#so i try to do at least $1-2 a mile

[fudgecake-charlie]

"They think I’m the least dangerous person in this car, do they? Well, they’re about to learn very differently."

Decided to redraw a moment from On the Getaway Mile by Odaigahara on AO3/ @droidofmay !

This may have taken a ridiculous amount of hours condensed into a few days and I went through it drawing cars and car interiors, but this was an absolute blast to do :D I hope I've done the fic sort of justice.

Process shots and long comparison rambles under the cut!

Welcome to my secret lair!!

I spent roughly... 18 hours working on this, the majority during this week and over the past three days, so I need to share my toils with people <3

Character/car references and page thumbnails! Featuring an incorrect scene placement and bad camera position. I reread the scene and placed it properly in the actual page. I hate drawing cars!! I was actually the most worried about panel placement when I started this— I was a guy who only did non narrative/illustrative panel pages and layout-less comics, but it wasn't that bad with a script! I could separate beats into panels, note which panels should be emphasised/larger, and assembled that into a page.

If you compare the fic with this comic, you can see how much dialogue I edited and moments I cut out. I couldn't fit it all on without having to draw even more pages, I wish I could though! Poor Mumbo only gets one line here. I'm so sorry my darling man <3 I also gave him a slight cyborg design because his implants are really important for his character and I needed some way to visually show that, even if it's not canon/mentioned.

The colouring method for this was really fun! It's similar to my aggie rainbow painting method but with less steps, hence narrow value range. It looks pretty and gets the vibe across well though.

Rapid fire points!

I was planning to do 3 different fic comics! Not anymore!!!

This is absolutely for the hotguy comic zine applications. <3 "Can I try rizzing you up // PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE" /ref

I drew page 2 first, then 3, then 1. I think you can tell!

Mumbo is sitting on the wrong side and should have his seatbelt on. He's also not carrying the stolen laptop as described.

It's explicitly noted that Mumbo cannot scan Grian like he can with Scar. Whoops!

Transmissions from the Foundation are via Mumbo and Scar's implants, but I couldn't think of a good way to portray that.

Despite guns and weapons being mentioned, I somehow didn't get the opportunity to draw a single one.

I love hand lettering. I also hate it! I will continue to do it.

Here are the no colour pages as a thank you for scrolling <3

[spyder-junkie]

I just cant stop thinking of Earth-42! miles with a reader that falls for prowler first.

(had to rewrite this post because it didnt save the first time *frustration*)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

EARTH-42 MILES MORALES X Reader

I imagine you’ve snuck out, leaving your apartment in the middle of the night unbeknownst to your parents.

Youre walking down to your house under the cover of darkness when quickly you notice your being followed.

You curse silently.

The man behind you is much bigger than you are, and youre not sure you could fight him off if it came to it.

You start taking random turns, leading the man away from your apartment building, but as you being to pass an alley way, he grabs you, ducking you in.

He has you against a wall, his forearm holding your neck to the bricks.

“Youre real beautiful, do me a favor and keep quiet.” You flinch as his voice, hands shaking as your eyes begin to water.

Then suddenly theres a ‘whoosh’ and the man falls to the ground, dead.

You look up to your rescuer, and its the prowler, a well know criminal in the area.

Your heart beats in your ears as he begins to walk away, boots clanking down the sidewalk.

You run after him.

“Thank you!” You say, jogging to keep up with his strides.

“You really saved my ass.”

“It’s dangerous out at night.” He huffs, voiced warbled by the mask. You let out a little chuckle.

“Yeah…” You stop walking.

“Could you walk me home? please?”

The prowler stops walking, most likely contemplating what he should do. Then he lets out another sigh.

“You owe me.” He states firmly, turnning around to face you.

You smile, carefully wrapping your hand around two if his clawed, gloved fingers and leading him in the opposite direction.

The walk was almost silent, you taking occasional glances at the villian by your side. You noticed he had two thick braids that cascaded down his neck.

What you didnt notice was the glances he spared at you.

When the two if you reached your apartment, he watched as you climbed the fire escape to your window. You open it, climbing inside. Then you pole your head back out, mouthing a ‘thank you!’ and waving down at the prowler.

you wait expectantly for him to wave back, smiling once he finally does.

Then he disappears.

You didnt know if you would ever see the masked villian again.

So imagine your surprise two weeks later when theres a knock at your window.

It was around 8pm, you were working on a school assignment when the sound of metal tapping glass hit your ears.

You turn in your spinning chair, eyes widened at the sight of prowler crouched in your window.

You rush to unlock it, pullibg up the glass pane and letting the night air in.

“Missed me?” You ask, trying to mask the shaking in your voice.

“Do you have a digital alarm clock?” He asks, ignoring your question all together.

You think for a moment.

“I might have my old one in my closet.” You say, not giving him a chance to reply before you turned on your heel.

You expected him to follow you, but he didnt, staying perched in the window and looking around your bedroom from the outside.

He waited as you rummaged through your things.

Then suddenly you emerged, holding an alarm clock, the cord trailing behind you.

What do you need it for?” you ask.

“Mechanical parts.” was his vauge reply.

, you hand it to him.

He held it in one of his clawed hands, getting ready to depart. That was until you crossed your arms and loudly cleared your throat.

He looked at you.

“Thank you?” You raise an eyebrow.

“……..Thanks.” He mumbles, just before jumping off the fire escape and disappearing again.

The next time you see him is well over a month later.

Its a little past 3am, and you’re well into needed sleep.

Then theres another knock at you window.

A bunch of knocks actually. You hear the metal tapping sound until you rise from your bed, annoyed to say the least.

When you see Prowler at your window once again, you pick up the pace moving to the window to open it.

This time, as soon as you life the pane, he steps in.

Or he tries to, he trips, his body hitting the ground softly next to your bed.

“Woah- are you alright…” You ask, panicked.

He doesn’t answer.

“Prowler….?” You ask, closing the window.

Still no answer.

“pleasedontbedeadpleasedontbedeadpleasedontbedead…” You press your ear to his metal chest, bending down to his laying position.

Hes breathing.

You sigh in relief.

You sit and think for a moment before carefully sitting him up.

You try your best to remove all the parts of his suit, placing them in a neat pile in your closet as you go.

You realize theres a flesh wound on the side of his ribs, and a couple cuts and bruises elsewhere.

After immense debate, you hesitantly press the button on his mask, letting it move to the side to reveal his face.

Hes…handsome, you realize, and much younger than you imagined. There was a cut on his face and a bruise by his hairline, there was a bit of bleeding in his scalp, you assumed thats what caused him to pass out.

You tiptoe to the bathroom, grabbing a first aid kit and begining to clean him up with a warm rag and bandages.

You even unbraid his hair, dressing the wound in his scalp and braiding it back in a way that wouldn’t irritate the healing.

He doesnt stir in the slightest, seemingly a heavy sleeper.

After you’re finished, you carefully move him to your bed, and cuddle up beside him. You get close, but dont touch him, then slowly you drift off to sleep.

When Miles wakes up, his initial response is panic. He begins to look around, trying to pinpoint where he is.

He flinches as he lifts his arm to rub the sleep from his eyes.

“Good morning.” You say, emerging from the bathroom dressed for school the day.

He watches as you begin to do your hair in the mirror.

“G’mornin.” He mumbles, still watching you.

“How are you feeling?” You ask. He looks down, analyzing how you dressed his wounds.

“Im fine. Sore. You aint do too bad here.” He says. Now you can really hear his accent without the mask.

“Good. Good… you scared me yknow, I was worried.” You mumble.

Miles furrows his eyes, but he keeps quiet.

He watches as you grab you bookbag and your keys.

“Your suit is in my closet. I set out clean towels in my bathroom if you want to shower. My dad is gone for the day, you can make yourself something to eat if you’d like. Leave whenever you want, just please close my window when you go.” You say, hand on the doorframe.

“Okay………..….thank you.” he mumbles, still staring hard at you.

“You’re welcomeee…..” You leave the sentence open.

“…..Miles.” He says softly.

“Miles.” You repeat.

“Get some rest.” You say, opening the door.

“And dont be a stranger.”

His gaze lingers on the doorway even long after you’ve left.

And when you come home, Miles is gone.

The towels are in the hamper, his suit is gone from the closet, your bed is made, and the window is closed, its like he was never there at all.

But then sitting on your desk, theres $300 cash and a small note.

“Thanks again, Hermosa……-Miles”

[hellfirenacht]

Anomaly Part 3

Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who’s not named Eddie Munson.

Tags: Anxious-ish!Reader but not shy, one sided pining, no use of y/n, fem!reader, one sided enemies to lovers, fem!reader

2.4k Words

Part 1, Part 2, Master List

Miles Cooper was still at school the following week, which meant that he was given no consequences for what had happened to you or for blaming Eddie. 

Eddie couldn’t even say he was surprised by this point. If Eddie really had been the one to trip you up, he was sure he’d get suspended or even expelled. It was so close to the end of the year and he could feel that Higgins was looking for any reason to keep him from walking across that stage to get his diploma. 

You hadn’t shown up on Monday. Not that it mattered to Eddie either way, you two didn’t even know each other. But you had cleared his name. That was the thought that kept buzzing around his brain like a mosquito that he just couldn’t swat. Despite the glares and the snide remarks, you had gone out of your way to make sure that he didn’t get in trouble for something he didn’t do, which is more than what he could say for a lot of people at this school.

He had to give you credit for that at least. Not many people outside of his small friend circle would stick up for him like that. 

With work and band practice, it was easy to forget about you until Wednesday when you showed up to English class with a thick white cast around your wrist and arm. Shit, your fall really had done a number on you. You were struggling with juggling your books and they fell off your desk with a clatter, and you thanked the girl next to you for helping you pick them up. 

Eddie would like to think he was above eavesdropping and gossip, but he’d be wrong. 

“What happened?” The girl- Sarah- asked. 

“I face planted on the bleachers at the pep rally.” you said, taking your seat again. “One minute I was trying to get down, and the next I’m getting elbowed and my arm hurt.” 

“I heard someone pushed you” 

Eddie heard that emphasis on someone and gripped his pencil, hearing the subtle sound of wood splintering against his thumb. This was not the time to make a scene. 

“No one pushed me. Miles elbowed me and I fell.” you said firmly. 

You were still defending him, Eddie wasn’t sure how to feel. 

“If you’re gonna spread rumors, could you do me a favor and make it sound more interesting?” You continued, “Like, start telling people that I dived off the bleachers to distract everyone that Miles shit himself.”

Eddie snorted loudly before he could stop himself. He slammed his hand pencil down on the table and covered his mouth. Dammit, why did you have to be funny?

Sarah laughed, much less obnoxiously and agreed before asking to sign your cast. You must be covered in signatures now, as you seemed to be friends with everyone. 

Everyone except him. 

Not that it mattered. 

It was nice and all that you saved him from getting in trouble, but it’s not like you two were ever going to be friends, no matter how funny you were. 

Class started and Eddie spent the rest of class doodling and barely paying attention to the teacher. This was usually how his school days went. Yeah, he had been trying harder in the past two years to graduate and pass his classes but some days his brain just refused to focus on anything important. 

The bell rang and Eddie took his sweet time getting his things together. Next period was his favorite- lunch. 

“Shit.” He heard you mumble as you tried to wrangle your books with one arm. He knew there was a rule about not being allowed to carry around a backpack but, shit, Eddie would have thought you’d get some help. Shouldn’t one of those many signatures be offering to carry your books? 

Obviously not, as you finally managed to tuck your notebook under your arm. You looked flustered, and hot in the face. Your brows were furrowed in concentration and you finally let out a loud groan as your papers went flying everywhere as students for the next class started coming in. 

It was pathetic, and Eddie couldn’t exactly leave you stranded. You cleared his name, so at least he could try and help you out right now. Maybe he’d even figure out what your problem with him was. 

“Here.” Eddie said and grabbed the papers closest to him and picked up your binder before you could stop him. 

Normally when Eddie looked at you, you’d turn your nose up at him and look away. This time, he found himself giving you direct eye contact. Your eyes were wide with surprise that he had stepped in to help, followed by more frustration. 

“Thanks.” you said shortly. 

“Need help getting to the lunch room?” Eddie asked. He’d wait for you to say no, to tell him to get out of your face, and he can walk away with a clear conscience that at least he tried. 

You were staring at him as if he were some sort of alien who had just asked you why the sky wasn’t orange. Yeah ok, he could take the hint. 

“Yes.” 

The word sounded choked out, as if the single syllable was a struggle to say. But you had said it, and Eddie was a man of his word, even though he hadn’t promised you anything. 

Eddie stacked your notebook and binder on top of his. You were still staring at him as if you couldn’t believe he was talking to you. Eddie couldn’t really believe it himself. 

He’d do this small favor for you as a thanks, and then you two could go back to ignoring each other. 

“Lead the way.” He said, offering up his best impression of his dad’s smile. If he was lucky (which Eddie never was) then maybe some of his dad’s Munson Magic might rub off on him enough so that you’d at least relax a little. 

You only nodded and led him out of the classroom. 

You didn’t like the cast and it’s off-putting stark white bandages. You wanted to choose a different color- maybe red or black or even that weird obnoxious toxic green that was offered to you. But your mom decided that white would be better because it would make it easier to sign, so white it was. 

Your parents at least took pity on you Monday, letting you stay home to wallow in embarrassment that you had broken your wrist and fractured your arm in front of all of your classmates. Tuesday they released you back to school, but you had instead skipped getting on the bus (because you could not drive one-handed) and played hooky at the local library. It’s not like anyone would care that someone your age was skipping school. 

Wednesday came, and you forced yourself onto the bus, the first time you had used it since moving to Hawkins. The ride was bumpy and long, and your walkman ran out of batteries halfway to school. 

It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. A few people came up and signed your cast, some asking what happened. You just told them the same thing, that Miles elbowed you and you fell. It wasn’t as exciting as the idea of the school Freak attacking you, but you weren’t about to get Eddie involved in something that he had nothing to do with. You were just going to ignore the fact that Eddie had been the reason you were heading in that direction anyway. 

English class rolled around, and you spent most of it poking the inside of your cast with your pencil, trying to scratch an itch that just wouldn’t go away. It was bad enough that you had fucked up your dominant arm, but this was actually Hell. 

When the bell rang, everyone else seemed to be in a huge rush to get out of the classroom. Everyone but Eddie. Obviously. Because of course the one person you were trying to avoid was now slinking around you. 

Your long weekend, you had done your best to try and not think about him. You could handle falling in front of everyone else in school, but with Eddie it was different. Your stomach twisted as you remembered how he had yelled as you fell next to him and how he had looked at you as you had ignored your stinging arm as you ran out of the gym to clear his name. 

It was bad enough he had heard you make a poor joke out of context, you weren’t going to throw him under the bus either. 

“Need help getting to the lunch room?”

Your face was already hot with the embarrassment of not being able to carry your own books. Your backpack had ripped the second you got off the bus, and you lost your math homework to a puddle. You hated that he was still here to begin with, was breaking your wrist already not enough pain and suffering? 

You were staring at him. Fuck- dammit- shit say something back-

“Yes.” 

The word almost got stuck in your throat. The only reason it came out was that as painful and embarrassing as this moment was, what Stacy would do to you if she found out you said no would be far worse. 

Eddie dropped your books on top of his, and gave you a smile that looked so forced that you couldn’t stand to look at him. Was this being done just out of pity? You’d run for the hills if he wasn’t holding you binder hostage. 

You led him through the hallway, and towards your locker. “I need to put some things up.” you said, and he followed you. 

The hallway was already mostly clear, and so no one seemed to pay you much mind. You weren’t sure what the rumor mill would churn out with Eddie carrying your books, but did it even matter? Two more months and you’d be out of this school and none of these people would matter. 

No one except the young man following behind you. 

Eddie dutifully held your books as you put them away. The door to your locker stopped you from seeing his face, which seemed like the perfect time to take the foot out of your mouth that had been there since the pep rally. 

“...I’m... uh... I’m sorry for what I said on Friday.” you started, pretending to rifle through a folder. “About you being in a cult. It was a stupid joke and I shouldn’t have said it.”

Eddie was quiet for a moment, and you felt your whole body tense up as you waited for him to say anything. 

“Yeah we uh.. We aren’t big on sacrificing in Hellfire.” he said carefully. “Had to stop that with the club budget cuts.” 

You had to bite the inside of your cheek and close your eyes tight to keep from laughing. You covered it up with a cough. “Yeah uh... sounds like that’d be a lot of paperwork.” 

You took a slow and deep breath before closing your locker to look at him. He was smiling at you, a far less forced one than before. It was almost the same smile he gave his friends when he didn’t know you were looking. 

It wasn’t much, but it didn’t stop the butterflies from exploding in your chest. You should see a doctor about that. 

“Oh yeah, tons.” Eddie said. “And with all the letters we get about our club being associated with the Devil it was just a bureaucratic headache.”

I know that if I could just talk to him one then I’d be fine. You had told yourself that every single day since these pesky little feelings emerged. Maybe you had been right. The two of you made your way to the cafeteria. 

“You’re just some nerds playing with dice.” you said, and realize that could be taken the wrong way. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’ve also... played board games.” 

God you were acting like a total airhead. Board games? Really? You were acting like your brain was broken rather than your wrist. 

You felt Eddie’s eyes on you, and saw how he also looked unsure about your answer. Whatever was going through his head, he brushed aside. 

“I should also thank you for clearing my name.” he said, changing the subject. “You came running out of the gym and saved my ass.” 

“I wasn’t going to let someone get in trouble just because I fell!” It was the most assured thing you had ever said to Eddie.

“Well, either way I’d say you’re my hero.” Eddie said. “I’m pretty sure if you hadn’t come running to my rescue I’d probably be expelled by now, and then who would be around to corrupt the youth of Hawkins?” 

Hero. Eddie called you his hero. You felt your body buzzing with an energy that you were not in a place to use. 

You two were in the cafeteria now, and you led Eddie over to where Stacy was sitting. Stacy, being the queen of subtlety that she was, was openly gawking at the sight of the two of you together. 

She was giving you a look, and that look said that the second that Eddie was out of earshot you would be giving her a play by play of every single second of this interaction. 

Eddie dropped your books on the table by Stacy.

“Hi, Eddie!” she said in a perky voice. You wanted to kick her, and shot her a warning look which she ignored. “Will you be dining with us today?” 

You wanted to rip your hair out. 

“As much as I would love to spend my lunch period with you two ladies, I’m afraid my freshmen wouldn’t survive out there in the wild without me.” Eddie gave a dramatic bow. 

“Thank you. For helping me.” you said stiffly. Being on the receiving end of Eddie’s theatrics was making your brain blow a fuse. 

Eddie gave you a nod and sauntered off to his usual table where he was immediately hounded by his friends for being seen with you. You wondered what they were thinking. Did you look weird next to Eddie? Were they judging you for not being part of their group?

“Stop drooling.” Stacy said. “Talk.”

I have never broken a bone and have done minimal googling.

Also these chapters are getting longer dammit. This is supposed to be the easy stuff to wright UGH. Also tell me if there's something you wanna see with this, because I'm winging it like I do with all my writing lol

Tag List: @eddiemunsonfuxks @kirsteng42 @strangereads @pedroschka @generoustrashpeach

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @cyanfairywren @crocworkships @tomtomslongdong @aphrogeneias

@ghcstpyre @totheforestandtheocean @stevekeeryswife @dreamyyy222222 @ajnerdess

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@2spock @c14r3v1b3srs @yujyujj @saramelaniemoon @morganlolitta

@veemoon @mrsrdlw @eddieheart @bambibiest @mylovelycrazyworld

@sassidykassidy @cultish-corner @thedoubleexposurephotography @bambibiest @wheels-of-despair

[sscieloz]

Live my life

band!aespa x groupie!reader

Synopsis: It’s been less than a year since the band Aespa was created. Karina, Minjeong, Giselle and Ningning travel all over the country with nothing but a few gigs, little money and much love for the music. They’re far from superstars, and they still don’t have a lot to offer, and there’s something they can’t quite grasp: why you, the band’s most faithful fan, follows them blindly.

Warnings: smut. lowk confusing… but it’s the aesthetic

Word count: 9.9k

Notes: I HAVE RETURNED FROM THE DEAD 😤😤 I was obsessed w the MV as soon as it was out so I wrote this work!! it ended up being too long (lol) so i decided to split it in 2. I SHALL NAWT VANISH ANYMORE PINKY PROMISE.

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4

—

“Do you think it’ll fit?” Ningning’s hesitation is easily explained by the amount of suitcases hanging from the small hood of the car. The four girls agreed to bring each a single backpack of clothes for themselves, so the instruments and sound equipment could also be transported.

Clearly, it was still too much.

“It has to.” Winter answers, her tiny frame reaching up as she tries to grab one of the big suitcases herself. With Ningning’s help, she manages to do it, and they both stare at the car, wondering about an adjustment that would work.

Just as both girls imagined how to rearrange the space, Giselle and Karina stepped down the house's stairs, frowning.

Karina, is, as always, not amused by the struggle placed in front of her, but Giselle scoffs, judging her bandmates for not having things ready yet. They were supposed to pack their stuff in the car while she and Karina prepared their snacks and made sure all the windows and doors were closed, so they’d find no surprises once they got back home from their trip. Now, they’d leave later than expected, which would result in them facing the road at night— which was exactly what they were avoiding.

This day was starting to piss her off.

“What are you doing?” Giselle crossed her arms against her chest, trying her best to not sound as irritated as she was. They all knew, though. The girls know each other too well.

“Playing Tetris.” Minjeong stared back at her, with a tone that was just as presumptuous. “What does it look like we’re doing, Gigi? The space is obviously too fucking small for all of our stuff.”

Karina takes a step further before Giselle is able to open her mouth and give her friend a petty response. Her clumsy hands rearranged the suitcases so fast the three girls barely registered her actions, closing the hood of the car in a quick motion so everything wouldn’t fall off.

“Mhm, you won’t be able to see much of what’s behind the car, Gigi, but I don’t think it can get any better than that.”

The girls simply stare, impressed by Karina’s skills.

“So… problem solved?” Ningning asks, and they all nod.

Without a word, the four girls enter the small car, squeezing themselves as they prepare for their small trip. It wasn’t uncommon for the band to spend hours stuck in Giselle’s stepfather’s old 2000 Civic, but the lack of space was always annoying, making them all feel packed in like sardines. However, the vehicle was the only option they had to make their way to nearby cities to perform, so they avoided making any complaints.

The band was just about an hour into their 4-hour drive when Giselle pulled over, cursing under her breath.

“Fuck.” She mutters, biting her nails as she looks at the line of cars being stopped by the police, just a few miles ahead. Her face was even paler than usual, which set the girls on alert mode immediately— out of the four of them, Giselle was the least likely to panic at any unusual situation.

As soon as her body tensed, the Uchinaga felt long, lithe hands on her neck, applying just the right amount of pressure to soothe her, filling her with reassurance. Karina’s, naturally. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Yeah, why did we stop?” Ningning adds to Karina’s question, just as curious.

Minjeong’s brows furrow and she adjusts her posture, trying to stare at the horizon in the same position Giselle was, from the passenger’s seat instead. As always, she’s quick to understand the situation. “They’re stopping the cars ahead, but it’s just their normal procedure. They’ll stop us, of course, since we’re young girls traveling by ourselves with a bunch of luggage, but we’ve got nothing to hide, so… keep going, unnie. It’s fine.”

Seconds went by before Giselle grunted, a tense atmosphere hanging in the air while she fidgeted her fingers. Only then, her answer came, barely in a murmur. “I don’t have a license.” She could only hope they hadn’t heard her.

Judging from the way her bandmates’ mouths opened in shock they all started to speak together, though, they did.

Such a selective hearing, huh. She always had to yell at them at least three times for someone to get up from the living room and do the dishes, whenever they were home.

“What the fuck, unnie?”

“Do you really drive us illegally? Girl, we go everywhere by car!”

“I can’t believe you’re so damn irresponsible, I fucking swe—“

Karina stops their banter by out-screaming the two younger girls, a few minutes after Giselle had shrieked down on her seat so much she could merge with it anytime. “Wait! Wait.” Three pairs of eyes stare at her, inquiring. The quietness was odd, but it didn’t last much anyway. “I thought you had your permit taken last month?”

It’s Giselle’s turn to roll her eyes, then. “I literally told you that I failed. Do you pay attention to anything I say?”

Despite the situation they found themselves in, Minjeong and Ningning couldn’t help but giggle. It wasn’t news that Karina’s got her head up in the clouds, but her innocence was always funny to the girls. Despite being the oldest, she’s just a big puppy, after all.

And she looks outraged, ears red from the thought of being fooled by Aeri.

“What? we even celebrated!” Her face comes to the realization, as Minjeong tries to hide her laughter with a fake coughing fit. Winter’s blonde hair blows effortlessly when she turns her head to the window, in an obvious attempt to escape Giselle’s piercing stare. “Oh! Was that why you were being such a jerk the entire night, at the club?”

Giselle ruffles her hair in frustration but nods anyway. “Yes, that was the reason. Thanks for reminding us of that wonderful day, Jiminnie.”

Ningning taps on Karina’s shoulder, in hopes of offering some comfort to the desolated girl. She whistles, then looks from Aeri to Minjeong as if hoping they’d pull a permit out of nowhere and start driving again. Once it’s clear none of them would provide any solution, she does so herself, lifting her hips to grab her phone from the back pocket of her jeans.

