

Your eyes studied him.

“Did you meet someone new?”

There it is! That flicker in his eyes. His face didn’t let anything away but his eyes, you saw it.

“Yes.” Finally, we’re getting somewhere. “I met you.”

Stupid Benny. Annoying Benny.

Sighing, you realise that maybe he’s just not ready to come out yet. And that I shouldn’t take it personally because I am close with him and he could tell me anything, just like Qasim would. It would be unfair to force Ben to tell you about Lady Scarlett before he’s ready.

“Thanks, Benny.” You said, hiding your disappointment. “I have to go now. Have to go… run that errand.”

“Oh, need me to come?” He got up with you. You shake your head. “No, I’ll manage on my own.”

Why would I tell you when you wont tell me about your love?

-

You were now standing outside the club again. You had initially returned to the back alley to investigate the crime scene again but it had been scrubbed clean and Henry had somehow managed to get a permit to start construction to expand the club further.

He was erasing the crime scene. Henry was trying to hide something.

Speak of the devil, you saw Henry exit the club and get in his carriage. Once you were sure he’d left, you made your way towards the club entrance, still having the invite from last time, only for the guards to stop you.

“I’m sorry but Mr Blackwood has forbidden you from entering the club, Miss Y/n.” One guard said, holding a hand up to halt you.

“Mrs Fitzgerald.” You corrected him, hoping to use the name to get by. “I am the duchess of Westminster!”

“Forgives us, Miss Y/n, but Mr Blackwood specifically instructed us to not let you in and he also instructed us not to address you by anything but Miss Y/n or- um…” The other guard trailed off, making you narrow your eyes at him.

“Or?” You sneered at him to continue.

“Or… future-Mrs Blackwood.” He mumbled but you heard him loud and clear.

I’m going to kill him.

“Listen here and listen clear!” Your voice took a threatening tone, though you’re sure it would look comical to an outsider seeing a woman of your stature trying to intimidate men who were towering over you with their buff physiques.

“I am going to only be addressed as MRS FITZGERALD and you will let me in this club right now or I will have my husband, the duke of Westminster, shut this place down before your twat boss would dare to associate his name with me again!” You yelled with your nostrils flared. “Now, you will march in and inform Lady Scarlett that I’m here to see her. And if she says no, tell her I know about the rings!”

The guards shared a look, probably trying to communicate telepathically whether to let you in or not.

Fortunately for you, your huffing and puffing seemed to work and one of them walked in before returning moments later.

“Please wait for a short while Lady Scarlett entertains some guests.”

After about 20 long minutes, during which you were sure Henry would turn up and have you carried off the premises, the guards finally lead you inside.

“This way, future Mrs Blackwood.” You shot him a glare but didn’t say anything since you were inside the club anyways. They lead you up the stairs towards the room that you had seen Ben go into the last time you were here.

The door opened and you saw a large bed on one side, silk sheets and plush cushions adorning it, and a huge vanity in the other corner, full of makeup and expensive jewels, all arranged in an orderly manner. Then there was a table next to the vanity on which sat a variety of beautiful red haired wigs.

“They’re made from real hair.” A voice said from behind you. You turned to see Lady Scarlett, wearing a maroon robe and a black mask covering her identity. Her trademark red hair, still styled as beautifully as the first time you saw it and that bright red lipstick on her lips. “Benjamin was sweet enough to get them for me.”

She walked past you and sat down on a couch next to the window that opened to the balcony outside, and then she lit up a cigarette, holding it in a vintage cigarette holder.

Not that I would ever condone a nasty habit such as smoking, but she looked absolutely badass in that moment.

“What do you want, Mrs Blackwood?” Scarlett let out a huge exhale of smoke.

“Fitzgerald. I know about the rings.” You state, watching her take another drag.

“What rings?” She asked, feigning innocence.

“The golden rings.” You narrow your eyes. “I saw it on your hand that night and I saw it on Benjamin’s hand as well. I know whats going on, and I’m here to talk about that.” Taking a deep breath, you blurted out your suspicions.

“I know you and Benjamin are in a relationship.”

She looked up at you expectedly, not at all alarmed at being caught. Then again, why would she be caught off guard? Considering the line of business she’s in, she probably has practiced her poker face.

“Is that so, Mrs Blackwood?” Scarlett’s lip’s curled up. “So what?”

So what?

“Look, I mean no harm, but I- I care about Benjamin a lot. He’s like family to me, and I know its not my place but I am very protective of him and I just… I’m just here to make sure that this is not some sort of game for you. I don’t want you playing with his feelings, so if you’re not serious about him then I suggest you end things with him now before it gets too messy.”

Scarlett looked at you before chuckling. “As you wish, Mrs Blackwood.” He stood up with a click of his tongue. “Now, is that all or do you have any more shocking news to pass on to me, Mrs Blackwood? I suggest you do it now because you wont be stepping a foot in this club again.”

“Its Mrs Fitzgerald. And I don’t plan on returning to this depraved scum either.”

“Depraved scum, huh?” Scarlett tilted her head slightly in a mocking manner. “Since you insist on calling yourself Mrs Fitzgerald so proudly, let me show you something as well.” He opened the door and lead you towards the top of the stairwell, from where you could see everyone and everything down below on the dance floor.

She nodded her head to the far right corner and your heart dropped for a second. Is that-

“Mr Fitzgerald seems to be enjoying himself. Though not all that much.” Scarlett said as your eyes remained focused on Silas who was sitting on a chair, looking uninterested by the different women who surrounded him. “Maybe he likes boys. I’ll send some his way-” You rushed out of the club, not able to hear another word or see Silas for another moment longer.

-

Its been a couple of days since you went to the club. Of course, when you arrived home and waited for Silas to return, who upon your questioning about his whereabouts claimed he was meeting a businessman.

He lied.

You tried to distract yourself by taking more ballet lessons from Sarah, but still your attention lingered on him.

Why was he there?

You then tried to divert your mind towards work, and then here you are, sitting on your desk with a blank paper, ready to be filled with words.

Why was he there?

Dropping your pen because you knew you weren’t going to be able to get anything done until you processed your feelings about this.

What feelings? Certainly not jealousy because I am far more mature than this. Its just-

I thought he had standards. Taste. Sure I might not be fine wine, but I’m certainly better than those skank-

Nope. I am a woman. I will not be bringing other women down because of a man.

But Silas… how dare he? Yes, how dare he?! I am not jealous, I am insulted! How dare he act like he’s a polished aristocrat and I’m just ditzy, poorer than a church mouse, a NOBODY, when he goes around prancing his repute and himself in the utter gutters of London?

Maybe he’s just hypersexual. Yes, he’s a depraved, disgusting individual and I married him. Great. So the first man I married, had a NIKKAH with, turned out to be lying, cheating, piece of-

Why did he lie?

Its not like he expects me to sleep with him. If he did, why would he still make me sleep on the floor?

Baldwin would’ve never made me sleep on the floor, always covered me with his cloak because he knew how much the cold bothered me.

And he’s always so rude to me! He beat me at tennis, quite literally!

Salauddin always lost to me in chess. And he let me rub my wins in his face too!

Not to mention, how uncaring he is to my feelings!

Ibrahim always put my happiness above everything. He chose to wait for me, until I was safe- felt safe.

And of all of them, I ended up marrying Silas.

How dare he?

Pushing yourself back into your desk, you began writing down furiously. Fuck Silas, fuck Henry, and fuck Lady Scarlett! I WILL go back to Aveline Asylum, I WILL expose the the Ripper and- if I have time, maybe find Benny a better significant other!

“Woah there- what are you writing?” Colin came up behind you, frowning at the title he read.

“The Ripper strikes again! Murder outside the exclusive club for the wealthy freaks!” Colin looked at you. “Have you gone bonkers?”

“Yes.” You snapped. “You cant talk me out of it, so why don’t you go and get us access into Aveline asylum again. Discreetly, this time.”

By the time everyone was going home, you had finished your article and dropped it on the editor’s desk just as he was about to leave.

“Read this. Trust me, its worth it.” You look over your shoulder. “And I have a witness ready to go public- Mrs Fitzgerald.” Of course, the editor wouldn’t ever figure out that you are Mrs Fitzgerald, not Mr Holmes.

-

However, you were a little surprised to see that he hadn’t published your article in the paper the next morning. Storming to work, you quickly made your way towards the editor’s office, barging in without knocking.

“Hello there, love.” He smiled cheekily. Instead of your editor, Henry Blackwood sat in his chair, his legs propped up on the desk. “I was waiting for you.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“What? You can barge into my business, but I can’t swing by yours?” He asked, feigning hurt.

“No. Now leave.”

“Well then its a good thing that this is also my business now.” Henry grinned, removing his feet from the desk and replacing them with his arms, resting his head in his hand as he stared at your fuming self.

“What?”

“Oh love, you’re looking at your new boss. I just bought the paper this morning.” He winked, standing up and making his way to you. “See, I told you not to come by the club again, I told you to drop the Ripper case, and you didn’t listen either time. So, I’ve come here to tame you. Personally. Seems like you need my undivided attention, kitten-”

“I did drop the Ripper case. I didn’t give my statement to the police!” You exclaimed.

He tutted, wagging his finger at you. “No, but you did write an article. You’re lucky I was here before it got published.”

You frowned. “How- how did you know about the article? I wrote it yesterday, I gave it to the editor at the last moment-”

“I have eyes everywhere, Y/n.” He smirked, leaning down to whisper. “Especially on you, naughty kitten.”

Henry chuckled as he looked at your flushed face, mistaking your anger for bashfulness. He walked out of the door but not before passing another comment to tick you off.

“Nice moustache. Or shall I say… whiskers, kitten?”

-

For the next 3 days, you didn’t leave the house. You didn’t even leave your room. It seemed like all your previous pettiness-driven motivation had run out and dropped you into the well of depression. And here you wallowed in your sadness, taking Silas’s bed even when he was away and looking like a pitiful lump of sadness under the covers.

“What is wrong with you?” Silas asked, exasperated as he sat down on the bed to tie his shoes. “How long will this go on? You have missed your ballet classes and you are worrying grandmother.”

“I’m just sleepy, okay?” You mumbled from under the sheets. “Its not like sleeping on the cold, hard floor is helping me.”

“And it seems like sleeping in my bed hasn’t helped either.” He raised a brow. “Its been 3 days already. This has gone long enough. Now you can either tell me what is wrong or I will have Cadbury drag you out and hose you down in the gardens.”

You shoved the covers down to glare at him. Asshole. You don’t doubt that he would have his butler hose you down.

“I miss… I miss my brother.” You mumbled as you averted your eyes. “Qasim would fix everything for me. He always had a solution, always. And I- I need him right now. To guide me, to handle things for me.”

“So… why don’t you ask for his help?” Silas asked, fixing his tie.

You stared at his back before looking down at your lap. “We’re not on speaking terms… I’m mad at him.”

Silas rolled his eyes. “Well he’s your family, isn’t he? I’m sure you can still talk to him.”

“Cant.” You muttered gloomily, making Silas’s annoyance trigger off.

“And why the bloody hell not?” He turned to glare at you. “You cant get out of my bed! You cant attend work! You cant take your classes! You cant tell me what’s bothering you! And you cant talk to your own brother! Why!? Why?! WHY?!”

You flinched at his harsh town before tears filled your eyes.

“Because… he’s dead.”

Your statement rung in Silas’s ears like a daunting bell. Dead. Dead. Dead.

God, did he feel like shit now.

You threw the covers off you, getting out of bed as you fixed his sheets.

“Sorry for hogging your bed.” You sniffled, using your sleeve to wipe your tears as you walked past him, only for Silas to catch your wrist. With a gentle tug, he had you sitting back down on the bed.

“I’m sorry.” He said, sincerely. “I was just… frustrated due to things at work. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“Its fine, whatever. You’re right, I’ll go to work and classes-” He tightened his grip on your wrist when you tried to leave.

“No.” He tilted your chin towards him. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong. I may not be your brother, but I am your husband.”

You stared at him conflicted. Did he really mean it?

He answered your silent question with a gentle squeeze of your hand. “I will fix your problems, Y/n.” He offered a smile. “Your duke is at your service.”

-

After you told Silas your work situation with Henry and how he’s stopping you from writing anything about Jack the Ripper, how you cant get anything done with his shadow looming over you and monitoring everything you do, Silas explained that solution to it was all simple.

“I will buy the paper from Henry.” He stated nonchalantly, as if he was talking about buying eggs not a newspaper company.

“I dont think he will give you the company. He wont put it up for sale-”

“Everything is for sale, Y/n. You just need to find the right price.” He stood up, assuring you he will buy the company. “I’ll get the company, if you promise to put on a great show. You focus on the ballet classes. After all, the show is only a week from now.”

The following seven days were filled with you doing ballet for hours and hours, all with one motivation.

Not to let Silas down.

Because if I let him down, if I embarrass him, then he wont get the paper from Henry. And I wont be able to find Jack the Ripper or help Colin with the asylum! And Silas will lose trust in me and wont let me have my space at the Westminster palace or wherever so that I can work on my time machine-

Time machine! You face palmed. I’ve been so busy with the murders and shitty men that I forgot to build my machine! My way home!

No, after the show, I’m- I’m demanding- I’m moving out. I don’t care if I get the paper or not, I need to build my machine.

“Oh Y/n, what are you doing in the storage- honey, are you alright? You look like you’re about to pass out! Cadbury! Hurry and open the windows!” Sarah guided you out of the dusty store to sit down, fanning you with her hands. “Oh dear, do you hate confined spaces like Silas too?”

You took deep breaths as fresh air flooded in through the windows, furrowing your brows. “What?”

“Nothing dear, I just thought you felt suffocated in closed spaces, like Silas!” She explained. “He cant stay in a room with closed windows for too long, you know.”

Now that she mentions it, she’s right. You don’t remember Silas being in a room without at least a window open, even as winter rolled around. Hell, he still opens the balcony windows in the bedroom as soon as he wakes up, but you thought that was because he hated your guts and wanted to give you an early wake up call by letting the cold air slap your face and rattle your bones.

“Why does he hate confined spaces?” You ask, letting her loosen your corset.

Sarah looked a little hesitant to tell you, but then relented when you asked her again. “He never told me the reason, but I figured it was the night when his mother passed away. Silas… he was just a young boy, he was hiding in his closet. He liked to scare his mother when she came to check on him, and so he often hid in the closet to give her a fright. He saw his mother get murdered while he was in the closet.” She looked down sadly. “Unfortunately, the killer’s identity was hidden by the dark night. Silas wasn’t able to identify who killed his mother, and I suppose he’s blamed himself a little for that incident.”

Damn. Thats… dark. And sad.

Maybe I can excuse Silas for being rude to me at times. Maybe. Just a tad.

The night of the ballet show rolled around quicker than you’d expected. And despite all the hours of practice and Sarah’s countless assurances that you’d be amazing, you knew the reality.

Your performance was barely passable.

From a young age, you were able to critique yourself very well. As Qasim said- “Only you know yourself the best!” And you knew right now, as you stood backstage, peeking through the curtains at the audience and spotting the queen and her family, you were utterly, truly set up for failure.

NO ONE CAN LEARN BALLET IN 2 MONTHS! AT LEAST NOT ENOUGH TO IMPRESS THE QUEEN!

Your stomach churned, you felt bile rise up your throat, your legs wobbled as you backed away from the curtain, stumbling away, right into Silas’s arms.

“Silas- Silas, I cant do this! I can’t! I can’t!” You cried out and Silas tightened his grip on your arms.

“Okay.”

Okay?

“What?”

“Okay. You cant do it.” He squeezes your shoulders. “I guess I’ll just tell everyone to go home. I’ll apologise to the queen and make up an excuse as to why she wont be seeing a performance by my wife tonight. But hey, she’s family. She’ll understand, right?”

You stared at him in confusion. Silas ran a hand through his fingers. “As for all the journalist who came here to write about you, and all the influential people I’ve invited over because this was your formal introduction into high society, I guess I’ll just have to make something up. But you-“ he gave you a warm smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “-you don’t worry your pretty little head over this. Its okay, I… well, if I’m being honest, I never really expected you to perform.”

“What?”

He shrugged. “I knew you’d back out at the last second. Oh well, what can we do. Now-” he rubbed his chin in thought. “Should I tell the guests that you’ve broken your leg? Or perhaps you cant perform because you’re with child? If we go with the first excuse, people may call you a ditz, maybe unprofessional. And they might come to check on you. But if we go with the second excuse, people will talk about- well, it has been only a month into our marriage-”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Is he… did he set you up?

