#talk with traits and words pls pls pls

[lemonkennedy]

rare trigger of mine is these left/right brained introvert/extrovert asks/tests. i see one and i want to fold myself outwards like some sock, using the 4th dimension.

[sonnenreich]

[ . . . ] 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐂𝐇 ⸻  a private & selective portrayal of the witch in the woods, 𝖟𝖊𝖊𝖛 𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖘𝖕𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖑𝖊, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒𝐄'𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐍. 

❝ i am needed, i am necessary, i am good, I AM THE SOLUTION. ❞

⠀      ⠀    (  .  .  .  )  born  as  the  promising  heir  and  only  son  of  the  solar  coven,  zeev  was  known  to  be  loyal,  diligent  and destined  to  carry  the  torch  of  their  ancient  traditions  into  the  future.  however,  faced  by  great  danger  of  those  who  did  not  welcome  their  kind  and  driven  by  desperation  and  a  desire  to  protect  his  family,  zeev  delved  into  the  forbidden  depths  of  dark  magic.  despite  having  succeeded  in  saving  them,  he  was  cast  out  from  the  fold,  branded  a  pariah  among  his  own  kind.  the  sting  of  rejection  cut  deep. 

𝖆 𝖘𝖙𝖚𝖉𝖞 𝖎𝖓 : magic comes with a price, the wish to belong, loneliness & isolation, mother issues, grief & loss, deceiving beauty, fear of abandonment & rejection. 

⠀      ⠀     ❝ 𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖉.     ❝  𝖕𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖙.    ❝  𝖗𝖚𝖑𝖊𝖘.     ❝  𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖞𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙.

  ⠀    ⠀   ⠀  ( owner of 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 & 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐒 )

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 : husband hayley enid mike camille nausicaä vika jessie kamania bonnie

𝖎*; ( indie & original witch based on neo-pagan beliefs and modern witchcraft aesthetic, selective & mutuals only, activity varies, 21+ p&mdni, conjured by cherry, this blog mostly runs on a queue! )

[ellecdc]

girl girl hear me out YAPPER GF X REGULUS!! Pls pls pls like u could do anything u wanted with them!!! I have a few ideas (take any or none)

May be she just walks up to him one day like clearly wanting to befriend him cuz she has a lil crush and just starts yapping about how the great hall had her fave pastry for breakfast today and he's so confused but also intrigued and then she starts sitting next to him in classes and asking him to hang out at hogsmead and she just yaps and sometimes she thinks may be he zones out but then he'll bring up this super niche detail she mentioned last time like "hey what happened to that quill you forgot in the potions lecture?"

they r already dating and she worries she's too much energy and talk for him and tries to be quiet and he's just like r u sick? R u mad at me? What's wrong u haven't gone on a 30 min description/rant about ur day

3. May be someone else brings up she talks a lot and Reggie defends her?

you guys really love your bubbly/talkative readers with Regulus, don't you? (so do i); thanks for your request!

Regulus Black x yapper!reader who didn't think he was actually listening

CW: fem!reader, rolling thoughts, brief mention of difficulty making friends, people talking about reader behind her back, swear words (on ellecdc? nooo [sarcasm])

Your family said that you had an incessant need to fill silence from the moment you could talk. 

“If there’s a room with our daughter in it, you can be certain that it won’t be quiet.” Your mum had proclaimed as she beamed at you lovingly one day.

While it was certainly a trait that your family had always found rather endearing, you felt that it made it particularly difficult making friends once you began attending Hogwarts. 

But the friends you managed to make loved you for it, and they had often stated “you can call her what you want but you can’t call her boring.” 

That didn’t mean your other classmates appreciated your stories or tangents, though. 

Which is how you ended up serving numerous detentions for speaking during class or lectures and disturbing the students around you, and how you’d been cycled through numerous seat partners in potions class. 

And that is how poor Regulus Black ended up stuck sharing a worktable with the likes of you.

He didn’t seem to mind, though. And if he did, well, he certainly never said anything about it.

You were quite sure he tuned you out during your rambles, hardly ever sparing you a glance and keeping his eyes trained on his parchment in front of him as he took dutiful notes during lectures.

Couldn���t be you, however.

No.

You were too busy lamenting about the fact that you couldn’t get more than twenty feet to the mooncalf herd up the hill behind the quidditch pitch before they would all run off. They only came out at night, you see, and you wanted to take some photos of them. Some photos turned into midnight picnics, and picnics turned into sharing apple slices by means of throwing them towards the bug-eyed beasts and watching them argue over the slice until you threw another. But even after feeding them forty seven apples and counting at this point (Winky the house elf from the kitchen was not pleased with you), they still wouldn’t let you get any closer to them.

Your next course of action was to try a smellier and higher value treat; you wondered then if mooncalves could have tuna? Tuna was certainly smelly enough. Well, if you couldn’t entice the mooncalves, you’d certainly entice a cat or two. 

You wondered then if mooncalves and cats got along? Kneazles were nearly the same size as the poor beasts, but cats were much smaller. You figured cats would look at a mooncalf the same way they’d look at a goat. 

You’d seen a cat ride a goat once, not many people believed you, though. You’d have to learn how to make a pensieve one day just to prove it to everyone. You didn’t much care for goats, though; something about their square pupils seemed alien to you. 

Which seemed odd considering there were numerous beasts in the magical world that really were quite alien, yet it was  goats that did it for you.

And why were they always associated with the devil? Was it because of the square pupils? Do you think there’d be a book that explained that?

But you didn’t even realise that the period had ended until Regulus stood and collected his books, offering you a curt nod before leaving the classroom. 

Fuck….do you think he’d let you copy his notes? 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Merlin’s tits, she never stops talking! I feel bad for the poor sod stuck next to her; Black probably wants to avada himself every class. You heard a classmate mutter as you walked to your workbench, movements slowed as you lowered yourself into your chair and tried not to let their words hurt you. 

You were used to the comments, you were used to the sentiment honestly; did they think it was easy being you? Did they think you didn’t get tired of listening to yourself too? 

Of course you did, it was exhausting; your brain never stopped moving, and apparently, neither did your mouth.

But it did hurt a little, perhaps because Regulus had been quite gracious about it thus far. He had listened to you carry on about the astrological significance of space waste and how that was affecting the magic of the stars. He had listened to you bemoan about the positive impact that centaur migration had on local flora and fauna and how the fencing of fields and forests was going to cause unimaginable damage to the life cycles of such. He also had listened to your morose mooncalf story and the update the next day that you were able to order cans of tuna via owl to the castle.

And he’d not so much as bat an eye at you.

Certainly he’d have said something to you if you bothered him? 

Although, perhaps this was why Slughorn put him beside you, because he knew Regulus wouldn’t say anything; had Regulus done something to anger Slughorn? Was placing you beside Regulus less about you driving your seat mates crazy, but more about being a punishment for Regulus?

Well, you couldn’t imagine Regulus had done anything bad enough to deserve a full term with you as a potions partner.

No, you decided, you would not be his punishment.

So when Regulus entered class that day, and Slughorn read out the instructions for today’s potion brew, you resisted the urge to speak.

You were quiet when retrieving your potion ingredients, you were quiet as you checked and double checked the brewing instructions, and you were quiet as you waited for the potion to reach its boiling point. 

You actually thought you’d done quite well; you sort of wished you had started a timer, this may very well have been a record for you. 

Well, unless sleeping counted. Would sleeping count as being quiet? Oh gods, what if you talked in your sleep too!? You’d have to ask your roommates.

“L/N.” Regulus called as if it hadn’t been the first time he’d done so. “You alright?” He asked, ducking down in an attempt to meet your gaze as you watched a divot appear between his brows.

“Yeah? Why?” You asked, finding yourself furrowing your brows in solidarity; you found Regulus to be too pretty to look so worried. 

He shrugged his shoulders and straightened up, though the space between his brows remained divoted. “You’ve been awfully quiet, s’all.” He murmured quietly, and you were surprised to see a dusting of pink on his cheeks.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” You muttered perhaps pointedly; his eyes narrowing to match the furrowed brows. 

“Says who?”

Your eyes traitorously darted to the students who had been discussing your habits, and Regulus followed your gaze.

He rolled his eyes and muttered something in French under his breath as he turned his attention back towards your shared potion. “Those tossers are just mad that they have nothing of value to say.”

You more felt than heard a disbelieving breath escape your lips as you looked at Regulus in bemusement. 

He didn’t seem to notice though, as he continued to the next step in your potion and carried on. “Did the tuna work?”

You stared at him dumbly before your brain kicked back into gear. “I beg your pardon?”

“The tuna.” He repeated. “For the mooncalves?”

Oh.

“Oh.” You started, giving your head a shake as you tried to find your balance you had long lost during this conversation. “Erm, no, but I did indeed attract a few cats.”

“Ah.” Regulus offered, smiling at you (or at the expected poof from the potion signifying that the two of you had brewed it correctly thus far). 

“Also, I found out why goats are often associated with the devil, but the book you’d be looking for is Biblical in nature.”

You stared at him with your mouth agape as he continued. “There’s a quote where that Christ bloke mentions something about separating people from one another just as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. They’re used as a metaphor for the ‘bad’ or ‘inferior’ member of any group; it could also be understood as the divide between the pure and the wicked. I say goats got a bad rap, though.”

The next step in your potion brewing process was to allow the potion to simmer until it turned a milky white colour, so Regulus lowered the heat before appearing to remember something.

“I almost forgot…” He started as he began rooting through his book bag. “I asked the shopkeep at Brood & Peck, and she said this is a favourite of mooncalves; maybe you’ll have more luck tonight?” He asked as he held out a parchment of beast treats to you. 

“You’ve been listening? This whole time?” You whispered in awe as you took the bag delicately as if  he had just handed you a delicate china dish. 

His brows furrowed again as he searched your eyes. “Well…yeah? I’m rather invested now.” He explained just as your potion turned its intended colour. 

“Very good Mr. Black, Miss. L/N.” Professor Slughorn commented as he walked past your workbench. 

You were alerted to the fact that class was over when everyone’s potions were vanished with a pop and students started to pack up their belongings.

“You’ll keep me posted, yeah? About the mooncalves?” Regulus asked as he started walking backwards towards the door. 

“Sure.” You murmured, earning you a wide smile from the notoriously quiet boy. 

Yes… You’d be more than happy to keep Regulus Black posted.

[iheartmapi]

Mapi angst? Pls🥹

Answer: This is my first time writing angst but I hope you’ll like it 😭

What I dreaded the most

Summary: You’re Barça’s youngest player, which makes your teammates call you the “kid” of the team. The team is supposed to play a match but you’re nowhere to be seen, which causes Mapi to be anxious and worried. She later learns that there was a good reason for your absence.

TW: mention of a dislocated shoulder, car crash, hospital, brief mentions of pain and wounds

Angst with happy ending.

Word count: 2,261

Y/n Y/l/n was Barça’s youngest player, her teammates were quick to jump in on calling her the team’s “kid”, upon her first time hearing her being called that she couldn’t help but feel as if it was meant to be a subtle punch in the gut, like “kid” was something derogatory, perhaps it was a bit childish but slowly over time she started feeling warm whenever one of the girls called her that, even if it was a simple “hey kid” or maybe even “kiddo”, there were many variants, but all became a familiar and nice nickname.

Out of the entire time you’ve grown the closest to Mapi, the girl’s eccentric and often times unpredictable personality absolutely charmed you, the two of you enjoyed joking with each other, frequently talking with each other during breaks at training

Today, was the day of a match for Barça, Mapi was in the locker room, sitting down on a bench whilst talking with Ingrid and Aitana. There were only a few minutes left before they’d have to go out, yet you haven’t arrived yet, this weirded out Mapi as well as Ingrid and Aitana when they brought it up, you weren’t one to be late to anything (Mapi liked that trait of yours) so what the hell happened? Mapi couldn’t help but shift anxiously in her seat, her mind thinking of the worst outcomes; something must’ve happened to you, or perhaps someone? You were her close friend, she always had this natural worry in the back of her mind when it came to you, maybe because you were so young…She looked around the locker room, hoping that you’d finally appear somewhere and explain that something came up or something. “Did she tell you guys anything?” Mapi looked up at her teammates, concern written all over her face, “Nah, listen Mapi…you have to calm down” Ingrid assured her, patting her shoulder “You should listen to Ingrid, Maps, I mean maybe Y/n caught something? You know how it is” Aitana agreed with Ingrid, Mapi appreciated that they were trying to get her to calm down but nonetheless it didn’t help her, she sighed and lowered her head. “We can always try and call her” Aitana proposed and immediately retrieved her phone, Ingrid nodded and did the same.

And so the girls started calling Y/n’s number, but to no avail, it seemed like her phone was either turned off or hadn’t been charged, this only made Mapi‘s panic worse, other teammates tried to call her as well but no one got an answer.

“Something must’ve happened, she’d never pull something like this” Mapi frowned “I have to talk to the coach” she added and stood up from the bench she was sitting on, Aitana and Ingrid wanted to tell her to give it up since she was completely off contact, so what could the coach do? But they let her go anyway, Mapi marched to find the coach, and when she did she didn’t save any of her concerns from the coach, she needed to search for you since this was incredibly weird, but in the end all she got was a “We can’t do anything about it María, you have to focus the match is about to start, Y/n will probably come over in some time anyway”.

Mapi came back to the locker room with her head held low, Aitana and Ingrid were still on their phones trying to call you up, as well as Keira, Patricia and even Alexia…it was clear they were feeling irritated at this whole situation, some more than the others. They had to break it to Mapi that they couldn’t just keep on trying to call you for hours on end since they had a match to play, Mapi was feeling terrible at this point, but they were right, even if she wanted to she couldn’t just run out of the stadium to go looking for you right now.

She sat back down on her bench, taking a sip of water to try and do anything that could calm her down even a minimal precent, Alexia came up to Mapi, sitting down next to her on the bench, “You shouldn’t be worrying so much, I’m sure Y/n’s fine, wherever she is…” the blonde tried to comfort her teammate, Mapi looked over at her friend smiling slightly “Yeah I guess you’re right Alexia…we’ve gotta focus on the game” Mapi’s smile falterd after she said that, she could feel it’d be hard for her to concentrate on anything else other than you right now, she wished she could listen to all the things her teammates were saying to her, but they couldn’t help her at all.

There was no more asking or calling now, they had to go out and play at this moment. As Mapi stood there on the green pitch she felt as if she was doing this for the first time, like she was a stranger among her teammates, it was as if her own feet were misleading her, she could see Ingrid, Aitana, Alexia and the rest looking at her with confused looks, as she was barely managing with her defense. Mapi’s concern for you overtook all her senses, and in result as the first half neared its end, it was no shock that Mapi was taken off the field for someone else to replace her.

Weirdly shaken up and distressed she made her way back to the locker room. She sighed, she sat back down on that same bench she was sitting earlier in a much calmer state than now, Mapi held her phone in her hands, she still had a hope that as her screen light up she would see a notification from you, wherever it was a message, call or anything else. She blinked and there it was, as if what she was hoping for came true, there it was, clear in a simple black coloured font

Y/n:

It’s bad Mapi

Attached to your message was your localisation, Mapi’s eyes widened, in that moment she knew that she had to drop everything to see where in God’s name you were all this time, her levels of worry were going through multiple roofs, she grabbed her bag and sprinted out of the stadium, she had to go to that localisation at this exact moment.

The setting was only a little bit off from the city, the countless buildings were clearly seen in the distance, she neared the localisation that you sent her, it wasn’t hard to miss the absolute train wreck of what seemed to be a car crash ahead of her, Mapi pulled up, close to the scene. She got out of her car, running towards the collision, red and blue lights flashed, two cars were crashed against each other, it looked like one of them quite literally rammed into the other one, there was an ambulance, where he could see a couple of paramedics rushing here and there, and finally there was a cop car, one cop was speaking with a civilian who was leaning against the ambulance, they had some bandages on them, but it seemed like they were the less hurt party in all of this.

Even if it sounded bad taken out of context Mapi couldn’t care less about them or anything else than finding you right now, she ran up to one of the paramedics, asking all about you, if they knew anything, “There’s a woman inside the ambulance-“ the paramedic told her, Mapi didn’t even want to listen to them finishing their sentence, she hurried to look inside the ambulance. Surely there was a woman inside…but it wasn’t you. It wasn’t possible for you not to be here, where the hell were you?! Her hands were shaking, were you dead? You couldn’t be, she walked further…then she felt as if a massive rock was taken off her heart, she was you sitting on the roadside, your head in your hands, you were patched up, some bandages on your legs, but what made Mapi feel at ease was the fact that you seemed to be doing alright, she ran up to you, gripping your shoulders with her hands, you looked up at her clearly startled but your gaze softens slightly as you realized it was Mapi.

Mapi looked you up, searching for any wounds, cuts or anything of that kind, she was glad to see that you were still pretty much in tact. “Jesus Christ Y/n! I- I was so goddamn scared!” She exclaimed barely catching her breath, “What happened..please I’m begging you tell me!” Tears started rolling down your cheeks, covering the dried tracks of the small droplets from before you saw Mapi, “I’m..I’m not sure Mapi It- It was all so sudden” your voice broke as you tried to come up with anything that had sense to tell her. Mapi cradled your face in her hands, her thumbs wiping away the salty tears “Alright- Alright- listen please just tell me if everything’s alright Y/n, I was so scared…I knew something went wrong I just wasn’t…expecting all of this, please tell me you’re fine!” You sniffed, quickly nodding your head in a “yes” motion. “Dios mío…” Mapi muttered to herself

“Y/n I’m glad, seriously I’m glad, I don’t know what the hell I’d do if something was wrong..” Mapi revealed, a single tear running down her cheek, “Come here you big dummy…” she sniffed as she finally smiled, Mapi’s arms lowered slightly resting lower back on your back, she pulled you against her, wanting to hold you tight as if to ensure that some imaginary hurricane wouldn’t just come and snatch you away, she was tired from worrying the entire day.

The second she pulled you against her you suddenly felt a piercing pain go through your body like an arrow. You winced loudly in pain, Mapi’s heart started beating abnormally again, she looked at you, her eyes wide like cherry pies. “Y/n? Y/n?! What was that? What happened?” She started blabbering any word that came to mind as she tried searching for any way to do something, you started sobbing, tears falling like rain, staining your shirt that was already slightly dirty from the car crash.

The first logical step was to take you to the goddamn hospital, Mapi had to pick you up, lead you there- do anything to get you there without accidentally hurting you more. “Where does it hurt? I have to take you to my car, we HAVE to go to the hospital Y/n” Mapi asked, you managed to choke out a “My shoulder…” through tears, Mapi wrapped her arm around your waist, making sure your “safe” side could lean on her. “It’ll be alright, ok? I promise you Y/n, everything is going to be fine, you’ll be fine” with that she helped you somehow make your way to her car, Mapi supported you with each step the two of you took, finally the two of you got into her car, she wasted no time in immediately speeding off towards the closest hospital, the only thought keeping her going was getting you help. As Mapi was driving with you wincing and still crying from the pain next to her on the passengers seat she suddenly heard her phone buzzing, she guessed it must’ve been someone from Barça, the coach, Alexia maybe someone else…but there were too many things going on right now for her to be able to pick it up, she’d call later.