“I’ll call Y/n.” Is all she says, clicking on the red number with 13 missed calls on the screen. “She’ll do something about it.”

Karina’s even more outraged, then, staring at Ningning in disbelief. She tries to reach out for her friend’s phone, but the maknae pulls her hand away with a huff. “Why do you even have her number, anyway?”

Sure, you’d be at their presentation, even if it were at a nearby town, hours away from where they lived. Somehow, you always show up. The girls couldn’t even remember when it happened; all they know is that they played at Ningning’s cousin’s club once, and from then on there you were, accompanying them in every step. You took pictures, edited videos to upload on their YouTube channel, and even helped them get some gigs every once in a while. It’s difficult for the girls to understand the reason you spend so much time and effort with them— a broke, nugu band who’s been doing this for a little over a year, yet there you were. Their first and most faithful fan, ready to drop everything to help them with any situation, at any given time.

Just like now.

Nonetheless, they had agreed to keep you at an arm's distance, only so the lines wouldn’t get too blurry. With time, they got to know you better, and it was noticeable you were as spoiled, obsessive, and explosive as you were sweet and passionate about the things you liked.

Truth be told, you scared them a little.

“I thought we had agreed on not talking to the psycho anymore,” Minjeong commented, resting her head on the window.

Ningning pauses at that, muting herself on the phone for a moment before answering, straightforwardly. “Well, do you want to get there or not?”

Her honesty is harsh enough that Minjeong lifts her palms in surrender, while Karina and Giselle share a knowing look. Ning’s right, naturally —what matters is that they get to the club on time.

“Fine,” The blonde sighs, turning to point at Karina. “But you’ll have to handle that nightmare of a weirdo. Don’t let her freak out or anything, like she did last time.”

“Why do I always have to do it?” Karina pouts, rolling her eyes. “Come on! What the fuck.”

Giselle giggles, grateful that Karina can’t reach out to punch her as she nods. “I agree… it’s a leader’s duty.”

With her brows furrowed and her rosy lips, the oldest member of the band looks much like a doll, adorable in all of her mannerisms. Even when she scoffs, it doesn’t come out nearly as rude and intimidating as she intends it to be. She still looks like a painting, so pretty Ningning pokes her playfully, brushing the irritation out of Karina with her ticklish fingers. Once she’s left ticklish in her seat, Ningning drops her phone, done with her call.

“Y/n said she’ll be here soon.” She announces, and the girls hum faintly in response. It’s enough for her to giggle, reaching out for her bag in hopes of finding a snack. “Don’t be too excited, damn...”

“I just hope she doesn’t take long,” Giselle mutters, ignoring the glares she gets by being to blame for their current situation.

“Well, if someone had just passed their driving test, we wouldn’t—”

The Uchinaga turns to Winter so fast her neck makes a weird noise. “Shut the fuck up, Minjeong.” Her tone is full of mockery, which is dangerous. Giselle gets irritated easily, but it’s hard to get her mad. Whenever she does, though… None of the girls like that. “I don’t see you driving around either.”

Minjeong, who’d rather die than recognize she doesn’t excel at something, puts a hand on her chest with the comment. Her face is quickly filled with red and, in a minute, she’s defending herself as if she’s just received a 5-year sentence.

As much as their banter is entertaining, Ningning still clings onto Karina on the backseat, resting her head on her unnie’s shoulders.

“I do hope Y/n arrives soon.” She tells her friend, closing her eyes despite the noisy background.

Karina smiles, ruffling the maknae’s hair with tenderness as she relaxes beside the oldest. “Don’t worry, Ning. She will.”

If there’s something she’s sure of, is that you don’t play when it comes to their band. Be it for good or for worse.

—

“Hello, cuties.” You say, tapping your knuckles on the driver’s window to gather attention. It works: the girls all jump in their seats, cursing under their breaths as they try to gather themselves from the scare. “Your knight in shining armor has come! Hurry, hurry! You’re running late.”

It had been less than an hour since Ningning’s call, so there’s no way you could’ve reached them so quickly. None of them say those words out loud, of course— some questions are better left unanswered.

“Here comes the devil.” Minjeong mumbles. The smile she gives you is drenched in feigned politeness, yet yours is sincere, bluntly ignoring her grumpiness with a wave of your hand.

“Hi, Y/n.” Karina greets you as the four girls get out of the car. You hug each one of them energetically, clearly pleased to be urged to help.

It doesn’t even bother you that Giselle, Winter, and Ningning only mumble, not paying you much attention. If only, your happiness would take long to wear off.

Still swooning, you gesture to the van that’s parked beside their car where a handsome, baby-faced boy waves at the girls with ease.

“My brother won this van at a bet a few days ago, and fortunately, he lent it to us. It’s more fitting for a band anyway.” You gesture at their car, still explaining. “Gyu can take your stepdad’s car back to your house, Gigi. Don’t worry.”

They already know Beomgyu from the previous times he’s dropped you off at their rehearsals and shows, so it’s nothing new. Although Giselle doesn’t seem convinced about your idea, she reluctantly gives him the car keys anyway. There’s no other option; she can’t just leave the car on the road, even though giving it to a stranger makes her uneasy.

“Thank you, Beomgyu-ssi.” The girls bow at him, thankful for the extra space, to which he simply nods.

The girls are quick to transport the suitcases to the van, stretching their legs out as they sigh with contentment. It’s like they can finally breathe, now that they’re not cramped in a tiny space. Even Minjeong is smiling, her little banter with Giselle being long forgotten by now.

Giselle is in the passenger’s seat, this time, and she’s surprised to see how easy it is to talk to a happy Y/n. You laugh and gossip over other bands the girls come across sometimes, and you tell them the entire story of how Beomgyu actually got the van. Time flies by while you’re on the wheel, and soon enough the four girls find themselves at the back door of the club, fixing their instruments for the time they go on stage.

—

“Do you get all those insane takes with this old-ass camera?” Ning asks curiously, holding the straightener against her hair as she watches you record Winter, who’s busy tuning her bass and pretending you don’t exist.

“It’s vintage, unnie.” You correct her, zooming in on the blonde girl’s delicate hands and her precise movements against the cords. “It has amazing quality, still.” Because Ningning is still staring, clearly waiting for a more direct answer, you add, “Yes. Pretty Much. Hey Minjeongie, look at the camera so I can get a better shot of you.”

All Winter gives you is an irritated look as she scrunches her nose and shakes her head. The girls enjoy arriving early at their events so they’re able to gather a few minutes of quietude, strictly to relax and focus on not letting the nerves overcome their abilities to shine on stage. You know that— it’s something you’ve seen them do countless times before. You find it adorable how they’d just close their eyes and try to control their breaths, fingers tapping their thighs to ease the anxiety that always comes with the wait of going on stage. No matter how many times they perform, the thrill will always be the same.

Although you don’t mind interrupting Winter’s time of focusing at all. Seeing you won’t give in, Winter scoffs, dropping the bass onto her lap. “Be polite, Y/n. Say please.”

Her intentions are as obvious as daylight. She’s mocking you, defiant like the insufferable being she is. Out of the four girls, Minjeong is the most stubborn, and you’re much alike. She was the one you got into most arguments with, none of you backing down from the opportunity of being right.

Said banter is the reason you turn and adjust the camera focus to Ningning, instead of giving in to the blonde girl. Yizhuo looks pretty as always, smiling at you as you kneel to get a take of her from a better angle.

You’re immediately interrupted by the same girl who was irritated by your presence just seconds ago. In a blink, Winter’s hands go to your chin, forcing you to face her with an assertive grip. “No. Film me.” Her porcelain skin shines against her dark eyes, who pop out even more, making her intimidating aura stand out in the small room as she adds with an icy, commanding tone, “And have manners.”

God, you’d gladly take her down just to get rid of that cocky tone.

“Stare at the fucking camera so you can have some decent solo shots, Winter unnie.” Your reply comes immediately, tone dripping with venom, “Please.”

Winter’s face is so red you’re afraid she’s going to combust at any second. She never spares hurtful words during arguments, and you’re ready for her to give it all. Disaster is set to happen until Giselle pops her head backstage, looking for you. Her eyes disappear and her cheeks flare up as soon as she meets your face, breaking the tension with a smile once her presence unintentionally ends the small battle you were having with Winter.

“Y/n!” She calls, handing out her hand to help you stand up. “Could you come help us with the drums, please? The guys from the bar are trying, but they’re so damn useless… We need you.”

You look away and Winter’s grip on you fades, although her trimmed nails still scratch your jaw as she lets her hand fall to her sides and returns to the couch, tuning her bass as if she had never been interrupted.

“Sure, Gigi. Let’s go.” It’s impossible to not smile back, allowing yourself to be guided through the narrow stairs of the place until you arrive at the stage. You don’t bother saying goodbye to either Ningning or Winter, knowing you’re going back to them as soon as you’re done.

The two younger girls are left by themselves, in silence for the first time since you arrived to pick them up, hours ago. It’s unsettling yet peaceful; not uncomfortable by any means. They’ve known each other for too long by now, so being with each other is more than natural— it’s one’s absence that is unsettling.

After giving her hair a few finishing touches, Ningning turns to her bandmate, pulling the chair beside her as she gestures for Minjeong to sit. Its leather cover is torn and the comfort is long gone, but they don’t mind. They’ve performed in far more awful places anyway.

“Okay, I’m done! Be still while I do your makeup, now, unnie.” Minjeong does as told, closing her eyes while the maknae starts moisturizing her skin.

The silence has Winter’s mind replaying the previous banter nonstop. She tries to stay silent, but the memory of your petty smirk is enough to leave her fuming, pumping with rage.

“Can you believe her, Ning? That fucking bitch, ugh. She’s so insufferable.”

“Oh, definitely.” Ningning smiles, thankful Minjeong has her eyes closed. She lets out a small giggle, still focused on brushing the concealer through her friend’s face. “God forbid someone puts you in your place, right unnie?”

She nearly doesn’t escape the highlighter Minjeong throws in her direction, now laughing freely as she continues with her task.

—

Aespa is a band of many talents.

The girls all met during sophomore year of high school, all trapped in detention for the day (as much as Minjeong would rather die than admit she’s ever gotten detention in her life). Even though they differ in personalities, in a clear contrast of cultures, manners, and experiences — their differences somehow added to each other until there wasn’t something missing anymore. The feeling of longing and loneliness that had accompanied them for so many years had finally ceased. After that, the girls found themselves at peace: the world was finally silent, as long as they were together. No matter how chaotic it was, Karina, Minjeong, Giselle, and Ningning knew they’d like nothing else but to be together.

Luckily, they all shared two main passions: the love for music and the desire for attention, so being in a band together was something that happened rather naturally. The members all agreed, then, that Karina should be the leader. She was soft-spoken, calm, and had the experience in the industry the others lacked, from being a child model. It was the right decision: the oldest would do anything to protect her girls, and knew just the right people to ask for opportunities. They weren’t famous, nor did they make enough money to live off exclusively from the music, but it was enough, for now.

They had trouble understanding you, though. It was hard to grasp why on earth would they have someone so faithful, so committed to following their every move when they weren’t even famous? They didn’t have money, influence, or anything to offer you whatsoever. Yet you were always there, giving them your endless support without asking for anything in exchange. You could be a handful sometimes, sure, but still… your commitment was something that left the girls constantly wondering.

Because you’re special. The world will see this too, someday. is what you’d always answer, followed by a giggle and a wave of your hand, muttering about how it all wasn’t that big of a deal.

But as Giselle watches you help them relocate their instruments and set the tripods and cameras straight, she wonders if that’s truly it.

“Hey, Gigi.” You smile at her, looking down at the ground once you realize you’re the object of her piercing, focused gaze. “Are you and the other girls ready to go? Everything’s in order here.”

Now isn’t the time for that, though, Aeri reminds herself. As of now, the only thing she should focus on is her upcoming stage. Music is one of the many things she was strict with: she pushed herself to nothing but perfection, no matter where she was performing.

The other girls are quick to follow your call, grabbing their instruments and getting into their starter positions as they’ve done countless times before. They all adjust their mics to the perfect height until Karina is the only one left in the center, tapping hers to make sure she sounds loud and clear. Ningning’s hands fiddle with her drumsticks nervously, paddling along with her whole body— surely from the energy drinks she’s had minutes before, while Minjeong and Giselle stay each on one side of the stage, waiting for their leader’s cue.

Offering free tickets for those who arrived before 11 PM was a great strategy that many clubs implemented to fill up their spaces. And even though you’re well aware the girls are known enough to gather such a crowd without that stunt, you’re glad to have a full house staring at the small stage with expectation.

Karina waits until you’re done with your camera’s finishing touches up to speak, her voice echoing through the noise so easily that your hands stop adjusting the device’s focus to pay attention to her. With a smile so big her eyes grow small, her face is like a beacon, gathering all the focus to herself without the need for a spotlight.

“Goodnight! I’m Karina, and those are my bandmates: Minjeong, Giselle, and Ningning.” She points to each of her friends, who bow and wave excitedly, still waiting for her cue. “And we’re AESPA! We hope you like our music, we’ve worked hard on our songs! Please enjoy.”

With that, Ningning taps on her drumsticks, as they’ve done countless times before. Minjeong’s bass and Giselle’s guitar sync with Karina’s voice as soon as they start playing, the melody echoing through the place like physical particles. Music is more than just a part of their lives: it’s who they are, how they express themselves, what they breathe, and it’s easy to forget they’re at a shitty pub and not at a fancy festival. As long as their voices and instruments are harmonizing together, the girls get lost in their passion and nothing else matters.

Even though they’re a new group— barely a year into the industry, original songs are not something that lack from their setlist. The public is screaming, the girls are jumping as they sing and dance along the rhythm and you try your best to capture their best angles, but the distraction in the form of a sin that is Karina prevents you from doing a good job. Her dark eyes glow in the dark, giving her an angelic aura as her strong voice reverberates through the place with ease, despite her shitty mic. It’s an impressive crowd they’re performing for, but she’s only staring at you. Preventing you to breathe or even move, afraid she’d lose her interest and look elsewhere.

No, you’d have none of that. Like all the girls, Karina was yours: you’d share her utter attention with no one.

So you stay at the front line, with your hands holding onto the camera as your head is held up in a frozen frame, looking at her.

You’d always look at her.

—

The afterparties are always one of the girls’ favorite events. The adrenaline rush is still present, giving them tons of energy to drink and party with strangers. They are constantly showered with compliments, being pampered, and indulged with all the attention they crave. It’s part of the reasons why they deal with music, obviously: Minjeong, Giselle, Ningning, and Karina. Because the desire to be seen and recognized for their music is a feeling they’ve been looking for ever since they can remember.

And that’s exactly what they were indulging in before hearing a loud crack from outside of the backstage room. The noise, followed by a bunch of ugly screams, startles the four girls, who exchange a quick, worried glance before storming down straight into the sideway alley.

“Damn.” Ningning whistles, covering her mouth with her hand to hide the smile coming from her lips. At her side, Minjeong and Karina are equally shocked and frozen at the scene unraveling in front of them.

People usually use the dark, space to smoke and get a break from the noisy, heated space of the club. Instead, the four girls find a huddle of girls so entwined with one another it’s hard to tell how many there are. Four, maybe five? Of them are vividly screaming, kicking, tugging, and pulling hairs. Despite the mess, the girls realize there’s one that keeps beating the shit out of them, which is impressive due to being gravely outnumbered.

As the commotion stops for seconds once the strangers become aware of the newer company, it’s easier to tell a specific head of honey hair apart from the others.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Minjeong’s murmur doesn’t come off nearly as disappointed as she intends to. If anything, she’s also holding back her laughter while you prove that one does not need that much muscles to win off a fight.

“Go Y/n!” Karina claps, cheering. None of the three girls make any move towards the scene, so Giselle turns her head towards them in disbelief.

The Japanese girl shrugs, quickly making her way onto the ground to break off the fight. She’s always been strong, and her time spent at the gym pays off as she grabs you by the waist and throws you over her shoulder, heading back to the backstage room as if you weigh nothing. Any attempts of resisting are useless, yet you don’t make Giselle’s job any easier— your kicking and screaming are now directed at her, hands curling into fists while you use your entire strength to hit her muscled back.

“Put me DOWN! I’m not done with those whores.” Your feverish voice is ignored by the four girls, who are used to your tantrums by now.

They know you’re naturally provocative, and never one to back down from a fight, even if you were in the wrong. And, somehow, you were good at it too: even if you left bruised and scratched, your opponents would somehow always turn out worse.

“Sorry ladies, we have some issues to deal with. If you excuse us.” As the group goes back inside, Ningning offers the poor beaten-up girls a calculated smile before closing the door on their faces. She doesn’t bother to check in on them— they’re strangers, after all.

You’re thrown onto the worn-out sofa with little care, suddenly staring at four serious faces. The funny atmosphere of the fight is long gone, so you cross your arms under your chest and grunt, face held high to put up with their judgmental looks.

This is their job, and they can’t have you causing trouble over anything. You’re associated with them by now, whether they like it or not. It’d be an awful occurrence.

“So, troublemaker, tell us.” Giselle is the first to speak, brushing the bangs out of her face. Even after carrying you for solid minutes, she still looks flawless, much different from your disheveled self. “What had you beating their asses out there?”

There’s a pout on your lips, and the defiant air in the room stirs up their nerves. It’s an annoying interruption of the fun they were having just now, and the alcohol makes it hard for them to stay patient.

Minjeong takes half a step forward, her hands messing up your hair even more. “Speak, Y/n. We have better things to do.”

She doesn’t coddle you, tone cold as it always was when directed towards you, but you don’t mind. If anything, you take pride in making her life a bit more difficult every time. You know they won’t give you their attention for much longer, though, which is why sigh deeply.

“I was defending your honor, you idiots!” You gesticulate towards the door, huffing. “Those whores were out there, talking about you, speaking the most vile things… I had to do something. You should be thanking me, and not look so pissed.” You roll your eyes, muttering the rest to yourself as you sink on the dirty couch. “You never acknowledge anything I do anyway.”

It had felt too hot inside, so you passed the backstage area to gather some fresh air at the alley when you encountered the group of girls. They were in love with the band, obviously, and were very vocal about the things they’d let the girls do to them: how their leather clothes were so tight and how hot they were… Hearing such things being said about your girls made your blood boil. They were yours, and no one else had the right to desire them like that. So you were quick to take action and make sure everyone knew who Giselle, Winter, Karina, and Ningning belonged to. As a matter of fact, It was a successful attempt: after the lesson you taught them, those girls would think twice before saying anything again.

Your gaslighting does little to the band; it’s easy to look further into your façade now that they know you. They don’t pity you in the slightest, well aware you’re one to be cautious around.

Karina smiles at your act. She can’t help it if the pout on your lips makes you so adorable, and your crossed arms are the reason your send nudes crop top rides up so your boobs are even more evident. “Which things, Y/n? What were they saying, exactly?”

“What they said doesn’t matter.” You huff, dismissing Karina’s question with a wave of your hand. “The important thing is that they’ve been dealt with, and your honor is intact. You’re welcome.”

The electronic music is loud, and it’s easy to feel the rhythm reverberating through the furniture, sending electric waves to your bones that rile you up even more. You’re energized, ready to go back to the crowd, drink, smoke, and stir up some trouble again.

Aeri must’ve been thinking the same thing since she merely shakes her head and leaves without a word. Ning is the next one to follow, proceeded by Minjeong, who rolls her eyes and points her finger right at your face.

“You’re such a menace, Y/n. Acting like an animal… you can’t behave at all.” You’re used to the disdain in her voice, so the only thing you do is mirror her snobbish stare as you watch her leave.

Unlike her bandmate, Karina’s eyes are kind— even though you’ve just messed up hard. You’re the only ones left in the room, you realize, as she holds out her hand to you. With her presence, the music ceases, and the only thing you can focus on is the sound of her heartbeat, and how her little chin mole goes up to match her smile, which is equally sweet.

Sweet, patient, and definitely too good for you: that’s Karina, a soul that should stay untouched, not yet ruined by the world and by other people.

Too bad that you’ve never been one to do the right thing.

You navigate towards her in a magnetic motion, taking her help so fast your bodies nearly crash once you get up from the couch. Instead of complaining or making fun of you for being so abrupt, Karina takes her free hand to your face, cupping your cheek before carefully wiping the dirt from your skin.

“Troublemaker.” She repeats Giselle’s words from earlier, although they sound almost reverent when said in her raspy voice, tired from the crazy routine they live with. “She’s a bit right, don’t you think?” The smirk on her lips is playful, and she toys with you. “You keep us on our toes, for sure. I guess someone has to.”

She doesn’t mind. If anything, Karina misses your presence when you’re gone— which is thankfully, a rare occasion. Sure, you’re stubborn, spoiled, and very annoying, but the band somehow needs you to keep their engines running. She knows the other girls feel the same way about you too, even if they’re good at not making it known.

Being with Karina feels right. She’s Aespa’s peace, their leader, and their oldest member. And, just like everybody that has ever met her, you long to be around the older girl.

“Let’s go back to the party, Jimin unnie.” You tell her, crossing your arms behind her neck. If there’s anything she’d want you to do, you would. Gladly. “I want to dance.”

She smiles back at you, looking at the half-open door before nodding. “As you wish, Y/n.”

—

Aespa’s hotel room for the night is precarious, to say the least. The wallpaper is peeling from the walls, the furniture is dusty— and the small dining table seems to barely handle your laptop and media equipment. The bed makes too many weird noises at the slightest movement, and the smell of mold is a bit unsettling for those with a decent sense of smell.

It’s Minjeong’s job to deal with their spending and to book their stays, whenever the band wanders off their hometown. Her father works as a treasurer at a well-established company and has taught her how to handle her own money from a young age. Sometimes, though, she tends to spend too little, given the fact that they still did not earn much with their performances, and the five girls would end up in situations like the current one. Not that they truly minded: they had two rooms to sleep in and breakfast by the morning, which was more than enough. They would handle the rest.

Karina, Giselle, Ningning, and Minjeong are all rockstars, it’s natural for them to thrive under attention. They live for it, and you love to record their pretty faces. Out of all the experiences of being with the girls, getting to take pictures and videos of their performances and looks— be it before, during, or after their shows. Editing might also be a pain and sometimes feel like a chore, but it was also something you enjoyed doing.

Besides, the praises and the proud, enamored look Giselle, Ningning, Karina, and Minjeong gave you whenever you updated something new to their channel and social media was something you looked forward to, naturally. In fact, you’re so focused on your task that you barely notice a sudden wave of hot breath on your shoulder.

“How far are you, yet?” Karina’s wet hair clings to your neck as you breathe in her post-bath scent, so refreshing. You’re unable to see her sulk behind you, but her whiny tone is enough for you to figure her feelings out before she adds, “Also, why am I the one with the least videos, Y/n?”

You don’t even stop your work to look at the vocalist, who stares at your laptop’s screen with expectation: the answer is obvious to anyone who has ever had the privilege of getting to know Aespa's leader."

“Because I’m always too busy looking at you to focus on anything else.” The words leave your mouth immediately, exposing facts. “But I’ll improve for next time if that’s what you wish.”

Doing anything after Karina opens her mouth is impossible. Her angelic voice and sharp moves draw all the attention to her immediately; one would be completely insane to not be mesmerized by her. By all of her.

“It is.” She nods, still so close you’re able to feel her body pressed against you through the chair’s cracks. Like a kitten, Karina purrs, finally breaking the tension between you by pressing small, wet kisses to your neck. “Y/n…”

You’re doomed. You’ve known that ever since she left the bathroom, with wet hair and red, swollen lips that did little to hide what she was up to while the shower was running.

Karina’s long, purple-painted nails scratch your neck, forcing you to pay attention to her— as if you’d do anything else. You’re quick to comply, closing your laptop as you stand up and walk away from the oldest member, onto your backpack. Her confused brows are adorable, but the realization comes soon once she reckons the camera on your hands. By then, there’s a dirty smirk on both of your lips; you know she loves this as much as you do.

“Are you up for another show, doll?”

Karina nods, suddenly shy from all the dirty thoughts going through her head. Her skin throbs, and there’s a familiar sensation building up in her core from the anticipation.

After waiting for the camera to be well adjusted and centered in front of the bed, with the familiar red dot announcing the recording, she turns around, removing her robe with practiced ease. The silk fabric of her robe cascades from her back, exposing her milky skin in its most perfect form. She’s indeed like a doll; body still untouched, announcing it’s been a while since she’s had any fun, and her Venus dimples flare up with every step she takes towards the bed. Her curves are perfectly enhanced by her sensual walk— she knows so, grabbing her hair out of the way so you’re able to get a clear shot of her body.

You’re so lucky to even have the privilege of looking at her. Karina seems to think the same thing; her knowing smile turns malicious just as she sits on the bed, spreading her legs out for your delight. Playing around with her is almost a routine, by now: Karina needs something, someone to be her stress-relief, and you’re more than eager to help.

However, seeing her bare and so eager to welcome your touch was something you’d crave forever. No matter how many times it happened: you’d always be hungry for the slightest glimpse of her pretty pussy.

And it was no secret that Karina loved to show off, so you drink on her like you haven’t had a single drop of liquor in ages.

It had indeed been too long.