“You expected me to not perform?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No, Y/n. I expected you to fail to deliver what I require of you. I expected you to perform in front of an audience, and that was all I asked. I didn’t ask you to become a prima donna, I just wanted you to be good enough. Which you are in my opinion. But your doubt in yourself right now is only because you clearly haven’t spent enough time practising because you were too busy running around town, going to clubs and asylums and chasing after a murderer when all of your attention should’ve been on becoming a competent wife!” Silas fumed, tightening his grip on your shoulders. “I asked you again and again to focus on the ballet lessons, and you ignored my advice repeatedly and for what? Because you wanted to prove yourself? Because you wanted to play detective and solve murders? When you cant even do a simple job as putting on a show? And I knew- I knew you would abandon me like this, so you know what, Y/n? While I keep my end of the bargain, while I invited Henry tonight to talk him into selling the paper to me, you continue to let me down. So go on stage or don’t, I really don’t give a shit now. I can’t take your word ever again.”

Silas stormed off, leaving you shell shocked backstage. You sat down on the steps, trying to control your breathing. How could he- how can he say all that to you?

Does he not understand the pressure you’re under? Does he not understand how hard all of this is for you?

You really thought that after you told him about Qasim, after he assured he that he would help you out, that he would fix your problems-

I thought he understood. I thought he had my back.

You let out a shaky exhale, rubbing your chest to ease your ache. Why is it so hard to breathe all of a second?

Tonight, you didn’t invite Colin or Benny or any of the boys, and it only hit you now how truly lonely you were. There’s no Colin. No Benny. No friends. No family. No Qasim. No… Silas.

“Ma’am? Ma’am, are you alright?” Cadbury looked alarmed as he spotted you looking shell shocked, struggling to breathe.

“I… I cant-” You couldn’t speak, and the butler quickly took your nervous, trembling form in and sprung into action.

“Here, duchess- ma’am, drink this.” He brought you a cup of tea. “It’ll calm the nerves, ma’am. Drink it.”

You let the bitter, warm liquid slide down your throat without a second thought.

“You’ll be alright now, ma’am. You’ll be all… right.” The butler assured you kindly, helping you stand up. In just a matter of seconds, your anxiety had melted away and was replaced with… unbridled confidence.

“What did I just drink?” The words slipped out as you felt your heart beat faster. Your eyes snapped towards Cadbury. “What did you give me?” The words came out quickly.

“Nothing special. Its just tea to calm you.” He said, ushering you up the steps towards the stage curtains. “Are you ready now, ma’am?”

Your eyes zeroed in on the white particles on his collar. Like powder.

“Is that snow?” If you weren’t so hyper focused on his collar, it would concern you how fast you were talking. “Is it snowing outside already?”

Cadbury looked down on his collar and suppressed a smile. “Yes, duchess. You could say that. Now- please return your attention to your performance. We are all rooting for you.”

“Not Silas.” You snapped again, your eyes looking at the dark curtains as you take your position. “Not that twat.”

Cadbury’s brows shot up in shock. “Ma’am-”

“I’ll show that twat.” And then the curtains opened.

-

Silas sat down in his seat with a satisfied sigh. Everything is going according to plan. You’re nervous and he just chewed you out so the stage will now be empty because you’ve ran off to cry a river, the royal family will once again be embarrassed as they happily welcomed Silas and his Muslim wife into the family (by making them the duke and duchess) and with all the journalists he invited, the news will now spread like wildfire that Silas rejected a princess, Queen Victoria’s daughter to marry an embarrasment.

The princess was one upped by a fool. A commoner. A failed ballerina.

Did Silas feel bad for you? Just a little, because he didnt like the way you looked at him, hoping for support, maybe even motivation, only for him to break your heart. Broken hearts can be mended, but broken reputations? Nope.

Besides, he’s sure that when he buys the company from Henry and give it to you, you’ll forget all about it! Everything will work out just as he’d planned-

What the hell?

The curtain opened and instead of being met with an empty stage like he’d planned, there you stood in your white tutu skirt, face completely devoid of any expression.

What are you doing?

The pianist began playing a tune he didn’t recognise. Sarah did tell him that of the three songs you had chosen, there was one she hadn’t heard ever before. You’d worked with the pianist to get the tune right, and at that time, he was impressed at how much work you were putting into this.

As the music played, you began dancing. From what his grandmother had told him, he was expecting soft, gentle, shy dance.

And yet you were doing anything but that. Your movements were strong, powerful, determined. You were nothing like the woman whose hope he’d crushed just moments ago. You were all alone on that big stage, but you practically leaped from one side of the stage to the other, your legs faster than lightening.

By no means did you look like a mess, or that you didn’t know what your were doing. Your eyes were wide open, as if hyper aware of your surroundings and your audience. From beside him, Silas could hear his grandmother whispering the choreography.

“En pointe. En pointe. En pointe.” You were now dancing on the tip of your toes, and Silas could only imagine how painful, if not destructive this could be to your feet.

“Tendu. Chaine turn. Chaine turn. Pique manege.” Now, you were moving across the stage while making turns.

And finally, the big ending. “Pirouette. Pirouette. Keep spotting, Y/n. Pirouette.” Silas knew about the pirouettes. He watched you spin around your own axis, in a fixed position on a ground, your body moving first, your head later, your eyes focused on a spot in the dark so that you don’t lose your balance. You turned- 1,2,3, he lost count because you were turning too fast.

“34- was that 34 turns, Silas?”

Thirty four? Thirty four pirouettes?!

The performance ended with fouetté turns, which according to Sarah were about 28 and you exited the stage dancing en pointe, on the tip of your toes.

The ballet hall erupted in applause and cheers, and Silas stood up with everyone else to give a standing ovation to a now empty stage.

What the hell just happened?

-

Its hot. Its hot. I’m burning up!

As soon as you were off stage, of which you have no memory of your performance, you almost fell to the ground if it weren’t for strong arms catching you. And the moment your eyes caught sight of the broad shoulders, you instantly pushed yourself away, throwing yourself against the wall to support yourself.

“Careful there, love.” Henry grinned, clapping his hands in mocking manner. “That was quite the performance you gave, kitten. I’m very impressed.”

“What are you doing here?” You spat out, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. He tilted his head, amused at the sight of your flushed cheeks. “Silas invited me. He wanted to discuss business. I wonder if the little kitten went to her owner for help because she couldn’t scratch me with her tiny paws?”

“Owner?” You heaved a shaky breath. His smirk widened. “What else would you name it? He bought you to be his wife, because you know and I know that there isn’t and there never will be love between you two. He’s just using you. So drop the charade and come to me-” Henry caught your wrist before you could slap him, and while he may have stopped your physical assault, he wasn’t able to stop your verbal one.

“What would you know about love? You’re here, pursuing a married woman who has insulted you from the very first moment. Those skanks at your disgusting club have more self esteem than you do right now. You’re fucking pathetic and I’d rather eat a cactus and shit it out before I marry an entitled, emasculated prick like you. Fuck off!” You shoved him away and stormed out of there, unaware of just how much Henry wanted to wring your neck (just for a moment) and how a certain someone had overheard this little spat.

And he smiled proudly.

Good job, Y/n. He thought to himself.

-

“Fuck!” You screamed as you burst through the doors and landed out in the gardens, falling to the snowy ground, letting the ice cool your burning temperature.

How the hell am I burning up when its literally snowing?!

You grabbed a fistful of snow and threw it to your face, trying to cool down your body temperature. When that didnt work, you dove face first into the ground, before flipping on your back, letting the snow engulf your body from all sides. Your ballerina costume was thin and sheer as it could be, finally allowing the cold to creep into your skin and slowly into your bones.

Now that the adrenaline rush and whatever the hell was in that tea wore off, your body immediately went into fatigue and became aware of all the aches in your body, especially the pain in your feet. You tried to move, but your muscles didn’t budge. They were tired out, strained beyond their limits.

The cold suddenly became too unbearable and your teeth rattled. You tried to lift your head, tried to yell for help but it was like your mind had suddenly went autopilot and decided to shut down to let your body recover from its fatigue.

“No…” You whispered, as tears slipped out of your eyes. Everyone was inside, the party was loud, no one would even hear you scream for help even if you tried, no one would come to your aid. The realisation that you would freeze to death had you panicking, but alas, your brain refused to cooperate with you.

You heard the sound of footsteps and a glimmer of hope rose in you. Turning your head to the side took the last bit of energy, and your brain put you out of your misery when you saw the daunting shadowy figure that imprinted itself in your mind from the night of the murder.

The cloak, the top hat, a golden ring on his hand and the shiny glint of the knife.

The Ripper is here.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream before you blacked out.

So??? Thoughts??? Also nobody @ me for not putting a "keep reading" button because I had to edit 12k words TWICE on mobile, I have pulled an all nighters for yall. I have to go to clinic in loke 2 hours.

Yall better send comment and send ask.

[propertyofwicked]

WORK EXPENSE - LN

lando x dj!reader SMAU <3

no one can quite work out if they're together - neither can lando. yn? she's just there for the vibes.

masterlist the playlist

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

beatsbyyn has posted!

liked by martingarrix, landonorris and 15,607 others...

beatsbyyn best night - thank you martingarrix and burnerroom for having me! <3

... more comments

burnerroom come back soon!!

⇾ beatsbyyn ur never getting rid of me now ♡

landonorris photo creds left the chat :(

⇾ beatsbyyn cry about it ♡

⇾ landonorris make me???

⇾ beatsbyyn sir this is a wendys?

⇾ landonorris sir? oh so it's like THAT huh?

martingarrix SO SICKKKK same time next week?

⇾ beatsbyyn ive already started planning our next set!!

beatsbyyn has posted

liked by maxfewtrell, landonorris and 21,031 others...

beatsbyyn to my favourite brother, happy birthday frankie ♡ ̆̈ glad u stopped trying to run me over with your kart

... more comments

frankb im your only brother? but thank you ig?

⇾ beatsbyyn be grateful i said anything at all

⇾ frankb what was that? sorry couldn't hear you over the sound of my successful career and happy relationship

⇾ beatsbyyn didnt ask.

l4uren wait was he in formula renault??

⇾ beatsbyyn yes but now hes just a pain in my ass

⇾ ln4ours wait so her and lando have probably known each other for years??

⇾ l4uren he competed with max f in 2016 so maybe?

⇾ ln4ours the djing crossover now makes perfect sense lmao

beatsbyyn has posted

liked by landonorris, martingarrix and 45,217 others...

beatsbyyn personal assistant, professional dj and part time nurse - amsterdam, you were messy - same time next year??

tagged: landonorris and martingarrix

... more comments

landonorris delete this 🙏

⇾ beatsbyyn no 🙏

⇾ mclaren beatsbyyn never delete this

⇾ beatsbyyn anything for you admin ♥︎

lnwag bro what did h- hOW??

⇾ beatsbyyn he's a 24 year old man who can't hold a glass without smashing it

⇾ landonorris which is completely normal, im sure

⇾ beatsbyyn it's not.

⇾ maxfewtrell it's not.

⇾ georgerussell63 it's not.

-> beatsbyyn yo georgerussell63??? tell carmen i miss her

lilymhe can you be my nurse?

-> beatsbyyn i heard kissing is the best medicine

-> lilymhe cant hurt to try

-> alex_albon hello?

-> beatsbyyn lilymhe never let your boyfriend get in the way of finding your future wife

martingarrix the door was unlocked? why did you climb through the window?

-> beatsbyyn skill issue 😎

beatsbyyn has posted

liked by landonorris, mclaren and 22,745 others...

beatsbyyn he said "i can dj, but can you drive" - im expecting a call from zak brown any moment now.

tagged landonorris

... more comments

landonorris never getting in a car with you ever again.

⇾ beatsbyyn i did great wdym??

⇾ landonorris you spun off the track and said "oopsies" ?!?!?!

⇾ ln4ours she's so me fr

mclaren zak said he's sending the paperwork over now

⇾ beatsbyyn good thing i look great in papaya

⇾ landonorris is this how i find out ive been fired?

⇾ mclaren yeah so about that....

⇾ landonorris admin?? say jk rn

lnwag are they...together? im so confused

⇾ alex_albon me too.

⇾ georgerussell63 me too.

⇾ oscarpiastri me too.

⇾ landonorris me too.

⇾ beatsbyyn me too.

maxfewtrell did he not learn from the last time we went karting?

⇾ beatsbyyn in my defence - i was leading and he pushed past me??

⇾ maxverstappen1 so you pushed him back and then he pushed you off the track?

⇾ beatsbyyn it's not fair :(

[fqlling4it]

we can’t be friends (wait for your love) | max verstappen x best friend! reader

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen, kellypiquet, and others

yourusername maxxie won in brazil! so so so proud of my best friend 💗

view all 2,181 comments

user372 okay but compare y/n’s post to kelly’s and you can tell who actually is proud of him

↳ user33 one of them only posts when he wins and the other posts congratulating him no matter the results

maxverstappen ecstatic to have you in the paddock this past weekend! thanks for coming y/n/n

↳ yourusername i’m there whenever you want me to be maxxie!

kellypiquet so so proud of my boy!

↳ yourusername so proud of him too! 💗

user81 kelly staking her claim on max like y/n and max aren’t just friends 😭

↳ user44 you don’t know the lore??? go check user711’s pinned on twitter… rip y/nmax ☹️💔

francisca.cgomez great to see you around this weekend! missed you tons bbygirl 💗

↳ yourusername missed you tons kiks, so so grateful to have seen you this weekend 😘

user4 missed the ynmax content </3

↳ user71 when we went YEARS without ynmax content because kelly told y/n she didn’t like her relationship with max :(

twitter user771 pinned tweet!

kellypiquet

liked by maxverstappen, yourusername, and others

kellypiquet still riding the high ☄️

view all 2,373 comments

yourusername so so proud of him! can’t believe it!

↳ kellypiquet p’s asking when auntie y/n can come over

↳ yourusername give me a date and a time and i’ll babysit for you!

user832 only posting when he wins is crazy 😭

user18 diabolical move telling y/n (the ultimate mom friend) that her daughter wants to see her auntie y/n

↳ user33 plotting how to get rid of y/n using P

maxverstappen ❤️

messages between Kelly and y/n

kellypiquet and maxverstappen

liked by landonorris, carlossainz, and others

kellypiquet and maxverstappen baby verstappen coming may 2025!

view all 8,382 comments

user33 no y/n in the likes ???

↳ user72 ynmax drought again????

↳ user21 definitely something to do with max and kelly having a baby together ☹️💔

carlossainz congratulations to the two of you!

↳ maxverstappen thank you carlos!

landonorris that was.. unexpected. godfather lando 2025!

↳ maxverstappen and who said anything about you being godfather?

user91 the way y/n would’ve been the mother of max’s kid if they both stopped being delusional 💔

↳ user61 leave them alone my god, do you y/n fans ever stop being weird

↳ user91 nah this has gotta be kelly’s burner or something 😭

lewishamilton congrats man! happy for you!

↳ maxverstappen thank you! means a lot coming from you

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and others

yourusername while i am not officially a musician, i have dabbled in music before… here’s my first ever single, we can’t be friends, out friday! i hope you love it just as much as i do.. and a special thank you to charles_leclerc and lewishamilton for helping produce and cowrite this song!

view all 7,382 comments

lewishamilton thank you for letting me help produce this song! so so proud of you and how far you’ve come from the little girl in the paddock chasing around her papa and his drivers to now being an official marketing and pr agent

↳ yourusername thanks lew! i appreciate you so so much! truly such a blessing for you to help me out with this!

user832 okay but album when?

↳ user1 CHILL she just released a single

user44 and when we get an album about what truly went down 2016-2020 then what

↳ user33 hey so actually let’s not because i’ll go insane

charles_leclerc thank you for letting me compose some of the piano parts! it was a blessing to be able to work with you

↳ yourusername no, thank you for helping me get the ideas out of my head! so honored to work with you on this piece

messages between max and y/n

this was definitely not what was supposed to come out first, but i figured posting this which was sitting in my drafts was better than trying to write and add photos to a new smau! so hurt my feelings, which is max x ex! reader, will be out sometime by the end of the week (or beginning of next week at the latest)! this is very short, but i do really like this one and wanted to post it to garner feedback on what everyone seems to like seeing from me! likes and reblogs are appreciated.. (also i am working on a taglist and masterlist, so comment down below if you’re interested in being added to a taglist!)

[jenoonej423]

pavlov and ponytails

NOT MY WORK all rights to hyucksie, she deactivated years ago but I managed to get a hold of my own personal copy of her work and noticed many users were looking for one so here it is <3

synopsis: it was the perfect combination: you (the girlfriend), jeno (the boyfriend), and a sexual twist on psychological conditioning. after some thorough but fun experimentation, you finally see the results you were hoping for: you can now get your boyfriend hard just by tying your hair up. 