The white walls and typical sterile scent wasn’t comforting at all, Mapi was sitting in a chair outside of your hospital room…you had to get a scan right now, the doctors concluded that a dislocated joint could’ve been the cause of your sudden pain, then Mapi remembered she was supposed to check who was calling her earlier…she took out the sleek device from her pocket and checked missed calls, surely it was one of her teammates; Keira, Mapi pressed the contact to call her back, Keira answered quite quickly .

“Maps! What’s going on? We’re all worried over here!” She heard Keira’s voice on the other end, Mapi took a deep breath before beginning to tell her what just happened.

“Yeah…they said it’s possibly a joint, the doctor assured me that she should be fine though” Mapi said with a hint of disdain for the possibility that her friend’s state could be worse, Keira sighed. “We have to trust them Mapi…alright I don’t want to keep you up so long, we’ll talk later, yeah?” Mapi answered simply “Yeah…later” before hanging up. Just then she saw you being escorted back into the room, Mapi’s heart dropped, she hated seeing you like this, hurt and helpless, “Can I come in? That’s my friend” She asked on of the nurses, the woman nodded, and so she waited as the nurses put you back onto your bed and left the room.

“Did they tell you anything, Y/n?” Mapi immediately asked as she pulled up a stool for herself to sit on, you nooded, “Yep…” you turned your head to look at Mapi “Dislocated shoulder, I should be fine though, already got all the necessary things scheduled…I definitely feel better tho- thanks to you Mapi” you added and smiled weakly, Mapi laughed gently, she carefully tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I was so worried, everyone thought I was going to lose it…” she chuckled

“I’m already imagining that…” you laughed with her as well “But there’s no need to worry anymore Mapi.”

[purinipod]

doberman bf suguru headcanons

a “doberman bf” refers to a boyfriend who exhibits traits typically associated with the doberman breed: loyalty, protectiveness, and a strong, confident demeanor. this type of boyfriend is usually described as fiercely protective of their partner, attentive, and devoted, while also being affectionate and loving in private. despite their tough or intimidating exterior, a “doberman bf” will often show their softer, caring side with their loved one. this persona blends strength with deep emotional commitment, making them both a reliable protector and a tender partner.

doberman bf suguru who always makes sure you’re comfortable, adjusting pillows or blankets without being asked.

doberman bf suguru who keeps a close eye on you when you’re out but never suffocates you, trusting you completely.

doberman bf suguru who likes to say, “you’re lucky i’m nice,” when he does something sweet for you, but his grin gives away how much he enjoys taking care of you.

doberman bf suguru who quietly listens when you vent, offering a calm “everything will be okay” to reassure you.

doberman bf suguru who gets protective when anyone gets too close, but he’ll never show it directly, only pulling you closer with a subtle hand on your waist or shoulders.

doberman bf suguru who tells you, “you don’t have to do everything alone,” offering his help when he notices you’re stressed.

doberman bf suguru who loves to surprise you with snacks, handing them to you with a small smile and saying, “thought you might like these.”

doberman bf suguru who will say, “you’re mine, remember?” in a low, teasing voice when another guy shows interest in you.

doberman bf suguru who calls you by cute nicknames when you’re in private, his voice soft and affectionate.

doberman bf suguru who loves talking to you late at night about random topics, always making sure you’re comfortable and enjoying the conversation.

doberman bf suguru who asks, “how was school/work?” every time you walk in, genuinely caring about the little details.

doberman bf suguru who often says, “don’t worry, I’ve got this,” when you’re overwhelmed, always taking care of things for you.

doberman bf suguru who whispers “i’m here” when you’re feeling insecure, his presence enough to calm your nerves.

doberman bf suguru who has a habit of saying, “come here,” when he wants to cuddle, pulling you close without any hesitation.

doberman bf suguru who will say, “i’m not going anywhere,” when you express doubts about the future of your relationship with him, his words grounding and reassuring.

doberman bf suguru who constantly checks in with you, asking “you good?” even when you’re just watching TV together, making sure you’re always comfortable.

doberman bf suguru who will ask if you need anything whenever you’re out, making sure you feel cared for even when you’re apart.

doberman bf suguru who says, “don’t get too used to me being nice,” but his actions always speak louder, showing his soft side when it counts.

doberman bf suguru who tells you, “you make me want to be better,” whenever you inspire him with your actions or words, his voice filled with sincerity.

@purinipod pls don’t steal any of my work

[haikyu-mp4]

Hiya! Can i pls request Right Now with Ushijima? Thank you ❤❤

Now playing... Right Now

word count; 866 – gn!reader, for my 1D x Haikyu event

Ushijima wasn’t sure what made him so restless. Maybe it was because every task he did after coming back from work was halved. He made dinner for one, evening tea for one, and watched whatever he wanted on TV without any input from you. Everything he should be doing with you, he did by himself.

Playing in the Polish league was amazing volleyball-wise. The players were good and generally taller, presenting him and his team with new challenges and advantages. Training and playing was fun. He was also able to catch a few trips to visit Tendo, which he hadn’t been able to do as often before. Now he wasn’t that far away! But nothing could make up for the fact that you were now as far away from him as Tendo used to be. Unfortunately, your job requires you to stay in Japan.

Every night he felt it. Longed for the light snore he had come to associate with home. He felt it every time he was at his new apartment, and even more whenever something particularly new happened, something he would have to get used to or figure out. That’s when he needed his other half.

And right now, as he lay in bed after a long day of struggling with the language barrier and trying a new dish that didn’t quite work out, he wished you were there with him.

Rolling over and accepting that sleep wouldn’t greet him yet, he picked up his phone. He blinked a couple of times to get used to the brightness from the screen, switching the setting so it was more bearable before finally looking at the latest message notification. If he felt any drowsiness before, it was whisked away when he saw it was a message from you.

Call me when you wake up, my love. I have exciting news!

Wakatoshi checked the time back home in Japan before calling you immediately. It rang four times before he finally heard your voice. “Toshi! I didn’t think you’d be awake.”

“I couldn’t sleep. What is the exciting news, dearest?”

You giggled on the other end of the line, and the sound quality switched, so he assumed you had put him on speaker while multitasking. He smiled at the ceiling as he listened, closing his eyes and imagining himself there with you. “You know that company I sent you an article about? The one that’s completely home-office based,” you asked him, and he could sense an impatient excitement in your voice.

He hummed in confirmation. “I do. They seem to manage it very well so far, from what I read. It’s interesting, but I’m wondering how much they save on an office if they’re paying for part of the home-office expenses like they said they do.”

“I agree, but that does mean they get to pick and choose the best workers from all over the world!” you said, wiggling your eyebrows as if hinting at something, only to realise he couldn’t even see you.

“There must be a very large number of applications, I’m sure. I can not understand how they have the capacity to go through all of them,” he answered, seeming to get engaged in the topic, which was one of the traits you loved most about Wakatoshi. He always paid attention to the things you brought up.

“I suppose, but there might not be that many if you consider that people are not sure if it’s a reliable workplace yet,” you suggested. The discussion almost made you forget what you needed to tell him, but luckily he was there to get you back on track.

“You are very right. But are the exciting news related to this company? I did not know you were so invested in their growth.”

“Well, I certainly am now. They want me to work for them!” you squealed, and he could just imagine how you would dance around the kitchen.

His lips parted, and he stared into the nothingness of the dark roof as he registered what you said, and then slowly also realised what it might mean. “Congratulations. I did not know you applied.”

“I know, it felt like such a hopeless attempt that I didn’t want to talk about it. But I got through to the last interview and they really liked me,” you told him. Your happiness practically radiated through the phone.

“Of course they did, and they’re lucky to have you,” he said, and you were thrilled on the other end of the line when you heard his soft chuckle, undeniable proof of his joy. “Does this mean…” He dipped his tongue between his lips to wet them as a smile stretched out. “You could move here with me?”

Your steps echoed in the kitchen as you stomped your feet in excitement. “Yes! We can look at that tomorrow if you’d like. I miss you so much, Toshi.”

And Ushijima squeezed the duvet in the hand that wasn’t holding his phone as this immense relief overtook him.

Right now, he wishes you were there with him.

And soon, you will be.

“I miss you too, so much. I can’t wait to have you with me again.”

masterlist

[hwnglx]

dating jungkook - q&a

physical ideal type, how to catch his attention, as a boyfriend, love languages (give and receive), favorite type of dates, jealousy, etc.

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

what physical traits in a person is jungkook most attracted to?

well-balanced features

humble, effortless and natural beauty (i keep seeing bare faces in my mind's eye)

sophisticated, well-groomed and clean

takes good care of their appearance

curves! (especially the top area)

graceful movement

soft and pretty hands

elegance

❥ more specific traits could include:

red lips

baby face

sharp face

black hair

light hair

long hair

straight hair

white clothing

beauty marks

i keep seeing iu in my mind's eye, dressed in this long and beautiful white dress.

she sums up his physical ideal type in many ways. i can see him feeling drawn to people who have this fairy-like aesthetic.

however! i do have to say, i can see him feeling attracted to several types of looks. he's not as specific in his preferences as others; more open-minded in that regard.

for example, i absolutely see him liking girls whose aesthetics are on the “baddie” side as well. someone with tattoos or piercings, and more casual but edgy clothing. he for sure really likes it when someone just has a lot of sex-appeal.

one thing i keep getting though, is that he likes people who are well-put together and look after themselves. he definitely likes people who put effort into maintaining their looks, but don't look like they try too hard; let's say someone who works out regulary, eats healthy, takes care of their skin. things like that.

he seems like the type to like it when his partner can do both; glamorous and fancy on special occasions (like going to the red carpet together all dolled and dressed up), and more casual, laidback and natural when alone with him.

❥ possible rising signs he could feel attracted to:

capricorn

scorpio

libra

leo

what does it take to catch jungkook's attention?

he finds it intriguing when a person is intelligent, bold and wellspoken. lets say both of you are in a group of people; if all of you get into a discussion, and you're the one standing out by the way you express yourself in an eloquent, impactful and strong manner, that can very much intrigue him. people whose words have depth; a voice that doesn't raise often but once it does, it makes everyone in the room shut up and listen.

he feels drawn to individuals who are independent, knowledgeable, fair-minded and self-sufficient. i also keep hearing “frank” .. someone who's direct and honest with him. jungkook likes it when people aren't too shy or afraid to talk back at him, and humble him. he definitely enjoys a challenge and feeling like he needs to prove himself to someone first.

he also likes it when someone doesn't put him on a pedestal due to his status, and doesn't approach him with starstruck eyes, and unrealistic expectations he can't reach. he likes it when a person isn't intimidated or burdened by his presence, and is capable of simply putting his fame to the side; just see him as a human being.

how does jungkook act when someone catches his attention?

basically, man loses all focus. once someone actually catches his eye, that person can quickly become all he sees. like tunnel vision, forget about everything and everyone else, you're all i see. he can lose his inner composure, and get kinda obsessive of the thought of them. it's likely he'll struggle looking away and find himself naturally observing them a lot.

i'm in his energy, and i keep feeling like.. “oh wow, i need to be with them and approach them before anyone else can”

i can feel his possessive vein coming out quite fast, and him being worried the person might possibly be snatched away by someone else. so, it's likely for him to act quickly.

if there's an opportunity for him to get to them, he will for sure take it. though i have to say, he's definitely the self-conscious type to overanalyse things; like the way they reacted, and worry about the things he said in the heat of the moment.

how does jungkook act in the beginning of a relationship?

okay, this went deeper than i expected. i will try to keep it as understandable as i can.

as i mentioned before, and i keep getting this (the four of cups comes up without fail), this man can feel empty, lacking and apathetic a lot.. big part of the reason as to why he can get so attached to his s/o, is because he naturally puts the entirety of himself into his romantic partners.

jungkook's lovers can quickly become his safe space; his main source of comfort. the first place he seeks if he needs some peace. once he feels like he finally (this can take a while!) found a person he can comfortably pour his heart and soul out to, he can have the tendency to overdo it a little.

i just see him latching onto the person he's with, in hopes of them being able to fill this emotional void he can experience when on his own. he naturally expects a lot from them for this reason. like “i need you to fill the things i lack.”

i keep seeing an image of a diamond in my hand. imagine you found this diamond made out glass. you feel like it's so precious, because it gives you everything you asked for in life. it makes things seem brighter, more beautiful, enriches you. you will hold onto it for dear life, not ever letting it go anywhere else, out of fear of it slipping out of your grip; but this could potentially lead to the diamond breaking in your hands, since you just can't expect glass to be as hard as steel.

this reflects his dynamic with his lovers quite well; he can often make his partners the centers of his life, “dump” a lot of his expectations on to them, be immensely and obsessively protective over them out of fear of them being damaged, or taken away from him. however, this has the potential to put a lot of weight on their shoulders, which some people might have problems dealing with.

he can be contradictory in a sense, because make no mistake; jungkook will want to do all the work for you in a physical realm. it's almost like he overcompensates in the areas he's comfortable with. (especially acts of service)

he's the type to be like “don't work, i will work, you shouldn't tire yourself out. don't carry that upstairs, i will do it for you. are you exhausted? is one pillow not enough? don't worry, i will buy you two.” i can sense this genuine desire to make his lovers feel good in their relationship, and take care of them.

but, he's this case of.. you can't love anyone else in a healthy manner, if you don't learn to love yourself first.

he wants to give his lovers everything they deserve, and to an extent he does; but he still has his emotionally needy tendencies, since a lot of his inner issues remain unresolved. this as a result, can lead to jk naturally putting a lot of the relationship on his partner's back, without even intending to.

what is jungkook's love language? how does he like to receive and give?

❥ give:

acts of service

whatever he can get done for you, he will. the type to try and cook your favourite meal because you said you craved it the other day, even if he's not the best chef in his eyes. he'd probably end up embarrassed, overanalyze your reaction and tell you he's sorry about the dish being so bad. the type to love helping you out with anything; e.g. give him the task of building a new shelf you bought, he will do it and put the entirety of his effort in. i can also see him loving to drive you around, or carry your heavy shopping bags.

physical touch

he'll love to just have you close to him. it's almost like everything's okay once you're near him and he can physically feel you with him. a lot of possessive hand holding, sneaky and subtle but electrifying touches. the type to beg for a kiss over and over because he can't get enough, even if you get annoyed at some point; that'd just rile him up even more. (he'd grin all smug and amused) also random insight i got, but he seems like the type to love carrying his partners around. whether that's in a playful manner, or during e.g. the foreplay of more intimate intercourses. (like carrying you upstairs)

quality time/physical intercourse

he has a very powerful drive, and is the type to bond and connect a lot over physical intercourse. confident, incredibly sensual, intense and passionate lover in bed. i do see him letting off steam this way as well.

❥ receive:

words of affirmation

i got the empress card, which is the mother figure.

jk likes receiving comfort, support and reassurance from his lovers. he wants them to give him this feeling of “this person accepts, and loves me for everything i am.”

think of a mothers love; it's pure, unconditional and forgiving.

he's someone who desires an intuitive, and emotionally intelligent person who can give him both; tough, and soft love.

someone who's tough and honest when he needs a reality check or fist on the table, as well as a sweet nurturer, who's able to attune themselves to him emotionally, and reassure him in a gently supportive manner when he's in need of it.

he just wants someone he can have that subconscious connection and natural understanding with; a person who can almost read his mind by just one look at his face.

what kind of dates does jungkook enjoy the most?

first of all, when it comes to dates; jk likes being the initiator. the one who plans it all and has the ideas. this seems to be another way in which he likes to flex and display his affection. planning romantic and beautiful dates. let me give you a few examples that popped into my head.

romantic dinner

high-end restaurant, roses, wine, live jazz music, candlelit, dim and warm lighting, kinda like the first scene in seven -> i can also see him liking to reserve the entire restaurant out in advance, so that you're the only people in there. or planning the dinner to be on a rooftop while the sun is setting. it just needs to feel intimate.. like there's no one, but the two of you.

night walks

i can see him loving to be in a calm and serene atmosphere with his partners. he's someone who would love sneaking out at night after a long stressful day, to unwind and comfortably walk along the hangkang together with his lover, and the beautiful night scenery surrounding them. just having deep conversations and enjoying each other's presence.

educating yourselves together

he'd love to learn something together. maybe take on a new hobby with his partner; like a cooking course, or learning a new language. engaging in some kind of sport, or gym dates.

one thing that keeps coming through, is him genuinely wanting to feel like they're a “normal” couple.

he's incredibly adamant on fiercely protecting his lover from all the negative attention or haters, and escaping crazy people who try to dig their nose into their business. but at the same time, he doesn't want the relationship or his partner to feel uncomfortable. he can often seek normalcy in his private life.

how does jungkook act when he's jealous?

cold. he distances himself. if not physically, emotionally. leaves you to figure out what's wrong on your own for a while. let's say jk caught you talking to some other guy across the room; he will hate the sight and it will trigger a switch in him.

he'll feel threatened by the guy. he just taps out of sweet and accommodating boyfriend mode, into his darker and resentful energy. jealousy is something which can trigger many of his inner fears and insecurities. he might silently take deep breaths to press down his frustration and try his best not to make it obvious in his facial expression, but his face can easily drop and grow increasingly serious.

i don't see him as the type to impulsively confront his partner or be very vocal about how he feels, but moreso internalize his negative emotions and try to process them by distracting himself with other things or withdrawing into his own space. a lot of that comes from him not wanting to explode in your face, honestly. you'll have to dig slowly and approach him in a very patient way for him to open up.

he will feel left alone, there's some sadness here. he'll feel wronged, and like his fears were validated. his judgement is likely to be very clouded in that moment; even if you want to explain it as a misunderstanding, it's likely he won't wanna hear any of it for a while. he might collect information on the guy you talked to though, like asking his friends who he is, etc.

[juyeonszn]

SWEET

PAIRING lee juyeon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 4.61k

GENRES fluff ﹒ smut ﹒ minuscule bit of angst

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, boy next door/neighbor au, reader was in a toxic-ish relationship, juyo is so cute and so sweet, until he’s kinda 😵‍💫 yk?, um kevin and changmin appearances, reader being absolutely irrevocably impossibly down bad for juyeon’s hands, so hand kink lol, making out, vaginal fingering, cum eating…. lol, they get a little sappy at the end

SUMMARY maybe this was for the better. maybe it was okay to let your guard down every once in a while, so long as it was always for your flirty neighbor.

MORE i would like to apologize for putting this out a day late… um i was really busy preparing for my enhypen concert so 😭 not a lot of writing was happening since there wasn’t enough brain juice flowing. anyways. ENJOY <3 pls rb if u did! (ALSO THANK U REESE AND @sungbeam FOR BETAING AND EDITING <<<3 i love y’all sm)

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

If there was one thing you took pride in, it was your keen sense of hospitality.

You’d been raised as the type of girl to always be welcoming when a new face arrived, to be that guiding light for them as they adjusted to all the changes in their life. When you were little, your mother taught you to introduce yourself first, because you never knew if that person was shy or not. Of course, there was the usual ‘Stranger Danger’ pep talk, but it differed greatly from the new friend pep talk.

