#then it turned into a habit of his to make them wear it

[syoddeye]

you get a new neighbor.

he moves into the flat across the courtyard. same floor, same narrow balcony. a smoker with restless, twitchy hands. you catch glimpses of him through the blinds.

you’ve never been one to keep them open—facing another unit all these years, privacy has been a comfort. but now, often without thinking, your fingers find the cord, tilting the cheap plastic slats just enough to peek through.

unlike you, he doesn’t bother with curtains. either unbothered or proud of his sparsely decorated, meticulously kept space. when he’s home, he spends hours in full view of his windows. sinking into his couch with a controller in hand, headset on. sometimes, not as often, a book. pacing, phone pressed to his ear, wearing a track into the floor.

more often than not, though, he’s maintaining his body. that, he clearly takes pride in. push-ups. crunches. weights. he’s fit. almost always shirtless. almost always in joggers or shorts. a thick pelt of hair across his chest, matching the wild, overgrown mess on his head. whatever cut he once had, it’s grown out strangely—a longer ridge along the top of his skull, like the raised hackles of a dog. it connects to an untrimmed tangle of a beard, hiding what must be a sharp jawline if it matches the body.

you know what it looks like—watching someone like this. if you admitted it to anyone, they’d call you a creep. a pervert.

but you can’t stop.

you don’t even know when your new little habit began. the moment the sun sinks, your lights go off. you sit in the dark, barely moving behind the slats. waiting. watching.

your spine goes rigid, every nerve at attention, when he steps onto the balcony for one of his many smokes of the night. saliva pools on your tongue in anticipation.

a cigarette dangles from his lips, moonlight catching every plane and muscle of his torso. he stretches. his big, broad back flexes as he grips the rail. biceps bulging when he pulls one arm over his chest, then the other, thatches of pit hair poking out.

however, it’s his eyes that draw you in.

bright blue. too bright. a glowing, animalic eyeshine. fresnel lenses, catching and refracting the light. as unnatural as they are alluring. unsettling in a way that itches at the back of your skull—but still, it makes you want to wrench the door open and leap across to him.

the same feeling you get standing at the edge of a cliff or rooftop.

then, he lifts his head. tilts it back until his nose juts into the air and sniffs.

you freeze. glance up at the closed, locked glass door. he can’t.

smoke billows from his lips as his gaze sweeps the courtyard. down at the ground, then scanning the floor beneath you. searching.

a shiver slides down your spine. you will yourself smaller, pressing into the shadows. he can’t possibly know you’re watching, let alone smell you through the walls and windows.

but then, just as you think he’ll go back inside, he turns his head slightly, just a fraction, toward you.

the cigarette burns, momentarily forgotten, between his fingers. his gaze fixes on you, direct and unblinking.

but there’s no way. no way he sees you in the dark.

then he smiles. the barest quirk of his lips. a knowing pull at the corner of his mouth.

he turns, steps inside, and yanks his blinds shut.

your breath catches. the slats slap against each other as you jerk back, heart hammering, blood roaring in your ears. you reach for the cord, fumbling, pulling too hard—yanking the entire thread free with a sharp, splintering snap.

not two minutes later, as you’re still panicking, up on your toes, uselessly trying to thread it back into place—an insistent knock rattles your door.

[specialistpinky]

*♡ big juicy ♡* | choso x oc

next episode

「 ✦ coke & rum ✦ 」

wc: 4.5k

a/n: heya! this is my first time trying out tumblr to post my works (2014 is soooo back), so we're gonna see how this goes. enjoy~!

bust down middle pointer, i got it black (i'm a big fine ho!) walkin' through the club lookin like a snack (but you knew that though)

—GET IT SEXYY by SEXYY RED

why the hell do they make these damn dorms so confusing? i think, wandering down the hall and hauling my luggage while looking down at the map again, squinting to make sure i'm heading in the right direction.

i take in my surroundings. the walls are bland beige with lime-green accents. a few back-to-school event flyers hang on the walls. the carpet is one of those funky 80s arcade patterns that kids used to throw up all over. 

these are supposed to be the senior dorms? i thought they would’ve been a hell of a lot nicer.

after a bunch of twists and turns and endless numbers that weren't my room, i creep up to a door, gazing at the three numbers plated on the side: 824.

"finally! praise Jesus," i sigh, rejoicing for my long-awaited rest.

i fold the paper up and stuff it in my back pocket. i breathe in and out, remembering that i have a roommate again. yeah, it's cheaper to live with someone else, but my privacy is crucial to me, and i have a very low tolerance for other people's bad habits, so i would’ve preferred living by myself. out of my control now, though.

i can only hope my roommate is fairly decent this time. last year, i got a trust fund baby who liked blasting the same five fucking songs all day, passed out drunk in the bathroom, and piled up dishes in the sink.

i knock on the door hard, seeing if someone will open it. i have a key, but i don't feel like opening it. my federal-ass knocking will surely get my roomie's attention. plus, i'd rather meet them from a distance than walk inside and find something i don't wanna see.

the lock clicks as the doorknob turns, the door creaking open.

"Yuji, it’s seven in the morning. i already told you i'm not letting you borrow my car."

my eyes widen a little. in the doorway stands a tall, grown-ass man with dark shoulder-length hair wearing a faded Metallica shirt and plaid boxers. he's littered with tattoos from what i can see, some of the work peeking from under his half-clad thighs. he's rubbing his eye like a tired child woken up from nap time and keeping them closed, clearly not seeing that i'm not "Yuji."

i cross my arms and squint. "who’re you?" i question, harboring a little bit of hostility in my voice—for good reason, though. a random man just opened the door when i fully expected a woman.

the guy stops rubbing his eyes and blinks once, twice before eyeing me up and down with an equally confused look.

"you're not Yuji," he rasps, scratching his chin.

i jut my hip out, cocking my head to the side. "yeah, definitely not. you’re not Ashlee."

i pull out the dorm letter from my other pocket to check if i'm crazy, and yep, still says Ashlee’s my roommate.

"is Ashlee here?" i look back up at the man who's sporting a deadpan face. i try to peer inside the room, asking, "are you like, her boyfriend or somethin'? cuz we’re gonna have to talk about how often you’re allowed to stay here."

he tilts in the same direction i'm moving, blocking my view. i frown. his face stays blank. "there's no Ashlee here," he says.

i stay silent for a moment. then i huff out of my nose and smirk. "alright, funny guy, quit fuckin' around and bring out my roommate."

he blinks all frog-like, slow and unbothered, then screws his eyes shut before scratching his eyebrow. "i’m telling you there’s no Ashlee here. i live here. you might have the wrong room."

i'm tempted to roll my eyes at his backtalk and slightly condescending tone, but i'm attempting to be nicer these days, so i offer a tight-lipped smile.

i speak calmly, "this is room 824, right?"

i knew the answer; i just wanted to see how he would respond. he seems to think i'm some fucking bimbo with no thoughts to my dainty little head.

the man scratches his neck and nods. "yeah?" his statement comes out more like a question.

i nod once, the top of my lip curling. "right, that's what i thought. so, i'm telling you," i emphasize my words by pointing at myself and then at the mystery man who claims to live in my dorm, "this is where i was assigned as per the letter."

i wave the flimsy piece of paper in the air and hold it out to him. "you're more than welcome to take a read."

he snatches the letter from me, aggravating my soul further as he stands there in his indecency and indignation. he skims the paper, muttering to himself before looking back up at me, a befuddled, fatigued look adorning his features.

he cocks an eyebrow, handing the paper back to me. "you're a girl, though," he comments intelligently. 

i can't help it as the whites of my eyes probably make themselves known and my irises disappear before reappearing.

i purse my lips together and make them pop, bucking my eyes for a second in irritation. "no shit, Sherlock," i spit. i sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "how the fuck did i end up in a co-ed dorm?" i mumble under my breath, trying to compose myself before i break down in the middle of this hallway and alarm the whole floor.

i suck my teeth and hold out a loud groan, making my way inside. "ugh, this is so ridiculous," i grumble, completely ignoring the man in the doorway.

he barely moves out of the doorway, making space for me to enter, a clear look of disdain i hardly acknowledge and feel targeting my backside.

"make yourself at home," he mumbles sarcastically.

i strut through the small space, looking around and humming, "not too bad. at least you keep it tidy in here." i turn back to the man whom i have the unfortunate pleasure of rooming with. "let’s keep it that way."

he doesn't reply beyond that weird little blink again. yuck! it gives me major goosebumps.

i try to keep the faces to a minimum as i walk up to my room door, pulling out a key from my purse to unlock it.

i twist the key and—

clunk!

"huh?" 

that didn’t sound good.

i try again, jiggling the key around this time but still feeling resistance. i twist using both hands and all my might to unlock my room. i grunt, pushing and turning until my fingertips turn bright red, then stop, out of breath from my effort.

i pinch my eyebrows together, frustrated at this stupid fucking door barring me from my one safe haven for the next ten months.

"urgh! damn it," i groan. i cock my leg back to kick the door but halt right before my foot makes contact. i don't have on shoes; i probably shouldn’t do that.

i growl low in my throat, banging my fist on the door and attempting to open it several more times before giving up. i sulk into the kitchen and sit down at the table. my roommate—i still don't know his name—is sitting on the couch, glued to the television, occupying his mouth with what looks like a sucker. looks a little young to be a heavy smoker. must be quitting.

the longer i look at him, the more i have to admit how attractive he is—fine as hell, even. his piercing lavender eyes are hypnotic. all them tattoos give a nice edge, and his boxers hanging on his hips with the little v-line poking out caught my attention. he's got those pink, pouty lips people kill for. he looks pretty well-kempt: nice clear skin, thick healthy hair, and clean nails. not typical male behavior. shit, he might be gay, huh?

i smack myself, shaking my head at the thoughts. so what if he is gay? i think, not like i should get at him, anyway.

i'm so glad i have a single because if i had to share a room with him? i don't even wanna put that into the air, man.

a hand waves over my face, snapping me out of my horny thoughts. i jump back and find my roommate standing before me with that confused, droopy look. i furrow my eyebrows and bark out a "what?"

he does that stupid bimbo blink again, then he smirks at me and says, "you were just standing there. figured you needed help."

jesus, we haven’t even made it 24 hours and he already knows how to push buttons i didn’t even know existed. 

and this is who i have to room with for the next nine months. awesome. just. awesome

"thought you would’ve scurried to your room by now,” he husks, his eyelids low and a smirk on his face.

i flip my hair out of my face. “can’t get in.”

“can't get into your room, huh?” he leans down to look me square in the face, swirling around the stick in his mouth. “that’s a shame. explains why you were struggling with the door."

so, he knew i was struggling and did nothing to help or ask me if i’m okay? what a fucking chump.

i scoff and roll my eyes so hard i feel them sticking to the back of my skull. i swear, if i roll them one more time, i'mma be stuck looking like the Exorcist.

i mutter a "whatever," spinning on my heel to grab my suitcases from outside.

when i open the front door, i notice that my stuff isn't there anymore. i peek from behind the door, looking in both directions of the hallway to see if anyone grabbed them by accident. or on purpose—you never know.

after a few seconds, i groan and shut the door, irritated that my stuff disappeared.

"yo, emo boy, you seen my stuff sitting in the hall...way?" i ask, my words trailing off as i turn around to see the man pointing behind me. i follow his direction, finding my luggage in the living room's corner.

i eye my housemate with crossed arms. "oh," i say simply.

the man mimics me while leaning back against the nearest wall with his foot kicked up. "you left them out there, and i figured you forgot, so i brought them in for you."

well, isn't that so sweet and thoughtful of him? golly, it makes it so much better than his attitude has the charm of a rock taped to a stick.

i nod once. "thank you," i say.

"you're welcome."

my gaze starts to wander again, trailing from his exposed collarbone to his flexed arms. i can make out some of his tattoos: a few birds scattered across his throat, a purple flower right below his Adam's apple, and a couple of names etched on his forearms.

he clears his throat with an amused expression. wow, i didn't think he made any other faces besides drowsy and nonchalant.

he cocks his head to the side. "see something you like, princess?"

oh, he wanna be bold. okay, i see what's going on.

i squint at him challengingly as i round the table, slowly making my way over to him and smiling at him with hooded eyes. "don't flatter yourself, boo. just wondering if you steal from Salvation Army or if you genuinely dress like that. plus, i tend to like my men a little..." i poke him in the middle of his chest, “meatier.” he follows my finger before looking back at me with a raised brow.

"anyways," i say, drawing out the word and backing away. "since you're in a helpful mood, could you grab Millie and roll her to my room?" i bat my eyelashes to add extra flare to my request. no one can resist it.

he keeps that same tired, disinterested look on his face, his hypnotic lavender irises raking up and down my body. he snorts with a smirk and walks past me, lightly shoulder-checking me and beelining for the couch.

fuck, that didn't work on him?!

i fix my face, clearing my throat as i walk to the fridge and duck down, finding a Coke way in the back of the top shelf. "jackpot," i whisper, swiping it and popping the tab open, gulping down half the drink in a few seconds. i let out a small burp before pushing out a louder one.

the man looks back at me and cringes, his nose scrunching up in disgust but not saying anything.

i meet his gaze, shrugging with no remorse. it's natural, so why not let loose? i take another sip and ask again, "so, can you get Millie for me, please?"

he blinks and turns back to the TV, his hands behind his head. "who the hell is Millie?" he rasps.

i groan, "ugh, Millie! my Millie!"

he turns back around and furrows an eyebrow. "again, who is Millie? is she a dog or something?"

i point to my luggage in the corner. "Millie's the cute sparkly rouge suitcase with the gold handle."

he looks at my hand directed at my luggage and then back at me, bewildered. "Millie's a suitcase." his words come out like a statement rather than a question.

i raise an eyebrow and roll my neck. "uh, duh. you got a hearing problem?"

"you named your suitcase?" he chuckles wryly.

i furrow my eyebrows. "well, obviously me. i name all my precious things."

he laughs harder. "who names their suitcase? that's so lame."

"you listen to Metallica, so," i mutter, taking a sip of my drink.

"what?" 

i shake my head. "nothing," i say, glancing to the side.

"right. you know, you have a bratty attitude," he comments. "it's incredible you haven’t managed to piss someone off enough to get kicked out."

i hide my grin behind the soda can and reply coyly, "who says i haven't already done that?"

"can't imagine how that happened," he huffs. he waves a hand and turns back to the TV. "anyhow, get your own suitcase."

i whimper dramatically, "but i've been packing, moving, and traveling since Monday, and i've been so tired lately, and my body is in total pain from all of it, so i don't think i'll be able to carry all of those heavy bags by my lonesome, and—”

"all right, okay, please just stop! i’ll do it," he relents, shaking his head and grumbling as he walks over to my stuff. he grabs Millie's handle, scoffing, "can't believe i'm doing this."

he pulls Millie; she doesn't budge. he turns around and stares at my bag confused. he pulls again, hardly moving her. he instead uses both hands, tugging backward until Millie squeaks and starts scraping her rusty wheels across the carpet.

"jesus, woman, what do you have in here—rocks?" he grunts.

i grin, leaning against the counter as his biceps flex with each pull. his neck veins and arm veins bulge against his pale skin, decorating his muscles nicely. that little frustrated look on his face amuses me, too. nothing like seeing a man struggle at the behest of a woman.

woah, Freudian slip much?

"need help over there?" i ask coyly.

he shakes his head, readjusting his grip and stabilizing his body before pulling Millie in one last swift motion, clobbering his foot with one of her wheels in the process. he stumbles back and hits the wall, cursing, "fucking shit!” he crouches down to soothe his injury.

i let out a hard "HA!" before covering it up with a cough. i keep drinking to keep from laughing again. he hears me (not a shocker), so i'm met with a nasty glare, which makes me snort and nearly spit out my soda. I don’t blame him for that. i would do the same if i were made to do someone else's mundane bidding and they started laughing at me after i hurt myself. unfortunately for him—and fortunately for me—i'm not in that situation.

i notice the red mark appearing on the hilt of his foot from the kitchen. i coo mockingly, "oh no! poor baby. need me to kiss your boo-boo?"

he looks at me with another grimace, baring his teeth. i stick my tongue out playfully. i watch him wobble as he stands back up, grunting with each limp he takes to his room and saying under his breath "brat" before slamming the door behind him.

i can't help but smirk again. i was going to ask him to take Bobbi and Brownie with him for me, but he's injured now—wouldn't want him to somehow die on me and i be held liable for his early demise.

i continue sipping on my soda as i pull my phone out of my purse and call up my homegirl. 

she picks up after the second ring. "hey, bitch!"

"hey, babe. where you at?"

"i'm at home. why, what's up?"

i cross my legs and lean back in my chair. "girl! i'm so fucking exhausted, but i need to go shopping for my room. you got time today?"

"girl, i don’t know. i'm supposed to be going to brunch soon."

i suck my teeth. "boo, you whore. and to think i was gonna treat you to barbecue. oh well, i'll call someone else."

"wait, wait, wait! lemme see what Nana says."

i hear some rustling and hushed voices in the background. i shouldn't be surprised she was laid up in the bed with her man and didn't tell me, knowing how shameless that girl is.

i don't comment and patiently wait for her reply.

"okay, he's gonna push brunch to dinner. you lucky as fuck my man's chill like that cuz we had reservations."

"damn, my bad. should've told me. now i feel like i'm disturbing y'all."

she sighs, "it's fine. plus, i haven't seen you in like, three months. i miss my boo!"

"i missed you, too, boo. but, bitch, lemme tell you!" i rub my forehead and whine, "these muthafuckas got me all the way fucked up cuz why the fuck did they give the wrong roommate?"

"girl, how the fuck do they give you the wrong roommate?"

"man, i have no idea, but i guess it could be worse."

"who is it? it ain't that rich bitch from last year, is it? cuz i'll beat that ho ass again just cuz i can."

i chuckle at her quick resort to violence. "nah, it ain't her," i say. "i heard she transferred to some private school overseas, so i'on know why she'd come back to this ghetto ass school."

"she betta not. anyways, who you rooming with?"

i mentally prepare myself as i say, "chile, why i get a man–?"

before i can even finish, i hear a shrill scream from the other side. i pull the phone back, looking at it like it offended me. i mean, my ears are offended with allat fucking screaming she doing early in the morning. her neighbors must think she get stabbed every time she and her man hunch (which i have the displeasure of knowing they have sex every day, so i can only imagine).

"BITCH, THEY PUT YOU WITH A MAN? bitch, oh my god, you so fuckin' lucky! that was my number-one fantasy for years! is he hot??"

i chuckle, peering around the room to see if he was around. i cover my mouth and whisper into the receiver, "girl, the man is fine as all hell."

"and you ain't tell me?! what he look like?"

"bitch, i just found out like 30 minutes ago i had a male roommate. he a emo boy, first of all."

"oh, okay, okay, we love a good emo boy. i heard they got big dicks, too!"

"girl, shut up ‘fore you get in trouble with Nanami! anyways, he hella tall and he buff, but he ain't buff buff. to be honest, he look kinda sickly and malnourished. makes me wonder what he be eating for him to look like that."

another loud but less deafening squeal assaults my eardrum. "sounds like he need to be fed, then!" 

i can hear her eyebrows wiggling through the phone. she continues, "ooo, bitch, i need to come over and see what he look like right NEOW. cuz if you don't fuck him, i will!"

i belly-laugh, knocking my head back. "bruh, he ain't even my type for real," i quip. "also, don't you got a whole ass boyfriend?" i giggle through my words.

"aye, as i always say: don't let your current boyfriend—"

"stop you from finding your future husband. yeah, yeah, i know how that goes," i finish for her, chewing on my bottom lip. "i mean, you still shouldn't do it for your sake."

"i know, i know, i'm just playin'! plus, my Kento treats me so well. he’s practically my husband at this point. i can't let him go. neva eva!"

i know she will never let that man go. the way he dotes on her hand and foot with no hesitation makes my heart swell and my stomach sick at the same time. seeing them together restores my faith in humanity bit by bit, and i can only wish for something like that to come my way.

i look at myself in the mirror across from me, noticing my lip makeup fading and my hair losing its shape.

i stand up, going over to my other luggage and rummaging through them to find my makeup bag, finding my gloss and lip liner pencil. i get up to fix myself up in the hallway mirror and reapply my lipgloss while i talk. "you betta not. cuz if you do, imma beat that ass and take him for myself."

"oooh, i'm so scared. Nanamin, baby, save me! bestie said she's gonna hurt me and steal you away from me."

i hear her pouting through the phone and Kento murmuring in the background. i press the phone between my ear and my shoulder as i rake my fingers through my hair.

"girl, bye. you're such a drama queen. also, hey, Kento."

i hear a deep but small "hello" back. there’s more shuffling and whispering before my friend comes back on the phone.

"bitch, you're crowned royalty for drama. pot calling the kettle black as hell."

"sure, whatever you say. also imma need you to pick me cuz i don't got a car right now."

"what? the hell happened to your car?"

i suck my teeth. "girl, 'member how i told you my sister crashed her bucket drunk driving a couple weeks ago? my mom was all like, 'she needs a car until we can get her a new one, so we need to keep yours at home.' like dude, it's MY car! how you just gon' take my car that i bought with my own money? shit is wicked."

"damn, bitch, for real? a'ight, i'll come get you in twenty minutes because you know i love me a good spree."

i smile. "cool, cuz i need to figure out how i'mma get into my room before i go to sleep tonight."