“Pavlov and Ponytails” is copyright 2020 hyucksie, all rights reserved.

pairing: jeno x fem!reader ft. bff!haechan genre: smut, fluff, crack, established relationship, slice of life, college!au, rich kid!jeno

word count: 22k words lmfao

warnings: language, explicit detailed sex honestly the amount of smut in this i’m almost ashamed, some cringe fluff | smut specifications under the cut

smut warnings: mostly soft dom!jeno but also some hard dom!jeno, sex in various locations, lots of blowjobs (obviously) and generous use of spit (practical! because water is never a substitute for lube, my friends), dirty talk, heavy petting, degradation, fingering, edging, handjob, pussyjob, cumming in panties, blowjobs, spanking, dick slapping, deepthroating, hair pulling, face fucking, facials, cum feeding/eating, just lots and lots of cumplay you’ve been warned, overstimulation, unprotected sex, manhandling, exhibitionism, punishment sex, edging, biting, marking, thigh fucking, unprotected sex, facials, cumplay, creampie, vibrator, just the slightest bit of a daddy kink as in just one instance, jeno. yes jeno is a warning.

The day you moved in with Jeno, he refused to let you lift any of the heavy boxes. 

“But they’re my stuff,” you complained, “is this a fragile masculinity thing?” 

He had one arm reaching into the trunk when he looked back, met with the sight of your crossed arms and accusing frown. He spun round to face you, a glass bowl of chocolate coins in hand. It was the only thing left outside of the boxes, something you had stolen taken as remembrance from Donghyuck, your best friend and previous roommate in uni.

“This,” he stressed, pulling your arm and securing the bowl in your embrace, “is the only fragile thing around here.” He spun back to arrange the boxes left inside. “Think of it this way: you have a boyfriend who’s extremely grateful that you agreed to start living with him and his way of saying ‘thanks’ is by saving you the hassle and taking care of the heavy things.” He held two boxes stacked atop each other before setting them on the cart, facing you again. “Besides, you should know by now that I respect you too much to demean you like that,” he continued with a hand on his hip, head tilted to the side as he leaned closer, a skewed smile ghosting his lips. “Unless we’re in bed and you’re in that mood.” 

He was slowly closing the gap between you, and instinctively you stepped backwards before your ego caught up and rooted you in place. “Chicken shit,” you whispered. “You’re saying you’d only give it to me in bed?” He was so close that your only clue of his smirk growing into a wicked grin was the way his eyes shrunk into crescents.

And you’re saying you just got here but you already want me on every surface?” 

You scoffed despite the surprise painted on your face. “I didn’t say that!”

“Of course you didn’t,” he chuckled, “but I did and I think it’s a great idea.” His voice dived deep. “Just to prove how grateful I am to you.” His hands rested low on your waist. “And that my masculinity,” he whispered to your ear, “is anything but fragile.” 

There was no way you could have concealed the sharp shiver that cut through you. Your breath was stolen, muscles taut and frozen, and lips slightly parted when Jeno parted from you, regarding you with an amused smile. You watched as he gripped the handles of the cart, your gaze dripping onto the veins that ran down his arms… 

“Baby?” An absentminded huh? was all you managed. “Be a gentleman and open the door for me?” he said, clearly entertained by his own joke. 

You rolled your eyes but did his bidding nonetheless. You swung the door open and stretched an arm out in an exaggerated gesture of welcome, other arm still hugging the bowl of chocolate. “Ladies first!” you shouted, making him laugh loud and pinch your ear between his fingers before rolling the cart in with you in tow.

You were sprawled on the couch as Jeno went out for the last few boxes. You had to admit, you did end up pleased with his volunteer spirit. It allowed you to relax on your back, a hand reaching behind to the bowl you left on the end table, picking up yet another one of the circular treats. By now, there was a growing pile of the crumpled foil bits on your tummy as your eyes wandered, admiring the place.

It didn’t look like the man cave you expected it to be. Despite the sleekness of the minimal interior, the place seemed to radiate warmth from its walls. Like it was receiving you with a hug, happy that you were certainly, finally, here. Jeno told you his parents had signed it off to his name the day he turned legal, but he opted for the on-campus dormitories in university to avoid the 45-minute drive. Obviously, his family was well-off. It was good ammo for the rich-sheltered-kid trope you teased him with, but it was hardly even the surface to his many layers you’ve grown to love. On your part, you made sure that he knew you were in it for him and nothing else. That same conviction was what delayed you from moving in with him for so long, until today.

The timing was just right: you were having your third anniversary soon, your last year of uni was approaching faster than you’d like, and you were eventually gonna go your separate ways from Donghyuck (your best friend slash roommate) anyways, as he was spending the next semester at a specialized research center off-campus. It just made sense when Jeno whined for the nth time about the convenience of living together that you shrugged and said “Sure” so nonchalantly that he almost missed it. 

Dumb silence was followed by his repetitive “Seriously?” and then hours of clinging to your side like an overgrown koala, ditching your date in favor of crowding in your single bed, fantasizing about how you’ll spend the last summer break and the last year of college under the same roof.

You smiled at the memory, letting an arm dangle off the sofa as you traced lines with your finger on the spotless wooden floor beneath you. “What about mornings?” You asked back then. “You’ll have to be up early if you get any morning classes.” It was a small but genuine concern. Your boyfriend loved his sleep and set alarms for half an hour before class when he lived on-campus. 

He looked at you as if you were crazy and he’d been rising before dawn all his life, clutching your chin in his hand and rocking your face side to side. “I don’t think waking up is a problem if I’m waking up to you. Getting us out of bed is a wholly different question, though…”

Your heart was seizing just as Jeno returned, unloading the boxes. You were feeling playful, deep in that teasing mood that arose whenever you were brimming with attachment. “Babe, quick!” Without waiting for him to face your way, you catapulted the piece of chocolate from your hand into the air, going full speed in his direction. Jeno was fast, but only fast enough to catch the trinket in his hand after it bounced off his forehead. He stared at it for some moments, puzzled by the attack.

Oops.” Jeno lifted his gaze to find your coy smile. “Sorry, thank you, I love you!” You chimed, all in one breath. 

A warm sensation bloomed in his chest at the sight of you giggling so comfortably, looking so ‘at home’ at his home. No, not just his. It was yours. ‘Your home too,’ he thought, a match lighting up in his heart. ‘You’re home, too’ and suddenly his body was ablaze with affection for you.

The urge to kiss you breathless was itching at his bones but he put a hand back on the cart, wanting everything out of the way before he got his way with you. “One sec,” he turned on his heels, rushing to the door. 

“One!” You shouted after him. 

“Ten seconds!” He corrected, spurring more giggles to pour out of you. 

You counted in your head while you reached for another chocolate. By three, you’ve unwrapped the foil. Five, Jeno was running back in. Six, the thin piece dangled between your teeth.

And then you lost count, because suddenly your boyfriend was on top of you, his knee spreading your thighs apart as he slotted his lower body between you and pulled you in by the hips. His hand dipped to the back of your neck, lifting your face closer to his. You held your breath from the anticipation, and you nearly lost it when the tip of his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. 

He sank down, closing the distance between your faces. You expected the familiar brush of soft lips against yours as you shut your eyes, but you moaned at the cold graze of his teeth instead. Your eyes fluttered open, and you huffed when you realized he wound you up just to snatch the chocolate from your lips. He looked so delighted with himself it was almost too hard for you to maintain a scowl. 

“What?” He challenged between chews. 

“Asshole,” you muttered, “thought you were gonna kiss me.” You watched as he swallowed, eyes so focused on the bob of his Adam’s apple that you didn’t notice his hand on your neck lifting you up again, his smirk unwavering. 

“I am now.” 

Not a second later, his lips collided with yours. His hand cupped your jaw, strained breath escaping you when his thumb nudged at your chin and forced your lips to part against his, tipping you further into him like he was starved and desperate to taste all of you. You propped yourself higher on one elbow, chasing him with the same eagerness as your mouths moved in sync. His tongue delved past your lips and you moaned at the taste of chocolate that lingered on him. He was kissing you like an apology, like he was feeding the stolen sweetness back into you.

He broke away, giving you a chance to catch your breath. His hand dragged to the small of your back and pulled you towards him, giving you two gentle pecks on the lips once he had you upright. His palms settled on your ass, kneading at the clothed skin before lifting you up with him, adjusting to a more comfortable position with him sitting and you straddling his hips.

Despite you being on top, it was clear that you were under his control. This time, he wanted you slow. He drew you into him, your arms resting atop his shoulders as he ghosted another peck on your mouth, scarcely breaking away from you before swiping his tongue across your still-closed lips. You opened up to him instinctively, wanting to feel his mouth back on yours, to have him steal your breath, give it back, and take it from you again and again until your lungs knew nothing but him, him, him.

He indulged your silent wishes, molding your lips together and matching the slow pace of his hands rubbing up and down the sides of your thighs. You could have kissed him like that forever if it weren’t for the need to breathe, or the slip of soft gasps and whimpers, or the impatient heat between your legs that compelled your body to meld even closer to his, not knowing when you began to rock back and forth on his growing need, only knowing that you had to have more.

He groaned into the kiss, slipping both his hands into your back pockets and halting your lewd motions. You whined, attempting to resume your grinding, but his hand squeezing hard on your plump flesh called the last shot, the fleeting but sharp pain ripping a mewl from you and drawing you still.

“I’m starting to think you’re trying to get fucked on this couch.” You shuddered from his words and his voice, deep and swimming in the same lust you were drowning in. 

“Yeah? That would be a smart guess.”

“So you do want me on every available surface.” He smiled, planting a kiss to the corner of your lip. Despite wanting to tease you and make you wait, it somehow felt wrong for his lips to be away from your skin for too long. 

“Don’t be too sure…” you paused, kissing up his neck, “…I haven’t even seen the rooms yet.” He grunted when you sucked on the bolt of his jaw, eyes closing and head tilting back as he let you work your magic on him. 

“Fuck, baby. I promise I’ll show you around.” His breath hitched. “Promise I’ll fuck you in each one.” Hearing that sent heat rushing to your core, your head whirring over his lust-driven vows to give you exactly what you wanted and more. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? On this couch, the showers, the guest room, the kitchen…” Your toes curled in when he started to move you in his grip, the hands that kept you still now grinding you on him. “Even against the windows, right baby?” He whispered in your ear, tickling you with his breath before nibbling gently on the lobe. You keen from the sensation, picking up the pace of your hips until he held you firmly in place again, cutting off the momentum with his final words, “But right now, bedroom.”

You looked at him with scrunched eyebrows, patience already worn thin. “But I want you here,” you whined. “Want you now.” 

He only smiled at your eagerness, your desperation. “Not here baby.” 

“Why not?”

“Because,” he began, his hand landing on top of yours that was trying to lift his shirt off, “I want your first proper fucking here to be in our bed.” 

You breathed out a sound of appreciation despite how frustrated you felt beneath your clothes. “Jen,” your head rested on his shoulder as you drawled your words, “I love that you’re so sweet, but you don’t have to be sweet with me right now.” You lifted your gaze back to his eyes. “And this,” you detached your body from his, watching his confusion grow as you stood before him, “doesn’t have to be a proper fucking.”

He could only gape at you as you shoved your shorts off, not a hint of grace in your hurried, desperate motions. His eyes trained steady at the dark patch on your underwear, waiting as you neared and caged him between your knees again. You took his hand in yours, guiding his fingers to the pool of moisture in the fabric, making him groan at the feeling. “Shit, baby. You’re soaked through.”

“Mmm,” your delighted sounds began to pour out of you as you rutted onto his stretched fingers, the tips bumping enticingly on your clothed clit, “Jeno… need you to take care of me. Please.” The need was rising to a crescendo within you, your chest heaving for relief. You guide his hand again, using his fingers to draw the line of your slit through your panties and making a show of trying to sink down on them despite the thin barrier of clothing. “Just need you inside me, please. Any part of you.”

He inhaled through his teeth, moving his hand back to your front to rub at your clothed clit. “God, always too needy to wait.” He didn’t seem eager to wait either as he pushed the fabric to the side, his middle finger immediately running between your drooling folds, dipping just a little into you each time he went past your entrance. 

You must have been making the most unintelligent sounds, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were too preoccupied trying to get your boyfriend to just stick his damned finger where you needed it, but he kept pulling his hand away each time you tried to fuck yourself on him. 

“Wanted to treat you like a princess but you go and act like a slut.” He spat the last word, punctuating his sentence with a stinging slap to your ass, the impact forcing you to sit down, your gasp breaking off into a needy moan as his finger finally breached inside of you. You were too drunk on the feeling to wait for his reaction. You closed your eyes, letting your cries spill freely as you began bouncing on his finger. 

You couldn’t see him, but his grunts were confirmation enough that he enjoyed the sight. “More,” you choked out. “Want more of you.” He didn’t deny you this time, a hand flying to your waist to slow you down as he re-entered you with both his middle and ring finger, giving you a few hard pumps before he curled the digits, grazing at your front walls. “Fuck,” you cried out, your arms flying out to the backrest of the couch to keep your legs from collapsing in. 

“You like that?” His fingers eased into the rhythm of pushing in and out of you, angling his hand just right so he keeps brushing against your sweet spot. 

“Yes! Like it so much, feels so good.” His other hand pulled on your scoop neckline, enough to expose the cups of your strapless bra. He tugged even that down, pulling until your bra was stuck mid-torso, your breasts spilled out, and the collar of your shirt ruined. He circled his tongue around your nipple and blew cold air on it, drawing a gasp from you before he took it in his mouth, giving it multiple short but rapid sucks and at times gently grazing it with the front of his teeth, pausing only to give your other nub the same dizzying attack. 

His digits kept pumping into you, going faster and harder while proof of your arousal kept oozing down his fingers. The wetness collected on his palm until he pushed his hand up against you, the heel rubbing on your clit, spreading your slick back onto your lips. “You’re making a mess on my hands, baby.” You couldn’t find any words to say back, littering the air with just your whimpers and the wet sounds of his digits fucking into you. 

You were shaking at the knees, your pitch going higher and the succession of small, gradually tightening clenches of your walls blared at him, all telltale signs that you were getting closer and closer and, “Fuck fuck fuck, please, oh my god, please!” You were already hanging on the precipice when he withdrew his fingers and mouth from your skin, snatching you back to the ground before you could plunge into the depths of white heat.

You sobbed, dropping your head to the crook of his neck, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt in protest. Chocolate and orgasms; it seemed your boyfriend was stealing everything from you today. You felt the small vibrations as he chuckled, trying to soothe your betrayed feelings with soft kisses to your shoulder and a hand rubbing your lower back. “Sorry,” he mumbled, “it’s not a proper fucking, but I still want you to cum on my cock.” 

You were appeased just enough with the promise of more. You lift your hips higher, helping him pull his pants and boxers down to free his erection. You wasted no time as you swiped your palm on his glistening tip, spreading his pre-cum as you glided your fist on his cock. You bowed closer to his cock, and Jeno groaned as he watched you push spit out of your mouth, landing it on his tip and gradually spreading it on his shaft with each pump of your hand. There was a trail of it left hanging from your lips, the clear liquid bridging your mouth to the head of his cock while you looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, hand tight around him, moving up and down in flicking motions.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growled deep, a hand sneaking to the back of your neck and pulling you towards him, re-connecting your lips as the air around you grew thinner and hotter than ever. Your bare pussy was now hovering above his cock as you kept pumping him through the kiss, and it was taking every bit of restraint in you to keep it that way, imagining how easy it would be to just lower your hips and swallow him into your waiting heat.

He must have been thinking the same as you felt him buck into your touch, his tip pressing lightly on your slit, your gasp breaking the kiss. “Thought you wanted to fuck me on the bed first…” you mumbled. He replaced your hand with his, jerking himself off a few times as he pushed the fabric of your ruined panties further out to expose you even more. 

“You thought right.” He slid the head of his cock along your slit, prodding the tip against your hole ever so slightly before running it back to the front, rubbing it on your clit and then going back again. His other hand guided your hips down on him, watching with dark eyes as your folds spread around the girth of his cock, the wetness dribbling on his length inciting a growl from him. “Can you cum from just this, baby?” He began thrusting forward, his cock sandwiched between your pussy lips rubbing you all the right ways, leaving you devoid of intelligent vocabulary. 

