#that looks a little more ready-for-action; i like it!!

[jjenthusee]

Like The Sun

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: As your relationship deepens, you have to face some unsolved feelings. It can be frightening, but a little bit of honesty can take you far.

Tags: no y/n, slight miscommunication but nothing too painful (i hope), fluff, hurt/comfort, jason is learning to communicate, reader is also bad at communicating lol, trigger warning: grief

Word Count: 5.0k

Ten days.

Ten full days since you went completely silent on Jason. No contact, no phone calls, just a couple messages to make sure you were alive, but nothing more.

Ten full days and he hadn’t burst through the front door by tracking your phone and coming up with thirty-four complete ways you could possibly be tied limb-to-limb in an abandoned warehouse.

And it took one message. A single text to start the pitfall of a week.

You: Hey Jay, I’m gonna stay home tonight, just need the evening to myself.

Sending the message was difficult enough, but there was no use in pushing yourself outside your apartment door that day.

Everything felt off from the morning.

The way your water tasted, the breakfast you tried to stomach, the feel of your clothes on your skin.

It didn’t make it any better that your hair wasn’t styling right, your washer was acting up, and it was your last straw when you stained your kitchen counter.

But nothing made your heart drop like seeing Jason read your message. There was the same three dots reappearing and disappearing until it left the screen completely.

Jason was thinking most likely. Maybe analyzing how this possibly surfaced.

He was very keen on your behaviors, your mannerisms, and he knew the words you tended to use the most. He knew how you couldn’t remember specific words when you were excitedly telling him a story. He also knew you picked at your nails when you were deep in thought.

You knew he was analyzing.

And it was just your luck that he was a damn good detective.

You could picture the way his eyebrows would downcast far enough to shield over his eyelids as he looked over his phone. It was likely he would be radiating, building an intensity around him as he focused to understand what was happening.

It was a new habit he was picking up the longer he knew you. A habit developed from his effort to not jump from one extreme to another. He started to deeply consider his next moves, what words wouldn’t give off the wrong impression, and how to get even a thread closer to knowing what you needed.

It was the most thought he had given to his personal relationships in a long time.

Then one thumbs up emoji later, you felt a weird sense of relief and guilt for the alone time you asked for because you knew better than to go completely silent.

But you were even more surprised that he was allowing you to be this silent. It was almost funny that he had reasoned with himself to send a single emoji after all that build up.

Last year, one dead phone and multiple missed calls had him ready to tear down Gotham City for an entire evening. You thought he wouldn’t do such a thing, but he had done it before, so—just maybe, a second time wasn’t impossible.

But this behavior was new. For him and for you.

But it also was a time of change in your relationship. A major shift from just platonic to understanding where romance was going to take the two of you.

He must’ve been holding back because you asked him directly for it. He was complying and only tried to contact you back with only a single phone call you didn’t answer and a couple messages that you managed to respond, ironically, with a thumbs up.

This would hurt Jason and you knew for sure it was hurting you.

But words are easier to sugarcoat and your actions were too honest, too raw to cover up with excuses.

Now, ten long days later, you had sent no new messages to him in two days because there was just a lot of time where you let your mind blankly go through the week.

You hoped this would end soon, but you needed some time to sit in your apartment with no rush to think about anything else.

And sometimes that started with boiling some water for a quick meal of some decently made pasta.

You watched as the water start to slowly boil with the steam radiating off the top of the pot. You stood from the side of the kitchen counter, pausing from chopping some veggies for the sauce.

Everything felt so eerily quiet. The usual busy street outside the window felt weirdly muted. It was late, but even this much silence for Gotham felt unusual in an unsettling way.

Less cars were honking and the city lights protruded the thin curtains over your windows. The warmest light that was let in was from the lamp near your couch and the overhead stove light.

Your blank mind kept coming in waves. But you started to realize that grief was like that. It was hard on your mind and body despite having a good day because something always reminds you—it makes you remember the deep, ingrained loss.

If the torture of grief was already hard enough for losing one person, it wasn’t easy that it brought you back to the heart-wrenching night of also losing Jason.

It was a twisted game that life repeatedly stabbed you with and you were the player they decided to pick on.

Since Jason came back to life, to Gotham, and to you, you never knew what to do with the unresolved mixed emotions. There wasn’t many people to ask for advice on how to deal with this healthily. You already felt crazy enough trying to google it.

Fsshhh.

The water you were supposed to be watching was boiling over quickly and broke you out of your depressing thoughts. You had to lean over just enough to not burn your skin from the sloshing water while adjusting the switch on the stove to turn off the burner as the water simmered down.

“Crap.” You turned to try to grab the kitchen towel but realized you had thrown it near the cutting board you were using.

With one swoop of the fabric, you hadn’t realized the rag was inched enough below the handle of the knife that it flung the entire blade to the floor, nearly missing cutting your foot.

You gasped a moment too late as you witnessed too many bad things happening one after another.

Everything felt even worse once you remembered it was your only clean knife. You hadn’t bothered washing any of the dirty dishes from the past week of staying home from work.

Not a breath later, you startled at your phone buzzing on the counter and a light knock echoing from your window.

——

Silence.

It scared the hell out of Jason.

It reminded him of how alone he felt and was.

It left too much room to think and to get one step closer to spiraling.

That’s why Gotham, as shit as it was some days, had him glad for how busy the place was. He could hide in its chaos that never wavered even for all the masked vigilantes of the night.

It wasn’t in his interest to follow the caped family and he easily fixed the bothersome brothers with a good block on his phone and wiping his existence as much as he could. It also didn’t hurt to make a deal with the Oracle, so it left one less person capable of helping the others find him.

Sometimes it was easier when they gave up on some days. Like how they were busy with their own lives to try to meddle in his for a couple hours.

Luckily, this was just another night of opportunity to get his business done without domino masks blocking his way. Then he would grapple back to your familiar path to see if you were up for an early walk up the emergency stairs to your apartment rooftop.

He always looked forward to watching the way the sun reflected in your eyes and that intense feeling in his chest had Jason wanting to drag you out every morning if he could.

As much as Jason wanted to zero in on his daydreams of sunrises and the chaos of letting Gotham seep back into his skin, he was looking at his locked phone screen on the top of a run-down movie theater he was patrolling on. He was trying to investigate a drug drop to see who he was going to put a couple holes in for the evening, but the wind that invaded his leather jacket felt chilling and the vibration from his pocket had him wondering.

Suddenly the chill in his bones was blurring the message you sent and struck his nerves almost as badly as the nights he spent locked and surrounded by screeching metal, but he smacked his helmet with the back of his pistol before he could start a painful hallucination back to those times.

Pain rung in his wrist, but that wouldn’t get in his way of clearing up the punching bags walking below his feet, unaware of what was in store for them.

But the most surprising thing he’d seen that night was from the tiny screen illuminating the dark alley he stood in as the knocked-out bodies of the men he was tailing laid around his feet.

It was confusing.

Jason had thought there was progress in whatever relationship he was developing with you, but like an axe had been taken to his heart, reality hit him that maybe that was too good to be true.

The sensation of his buzzing helmet that knocked him from bad memories to reality was starting to strain his neck.

But he wouldn’t be able to solve the problem in his hand with another swing of his pistol.

Jason was trying not to sway, to not let the words spin and double from the phone.

“An evening…to myself.” Jason mumbled as he read the end of the message out loud.

What the hell could he say to this?

His eyebrows lowered the more he tried to think, but his overthinking tendencies were besting him.

It was out of the question that he was going to tell you ‘no.’ How could he refuse you some alone time?

He’d done enough of bailing on you over the last couple months when he felt overwhelmed, so Jason felt in no position to stop you from this.

He had improved that horrible behavior from the moment your affection was becoming more bolder, but he didn’t think it was worthy enough of a change to prevent something you wanted.

He had gotten a stern lecture from you the last time he raided the entire underground criminal ring to see if someone had taken you.

Once he realized an uncharged phone almost had him eliminating the entire criminal population of Gotham City, he realized he didn’t understand the extent of his feelings.

Jason was letting himself get deeper into the relationship you allowed him to build with you and now it scared the hell out of him that you were gone before he could tell you about any of it.

And like the continuing coward he knew he was, you still didn’t know about it.

Jason dragged a glove down his face, but hit the metal of his helmet and it smoothly glided down before he could not let himself think about this anymore.

It would have gone smoothly if Jason had the emotional intelligence skills to handle this, but not only did he realize he was a coward, he was also just stupid.

“A thumbs-up?”

The sudden voice coming from Jason’s helmet had him jumping out of his skin. On instinct, he readily held his pistol with his finger ready on the trigger.

His hands were faster than his mind because he realized that annoying voice was from Oracle herself.

“I have to reprogram this damn helmet again.” Jason groaned, putting his weapon back into his holster and putting his phone away fully from the prying eyes.

“I’m glad to hear that you’re fine, Ja—“

“Red. Hood. We’ve been over this. It’s Red Hood.”

The silence from his helmet had Jason feeling somewhat guilty for the attitude he was giving the one person who tried to have patience with him, but she always struck a nerve of boundaries with him.

“Why are you tracking me and seeing my camera feed? This was off limits according to our deal.” Jason picked up the bodies of the men he knocked out and dragged them against the nearest dirtied brick wall.

“We also agreed on no casualties.” Babs argued back.

��Relax, you hacker. They’re still alive…for the night.” Jason lowered his voice when it reached the truth.

“Ja—Red Hood, this isn’t in the deal either.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll give ‘em something to survive into tomorrow. Now stop snooping.” Jason grabbed some medical supplies from his utility belt.

“I didn’t mean to read your messages, I just noticed the lack of movement from you for the night. I wanted to check in.”

“From my helmet feed?”

“Okay, it was going to be a quick look because I know how much you avoid these chats.” Babs sighed, rubbing her temple above her headset. “And I must say, a thumbs up wasn’t a better idea than what I did.”

“That’s enough.” Jason felt a headache forming.

“Wait—“

The call was over as Jason powered off his helmet’s extensive features and opted for no settings, but a plain red helmet.

“I don’t have time for this.” He mumbled, fighting the itch to just run back to your place, but that wasn’t an option anymore.

As he stood from the dark alley, Jason couldn’t hear anything, but an eery quiet.

He knew it was going to be a long night, but he didn’t realize it would be much longer than that.

A long silence.

God, Jason hated it, but your silence was all he wanted right now, he needed it.

——

You reached for the bright screen illuminating the muted kitchen and read the familiar name you had been avoiding.

Jay: brought some food Alfred dropped by for me earlier, thought you would want a piece since it’s your favorite.

Jay: left it outside the window, leaving now

You hopped over the knife still on the floor, running toward the closed window. In one motion, you were throwing aside the blinds, holding on to your phone, and prying open the curtains while trying to open the window.

You had tangled up the blinds, but you didn’t care in your rush to see a glimpse of the vigilante possibly still outside on the emergency exit ledge.

When you managed to peek out to feel the cold evening air, your eyes searched for the red helmet. For any sort of glint of light that bounced off his patrol gear, but nothing caught your eye.

It was like searching for a shadow in the dark, but like hell did you give everything in you to try to search for him.

When you gave up, your eyebrows crinkled in disappointment as your breaths caught in warm puffs from the rapid exhales. Then as you looked down to calm yourself, you saw the familiar lunch bag that Alfred used for deliveries. It struck something deep in your chest.

All this avoiding was hurting you.

You wanted Jason.

You needed him right now.

It was so simple, but you didn’t realize it until you saw the warm meal, the clumsy but patient silence from Jason to respect your space, and how completely exhausted you were of being alone in such a painful time.

You wanted the one man that you knew would lay with you through the hell of your mind.

You: how long until patrol is over?

You: i’ll wait for you

Within seconds, a response popped up.

Jay: On my way

With half your body still outside your window, you felt your arms shiver and your skin prick, but you lightly smiled into the brightness of your phone. A dry laugh almost came out at the relief that he was coming back.

In one soft leap and the release of a grapple wire, you finally saw the red helmet meet your eyes.

“What’s wrong? Did someone break in? Did I say something wrong?” Jason’s voice broke out of the modulated voice, morphing into his usual raspy one as he pulled off the helmet. His domino mask stuck to his face still blocking his eyes from you, but you perfectly watched how his eyes moved to the phone in your hand down to the untouched lunch bag. “Oh no, did I accidentally smush the food? Maybe I swung it too hard on my way here—“

You reached forward, your stomach digging into the window stool, but you didn’t care as you gripped the collar of his leather jacket. Pulling him toward you as he let you maneuver his body into your arms.

You squeezed him, pushing your face into the crevice of his neck and feeling his soft touch of his skin against yours, the slight smell of his sweat from the exertion he puts his body through every night on patrol, and the shared shampoo you bought together.

It just felt right.

A cloudy night sky, the moon barely peaking out to brighten the late night, all to grace the outline of the man held tightly in your arms.

“I missed you.” You whispered, as lightly as possible, so just you and the moon would hear what you said, but Jason rested his hands on your back and squeezed, crinkling your shirt in between his fingers.

“I’m right here.”

After a couple moments of breathing in his scent, Jason gently pulled you out of the safety of his neck and looked at you. You traced his arms and shoulders, to trail his neck with your fingers. Lightly sending shivers up his skin as you reached his stubble on his jaw.

The prick on your skin felt too good as you kept moving your hands to the edges of the mask.