"how you locked out the room already? you just got there."

i sigh, "bitch, i'on know. these people get on my fuckin' nerves."

"we'll lockpick it when i get there. see you then! kisses. muah!"

"bye, love you. mwah!" i send a kiss through the phone before hanging up.

i rake my hands through my hair, fluffing it poofier before giving myself a toothy grin and blowing a kiss in the mirror.

i hear a low wolf whistle. "wow, bratty and conceited? a double trouble princess."

i whip my head around to see emo boy leaning against the wall, now wearing loose gray sweatpants and a Cocteau Twins muscle tee with his hair in two spiky space buns. shit, i might've been lying when i joked about him not being my type. he need to stop dressing like that before i throw him on a street corner and make some money off him.

i throw him a tight-lipped smile and go back to messing with my hair in the mirror. "bratty? always. conceited? not over here, honey. just a hottie with high self-esteem."

"is that right?" he husks. i hear him moving but pay him no mind as i straighten my skirt. i turn around, looking at the back of it. i smile, seeing my ass poking out from underneath the skimpy garment.

i gaze at myself for a little longer, my eyes traveling up my body before they land on emo boy standing right behind me. i flinch a little, turning my head to face him.

his tired eyes flash an emotion i can't discern. for a moment, it looked like lust.

i take a deep breath. i cock an eyebrow and ask, "can i help you?"

he stays quiet, looking down at me with that creepy lopsided smile. he eyes me up and down before stepping away, beelining for the couch and plopping down, kicking his socked feet up on the coffee table. he flicks through television channels as he says, "that outfit suits you."

the fuck is that supposed to mean?

i let out a short laugh, pulling my shirt down before turning to my housemate. "them eye-bags suit you, too, emo boy."

that man need to find him some business 'fore i find some for him. shit, he can find some business himself between these muthafuckin' chocolate thighs.

ugh, i should stop thinkin' like that about my housemate. i would rather not get caught up in another situationship or get involved with someone from this school ever again, even if it runs an exhilarating chill down my spine to imagine how big it is .

picking up my phone from the counter, i text my friend.

yo, eta?

bout 10 minutes ;)))

i sigh, going back to the kitchen table and sitting my chin in my palm. i'm still annoyed at the fact that my door is jammed. if she can't get into the room, i'm gonna have to call maintenance, which definitely puts a dent in my plans to sleep tomorrow morning.

that doesn't stop me from mentally planning my decorations. i imagine where i want my posters arranged. i have a few Britney Spears and Tyra Banks posters stowed away in my suitcases, and the canopy i bought back home should be coming in the mail soon. then, after my target trip, my room should be a girl's paradise times 100.

optimizing is key while i'm here. i should probably get a set of speakers and some lights, too. maybe a bean bag if there's space.

so many ideas, so little time and money.

knock, knock, knock!

i perk up, clapping my hands and bouncing a little in my seat. "yay, my bestie is here! eek!" i squeal. i stand up to greet her at the door only to find my housemate already opening the door. he barely cracks it open and he's blocking the way, so i can't see who's on the other side. eventually, my housemate moves to the side, letting the other person walk in. i look to who it is. my eyes widen and my jaw drops as i watch them walk in. before i can even control it, i find myself whispering in shock.

"Itadori?"

[gojoest]

sae-nii thoughts creeping in again im afraid

[devil-in-hiding]

something something reader is a bartender at a popular little pub, and night after night you are hit on by men so plastered you often have to sigh and call over one of the guys you work with the idiots end up vomiting all over themselves (sometimes it’s worse than vomit but thankfully you can count those incidents on one hand)

you think by slipping on your grandmothers old wedding ring, it will sway men from hitting on you at work. And it does, there’s still some that try to test their luck, but the minute you flash that pearl on your finger they’re scurrying off to find their next target.

Cue four new regulars, four attractive military men that always flash you a polite smile and leave you a nice tip. Price comes in more than the others, claiming the stool near your register for himself, Ghost doing the same the rare nights he slinks into the pub. Soap and Gaz come in together some weekends, sitting themselves in front of you with big grins on their faces as they watch the game on the tv overhead.

They’re all sweet, a little cocky at times but nothing that one of their grins or sly remarks can’t make up for. They ask how their favorite girl is doing when they return from longer missions, genuinely listening as you fill them in on the things that have happened since they’ve been away.

Perfect gentlemen.

Until one night you forget your ring, having had to rush your shower and sprint out the door to make it to the pub before the nightly rush.

You filling glasses when you hear the chime of the bell and a familiar laugh fill the pub.

“Was wondering if I’d see you boys tonight.” You smile, motioning for them to give you a moment as you serve the other patrons.

When you slide back over to them, you immediately reach for their usual glasses, grabbing your cloth to wipe them off, when a hand clamps around your wrist and you jump, nearly dropping the glass as Ghost turns your hand over in his.

“Trouble at home pretty?” Price comments, concern etched on his face and it takes a moment for you to catch on, and you can’t help the little giggle that spills out.

“Oh! My ring… It’s kind of a funny story. I uhm.. I’m not actually married.” You laugh, expecting them to laugh along with you, but all you feel are four pairs of eyes piercing into you.

“Come again?” Gaz asks, voice a tad deeper than usual and you ignore the chills it sends down your spine.

“I started wearing it so some of the drunkards would leave me be, kind of forgot about it, just became habit.” You chuckle nervously, hand still in Ghost’s grasp and he’s eyeing you in a way you’ve never seen before.

“Hm. Interesting.”

[screampied]

❛ BED CHEM! ❜ t. fushiguro + k. nanami

☆ sum. being sandwiched between two of your co-stars during a séx scene sounds like a fever dream. the real fever dream is finding out who you have better bed chemistry with. the sweet blond who always talks you through it or the smug dark haired one who’s constantly stealing your panties.

wc. 5.9k

warnings. fem! reader, actor au, thréesomes, unprotected, semi-public, they eat you out at the same time, cervix mentions, premature ejac, size difference, dirty talk, pússy drunk men, praise, spít roasting, óral (f! & m! receiving), hair pulling, size kinks, bóob fondling, overstim.

“annnnd action.”

you mentally bite your lip, feeling every nerve through your body convulse from your co-stars touches. toji fushiguro and nanami kento—the most current hottest topic, you had this last scene to shoot for a movie you were the lead in. the scene in question was quite raunchy to say the least, both of them take turns to plant soft chaste kisses down both sides of your neck. both signature scents of their colognes were loud, a musk that forevermore wafts against your nose. your eyes flicker toward the camera every so often, trying to stay in character. this was probably the fifth take—you had a bit of a bad habit of missing your lines so there’d be a few retakes. emphasis on few.

“ken, look at her,” toji murmurs, and a gasp merely slips from you once his parted tongue creeps past his lips and onto your neck. his hand slowly trails toward your thigh and he squeezes it. “such a pretty thing. want more, do ya princess?”

you nod as a response but that’s when nanami’s hand gently cups underneath your chin. gingerly, a thumb ghosts by your bottom lip and he speaks sweetly. “ah, now sweetheart. we talked about that, we need a pretty answer from you, not a nod.”

“i- i want more,” you stammer, and as toji’s scarred hands continue to roam down your body, you suck in a keen sharp breath. the air felt substantially thick, mainly due to how all three of you were acting in a big spacey sauna. your hand grabs toji’s wrist and you slowly guide it down between the valley of your legs. the static of his plump shriveled fingertips brush up between the crevices of your thighs and it nearly makes you break character. “i want you both, please.”

“aw,” toji hums hoarsely, his pursed lips forming into a wry grin.

the more their hands ran down every inch of your body, the more your heart beat raced. its thumping quickened, and your thighs forcibly squeeze themselves together. the dark haired male softly creates circles around your thighs with a single digit before speaking breathlessly. “you want both of us, huh. not jus one? that’s bein’ pretty greedy, doll.”

“toji, she can be greedy if she wants,” nanami coos, and you make direct contact with him. .

the nanami kento, you’ve heard a lot about him. him and toji were both hot favored actors but him. actresses would kill to be in your role, kill to be in your shoes.

nanami kento was as smooth as they come.

suave, a gentleman, and of course, a smooth talker. your eyes gawk down his attire and he’s wearing nothing but casual—his sleeves were sexily rolled up and his usually parted blond hair was slightly ruffled and unkempt - most likely due to the growing humidity of the sauna.

tender brown eyes bore into you before he places a kiss near the twitching corner of your mouth. “relax, sweetheart. you’ll get what you want, promise. just be a good girl. can you do that?”

feeling as if your thighs were stuck together by imaginary adhesive glue, you let off a soft panting whine. “y- yes,” and you gasp, watching as toji’s head creeps lower. he’s being slow on purpose, teasing you—wanting for you to long for more, for him to hurry up.

a few bristles of his hair tickles and pokes against your leg before your chin’s softly being grabbed by nanami again.

“ah ah, eyes on me. don’t worry about him, focus just on me sweetheart,” and the two of you lock eyes. nanami’s dimples poke against the left side of his lips and he’s so pretty, he cups your cheek and you instantly lean into his touch. “good girl, get lost in my eyes.”

your mind’s running at such quick speed—it’s trying to remember the next parts of the script as they continue the foreplay. nothing could really be heard except for nanami’s gruff low voice and the faint whirring inside of the sauna.

the next scene, nanami would lean in for a kiss and toji would eat you out. you remember looking over the filthy script many months ago before you even landed the roll.

as your eyes would skim through every word, the explicit dialogue—the mannerisms they’d perform on you, a school of swarming butterflies would pour inside the pits of your stomach.

and now, it’s finally here.

it’s as if time stood still once nanami starts to lean in, closing the awkward distance between you two. once his lips gently crash onto yours, it’s as if your heart stopped for a minute. tender, passionate, and open-mouthed.

your head slightly tilts as you part your lips wider to give him access. nanami lowly groans in your mouth, tasting your syrupy saliva tangle against his own. “mhm,” and every few seconds, loud echoing smacks would slam against both lips. he tastes minty, but on his tongue you could also taste a bit of alcohol lingering on his breath. it’s sweet, and you wanted more. whilst his tongue’s being shoved down your throat, toji scoffs. he’s propped right up between your legs and you feel his big wide hands spread your thighs more.

a nonplus gasp leaves your lips at his roughly gentle touch — your body can’t help but grind against nanami, wrapping an arm and tossing it over his shoulder. “fuck,” you speak between sultry hot kisses, another one of your hands running down the bare slit part of his exposed chest. there, you’re met with a few curls of blond chest hair. you twirl it around with your finger and he groans in your mouth at your touch. back to toji, he starts slow. he creates sloppy wet licks and kisses that trail all down from your waist until he’s finally near your shorts.

“watch that mouth of yours,” toji utters, hot breath ghosting between your thighs.

he’d get closer and closer, closer until he’s just inches away from your the pretty fabric that sticks against your skin. verdant green eyes peer into the cloth that’s attached to your panties and he hums. “cute,” he rasps, pulling down the hem of your shorts for a quick inside peek. “looks like you remembered to wear panties this time after all. somebody’s learnin’, heh.”

“toji, stop teasing me,” your breath hitches, feeling nanami pull away to kiss near your neck once more. he was so gentle, curling his tongue around that sweet spot buried right near the inside of your neck and it makes you oh so weak.

toji just gives you a sly deadpans at you needy comment, slowly pulling down your denim bedazzled shorts.

with a scoff, he tugs on your panties with his teeth. “nah,” and with the fabric in his mouth, his words were a bit muffled. “dunno what’s the point of wearing these stupid things since ‘m jus gonna steal them again anyway.���

a breath gets lodged in your throat once nanami starts to suck against your neck, his teeth gingerly grazing against your skin. his breath was always so warm, every time it sets against your bare flesh you moan. as your glossy eyes ogle down back at nanami, you huff with a cute frustrated expression. your eyebrows knit and compress together and you merely whine. “just hurry the fuck up,” and your neck starts to lean back a bit. with both men having their hands on you—you weren’t sure how long you’d last.

constantly, you had to keep reminding yourself, it’s just a movie, it’s just another scene. .

or is it?

you’re entrapped inside of your thoughts, fully forgetting that you’re on film. as you’re in a temporary fantasm—you bite your lip before a clammy hand finds its way through toji’s shaggy ravened strands. instantaneously, black tresses entwine between your silvery fingers and you moan. he lays his tongue flat, teasingly lapping near the center part of your panties.

fuck, you’ve read over his parts specifically at least a dozen times and knew what he had to do during this scene but you didn’t expect it to feel this good.

toji’s breath was balmy, slow breaths whirl and fan against your clit that’s just barely being protected by the string of your panties.

nanami’s sloppy kisses trail down toward your chest and oh, you felt like you were floating. “poor baby’s fuckin’ soaked,” toji snickers as a fat thumb drags down your sopping cunt. he’s so quick that you don’t even realized he pulled down your panties—you don’t even know where they went. probably in his pocket, again. you feel a wave of heat flush over you as you can feel his feral gaze stare into your twitching muscle. “look at my girl’s nasty ‘lil pulse.” he hums, and his tongue does one single beginning lick near your folds. you whine, and his cold tongue as cold as ice. it’s a type of feeling you couldn’t put into words.

“toji, don’t hog her. i want a taste too,” nanami says in a gentle voice. speaking of, nanami could say the most nastiest things and it would still end up coming out like a compliment.

“s- shit,” you kiss your teeth, watching both of them with near half-lidded eyes once you see nanami’s head creep down also.

now, you’re being met with a chilling hungry yet feral gaze. you throbbed even more as you’re sprawled all out against the fragile bench of the sauna. tears of perspiration start to bubble against your skin as the heat gets a bit more thicker. it’s humid, and you don’t know if it was the temp of the sauna or them making you feel hot but you wanted more. your eyes meet them again, and you feel yourself getting more aroused once you realize. . they were both down on their knees for you.

to your left—there’s toji, he’s got the must smug expression. already near the left side of his lip, there’s a few droplets of your honeyed slick coating against his mouth. all from a single lick, you felt embarrassed at how wet you were. it was actually in the script that they would use lube to help you but clearly, you didn’t need it in the slightest. toji’s wearing a burgundy tank top that nearly sticks against his hard toned pecs. he’s so toned, a burly beefy body that looks almost chiseled, stoned. he looks like he’s been literally carved and sculptured from top to bottom. your eyes stare at his broad shoulders, his thick pecs, and even how a few of his black chest hairs pokes out from his shirt.

and then to your right, there’s nanami. a thumb of his slowly makes its way down your drooling salivating cunt and he’s almost in awe.

his pink glossy lips press up towards your entrance before he gives it a soft welcoming kiss. you moan at how delicate he was, and the longing tender stare he constantly gave you merely made your knees buckle. as the humidity rises in the sauna, strands of his hair continue to swelter against his forehead with the help of slimy sweat.

“my, my,” he purrs in a low voice, and they’re both right between your thighs. you couldn’t help but feel a palpitating sensation brew up between your legs. “we’ve got ourselves a wet one, toji.”

“yeah,” the dark haired murmurs, and his eyes narrow. but toji wasn’t fond of sharing - not one bit.

with a piqued eye roll, he leans in to lap his tongue against your pussy once more before nanami follows.

you release a sweet elongated moan you were holding in for the longest - but you remembered you had to be dramatic for the scene — fake.

that was kind of hard considering the blatant fact that yhey were actually making you feel good. but alas, you lazily slouch back against the wooden bench, letting off your best exaggerated moan.

nanami and toji both look at you at the same time and toji refrains himself from bursting out laughing. staying in character, he clears his throat, spanking your cunt. you moan, and your grip against his hair becomes more rough. he feels you yanks forward with a solid tug, grunting, and that’s when you feel nanami’s soft tongue present itself too.

slow, his tongue slowly runs itself against your pulsing clit and your eyes gradually roll themselves back. it’s now to where they’re both lapping up your dripping taste at the exact same time—both sloppy tongues flicking and slithering against your cunt oh, and you were an entire mess. it’s as if they were competing against each other. as they both bury their heads between your thighs, you start to shake, dragging their heads back and forth into your sopping pussy.

with your toes curling and your chest heaving, you mewl out a sweet whine. “oh my g-god,” your voice squeaks out, swallowing your own sheer arousing embarrassment.

their breaths collide against each other and land right on your pussy. so pretty, nanami’s eyes were closed whilst toji’s were wide open. he’s giving you a smug cheeky grin the entire time, using a thumb to occasionally glissade down against your twitching pussy. “damn, taste so sweet,” toji grunts, and you can hear the salacious timbre in his voice. a voice so deep that your thighs vibrate together. fuck, your hands end up delving through each of their strands of hair, tightly pulling them closer towards your pulsating heat.

both hairs curl within your fingers before you pull their faces even closer against your crying cunt, almost suffocating them. “mhm,” toji’s lips nearly glue against your pasty folds.

nanami’s tongue romantically swirls itself around until it reaches near your sweet nub.

that spot - your brain haphazardly haywires and short circuits right away and your knees almost collapse. “fuck, f- fuck ‘ken.” you gasp, dragging his head up. once you do, you’re met with a sleazy smile—he’s pussy drunk. it takes you a minute to realize maybe he’s not being in character anymore. nanami’s dimple still prods against both sides of his cheeks before he leans down, spitting right against your cunt.

“go on, ‘toj. lick it up since you wanna be greedy,” nanami playfully titters, running a hand through his hair just so he could touch your fingers.

toji’s shooting vexed daggers toward the blond before he’s almost nose deep against your pussy.

once he’s actually nose deep, he sniffs your cunt, spitting on it before lapping it right up. he does it all while staring at you too. “hmph,” he grouses, his long tongue moving toward nanami’s area, now slurping up nanami’s own sheeny trickling saliva.

you couldn’t lie, watching the entire risqué scene of both men fighting over eating you out right before you, right between your legs made you throb even more.

toji’s raven arched brows tweak inward before a hand of his pries your left thigh further apart. “don’t fuckin’ tell me what ‘ta do.”

nanami chuckles, pressing kisses near the warm crevices of your thighs. fawn sparkling irises flicker toward you before he whispers. “you doin’ okay, sweetheart. ‘s alright?”

“y- yeah,” your voice grows more shaky as toji continues. as if it had a mind of its own, a hand of yours tugs on nanami’s hair, guiding his head back toward between your thighs. nanami shakes his head with a cunning smile, going back to lapping at your tasty treat stored right between your plush thighs. swallowing a circled lump that resides at the back of your throat, your legs start to jolt. “f- fuuuuck,” your voice strains, and toji and nanami’s just making out with your pussy.

you watch the entire time—occasionally glancing up at the large propped up canon camera that’s a few feet away from you. oh right, it’s just a scene.

you were practically using your bottom lip as chewing gum with how they were vigorously eating out your starved cunt as if it was their last meal. they both used their crimpy long tongues to create such filthy circles and shapes on and around your pussy, maneuvering their fingers inside your cunt and all.

your breath starts to grow more and more irregular — changing its speed to being a lot more quicker the more they remain sat between your thighs.

“she’s gettin’ close,” toji murmurs between sloshes of smacks with his lips. each lewd ‘pop’ he makes with his lips leaves you dizzy and begging for more. the edge of his scar that runs down the right side of his mouth smears and rubs all up against your clit and it feels so good. it tickles, but in a more raunchy kind of way.

with nanami occasionally blowing and whistling against your folds, you were surely about to lose it. your mind’s spiraling—and as your fingers remain tangled in both ruffled strands and curls of hair, their chins start to glimmer and stream down with your candied slick. “look at me, girl.” toji pats your cunt, although it’s more of a wet slap. you whimper, moist doused droplets coming from your own pussy wetting his palm right away.

your eyes meet toji and the laps of his tongue grow faster. he’s munching against your pussy, swerving his head from back and forth before he grunts, playfully biting down on your clit. not hard, but enough to where it makes you let off a cute shriek. “cum, cum on my tongue, baby.”

“ah, i think you mean cum on mine,” nanami corrects him, giving your sensitive twitching clitoral hood a single kiss.

your eyes go back and forth between the two of them, but you can’t even reply because within seconds, you’re cumming, hard.

your mouth slightly drops whilst your jaw dramatically hangs open—pathetically dangling open as they’re still lapping you clean. both scorching hot tips of your ears were stuffed with imaginary fuzz. you couldn’t hear for a few long seconds—not to mention, your body was being invaded by a plethora of tingles that shot through your body.

“f-fuuuckk,” you whine, and you’re uncontrollably shaking. it’s a rush, a crazed rush that you do don’t want to stop. as you’re spasming, you glance down at the two of them.

“mphm,” toji’s still slurping at your dewy slick juices that stream from you before nanami’s tongue gets tangled with his. he blinks thrice, and their lips abruptly meet. panting and heaving, you watch—not really remembering if that was on script but neither exactly pulls away.

they’re focusing their sloppy slick tongues on your spasming convulsing cunt while mashing glossed lips together. you throbbed at the lewd sight of your two co-stars, seeing toji grow flustered and nanami being a bit more dominant.

that was rare, as stoic as of a man that he was, you’d last expect to see toji this way. you moan, still felling their sloshing wet tongues twirl around the insides of your sobbing pussy all whilst they’re making out. at contact, they’re both tasting nothing but you on their tongues the entire time, a concoction of saliva entangles with each other as they relish in savoring your sweet taste on their tastebuds.