“How do I look, baby?” Her voice is soft, calm as she looks deep inside your eyes and taps on her pussy with two of her fingers. A small strand of wetness lingers between her fingers and her slit, and she takes her fingers forward to make a show for seconds longer. It’s only when the strand dissipates that Karina brings her fingers into her mouth, taking them in ever so naturally. You don’t even register the whine that comes from your lips once she releases them with a ‘bop’, right after licking them clean.

“Absolutely stunning.” Your answer comes in a heartbeat, which pleases her deeply. In a blink, you’re in front of her on the bed, although still careful to not cover up her frame for the camera. Not that you have to worry about that; Karina is well aware of her best angles. “As always.” You lick your lips, eager to have your mouth on her, licking every part of her body until she’s more than satisfied, coated with your saliva.

But you know better than to touch her without permission, so you simply wait, aware she needs more indulgence than merely a few words. You run your hands up and down her legs, ever so obedient, hoping she’ll allow you to touch her.

Instead, her fingers go up to her chest, groping her big, voluptuous breasts. She’s so evil— Karina knows how obsessed you are with her boobs, “You caused so much trouble today, Y/n… I shouldn’t let you touch me at all.”

Her feigned innocence only adds to your desire, dampening your pussy even more. Even though you’re burning up, you can’t help but be in awe by how much of a goddess she looks, and it takes everything in you to not just grab her by the ankles and suck on her clit until she was screaming and leaking white from her pussy. Still staring at you, Karina twists her nipples and moans, biting her lip as she breathes in deeply.

You’re already throbbing yourself, and she’s done nothing. That’s the amount of power she has over you.

“I’ve been bad.” You nod almost eagerly, ready to do whatever she commands you to if it means you’ll get to pleasure her. “Can I still have you, though? Promise to make you feel super good.”

At first look, Karina might be the most inviting one out of all of the girls, but you know better than to fall into her trap: just like her bandmates, the leader thrives on playing games, manipulating people, and fooling around. Thankfully to both you and her, you’re happy to indulge in all of her wishes. So you add, battling your lashes at her as you take off your clothes yourself, not bothering for a command on this matter. “I’ll do my best for unnie…”

Karina’s eyes darken at the sight of your naked body; it’s so empowering to know she’s just as affected by you, and she runs her fingers through your hair with practiced ease. Taking her silence as an encouragement, you lie down until your face is lined up with her soaked cunt, blowing warm, rapid breaths onto her sex.

She smiles, then, caressing your cheek before giving it a light tap. “Go get the strap, baby.” Your smile fades immediately, and you contemplate ignoring her words until she’s changed your mind before your cheek is met with more of Karina’s fingers, her touch stronger this time. “Now.”

You huff, muttering incoherences because she’s such a bitch, ruining all of your plans, but still do as told, grabbing the strap without much further fussing. With the toy in hands, you return to the edge of the bed, staring at her with a puzzled look on your face.

“Are you going to use it?” You ask, curious. Taking Karina’s cock was something you always looked forward to, and the sight of her pounding onto you was enough for your walls to clench, eager to welcome her.

Karina launches forward before you even finish your question, grabbing your thighs with practiced ease as her fingers brush your pussy. The surprise touch makes you let out a loud moan, which stirs up a laugh on the older girl.

“If only you’d behaved today… I had so many things planned for us to do.” Karina’s voice sounds almost regretful, making you kneel once again, “No, baby. Tonight’s only about me. Now suck.”

There’s little time for you to think her thoughts through. Your mind goes blank, and you open your mouth to give her a show this time, reversing the roles. Always eager to please, you gag on her cock. Saliva drips onto the sheets as she shoves it down your throat, but you don’t seem to care, emptying your mind to give her will over you to use you like a toy. She’s not sweet or slow by any means— Karina’s innocent smile, welcoming posture, and puppy-like personality make a good disguise for hiding how dirty she is. Part of her tells herself it’s wrong, and that’s why she tries to reject how much her body craves rougher actions, but the truth is that the hiding and the expectation also turn her on.

Those thoughts hover in your mind as you bob on her strap, looking at the leader through your lashes while you gather all your focus on giving your best for her. You try to look your best, and give your best for Aespa’s leader: she deserves nothing less, after all. It seems to be enough for Karina, who sighs at the sight of you staring from behind your lashes with your hair all over the place ever since her tangling hands went to your scalp, encouraging you to keep going for so long you’ve lost track of time.

“Beautiful. You look so beautiful like this, baby.” She murmurs with a low, sultry tone as she takes the strap from your mouth and seals your lips in a slow kiss. You’re starved for her; your boobs press together when you deepen the kiss, desperate for more. At this point you’re already soaked, leaving a deep, wet spot on the sheets— and your skin burns. “Don’t be rude. Say thank you.”

Such a tease, she is. You roll your eyes at her trying to rile you up, and she laughs. “Don’t even.” You mutter, rolling your eyes at her.

Karina’s hands go to your thighs, caressing your skin as she motions for you to get up once again. “You’re so stubborn.” She chants, adjusting the strap on you. Per her request, you lay back on the bed as soon as you’re done, somehow managing to sink under the shallow pillows.

There’s such a mean smirk dancing around her lips. Your cunt aches and it’s borderline painful; sweat covers your body and you’re nearly sure you’ll go insane if you don’t give her all the pleasure she’s worthy of very soon. All you want is to eat her out until she’s breathless, porcelain skin all marked begging for you to stop. Then, you’d lick her clean, making her cum so many times there’d be plenty of milk dripping from her hole for you to drink on. All yours. She’s all yours to tend to.

“Why don’t you just let me do it already…” You whine, drawing your head back when she grabs one of your nipples and twists— the friction feels so good it sends a hit of pleasure straight to your pussy.

Instead of indulging your needs, Karina laughs, and there’s a hidden mockery in her tone that only adds to your frustration. She comes close until her hips rest on your thighs, with the strap being the only thing that keeps a distance between you. Before you’re able to test her patience even more, she positions the dick on her entrance, slightly rocking back and forth so it hits deliciously against her clit.

“You can look.” She says, grabbing your shoulders to steady herself. “But you can’t touch. Understood, baby?”

Karina’s eyes, big and expressive, stare at you with feigned innocence as one of her hands caresses your jaw, lifting your face so you’d stare at her. Having her making such luscious sounds so close to you is like a death penalty. Karina’s mouth hangs slightly open, and you gulp whenever she aligns the fake dick with her entrance, giving you a serious look that makes it clear that she expects an answer to her command.

A huge bitch, she is. A hot, sexy, and huge bitch. It’s nearly impossible to stay still, but you can see the challenge in her eyes as soon as she cocks her head at you. Although her little act of defiance is silent, her intentions are as clear as day: she wants you to humiliate yourself: to beg for forgiveness so you’ll maybe get granted the privilege of touching her.

So you smile back, placing your hands on your hips and doing nothing else, even if you’re itching to run your tongue all over her body. “As you wish, unnie.”

Karina is so wet, of course she is— it’s not hard to leave her drenched. The dick slides in easily, and she takes her time with taking down its inches. Your grip on her hips turns slightly stronger at the sight of her looking so angelical, as her big, soft boobs are all in display to your face. That earns you a censoring look, and you move your hands with another eye-roll. There's nothing more you want but to touch her.

After a few breaths, Karina finds a steady pace, bouncing on your lap. The gushing sounds of her pussy that echo through the room are nearly pornographic, and you find yourself letting out desperate whimpers, too.

“So good.” She murmurs, lost in pleasure. Her grip on your shoulders tightens, and you feel her muscles tensing up.

You can’t help it— watching her pleasure herself is almost too much. Without much thinking, your fingers make their way to her clit, circling her hardened as you study her, testing out the waters. She lets out a gasp at the sensation, closing her eyes to enjoy the way her lower abdomen kept building up the tension. The tingling sensation increases with the rhythm of your strokes, along with her moves, and it doesn’t take much further for Karina to cum.

Just as always, Karina’s strong voice fills the room as she takes her head back, clenching her pussy once the waves of pleasure hit her with strong motions. Her entire body trembles, and she relies on you to keep her steady.

“You look the prettiest when you cum.” You tell her, after a few moments of silence.

The laugh she lets out is weak, more like a giggle as Karina sighs deeply, carelessly throwing herself on your side of the bed. She turns to you, then, so close your noses are nearly touching, disregarding your words as if you hadn’t said anything at all. “And you can’t ever behave, can you?”

You mirror her smirk, pecking her lips before shaking your head. “You like it that way, though.”

The two of you stay in a comfortable silence, one you don’t mind at all. The girls have had some busy, tiring weeks, and you know Karina needs rest. She’s tired—they all are, so the tension relief was well welcomed by the oldest girl. Despite being all sweaty and breathless, Karina is much less anxious now that you’ve helped her relax. She runs her fingers through your body, taking her time until she reaches your pussy. It delights her to feel how soaked you are: she’s aware of the amount of power she holds over you, and the fact that you’re gulping, still throbbing yourself, is something so empowering to her.

It makes her insides tingle all over again, asking for more.

“Jimin…” You whine again, opening your legs to give the girl better access to your entrance. You need her to touch you or else you’ll explode.

Two of her fingers enter your cunt before you can cry any further, hitting a fast pace without warning. The action is well welcomed, and you hold her wrist, motioning to go further. But Karina loves to make you frustrated; it’s almost as if she thrives on it: just like they made their way inside, her fingers are gone, and her mean smirk is back.

“You haven’t behaved at all today.” She repeats herself, laughing as she kisses your pout away. You bite her lip in response, which makes her pull your face away, although she’s still giggling. “You’ll get nothing tonight, baby. I’m sorry.”

You narrow your eyes at her, “You’re such a fucking liar! You’re not sorry at all!”

Karina turns her back to you, making a show of ignoring you as she grabs the covers just as a big yawn hits her. “Goodnight to you too, pretty. Sleep tight,” You roll your eyes, ready to give her a sneaky remark when she adds, “Oh, and don’t forget to turn off the camera. We don’t want you running out of battery or anything, do we?”

“You’re such a bitch.” Although you still get up and do as told, knowing she’s partially right.

Karina waits patiently for you to return to bed, with her small eyes and big smile. The sensuality and roughness from earlier have been replaced by her usual bubbly self, which you adore just as much. It has always been amusing to you how easily it is for her to just switch back and forth from the luscious, gorgeous woman she is to her puppy personality, and you adore her either way.

You hop into her arms, humming when she fills your neck with small, wet kisses.

“You have to behave, silly.” Is what she tells you, biting your skin gently. You’re one to bruise easily, you both know it as much. However, you say nothing, allowing her to do as she pleases. “Otherwise you won’t get a reward.”

“We’ll see about that.” You murmur, happy to get lost in her cuddles. “I sure need something after that torture session.”

Your words cause you to be pushed back, although you know Karina’s only joking.“Oh my God! Go to sleep, Y/n. Goodnight.”

“Ugh.” Is all you answer, closing your arms around her waist.

“Y/n.”

“Right, right.” You sigh, “Goodnight, cutie. Can I get a kiss?”

The hand that goes through your face is enough of an answer.

“Sleep. We’ll have a busy day tomorrow.” She commands.

And because it’s Karina, you obey. You’d always hail the band’s leader.

Your personal camgirl.

—

Breakfast has always been something you’d skip if you could. It’s a pain to wake up so early, and you need at least an hour to be somewhat presentable and another two until you can properly talk to anyone. However, the soon you leave this shitty hotel the better, so you resume sitting beside Giselle and Ningning while they talk excitedly. You chew on your bread with scrambled eggs with perhaps too much patience, still marveling at how composed they look despite running on 5 hours of sleep.

“So, we’ve got good news. Amazing news, actually. Like, the greatest news ever.” Ningning’s nearly jumping in her seat, her eyes darting from you, then Giselle, Minjeong, and finally to Karina multiple times in seconds. Yizhuo plays with her hands, nudging Karina while nearly dying of anxiety. “Unnie, would you please tell them? Go, go.”

The excitement in her tone captures enough of your attention; you, Giselle, and Minejong collectively sit up straighter, exchanging a confused look. The fact that they know as little as you do is comforting, and stirs up a nice, warm feeling of being included within your heart. The girls could be harsh and a little mean sometimes, naturally, but there are times when they’re also very sweet.

Karina laughs, pinching Ning’s cheeks. Even though Ningning pretends she despises it, you love to baby her and spoil her rotten.

“You can do it, Ning.” She encourages her baby girl to speak up, loving the smile that brightens up the maknae’s lips after the command. “Go ahead, tell them what we’re doing next.”

With her leader’s blessing, Ningning lets out a happy squeal and launches herself upwards. The upper half of her body hangs on the breakfast table as she looks around before whispering as if the topic is top-secret.

“So, this guy approached me after our show.” She stops abruptly at your reactions, waving her hands, “Hey, don’t make such faces! He wasn’t a weirdo or anything, I promise. Anyway, he came up and said he worked for AKT Music Ent. and that he liked our music and thought we had potential.” Ningning pauses, looking up to her leader for reassurance. Once Karina nods, giving her a knowing smile, she adds, “And then I told him to talk to Karina, of course, because she’s our leader and all… but basically, he invited us to compete at The Box, next month. Can you believe it?”

“You’re fucking with us.” Minjeong answers, in awe. She looks at Karina, with her mouth still slightly open in shock. “Please tell me you’re serious. That this isn’t a joke or anything.”

Karina has a proud look on her face as she nods. “It’s a thing. We’re doing it.”

“HELL YES!” Giselle screams, laughing loudly. She reaches out her arms and squeezes you and Ningning in a tight hug, her embrace so strong it’s borderline suffocating. Not that you mind— if anything, it fills you with warmth to be with them in their first big accomplishment. “WE’RE PLAYING IN THE BOX! OH MY FUCKING GOD. WE ARE AMAZING!”

Minjeong and Karina laugh at her reaction, just as happy from the news. Taking part in the event is an amazing opportunity for them: the mere thought of performing at the stage is enough to give them goosebumps, both of fear and excitement.

The Box is a week-long competition where the top 3 winners get a 2-year long contract, each signed with one of the Big 3 music companies of the country: SM, JYP or YG. It’s an elite program where successful bands have gained popularity and recognition, like SNSD. It’s set at a big, open area at the countryside and held much like a festival: the event has become more and more capitalized with every passing year. The companies make sure to hold a big show out of the entire thing, broadcasting the events that happen simultaneously 24/7— numerous interviews, commercials are shot by the participants to support the sponsors of the competition, which helps them to make their debut on national television. There are various foods, restaurants and parties being held at all times. It’s also a great opportunity for fans of nugu bands to personally interact with them, and actually super nice to meet other bands and artists. Besides the main goal, being at the event alone is a huge honor and opportunity for the band to grow as artists. They certainly won’t take for granted.

Minjeong claps excitedly. “We need to celebrate!”

“Absolutely.” Giselle agrees, looking in disgust at the men who kept sitting at the nearby tables even though it was still fairly early, and the Diner was still empty. “At home, though. Let’s get out of here, please.”

The five of you exchange a knowing look, collectively getting up at the same time as you grab your belongings and hurry to leave the shitty hotel. Your hearts are filled with pride, and you couldn’t be happier for them.

“You deserve this.” Is what you tell them, breaking the steady silence that reigned in the car. The girls look at you, all returning from dreamland.

Even though their only response is a faint hum, the satisfaction on their faces tells you they needed to hear that. “This is only a result of your hard work. All the hours of practice, the shitty-ass places you played at before, the No’s you’ve gotten… It’s going to work out, trust me.”

Karina’s arms go to your neck, in a gentle caress as she adds, looking at her bandmates. Her best friends. “Y/n is right. We got this.”

There’s nothing they can’t do, as long as they’re together.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine logan seeing you again, pt. 2

logan x reader

summary: In his universe, Logan and you were in love. Then you died. Now he's in a different timeline and you are very much alive.

warning: some deadpool x wolverine spoilers. this takes place after the movie. under 1k words.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The street was typically crowded for a Wednesday afternoon, but the hot dog in your hand lathered away all the annoyance from being shoulder checked every so often. The first bite awakened your entire body, and you felt amorous joy. It was a mild weather day and Wade had given you the task of entertaining his new roommate. Logan stood in front of you, seemingly annoyed at the way you were ignoring him and making love to the wiener in your mouth.

“You eat like a pig.”

“Oink…oink…” you murmured, finishing the dog with another anxious bite. He looked disgusted and you amused, as he checked his watch. “Stop acting like you have somewhere to be, you have nothing going on in your life at the moment.”

“Aren’t you a bed of roses.”

Ignoring him, you wiped your hands off and tossed away the napkins. “So, I personally think this is a major waste of time since I gather, you’d rather just hit up a local bar and gorge yourself into oblivion. But I told Laura I’d at least try to get you to do something fun.”

Logan, being the ray of sunshine he was, grunted but then asked how the young girl was doing. “You didn’t have to take her in.”

The two of you starting, well, just walking. There was no real plan for the day, you just picked up Logan from Wade’s apartment and told the Wolverine he was going on a little walk. Like the good little doggy he was – of course, he didn’t appreciate that last bit, but he didn’t object to the idea.

“I honestly don’t mind. It’s nice having a roommate, she’s quiet though. She’s teaching me Spanish, so that’s nice. Are you hungry?”

“You just had a hot dog.”

“It’s called an appetizer, Logan…I know a really good burger place nearby.”

He said nothing and the two of you fell into a silent pace, Logan feeling beside himself. Even a bit ashamed for stealing glances your way. You looked just like her, you – it was confusing and ultimately, he wasn’t sure what to feel. At the party, he thought he felt something and when he saw you afterwards – helping Laura settling into your apartment, it had killed him. Seeing you happy, like you always wanted. In a small apartment, instead of a huge mansion with no privacy. The X-Men were your family but there had been plenty of times when you had confessed to Logan for some peace and quiet. It wasn’t like you wanted to abandon the school, the people you loved – you just wanted a place for Logan and you. As he watched that day, moving things around for Laura, he felt peace. At least, in this universe, you got what you wanted.

“Logan?”

He apologized. “Burger sounds good.”

The man looked conflicted, and you wanted to make a funny comment, observation but something in you decided not to. Instead, you stole little peeks, he wasn’t as old as the Logan from this world, but he had some miles on him. He wasn’t exactly hard to look at either with that whole hard ass guise to him. Wade had highly under played Logan’s attractiveness and what a petty bitch he was. This thought made you chuckle loud enough to gain a look from your companion. He asked what was so funny, you said nothing.

“So, what are your plans now that you’re anchored here?”

“That would be the million-dollar question.”

“I could hook you up with an old team of mine?”

“Absolutely not.”

You began to rattle off different occupations Logan could take up – line cook, bounty hunter, librarian. The latter piqued your interest a little too much with the mere thought of Logan wearing studious glasses and a gray knit sweater making you warm. “I would definitely read more.”

He laughed, maybe even smiled. “Not a fat chance.”

“A girl could try,” you shrugged, nodding ahead. The diner was in view and Logan followed you across the street. He opened the door, and you thanked him, slightly embarrassed that you were feeling some type of way. Horny? Yikes. Maybe. It had been a while and you hardly knew Logan but that might have been the thrill. Feeling silly, you lead the man to a booth in the corner and you settled across from him. The waitress came over and slipped menus to each of you. Logan asked for a coffee while he gazed down at the limited selection of food, and you asked for a Diet Coke. You watched Logan curiously, trying to guess what he’d ordered. He didn’t seem like the type to be experimental with his meals. So, a burger combo would be the best guess and you were completely right. When the waitress came back to take your orders, Logan ordered a burger combo while you asked for a BLT. He thanked the woman and relaxed against the vinyl booth, looking out the window as people walked by.

“Is it different?”

He answered with a quick no, and you apologized for repeatedly asking that. “It’s just crazy to think about other universes, other versions of ourselves out there. Would it be weird to ask if I looked the same?”

Logan stared at you and felt his heart sink. You were beautiful, you were but he could see the differences between the woman he loved and the woman in front of him. Your eyes were filled with energy, hair a lighter tone in color, skin darker – it was like he was seeing an inverted version of the you he knew. Here, in this world, you seemed more carefree, and he was happy about it. Back home, all you ever did was worry. He never really saw you truly happy and he wondered if it was because he had loved you. In this fuck of a place, Logan and you had never interacted. Your paths never crossed and maybe that’s why you were so content. He managed an uncomfortable smile and shrugged. “Pretty much the same.”

Your face fell as the waitress arrived with the drinks. Logan took his and sipped the coffee, hoping you’d move on. It had taken much effort to even look at you now, his heart racing so fast he wanted nothing more to do than leave. Like a coward, run away. It would be so much easier than facing whatever look was in your eyes – what answer did you want? What did you want to hear? Logan felt like somehow you knew the truth and that this was all just a ploy to extract it from him but then you smiled, and a nerve was hit. A good one that had Logan glancing out the window.

“I was hoping I’d have green hair or something,” you laughed lightly. “Oh, well. Green isn’t really my color.  Listen, thanks for being such a good sport in all this. For that, how about I take you out for some beers tomorrow night? Unless you got something going on? Which we both know you don’t.”

No.

If he wanted to be a good person with his second chance he was given, that’s what he should have said. No drinks, no weird lunches, no stolen glances. He should have never agreed to even see you again, if he really wanted to change then he would have said no. In fact, he should slowly ease himself out of this friendship you were trying to establish, because what good could come of it? Everyone he loves always dies, his version of you did. Right in his arms, the last thing you felt was his warm embrace. That thought alone should have sent him packing but your eyes on him – understanding, the way your fingers played with the straw from your drink in anticipation and the friendly smile on your face, it was too much for Logan. How could he resist?

Was this a form of self-torture?

If so, he was in, but he was going to need a buffer.

“A few beers sound great, but only one condition.”

Surprised, you agreed. “Anything.”

Logan sighed. Deeply. “As much as this pains me, you gotta invite numb nuts.”

.............

leave comment for a tag. (I tagged those from the OG post who seemed interested in seeing a second part)

@pushingdaisies1 @johnnysilverhandeeznuts @murderhousemuse

@carolinameinicke @abysswhiskey11 @weallhaveadestiny

@cosmiccandydreamer @airwolf92 @fidgetingbee

@bananarepublic58 @ilove-sexydilfsnmilfs @an-tkc @wotcherboo

@theslvttysimp @cauqhtz @ittoscumdump @sad0ni0n

@lostinspace33 @corpse-ihte71 @somekale08

@britthiddlesbatch @doradora8008 @aheadfullofsteverogers

@erikaafernns @justkennadi @tinalbion @tomukit

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 16/10✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: i absolutely adore your shadowpeach bio-parents au comics they flow really nicely from post to post, and i looove the balance between angst & fluff i feel as if with shadowpeach, its always either angst or fluff- no inbetween, but somehow you've found a really nice mixture of both thanks for singlehandedly keeping me in the LMK fandom haha

Thank you! Fluff and angst keep going around each other like a microwave ahah

Anonimo ha chiesto: So like with mks monkey form does he have to deal with shedding during summer I think it would be funny if macaque and Mk got fluffier during winter. Wukong wouldn't complain about a fluffy macaque though probably like sleeping with the best plushy.

Oh man I think they do indeed haha. Pigsy would scold MK bc he keeps finding fur hair everywhere in the house

Anonimo ha chiesto: You seem like someone who knows a lot about the LMK fandom, so I must ask where does the idea of Princess Iron Fan and Macaque being sworn siblings come from? Like, is it from JTTW, and im just not aware of it, I'm still trying to learn as much as I can, and I need to actually read the book. The fact that people assume I know a lot about the fandom is so hilarious (not in a mocking way, I'm just very surprised) bc like- I watched the whole show in 1 day, speedwatched Overly sarcastic production recap of JTTW and read half of the book in a week. All of this in July. That's everything that I know from the fandom.

I think it's an headcanon. in JTTW Wukong, Macaque and DBK are all part of the brotherhood so.

Anonimo ha chiesto: First off I LOVE your comic but I have the animal autism and wanted to share some Monkey facts: monkeys don't sweat like humans do they mostly sweat on the palms and feet, areas they have no fur. For overheating monkeys mainly seek shade staying under trees , increase respiration (panting), seeking water sources. Also some species might shed for a thinner coat during summer. Sweating is an exclusively human thing and why humans have been so successful humans are persistent hunters. We would often follow herds for miles waiting for them to tire and overheat while sweating keeps us perfectly cool. Humans are also the only animal to blush. Lol Again no hate love the comic I love me some Flustered blushing gay monkeys. I just have the animal autism and wanted to info dump.

Thank you for the animal fact dump! Those were actually super interesting facts!

@draxeanlxia ha chiesto: Hey question that I have no idea if you already answered but how old is MK in your BIO Parents AU? I know people (usually) believe him to at least 18 due to China’s minimum driving age but others believe him to in his early 20s. Also Mac in your AU said was ‘grown ass man’ during the baby arc. So in your AU, how old is MK?