The first time you exhibited this wonderful trait of yours was in middle school when the foreign student in your class was forced to stand at the front of the room. He wasn’t necessarily shy, but you could tell he didn’t really enjoy being put on the spot, hands behind his back as he said his name and where he was from.

Kevin Moon. Age 13. Vancouver, Canada.

The only empty desk in the classroom was the one beside yours, and that was the golden opportunity to become best friends with the new kid. As soon as he settled into his seat and class had resumed as normal, you leaned over slightly and cupped a hand over your mouth to whisper loud enough that he could hear.

“Hi! I’m Y/N!”

He gave you a small smile in return and from then on, you and Kevin Moon were the best of friends.

The second time you proved your kindness was your freshman year of college. It was still syllabus week, but your professor had sent out an email over the weekend with papers that needed to be printed and brought to class. The guy next to you didn’t get the memo, freaking out over already messing things up on the first day.

You didn’t know him at all, but you felt bad that he was so stressed. In turn, you decided to rip up your own papers. He looked at you like you were crazy, maybe because you were. What idiot does something like that?

You give him a warm smile. “There. Now we’re both missing it.”

All he can do is laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m Changmin.”

“Y/N.”

After that, Ji Changmin came to be another one of your closest friends. It was kind of silly that something your mother instilled in you at a young age had become such a big part of your life. It brought you people who you’d cherish forever. But it also brought people you wish you’d never met.

“Get the fuck out.”

“Y/N, babe, we can work through this—”

“Are you deaf?” Your tone raises and your feet carry you to the front door, swinging it open. “I said to get out of my apartment.”

“We’ve been together for three years. You’re not gonna fight for us?” He pleads, clasping his hands as he stands in front of you.

“Why would I? Why should I stay with someone who doesn’t value me enough to stay loyal?” You seethe, your anger growing in size the longer you glare at his pathetic face. The face of a man you thought would love you until death did you part.

“She meant nothing to me!” He tries to rationalize with you, but you won’t have any of it. You weren’t stupid and you sure as hell weren’t blind.

“Do you take me as a fucking fool, Daehyun? I’ve known for months that you weren’t ‘working late at the office’. She even DMed me and showed me screenshots of your messages. Now get out before I call the cops.” You’re so pissed off that you don’t even realize you’re crying, fat tears trickling down your hot cheeks.

“After all I’ve done for you and all I’ve given you? You’re gonna act like a bitch?” He drops the innocent boyfriend act, backing you into the doorframe.

“Leave, Daehyun.” You say flatly. You’re not gonna give him the satisfaction of crumbling beneath the weight of his words. You knew the truth, you knew what kind of person he truly was after all this time.

He scoffs, grabbing his jacket off the hook beside him and finally storming out of your apartment. You cover your mouth with your hand to muffle the sobs that so badly want to escape. You watch as he bumps shoulders with a stranger holding a box, thankfully not looking back at you.

You make eye contact with said stranger, eyes wide like a child who’d just gotten caught with their hands in a cookie jar. His eyes resemble those of your friends’ when you told them you’d found out about your boyfriend’s infidelity. You both stand there for a moment, an impromptu staring contest ensuing.

Quickly, you snap out of your trance, cowering into your apartment. You vaguely remember the elderly woman across the hall mentioning that someone was moving into the unit beside yours. She had never told you a specific date, though. Had you known it was today, you might’ve expedited the dramatic break-up with Daehyun.

How could you possibly introduce yourself to him after he witnessed that? And in your current state; snot-nosed and teary-eyed? There was no way. You’d just have to postpone that for another day. Hopefully he didn’t mind too much.

“Was he cute?”

“Kevin, why is that what you’re worried about?” Changmin’s mouth pulls into a thin line, smacking the slightly older male over the back of the head. He winces, caressing the spot to ease the pain.

“I wasn’t really paying attention to that when I had just shoved my cheating ex boyfriend out of my apartment,” you push around the ramyeon on your plate with your chopsticks. “I do feel terrible that he had to see that though. But how can I face him after that?”

Kevin taps his chin with his index finger, lips pursed in thought. “Why don’t you bake for him? Welcome him to the complex like the hospitable neighbor you are.”

“That’s not a half bad idea, actually.” Changmin nods, shoveling some rice onto his spoon. The Pisces deadpans and reclines in his chair.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Okay, enough bickering you two. I need you to finish eating so I can start planning what to bake.”

The third time you practice your mother’s life lesson, is the next evening when you’re face-to-face with your neighbor’s door.

Your hands have begun to clam up beneath the warm tupperware of cookies you were holding. Were you supposed to just knock on his door like everything was fine and dandy? What if he wasn’t even home? Maybe you should just leave the baked goods with a note and—

The door swings open to reveal the stranger from a few days ago. However, this time he also wears that expression of shock, cat-like eyes widened. Your mouth moves like fish out of water, not sure what you should say or how you should say it. So you don’t think and you just act, extending the tupperware towards him.

“H-Hi, I’m Y/N, I’m your neighbor,” your speech is a little shaky, but you’re too nervous to focus on that. “I— um— I baked these for you as a housewarming gift to welcome you to the complex. As well as an apology for making you a bystander in my messy breakup.”

His features relax as a smile inches its way onto his face, graciously accepting the treats you made for him. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that. And don’t even worry about it, I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“N-No, you’re fine, I swear! We shouldn’t have aired our dirty laundry so publicly like that. You did nothing wrong.” You wave your hands as if physically dismissing his words. He lets out a little chuckle that warms your chest.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m glad that you left the dude. He sounded like a total asshole,” your neighbor tucks the tupperware under his arm, leaning against the threshold of his apartment. “You seem too nice to settle for somebody like that. From what I’ve seen, of course.”

You don’t know why that has your heart skipping a beat like a high school girl. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he really was cute. He had a boyish charm to him, but not so much so that it overpowered how handsome he was. Kevin was going to have a field day with this information.

“Uh, thank you. I should be getting back to my place now. I have an early day at work tomorrow. Have a good night!” You clear your throat to kick yourself out of whatever stupor you were about to fall into, bowing. As you’re turning on your heel to make the ten foot trip to your own apartment, he calls out your name.

“I’m Juyeon, by the way.” He grins, waving as you push open your door.

“Now that is quite the interesting development.” Kevin snorts, helping himself to one of the raspberry filled donuts you’d just finished baking.

“If you keep eating my product, I’m gonna have to kick you out of the kitchen and out of my bakery,” you chide, swatting his hands away from the baker’s rack. “And how is that interesting in the slightest? I literally gave him the cookies, apologized, and that was that.”

“He was literally flirting with you, Y/N. Changmin, tell her I’m right. Apparently I’m no longer a voice of reason here.” He says through a full mouth.

“I mean, yeah? Kinda? Calling a girl nice is usually guy code for ‘I think you’re attractive and I could see myself sleeping with you’,” Changmin shrugs, tearing off a piece of Kevin’s donut. “But I also see where you’re coming from. You did just meet each other. He could’ve just been trying to console you in a way.”

“Why am I even friends with men when they’re useless?” You throw your head back, speaking to no one in particular.

Perhaps Kevin truly was overthinking the situation. Juyeon seemed to be a kind person who probably didn’t want any problems with his neighbors. It made sense why he’d side with you after witnessing your break up. Besides, the wounds were still too fresh to even consider thinking of anyone else in such a way. No matter how hot they may be…

You’d just have to wait and see for yourself. Only time could tell what would become of the nature of your relationship with your cute new neighbor.

You look insane with everything in your cart, filled to the brim with baking ingredients. It was around 10 PM and here you were, at the grocery store buying the things needed to make cinnamon rolls. Being a baker with a bit of a sweet tooth meant your cravings got a little out of hand at times, forcing you to make drastic decisions. (I.E. grocery shopping so late at night.)

Even your clothing choice was silly: flimsy pajama shorts with Care Bears patterned on them, a baggy t-shirt, and matching slippers. It’s not like anyone cared anyway. And it wasn’t like you were trying to impress anybody either.

But as you’re walking towards the registers, you start to regret your outfit. You very quickly spot your neighbor with a basket on his arm, waiting in line for self-checkout. You feel all the color drain from your face as you stand there, staring like an absolute idiot.

He’s dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants, a hoodie swallowing his figure. He looks so effortlessly good, it kind of makes you upset. Because how are you just now meeting a guy who’s both kind and attractive? As far as you were concerned, they didn’t exist in real life— they only existed in fairytales.

Juyeon looks up from his phone and catches your eye, his hand coming up to give you a little wave and one of those crinkly eye smiles that he does when you pass each other in the hall.

As the weeks have passed, you’ve seen him more and more than you deemed normal. You’d bump into each other on the way to or from picking up your mail, you’d hold the elevator for the other in record time, and you’d even leave your apartments at the same time. Now it appears you’re running into the guy at the supermarket, too. You tried to chalk it all up to coincidence, that you just both happened to be thinking on the same wavelength.

But shyly waving back to him right now reminds you that divine intervention had crazy ways of working its magic. Perhaps those had all just been openings for you to engage in something more with your cute neighbor. And there was only one way to find out.

You psych yourself up as you walk towards him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Juyeon’s smile grows wider as he notices you approaching. “Hey, stranger. What are you up to tonight?”

“Some late baking,” you giggle, wanting to punch yourself in the face for sounding like a goddamn school girl. “I was actually wondering if you’d like to come over and keep me company? Totally up to you of course! I just thought it might be nice to get to know each other properly.”

Your suggestion is what leads the two of you to meet back up at your apartment after purchasing your respective groceries. You attempt to tidy up as best you can while you wait for the knock at your door, setting out all the ingredients on the counter and preheating your oven.

The soft knock comes moments later and you find yourself practically running to open the door, grinning at the sheepish expression on Juyeon’s face. You allow him inside of your apartment, trailing after him into the kitchen. Part of you felt like you were moving on too fast after Daehyun. As a baker, your kitchen was your safe space. It was where you went when you needed to be alone and in the comfort of what you knew best. Kevin and Changmin were the only ones you trusted to be within that element. For you to let Juyeon in— to let him permeate the walls you’ve never let down before, not even with your ex— was brand new territory.

“I almost forgot you own a bakery,” Juyeon speaks up, fingers tracing along the stand mixer. “But seeing all this expensive equipment reminded me of that. It only makes sense that someone as sweet as you would constantly be around sweet treats.”

You fail to bite back your smile. Maybe this was for the better. Maybe it was okay to let your guard down every once in a while, so long as it was always for your flirty neighbor. He laughs when you nudge his shoulder, grabbing all the dry ingredients for the dough.

“On a scale of one to ten, how patient are you?” You ask, avoiding his eyes as you open the flour. The question was in regards to several things.

“I’d say about an eight or nine. Patience is a virtue, you know. It comes easily if you practice hard enough.” He answers, leaning against the counter and watching you.

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in, searching for your measuring cups. Both you and Juyeon begin to measure out the dry ingredients, dumping them into the mixing bowl. You decide to let him take some of the reins, folding in the mixture of milk, egg, butter, and yeast. While he does that, you prepare the cinnamon sugar.

“I think I’m done. What do I do next?” He turns to you, head cocked to the side slightly. You might actually die of cuteness aggression. The duality of man would one day drive you to the brink of insanity.

“Now you just knead it until it’s smooth.” Your back is to him as you say this, putting away any refrigerated items so they don’t go bad. But as you face him again, you wish you hadn’t.

Your eyes zero in on his hands, kneading the dough with careful, nimble fingers. You feel light-headed as you slip into a spell, gawking at how long and slender they are, massaging the dough like an expert. How had you never noticed how big and pretty his hands were?

Maybe baking with Juyeon was a bad idea. You could barely focus on anything but his fingers pressing the under-construction-cinnamon rolls into the counter. Oh how badly you wanted to be that dough— his hands all over you, groping and massaging and kneading and caressing everywhere they could reach.

The veins running up his arms weren’t helping either, instead fueling the fire burning in the pit of your stomach. You feel your lips part, eyes glossed over with that all too familiar lustful intensity. You wouldn’t be surprised if you had to wipe away drool after this.

“Y/N?” Juyeon glances up from the dough, a little taken aback by your reverie. He follows your line of sight, grinning to himself smugly when he realizes what has you so transfixed. He’s finally found your weakness, and he couldn’t wait to dangle it over your head. Patience was a virtue, but perhaps it would be okay for him to dabble with a vice for once.

He pushes out the dough, using his thumbs to spread it into a rectangular shape. He feels his blood pressure rising the darker your eyes get. However, he’s aware that you just recently got out of a relationship. He wants to move at a pace you’re comfortable with. So he won’t take the first step. He has to leave that up to you.

It’s at a certain point that you come to, blinking to force away the dirty thoughts plaguing your mind. You travel your field of vision to his face, where you find him already looking at you. Your cheeks heat up in mortification from being caught red-handed. You were just gawking at the poor guy’s like they were a piece of fresh meat. This was terrible.

You swallow thickly, averting eye contact to grab the bowl of cinnamon sugar. “Uh, we can start forming the rolls now so they can rise. And then— um— and then we can make the glaze.”

The burn of his gaze on your profile has you tripping over your words, cinnamon sugar sprinkling onto the counter space surrounding and the knife almost slipping from your grip when you go to cut the dough. Juyeon catches it for you, wrapping his fingers around yours to guide your movements and keep them steady.

You feel his breath behind your ear, his chest pressed to your back. His hand is so much larger than your own, nearly covering it entirely. He doesn’t make an effort to move either, rolling the dough into swirl shapes along with you. The whole time this is happening, neither of you are saying a word, letting the silence consume you and the air around you.

As the rolls are rising/baking, you set up everything necessary for making the icing. Juyeon watches with hearts in his eyes as you whisk the sugar, cream cheese, vanilla, and butter in a separate bowl. He wonders how many other people you let see you in this setting. How many people get to see you do the thing you love so dearly?

“I’d like to visit your bakery sometime, if you wouldn’t mind,” Juyeon suddenly says, resting his elbows on the counter as you taste test the icing. “I wanna try all of the desserts you bake.”

“I’m opening later tomorrow morning actually,” you smile, humming in appreciation when the sweetness of the glaze hits your taste buds. “You can come with me to try the fresh batches before I put them out? I’ll warn you though, I get there at like six.”

“AM?” His eyes practically pop out of their sockets.

“Yes, AM.” You laugh, lightly shoving him backwards.

“I’ll put like ten alarms so I can make sure I’m up in time, then.” He pokes his cheek with his tongue, tipping his head to the side. The goofy smile on your face remains even after minutes have passed and the two of you are just waiting for the cinnamon rolls to finish baking.

It feels like hours have gone by with the two of you standing there when they’re finally ready. The ding of the oven has you springing into action, putting on some oven mitts and taking out the baking sheet. Juyeon's eyes light up and even though you’d just been losing your mind over how insane he was making you, you find yourself cooing at him.

He laughs as you grab a couple spare icing bags for the cinnamon roll glaze, filling them generously. You hand one over to him and decide to split the rolls evenly, icing one half yourself while he does the other. And for once, you think that tonight might end normally. You think that nothing eventful will happen and you’ll just ice the cinnamon rolls without problems.

But you were wrong, like always.

“Ah, shit—”

You glance up from the roll you were glazing to see what the fuss was about. Juyeon’s icing bag tore somehow, the sticky topping getting all over his hand. Truly, you were no better than a man, with the filthy thoughts inhabiting your brain almost instantaneously.

He brings his hand up to his mouth, licking the glaze off the back of his hand and wrapping his lips around his thumb. You felt dizzy, drunk on the sight of your extremely attractive neighbor doing something so sensual without even trying to. You bite your lip, accidentally dropping your own icing bag due to lack of attention.

Juyeon smirks slightly, relishing in the way it takes absolutely nothing to hypnotize you with his hands alone. He really tried to keep himself contained. He really wanted you to extend the first olive branch, but he knows you’re apprehensive. So just this once, he tells himself that it’s okay to initiate, to give you a little push in the right direction.

He takes a step closer to you, caging you against the counter. You stare up at him with wide, doe eyes, as if you were completely innocent despite the naughty images flashing behind them. Juyeon brings his thumb up to your lips, the pad of it still covered in icing.

“Think you could clean this up for me?” He asks, voice low and husky. You could actually combust with that all on its own.

Just like your formal introduction, you don’t give yourself the time to think, and act, instead, running your tongue along the length of his thumb. Juyeon doesn’t restrain the groan in the back of his throat, holding your face in his hands and pulling you in for a kiss.

You reciprocate immediately, fisting his hoodie like it was the only thing capable of stabilizing you. Maybe it was, with the way Juyeon’s lips synchronized with yours and his fingers tangled in your hair. You thought the ground would swallow you whole and wake you up from this dream. On what planet did someone like Lee Juyeon like a girl like you?

His hands slide down your body, groping everything in their path desperately before cupping under your thighs and lifting you onto the counter. He knocks the baking sheet of cinnamon rolls out of the way, palms rubbing up and down the sides of your legs. You want more, so much more, but you’re afraid to ask. You’re afraid to start something you’re not even sure you can emotionally handle.

Juyeon senses your hesitation, detaching from you momentarily. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want. I understand if you still need time.”

“N-No, I want this— I want you— I'm just… scared.” You breathe, your forehead using his shoulder for support.

“I'm not him, Y/N. I can give you the world if you’d let me. I’d never do what he did to you, that’s a promise.” He holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, kissing the crown of your head.

“Okay,” you nod, smiling up at him. “I trust you, Juyeon.”

You reconnect your lips as his fingers slip beneath your pajama shorts, toying with the waistband of your panties. His lips curl up when he feels you squirm, legs parting to make more room for him in the middle of them. You sigh, body shuddering when he drags his knuckle down your clothed slit.

Juyeon hooks his fingers into your shorts and underwear, hauling them down your legs. You place your hands behind you to brace yourself, a shiver trailing your spine when the cool air of your apartment hits your warm core. He groans again at the sight of you bare for him, using two fingers to spread your lower lips.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he swears, his thumb slowly circling your clit.

You whine, tossing your head back as he applies more pressure. Bit by bit, you begin to lose yourself to the pleasure of Juyeon’s gorgeous hands. Soon the stimulation on your clit amplifies when he adds another finger, thrusting it in and out of your entrance. He curls deep inside of you, like he was reaching for something he’d left.

One finger turns to two, and before you know it, Juyeon’s openly finger fucking you on the counter. He leans over your body to keep your lips together, kissing you sloppily while all his focus is on drawing you to the edge. You can almost taste it, your saccharine release in your field of vision now.

It’s a little embarrassing how quickly he was able to wind you up and trip you over the edge, but you feel too euphoric to care. You pause in your kiss to look down at his handy work. (No pun intended.) It makes your head feel foggy and your vision blurry to see his deft fingers fucking you open, veins bulging, like he’d done this many times before. Your hooded eyes follow them up his forearms, a whine escaping your lips.

A particular curl of his fingers and circle of his thumb have you clenching around him, creaming like you’d never had an orgasm in your life. He doesn’t slow his assault, bringing you down just to put you back up on that summit once again. The overstimulation has you cumming a second time in a matter of what felt like seconds, whimpers becoming voluminous moans.

Juyeon kisses you softly, gently pulling out his fingers to lick them clean like he did with the cinnamon roll glaze. A choked groan bubbles past your mouth, tossing an arm over your eyes. He laughs, towing you to the edge of the counter.