“maybe you’re the one who needed attention,” nanami gradually pulls away, stands of shimmery saliva dragging away from both pursed lips.

“tch. shut up,” toji grumbles, and he focuses back toward you. he slides a tongue across and over crooked his lips.

the next thing you knew—you were being lifted up, tossed right over toji’s burly shoulder.

you gasp, feeling nanami’s gentle eyes bore into your curves before he positions you, using a single hand to spread your shivering thighs apart. you were still a bit shaky and sensitive from your most recent release—your teeth still shattered and saw how their jaws locked, especially toji’s.

you felt every nerve jolt through your body, coursing through your veins.

but once the actual scene came, you were screwed.

it wasn’t fake anymore, your orgasms and moans were very much real now. and that was perfect, you were perfect, because behind the lens—it not only felt real but it looked real too.

your pretty expressions, your flat pink tongue lolling out of your mouth and the way you’re panting. toji’s fucking you from behind and he’s just mean. hard thorough strokes that makes his hips snap right into you, crash into you at full speed to where he’s creating a fatal collision.

“ah, open,” nanami whispers, and your eyelids that were practically droopy glance up. you’re met with nanami. the blond’s got a hand resting on top of the crown of your head before he taps a thumb against your cheek. “let me see that pretty mouth some more, my love,” and you lean into his touch. toji’s hips however were so rude—your sweet incoherent babbles soon starts to grow a bit more quavery due to how rickety he made your body. the olden wood of the sauna nearly splits and you can hear the blaring cracks after each rocky thrust. your lips part open and your eyes go straight toward his cock. his boxers were halfway on with the cerulean blue hem of it just hanging and protecting his sharp carvend v-line.

so pretty, you just wanted to run your tongue up and down and across every line and spot that decorates his soft skin.

“ngh, a-atta girl,” the blond’s brows reluctantly twist together, watching your warm mouth slowly take him in fully.

god, your eyes were so mesmerizing to look at. he delicately cups underneath your chin, feeling the minuscule amounts of saliva drip from your lips. your jaw remains to hang open, dangling like an earring—and that’s when he’s slowly inching himself inside your tight warm throat.

immediately, you see a bit of his blond curly pubes through your blurred peripherals. nanami’s abs clench and tighten at the feeling of your hot mouth and he groans. “my good . . girl, ugh. pretty girl with an even prettier throat.”

toji’s still propped up behind you, two broad hands attached to your waist—practically glued on. you whine, your sweet noises becoming muffled as his hips plummet into you raw.

you feel your toes curl up within each sloppy degrading thrust he makes. as you’re taking nanami’s cock, you swirl your tongue around his mushroom tip that’s got a faint splash of pink painting near the very top. he’s bittersweet, your lashes flutter as your pretty plump lips envelope around his hefty length. a single prodding vein that runs down his cock twitches inside of your mouth and you moan at the feeling.

“fuck,” toji hisses, feeling your gummy insides squeeze and clamp around him. you’ve got your back arched as your hands cling onto the sauna’s ligneous bench.

the furniture’s woody and it continuously tottering by the second—loudly creaking as his pivotal strokes deepen. every few seconds, he’d swat a palm against your ass just to hear your cute whimpers. toji likes to gawk at the recoil, the way your ass cheek jolts back against his hand from the spank, it’s cute.

the concise twinges that follow from his hand makes your moans get louder, reverberating through the thin tapered walls of the sauna.

raspy pants leave from toji’s gruff vocal chords before his callous fingertips dig deep into the fat of your hips. his foot’s tapping against the floor as his head slightly cocks itself back. “mhm, shit. such a nasty girl, gettin’ stuffed from front ‘ta back. ‘s that what you really wanted, hm?”

since your mouth was currently occupied with nanami’s thick inches—you nod while starting to feel his bulbous tip repeatedly thwack back against the roof of your mouth. your eyes squeeze shut for a second as you’re twirling your tongue around his veiny length. steadily, nanami’s cock grows inside your mouth and you happily keep it warm. each twitching vein that runs down his shaft, you flick your tongue against it just to hear him moan out your name. you’re so aroused that you try to sneak a hand down between your trembly thighs, only to be swatted away by toji’s hand. you whine, a pout forming against your swollen lips as his pace quickens.

“no touchin’ my pussy,” he mumbles, and you felt yourself twitch. now that wasn’t in the script, but the more he smacked your cunt, the more you felt extra butterflies stir inside your stomach.

toji’s got such a good angle on you—he’s ferocious, ravaging through your pasty walls, feeling your sloppy slick run all down his cock.

your ass almost glues against his pelvis, and that’s when he leans right up against you. skin against skin, big hands reach near your chest, toying with your bouncy neglected tits. you moan, feeling his thumbs curl and squeeze against your perky nipples that poke through the blouse of your shirt. “such a pretty rack, yeah,” he lowly whispers, licking near your neck. his voice was so low up against your ear. so low, the playfulness in his voice was almost enough to make you cream on his cock right then. toji’s base was very full, and he’s now just smacking against your bare ass with. a few seconds later, he groans, feeling the brief pangs of electricity ripple near the undersides of his meaty calves. “ugh, god such a pretty view like this though. ‘ken fuckin’ wishes he had my spot.”

“oh, don’t flatter yourself, toji,” the blond hums, though as he’s speaking, you could tell he’s flustered.

your tongue has nanami stammering a bit, he’s patting your head, strumming a thumb against your pursed lips. once he meets your gaze, his breath nearly gets stolen away. “you’re doin’ so good, sweetheart. makin’ me feel so good,” and you watch his adam’s apple bobble. his praise warmed something in your heart.

it was something about being degraded from behind and praised near the front.

toji’s reeling your ass further back into his hips with ease whilst you’re focusing your eyes strictly on nanami. nanami’s heart races at the sight of you and now, he’s wondering if this really is just a scene anymore.

he found himself getting lost in your eyes—maybe it was a bit unprofessional, but you’ve had the gaze of an ethereal galaxy. the way your pupils would doe up and dilate as your head goes up and down against his length, he wanted more of you.

“that’s it,” he grunts, running a hand through his matted blond strands. nanami nearly loses his balance once your sucking turns into slurping. you’re a mess, your entire chin being damp because of your own saliva. he wipes some of it up with his thumb, only to taste it himself and he moans. your head continuing to bobble and he’s about to break, no, he is breaking. “slobber a- all on it, don’t be shy pretty girl. ‘s okay to be my messy girl. there we go.”

“tch.” toji’s eyes roll, and he’s still striking into you. your cunt was clingy, gripping around him tightly like a vice. the feeling makes his jaw tighten whilst your stomach seizes in rapture. he’s so deep, your limbs felt so flimsy as your pathetic breaths start to get more strained and breathy.

toji’s grip was angry, it’s french kissing right up against your cervix and you can’t help but let off a squeal. right there, he knows that’s your sweet spot and once he suddenly realizes it, his rude thrusts become purely maddened.

more souse streams of saliva drips down your chin as you’re slathering the entirety of nanami’s cock with your own filthy viscid spit. you look so pretty, cock drunk and on the verge of finishing yet again.

toji fucks like a madman—each stroke felt like your entire body was gonna snap in half. his body’s hovering over you and his warm completely radiates against your own. he’s so close that he’s merely humping you, sloppy greedy strokes becoming more feral as the seconds pass. his tip massaged your walls through and through, and your eyes were rolling way back until you saw nothing but pearly white at the back of your sockets.

by this point, this entire scene didn’t feel like you were filming for a movie anymore. it slipped your mind, you forgot this was literally your job.

“s- sweetheart, ‘m gonna cum,” a husky voice interrupts your thoughts, and your tongue still toys with his leaky slit. a hand of yours wraps around his full base, stroking him with a few good solid pumps and he’s so close. your touch made him shudder, the kind of shudder where he’s just addictive for more.

more of you.

“heh, that’s right. milk the pretty boy, babygirl. he’s all flustered because of y’er throat. that’s rich,” toji snickers, a rough cackle leaving his lips as his eyes meets his abashed co-star.

it was true, nanami was entirely flustered—he’s even avoiding eye contact now and sweating pinballs. toji’s hands were now sweating from the palms and he pulls your hips continuously back into him, each slam becoming more merciless.

but fuck, his cock was just insanely thick — it expanded through your walls as your cunt merrily constricts around his length.

it slides in and out, the squelches that your cunt makes because of it leaves you craving for more. your sopping wet, and he’s only making it ten times worse nanami narrows his eyes at toji’s teasing, lightly pulling your head down just a bit more to keep your attention back towards him. “hah, don’t listen to him, pretty. eyes on me, let me see that gorgeous face ‘m about to p-paint, fuck.”

nanami’s blushing tip reddens, and once he finally cums—it’s so much. it shoots out in stringy milky ropes, velvety and all.

it paints right onto your flat tongue and your eyes snap shut for two seconds at the bittersweet taste. your lips felt tepid, still having your mouth wrap around his cock as his dick now becomes soft and flaccid. “god,” he whines, multiple metallic fingers of his delving in your scalp.

nanami’s so pretty after he finishes, he’s got somewhat of a feverish glow to him and you see his veins pop out through each of his bulky muscles. it shows right through his shirt he wore, which was close enough to being see through.

“take it, swallow it f’ me sweetheart,” and he cups your chin, removing his dick from your dampened lips. his eyes were just as droopy as yours and he’s heavily panting. “ah, can you do that?”

with your cheeks all puffed up and stored full of cum, you’re completely dimwitted. you give him a nod, swallowing the hot seed before taking a second to breath. nanami doesn’t waste any time and he leans in, pulling you into a kiss. “i want a taste of myself too.” he murmurs breathlessly between kisses. as his head lowers to your level, you moan at the feeling of his lips pressing onto yours. it’s passionate, his tongue intertwines with your own and he then roves the tip of his tongue near the crevice of your mouth. there, he tastes a few remnants of his cum and it makes him groan.

toji’s still plowing into your sopping cunt that’s fully drenching down on him before he quips.

“hn. freaks,” and literally seconds after that, his cockiness fades away because he’s now cumming too. it’s quick, it hits him at full force like a speed of a semi-truck. toji’s ramming his cock up against that sweet spongey texture that’s making you whimper before he finishes himself. the build up was practically non existent. it was just sloppy, the hormone rush drives him insane and now he’s the one that’s short-circuiting. “oh s- shit,” he growls, feeling his dick starting to tighten and shrivel up whilst deeply buried inside of you. your grip was just so wet, it makes him suck his teeth in elation at how dripping wet you were.

from the waist down, he feels numb and his hips start to slow. it’s a buzz that even spreads toward his spine and he gruffs, spanking against your ass. “ngh, pussy’s fuckin’ dangerous,” his voice falters, it’s husky low pitch turning more high. it’s cute, and there’s a faint pout growing on toji’s lips.

nanami looks up at him with a flustered expression. “aw, too much for you toji?”

“shut up,” he groans, still feeling the after effects. toji came a lot too, masses of creamy hot cum fills up inside of you before it spurts toward your womb.

your thighs were on its final hinges as you were still arched and hunched over, desperate to see what you looked like from behind.

you were probably a mess, a mess with cum dribbling out of your fluttering hole. a saturated translucent ring forms around his base as he stops his thrusts completely, preparing to pull out. for once, hes speechless—at least for a few seconds anyway. “fuck me,” he groans, and his cock too, was now flaccid and idle.

your fingers run down towards your puffy clit to feel for yourself and oh, it’s even more stuffed than you even imagined.

sappy runny amounts trickle down your cunt, past your swollen lips and onto the sauna’s floor. you moan, squeezing two fingers inside to toy with yourself some more but that’s right when nanami swiftly grabs your wrist.

“ah, no sweetheart. no touching what’s ours,” he whispers, a thumb softly caressing near your palm. he sees the pout that mangles against your lips and he leans down to kiss your forehead. “i’ll think about letting you touch her after we shower.”

“and who says it’s up to you,” toji rolls his eyes, his voice still a bit shaky. he reaches near the glass cabinet for a dry towel before wrapping it around his slim waist. “i mean, i wouldn’t let her touch herself either but still.”

“but—”

“there there,” nanami shushes you, bringing a soft kiss to your lips. your face softens as you return the gesture, and you then gasp once he toji lifts you up. nanami wraps a towel around his waist also, and toji creeps up beside him. cool air wafts against your skin at the sudden movements as he then opens the glass sauna door. “c’mon, let’s at least shower on it.”

as you’re slung over toji’s broad shoulder, your eyes were met with the floor. all of you walk out of the scene set and toji’s big hand squeezes near your ass. “wonder if she can take us both at the same time.”

“she’s a good girl, i think she can,” nanami kisses your forehead as toji walks with you. “right, princess?”

you still felt hot all over your body, but you nod, wrapping your arms around toji’s neck. “y- yeah,” and your nose buries inside the depths of his collarbone. his strong brawny cologne scent again, you’re hit with it face first from each whiff. “i can take you both.”

“um excuse me? this isn’t in the fucking script!”

nanami and toji both glance at the director who’s got a vein popping out of his forehead. toji snickers and nanami grows sheepish.

“eh. it is now,” toji shrugs, and he gives your ass a teasing smack. “c’mon, doll,” and he snickers, turning his head to whisper to you. “we aren’t finished with ya just yet, heh,” and toji glances at the director, giving your ass a spank as you’re still thrown over his shoulder. “cut.”

[yuutryingtowrite]

Yandere!Stalker who you have been aware of since the beginning. It is difficult not to. He is really clumsy. He made it a habit to come to your room every night, but he always makes a ruckus while trying to get to your bed. One time, he even tripped and face-planted. Poor baby.

Yandere!Stalker who uses his nightly visits to bask in your soothing presence, even if you are just sleeping. He will take anything he can get. He doubts you will let a nobody like him approach you during the day anyways. When he is feeling bold, he sometimes traces your facial features. You are just the prettiest to him. That is why he also has a whole folder with pictures of you taken when you were unaware.

Yandere!Stalker who, one day, has enough courage to go under the blanket with you. He waits a bit to be sure you are still sleeping before scooting closer to you. His chest is against your back; you can feel his heart beating like crazy. He then shyly wraps his arm around your waist and nuzzles into your neck. A light pink hue dusts his cheeks. Being this close to you…He is so happy he could die right now.

Yandere!Stalker who you suddenly pin to your bed. That is it. You can’t take his cuteness anymore. It is your turn to have fun now. You watch him try to get out what looks like to be an explanation between his stutters. He keeps squirming, his hands can’t stop fidgeting and his wide, puppy-like eyes look at you with a mix of horror, from being caught, and excitement and adoration, from being underneath you.

Yandere!Stalker who you tell to wait on your bed as you make your way to the closet. A few seconds later, you toss him a…maid costume. And then a… bunny costume. And then…a skirt with cute bows. And then…You seem to spawn out of nowhere the most skimpy and feminine outfits known to mankind for him to wear (you bought them just for this eventuality).

Yandere!Stalker who has tears in his eyes as you tell him to pose. His right hand is doing a shaky peace sign while his left hand is holding the tiny skirt down. His face is beet red and he feels hot everywhere. He loves this. He is so vulnerable right now, yet he only wants to show you more. Please, humiliate him more. Pin him down again. Toss him around. Step on him. Use him as you wish. Make him yours. He will be your toy, your boyfriend, your lover. Yours to break and yours to put back together again.

“Say cheese~” *click*

[the-dendrophile-bookdragon]

Perfect Size

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: reader is described as short, name-calling, swearing, Daemon being a horny menace, soft!dom! Daemon, talk of impregnation, talk of pregnancy, pregnancy, smut

Summary: It was Daemon’s life mission to remind you of your size difference, in every aspect of your shared lives.

A/N: This is part of the wonderful @targaryen-dynasty 3K celebration, congrats by the way!!!! I had so much fun with this prompt. Enjoy everyone and enjoy the other wonderful and talented writers' fics. 3K Celebration Masterlist

My masterlist

The gods make humans in their image. They make them grow until they see them as perfect. Or so your Septa used to say whenever you were frustrated about your small stature. And it was no help that the greatest rake of the realm, Lord Flea Bottom, the Rouge Prince himself, made it his life’s mission to remind you of how small you were.

As children, you had been a bit taller than him. He had a problem with it. The need to be bigger than a stupid girl was great. His growth spurt came and he nearly towered over you, looking down at you with a smirk on his lips. “How is the weather down there?” He would often tease. “Just fine.” You would retort back. “I hope your small brain will get enough air up there. A shame if you lost more of it.” Was your sarcastic comeback.

The older the two of you got, the taller he would get and you would only grow a few inches if you even grew at all. First, he was slightly lanky. His muscles had yet to grow. He would remind you of a newborn horse whenever he would stumble over his two long feet as he trained with his sword. Often giggling to his dismay.

“I will cut your head off, and then you will be smaller!” He would shout in anger when he saw you snickering. Daemon’s temper seemed to grow with every inch he gained. You enjoyed it immensely when it would rise because of you.

As young adults, it was fairly certain that you would grow no more. If you stood behind one of the large dinner chairs you could easily hide behind them. Everything seemed to dwarf you.

Daemon prided himself in the knowledge that he was taller than you. Towering over you like the Hightower in Oldtown. And he never passed down the opportunity to remind you. “Shouldn’t you be with your nurse, little one? I think you got the wrong room. The nursery is that way.” Or other things.

You would glare at him. Often kicked his shin when no one was watching. He would yowl in pain. Jump around and hold his leg. “You little pest.” “Maybe you should get your head out of the clouds.” You teased back.

But there were the times he would call you more affectionate words associated with your small stature.

“Why the sour face, my little love?” He mumbled into your ear as he stepped out of the shadows. He had been hiding from his grandmother and her attempts to put boring and plain noblewoman under his nose.

A huff of annoyance escaped your throat. “Mother forced me to wear this ridiculous gown.” You seethed. Your teeth bared like a wolf snarling.

Daemon found your discomfort rather amusing. You looked like a pretty doll all dressed up. Your hair braided into the style of the land you came from. The gown so unmistakably the colours of your house, shining in the light of the candles.

"Oh, no - you're a lady and you have to wear pretty dresses and jewels and oh no, how horrible!" He teased you lightly. He leaned his head on top of yours. A habit he adopted quite recently. Loving the way you fit under him.

You snorted, very un-ladylike. But he was used to your characteristics. You were not one of those up-tied, boring wenches who tried to turn his head. He would rather gauge his eyes out before he gave them a second of his attention.

His attention was only worthy of one woman. And she was right literally under his nose.

He leaned down, just next to your ear. His hot breath fanned over the sensitive shell. “Do you think it would fit?” You could feel the smirk in his voice. You turned to him with a confused look on your pretty face.  It stayed that way until you felt something. You felt it, him. Hard as a rock, pocking you through the fabric of your wedding gown.

Your face grew hotter than the flames of Caraxes. Your body stiffened as you felt him softly rub against your buttocks. He only laughed lowly. His chest vibrates, sending chills up and down your spine. “You scoundrel!” You lowly scoffed. Your heart beating faster.

Not from his antics. Oh no, you were used to them by now. About the whole banquet finding out about Daemon’s little innuendo. “Oh, little love. I am your scoundrel now. It was ordered by the Queen herself.” He chuckled darkly.

She hit his shoulder lightly. “Stop it!” You tried to reprimand him. But your words fell on deaf ears. “Oh, my little love. How funny you will look with my seed growing inside you.” He began to whisper his lewd words. “You probably won’t be able to walk, so large your belly will grow.”

Your body grew hotter and hotter. It didn’t help that he had you pressed to his chest. His erection pressed against the cheeks of your perfect ass. His hands wander lazily over the front of your dress. Stopping over your belly before wandering further down.

“Oh my little love, will it even fit in your little tight hole? Or will I have to mould your little cunny so only my cock can fit inside?” Your breathing hitched at his dark, lustful words. Daemon’s predatory smile grew at your body's reaction to his scandalous words whispered so softly into your ear.

He often wondered if he was unfair to his wife. She was small, her body had nearly strained from the weight of the beautiful two children she had already given him.

He was right at their wedding feast. Her swollen stomach looked too large for her body. It hadn’t been long before the first signs of pregnancy made themselves known.

From the small bump only three moons after they conceived. He still can remember how his hands could cover it until she was seven moons pregnant. She had been ordered to rest. To not exhaust herself too much.

Daemon, looking at the image of her laying in their bed, their little one nestled in her belly. The sight did things to him. Things where his darkest desires seemed light in comparison. Oh, how he had spent his days behind her, driving himself into her tight cunt instead of sitting in a boring small council meeting. His wife and unborn child needed him, and he needed them.

“Another one?” You looked at him from where you stood. Children’s toys in your arms as you helped your daughters clean the room for the day.

Daemon just shrugged. “Why not? Add another one to our hoard. What about you girls? Do you want another sibling?” He crouched down so he was level with Alyssa and Visenya. Both girls looked away from their task to clean up the solar, screeching with joy as their father spoke to them.

“They are tots, Daemon.” You protested. Picking up more of the girls’ toys. “They will agree to anything if you say it with enough enthusiasm.” Daemon chuckled. “Oh, I think they know what I am saying, elillus (honey).” He smirks softly. His eyes roamed her body without shame.