“Mmm… ah! Fuck, yes, keep going.” He had an arm braced around you, keeping you upright while you grind on each other, your clit swollen and sensitive from the friction. You were both panting hard, speeding up as you were getting closer to your highs, but the burn in your thighs was getting too much to ignore. “Jen…” you managed to whine as you slowed down. He hummed in response, a hand reaching out to the messy hair on your face and tucking it behind your ear. The delicate gesture was so out of place from the carnal things he was doing to your body, and you keened at the swirl of feeling so loved and so ruined all at once.

You stopped your motions altogether and melted into his embrace. Your eyes were closed, forehead leaned against his as small squeaks slipped past your lips from his every thrust. His chest tightened with endearment, and you didn’t have to say anything as he picked up on your cue, holding you by the hips and ardently bringing pleasure to both of you. “Is my baby tired?” You moaned in his ear, blood rushing to his cock at the feeble sound. “S’okay. I’ll take you there. Make you feel so good.”

Jeno was always good with his promises. He positioned his tip against your clit, his face contorting in pleasure as he rubbed your most sensitive parts together. His hand sneaked to your pussy from behind, plunging his middle and ring finger into you and making you cry out from the added sensation of him pumping into you once again. Your hands were shaking as they reached down to his cock to stroke his shaft, everything a blur of sloppy hands and filthy squelching sounds.

His fingers were relentless, your walls sucking them so deep he was barely pulling them out of you anymore, driving into you harsh and rapid. Your engorged clit was throbbing, each circle of his tip gliding around it sending shockwaves through you. Your jaw hung loose, choked sobs pouring out of you, legs trembling as an intense heat unfurled within you. Jeno knew you were close, your walls lightly spasming around his digits. He kept his pace constant, his mouth kissing on your jaw, ready to catch you from below when you reach your peak.

“Fuckfuckfuck! You’re making me cum!” Your broken sobs drew a groan from him, “Fuck, I’m there, I’m there! Jeno!” Your whole body tenses up, spasming in time with your powerful orgasm. Jeno stops moving against you, the contraction of your walls pushing his fingers in and out of you without his guidance.

He didn’t take his digits out of you even after you’ve calmed down, keeping them buried deep as he started jerking himself with his other hand, occasionally bumping into your still sensitive clit, making you hiss. He looked so hot, so focused with his eyes looking directly into yours, eyebrows scrunched together, breathing ragged. His cock was rock hard, twitching in his hand, the tip an angry red. 

“Cum in my panties,” you rasped, barely thinking when you let the order slip out before adding, “please?” He moaned, voice higher than usual, muttering under his breath, 

“You’re so dirty for me today.” You smiled, knowing this kind of behavior wrecked him a hundred times over inside. You fixed your underwear, spreading the fabric below to cover as much of yourself as possible with his fingers still inside you. You pulled at the top hem, angling it down and showing your eagerness to catch every drop of his cum.

Your other hand reached down to his balls, fondling them gently, urging him to come undone. Your name and a flurry of curses tumbled out of him soon after, strangled noises escaping him as he came. His hips lurched with each shot of his load onto your exposed skin, the warmth dripping down and collecting at the bottom of your panties. You shuddered at the feeling, hitching a breath when he bit on your shoulder. His fingers scissored inside you, and you realized you’ve been clenching around them hard since he started cumming on you.

His teeth were replaced by his soft lips pressing wet kisses on your shoulder. His fingers slipped out of you slowly, your bodies gradually untensing as you basked in the calm after frenzied sex. You pressed a hand gently to his chest, watching its rise and fall grow steadier. 

When he lifted his head, your disheveled appearance brought a smile to his face. He kissed your chin, “I love you.” 

You kissed him back on the forehead, “Love you too.”

You had to break the tender moment, the feeling of your soiled underwear now less sexy and more uncomfortable against your skin. You tried to lift your thigh over to one side but unlike you, your boyfriend was clearly having a hard time moving on. His hands were on your waist, keeping you from moving, his eyes focused on your ruined panties. 

“Jen?” He hummed absentmindedly. “I need to clean up.” He was a little dazed as he looked up to you, his hands suddenly letting go as if he just realized he was caging you in. You tried standing, and you cringed from the sensitive and utterly wet feeling between your thighs. “Can you get me some undies from my suitcase?” You had your legs twisted slightly inwards, your stance awkward as you tried to keep the fluids from dripping out.

“I don’t know…” he pondered, “I kinda like the look of that.” You groaned at his response. Trickles of white were beginning to ooze from the edges of the fabric, and you knew if you didn’t handle it now there would be a bigger mess to take care of. 

“Jeno,” you whined, “please? I can’t move.” He only smiled wider at your predicament. “Ugh, why are you even so wound up…”

“Really? You don’t get why all I’m riled up thinking of you walking around full of my cum?” Well, when he puts it like that… 

“Okay, fine. Maybe I do get it.” You were careful not to show how his remark made goosebumps rise on the back of your neck. “Now get my underwear or get cumstains on your immaculate floor.”

He laughed at your threat but stood to fulfill your wishes, fixing himself up a little before going into the bedroom, coming back a minute later. You snatched the folded bundle in his hand, turning to the direction of the bathroom before a thought snagged in your head. You pivoted back to the couch, Jeno amused as he watched you try to lean over to the end table without walking.

“Gotcha,” you mumbled after struggling to fish through the clear bowl, holding a golden piece between your fingers. You faced him and threw the chocolate in the air, and it seems this time he’s learned his lesson, catching it easily in one hand. 

“Good boy!” You cooed, walking over to him carefully so you could ruffle his hair. He scrunched his nose at you, pretending to ward you off as he ate the confection. You huffed at his reaction, turning your back to him and waddling to the bathroom as he giggled behind you.

It was the habits developed since that day which led you down the weirdest, most preposterous mission of your life yet. When you realized what was happening, you swore to yourself that it was unintentional. It was just that the bowl of chocolate coins was always there. Sat within your reach, looking all convenient, plentiful, tempting. 

Every time Jeno would do you a little favor⁠ (the subtle ways he liked to take care of you like handing you the remote, getting you a glass of water from the kitchen, standing up to draw the curtains when he noticed that the midday sunlight was a little too harsh on your face⁠) it was all too easy for you to reach for a golden piece, tossing it his way or feeding it to him yourself, the treat paired with the various ways you liked to show how much you appreciate him.

Your rewarding system was quite generous, and a few days later you’ve almost exhausted the supply. Despite that, you still munched on the gold pieces as you binge watched The Big Bang Theory with Jeno. You were half-sat and snuggled up on the bed, his arm hugging round behind you, ending with his hand laying softly on your tummy. His head was tilted to the side, resting against yours. The only bit of affection you had to offer was your leg strewn over his, your arms cradling the clear bowl instead. 

You popped a piece in your mouth in time as one of the characters, Sheldon, offered the same to Penny. You giggled at the coincidence, shifting a little to your side before holding up the last piece from the bowl. “Chocolate?” Jeno chuckled at your offered mimicry, pushing your wrist down with his hand. “You sure?” 

There was a hint of conflict in the way he pursed his lips before asking you, “Do you need anything?” 

“Um, no.” Your eyebrows scrunched a bit from the untimely question. “Just you.” He smiled at your answer. His hand trailed from your stomach to your thigh, expressing his sentiments through a light squeeze. “This is the last piece, though. Sure you don’t want it?” His eyes darted between you and the chocolate. 

“If it’s the last one…” He took it gingerly from your fingers, lifting his hand from your thigh to remove the wrapper. “…then you can have it.” His hand squeezed your cheeks, making you jump a little as he quickly fed you the treat with his other hand, his finger brushing the inside of your puckered lips. You blinked at him, mouth still parted when his touch left you. “What? Not even a ‘thank you?’” He cocked his head in amusement, tempering your surprise into embarrassment as you pulled your gaze away.

You rolled your eyes although warmth still coated your cheeks. Jeno was always the affectionate kind, but that was only when the two of you were alone, free from any outward stares. Now that you lived together, it’s been three days of having you all to himself and subjecting you to the full extent of his mushy tendencies, as if making up for all the opportunities he lost to wandering eyes. 

Not once in the last three days has he failed to send your heart lurching to your ribs, but not once have you directly admitted to it either, refusing to be the one who’s always on the flustered end of the relationship. He’s just been more attentive to your needs, more shameless in expressing his feelings, and even more helpful than he was before, which was already a lot as it was. 

Like he was privy to your thoughts, he broke the silence with an “Are you feeling hungry? Iʼll go make ramyeon for us.” You nodded, perfectly aware that heʼd take your portion into account regardless of your answer. “Just in case you change your mind,” heʼd say. 

You shimmied onto his spot once he left the bedroom, burrowing your back into his side of the bed and bunching the covers up against you. “His butt’s so warm,” you thought, snickering to yourself.

Minutes into watching the episode alone, the apartment scenes weaved back into the story and your laughter wafted through the air as you watched the repetitive interaction between the two characters. Penny cleared up the table after eating, followed by “Chocolate?” from Sheldon, taking and eating it without a second thought. She sat on the couch, careful to keep Sheldon’s seat vacant, “Chocolate?” She excused herself to the hallway for a phone call, “Chocolate?” She caught herself from disrupting anime night, “Chocolate?” You giggled at the first few instances, but it grew weaker and weaker as an eerie feeling overcame you, and soon the fake sitcom laughter was left unaccompanied in your silence.

“I know what you’re doing,” Leonard told Sheldon. “You’re using chocolate as a positive reinforcement for what you consider correct behavior!” 

“Very good! Chocolate?” 

You gawked at the screen as an epiphany landed on you. Is that the reason for Jeno’s amplified devotion? “Chocolate?” You whisper-shouted to yourself, mind replaying all the times you tossed a sweet trinket his way, flickering between doubt and shock at the revelation. 

“Stop using my girlfriend as your lab rat!” Leonard whined. 

To your surprise, you answered a defensive “I’m not!” to the screen. “I’m not… right? Holy shit.” The discovery was like a douse of cold water and the longer you pondered on it the more it made sense, the more ideas blossomed in your mind, and you plunged deep into a world that was equal parts strange and full of curious, unexplored possibilities. 

You’re not given enough time to process it as you’re called out to the dining table. You carried the empty bowl with you, your bare feet dragging on the floor as you walked your way to your boyfriend whose back was turned to you. You propped the bowl at the end of the table and sat opposite him, his lips tugging upwards at the sight of you. He dug in rather enthusiastically, and after a few happy bites he took notice of your stillness. “Why aren’t you eating?” 

You sounded an oh at the question, broken from the jumbled thoughts still running about your head, and took a small sip. He frowned, grabbing the spoon from your hand. “Want me to feed you myself?” He said it like a threat, the beginnings of a skewed smile on his expression. 

Your nose scrunched at the suggestion, but you untensed as you considered using it as a chance test of sorts. You looked up to him with unsure eyes, clearing your throat. “That—I’d like that,” you mumbled, your gaze focused at the skin between his eyebrows. It was a trick you learned whenever you couldn’t look him in the eyes, something that’s been happening a lot lately. 

Pleasant surprise painted over his features, and he didn’t question your easy compliance. Soon enough his elbows were leaned on the table, and he was feeding you and eating alternately out of the same utensils. Getting spoonfed wasn’t as bad as you imagined, but what you couldn’t take was the proximity. His face was so near yours that you could see each of his eyelashes in the awkward intervals when both of you just chewed in silence. 

“Too close…” You gave him a weak push on the arm he was leaning on just as he was trying to give you the next bite. 

“I can go even closer—”

The dull thud of wood, metal screeching against tiles, and the sharp clang of silver was the background music to your surprise when Jeno leaned in even more. You had whacked at his hand and pushed your chair back, the silverware flying from his hand to the table before flopping to the floor. 

The sound of disapproving tuts pulled your gaze from the mess of soup and noodles on the floor, landing on the bright orange stain on your boyfriend’s shirt. An apology hung by the tip of your tongue, only to fizzle when you felt his thumb swipe on your cheek.

“Bad girl,” he mumbled as he wiped off the few drops that splashed onto you.

You kept shifting your glance around the dining area before gathering the wits to stand up and get a cleaning rag. Your stubborn refusal to look his way was enough for him to know that the feeding session was over, so he cleared up the ceramics as you took care of the mess. Once everything was spick and span again, you were ready to drown in the bedsheets and forget about how flustered you got at being called a bad girl, until the source of your embarrassment cleared his throat, calling your attention.

“Aren’t you forgetting something…?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, I’m sorry?” you tried, the hint of a wince on your features as he chuckled at your reaction. 

“No…” His gaze whipped to the end of the table, face falling at the sight of the clear bowl being empty. “Oh.”

“Didn’t you say you wanted me to have the last piece?” The confidence swelled in you at the reminder that this was your little test, and his reaction might have just proved your hypothesis. 

“I did…” he mumbled, eyes not leaving the bowl, a little crease between his eyebrows and his lips set to a pout. You almost felt bad thinking he looked adorable like this, almost considered if you could have conditioned yourself into spoiling him with the chocolates. You brushed the thought off, heading to the fridge to get water for both of you. As the door swung back, something glinted in the corner of your eye, sandwiched between two eggs in the tray. Gold.

You had no idea how it got there, but you snatched it up, completely forgetting about the water. “Jen?” He looked up, lips still pouting. “Fetch!” 

It was comical, strangely caricature-like when he trapped the projectile chocolate in both hands, face lighting up as he held the gold circle in his palm. A weird feeling crept on your nerves as you watched him eat it, your mind playing little games on you as the image of him with a happy, wagging tail flashed before your eyes. 

You shook the thought away, walking over to him and wrapping your arms loosely around his waist. The embrace doesnʼt last, the wet feeling from the stain on his shirt making you back away. 

“You need to wash up,” you commented, nose scrunched. 

“This is your fault, you know.” 

“Yeah, and I said sorry.” He laughed, cupping your face in his hands. 

“Alright then. Wanna join me in the shower?” You slapped a hand to his chest, making him laugh even louder. “Right, fine. Iʼll have you in there someday, though. I promised every room, remember?” He wiggled his eyebrows, pressing a chaste kiss to your nose before making his way to the bedroom. 

You walked behind him, plopping onto the bed as he got ready for a shower. You waited for him to close the bathroom door before fishing your phone out. 

There was an urgent call you needed to make. 

“Hello, Peaches!” It only took two rings before you heard the familiar nickname greet you, Donghyuck’s teasing voice penetrating through the line. Hearing your best friend brought a smile to your face, a little disbelief coursing through you that you didnʼt talk a peep in the last three days. “How’s marital bliss?” The question stretched your smile even further. You used to get annoyed from how he always referred to you and Jeno as a married couple, but you were quite used to it now.

“It’s the worst.” Your tone dripped with faux exaggeration. “I do nothing all day but get smothered with love, attention, and food. A divorce might be in the works soon.”

“Sounds tough, but I’ll throw you the biggest bachelorette party post-divorce and get you drunk out of your wits you might just wake up married to me.”

You snorted. That sounded exactly like something he would do. “Funny, but bachelorette parties are for unmarried—” You halt your own words, analyzing the notions of his statement in your head. “Wait…. that actually makes more sense than tradition.”

“Right? I’m the genius everyone refuses to acknowledge.” You heard a clatter in the background, likely that he knocked something down with the animated hand gestures he always did.

“Anyway, how’s life?” you asked. “You haven’t burned anything down in my absence, have you?” He still had a couple weeks left before he moves out of the flat you used to share.

“I had to hold myself back from torching the sofa, you know? All those nights I had to feign ignorance when Jeno finger banged you under the blanket on movie nights,” he sighed. “If only the memory could go down in flames.”

Your jaw dropped at the confession. “You what—”

“Oh, the things you thought you got away with!” Your eyes only grew wider. You knew perfectly well about those things, alright. It made you feel a little guilty, but considering Donghyuck had his fun acting all mean towards your boyfriend most of the time, you thought it was only fair. “Don’t you remember? Magnolias, violets, freesias…”

The names of flowers seemed random and only sparked confusion. Hyuck suddenly sparked an interest for floral scents when you began university, although he could never for the life of him do any actual gardening. You remembered how he could always sense them though no one can, asking “Doesn’t it smell like carnations?” to both you and Jeno on the nights he came over—

Oh. 

“I was trying to send signals but who was I kidding? Neither of you could even come close to my wavelength,” he bragged.

You couldn’t stop the images that flashed through your head of all the quickies and hushed sexcapades, coating you in embarrassment as you realized that almost without fail, there was a mention of a flower from your best friend after every deed. 

“Hyuck! Couldn’t you have just told me like a normal person?”

��And act like a total cockblock? Jeno and I don’t always see eye to eye, but I wouldn’t do that to anyone. What’s good for me is I’ve collected enough blackmail material to ask for your firstborn,” he snickered. “Now tell me why did you decide to disturb my perfectly peaceful present? Wait, no, hold your thoughts. Did you notice my genius there? Alleviation.”