He brushes some stray hairs out of your face, moving your arm to smile dopily at you. “I hope you know I was being serious about the whole treating you better thing. If you’ll give me the chance.”

“I know. I told you I trust you, remember?” You nip at the inside of your cheek. His eyes crinkle up like they tend to do when he’s smiling so genuinely. It forces the wind out of you, because how could you ever get used to a sight so stunning?

“You’re so cute.” He laughs, kissing all around your face and smushing your cheeks together.

“Juyeon,” you mumble. “I’m half naked…”

“Even better,” he grins, pecking the tip of your nose. “Makes it that much easier to do all of the other things I wanna do to you.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[tswhiisftteedr]

Not to be rude but you accidentally put val's story in vox's masterlist instead. Srry I didn't feel comfy dming you. Nothing against you at all I'm just a coward wanting to hide in anon haha. Ig while I'm here could I get vox general hcs pls?

What the Tv do? ☆ Vox General Headcanon + Drabbles (SFW & NSFW)

☆ Vox General headcanon + Vox x Gn!Reader(Employee!Reader??):

Some general thoughts about the tv man and also his relationship with the ‘reader’. This is silly, this is fun, fluffy and smutty.

Warnings: Mature Content, Not Proofread, Drinking, Death(literally overdose on coffe nothing gruesome), Drug use(c0caine and others substances), Sadistic Tendencies, Dub-Con, Power Imbalance/Power Play, Obsessive and Possessive Tendencies and Acts, Stalking, Voyeurism & Exhibitionism, Boss x Employee, Pet Play?(Just collaring and slight animal based pet names), Valentino.

Words: Total: 5496 = Sfw - 2609 + Nsfw - 2887

Note: I only wrote 1 drabble, i might add more if people request it about the specific headcanon they want more on. so I’m not good with request like these, I like when they are more specific so I have sort of something to base my writing on, so sorry if you anon or people don’t like what I’ve wrote, r.i.p. >:/ Though tell me if you want more!!

☆ more under the cut. ☆

SFW:

☕︎ Coffee addict and 𓏊 Alcoholic

Vox is the figurative and quite literally incarnation of the ‘don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee’ phrase.

But we’re talking coffees instead of coffee with him — two cups straight out of bed to be precise. When totalling the day’s consumption, Vox indulges on average, 6-7 cups of 10 oz coffee; in addition to his morning coffees, he likes to have a mid-morning cup, then two during lunch and finally 1-2 cups during the afternoon depending how late he is working.

Is this per say, ‘healthy’? No, not at all, Vox couldn't care less — worst ‘worst’ case scenario, he quote on quote dies, the coffee he had intake ends up intoxicating him due to the splurging amount of it, turning this mondaine drink into a lethal liquid for the overlord’s body. His heart would stop, sub-consequently, him and his body would be out.

Though the good thing — or bad, it all depends on your angle — about hell is that in about the span of 10 minutes his body will have fully regenerate and be back open for business. Some sinners call it it a curse, he calls it a blessing, as this part of the ‘eternal punishment’ practically makes him immortal.

So is he going to work on regulating his caffeine intake? Obviously not!

Worst thing he gets from his ‘little problem’ is a heart attack, and they don’t permanently keep him down. — Sure, they hurt like a bitch, and he would rather not be having them at all to be truthful.

But he honestly he doesn’t see his bimonthly cardiac arrests as that steep of a price to pay. (Honestly how can such a smart businessman be so dumb about his health. * face palming and baffled at the idiocy of it all *)

Now when alcohol is the subject of conversation, Vox takes a slightly different approach, albeit one still characterized by overindulgence.

You see, he prides himself on being the epitome of a charming, classy, and self-controlled casual drinker, compared to his drunkard of a pattern —Valentino— our lovely show host with anger issues and both inferiority and superiority complex is a sophisticated and savvy man.

However, beneath this facade of self-control, which he upholds quite well to the public eye, hides his obvious alcoholism issues.

While he may not be stumbling and blubbering around, picking fights,— in most instances at least— Vox is certainly what you might call a “day drinker."

In fact, this is actually a canonical trait, which was displayed in episode two of the show; Him discussing with others Vees on how to deal with the radio demon’s comeback, a drink in hand.

I presume thatit was a scotch on the rocks due to it’s colour but also it’s historical relevance in relation to Vox’s person— Scotch whisky poured over ice, gained popularity in the 1950s primarily in Western countries such as the United States, the United Kingdom, and Canada.

It became a symbol of sophistication and leisure, often enjoyed in upscale bars, clubs, and lounges frequented by the affluent and fashionable crowd of the era.

Additionally, its popularity was bolstered by the rise of cocktail culture during the mid-20th century, as well as the increasing availability of Scotch whisky in international markets. — this fits quite nicely Vox’s character as it is both a drink of his time on earth but also one that remains relevant in the contemporary era.

It easily mirrors Vox's overarching desire to maintain relevance and significance, both in the present and in the ever-evolving future.

The overlord definitely adhere to ‘it’s five o’clock somewhere’ religiously. Though he does prefer to enjoy his daily drink around 5 p.m. PRT (Pride Ring Time).

He will occasionally enjoys a drink with his lunch, often opting for wine, although this isn't a regular occurrence for the man.

As someone constantly under stress, with his mind racing to keep up with the ever-changing trends and opinions in hell, Vox is a type to indulge in a nightcap or two before bed.

It helps him unwind and achieve the relaxed state of mind necessary for a restful night's sleep.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Sleep

While the notion of ‘Vox's dreams playing on his screen while he's asleep’ is an amusing concept for fanfiction or artwork, I personally find the idea of ‘the VoxTek logo bouncing around like the DVD logo’ to be more fitting for Vox.

Before delving further, it's important to note that initially, it wasn't necessarily the VoxTek logo projected on his screen; however, I'll address this shortly.

The reason I lean towards the DVD logo concept is because I find it unlikely that Vox's screen would be completely black during sleep. A completely dark screen would imply the device is completely off, no energy is being received or given by it, which would suggest that it is no longer alive. Having some activity on Vox’s screen while asleep would signify that his program is still active, indicating he's still functioning, essentially alive.

Now regarding the widely shared headcanon, I have my own personal take on it.

When Vox first manifested in hell, his 'real name' appeared on screen. By 'real name,' I mean the one he had on Earth, which I believe wasn't Vox —That name seems too futuristic for a person born in the early 1900s or the kind of name you'd associate with a 1950s businessman— Vox is a name he chose for himself after death, symbolizing a fresh start, though I do think that his real name might also have started with a V.

(This perspective extends to other 'Vees' as well, although Velvette seems more plausible as a given name, I suspect it might not be her original one. Valentino, on the other hand, feels like a name assigned to him, but he too might have adopted a new one after death.)

Initially, Vox was unaware of his old name appearing on his screen while he slept since he wasn't conscious during that time. It wasn't until about half a year into his time in hell, during which he introduced himself as Vox to everyone, that one of his acquaintances pointed out this aspect of his physiology. Something along the lines of "Who's V———?" or "Why does V——— show on your screen while you sleep?" triggered a cascade of reactions in him.

Firstly, he panicked, realizing that people had access to his old identity. Secondly, he was puzzled by this phenomenon since no TV he had encountered displayed such behavior, which was normal considering DVDs weren't invented before 1996. — Hell sure was weird, he possessed technological features as part of his physiology before they were even invented— Lastly, this revelation instilled in him a new fear of sleeping.

This behavior stemmed from Vox's desire to construct a fresh existence in hell, complete with a new identity, image, empire, etc. The thought of others accessing his old name and exploiting it to uncover details about his past, including his behaviors, weaknesses, and tactics, filled him with dread.

As a result, he became hyper-vigilant, refusing to sleep unless he was certain of his solitude, fearing the potential repercussions of his former identity being known.

It wasn't until the mid 1960s that Vox had finally managed to upgrade his system, replacing ‘V———‘ with 'Vox'. However, even after this upgrade, he still harboured reservations about sleeping around others for about a year or two. He feared a potential glitch that could revert his screen to displaying his previous name.

Around the late 1970s he had made an adjustment to this aspect of his body once more, replacing 'Vox' with the VoxTek logo after a certain moth had suggested it.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sexuality

Our beloved Tv Demon a canonical bisexual man, but I personally believe that while he may have bisexuality as his sexual orientation, — his attraction to men was something he only came to realize after death. Although there were subtle hints of his attraction to the same gender based on how he felt about them, he unfortunately didn't grasp them while still alive;

It would have been the late 1950s, and Vox had been in hell for about a year or two. In his earthly life, he had been with his fair share of women, and even in the "surprisingly not so fiery pits of the underworld," his ability to attract partners hadn't diminished much once got over his TV head appearance and let place for his charming and savvy persona to take over.

His love life seemed unchanged, perhaps with occasional exploration of new kinks, until that fateful night of October 11, 195X...

Vox had gone out for a drink after a grueling day at work, back when he was still toiling away at a low-paying job in an electronics factory, toasters, vacuum, etc. Despite the shitty work he had to go through, he had the perk of taking home broken scraps, which eventually played a role in his rise to success. But let's refocus on his night out, shall we?

He walked into his newfound favorite spot, a comedy bar where he sought solace in laughter and libations after a hard day. Arriving just as the performer began their set, he headed straight to the bar for his usual whiskey on the rocks, with nothing else on his mind. It wasn't until the comedian delivered a particularly hilarious joke that Vox turned to look at them and found his attraction piqued.

It was evident that they were a man with the specific style flashy outfit and makeup they wore. The voice was also a dead giveaway. The person now standing on stage, delivering one funny punchline after another, was a drag queen – a stunning one in Vox's eyes.

He couldn't tear his gaze away; there was something irresistibly captivating about the humorous individual on stage.

After the performance, as they made their way to the bar, Vox seized the opportunity. He introduced himself, and they exchanged pleasantries. They shared drinks and engaged in lively conversation, making for a truly enjoyable night that ended with a bang, quite literally.

In the morning, as clarity returned, Vox couldn't help but feel confused. He had never been attracted to men before, so he initially chalked it up to the alcohol or the fact that his night companion appeared so feminine that he mistook them for a woman.

However, as memories of the night flooded back, he couldn't deny his genuine attraction to every aspect of his partner, even the unmistakably male parts.

Initially, it felt strange to Vox as he reflected on the experience. However, after hours of deep contemplation, everything started to fall into place.

Vox realized he had always felt an affinity towards men, though expressing it as "liking men" might have appeared odd to outsiders. When he used that phrase, it wasn't in the context of sexual or romantic attraction but more of an admiration.

Yet, upon further reflection, he acknowledged that his feelings surpassed mere admiration.

He had never entertained the idea of it being anything akin to sexual or romantic attraction, but his recent encounter forced him to reconsider as he contemplated his life and the events of the previous night.

Vox liked men;

— Vox had always been drawn to the men of his time who exuded masculine confidence and assertiveness, finding their presence alluring and desiring to be in their company constantly.

He liked when they wore classic masculine fashion, such as tailored suits with narrow lapels, fitted jackets, and straight-leg trousers. These outfits oozed sophistication and professionalism, and Vox admired the attention to detail displayed.

Additionally, he liked when men would add classic accessories like fedora hats, skinny ties, cufflinks, and pocket squares to their outfit, they added to the polished and stylish appearance.

The preppy style also appealed to Vox, as he admired men who wore V-neck sweaters, button-down shirts, khaki trousers, and loafers. This style exuded a sense of casual elegance and refinement that he found attractive.

He also had a penchant for rebellious men who embraced a non-conformist aesthetic, often seen in leather jackets, denim jeans, white T-shirts, and motorcycle boots.

Vox liked when men were smart and witty, could keep up with the conversation and also teach something along the way.

Vox liked men who exuded strength and athleticism, finding their ability to handle themselves physically appealing. For instance, witnessing a fistfight between coworkers would stir his emotions, initially attributing his excitement to the violence of the altercation.

However, he would inevitably find himself gravitating towards the winner, intrigued by their display of strength and skill, and feeling drawn to them in some inexplicable way. There was something about winners that captivated him and sparked his desire to get closer to them.

He like men who were daring, adventurous, and unafraid to push boundaries, they appealed to his sense of excitement and thrill-seeking.

He liked men who were ambitious, goal-oriented, and willing to pursue their dreams with determination might have resonated with Vox on a subconscious level.—

After his one-night stand, Vox was determined to clarify things once and for all. Following another grueling day of work, he ventured out again, this time to a gay bar, seeking the company of someone who embodied the traits he found most appealing in men, wanting to ensure it wasn't just the alcohol or the femininity of his previous partner. Without delving into detail, let's just say he had quite the night and afterward, there was no doubt in his mind: ‘he liked women, and he definitely also liked men.’

Following that experience, Vox began seeing more individuals of the same gender. However, he still held onto the notion that while he might be attracted to men, he didn't believe he would be interested in them as anything more than sexual partners. That was until he met Alastor...

Initially, Vox approached the radio demon seeking friendship or perhaps a partnership, given Vox's burgeoning company and rising status as an overlord. However, he soon found himself enamored with Alastor. Unfortunately for Vox, his feelings were not reciprocated. After that, Alastor distanced himself from Vox, leading our TV host to regard his old love as an enemy.

In response to the rejection, Vox decided to cease seeing men altogether, engaging in a series of short-term relationships with women. However, he soon realized he was simply idealizing Alastor and shifted his focus from woman to men for meaningless relationships, attempting to prove to himself that any other man was better than "that Bambi bitch."

But this approach only intensified the emptiness he felt. Recognizing the detrimental effects of his frantic behavior on himself and his company, Vox resolved to regulate and get back on a more business focused path.

The fact that rumours began circulating about his supposed "homoerotic relationships," was also a big push into getting back on track, as a word like that getting out was detrimental to business, since being gay was still stigmatized even in hell, during this time period.

It was around the late 1970s, with the rise of gay rights activism, that Vox began publicly dating men. Coincidentally, this was also when he met and began his business partnership (and more) with Valentino.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Names

Vox has a penchant for using endearing or patronizing nicknames, regardless of the gender of his employees. He will refer to them as "sweetheart," "doll face," or simply "doll."

In moments of frustration or when faced with resistance, he's not shy about using terms like "little girl" or "little boy," or even "kid," to belittle those who question him.

Additionally, he might employ terms like "Princess" or "your highness" as forms of condescension, no matter the gender of the person he is addressing.

NSFW

𓊔 Party

Despite Vox's obsession with his and the Vees' image, when it comes to partying, he becomes a total animal — I’m talking ‘The Wolf of Wall Street’ type of wild.

Lavish gatherings marked by obscene spending and excessive drug intake, especially cocaine.

Vox typically indulged in doing lines off his desk or the luxurious crystal table in the lounge. However, what truly exited him was snorting lines off someone, getting his rocks off at their inability to refuse his advances and delighting in the control he exerted as he pinned them down to prevent any squirming.

The slight anxious tears and nervous mewls from whoever served as his snorting surface always stirred something within Vox. While he would grow irritated if they moved too much, the subtle signs of fear, such as the wetting of their eyes and trembling breath, would quickly reignite his unstable emotions. He found himself intensely aroused by their scared state, and more than once, he acted on these desires…

Drabble:

You were a VoxTek employee, more specifically; Vox’s secretary.

As Vox's secretary, navigating Alastor-related tantrums and enduring the grueling hours could be incredibly taxing, but the job itself had its perks.

Thanks to your position in the company, you enjoyed luxurious accommodations in the finest suites the V Tower had to offer.

Despite the challenges, Vox could be surprisingly pleasant, his charismatic charm reminiscent of his earlier days when his hypnosis wasn't as potent. And beneath the unconventional exterior of his TV head, there was no denying the appeal of his well-built physique.

Given the close proximity and constant interaction with Vox, it was inevitable to develop a small crush on your boss. His magnetic presence and the fact he was practically the only person you interacted with regularly since he requested you to work closer to him about three months ago only fueled this infatuation.

You liked your boss, but at this moment, you couldn't stand him;

It was 3 a.m. on a Sunday, the one day of the week you were supposed to have some semblance of off-time, with the luxury of sleeping in until noon.

But instead of enjoying your well-deserved rest in bed, you found yourself reluctantly entering the elevator, begrudgingly making your way to the usually closed-off top floor of the building.

Why? Because you had received a threatening and slightly slurry phone call from your boss, demanding your immediate presence or else face termination.

With your livelihood seemingly hanging in the balance, you complied without questioning, even though you loathed every second of it.

After punching in the code provided, you entered the lounge area of the top floor to find all three Vees lounging about. Valentino was enveloped in smoke, while music filled the air.

"Y/N! So glad you made it! Come 'ere," Vox exclaimed, his gestures frantic, urging you to approach quickly. He appeared laid-back, friendly, and strangely excited, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor of coldness and condescension.

Confusion clouded your expression as you approached the couch, unsure of what to make of Vox's sudden change in behavior. Velvette, noticing your bewilderment, chimed in with an explanation. "He took some MDMA before he called you — actually, he couldn't stop blabbing about your ass once that stuff kicked in," she divulged matter-of-factly, adding another layer of peculiarity to the already bizarre situation.

‘Ah, he’s high — that explains the weird friendliness.’ You thought to yourself.

But before you could dwell on it too long, Valentino's words snapped you out of your thoughts, "Yes, little Voxxy over there couldn't stop talking about how much he wanted his little secretary with him right here. He just had to call you, despite it being the middle of the night. I'm sorry you're losing your beauty sleep right now, cariño," he said, his tone tinged with insincerity from false remorse. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he finished speaking, adding to the surreal atmosphere of the moment.

“Val, Vel! You can’t tell them that! Or they’ll, they’ll… fuck!” Vox began to say, but something mid-sentence seemed to frustrate him.

Before you could question it for too long, Valentino answered that question for you. “They’ll figure out you have a little crush on them. Aww, don’t worry papi, it’s not like they can say no to you either way,” the moth darkly announced, frightening you, as it was technically true that you had to obey whatever order your boss gave you; it was in your contract after all.

To your somewhat relief, Vox scoffed at his part-time boyfriend's comment, as if to convey that he wouldn't behave in such a manner.

"Shut the fuck, Val!" Vox began, his frustration evident, before redirecting his attention back to you. "And you, lay down on the table." Confused by the request, you briefly wondered if he was joking, but the seriousness etched on his face made it clear that he wasn't. Resigned, you followed his instruction and laid down on the table as he commanded.

As soon as you complied, a smile spread across Vox's face. "Good, good. Now be a good little secretary and stay still as I do some lines off you, m'kay?" he instructed.

Before you could process anything or say something, he pushed your shirt all the way up, ending just under your chest, and tugged your bottoms down slightly — exposing your whole stomach.

Attempting to voice your discomfort, you were promptly shushed by Vox. "Shhh, you're being a table for me right now, and last time I checked, tables don't talk, now do they, sweetheart? So be a doll and shut up," he said, eliciting laughter from the two other Vees.

You complied with his instructions and remained silent as you felt him pour some powder onto your abdomen. Knowing the drugs he usually made you order on his behalf, it was probably coke.