“It has been so long.” “It has only been a few hours. You had me in the morrow.” You snapped back. Cleaning your daughters’ toys from the floor. Putting it into the chest designated for their toys. “I did not mean our coupling, prūmȳs ñuhus (my heart). I meant another child. The girls are six and four.” He mumbled gently.

She looked up at him sitting in the armchair at the edge of the carpet where the girls were playing moments ago. His violet eyes were dark as he watched her like the hunter his prey. “I don’t know, valzȳrys (husband). You heard the maester's words after Visenya’s birth.”

Daemon saw the change in demeanour. He nearly had you, only a small push. “It is your choice, ābrāzȳrys (wife). I do not want to force you.” He stood up, kissing your forehead before helping you with cleaning the toys up.

You were tossing and turning in bed. Nothing seemed right. Thoughts swirled through your head. So many voices at once.

You wanted to scream. But you would only wake up your family.

“Tell me what is keeping you from sleep, ābrāzȳrys (wife)” Daemon's gravel voice rang through the room. He sounded tired. His back turned to you.

“It’s nothing.” You whispered. “Bullshit!” Daemon groaned. Turning to face you. “It feels like I am sleeping next to a bloody sack of kittens. What is it.” He tiredly glared at her. Knowing full well what was going on.

“You’ve gotten into my head, you menace!” You growled out. Pouting at him. His usual smirk grew on his lips, a soft chuckle escaping. “Apologies for that, ābrāzȳrys (wife).“ „You are not sorry, Daemon.” His grin widened more. “You know me so well.”

A huff escaped your lips. “Why must you torment me so?” Daemon sat up on his forearm, looking down at you. Your hair was splayed out in a messy halo. A bright smile adorned his face as he saw the light, tired glare and the pout on your lips.

“Oh, little love, I vowed to be the bane of your existence since we played with the small dragon figurines our daughters’ play with now. And ever since it was announced you would be my dear lady wife I swore to torture you even more.” He softly nipped at your collarbone, his large hands coming to rest on your rips, just under your breasts.

“Let me help you with your decision-making. Let me enter your little cunny and stay there when I cum. Let my seed fill your womb once more.” His imposing frame loomed over you. Covering you like a blanket.

“What if the maester is right?” “The maesters are cunts who want to see me unhappy and you in doubt. They told you after Alyssa you could not carry another child. Two years later they said the same after Visenya.” He kissed your shoulder gently before his expressive violet eyes stared at you. “What is your body telling you?”

You bit your lip gently, A small rumble going through Daemon’s chest at your gesture. But he restrained himself. “I want another one.” You whispered gently.

A smile broke greater than before out on his lips, his dimples showing. “I will not let anything happen to you. The moment your body is resisting, I will get you moon tea or whatever is necessary.” You nodded gently.

His eyes darkened with lust. “Now before we can even discuss the pregnancy, we must make it happen.”

He lifted himself so his arms were on either side of your head. “Oh my sweet, I longed to fill up your little cunny. Seeing it overflow with my seed. Stuffing it back in.” He laughed gently as you shuddered.

With haste born of his pent-up desire, he ripped all of your clothes off your and his body. You gasped softly, scolding him for literally ripping your nightgown. “I never liked it anyway.” He mumbled against the skin between your breasts. Slowly moving down to your stomach.

He worshipped your body, caressing your thighs and hips. Squeezing the flesh around them, even gently nibbling on it.

He kissed each and every lightning-bold-like scar. Mumbling with every kiss a small thanks. These were the marks of his children. Evidence of your brave sacrifice.

He went further down. His lips ghosted over the soft locks, his eyes watching you heave out breaths of anticipation.

A loud scream ripped from your throat when you felt his tongue plunge deeply into your wet core. The eagerness of his lapping overwhelmed your senses. His nose ever so lightly brushed against your pearl. Teasing it to shoot lightning throughout your body.

You came undone. His tongue, nose and two of his digits working in tandem to torture you. And it worked. Your back arched off the bed. Loud cries of his name and pleas for him to stop accompanied your downward spiral into the abyss of your pleasure.

He stared down at you hungrily. His vibrant eyes were dark with lust. He looked every bit the dragon he ought to be. “Little rabbit.” He growled out. “Sweet, little rabbit. Trapped beneath the large dragon.”

He leaned down again. Like Caraxes would decent upon his pray, Daemon came down upon you. Devouring you once more.

He held your thighs wide open as he ploughed into you. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin rang through the room. His large hand wrapped around your delicate neck, softly pressing against it. Your breathing coming out in small pants.

“You should see yourself, little darling. My large hand is like a necklace on your throat. I can nearly wrap it around.” He chuckled darkly.

His words elicited shivers to run up and down your spine. This action causes your body to tense slightly. Daemon roared as he felt you squeeze his cock. “Seven fucking hells, woman! Do you want to kill me?!” He panted out. Driving his cock deeper inside you. The stretch is a familiar pain. But not too unpleasant. He had prepared you for him. And he would hate for you not to enjoy your coupling.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, sensual kiss. It was so different from the way his hips moved. So slow and loving. “I am not hurting you, am I, my little darling?” He whispered. You shook your head. “Nothing I am not used to from you.” He grinned, nipping at your lower lip, “That’s my good girl.” He whispered.

He picked up his pace. His hands on your thighs clawing into your skin. His knuckles are white. He groaned and grunted, looking down at you with an intense stare. Your own moans and cries mingle with his. Creating a symphony of pleasure.

He came with a roar of your name, his face buried into your neck. Panting heavily next to your ear. Your own climax is triggered by the feeling of being filled with his potent seed. Both your eyes closed in bliss.

He stayed inside you even as his member softened inside you. The grip on your thigh remains tight. Like he needed to be grounded by you.

Your arms wrapped tighter around his neck, softly caressing his head. He hummed gently, letting you know he loved what you were doing. “Do not dare to stop.” He mumbled gently into your neck. You continued with your caress. Softly petting him like he was a dog.

He fell asleep like this. His spent cock inside you, keeping his precious seed inside you. His body acted like a blanket. Your hand in his hair.

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[alexiroflife]

how jjk men would react if they found out you sh…

Warning(s): cw//self harm, graphic depictions, mentions of depression, anxiety, sensitive content, angst/comfort

-> if you or anyone you know is struggling with self-harm, suicidal thoughts, depression, etc., know that you aren’t alone. as someone who used to struggle with these things myself, i understand how difficult it can be, but know that you are strong and you are loved. and thank you for the ask, this is a very important topic and i appreciate the vulnerability of the request. sending all the possible love in the world to all of you.

gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna

satoru gojo: satoru has an incredible sense of sight, thanks to his gift of the six eyes, as well as very keen observation skills. he picks up on little habits you harbor very quickly during the beginning of your relationship. you always choose to wear long-sleeved clothing, even when it’s warm, and you tug at your sleeves as though you are desperately trying to conceal a certain part of yourself from the outside world, from him. he doesn’t understand why at first. the thought crosses his mind that you just aren’t comfortable in sleeveless clothing, but you’ve shown him pictures of yourself from a decade ago when you’d wear variations of different tank tops, short sleeves, and more. he doesn’t understand what changed somewhere along the line. perhaps your sense of style has shifted? maybe you don't like your arms? (he can't understand how because he finds them to be the most gorgeous arms he's ever seen).

but no, something is nagging at him in the back of his head, churning the contents of his gut as though there is something he needs to know, to see that you were hiding, and when the moment unveiled itself, he instantly saw. 

you’re in your kitchen while satoru watches you from the other side of the island, leaning over and gazing at your movements with a soft smile. his blue eyes scattered across your body, admiring you while simultaneously searching for any clue, any answer to his hovering questions.

“where’d i put the containers,” you murmur to yourself in the midst of making lunch for the week, moving about your space rather slowly. 

satoru offers his own help, pointing a slender finger over to the space above your head. “did you check that cabinet?” he asks.

you turn over your shoulder and quirk your brow. “oh, do you live here now? suddenly know where everything is?” you ask playfully, a small smile rising to your lips as satoru chuckles. 

“not yet,” he winks. “but i sure am working on it, though. you know i have to make myself familiar with the space in case we share it someday.”

“is that so?”

“or, of that doesn't work out you could always live with me. i’d love to have you.”

“we’ve been together for three weeks, satoru.”

“yeah, but what does that matter when it comes to loveeee,” he pouts and you giggle, shaking your head as you turn back to reach for the cabinet. you stand on your tiptoes and reach out, sleeve of your sweet draping down to your elbow.

satoru is quick to his feet to help you, though you’re more than capable, when he catches the sight of what looks like a scar streaking over the inside of your wrist. his face falls and his brows angle, marching over to you quickly with a look of urgency on his face.

you don’t register how fast he is moving until you feel him behind you. you turn and look up, caught off guard by the way his eyes had hardened and his pupils shrank. your hand stalls on the cabinet handle, the scars on your arm completely slipping your mind momentarily.

“satoru? you okay?”

he doesn’t answer, grasping your wrist in his hand gently and pulling it down from above you. your eyes flicker up to the movement, and when you realize what is happening, your heart sinks. your eyes go wide and you try to tug your arm away, but satoru’s grip tightens slightly, extending your arm by your wrist to display the inside of your forearm before him. 

he thinks his vision is blurring over, his heart ringing in his ears, his breaths quickening as his eyes detail over the row of rigid scars lining from your inner elbow up to your wrist. his world collapses around him, lips stretching into a disbelieving grimace as his wild eyes survey the damage. some of those scars look newer than others, scabbing over with specs of purple, while the others are far older. 

you panic, trying to tug away again, but satoru’s grip on you is too secure. a lump forms in your throat as you search for things to say, anything to say that could take your boyfriend’s attention away, that could excuse the sight before him as something else. “s-satoru, wait-” you stammer, your voice weaker than you had intended it to be. 

satoru looks like he can’t hear you, nose flaring as he stares, and stares, and stares, and suddenly, your vulnerability is bare naked before him, on display for him to judge, to belittle, to curl his brows at and determine as pathetic and weak. you can feel yourself about to cry already, shaken by this sudden attention.

“satoru,” you whisper, arm trembling within his grasp.

“what is this?” he breathes out so quietly, his voice betraying himself and hardly reaching over a brush through the wind. when you do not answer, those pained eyes are on you, tormented by the sight he has just witnessed. “(y/n), what is this?”

you feel small, avoiding his eyes and looking all over the floor. “i- it’s nothing,” you murmur.

“nothing?” he repeats, as though he has been burned by your response. the white haired man quickly seeks out your other wrist, reaching down to your other side as you try to turn away, but he, of course, manages to seize it and extend it like your other arm and roll up that sleeve. the same row of scars litter your beautiful skin.

satoru’s a mess, frightened, confused, devastated. this is what you had been hiding from him all this time? “this isn’t fucking nothing, (y/n), they’re all over you! what did you do?”

you still can’t respond, you can’t muster up an excuse, you can’t do anything. satoru’s concern is far too overbearing, his gaze too intense, and his hold on you too secure. it feels like he has you laid out on a slab before him, stripped of your clothes as he examines your body with contempt.

he’s disgusted. he’s ashamed, you think. 

amid his grief, he catches the terrified look in your eye, your lips tugged downward as if to prevent yourself from crying. you look so scared.

how could he have not seen this sooner, that you’re hurting? that you’re hurting yourself? 

“baby, what did you do?” he repeats, softer this time as he leans down to look at you, your body trembling in his hold. his thumbs graze your inflamed skin, hesitant to touch you for fear that you may break.

“please don’t,” you breathe out in a huff, voice wobbling as you scrunch your eyes closed. “please, don’t look. just forget you saw it, please.”

“forget i-?” satoru has to stop himself from lashing out poorly, from allowing his emotions to overcome him in what he understands is clearly your moment of need. “how could you ask me to do something like that? (y/n), your arms, baby!”

“satoru, please-” you shake your head. you want to shrink away, to hide, to vanish into thin air. “i don’t wanna talk about it. please.”

“(y/n),” he exhales, closing his eyes to gather himself. “(y/n),” he repeats softly, hands releasing your wrists slowly and sliding up your arms to delicately hold your shoulders. “we can’t not talk about this. you have to tell me what’s been going on. you have to, baby, you have to understand how scared I am right now. help me understand. let me help you, let me take on whatever burden you’re carrying, please, I’ll do anything as long as it means you’re not hurting yourself.”

his hands move to your neck, cupping over the skin as he ducks his head down to look at you more clearly. 

“i can’t stand the thought that you’ve been- and i haven’t-” satoru was stumbling now, throat straining as the urge to cry rose. “why didn’t you come to me? i’m right here for you, (y/n), i always have been. why didn’t you tell me?”

“...it’s embarrassing,” you manage to say, your voice fragile, on the verge of breaking. you can feel your boyfriend’s eyes peering into you even with your own eyes closed. “didn’t want you to see… I didn’t wanna be a burden.”

satoru’s heart is breaking for you, hurt that you could even think of yourself as a burden to him. “have i- have i done or said anything to you to make you feel that way?” he asks genuinely, and you cringe, turning your head to the side to open your eyes.

“no, of course not.”

“then why would you think that, baby?”

you shrug helplessly, tears welling into your eyes. satoru sees you, all of you, his heart thrumming to capture the pain you feel and to lift it from your chest, to help you breathe even just a little bit. he releases a weighted sigh, one of sadness, of love, of heartache for you, and he’s pulling you into him as your arms dangle limply at your sides. 

you scrunch your eyes and immediately break down into him, sobbing into his shirt as his warm hands wash over your frame and cradle your head to him, the muscles in his face tight with anguish. he holds onto you like he’s horrified that you will fade away within his arms. 

“i’m just so tired, toru,” you cry into his chest, dampening the fabric of his shirt. “i’m sorry.”

satoru doesn’t respond, afraid that if he speaks, he’ll end up crying too. you’re his girl, his beautiful, loving girl, and the fact that you have done such harm to yourself is incomprehensible to him. if you love him so, how can you hate yourself enough to have done this?

“how long?” is all he can ask you, breath heaving into your hair and ear. you hesitate, for he already seems so wounded by his discovery. “tell me.”

“...two years…”

he’s crushed. how did he not see sooner? how could he have been so blind after having bragged about being able to see everything so clearly? how could he have left you like this?

he holds you tighter, digging his head into the crook of your neck and hunching over, your eyes now seeing over the curve of his broad shoulder. 

“i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes to you in turn, fingers curling into your hair as he holds your scalp. “i'm sorry I wasn’t paying attention.”

you’re confused as to why he’s apologizing to you since the entire thing is your fault. satoru has a tendency to take on your emotions, piling them onto his own weight of carrying the title of the strongest. you never understood why he did so naturally and willingly, and why even now as you stood limply in his arms, he’s crying for the things you did to yourself.

he pulls away with shiny red eyes, gazing down into your shiny red eyes and tear stained cheeks. you’re so beautiful, he thinks. he hates that such beauty has been suffering in so much silence.

“(y/n), I love you more than anything in this goddamn world. please don’t- don’t keep doing this to yourself. if you’re hurting, come to me. hurt me if you have to lash out, but don’t hurt yourself beautiful.”

“i would never even think of hurting you, satoru.”

“then don’t think of doing it to yourself,” he says firmly, and you press your lips together. 

“…i-i don’t know how to… to stop,” you mumble, and he’s taking your hands in his and kissing them gently.

“i’ll help you. we can get you help, baby, I promise. just promise me, please,” he begs you, holding your hands close to his heart. “you come to me when you feel like doing that, okay? you come to me. and I’ll do whatever I can. let me help you. let me be there for you. i won’t let you push me out, (y/n).”

you're crying again, tears streaking over your face as satoru’s love captures you within his words, within his warmth as he forces you to understand that you are not alone, and never will be. 

satoru kisses your hands again. his lips reach your cheek, and his hand comes to tuck your head into his shoulder again, holding you and telling you that you have him to go to when your world grows dark.

geto suguru: if suguru could sum you up into one word, he would say that you're his universe.

everything in his life he does for the sake of you and his girls, for the sake of keeping you safe and making you happy. your happiness and your comfortability are the only things that suguru prioritizes above all else, making them his very goal to serve each and every day.

suguru's not the most stable, you know that and he knows that himself. he has his off days, where he falls quiet and the world around him numbs itself and the noise becomes a muffle in his ears until you step into view, giving him a smile and wrapping his big frame up in your small arms, your voice whispering to him and breaking through the fog. you're his sanctuary. you're his safe place, and he loves you so much. he owes his entire life to you, therefore ensuring that you feel just as loved as you make him feel is very important to him.

so when he catches sight of the scars on your stomach one day by accident, when you lift up mimiko to sit on your shoulder as nanako jumps up for you to pick her up to, and her shoe kicks up your shirt from your waist momentarily, suguru freezes.

are you hurt? did someone do this to you? did you do this to yourself?

countless thoughts are racing through suguru's mind as he stares at you in a daze, watching you laugh so joyfully along with the girls as though no trouble plagues you.

but there is. you've just been hiding it. hiding it far too well.

his mind is elsewhere for the rest of the day, unsure of if he had been imagining things or not. he knows you so well, or at least he thinks he does. how have you been hiding those marks littering your lower abdomen? how had he missed them?

he thinks back to the moments you two were intimate and recalls that you never wanted to remove the tanktop you wore or let him kiss further than your ribs. he recalls the days you all went to the beach and you kept a white shirt over your swimsuit or elected to wear a onepiece. he recalls how quickly you change when he's with you, your back turned to him as you rush to throw something on over your upper body.

the signs... they're all there. you've been hiding yourself from him, but why? what have you been doing? have you truly been harming yourself, or is that thought a trick of suguru's worst fears?

he tries to keep himself calm around you and the girls for the remainder of the day until they are put to sleep and the two of you are alone again.

you sit on the edge of your shared bed, rubbing lotion over your arms with your back facing suguru again. he watches you carefully, back resting against the headboards and hazel eyes trained on your figure as though you aren't real.

he waits for the proper moment, waiting for you to crawl up and curl under his side, his arm subconsciously wrapping over your waist as your head lays on his chest. he stares at the ceiling for a moment, thinking as weighty silence overcomes you, then he's cautiously speaking.

"(y/n)?"

the soft call of your name brings your head up to peer at him curiously, blinking innocently. he turns down to look at your face and his heart clenches. while he knows that he knows what he saw, he doesn't want to believe it. he doesn't want to think that you, such a selfless and caring person for him, would hurt yourself.

you hum up at him, wondering what he has called you for. you see the pensive look in his face, the subtle knit in his brow as he stares at you, gears in his head turning. "yeah sugu?" you say gently.

he doesn't want to ask, but he has to. he doesn't want the confirmation, but he needs to know.

"i want to ask you a question..." he says, and you grow slightly befuddled.

"...okay?" you start. "is it serious?"

"yeah, it is," he admits, and you suddenly grow nervous, immediately catching an idea of what this could be about. you don't like the look on his face, the way he appears so serious.

"...alright," you mumble, suddenly meek.

the black haired man stares for a few more moments, just looking at you, taking in your the features he feel so deeply in love with, the features that bring him comfort and peace. "i saw something earlier, when you were holding mimiko," he begins softly, thumb caressing your back to ease you into the conversation.

you feel your heart jolt anxiously, trying to keep a straight face so as to not give your nerves away, but knowing suguru, he could likely already tell that you're getting antsy.

you lift your head to look at him, hand resting over his chest, and his eyes follow you smoothly. his eyes are focused, lips in a firm line.

"your shirt lifted, and i saw your stomach. i saw some marks. a lot of them, actually," he says, and you still completely, like a deer caught in headlights. his hand presses gently into your back, trying to keep you present with him as his concerns grow worse when he sees you stiffen against him. he frowns, denial still taking hold of him. "(y/n), please tell me those aren't what i think they are," he sighs heavily.

you feel caught.

you knew that suguru would find out at some point or another, but that didn't make this moment any less horrifying for you. it's so quiet in your room, so isolating, no background noise of the girls giggling or the distant buzz of the tv to help weaken the intensity of this point in time. you feel like a spotlight is shining overhead, an audience awaiting eagerly for you to reveal your secrets to the crowd.

suguru sits up slightly, his calmness gradually shifting into terrified incredulity. your eyes are on his face but your gaze is elsewhere, far off. you look uncomfortable, stuck, and no explanation hits suguru's ears.

"(y/n)," he says your name again, looking desperately down at you. "tell me i'm wrong."

you wish you could, you really do, but you can't lie to suguru. he knows you too well, he loves you too much, and to lie to him would be like denying his understanding of who you are.

you feel your skin flush with shame and anxiety, heartbeat likely loud enough for your boyfriend to hear.

you worry. you worry about your boyfriend's judgment, for his reaction. is he going to be angry with you?

"hey," he snaps you out of your daze with the drag of your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes as he stares at you helplessly. you look at him and frown, ashamed that you are the reason he looks so pained. "what's going on?"

the question comes out so delicately, it makes your heart break. a whisp of understanding blends into his tone with empathy, yet a crushing sense of sadness and guilt that overpowers the aforementioned emotions. you struggle to look him in his kind eyes, dreading his consolation that you feel you don't deserve.

"talk to me, (y/n)."

you chew angrily on the inside of your lip, looking down at your finger as you pick at his shirt. he watches your brows furl, an array of different feelings capturing your features. "i was gonna tell you about it..." you murmur, and suguru is floored.