So. in the AU he's 21 y/o. Meaning that when he arrived to Pigsy door they saw him and went "yeah, he looks around 2/3" and from then they counted on. Buut there's also the thing that he looks a little younger than that age. I wont say anything else.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Who your Favorite Lmk character??

mmmmmmm... MK bc he's monkey now. Before season 4 probably Macaque or Wukong. But I have a "thing" for characters discovering they are actually a different species and slowly gaining new/different body features bc of that, so when I saw him flickering at the end of s4 I flew to a different universe. Literally the whole reason this AU exist is because I would die for this trope

Anonimo ha chiesto: What inspired your Human Wukong & Mac designs? Mostly because my brain looks at Macaque and thinks “Cranky middle aged pirate” meanwhile Wukong’s is “That chill gay uncle” (this is based off of purely looks by the way)

Macaque is drama queen so of course he would wear a trenchvoat during fall. plus he's old inside and outside bc of all Wukong bullshit. Wukong is your friendly neighbour who lives in a sketchy house and survives on peach sodas and chips (oh wait that's just canon Wukong.)

ainnur ha chiesto: You know I like how Wukong in your comic just compare something hot with Laozi's furnace. Like with spicy food and time he help MK created the weapon. Mk: You know Wukong you mention Laozi's furnace a lot. Must really tough 49 days for you... Wukong:Yeah worst 49 years *eating peach* Mk: Can tell- wait- years..? Wukong: Yeah a day at heaven is like one year here or so..Do the math, bud *continue to eat the peach* Mk:.... what..? Wukong just casually and accidently recall his trauma because he thought it never effect him like his other trauma. Also the brotherhood have 49 years to help him but they didn't do anything. "Yeah because normally you would rush into my rescue"

Thank you for giving me this traumatic info I didn't know about. Now I will never look at Wukong the same (why did my boy have to suffer so much)

Anonimo ha chiesto: Macaque: I think I'm in love with Wukong . . . Any thoughts. Chiyou: and prayers you're going to need them.

me too bitch, the fuck

@mirror-queen226 ha chiesto: I agree about the last ask you posted (about Wukong surely wearing a dress on a date), and I just couldn't help but say my own headcanon too (with a little bit of knowledge about the ancient times that Wukong was just a child on the jttw and lmk): I dunno if you agree but okay. Honestly, both Wukong and Mac/Mihou (like i usually call him) does not care about clothes, if they feel comfortable with them, be it for woman or man, they'll wear it, especially Wukong though, I feel like he'd act like a famous diva in a on a runway showcasing new high-class clothes from Victoria Secret, Channel, or something, whilst Mac is much more discreet but not too far from that too. And considering Wukong was wearing WOMAN clothes when he was in the brotherhood in the season 4 lmk flashback, it just made me believe in that headcanon even more :) Also, I am really loving your au, it's just so perfect the way you develop every character slow and patiently, keeping their personalities untouched, not changing but instead expanding and showing them a bit more, how they are really trying to improve (Wukong and Mihou in this case) and how satisfying it is to see. I always rush to see the new updates you post about the Biodads au every time i see too, and honestly, one of the 5 best au's ever, you draw so good too, it's adorable! That's all I wanted to say, have a nice day, drink water and take care of your health! 🥰🥰🥰

Yeah true! Like they are shapeshifter, they wouldn't care what species they are, even less the perceived gender norms

Anonimo ha chiesto: Little question, while the monkeys where at Chiyou's forge, shadowpeach where still sleeping together or not?

They were all sleeping in sleeping bags on the floor (but they all were close to each other.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Generally curious what you think would have happened if MK had not been woken up and the stone wasn't broken what do you think would have happen. would he had grown up on FFM?

Aww he probably would have been raised by Wukong. I don't know if that's a good or bad thing.

@wolfsonic ha chiesto: I have question! Does Rumble and Sabage have sentience in your stories? Like, do they have their own personalities like MK clones do? If yes, what do they think of WuKong and MK? Also, will we see more of them? Cause I'd love Mk to meet them when he wasn't stuck as a cub and not remember.

Yeah I think they have a littel bit of personalities. They like both MK and Wukong, but would also do prank on him.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I think I won't say I'm in love from Hercules fits macaque very well

The little monkeys are the muse doing backup choir

Anonimo ha chiesto: Can we see what a courtnapping room typically looks like?

Courtnapping rooms are made specifically for the courted one, so they are all different. Basically, the room should include everything the courted person would need to live comfortable and also a collection of things they like / to pass the time /love.

It must show that the person courtnapping them is able to provide, care and protect for them. And also knows what makes them happy.

So it can be a huge castle full of jewerly and elegant clothes/ornaments or just a cozy room with some chips and video games.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Is LBD going to be a topic in your au again ?

maybe

@wolfasketch ha chiesto: We need MK interacting with his new found Auntie and Uncle please(we also new to see Red being flustered by MK while his parents are around and PIF being like "Ooohhhh")

We are VERY luky Red Son and MK didn't grew up together or we would have thier parents playing love-matching with them while they are toodlers

Anonimo ha chiesto: could we possibly get a traffic light trio and shadopeach grooming train at some point, i would love to see some bonding time between them all <3 and i would love to see mk grooming redsons hair since there's so much of it

Wait who would be the second person to be groomed? I assume RedSon hair are too hot to touch. (when he's flustered, at least)

Anonimo ha chiesto: So like how does Redsons hair/ fire work. Does it just feel warm to MK and Mei. Will it only burn/ hurt you if he doesn't trust you. Another note it must be nice having two fire demon friends during winter.

I think when he's relaxed, the hair is just- a little bit warm, then with his feelings and emotion it can go up to a bigillion degrees, so it's not harmful as long as he can control it.

[endless-ineffabilities]

Aaaand, CUT! (a Chemical Override minishot)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: I've been watching a ton of The Office bloopers, which inspired this random little thing. This is set waaay back in part 1. Oh, the good ol' days.

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Ewan and the reader film a promo spot for season 2. They try to, at least.

The press day in Paris had been going smoothly for the most part. At least, that was how it seemed. You hoped that you have been able to act smooth, so to speak, having to sit in close quarters with a guy who can make your heart race a mile a minute, and all he has to do is turn those blue eyes in your direction. 

You and Ewan were halfway through your schedule of interviews and promo. But by the time the crew set up for the next clip—a quick promotional spot—you both were running on caffeine and shared inside jokes. 

You couldn’t believe you were sharing private quips with Ewan (Aemond himself!) but you found it easy to get lost in your dynamic. These were the kind of jokes that only made sense after hours and hours of interviews, with lights glaring in your faces and scripted answers rolling off your tongues like a broken record. 

You stood next to him, the House of the Dragon logo projected on a screen behind you. The task was simple: introduce yourself and tell the audience to watch House of the Dragon Season 2 on Max. Fifteen seconds, tops.

But you two had already spiraled into a fit of laughter in the last three takes. 

Somehow, saying the line together, “Go and watch House of the Dragon Season 2, only on Max,” had become the hardest thing in the world.

“Alright, let’s try this again,” the director said, sounding more tired than frustrated. “From the top.”

Ewan turned to you, his lips twitching. “Bet you crack first, darling.”

Your mouth fell open in faux indignation. “Shush. I got this.”

“Let’s see, shall we?” His gaze dropped briefly to your lips before he straightened up, ready to go.

The red light on the camera flicked on, and the cameraman waved a hand as a signal for you to begin.

You barely had time to shoot Ewan a warning glance before you introduced yourself. 

He followed smoothly, “And I’m Ewan Mitchell.”

It was going fine. Smooth, even. So professional.

Until you reached the part where you had to say the final line in unison.

“Go and watch House of the Dragon Season 2, only on—” Ewan dropped his voice an octave, dragging out “Max” in an over-the-top baritone that sent you over the edge.

“Pffft—shit!” you snort uncontrollably. “What was that?” You pressed a hand to your mouth, trying desperately to keep it together, but it was too late.

Take, ruined.

“What?” Ewan crumbles into laughter, his low chuckle infectious.

The director sighed heavily. “Cut!”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, wiping at the tears forming in the corners of your eyes. “We’re never going to get through this.”

Ewan leaned in, ducking his head to whisper, “You’re adorable when you laugh.”

“Stop it,” you shot him a look. Act cool. “You’re distracting me on purpose.”

“Stop what?” he smirked. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Right. Some help you are,” you said sarcastically, though the warmth in his gaze made it impossible to stay serious for long.

“Come on, focus,” he teased, nudging your arm with his elbow. “We’ve got a job to do here.”

“Maybe you should focus,” you retorted, arching an eyebrow. “You’re the one who keeps messing up with that ridiculous voice.”

He laughed again. “What can I say? I thought we needed some extra charm.”

You gasp playfully. “Is that your subtle way of telling me I don’t possess enough charm?”

“Oh, darling,” he said, “I could never say that to you.”

You clear your throat. “Mhmm… okay, well—”

His smirk stayed right in place, as he leaned back coolly.

“Alright, guys, one more time,” the director called out. “Please, just this one. Action.”

You stood a little straighter, determined to get it right this time, then recited your line. 

“... and I’m Ewan Mitchell.”

Together, you spoke in unison. “Go and watch House of the Dragon Season 2, only on—”

But this time, Ewan leaned in just a fraction, whispering right at the end of the line, “Max... or maybe just come watch it with me?”

His breath was warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You lost it completely.

“Oh my god, stop,” you gasped between fits of laughter, swatting at his arm. “Ewan, you can’t say that!”

The director groaned from behind the camera, clearly on the verge of giving up. “Alright, five minutes, people. Just take a breather.”

You were still laughing as you walked off the set, shaking your head in disbelief. “We’re never going to get this done.”

Ewan followed you, his grin softening into something more intimate as he glanced your way. “Maybe we could be stuck here all day together. Would that really be so bad?”

Your breath hitched slightly. He wasn’t looking at you like he was joking anymore. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words got tangled up somewhere between your brain and your throat.

Thankfully, the crew called you both back for another take before things could get any more complicated.

Once again, you took your places under the lights. You made the mistake of catching Ewan’s eye, and the memory of his earlier teasing flooded back, making it impossible to keep a straight face.

Ewan raised his eyebrows at you, as if daring you to start laughing again.

“Don’t you dare,” you whispered through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to laugh.

“I didn’t say anything,” he said, his lips twitching.

“You’re thinking it.”

He chuckled under his breath, his voice low. “I was thinking of something else entirely.”

Your cheeks burned. Before you could even process what he meant, the camera started rolling again.

You took a deep breath and said your line without a hitch.

Ewan jumped in, his voice perfectly smooth and serious this time. “And I’m Ewan Mitchell.”

Together, you said, “Go and watch House of the Dragon Season 2, only on Max.”

You made it. You actually made it through the line.

The director hurriedly shouted a relieved, "Aaaand, CUT!" then added, "Holy shit, you two—with all that flirting, I'm amazed we made it this far today."

[xxsabitoxx]

My Personal Upper Moon 🍆 Ranking

Warnings: if it isn’t obvious already, this post is taking about the Upper Moon’s and my personal HC on their dick sizes. If that makes you uncomfortable in any way, just keep scrolling

A/N: I was actually very surprised by the amount of comments on my Hashira version of this HC post. So I feel a little more comfortable with giving the Upper Moons a go, especially since someone asked if I would do it eheheh. That being said, these men are demons, therefore you may find my size rankings to be a bit unrealistic. But I’m not gonna go crazy and say Muzan has a dick that’s 2 miles long.

This post includes: Muzan, Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza, Hantengu’s clones (Karaku, Urogi, Sekido and Aizetsu), Gyutaro and Kaigaku. And no Gyokko cause that man doesn’t have a dick, period.

In a category of his own: Muzan Kibutsuji

Muzan clearly deserves a category of his own for one particular reason: he’s able to alter his appearance.

Therefore, he’s able to change the size of his dick whenever the fuck he feels like it.

And don’t try and say that stupid cause he can literally change gender and age so changing his dick size isn’t out of the question

On average, Muzan prefers to have a larger dick, mostly because he’s a pussy ass bitch man that needs that kind of confidence down there, if you get what I mean.

Typically soft: 10.5

Typically hard: 11.7

But he can make it as big, small, curved, wide, as he wants

When he wants to torture your ass, he’ll make himself as girthy as he sees fit just to watch you cry and squirm and beg for something a little smaller.

Anytime you get “comfortable” he just increases his girth until you’re crying again. Your pleasure is never his first priority, it’s always his.

1. Kokushibo

Among the demons, it should be no shock that Upper Moon One has always been packing. This man is petrifying so it’s only right that his dick is equally as intimidating as him

Even as a human, this man’s dick was deadly. You can’t change my mind either.

Just in case you’re wondering, Yoriichi is bigger

That’s beside the point, Kokushibo has a lot to work with down there. Whether it’s hard or soft ngl

When soft: 9.5

When hard: 10.7

He’s long, girthy and curves slightly upwards. He’s heavy too, your jaw will certainly hurt by the time you’re done with him.

He’s the type to put a pillow or blanket of some sort under your lower back as he fucks you. Mostly because he’s not clueless to the fact that his dick is big

Kokushibo is the type to ease you into it though, he’s stern but he has a teeny bit of empathy when it comes to fucking you. Unless you’ve pissed him off ofc.

2. Akaza

I know this one is gonna be controversial, especially since I’m putting him above Douma but hear me out.

This man has audacity, which means he got a big dick. No demon is acting like Akaza and having a small dick to go with it. Nuh uh, no sir.

Akaza is sitting pretty knowing damn well his cock is bigger than Douma’s and it actually something Douma taunts him with… which you think the roles would be reversed but hey…

When soft: 8.5

When hard: 9.7

He’s straight, no real curve to him and he has a single blue line going up the underside of his shaft and one that wraps around just before the head of his dick. Like as in the lines that cover his body lol

Akaza is probably the “gentlest” of all the upper moons because of the respect he has for women

That’s not to say he isn’t rough with you, but he definitely cares about your pleasure and feelings more than Douma or Muzan would for example

He’s pretty confident in himself though, at least that’s how it seems to you. He knows what he’s doing to say the least

3. Douma

Alright listen, this man is still packing down there so don’t get mad at me for putting him at third.

His dick is smaller than Akaza’s but not by a ton. Let’s be honest Douma is probably the straightest and gayest demon to ever exist. The embodiment of bisexual LMAO

How does Douma know Akaza’s dick is bigger? The world may never know

When soft: 8

When hard: 9.2

It’s pale like the rest of him, a pretty noticeable curve to it as well. He has some prominent veins because of how pale he is. His tip is like a pinkish gray (idk why I felt the need to include this)

He’s pretty girthy too, so he definitely will make your walls stretch uncomfortably if he doesn’t offer you foreplay

Douma is rough, selfish and truly only cares about his own pleasure but he likes watching you whine and squirm while being impaled on his cock

Douma also has a thing for “belly bulges” so he will fuck you in some odd positions if he means he can see his dick from the outside… if ya know what I mean

4. Gyutaro

Listen, plz just listen cause I promise you I’m going somewhere with this. Cause I can already hear y’all being like ???Scrawny ass Gyutaro is in 4th??? Yes. He is.

Gyutaro got himself a bit of an upgrade when becoming a demon. He for sure does not look like he did a a human. By that I mean he’s taller than he was (even tho he’s hunched)

What I’m tryna get at is demon transformation made his dick bigger and Imma live in my little fantasy world

When soft: 6.5

When hard: 7.2

Gyutaro’s dick is as curved as his spine and as thick as his tiny ass waist. He’s got length but not crazy girth.

Even if he’s rough, it feels good. Like there isn’t a ton of discomfort if he goes in raw with no prep cause he wants to punish you, he’s like the perfect amount of stretch

He’s mean, verbally and physically but at the same time he’s a fucking sucker for your body so he can’t really say much without whining and groaning

He’s got some confidence in his cock but he’s also a bit envious of the other upper moons

5. The Hantengu Clones (Sekido, Karaku, Aizetsu, Urogi)

I’ve talked about my dick HCs for these four in my A-Z NSFW alphabet and I was tryna be realistic. However, when it comes to this post, fuck being realistic.

Sekido when soft 6.2 | when hard 7.1

Karaku when soft 6 | when hard 6.9

Urogi when soft 5.9 | when hard 6.7

Aizetsu when soft 5.7 | when hard 6.5

There is so much to say here but honestly my brain is malfunctioning so I can’t even delve into it

Regardless, the four of these demons fuck very differently and use their dicks very differently

Sekido and Urogi have no curve, Karaku has a slight curve and Aizetsu’s curves upwards

Hantengu himself had a 3 inch dick and you can’t tell me otherwise. Pussy ass bitch

6. Kaigaku

I hate this little bitch but I’m including him so I can rag on his fugly ass. Kaigaku simps I’m sorry but I can’t stand him

This douche has the smallest dick among the upper moons. This is full Kaigaku slander.

When soft: 5.2

When hard: 6

I’ll give him a decent dick tho cause boy does he have the fucking audacity

That’s all I’m gonna give y’all cause I ain’t wasting my time on him GOOD BYE I didn’t even tag is ass

[jackalopenecropsy]

ok i'll indulge myself....

part 1(?) of biker gang!141 and an interesting fem grunge!reader... if u want more

cw; slight mentions of blood

The streets were pretty quiet this time of night. The only sounds to be heard were barking dogs or tires occasionally skidding in the distance. And the teenagers were never out this late in the fall, as school just started or they were working their dead jobs at the gas station or high school graduates pouring the same 5 drinks at a bar.

You liked walking around- even though it was maybe 1 or 2 in the morning- mainly because you had your scary guard dog with you, (who wasn't even a bit scary, he was just a police academy dropout with a fear of cotton swabs and squirrels) but also because the air this time of year smelled the best. It did wonders for your skin and sinuses, so why not? Walking around in the daytime was a lot more of a chore anyways, teenagers skating sporradically with fruity vapes on necklaces or older men just leaving their blue collar jobs for lunch while staring at you with unreadable expressions.

The northwoods, sigh. You'd told yourself that you'd leave it all the time when you were a kid. Over the years, a mix of the economy making that absolutely impossible and an aquirement of taste for small-town life made it a lot easier to accept the impossibility of it. Bartending and eventually being remote in editorial work kept you afloat in the small house you'd been able to buy flat out in the south side of town.

That part of town was just cemeteries and neighborhoods, neighborhoods and railroads, and gas stations and bars. As most south sides were. Another luxury of living where you lived was the copious amounts of streets and drag-worthy strips of old highway that laid for miles in one direction or another.

You used to work as a freelance flag girl for drag racers on some shitty craigslist copy, but quit l because the only racers that wanted you were full of white-claw drunk young assholes rooting for douchebag car modders who compensated for their dick sizes by throttling so hard that the pop of their exhausts sounded like gunfights. It was too loud and to risky and too tasteless.

But in the ends of the summer, it was taken over by the bikers. Not bicycle-bikers, but motorcyclists.

You were absolutely terrible at hiding your drooling depraved stares at every single one of them. The young women in skin-clad leather and red lipstick with matching sleek bikes, the finer-aged older men in their lean-back harleys with bandanas, the cute guys your age in their blackout helmets and their modestly-modded bikes. Oh, the variety, oh the taste. You had once thought about picking up biking yourself, but when you told your friends they all cackled at the idea. You were too absent minded at times; definitely from all the weed you smoked. Only half embarassed, you agreed.

Tonight was no different than the other nights of early Septembers before. Your dog lapped his tongue in the air catching stray dew drops falling from leaves overhead as you took your time walking accross the street. He swayed his tail so hard that you almost got knocked over a few times. The sound of a motorcyle revving in the distance made you slow your speed to a halt, listening intently, shamefully to see if you could get any bit of eye candy while out.

You recognized the sound of the engine, which soon became engines as the sounds came closer.

'Oh... a group of Kawaskis?? No... that's at least two more different motorcyles, but a few Kawaskis.. Do I hear a Harley?'

You blinked to yourself before shaking your head.

'God fucking damnit, you geek. You should NOT be able to tell what motorcyle model someone's riding from the fucking engine.'

Before you can shamefully walk back towards your house, you feel your dog tug harshly at his leash. You try to hold him back, but he yanks with one solid push of his back paws on the blacktop, and before you know it, you're hands and knees down on the hard ground as he's running full speed towards the sound of the motorcycles.

You groan in frustration as you stand up in a small bit of pain, your fishnets torn to shit as your palms and knees are scraped just enough to bleed a reasonable amount for getting launched by a 90 lb dog of muscle.

"Riley!" You shout and run at him, dodging a few trash cans along the street's edge as you do so. "Riley, goddamnit! Come back! Here boy!" Your converse were broken in enough to give you good ground as you chased him, and you almost grab his loose leash dragging behind him- until you trip over your own feet again just before you do.

You stay on the ground this time, unworried for your dog, as he's a big boy who knows how to not get hit by a car or get lost. More focused on the soul-eating embarassment of being outrun by a dog with more anxiety than a war veteran, and tripping twice in the process. You ignore the growing and stalling sound of engines beside- or in front, you can't tell being face down in the gravel- you as you're grovelling.

"Eh... excuse me miss? Are you alright?" You hear a gruff, dark voice mumble from just above you. You whip your head up to look at 5 people in bikers helmets just in front of you, their motorcyles off or stalling as they stand looking down at you on the ground.

"Oh- oh my- uh yeah- don't worry about me I'm great. I just tripped- nothing serious." You wave them off as you try and cover the growing fluster on your face. You stand and shake the dirt off your hands before swiping it off of your zip up, shaking it out of your gloves too. You look up to see none other than Riley, sitting contently behind the man in front of you, eagerly being pet by one of the bikers with a skull design painted onto his helmet and visor.

"Riley!" The biker looks up and your dog wags his tail hard enough to knock the bikers over too, and barks at you. "You are so not going to get any treats when we get home." He whines and continues barking, then twirls in a circle.

"You're dog's name is Riley?" The man in the skull helmet asks- and you suddenly become hyperaware of how all of the bikers are staring so intently at you. And those that have spoken so far have sickeningly thick English accents.

"Ah- yes, yeah. I was just on a walk and I heard you guys from the other street- but he just loves motorcylists so much, he took off on me. Usually he just waits until they pass us by. I'm so so sorry if he got in your way or anything." You scramble to try and seem somewhat normal as you switch between standing like a deer in their headlights, and holding your arms as the wind blew against your back.

"Ain't that a funny coincidence." The biker next to him stated, his accent thicker, and different. Possibly scottish.

"You watch it- It is a good name for a dog like this." The skull-helmet points an authoritative finger at the scot before patting Riley's head again. The man in front of you laughs heartily and takes his helmet off, revealing an older- FINELY aged man with hair in a short, short pulled back light brown and gray spotted ponytail. His mustache pulled down into a scruffy beard by mutton chops, giving him a real grizzly harley-rider look. You swore your jaw dropped when he took it off, and you were quick to cover your mouth when he smiled at you.

"I'm sorry about that miss- You've got a good dog protecting you. My names John Price." He walked up and took your hand from your face, squeezing it lightly. "My boys back there are harmless. You seem to have roughed yourself up a bit." He tilts his head as he leans back and looks you up and down, still holding your hand. Oh how deeply thankful you were that he was blocking the headlights from illuminating your red face.

"Yeah- I'm fine though, really! I just, can't keep up with Riley if I tried." You laugh and tremble a little as the cold air catches up to you. He raises an eyebrow- and fuck it gets to you because it makes him smirk a little bit too.

"Well, no offense but you look like you're in no condition to walk home like that!" A woman's voice comes up from behind Price's. You squint at the light when she comes up, and you see a blonde woman about his age with smile lines and blue eyes that could knock you down to your knees yet again. "My name's Kate, don't let John here scare you, he's just an old man." They banter a bit as you stare into space, begging any ethreal being to show you a sign that this is real life.

'Fuck being bisexual, god hates me.' You curse to yourself as you smile shyly at her.

"We can give you a ride home if you'd want! I wouldn't feel right letting you have to get yourself home with blood down your legs." Price motions with his free hand at your torn fishnets, rocks littering the cuts on your leg.

"Oh- I don't want to impose or anything, and I'll have Riley!" You struggle to keep yourself still as the wind continually stings.

"Lass, you're shakin' like a leaf in this wind." The scottish man shakes his head in his helmet, leaning back against the flat of his bike.

"You ain't getting home with just a dog draggin' you forward." The gruff voice of the skull-head from beside him made you look away in embarassment. They were all right, you were blocks away from home, and you didn't have your phone on you either.

"Um.. If you're sure you don't mind... but what about Riley?"

"He can ride wi' me!" The scott excitedly patted the flat he was leaning on, shuffling a few top panels to show a compartment on the back of it that had a hooking mechanism for leashes. Assumedly he had dogs too, and how greatful you were for it.

You sigh in relief that you wont have to limp home in your misery, as strong as you are, the chunk of you lost twice to the blacktop actually hurt more than you'd ever want to admit.

Before you can take a step forward, you're lifted off your feet and holding the shoulders of Kate. She laughs as you gasp and sets you on the back of skull-head's bike so you can backpack him, right next to Riley in the odd formation their bikes created.

"I promise he's not as scary as he looks- right Simon?"

"I don't bite." He chuckles deeply and you tense against his back as he does so. "You might want to hold on tho', I'm not exactly the easiest ride." You blush, hard as he says it, and the group laughs loudly as they start their bikes.

"Oi, treat her nice Si." A soft voice jeered from the last bike to Kate's right. "Or else I'll have to take her off your hands."

"Nice try Gaz."

"Boys! Quit scarin' her." Price chuckles and lights a cigar as he revs his engine. "Or else she wont wanna see us again. Now where do you need us to take you, love?"

'Ah.' Was all that crossed your mind as you locked your arms around Simon's waist, and you all shot off down the street.