With that, he quickly formed about three lines and began snorting them. The sensation felt odd and somewhat ticklish to you, but what you didn't expect was for him to lick the parts of your belly where the powder had just sat — long lines that started from top to bottom, causing you to squirm involuntarily.

Vox didn't appreciate your movement, because ‘how dare his table move?’. In response, he firmly gripped your waist on both sides and forcefully slammed your hips against the table as a warning to ‘stop moving’.

However, his claws dug into your skin, causing you to cry out slightly. Upon seeing the small tears in your eyes, his mood shifted once more, from aggravation to something more lustful.

He relished the sight of you with tears in your eyes, so he decided to inflict a bit more pain. With a predatory glint in his eyes, he bit at your sides, knowing that you couldn't retaliate due to the hierarchical difference between you.

His bites started from the top, gradually getting lower until they ended up just above your crotch. With a slight, heavy breathing, he remarked, "Now what do we have here? A snack for me? You shouldn't have." As he removed your bottoms, leaving you in your underwear, a slight moist patch formed due to the position you were in.

Sure, Vox was an entitled asshole, but god, did he look and sound incredible when he was being mean and bossy. How could you not get aroused, especially when his face and long tongue ass were so close to your intimate parts.

"You want me to play with you, darling?" Vox asked in a manner that almost made it feel like you had a choice. There was something about it that suggested he might respect your decision if you said no—sure, he wouldn't like it, but he definitely had this thing where he wanted you to want him, to beg for him, to need him. Forcing himself on you wouldn't align with that desire.

You nodded, but he tutted at you, wanting a verbal answer. "No, no, no, it's 'Could you please, sir?' or 'Would love to, Mr. Vox,' or 'Please, I need you, Vox.' You've got to speak up if you want me to do anything to you, got it, dollface?" he clarified, emphasizing the importance of explicit consent, whether it was due to genuine respect for your boundaries or just his enjoyment of your yearning for him, it was a bit unclear. However, knowing Vox, he probably just got off on your embarrassment.

"Yes, sir," you said, feeling embarrassed. "So? Do you want me to give some love to these," he asked, tracing the outline of your underwear, "lovely parts?" He perked up.

"I would love for you to, sir," you managed to speak out. With a 'perfect' from your boss, he was now eagerly devouring you with his tongue, sending small pleasurable shocks through you as he did. No part of you down there was left un-licked.

Just as you were about to reach that sweet, sweet release — Vox removed himself from you, causing you to whine at the loss of pleasure.

"Don't worry," he said, but before you could complain too much, Vox lifted you up and threw you onto the couch, your face soon hitting the satin pillows. As you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, you felt your hips being repositioned, leaving you face down and ass up.

Vox quickly pumped his cock a few times, not needing much as it was already hard from the sight of you writhing due to his tongue. Getting close to your ear, he whispered, "Cuz I'm not done with you, dollface."

Then he promptly shoved himself inside of you. Thankfully, whatever he was doing with his tongue a couple of instances ago had prepped you, because, woof, did the stretch sting.

After giving you a few moments to adjust, he began pounding you into tomorrow, playing with your front and sending small shocks here and there. With no regard for his colleagues sitting right beside him —or should I say colleague, as in singular—Velvette had left as soon as he began working you with his tongue. However, Valentino remained, watching the scene unfold with keen interest.

Your soon came undone due to his rough ministrations, but he was far from done with you...

⫘⫘⫘ Ownership, ⛌⛌⛌ Humiliation & Collar

If you haven't already figured it out yet, Vox is a sadist. He thoroughly enjoys power dynamics and the act of humiliating others.

Continuing from the previous headcanon, picture yourself as either hired as his secretary or as a low-ranking demon in his company who catches his eye. If you're the latter, he'll undoubtedly arrange for you to be transferred to work closer to him.

But anyway, my point is, as soon as you're in his close proximity, he'll literally makes you his bitch on call in the blink of an eye. And obviously, you can't refuse because, one, he's your boss; two, he's an overlord; and three, he's Vox.

Who would refuse that hunk? Even if you weren't initially attracted to him, you'd find yourself becoming so after a couple of weeks, even if it's just some weird mild attraction—you're still into him.

Once he's got you in his grasp and has fucked you at least once, this is when he begins to play with you. He'll make you start wearing a vibrator under your clothes at work, ordering you to remove your clothing every morning and show him, to ensure you did it. Then he'd send you on your merry way.

If he wasn't physically with you, he'd be watching you through his cameras.

And every time you would be talking to someone and he deemed it too long, you weren't paying attention to him, or you were zoning out/getting distracted, he would turn the vibrator on to 'get you back on track'.

Though he did like to sometimes turn the vibrator on just to tease you. For example, you're in the middle of telling him about a shift in his appointment in a room full of people, and he would suddenly turn it on to fuck with you.

He also has a huge thing for pulling you by your soul chain. He just loves, loves, loves summoning it out of nowhere and just tugging you along with it.

For instance, you could be telling him about some issue concerning a recent project, and he would tell you to come closer so he could hear better.

As you walk closer towards his desk, he deems your pace too slow. Without warning, he summons and tugs at the chain around your neck, causing you to fall to the ground.

In an attempt to brace the fall, you put your arms out, catching yourself and ending up on all fours.

But as you try to get up, he would tut at you, ordering you to “Crawl to me.” You’re humiliated, but you still do it as he watches you like a hawk, a satisfied grin on his face.

If you also happen to scrape or bruise yourself when you fell and some small tears form in your eyes, let me tell you, he would get so bricked up as soon as he noticed them.

And of course, he would make you blow him, though it would end up with him face-fucking you, as it usually did.

He would also hold your head down as he dumped his cum down your throat, then he would pull your nose with his free hand, saying that “you don’t get to breathe until you’ve swallowed it all.” And of course, you would do it because you don’t want to literally choke to death on your boss’s dick.

Once he was sure you had swallowed it all, he would finally release you, allowing you to take some air in. Then he would make you stick out your tongue, and he would spit in your mouth, making you swallow that too.

𐂯 Training

He liked using small electrical charges as a ‘training method’, and this method has two stages. This would happen after he already had you as his personal toy— I mean, ‘secretary’.

At first, he uses electricity to reprimand you whenever you weren’t paying attention to him, questioned him, said no to things, or did anything that he considered as bad behaviour.

He would shock you, making you associate ‘bad behavior’ with pain, so you would end up automatically correct yourself before you even do or say something.

If you take a bit too long to ‘adjust’ to this new way of acting, he might resort to a little bit of hypnosis, but he would prefer not to.

He gets off on the fact that he can train you to behave just with his words and actions, without the help of any special ability.

Anyways, when he is sure that he has drilled into you what proper behavior is, he’ll employ phase two. He’ll start training you to enjoy the sting of his electricity.

So, whether he's fucking you, giving you head, touching you, or basically providing any sort of pleasure, every time you would be close to reaching your peak, he would send jolts of electricity through you, gradually increasing the dosage over time.

Things would get to the point that a small shock from him would be enough to get you turned on, and bigger shocks would be able to literally make you cum.

ฅ Pet

For the most part, he wouldn’t see secretary!reader as a partner. It’s only after a while, like a year or more, that he would start considering it.

He views them as his romantic interests, but not on his level. To keep face with the other Vees, even though they both knew about his crush from the beginning because he was so obvious with it, he would call you his pet.

Sometimes literal ‘pet names’ like puppy, kitty, bunny, etc. (Personally, I would love for him to call him his bunny <3.)

What he calls you all depends on your appearance and behaviors. For example, if you manifested with a more feline appearance, he would call you his kitten or kitty. If you didn’t have animal-like features but for example, were very needy, had a tendency to follow around, and were a sucker for praise, he would likely call you his puppy.

𓌏 Punishments

Besides using electric shocks, he is definitely into spanking as a form of punishment—whether it involves pulling down your pants or lifting your skirt, spanking you for every ‘transgression’ you’ve committed is something he’s totally down for.

It can be a really strange experience if you weren't a masochist to begin with because he'll end up having you conditioned to enjoy physical punishments;

For example, he would be spanking you, and you find yourself getting turned on, arousal literally leaking due to his rough treatment of your behind.

Edging and overstimulation are also big in his book, though each has its own set of circumstances where they would be implemented.

For instance, if you weren't paying attention to him because of someone else, he would overstimulate you to the point where you couldn't think about anyone but him, asserting his superiority over whoever had your attention.

If you weren't paying attention for any other reason, he would edge you, because ‘how dare you ignore him when he should be the most important to you!’.

Thanks anons for requesting!

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[konigenblobbity]

hii it’s anon that asked about the “what’s your problem” story , i was wondering what your favorite characters from cod were (sorry if you’ve answered this before) and what your head canons for them would be? and how’s your master list going just curious, well i hope you had a great day whenever you read this :3

Headcannons: 141 + König

18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: Fluff, NSFW, comfort, sex, blowjobs, cunnilingus, praise, degradation, possessive traits, overstimulation, just a variety of NSFW, links to straight p0rn

A/n: I don’t really have a favorite! Although I do love writing for Ghost. But I will say, I love König cause his design is so sick and he’s also Austrian which is <3. Hope you’re having a great day / night when you read this! ALSO! I think the links only work if you open the Twitter app. Pls lmk if you know how to make it work, cause idk what’s going wrong.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley -

SFW

Simon is a sucker for physical touch, resting a hand on the small of your back whenever you walk together, tracing the knuckles of your fingers during meetings, simply brushing his ankle against yours under a table

Acts of service are his thing. He’d prepare your coffee in the morning, you’d find your knives and guns polished to perfection if you had an important upcoming mission, be always had an eye on if you were running out of anything - like shampoo or water - and it’d be replaced before it ever goes empty.

Any second he spends with you is never a second wasted. Just being in your presence makes him happy, you two don’t even have to be talking to each other! He just loves having you near him, being able to look over and see your face whenever he wishes…

He could stare at you for hours, trying to memorize every feature of your face to perfection.

Movies and cuddles, always. He won’t even watch the movie! He’ll just be staring at you, so peaceful in his arms. If it happens to be a horror he loves to watch how you jump slightly, gripping onto his arm tightly and hiding behind it. He loved how you felt safe when he held you, how you looked to him for protection.

NSFW

Two words. ROUGH INTIMACY. Ghost can’t help but rail into you till your voice snaps. But he’ll always make his adoration for you clear. Kissing every inch of skin, praising you, mumbling how good you felt, what a good girl you were being, all the while slamming into your cervix till your brain melts

We all know he’s BIG. And when you first see him, he can see the shock and nervousness on your face. You had no idea how he’d fit inside you. First time he’d be sweet and reassuring, but from then on, if you brought up his size, he’d just say “Don’t worry… I’ll make it fit”

Loves to hear you. Takes note of every small motion that causes you to moan out or whimper.

Wants you to sit on his face. He craves it. Wants your thighs to suffocate him slowly as he eats you out so expertly.

He’s merciless… barely giving you recovery time between when he eats you out, and when he slides deep inside you.

This man just LOVES to overstimulate you. The broken moans and cries that leave your lips had him hungry for more. Because no matter how many times you came, or how much you begged for a moment to relax, he knew you can take it. And you did. “Awww I know… f-fuck I know. Is it too much?” he’d tease you, voice soft and gentle before somehow speeding up his pace, chuckling as your eyes well up from the overwhelming pleasure “I know you can take it. Be a good cocksleeve and take it”

Due to his more animalistic side that wants to fuck you senseless… you two have a safe word. That if it ever becomes painful or too much you promised you’d say it. And if you couldn’t say it, all you had to do was wrap a hand around his throat, he’d stop immediately and make sure you’re alright. “Shit…” he’d slip out of you gently, beginning to rub your waist softly “it’s alright… there you go. Deep breathes” if you were tied up in any way, he took them off. He’d kiss at any red marks his fingers left behind “I know darling… it was overwhelming. You’re okay now” and he’d just caress you and take care of you for as long as it took.

Every chance he gets he finishes inside of you. Watching how the mixture of his and your cum slide out of your fluttering cunt. It makes him groan each time.

Then taking a finger and picking it up before stuffing it back inside of you. “You better now waste a drop… want you to feel me dripping out of you for days”

Certain nights he’ll even go so far as to keep his dick inside of you. Using it as a plug so his cum stays inside you. He’d groan as you continue to flutter around him. But as his dick softens inside you, he falls in love with how the warmth of your pussy surrounds his sensitive cock. Finding a deep love for cockwarming for multiple reasons.

Bonus —> This is exactly him! The change of pace to take moments just to hold and kiss you, before going back to manhandling you, hands finding their way to grip at your hips to hold you in place for him. Ugh and the slight choke hold!

Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish -

SFW

This man is so flirtatious, loving to get you to blush through his words. “I swear you’re an Angel…” smiling at you as if you’re his whole world “i could just look at you for hours”

Soap just adores hearing your laugh. This often means he’ll surprise you by suddenly tickling your sides. Of course you try to escape but you don’t stand a chance, his grip on you tight and unwavering.

Play wrestling is a must for this man. He loves when you get all cocky, threatening to pin him down or tackle him. He likes to goad you, get under your skin till you finally lunge at him. Of course he’ll let you have your fun every once in a while but it always ends the same. Him winning and pinning you down. “You know you don’t stand a chance lass… why even try?” He loves to tease. Using the opportunity to kiss you all over.

Always finds time for you! No matter how busy he is, he will make time for you.

Loves using pick up lines on you, even though you’re already dating. Adores when you throw your own pick up line his way, always making his laugh with how cheesy they are.

NSFW

Such a horny man. Legit grinds against you whenever he can, even if you’re talking with other soldiers in the common area. He just can’t get enough of you.

Loves when you give him head… the sight of your lips sloppily sucking him off, it was enough to have him trembling. His hands would caress your head before grabbing at your hair. Encouraging you not to stop. “F-fuck you’re so good… so good to me~” praising breathlessly. “So gorgeous gagging on my cock like that” the way saliva connects your lips to his cock was probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen “Lips slick with spit… Can I fuck your throat numb? Please Angel” he checks in consistently, wanting your consent with everything. He enjoys gripping your hair and holding your head in place as he feverishly shoves his cock down your throat.

He is not shy to kiss you after you suck him off, wanting to reward you when you’re good for him “Did such a good job gorgeous… let me reward you like you deserve”

His hands loved to explore your body, running over your body and groping at any skin he could reach.

Any position where he can see your face? His favorite. He wants to see how your eyes roll back, how your mouth falls agape, how spit collects at the corner of your mouth. “Feels good doesn’t it? God lass, you look so drunk on my cock… all for me”

Just praise. He cannot shut up when it comes to you. “Such an Angel. Such a beautiful beautiful lass” whether you’re on your knees, beneath him, riding him, he needs to make sure you know how gorgeous you are. “I wanna make you melt~ All for me. Wanna make you feel so so good”

Never satisfied with you only cumming once. He will always make sure he gets at least 2 out of you. On days where you both have the time… he won’t stop until you beg him to. “Give me one more yeah? One more orgasm before you pass out…” “Can you do that for me?”

Bonus —> This just screams soap to me. He craves this intimacy, that closeness to just feel and worship you in his arms. The shower being a perfect place to be alone together, just melting under the feel of your lips

Second Bonus —> with your permission of course, he would totally make a video like this. Watching it back when he’s alone, thrusting into his fist imagining it was your pussy. Closing his eyes as he listens to the sound of your moans from his phone. Sometimes he’ll just watch it… not even to get off. Just smirking at the sight of you so weak for him, completely at his mercy.

König -

SFW

This big bear just wants to hold you. Cuddling you against his big chest while his hand completely envelops your palm. His arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you as close as he can.

Protective as hell. You are his top priority… if he gets the idea that someone is making you uncomfortable in any way, he’s stepping in and willing to resort to violence for you “Back off… or you’ll be picking your teeth off the floor”

He is a sucker for your touch and kisses. When you’d pepper them on his face through his sniper hood he just melts. Your touch relaxing his muscles effortlessly, specifically going insane when they sit at his waist - which is slutty as hell! - thumbs resting on the V taper of his torso.

Definitely sprays his pillow and bed with your perfume. He loves the scent of you and wants to have the illusion that you’re in his bed even when you’re not.

König will speak in German to you randomly, whether it’s nicknames or whole sentences. Loving how you don’t know what he’s saying but trust him enough to know it’s only ever something sweet. “Du bist das Licht meines Lebens“ or „Mein süße Engel“ (t- You are the light of my life, my sweet Angel)

NSFW

Size kink. Simple as that. Can’t help but feel pride every time your cunt manages to take all of him inside you. Praising you. “Such an obedient little pussy… taking all of me so easily without any struggle. Fuck it’s like you’re molded to fit me”

Loves missionary simply because he can see the way his dick bulges through the skin of your lower stomach. He’ll place a hand there, softly pressing down against it which had you seeing stars

He. Is. A. Switch. Fight me. Sometimes this big bear of a man needs to be taken care of. Loving to fall apart under your mouth or pussy, abiding by your rules and letting you lead. Whimpers and whines spilling from his lips while he pleaded for more. “P-please, mein gott Schatz. Please go faster, f-feels so good” (t- my god sweetheart)

Making out with you gets him so hard so fast. Hands exploring each other while your lips mold against each other. His tongue prodding at your mouth softly until you let him in. The feeling of your tongue sliding against his while your mouth swallowed every noise he made, that was just so hot to him.

Aftercare is very important to him. With his size and his roughness he always makes sure to soothe your sore muscles after a rough fuck. He’ll always take the time to massage your thighs and shoulders to help ease your twitching. He’ll softly kiss over every inch of your skin, praising you for being so good, and then holding you into the night, holding you close. “You did so good Schatz… my best girl. Let me help ease you to sleep”

Bonus —> SIZE. KINK! He’d just watch how his cock slides down your throat, protruding through your skin. He’d fuck your throat nice and slow just to watch your skin bulge with the head of his cock. Being ever so gentle as he slides himself in and out of your throat

Second Bonus —> He loves having you on his lap. His large frame holding you as you ride down onto his cock. Watching you bounce up and down and urging you on with his hands gripping your hips.

Captain John Price -

SFW

Price was not big into PDA, preferring to save his physical touch for when the two of you are alone. Instead he shows his affection through praise and compliments. Often following missions or in the mornings. “I’m proud of you, you did a great job in todays mission” , “Morning soldier, good to see you nice and cheery”

Trusts you ENDLESSLY but is always afraid that you’ll get hurt. The idea enough to crush him.

If you do come back from a mission injured, he’ll demand to be in the room with the medic, pushing them aside to take care of the more minor injuries - obviously not taking on more than he can handle, they have a skilled medic for a reason. But he feels better to be there and help in some way.

If you’re sore in any way, he is immediately ready to alleviate your pain. “You alright darling?” You always try to ease his mind and hide your soreness but Price knows. Even the small winces of your body had his attention on you. “Y-yeah just a bit sore in my shoulder. Its bearable though” he was already making his way behind you - whether in the common area, bedroom, office, he’s on his way - and begins to massage at your muscles. “Tell me if it hurts too much” the second he starts there’s no getting rid of him, no matter how many times you say it’s alright, if you’re still wincing or clenching your teeth, he’s not moving. “Let me take care you darling”

If you’re not a soldier, when he’s gone you get tons of letters and gifts, he’d even send you little wooden carvings of hearts he’d make when he had time. Always saying that he misses you dearly and cannot wait to see you again

NSFW

His endurance would surprise you… able to hold back just to watch you fall apart on his cock over and over till he’s satisfied.