"what?" he breathes out as though he has no more air. you wince, lowering your head. "you-" he pauses, mind jumping from one place to another. "you did that to yourself?"

"i'm sorry, i-" you can feel your throat growing tight. "i've been trying to-"

"to stop?" he tries to finish for you, grasping for any kind of explanation. he's devastated, not only because you've been harming yourself, but because you've been so busy looking after him and the girls that he hasn't noticed. you're the one who always comforts him, but while you've been doing that, you've been aching on the inside and trying to hide it.

you nod meekly when he concludes for you. "i just- i thought the feelings would go away, so i didn't say anything, but they're just getting worse and i don't know what to do anymore and i only feel better after i..."

"(y/n)," he stops you gently, his heart shattering upon listening to you ramble, spilling out the things you have been holding onto for what he assumes to have been so long. "you've been dealing with this all this time?"

"...it's on and off," you confess. "some days are better than others, but..."

suguru finds your words familiar, for he often finds himself in the exact same mindset; feeling functional and confident some days, and others, not so much, but you're the reason why he's able to handle his bad days, yet he hasn't been the same for you for as long as the two of you have been together.

he feels almost sick. he loves you to death. you're his everything, but you've been in pain, and he hasn't seen it.

the way he's looking at you now makes you feel guilty, remorseful, embarrassed. you know you should have told him, but you could never find the strength to. you had always been too scared. and the longer you self-harm, the less you are willing to admit to yourself and to your boyfriend that you have a problem.

you're shocked, though, when suguru's hands tighten over you and his face grows bitter, not with you but with himself. "how could i have been so stupid?" he grumbles, distraught. "and so selfish? all this time, you-"

"no, suguru, please, it's not your fault," you try to tell him.

"i should have seen, baby, i should have noticed something sooner. and all this time, instead you've been looking after me when i should have been looking after you."

"don't say that, suguru," you shift, looking sadly into his eyes. "it's my fault. i'm the one who did this, i'm the one who's to blame. i'm the stupid and selfish one, not you."

suguru's frown deepens, sad eyes looking over your face. you blame and belittle yourself just as easily as suguru does, and he can't stand it. he can't stand to see you like this, to be so aware of hurt before him. he wants, no, he needs to take all that pain away from you. he needs to exorcize it, rid your body of it, cast it away so that you can be happy from now until the rest of time. he needs you to be okay.

"i swear on my life, (y/n)," he begins firmly, eyes boring straight into yours, holding your cheek. "i will do everything in my power to get you through this. whatever it takes, no matter how long it takes, i will be here for you. you're not alone, you understand? you don't need to pretend for me. the girls love you- god i love you so fucking much, and i can't stomach to think of the times you've suffered in silence for my sake. i'm no good if you're no good, baby. i need to know these things, i need to be able to help you."

your nose twitches and your jaw clenches as you look into him, breathing growing unstable. suguru has always been so generous and so loving. he has a way with his words and how safe they make you feel even during your worst moments.

"but what if i can't do it, sugu?" you whisper, his thumb catching the tear that leaks from the corner of your eye. "what if i'm not strong enough to get better?"

"you are strong enough," he affirms confidently. "more than strong enough. and when you feel weak, lean on me. but you have to promise me something."

you nod slowly, mutely, keeping his gaze as he stares at you lovingly, wistfully.

"promise me you won't do it," his words come out as a quick, hasty breath. his brows curl further upward, his desperation plain on his pretty face. "promise me you'll let me know as soon as you want to, but don't hurt yourself again, (y/n). don't do it. i'm begging you. you don't deserve that pain."

though you are unsure if you can even make that promise to yourself, you force yourself to try. for suguru's sake. "okay," you mumble, and he sighs, kissing you softly and pulling you to his chest to whisper sweet nothings as his hands soothe over your stomach and your back.

nanami kento: you twist your fingers around each other as you sit in the living room while kento cooks in the kitchen. you're nervous, more nervous than you have been about anything in your entire life, but you know that you need to rip off this bandaid to approach your boyfriend about such a serious matter.

recently, you find yourself returning to the old habit that you believed to have been relinquished. you thought that you had gotten better, that the urge to self harm had completely gone away after having spent so much time in therapy trying to heal, but recently, you've been feeling down again, useless, angry with yourself. you didn't want to tell nanami at first because you didn't think that your current mood would go beyond feeling depressed, but now that you've started scratching away at your thighs and your arms again, you know that you need to let him know what's going on. you know that you can't go on like this anymore.

but you have no idea what to say.

nanami has been nothing but doting toward you, bringing you flowers every morning, making your meals, ensuring that you remember to schedule doctor's appointments or to keep yourself warm when it's cold out- the man's life revolves around your comfortability, and while you know he would be far more offended if you keep this to yourself, you're horrified to see his reaction when you tell him that you relapsed.

nanami is well aware of your past difficulties with your mental health, and he always tells you that if you are ever in a dark space again, he needs to know. even so, he hasn't been with you when you're like this. the two of you got together after the multiple therapy visits that helped you to shift mindsets, so now that you feel this way again, and while in a relationship with nanami no less, you feel petrified.

you don't even notice when he rounds the kitchen counter to make his way over to the dining table, setting down two plates of food. he looks over and catches the way you stare ahead blankly, lost in thought. you've been doing a lot of that lately and he wonders if something is wrong.

nevertheless, he knows that if something is bothering you, you'll tell him. "sweetheart, dinner's ready," he calls out, and you snap your head over to him, his voice bringing you out of your daze.

you stand wordlessly, movements somewhat robotic, as you slowly make your way over to the table. "thanks, ken," you say softly, lacking your usual energy, and at this point, your partner knows for certain that something is off.

he watches you carefully as you sit down, pushing in your seat for you and pecking your forehead before sitting down next to you. "tell me how your day was," he starts, brushing off his hands and reaching one out to rest one on your knee as he always did at the table. he's prying, you can tell, trying to learn if something that happened throughout the day affected your mood.

your heart is hammering loudly, your eyes stuck to the plate and unable to look up at him. "it was okay," you respond.

"just okay?" he questions and you nod slowly. "did something happen?"

you flicker your eyes up to his brown ones suddenly, caught off guard by the question. he sees the questioning in your eyes and replies accordingly.

"you seem to be a little off, this evening, that's all."

you hum, unsure of how to respond to his observation. you look away again, contemplating. just say it, you think. just tell him, just get it over with.

as you struggle against yourself, nanami only grows more concerned. you don't confirm or deny his comment, and the way you turn away has him wondering if he's done something to hurt you.

"did i do something wrong, darling?" he asks.

you furrow your brows and quickly shut down the idea. "no, no. not at all, ken. it's nothing you did."

"then... there is something troubling you?"

you stall a bit more now that you're on the spot, cursing the fact that kento is always so quick to pick up on the smallest changes in your demeanor.

"(y/n)?" he calls you when you don't answer.

"i have to tell you something," you say abruptly. you see nanami's brows raise ever so slightly, soft brown eyes looking over your face in an attempt to read the situation before you tell him anything. "it's... a lot. so i need you to just... bear with me. and please don't be mad."

nanami's brow twitches slightly as he looks at you, head tilting. he grabs the bottom of his chair and shuffles it closer to you, leaning over slightly and running his hand over where it resides on your knee.

"i could never be mad at you," he tells you earnestly, as though it's the most honest thing he's said in the world. "what's the matter, my love?"

god, he's so sweet to you it makes you physically ill that you have to break this news to him.

"...do you remember when we talked about... um..." your voice fades off, nanami's concentrated gaze only making you more nervous for what his reaction will be.

"take your time," he encourages you, and you only feel worse.

you return to chewing on the inside of your lip anxiously, picking at your shirt under the table. the blonde man beside you is ever so patient, allowing you to gather your thoughts before you verbalize them.

"...um...it's.... about what we talked about a while ago..."

"...and that would be regarding?"

"my... past."

nanami furrows his brows, still not quite understanding. "i apologize, honey, what about your past?"

just rip the bandaid. just rip the bandaid.

"my past with self-harming," you rush out, and the weighty silence that follows is enough to make you want to sink into the floor and let it swallow you whole.

you can feel his eyes burning into you, processing what you just told him, and all you can hear is the pound of your heart in your ears as his hand stills upon your knee.

nanami, on the other hand, is completely shocked by your revelation. while he understands that your relapsing has always been a very realistic possibility, he never wanted to entertain the idea that it could very much so happen- at least, not while he's around.

a sense of fear grips him. are you going to tell him that you relapsed? have you already hurt yourself? has he failed to be there when it happened??

"did you-" he doesn't know what he wants to ask, or how. he hates that he is already jumping to conclusions, but the way you are structuring this conversation with him only leads him to believe the worst. "what happened?"

your head hangs low and your fingers taut on your shirt, lips tightening as they press together. you can hear the disbelief in his voice already, and it breaks you.

"i relapsed."

the brown-eyed man clenches his jaw, falling completely silent once more to not react in a way that may worsen your state. you feel his hand tighten into a fist over top of your leg as he lowers his head, rubbing his eyes with his fingers and inhaling sharply. you feel like a child who is awaiting punishment as you look at his hunched state, a million questions of what he will do next running through your mind.

you hate to do this to him. nanami already has so much on his plate, you know this is the last thing he needs to be stressing over. you wish you could be okay for him. it's not his fault that your mind takes you to these places, and you don't want him to bear responsibility as though it is his doing. even so, you already know that he will because that's the type of man kento is. that's the type of boyfriend kento is.

you wait a few more moments in unbearable muteness. after what feels like forever, kento lifts his head again and rests his chin on his fist, elbow propped on his knee. he's looking to the side, deep in anguished thought. he no longer looks surprised, but rather guilty and frustrated. "when?" is the first thing he asks.

"yesterday," you answer dejectedly, and he almost jerks, his body twitching in reaction. "...are you mad?"

nanami looks at you and his hardened expression immediately softens into something melancholy. "no- no, of course not, (y/n), no," he shakes his head as if the notion is unfathomable, releasing his fist to cup your knee again more securely. "i will never be angry with you for what you're going through. never. no, i'm not mad."

you nod quickly, a meek sense of relief and sorrow taking over you, a weight heaving from your chest upon letting it out. "okay," you whimper.

"come here, my darling," he coaxes you softly, opening and grabbing your hand from under the table delicately to lead you to stand over him. his hand guides over the small of you're back once you're up, leading you to sit on his lap with your back pressed against the table and your legs dangling over one side of his chair.

he holds your forearms gently, looking up at you with sad, understanding eyes. "are you comfortable showing me?" he murmurs so intimately, easing you into his warm consolation.

you don't nod or answer him verbally. instead, you wordlessly roll up the sleeve of your sweater to reveal angry red scratch lines running up your inner forearm. nanami's lips curl in pain as though he can feel the sting of your scars, holding your arm gently for him to look over it.

the sight kills him, though he tries to keep his cool. this isn't about him, it's about you, but goodness, the image of the scars on your beautiful skin makes him hurt like no other pain he's experienced.

"is this all of it?" he asks you, and you shake your head.

"there's some on my thighs," you mutter, looking down.

he nods. "alright," he sighs. "alright."

"...i know you have so much on your plate already... i just-"

"don't. don't even," he stops you, eyes still roaming over your irritated skin. nanami usually commends himself for remaining collected in times of crisis, but he's desperately fighting a part of him that wants to yell out and cry for the sake of you.

he imagines you struggling with this on your own, long before he came into your life, and the thought makes him cringe to picture just how far this must have gotten. these scratches he is surveying now already look bad enough. were the other ones worse?

"(y/n), you know this isn't okay," he looks up at your face and sees how you are avoiding his eyes. you look so small compared to how you usually carry yourself, and it kills him. "to harm yourself like this... you can't treat yourself this way, darling, you know you can't."

"i know," you mumble. "i just had a moment, and now i'm scared that- that i'll go back to how things were."

"as long as i'm with you, you won't. i promise you that," nanami swears. "it was just this one time since you last?"

you nod. "yeah..."

"okay," he nods once more, convincing himself that this is something he can help stop before it gets any more out of hand. "why'd you do it this time, my love? what were you thinking that led you here? is there something i can do differently? is it work? is it a combination of things?"

"i wish it were that easy to explain, kento," you frown, glancing up at him helplessly. "but it's just... it's just a feeling i can't put into words. i can't pinpoint the source. i just... one minute i felt like i couldn't breathe, and the next i was..."

"okay," he repeats, letting you know that you no longer need to say anything more. you don't have to revisit it. he understands. he will take care of it. he'll help you. "okay, darling. how about this. i call off of work tomorrow and we can sit and talk about seeing a new therapist. then we can go out and do whatever you want. just for fun. does that sound okay with you?"

your nose flares and your lips tug to the side as you nod, truly not comprehending how you managed to find a man so patient with you. "yeah, that's good," you say softly, and nanami is at least relieved that you are willing to take further steps into a better direction.

"good," he whispers, rolling the sleeve of your sweater back down so that you no longer feel exposed or feel like you have to think any more about the things you did to yourself when you felt alone. "it's alright, my love. we'll get through it. you'll get past this just like you did last time," he encourages you, moving to caress your shoulder lovingly as you hold his gaze. "it's okay," he tells you again, and you nod weakly, leaning over to plop your head against his shoulder.

nanami holds you to him and exhales, food completely forgotten. his only priority now is to be there for you in the ways he could not before the two of you met.

"thank you for telling me."

choso kamo: choso worships the ground you walk on because he can not fathom a world without, nor the fact that you happened to stumble into his life on a whim. to imagine you hurt is the very worst thing that the man can think of, and the notion that you would hurt yourself is beyond his comprehension.

you aren't actively trying to hide any of your scars when he finds them. the scars are old, faded reminders of the pain that you used to endure and how you attempted to cope with it. while you are now six months free of self harming, the scars remain very present.

choso happens to catch sight of your scars when you are getting changed. he's sitting at the edge of your bed, face flushed, as he watches you blissfully change out of your pajamas and into clothes that you feel are best suited for a walk to the ice cream shop that choso has proposed. it's a bright sunday afternoon, and the brunette is eager to take advantage of the weather with the woman he holds close to his heart as well as his baby brother, who the two of you intend to meet at the store.

you're now dressed in nothing but a large white shirt and underwear, your legs bare as you strut around the space freely. choso's jade eyes follow you as you walk, completely obsessed with the way you move. he could watch you do the most mundane things for hours, which he truthfully tends to do anyway.

your back is to him before you round the bed, disappearing into the bathroom momentarily before coming back into the living room. choso's eyes still don't leave you, tracing over your face down your figure and finally to the front of your bare legs.

he falters, and his brows draw together when he catches dark marks littering over your inner thighs, only revealing themselves with the movement of your limbs as you walk.

the pale-skinned man grows confused and slightly concerned. he's never seen those marks on you before, and simultaneously, never on anyone else he knows either. he finds them to be a strange form of battle scars, especially due to the placement, the small size, and the sheer number of them. some of them take different shapes too, blurring together or over each other, while some stand out alone. they almost look like burns, but it's hard for choso to really tell.

you proceed about your business, searching through your drawer to pull out a skirt, when choso speaks up.

"love? what are those?" he asks curiously, perplexed.

you turn over your shoulder, shutting your drawer closed with your foot. "hm? what's what, cho?" you ask him, unsure of what he's referring.

choso, still slightly flustered by the vision of your half exposed body, nods his head into the direction of your lower legs. "those," he says again, and you look down, still lost.

you lift your foot momentarily, checking to see if something is stuck under or on top of it. you then survey the rest of your body, searching for something out of the ordinary. "uhhh," you trail off. "i'm not sure what you mean, baby. you're talking about my legs?"

you are far too desensitized to and familiar with the image of your scars to process that choso has never seen them before. the brunette, however, is unsatisfied, wanting an answer that you have yet to provide.

he leans forward, lifting his hand and pointing his finger directly to a patch of dark spots peeking out from your inner thighs. you follow his gaze, eyes landing on the culprits, and your shoulders drop in realization. "oh," you say shortly, choso retracting his hand.

he looks at you innocently, awaiting a response while you try to figure out how to explain this sight to him.

you don't want to worry him, but knowing choso, if you lead with the fact that these scars are there because you inflicted them onto yourself, he would have a heart attack, failing to find reason to your words.

even so, you know choso only wants to understand you as much as you desire to understand him. he wants to see the ugly parts as well as the beautiful parts of you that he is so drawn to, and if you hide it from him, that would only create a rift in your budding relationship that you aren't entirely too keen on creating.

you want him to know you, all of you, and these scars are as much of a part of you as the bones in your body and the blood pumping through your skin.

they're a sign of what you've been through, what you've overcome, and who you are now. they're important, and choso should know why they are there.

"that's a good question," you sigh, putting your skirt on the bed as you move to sit next to him at the edge of it. choso immediately turns to you, glancing over the marks shamelessly now that he has a better view of them.

"did someone do that to you?" is the first thought that crosses his mind, red drifting into his vision at the mere idea that someone has hurt you in such an intimate way.

"...no," you shake your head, lifting one leg up onto the bed, brushing his own, as the other dangles. "i put them there. a while ago," you explain honestly.

choso scrunches his brows tighter, eyes flickering up to your face then back down to try to identify what exactly the marks are. "what are they?" he repeats.

you exhale, puckering your lips as you prepare yourself for this difficult conversation. "they're burns, cho. from a match," you tell him.

now, the half-curse is incredibly confused. burn marks? on your lovely skin? in a place where only you could reach? put there by yourself?

you burned yourself?

"i don't understand," he frowns, shifting to face you better. "why would you..."

"i used to be in a really bad place, baby," you purse your lips, watching as his face contorts with consternation as he comes to understand that you purposefully harmed yourself.

"what do you mean? bad enough to do this to yourself?" he sounds mortified, his voice growing ragged the moment his tone picks up volume.

his pupils, moments ago blown pools of affection, are now shrunken dots of shock.

"don't look at me like that," you beg him, placing your hand over his own. his eyes snap to the sudden contact, then back to you with concern. "sometimes, when certain people are suffering from depression, or anxiety, or just overall bad thoughts and they feel like they have to... break out, or maybe punish themselves in a sense... they resort to hurting themselves."

choso gulps, lump forming in his throat as he listens to you with shaking eyes. "and that's what you did? you felt like you needed to punish yourself?"

"it's hard to explain to someone on the outside. i know it sounds... crazy, but it was the only way i knew how to cope with everything that i was dealing with."

"why didn't you come to me instead?" he immediately asks and you give him a sad, knowing look.

"because, we didn't know each other then, cho?"

"i don't care," he shakes his head, eyes keeping yours. "you should have found me."

the idea brings a hint of a smile to your lips, choso's sweetness warming your heart. "i didn't know who you were, baby, that would have been like begging a stranger for help."

"so?" he scoffs. "i loved you the moment i met you. it wouldn't have made any difference to me.

you sigh again, bringing your other hand to rest over top of your boyfriend's as you smile softly at him in an attempt to get him to calm down.

the panic is still written all over his face as he takes in your smile, the vision somehow only making him sadder. you're so gorgeous, inside and out, and that smile is only scratching the surface of your unending beauty.

to know now that your radiance was once outweighed by the torment in your mind encouraging you to harm yourself... well, it makes choso want to ball his eyes out. it makes him want to confront the physical manifestation of your past traumas and pummel it into the ground, bashing its head in for all the hurt that it has caused you.

"i ended up just fine, cho," you reassure him.

"why didn't you say anything before? were you trying to keep it from me?"

"no, baby, i just didn't think to tell you. i kinda forgot about them," you say, and that comment alone makes choso soften his features slightly.

"you forgot..." he recites your words. "does that mean you're better now?"

you hum in affirmation, smiling warmly. "it's been a while since i've hurt myself or done anything like that. i got through it. i'm okay now, these scars are just a permanent reminder of the past."

his frame sags slightly with relief, brows lifting as he looks over you with a blank expression. "i think i understand," he mumbles, looking back down at the marks. "i'm sorry you ever had to go through any of that."

"it's not your fault. you weren't there."

"i wish i had been. so i could have helped more. i know you said you're better, but maybe if i had been there i could've stopped you from hurting yourself at all."

"i wouldn't put that responsibility onto yourself, cho. it was my responsibility."

"still," his brows arch slightly. "i would have stuck with you every second of every day to make sure that you never had a second alone to do any of it. i wouldn't have let you, and i won't let you now." a thought seems to pop into his head when he finishes his last sentence. "you wouldn't go back to trying to hurt yourself, (y/n), would you?

you exhale. "i mean, i'd like to think i wouldn't, but sometimes these things aren't linear," you admit. "i just know that for now, i'm okay."

"the second you're not, though, you'd tell me?"

"yes. i would."

"you promise?"

"i promise, baby."

"okay," he sighs. "because i don't think i'd be able to function knowing you're upset."

the brown haired man leans over, carefully holding your thigh as he looks over your marks again, no longer flustered by your bare skin but entirely focused on the severity of your burns. you look down at him, hands slipping from his own as he surveys you closely like he's a doctor.

"they don't hurt anymore, do they?"