[deadmandead10845]

Brady - Fat2Fit2Fat

(243lbs) Brady works at an insurance agency in Kansas City. He’s far away from everything, and hates his job. He hates commuting and has two acquaintances and no real friends. He’s let himself go pretty badly, but he doesn’t have the will power to hit the gym or change any part of his life. Thankfully, he’s been at his company for 10 years and earns a 3 month sabbatical with full pay to use.

(243lbs) Brady took the first part of his sabbatical to hike in the mountains solo. He stumbled upon what looked like an abandoned shack with smoke coming out of the chimney. He knew nightfall would be soon so he wanted to ask the local if he could crash at their place for the night. He knocked on the door and it opened itself. He let himself in and called.

BRADY: Hello!!!

(243lbs) A mysterious figure appeared around the corner. The woman introduced herself as Cora.

CORA: I’ve been practicing witchcraft in the mountains since I was little and now I am the only one left. Some witch will reveal too much about herself and then she’s hunted by the locals. I chose to reveal my house and myself to you because I can tell you’re not from here and you have an open mind.

BRADY: I definitely have an open mind. I came here to the mountains to find myself. I am on a sabbatical trying to find some sort of motivation.

CORA: What is one thing you don’t have control over that you wish to have infinite control of?

BRADY: *looks down at his soft out of shape body and looks up*

His body has always been a sense of insecurity that made him feel inadequate and less than because he wishes he was fit.

CORA: Nothing with power, career, money?

BRADY: I just want to like how I look and control what I look like.

CORA: *rummages through the cabinet and throws some leaves into what looks like a brewing potion. Once all the ingredients were stirred in, the liquid began to glow a pale orange color.*

BRADY: Is this legit going to help me?

CORA: You drink and find out. Or you can go beg your doctor for Ozempic and forget you came here. At least this is free!

BRADY: I’m not being drugged right now?

CORA: You are, just not a bad kind.

BRADY: *takes the vial of orange liquid and drinks it*

CORA: How do you wish to look?

BRADY: I just want to lose like 75 pounds.

(165lbs) Brady’s pants fell down immediately and his blue polo shirt wore him like a dress.

BRADY: Holy shit I must be hallucinating.

CORA: You’re not but I figured you’d have this reaction. Sleep it off.

Cora snapped her fingers and Brady’s vision blacked out.

—

Brady woke up in his hotel room down at the base of the mountain. He walked to the bathroom and sure enough he was completely thin. He went to put on an outfit and quickly realized nothing in his suitcase would fit him. Everything he had was a 40” waist and all his shirts were XL. He ran through the closest Walmart holding his shorts bunched up in his hand hoping he wouldn’t drop them and bought a new pair of 30” waist shorts. He was so happy.

After his 3 months concluded, he returned to Missouri and submitted his 2 week notice. He wanted a fresh start where he could show off his new skinny body and get laid for once. He was a gay man living in the Midwest with approximately 5 blank Grindr profiles within a 25 mile radius.

(149lbs) Brady packed up all his belongings and moved to Miami. He looked in the mirror and audibly said “I wish I was a twink.” And in the blink of an eye another 15 pounds disappeared off his body. He met Javi at Twist, the local gay club near his apartment. After almost 2 years, the two fell in love and became inseparable and lived together. Javi told Brady he should start going to the gym and getting big arms and a six pack because he wasn’t super into twinks. Brady quietly looked at himself in the bathroom mirror once or twice a week asking for just 1 pound more trying to subtly get larger for Javi without alerting him to his powers given to him by the witch.

(195lbs) Brady had gotten extremely fit and did no work for it. The potion he took two years ago was unbelievable. Javi loved Brady’s new extremely fit body and Brady loved the attention. Brady however, wasn’t sure he loved how he looked. Javi was going away on business to Houston for a month, so Brady booked himself a trip to Hawaii by himself to hopefully ground himself.

(210lbs) Brady wished another 15 pounds of muscle onto his body before he left for Hawaii. He wanted to look his best for the beach so he could post photos of his body online for attention. He wasn’t the happiest, so the online attention helped. Once he landed in Hawaii he took the private boat to the small isolated island resort he had booked.

(175lbs) Brady hated how he looked so he wished 30 pounds off his body because he thought a leaner look would suit him and he tried to walk around the beach and feel comfortable but he really wasn’t sure why he wasn’t comfortable with himself. Brady had an idea, he went to the surf shop in the lobby and bought himself a pair of 2XL swim trunks and went up to his room. He bought himself a case of beers and drank away. He got in the mirror looked at himself and asked for a dad bod.

(280lbs) Brady, still very much in shape but much larger (100lbs larger to be exact) walked down the beach with his beer gut and massive arms. He was happy. He actually liked how he looked. No one recognized him from earlier and all the other guests just thought he was a new arrival to the resort. Brady went back to the surf shop and bought a 2XL Hawaiian shirt before returning home to Florida.

(305lbs) Brady was a huge guy. He wished himself even bigger and squeezed himself into the premium economy seat he booked on points and flew home to Florida. He spent nearly 12 hours total on the plane and when he walked in the door felt like everything was all wrong. He was skinny Brady in Florida, not big and beefy. Javi was due to arrive at any minute. When Brady heard the lock turning, he ran to the bathroom and wished his body back to his 195lb self.

Javi found the 2XL shirts and asked and Brady told him he was trying oversized fashion and didn’t like it, so he threw the shirt away. Brady couldn’t stop thinking about his little escape he had in Hawaii and after a few months went back to the bathroom and wished to be a bit bigger. Javi hated it so much. Javi kept telling Brady to hit the treadmill and to eat less.

(243lbs) Brady was back at the same weight he was before he met Cora the witch. However, he had so much muscle on his body he was a lot smaller than Javi still hated it. Brady loved his small belly and missed playing with the belly he once had when he was an insurance agent back in Missouri. The two attended couple’s therapy to no avail. Ultimately, it let to Brady and Javi breaking up. Javi kicked Brady out of the apartment. Just to get back at Javi, Brady lost all the weight before coming to the apartment to collect his belongings.

Brady needed a new start so he called one of his buddies in New York who was starting a boutique insurance agency and cofounded it with him.

(327lbs) Brady wanted a fresh start in New York so he bought a 3XL hoodie and sweat at the last Walmart before the Holland tunnel, and sat in traffic looking in the mirror and wished to be fat. He’d never been as big as he was now. He watched his body tighten the dress of a hoodie he had put on and fill it out. Compared to last week in Miami, he was completely unrecognizable. He was truly starting over. Once he showered in his apartment he got a look at his new fat body covered in stretch marks and rolls. Brady was generally happy with his size. The only drawback and he couldn’t find much clothing in the city stores that fit him well so he was barely able to dress well.

(327lbs) Four years went by and Brady’s joint venture had taken off. He was able to buy an apartment and afford more than ever. He seemed very content. He was overworked. One fateful day on the train he dozed off. In his dream he was even fatter than he is now. The dream was so vivid he could feel his body sloshing with every step.. when in reality the jerky subway train was sloshing him around. He missed his stop and rode the train to the end asleep. In the dream, Brady said he wanted to get fatter and…

(415lbs) He woke up. His shirt had ridden up his entire belly and his pants completely ripped. He was huge. Brady embarrassed walked to the next departing train that would get him home attracting the stares of everyone for the lack of clothing he had one, especially for his size. Brady decided to take several months remote from work after that, to give his business partner a believable timeline for his nearly 100lb weight gain.

(415lbs) Brady went to Industry, a New York gay bar and opened up his shirt in hopes he would find a chub chaser. Unfortunately he just got stares.

(451lbs) Brady had to get an entire new suit made for him because of his sheer girth. His seamstress couldn’t believe the size of him. She had made him his suit four years ago when he weighed more than a hundred pounds less. Brady knew it wasn’t going to last long because he planned to put a little more weight on. His business partner couldn’t believe the size of him either. Brady needed to remove the armrests on his desk chair so he could fit.

(485lbs) By the summer, Brady had willed another 35lbs onto his body. He attended a big party on Fire Island having fun with his friends. All of the sudden he saw a familiar face.

Javi.

BRADY: Javi???

JAVI: Hiiii…. Have we met?

BRADY: Javi it’s me

JAVI: Where have we met you look so familiar??

BRADY: It’s me, Brady

JAVI: Brady who?

BRADY: Your ex boyfriend.

JAVI: There is just no way. I thought you lost all the weight you put on.

BRADY: Then I gained it back, and then some

JAVI: Holy shit Brady you look awful, do you need me to get you a nutritionist? I am worried.

BRADY: No not at all. I am super happy the way I look.

JAVI: Weren’t you happy when half of Miami wanted to f*ck you?

BRADY: No, but I am happy now.

JAVI: Can I ask how much…

BRADY: How much I weigh?

JAVI: ….

BRADY: Four Hundred Eighty Five pounds last I checked. I don’t really fluctuate.

JAVI: God, this is just insane to me..

Javi walked away.

About 10 minutes later, Javi’s friend Andres walked by and…

ANDRES: Brady?

BRADY: Andres long time no see

ANDRES: I’m sorry Javi said all that… he’s just insecure and projecting on you.

BRADY: Yeah that’s why we broke up all those years ago.

ANDRES: Well, let me tell you. I like the change

Andres grabbed Brady’s belly from underneath and leaned in and kissed Brady on the cheek. He began to walk away.

BRADY: Wait a second, Andres!

Brady grabbed Andres’s hand and pulled him back for a real kiss. Andres’s hand found its way back to under Brady’s belly jiggling it while the pair made out.

Javi watched from a distance fuming with anger.

BRADY: Does a guy like me get to ask you for your number?

ANDRES: Definitely.

Javi walked over

JAVI: Wow Andres making out with my fat ex in front of me is really classy.

ANDRES: Sorry you’re too superficial to understand what a big guy can give you.

(508lbs) After texting for weeks, Andres invited Brady to go golfing with his friend.

ANDRES: Hey big fella.

BRADY: Hey handsome, ready to play?

ANDRES: Yes it’s been a while.

BRADY: It’s been too long for me too.

ANDRES: Shirt’s a bit small Brady…

Brady, embarrassed tried to pull the shirt down over his belly. He knew it was way too small but wanted to test Andres.

BRADY: Wow, I seem to have grown out of it…

ANDRES: Been a while since you wore it?

BRADY: I think this fit me when we met a few weeks ago.

ANDRES: Are you going to try to tell me it shrunk in the wash then?

BRADY: No, I just have put on about 25 pounds since that pool party and haven’t bothered to go shopping.

ANDRES: Wha— … how?

BRADY: Guess I’ve been hungry

Andres knew that Brady was the man for him in that moment. The two began dating.

(528lbs) Brady had gotten into the bad habit of putting 15lbs on every time he was going to be seen at an event to show that he was a growing man. He attended one of his friend’s backyard weddings and knocked over one of the displays with his huge belly.

Everyone who saw him at this point was asked if he was doing ok or if he needed anything. Some of the attendees even offering to give him a doctor referral for weight loss drugs. He assured them he was perfectly ok.

(600lbs) Brady admittedly took it too far. Brady had weighed in at 551lbs this morning. He had some room in his suit and had a big event for his company. He and his business partner were announcing the sale of their company to a big insurance company. He stood on the scale and watched the number go up until he hit 600lbs on the dot.

He was now basically 75lbs heavier than he was 4 months ago. After the sale of his company, Brady was to retire with enough money for him and his grandchildren (if he ever had any) to live comfortably.

When he got home, he totally forgot he would be facing Andres.

ANDRES: Brady…

BRADY: Hey honey.

ANDRES: Something is different

BRADY: What happened.

ANDRES: You look different. Something is just off.

BRADY: I am not sure what you are talking about.

ANDRES: Wait. Is that the suit you had made last week?

BRADY: Yes

ANDRES: Then why does it look like it’s about to pop.

BRADY: Oh yes something is different.

ANDRES: What.

BRADY: I got fatter.

ANDRES: Since this morning?

BRADY: Babe I think it’s time I tell you something.

Brady explained to Andres the whole story about his past life in Missouri. His sabbatical, meeting Cora the witch. He explained how he lost all the weight for Javi. Went to Hawaii and experimented with his body in different sizes.

ANDRES: What do you expect me to believe you have powers or something?

BRADY: Watch this

Brady walked into the bathroom, and willed himself to be a twink again. He walked out weighing 150lbs adorned with abs.

Andres walked to the kitchen and splashed cold water in his face. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

BRADY: I would never tell anyone about this.

ANDRES: You chose to be fat?

BRADY: If I didn’t I wouldn’t be living with the man of my dreams so let’s not.

ANDRES: Ok you’re scaring me you look emaciated.

BRADY: Oh yeah.

The two started to make out while Brady’s body slowly inflated back to 600lbs. Brady’s face filled out and his abs disappeared. Slowly a belly started to form along with soft supple moobs. His love handles expanded outward and his body started to widen. His thighs began to push against each other as they filled with fat.

Andres was so horny watching his boyfriend blow up to such a massive size and came hands free when he watched the fat pad swallow up Brady’s dick.

ANDRES: So how much do you weigh now?

BRADY: Let’s go see

The scale read 600 pounds.

Brady maintained 600 pounds for a while and about a year and a half into dating Andres, knew it was time. He popped the question getting down on one knee.

He couldn’t get back up after getting down which was very hot to Andres, who eagerly said yes.

(705lbs) Brady returned to the mountains. He bought three aur plane seats and filled them up with his girth. He struggled but he hiked his way all the way up to Cora’s hut wearing a suit to thank her for her potion that changed his life.

Brady knocked on the door which immediately opened. His belly knocked over a beaker off the table which led to Cora running into the room.

CORA: How did you get in here??

BRADY: I opened the door.

CORA: How did you find my house?

BRADY: I’ve been here before.

CORA: Who are you??

BRADY: Do you not remember me?

CORA: No, and I would.

She looked down at Brady’s belly.

BRADY: Oh right would this help?

Brady pulled out his phone and showed her a photo of him from about 10 years before. A photo of him and Javi together where he was less than 200lbs.

CORA: What was your name.. Bradley?

BRADY: Brady, close enough.

CORA: Did I do something wrong with the potion, brew it wrong?? I am so sorry!! Let me help you slim down.

BRADY: No, I am this big by choice. I could get down to this weight again any time.

CORA: Why?

BRADY: I was skinny for a while and I just didn’t like it. I was constantly making adjustments to my body so other men would see me as hot. My boyfriend left me when I decided to try out a *very slight* dad bod.

CORA: So you did this? You could’ve been half the size and still been fat.

BRADY: Well some days it just doesn’t feel like enough.

CORA: I never expected you to look like this. I expected you to have gotten massively jacked and been narcissistic.

BRADY: You were wrong

CORA: Very.

BRADY: I came here to thank you. It took me a long time to get up the mountain, but I knew that before long it would not be possible with my size.

CORA: You could’ve shrunken down to climb up here…

BRADY: But that isn’t me

CORA: Well I am happy.

BRADY: Being confident with my size and my body found me the best fiance ever.

CORA: You mean a chub chaser?

BRADY: —

CORA: Right.

BRADY: Well I mean you would have to be to like me at this size anyways. People stare.

CORA: I am staring.

BRADY: Well thank you for doing this for me.

CORA: Any time. Here, let me get you something.

Cora made a green cocktail of ingredients. She bottled them up.

CORA: You two are getting married?

She said looking at the Lock Screen on Brady’s phone.

BRADY: Yes

CORA: Wait until your wedding night to drink this. You both need to drink it for it to work.

BRADY: What is it?

CORA: You two will never break up or fight.

BRADY: This is perfect.

CORA: You also will never get health issues from your weight because you look like a heart attack waiting to happen.

BRADY: Hey!

CORA: So don’t have one before your wedding!

(750lbs) Brady and Andres had a lovely wedding.

The two got married and after the reception concluded, drank the potions together.

(785lbs) Brady loved going out and seeing the reactions on everyone’s faces seeing his size. He would eat for hours just for show and go home stuffed.

(830lbs) Brady was walking through Central Park. Let’s be real, he was barely moving and barely waddling. Suddenly he saw a familiar face again.

BRADY: Javi!!

JAVI: Holy fuck Brady you are huge.

BRADY: I know. Why are you here?

JAVI: I moved here for work. I got a job at an insurance company.

BRADY: You mean the one named after my last name that I just sold?

JAVI: Oh my god..

BRADY: Yup!

JAVI: What's new with you. I haven't seen you since you hooked up with my best friend at a pool party. I haven't seen him either that was so messy and rude of you.

BRADY: We got married.

JAVI: What…

BRADY: Yes we've been married for just about a year.

JAVI: Bet he didn't expect you to get fatter than you already were.

BRADY: He probably didn't but he loves it. He takes care of me and all the things I can't do anymore.

JAVI: I am so glad I left you before this happened.

BRADY: Me too. Next time you see me, I'm sure I'll be even bigger.

Andres walked up between the two of them.

ANDRES: Javi?

JAVI: This is insane. You married him??

ANDRES: Yes.. of course

JAVI: Why did you let him get this big

BRADY: I’ll answer that. He likes his men big, and I wanted to get big.

JAVI: Is that why you tried to get a dad bod all those years ago?

BRADY: Yes, and now I weigh more than eight hundred pounds.

ANDRES: 830 to be exact.

Javi stormed away.

The end.

[astr0n0va1]

𝐌𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 - 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐬 - 𝟒

Previous parts: Teaser , 1, 2, 3

Sorry about the long wait but heres pt.4, and I loved writing this part please share your thoughts. Thank you for your patience 💗.

2,148 words

Monday arrived quickly and as you all made your way into AMMO headquarters everyone seemed to be in a good mood.

“So how was it?” Rita asked.

“Eventful.” You replied while making your way to your desk.

“Damm no details, you don’t even want to elaborate?” Rita said.

“No or at least not right now, maybe during lunch.” You commented.

“Fine but you better keep your word.” She said before picking up some files.

As the day went by, you luckily hadn’t encountered Armando. You saw him walk by a few times and then get called upstairs for something. Everyone watched as he got up and left. Kelly looked towards you, raising her eyebrows, you simply shrugged your shoulders and went back to your station.

“Okay, guys, Y/N and I are going out for lunch. We will see you all shortly,” Rita said, grabbing her keys.

You grabbed your bag and headed towards the door.

“Rita, Y/n where y’all going?” Asked Mike.

“To run some errands,” Rita responded.

“Okay, whatever. Y/N, we start training today at 6, don't forget.” He reminded you before walking off.

Skip to lunch

"Wait, so you guys kissed on the same night he disappeared from the house?” Rita asked, trying to understand.

“Yes, that's exactly what happened and now I’m not sure what to do. I can either ask him what’s wrong which I feel will make me look obsessive, or I can just pretend it never happened.” You say before taking a sip of your lemonade.

“It’s weird but if you like him ask him if you don’t then treat this as a small one-time hookup.” She added while staring out into the street.

“Rita, are you ok you keep staring off?” You state while trying to get her attention.

“I don’t know, do you ever get the feeling you’re being watched, I feel like that right now and my intuition usually doesn’t lie?” Rita explained.

“We can go if you want, just give me a second while I get Kelly’s order. I’ll meet you at the car.” You said before getting up.

You walked towards the register and waited in line while they finished the order. Some girl walked past you and dropped her card holder.

You tried to get her attention but she didn’t turn around, you ended up losing her in a crowd so you looked through the cards trying to find some sort of identification.

Her name was Rosanne Cabral, you admired her picture for a second and then looked for any useful information. You then found her address on her driver's license, and decided that you would go drop it off at her mailbox.

You picked up Kelly’s order and made your way to the car.

“What took so long?” Rita asked.

“They were understaffed.” You replied lying.

You didn’t want to lie to Rita but she was on edge and you didn’t want her to worry more. It was an act of kindness nothing bad could come from it. ——————————————————————

You arrived at the gym a little bit earlier than Mike and started stretching before warming up. Once Mike got there you both got started.

“Okay today we are going to train a little easy for the test so let’s start with push-ups until failure, then we’ll move into the 1.5-mile run practice and we’ll finish up with some pull-ups,” Mike said with an enthusiastic clap.

“Mike, I thought you were preparing me for the test, not war.” You said dramatically.

“Your test is in like 3 weeks. By the end of next week, I’ll have you ready but you need to follow my plan and stick to the routine.” He replies.

“Plus everything you do I’ll be doing along with you.” He said trying to motivate you.

You started up well but by your 30th push, you gave up. Mike just kept going, then during the 1.5 mile run Mike stayed behind you pushing you to go faster which made you hit your time for your mile.

For the pull-ups, you only got to 15 as you were exhausted by then. Mike looked at you as you laid on the floor.

“Girl that was nothing, you being dramatic.” He said while taking a sip from his water.

“Mike, I'm more of a yoga girl, I'm not a gym rat.” You explain while taking a sip from your water.

“Y/n I’m just messing with you, but your mile timing is good, and we will work on the rest. That’s what I’m here for.” He noted trying to encourage you.

“Thank you Mike but I’m debating about taking that test, we have enough people I don’t need to be out there.” You explained.

“What if one day the whole team is in danger, you’re going to have to go out there eventually.” He remarked trying to talk some sense into you.

“You’re right but that’s a what-if thing, I don’t think you all will ever let that happen.” You said.

You both started walking out towards the parking lot. You noticed Armando’s motorcycle still parked at the other end of the parking lot.

“Christine is making dinner tonight. Do you want to come over for dinner?” Mike asked while placing his bag in his trunk.

“Mike you know I never turn down dinner but…” He cut you off before you could finish.

“Great, we will see you there shortly,” he said before getting in his car and driving off.

You decided to just go in your gym outfit since you didn’t plan to stay for long. And you still had to go drop off the wallet too.You made it there 10 minutes after Mike got there, and by then they had set the table and were waiting on you.

“Hi Christine I’m sorry for dropping in your plans at the last minute, but Mike insisted I come for dinner.” You said before hugging her.

“Y/n you’re such a sweetheart, of course I don’t mind you coming for dinner.” She replied while leading you to a seat.

“Did you want to wait until Armando gets here?” Christine asked Mike before setting him up a plate on the table.

“He’s coming late, we can start without him.” He replied.

You felt relieved to hear that, your goal right was to leave before Armando got there.

Dinner flowed well and you all conversed about day-to-day life, your family, and other things. As you all finished Christine started clearing all the plates from the table, and before you went over to help Mike asked you something.

“So Y/n… still no boyfriend?” Mike asked in a curious tone.

You wiped your mouth and responded, “Sometimes our job makes it hard to settle down.”

“Come on Y/n be real with me. You and I know some people in the AMMO squad have had their eye on you, and not only just there.” Mike said.

“The only thing I know you might be referring to is the Louis thing, and honestly that was embarrassing.” You replied denying most things he implied.

“As far as I can see you have some good options. You have Rafe who’d do anything for you, Louis who just happens to be the mayor’s son, and a little somebody I know.” He said with a smile.

“Rafe and I are more platonic than anything, Louis has his head too far up his ass because his dad is mayor, and I don’t know who else you might be referring to. Now if you’ll excuse i’ll go help clean up.” You said before getting up to help Christine clear the dishes.

You helped her clear the dishes and wipe down the table. After that, you started getting ready to leave, and as you said goodbye to Christine and made your way over to Mike he offered to walk you out.

“My bad if I was being too nosy, and overstepped some boundaries Y/n.” He said apologetically.

“Mike it’s ok you have been like a father figure to me ever since I started this job, so I understand where you are coming from.” You clarified.

“Father figure..me? I’m honored. But just remember you’re always welcome to come by.” He said.

You hugged him and made your way to your car. As you walked closer to your car you noticed that Armando had just arrived. He took his helmet off and got off the bike, still not noticing you there.

You gathered your courage and went up to him.

“Hey, Armando.” You said trying to get his attention.

“Y/n” He replied, still not looking at you.

“How have you been?” You asked, trying to ease up into what you wanted to ask.

“Busy.” He replied now, finally turning to face you.

“Umm yeah definitely, I was wondering why did you leave Saturday night?” You asked.

“Had something I needed to take care of.” He replied dryly.

“Oh ok I was just wondering, but I do have something else to ask. I don't know how to say this but I’ll just try to spit it out. “ You explained while trying to put your words together.

He simply stared at you implying for you to talk.

“I just wanted to know where we stood after last weekend.” You asked trying to keep yourself together, and not let your nerves show.

“It was a kiss and we will both get over it. You should just go on and forget that anything ever happened, " he replied, seeming annoyed by the question.

Your throat felt dry and your eyes started to string with the feeling of tears you were holding back. You managed to keep yourself together and respond,” Oh ok Yeah maybe it is for the best.”

After that, you both stared at each other for a few seconds. But then just you made your way into your car, and he walked up the driveway and into Mike’s house.

Once he was out of sight, you started to lightly cry and started driving away. After a few minutes of driving, you pulled over on the side of the road and wiped your face. You sat and thought about it all, but what bothered you the most was how it just changed all of a sudden

How one day you were both trying to open up to each other and he’s just saying it’s best if you both forget everything.You took a deep breath out and tried to calm yourself down, but then you remembered that you still had the cardholder.You decided to drop it off before going home. The drive would help you clear your head and would also keep you from going home and sulking in your bed.

The drive took around 20 minutes from the side of town you were on. By the time you arrived, it was a little over 9:30 and the street was a empty.