You felt the smooth edge, ready to press your fingers to remove it to see Jason’s clear eyes. Before you could begin to peel it off, Jason held your wrists, halting them from doing anything more than what you planned.

“Please. Please, not out here.” He pleaded, heavily breathing into the minimal space between your faces.

You nodded in response, your throat too closed up in emotions to say anything.

You moved your body from the window and Jason moved one foot inside, taking the lunch bag and his helmet with him.

You stood closely to him, not giving him enough space to freely pull himself comfortably inside, but you wanted to try to push your luck tonight in being as physically close as you could without making him feel uncomfortable.

Once Jason closed the window and attempted to straighten the tangled blinds, he noted the clear mess you left in a hurry.

Before he could comment on it, you stepped toward him. Resting your forehead onto his chest plate.

It was so cold, but it also brought relief to how heated your face was getting in your unusual clingy behavior.

But this was Jason. Your Jay.

You looked up. Looking into the white eyes of the mask irritated you. You regained your motivation to remove it, he wouldn’t stop you now that you were inside the apartment.

With dim lights and a warm glow on one side of his face, you retraced your steps, feeling his chest rise under your palms.

It felt magnificent to watch the way your touch and gaze made him react. It touched you how willing and clumsily he tried to hide these unconscious responses.

You felt the edge of the domino mask again, feeling your finger try to part the specially made material from his skin. Once you got a good grip, you took it off his face, watching his eyes open to see you.

It was breathtaking how much you missed his presence despite you wanting to be away from it.

You used your thumbs to trace his eye bags. They looked much darker than the last time you saw them.

“You’re not mad?” Jason hesitantly asked, grabbing the loose fabric of your shirt again, smoothing out any wrinkles.

“I was never mad.” You let him continue to pick at your shirt.

“It's been ten days. I’ve been worried out of my mind trying to not barge in here.” Jason leaned into your hand still on his face. “But the last time I did that you were pissed.” He dryly chuckled, less amused, but sadly letting his voice out.

“I’m sorry I didn’t explain anything. It’s just another case of…grief.” You breathed out the confession. “It’s not an excuse, but it hasn’t been easy on me right now.”

Jason silently grabbed your hand to kiss the inside of your palm, it made the pain of making him wait for you worse, but also eased your worries.

“I feel so pathetic telling you all of this.” You exhaustedly admitted to the man lovingly holding your hands over his face.

“No, no, please don’t say that, I would never want you to feel like that.” He worriedly looked down at you. Trying his best to read your thoughts through his eyes. “I only want to be right here, even if you feel at your lowest.”

As he continued to read you, he hesitated, trying to determine his next words.

“I admit that I asked Alfred to make his signature dish for you. I know how much you like it and it was the only way I could think to get close enough to your apartment without disturbing you.” His hair drooped with his words. It was almost comical how in tune his hair was with his frowning expression.

You smiled.

“Thank you for doing that. It actually helped me to realize how much I wanted you next to me, but I was too stubborn about it.” You pushed Jason’s droopy hair out of his eyes, watching the dark and white strands mix together. “You know me too well.”

“Don’t be too forgiving, I might have completely ruined your dinner.” Jason finally smiled.

God, you missed that look.

“You saved it actually, I made a complete mess before I got your message.”

“That explains the knife on the floor.” Jason locked onto the blade, not at all pleased at the danger it became.

“Nearly sliced my toe.”

“That’s actually really bad.”

“We can worry about that later, I want to eat the meal Alfred packed. Can you eat with me?” You asked, trying to get his attention back on you.

“Okay, let me take my gear off.”

Within moments you sat at your dining table when Jason reappeared in comfortable clothes. He had changed into a hoodie he left previously and some sweats.

You didn’t bother turning on more lights when Jason picked up the knife on your kitchen floor and lightly cleaned the counters before he felt content enough to sit next to you.

You didn’t say much during your meal. The light awkwardness was settling when you realized you never cleared up what was going on inside your mind and led to your disappearance.

He must have had questions. He was being very careful in approaching you today.

“You don’t have to tell me.” He said nonchalantly.

“What?”

“You don’t have to say anything. At least if you don’t feel like it today.” Jason picked at his food. Moving the pieces around rather than trying to pick up something. “I didn’t come here to ask you for anything. But…I won’t go anywhere.”

You stared at him, watching his side profile relieve the doubt in your mind.

“When I turned around…she wasn’t there.” You spoke. Finally letting the truth out as Jason perked his head to you. “I always turned around before I left, so when I turned around this time to see her, I wasn’t prepared to not meet her eyes. When she wasn’t right there, it was just…so painful.”

Jason put down his eating utensil, listening and watching you do the opposite and focus in on the metal in your hands.

“It was so random. I was at the grocery store when I was buying ingredients for dinner and unconsciously, I started buying stuff she liked. Y’know, I barely cried through the funeral service, but I saw everything in her. I remembered sharing meals with her and when I realized I had everything she enjoyed in my basket, I left before I could cry in the aisles.”

Jason grabbed your hand, squeezing every time you tried to blink back tears, but the burn in your eyes wouldn’t go away.

“I can’t have meals with her anymore.” You shakily said out loud like the still waves of grief were finally crashing down onto you as you spoke into existence what you ran from.

“But, despite all the pain I was feeling, I also thought of you, Jay. It was so hard to grasp my love for you after you left me when we were kids. You lived with so much love and I’m glad you shared that with me—“

“No, I didn’t live anything like that—“ Jason refused your words, he knew he didn’t deserve it.

“But, you did. I felt it and many other people did. I realized I never properly mourned you that day and I just pushed it down until the two of us were in a dark alley entangled back into each other’s lives.”

Jason couldn’t think of anything to say, so he let you continue to speak.

“We handled too much as kids and I can’t imagine the pressures that you had to go through. Bruce, Robin, the trauma. I know you try not to think much about the past, but you deserve to grieve who you were and the kid you could’ve been.”

You finally looked up, feeling worked up enough to fully face Jason. You saw his wide eyes as he couldn’t say anything despite his mouth trying to move. To voice something to you.

Then his eyes calmed as he started to organize his thoughts, taking in the vulnerability you so willingly placed in front of him.

Fighting the bile and tears he was trying to fiercely push down, he could only handle so much at a time.

Maybe you were right.

Maybe he could grieve, but he didn’t know how yet.

So, he would focus on the first thing he decided to do. It was to speak the truth.

“But…I wouldn’t take back that first life I had. I met you, we faced some horrible people because of Robin, but the fact is…that I spent my first life loving you. Sometimes that thought is the only thing that can get me through those days—when time really feels like it’ll stop again. It scares the absolute shit outta me.”

“Jay…”

“Who would’ve thought that I lost all of that, but how did I still get lucky enough to get a second chance with you? I honestly can’t believe it some—most days.”

He wouldn’t look at you, the heavy air of vulnerability surrounding the space between you. A lovely grip that kept your eyes focused on the man next to you.

“I just…I debated whether we should even be in contact. But some part of me also wanted to take back this part of the old me. To let me have something. Even if that is just staying next to you. I think it’s why I freak out when I don’t hear from you.”

You got up to stand next to Jason’s chair. You reached out to test touching his shoulder, lightly threading your fingers over his hoodie. When he didn’t back away, you moved to hug him, to hold his head against your chest. As you laid your head on top of his, Jason moved into your warmth. Wrapping his arms around your waist.

It hurt to hear that Jason felt like nothing of who he was before his death, but you could see the ingrained part of him that never changed.

Sure, he was growing up and being influenced by not only Bruce anymore, but you were there to stay.

“I won’t leave you in the dark again, I learned that I can’t do this alone. I know we can’t change over night, but I want you to know that your presence right now is enough. You are enough, Jay.” You rubbed his head and back.

Jason felt his eyes sting, so he held you against him a little harder, squeezing you as desperately as he felt. Trying to cover his face and let himself sink into your body.

It was silent again.

But Jason didn’t hate it. At all.

——

“My eyes are so puffy. I can’t believe you dragged me up here. I haven’t gotten an ounce of sleep.” You complained as you trudge up the steps to the roof.

Jason followed right behind making sure to hold onto the railing and watching your every step. Then he started to rub your lower back to soothe your complaints.

He didn’t feel guilty about it any of it though.

“You’re carrying me down ‘cause I’m not making the same trip down.” You grumbled along to your steps.

“That’s not a good idea, I don’t want to risk it.” Jason easily paced next to you.

Vigilante stamina was something else.

“Says the guy who grapples everywhere. Why can’t we grapple down?”

“The sun’s almost out. We missed the chance.” Jason smiled as he helped gently push you up the final steps.

When you made it up the final climb, you felt the slight sweat prickle your skin and Jason’s lips touch your forehead.

Within seconds, you plopped onto the ledge, feeling Jason securely wrap himself around you and ready for any sort of emergency.

“You must really like sunrises.” You exhaled to catch your breath and leaned your head onto his shoulder, the muscle was perfect to put your weight on.

“Not really.” Jason intertwined your hand with his.

“I’m too tired to get mad at you. I’ll do it after we have a nap.” You sleepily yawned.

“Heh, alright.” Jason held you tight.

It was a quiet morning. The rare weather allowed a clear sky to watch the sky change colors and illuminate.

And Jason was focused on none of it.

——

A/N: wow! this was longer than i imagined it would be and i waited to have a little space for me to talk :) but im back after being silent for a while. it wasn’t planned and sadly before the year ended, i lost my grandma and it was a lot to deal with. grief is no joke on how it works, BUT i’ve set some time to really take a step back and focus on myself. i didn’t mean for this writing to go in that direction, but i tend to get inspiration from parts of my life to make the writing feel more genuine. This page has made me laugh, talk to amazing people, and share these writing when I thought they wouldn’t go anywhere but my phone. it’s such a comforting thought that some ppl look forward to seeing something new from jjenthusee! 🤍 ik the world isn’t the best right now, it’s hard to deal with, but please take care of yourselves and enjoy a little bit of jason for yours truly 😊 please leave positive comments, spam a like or two, and have some flowers 💐

[itsnesss]

hello! could you write a junho x reader where he gets jealous??? and some fluff where he tries to act like hes not jealous but he totally is 😭

𝐝��𝐧𝐲 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | after a work event, jun-ho struggles to hide his jealousy when he sees you talking to a charming coworker. though he denies it, his actions give him away. with playful teasing and heartfelt reassurances, you remind him that he’s the only one who matters to you

warnings | fluff, romance, mild jealous

word count | 1.6 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The night was cool, and the air in Seoul carried a faint aroma of street food. You had just spent the last few hours at a social event for your office—a dinner that brought together every department at an upscale restaurant. It wasn’t exactly your idea of fun, but the company had been pleasant, especially one of your coworkers, Lee Min-kyu.

Min-kyu was known for being outgoing and friendly, always ready to help and with a charisma that drew everyone’s attention. You’d spent much of the night chatting with him, laughing at his jokes, and swapping work stories. It was so entertaining that you didn’t notice the message from Jun-ho, who had been waiting outside the restaurant.

When you finally stepped out, he was leaning against a wall in his black jacket, his expression as serious as ever. His arms were crossed, and his gaze was fixed on the ground, but he straightened as soon as he saw you.

“How long have you been here?” you asked, surprised to see him.

“A while,” he replied, his tone casual.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

He shrugged.

“I didn’t want to interrupt. You seemed pretty entertained in there.”

You frowned, catching the faint sarcasm in his voice.

“Interrupt? Jun-ho, you can always talk to me.”

“Sure. But it looked like you had plenty of company,” he said, glancing toward the restaurant.

You turned, following his gaze, and noticed Min-kyu saying goodbye to the rest of the team, still smiling as always. Then you looked back at Jun-ho, who was now avoiding your gaze.

“Is this about Min-kyu?”

“What does he have to do with anything?” Jun-ho asked, feigning indifference.

“Come on, Jun-ho. I know you well enough to tell when something’s bothering you.”

“Nothing’s bothering me. I’m just saying it must be nice to work with someone so... outgoing.”

His tone was neutral, but there was a slight tension in his words that made you smile to yourself.

“Yeah, it is nice. He’s funny, smart, and always knows what to say to lighten the mood.”

Jun-ho’s jaw tightened for the briefest moment before he replied.

“That sounds great.”

You decided to push him a little further, unable to resist.

“Actually, he said we should go out for coffee sometime.”

Now, you saw his eyes narrow slightly, though his posture remained relaxed.

“And what did you say?”

“I said it might be fun.”

Jun-ho went quiet, staring at the street as if weighing his options. Finally, he let out a slow exhale and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Well, I hope you two have a good time.”

You stopped walking, staring at him in disbelief.

“That’s all you’re going to say?”

“What else do you want me to say?” he asked, finally looking at you.

“I don’t know… maybe that you don’t like the idea.”

Jun-ho studied you, his intense gaze locking with yours, but his expression remained unreadable.

“Why would it bother me? I’m not that kind of person.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head.

“You’re impossible.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re clearly jealous, but you won’t admit it.”

Jun-ho raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

“Jealous? I don’t get jealous.”

“Yes, you do,” you said, smiling smugly.

“No, I don’t.”

“Then why are you so serious?”

“I’m always serious. It’s my personality.”

“And why does it seem like you want to punch Min-kyu every time I mention him?”

Jun-ho let out a short, dry laugh, as if the idea were absurd.