Nothing turns him on like pleasuring you. He could stay tucked between your thighs for hours if you let him. His tongue memorizing every part of your sensitive pussy just to get you to fall apart faster each time. “Mmm, you taste so good… she’s absolutely drenched”

He has AND WILL CONTINUE TO place you up on his shoulders so your hands touch the ceiling while he eats you out feverishly

Big on foreplay. Loves to finger fuck you before he does anything else, preparing you even when he knows you don’t need it. You’d beg him to stop teasing but he couldn’t help himself. Wanting to get you writhing on his bed before he even fucks you. “Patience darling… it’ll feel so much better I promise”

When you give him blowjobs he goes haywire, the feeling just indescribable. However the doesn’t like to grab at your head and throat fuck you. Rather shirting to a 69 position to please you at the same time. Often eating you out so goddamn good you have to pull your lips off his cock, not that’s he’s complaining.

Not one for teasing, he gives you what you when you ask for it nicely. Loves to hear you beg on your volition without having to withhold your orgasm from you to do it.

Price wants you to hear him… he wants you to know how good you make him feel.

Bonus —> Enough said. He wants you WRITHING. Holding you in place as he brings you to orgasm over and over.

Second Bonus —> SO HIM ITS INSANE! Late night post mission fucking. Wants you nice and close, head buried in your neck as he groans and murmurs to you. He would be so vocal it’d surprise you at first, moaning directly into your ear.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick -

SFW

Always tries to be a real gentleman. Setting up actually cutesy dates for the two of you. Yet he doesn’t want you to mention it too much. He doesn’t need the praise for being a good partner, it comes naturally.

Showers you in compliments, even if it’s a little thing. “Your hair looks beautiful today” “I always thought that shirt looked good on you” often pulling you close after he butters you up with his kind words “Your skin is practically glowing… my own goddess”

Good morning and good night texts… they don’t even have to be long, he just loves sending you a message so you wake up or go to bed thinking of him. Cause he sure as hell thinks of you.

He sticks by your side whenever he gets the chance. Always wanting to be the one to spar with you in training, the one you eat breakfast and dinner with, the one you sit next to in the common area. Practically nothing can drag him away from you.

A big advocate for you stealing his clothes. Loves to see you in his hoodies around the base, a smirk growing on his lips when he spots you. He loves as well when you sleep in his shirts, having once told him that you like how it smells like him.

NSFW

Gaz isn’t into taking videos and photos of you when you’re intimate. However… his one expectation is a set of Polaroids you gave him of you in lingerie, each photo with one less piece of clothing until the final one was a breathtaking nude photo of you. He prefers to keep them in his wallet, physical evidence that you’re his.

Gaz doesn’t shut up. Whether he’s praising, teasing, or slightly degrading you, he doesn’t stop talking. He loves the effect his words have on you. “Yeah? You’re close aren’t you? I can feel how you clench around me… trying to pull me in deeper, such a good fucking pussy. Just for me” occasionally leaning down and whispering directly into your ear “Sound so fucking beautiful… screaming out for me like a cock hungry whore”

He’ll use any chance he can get to smack your ass. The moment you lean over a counter, or bend over to grab something, you feel his hand collide with your ass. When you’re around other soldiers he simply gives your rear a little pinch or grope. Making sure it’s subtle enough no one even noticed.

Loves to lead but not be dominant. He enjoys choosing the position and how he wants to hold you, or touch you. He doesn’t like to manhandle you though, never.

However he will let you lead whenever you want. He’ll be especially supportive if you want to ride him, it being one of his favorite positions. His hands will hold your waist as you bounce on his cock. His eyes glued to the way your tits bounce in unison, either moving his hands up to grope them or leaning forward to lick and bite at them. “Looks so fucking sexy… let me help you darling.” His hands will lift your hips up and down harsher, even meeting your hips halfway by thrusting up into you. It’s not long before he takes control, fucking up into you - see second bonus ;)

He is a BIG tit guy. They don’t need even need to be big, he just loves playing with, licking, and kissing at the skin of your breasts before moving to toy with your nipples. Moaning against them knowing you’ll feel the vibration through your whole body.

Loves to cum on your tits and face. Wants to see it decorate your skin, or your clothes ;)

Afterwards will pick some of it up with his fingers, sticking them in your mouth “Suck them clean for me…” when you oblige hell immediately kiss you.

He would do the same after he finger fucks you. Licking his fingers clean right in front of your face, winking at you after he’s done.

Bonus —> He loves how you sound, but is more than happy to gag you with a rag or his fingers to keep you quiet. This just feels very Gaz… the roughness and lust. Yet he’d definitely make sure you’re in the mood for that kind of sex.

Second Bonus —> Loves how you ride him, wanting to lead your movements. When your thighs falter and ache he’ll soon have your wrists or even your hair in his hand as he fucks up into you. Encouraging you to meet his thrusts by smacking at your ass.

[nyctoaerah]

AERAH, I BEG OF YOUUU, I SAW YOUR POST ON QUOTEV, PLEASE, PLEASE, ATLEAST A SNEAK PEAK OF THE UPCOMING FIC? OR THE ONE WHERE YOU SAID ON YOUR IG THAT YOU'RE POSTING A ONESHOT ABT GETO! PLS PLS, ANY OF THAT, JUST A SNEAK PEAK, I BEG YOUU, I'M GETTING SO FANFIC DEPRIVED AND I'M SUCH A WHORE FOR YOUR IMMACULATE WRITING 😭😭🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐋

“ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃 ”

╰┈➤𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒: Satoru’s sister started to have an unusual cravings for blood after managing to tame habakiri, and Suguru is there to help her.

╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: vampirism (lmfao), sexual stuff, cannibalism (habakiri), blood

╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Suguru Geto x Fem! Gojo’s Sister! Reader

╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: just a sneakpeek cause i still haven't written the chapter 11 of idiosyncrasies, and this oneshot is in between the timeline of chapter 14-15 and it's a smut one at that LMAO💀 so i probs won't upload it until i finish chapter 14 of idiosyncrasies pookie. And HELP, the new fic i was talking about on quotev is devil in disguise, and i already posted it on tumblr but not in quotev HAHHA. Also, this might be confusing if you guys haven't read the chapter 9 of idiosyncrasies/haven't read idiosyncrasies. I SWEAR, I’LL DO THE OTHER REQS SOON.😭 I just did this one ‘cause i’ve already wrote some of it. Also, hearts and reblogs are greatly appreciated<3

Masterlist

The crimson rivulets of his blood trickles down your chin, the exquisite taste of the sanguine liquid staining your lips. Your teeth bore small smudges of red, smearing them like fallen blood on freshly fallen snow.

Using his unoccupied hand, he cradled your chin, his thumb and middle finger. His forefinger to brushed away the residual droplets of blood on the curve of your lips and wiped them away from your chin too.

“Never thought that you had such an appetite for blood...” he murmured, sensing your touch descending down from his shoulders and going southward on his abdomen. Your fingers sought purchase on his firm abdominal muscles.

“I have an idea as to why you have it though...”

“It’s because you’re habakiri’s owner, isn’t it?” Suguru murmurs, the memory of how you had managed to subdue the bloodthirsty sword, to make it submit to your will without it killing you still lingers in his mind. But perhaps, in doing so, you had inadvertently sated its voracious appetite, if only momentarily.

Your body tenses imperceptibly at his observation, and he responds with a knowing smile, his touch gentle against your skin.

“There’s no shame in it, you know?” he reassures in a hushed tone, his thumb tracing the curve of your lower lip, coaxing it to part slightly.

“And why is that so?”

Curiosity colors your words as you inquire.

“You two share the same traits, that ensures that it won’t eat you, after all, it won’t turn on his master.” he muses with a faint hum, his gaze unwavering.

“Furthermore,” he interjects with a teasing tone,

“It makes you look like a vampire...” He says.

“And.. fuck, it might seem weird but vampires are sexy in my point of view.” He confessed, a laugh bubbling on his throat.

“Hm? ‘s that so?” You asked hesitantly.

“Doesn’t it scare you?”

“Nope, Your predilection doesn’t scare me in the slightest,” he whispered softly, nibbling pensively at his lower lip as his gaze remained fixed upon you.

“In fact, I found it rather... alluring,” he admitted in a low voice.

“Do you truly not mind, then?” you inquired, though his assurance had already been vocalized.

“I don’t.”

“You don’t?...” You questioned, your voice wavering in uncertainty.

“You’re too pure for your own well, Geto,” you sighed, shaking your head disapprovingly. 

The unexpected reaction that Suguru received was far from the jubilation he had expected.

Is the pessimistic trait a common trait inherited on the Gojo clan?

Suguru thought, he wanted to release an exasperated groan; you were single-handedly sabotaging the moment once again. Though he cherished your idiosyncrasies, he longed for you to simply revel in the present moment.

Just as he prepared to interject, your hand abandoned its place on his abdomen, navigating its way to his cheek, tenderly caressing the contours of his face. Once again, your mixed signals were a labyrinth he struggled to navigate. 

“You’re seriously letting a bloodthirsty woman in your bed, Geto?”

Your brows furrowed in a contemplative manner, your delicate fingers caressing his cheek as you tip your head to the side, a look of utter confusion etched upon your features.

“Suguru,”

he implores softly.

“Call me Suguru,” he insists, clasping your hand tenderly and drawing it nearer to his warm cheek.

“Suguru,” you repeat in a gentle whisper, the syllables of his name effortlessly gliding off your tongue.

A contented smile graces his lips as he nods in approval.

“That's it,” he affirms with a quiet hum of satisfaction.

“You haven’t answered my question yet, Suguru..”

You venture forth with your query, your voice barely above a murmur, as his gaze meets yours.

“Ah, about that?”

He inquired, a single eyebrow arching in intrigue as he watched your hand slipping away from his,  The warmth of your touch lingered on his cheek before your fingers finding their way to the bulb of muscle at the neck base, caressing it softly, before your hand pressed onto the twin punctures that you left on his neck.

“I would.” He breathed out sincerely.

“doesn't matter if you're a monster or not...” he whispered.

“I don't mind having a monster in my bed if it’s you,”

Your expression softened at his words before a sharp yelp escaped your lips as he firmly seized your hips, deftly maneuvering to shift his weight and flipping your positions easily so that he’s the one on top of you now.

Your breath caught in your throat, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you sank into the softness of the pillow, your silken tresses sprawling across the expanse of the mattress, you could basically feel the rapid drumming of your heart within your ribcage.

“Want you so bad...” he whispered.

A shiver ran through you, your gaze fixated on his form as he leaned in, lips parted, his teeth grazing his lower lip with a fervor that drew forth an errant droplet of crimson, tracing a path down his chin.

Your pupils dilated at the sight, fingers twitching.

“Suguru...” The word fell from your lips, the syllables laced with a hint of restraint.

“You started it...” he mumbled, brows twitching as he looked at you.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this..” He says in a low voice.

“What were you even thinking?... Climbing onto my lap, biting me, kissing me.. tasting me without thinking that there’s no consequences to that...”

His fingers threaded through the strands of your hair, a gentle tug coaxing you even closer until your lips were mere inches apart. 

“So, come now,” he murmured, a sly grin tugged at the corner of his lips as his onyx colored eyes bore into you.

“Finish what you started, Angel.”

[sameschmidtdiffname]

heyyyy can I pls req something where Mike tries to make it up to the reader after he says something wrong in their 1st fight as a couple? like “I don’t want to lose you” as an apology and they get back together or something along those lines? tysm I really enjoy ur work :))

But of course!!!

Wanting, Waiting

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: Overworked and underfed, you'll go to sleep once some decent work is complete. However, a late night turns into a day long fight.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no gender specific pronouns for Reader, pre-established relationship, argument, cursing, Reader and Mike both got some shit going on, hints of an eating disorder, overworking, hurt/comfort, crying, mentions of: suicide/death, depression, drugging, and kidnapping. Vulnerability is gross.

Notes: 'Slip' walked so this could run full speed into a brick wall. I feel as though I may have redeemed myself.

                     ▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

This page is mocking me.

The hour is late. I stopped checking the clock around 2:00 A.M., and there's a cup of cold coffee right next to me on this table, several rings on the inside from where the coffee had been left sitting far too long. It's cheap, the flavor sticking to my teeth in a way that settles my lips into a slight grimace as I try to convince my hand to move my pen across the just as cheap notebook paper that has been sitting in front of me since I came home.

Come on. It's words. What the fuck is hard about this?

'It's not hard if you can actually get your head out of your ass and do something,' I think to myself. Not helping.

I have an irritating collection of drafts. Oh yes, I can start them and I can certainly plan out the works before me. But actually writing is somehow impossible, and even though I can feel how thick the block is in my mind, preventing me from communicating my feelings properly, I just can't get break myself out of it.

Come on. Finish one draft. Then everything will click together for the rest.

For the past few weeks it's been just like this. Come home, sit down with projects, and try. But no matter what I do, I just can't focus. It's as though my head simply won't allow it. And this house, quite frankly, isn't helping. It's admittedly unsettling atmosphere, the loud noises born from nothing. It's as though I can feel the weight of the dead that used to sit at the same glass table as I watching me over my shoulder, pressing their non-existent weight against me, making my chest tight with pressure I cannot voice because that's not fair to the ones still here truly haunted by their presence. I'm just a guest who overextends their stay, quite frankly.

Just a page. Just write a page and you can get up for a moment. Ignore how loud the fridge is at something clunks inside of it.

A page. Get a page. Come on, you imbecile, how hard is a fucking pa-

"I thought we talked about this."

It's a testament to my mental state how high I manage to jump in my chair, my tired and over-caffinated heart set off to make me dizzy with over exertion from fear, turning to see who has come to voice their thoughts and damn us both with them.

"Mike," I sigh. I place a hand on my chest, rubbing slightly at the spot where I feel my heart pounding against my sore ribs. "Don't do that."

"Have you slept at all?" Mike asks disapprovingly. His arms are crossed against his chest, heavy bags under his eyes from another night of restless dreams. He can't sleep, I won't sleep. If he'd allow it, we could actually get shit done this time of day.

"A little," I lie. He's just worried. About everything. He always is, which at first was something I loved about him. And usually I still do. It's an admirable trait, to care about someone and love them so much it's only natural to fret over them, to check and make sure they're taken care of properly.

Except it makes me feel guilty.

"Oh yeah? What time?" He asks, narrowing his sleep swollen eyes at me.

Details. Fuck.

"Ah, uh- I don't know, I wasn't looking at the clock," I say sheepishly, trying to flash a disarming smile and make my own bags look like ones of bare minimum rest instead of self neglect. Mike's jaw tightens slightly.

"Oh?" He says in a dull voice that is not raised, yet managed to ring throughout the room nonetheless.

I hum affirmatively, pressing my lips together and fiddling with the cheap pen in my hands, glancing down at it in an attempt at trying not to give myself away.

"Yeah, I don't know. Just like, laid my head on the book and... y'know... drifted off for a couple hours," I try to say casually.

"Ah," he says as though that were enough, leaning now against the doorframe of the hallway, looking at the other wall as though the paint were interesting. "How long after I went to bed, do you think?"

Keep your breathing even. He can smell fear. "Like, a couple," I answer with a shrug.

"Or, like, not at all," he says, turning his head back to stare down at me with a glare.

"I slept," I insist.

"Bullshit. You give me unnecessary detail about your shits post mexican take-out, but you can't tell me what time you fell asleep?" He says accusingly.

"I was asleep! I'm sorry, do you want me to lie and give some time because you need it for some reason?" I ask evenly, shrugging as though to ask what he'd like me to say, blinking at him and adding a tired tinge of a croak to my voice to match his.

"I'm sorry?" He asks, eyes still in narrow slits yet somehow widening slightly, his leg uncrossing from over the other and planting firmly on the floor as he stands straight.

He's not that tall. Kinda short. But he looks much bigger when mad. Kinda like an iguana. I told him that one time and got bit. Jokingly, of course. It's not like he'd just reach over and sna- You know what? Irrelevant.

"I'm just saying," I say, starting to turn back to my notebook as though the conversation were finished.

"No-no, I'd like to hear that again," he says. I can hear his footsteps pad against the flat, tan carpet, my shoulders stiffening slightly as I train my decreasingly neutral eyes on the wrinkled, lined paper in front of me. "I liked the part where you made me sound like some insecure teenager for calling you out on your shit. Very original."

My lips press into a thin line, my grip on my pen tightening slightly.

"It's not that serious, Mikey-"

"Don't bullshit me, and don't use some cheap nickname as a cop out via sympathy," Mike snaps, standing now on the opposite side of the table, pressing his hands now against the glass surface that dirties so easily. Trust me, we've had to clean some prints off of it.

There's a line, and at some point I'm going to cross it. The problem is it's hidden under mental sand that makes me unclear of exactly where it is.

"Michael-"

"That's formal," he says, leaning forward on the table, his tone the same as an interrogating mother just waiting for the moment where no one will blame her for finally tearing you to shreds for what you've said to her outwardly innocent statements. A trap.

"I'm sorry, I thought you didn't like cheap nicknames?" I say, fighting the irritation in my voice, barely managing to remain even as I click my pen to begin writing.

"What's wrong with just Mike?" He asks. He reaches across the table, placing all five of his fingertips on my paper firmly and dragging it back across the table towards him, withholding it from me.

"Would you like me to use just Mike?" I ask.

"I'd like you to make eye contact while you lie through your fucken teeth," he says calmly, not moving as he continues to stare me down.

"Okay, Mike. And what exactly does my sleep schedule mean to you?" I ask slowly, trailing my eyes from his hand, slowly up his arm with pronounced veins and muscles, to the white cotton shirt that was two sizes too large and usually what he wore to sleep in, until I meet his dark and slightly hateful eyes.

"We had a conversation," he starts.

"A conversation," I repeat.

"About a month ago, do you remember?" He asks, cocking his head slightly in that way it does when we both know I'm not going to dare to answer with anything other than he wants.

"You ha-"

"I had a concern," he interrupts me, now looking down at the notebook and studying it as though it were a piece of fine art. "Which involved how absolutely awful your ability is to take care of yourself properly."

"Mike-"

"Shut. Up." Mike says with disturbing calmness. "I'm talking."

Fine.

"It's fucking rude."

Not saying it's not.

"Like your attitude when I try to just help you because clearly, you can't help yourself," he says, now slapping down the notebook to gesture at me as though it were obvious why he was concerned.

I could speak. I'd like to. And he gives me a long enough silence I could. But instead I decide I will simply give him the floor.

"No opinion on this?" He asks shortly.

"No," I say with a dismissive shrug. "You seem to have them for me."

Mike laughs at this statement, and if the sparkle in his eyes didn't seem to have the same dull shine as the glass table between us I'd feel a bit better about it. But I think there's a six foot hole in the backyard I just signed a lease on that makes his disturbingly convincing smile much more worrisome.

"You're funny," he says affectationately. "Get up."

"What?" I ask, blinking.