It was a nice apartment building, but because the mailbox access was private you had to go to the apartment itself.

You walked up the stairs and knocked on the door. After a few seconds, a girl opened the door.

“Hi, can I help you?” She asked.

“Hi you dropped this earlier today and I saw it on the floor but when I tried to get your attention I don‘t think you heard me. I did have to look at your license to get here so I hope you don’t mind.” You explained.

“Oh my god thank you so much you’re a lifesaver, but it’s all good at least you got it back to me.” She said, expressing her thanks to you.

“No problem.” You responded before almost turning around to leave.

“How can I repay you?” She asked before you could leave the front of her door.

“No, there's no need.” You said trying to kindly deny her generous offer.

“No, I insist I’m new here in Miami and it’s been a rough start. Please let me at least invite you to brunch or something.” She said insistently .

“I’ll accept your invitation but only because I know how hard it can be to make new friends here in Miami. But this is not you repaying me because it is not necessary.” You said finally accepting.

You then gave her your number, and before you left you realized you hadn’t gotten her name.

“I’m sorry but I never got your name?” You asked before leaving.

“It’s Rosanne but I go by Rose.” She replied.

“Ok then just let me know for brunch and I’ll get back to you.” You said.

“Ok, I will thank you so much.” She said before going back in.

You walked back to your car and got in. It was only monday but the week had just started off strong.

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Taglist: @cardi-bre91, @believeinthefireflies95, @blackgirlmagicforever , @bootlegroach , @mentalidrainedfangirl , @lotusunique, @thesizzler , @marissa53115 , @yeahnohoneybye @housewifewithnohusband22

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[the-moon-files]

Wait, quick idea! Twilight looks like the only hylian in his village because everyone else has round ears, so what if he wasn’t as surprised as the others to see their human companion so resilient, but still fairly impressed because of the fact that most if not all people in his village don’t put themselves in as drastic situations as the reader? Or is this just humans from our world?

get out of my head lmao /lh - you, me, and wayfayrr are actually the same person on diff accounts LMAO

im of the belief that (blame @wayfayrr, my beloved) that he knows of humans bc of some in his village but yeah, just not the type of human in drastic situations

(ALSO they wrote me a fun, long, glorious, male reader human space orc au fic for winning their raffle a bit ago, and it brings up their headcanon abt this and i Adore It actually, check it out here pls if u wanna know🤲)

(also if u see this wayfayrr, sorry for the ping, also should i be calling u moss? or wayfayrr?? idk which, i hope thats even ok to ask 😭 i assumed u would call my ass Moon)

Moon: Male-Masc Reader (he/him)

Orbit: short headcanons-ish, rambling mostly

Stars: Twilight Princess Link (Twi/Twilight), mentions of other Links

Comets & Meteors: CWs: none known, & TWs: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

to reiterate what i said up there, in case u skipped it for the bullet points,

i like the headcanon he knows humans, knows some of their quirks, and how they were the first ppl the other hylian villagers called on to help stuck cows or downed wagons, lots of heavy lifting stuff

but he really hasnt seen the extent of real humans, bc the humans who were in Ordon, well, they lived in hylian society,

why would they need the adrenaline to lift a car when hylians have set up whole tools and systems in all their towns to help lift just a full bucket of water out of the well??

not to mention, i think all the humans in his village were older adults? like at least not the age theyd be doing things like parkour or going to any trampoline parks type of age,

id imagine its more like stories talked about amongst hylians how hard humans can go, and even the humans themselves talked abt things like,

“well compared to u hylians, we have stomachs made of molten lava to you guys really, but we never have to use it, bc u know hylian food works just fine”

when Twi asked they would say stuff like that, but as soon as he saw ur human ass just picking wildflowers and berries off the side of the road to snack on? even random grasses/vines at some point (kudzu)?? easily eating Wild’s Dubious Food that's DEFINITELY got monster parts in it???! gnawing on the bone of a cucco and it just breaks??!!! and you look surprised too, thank fuck finally a normal reaction from u- oh my goddesses u were just curious (damn the elders were right abt human curiosity too) **and are now sucking out the marrow and eating the bone-!!!!!!!!!!!!

Twilight’s perspective of you is actually the equivalent of like, reading stories about vampires all ur life, then this new friend you made starts to get allergic to garlic, crave blood, has crazy strength and advanced senses, etc

and he’s just watching those honest-to-Hylia human mythological feats play out in real time in front of him, like he’s the only self-aware character in the story that immediately clocks the really obvious vampire as a vampire lmao

is the first to either 1. start choking on his laugh as he theoretically knows ur about to jump on the back of a lynel/hinox to ride it around and watch as the others come to the same conclusion OR 2. try to Stop you from jumping on said big monster in an attempt to ride it around bc he gets used to ur human BS quicker than the others and can see it coming a mile away now lol

very much so this meme:

(ur welcome i made it myself <3)

anyway id love to rant abt this dynamic

abt both Twi’s shock at you eating peppers like a god has come down from the sky to prove their immortality,

but also poor rancher esstientally humansitting you too lmao

the Chain/Time/Wars absolutely put him down as the resident human expert like: “ok he just drank like, 5? No- Four stop him from drinking more at least- (dual sighs). okay, 6 stamina potions, will that kill him??”

Twilight, saviour of Hyrule, of the Twili, Link from Twilight Princess himself,

has to keep a record book of all the new shit he’s heard/learned about humans in Ordon, what he has actively learned abt ur ass just fucking around and finding out, and the few bread crumbs of information u give him abt ur species

(that rlly just come off as kind of cryptid statements abt u/humanity, or don't apply in this scenario bc ur only comparison is Earth Rules, which honestly scare every single fucking one of them in the same way as walking on Ganon’s lawn or something, like straight up view ur home planet as enemy territory, the Amazon jungle, the Hyrule wilds if you will-)

Twilight also gets involuntarily volunteered for human-sitting duty too

tbh the only person Not allowed on human-sitting duty, when u guys go new areas esp, is Wild/Hyrule

you’d tell him you wanna get inside the guardian robot to operate it and ride it around and he’d probably be in shock you even fathomed something like that, yet also now EXTREMELY intrigued to watch it play out

(they’re both more of a “u wanna jump off a cliff?? that's actually crazy, wait for me please.” he seems to think he can somehow protect you if he joins you? its worked sometimes to be fair to him ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ just not really conveniently when the rest of the Chain are around lmao)

☆

i live btw, ive been writing/updating fics along with life updates (moving states/new job/online class) so a few asks will hopefully be answered over here in the next 2ish weeks

no promises, my life is kinda girlbossing at the moment too close to the sun and i am Nervous abt disappointing u guys

i already feel like im disappointing my other blog bc i haven't posted in forever bc im writing a fic instead of asks during any free time i dedicate to writing for it so :/

pls excuse my super slowness like a package ur waiting for in the mail or smth type of slow

AGAIN thanks for the ask!! i hope this was at least entertaining to read as some addon to what u said, you guys have gotta check out some of wayfayrr’s stuff if ur into this, bc they're the only other place i can think of that's talked abt humans not just being the same as hylians

have a great week!!

Peace out hugs and chaos,

🌙

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Rigor Mortis (part 1)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Prologue, Part 2

summary: After the breakup, you move into a new place.

warnings: no warnings! cheeky bit of angst at the end

a/n: this is me admitting that realistically, miguel would be sick of our shit.

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here <3

wc: 4.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

or in the cold, crisp morn:

"These are the keys," Your new landlord hands you the copies, clinking against each other as you transfer them to a dish by the door. Your first thought is that there seem to be too many for this modest apartment: of varying shapes and sizes, and at least half a dozen. He steps through a wide archway to the kitchen, eerily clean. It's not modern by any means,  the top half of a hulking brownstone some time away from college.

It’s been… a trying summer. Moving halfway across the country with your boyfriend had seemed like a great idea at the time. Younger you (barely 2 years ago) had been enamoured with the promises of city life: fast-paced, bustling, and never a dull day. Naivete and big ideas that you'd been too stupid, or maybe too desperate, to let go of. After being locked in a loop of the same 3 or 4 places, the same dozen faces - in a place as big as this, mind you - maybe your ex-boyfriend had freed you. Forced you from that halfway-home; as cold and empty as it had become; and back out into the world. 

The reality was less than ideal - apartment hopping across the city for the past 4 months or so. You’d seen it all: glorified shoeboxes, fancy duplexes, viewing sublet rooms that were at least a little illegal. A box within a box within a box; coat closets rented out for double your monthly take home; and you had just about given up.

So this place seemed like a godsend: a brownstone, tucked away. Its interior is dated, but gorgeous. It had character: quirks and rich history in the brick and mortar. A fireplace tucked into the corner, window alcoves, wood panelling. Yes, the wallpaper was slightly warped with damp  but it’s affordable - a reasonably priced gem that had made you jump when you saw the ad. With the overexposed and pixelated images, they didn’t do it justice.

You pad into the kitchen, running your hands on the smooth countertops. They’re bare and spotless - suspiciously so. Not many personal items, no fridge magnets, photos; nary a blanket on the sofa or half eaten plate of toast on the worktop. It’s so clean it feels staged, and it makes you squint. Isn’t there meant to be…

“I let Miguel know… he must’ve cleaned up the place-”

“Miguel?”

“The other tenant.” He pauses, boots clicking on the grain of the floorboard. “I don’t think he’ll be back until later tonight. Should give you some time to settle in.” 

Nodding, you give him a small smile, and he steps out of the apartment. Your apartment.

~~~

You fill the rest of day with unpacking, putting some life into the place. You’d visited not long ago, fantasising about how you’d decorate. Something about sharing an apartment with your boyfriend for the past 2 years had done something to you: flattening and squeezing into a space not built with you in mind. How Jamie didn't like things on the walls, or how he needed the space for his textbooks, so why don't you find somewhere else to put your little stories? If his desk took up half the front room, then that makes sense, he needs it for work. But God forbid you needed a quiet space to study; what if the guest bedroom has your shit everywhere when his friends come over? A million compromises that didn't seem much like compromises: you'd give an inch and he'd take a mile. And so, the space to spread your wings without knocking over a gaudy plaque or two was very much appreciated. 

You want to walk around the neighbourhood, map out the convenience stores, bodegas, community hotspots and hubs. Where's the best place to get a drink? The cheapest meal? Your usual haunts were a fair distance away, so maybe you'll make the trek and pick up waffles from Pam's, as a treat. Tired already, you slump on the sofa - a tattered old thing that can clearly take a beating. Looking around the place, something settles solidly at your chest. Contentment, maybe, a strange feeling considering the past few months. This will do, you think. This will do. 

Perhaps it's not a very feminist thought, but you're not thriving . Thriving felt presumptuous, and yet coping seemed too complete a word - its implication too tidy, too neat. A mess, before; better, now…? And it didn't quite span the width and depth of the past few months; how long it had taken for the numbness to make way to anger, hot and intense - its flame fueling many a long night. And yet, maybe coping was just the way to describe your foray into this new chapter: a new year, new apartment, and whatever that brings. You had forgotten what it felt like to be alone; not lonely, but with only your own self for company. Without the ache of another person, for the first time in a while. 

…except, you had a roommate. Which you had known when signing the lease, of course, but it's taken some time to sink in. What that means for you - a new person to tiptoe around and appease - you're not too sure yet. What is he like? He's out late, so maybe a chronic partygoer - sloppy drunk and vivacious, the life of the party. He might clatter into the apartment, chattering and bubbly. What do you know about him? From the apartment, as is, it doesn't tell you much. At first glance, it had looked too clean, but not unreasonably so if he had anticipated your arrival. No, it was the lack of personal effects that confused you. How long has he been living here and there aren't any pictures or knick knacks? To clutter is to be human, you think. And with the front room as blank as it is, you wonder just what kind of man he is. 

It's getting late. Naturally, you do some snooping, lazily padding around in search of life. Onwards and upwards, to new frontiers: the cupboards and drawers in your new apartment. 

He likes coffee, you learn. There's a fancy machine on the kitchen counter, glossy and shiny and clearly taken care of. Little packets of beans and filters line the cupboards, all with names you can't quite pronounce. The fridge is similarly well-stocked, with none of the junk food you've gotten accustomed to in the past few months. Its innards are leafy green and plush; labelled tupperware with leftovers notwithstanding. All the spices in a tray above the oven and fancy knives on the wall tell you he likes to cook, or rather, he likes to eat well. The lack of junk would take some getting used to - maybe he's a health nut? The type to go on runs at the ass-crack of dawn, to blend oddly coloured smoothies, and "reflect" after a long day of… dog walking or something. 

You move on to the living room, running a light hand over the deep walnut of a side table behind the sofa. Again, it's oddly bare. When you tug at the drawers, it's brassy handles are solid. Locked. Kneeling, you run a hand across the larger cupboard door at its base. You pull at it, and it pops open with a click. Inside, it seems empty, save for a dusty box nestled in the back corner. With your top half almost completely inside its depths, you move it into the light. 

It's old, a battered shoebox adorned with coloured sharpie - shaky drawings of flowers blossoming from its sides. The cardboard crackles when you open it. It's full of junk, mostly: half-dead pens, broken crayons, dried flowers, and little plastic toys - the kind you get from cereal boxes and happy meals. And, there's something peeking out. Confused, you dig a little deeper, to uncover a pair of… soccer cleats? They're tiny, clearly for a kid but seem barely worn, with minimal scuffing on the plastic blades. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" A voice from above rumbles, and your head snaps up like a rubber band. You hadn't noticed the door open, and you are met face to face with, who you assume to be, your roommate. 

He doesn't shout: tall, broad, and back straight by the door. He's got a backpack slung over his shoulder, dressed in a crisp white shirt and slacks. His name was… Miguel? Miguel crosses his arms, brows furrowed in quiet rage. Fuck. 

"I was just looking for.. uhh…" 

You know how it looks. It's the worst time for your brain to go blank, and you're left holding the hypothetical bag. You stand up a little too quickly, and smack your knee on the lip of the table. Half of the box spills onto the floor and you dart downwards, embarrassed. 

" Shit. Sorry, let me-" 

He leaps towards the floor, and you're forced behind him, as he scrambles to put everything in its place. You start to help and he stops, stock-still. As if in slow motion, his head turns to the side and he gives you a look that could kill thousands. Retreating, you shrink back, only able to watch helplessly. 

" Chica tonta... ¿se crió en un rancho? ¿qué clase de persona entra en casa de alguien y toca todas sus cosas?" He's muttering something under his breath - too fast and not saying anything you can understand. Pausing, he throws you a look. "...y luego me ve como si yo fuera el que está mal- ojos grandes y bonitos como de perrito pateado...oh dios mío.-" 

[silly little girl… was she raised in a barn? what kind of person walks into someone's house and touches all of their stuff? // and she looks at me like I'm the one in the wrong - big, pretty eyes like a kicked puppy… oh my god-] 

He's gentle with the box, the way he puts it in its place contrasting his mood a couple of seconds before. He closes up the door and you stumble to your feet. In the glow of halogen bulbs, he follows, arms crossed like a mother hen. 

"I think… I think I'm your new roommate?" You say your name and  stretch out a hand, but Miguel doesn't move. You watch as his eyes sweep over your body, shameless. 

"Are you asking, or telling me?" He sighs, pinching at his temples. 

"...Telling?" You offer him a weak smile, and he cracks.

Softening, ever so slightly, he grumbles. "I know. I know. Mr Estévez said you would be in tomorrow, though."

"I like to be early." 

"Right. Well… don't do that. Again, I mean." He clears his throat. "Don't touch my shit either. It's too… fuck , it's too late for this. I'm going to bed."

He kicks off his shoes, and all you can do is watch as he saunters off; the door to his room shutting with a resounding slam .

~~~

His name is Miguel O'Hara - not that he told you that, or anything. He hasn't spoken to you much at all, leaving you to figure out who he is and what he does from vague clues around the apartment. You don't go snooping , learning quickly from previous mistakes; but his full name on a letter slotted through the mail was fair game, you think. The most you've gotten out of him were grunts and frustrated requests to keep to your shelf in the fridge. 

Passive-aggressive wasn't in his vocabulary, you’re convinced. A plethora of dirty looks in his arsenal? Sure. Plenty of vulgar swears in Spanish? Absolutely. Miguel was not, however, passive-aggressive. Just… aggressive. Not angry, of course. Upfront. Abhorred any passivity and indolence: umm-ing and ahh-ing for the sake of it. 

So naturally , you were sent to kill him. 

You tiptoe around the apartment, avoiding him at all costs. At first, it wasn’t on purpose, just the awkwardness of your first meeting bleeding into the next week. But you dodge and weave like an expert boxer -  particularly impressive in the small space. Miguel’s in the kitchen? Suddenly, you’re not very hungry. He’s curled up on the couch for a movie? Wow, look at the time: and you're heading to bed. You can’t read him very well, and don’t trust yourself enough to look him in the eye without fear of melting under his gaze. The few short interactions you have, you crumble; a brush against his shoulder in the kitchen, or legs against his on the dining table. Not that Miguel offers a peace branch, pursing his lips when you’d make eye contact, somewhat frustrated at your theatrics. Call it cliche: you’re avoiding confrontation at all costs. It manifests itself in peculiar ways: the Shower Incident being the most memorable. 

The Shower Incident, aptly named, happened not too long ago. The apartment is old , as you soon learnt, coming with its own plethora of quirks. What you had first taken as character and charm - window seats and wood panelling - also came in the form of a building half falling apart. Creaky floorboards, leaky pipes, and a distinct lack of central heating. The discounted price, that had seemed like a bargain before, clearly lacked some creature comforts… like heating. And a working shower. 

As you’d been in a rush, you clattered into the bathroom; stripping in no time at all. Bare feet on the tile, and you turn the knobs at the base of the shower unit. You’re not going to pretend you know how it works, just yet, but… it’s not rocket science, is it? The brassy spout sputters; but with no luck. Groaning from the pipes makes you jump, before huffing in frustration. This is not the time; late to yet another 9.00am? You want to be different this year: organised, put together, and on time to your lectures. On your tiptoes, you peer down the shower head hesitantly, like it’s the barrel of a loaded gun. With cruel irony, it sputters to life, sending a face-full of ice-cold water your way.There’s a scream, as you scramble at the handles, scurrying out of its brunt; desperately trying to turn it off. 

Unbeknownst to you, Miguel leaps out of his room towards the shouting, with a fumble and clunk of his feet on wooden floor. He’s quick , hand hovering on the bathroom door before you can register it; his voice echoing outside. 

“Are you…” There’s scuffling, which you can just about hear over the pounding of the water against tiles. “Are you okay, in there?”

You wince, stepping out of the shower – legs shaky like a baby deer – as you gurgle. “...Yeah?”

“Can I –” He clears his throat. “Are you.. clothed ? Can I come in?”

You scramble for something to cover yourself, settling for a plush towel on the rack. Wrapping yourself up, you brace yourself for the grimace that's sure to be on his face. Tentatively, you crack the door open. There Miguel is, face knitted with worry. 

There's a flash of confusion at the scene, and then, what you think is relief. Relief you haven't cracked your head open, most likely: the blood would be hard to clean from the grout. You feel guilty, as you've probably broken it, or touched something you shouldn't. The shower is still on; sputtering, starting, and it becomes a strange sort of background music to your silent exchange. 

"I don't know how to use the shower." You say with a small voice, guiltily. 

" No me digas…" No shit, he mutters, face back to the furrowed brow you're starting to become more familiar with. He sighs, easing up. "You hurt?" 

You shake your head, and swear you see a small smile on his face. You looked like a waterboarded rat, probably: big watery eyes and shaking with the sudden cold. 

A mess , he thinks. But not a bad view. 

He's still in workout clothes from his morning run, compression shirt and lazy shorts that hug his ass on; as he turns towards the shower. With some sense of shame, you try not to stare, to not watch the muscles of his back and arms flex as he angles the shower head away from his face. It's not enough that you've embarrassed yourself – twice, in the space of a couple of days – but the fact it was in front of your roommate, who is maybe the most beautiful person you've seen up close. Which, granted, narrows the field; but Miguel is gorgeous, a flash of pink tongue sticking out as he concentrates, wide palms toggling the dial. 

"You need to be careful… push it in slightly when you turn the-" You crane your head towards his movements. "Come closer, or you won't see what I'm doing."

You move towards him, half naked and shivering, trying not to buckle with the heat of his body next to yours. This is what you get for not having spoken to a man since your ex: a tight coil at the base of your stomach for someone that you've done nothing but unwittingly terrorise for the past week.  

He explains, patient and even-tempered; how to use the shower and you half-zone out to the low tone of his voice. There's no malice, or pomp in his words when there are a million things he could make fun of you for - that Jamie may have made fun of you for. You look up, at the sharp lines of his face, and chew at your lip, deep in thought. 

"...and this side is for hot water. Next time, just ask me – instead of almost drowning."

You nod, embarrassed. "Sorry."

"...For what?" He says, softly. "Place is falling apart, anyway. It's not really your fault." You're convinced everything you touch in this house breaks, but with the way he looks at you, you believe him. 

"Just ask me, next time." He echoes and makes for the door, stopping to drag his eyes up and down your frame. Oh… oh. You like that, the way he looks at you shamelessly, practically undressing you. 

He smiles, amused at your deer-in-headlights expression. 

"...I think that's mine."

He nods to the towel wrapped around your body and your eyes bulge out of their sockets. " Fuck , I didn't realise-" 

He shrugs, noncommittal. 