“That’s ridiculous. I don’t have a problem with him.”

You stepped closer, standing right in front of him and forcing him to meet your gaze.

“Jun-ho, you don’t have to act like you don’t care.”

“I’m not acting.”

“Really,” you whispered, taking one of his hands in yours. “No one else interests me. It’s you. It’s always been you.”

For a moment, Jun-ho was silent, his gaze softening as he processed your words. Finally, he let out a sigh, narrowing his eyes slightly as if struggling with an internal battle.

“I wasn’t jealous,” he muttered, but his fingers gently squeezed yours, and his voice was softer.

“Of course not,” you replied, teasing lightly.

“I wasn’t.”

“Whatever you say.”

Jun-ho let out a barely audible laugh before pulling you gently into his arms, wrapping you in a warm embrace.

“Just don’t make me wait so long next time, okay?” he murmured against your hair.

You smiled, resting your head on his chest.

“Okay.”

Even if he’d never admit it, you knew you’d won this round. Because at the end of the day, his embrace said more than his words ever could.

[servndipityz]

remember how i said nam-gyu is evil the way a middle schooler is evil? that got me thinking. a lot.

if you ended up in his group, he’d so hate it. who were you to steal his spotlight? who were you to be all buddy-buddy with thanos?

there’s nothing nam-gyu would hate more than being thanos’ shadow—except not being it. so when you join their group, he’d have two possible reactions.

perhaps he’d act just like he did with se-mi, and absolutely despise you. he’d take any chance to contradict you; when you say black he says white, and sometimes he’d contradict himself in the process just to piss you off.

“the food here isn’t that bad,” you’d say, taking a mouthful of plain rice from your container.

nam-gyu would side-eye you. “it tastes like fucking shit,” he’d mutter under his breath.

so, the next day, you’d try something else. “we’ve been eating this for three days straight, it’s starting to get disgusting.”

he’d roll his eyes, “do you think we’re in a fucking buffet or what?” he’d spit, fully aware that no matter what you said, he’d find a reason to disagree.

or maybe he’d completely ignore you. you’d just be another background character to him, a little bit like gyeong-su. but it wouldn’t stop there. eventually, it’d feel intentional. he’d turn away when you spoke, walk faster if you were next to him, cut you off mid-sentence just to make it clear you didn’t exist to him. except you’d know—he wasn’t ignoring you at all. he’d adjust every little action, carefully pretending to not care, when really, all of it was about you.

either way, his mission would be the same, to get under your skin. physical contact? absolutely not off-limits. while thanos would throw a friendly arm around your shoulder, nam-gyu would tug your hair. not in a freaky, kinky way—no, he’d do it lightly, perfectly timed while the group was huddled together, so you’d have no idea who did it. but you’d always know it was him.

he’d sneak a bite of your food. pull at a loose thread on your tracksuit. toss tiny pebbles at you when no one was looking.

but he wasn’t making fun of you—not exactly. he didn’t laugh when he pissed you off. he just wanted to get to you. he’d enjoy it in a fucked up way, a way that’d genuinely make you think, what is wrong with him?

then, one night, you’d wake up—maybe because someone was snoring too loudly or because thanos wouldn’t stop tossing around—and in the dim light, you’d notice nam-gyu curled up on his bed, sleeping in fetal position with your tracksuit jacket draped over him.

he’d be gripping it, using it like a blanket. he was always cold, and you’d taken your jacket off to sleep, but you never expected him to just… take it. the way he held it, though—gripping the edges tightly, face buried in the fabric—it’d almost make you not hate him entirely.

the strangest part would come the next morning. you’d wake up to find the jacket draped over you. you’d seen him with it, so how was it back? had he…?

you’d glance at him, sitting on his bed, rubbing his eyes as he got ready for the day. you’d stare at him a moment longer, and when he noticed, he’d throw you the rudest face ever. “what?” he’d snap.

surely, he couldn’t have put it back on you. right? but you’d still wonder.

after a while, maybe he’d get used to you. used to having you around, used to you constantly making snarky retorts at him, used to having to work together. after all, you were in the same team, so technically you weren’t the enemy.

his hair-pulls would turn more into light tugs when he wanted your attention. the deliberate attempts to trip you would start being paired with his hand hovering near your wrist, ready to catch you before you actually fell. and sometimes, after a particularl harsh game, he’d casually leave his container of food half-full, just within your reach.

“don’t look at me like that,” he’d mutter, shrugging like he was annoyed. “i’m just not hungry.” then he’d walk off, sneaking a glance to make sure you were eating his leftovers.

before long, he’d start celebrating with you after a win. a quick squeeze of your shoulder, or maybe grabbing you and shaking you around if he got too excited.

at night, he’d wait every time you needed to go to the bathroom, sitting straight on his bed and watching the bathroom door from afar just to supervise that you were getting out.

“were you watching me?” you’d ask in a hushed voice, climbing back into your bed with a raised brow.

“no,” he’d whisper, almost offended. “i just couldn’t sleep.” and he’d lie back down—on a bed closer to yours than the one he originally picked. to keep the group together, he’d claimed.

“you cold?” you’d finally ask one night, although his back would be turned to you. still, you'd see his breathing stop for a split second. he was the kind of guy whose hands were always cold, the type of guy who just was always cold.

“no,” he’d say, after a long pause. a terrible liar.

you’d sigh, “okay… but you can come closer if you want.” you’d still say. at a certain point it had become quite normal to see people doing something that resembled snuggling. some of the players got cold in the night, and others just needed to hold onto someone at that point. it wasn’t exactly cuddling, but it wasn’t weird to see.

he’d stay still, and you’d be almost able to see the wheels turning in his head.

finally he’d turn around and scoot closer. just a little. and then a little more, and more, until your bodies would be almost touching, facing each other. the way the beds were arranged allowed for the players to get quite close together, if it weren’t for the small gaps between the mattresses.

he’d look at your eyes for a small while before trying to snuggle closer and burring his face down like a cat before drifting off to sleep.

at a certain point, if he wasn’t high as balls, he’d even wonder himself if he pestered you for thanos’ attention, or actually just to get yours. he’d wonder why he was always so close to you, if he iked seeing you get mad or if he just liked seeing you. if he got a kick out of messing with you—or just being with you.

and then he’d pop one of thanos’ pills and forget the whole thing.

[timetravellibrarian]

He was intriguing. That was a word you could describe Trafalgar Law as. With his expression hidden behind that hat and his seemingly elaborate plans, there's no question he is.

At first when you had met him in the bustling groves of the Sabaody Archipelago you wouldnt have guessed he would become an ally.

The crew had split up, exploring the place known to be a stop for both pirates and nobles alike. You had ended up exploring the market for something new to wear, this time with your own money instead of borrowed money from Nami that lead to a perilous amount of interest.

Little did you know that you were as famous as your bounty poster suggested, bumping into crews that not only knew your friends but also you too.

First impressions matter, no matter where you are and who you're dealing with and the first thing you said when your gaze fell on him there was certainly a lasting impression.

The dark circles, the goatee, the large hat and especially the jeans.

The Surgeon of Death

"You look like a backalley doctor."

Not only did he look shocked, but also offended. Mainly because his own crew were hiding their guffaws horribly, seeing the vision of what you meant.

This was before everything had gone haywire and crews were forced to claw their way out of the doors of death from which Admiral Kizaru and the Pacifistas had the keys to.

Now sitting on the chair beside Luffy in the hospital room aboard the Polar Tang, having flashes of the war playing through your mind left you unaware of the footsteps approaching. The so called "Surgeon of death" had become part of your usual routine, mainly checking on your wounds and informing you on your captain's condition.

You watched as he checked Luffy's vitals. You never left your friend's side since that day, not trusting anyone. Afterall, he was the only one in the crew who's state of being you were sure of.

"Are you going to keep glaring at me the whole time?" His voice broke through your thoughts as you absentmindedly watched him take out bandages he would use to redress Luffy's wounds

"Hm?"

He rolled up his sleeves, allowing more of those tattoos to be visible as he washed his hands. Your eyes fell on those inked hands that both saved lives as a doctor and the cause of unknown terrors as a pirate.

"You're worried about Strawhat-ya?" He stated, lifting Luffy's body as carefully as he could under your harsh gaze.

"Partly," You began, crossing your arms, " I'm curious. Why?"

Law felt something invisible wrap around his neck as soon as his hands had gone off of your captain. He had heard about one of the strawhats having a mysterious devil fruit. One that didn't need the beholder to even lift a finger.

He smirked, feeling your power pressing harder on his neck and allowing little air to flow through his body,"Why?"

Somehow he kept a somewhat confused expression despite the dire consequences of your actions.

"I'm not playing around, Trafalgar."

"I know you're not."

He had a chance to just throw you and Luffy out into sea. You were both anchors afterall. Turn you in for your bounties. Tortured us for treasure. Cut your organs up for whatever sick operations landed him the title he held.

So many questions in your vigilant mind .

"I felt like it," Law said, not being fully honest but also not lying. His eyes didn't leave your face, gauging out your reaction.

"Sounds like something a backalley doctor would say." You let go of him, watching as he took deep breaths to control the panic that he has hidden behind his calm facade.

"DINNERS READY!" a yell from somewhere aboard the ship had called out.

"Sorry for that." You said, no longer looking at him and instead focusing on your unconscious captain. Your fingers had intertwined with his, feeling his pulse at the wrist with your fingers to remind you that he was still alive, even after all the death and destruction of the war

Law hummed in thought, hands lingering on his neck before letting go of the initial threat to his life." I'll have dinner sent to you."

He walked out of the room to join his crew, leaving you to your thoughts as you guarded Luffy.

Two things were decided. One. You wouldn't leave your captain's side until he would wake up.

Two. Trafalgar Law found you just as intriguing.

[nymphaea-blue]

How would Rafayel be as your lover?

Info : 700+ word count, inspired by Radiant Halo - tender moments, fluff, slight mentions of possessive Rafayel, reader wears makeup.

﹒　⁺ Rafayel as your lover would not hesitate to spend money on you, he has more than enough. He would take you on expensive dates, buy you designer clothes (or design some for you himself) and buy you gifts on a weekly basis because he can, and he is more than happy to spoil you a little.

﹒　⁺ Rafayel as your lover would often help you with your makeup and clothing. He knows how to do makeup, so all you need to do is ask and he will do it with no hesitation. It's an intimate moment, one would think, with how Rafayel always looks at you when he does your makeup and helps you get ready. It's a small, domestic action but he truly cares about your comfort and he wants you to shine as brightly as possible.

“Try not to blink, cutie. We don’t want you to look like you have a blackeye the entire evening, right?” Rafayel teased you as he did your eye makeup. You were used to doing your makeup on your own, but this is a feeling you were slowly growing accustomed to as well. “Okay. Open up your eyes for me, I need to see if your eyeliner is symmetrical.” And you did as he asked, but your face immediately flushed as you noticed how close to your face he was and you couldn’t help but admire him. His face carried his signature smile that you adored and his eyes stared at you with so much love as they looked around your face, so focused on the task but also focused on you as a whole. You didn’t know you were staring until he spoke again. “It looks pretty symmetrical to me, come on, let’s go… Whatcha staring at, hm?” 

﹒　⁺ Rafayel as your lover would paint you many, many times. Most of the pieces are in his home, those are the ones that are more detailed or show your precious moments spent together, he loves to look at them and cherish how you look. A few rare paintings of you would be in galleries for others to watch, especially during his big exhibitions. Those ones are just mere representations of you, still painted with love but a mist of secrets as well, you aren't shown in full detail but everyone knows it's you. None of the pieces showcasing you ever get sold, no matter how much they want to pay for it. He wouldn't be able to deal with it if someone could just stare at you all day, you are just his after all.

﹒　⁺ Rafayel as your lover would protect you. He hired you as his bodyguard but with time, he finds himself doing that job more often. No matter how small it is, if you get uncomfortable or are in danger he will be by your side - no questions asked. He would fight for you, if he had to. Those hands aren’t just for art after all, they are perfect for holding you after a rough moment as well, and they can deliver punches too if someone dares to even try to get their hands on you without your permission.

﹒　⁺ Rafayel as your lover would have a whole room cleared for you in his home, just in case you would like to move in. Of course, if you are comfortable you are more than welcome to sleep in his room, the bed is big enough anyways and if not - then after a while of being dramatic he can sleep on the couch… or in the bathtub, for some reason.

﹒　⁺ Rafayel as your lover would be such a gentleman. He always opens the doors for you, no matter if you are entering a restaurant or just sitting down in the passenger seat of his luxurious car. He will gently take off your coat and hang it on the back of your chair, alongside your purse which he will happily carry later if your shoulder starts hurting. Whenever he wants to ask you for a dance, he will offer you a hand first with a polite “May I?”. Whenever you are out during a more serious occasion, he has everything you might need in his car or nearby - a change of shoes, bandaids, your makeup essentials, as well as a matching coat or something to cover you up if you get cold. He might not always act seriously and his demeanor can be playful, but when it comes to love, he does it right and it’s clear with the way he acts around you as if you are the most precious thing in the world, because to him - you are.

[ssentimentals]

better late than never {jeon wonwoo}

pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader

prompt: honestly? justin bieber's 'mistletoe' playing around everywhere i go

warning: none, pure fluff, enjoy my loves!

desperate times call for desperate measures. wonwoo would've been embarrassed by the whole ordeal if only he weren't so deep in his misery that even his friends agreed to go with this plan. the 'plan' is very simple - fill hoshi's apartment with as many as mistletoes as it's only possible without making it look very... obvious.