"nope. just scarred."

choso looks at you for a bit longer in silence before looking back up at you from his hunched state. "can i kiss them?"

you laugh softly, hand falling into his hair at you gaze at him with your heart aglow. "you want to kiss them?"

he nods. "so they can feel loved."

you coo, thumb smoothing over his temple as his eyes swell with adoration right before you. "of course you can."

toji fushiguro: toji is absolutely no stranger to scars. he's a human man with no cursed energy, having had his fair share of close calls on risky jobs that have left him with slashes over his calves, small pierces in his flesh, and cracked callouses. then, of course, there's the scar on his mouth bestowed upon him by his oh-so-loving family, which will be stuck with for the rest of his life.

scars follow toji like moths follow a flame, and he's numb to it. he believes that they are a part of life, both physically and mentally, especially with the kind of life that he leads. whether the wound is a large one or a small one he can barely see, he accepts scars as a part of who he is-

who he is.

while toji likes to parade around with a hardened exterior decorated with faded, scabbing wounds, that is something he deems fit for him and him only. he doesn't care what other people do with their lives as long as they leave him the hell out of it, but for the love of all the money that he has acquired over the years slaughtering sorcerers, he will be damned if he finds a single, tiny little scratch on your body.

scars are for toji, not for you, his darling little girlfriend and the day he finds out someone has hurt you enough to leave behind a mark is the day he's putting several bullets into the culprit's head.

toji's worst fear, though he hardly discusses it, is losing you and watching you get hurt. god, he practically lives to protect you, and to feel as though he has failed to do so would wound him detrimentally. he's a tough guy, but you make him so soft, and admittedly he wouldn't want to be soft for anyone but you. you're his rock, his little hot head, and he loves you more than life itself.

if you're hurt, he will lose it.

therefore, when he finds out that you're self-harming? oh, he's on the verge of losing his fucking mind.

he does a double-take when you step out of his room and into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around your body, his eyes widening and his brows arching immediately.

now, toji knows your body inside and out. he's explored every inch, he knows every crook, every crevice, every mark, every texture, and he has never once in the six months you have been together seen the red lines over your inner wrist.

he watches you with twisted lips as you grab an orange from the counter before walking back into his direction. you're almost back into the room when toji calls you.

"uh uh," he stops you, and you pause, turning over your shoulder and purposefully moving your left wrist to press into your towel.

"what?"

"come here," he orders and you give him a strange look.

"why?"

"i wanna see somethin'. come here."

you're quick to snap back easily with your own sarcastic retort, clearly in a foul mood over something. "if you want to fuck, can you wait until i'm fully dried off and after i finish this?' you hold up the orange in your other hand, a perturbed look on your face.

"i don't want to fuck, (y/n), i want you to come here."

toji's voice comes out sternly, and on the verge of anger. you survey his posture, his arms leaning over his legs as he cranes to look at you with a suspicious, firm expression. you can tell that he's serious, and a sudden sense of fear overtakes you that you mask with annoyance.

you don't say a word when you slowly walk up to him, crossing your arms over your chest to conceal your wrist, the hand holding the orange tucked under your elbow.

"what is it?"

toji holds out his palm. "give it."

"...my orange?"

"put it in my hand."

you huff, carefully maneuvering your arm around to keep your inner wrist pointed toward your body as you bring forward the orange and plop it aggressively into his hand. toji watches your other arm the entire time, taking clear note of how you refuse to let your wrist show, and you know you're fucked.

the green-eyed man tosses the orange to the side of the couch and holds out his large palm again, eying you intensely. you look down at him with a frustrated frown, shrugging. "i don't have anymore oranges."

"don't be cute, doll."

"what? do you want my hand?"

"you know i want your hand."

you roll your eyes, raising the hand you had held your orange with when he stops you. "not that one. the other one."

your heart pangs, shaking your entire body as he looks to you expectantly. how the fuck had he managed to notice the scar on your wrist so quickly?

the moment you hesitate, he knows that what he saw earlier is something to be concerned about. you normally never hide yourself from toji, and the way you go about hiding your arm now is defensive enough to raise several brows. he knows you're not dumb, too. he knows that you know exactly what he wants to see.

"(y/n)." he cocks a brow, the severity of his demeanor only making you more uneasy.

he can't see. he can't see what you've just done. he'll hate you. he'll look at you like you're crazy.

"what if i don't want to give you my hand?"

"then i'll just grab it for you, and i don't think either of us wants to go there."

you release a trembling, aggravated breath. you can't get away with anything when toji's around, and while you ponder having chosen to get an orange later, you know deep down somewhere you wanted toji to see. you wanted him to help you, which is why you walked out of that bathroom half an hour after having put those scars on your arm.

"hand, now."

you turn your eyes away with a grunt, slapping your wrist into his hand facing downward. toji is quick to whip it upside once he has a grip on you, and his eyes seem to freeze over the sight of three fresh slices on your upper forearm up close.

his jaw clenches, then unclenches, then clenches and unclenches again as his lips twitch and his eyes adjust to the vision. you're hurt. not only are you hurt, but it looks as though you've recently been hurt. you've hurt yourself.

toji has a hard time figuring out what to do. he's not good with things like this, but he knows that seeing you with scars on your arm is quite literally about to set him off. he always imagined having to defend you from others who seek to hurt you, but never having to defend you from yourself.

he can't fathom it. he's struggling, the muscles in his eyes are twitching, and he can't handle it. he can feel his heart begin to race, unsure if he is angry or scared or mortified or devastated.

there are three lines in your arm. bright red. staring right back up at him.

and you put them there?

no way, you put them there.

but you did. clearly you did, or else you wouldn't be looking so guilty right now.

but when did you? how did you? why did you?

he doesn't know what to think. he doesn't know what to say. he swore he'd always protect you, but how does he even begin to try to protect you from yourself?

"are you out of your mind?"

the question leaves him rather calmly, a low inquiry that you are unsure is meant to be directed as an insult or a genuine ask.

you can't look at him. you don't even know what to think yourself. it had all happened so fast while you were in the bathroom, before you got into the shower.

one minute, you were staring angrily in the mirror, cursing your reflection as your wicked thoughts sprouted grubby arms and guided you toward the pair of brow scissors that you kept in your makeup cabinet on the left side of toji's bathroom.

you wanted to feel in control of the disdain you felt lurking within your soul. you wanted to feel something for fear that you would never be able to feel again, and before you knew it, you were dragging the exposed blade over your skin.

"d'you wanna explain why i'm looking at these cuts on your arm, (y/n)?"

and you know, you know that it's a bad sign when toji uses your name instead of the plethora of pet names he normally elects to call you: doll, princess, mama, girl, pretty baby- anything but your actual government name, and when you hear it roll from his tongue under these circumstances, you can only imagine what's going through his head.

you shift on your bare feet, looking down at your toes. "dunno," is all you say, and toji scoffs in disbelief.

"you don't know?" he emphasizes. "that's all you have to say?"

"if you wanna embarrass me, go ahead, toji. seriously, i'm tired."

"what the fuck makes you think i wanna embarrass you? i wanna know why the fuck my girlfriend walked out of the bathroom with cuts on her arm!"

you rip your arm away immediately when he yells, storming back off into his room and slamming the door behind you.

toji jumps up, suddenly frazzled. he doesn't want you alone in there. he doesn't want you out of his sight.

the navy haired man moves quickly to his door and grabs the handle, only to find it locked. he jiggles it harshly and bangs on the door. beginning to panic. "open the door, (y/n)," he shouts, meeting no reply.

little does he know, your back is pressed against the other side as tears crash over your cheeks. you don't know how you expected toji to react, but the look on his face just now and his tone of voice was enough to send you running off.

you feel ashamed, weak. you shouldn't have gone out there at all. you should have waited until you were dressed, discarding the whole idea of letting toji see what you did so that you could suffer in silence without his help, because what help could he truly provide anyway?

toji's a tough man, but he's soft for you. he would stand in front of a moving train for you. he would sacrifice his life for you, so when you don't answer, he imagines the worst.

"open the door," he says again, weaker, tugging desperately at the handle though he knows it won't budge. he knows he could break the door down, and he's prepared to until he hears you sniff amdist his pounding. he immediately stops, face dropping.

fuck.

this is bad.

he knew it was before, but for some reason, it's only now registering how bad this is.

you're in pain. you hurt yourself because you're in pain and you need him, but he doesn't know how to help you. he's never dealt with anything like this before.

his hand slides from the door and to his side, forehead knocking against the door though his other hand remains tight on the handle. he just needs to see you.

"princess," he mutters defeatedly. "don't make me kick this door in."

silence.

"please," he softens even more. "please, (y/n), let me in."

the house falls quiet once more and you give in. you feel so lost, and the only person who can at least comfort you, in his own way, is toji.

you slowly turn to unlock the door and step back as toji opens it swiftly, staring down at you with wide eyes and at least relieved to see that you haven’t done any further harm to your body.

he does, however, see your tears.

his face tightens as he bends down to scoop you up in an instant, your legs and arms tightening around him as you snivel into his shoulder, his large palms sliding over your body. he feels your small body tremble against him as he walks the two of you over to the edge of his bed, sitting down as you cling to him like a koala.

"i dunno what happened," you whimper into him. "i dunno why i did it. i dunno. i dunno."

you say it over and over, your voice as broken as toji feels listening to you.

he wishes he knew what to do. he wishes he was better equipped to handle this, but never in his worst nightmares did he dream that he would find you here, his fiery girl, the love of his life.

he's been so busy trying to protect you from the outside world that he hasn't even thought about the things that could harm you from within.

he stays silent as you babble to him through tears, holding you just like he knew how. he doesn't want to picture those scars on you. he doesn't want to picture what led you to put them there. he just wants to hold you, to at least let you know that he's here and he's not going anywhere. he may not know how to help, but he knows how to love you and he hopes that's enough.

"i'm not letting you out of my sight, y'hear?" he says gruffly into your ear and you nod meekly. "i'm not letting this happen ever again. not as long as i'm alive."

he mentally swears to rid your house and his of any and every sharp object he can find and to throw it all in a safe as you sink into him.

toji knows how to protect and toji knows how to fight. though he's more acclimated with fighting others, if he has to fight to protect yourself from your innermost demons, then hell, he will find a way to do just that.

sukuna ryomen: lord help you and lord help anyone within a fifty-mile radius when the king of curses discovers that you've been harming yourself.

sukuna is not at all very good with his words or his expressions of affirmations. he is a being of action, and he believes that he has proven his love for you enough by simply allowing you to be in his presence longer than anyone else ever has or ever will.

at first, when he sees a scar or two on your leg, he thinks its just an accident or a result of you being clumsy. then, three more pop up, then five, then far more than he's even willing to count, and he decides that this scar pattern is somehow intentional.

he knows no one else has marked them onto you because he is prepared to kill anyone who comes too close, especially if they have ill intentions. if you were in danger at someone else's hand, he would be the first to know and the person meaning you harm would be dead before they could even think about touching you.

therefore, when he sees that the only person normally within your company is him, uraume, and yourself, the process of elimination leads him to you.

he goes about confronting you rather harshly, as well, for he knows no other way to be.

you're out in the garden of his large residence one day, soaking up the sun, when you hear familiar, loud stomps heading your way from behind.

you turn around and squint to peer up at sukuna, who is standing over you with a menacing glare in his crimson eyes. you don't necessarily find this out of the ordinary, so you greet him as usual.

"hi, kuna," you say sweetly. "you good?"

he is not good. not at all, so he gets straight to the point. "come inside, woman."

you quirk a brow. "why? i just got out here?"

"do not question me."

"can it wait, like, fifteen minutes?"

"do you wish to live in the next fifteen minutes?"

you sigh, entirely too used to sukuna's facade of cruelty around you. you know by now that the king of curses would never dare to hurt you.

"i do intend, to live, yes," you smirk.

"then you will come inside as i have demanded."

"no, sukuna. i want to stay out here for a bit. i've been inside all day."

the pink haired man fumes, teeth grinding together in agitation. he doesn't want to delay this conversation any further than it has already been delayed, but of course, you choose to be difficult.

"very well, we will do this out here," he growls and you smile.

"good."

you don't prepare yourself for when sukuna grabs the back of your chair and whips out around to face him with the unpleasant screech of the legs against the cobblestone. you wince, then retract your face when sukuna lowers his to stare at you from mere centimeters away, one of his arms grasping to push up the lose leg of your shorts up to reveal the set of scars littering your skin.

your eyes go wide, his movements too quick for you to process all at once.

"are these your doing?" he hisses and you gulp.

"s-sukuna-"

"i did not ask for you to say my name. i asked if these scars are your doing."

his eyes are piercing, striking directly into yours. "what are you talking about?" you whisper shakily.

"are we going to pretend like you're an idiot now?" he snarls. he's so mean, but he feels it's for good reason. your body has been tainted, and for some reason, you have been doing the tainting. he needs to know why.

you shake your head weakly. "no..."

"then answer me properly. i will not repeat myself a third time."

you bite down on your lower lip, heart ringing in your ears. you didn't even know sukuna paid attention to you enough to catch wind of something like this.

"yes... i did this," you finally tell him, and sukuna is livid.

"and why would you be doing something so foolish? scars are not something you are meant to give yourself, human."

"please don't be a dick, sukuna, not right now."

"i am asking a perfectly reasonable question and i expect you to answer it," he glowers. "now."

"you wouldn't understand if i told you," you frown and he clicks his tongue.

"stop assuming things of me before i lock you inside of my room where you can not escape or even fathom doing something like this to yourself again under my supervision."

you curl your brows, frowning up at your boyfriend. "if i tell you, you'll call me foolish."

"because this is foolish," he grunts. "but i will not if my doing so will get you to fucking explain yourself."

you shake your head, looking down and contemplating before deciding to just get it over with so that he can stop putting you on the spot. "sometimes i just feel shitty," is all you elect to say.

but sukuna is hardly satisfied with this response. "so you choose to inflict pain upon yourself instead of calling upon me?"

"i told you, you wouldn't understand," you say. "it's not something i can easily explain to you either."

sukuna narrows his eyes. "fine."

he lowers himself to grab you legs and throw you over his shoulder. you squeal, grabbing onto his back as he begins to walk you back into his home and toward his room. "sukuna!" you kick your legs around. "put me down!"

"no. you're coming with me, and you're going to sit and talk me through every single thought that has crossed your little mind to make you think that injuring yourself in such a way is tolerable within the walls of my residence. then after that, you'll come with me everywhere i go from this point on."

"what?!" you exclaim from where you hang upside down. "I don't wanna go everywhere you go," you wine.

"too bad. you should have thought of that before you decided to harm yourself."

sukuna is horrible with words, and far more horrible with expressing his concerns, but despite your temporary discomfort with how he goes about approaching the situation, you can still see in the pinch of his brow and the stiffness of his posture, combined with his refusal to let you go without a proper explanation, that he cares very deeply for your wellbeing.

[darkmatilda]

𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your boyfriend decides he’s going to start calling you a cute pet name, but the problem is, none of them seem to suit you perfectly

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: glasses reid x baumember!female reader, so sweet you'll puke, case in the background, unsub is abducting elderly people, text messages, reader is kinda clingy, use of y/n because i had to

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4k

𝐚/𝐧: requested by @trulymadlydarling <33 sorry if it ended up a bit too long again, but im starting to suspect that im physically incapable of writing a drabble lmao

"I'm tired. When will this week be over?"

"It's 9:13 on Monday."

With a groan, you leaned back against the seat in the corner of the jet, feeling the caffeine craving slowly take control of your body. 

"Just the thought of going to sleep sends intense shivers through me, caused by a heart-wrenching longing, and heavy tears slowly start gathering in my eyes," you complained, resting your head to the side.

Slightly turned, so you could look at Spencer sitting right next to you. His eyes, behind his glasses, also seemed a little tired, though he didn't manifest it as loudly. When you sat down next to him, he partially closed the book he was reading and rested it against the edge of the table in front of him.

"When you're sleep-deprived, you tend to get a bit dramatic," he pointed out in an analyzing tone, though you could catch a slight twitch at the corners of his lips.

"It's not drama, silly. It's the personification of pure exhaustion speaking through my lips."

"I love it when you try to argue with me and end up agreeing with me."

"You just love being right, don't you, smarty?" you huffed. "You love me too, but that's just a side note."

"Oh, now you're teasing. That's good. Means the sleepiness is wearing off," he diagnosed.

Sometimes you were genuinely amazed by how well he knew you, despite being together for such a short time—though maybe you shouldn’t have been. He was a profiler, just like you. Both of you were exceptionally good at reading each other, picking up on moods and small, everyday habits. You used to worry a little that this might make your relationship boring, stripped of surprises. But you quickly realized there’s nothing more captivating than another mind that matches your own and deeply understands its struggles. And sometimes, that feeling itself was a pleasant surprise.

"Next weekend, we're not going anywhere, okay?" you asked in a dreamy tone. The day before, you’d gotten back way too late, which was mostly to blame for your sleepiness. "Not even out of bed."

A look crossed Reid's face, somewhere between eagerness and a grimace.

"I’d love to," he assured with a genuine sigh, but then quickly added, "But I’m afraid I’ve already got something planned."

You tried to keep up the facade of your role, not showing too much excitement. You raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"I'm starting to suspect you have plans for every weekend for the rest of our lives."

"Actually, just for the next fourteen weeks," he admitted with a slight shrug, as if it wasn’t anything to be impressed by.

You weren’t sure if he was joking, and you didn’t get the chance to find out.

"Hey, lovebirds," Morgan called from the other end of the jet, where the whole team was gathered around a small table, ready to start discussing the case. "We're waiting for you."

For a while, you kept it a secret from them that you were starting to expect, but eventually, you had to come clean. Especially when Penelope, who knew everything, started taking every chance to send you suggestive glances or drop not-so-subtle comments. The rest of the team’s reaction wasn’t particularly emotional. They didn’t start screaming in surprise or jumping up and down in disbelief. They were profilers—they had figured it out. But they had enough decency to wait until you told them yourselves. No hard feelings, sweet Penelope.

You took the empty seat next to Gideon, right across from your boss and JJ. Reid settled into a chair on the side, where Morgan immediately poked him with his elbow.

"So, how’s it going in love land today?" Morgan asked, smirking. "Are puppies falling from the sky, and is it going to rain hearts this afternoon?"

You’d gotten so used to these kinds of jabs that, in perfect sync, you both rolled your eyes and opened your mouths to defend yourselves. It wasn’t like you two were constantly all lovey-dovey, exchanging kisses and holding hands at every chance! Morgan just loved to tease you, knowing how much it irked both of you when someone accused you of being unprofessional.

“Take it easy, it’s just the honeymoon phase," Gideon warned, not even looking at you as he adjusted his small square glasses, focusing instead on the folder in front of him. "You grow out of it."

On the laptop screen, Garcia’s face appeared, complete with an orange rose headband in her blonde hair.

"Well, hello there, babygirl," Derek greeted her, a small smile spreading across his lips.

"Hello, you charming, sweet, handsome thing…

Hotch exchanged a knowing look with Gideon.

“As you can see, not always," he muttered under his breath so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. JJ, sitting shoulder to shoulder with him, briefly lowered her amused gaze, trying to hold back a smile. "Shall we get started?"

The atmosphere shifted instantly, as if with the snap of fingers, when you began discussing the case. This time, it was a series of murders targeting men around the age of seventy-four.

"Are we sure this is the work of a serial killer?" Derek asked, his earlier light tone replaced with focus and seriousness. "I mean, looking at it, these guys don’t have much in common aside from their age."

“They’re all from the same area,” you noted, flipping through the victims' files. “But yeah, they don’t have much else in common. Different jobs, some married, some not…you think age is the reason the unsub picked them?”

“Looks that way,” Hotch said.

“About two weeks ago, his granddaughter reported him missing,” JJ informed you, pointing to a photo of an older man. “Ben Murphy, seventy-six years old. He’s from the same area, and all signs point to him being the unsub’s next victim. Each of the victims was held for an estimated three weeks, so there’s a good… a good chance he’s still alive.”

A brief silence settled over the room, heavy with the pressure of time.

“But why keep them alive for that long?” Spencer muttered, his brow furrowed in thought. “None of the bodies show signs of physical torture. They were killed with a lethal dose of insulin. If he chose that method, it doesn’t seem like he wanted to hurt them directly. The motive…the motive is unclear.”

The rest of the discussion revolved around trying to find connections and similarities to other crimes you were all familiar with, but you didn’t come up with anything groundbreaking that would significantly push the investigation forward. However, this didn’t stress you. You were just heading to the place where everything had taken place; you hadn't yet spoken to the victims' families, which often turned out to be crucial.

Just before the jet landed, you found yourself next to Reid, resting your elbow on his shoulder like it was some kind of convenient armrest while you pondered which card to discard from the ones laid out by JJ. This position made it much easier for him to sneak peeks at your cards, which he took full advantage of whenever he thought you weren’t looking (you were looking), so you had to hold them in a very awkward way to prevent him from seeing.

“C’mon,” JJ urged, as the time you were taking to think started to drag on.

You bit your lip.

“Easy for you to say. You’re winning,” you huffed, to which she flashed you a confident smile. “Great minds need time to come up with a solution. Right, Spence?”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, shaking his head slightly.

“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes…”

"Ugh, I wanted you to defend me, you silly..."

“Guys, do you know what I’ve been thinking?” Morgan appeared above you, pulling his headphones off his head.

“Scientists haven’t figured out a way to peek into other people’s thoughts yet,” Reid answered him, staring at the card you had just discarded and raising an eyebrow. Seriously? You shrugged. You knew it was a pitifully bad move. “So no, we don’t, Morgan.”