"Are you deaf now? Up," he says in irritation, beginning to cross back around the table. "This isn't a negotiation."

Before I can speak his hands dig in under my armpits, roughly pulling me to stand and bringing me close to his chest. I should have energy to fight back, I've only been sitting after all. But a physical confrontation would be too loud, first of all. Abby is asleep in her room, and I don't want to make a scene to wake the poor child. Number two, my bones are sore, my head is aching and I generally just do not feel well enough to protest. Physically.

"Put me down, you son of a bitch!"

Verbally, I'm fine.

"You're going to bed, that's final!"

"I have twelve drafts due that I have to get done or else this project-"

"You have four hours of sleep you can get before you have to take your candy ass to work in the fucken morning, or else I'm gonna beat it into you," he hisses directly in my ear, his breath cold and loud so close to me. Jesus, fuck. What did his parents feed him as a child? It shouldn't be this easy for him.

"Oh, I don't do what you want and now you threaten physical violence. Very mature," I mock, reaching out to grip the doorframe of Mike's bedroom, purely to piss him off.

"Save me the dramatics," he snaps in a whisper, wrapping one arm tighter around my waist and using the other to bat my hands away from the frame. I can tell he's genuinely trying not to hurt me, his grip on one wrist firm but careful.

"Just let me write one page," I try.

"That's what you said last night," he says, still trying to pull my hand away. My nails have dug into the frame, making it slightly harder. I can sense his irritation growing. "You got two hours of sleep."

"That's not going to kill me," I argue.

"You haven't slept for more than two hours in a week," he says.

One nail breaks against the frame, making me lose my grip and sending pain down my arm from the awkward angle at which the pressure had snapped it off. I wince slightly, which gives Mike slight pause as he checks my hand, but decides I'm alright before he begins dragging me towards the bed in earnest.

"Why is it so hard for you to just take care of yourself?" Mike asks in frustration.

"I take care of myself!" I say defensively. Mike drops me onto the bed, standing in front of me to prevent any new attempts at escape.

"No, you don't," he says, quiet but firm. "You sit and stare at your notebook and you don't do anything else if you can help it. You sleep for two hours, you go to work, you hardly eat, you don't have energy anymore." Mike's hands are planted firmly on his hips, his nostrils flailing as he tries to take collected, calm breaths. "I care about you. Why can't you?"

"Michael-"

"Stop!" Mike snaps, groaning and turning away from me with a sharp spin on his heel. He buries his hands in his hair in frustration, now pacing between the bed and the door, quietly shutting it so we can argue in peace.

"Why are you so upset?" I ask, genuinely confused.

"Because I don't want to see you live like this. I am concerned and every time I bring it up you dismiss me, you joke, you don't care and I hate that," Mike says, temporarily stopped in his tracks to point at me as he seethes. "I'm watching you waste away and you know what? I'm starting to think part of you likes it."

"Excuse me?" I say, astounded. I cross my arms in front of my chest, cocking my head at him in a way to say 'I dare you to repeat that.'

"You heard me," Mike says, taking a step towards me. "It's like you cannot for one iota of a second conceive of some world where taking care of yourself is a good use of your time. You work, and work until you've burned yourself out so horribly you rot in bed for a month. And unless you're staying here, I hear nothing from you. Not a call, not a fuck you or whatever. It's like you're punishing yourself."

"Now who's being dramatic?" I say.

"See? I can't even point this out without you getting defensive, which just shows you know you're in the wrong!" Mike turns away from me once more, resuming his path of restless walking.

"Why do you even care?" I ask genuinely. This makes him pause again, his glare once more returning to me as he mentally questions my intelligence.

"You know what, I don't know!" Mike snaps, his voice gaining volume. "You are insistent in this fucking- slow method suicide and I'm trying to help you, but you won't let me!"

"I never asked you to care," I scoff, rolling my eyes.

"I never asked to care!" Mike nearly shouts, leaning in close to my face and sneering at me.

This breaks the tension.

His face falls as soon as the words are out of his mouth, his eyes widening slightly like my own eyes. This comment shouldn't really sting. I shouldn't let it. But it does. And for a moment, I do. And he sees that clearly.

"... oh," I say softly, my arms relaxing and shoulders sagging ever so slightly as I drop his gaze, trying to shut off my emotions before they're obvious.

"I'm sorry," Mike says quickly, stumbling to his knees in front of me. "I didn't mean that-"

"It's fine," I say, trying to remain as blank as my pages on the kitchen table.

"I just said it to be hurtful," Mike says quickly, his hand reaching up to cup my face. I take it away, turning my head to the side slightly. There's a new chill in the air, one I can feel seizing my chest.

"You weren't," I say. "I'm going to sleep."

"Please, I don't want-"

"I'm going to sleep," I say forcefully, shoving him away and turning to begin undressing from my work clothes that I still wore. Mike is silent behind me, probably thinking, and I'm close to not being able to hold myself together anymore.

"Get out!" I snap, flinging my shirt at him in a rage and beginning to stand from the bed to chase him out. He doesn't need anymore prompt, quickly scurrying out from the room to wherever it is he'll sleep now. Probably on the couch even though there's another room down the hall. A self induced punishment. Knowing him he probably won't even allow himself a blanket or pillow, feeling the cold air fitting for his selfishness.

Good.

-

When I wake that morning, I can smell breakfast in the air. My stomach hurts from skipping meals, but I don't want to eat. First of all, I haven't worked for a meal. There's still plenty to be done with my drafts. And food is a good encouragement to keep working. Second, I didn't ask him to care. And he didn't ask for it either. There probably isn't enough for me, and if there is, he and Abby can debate between the two who will have it. I need to shower.

I take forever washing myself. If that's what you want to call it. It was moreso standing under hot water, letting it run cold until I couldn't stand it anymore and hoping my deodorant is able to do some heavy lifting today. I barely have enough time to get to work, passing silently by Mike and not turning when he calls my name, walking out the door as fast as I can without running.

He follows me outside, something shaking in a bag behind me. When I finally open my car door I'm forced to have my gaze in his direction, his body between the door frame and my car door, presenting me with a bag of lunch.

"Please eat," he begs, placing the bag in my lap unceremoniously and then quickly stepping away and shutting the door himself.

There's a small moment where he and I just share at each other through the glass, time slipping away without notice. He hasn't slept, he'll be late for work if he doesn't get dressed soon, and the bag on top of my thighs is warm. Fresh. A petty part of me wants to roll down my window and throw away the meal, back out of the drive way and let that fester in his mind out of hate. He thinks words can hurt? Actions are so much worse.

But there's something in his eyes. Defeated, resigned. Childlike is almost the word I could use. In front of my car is the 12 year old boy who tried to chase down his brother, the 18 year old who decided to sacrifice his life raising his little sister while saying goodbye to his parents, and the 27 year old man who's just trying to keep everything together.

I don't know what to say to this child. Or to the man.

So, with the turn of my key in the ignition, I don't.

-

It's late when I come home. When the manager had asked me to stay late I almost called Mike to break the silence and tell him this. But there was still a part of me that didn't care whether or not he knew. Really, I didn't have to return home tonight. I could go back to my apartment and just let him rot in bed the way he claims I do. How could he say such a thing, anyways? I rot in bed? What about the days I've walked into the house and he hasn't slept all week, where he's claiming he's trying to kick his medication and he'll get the hang of it soon. Where his sister is eating every meal almost burnt because he can't think straight enough to remember time. Where I've had to coax, beg, demand of him that he just takes a pill because he's laying on the side of the bed, small and curled in on himself, dead eyed and obviously tired but still not sleeping. One time I slipped it into his food. And I felt awful. Do not think for a moment I wanted to do that. There was a betrayel in his eyes when sleep began to overtake him. I hoped he wouldn't notice, but he must've. Some tell in the drugs effect that made him aware his rest was not voluntary. But I didn't care. I stroked his hair through the night, and I'll do it again. He could hate me however long he needed to, he just needed sleep first.

The irony still hasn't struck me when I walk through the door of his house, well past dinner, Abby in the bath. The door was left unlocked, which is unusual for this time of night. Mike jumps from the couch the minute I open the door, standing with his hands by his side anxiously pulling at the edge of his oversized sweater.

Everything's oversized with him. The thought occurs to me that his father was slightly bigger.

"Don't leave me," he says quietly, his voice small and pathetic like him. But I don't say that with hate.

"I just got home," I say. "Be a bit odd to leave again."

I try a smile, but it's artificial and we both know it's only for his comfort. It doesn't touch him, his eyes glassy and lips slightly parted the same way a child's is when they're trying to breathe as their sinuses spring to life in wake of forming tears.

"I didn't mean it," he says, still standing in the same place. If I was a better person I'd probably run to him. But I'm not.

If I were a better person, I'd say I believe him. But I don't. And suddenly my throat is swollen with hurt, my own bottom lip is sticking out and now we're both trying not to cry because this is so overly taxing. We're adults but emotions are hard. Vulnerability is hard. It is a damnation that we both detest, both avoid. In better states we would joke about this, would laugh and tease the other for not having the emotional capability to voice our thoughts. But we're not. So we don't. And now we're crying openly in the off-putting, attempted to look cozy living room that we can never fully relax in.

"I don't wanna lose you," he says between small hiccups, hands now balled into fists that he buries under opposite armpits, shifting his weight so that he doesn't look so small. His glances bounce between me and the hallway table, never fixing on either of us as he tries to state his mind like an adult. "I've barely had you."

In my heart there has been a constant ache, hurt flowing and pumping through my veins like the blood that ran cold last night at his hurtful words. His apologetic words make the ache somehow worse.

"I don't mean to be a burden to you," I say softly, feeling a small, stray tear break the fluid barrier of my waterline to race down my cheek, allowing a pathway to the fatter drops that threaten to quickly follow.

Mike's face shifts, stepping towards me and holding out his arms.

"No, never," he says just as soft, trying to comfort me. I freeze as he approaches, my body stiffening as I try to swallow the lump and convince myself that I can survive his touch. His touch that I normally crave the moment I'm around him, that I seek in the dark of night even when the bed is overheating, that I'd go insane without.

"I've never asked you to care," I say, voice breaking and tears rolling freely now.

"I know," he says into my neck, which is wetting as he shakes around me, his grasp firm and careless of whether or not it's too much.

"I don't mean to cause problems. I just...." I don't know what I mean, how I wish to finish the statement. If I was clever, I could. If I was clever, I wouldn't even be in this problem to begin with.

"I'm just scared," he chokes out, his breathing horrible as he struggles to keep his crying from being obvious. "You look sick all the time and I don't want that."

He's told me the story. His mother wasting away, thinning and slipping, starving and dying. How he'd returned home to a baby wailing in her crib as their mothers body lay in a pool of blood he never really got out of the carpet. He lied to me initially when I saw it the first time, said it was wine. It wasn't until we had a few glasses ourselves that his eyes glazed over and he told me. It was disturbing how neutral he kept himself to the subject. A habit he'd developed much too long ago to break.

"Mike-"

"I try, and I try and if something doesn't give soon I'm gonna fucking lose it," he sobs into my skin, arms tightening around me.

"If what doesn't give?" I ask softly, trying to pull him away to look into his eyes. But he doesn't budge, sobbing a little bit harder and gripping a little bit tighter. He doesn't respond, simply shaking as he breathes heavily against me through his mouth.

"Hey," I say softly, trying to wrap my arms around him, failing and giving up as I realize his grip is too tight. "I'm not going anywhere."

His mouth closes a little, quieting his breathing slightly as he sniffles.

"I'm an idiot, but I'm not suicidal," I say softly, trying again for a joke. He doesn't laugh, but he does pull away slightly to look at my face, lips swollen and quivering as he blinks at me.

"You scare me," he says quietly, not quite meeting my eyes. He's watching my lips, but I think that's because that's the closest he can get to making eye contact.

"I scare you?" I ask, furrowing my brows. I lick my dry, cracked lips for comfort. "Why?"

"Because I love you," he says shakily, sighing as though it were exhausting to admit while still holding that nervous flicker in his eyes. "Because when I think about not being with you the house seems colder. And I can't go back to hating this house."

I open my mouth to respond, but there's more.

"Because I love your stupid smile when you're excited, or how you do that cricket leg thing when you're falling asleep. Or how if you want my attention you'll bury your head in my chest and pretend you're doing it in your sleep even though I won't judge you for doing it while you're awake."

"I don't-"

"I love how defensive you get over things like that," he says, bringing one hand to cup my cheek, resting his thumb that smells like the creamy lavender handsoap next to the bathroom sink on my lips. "I love how you look waking up next to me, how you play with Abby. And for a really long time I didn't see myself ever having kids, but when I see you curling her hair at the kitchen table I think maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I just took up another job and saved money so that we could-"

"Mike-"

"Stop cutting me off," he says gently, his eyes finally meeting mine with just the smallest smile. "It's rude."

At that I do stop, my body finally relaxing into his grasp as I lean into him and his touch.

"I want things I haven't wanted since before Garret went missing," he says, stroking my lip. "And I want them with you."

Dinner was just as delicious as lunch, even if it was late. And the bed is soft like our voices as we make plans for years down the line. And after a week long break, the pages are finally filled once again.

Just like us.

                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

Literally had a come to Jesus moment while writing this that not only do I fear being vulnerable irl, but in writing too. Nearly threw up while writing this. Book aable feet.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[malues]

HAIII!! I was super fixated on LOTS during my exams and it almost cost me. But it helped relieve stress at least :D ANYWAY. I got stuff I wanna say, and it’s nice to have a main creator’s opinion. But pls correct or change my headcannons or anything, I do like accuracy. :p Apologies if this is long (I literally hv no other ppl to talk ab LOTS stuff like this with)

I see Michael and CB always hv sharp teeth when rlly upset, and I interpret CB’s lil bump in his teeth as a fang. Is that a good interpretation to have? I like the idea of those two being an intimidating sharp teeth duo

Semi-related to above, I like to think operators and their patients are very super similar. Like they’re sort of fated to be that patients operator for a reason yk? Like Michael and CB mirror each other a lot in their own way, yet are so opposite. And it seemed that PB was clean and stuff, but his operator wasn’t (rlly cool mirroring). Crown and Sean just compliment each other and get along great. I’m also mostly fixated on Michael’s and CB’s dynamic, Michael and CB being a complete mental mess in their own rights, and little things like Michael likes rabbits and CB bunny ears jokes :> I also like the idea CB holds a form of resentment cuz his friends get chiller operators and he was instead locked up for months.

Also Michael seems like the type to get over-stimulated and lash out, or collapse onto herself. Would she pace around? (If so, I like to think she holds her pinwheel top still cuz it’ll spin from the air yk and it would be more over-stimulating) Does she pen click when frustrated? Does she chew? Or does she mess with her pinwheel pieces>

I also like the idea that CB throws tantrums and is prone to unintentionally lashing out, he’s over-energetic and he can’t help it. Like he lashes out at crown and his operator. Would his lashing out come from stress, fear or anxiety?

I think that’s mostly it. Uhhhh my only complaint is you should’ve made PB cry in episode 1c, I wanna see TEARS lol

Ok thank u! I’m excited for more episodes, livestreams, videos and whatever else u hv planned ^.^

I LOVE ALL UR THOUGHTS!!! ill try to answer these without giving too much away

the fangs/bumps in a characters teeth is less of an actual trait and more of a little thing i draw whenever i feel like itd be funny to show on screen, but more detailed interpretations of that are fine by me!

the relationship between operator and patient is really hard to explain, especially in a general sense. i wouldnt call it fate COMPLETELY but the patient that an operator is assigned isnt COMPLETELY random either if that makes any sense. im happy u noticed the similarities between cb and michael, and we'll get to see a lot more of their relationship as the episodes go on. both of them are very prone to lashing out if in the right context but for their own reasons. the lashouts originate from a lot of mixed emotions, but i think part of it comes from both of them thinking "Why am i stuck with this asshole?"

also i agree that i shouldve made pb cry in 1c. when faeb did those lines i was taken aback cause i didnt expect him to sound like hes on the verge of tears!!!! but i guess it makes sense

thank you for your kind words!! im excited for everyone to see whats next for the show

[squishmallowo]

EDIT: TME/TMA ARE NOT INTERSEXIST TERMS PLS STOP INTERACTING WITH ME IF YOU BELIEVE THIS THANK YOU - sincerely, an intersex person who actually listens to transfems (including intersex transfems) (no not tme people with pcos/ncah/whatever, you know what i mean)

anyways.. here's the original post:

i regularly see people talk about whether pcos should be considered an intersex condition or not.. and tbh, regardless of what you think, pcos (specifically the symptoms they call virilisation) is treated like an intersex condition in practice anyway

even if they don't actually use the word intersex, so many of the symptoms are completely harmless and instead they're defined by the fact that they're "male" characteristics on a "female", if that isn't intersex then idk what is! having the "wrong" sex characteristics according to society is how intersex is (or at least should be) defined

like hell even the term hirsutism on its own literally only exists because of intersexism, the literal definition of it is "male pattern hair growth"... that's literally just it, the only thing that makes it a "symptom" is being the wrong person to have this kind of hair growth

while intersexness does centre around physical traits, imo it's the way society treats us and reacts to our bodies that actually makes us intersex (as an identity and community), if i wasn't treated this way growing up (and still treated this way today!!), i would probably not have identified as intersex, i think it's important to keep this in mind when looking at how people decide what an intersex condition even is

so with that logic, it makes perfect sense for hyperandrogenic pcos to be considered intersex, the only reason why it isn't is because society benefits from having a large group of women to put below other women while still telling them they have a chance to be "normal" like other women, as long as they put the effort into it.. (by making them spend thousands on stuff like hair removal, weight loss, fertility treatments, anti-androgens, surgery, etc!)

them identifying as intersex in any way completely breaks the illusion, it separates the "male" features from the actually bad symptoms, people would start to question why they have to put themselves through so much effort rejecting their bodies just to be seen as normal, and ofc society does not want that, especially because it makes a lot of money to keep things this way

even the way pcos is diagnosed reeks of this, you could easily be diagnosed with it even if your only problem is high androgens and nothing else (i've been told to get checked for pcos for the crime of: simply having more testosterone than average)

if you tell someone their perfectly harmless features are actually part of this scary disorder that needs treatment then it suddenly becomes a lot easier to manipulate them into finding a "cure" for these harmless features, the pathologisation of intersex features is a huge part of what makes intersex an identity in the first place..

not only that, but ncah (a condition that's more commonly accepted as intersex) is almost always misdiagnosed as pcos, if pcos can look almost exactly like an intersex condition, it is probably intersex. i most likely have ncah, not pcos, and it's treated as almost the same especially before it's actually diagnosed as ncah

and if nothing else, if the intersex "symptoms" of pcos could somehow be found out at birth, and could be "fixed" by a surgery, they absolutely would do it (something that so many intersex children have to suffer through), the only reason why they don't is because they can't, if that isn't enough proof on its own that pcos can be intersex then idk what is!!

the experience of being pathologised for having the "wrong" sex characteristics (both primary and secondary) is what makes intersex a community and grouping these "symptoms" in with actually bad symptoms under one syndrome is not by accident!

[nalesnik-z-morela]

Why is Aziraphale a hobbit?