'it's almost february, it's going to be obvious anyways,' dino supplies unhelpfully. 'even if we put just one, it will catch everyone's attention cause it's a freaking mistletoe and we're way past december.'

'but that's why wonwoo bought the little ones,' mingyu argues and wonwoo could kiss him for being supportive. however, he only wants to kiss you, so he keeps his lips away from the tall giant. 'they are not very visible.'

'and isn't that a problem on its own?' hoshi mutters, holding one mistletoe up in front of his face. 'what's the point of hanging them around if they are not visible?'

wonwoo is going to cry. or combust. or do something equally illogical because they have three hours left before the party and his plan is in ruins so far. he knows you're going to come a bit earlier than everyone else just to help get the space ready for the celebration because you're sweet like that; he can't have you walk in here when they are plenty of unused mistletoes lying around.

'everyone shut up and start hanging these things around,' minghao saves the day with his decisiveness. 'tapes are on the couch. we don't have much time, c'mon. it's either this or bearing wonwoo's lovesickness for much more time and i honestly can't do it anymore.'

wonwoo rolls his eyes. 'i'm not lovesi-'

'you are,' hoshi interrupts, grabbing one tape and throwing another one in mingyu's hands. 'me and minghao will take kitchen and living room, you go do bathroom and bedroom.'

'oooh, we're gonna do bedroom?' mingyu asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 'jumping straight into the action, huh?'

dino sends him a disgusted look and then turns to wonwoo, taking two mistletoes from his hands. 'i'll go add those on the balcony, i think it's the best place for your confession.'

wonwoo swallows loudly, gripping one mistletoe which's left in his hand. because that's what it's all about here, right? for him to confess. when he first came up with this silly idea about mistletoes, it was just a joke. they were all a bit drunk, sitting in hoshi's kitchen, when wonwoo muttered that he needs a little push, some sparkle of magic to confess to you, to kiss you. and to his own surprise, his drunk mind came up with a wonderful idea - what is a better incentive to kiss than a mistletoe? fast forward one week he's here in hoshi's apartment, making sure that there is pretty much no place uncovered with the mistletoe and all he needs to do is to jsut get you alone and point on the mistletoe. in his dreams you understand what he means and kiss him. in case you will not get it, he's going to suck his fears up and confess. being honest, wonwoo dreads this scenario but he is prepared nonetheless - little note with words that are on the tip of his tongue all the time.

'done!' guys announce one by one. minghao grabs dino and goes to his car to take all the drinks, while mingyu comes over to him, wrapping one arm around his shoulders. 'it's such a cool idea, honestly. i think she will love it.'

'i agree,' hoshi comes closer, smiling. 'it's really cute. just don't fuck it up and like, not confess.'

wonwoo cringes. 'i'll try.'

mingyu laughs, slapping his back so strongly that wonwoo almost falls forward. 'you'll be fine, woo. anyone with eyes can see that you're into her and i'm 100% that she knows it too.'

'i think she likes you too,' hoshi says, always there to lift wonwoo's spirits. 'i mean, she willingly listens to you go on about your nerdy stuff, so. if that doesn't mean she likes you then i don't know what is.'

wonwoo is not sure whether to be thankful for his friends or go strangle them all. he opts for the first option and simply goes to help prepare everything else for the party, busying his mind with other things. it doesn't really work, his mind always comes back to you either way; wonwoo thinks it's kind of embarrassing, actually. it's like you're always on the background and you pop up in his head whenever he does anything random: cleaning the house? he remembers how you said you stress-clean sometimes. going out with friends? he snaps a picture of a pretty interior to send to you cause he knows you'll like it. eating something? if it's good he makes a mental noise of buying it to you so you can try it as well. your invisible presence in his life is so huge, he sometimes wonders whether you can feel that he's thinking about you. if you do then how does it feel for you? do you get a pang in the heart every time you see him too? do you also get nervous when he hovers nearby? do your fingers tremble a little from the desire to reach out, to touch, to caress lovingly? wonwoo is so out of this that it takes hoshi smacking him in the head with 'she is here, idiot!' to wake up.

'hi guys!' you sweetly wave to everyone and easily accept one-sided hug from mingyu before noticing him. wonwoo's heart skips a beat at the way your eyes twinkle at the sight of him. 'woo! hi!'

'hi,' he lets out a bit too breathless for his own liking. he steps closer and opens his arms, welcoming you warmly and holding you a little too tight. 'you're okay? do you want anything? water, maybe? or are you hungry? we have-'

'we don't have anything, pizza will arrive only in an hour!' dino shouts.

you giggle, effectively taking wonwoo's focus from killing dino to your cutest self. 'that's fine, i'm not hungry. is there anything i can help with?'

wonwoo sometimes fears for his heart. you're too sweet, too cute, too good - how is he supposed to hold all his feelings for you inside when you're like that? 'not really, but hoshi bought new stuff, let me show you.'

you follow him eagerly and doesn't even blink when he steps very close to you. wonwoo hopes that this is a sign of you being comfortable with him, you wanting him in your space. he asks how your day's been and while he's listening attentively, he mostly watches your reactions, needing to see if you notice mistletoes or not. there are four of them in the living room with one of them being literally taped to the tv (god, who thought it was a good idea?!) and your eyes sweep past them with no care. 'everything is so cool!' you comment on new action figures hoshi bought. 'very hoshi style.'

wonwoo nods. he's getting nervous, knowing that soon people will start coming up and they will take you from him because everyone wants a piece of you and he will lose you to the ocean of people and-

'do you want to go to the balcony?' he asks suddenly.

you blink. 'um- sure? yeah, okay, let's go.'

you pass the bathroom with a very obviously hang up mistletoe and you don't even bat an eyelash, which crushes wonwoo's hopes. you don't notice them. he should confess on his own. cradling note in the back pocket of his jeans, he opens the door for you and takes a subtle big breath before following you. he can do it. he's an adult, for god's sake. if he manages to pull all-nighters for weeks during midterms and come out alive then surely one confession will not kill him, right?

'woo?' you call, frowning. 'is everything okay? you look kinda-' you pause as your gaze shifts to somewhere above wonwoo's head. 'is- my god, is that a mistletoe?'

wonwoo holds his breath. 'yeah,' he croaks out, frozen.

you step closer and come up on your tiptoes, wanting to touch it. 'did hoshi forget to take it off? it's way past christmas.'

you make a move to presumably take it off, but wonwoo catches your wrist and slowly wraps his another hand around your waist. his heart is beating so loud he fears entire city can hear it; you simply blush at the proximity. 'wait,' wonwoo asks, clearing his throat. 'don't take it off yet.'

'okay...' you mutter, lowering your hand.

your beautiful eyes stare into his and it's really not fair; how can he remember the words from his note when you're looking at him like that? 'um.'

'did you want to discuss something?' you ask, somehow not commenting on his hand on your waist. 'you brought me here, so.. i thought you wanted to say something.'

dying would've probably been easier than this, wonwoo swears. he swallows, his fingers flex on your waist. 'we should kiss,' he ends up blurting out because head to mouth filter refuses to work. your eyes widen and you make an attempt to step back, but he doesn't let you, holding you securely in his arms. he lifts his head up: 'mistletoe, you know. it's a- tradition. yes, tradition.'

you look confused at first and wonwoo braces himself for a fall. you're going to slap his face and walk away, you're going to call him different names and-

'only because of the mistletoe?' wonwoo blinks at you, shocked. you clarify: 'we need to kiss only because of the mistletoe?'

he shakes his head. your expression softens and with care, you wrap your hands around his shoulders. 'why else then?' you ask quietly.

your eyes are so pretty. you are so pretty and you are so close, wonwoo is losing his mind. 'because i like you,' he confesses in a quiet whisper meant only for you. 'because i wanted to kiss you for a very, very long time.'

you don't slap his face. you don't walk away. you don't call him different names - instead you move just a tad bit closer but it's enough for the hope inside wonwoo's heart to flare up. 'how long?' you ask, searching for something in his face.

wonwoo hopes you can find adoration there, because that's what he feels. 'for so long that it's embarrassing how i confessed only now.'

your giggle is his favorite sound on earth. you lean closer, brushing your noses together. 'better late than never,' you mutter, trembling a little in his hold. 'right?'

wonwoo nods. tightens his arms around you. 'right,' he whispers before finally closing the distance and kissing you.

a/n: missed writing longer stuff, god! hopefully it's not awkward, i did write only small prompts in last few months and got kinda used to them :/ let me know if you liked it or not! <3 - nini

my other seventeen works are HERE

[hypnzo]

Hi!! Could I request a Percy Jackson x reader where they’re battling some big bad villain and somehow reader is hypnotised into working against Percy?

And they’re battling it out he’s trying to not hurt her and it’s so cute maybe she could be a daughter if Demeter (but have actual powers Demeter kids got nuked hard!)

(She’s actually really badass tho kinda like poison ivy from dc)

Anyway! I love your fics thanks for taking your time to read my request x

Hit me where it hurts

Percy Jackson x Child of Demeter!Reader

Warning !! English is not my first language, there might also be possible mischaracterization.

The moment you and Percy were finally able to locate the very important thing needed in order to complete the mission, you felt the feeling of relief and triumph wash over the two of you in a haze.

However, without meaning to, that triumph soon blinded the two of you as you both failed to notice the lurking monster nearby.

“Sweet,” Percy whistled, his tone sighed with relief, “and it's still in good condition!” he pointed out as you both walked closer.

“Finally,” you groaned, feeling more tired than you usually would be. “Man, this mission took such a toll on me.”

“At least we're finally done with it.” he said, his voice tinged with optimism, but just when you were about to grab the item, you felt your body froze.

Suddenly, you heard a strange growl that seemed to echo around the place. You decided to ready your weapon, however it seems like Percy didn't hear the noise. It felt weird.

“Uh? Petal, are you good?” Percy said, looking a little dumb-founded towards your reaction. If he had to guess, it looked as if you were hesitating on something.

Percy, confused, looked at the item. ...It looked fine which made him more perplexed with your actions.

Curiously, Percy decided to grab the item instead, but just when his hand was inches away from the item, he was stopped by the vines that suddenly wrapped around his wrists.

“What–” Percy's brows furrowed, feeling his sudden irritation and confusion start to bubble even more into the surface.

Without a word, you suddenly lunged your weapon near his chest, making it obvious that you were meaning to kill him.

“Wh– Hey, woah, woah, woah!” Percy stumbled though he managed to block your attack in time. However the vines were getting annoying, especially with the way it was growing as if it was slowly paralyzing his movements.

Without much thinking, Percy tightened his grip on his sword—Riptide—bracing himself as he cut off the vines that extended to his forearms within minutes.

He was free at last, but he suddenly heard a loud hiss of pain. He averted his attention towards his side immediately only for him to realize that he accidentally scarred you.

“Oh– My gods! I'm so sorry, hey, are you oka–” he panicked, feeling his his guilt arising. All of a sudden, he felt as if the ground was trying to swallow him, along with more plants starting to lunge in on him in an attempt to injure him further from fighting.

“What's with these plants?!” he murmured in frustration. He was handling the plants left and right, and if he was being honest, he had no idea that plants could even be that aggressive.

Suddenly, in the brink of the battle, he felt the ground shake. Not knowing what was happening due to the place being quite dark, he blindly decided to keep moving.

“Petal? Petal! Hey, where are you?”

He heard no whispers—not even a soft murmur of your voice.

“Petal–” his voice got sliced through the loud thud which made him pause in surprise.

Looking to his left, he felt himself dumb-founded when he saw the gigantic tree fall over, which he was sure is impossible to even happen.

“What the...” though distracted, he felt someone sneaking up behind him—without hesitation, he knocked them up immediately with his elbow, making the person wince.

“Shit.” you murmured, feeling your nose bleed. What was it with this Percy guy?

“Petal?!”

“Stop calling me that, will you?” your voice lingered with annoyance as you made one step further, almost tripping Percy off of his balance.

“Snap out of it!” Percy exclaimed, his hold on his weapon tightened even further, however... It was a little too tight as if he was hesitating to lift it up against you.

“What? You can't raise your weapon against me, coward?”

Not bothering to hear out his words, you clinked your sword against his, making him fall slightly on his feet.

Taking every mistake to your advantage, you commanded the plants all around the two of you to distract him whilst the others made their way to tangle up Percy's legs from battling you any further.

He stumbled against his own foot, barely managing to draw his sword against yours before you could even forcefully drive it into his chest.

“Calm down..!” He struggled, trying to fight out the force of your weapon without accidentally hurting you in any way.

His whole figure was pinned to ground—the clinking of celestial bronze was heard nearby among the dead plants scattered on the ground.

Percy managed to elbow you with enough force to distract you for a few seconds where he had to make his moves.

“Sorry!” he apologized, though the vines were slowly growing up his legs, temporarily paralyzing his movements from below.

With all the effort he could muster up, his hold met his sword once more, its sharp blade cutting off the vines off of his legs, freeing him away from the paralyze.

Averting his focus back onto you, his sword managed to catch yours before you could even stab a wound near his arm.