“What?” You’re pulled back to reality by the out-of-place word, not understanding what “alleviation” he was talking about. Was it some new kind of slang?

“The three p’s! Perfectly peaceful present. Uh-lee-vee-aye-shun. Geez, woman. Aren’t you supposed to complete 18 units of English for law admission?” You soaked in a few seconds of silence as you processed what he meant. 

“Hyuckie…” 

“What?” 

“Alliteration!” You barely got the word out before bursting into a fit of giggles. “You’re talking about alliteration!” Your laughter rang out uninhibited as you imagined the frozen look he would have on his face whenever he was flustered.

“Well! It’s not my area of expertise.”

“Right. Sure. Whatever,” you said in between snorts.

“I’m hanging up—”

“Wait, no! Iʼm in dire need of your expertise right now. There’s something I’m not quite sure about and I think you would know about it.” Your best friend loved to tease, but he never liked it when it was mutual. He was petty and you knew he would have dropped the call and not picked up for the rest of the evening if you didn’t suck up.

“I’m listening.”

“I might have done something involving Jeno and chocolate…” you trailed off, not sure how to introduce the situation directly.

“When you said ‘area of expertise,’ I thought you meant psychology, not some kinky shit—”

“No!” 

“—although neither is wrong—”

“Oh, shut up! I am referring to psychology.” You didn’t give him any more chances to derail the conversation, the events of earlier tumbling out of you quick and easy. Jeno, chocolate, big bang, positive reinforcement.

“That’s where my chocolates went? You bitch! Although I can’t say I’m surprised.” You shrugged at his reaction out of habit. “The show’s right for the most part. Positive reinforcement. It’s under a process called operant conditioning, wherein an association is formed between the behavior and the consequences of a behavior through positive or negative—”

“In English, maybe?” 

“I am speaking English. You just speak dumb.” Your eyebrows furrowed at the insult, ready to retort until he cut you off. “Anyway! Operant conditioning is rewarding or punishing to either reinforce or discourage certain behaviors. It’s a learned response and it’s voluntary. That’s what you think you did by bribing your kind boyfriend into becoming your slave over some cheap ass chocolate coins.”

You frowned at the explanation and his choice of words, but you expected just as much. “Great. Thanks for that perspective. Now I feel guilty, thanks.” It was his turn to laugh on the other line.

“It’s not that deep, Peaches! I bet Jeno’s just a soft dom who wants you to be his baby.” You heaved retching sounds into the air. “Serious! That boy’s an open book and I’ve been reading him since day one. Dom vibes all over. Has he asked you to call him Daddy yet?” The retching sounds intensified. “Even if you did somehow condition him, it’s nothing to fret over. We do that to children! They use it in schools. It’s a teaching technique and it’s normal. Plus, if you succeeded I would count it as a damn good feat. God knows I tried to get you to regularly wash the dishes with ice cream.”

You resonated with his point, but you had to sigh. “And here I was thinking you treated me so often out of the kindness in your heart.”

“Kindness and a heart? You ask too much of me,” he continued as you chuckled. “You know what would be really fun though? There’s another kind of conditioning. Classical conditioning. It trains involuntary response. There was this guy named Pavlov who did an experiment on dogs—he was a piece of shit, by the way—and what he did was he rang a bell every feeding time. Eventually the dogs would salivate with just the sound of that bell, even without the presence of food. They’ve equated the two stimuli, food and sound, to the same involuntary response.” You shaped an O with your lips in shades of understanding and amazement. “So what I’m saying is, since he seems to respond so easily, you should try Pavlov dogging your boyfriend.”

Your hand slapped the mattress as you shook your head. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” His voice was exasperated at your swift rejection.

“You just called this Pavlov guy a piece of shit and you want me to follow in his light?” 

“He was an animal abuser. I doubt youʼll be using any torture methods on little old Jeno, unless your few days in pleasure island have already turned you into some nasty freak—” 

“Wouldnʼt that be illegal? Sounds like it could be a tiny bit illegal,” you cut him off before he could interrogate further on your bedroom habits.

“Last time I checked, you’re the one who’s going into law school, but if I say youʼre in the clear then don’t worry. I got 99% on my ethics final, after all.”

You scoffed. “This must be the missing 1%, then.” 

He groaned into the call, letting out a prolonged sigh before pushing the agenda once more. “Just give it a good old fashioned try, you boring little sourpuss. I doubt Jeno would be too mad at all the oral heʼs gonna get.” Your thoughts froze over at that last sentence. 

“Wait, no, rewind. Oral?” 

“You didn’t think I was suggesting you do the bell thing, did you?” Your silence was the only answer you offered. “You absolute dum-dum. Of course I was suggesting something sexual!”

“Yeah. Right. Of course. Why would I think you would ever suggest otherwise,” you deadpanned. You were still in a bit of shock as the magnitude of his suggestion doubled down on you.

He hummed into the phone. “Do something like… playing the macarena each time you go down on him.”

“Are you mental?” You almost shrieked, toning it down midway as you remembered Jeno was showering just some meters away.

“It’s a marvelous idea! Like an alarm tone for his dick. Hit him with a ‘Dale a tu cuerpo alegría Macarena’ and Jeno junior is up and ready to dance!”

“God, I think I’m actually gonna be sick,” you grimaced, clutching your tummy for unseen effect.

“What do you suggest, then?” Hyuck challenged.

“Nothing! I’m not doing it.” You crossed your arms under your chest, sitting up on the bed.

“Pussy.”

“Nut case.”

“Wimp.”

“Loony!”

“I bet you’re just scared.” You scoffed at his drop of the magic word. “I bet your head game is too weak to make it happen, anyways.”

“Excuse me!” You huffed, about to defend yourself, but how does one do that on the topic of fellatio, of all things?

“Yes? Excuse you? What is it?” By the sing-songy tone of his voice, you just knew that he could sense your predicament. This was Donghyuck’s specialty, baiting you with bets. There was just something about being friends with the boy that naturally came with that childish competitive spirit, his snide arrogance only there to make matters worse.

“What are the stakes?” Your voice was uncharacteristically calm, almost unnerving.

“Glad you asked. See, you might have taken my chocolates but I guess you forgot something of yours.” You raised an eyebrow. You couldn’t have forgotten anything, you even had a checklist. “You know those two giant bags of dehydrated marshmallows you bought online? Are they even bags? They’re the size of sacks aren’t they? They arrived two days ago.”

“Oh my god.” Your heart dropped at the mention of the marshmallows. Lucky Charms are only valid for their marshmallows, and when you found out that 40 pounds of just the marshmallows were being sold online for a limited period, you made the quickest impulse purchase of your life. How could you forget? “They’re called marbits,” you whispered. Marshmallow bits.

“Oh your god indeed, and they can be called chalk bits for all I care. I’ve already opened one—”

“You did not!”

“—so stakes are on the one I left untouched. Unless, of course, your generosity wants to leave that to me too—”

“No. Deal. You’re on.”

His squealing laughter pierced through the speaker, making you hold the phone away from your ear. “Deal’s on what, though? How do you plan on Pavlov dogging the boyfriend?” 

You nibbled on the corner of your bottom lip, still a little intimidated by the concept of… Pavlov dogging, but you also couldn’t deny the feeling of excitement slowly bubbling in you. “I don’t know yet, but I’m certain it’s not gonna involve the macarena in any way possible.” You grimaced at the reminder of that scarring mental image.

“Bo-ring!” He genuinely yawned at the end of the word, and you were reminded of his screwed up sleeping schedule, likely that he hasn’t had a wink of rest yet.

“I’ll figure it out and tell you ASAP,” you promised. 

“You better. And I want full reports, detailed rundowns—”

“You’re disgusting.” Your nose scrunched at the implications.

“Of the progress, Peaches! What do you think of me? I’m purely academic on this, a professional researcher,” he insisted.

“Can’t believe I’m getting myself into this…” you muttered.

“You said the same thing when I bet you couldn’t get that popular biochem major’s number in our freshman year,” he said, “and look where you are now: in a loving, sexually fulfilling relationship with said biochem major for, what? Almost three years? You’re welcome, by the way.” You grumbled at the reminder. He wasn’t wrong, though. He just wouldn’t stop mentioning it every chance he got.

“Thank you, Hyuck. Meanwhile, get some sleep and do not touch the last bag of marbits.” He muttered his half-hearted assurances and exchanged goodbyes, and soon you were left to your own thoughts.

“What the hell did I just sign up for?” You’ve been pacing around the bedroom since the call dropped. Still, it had to be done. If not for shoving it on Donghyuck’s face, then for the marbits. And if not for the marbits… well, for your own curiosity. The most important thing was it had to be inconspicuous enough for Jeno to not notice. You didn’t know if self-awareness contributed to the effectiveness of conditioning, but you were enforcing this rule to save yourself the embarrassment of explaining the whole situation to Jeno. You walked in little uneven circles around the room until you stepped on something slippery, something silky. You looked down, and there was a shimmery purple peeking from under your toes. 

A scrunchie.

You picked it up, sliding it over your wrist then bunching your hair up in your hands, thinking it might help your brainstorming if your hair was out of the way—

“Wait. That’s it!” you whisper-yelled. The apple dropping on Newton’s head was the hair tie suffocating your wrist. Blowjobs and ponytails! It was subtle and it was perfect. You went back around the room in excited little hops, like Archimedes running naked through Syracuse shouting ‘Eureka!’ except your journey to the closed bathroom door was in silence. You leaned an ear against it, and it brought a sly smile to your face to hear the shower still running. You peeked at your left hand with the purple silk around it, bolstering your confidence as you turned the unlocked knob and entered quietly.

The door opened to a wide space of black tiles, a large built-in bathtub to the right. The sinks and mirrors were some feet before you, attached to the singular wall of white marble that stood in the middle of the room. The shower area was on the opposite side of the partition, and you walked barefoot and nimble towards it, stopping a few steps in front of the mirror as you contemplated whether to take your white shirt and booty shorts off. You decided in favor of leaving them on, wanting to give him a full show of you in wet clothes as you took care of him.

You stepped past the wall, into the area in front of the glass shower encasement where the tiles transitioned into a patch of white smooth decorative rocks. Jeno had his eyes closed with his back to the shower head, giving you a slightly clouded view of his nude front as you stood just outside the sliding door unbeknownst to him. Your eyes trailed along with the water caressing his skin, flowing down from the side of his face, his neck, the defined ridges of his abs, and downwards more until you’re met with a stroke of unexpected luck.

He was already hard, curved cock proudly pointing upwards.

The sight had you taken aback, startled and aroused, and in your daze your foot slipped a little on the rocks, the noise distinct against the sound of running water that alerted Jeno to open his eyes. He didn’t look surprised to find you in front of him, his expression slowly morphing into a smirk as he regarded you with half-lidded eyes.

“I was just thinking of you,” he said, not moving from where he stood.

“What about me?” you answered softly, stepping a little closer to the sliding door, eyes trained on his.

“About every which way I planned on ruining you tonight,” his lips tugged higher upwards, “and it seems you appeared right out of my imagination. Are you here to help me fulfill my promise?”

You didn’t answer, sliding the door open in front of you, a gust of warmth and humidity invading your atmosphere. You stepped inside, feet met with cold wet tiles, not bothering to shut the door behind you as you walked straight up to your boyfriend and caught his lips in yours in a soft kiss, your arms wrapped loosely around his neck. The warm water traveled from his bare chest down to your clothes, soaking you and making the fabric cling to your skin. His erection rubbed against you as you pressed closer to him, breaking the kiss as he groaned.

You slid down to your knees, hands dragging on his body, settling on the backs of his thighs. Jeno found it harder to breathe, the air going through his parted lips heavier as he drank in the sight below him. Your white shirt was soaked see through, hinting at the lace bra you had underneath as you stared at him with a wide-eyed, guileless expression.

You rubbed your palms up and down his thighs, breathing hard on purpose so he could feel your warm breath so close to his need. He placed his hands on top of yours, ceasing their motion as he nudged his hips a little, just enough to bump his tip against your moist lips.

“No teasing baby,” he whispered. “I’ve been dreaming of your pretty mouth for too long in here.”

You smiled innocently before ducking your head down to lick a stripe on the underside of his cock, from the base just until the ridge of his tip, careful not to touch his most sensitive part yet. He exhaled slowly from the warm, wet feel of the flat of your tongue, hitching abruptly when you took a ball in your mouth, suckling gently, drawing breathy grunts from him before you switched to the other one.

You sat back for a second, admiring his cock looking even stiffer than before, the veins wrapped around it bulging. Your core ached to have it buried in your walls, thighs squeezing together for some relief, but that’s not what you were here for right now. 

You pulled your hands to the front, and you’re greeted by the bright purple on your left hand again, smirk pulling at your lips. You wrapped both hands on his length, fists going back and forth as you twisted them in opposite directions, applying just the right pressure to make him lean an arm on the wall beside him, watching you with eyebrows scrunched and mouth dropped open.

His receptiveness made you smile wider, your grip growing firmer, a deep, strangled moan escaping him. You pressed a light, chaste kiss to his tip, and he immediately bucked his hips forward, trying to push past your tightly shut lips. You looked up gain, smiling as you shook your head no.

His tip was leaking pre-cum, and you stuck your tongue out as you kept your motions constant, watching it collect and drip down before you caught it on your wet muscle, moaning and licking your lips before poking your tongue against his tip, trying to taste more of the clear liquid while Jeno hissed and pushed harder against your tongue. 

You took mercy on him, pulling back to get ready for the main show. Your hands retreated to your hair, and you made sure to look him in the eyes as you twisted the scrunchie in smooth loops. Jeno smiled as he helped push the hair back from your face, but your hand flew to his wrist and pulled it in, holding his hand near your mouth as your tongue darted out to swirl around his index finger, and you giggled at the growl your lewd action incited.

You finally took him in your mouth, going halfway down his cock and bobbing back up and down again, your right hand pumping the rest of his length, your left massaging his balls. He let out a satisfied moan, his hand naturally moving to your bunched up hair and gripping it tight. 

You withdrew with a popping sound, giving him a couple of firm tugs before you cupped both hands under your chin, coating them in your spit. You spread your palms flat on either side of his cock and began gliding them in opposing directions. You felt his thighs quiver a bit, and that was when you swirled your tongue in circles around the head of his cock, the wet sounds accompanying the splash of water behind him. The pitch of his moans climbed higher, and you’re surprised to hear him whine when you took his tip into your hot mouth, hollowing your cheeks around it and sucking in continuous, slow intervals, accompanied by the persistent glide of your palms on him.

“Baby, fuck,” he panted. “My baby’s a goddamn pro. Always so good for me. Love you so fucking much.” The praise had you moaning around him, your mind reeling and your thighs squeezing tighter together. You removed your hands from his cock, grabbing instead at his ass, your fingers digging into his skin. You slid your mouth further and further down his length slowly until you had the entirety of him down your throat. Jeno kept cursing at the air as his cock remained lodged in you, moving only with small bobs of your head, his tip prodding so deep inside you repeatedly, coaxing fat tears to form at the corner of your eyes as you found it harder and harder to breathe.

One of your hands dropped to your core, rubbing your clit through your shorts as you moaned and gargled around your boyfriend’s cock. He started twitching in your mouth and he bucked into you involuntarily, making you swallow and gag around his length, drawing a growl out of him.

To your surprise, his hand tugged on your hair, your lips dragging on his length as he pulled you off. Your first response was to gasp for air, but soon you were whining and pouting, grabbing at his thighs and trying to pull him back closer to you. 

He bent down instead, pulling you up from under your arms until you were both standing. He tugged your shorts and underwear down together, and you lifted each foot up to help before he discarded both, landing with a wet splash behind him. He crouched down before you, pushed your thighs apart and lapped at your clit, his hands squeezing the backs of your thighs. 

Shrill whimpers slipped from your mouth as Jeno kept making out with your pussy, keening when he started fucking you with his middle finger. It wasn’t nearly enough, and you rocked against his face, his nose nudging at your clit. 

He pulled away from you after a few minutes, and before you could even complain his palm landed on your ass, making you gasp at the sharp contact, your body arching above him a little bit. Without warning, he stood up and lifted you by the hips, hoisting you on his shoulder high enough that your feet hovered above the floor, Jeno carrying you out of the shower. A confused squeak came out of you, but you wrapped your arms around his shoulder nonetheless, kissing on his neck.

“I’m fucking you on the bed,” he rasped. “I can get you wetter without all this water.” You didn’t contest, and you felt a little relieved because you were beginning to worry that the constant stream of hot shower was going to dry out his skin. 