“I went over the case files again…” Derek continued, completely ignoring the ironic comment from his friend. “Mr. Murphy went missing right after a date with his wife…”

“...And may I ask why you’re sharing this incredibly sad fact with us?” you interjected.

“They went to the botanical garden,” Derek continued.  Everyone stopped, staring at him with completely baffled expressions. “Then they hit up the American Revolution Museum. And I couldn’t help but think of you two. Sounds like the perfect date for you, right?”

You were the first to react, rolling your eyes dramatically. You placed your cards face down in front of you, then rested both hands on Reid's shoulder, leaning your chin on them. You let out a long sigh.

"Can we get just one day without fighting off the nerd allegations?"

"Hey, I'm not mocking you," Morgan said, raising both hands in the air. "Just pointing it out. So, what did you two get up to over the weekend?"

Reid turned his face slightly toward you, exchanging a look. Given how you were positioned, the frame of his glasses lightly brushed your forehead. Well, if you answered your teammate's question honestly, you’d be proving him absolutely right. Before you could manage to turn the question back on him, you were preempted.

"We went up to the hill to try and watch the meteor shower," Reid answered, sticking to the truth. Morgan tilted his head, staring at both of you with interest. "But the sky ended up being too cloudy, so we ended up finding a night exhibit at the museum about space..."

You could see the victorious expression slowly spreading across Derek's face.

"You’re sinking us, silly," you muttered into your boyfriend's arm.

"She's right, silly," Morgan echoed the nickname with exaggerated emphasis. "Anyway, I won’t bother you any longer. Enjoy your game. Oh, and by the way, JJ peeked at your cards when you weren’t looking…"

 "JJ!"

 "That’s a lie—"

"Did he really come over here just to compare us to a pair of retirees?" Reid wondered, watching Derek walk away.

"And to expose a cheater," you added, shooting a look at your friend across the table. You’d lifted your chin from Reid’s shoulder, but your hand still rested there, your fingertips lightly brushing against him—not that you even noticed. Did that even count as touching?

You pointed at JJ with determination. "We’re starting over."

"We’re about to land," she noted, placing her cards on the table and revealing her hand. "So I’ll let it go. But you’re getting your rematch, trust me."

 "Oh, I can’t wait."

She walked off, leaving the two of you alone in the corner of the jet. You noticed Reid had been watching you for a while, his expression unreadable. When you finally caught on and raised an inquisitive eyebrow, he just shrugged and gathered the cards from the table. His fingers shuffled them with effortless precision, the motion smooth and almost hypnotic.

You shook your head, tearing your gaze away from the cards and focusing on his face again.

“What thoughts are you hiding in that brilliant mind of yours, smarty?”

“Those exactly,” he replied almost immediately. He fell silent for a moment as he tucked the cards back into the box. You watched him closely, curiosity piqued, waiting to hear what he’d say next because you didn’t fully understand his response.

“You always call me something,” he added after a pause. “You know…”

“Pet name,” you supplied the term he was missing.

He nodded, and you stayed quiet for a brief moment, wondering if you really used them that often. You’d never given it much thought—they just slipped out naturally when you were teasing him. He’d never reacted to them before, and it had never even crossed your mind that it might cause him any discomfort.

Your expression grew a bit more serious as you shifted in your seat to face him directly.

“Does…does it bother you? Because, you know, if it does…”

“No!” he denied quickly, a faint hint of embarrassment flashing across his face, as if wondering whether he’d been too eager. He shifted into a calmer expression, letting out a small sigh. “No, that’s really not it. Actually…I like them. I like when you use them.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as he admitted it. But the question still lingered in your mind—if that wasn’t it, then what was?

"I just realized…" he continued slowly, with a hint of hesitation. You noticed that both of you had lowered your voices compared to the lively chatter during the card game. It was as if, unintentionally, you'd created a small bubble, separating this moment from the rest of the team.

You liked his whisper. Sometimes, it felt stronger than his regular voice, mostly because whenever he lowered it, it was usually tied to some genuine emotion.

"That I never use them myself. I mean, I don’t call you anything other than your name."

"I don’t…I don’t expect that from you."

"I know. I know, it’s not like I thought you were expecting it. I just started wondering if maybe you'd like me to... to start doing it too. I admit, it’s not something I’m used to—"

"If you’re comfortable with it," you interrupted him without meaning to, feeling the need to emphasize it. Until now, it hadn’t mattered how he addressed you; it didn’t bother you when it was just your name. After all, hey, it’s not really the most important thing in a relationship. But when he suggested it, you felt a flutter of excitement in your stomach. "I’m serious, Spence. Don’t force yourself if it feels unnatural," you added, slowing down a bit, feeling the slight tremor in the corner of your lips. You noticed how his brow furrowed slightly when he caught that movement. Usually, it meant there was an idea forming in your head, and this time, it was no different. "But if you really want to…you should know I have some requirements in this area."

"Requirements?" he repeated, sounding confused, as if he thought he misheard. "Sorry, but what kind of requirements could you possibly have when it comes to pet names?"

“Oh, you have no idea how many,” you scoffed, leaning slightly toward him with a mischievous gleam in your eye. Reid blinked, clearly both curious and a bit apprehensive. “I know you, your mind... so I guess you shouldn’t be surprised that I’m expecting you to be creative. I mean no babe. No honey. 

Spencer stared at you for a moment, a look of disbelief crossing his face, before he let out a soft laugh.

"Alright, I’ve got it. No babe, no honey. Anything else to add to your list of demands?"

"Hmm, let me think," you murmured, to which he rolled his eyes. You didn't actually have anything else in mind; you just wanted to keep him in that state of uncertainty. But then, an additional thought occurred to you. "Oh, I know. It has to really fit with me. And with you. I want using it to come as naturally to you as possible. And I don't want you complaining to Penelope later, saying I forced you into it."

"Seriously, do you think I'd complain about you to Penelope behind your back?" he asked, pretending to be offended. He shook his head as if disappointed. "It's obvious I go straight to Morgan with stuff like this..."

You lightly tapped his arm.

"Is everything clear?" you made sure to ask, keeping your hand on his shoulder.

He glanced at your hand briefly before nodding.

"As clear as the sun. Has to be original and fit," he recited the two demands in their briefest form. He left his mouth slightly open, as if he wanted to add something, as if he was about to come up with the perfect nickname, but clearly, he hadn’t thought of one yet. He let out a short sigh of surrender. "This...this might take a while."

"Take your time, babe."

"Hey, you said we're not using that..."

"I only said you’re not using that”

"So what’s the point of giving me all these demands when..."

You both fell silent only when the jet neared its landing.

*

Working on the case had put a bit of distance between you. Well, it wasn’t unusual—there were often plenty of witnesses to interview, multiple locations to visit or search, and the team simply had to split up. Whenever Hotch assigned you somewhere, he always paired you up in the most complementary way possible, ensuring that your skills and experience balanced each other out. As the youngest members, relying more on brains than brawn, you and Reid rarely ended up partnered together.

And this time was no different.

You sat in the front seat of the car beside Gideon, who was driving. The two of you were headed to one of the victims' homes in silence, and you used the moment to glance at your phone—only to spot a message from none other than Reid.

spence: I’ve been thinking about what we talked about on the jet, and I think I have a few suggestions that meet all of your conditions.

spence: Sorry for texting, but I’m not sure if we’ll get a chance to see each other today, and I wanted to tell you that.

y/n: tell me

y/n: i mean u should be thinking about the case rn not about me

y/n: but i’m just gonna assume ur brain is multitasking enough to do both

spence: Because it is.

y/n: wow so humble

y/n: so???

y/n: what’s with the pet names

y/n: surprise me, genius

spence: Sorry, I don’t have time to write proper explanations for all of them or explain why I think they suit you.

spence: But a few of them are love, dear, darling.

y/n: sweet, but kinda basic

y/n: anyway up to you

y/n: u’ll be the one saying them

spence: Yeah, but you’ll be the one called them, and it has to be something you like. What do you think?

spence: Maybe something less typical like pumpkin

y/n: pumpkin HAHAHA

spence: ?

y/n: sry, i just can’t picture u saying that out loud

y/n: u browsing some top 100 pet names for ur gf site rn?

spence: No

y/n: i’m telling garcia to check ur browsing history, silly

y/n: don’t even delete it she’ll find it anyway

spence: I admit, pumpkin is awful

spence: I really like daisy, but i know you're allergic to pollen

y/n: how do u know i’m allergic to pollen?

spence: 👍🏼

It was truly an exhausting yet enlightening response. Anyway, you didn’t dwell on it too much. Sometimes he just knew. Together with Gideon, you had already arrived at the right address, so you shoved your phone back into your pocket and got ready to get back to work.

*

The words we are ready to deliver the profile were a milestone in every case you worked on.

They marked a gathering of the entire team, where you would collectively organize the information you had gathered during the investigation. Together, you had managed to uncover the unsub’s identity, but there was still the task of determining their motive and locating where they might be holding their still, as you hoped, victim. 

"The unsub spent most of his life caring for his severely ill, mentally abusive grandfather, of whom he was the only relative, which is why he now targets victims of a similar age," Derek began, crossing his arms over his chest. "He holds them for twenty-three days, mirroring the twenty-three years he dedicated to caring for him."

"He sees it as lost time, wasted. He never finished school, he was socially withdrawn. By repeating the same pattern with his victims, he believes he's getting something back," explained Reid, standing beside you, tapping one hand thoughtfully.

"This is all we have,” you muttered under your breath. ‘But we're missing the most important thing. Where is he? Where is he holding this man?”

“Garcia is working on that,” Hotch reassured you, pressing his finger to the earpiece.

“Give... give me some time,” Penelope asked in a distant tone, drowned out by the sound of keys being pressed rapidly. “ I think I have something... I need to check...ugh, fifteen minutes!”

After those words, she fell silent, leaving you all in anticipation. With a sigh, you crossed your arms over your chest, hoping she would find something. Reid stood by your side, slightly separated from the rest. Yet when he spoke, he lowered his voice to a murmur.

You stepped closer to hear him better.

"Vivi," he said softly.

You frowned at him, and his gaze hesitantly met yours—but once it did, it refused to let go.

"From the Latin vivus," he explained. "Full of life, vibrant."

You remained silent for a moment, savoring the echo his words left behind and the look on his face—just a hint of uncertainty creeping in as he waited for your reaction. If it weren’t for the fact that your team members were bustling around and the circumstances weren’t exactly romantic, you might have slipped under his arm. Instead, you settled for a small, sweet smile.

"That’s really pretty, Spence," you admitted, catching the faint shimmer in his dark eyes. "You think it suits me? Do you like it?"

He nodded slowly. You couldn't shake the feeling that something didn’t quite fit, that it didn’t sound natural coming from him. Maybe it was just your imagination? Or perhaps he was distracted, lost in more important thoughts while you were bothering him with pet names? You didn’t really have time to figure that out. At that moment, Garcia’s raised voice cut through the line, announcing that she might know where the unsub is holding his victim.

In the next moment, you were already on your way to the given address, listening to instructions on how to get inside without causing harm to the elderly man being held captive. When you and Reid reached him, he was loosely tied to a chair with rope, his head hanging limp against his chest. You crouched beside him, checking his pulse. It seemed like a simple loss of consciousness, likely caused by the stress and exhaustion of being held captive for over two weeks.

"Untie him," you said automatically to Reid, even though he had already started doing it before you spoke. "Can you hear me, sir? Damn it, I think we’ll need an ambulance..."

"Since when do angels curse?" A hoarse, weak whisper escaped the man's throat.

You exchanged confused glances with Spencer, momentarily frozen in place. The man's temples twitched before he gently lifted his head. His gaze landed on your face, and very slowly, he began to regain full consciousness.

"I died. And you're an angel, right?" he asked.

You sighed with a certain sense of relief. He was a bit delirious, but it seemed nothing serious was wrong with him.

"Don't worry, you’re not dead, sir. Actually, you’re perfectly fine and will be home soon..."

"Whatever you say, angel."

You saw Reid, who was untying the man, try to hide a amused expression on his face. Even after two weeks spent in captivity, Mr. Murphy managed to muster a bit of stubbornness. He told the arriving paramedics that he would only get into the ambulance if the angel who freed him went with him. And since you felt really sorry for the elderly man who had been kidnapped and whose mind was a bit frail, you did it.

You didn’t get back on the jet until late at night. Throwing yourself into the seat next to Spencer, you struggled to suppress another yawn. You didn’t even realize when your temple lightly rested against his arm, but through your partially closed eyelids, you noticed him closing the book he had been reading and placing it in his lap.

"Long day, huh, angel?" he asked. His voice was soft, almost a whisper, brushing your ears as you leaned against him.

"So, you spent the whole day trying to come up with the perfect pet name and ended up just going with the one some confused old guy called me?"you asked, opening your eyes and turning your head to look at him. Or rather, from the position you were in, at his jaw. "Watch out, Spencer Reid. I might accuse you of being lazy."

"I'm not lazy," he denied. "I'm just looking for inspiration in unusual places. Besides, it fits, don't you think? Angel."

"Mhm. Lazy."

With those words, you closed your eyes again, snuggling against him more comfortably. Spencer shifted slightly in his seat, using his free hand to tuck the hair falling onto your face behind your ear.

"Sweet dreams, angel."

[rainintheevening]

They're his children of course. Richard still recognizes them; it's only been two years.

And yet...

Peter is a man. Still six months shy of his draft papers, but he stands, walks, sounds like a man. He always has a pocket knife, he tips his hat to all the females, he sings in a baritone that will only get deeper and richer. The tea he makes is decent, but sometimes he drinks coffee now. He talks about horses and crops and reads Augustine. He can drive a car. He gives orders, and expects them to be followed.

They all look to him, to Peter. Helen calls him to open a jar, Susan questions how her hair looks, Lucy runs to him in tears. As for Edmund, he and Peter are curiously joined, they turn to each other with their laughter, their thoughts, their books and newspapers and letters. As often as his family swirls around him, Richard sees them swirl around Peter, a habit, he knows, born of necessity, but that doesn't prevent it from being strange. Even painful.

Peter moves to take the head of table, catches himself. They both start to say grace, stop, glance at each other. Peter takes the newspaper over breakfast, and is a page in before he remembers. And every time he apologises. Each time he smiles at his father, and it is warm, glad, even benevolent.

One of the first nights, shortly after Christmas, Peter finds him sitting in his old armchair, staring into the fire, after everyone else has gone up to bed. "Dad?" comes the question, and he looks up blinking at the tall man, lamplight crowning him in gold, blue eyes deep and dark with knowledge and certainty.

"I'm not who I was," Richard says, a confession, the kind a father shouldn't burden his son with he thinks immediately, but then Peter is down on one knee, reaching for the mangled hand, tender with the three fingers as he clasps strong calloused palms around them.

"Neither am I, Dad. None of us are." Peter's gaze is earnest, bright. "But you are still my father. And I will always be your son. I am forever grateful for that."

It is as if a great burden rolls off of his shoulders, and he finds no shame in leaning on Peter's hand to rise.

When the holidays end, and the four go back to school, Peter says I love you to each of them at the station.

If Peter is a man now, Susan is a lady.

She sits straight, she walks gracefully, she can cook anything as well or better than her mother. She reads the newspapers with Peter, she scolds Lucy for coming home with twigs in her hair and a tear in her stocking and wet shoes.

She talks less than her father remembers, and there is a woman's sadness in her gazing out the window or into the fire. She is also very admiring of the boys in uniforms, and Richard requests her arm on the way out of church with a father's righteous sense of protection.

But she is also gentler than he recalls, she does not shy away from his injured hand, she takes care of him without making him feel as if he needs care. She sits on a cushion by his feet as she braids her hair in the evenings, leans on his knee as she reads aloud, and Richard thinks, Not my little princess, but a queen now.

At the train station, she kisses him goodbye, and he hugs her close, and there are tears in her eyes as she says I love you.

Edmund is the closest to unrecognizable, the once-obvious four year span between he and Peter seemingly halved. He greets his father wordlessly, all shining eyes and bright smile, and his face is so close to Richard's own it makes his heart break a little.

Ed is no more little boy, he is tall, slim, oddly graceful, but his handclasp is strong. He holds himself the same way Peter does, with squared shoulders and lifted head, but he wears that nobility in a quieter fashion. He's quick to see, quick to hear, quick with a wisecrack that makes Peter laugh out loud. He plays the violin now. He returns the family Bible to the living room with an apology for having kept it since the summer holidays. He reads Agatha Christie as a personal challenge, whispers to Susan in French, and his chess games with Peter are fierce battles of strategy that Richard cannot keep pace with.

In discussions of the war and its movements, he is sober and considerate, he meets each of Peter's moods with a balancing counter, he has a way of phrasing questions that pull out stories Richard had never planned to tell.

A few nights before the children return to school, Richard sits up in bed, certain he has heard a faint cry, and he slips away from his exhausted wife to check on his children, remembering how Edmund had suffered from night terrors as a child, imagining little Lucy inflicted with some dark dream.

But all he finds is shadows in the boys' room, and quiet whispers—Peter's apologies, Edmund's reassurance, and allusions to things Richard has no context for. He lingers by the door, an outsider in his home, until silence falls, and he returns with morning light to find them curled together in Peter's bed, Pete with an arm over Ed, and the father's love is bittersweet.

They have fought their own battle over here, on the home ground, Richard reminds himself. In their own way they have each faced terror and learned to conquer or be conquered, but perhaps he can meet them somewhere in between. Only time will tell.

On the train platform, Ed hugs his father tightly, gives him a smile, tells him to keep out of trouble.

Lucy is the least changed, though she too is taller and stronger, and her eyes are deeper. She still sings, still dances, still tries to make friends with all the animals, still smiles and speaks kind and stares dreaming at the Christmas tree.

She still gives fierce hugs, still climbs into her father's lap, though her head comes up higher on his chest, on his shoulder.

But then he finds gaps in his library, and Lucy returns the medical books with a winsome apology, she asks questions about his practices in the field, she winces but does not shy away from the blood and broken things he speaks of.

Then she recites long poems, words spinning off her tongue until they become half song; she dances swift and graceful, she and Peter laughing and stepping and clapping and spinning in intricate patterns to the swing song on the radio; and it is she who, breathless, quotes Byron: "On with the dance! Let joy be unconfined!"

Her comfort is both generous and thoughtful, and she strokes her father's hair with a motherly hand that makes his eyes sting, and he kisses her fingers, looks up at her to whisper, "Don't- don't grow up quite so fast, my darling."

When she hugs him on the platform, Susan waiting for her, the boys already gone, she doesn't want to let go, and there are tears on her cheek, that he wipes away gently. "Be careful, Daddy," she whispers. "Get strong. Take care of Mummy."

"Yes, little mother," he smiles back.

And then they are all gone, and he takes a cab home, weary of his still-recovering body.

He will have to learn his children all over again, he thinks. But he is proud of them still. That has not changed.

[hollyoongs]

⤷ MY BABY LIKE TO STRING ME US ON!

시놉시스┆ 𝙟ake𝗵͢oon, ─────⠀f!reader 𓂅 𝑤.𝑐: +9.9k ꒰ ⌗ smut with plot ꒱ ↷⠀ ℰditoral ! 𓂂

─────⠀cursing, kissing, protected sex, oral (male and female), choking, use of lube (lots of it), fingering (anal and vaginal), double penetration, pet names (baby, princess, pretty, doll, etc), dirty talk (brief), daddy kink, praise kink, spanking (one time, if I remember correctly), squirting and let me know if I missed anything.

You looked at your watch; you could feel the excitement going through your veins as the time went by. After months of saving every penny you could get from your part-time job, you could finally afford tickets to a rock concert of your favorite band, Crimson Eclipse.

The concert had been on your mind for months ever since you saw the post of their official account; your brain was filled with fantasies of screaming along to their songs and losing yourself in the sea of fans, recording every now and then as you could feel your throat hurt from all the singing. And here you were, front row, right in the center. The venue was packed already; people were simply taking selfies, preparing the handmade banners they held, or running to the bathroom, the muffled sound of soundchecks echoing faintly through the heavy doors that made the place more pumped up. You adjusted your outfit—a mini black dress with an oversized leather jacket. It was not the best outfit for a concert, knowing that you would be jumping, and the boots with heels you were wearing also didn’t help at all, but that actually didn’t matter. It was your favorite band’s concert, and you were going to go all out.

You shook your head to erase any negative thoughts and took a picture of the spot you were in, the screen focusing on the stage, and you smiled, already knowing how worth it it was to pay for the first-row ticket. You’ve been a fan of them ever since you saw that recommended video of them at the ripe age of fourteen doing a cover of “Welcome to the Black Parade,” and you were still here, eight, almost nine, years later. It made you proud how far they have gone, winning awards and gaining a lot of recognition and fame, but you saw how they didn’t lose themselves or start disliking what they do, music.

The lights went out, surprising everyone who thought there had been a technical failure, but soon that was cleared by the sound of an electric guitar that alerted you, followed by excited screams that made everyone look around to find the source of the sound. This was the first (and hopefully, last) time the first row was conspiring on your contrary; at least, you could get a view thanks to the heels.