His usual fluid flick on the Riptide faltered completely as his fighting became quite stiff almost as if he was purposely trying to hit the corners of your side in order to avoid injuring you.

If he was being honest, if this wasn't a life or death situation with you currently, he'd be laughing in embarrassment with how much he was "failing" to land a hit on you.

As the fight went on, Percy tried to distract you for as much as he could without letting himself die and without accidentally scarring you.

However, the moment you managed to get your sword to clash against his near his throat, you wasted no time to press his weapon against him.

Percy blinked—mentally rubbing his eyes when he looked back once more on your eyes...

Your eyes changed color.

Percy, having no other choices left, he needed to screw you off balance to let himself breathe, however he still needed to maintain you injure and scar free.

You heard him murmur an apology and you felt him step on your foot—its crushing sensation made you wince and you lost your balance for a few seconds.

His vision scanned through every possible solution he could think of to break off whatever hypnosis you've fallen under, that was until he decided to make a bold choice.

Your eyes lurked for his shadow to make an appearance—when suddenly you felt the tip of a blade tap you on the shoulders lightly.

“Over here, Petal.”

Your eyes immediately followed where the voice came from. Cautiously, you made your move, letting the plants help you tug on his ankles to stumble out his movements.

“Hey!” he waved from behind the item to be retrieved. “Over here!” He moved with precision, circling around the item as if he was trying to get you off of your balance once more.

Out of the blue, the familiar, strange, and monstrous voice roared from your body as if it was trying to control your senses next.

It was difficult trying to battle out the monster that had decided to occupy your body to use it against the two of you, especially since you've already ended up with a few wounds across your body from your fight with Percy.

Your own thoughts suddenly got louder the more the item cracked—with one last miscalculated attack, you accidentally hit the artifact, breaking it into dust.

“Petal!” you heard Percy's voice ring through your ears before you almost lost consciousness.

Blinking weakly, you saw him rush beside you as he guided you to sit on the ground before you could even fall on your knees.

“Percy,” you murmured weakly, feeling the hypnosis suck out a large amount of energy out of you, “Sorry.”

You felt his thumb brush across your cheek, smiling softly at your exhausted state—though you expected him to be angrier with you.

“You're not mad?”

“Nonsense.” he presses a kiss on your temple before lightly pinching your cheek. “How could I ever be?”

“Are you feeling alright now?” Percy asks while he assisted you on your feet after you accidentally fell to the ground, which almost knocked your face earlier.

“Yeah.. Thanks.”

“You could give me a kiss,” he says, looking away as if he was feigning sarcasm, “just a suggestion, of course.”

“You're sure a dork, honestly.”

“...So, yes?”

You rolled your eyes though you leaned in against his lips, feeling his lips brush against yours slowly as you felt him smile through the kiss.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

Note: (Thank you so much! Honestly, I really love your request! The moment I read it I immediately thought it was so cool! Thanks for taking the time to make a request!!)

Have a request? Feel free to send one in!

[f4ggydog]

Shauna and lottie taking advantage of reader 🤭

LOTTIESHAUNA X READER NONCON:

you’re hesitant, secured with makeshift rope by your arms. your lip won’t stop quivering and you’re trembling more than a leaf in the wind.

“s-shauna,” you whimper, but she trails a finger up and down your spine.

“shhhh.”

shauna’s unwrapping you, like a present ready to be delivered. your revealing top slips off first, two holes roughly carved out on the areas where your nipples would be seen.

your pants rolls down your legs next. with your hands restrained and your body weak, you feel unable to fight back against shauna’s undressing. you’re not sure what she wants. you’re not sure if she wants to sacrifice you to the wilderness as some sort of food for the wilderness. the team’s got their meat supply. what could she possibly want?

either way, you assume the worst as you’re lead to the main area of the cabin. lottie has escorted everyone else outside, making sure that nobody is here to witness what you’re about to face. the first thought that comes to your mind is death. you’re dead. you’re done for. you should give a last kiss goodbye before you perish.

but shauna doesn’t have brutality when she pushes you to meet lottie. instead, she just tightly holds your back and whispers for you to calm down. shauna is hasty though, like she’ll get a beating if she doesn’t escort you to lottie at the speed of light.

shauna stops when her eyes meet lottie’s. her hand is gripping your hip and her other is cupping her chin, cooing at your little sniffles and tears of fear.

“bring them to me,” lottie orders softly. “you didn’t undress them fully.”

“i’m sorry my queen.” shauna lowers her head. “I forgot about their underwear. i promise it was an accident.”

“i’m not reprimanding you my little butcher.” lottie smirks. “i wouldn’t mind finishing the undressing myself.”

“what is happening?” you mumble under your breath, wishing you could decipher either of their intentions.

“don’t worry about it,” shauna reassures. “just go along with it. don’t be afraid.”

“g-go along with what?”

“shhh, don’t ask too much. don’t think about it too hard. just…do what lottie says. she’s gonna take care of you.”

lottie finishes the job, your underwear falling down as she removes it with ease. the fabric falls to your feet, your pussy exposed to the chilly air and lottie’s perverted gaze. you shiver, quickly scanning the room for a way out. but neither girl seems intent on giving you an escape relatively soon, not until you served your purpose at least.

“please…whatever I’ve done, im sorry.” you hope your apologies will bring back your autonomy and free will. right now, it feels clear that you’ve been deprived of both.

“this is a gift,” lottie murmurs, kissing down your unsteady legs. “god, so gorgeous. I’m glad you chose them, shauna.”

“only the best for you, my queen.” shauna bows and her hand roughly squeezes your ass cheek. “should they face the floor yet?”

“give me a moment to get a look at them,” lottie coos. “it’s not often that I’m greeted with such a ravishing little thing.”

thing? were you just an object to be played with? was your humanity now gone too? this was a sick joke, some sort of disgusting prank surely.

“they’ll be perfect for my cock.” lottie lines up kisses across your thigh.

“you’re not worried about them being too tight?” shauna smirks.

“I’m gonna make it fit,” lottie asserts. “i always do.”

shauna forces you to the ground on your back by lottie’s commands. she eyes your bare body hungrily, genuinely wanting a piece of the action. but she’s loyal to lottie and she wont start ravaging unless she’s given permission to. instead, she leers at you, eyes fixated on your sensitive nipples.

lottie drops to her knees, fishing her heavy cock out of her pants and slapping the head against your cunt. you’re on the verge of tears. but when you speak up, your voice is already cracked, like you’ve already been broken long before lottie had the chance to.

“need you so bad,” lottie mumbles. “fuck, you’re gonna feel perfect. i just know it. you were practically designed for me.”

“they sure were,” shauna agrees, sitting in anticipation as lottie’s tip teases your entrance.

“i want you to watch as i do this,” lottie says to her subordinate, shauna. “i want you to learn about taking what belongs to you. i want you to learn what it means to do something for the greater good of your peers. some things may be questionable at first glance, but sometimes we have to questionable things to save others.”

“i understand my queen,” shauna replies, eyes locked on your form. “I totally get it.”

“good.” lottie slams into you and you nearly lose your breath.

the thickness of lottie’s cock doesn’t help the sensation whatsoever. your belly feels like it’s burning and your pussy tightens whenever one of lottie’s cock veins rubs against your walls. your toes curl in agony, your hands struggling against the ropes securing them.

“shhh, such a good puppy,” lottie coos as her hips move. “taking me so good. am I too big for you, baby?”

“i think so,” shauna chuckles. “it’s cute to watch them struggle, though. nothing more appealing than being forced into submission.”

“it’s so silly too,” lottie says, shaking her head. “I’m giving them exactly what they need and they’re rejecting it only because it sounds scary at first. it’s a little sad, but nothing some training can’t fix.”

”n-no more,” you beg defeatedly. “n-no more, please. i can’t stand it.”

“does it hurt, baby?” lottie coos, her fingers now massaging your clit to alleviate some of the pain. “shh, you’re so tight around me. it’s so hard not to cum in you right away.”

anything but that. literally anything but that. you squirm like a worm in the dirt against your restraints, but your struggles are fruitless. you belong to shauna and lottie now. you’re just a present after all, a new pet for them to experiment on. they’d take care of you though. you just didn’t realize it yet.

“they feel so good,” lottie groans, eyes screwing shut and nails digging into your inner thighs. “fucking hell. I’m twitching.”

“you’re taking that big cock so good,” shauna praises. “look at how your pussy swallows it. you like the way it stretches your hole out?”

“oh it stretches all right,” lottie grunts. “fuck, you’re gonna make a perfect pet for me, baby. gonna be mine to use whenever i want? whenever i need some stress relief or entertainment?”

you don’t respond. you only sob quietly, accepting your future.

(sorry this one took so long i admit it was a work in progress for a bit!)

[eridanidreams]

WIP Wednesday

So writer's block and health had me in a headlock for a few months, but as usual, can't keep me down forever...

tagging: @bearlytolerant, @silurisanguine, @aro-pancake, @fangbangerghoul, @atonalginger, @aislingdmdt, @fshenkoescape, @ninjaofnaps, @lisa-and-shadow, @a-cosmic-elf, @thatsgoodsquishy0, @hockeydemon42, @fomagranfalloon, @violenceandviolets, @therealgchu, @staticpallour, @artemis-crimson, @genesisarclite and @constellation2330

(As usual, the tags are read if you like, post if you like, no pressure!)

from the upcoming chapter of stars through my fingers like grains of sand

"Company?" he asked quietly; she nodded. Moving quickly, he set one of the armchairs at an angle to the door, then pulled his .45 and double-checked the safety. At her look of confusion, he mouthed Trust me and gestured her over.

By the time they heard heavy footsteps outside the door, they'd arranged themselves: she was curled on his lap, one arm curved around his waist. It was the very picture of an intimate moment—except for the pistols hidden at their sides, ready for action. There was no knock; only the smash of wood as the lock tore free. As one, their arms snapped up, weapons pointed at the unarmored head of Mei's security "chief". "Well, now," Sam said, his voice full of false geniality, "were we expectin' a guest?"

"Guests knock," Cait said coldly, and clicked the hammer back. Like him, Cait preferred a .45, though hers was the more modern XM-2311, complete with suppressor. "People who smash in the door get shot."

Stocker growled. "You wouldn't—" The suppressor twitched to the side, and Cait put a bullet in the doorframe a bare inch from Stocker's face. They snapped their head back. "You crazy bitch!"

"She don't appreciate bein' interrupted," Sam said, the cheer gone from his voice. "Neither do I. So give me one good reason why the next one doesn't end up between your eyes."

Stocker's jaw set mutinously, but they'd been caught dead to rights; like most bullies, they were essentially a coward. "Mei wants you downstairs," they growled.

"Then I suggest you turn yourself around and let Ms. Devine know we'll be down in good time," he replied, the bonhomie back in his voice as if it had never gone. Without taking his eyes off Stocker, he leaned over to capture Cait's lips in a kiss.

"You just made a big mistake," Stocker snarled. "Don't think I'm going to forget this."

Though she returned the kiss with interest, Cait's pistol never wavered. Sam was starting to get a little distracted when she finally broke it off. "You should rethink that," she told Stocker, cool as Akilan winter. "My Sam's a fair man. Everybody gets one mistake. This is your one."

The merc snarled incoherently, then turned and stomped away. Sam waited until he heard the ding of the elevator to holster his sidearm; once Cait followed suit, he cupped her cheek in his hand. "Your Sam, huh?" he murmured—saw the beginnings of a blush and gave her a quick, appreciative kiss to forestall it. "I do love it when you get all possessive."

She made a grumbly little sound somewhere between embarrassment and annoyance—well, that primal part of her was still a sensitive topic, and all he could do was reassure her when it came up. "How long do we leave Devine hanging?" she asked.

"Long enough to make it clear we're not playing her game," he said firmly. "I don't see Stocker coming up here without Devine's say-so—"

"They didn't," Cait confirmed. "But I couldn't tell whether they broke in on orders or for the fun of it. I think they'd enjoy it either way." She shook her head. "'I won't forget this?' Where'd they get their dialogue, Republic Serial Villain Academy?" She snickered a little. "Will we rue the day?"

Sam couldn't hold back a bark of laughter. "Someone's going to, that's for damn sure."

[baddieland09]

It’ll be okay

Warnings:fluff and angst

Summary:You and Spencer meet at a coffee shop but after losing his last relationship losing mave room a toll he isn’t sure if he’s ready to move off but he keeps finding himself at that bookstore waiting to see you again

Guys someone requested this in my comments so this is there request thingy

Word count:1,282

—

I walk down the street looking for the bookstore I had been recommended from someone who knew how much I liked to read

When I had finally found it I was happy my legs burned a bit and in all honesty I was out of breathe

I open the door hearing a little ding sound letting the shop owner that someone had arrived

Walking down the aisle looking for the genre I liked I see a tall man with brown hair and..dressed like a grandpa?