Enjoys food very much

English vibes™

Has much circle-shaped stuff at his place (the entrance corridor, the main place where the ball was, the inside balconies of the 2nd floor, the spiral stairs)

Can't or simply doesn't want to catch up on things that go quickly with time (like fashion or technology), sticks to what he already knows, believes in old systems

Not only old-fashioned, he's simply satisfied with what he has and doesn't need new stuff or ideas

Has his favourite set of colours and will stick to it all life long

Uses stimulants

Probably doesn't like so called adventures

Loves his cozy home

Tries to be kind at all costs when he's talking to others

But at the same time cares the most about his own business (the Tchaikovsky record is to him what the spoons are to Lobelia)

Enjoys music so, so, so much (pls somebody show him this hobbit band)

If you still aren't convinced, watch The Drunk Scene. He's basically a hobbit. THAT'S ineffable.

Anyway here's more:

Why does Aziraphale remind me specifically of Bilbo Baggins?

There and back again (IM SORRY)

Likes to socialize once in a while, still manages to be socially awkward af

Can't tell his unexpected guests to get tf out

Has questionable moral system

Says dramatic and/or noble lines (Aziraphale: "Welcome to the end times", Bilbo about sitting at the door)

Gets attached to objects and takes care of them

Keeps managable mess around him

Daydreams but won't admit it (unless unconchously bc he's also naive and his mind drifts away fast)

Would be dramatic about forgeting his tissue

Forgets basic stuff when in stressful situation (Aziraphale and his books in 1941 explosion, Bilbo and the tissue)

Gets very much excited about specific things that are nostalgic to him (Azi when The Clues, Bilbo when Gandalf's fireworks)

Tries to be polite more than he can be

The way he breaks when at the limit of social skills and/or managing stimuluses (Aziraphale ringing that bell so everyone shuts up, Bilbo swearing at the dwarves when they start to place their orders about food)

Kinda does magic and thinks that's epic (Aziraphale doing magic tricks, Bilbo fkn disappearing in front of everyone)

Pays attention to words, remembers details and points them out when necessary (Aziraphale "but is it ineffable?", Bilbo and his fourteenth part of the treasure)

Down bad for bribery but only when all other means let down

Just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing (liking even?)

Other Aziraphale-Bilbo paralels that don't really add much:

Has a sword

Has a ring and carries it everywhere with himself

Has a grumpy friend who likes gloomy aesthetic

Long-lived (kind of)

Both ace and gay communities consider him theirs, although he doesn't work like this at all and probably wouldn't even get the concept of orientation at first

Probably thinks he looks cool in his reading glasses (i'm not sure if Bilbo has such but i like to think that way)

That's already a litany and i don't want to write a whole essay. I promise that there are more such characteristics, those will have to be enough for you now. And if they aren't just open those two books.

To sum everything up, considering all mentioned traits and my own experience, i surely can place a statement that all three of us are neurodivergents, thank you very much.

[joshusten]

honeysuckle (guy/honey, redacted audios)

Guy is having not-so-wholesome thoughts about his recently turned roommate-to-lover.

NSFW CONTENT!! (minors dni pls!)

(suggestive, making out, dirty thoughts, implied sexual content at the end)

3.2k+ words [ao3 link] [masterlist]

[cw/notes: idk man guy is horny and theres a lot of horny stuff but it's not SUPER explicit (i think) and plsplsss im asking for feedback bc this is the first time writing something this suggestive hope u enjoy!! OH also as always theres probably grammatical errors and guy might be OOC]

A HUGEEE thank you to the wonderful @slushiepizza for all the amazing suggestions and support throughout writing this fic!! this rlly would not be finished without ur help thank you for ur service in providing quality guy/honey content SHAKING U RN ILY!!!

Guy is a daydreamer.

Ask anyone who knows him, from his grade school teachers to his apartment neighbors, and they can attest that Guy never seems to run out of topics to talk about. Never a dull moment, much less a dull idea to mull over when he’s around.

In fact, his imagination is something he prides himself in. After all, as an aspiring writer, it’s what gives the very soul of all of the stories he wants to share with the world—whether it’s the exciting plot of a potential novel he has been writing (and rewriting) all night throughout the week or an epic fantasy he was able to make up on the top of his head and narrate to the kids by the playground of the middle-school he makes deliveries to.

Guy is a daydreamer. 

And it might be the very trait that would be the root of his current predicament.

Slow hands, languid movements

“Does this feel good, Honey?”

Heavy breaths, sharp gasps

“You can get r-rougher, babe. I can take it…”

Warm bodies, warmer lips

“M-mhm, Guy…”

Fuck. Their lips…

“Guy?”

Fuck.

“Guy!”

Fuck.

“Hello? Earth to Guy? You with us, buddy?”

Shit. Fuck. Fucking shit.

“Wh-wha-what? H-hi! Yeah, of course I am. I am here. On the earth. Present. With you guys,” Guy cleared his throat awkwardly after seeing the unconvinced, deadpan looks on his co-workers' faces. Rosa specifically had her brow raised in suspicion to which Guy responded with a nervous smile. “Uh, what’s up?”

“What’s up,” The woman repeated, “Is your constant staring into space! You almost burned the dough if it weren’t for me keeping an eye on you! I’m used to your head in another world but you’ve barely said a word for the past few hours!” The others nodded in agreement. 

Rosa's hard eyes softened, “Is everything okay with you? Something botherin’ you or what?”

Right. Dough. Pizza. He’s making pizza. He’s kneading dough. The flour clinging to his hands suddenly felt heavier, the scent of basil overwhelmed his nose and the chattering of the customers increased in volume but that meant that everything was starting to make sense. He took in his surroundings, which were quickly clearing up for him, to finally decipher that he was still in Max’s, in the kitchen and it was still his shift.

Definitely not with his recent roommate-to-lover and definitely not in their dimmed bedroom, straddling them on their bed with a delightfully sinful expression painted on their face as his shaky hands slowly creep up between their—

Oh my god.

The very thought of them already leaves Guy's legs feeling like jelly. These daydreams had been a problem for him for quite some time. It wasn't like it was a crime to get all hot and bothered over his partner! Yet, lately, an unexplainable sense of shame builds inside him whenever his mind wanders to more…impure scenarios with them. 

Because despite what anyone might think of him and how he jokes about it, he's a little scared of being intimate with someone—no—with Honey.

Oh fuck, someone asked him a question.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine. Just a lil’ tired, I guess.”

And he isn’t lying, really. The fatigue of making pizzas and serving tables was no joke and, with all the very interesting fantasies occupying his mind, his shift slightly just got more difficult to get through than what he was used to. (Thank god he's not on delivery duty right now. He's self-aware enough to know he would get into an accident with his current situation)

His co-workers still looked suspicious but accepted his answer nonetheless, hurriedly going back to their tasks to avoid the wrath of their manager. The man let out a sigh of relief as he resumed his own tasks for the day.

As his grueling shift came closer to an end, he was more than ready to take the apron off and get the absolute fuck out of that kitchen.

—

Guy might actually be the first person in all of Dahlia to dread coming home to an apartment that he shared alongside his (literal!) dream partner who was waiting for him after a long, tiring day at work.

Honey, who was all bundled up in a blanket on the couch, paused the show playing on the T.V. to face their boyfriend and properly greet him, “Hey, welcome home. How’s work?”

“It was shit. Did you eat already?”

He saw them already heading their way to their small kitchen, reaching for something in the refrigerator. “Yeah, I left some for you in the fridge. We can heat it up if you want?”

“Nah, it’s okay. I ate back at the restaurant. What are you watchin’?” But before he could get a reply, Guy’s body stiffened when he felt a light shock from where Honey had suddenly touched his upper arm. 

Light touches.

Heavy panting.

Hot air.

“Oh, f-fuck, Guy. Do that again, hon. Please. Don’t stop, don’t—”

“ —think I didn’t hear you, mister! What do you mean your day was shit?” If Honey had noticed their boyfriend flinching at the mere tap on his shoulder, they didn’t comment on it. 

“U-uhm,” He coughed and shrugged lamely to hide his reaction. “Just the usual stuff.” The man put down all his stuff on the nearby coffee table. “C-can I just lay on your chest for a while? If it’s okay with you.”

Despite Honey’s aloofness, they can recognize when their partner is truly in need (And who could say no when their boyfriend’s usual chaotic self sounds so adorable being shy?) The gentleness in their gaze was enough to calm Guy’s frazzled mind, even just for a bit, before sitting on the sofa and patting on the empty spot beside them, albeit looking quite unsure on how to comfort him.

“C’mere. Do…do you wanna talk about it?"

Guy simply shakes his head before letting himself crash onto the couch and into his beloved's (with the second "e" pronounced!) welcoming arms—or, at least, what welcoming might look on Honey. He can feel the rigidness of their posture, remembering how awkward they can be with physical touch, yet here they are, going out of their comfort zone just to make sure he feels better. 

It makes him guiltier to know why he was acting like this in the first place.

“Can you…talk about your day instead, Honey?” 

They rolled their eyes with a fond smile, “Fine, but don’t think I’m letting go of it that easily, m’kay?” 

As Honey recounts the events of their day (which honestly isn't much), their stiff demeanor eventually relaxed to the point where they were more comfortable with absentmindedly giving affection, unaware that they’d been playing with Guy's hair for the past few minutes. The gentle massages on his scalp were a much-needed distraction for his mind.

That is until he felt a sharp tug from Honey in an attempt to untangle their fingers between his messy locks.

Fistfuls of hair.

Skin on skin.

Arched backs.

"Fuck, keep doin’ that, Honey. Oh–” 

“—shit! Sorry about that. Did I pull too hard?” Honey was already moving their fingers away from his head before Guy quickly (a little too quickly) halted the movement. Guy guided Honey’s hand back to its original place on his head, squeezing ever so slightly.

“No! It's okay, Honey. Just…keep it there.”

Honey gives him a knowing smirk, “You are acting so weird, you know that?”

“Just indulge in a poor man’s wishes, will you?” Guy dramatically lamented, really wanting to avoid the conversation and go back to relaxing and getting some rest. 

“Whatever you say, man,” They replied, resuming from where they left off with their story. 

As much as Guy would love to listen, his focus started wandering elsewhere as his mind drifted to sleep. 

The ticks of the clock, the scent of Honey’s body wash, the number of their eyelashes.

The texture of Honey's soft blanket.

Messy sheets.

Desperate thrusts.

Sweat dripping.

"Oh god, G-Guy, I think–I think I'm g-gonna–"

"--come?"

"H-huh?" Guy hadn't realized how hard he was gripping the throw pillow on his lap. At this point, he’s going to expose himself one way or another if he keeps being out of it. He tried his best to compose himself, hiding his distress behind a laugh. "S-sorry, Honey. Could you repeat that?"

Honey did a face, softly chuckling for a bit, before repeating their question. "I said; 'I'm gonna go buy a gift for Ollie’s birthday tomorrow morning, do you wanna come? It’s your day off tomorrow, right?”

“Uh, y-yeah. Of course. I’d love to, Honey!”

Honey stared for what felt like forever before making a face again, this time, looking like they had just been enlightened by something and letting out a snort that was so adorable, Guy almost forgot why he was avoiding their gaze.

"Pfft– Guy, you—" Honey said through their stifled giggles (that was a tell-tale sign of the belly laughs they only share with him and no one else). They never got to finish the sentence, trying but, ultimately interrupting themselves with their own laughter.

He smiled, happy to see them show this much emotion towards him when to others they tend to be more closed off (albeit, a little confused about what caused it so suddenly). “I'm what, Honey? Hey! I'm what? Do I have something on my face?”

“You’re—pfft!” 

Familiar playful slaps targeted his thighs with a faint sting he’s too far used to. He notices that their smile had their teeth showing, too busy laughing to cover it with their hand like they often do. 

Guy’s crumbling.

He knew his desires were seeping through the cracks and it took all of his willpower to resist tackling them then and there—to feel every inch of their body and give them every last bit of pleasure they rightfully deserved. But he can't. He shouldn't.

So, he opts for a kiss on the cheek instead. 

Something sweet enough to mask how hard his mind was reeling with overly aggressive affection. As he continued with his fleeting, featherlight attacks on Honey's face, his lips felt the smile that their mouth formed (accompanied by an out-of-breath “Guy, that tickles!”) and he found that pulling away was more difficult than he thought.

After a while of innocent pecks and bubbling snorts, Honey raised a hand to wipe a tear from their eye. They were looking directly at him now, eyes soft with their lips slightly parted and panting from laughing too hard.

Lips. Their lips.

“Guy, you good?”

A man can only have so much self-control before he breaks.

The next few moments felt like a blur. A hitched breath, a tightened grip. His lips hungrily meet theirs and the moan he immediately lets out was almost pathetic. But he couldn’t give a damn about anything other than the pleasurable weight grinding down on his crotch. 

They felt so good. Everything felt so fucking good. The spinning in his mind paired with the aching throb of his cock were all too much to handle that he can’t even tell if this was real or if it was the same fantasies that had been torturing him all day.

No. It’s real. It’s all real.

Despite the haze in his surroundings—despite all the noise—the only thing occupying Guy’s thoughts were the whimpers coming out of Honey that were better than anything he could have ever dreamed of. 

“Fuck,” He swore under his breath, the friction against his growing bulge breaking down any sense of sanity he had left. Guy squeezed their thigh a little harsher than intended, making Honey loudly moan out in surprise.

He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into their mouth, lapping up all the sounds he managed to coax out of them. Honey’s hands found their way to his hair, tugging like last time with more intent than before and it dragged out a needy whine from his throat muffled between their lips.

Unfortunately, the breathlessness he was experiencing isn't the same type he feels when he's around Honey and he remembered that humans do, in fact, need oxygen in their system. He pulled away from them for a quick breath, taking pleasure in how they desperately chased his lips with a soft whine, before immediately aiming at their jaw, sucking, licking, and biting skin as it trails down on their neck. 

Honey is quick to respond, their fingers ghosting the hem of his work uniform before sliding them up, keeping his squirming body steady by grabbing his waist with one hand as the other roams to his chest, the shirt riding up with it and they feel his heartbeat speed up against his ribcage.

The sensation leaves Guy lightheaded. He swore he could see stars, especially after their warm palms stroked past a particular spot he didn’t even know he was sensitive to. The action had him writhing under the weight on his lap and Honey’s sudden thrust against his clothed dick brought out a stuttered gasp from him with his hips bucking up involuntarily. 

“Shit, baby,” Honey whispered, the strain in their voice evident as they grind down harder just to hear Guy’s wanton moans one more time. “So fucking needy.”

Hot breaths.

Bare skin.

Intoxicating scents.

This felt like Deja vu.

Guy had seen this before. He dreamt of it so much that it felt like second nature for his body. During nights when his partner hadn’t been home yet and he was feeling oh so, lonely—so desperate. Nights when his imagination had gone truly wild, the same scenario that he had been replaying over and over again. The one where he would have them in a panting mess.

He vividly remembers what goes next. The movement is practiced—etched into his memory. Every bone, every nerve in his system practically has it memorized in its core. 

He pins them on the arm of their sofa, the air is hot and heavy. One final passionate kiss, one final slip of his tongue, one final grind between their legs, and his hands would reach down, down where they needed him the most to—

“A-ah, Guy, w-wait!” 

And just like that, Guy’s mind snaps back to reality. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“I-it’s okay.”

“No, no, I’m really sorry. I–” He hurries to back away, pushing off his body and sitting upright with an arm’s distance away from an equally disheveled Honey. Fuck, they looked so pretty with their lips swollen like that. His eyes guiltily avoided the abundance of purple marks he wasn't even aware he left on their neck. Shit, focus!  “I don’t know what came over me. I’m–”

“Guy, it’s okay, I like it!” Honey cuts him off, not allowing their boyfriend to give himself to blame for something that didn’t even need his apologies. “I like it a lot. I was just…worried. Ever since you came home you were acting kind of off and I don’t want you to go through with this when I feel like something’s bothering you.”

Honey reaches out to him with concerned eyes, which should probably be an indicator for Guy of how odd he has been acting as of late. Their fingers find his knuckles, gently tracing circles on them as they patiently wait for his response.

Guy never knew his heart could beat faster, given how…intimate their latest activities were, but here he is, out of breath and falling in love all over again.

“I-I know this is kinda weird and I’m being really weird and everything is weird right now but I…uhm. Well, I guess you were right about me being all bark but no bite after all, eh?” He cringes at the way his voice cracked at the end and clears his throat for the nth time today.

“Okay, what I’m trying to get to is that…I've…been thinking about you…in a not-so-wholesome way for a while now. And I know, I know, this isn't new. I've flirted with you before and you already said you were okay with it, even with the raunchier ones but I'm just…"

Guy nervously looks away to the side, his eyes downcast to avoid Honey's curious stare. "This feels like a whole new thing now that we’re actually together and it really means a lot to me. Us. You're actually one of the best things to ever come into my life and I don't want my lack of…keeping it in my pants…to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner."

The deafening silence that followed his vulnerable confession might possibly be one of the worst things he ever had to experience. Then, a sudden giggle tore through the tense atmosphere.

Honey was laughing again.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to laugh but w-was that the thing that’s been bothering you?”

They moved closer to their boyfriend, that's currently sporting a comically betrayed look on his face. “I've noticed your hard-on already, Guy. And don’t worry, I've been…thinking about you like that too for a while now.”

Guy wished nothing more than to get swallowed by the ground beneath him.

“I–What the fu–YOU—!” Guy sputtered, not quite sure if he should feel relieved or embarrassed at the moment but one thing stuck to his thoughts, Honey felt the same.

“Honeeeey! You can't just say that and—I can’t believe you would—! Oh, you have no idea how much I've been through today!”

“I'm sorry!” But their shit-eating grin says otherwise and Guy can't help not to get mad anymore with that face. “Besides, it was kinda cute seeing you all flustered for once. Serves you right, you brat.”

“Oh wow, I’m the brat in this situation? You…torment me and now you degrade me with such scornful slander?” The man places a hand on his chest melodramatically. “I’m heartbroken, Honey…and still hard!”

"Hm…Well, then," Honey's half-lidded gaze directs itself to Guy's lips. The sultry tone of their voice tickles his brain in the best way possible. "Do you want me to—"

Guy lets out a surprised squeak as his back suddenly hits their sofa with a forceful 'thump!' Their hand is placed on the side of his head, fingers twisting around his curls. The other found its way on his thumping chest, carefully sliding downwards at an antagonizing pace.

"—lend you a hand? After all, I must’ve been quite the headache for you, in more ways than one." 

“Oh no,” Guy started, easily maneuvering their positions to have his partner on their back “No, no, no, you’ve been teasing me for far too long, Honey.”

“Let me," He drags his hips across theirs and he revels in the way Honey chokes on their breath. “Handle this. Is that alright with you, baby?” He wishes he could take a picture of this moment. Seeing them writhe under him was a sight he never wanted to forget.

Honey gulps before their lips form a nervously excited grin. Their pupils are blown wide in anticipation. "You better get to work then, Guy." 

Then, they slowly lean towards Guy to whisper their next words to his burning ears, “And don’t worry about being rough, hon. I can take it.”

Guy is a daydreamer.

But no daydream can ever compare to the reality he's going to be experiencing right now.