"...Seems like you need it more than me, anyways."

~~~

It's a rough first couple of days, and then a week, and then two. The rhythm is all off: like the jerky stop and start of an old car. He wakes up early to go on runs at the ass-crack of dawn, and you stay up late to finish papers and assignments. He has a job, you think, darting out at the same time once or twice a week in smart clothing and a backpack. Sometimes, you catch him hunched over a laptop or scribbling something in a beat up old notebook. Maybe, he’s a student - even if he doesn’t seem quite like the fresh-faced 19 year olds you see around campus. Although, you suppose it’s not implausible; you were one of the older people in your classes, after all. It’s hard to imagine O’Hara, stony-faced and serious, at a… dorm party, or something. To be that carefree, he’d need to get rid of that stick up his ass, first.

You’ve got a day off from lectures, using the time to catch up on the reading you should’ve done over a hectic break. The list seems to go on and on, already, this early into the year. Internally, you’ve made a promise to be on top of it all - the little hiccup with Jamie, notwithstanding. You’d knuckle down this morning, reading ( scanning) and summarising ( liberal use of the copy-paste function) in preparation for the rest of the semester. Miguel’s locked up in his room, somewhere, so you use the opportunity to spread out onto the dining table.

There’s a knock at the door that makes you look up from the muddle of words on your screen.

When you open the door, there’s a woman there with a notebook in hand. She’s pretty, in a classic sort of way, ginger braids cropped to her shoulders and lips slathered with gloss. Her outfit is relaxed, but carefully curated: a tight jumper and long brown legs stretching out from a black skirt. 

“Hi.” She says, visibly keening. It’s clear she wasn’t expecting you, but she quickly recovers and gives you a blinding smile. 

“...Hi,” Honestly, you’re a little confused. You haven’t seen her around the complex before; so who she was, you hadn’t a clue. Too pretty to be a door-to-door salesman, and too hot to try to convert you to Mormonism, you think. Whatever that means.

You wait expectantly, as a beat passes. 

“Oh!” She laughs, and it sounds like puppies and rainbows, much too bright and airy considering the time of day. It makes her next words even more of a shock. “I’m looking for Miguel.”

With her last words, she steps a little closer; scanning the apartment from her vantage point. Something in you bubbles up, but you try to choke down the laughter. 

“You’re looking for...Miguel?” Even out of your own mouth, it sounds absurd . The man had no friends, as far as you could tell. He seemed like the type to lock himself away in his enclosure, only stepping out for work, school, the bare minimum. In the short week that’s passed, his ‘enrichment time’ had consisted of a dry documentary on spider mating cycles - which had been a shock to walk into, the first time. 

So someone here, at the apartment? Looking for him? Fidgeting, you scratch at your neck. “Uhh, I ca-”

“Sorry about that, Jia. You can have a seat.” His voice comes from behind you, and Jia breezes into the apartment, perching on the sofa. Legs crossed, she reaches into her bag, taking out a laptop and a pen and paper. He’s changed out of his workout clothes, donned in a loose white sweater and casual trousers - relaxed, for once. With a limp thud, you close the door. There’s an odd feeling as you look around at the scene: tension, and you feel like you’re interrupting. Miguel clatters around in the kitchen, fumbling for mugs and coffee filters and God knows what else.

“...was it two sugars, or three?”

“Three!” She throws over her shoulder, tapping away at her open laptop. “I like it sweet, Miguel.”

You squint. He laughs : a small chuckle that comes with a heat at the base of your stomach. Your head almost aches, trying to recalibrate; reconcile with the version of the person you’ve barely seen around the apartment to now - present, engaged, and personable. Exasperated is the only word for it. Miguel O’Hara was, in fact, capable of joy. Dickhead.

He barely acknowledges you, but Jia does; batting her wispy eyelashes in your direction, curious. The tapping stops, and she curls the corner of her mouth up with a hint of a smile. 

“You gonna introduce me?” She calls out to Miguel, and then smiles to you; warm and genuine. It makes you feel a little more at ease. You catch the end of a sigh coming from the kitchen.

“Jia, this is my roommate.” He glances up to gesture towards you. “...this is Jia. I… help her out with work, sometimes.”

From the couch, she rolls her eyes. “He’s too modest. He’s my tutor, technically.”

With that, your eyebrows shoot up. Of everything you’d imagined him doing, tutoring students wasn’t one of them - especially considering he seemed barely out of college himself.

“...Technically?” 

“He doesn’t like to advertise it, because he’s picky with his clientele.” She giggles and he scoffs. You get the feeling there’s a joke flying over your head, just out of reach. “Word gets out on campus that Miguel’s tutoring again…”

“ Vale, vale ,” He grumbles, but his tone is good-natured and light. “S’enough, Jia.”

She gives you a wink, before turning towards her work.

You walk towards your things, still on the dining table. He’s got his head buried in a kitchen cabinet and you look on, wanting to ask a lot of things. The words seem to die in your throat: too big, too small, not the right shape. She's a stranger; that knows where the coffee’s kept and the best spot on the couch. That makes Miguel laugh . You want to ask him about the stranger in your home; but you’re too scared he’d turn and point the finger at you.

He walks to the couch, balancing two cups of coffee. You look back. Next to him, her presence is an oddity - a blip in his carefully crafted universe. With the warm sheen of familiarity, she nudges his shoulder. Taking careful sips, he pointedly ignores her, tapping a finger at her screen - as if to say, pay attention. She smiles, wide; an asteroid across the depths of space, dazzling and brilliant in the night sky. 

The exchange… it makes you think. If Miguel is the Sun, and Jia, a bright body in orbit: what’s your place in this four-walled cosmos? Where do you belong? 

_

_

_

Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka @delulu-dia @melovetitties @yohoe-hoe @acollectionofcells1 @froggi-mushroom @thund3rthighs

@teacoffeeflavored @chuuyara@qiapia@rotten-zombi3@bonbyon @tianyhi @noelsilly @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @peachsteven @thesquidni@fatenpara @verr-uckt @kurakasabe @kamiko32 @mushy-mushroom04@izzys-hawttea@theandromedastar @wicked-futures @truthuntolddd @prettygirlpattinson @hellokittylover202 @angel-eyes05 @lacedinweb22 @starguiders @buggiecrawls @eugeab @tarjapearce @whoreloll @path0logicalpeoplepleaser @ancientbeing10 @shartythefarty@royalhearts

@bonthebunnie @natthernandez @strawberrymiguel @twwcs @mammonispunk @um-well @renn-pumkin-head @ietherealkistar @smallishbook

[mayolive-writes]

The Love Plaza | Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x AFAB Reader

Summary: Needing to take a break from the long trip to college, you and Jungkook are forced to stay at the only lodging available within 70 miles, a love motel. And much to Jungkook’s dismay, there’s only one bed.

Wordcount: 4102

Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Smut, Best Friends to lovers, Oneshot(?)

Warnings: Dry humping, mild awkwardness (these poor virgins), no penetration (this time), They’re so cute and down bad

Minors DNI

A/N: thought this would be a fun writing prompt to exercise my humor muscle. I often feel that my writing lacks comedic relief, so this was good practice! I wanted this to be goofy as shit, because friends to lovers is just that much sweeter when it’s goofy. I do have a couple other WIPs with this couple though!! One that’s fluffy and another that is significantly spicier.

Enjoy!!

The Love Plaza | Moonlight Trampoline Adventure | Labret

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

You must be shitting me.

Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. Jungkook reads the sign in disbelief. The only lodging in 70 miles was a damned love motel. The bright red neon “18+” sign mocks him.

Unbelievable.

"Hell no, I can keep driving," Jungkook turns to you, there's no way you'd be okay with this.

"Jeon Jungkook, we've been driving on and off for 14 hours in a cramped truck with enough leg room for a toddler. We're both exhausted." You flash him a stern look, "we were honked at five times because we were going off the road!" With a light smack of his chest, you giggle, "besides, maybe they have a room with separate beds!" Your voice drips with sarcasm, calm about the entire situation.

Except you weren't.  Inside, you were screaming. A fucking love hotel in the middle of nowhere? This is a sick joke. But despite your inner turmoil, you keep a humored face.

"You're sure?" Jungkook asks again, just to make sure.

Cocking your eyebrow, you give him an incredulous look, "the other option is getting into a crash. I don’t think coffee and 5-hour-energy can't help us now, bun."

He sighs. With every passing second, he can feel his heart losing years of life. This definitely isn’t healthy.

A bell sounds as you and Jungkook enter, catching the eye of a desk clerk. The shabby motel is surprisingly chic inside, with modern hardwood tile, and wallpaper patterned with soft wisteria, giving the space a fresh feeling.

"Hey there! Do you have a reservation?" The smile on the clerk's face is practiced, but falters when he sees the both of you in sweatpants and t-shirts. 

He concludes on his own, no, you don't have a reservation.

As you both walk awkwardly up to the desk, the clerk continues, "just the two of you?"

Jungkook answers, "uh--yeah." You spot a basket on the counter and tap Jungkook on the shoulder, pointing.

It's full of different sized condoms in every bright color imaginable. Pink, blue, orange, yellow, purple, green.

You both hold back silly smiles, doing your utmost to keep cool. 

"And do you perhaps--" you pick up a condom out of the basket and Jungkook chokes. He takes a moment before looking at the smiley clerk again, "have a room with separate beds?"

The clerk simply stares at Jungkook. Separate beds? In a love motel?

There's been very few moments in Jungkook's life when he was truly Flustered.

1. Confessing to Sandy Morrison in second grade. 

2. His first kiss in 11th grade.

3. Figuring out that maybe he wasn’t totally straight.

4. Seeing you, his best friend and crush of at least 6 years,  pick up a large condom, neatly packed in bright neon orange wrapping, and pocketing it for some ungodly reason.

Shit.

What are you doing?

You yourself don't know what the hell you're doing. There’s zero intention in your mind of using the condom, of course--not that you wouldn't like to. But you're just trying to have fun. What else do you do in a love hotel? With this thought, you promptly lose your shit when you sight a shelf near the clerk desk that displays a variety of items.

Lube, lace garters (neatly packed in plastic packaging, fancy!), satin blindfolds, fuzzy handcuffs (red, pink, blue, black, and orange!), and the cherry on top--a brochure of "The Best Positions For A Night of Passion!"

The cackle you hold in makes you shake. You hop over to the shelf and ask the clerk, "how much for these?" Pointing to the handcuffs.

The clerk is now thoroughly confused at the contrasting interests in both you and Jungkook, who is flushed in the face--both from embarrassment and holding his laughter in. "Um... They're all a dollar, the pamphlet is free."

The clerk looks back to Jungkook, "and, sir, I'm sorry, but we don't have rooms with separate beds," leaning forward to whisper, he continues, "if you guys are fighting, take the couch." 

Well, it was worth a shot.

Once you're both checked in, Jungkook is about to walk away. That is, before he sees you go up to the desk clerk with one of each item that was displayed on the shelf. 

Oh. 

My.

God.

The clerk looks at Jungkook, his expression screaming, "dude, I can't believe you wanted separate beds!"

You happily stride beside Jungkook through the motel hallway, kinky bag in hand while he carries the luggage. You must be insane. Having finally reached room 40, you both realize that Jungkook’s hands are full of your bags. Awkwardly, you dig into his front pocket, feeling for the card.

"Um..." you look up when he speaks up, "it's in the other pocket.”

Oh. Oops.

You dig through his other pocket. 

why are these damn things so dee--

What. Was. That.

Jungkook gasps.

You gasp.

Realizing what you’ve just done, you flinch away, “Oh my god! I’m so fucking sorry--" Jungkook is utterly speechless. This night just keeps getting more and more inconceivable. He says nothing as you dig more cautiously and finally yank out the godforsaken key.

One minute later you're finally in the room, with yours and Jungkook’s cheeks throbbing red.

Nice one, y/n.

As you both walk further in, you gasp. All other thoughts vanish at the sight.

Jesus Christ, what a night.

"Oh my god, Koo!" You drag him in faster and he sees you fall into a burst of laughter, and once he sees it too, promptly loses his composure at the ridiculous sight.

The bed is obviously heart-shaped, the sheets are red satin, and the blankets are pink velvet. The mattress is adorned with frilly heart pillows and lacy detailing, with a black headboard screwed into the wall (which is probably for the best).

You both share gazes of utter astonishment, only to fall over yourselves once more. The sheer ridiculousness of it all hitting you full force. Jungkook’s laughter only falters when he notices that there isn't a couch.

This leaves him with two options. Share the bed with you and sacrifice a sleepless night resulting in another 10 hours of hell tomorrow, or sleep on the plush black carpeted floor and spend the next week with achy muscles and a crick in the neck.

He's gonna have to sleep on the fucking floor.

Quietly, Jungkook goes into the bathroom, leaving you to your own devices.

One bed. God, what a cliché. Jeon Jungkook will not be brought down by some fanfic writer’s wet dream.

Despite the inconvenience of the motel, Jungkook is relieved as the hot water spews from the showerhead. He’s needed this all day. Each muscle becomes looser, and Jungkook finds himself relaxing as the sound of water hitting the floor puddles in his mind.

6 long years.

Jungkook was twelve when he realized he had a big, fat, disgusting crush on you. But he knew it wasn’t a big deal. Crushes pass and fade. It’s impossible not to have a crush at that age.

Jungkook was 16 when he realized it wasn’t just a crush anymore. The poor bastard was head over heels. Down for the count. Your smile made his heart burn—he’d do anything to see it. He’d pull up pictures of you on his phone on the rare occasion he couldn’t see you, just to make sure he could at least see your smile every day. He recalls feeling stupid for feeling so fuzzy about you all the time, but what’s shameful about wanting to see someone you love happy and smiling? Nothing.

At some point, it turned physical. Absolute hell. He felt complete and utter shame the first time he touched himself while thinking about you. It was deplorable how badly and how often he yearned for your lips on his body.  

Throughout high school, Jungkook could barely look at anyone else other than you. Others could tell, most didn’t even try making a move on him. Except for his first kiss, taking place after prom in the parking lot. He remembers apologizing profusely to his date the next day, admitting that he just didn’t feel that way about them.

During graduation, he almost slipped. Almost confessed that he wanted to give it a shot. The longing was becoming too much. But no matter how close he came to finally spitting it out he’d always chicken out. You meant too much. And it felt… wrong to spring it on you.

But this? He might break in two. He’s insane, he knows, but that millisecond where you accidentally touched him through his pants almost made him hydroplane, losing all traction on reality.

A knock on the door yanks Jungkook out of his murky thoughts. “If you use up all the hot water, I’ll personally annihilate you, Kookie.”

He can’t hold back a smirk, “yeah, yeah, I’m almost done.”

If hot showers were personified, you’d marry them. Specifically, the ones taken after your best friend, with his scent still lingering. This night has been one hell of a rollercoaster, and you take your time washing away the 14 hours of uncomfortable driving and cleanse your airways. Jungkook has always smelled like home to you. Years of friendship will do that to a person. Not even your own family can make you feel at ease like he does, with the way he shines. Bright enough to feel warm, but not so bright as to scare anyone away.

7 long years.

You were 11 when you realized you had a big, fat, disgusting crush on Jungkook. But you’d had countless meaningless crushes at that age, he was just a crush out of convenience, right?

Wrong.

You were 16 when you realized it wasn’t just a crush anymore. Something about Jungkook’s demeanor with you changed. He was always nice to you, but as Jungkook matured, his rough-and-tumble attitude crumbled away into something softer, cushier, and sweeter. It was unbearable. Whenever he put a secure arm around your shoulder, your heart would squeeze, and then release. First yearning, then comfort.

You wanted him. In more than one way. Never in a million years would you live down the shame from the first time you let him invade your thoughts alone at night. It wasn’t that long ago, really. Jungkook had turned 18, and He wasted little to no time in getting a lip piercing. You nonchalantly said it looked cool, but it kept you up that night.

It was becoming too much, but with graduation fast approaching you thought you’d finally have your out. You’d go off to college, and as much as you’d miss your best friend, you knew you needed to get away, and hopefully the love would fade with time.

Well, that was before you found out that Jungkook was going to the same college as you.

It was pure coincidence.

So here you are. Desperately trying to wash away your increasing desire on both fronts, romantically and sexually.

Regretfully, you step out of the shower into the cold bathroom air. In an instant you’re pulling Jungkook’s stolen hoodie over your head.

The room is dead silent when you leave the bathroom, and you spot Jungkook resting peacefully on the heart-shaped bed. His eyes are closed. It’s moments like these that make you want to give in and just tell him. So what if he doesn’t feel the same way? So what if he doesn’t fight back the urge to kiss you every day? So. Fucking. What.

He’s your best friend. That’s fucking what.

Losing him is not an option.

“Gook?” Jungkook is lightly startled, and you almost feel bad for waking him. “Hey, can you move over?”

“Huh?” He groggily looks around, then realizes, “Oh—yeah, yeah, just a sec.”

With sloth-like movements, Jungkook grabs a pillow and a blanket from the bed and lays them on the floor, but before he can slip down onto the carpet you stop him, “woah, woah, woah. What’re you doing?”

“Uhhh, going to sleep?”

“On the floor? We’ve shared a bed before, doofus.”

“yeah, when we were like, nine.” Jungkook retorts. Please, God. Don’t do this to him.

You know it’ll be hell sharing a bed with him, but you’d feel like shit making him sleep on the floor. “What’re you afraid of, catching cooties? Come on, bun, it’s not a big deal.” It is a big deal. It is such a stupidly big deal.

Jungkook takes a moment to read your eyes, only a feeling a twinge of awkwardness. With reluctance, he moves the blanket and pillow back onto the bed and climbs in first. He can do this.

You climb in behind him, settling in quickly. His back is to you, thank God, but warmth is radiating from his body. You can’t do this.

Deep breaths, deep breaths. Focus.

Focus on the patter of the rain outside. Focus on the whirring of the ceiling fan above. Focus on the softness of the sheets. Focus on the warmth of the blankets. Focus on the smell of the detergent. Focus on the smell of Jungkook’s shampoo.

Wait, no. Don’t focus on that.

Hell freezes over in the time it takes for you to get comfortable.

It feels like infinity has passed by as Jungkook lays deathly still. One movement and he’ll shatter. The bed feels smaller than it looks. The proximity is too much. He can hear your deep breaths, can feel them in how your back lightly hits his with every intake of air. His body feels like it’ll start vibrating. His chest feels like it might implode. His thoughts are spiraling. He just wants you.

Eyes. Closed. Mouth. Closed. Mind. A work in progress. Sheep, count sheep.

1…

2…

3…

Just fall asleep. Please. You tell yourself.

Closing your eyes, you count the seconds as they pass by into minutes. You’re on minute 28 when a haze finally begins to ease you. But some prick outside of your room drops something heavy and you hear them giggling and walking away. You hope they have a terrible night’s sleep. Even if they weren’t planning on sleeping anyway.

Being conscious again, it’s impossible to ignore it. You can’t take it. You can’t. His warmth, his smell. His smile, his laugh.

Him.

Something possesses you. Chest aching painfully, heart beating mercilessly.

You whisper.

“Jungkook,”

“Yeah?” He curses the waver in his voice as your body shifts around to face his back. It takes him a moment before he has enough courage to turn around.

Your eyes.

Your eyes are big and wide, you look scared and excited all at once. “Jungkook, I…”

What are you doing?

You must be insane.

Just forget it.

But there’s no going back.

Do it.

Just say it.

Say it.

Fucking say it.

You like—

No.

He gently reaches for your hand beneath the blanket. The mingling of your fingers calms your mind, eases your breathing. “Thanks,” a whisper is sent across the small distance that separates the two of you. “How do you feel about me?”

Jungkook stares. Huh? That’s all? He chuckles, “We’ve been friends since we were like, four. It’s a good bet that I like you.”

You blink. What an absolute dunce. “No, you stupid asshat, how do you feel about me?” All this courage makes your mouth keep moving, “I mean… I feel something, and sometimes it seems like you feel something too. Can you like, tell me if it’s just me?”

Jungkook’s eyes go wide, his warm hand slipping away.

Oh. You’ve made a huge mistake.

Or so you think before he’s crawling to hover over you, hands beside your head. “You like me?”

It’s your turn for your eyes to bulge, your face burning at the position, one that you’ve imagined at least a million times. Head turning away, you reiterate, “Unfortunately.”

His head falls to your shoulder, “Oh my god. Holy shit, oh my God. I can’t believe this. I can’t believe this shit, holy fucking shit.” You patiently wait for his rambling to stop, but you’re confused now. He’s on top of you. This man is on top of you but hasn’t said anything about how he feels yet.

The only natural response is to flick his forehead, of course.

“Hey, ouch!”

You exaggerate the clearing of your throat, “’holy shit, I can’t believe this shit.’ Isn’t a super direct answer, Jeon Jungkook.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re mean?”

“Aww did I hurt you fee—” His lips touch yours softly, but it doesn’t last long enough before he falls back to his side of the bed.

“It’s not just you,” Your hands find each other again.

A thick silence rests over you, despite your staggering heart. You want him to kiss you again, desperately. You push yourself to ask, “kiss me again? Maybe longer this time?”

Jungkook obliges wordlessly, leaning over to press his lips against yours once more. It’s slow, cautious, unsure. Your body feels tense, making it difficult to feel excited. Not sure what to do, you pull him closer by his sweatshirt, forcing your bodies to touch.

It feels like he’s melting into you. His lips are still shaky, but he pushes forward, placing his hand on your hip as you wrap a leg over his body. Creating even less distance between you. There’s a heavy breath.

“Um… okay, pause.” Your eyes meet. He nods and his fingers brush through your hair, playing with it casually and awaiting your next request. In this wide expanse of time, the tingle of him playing with your hair lulls your mind and heart.  

“Again?”

Third time’s the charm, right?

With less hesitance than before, Jungkook finds your lips again, keeping his hand buried in your hair. This time, it’s more comfortable, and your lips tingle. Unsure of what to do with yourself, your hands grip his sweatshirt even tighter, and you find it in yourself to lean in closer, breath quickening less from nerves and more from pleasure.

How many times had you thought of this? Each scenario being different, passionate and fiery. And yet of the hundreds of daydreams, none of them were accurate. Despite the underlying awkwardness, you wouldn’t want it any other way.

All thoughts drift away when Jungkook’s lips leave your own, and before you can protest, they fall upon your neck. Far more astonishing is when he drags you on top of him, changing your positions.

A quiet gasp escapes. Woah, woah woah, buddy.

But your surprise doesn’t stop him from dragging his lips to the other side of your neck. You feel your legs go numb. With his stupid lips on your neck still, he asks, “Is this okay?”

There’s a lot of fumbling in your brain before you can answer, “mhm… I’ve thought about this a lot.”

“Oh really? How much of it?” This stupid bitch.

“Shut up before you ruin it, just keep going.” You have no clue, but to Jungkook, the breathlessness in your voice feels like kryptonite.

Slipping a hand beneath your hoodie, you jolt at his touch. “How far do you want me to go?”

You squirm, “Um… I don’t know yet, is that okay?”

“Good, cuz’ I don’t know either. We can stop at any point.” Becoming impatient, you only give him a nod before you guide his hand to slip further into your hoodie. The trail of his touch his tingly, unpredictable, exciting. The gentle nature in the way he feels you causes your body to take on a mind of its own as your hips sink into Jungkook, forcing a groan from his lips. “Fuck, do that again.” You follow his instruction, and he lets out another noise of pleasure. It sends a spark coursing through you, leaning in to kiss him again. It’s messier this time, the caress of his hand on your skin making the simple task of breathing complicated. Your hips push down again, and the bulge you feel beneath you makes you gasp. In quick succession, Jungkook’s fingers brush over the tip of your breast, and to your utter shock a whine flows out of your lips. Your legs lose more strength, and you follow instinct. One hand slips beneath Jungkook’s shirt, and the jerk has the audacity to cup your breast in retaliation, dragging another whine out of you. Your head falls to his neck, partially because you feel like jelly, and partially because you want to leave a string of kisses to match what he so generously left on you prior.

With each kiss your hands keep exploring his torso and chest. If he can play dirty, so can you.

Or so you thought.

He pulls the neckline of your hoodie down to gain access to your collarbone before leaning up and licking a bold stripe from your clavicle up to your neck, dragging your body closer all the while. And when he latches on to the crook of your neck, sucking hard and meeting your hips as they subconsciously grind into him, you release a moan.

“There you go.”

You see through hazy vision the smirk on his face. Different from any that you’ve seen in your countless years of friendship.

He does it again, latching onto a spot along your collarbone and sucking, harsh but loving. Easing the sting with another swipe of his tongue.

The room is soon a quiet orchestra of heavy breaths and stifled groans, whines, and moans.

Time feels nonexistent.

“I think I want you to touch me, koo--”

“You think?”

You whine, “God, I don’t know—I just need more.”

He groans, “Fuck, babe.”

His hands securely grip your hips, and guide them to grind down onto him, hard. His sweatpants barely getting in the way.

You gasp at first, but as he keeps guiding your hips you let out a moan, louder than the one before. You cover your lips, not wanting to be heard by anyone outside.

“shit babe, please don’t be quiet, please—”

As the rhythm of your hips continue, you lean down, resting your head beside Jungkook’s ear, hoping that the muffle of the pillows will prevent anyone other than Jungkook hearing you. You let go, letting your moans flow, as his hips meet yours. Each sound you let out into his ear brings Jungkook closer to his breaking point.

“Keep going Koo, I’m close.” You whisper, and the sounds Jungkook lets out sound almost painful.

“Fuck, I love you.” He whines. And with barley another thrust of his hips, he comes undone beneath you. He keeps his grip on your hips, continuing to bring your hips down onto him.

You can barely manage “I love you too, Koo” before you find release.

The butterflies haven’t subsided yet. You’re clean and warm in bed again with Jungkook, hands and hearts intertwined. This time sleep feels more possible, but you can’t help but want to talk.

“Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“some of that felt awkward, right?”

“Well, I don’t think anything is more awkward than when we were forced to take a bath together when we were toddlers just cuz’ we got all muddy in the rain.”

You giggle as Jungkook pulls you in closer against his chest. “Yeah, sex ain’t shit compared to that.”

The warmth lulled you into a comfortable silence. You can’t remember the last time you felt this content, and you never want it to end. Every night this is what you want. Hands fit together loosely, blanket tangled between your bodies.

Jungkook will process with time that this is his new reality. His new reality in which you fall asleep in his arms, in which he can pull you closer, hold you tighter, and play with your fingers as he drifts off into a dreamland that couldn’t possibly match what he has with you. No one knows what the future holds, but Jungkook sure as hell hopes that you’re a part of it.

This shaggy love motel did more good than he thought it would.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[ghosts-to-reid]

Neo Gothic V

Summary: Reader delves into her past, shocking the BAU. Spencer decides to plan evening to distract you, but it doesn't go quite as planned.

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ MDNI, Mentiones of murder, decapitation, disembodyment, genrerally if you cant watch a slasher or a porno maybe dont read this, look after yourselves! Dom!Spence, Unprotected sex (dont do that!), breeding link if u squint, spencer being a cocky shit in bed (did i forget anything)

A/N: Mommy cooked! I spent two days writing this i hope you enjoy

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Finale / Masterlist / Bibliography

The sun was beating down onto you as you shut your car door with a slam. Peeking through your sunglasses, you looked around your parents property, trying to find some sort of sign of life from them. On days like this, your mother would usually be tending her garden, whilst your dad was fiddling with something in the garage. Yet, there was no sign of either of them. You had tried to call a week ago, your usual weekly check in, but had assumed you missed them, assuming they’d gone out. Paying it no mind though, as you had planned this surprise trip already, missing your own misfit parents.

Your mum was an avid gardener, she was enthralled by the beauty of the natural world. She would teach you to appreciate every plant, every bug, and appreciate the cycle of life that was so integral to her garden. She explained in great detail how to care for tomatoes, the importance of gentle touches and how delicate an ecosystem can be, how one small change can disrupt the cycle forever. She even taught you to appreciate the ugly sides of nature, the rot, the decay, she didn’t view this as any sort of sign of failure, only the signs that the cycle of life was turning. 

To no surprise, she was also a poet, your father joked about how she was born in the wrong century, and that she would be far more at home besides the naturalists of the 18th century, to which she’d tease her attraction towards Byron. Her words were always littered with floral inspirations, and her clear love for life.