By the time he’s walked you out to the bedroom, you’ve already managed to leave two lovebites on his jaw. You lacked the time to admire your handiwork as Jeno dropped you down the mattress, your back landing on the soft cotton sheets. He tugged the hem of your shirt upwards, and you held your hands up as he pulled the wet fabric off you. You began to unhook your bra, but he beat you to it with a simpler solution of ripping the flimsy number into two pieces from the front.

“Jeno!” They weren’t the sturdiest pair, but they were worth the aesthetic and you were not too happy to see them lying ruined on the floor.

“I’ll buy you a whole closet,” he whispered before circling his tongue around your nipple. Your soft cries poured out of you continuously as the licking and sucking grew more intense, but your hand pulled at his hair when you remembered something.

“Wait. Babe, the shower,” you recalled in between pants.

“What?” It was a response on autopilot, Jeno paying you no actual mind as he just dived for your other nipple, fingers playing with the one you forced him to abandon.

“The water’s still running.” There was no response from him, just the feeling of his fingers trailing down your stomach, inching to the inside of your thighs. “Jeno.” Your fingers pulled on his hair again, harder this time, but it elicited a reaction other than what you hoped for as he groaned on your nipple, its effect ricocheting on you as you whimpered at the sound.

“The water bill isn’t a problem, baby.” Your back arched off the bed as he slipped two fingers into you, your already wet heat making it too easy for him to pump into you fast. “Now will you just let me—”

“I’m not worried about your—ah, fuck!—about your fat wallet. I’m thinking of Mother Earth!” Despite your aching need, you steeled your nerves and clamped your thighs together tight, pushing his hand away while your own body screamed at you for your actions. 

He didn’t say anything as he looked at you with dark eyes, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek before he swiftly turned around, striding fast and aggravated as he headed back into the bathroom. His footsteps sounded heavy as he returned, and the look on his face told you that you were truly in for it tonight. He lifted your thighs up on his forearms, hooking onto them before he pulled your body to the foot of the bed and kneeled down the floor, his breath hot on your core.

“Just for that, I’m pulling at least five orgasms out of you tonight,” he declared before diving into you, your hands bunching up the sheets on either side of you, moans flying into the evening.

It was day seven of your determined “trials,” and Jeno was living his best life. Well, you both were, considering he was always more of a giver and liked to repay you five times over the mind blowing orgasms you gave him on the daily. Your hair tie collection was growing in size as well, buying new colors, shapes, sizes and patterns whenever the chance arose, not a day without one at the ready on your wrist. 

Today, however, you were off-schedule for his wake-up blowjob because something else came buzzing at the doorbell, shaking the two of you out of the sleepy haze from last night’s activities. Jeno was anchoring you down with his arm across your body, mumbling that “it’s probably just a package,” and that there was no need to get up because “they’ll just leave it out front.” Thank the deity that looked down on you that day and blessed you with just enough strength to drag the two of you out of bed, because that was no delivery man outside.

It was his mom.

Of course, after the initial surprise wore off you gave her an easy smile, hugging each other before you helped her with the heavy bags she had on both arms, Jeno in turn taking them from you as you all gathered inside.

She fixed the groceries and side dishes she brought along with her, surveying the fridge and pantry to make sure you were both running on actual nutrition and not “all those instant bags of MSG” her son so loved. While she went about her business, she mentioned how she had texted Jeno a few days ago about her pending visit, something you never heard of until today. You gave Jeno a tight smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes, and he picked up on your silent warning, quickly looking away and sparking conversation with his mom.

It’s not that you didn’t get along with his family. Oh no, you absolutely loved them and the feeling has been mutual since you were introduced on your first anniversary. But right now, with your hair a bird’s nest, your string top from the night before without even a bra on, you couldn’t wait for the privacy to give him a piece of your mind about the lack of a heads up. Maybe all that sex concentrated his blood down south and messed with his memory.

Lucky for him, his mom was a total sweetheart, her cheery countenance managing to fizzle out your irritation as she pulled out these huge photo albums from one of the bags. You giggled at his baby photos, his bum stark naked in half of them, the other half spotlighting the endearing eye smile he’s had since childhood. She was in the middle of another backstory, the one behind a photo of Jeno crying in what was apparently the set for a TV commercial, when her phone rang and interrupted her spirited narration.

“Your dad needs me for urgent business,” she explained after hanging up, flashing the whites of her eyes in jest at the last two words. Jeno was already walking to the door, about to grab the car keys off the hook.

“I’ll drive you—”

“Oh, don’t bother! He’s already parked out front.” She tipped her head towards you, giving you a knowing smile. “The men in this family are no good with giving advanced notices.” You grinned at her, shaking your head in solidarity.

Jeno’s gaze flitted to anywhere but on your person once you were alone again, but you didn’t do much damage other than playfully biting him on the arm. The encounter ended up giving you a fuzzy feeling inside, and you felt like you were able to bond with his mom on a deeper level. Relaxed. Comfortable. “Familiar,” you thought, mind lingering on how the word was rooted in “family.”

You began collecting the photobooks, stacking them on top of each other and placing them on the shelves in the living room. You looked into the bag they came from, checking if there was any more left inside, and you were greeted by a thin, rectangular box wrapped in dark emerald velvet. You picked it up, squinting at it before calling Jeno over. 

“Babe? I think your mom left this by mistake.” He looked over to you from the kitchen island where he was preparing two bowls of cereal, his half moons growing into wide circles as he registered what you were holding up in the air. “I think we should call her and—”

He ran over to you, taking the box in your hand and bolting away.

“Where the hell are you going!” You had no idea what was going on, but you quickly ran after him, realizing he was headed to the guest room. He was a good few steps ahead, but before he could close and lock the door on you, you stretched your arm out, wedging your hand through the gap. Your lapse in judgment swiftly cracked down on you, the pain shooting through your fingers as the door slammed just beneath your knuckles, tearing a pained cry from you as you clutched the hand to your chest, squatting on the floor.

“Shitshitshitshit! I’m so sorry baby, shit, I’m sorry.” Jeno flung the door back open when he heard you yelp, immediately rushing to your side, prying softly at your arm so he could take a look at your hurt. There was a linear mark that ran across your fingers, colored in a red that was gradually deepening in shade, the digits shaking as you felt the blood throb in that area. He winced at the sight, and he felt even worse knowing for certain it was going to leave tender bruises for days. He murmured apologies in between the most gentle kisses to your knuckles, his hand wiping at the couple of tears that escaped you.

You stayed like that for a few minutes before he asked, “Does it still hurt?” You shook your head no. “I’m sorry.” You shook your head again.

“It was a stupid move, not your fault,” you assured him, sniffling a little. He helped you up, holding and guiding you inside the room, sitting you down on the bed so carefully as if the injury wasn’t just on your fingers.

“Wait here.” Your eyes landed on the emerald box now strewn on the floor near the door as he walked out, returning some minutes later with an ice cloth and lightly pressing it to your knuckles. “What was that about?” you asked, taking the cold pack from his hand to hold it on your own. He followed the trail of your sight to the box in question, taking a deep breath before retrieving it. He sat down next to you and opened the box. 

It was a necklace, its chain a thin delicate silver, the big teardrop pendant a deep emerald like its container. It was the most elegant piece of jewelry you’ve ever seen, and you had to tear your gaze away before you could fall in love with it. You had to return it, after all.

“You should really call your mom. She’d probably get upset if she finds out it’s lost.” 

“It’s not hers.” Your eyebrows scrunched in, confused at his reply. “I mean, it was hers. It was also my grandma’s, and my great grandma’s.” He took it out of the box, the stone glinting as it reflected the sunlight from the windows. “And now it’s yours.”

You were still busy staring at the pendant that turned gently from where it hung, scarcely registering his answer until it hit you like a truck.

“Mine?” you asked with wide eyes.

A hand sheepishly scratched at the back of his neck. “It was supposed to be your anniversary gift. I asked mom to send it over, I didn’t know she would go here to bring it herself. Must have missed her text.” 

You gawked at him, still in disbelief that he was seriously handing over not only what must be of hefty price but also a family heirloom. You shoved his hand away from you. “You’re insane. I can’t take this. We have to give it back to your mom.” 

He didn’t heed your words, unclasping the latch on the necklace. “She sounded even happier than I was when I called her about it. Trust me, if anything’s gonna break her heart, it’ll be if she finds this back in her drawer.” He gathered your hair to one side. You don’t miss the way he gulped, fingers lingering on the bunched strands. 

“I understand how you’re feeling,” he continued. “You probably think it’s all going too fast, that I didn’t think this through, right? My grams got this on her first date, my mom within four months. Dad and pops probably gave it as something to prove their feelings, but this is different. We’re already solid, baby. The three years we’ve been in love is all the proof we need. 

I’ve been serious about you for so long now, and each passing day I only grow more and more certain. Whenever my heart isn’t racing because of you, it rests easy and content knowing that you’re around. So I’m giving you this,” the chain was cold against your skin as he latched it around your neck, “because I want you to know that I’m sure about you—about us. And although it holds promises for our love in a future so far ahead of us, it also holds all the love I’ve bottled up for you in the last three years.” He cupped your face in both hands, lifting your gaze up to look him in the eyes, “So would you please, please indulge me and just drink it all up?”

By this point, your heart was squeezing almost painfully in your chest. You were no stranger to his sweet gestures, but unveiled declarations of love? It was rare for him to directly voice out his feelings longer than an ‘I love you.’ It made you feel like you were floating, your lips trembling as you spoke, “Fine, you smooth fucker.” The words were strong, joking, but the slight shake to your voice was otherwise. “I’ll take your bribe.”

“Thank god.” You were greeted by his eye smile before he ghosted a kiss to the corner of your lips, sparking a trail of light kisses that stretched down to where the emerald rested against the skin of your chest, goosebumps chasing after his touch as your breath hitched in your throat.

“I want to give your present early too,” you whispered, pulling his gaze back to your eyes as he hummed in question. You dropped the ice bag on the floor, your good hand thumbing on the thin strap of your top before pulling it down slowly past your shoulder.

“But you’re hurt…” 

“It’s barely a scratch,” you fibbed, raising your other hand and bending the fingers. It was a little tender, but nothing too bad. He didn’t look convinced though, about to reach for the ice again before you captured his wrist in your hand. “Jeno… I want to love you right now, baby. Please? Wanna make you feel loved…” 

You pulled on the other strap and dragged the thin fabric downwards to bunch at your waist, your breasts bouncing as they were freed from the tugging, your nipples hard and aching to be touched. You leaned in to draw him into a kiss, but his hands smoothed on your jaw, holding you in place as his eyes searched into yours.

“If you’re doing this because… because you feel like you’re obliged to repay me or something—”

You cut him off by clashing your lips together, starting out rough and gradually easing into each other like a sigh of relief. You broke off for air, the worry on his brows still present although toned down. “You’re really talkative today, I noticed. We’ve never had this problem before…” you said, and it was true to an extent. Apart from first times he wanted to make special and that one drunken incident, you couldn’t recall a moment where Jeno hesitated or turned down a chance to have you. “I’m doing this, like always, because I love you,” you clasped your hands behind his neck, thumbs rubbing over his skin soothingly. “I love you every single day, but right now I’m filled to the brim and about to spill over so…” You leaned your face closer, lips barely brushing against his as you whispered, “…can you drink me all in?”

His eyes fluttered shut at the feel of your warm breath, your soft lips, obliging with feather-like presses of his closed mouth, gradually parting it open after each peck until it was as if a dam of desire and emotions ruptured in him and he had to pull you in as close as possible to shield you from the deluge, kissing like you were drowning and needed to share the oxygen in each other’s lungs to survive.

You were both a mess of gasps and pants when you broke apart. He pulled you to stand along with him, and he kneeled down to undress you, his usual callousness for clothes missing as he gently tugged every piece off you until there was nothing left hidden from his eyes. He went back to his feet, dragging his fingertips upwards from your legs to your sides as he did, and lifted you off the floor to lay you down on the bed. 

His eyes soaked you in as you lied before him, fully exposed. He’s stunned, gaze trained to the teardrop gem in the valley of your breasts, rising and falling with the heave of your chest. 

“Jeno…” Your whine tore him from the daze, seeing your knees bent up, thighs squeezed and rubbing together to ease some of the tension from your glistening core. You watched him bend down to the foot of the bed, picking something up that was out of your sight, but he was empty handed as he climbed to the bed, crawling closer, fully clothed and hovering above you. 

He supported himself on one arm bent above your head as he bowed into you, your bare body pressing on him as he kissed you deep, tongue stroking against yours, coaxing the sweetest sounds out of you. It was rhythmic and dance-like each time he dived into you, exploring you, and then resurfaced for air, pressing wet kisses on your face, neck, and shoulders, not a single second wasted without the touch of his lips on your skin. The heat rising in you was becoming unbearable, you needed him to do more, to touch you even more. Like he heard your silent plea, his other hand caressed the skin of your waist, and you jolted from the bed, breaking away from his lips, shivering. 

His fingertips were cold as ice, a reminder of the ice bag you left below flickering through your mind, the thought crumbling just as fast when his cold touch dragged to the inside of your thighs, grazing the sensitive skin up and down, your breaths coming out like stutters as they stop and start in reaction to the chilly feeling on your skin.

“J-jen…” Your whimpers were small, desperate, transitioning to a strangled gasp when he tapped tentatively on your clit, the sensation like a spark of electricity on the sensitive bud. Your moans poured out, core growing wetter and wetter as he rubbed your nub and sucked bruises onto your chest, surrounding the gem that you wore. The aching heat on your clit was thawing his fingers back to their warmth, and you keened as he replaced them with his thumb, his fingers easing into your velvet walls instead.

He pushed and pulled at an agonizing pace, and you bucked your hips trying to get him to speed up. He relented, pumping into you faster, his thumb nudging at your clit every time. He swallowed your frantic moans into a kiss, not slowing down when he felt your walls fluttering around his digits, allowing your first orgasm to crash on you easily.

He landed butterfly kisses on your hairline as you descended from the high, and you opened your eyes to find his lust-filled gaze on you, his pupils blown wide with want. You tugged at the bottom of his shirt, and he took the hint, lifting it off his torso, your hands quick to find purchase on the exposed skin, caressing the hard muscles that adorned it.

Begrudgingly, he had to pull away from your touch, getting off the bed to shed his lower garments. While he busied himself for a few seconds, you quickly shifted your weight on the bed, moving onto your knees and elbows, chest down and ass up in the air.

Jeno gulped when his eyes met your figure, all prepped and ready for him, the desire to take you slow and easy evaporating into something more primal and animalistic. His eyes focused on your waiting, soaked heat. He could have exploded the moment your hand reached from underneath you, your index and middle finger spreading your folds apart, a gush of moisture trickling down as you stretched yourself open for him, a needy moan of his name slipping past your lips.

He couldn’t help but groan, the blood rushing straight to his desire, his fist pumping on his painfully hard cock, spreading the pre-cum down on his shaft as he got on his knees on the bed, his other hand gripping onto you by the hip. He rubbed his tip on your slit a few times, gathering your slick on the head of his cock before slipping to the hilt into your waiting need, pushing a moan out of you both. 

He started out slow, hips rolling sensually in and out of you, every ridge and vein of his cock so pronounced to your walls at his laggard tempo. It was clear he was having a hard time restraining himself, his fingertips digging into your hip telling you just as much, so you wiggled against him, sinking lower into the mattress and stretching your arms out straight in front of you so your upper body was flat against the bed, your ass going higher and pressing onto him.

He grunted at your eagerness, thrusting harder into you, rocking you forwards on the bed. Your body arched even higher when he drilled into you from a downwards angle, his tip massaging the sensitive spot inside you with every roll of his hips. You cried obscenities into the air, your gaze lifted upwards, and your eyes trailed up your tense outstretched arms, landing on the thin black elastic on your wrist

The reminder brought a wicked grin to your face, and you placed a hand on top of his that was gripping on your hips, propping yourself up with your other hand on the mattress. You shifted on your knees until you were kneeling upright, movements careful to not to slip his entire length out of you just to plunge back down on his cock. 

His legs folded back as you sat on him, your ass nestled snugly against his pelvis, the new position eliciting a deep groan from him. His chest was flush to your back, cock buried in you as deep as he can get. Soft, wet kisses littered your right shoulder as his hands traveled to your breasts, cupping the mounds from underneath and giving them a firm squeeze as he bucked his hips into yours harshly, jolting both your bodies up from the mattress before slowly descending and jutting into you again, hard. Like rushing ocean waves that crashed violently against rocks, over and over. Like his body was the unyielding storm and it was wreaking havoc on every inch of you. 