I don’t know he was cute so I push aside the nervousness I felt and walk up to him I was gonna try to start a conversation

“Um Hi WHATS your name”

I smile at him when he looks at me

“Oh um Spencer…Reid”

I nod taking in the way he looks

“Do you know where the history books are I can’t fined them”

He nods as I see him glance off into the area behind me thinking

“The third row” he says a little awkwardly

I nod and smile at him

“Thank you”

I smile at him this time a little wider

He nods back and goes back to what he’s doing as I walk off hearing him leave the store quickly

I get my book and pay for it holding the small paper bag as I walk out looking for more stuff to do

For the next couple days I read my book thinking about our conversation

Didn’t matter where I was or what I was doing I had that book in my hands

I laid in my bed before finally finish the book and laying down deciding I was gonna go back to the book store Tommorow

When I did I was once again walking down the street I didn’t mind thr walk tho It was nice to see everything around me

I walk in seeing the same bookseller she smiles seeing me so I smiled and waved back

I was walking down the isle slightly hoping I’d see Spencer again he was so cute

I make it to the history section seeing a head of brown hair and tall figure and I imedantly smile

I see him just standing there looking like he was waiting for something or someone

I see him looking around before he had seen me and looks at the ground

I walk closer smiling at him

“Oh hey Spencer how have you been”

I was trying be nice to get him to talk to me more or my main goal was trynna get his number

I loved basically everything about him his hair,the way he dressed anything you could named I loved-

“Hi”

I smile at him he was so cute and nerdy

“Y/n my name is y/n”

He nods

“Did you like the book you got”

He suddenly asks me

“Yeah-yeah I did it was good”

He nods

“What book did you get”

He suddenly ask me which made me smile

“The radium girls”

He nods before I see him perk up a bit

“Did you know The women's illnesses included: Toothaches and loss of teeth Jaw necrosis Severe anemia Brittle bones The women's deaths were covered up by their employer, who blamed them on syphilis. The women's legal action led to changes in labor safety standards”

He says smiling a bit

“I didn’t know the last part”

He nods before continuing

“ The women's cases helped establish occupational disease labor law”

I smile at him listening before I finally get the nerves to speak up

“hey can I get your number”

I see him tense up and bit clearly I said something wrong or atleast Im my eyes

“Im sorry that was weird”

“No it’s okay but yes you c-can”

He writes his number in the book I was getting

“Bye y/n”

He waved awkwardly before leaving rhat was weird he didn’t even buy anything

I go to pay for the book the bookseller putting it in the same paper bag as before

“You know HES came in for the last couple days waiting a couple hours I think he was waiting for you”

I was shook at that “Waiting for me”

she nods smiling

“yes for you dear” I leave and later that night me and Spencer were texting a bit but he was being a little slow with reply’s

A couple days later he calls me asking if I wanna come over to his for a date of course I said yes who wouldn’t

He tells me he will be at my house by 7 aclock I quickly got into the shower and did everything else in my routine before sitting on my couch waiting for him

a hour later I hear him knock on the door quickly taking a deep breath and opening my door seeing him standing there with flowers

“I saw you staring at a book about these”

He hands my a bouquet of my favorite flowers

I smile taking them out his hand

“thank you”

We get to his car getting in before he starts driving towards his house

Once we get there he nervously opens the door letting me inside I see a table setup with candles and food on the stove the stove off before he turns it on

I notice a couple picture frames of a girl She had brown hair and palish pink skin I decide to ask him about it

“hey Spencer” he hums stiring something

“who’s the girl in the photos” he pauses before speaking a little more quietly

“she was my girlfriend for 10 months she was shot infront of me”

i just stand there in shock

“shot?” He nods before continuing

“im a profiler for the FBI” I just nod this was a lot of information to take in

“Im so sorry that happened”

“THATS why I was so cautious of you at first I thought you were pretty yes but I didn’t want you to get hurt cause you’d be in danger being with me is that something your willing to risk”

I nod and he just stands there

“are you sure” His voice almost broke

“Im sure”

I watch as he takes the food bringing it up to the table putting some on our plates both of us sitting down it was some type of spaghetti but it looked and smelled good

“It smells good”

He smiled at me

“Thank you”

We both begin to eat it was really good so I was eating a little fast

“Thank you for inviting me over”

I smile at him

“You’re welcome”

After we got finished he tells me I can go relax in the living room while he washes the dishes

I sat on his couch looking around He comes back and I smile at him as he sits down

“there’s a lot to talk about” He ended up telling me everything about him his job,teamtes,mauve and everything else

I just listened

“Spencer I don’t care about what you’ve done I care about you like a lot”

“we’ve only know each other for a little bit”

I nod he was right but I still had my point

“yeah but I Still care you know” He nods

“yeah”

I smile a bit

“does your little profiling thing tell you Im lying”

He looks me over for a second

“No” I nod

“we’ll your right” He smiles a bit

“Im hardy ever wrong” I laugh shoving him slightly

“I really like you Spencer” He nods

“We’ll I really like you too Y/n”

I lean in a bit and I see him hesitate before he does too our lips finally connecting he wraps his hands around the back of my head

“Itll be okay we’ll get thru this” I say into the kiss

He nods

“I know I like you too much to not try too”

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Just a Video – Part 2

Part 3

The next morning, you woke up to the feeling of Marshall’s hands already on you, warm and firm, tracing lazy circles along your hip.

“Mmm,” you murmured sleepily, stretching slightly.

“Morning,” he rasped, voice thick with sleep. His grip tightened, pulling you closer against him.

You smiled, pressing your face into his chest. “We have to get up. You have to finish filming today.”

He groaned. “Yeah. About that—I was thinking of calling in sick.”

You snorted, lifting your head to look at him. “Oh, so now you don’t wanna do the video?”

He smirked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Nah, I just have better ways to spend my time.” His fingers drifted lower, squeezing your thigh for emphasis.

You rolled your eyes, but your heart melted a little. As much as last night had gotten under your skin, he’d more than made up for it, reminding you exactly where his attention really was.

Still, the thought of another day watching him with that model made your stomach knot.

---

When you arrived on set, Marshall’s entire demeanor had changed. He still joked around with the crew, still followed the director’s instructions, but something was different.

And you weren’t the only one who noticed.

The model—Brianna, or Bianca, or whatever her name was—looked a little thrown off as they prepped for another take. Marshall stood beside her, but there was a distance now, one that hadn’t been there the day before.

When the director called for action, he did what was necessary—placed his hands on her hips, guided her through the scene—but gone was the casual ease, the subtle touches that had made you feel uneasy yesterday.

His hands were there, but they weren’t there.

You leaned back in your chair, watching closely.

“Cut!” the director called, rubbing his temples. “Marshall, I need more chemistry, man. You were fine yesterday, what’s up?”

Marshall sighed, rubbing his face. “Look, I’m doin’ what you asked. You want me to toss her over my shoulder too?”

The model giggled, flipping her hair. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Your fingers clenched into a fist.

Marshall, to his credit, didn’t even look at her. Instead, he turned toward you, eyes locking on yours across the room.

“I’ll try again,” he muttered to the director.

They ran the scene again, but this time, Marshall was all business. No lingering touches, no small circles traced into her skin, no low murmurs in her ear. Just quick, detached movements.

By the time they wrapped, the director had given up on trying to get him to recreate whatever it was from yesterday.

As soon as they called it a day, Marshall made a beeline straight for you.

“You ready to go?” he asked, already grabbing his jacket.

You arched a brow. “No goodbyes for your costar?”

He scoffed. “Hell no.”

You smirked, feeling a little victorious. “You seemed different today.”

Marshall glanced at you, expression unreadable for a moment before he finally sighed. “Look, I get that it’s just work, but I don’t like makin’ you feel like that. So I fixed it.”

Your heart squeezed. “You didn’t have to change how you did the scene for me, Marshall.”

He shrugged. “Nah, but I wanted to.”

Your face softened as you reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “Thank you.”

He grinned, pulling you into his side. “Now, can we get outta here? I got better things to do with my hands.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as he led you toward the exit, his arm securely wrapped around your waist.

And just like that, you knew:

No matter what, you were always the one he was coming home to.

[randomfoggytiger]

You answered my question perfectly!! Would you be able to do the same with season 8? Why did it take so long for M and S to get back together?

Yesssssssssssssssssssss! >:DDDD Bit long, hold tight.

Mulder finds his sister in Closure, Scully finds her peace in all things. Both enjoy this new territory briefly: Mulder almost dies in Brand X; Scully discovers an invisible man in Je Souhaite; and they sit on his couch and embrace the simplicity of life... until Requiem. Scully is feeling off-- the symptoms might add up to but don't match with her cancer; and she and Mulder fear (at different times) that her abduction experience is behind what's happening. Mulder watches her hold "that baby" and takes maturer stock of all she's lost... but hasn't yet learned to look inside and assess his own losses. Therefore, he comes to the wrong conclusion: "There so much more you need to do with your life. There's so much more than this"-- "your life" and "you need to" play an absolutely pivotal role in Season 8. He doesn't truly want her to leave... but maybe he's wrong, maybe she's suffered enough. Scully, doubting but afraid, agrees to stay behind but insists, "I won't let you go alone". Her choice turns Skinner into a witness and unshakable ally.

Mulder is abducted. Not only does he see the truth with his own eyes, he finds it grotesque and horrifying-- his abduction and torture strip him of his wonder and bury him six feet under. He wakes in a hospital without remembering this experience, delightedly teasing his partner (happy to see her.) She's pregnant, somehow; she's eight months pregnant, that must mean he's the father; he's been gone six months, abducted three. (Either Scully tells him these facts first or he remembers his abduction first.) Suddenly, the ground flips again: he chose wrong-- going, leaving Scully behind-- and died; he should by rights be dead-- he feels dead, disconnected from life-- but now he must slot into a world that's moved on without him while Scully looks at him hopefully with a hand on her belly. He's let everyone down (he always has, Mulder reasons); and he can't give them what they need. He doesn't care to go back to work-- Kersh'll shut it down, anyway-- and he only obliquely acknowledges the baby (though he keeps as close to Scully as possible.) She has a chance at a better life-- "Scully, you're going to give birth in a couple months. You can talk as tough as you like but you know and I know and they know that in a little while you're going to have more important things than whether or not the X-Files remains open"-- and he doesn't know where he fits in: is he fated for, is he even good enough for, a normal life? Then Doggett; then jealousy and paranoia spur him into action-- he can't be all wrong if Scully, of all people, let a threat waltz into the basement. Seeing this as an opportunity to prove himself, he goes to war with Kersh, Doggett, TLG, Scully, and the DOD. Doggett saves him; Mulder reassesses, he and Scully have an off-screen conversation, he starts to move forward. He brings a family heirloom-- his unspoken sign of commitment-- before the abruption; he sees Doggett in the wake of Luke's death; he reaches forward to feel his own child. Mulder is all-in on fatherhood... but forgets the price of his recklessness and almost dies on the oil rig. He resigns, torn up but clinging to the hope that Doggett will carry on the work. Trying to avoid the pain of losing the files, Mulder ghosts Doggett and tries to keep Scully away from the basement. Both make their peace with moving on, more than ready to be parents as they hand off the Apollo 11 key chain to the new recruits. Mulder's paranoia rears its head with more alien machinations-- he cannot, will not lose Scully or "her baby" (that distancing is an offshoot of his PTSD and reawakened anxious attachment, if you want to read the writing charitably.) Realizing he's made the same Requiem mistake, Mulder does what he didn't do then-- flies home (i.e. wherever his partner is.) Thankfully, all is not lost; and Mulder and Scully address their fears openly-- finally-- and seal their happy ending with a kiss.

[mintyys-blog]

Steve rogers x reader: self love

WARNINGS: talks of body dysmorphia

The Avengers had their fair share of challenging days, from world-saving missions to the endless string of battles, but there was one thing you could always count on: Steve Rogers. He was always there. A steady, unshakable presence. But even though you had been with him for three years, there was something you hadn’t yet shared with him, something that weighed heavily on your mind.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love him. You did. More than anything. But the truth was, you never felt good enough for him. Not physically. He was Captain America, for crying out loud—a man built like a god, with muscles that seemed to ripple with every move he made. And you? You saw yourself as the opposite.

It wasn’t just about the physical scars you carried. No, it was something deeper. It was the constant battle you fought with yourself in the mirror, the voice in your head that told you you were too much or too little, too wide or too thin, not worthy of someone like Steve. You avoided mirrors whenever you could, and when it came to intimacy, you always found an excuse to pull away.

Steve had always been kind about it, never pushing. He’d tell you you were beautiful in his soft, genuine way, but the words never quite felt true to you. You had never let him see you vulnerable in that way, not fully. He respected that, and you were grateful, but the distance between you, both physically and emotionally, was starting to weigh on you.

One afternoon, after a particularly brutal mission, you and Steve had retreated to the compound to recuperate. You sat on the couch, legs tucked beneath you, trying to zone out from the fatigue. Steve, ever the gentleman, had quietly made you some tea, his comforting presence never failing to put your nerves at ease.

You both sat there in silence for a while, and you felt his eyes on you occasionally. But when you looked up, his expression was unreadable.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked, breaking the silence.

Steve gave you a small smile, but there was a distant look in his eyes. He didn’t answer right away, clearly lost in thought.

“I was just thinking,” he said eventually, “how much I love you. How much I wish I could make you see yourself the way I see you.”

Your stomach dropped at the sincerity in his voice. You smiled weakly, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I know you love me, Steve. I love you too. But there’s something I can’t shake… something I don’t think you understand.”

Steve shifted closer to you, his expression softening. “What is it, sweetheart?”

You opened your mouth, but the words tangled in your throat. How could you explain what you were feeling? How could you explain the suffocating self-doubt that clouded your every move, every touch? How could you explain the constant war with your reflection?