Meanwhile, your father was far more on the mad scientist side of things, he would tinker away in his garage on cars, or be locked away in the storm cellar that he had converted into a woodwork shop. You couldn’t remember the last time you had bought a piece of furniture since he had done this, he had been carving and building things for as long as you could remember. It brought him joy to create things from nothing.

Deciding they were probably inside, you let yourself in, the door already unlocked. The house had an eerie stillness to it that you weren’t accustomed to. Making your way through room to room, you saw no evidence of your parents. The tv was off, so was the radio, there weren’t any signs of breakfast or lunch being made in the kitchen. A buzzing caught your attention as you looked around the kitchen, a few flies had seemingly made a home in the now putrid fruit bowl. A sickly sweet decay floated in the air, making you unintentionally gag. 

Your unease began to build at the sight, now following your legs as they frantically searched the house. 

“Mom? Dad?” You called, searching the dining room, futility making you believe they may be sitting there. Practically sprinting up the stairs, you threw open room by room. Each as empty as  the last. 

Trying not to panic, you make your way downstairs, heart still beating fast, you think about the possibility of their whereabouts.

Both of their cars were still parked outside, they had to be home. Hell, the front door wasn’t locked. There’s no neighbours for at least another mile or two, and they wouldn’t have walked it. They were fairly big loners after all, they wouldn’t go out of their way like that.

The storm cellar was the only place you hadn’t checked.

Making your way outside, you creeped to the shutters. There it was again, that sickly sweet smell that had lingered in the kitchen, only this time, it was almost too sweet to bare. Catching sight of your mothers garden, it was wilted and soulless, a far cry from the once vibrant display it once was. Petals and leaves drooped in melancholy at their abandonment, whilst her vegetables sat half devoured by the snails and slugs who had feasted on them. The nerves in your body felt stilted as you reached your hand to open the cellars latch, and you were met with a stench of decay the moment you swung the hatch open. Stepping away you gagged once more, bringing your hand to cover your nose and  mouth in disgust.

Turning to the cellar door, you gazed into the darkness,Uncertainty flooded you as you gingerly took the first step down the staircase, then the next, and the next. The stench grew as did your fear. Reaching blindly for the cord, finally illuminating the scene in front of you.

An inconsolable sob freed itself from your throat as your eyes scanned the scene before you. 

Your parents had been disembodied. Parts of them were strung around the room as if a rabid animal had been cornered by them and attacked. It was a gruesome scene, almost mimicking a butcher's shop in the display. Organs were hung from bannisters, body parts partially filled with chunks missing. 

An organised tableaux of sanguination.

Finally, you spotted their heads. Facing you, as if a greeting, placed with a gentle care that didn’t match the rest of the room. There, they laid on your fathers woodwork bench. Leaning one another, as they have done when alive.

Fear had rooted you in place as you took the scenes in around you. The stench burning your nose as flies buzzed and maggots squirmed in the remains of your family, the room a lot louder than you had expected. Finally, you found the strength to flee. There was no sign of another person on the property, you had no idea how long they had been left like that. Springing to call the police, the rest was a blur.

The cops came and questioned you, you were frantic at your discovery. The flashing lights, the ambulances, then the news crews. Police had managed to keep you hidden well enough from them, but you were inconsolable. Eventually, the medics had to sedate you.

The next day, when you woke to the bright lights of the hospital, a nurse was by your side in a moment. At first, you didn’t remember what you had seen, but when the nurse explained why you were there, the memories came stampeding back, crushing you under their weight.

During your stay at the hospital, the police had caught the man who had done this to your parents. He wasn’t some fantastic serial killer as you might expect, but just a drug addict, who had been living in a shack in the forest that joined your property. He had taken too much one night and had a break, finding your parents and believing them to be evil spirits or some kind of demonic threat, he pleaded guilty and was awarded the death penalty. 

There was solace in the knowledge he was caught and put away, but there would still be that inkling fear of the unknown to you. Why, out of everyone, were your parents his victims? Why did he choose them? Why did your life have to be turned off of the rails because of someone else's problems? There was still a lot that had been left a mystery to you.

By the end of your stay, you had to be sedated twice more, and was very nearly admitted to their psych ward for a short stay whilst you regain your composure. Diagnosed with PTSD and Anxiety during your stay, You agreed to therapy sessions with a therapist and taking medication on your return to college.

This is when your fascination with the Gothic genre accelerated, you had found interest in them before, but now it was sparked by another fascination. It was an almost macabre curiosity you had, as if you would find the answers for the brutality of your parents death were hidden in the words. As if Walpole or Stoker would be able to answer why this happened. Slowly, you began to focus more on them than any other genre, forgetting Bronte and Austen, and turning to more darker fiction. There was comfort in the fact that the villain was always defeated, the victim always having a happy ending after their hardship, but you couldn’t believe that that was the end. Where were the people like you? Those left in the wake of destruction, the victims who have to live in the trauma of what had taken place. It was an almost never ending search to find yourself in those pages.

A month had passed before you had to drop out. The mental strain of what you had seen, combined with academic stress was something you couldn’t handle. Your therapist had supported this decision, and encouraged you to take time for yourself, maybe go away for a while. After all, you were lacking the emotional solace you needed right now. Family was lacking, most of your parents family already dead, except an estranged uncle of your fathers who lived in Alaska. He wasn’t ever the most emotionally affirming man.

That was when you decided to move to Virginia. Knowing that wasn’t her meaning, you still rationalised it for yourself. There was no chance that you would ever step foot in that house again after what you had seen, their house was theirs and owned outright, you could move in tomorrow if you had wanted. But the knowledge of what had happened froze you in your tracks whenever you attempted to enter. College was also poisoned, you had become a lightning rod for shallow sympathy. Professors were marking your assignments less harshly, their feedback becoming vapid at best, strangers hugged you in pity, and the looks of despair that many gave you were far too much for you to handle. Now known as the girl whose parents had died horrifically, you decided on a fresh start.

Packing up a U-haul, you sold your car, locked up your parents house tight, and finally, drove away.  Never returning since, never looking back, simply forward into the unknown of your future.

Now, you sat in the briefing room of the BAU, a team gathered around you with almost unreadable expressions as they listened to your story. It was you who had decided to tell the team, after Tyler’s head… Maybe there were connections here that you missed. Maybe the man who had killed your family wasn’t who they had sentenced and now the original killer has returned to finish the family massacre he started. There were too many unknowns. 

JJ knew that your parents had died, but hadn’t been privy to how, she made her way over to where you sat, now with tears falling, and handed you a box of tissues before placing a kind arm around your shoulders.  No one knew what to say, they were used to being able to separate themselves from crimes such as this, but they never guessed they would have been working with a victim of one so closely without even an inkling. Hotch was stoic, arms crossed with a hand resting on his chin, deep in thoughts that gave no allusions to his face. Derek was silently seething that this had been happening to you and they had no idea, whilst Emily was simply speechless, blinking whilst trying to find her words. 

Spencer, of course, was less surprised, but you could see his anguish written all over him. Of course, you had told him they were murdered before, but you had avoided the details. He was shocked at how well you had managed to hide this from the team, and how they had missed this. 

Eventually, Hotch was the one who spoke first.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. If I had known, I wouldn’t have pressured you to help us before-”

“Why did you never tell us, Sweetheart?” Derek interrupted Hotch, his voice stern but soft. He wasn’t angry at you, just the situation. The rest of the team seemed relieved that he voiced this, thinking the same themselves. “We would have supported you, you know?”

All you could do was shake your head, JJ softly dropped her hold on you as you wiped your eyes once more.

“I-I didn’t want to be that person… I’ve been the person before, the person who is pitied… I just wanted to move on, I wanted to escape that… My parents, I love them, I miss them more than I can explain. It’s just that every time I tried to… It’s like this stabbing pain, here, right in the middle of my chest. It aches and aches until it webs out and I can feel every ounce of pain, just, burning through my muscles.” A deep breath “I wasn’t there. The man who did that to them… I just…” And then you were crying again. Spencer quickly made his way over to you before you tried to speak more, shaking his head at the rest of the team before helping you up

“I think the team has everything they need from you right now, let's go grab some air.” He nodded to Hotch before leading you away. Leaving the team in the wake of their revelation.

The team had a mixed bag of emotions, sadness and sympathy, of course, but also anger. Anger that they had been co existing with you for nearly a year whilst you had been silently suffering with this weight on your shoulders, and that they had neglected their own. They’re profilers, why hadn’t they noticed your withdrawal? Things began slowly clicking into place on why you had been so distant until now. You were afraid of living through that again.

“I consulted on that case…” Hotch spoke quietly. “It wasn’t serial, but with nature the locals had asked our guidance. It was random, no premeditation…” Sighing, he stood, turning to the board. Derek and Emily shared a knowing look before joining him. The team now had renewed vigour to solve this case.

Things slowly began to fall into place from there. The unsub had ties in Texas, obvious from the Harley Walls case. Turning their attention to connections between Tyler and her, They also began to dig into your parents' original case. Digging deeper to find if anything had been missed beforehand. They delve into your background more, trying to find anyone who may be connected enough to accomplish this terrible mission.

It was later in the evening now, The team had exhausted you with questions about your past, trying to follow any lead they could, But it was for the better. By the end of the day, the team had built a profile.

“White male, aged 35-50, average height, possibly above average build due to the nature of the crimes. He has an intricate knowledge of both the gothic and Y/N’s life. This may be due to his own research into you. He is a stalker, an intimacy seeker. We believe that he has seen something in Y/N that he wants, he has deluded himself that Y/N fits the trope of a damsel in distress from a gothic novel. He is replicating novels to gain her attention, using her interest as a mode and manipulating the BAU to investigate. He knew where she worked and that we would be called in, that we would ask her for help. We know that he had a partner in Texas, so he is organised enough to plan ahead, and we know he is able to manipulate people. His behaviour is devolving, now directly addressing Y/N with what he sees as gifts. He thinks of himself as a hero, trying to save Y/N. Something has triggered his devolution, and we have been unable to predict his next moves thus far.”

With this profile, you gave the team the three people who may be involved. Your therapist, Dr. Bell, your professor, Dr. Purcell, and your uncle, Kirk Quarles. The team were then off to investigate them further, sending you and Spencer back to his apartment for the night.

You sluggishly made your way to Spencer’s couch, you hadn’t spoken much after you told the team about your parents. He was concerned, he hadn’t seen you eat today yet, he could see your gradual withdrawal through the day, the beginning of a spiral. He was familiar with how they looked, he had been through enough of them himself, his kidnapping and addiction to dilaudid gave him enough to know the signs, even before you might notice them. Spencer sat beside you, you were staring off into the black screen of the tv, not noticing the dip in the sofa beside you. Seeing your dissociation, He grasped your hand in his, bringing your attention to him.

“Where did you go?” He asked, tracing his fingers along the creases of your palm. You kept your eyes focused on the movements of his fingers with a shrug, your only response. 

“Just thinking…”

“Do you want to talk about it?” You shake your head. 

“Just… I had to talk about a lot of things today that I never wanted to touch again… Why me? Why now? What did I do to deserve this?” Your voice cracked lightly, Spencer pulled you into him, enveloping you in warmth. He grasps the back of your head, lightly stroking it, silently comforting you. 

No words were needed for you to know you were safe here with him, that there wouldn’t be a head waiting on the step for you, or that whoever this crazy man was, he wouldn’t be able to touch you whilst you were with Spencer.

“Why don’t you take a bath? And I’ll order us some food, okay? Then we can do whatever you want, we can ignore everything for tonight.” His voice was nearly muffled in your hair, but you nodded into his chest, lifting away from him and wiping your eyes. Making quick work, Spencer goes to start the bath whilst you gather your things, joining him in the bathroom. He was facing the tub, checking the temperature. You could smell lavender and chamomile, and saw bubbles in the tub, you watched as he grabbed a towel from a small cabinet in the corner. Finally, he turned and noticed you, leaning against the door frame watching him. A small smile found his features, as he approached you

“I’ll go order some food” He moved to walk past you but you held an arm out to stop him, pausing for a moment before speaking, nerves beginning to pull at your throat.

“Can you stay?” His eyes widened slightly “I just… I don’t want to be on my own…” 

Spencer blinked at you for a minute, mouth opening and closing, trying to find his words. 

“Is that… I mean… I-”

“You don’t have to get in with me!” You quickly added “Just, sit with me?” 

His mouth shut when you finished. Looking into your eyes he saw that remnant of fear from earlier still hiding, and he couldn’t say no. After a moment, he placed his hands softly on your hips, dipping to press a small kiss to your temple.

“Do you want me to read to you?” He spoke softly, nodding in reply he gave your hips a small squeeze before he let go  “Why don’t you get in whilst I grab a book? What do you want to read?” 

“Whatever you want to, I don’t care.” You hum, he simply nods in acknowledgement leaving whilst you undressed and stepped into the warm water. It felt soothing on your muscles, you hadn’t realised how much tension you were holding until you sank deeper into the bubbles. The smell of lavender and chamomile doing their jobs of relaxing you. A few moments later, Spencer knocked on the door, entering when you answered, his eyes glued to the ground. Though you’re covered with bubbles, he still avoided looking at you until he was sitting, back to the side of the tub on the floor. You moved your arms over the side, resting your head there whilst Spencer looked at you finally.

“I thought that maybe you’d enjoy a romance rather than… you know” He sheepishly held up a worn copy of pride and prejudice. Smiling, you hum a contented sigh. He opens the book, reading from the pages softly as you sit and listen to his voice, being soothed by his soft baritone.

After half an hour, you felt like you were shrivelling up like a prune. Spencer excused himself whilst you towelled off and dressed. As you did, you thought back on your… relationship? With Spencer. He had been kind and attentive from the very moment you first spoke. Never pushing, always gentle. No one had taken care of you like this before, you had never allowed them to. You had wondered why you had allowed yourself to be so vulnerable around him so quickly, but you couldn’t find a clear answer. There was simply just a feeling of safety between you two. 

Finally, you make your way back to his living room, where he is now sitting in his pyjamas. He is scrolling his phone, no doubt for the food he had promised before your bath. You sank down next to him, and leaned into his side, he absent mindedly pulled you closer, arm snaking around your shoulders as you snuggled closer, as if second nature. He was on a food delivery app like you thought, trying to compare the prices between two restaurants. This made you smile and let out an amused sigh. 

Once the pair of you had eaten, a silence settled over the apartment. It was comfortable, as you laid on top of Spencer’s chest, listening to his heartbeat as his arms were lazily wrapped around you, both of your attentions on a documentary that Spencer had chosen. This routine that you had both settled into was easy, no communication needed. It was as if this was your normal, and as you laid there, the more you realised how much you wanted this to be permanent. Spencer wanted to take things slow, and do things traditionally, but it was past that point now. There wasn’t a reset button that would allow him to wine and dine you properly, this wasn’t a normal way to date, but you didn’t care about that.

Born out of something horrific, your connection with Spencer was clear. You wanted to stay like this forever. As usual, it was like Spencer had a radar for when you got lost in your thoughts, as he lightly tapped your back to get your attention.

“What are you thinking about now?” He hummed, brow furrowed with small concern. Blinking softly up at him, you looked at him between your lashes. 

“You…” Was your soft reply, his brow relaxed along with his eyes, his arms pulling tighter around you as he smiled

“Yeah, what about me?” 

“Just about how… safe you make me feel. How much i enjoy this, and how i don't want it to stop...” 

He took a deep breath, smiling as he rubbed your back soothingly “I don’t either…”

“I don’t think you’re going to be able to take me out properly, you know” You let a small laugh out, propping yourself up slightly on your elbows to get a better look at his face. Moving your hand to softly move a stray hair from his forehead “But I’m not upset about it… I’ve liked this…”

“I have too…” He leaned in, his forehead now resting against yours. Both of your breaths were shallow as you stared into each other's eyes “Can I tell you something?” A soft nod from you before he continued “I wanted to ask you out for so long, I had a crush on you from the first time I saw you.”

His confession elicited a giggle from you, quirking a brow 

“You did?”

“Mhmm… I did, that’s why I offered to share a room, I thought It’d be an opportunity to get to know you better. I guess I was right, though I didn’t expect it to happen quite like this.” Both of you broke out into a small laugh, he moved his hands to your hips, whilst you unintentionally moved to straddle him. 

“Can I tell you something?” You smiled to him, pressing your foreheads together once more

“Go on”

“I liked you too…” You felt like a teenager again, giddy over a love confession from someone who clearly already liked you. Still, you revelled in the warm feeling that took over the feeling of impending doom that had been haunting you the last few days. 

“Oh really?” He quirked a teasing brow, you nodded shyly, which only brought a bright smile to his face. “I guess that the room mishap was a good thing in the end then?” 

Huffing a small laugh out in response, you placed a small kiss on his forehead. Resting yours against where your lips had just been. There was a moment of stillness between you, something left unspoken. 

“Why Are we waiting then?” You asked, voice barely a whisper. Spencer closed his eyes and sighed, rubbing his hands up your waist.

“I don’t know…” Was all he could say, his voice meagre as he met your eyes once more. There was longing between you both, palpable in the thick air surrounding you. It was then you realised your compromising position, and you swallowed thickly. 

You were sitting on top of him, legs either side, as he held your hips. You were leaning forward enough for him to peek at your cleavage, when he realised you saw his Adam's apple bob as he tried to look elsewhere. You took the initiative, and kissed him softly.

He was styled at first, unsure of what to do. Finally, his desire won as he began to kiss you back. What started as a slow, tender kiss, quickly turned feverish. Things left unfinished, things that were unsaid, rising to the surface as your tongues began to fight for dominance. Absentmindedly, you ground your hips down onto Spencer, electing a load groan from him. His fingers gripped your waist tighter as he bucked up, hitting between your legs. Now, it was your turn to moan, Spencer swallowed the sound as he pulled your hips down, seeking more friction. 

He bucked against your clothed folds lightly, teasing you, and quickly turning you into a moaning mess. You could feel the wetness between your thighs growing with each buck of his growing member against you, His groans becoming louder each time.

His lips moved to your neck, nibbling at your tender spots. Rolling your hips against his, you began to chase the high that was quickly approaching. Your hand found his hair, your fingers pulling at the strands between your fingers softly. 

“Spencer…” You mewled, causing him to grind against you harder, a loud moan escaping your mouth as his lips clamped onto a sensitive spot on your collar bone. “Im- Im so close-” You were cut off abruptly when Spencer stopped. Eliciting a strangled cry of anger from you in the absence of him. He sat up quickly, and moved you to your back, now straddling you. Your legs are wrapped around him still, but looking between the two of you, you saw his large member through his pants, It caused you whine lightly with want, hips moving to find the friction that they had just a moment ago

“Not yet… I’ve waited too long for this” His tone had changed, voice darker and filled with lust. He ducked his head to kiss you again, he was fighting to control himself, it was clear in his restrained kiss. His hands began to wander all over your body, squeezing your breasts as his hand ran over them. Arching your back, you moaned into the kiss. You felt him smirk against your mouth before pulling away. He looked down at you, a panting mess beneath him, hair messy, eyes blown out with lust. A new side of Spencer was slowly revealing itself to you, and it excited you to no end.

“You're Sure you want to do this?” His eyes wandered as he spoke, taking in your curves, taking in the sight of your skin that was peeking out from your messed up shirt. Nodding feverishly, he picked you up from the couch with a squeal from you before he took you to his bedroom. He softly placed you onto the bed, kissing you as he stood, Unbuttoning his shirt before once again positioning himself on top of you.

His hands began to explore your body once more, now braving under the thing layer of your vest. A gasp escaped you as you felt the cold of his fingers against your skin, but were quickly soothed by the trail of fire left in their wake. You felt electricity with each one of his touches. His hand slowly made its way to the waistband of your pants, tugging lightly to ask permission.

“Yes, please.” You moaned, eager to be touched by him. A small groan escaped him as he kissed you again, his hand sinking beneath the fabric.

He slowly moved his hand to your pussy, moving slowly through your folds as he gathered your slick on his fingers, A cocky small now on his features as he pulled away from your kiss, watching your reactions to his touch eagerly. 

“I’ve barely touched you and your this wet?” His voice was husky in your ear, as he spoke he teased your now sensitive bud, causing you to jerk your hips slightly, chasing the sensation. Unable to speak, he simply huffed out another small laugh “So needy for me baby…” 

He continued to tease your clit, the slow pace was killing you, you needed more.

“Spencer, please…” You gasped, arm moving to grasp his hair once more, lightly tugging at the brown strands. He moaned at the sensation, which made you clench around nothing. His pace sped up for a moment, a loud whine breaking the near silence of the apartment. Smirking once more, Spencer removed his fingers from your clit. Another whine, this time one of dissatisfaction. 

“Why do you keep stopping-” Your complaint was interrupted by the feeling of Spencer's finger penetrating you. His face was filled with pride as he watched you writhe under him in pleasure, he hadn’t even undressed you yet. He started slowly, once more enjoying the view of your face as it twisted in pleasure. You were unravelling before him, and he loved it. Your hands moved to pull off your pants, to allow him more access to you. He removed his hand, pulling your pants the rest of the way off for you. Then, he moved between your thighs, standing with them either side of him. He observed you once more, staring down at you almost intimidatingly, admiring his work. You were breathless, half dressed, in a mess of sheets and hair splayed. He had never seen anyone look so beautiful. His gaze began to make you self conscious, you began to move to close your legs, embarrassed by his stare, but he roughly gripped your thighs to pry them open once more.

“I thought you wanted me to touch you?” He asked, teasing as he sank slowly to his knees. Your breathing quickened with excitement as you realised his intention, legs opening wide for him once more. “Good girl” was all he spoke before attacking your clit with his tongue.

A loud moan escaped you as he sucked on your clit, swirling his tongue against your sensitive bud. It was ecstasy, he looked up to you between his eyelashes, looking almost innocent as he ate you out like a mad man. He added back his finger, pumping in and out of you at the same pace of his tongue. You were so close to the edge, and then he added another finger. Grabbing his hair you pulled him closer, riding his face as you began to reach your climax

“Fuck, Spencer… I'm so close…” He continued his pace, you could feel his smile against your pussy. “I'm gonna… Im gonna” 

His groan vibrated against you, and it sent you over the edge. You came with a loud moan, your legs involuntarily squeezing his head between your thighs as you rode out your high. His fingers slowed their pumping as he helped you work through it.

For a moment, all you could see was stars. You barely noticed Spencer stripping off his shirt, or him unbuckling his pants. He brought your attention back to him when he lightly pulled you higher on the bed, softly cradling you in his arm “You still with me?” 

You nodded, eyes meeting him. His eyes were already on you, they were still blown out with lust, but there was something else. The way he looked at you it was like you were the only person in the world, focus on you completely 

“Do you want to stop?” He asked softly, bringing his hand up to softly caress your cheek, you leaned into his touch before shaking your head now. He let out a small laugh before he moved to sit between your legs. Leaning down to kiss you, the hand that wasn’t supporting his weight reached between your legs once more. Still slightly sensitive, you gasp into his mouth as his fingers begin to play with your pussy once more. After a moment, when he was satisfied you were ready for him, he sat up right. He pulled his boxers down to reveal his member, the size caught you by surprise. You watched as his hand pumped along the length a few times, you swallowed thickly as you watched him line himself up with your entrance, you waited with bated breath before he slowly slid into you.

“Fuck…” Spencer hissed out as he watched himself enter you, eyes glued on the sight of you swallowing his length. It was almost overwhelming for you, you couldn’t control the sounds escaping your mouth as he slowly sunk himself into you, completely filling you up. 

“Spencer…” You whined when he stopped moving, his eyes snapped up from his view to meet your eyes, staring at him with needy desire. 

“Use your words.” He ordered, biting back a smile. He was enjoying making you a mess way too much. You began to move your hips, squirming for some sort of release, but his hands held your hips in place. “I said, " Use your words.” He smirked

“Spencer please…” 

“Please, what?” 

“Please fuck me…” You hid behind your hand, embarrassed slightly, but Spencer knew you enjoyed it by the way your pussy clenched around him. With one last smile he slowly pulled out, only to slam himself back in. You moaned loudly, and he did it again. 

“Fuck!” You moaned loudly, feeling him inside you was amazing. He filled your hole up so perfectly, as if that was where he belonged. As his pace began to speed up, you lack of control over the sound syou made increased. Spencer fucked into you slowly at first, but as he grew needier, he sped up. 

Panting, he leaned back into you, catching your lips in his in a messy kiss, fucking into you like a mad man. 

“Feel so good… You’re so perfect, such a good girl… Just want to make you feel good.” He moaned to you, each word made your pussy clamp tighter around him. 

“I'm so close, spencer” You puffed out between strokes, Spencer didn’t reply, only moving his free hand to play with your clit. 

“Gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my cock?” His voice was dark with desire, you nodded feverishly as you began to peak once more, a loud moan escaping as you finally came.

Spencer continued to fuck into you, that smirk of pleasure on his face once more. He watched you writhe under him as you came, helping your ride out your high as he chased his own.

“Fuck… Where do you want me to cum?” His voice cracked, and you could barely hear him in the haze of your orgasm. 

“Inside…” You muttered, becoming overstimulated from his continuous fucking. A loud groan escaped Spencer's lips as he buried his head into your shoulder, after a few big strokes, you felt him release himself inside of you, cum slowly seeping out of you when he pulled out. 

He collapsed beside you on the bed, and there was quiet for a minute before he pulled you close to him, tangled in sheets and limbs, he placed a small kiss onto your forehead as you wrapped your arms tightly against his torso. 

“We should get cleaned up…” You muttered, not wanting to move from this position. Spencer hummed in agreement, neither of you moving though, there was another ebay of silence.

“So… does this make us… you know…” Spencer’s voice was small, a far cry from the man who had just fucked you silly for the last hour. He was a tender spencer once more. You nodded against his chest

“I think we were a far cry from traditional dating in the first place…” You laugh before he pulls you into a deep kiss, not one like before that was filled with lust, but one filled with longing and love, saying everything you both couldn’t. Afterwards, you both showered together, washing each other gently,, before finally settling in for the night. Successfully being distracted from today, you fell into a dreamless sleep.

Part 6 soon...

Tags: @pleasantwitchgarden @xamapolax @kchv @nymph0puppp