Your scattered moans were a mess in the air above you, scattered, breathy, erratic. Jeno trails a hand to the front of your heat, the pads of his fingers drawing messy circles on your swollen clit. Your eyes shut at the simultaneous stimulation all over: his open mouthed kisses on your shoulder, his fingers rolling your nipple and rubbing at your clit, his rigid cock against your walls, slamming in fast and dragging out slow in repeated motion. 

It was so, so fucking good that you considered just letting him have his way with you, almost forgetting what you intended to do. Almost. You placed both hands on top of his and settled them on your hips. Wasting no time, Jeno used the leverage to lift your body up and down on his length. His pace only grew faster as he kept using you, fucking your body down on him.

“Jeno! Ah, babe, oh fuck, slow down.” He eased his grip on you, gradually playing down the tempo until he was just barely dragging you on his cock. He watched you from the back as your hands gathered your hair up into a loose ponytail, the motion smooth and delicate like a subdued kind of wonder in his eyes, and then you began bouncing on his length fast, clamping your walls around him on purpose.

“Fucking hell baby, you feel so good around me” he grunted, his fingertips jabbing into your skin but not interrupting your flow, letting you lead the pace. He bit his lip as he watched you sink onto his length, swallowing him and then pushing yourself back up, revealing your lips stretched and gripping his cock so tight. His eyes trailed up the skin of your bare back as you rode him faster, gaze going higher and higher until it landed on the loose tie on your hair, staring at the way it began slipping down from your feverish motions until it eventually landed on your back.

You stopped abruptly, whining “Put it back on me,” but Jeno didn’t answer. He was confused by your lack of motion, trying to lift you up in his grip until you slapped at his hands. “Tie my hair up for me.” He could practically hear the pout in your voice as he snatched the elastic from your back, groaning as you wiggled your hips on him.

You could feel his inexperience by how soft and wary his touch was, fumbling to gather your hair back. He’s probably never done it before, but he should know the motions by now from how often he’s seen you do it. He twisted the elastic twice, loose and sloppy, but it did the job. You smiled when his hands went back to your hips, and you resumed as if you never stopped, your pace relentless until you felt the hair tie slip down and you halted all action once more, whining for him to put it back on you again.

It was a loop of the same damned thing over and over, and you could feel his frustration by how quicker, how more careless he handled your hair each time. You were both getting edged by your stubbornness, and while it brought you amusement, it only gave him mirth that grew bigger and bigger until he couldn’t take it any longer. The next time the elastic fell, he tossed the wretched thing to the floor and bunched your hair up in his hand instead. You felt how hard he was gripping at your strands, stretching at your scalp as he angled your bodies higher off the mattress, kneeling you both up as he began thrusting into you himself.

Your body jostled forward at every lurch of his hips, the momentum stunted by his snug grip on your hair and an arm around your stomach. He used the constraint to pull your head back, exposing your neck to him, forcing a keen out of you as he bit and sucked on the delicate skin, leaving his marks on you.

Broken cries left you as his other hand fondled with your breast, gently tugging your nipple upwards in time with his thrusts. Your walls were beginning to contract around his cock, and before you could completely lose yourself on him, he slowed down and shifted you both on your sides. He embraced you tight against him, spooning as he resumed fucking into you, his tongue lapping at the bite marks he left on your neck, whispering sweet nothings against your skin.

“Babe… oh god, I‘m gonna cum,” you gasped.

“That’s my good girl,” He slipped his hand in front of you, massaging your clit to take you there faster, moans slipping out of you continuously. “Let go for me baby. I’m right here, I got you.”

“Fuck, Jeno—I love you baby, fuck!” you cried through your orgasm. Jeno didn’t stop thrusting, his fingers didn’t stop rubbing on your clit, making your whole body seize up with each contraction of your walls around him, milking around him until you felt his warmth spill into you, his grunts littering the air and his motions stilling save for his cock twitching as he painted your walls in white.

“I love you,” he whispered against your hair after releasing his hold on the strands. “Love my baby so much, always so good for me.” He showered you in praise and affection as he soothed a palm on your arm, rubbing softly on your skin, pressing innocent kisses to your neck.

Once you’ve filled your lungs back with air, you tapped on his hip behind you, signaling for him to pull out. You turned to face him on the bed, careful to clamp your thighs together so you don’t make a mess on the sheets.

He smiled contentedly at your tired and fucked out expression, his hand moving the hair away from your chest, revealing the necklace still clinging to your sweaty skin.

“I still think this is too much,” you rasped, holding the pendant between your fingers.

“Are you still thinking of giving it back after I fucked you in it?” You punched his arm, weak from all the effort exerted from your lovemaking. “Guess you’ll freak when I give you the matching earrings for our fourth anniversary, then.”

“Jen!” Your eyes widened at his off-handed comment.

“Be glad it isn’t the ring,” he smirked. “I’m saving that for the biggest occasion.”

You blinked, lips parted as you surveyed his expression, trying to figure out if he was being serious. You gathered your bearings quick enough, shaking your head at him and showing him the red marks still visible and a little darker on your hand.

“You did give me four other rings, though.”

He frowned at the reminder, taking your hand by the wrist and holding it above your head, concerned and a little annoyed that he almost forgot. “Keep these elevated,” he said, tone strict. You chuckled and left it at that, staring at his eyes that flitted over each of your features, licking his lips before he looked you in the eyes again.

“What if I told you we’re getting married after we graduate?” 

You were stunned for a second. You’ve never seriously talked about the possibility of that before. That was definitely too soon, and you were both too young, so you dodged the question with another of your own. “You’re that confident I’ll marry you?” You replaced your shocked expression for a teasing smirk, one which he returned easily.

“I’m really confident in my arms,” he began, making you squint at what seemed like a remark of vanity, “that I can just flip you over my shoulder and kidnap you to the altar if I must.” 

You giggled, lightly hitting his arm when the cute scene cropped up in your mind’s eye. When the laughter died down, your eyes gazed into his to find them swimming in sincerity and adoration. 

“Slow down there,” you whispered, the smile never leaving your lips. Every fiber in your being loved Lee Jeno, and it sent tingles through your skin and a pleasant kind of dizziness to think that he wanted to spend a lifetime loving you because you wanted it too, but you weren’t ready for wedding vows. You both had too much left to accomplish individually, and you wanted to chase those milestones together before settling down.

He didn’t push it, understanding that look in your eyes, pressing a kiss to your nose instead. “Our internships are starting soon,” he offered. “I’m gonna miss you when I’m back to spending my days with Jaemin in the lab.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were relieved at the shift in topic. “Babe, we literally live together now. We’ll still see each other everyday.” You pinched his ear between your fingers, making him scrunch his nose at you. “And I know you miss your friends, don’t even deny it. You sure you don’t want to invite them over for an anniversary party?”

He was quick to shake his head. “Nope, no way. I want you all to myself on that day.” He put an arm around you, pulling you in even closer as you giggled.

“Isn’t that how it is for you everyday?” He didn’t bother answering, nosing affectionately at the crown of your head instead. You interrupted his sappy mood when you felt a pang in your tummy, realizing neither of you have eaten anything yet. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Shit,” his touch retracted from you as he sat up abruptly.

“That doesn’t sound too appetizing…” you trailed off, raising an eyebrow at his strange actions.

“The cereal! It must be all soggy now,” he frowned, standing from the bed and abandoning you without a second thought.

“I want eggs, sunny side up!” You shouted at his retreating figure. He raised a thumbs up into the air and you smiled, contented at the thought of a future that held the same sight for all of your mornings.

“You’ve failed.” You rolled your eyes at Donghyuck’s dramatic line from the phone. 

It was D-1 before your anniversary, and your best friend was annoyed that you’ve never called him back for updates since your betting game commenced. You had just told him about the method you had chosen, of Pavlov and ponytails.

“On the contrary, I’m quite sure I’ve succeeded,” you noted with a self-assured smile, recalling all the times you’ve successfully been riling Jeno up the past few days with just a swish of your wrist on your hair, leaving him baffled as to why his sex drive has gone through the roof lately.

“But you have no evidence of that.” Donghyuck was right, but you scrunched your eyebrows at the unlikely feasibility of this requirement.

“How the hell am I supposed to provide evidence of that! You want my boyfriend’s dick pics?”

“Hell no!” You sneered at his high pitched denial. “If you actually stuck with our agreement and gave me regular progress reports, then we wouldn’t be having this problem.”

“You’re sick.”

“I’m a strict observer of the scientific method.”

You shook your head, just about done with his stubborn insistence. “You know what? You want proof? Fine.” You stood from the bed, walking off with the vigor of someone who’s about to win a horrific amount of marbits. “The codeword is orange.”

“The fuck are you on about?”

You smiled at his confusion. “When I say ‘orange,’ that means I just tied my hair up.” You stopped before the bedroom door, hand on the knob.

“Okay, and? Does Jeno shout back ‘lemon’ whenever he gets a stiffy?”

You rolled your eyes. “Just shut up and listen carefully, bitch.” You didn’t wait for his response, stuffing your phone in your pocket before opening the door and calling out, “Babe?”

“Yes baby?” You followed Jeno’s voice that rang from the kitchen, finding him pouring out a glass of water for himself before leaning against the counters, smiling at you. You gave him a bright smile of your own, silent as you neared him. He was probably expecting a hug and laid his cup down on the counter behind him, but he was surprised to see you sink down to your knees before him.

In three hard tugs, you’ve pulled his sweats and underwear down to set his soft cock free. Before anything else, you gathered your hair with both hands to one side of your neck, twisting it around but not tying it up just yet. Sure enough, his length twitched shortly after the action, but things weren’t going fast enough for you. You were motivated, sick as it may sound, by the thought of your best friend who was about to listen in on the filthy sounds of your victory.

“Babe, ah shit, what’s gotten into you?” You kept one hand wrapped around your hair as you began pumping him tight and fast in one hand, placing kitten licks on his tip, taking him into your mouth every now and then to get him nice and wet. There was no technique to it, no thought behind your actions as you just wanted him hard and ready fast. Once he was, you grinned up at his pleasured expression.

“Fuck my face.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, hopefully loud enough to conceal the squeak that came from your phone. He didn’t seem to notice, his hands moving to the sides of your face. “You sure baby?”

“As ever.” You gave him one last smile before dropping your jaw as wide as you can, sticking your tongue out. He drove into you slowly, and you had to do the work yourself to get around his hesitation, pushing forward until your nose was pressing against his skin. 

“Fucking shit. What did I do to deserve you?” He drew out and thrusted into you carefully, and you closed your eyes momentarily in frustration. “Just go hard on me damn it,” you thought, digging your nails into his ass cheeks to drive in your silent point. As if there was a telepathic line between you two, he did just that, picking up speed until he was fucking your mouth at a steady pace, the gargling sounds of your throat getting abused drifting into the atmosphere. 

Your eyes were stinging with tears but you powered through it until you ran out of breath, tapping rapidly against his thigh to let him know you needed a break. He withdrew from you, and your hands immediately flew to your hair. 

“Orange,” you rasped out. If he noticed your little codeword, it was all swept into the wind, forgotten as an even bigger surprise came out. You expected him to drill into you harder, absolutely lose himself and go berserk like he usually did when you tied your hair up, but you didn’t expect him to cum on sight as you put your hair into a ponytail. 

You were lucky when it came to reflexes, closing your eyes by instinct before he shot the first load onto your face. “Shit, baby, holy fuck, god fuck.” He was rambling, not making any sense as he kept pumping himself in his hand, no regard for you as he painted himself on your eyelids, cheeks, your mouth that was opened in shock. You stayed still, breath heaving as you took it like a champ, thick lines of his cum dripping on your skin, your tongue darting out to lick whatever it could reach.

“Baby, oh my god, sorry.” You couldn’t check to see if the apology looked sincere, waiting as he helped you clear the cum from your eyelids using his thumb, a surprised squeak coming out of you when you felt him push the digit into your mouth, making you suck it clean before he collected the rest of his cum and fed it all to you repeatedly.

He didn’t hesitate to bring you into a grateful kiss once he had most of your face cleaned, alternating between his ‘thank you’s’ and ‘sorry’s’ while his breathing was still recovering. You assured him it was alright and that you liked it, watching his ears tinge red from your admission before excusing yourself to the bathroom for a proper clean up.

You fished your phone out once you’ve locked the door behind you, checking the screen and smirking to find that the call was still active. “Better bring me my marbits in two days, sucker.” You laughed at the irony and dropped the call, not waiting to hear his reaction. Not like it mattered, your best friend made sure to blow up your phone just seconds apart.

Hyuck: FVCK YPU!!!!!
Hyuck: Did he CUM from you tying your hair up? That’s fifty shades of FUCKED UP
Hyuck: You actually done did it
Hyuck: That was DISGUSTING
Hyuck: But also kinda hot
Hyuck: But disgusting!
Hyuck: How the fuck am I supposed to eat oranges now
Hyuck: Never do that to me again
Hyuck: Unless…

You laughed to yourself, leaving everything on read.

Hyuck: Cocksucker. Enjoy your chalk bits. 
Hyuck: And your anniversary tomorrow too, I guess.

It was D-day. Three whole years of being Jeno’s girlfriend, and the thought still gave you whiplash whenever you realized how much time that actually was. 156 pages from your weekly calendar. 1,095 sunrises, times two for the sunsets. 26,280 hours, and you couldn’t be bothered with the math for minutes and seconds. There were countless ways to express how time has passed since you first said yes to each other, and all of that just went by in a blur.

Today seemed to have the same theme, a blur of kisses and sex from the moment you woke up and promises of an event-filled day. You were coaxed out of sleep by wet kisses to the inside of your thigh, the strands of your boyfriend’s hair rough against your skin as his hands kept you spread open, greeting you a “Good morning” and a “happy anniversary” from between your legs. He made quick work of you with his tongue and had you cumming twice before you tapped out. You wanted to take him inside you, but he was stubborn to deny your request, saying he didn’t want you sore so soon because he planned on fucking the daylights out of you tonight. You didn’t hate the idea, so you came to a compromise and had him fuck your tightly closed thighs instead, letting him cum all over your belly.

You managed to sweet talk him into divulging his plans for the day during your innocent absolutely-no-funny-business shower together, and now you were out on the main road in his car, on the way to the mall to buy you an evening dress on the spot for the fancy dinner he had on reservation for 9:00 p.m. The ride was quiet as you held hands, watching the stretch of road ahead of you. You looked over to your boyfriend, biting the nail of your other hand as you felt that he looked a little too peaceful for your tastes, an impish idea crossing your mind.

Though you already won the bet yesterday, the effects of your secret experiment were far from wearing off. You disentangled your hand from his, exaggerating your motions as you put your hair up to make sure he noticed from the corner of his eye. You smiled at his way when you heard an awkward clear of his throat, and from this setting there was no way he could have hidden the hard on tenting in his jeans. 

You pursed your lips to keep you from laughing, leaning over a little to have your hand palming at his jeans, his exhale coming out slow from the contact. The car went a little out of lane when you squeezed him and rubbed the outline of his length, making him hiss before quickly correcting the wheel.

“You want us to crash? Because that’s how you get a crash,” he warned, right hand holding your guilty wrist captive. You huffed but sat back to your seat in favor of road safety. It didn’t mean you couldn’t have your own fun, though. You sneaked a hand under your skirt, moaning softly as you rubbed yourself through the fabric of your panties.

“Babe.” His tone of voice was an order despite not actually saying anything. You decided to push his limits though, moaning a high pitched “Baby?” back at him. You smirked to find his jaw clenched hard, but your heart almost dropped when you saw the mall nearing, not expecting the trip to feel so short. You held your breath as he parked the car, wordlessly clicking your seatbelt off. You were surprised at how aggressively he pulled the handbrake up and pushed his seat as far back as he could, staring at him with wide eyes as he tapped his fingers on his lap.

“Come here,” he said in a low voice, the sound shooting straight to your core. You obeyed easily, struggling to straddle him in the cramped space.

“What happened to not wanting me sore?” you accused with a raised eyebrow.

“Fuck that, I’ll just kiss your pussy better tomorrow.” You giggled as he caught your lips in a rushed, frantic kiss, humping your clothed desires against each other.

“Does this count as ‘against the windows?’” you breathed out the question when the kiss broke off. He only gave you a confused look before he sneaked his hand underneath your blouse, kneading at your breasts from the cups of your bra. “He must have forgotten already,” you thought as you mewled from his rough touch. It was his checklist of promises: the bedroom, couch, showers, guest room, kitchen, and even against the windows. 