Before you could respond, Steve was pulled away by a phone call, and you were left alone with your thoughts, wondering how much longer you could hide behind the walls you had built.

Later that evening, Steve found himself in the locker room with Bucky, both of them recovering from the mission. The topic of relationships came up casually, and before Steve knew it, the conversation took a turn he hadn’t expected.

“Come on, Rogers,” Bucky teased, his smirk evident. “Three years with her and still no action?”

Steve ran a hand through his hair, glancing around to make sure no one else was in earshot. “It’s not like that, Buck. It’s… complicated.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Complicated how?”

Steve sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I mean, we’ve been together for years now. I love her more than anything. But… well, we’ve never been intimate. Not once. She’s not ready, I guess. She doesn’t seem to be comfortable with it.”

Bucky studied him for a moment before letting out a low whistle. “And you’re okay with that?”

“I never pressure her,” Steve said quickly. “I respect her. She’s been through a lot. I just… wish I could do more to help her.”

Bucky leaned back against the lockers, his expression softening. “She’s not waiting for marriage, right?”

Steve shook his head. “No. It’s not that. I think it’s just… something deeper. She won’t talk about it, though. I don’t know what to do.”

Bucky was quiet for a moment, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Well, you should probably just ask her, man. If you really love her, then talk about it. Don’t let it fester. She might be struggling with something, and the best thing you can do is listen.”

Steve nodded, a sense of unease settling over him. It hadn’t occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, there was something more to this than he realized.

That night, as you lay next to Steve, you felt the familiar tension knotting in your stomach. You were doing everything you could to avoid the intimacy that he so clearly desired. But his touch, his gentle presence, made you want to be close to him more than anything. Still, you couldn’t.

Steve’s voice broke through your thoughts. “Can we talk about something?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, though your heart pounded in your chest. “Of course.”

He turned to face you, his hand gently brushing against yours. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us. About how much I love you, how much I want to make you feel… safe, comfortable. And I know you’ve never been ready for that next step, but I can’t help but wonder why.”

You felt the air grow heavy. You knew this conversation was coming. You just didn’t know how to navigate it.

“I… I don’t feel good enough, Steve.” The words came out in a rush, the floodgates opening as the anxiety took over. “I hate my body. I hate looking at it. I don’t see what you see when you look at me. I don’t see anything beautiful, anything worth loving. And I’m scared… I’m scared you’ll see that too and you’ll leave me.”

Steve froze, his gaze searching yours. You could see the confusion in his eyes, the hurt that you hadn’t let him in before.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered softly, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. And I should’ve known better. I should’ve noticed how you talk about yourself, how you treat your own body. But I didn’t. I didn’t see it. And I’m sorry.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, but you didn’t move to wipe it away.

“You’re perfect, just as you are,” Steve continued, his hand gently cupping your face. “I love every part of you. Every scar, every imperfection… all of it. But I understand now that you need time. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

For the first time in so long, you let yourself believe that he really did love you. Not the version of you that you thought you should be, but the version of you that you were. He didn’t need to change you. He loved you, just as you were.

And maybe, just maybe, you could learn to love yourself too.

[myjustice]

For the holiday season. If Furina had to choose between dressing as Santa, a reindeer, or an elf, which would she choose?

she would love to be in one of those cute santa outfit ones. she would definitely be dressed as santa & find cheer in giving out gifts &/or being told by children what they would like for the holidays.

then she would go to neuvillette & he too will be dressing up as santa because she said so & she would give him a list of all the wishes she got from the children who came to her & would convince him to buy them said gifts so that the two of them can go about fontaine door to door & give them their gifts.

not only in an attempt to get him out but to also help him feel like he can connect with them & not feel like they’re so out of his reach because they too would no doubt want to connect with their ruler.

[maskedbyghost]

arranged marriage with simon. yes i am talking about this again.

simon doesn’t talk much about the marriage at first, but his actions say it all. he insists on carrying your bags, walking on the outside of the sidewalk, and making sure you eat enough during missions. you don't ask him why, but it's clear he's claiming the role of protector, even if this was supposed to be temporary.

he won’t admit it, but simon begins to get used to the little domestic routines. you cooking dinner, him taking care of repairs around the house. it feels too natural, and although he never says anything, he’s already mentally putting the two of you into that “forever” category.

the first time you mention needing space or wanting to stay in a separate room, simon just gives you a look. "what do you mean, separate? we’re married." he’s not joking either. to him, this isn’t a temporary arrangement anymore. if you try to argue, he’ll just pull you close and mutter in your ear, "ring’s on your finger. means you’re mine." and that’s the end of the conversation.

he starts doing small things for you that a husband would—restocking your favorite snacks, making sure your gun is cleaned before missions, and slipping extra blankets on your side of the bed when it’s cold.

after some time, he’s not shy about touching you anymore—brushing a hand against your arm, holding you a little too close when you’re out in public. the more time passes, the more his touches become possessive, like he’s reminding you who you belong to now.

simon is up early, always. you’ll wake up to the smell of coffee, and he’ll have a cup ready for you without asking. if you take your time getting out of bed, he’ll mutter, "c’mon, mrs. riley. don’t make me drag you out." but there’s always a smile on his face.

when you share a bed, simon always pulls you into him at night. no matter how much space you take up at first, by morning, you’re wrapped up in his arms. if you stir in your sleep or seem restless, he’ll murmur, "got you, lovie," without fully waking up, his grip tightening as if to remind you he’s there, keeping you safe.

simon doesn’t open up easily, but after a particularly intense moment, he’ll lean in close, his forehead resting against yours, and he’ll whisper, "don’t care if it was for a mission or not. you’re the only one for me now." it’s not a grand declaration, but the sincerity in his voice makes your heart race.

simon will leave subtle marks of possession on you—his dog tags hanging around your neck, his scent clinging to your clothes, and his bite marks on your skin after an especially heated night. "need everyone to know who you belong to," he’ll growl against your skin, his lips trailing kisses down your neck.

he also has an odd obsession with your wedding ring. he’ll turn it on your finger, kissing it softly whenever you’re close. if you ever take it off for some reason, his brow furrows, and he’ll slip it back on. "keep it on, yeah?" his voice is low, almost pleading. "means something to me."

after a particularly dangerous mission where you were almost hurt, simon corners you in the hallway, eyes filled with emotion. "you’re not leaving me," he growls, pinning you against the wall. "ever. understand?" it’s a statement, a vow, and in that moment, you know you’re his forever, and he’s yours.

when you’re lying in bed together, his arms wrapped around you, simon will sometimes whisper, "mine," into your hair. it’s soft, almost inaudible, but you feel it in your bones. he needs the reminder just as much as you do—that you’re his, and he’s never letting you go.

[pearlywritings]

Intimacy records

synopsis: what kinds of horny stuff they have in their phones and which is the favorite?

pairing and characters: Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Dr Ratio, Gallagher, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Loucha, Sampo, Sunday (separately) x fem!reader

tw: SMUT, established relationship (marriage/dating), consensual recording of lovemaking, nudes, oral, lingerie, fingering, masturbation, public sex, breast play, shibari/blindfold, sex machine, creampie

word count: 4.3k+ words

Aventurine

Undoubtedly this man has a whole separate folder for intimate stuff. Of course, he demands you send him something on a daily basis - doesn’t matter if it’s a quick snap of your choice of lingerie in the morning, or recordings of touching yourself - but never enough to cum, it’s his job. Naturally he loves having reminders of you being at his mercy - thus there are also videos of you both (with primarily established consent). All that to say - he has quite the collection, so it’s really hard to pick a favorite, the most desire-arising one.

Maybe it’s a category actually - self-made media created out of bet. Who’ll cum first? Can you keep going without tearing up from pleasure for longer than 10 minutes? Is he patient enough not to touch your sexy self, while you masturbate in front of him? Who is going to be louder this time? These kinds.

”I hope you are ready to lose,” your lover smirks, making himself comfortable between your legs. Camera floats a little, as you chuckle behind it. With a momentary adjustment, the focus is on his face again and he winks, before turning to trail a little path of kisses across your thigh. The image jumps, when he sucks on the skin, and slightly trembles as you let out a sigh. Then it’s firm, as Aventurine wraps his arms around your thighs, his nose teasingly rubbing against your clit. Suddenly there is a lick, then your breath hitches…. And then he buries his mouth into your pussy. It doesn’t take much time for the image to begin shaking wildly, almost matching your debauched noises. There is squelching, there are award-winning male moans, muffled by your heat, soon there is a hand, your hand, reaching down and grabbing his hair. Phone strangely angles, hardly supported by just one hand, until it falls camera down onto the sheets. After that, there are just delicious screams of yours, chanting the name of your lover and begging him to stop, while he doesn’t listen, taking his reward for yet another win.

Yeah, he proved you can’t keep the camera focused while he is eating you out in that one. It’s truly a pity, that more than a half of what was going on, didn’t get recorded in image. Maybe next time you'll do better - oh... That's actually not a bad idea at all… Looks like you are in for another bet.

Blade

His situation is… quite peculiar. First of all, he has so little care for his own phone outside using it to get info for the mission, to the point ANYONE from the Stellaron Hunters can just take it and do whatever with it (Silver Wolf and Kafka practice it a lot). Even your relationship doesn’t change it much, he messages you rarely and quite shortly, preferring to save the conversation for personal interaction. 

However recently, Kafka has been putting a plan into action - the first step of which was banning everyone from getting into his phone (herself excluded). Then she’d start sending her colleague an occasional picture of a set of lingerie she’s oh so sure would look wonderful on you. Blade never answers, but he doesn’t tell her off either, and by the snooping she knows that the pictures get bookmarked, the links for the shops she attaches are visited, and sums of money are being spent.

Oh, and by checking the chat… She knows you get them delivered. Does she text you to shower you with compliments? She does. At first it was a little embarrassing and you asked Blade if he could, maybe, pay better attention to his phone??? But soon, when your lover started showing the telltale signs of jealousy... It became pretty hot (plus praise from THE Kafka? Ego-boosting).

Blade doesn’t voice it, but more than seeing you all pretty for him, he loves seeing you ruined for him, and doesn’t complain when you ask him to take a picture with your phone of whatever part of you, focusing on the marks, or the torn crotch of your panties, or something alike… There are times when he would text you with a simple ‘send me pictures with torn stockings’ or ‘yesterday. open nipples bra. now’ , because he knows you have them, and you deliver, because you know he loves them. 

Has his favorites:

Depicts your thighs, bitten and opened wide, while the black panties are pushed aside to let two thick, scar-covered fingers dive into your pussy.

Your body after one of the sessions - bra roughly pushed down under the mark-covered breasts, panties missing, one stocking still on the leg, but with multiple holes in it, and the other tying your wrists above your head.

A small video you insisted on recording of the man tugging onto your garter belt whenever he wanted your hips to push towards his thrust, threatening for the thin elastic material to snap.

Even though he doesn’t save them, he knows how to get an easy access to them, so for Blade it works quite fine (and Kafka’s plan does too, making Blade look less intimacy-repulsed and spicing up your relationship).

Boothill

A cyborg, whose only human part of the body is the head, and sex life… How can this be possible? 

Oh, trust me, it can. Sure, his bodily reaction differs, but he still is excited to get nudes from you, finally able to express through the text what he really thinks with that foul mouth of his. A voice recording of you dirty talking to him? Awesome. A video? You can bet his engine is overheating and vents are whirring.

But in all honesty, the ones he truly loves and returns to are the recordings of him doing stuff to you. Call him self-conscious, it’s not like he can bite back with a swear, but the reminder that he can bring you pleasure even now is sometimes necessary.

The lights are intimately dimmed, not enough to bring the room into utter darkness. Two bodies are lying almost intertwined with your back turned to the camera. The metal arm of your lover has sneaked under your side and around your waist, fingers digging into the plush glob of your ass, tugging on it, to further the spread which is created by your leg thrown over his hip. Your pussy is perfectly presented to the camera, puffy and slick, with two gray plated fingers massaging it. Digits slide up and down your labia, occasionally staying on the clit, to rub tight circles on it and elicit some sweet moans out of you, only to return to their previous ministrations, dipping the tips juuust a little bit into the quivering hole. Your back arches and body deliciously shivers from the contrast of his cool and your heat, and you softly whine, when he releases your ass cheek to give it a spank and then grab it again, unwilling to let the sight of your cunt escape his phone’s camera. You whimper something, muffled by his chest, but he remembers by heart what you were begging for. ‘Please, put your mouth on me.’ He will, in a minute, but right now he pushes both fingers to the second knuckle in, making you jolt in his hold, but not letting you go anywhere.

It’s captivating, how his inhuman digits disappear and reappear with every thrust he makes; slick-covered they look shiny, as if you polished them, and the cyborg shudders, imagining your tongue running around them. That’s one dangerous video, he may just give in to his want to see you and abandon the mission he was assigned to…

Dr Veritas Ratio

Unsurprisingly, Veritas’ phone doesn’t contain that much stuff in general. Maybe some downloaded articles, notes to put down later, if he doesn’t have a piece of paper at the moment, and very few pictures, mainly of his writings on the chalkboard. Don’t be discouraged though, of course he has pictures of you. Some selfies you took after “borrowing” his phone and ones he doesn’t have a heart to delete (but he will scoff at you, should you decide to tease him), and some very well-thought images he took on his own accord - he needs reference for when he decides to let his mind rest from research and focus on sculpting.