Your breath hitched when you felt his fingers shadowing on your clothed heat, aching to have him push your underwear to the side and take you then and there. Instead, he pressed a thumb to your clit quite harshly, taking you by surprise and making you retreat from the stimulation, and you both jumped as you accidentally backed into the steering wheel and a prolonged honk left the car.

“Shit,” he whispered, eyes widening to find a security guard in the vicinity walking towards your direction. The windows were tinted, but someone could still see what’s going on through the windshield if they came close enough. He helped lift you back up to your seat, and you fixed yourself up for any possible encounter. You both breathed a sigh of relief when he walked past you, but there was no way you were finishing what you started in there, so he turned off the engine and practically pulled you by the hand into the mall, muttering about “having you in the nearest shop with a changing room.”

Lady Luck was on his side as you found the perfect black dress with a sweetheart neckline in the second shop you entered. You gushed about how great it would look with the necklace he gave you, but Jeno was barely responsive as his one track mind had him pulling you to the back of the store, entering the section with a row of changing cubicles and rushing you into the nearest one to have his way with you, unsuccessfully muffling your sounds with his hand.

Three timid knocks rapped on the door once you finished the deed, accompanied by an equally timid voice. “Um, ma’am? You left it on the hanger… that dress you wanted for fitting?” You felt the blood drain from your face as you stared at your equally shocked boyfriend. 

You will never be able to show face in that dress shop again.

Those were the series of events that led you to right now: your moment of truth.

You put your hair down after the dress shop incident, electing to play it safe throughout the remainder of your time in public. Once you got home, however, you tied it back up again. It was unconscious, as the sun outside was glaring bright and the AC in the house hadn’t been turned on yet. You walked into the kitchen for a cold glass of water, but you were lifted onto one of the counters by a whiny, very apologetic looking boyfriend. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me today, baby… I think I’ve gotten too addicted to you,” he nosed at the crook of your neck, pressing his body on yours to let you know of the returned presence of his stiff need. You chuckled at his naivety, but the guilt crept up on you until you let everything spill out.

You, him, chocolates, scrunchies, and classical conditioning. 

Conveniently, you left out the part about the bet and your best friend being privy to all of it, and it was probably for the best because Jeno’s gaze was now hard and serious, his features stoic as his eyes bore into yours. Your heart was knocking hard on your ribcage, not because you were scared he might hurt you, but because you knew this look. You’ve only seen it a few times before, but the events that followed left you covered in bites, scratches, and bruises, his name seared into your throat and memory.

“You remember your colors?” You nodded slowly. He was talking about the safe word system you had agreed on for the rare moments this side of him slid out, the side of him you hadn’t seen in a while but still managed to make your heart race and your desire swell.

“Bedroom,” he muttered, head cocking to its direction, “and be undressed when I get there.”

You were swiftly on your feet, half-excited and half-nervous steps in beat with the thumping in your chest. Entering the room, you didn’t bother to close the door behind you, shedding off your clothes and folding them into a neat stack by the foot of the bed. You climbed up the mattress, sitting in the middle with your legs bent up to cover your chest, your chin resting on your knees as you stared at the open doorway, waiting.

Your punishment came walking in, and your breathing was stunted to find that he was already naked as you were. He had placed something on the bedside table, but you paid little attention as your eyes placed all focus on his angry, stiff cock jutted out in front of him. He stood back a few feet away from the bed before beckoning you over, and you slid down from the mattress onto your knees in front of him. He clutched your chin softly in one hand, stroking at your skin as he looked deep into your eyes.

“Sneaky little whore,” he spit out the words in a sneer, and his hand shoved his hold on you to the right only to clutch you right back. “And here I was thinking it was me who turned into some dirty freak, but it was you all along, hmm?” He stepped closer to your space, his hardness right in front of you. “My pretty slut always wants a hard cock ready to shove into her whenever she needs, hmm? Is that why you went this far?” You were stuck in a daze, staring at the rivulet of clear liquid that was beading at his tip until a slap to your cheek brought you back to your senses. “Answer me!” 

“Yes!” you cried, your eyes glistening along with your core, the stinging sensation bringing you more pleasure than you’d care to admit. 

He pouted teasingly at your pitiful expression, closing in the distance between your face and his tip. “Aww, poor baby. Do you want my hard cock now, too?” He slid it on the plane of your soft skin, smearing a line of precum on your cheek, your mouth opening by instinct to receive him. Instead, he pulled his cock back and slapped you with it before kneeling down to your level.

“You’re not getting it,” he whispered. “Not until you’re crying and begging me to slow down because your sweet little pussy can’t take any more, and once the sheets are soaked and you can’t feel your legs, that’s when I’ll finally fuck you dumb on my cock.” He said everything with a sweet smile on his eyes and lips, your mind collapsing in on itself as it battled between his innocent look and his filthy promises. “You’re gonna take all of it, aren’t you? You greedy fucking nympho.” You nodded, and his fingers carded into your hair before pulling on it hard. “That’s not a fucking answer.”

“Yes! G-give it to me, please.”

He released his hold on you, walking over to the bedside to pick up what he brought in earlier. Soon, he was back in front of you, holding a white device in his hands. “Do you know what this is?” You almost nodded before catching yourself, answering with a meek “yes.” It was a hitachi wand. “This was supposed to be a gift, but you decided to act like the cockslut you are, so now it’s your punishment.” 

You only managed to look up at him with wide eyes, the urge to rub your thighs together so strong but you didn’t dare, not while he was in this mood.

He was gentle with you again as he helped you up and walked you over to the bed. “Face down, ass up.” You did as you were told, climbing near the foot of the mattress, with only your rear raised up. “Spread your legs.” You heard the wand hum alive as you obliged, and you had to bite on your tongue to keep a moan from escaping. 

You lurched forward when he pressed the bulbous head of the toy onto your clit, but you were stopped by his arm hooking to your thigh. Moans and swears burst from you immediately, the vibrations strong and steady and pressed so hard against you. “I want you to count.” You barely registered Jeno’s voice in the midst of your pleasure. 

“Ahh!” you screamed out as his palm landed sharply on your ass. 

“I said count, you dumb slut.” His reprimand came with another stinging hit.

“T-two!” He began rubbing the wand into your folds, sloppy with your slick all over, and then another smack. “Three!” He pushed it back up to your engorged clit, setting the speed higher. “Fuckfuckfuck!” Your curses spilled in time with the spanking, and you received it three times over for missing count, crying fat tears as the spot grew red and throbbed with heat. 

He rubbed soothingly on the pained spot before detaching the toy from you and flipping you over to your back. He pushed you upwards on the bed, lying down on his chest before your wet core, spreading your thigh open with one hand and pressing the vibrator back on your clit with the other. You began rolling your hips, splitting your pussy lips apart on the head of the toy, your screams of pleasure filling the air.

“Is my whore about to cum?”

“Yes! Fuck yes! Gonna cum,” you dragged on the last word, your orgasm hitting you just then. Your thighs clamped shut around his arm that held the toy between them, and your lower body shook and lurched off the mattress, Jeno grazing the nails of his other hand around the skin of your abdomen. You’ve hardly come down from the high before your whole body was surging upwards again, the vibrations never ceasing in your heightened sensitivity.

“Fuck, shit, no! Stop!” His hand pressed down on your tummy as you tried to squirm away from him.

“Do I have to tie you down?” 

“Ahh, fuck, please! No!”

Your second orgasm washed over you, still riding on the coattails of your previous one, and your bent legs started bouncing involuntarily on your heels, your toes curling in at the added sensation of Jeno’s nails drawing lines on your skin.

You gasped for air when the vibrations ceased and Jeno threw the toy on the space beside you. He pulled your thighs in closer to him, and your break is short lived as he shoved three fingers into you at once, splitting your walls open.

“Gonna fuck you up, gonna absolutely fucking ruin you,” he promised, kicking off with a cruel speed, met with resistance from your tightness. “How are you supposed to take my cock like this? Your pathetic little pussy can’t even handle my fingers.”

You felt him slow down, and you mewled in protest. “N-no! Hah, ah, please! My pussy loves your fingers. Love it when your fingers fuck me loose. Don’t stop, please! Don’t stop.” He curled the digits upwards and wiggled them inside you, scratching at your sweet spot. 

“Fuck! Fuck! It’s here! Oh my god.” Your legs wrapped around his neck as you felt your third orgasm physically leave your body, the head you trapped between the crown of your thighs grunting below you, his nails lightly tracing on your skin again.

“You little cockslut,” he growled, “covering me in your dirty cum.” You yelped when he took his fingers out from you to land a firm slap on your clit, and your hips bucked into him as he began lapping up your juices. His tongue swirled around your oversensitive clit, and you couldn’t stop your hand from reaching down and pulling at his hair. Just for that, he let his teeth graze on your sensitive bud and you quickly retracted your touch at the warning.

His tongue is joined by his fingers again, fucking into you at a ruthless speed, the squelching sounds of your heat so loud in the mix of your moans and screams. Your hands pulled at your own scalp as your fourth orgasm knocked over, trying to focus on any sensation other than the uncontrollable, deliciously painful contractions of your pussy, the pain on your scalp not nearly enough for the task, Jeno’s fingernails on the inside of your thigh only making you tremble even more.

He allowed you a sliver of mercy, letting you catch your breath on the bed as he sat back, jerking himself to your body looking spent and ruined. After some minutes he picked you up in his arms and walked over to the far side of the room. He set you down on your feet as he yanked the curtains to one side, revealing the tall glass doors that led to the veranda on one side of the house, the side adjacent to the neighbors.

“This counts as ‘against the windows.’” He propped your arms up on the glass, your hard nipples rubbing against the cold surface, ragged breaths making a pulsing puff of white steam before your face and blocking the scene outside from your view, your skin tingling at the possibility of a stranger seeing you so fucked out and still about to get fucked some more.

You shuddered when Jeno rubbed his tip between your swollen lips. “Think you deserve my cock now, hmm?” Your body was screaming at you for a breather, but you wanted to please your man, wanted him to cum from the feeling of your abused wet pussy, so you answered by bucking your hips back into him.

He slipped inside you without any resistance now, your walls slick, velvety, and warm around him. He’s been roaring to go since you tied your damn hair up, and he wasn’t planning on taking it slow now, fucking into you hard and fast.

Your moans were weak and broken as he chased his own high from within you, and you didn’t have the strength left for any more screams when his hand reached to your clit to rub you near the edge once more. Your legs buckled repeatedly that if it weren’t for the glass, you wouldn’t have been able to take this fucking while standing.

You felt Jeno’s warm panting breaths against your ear, a moan slipping out of him every now and then. His hard dominating persona was slipping off as the pleasure caught up with him, kissing and licking at your neck. “Just one more baby. Cum one more time with me, can you do that?” You didn’t answer, your vision swimming before you. “Baby? What’s the color?”

You struggled to keep your eyes open as you rasped out, “Green.” With that, he flipped you around to face him, lifting you up with your back against the glass and wrapping your legs around him as he slotted himself back into you, going fast trying to drive you both off the edge.

“My baby’s gonna cum, right? My good girl’s gonna cum for me?” You felt his cock begin to twitch inside of you, and you pressed kisses on the tip of his nose.

“Wanna cum,” you whimpered, “gonna cum on daddy.”

His eyes squeezed shut at the slip of that word. He’s never heard you use it on him before, and fuck did it have an effect on him, his orgasm crashing down on him strong, the feeling of his hot cum shooting into you pushing you off the edge as well.

His legs grew weaker as he emptied his load in you, slowly sinking to his knees with you still wrapped around him. You stayed like that for god knows how long, your arms and legs around him, body exhausted and molded onto his like putty, his softening cock nestled in the mess he made between your thighs.

Once he felt strong enough, Jeno carried you back to the bed, just sitting on the edge as he cradled you in his arms, bouncing you softly on his lap as he waited for you to shift back to your senses, your head resting on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing that came out of your lips once you found your breath. 

“Baby…” He shifted your bodies around, laying you down side by side facing each other. “It’s okay. I’m not angry at you.” He stroked your hair, smiling. “Well, just a little miffed. Now I finally understand why I’ve been having such a hard time recently.” You had to crack your own smile at the pun, breathing little laughs of appreciation. “Seriously! I thought something was wrong with me. I was considering a doctor’s appointment.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled again, although this time with the smile still painted on your face.

“There’s no need to apologize,” he insisted. “It’s actually kinda funny now that I know what’s been going on.” You only hummed in response, your eyes fluttering closed.

“Hey. Baby. You sleepy? It’s only four o’clock.” Jeno nudged gently at your cheek.

Your eyes remained closed as you answered, “You just fucked me boneless. I think I deserve a nap.”

“We have,” he peeked at the digital clock on the table behind you, “three hours and then I’m waking you up. It’s still our anniversary and I’m still taking you to dinner.”

“I said you just fucked me boneless. I don’t have the legs to go for dinner,” you whined.

“Don’t worry, I can always carry you on my back like a sack of potatoes.”

“Romantic.”

“Of course, it’s what you deserve.” He chuckled as he watched your lips part slightly, your breathing evening out as you drifted to sleep. “Happy three years, baby.”

You did, in fact, end up missing dinner. Jeno overestimated his own ability to overpower his love for sleep, and you ended up cuddling deep into the night, waking up in the dead silence of 1:00 a.m. and just going for another two rounds as there was nothing else to do. No one complained, though.

Hair up or hair down, Jeno was whipped either way when he woke up before you, the sunlight piercing through the curtains he forgot to draw back and landing on your face, making you look even more ethereal to him as you slept.

Seeing you first thing in the morning stirred a familiar riot in his chest, solidifying his dream, his ambition to have each day start out like this: with your peaceful, beautiful face before him. He had to tear his gaze away from you before his desires could escalate and stir a different kind of riot. He didn’t take it easy with you yesterday-last-night-this-morning, and he knew you were probably still aching and sore all over, so he was trying to think of all the unsexy thoughts to kill his oncoming boner. 

“Cute puppies. My little pony. Lee Donghyuck. Apoptosis or the death of the cell is characterized by its shrinkage, nuclear condensation, membrane—”

The mechanical chant in his head was disrupted by the feeling of your fingers smoothing his scrunched eyebrows. “You’re gonna give yourself wrinkles,” you greeted him, eyes only half open, smile beginning from one corner of your lip and slowly stretching out to the other.

Yeah. Jeno was completely, utterly whipped.

“Good morning,” he whispered, although the blinking digits told him it was already half past noon. “Come on, let’s eat.” He shook your shoulders gently just as your eyes began to close again, and you whined.

“Don’t wanna get up yet,” you complained. He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he got up, deciding to cook something up and just bring it to you in bed. He was contemplating whether he needed to put clothes back on his nude self, and his answer came in the form of the doorbell buzzing.

He went out once fully dressed and opened the door to the guy who was just below My Little Pony on his boner killer scale.

“Donghyuck.”

“Jeno.”

The blonde stepped aside, allowing Donghyuck to come in with his hands full of… stuff.

“I see you’re still sporting the Chester McBadbat do,” Donghyuck commented, eyeing Jeno’s hair.

“I’ve no idea who that is, but I see you’re still unhinged as ever,” Jeno answered, gaze flitting between an impossible bag of marshmallows and a bouquet of assorted flowers.

“Babe?” Your voice floated through the hallway.

“Yeah?” Jeno replied.

“Yes, baby!” Donghyuck replied as well, but in a voice louder and more alive than Jeno’s, making the latter roll his eyes to the back of his head.

“Oh my god, Hyuckie!” Your footsteps tip-tapped on the wooden floor as you ran out to the receiving area and enveloped your best friend in a tight hug, making him drop the marshmallows but cling tight to the flowers.

“‘Don’t wanna get up’ my ass,” Jeno thought.

Donghyuck gave you a once over before saying, “Smells like orchids today.” Jeno looked at his bunch of flowers. Not a single orchid there, but he didn’t comment. He never did understand Donghyuck’s thing with flowers.

You snatched the flowers and marshmallows from him, giddy as you hopped away to the kitchen, both boys in tow behind you.

Three bowls of marbits, three glasses of orange juice, and the flowers watered in a new vase lay on the table you sat around.

“So, I’ve been thinking of growing my hair out. Whatchu think?” Hyuck asked. You were about to answer, but noticed he was looking at Jeno. Your boyfriend just shrugged in answer. “I think I will,” he continued as Jeno drank his orange juice. “Renjun said I’d look good with my hair tied up.” 

It was a few seconds of sputtering orange liquid and hacking coughs that ended with you rubbing soothingly on Jeno’s back while he stared blankly at an empty wall, your eyes glaring at Donghyuck’s direction.

“What! What’d I say?” He protested, a smirk on his lips. “Wait, I just noticed. Orange juice?”