And one might think that such a reserved and cold man will not entertain storing anything explicit on his phone. Well, he indeed does not have any pictures and videos saved - if he wants, he can either find what you sent him via your chat or just demand your assistance. However… There is something that strangely became his way of concentrating when doing his research…

”Oh! Mh- *thrust* Veri- ohmygod! *thrust*”

“Wait- Aaah! I can’t! I’m sore! MmmmMMM!” “No, you can and you will. Now hold still, I can’t eat you out if you keep thrashing around.” “Oh Aeons!”

*Slick sounds of you going down on him, gurgling and choking on his girth, occasionally gasping to catch your breath, only to have his cock buried in your throat again*

“Baaaby… I miss you so much… Can I come to your office? I promise to be good… Just need to cockwarm you - nothing else I swear. Let me keep you company pleeease. Imagine how nicely it'd be to have your cock buried in my pussy, while you are working… Need to help you with stress-relief, it's gonna feel so-so good.”

“Oh fuck, o-oh, love, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I’mcumMIN-” “Ngh, s-so…tight…” “Aaaaaaah~!”

“Veritas Ratio, if you come home in ten minutes, I will give you a nice massage and then ride you damn cock, till the only thing you can think about is not your work, but me. If you fail to do so though… I wonder if my threat to use some toys instead will work. Just know that your wife is very mad. And horny.”

It doesn't matter if the audio was taken while you were intimate or it was something you sent to him and he saved - he thoroughly enjoys everything your voice has to offer to him. And if instead of concentrated it accidentally makes him horny - he'll just play the next one, while undoing his pants.

Gallagher

Oh, this man is a menace. And a huge ass-lover. His gallery is full of pictures of your booty: clothed, just panty-clad or bare. There are shots with your body clearly being bent, ass up and back covered in his load. Videos of him fucking you from behind, with cock sliding in and out of your pussy? Obviously. Recordings of it jiggling as he spanks you? Would’ve been strange if they weren’t there.

However, in that vast collection of his, there is a video that’s most peculiar - one might say scandalous. It was one of those nights when he took over the bar for Siobhan and you came over at some point, all enticing and so sexy in that little dress of yours… He could not resist taking you right there once the establishment was closed. And it got on security camera...

Moans so loud, that they are reaching the recording device, are still of the delicious kind. Your back is arched over the bar counter, arms lifted and wrists tied by none other but Gallagher’s wine-red tie, and held by his own hand for good measure. The front of your dress is pushed down, revealing your pretty breasts, jiggling with every thrust of the man’s hips, and the hem of it has ridden up, baring your stomach and mark-covered thighs. Your lover is barely unclothed, pants and boxers pushed down just enough to free his cock and the tie, obviously, missing. The hand that is not holding your wrists, is grabbing onto your leg, under the knee, lifting it for a better angle, and showing off a lewd detail - your black lace panties hanging on your shin. You are looking positively debauched, and he is no better, groaning and cursing, with an occasional exceptionally rough trust that makes you scream and whine. There are teeth-gritted ‘slut’s and huskily chuckled ‘bad girl’s with your pleading ‘sir’s and ‘Gal’s, all of that deliciously seasoned with the clapping of the wet skin colliding. But nothing beats the moment of you cumming, depicted by no less than three cameras from all of the hottest angles…

Of course this footage was ‘confiscated’ by him with some dumb excuse for Siobhan (he doubts she believed it, given the knowing look and shit-eating grin she gave him), with all traces destroyed except just one copy thoroughly hidden on his phone. He thinks you two should repeat that - this time, however, he’d love to bend you over the counter with your back facing him…

Gepard Landau

Gepard would die if someone took his phone and got into his gallery. Poor man has to change the password weekly to throw Serval off his case (she was only teasing, but that made her brother paranoid). There is a reason for such behavior - while he is way too sweet and gentlemanly to suggest making sexy pics or, Supreme Guardian forgive, videos, he can't help but to be too whipped for you. 

This man dutifully saves every single photo and video of yours - nudes included.

You don't send them very often - you don't want to kill your darling husband. But sometimes the yearning is unbearable, and there is a suffocating need to show Gepard what he is missing while away on duty (you always leave a warning message though, so he could check it while alone and undisturbed).

No matter how red and embarrassed he gets, the man timidly admits that he enjoys this kind of attention. He is not beyond the earthly pleasures - he too has a favorite theme, that recently became more present in what you send him…

At first you looked so absolutely cute and domestic with his huge sweater on, the one you personally knitted for him - the beginning of the video didn’t look all that different from the photos you sent him just minutes before. But soon it becomes clear why you asked if he was alone, because once you position the phone and climb onto the bed, your full attire gets revealed. White stockings are replacing your usual home pants, and as your fingers grab the hem of the sweater and tug it up, the white panties from a matching set start peaking. The view is both pure and alluring, with the way your legs are spreading wide, and the sweater being pushed further up, baring your braless breasts. The hem gets secured between your teeth and both hands teasingly run down your sides, index fingers drawing circles around the tits, before squeezing them; as one remains right there, the other slowly slides down your stomach, disappearing under the hem of those flimsy panties. Imagination paints wild images - every next is hotter than the previous, and only your muffled moans of his name and rapidly rising chest are indicators of how good you feel with fingers pushing in and out of your pussy. And that damn sweater… You are not taking it off.

The Captain of the Silvermane Guards has one guilty pleasure - you, wearing his clothes. Domesticity, longing, finding comfort in something of his touches his heart and heightens his love and desire for you, almost making him consider taking a regular day off.

Jing Yuan

This man literally worships the ground his wife is walking on, so OF COURSE he wants to have as many pictures and videos of you as possible. It gets so boring and lonely when he is at work, after all. But don’t be fooled by his sweet and innocent smile, there are not only cute shots of you both or just you, he has sexy stuff too.

Man is obsessed with your chest. It’s his favorite pillow (thus so many pictures of him snuggling his face right between your breasts), his best stress-relief (photos and short videos of his big veiny hands cupping and squeezing your girls, with an occasional swipe of the thumbs over the erect nipples), his favorite place to leave marks on (no one can see them under the clothes, but just one tug of his finger on your collar and he is met with a delicious sight. Plus the photos he asks to send occasionally).

Loves, loves, loves, purchasing lingerie for you and when you demonstrate your bra-clad tits. He immediately wants them in his face, but there is the phone screen keeping him away.

But oh does he love recordings of playing with them.

Your body is steadily bouncing on your husband’s lap, creating a beautiful melody of skin slapping against skin. There is an occasional peak of his thick cock, covered in your juices, that immediately disappears again, undoubtedly swallowed by your pussy. One strong arm is wrapped around your waist, supporting you, while the other hand is palming at your left breast. The right one has fallen victim to his eager mouth, lips wrapped around the nipple, sucking on it tenderly, tongue toying with the overstimulated nub. His eyes are half-lidded when he looks up at you, moaning around your breast, when you tug on his luscious locks, trying to push him away, to give you a small rest. He is drawing back indeed, planting a soft kiss to the valley between the jiggling globes, and you sigh in relief, deceived by his affectionate action. Only for you back to arch and mouth hang in a loud moan, when Jing Yuan brings your other breast to his awaiting tongue, dropping both hands to your hips to aid you in speeding up your riding, sensing your nearing orgasm.

Maybe next time you should try recording him making you cum by playing with your chest only… Ah, just the thought makes his cock swell.

Loucha

As much as Loucha enjoys your company and more often than not allows you to accompany him in his journeys, there are times when he can’t take you with him. Which means he leaves for weeks, or sometimes a couple of months, going through the days without a single touch from you. Before getting into a relationship with you, he could survive without intimacy just fine, but now, since he knows the taste of affection and being spoiled by you, it’s getting hard.

That’s when recordings on his phone come in handy, especially when there is no opportunity of a video call to indulge. And there is one he most frequently returns to…

Your chest is rising and falling, pretty breasts with perky nipples brought together by a wrap of a rope. Red and purple marks bloom on your skin akin flowers, some fresh, some from days before. Sweat shines on your hot skin, indicating just for how long the blonde has been torturing you with pleasure and denial. There is a small shake of the video, as your lover is establishing his phone, having just started the recording, and softly making you aware of how good you look - you wouldn’t know with that blindfold covering your eyes. Once the angle is perfect - capturing your arms, tied above the head, the arch of your back and thighs pushed together for stimulation, the man is joining you on the bed. It is cock-hardening, how you lift your head to find his lips, when you sense him leaning down, needily allowing him to indulge in a kiss before the game of orgasm denial continues. His hand meanwhile is creeping down your body, starting with caressing your cheek, fingers sliding down your neck, over the swell of your breast, thumb pushing against the nipple, eliciting a moan out of you right into his mouth, and then palm splaying on your stomach, traveling even lower, before it disappears between your thighs.

Loucha is a man of foreplay. There is nothing more satisfying to him, than indulging into your body before sinking his cock into your warmth. He loves making you squirm, completely at his mercy, drawing you right to the edge, and then denying you the sweet release, just to make you yearn, just to stretch the process out.

Sampo Koski

Sampo is nasty and that is not a secret. I am sure, if you were up for it, he’d suggest filming porn just for the giggles (and extra cash, come on, you both are fucking hot). There are teasing nudes and intimate videos, and it’s not a rare occasion of either of you texting the other with some found porn with a caption ‘let’s try it?’ and you do, frequently recording the process to compare later, and claiming that your performance is better.

However, sometimes it tends to not go according to the script (not like you usually have one). Sampo is chaotic and it’s not hard to lose focus with a lover like him, and these exact moments are Koski’s favorite. Despite being a Masked Fool, during these times he himself looks so sincere, it’s as unnerving, as it is exciting. Rewatching such videos and seeing how you mirror the look in his eyes, giggle with him, even crack a joke, all without ruining the mood - makes him believe he’s found his soulmate (and if you did film porn with him, he’d never share this level of intimacy with your viewers, it solely belongs to you two).

You are giggling, shaking your head with a wide smile, all the while lying on your stomach between his toned mark-covered thighs and leisurely fisting his hard, leaking cock with an angrily red tip. 

‘Sampo, please, be a little serious, we are trying to be sexy here.’

‘We are sexy! What’s not hot in shaping my and your pubic hairs into the lips?? They could kiss, when we fuck!’

‘You are unbelievable,’ you snort, trying to save the last bits of your composure, and leaning forward to mouth at his tight balls. This makes your lover pornographically (how ironic) moan, throwing his head back.

‘Mmm, yes, right there~ Oooh… If am soooo unbelievable, it must mean I am dreamy? How about I bring you to a Penacony, to a Dreamscape? I bet in your dream I’d be as good in bed as I am in reality.’

Your resolve snaps and you burst out laughing, letting go of his sack and pressing your face to his thigh, shaking, dropping the hand from around his cock. Sampo whines.

‘Come ooooon, I was so close!’

‘Shu-ah-ha-t-ah-uh-p,’ you manage through your laughter. The man pouts, but the gaze of mint green is summer-warm as he is looking down at your trembling form. Your voice is pretty, your cackles are pretty, and oh damn he is laughing too.

And these are just the first few minutes of the last video, the thing has a duration of half an hour, so, obviously, you didn’t stop there. That’s what Sampo Koski loves - no matter how cringe you become, it’s never a reason to stop the whole process. If anything it’s something to spark an even longer and intimacy-filled one.

Sunday

Keeping personal stuff on his phone is quite dangerous, given Sunday’s position. That’s why he owns two phones - his work one, and one to mainly contact you, his sister, and a small circle of the most trusted people. He is extremely good at handling the owning of two separate devices, never mistaking one for another, that people are often convinced he has only one.

But it’s his personal cellphone that interests us. Oh, does he have a whole collection of photos and videos of you, one folder in particular hidden just for good measure. Sunday is a collected and regal man, yet it doesn’t mean he has a hard time enjoying your teasing. Quite contrary, sometimes he welcomes it, loving the photos you send him from an outing, shopping for clothes, or better yet, lingerie, sending him multiple shots of different sets and asking him which he loves most, and which he’d like to see on you tonight. 

There are videos too, especially when he’s been extremely busy, and you are oh so needy, sending him short recordings of touching yourself, sighing out his name, begging him to come and help you. However, there is one he particularly likes…

Big silicone cock is being pushed in and out by the machine he purchased for you to quell your need when your husband can’t be there for you. You are on your stomach, with hips slightly raised and pushed backwards, chasing the toy, and he can see the perfect outline of your pussy, outer lips swollen and puffy, covered in a sticky substance, opening and constricting in attempts to accommodate the girth. Your moans are sweet, so-so sweet, hitting a high pitch, when the dildo falls out and a thick glob of cum substitute escapes your pussy. And then another, and another, messing your thighs even more, ruining the towel underneath you. Yet you don’t stop, reaching behind, and pushing the tip back into your tight warmth, making the toy pick its pace again. It’s squelching, it’s so dirty, but it’s so hard to look away. You give yourself creampie, after creampie, sometimes stopping to collect the substance and push it inside with your digits, fingering, moaning and whining for your husband, wishing it’s his cum sploshing between your walls, breeding you.

Yes, it’s his favorite, almost 4-minute video. Ever the neat freak, he can’t deny you look heavenly when ruined, on an equally ruined bed, begging for his attention and semen. You have to forget about the machine for some time, however, because since then Sunday has been truly devoted to breeding you.