Two guys appeared, and you could help but scream at the very familiar shadow of the dynamic duo, Jay and Sunghoon. The two of them were rocking a new look, black hair, standing back-to-back under a soft spotlight that made them stand out. Both of them moved in different directions, Jay—sporting his signature eyebrow piercing—heading toward the first rows, all this while playing without missing a beat, drawing cheers from the audience. Soon after that small intro, the lights on them vanished, and so did they.

A new spotlight illuminated another person, this time, Heeseung, on the stage. He also had a new hairstyle, silver hair to be exact, with his guitar slung across him. He played with the microphone in his hand, his tongue tracing his lips, a small habit he had whenever he was about to sing that you found endearing the majority of the time. Key word, majority of the time.

"Put your loving hand out, baby…" he sang, all the spotlights coming on to point at the performers.

You glanced at the stage, Jake’s shirtless body welcoming everyone as he was playing with drumsticks, the flirty smirk popping out immediately at the cheer while Jay stood on top of the speakers.

Your loose hair was brushed aside delicately, the touch of unfamiliar lips on your shoulder trailing lower beneath my jaw, making you turn, ready to yell at whoever it was to not let you peacefully check on them, but the words froze in your throat when you realized it was Sunghoon. His lips moved closer to your ear as the cameras of several cellphones were pointed at you, recording the fan service you were receiving.

"I’m beggin’……"

Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was the only word running through your mind as you watched the guy walk away from your side and head to the stage with a smirk on his face, most likely pleased by your reaction.

“Fuck, you’re so lucky!” A girl next to you screamed, but you didn’t pay any attention to the glow of her phone recording your dumbfounded expression, too busy processing what just happened. Sunghoon was now standing behind the microphone, his fingers skillfully moving across the bass strings, still wearing that superior smirk that was quickly erased to focus on playing the right chords. Your gaze shifted behind him, and you were hit with a wave of surprise—and an even stronger wave of heat on your cheeks.

Jake was looking at everyone there, soon laying his eyes on you, his exposed tattoos making you trace them with your eyes; sometimes you couldn’t even see them properly because of either one, his flexed arms were moving rhythmically and passionately as he was playing the instrument, or two, that made you lose yourself in the song. His tongue peeked out slightly as he winked at someone in the crowd—or one of the members, occasionally. The piercing in the middle of his lips caught the light, a new piercing.

Yeah, they were going to be your reason to not be alive.

You could physically feel every note they played vibrate through your body—it was the reason why your body matched the energy the band radiated through jumping and singing every lyric. You had only heard the songs through your headphones at a very concerning volume, and even then, their songs caught and captivated you that another band has never done before. But now, performing right in front of you, completely live and giving their all to every song of the setlist, was like entering a whole new world.

The songs were hypnotizing, and they were unstoppable.

You couldn’t define a word to describe Heeseung, but one close to your way of thinking was striking. His black-polished nails contrasting against the silver rings on his fingers and his red microphone in his hands. The butterfly tattoo he recently got on his neck drew the eye, and his gaze never left the crowd, ensuring no one felt left out. You truly can wrap your head around the fact of someone having such charisma; it could be the fact that he was made for the stage, to project everything he had on his mind and connect with people with an ease that seemed almost otherworldly.

Jay, who was dressed in leather and chains with his dark hair falling into his eyes, was the one who brought fire to every performance. Matter of fact, everybody did, but he has this power that pulls the crowd with a single word; his guitar solos could make any room fall silent in awe due to his confidence because, to the fans, every single note he played was a piece of his past, present, and future woven into the strings of his guitar, making even the loudest venues feel intimate, letting them know that it wasn’t only technique but emotion and honesty.

Sunghoon can’t be left out, his hair slicked back, and his ripped jeans left little to the imagination, especially paired with his sleeveless shirt that showed off his defined muscles. He was a whole visual, but his passion for the music and how he can get things done was what made him him. He couldn’t simply exist in the background; he was intensity and precision incarnate, making his stage presence wasn’t about flash—it was about power. It didn’t matter if his fingers danced across the strings, if his voice was being for backup vocals or main; it was that fire in his eyes that was the proof that passion and love could be silent but deafening at the same time.

And Jake, funny enough, he was the heartbeat of the band, his hands always a blur as they commanded the drums with power and precision, channeling the rhythm that kept everything—and everyone—together. His perpetually messy blonde hair with his loose pants, low enough that they showed the ‘Calvin Klein’ elastic, and no shirt was a statement, as if he didn’t need to try hard to turn heads. He was dynamic, a force of nature on stage that was so effortless yet impactful that it made no doubt why he was one of the best artists, along with his brothers.

As you saw all of them three smiling and soaking in the moment, it popped to your mind that they were one of the few bands that weren’t just performing; they were living, breathing, and thriving under the stage lights, and their presence demanded attention, not because they forced it, but because it was impossible to look away. And you would make sure to give them all your attention with proud tears in your eyes.

You could feel your throat getting sore by the minute because of screaming along with the rest of the crowd; your feet were slightly hurting, though that was actually the least of your problems. About five—maybe eight—songs later, the band took a well-deserved break. Everyone started to take out their phones, including yourself, the moment you all saw Heeseung raising his hands to greet the crowd, flashing his perfect row of teeth that had more than a few people sighing in love.

“Good evening, everyone. Thank you for coming to our show tonight. Are you having a good time?” he asked. The crowd erupted with various affirmative responses, making the band smile. “That’s a relief to hear. If it’s your first time here, let me introduce ourselves. My name is Heeseung, and I’m the main vocalist and guitarist. To my left is our incredible bassist, Sunghoon; our star guitarist, Jay; and behind us, the best drummer I’ve ever met in my fucking life, Jake.” Each member greeted the crowd in their own way, gaining all the cheers from everyone in the venue.

You turned to see Jake leaning against a speaker with Sunghoon, both of them wiping their sweaty bodies with small towels. The Australian's eyes found yours again, his smirk widening as he caught you staring. He mouthed something—Well, hello there—before taking a swig from his water bottle, something that didn’t go unnoticed by a few fans there, and responding to him, tilting his head back in a way that made your knees weak. Sunghoon leaned in to say something to him, but Jake waved him off with a grin, his focus still locked on you.

“Before we get back to the set, this next song is really special to us; it’s really close to our hearts. Hope you all enjoy it.” Once again, the crowd cheered; now the light was slightly dimmed, leaving a soft blue glow to everyone, an unusual color to use since they only used red lights.

The moment the opening chords were heard, everyone realized it was a new song; you did a small zoom on your phone to only focus on the band, the crowd soon finding themselves swaying to the music, completely captivated by the unreleased song. In the middle of the song, Sunghoon had a bass solo where he got down to interact with the people, going from the back to the front, doing a few stops to interact with as many people as he could. By the time he approached the first row, he stopped in front of you.

Sunghoon knelt down right in front of you, the strap of his bass pressing against his chest as he played with ease, his fingers dancing over the strings and his gaze locking with yours. The corner of his lips quivered into a smirk when he saw the way your mouth hung slightly open, your awe written all over your face due to the talent he had. He leaned closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him, not minding the people feeling his exposed arms or grabbing his chest, only you.

Your breath hitched as his smirk got a little wider. Before you could react, he straightened up, still playing, and gave you a wink before moving down the line to interact with other fans. The crowd around went wild, but your heart was pounding too loudly in your ears to care; you laughed in disbelief, forcing yourself back to enjoy the slow rock song. The song ended, and soon, the familiar opening riff of “Karma” blasted through the speakers.

You held your phone high, capturing snippets of the band. Jay took center stage, shredding his guitar like it was an extension of himself, his sharp features illuminated by the flashing lights. Sunghoon and Heeseung joined him at the front; Jake, meanwhile, was behind the drum kit, keeping the tempo tight.

Song after song, the setlist didn’t let anyone down. Fan favorites like “Blockbuster” and “The Walls” both had the entire venue screaming all the lyrics back at them. By the time the band announced their last song, the crowd was buzzing, their energy at its peak. In the middle of everything, you saw how Jay was now the one sitting behind the drums, and Jake picked up another guitar; the surprise on everyone was evident, but considering the fact that Jake was a guitarist who later fell in love with the drums, all of us knew he was not going to disappoint.

“We love you all,” Heeseung said into the microphone, his silver hair damp with sweat. “Thank you for making tonight unforgettable. This last one’s for you. Make some fucking noise!”

The band launched into their closing song, “Shout Out.” Jake and Sunghoon, back to back, played guitar in unison, and Heeseung jumped into the crowd; this was one of the many highlights of the concert. Confetti cannons exploding were the reason the crowd was being showered in glittering red and gold paper. The moment Heeseung went back to the stage, they did their final bows, some of them collecting presents they were being thrown at and others giving the towels they used to clean their sweat by some of the fan requests.

The house lights came on as the band exited the stage, and the crowd began to disperse. You were still on cloud nine when your phone vibrated in your pocket; you answered the call.

“Hey, Da Bi, what’s up?” you said, and you could sense from the other line that she was at a party.

“Y/N, did you forget that today is Sun Hee’s party at the Avalon Club, right?” You opened your eyes wide, already moving through the crowd to go. “Guys, she forgot! Pay me!”

“I’m so sorry; I’m already on my way; I think it’s near, right? I was at the concert.”

“Oh yeah, how was the concert?” You smiled wide at the mention of the concert that you were positive you won’t forget.

“It was incredible,” you said, your voice still hoarse from screaming along to the songs. “I can’t even explain it—everything was perfect. Sunghoon literally stopped right in front of me during his bass solo.”

Da Bi let out a dramatic gasp. “Shut up! Sunghoon? The bassist who looks like he walked straight out of a fantasy novel? You’re kidding!”

“I’m not,” you replied with a laugh. “I think I’m still in shock. And Jake kept looking at me too. I swear, I’m not imagining it.”

Da Bi’s voice rose in excitement. “Okay, now I really need all the details when you get here. You’d better hurry before we drink all the cocktails without you.”

“I’m on it,” you said, weaving your way through the dispersing crowd. “Save me something fruity, okay? I’ll be there soon.”

Ending the call, you quickly pulled up directions to Avalon Club on your phone. It wasn’t too far—a ten-minute walk at most. You adjusted your bag, made sure your phone still had enough charge, and joined the stream of concertgoers heading toward the main exit.

The cool night air hit you as soon as you stepped outside. The streets were alive with post-concert energy, people chatting excitedly about the show or taking pictures with their newly bought merch. You caught sight of a food truck nearby and briefly considered grabbing a snack but decided against it. Sun Hee’s party wasn’t something you could casually walk into late.

As you hurried down the sidewalk, your phone buzzed again. This time it was a message from Da Bi.

Da Bi: The DJ is killing it tonight. Don’t make me send Sun Hee to drag you here!

You laughed under your breath and picked up the pace. The distant thrum of bass from Avalon Club grew louder with each step, and because your tension was too high, you were ready to make your friend happy.

When you finally reached the club, you could see a line of people waiting to get in, the neon sign glowing bright against the night sky. You spotted Da Bi near the entrance, waving frantically when she saw you.

“You made it!” she said, pulling you into a quick hug. “Come on, let’s get inside before Sun Hee loses her mind.”

“Lead the way,” you said with a grin, already feeling the infectious energy of the music pulling you in. Since it was late, about to be eleven p.m., there were more people than usual.

Now that you really took a look at the place, it was packed; the music was pounding through your chest as you and Da Bi weaved through the throng of bodies on the dance floor, the diverse color lights pulsed to the beat, casting an almost hypnotic glow over the crowd. You could see how you two were spotted almost immediately from the VIP section by the birthday girl, waving wildly at the sight of you and your—hopefully—future girlfriend. She wore a sparkly silver dress that shimmered with the minimum movement she made, a drink in her hand and a contagious smile on her face.

“Finally!” Sun Hee exclaimed as you approached, pulling you into a hug. “You’re lucky we love you, or I would’ve sent someone to drag you here myself.”

“I’m sorry, but I have an amazing excuse. The concert was insane,” you replied, laughing as Da Bi pushed a fruity cocktail into your hand and, with his free one, grabbed Da Bi’s hand.

“Drink first, details later,” Da Bi declared, already swaying to the music.

You took a sip, the sweetness and tang refreshing after the rush to get here; you greeted Da Bi’s friends to not be disrespectful. The music shifted to a more upbeat track, and soon the three of you were lost in the rhythm, dancing without a care in the world. Sun Hee’s party was in full swing, complete with a table laden with drinks and snacks for the group.

There was a moment where Sun Hee was almost grinding between you and Da Bi, already drunk enough to even grab you from your neck. Some of the party invites were doing a circle around us, enjoying the show with their own partners or some random person they met at the club. You looked to your left, and you thought that the alcohol on your head was making you create scenarios in relation to what happened at the concert, but when you saw one of them raising his hand right in your direction, you knew you were not losing your mind.

At the corner of the VIP section, you saw Jake with a girl on his lap kissing his neck, his hooded eyes locked with your body and his hand waving at you. You returned the greeting and saw Sunghoon. He was seated beside Jake, a glass of whiskey in his hand, the amber liquid swirling as he tilted it slightly. His sharp gaze was piercing, trailing over your form with intensity. The shadows that the club lights created accentuated his features—his jawline sharp enough to cut, his lips pressed into a faint smirk, only looking away to some fans that recognized them and wanted a sign.

Your eyes went back to Jake, and when he realized that, his smirk deepened as he leaned back further, the girl on his lap completely unaware of the silent exchange happening between you two. Looking around, you found Heeseung and Jay playing drinking games. He whispered something into Sunghoon's ear, making him giggle, and their eyes never left yours, as if daring you to keep looking.

“Holy shit,” Da Bi whispered, her eyes wide and noticing the guys you were looking at. “Are they…?”

“Yes,” you said, barely able to get the word out, mostly because you don’t want them to have the idea that you’re stalking them.

“Okay, now you’re just living in a fantasy,” Da Bi muttered, shaking her head in disbelief as her grip tightened around Sun Hee’s waist.

You turned back to her, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I swear, I didn’t plan this!”

“Well, if this isn’t fate, I don’t know what is,” Sun Hee said, nudging you, her tipsy self still finding the way to speak. “Now, are we going to give them a show or what? Kiss me since you didn’t bring a present."

You looked at Da Bi, and she nodded, giving you the green light to grab the back of Sun Hee’s neck and put your lips together; the euphoria of the moment even made Da Bi not have a care in the world and roam with her hands over the birthday girl's body while kissing her neck.

The crowd around you was eating it up, and you were almost positive that you didn’t have to glance over to know Jake and Sunghoon were still watching—if you act cocky, it is obvious.

Sun Hee broke the kiss with a mischievous laugh, her eyes gleaming as she turned to Da Bi, pulling her into the moment as well, kissing her with passion. The three of you danced together, hands roaming, bodies swaying in sync with the beat. When you finally dared to look back at the VIP section, Jake’s expression was unreadable, and so was Sunghoon's. The girl on his lap was trying to get Jake’s attention by showing more of her cleavage with her hands caressing his chest, but his focus was solely on you. He tilted his head slightly, as if to say, ‘Keep going.’.

Sunghoon, meanwhile, leaned back in his seat, one hand resting on his thigh while the other one played with the back of his neck. His eyes were sharp, following every move you made; he soon reached out to take another sip of his glass, his lips curling into a subtle smirk when your gaze locked with his.

Da Bi leaned close to your ear, her voice barely audible over the music. “Just in case! There are free rooms upstairs!”

You laugh, already knowing what your friend was trying to say. “You’re out of your mind.”

She grinned, nudging you playfully. “You’ve got their attention. Just in case you want to take them both.”

You rolled your eyes at Da Bi's cheeky comment, though your lips curved into a sly grin at the thought of it. "Both? That's ambitious, even for me."

"Oh, fuck off! Don't act like you don't want it. You're practically making them beg from up here." Sun Hee said, looking at you before giving a quick look to the club. "Look, the girl from Jake's lap set off! Go get them!"

"Sun Hee, they are celebrities, and they are already taking pictures of them! If they see me going with even one of them, it’s most likely that they will get my address in no time. Please forget it." You decided to give your attention to Sun Hee, who was dancing with her friends, and you joined in with the iconic Big Bang song ‘Fantastic Baby.’. From the corner of your eye, you saw how Da Bi disappeared.

You stopped dancing when you saw how drunk Sun Hee was and how she was tripping with nothing but her feet, taking her hand so she could sit down at your separate VIP section. Da Bi started looking for the two of you; you caught her attention by putting your hands up in a waving motion. She quickly came, and you decided to go to the bar, coming back soon after with a bottle of water for Sun Hee.

"Where did you go?" You screamed so she could hear you as you sat down beside Da Bi.

"I went to the person that plays with the lights; they will turn them off and play for like half an hour with the colored lights."

"Are you out of your mind?! Why did you do that?!" Da Bi rolled her eyes as her palm touched your exposed thigh; you could also see how the alcohol was getting to her as she did a small giggle and forgot what she was about to say.

"So you can get down with both of them; when was the last time you had really good sex?" Sun Hee entered the conversation. "And if I’m being honest… I want to fuck Da Bi." You opened your eyes but soon laughed about it.

"You two are insane." You laughed, and just like Da Bi said, the lights turned off to make an entrance to the colored lights, distracting people as more bottles came their way.

"Go grab those sticks and sign that NDA; make us proud!" Da Bi made you stand up and slapped your ass. You walked a few steps before looking back at them; they were already making out, so you had no other choice but to go.

You started to walk to the bar for a shot of vodka to make you even braver to do anything with them; the liquid burned, but at least it did the work to calm your nerves. You exhaled deeply; the calm came to you in contrast to the wild environment you were in. People were coming from left to right to the bar, and soon, a person sat on the free chair next to you.

"You look like you've got something on your mind." His voice was loud enough to make you listen. You knew that voice like the palm of your hand, of course you did. The nerves came back when you saw Jake, leaning casually against the bar and close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him.

You raised an eyebrow, swirling the vodka in your second glass before drinking it all, the feeling a little more tolerable than before. “It's not very often that a person of your favorite group looks at you too much and comes to talk to you. You know?"

"You grabbed my eyes at the concert. Did you enjoy the show, by the way?" The smoothness of Jake’s voice near your ear when he decided to move closer captivated you. It was not the first time you heard his voice, but having it near you was such a different thing. Because of the closure between the two of you, you could see how his shirt was open just enough to tease the edge of a tattoo on his collarbone, smirking at the memory of him being shirtless in the show.

“You guys were unforgettable. You sang my favorite songs.” Your comment made Jake chuckle, not in a funny manner, but in a proud one.

“Good. I’d hate to think all the effort went unnoticed.” You got brave enough to create a small distance between the two of you, if it was possible, noticing how his gaze dipped and looked at your lips, lingering just long enough to make your cheeks warm.

“Sorry about him; he likes to flirt a lot.” A loud voice appeared, and by the smile on Jake’s face, you could think it was Sunghoon, and sure it was, once your head turned around to the direction of the voice. Your eyes met, and Sunghoon gave a side smile, a very common gesture of his. “I’m Sunghoon.”

“I already know that, but it's really nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” You grabbed his extended hand when you noticed it, his thumb caressing the top of it before letting it go. “I’m a fan since your MCR YouTube covers.”

Sunghoon’s smile now grew bigger, his characteristic shy smile with his fangs showing up and a genuine smile from Jake. “Wow, it’s been a while since we’ve heard that.”

“We’re lucky then; thank you for sticking around this long.” Jake said, and you grab another shot on your way, drinking it all at once and ordering some for Jake and Sunghoon. The moment they arrive, you point at them.

“Thank you for drinking these shots,” you teased, feeling a sudden surge of confidence. The bartender gave you six shots; the boys looked at each other before drinking three each of them. The DJ changed the music, people practically screaming when the speakers were blasting “Don’t Stop The Music” by Rihanna. You stood up and walked a few steps away before turning to them. “Wanna dance?”

“Who are you asking?” Sunghoon said, pointing at him and later, Jake.

“To both of you.” You tilted your head to look at them both, and Jake stood up from his chair. You went a little deeper into the crowd, and soon you felt a presence behind you. Jake gave you a smirk before grabbing your hips, and Sunghoon found his way in front of you, and your drunk self wrapped your arms behind his neck.

All the people were stuck together, and the sultry rhythm made you feel both of their bodies so close to you that you locked eyes with Sunghoon again, and just like Jake minutes before, his gaze went to your glossy lips and right back to your eyes.

“You don’t have to be shy,” you teased; your voice was just loud enough to be heard over the music.

One of his hands left your waist and directly moved your hair aside to speak directly through your ear. “I don’t think I am. We just don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or forced to do anything.”

“You both don’t make me feel any of those things. You two make me feel good". You gave a small laugh after the double senses of your last sentence, gaining a small smile from him as he noticed your voice steady and sure despite the alcohol.

“We can make you feel good.” Sunghoon’s hand on your waist traced imaginary figures on your sides; your right hand travelled sensually from his shoulder to the back of his head, softly grabbing some of his hair, a dominant move from your part.

“You have permission to prove it,” the words left your mouth, and his hand threw your hair back completely before giving a small bite on your ear, making you shut your eyes as you sighed. He started to pamper kisses from the back of your ear to your neck, feeling how he suctioned softly a couple of times and gaining soft moans from you, throwing your head back and falling on Jake’s chest in the process when he found a specific spot on your neck.

Jake watched everything, and you could tell how he was enjoying it fully; he saw how you opened your eyes to connect with his eyes, and you grabbed his right hand to put it right on the front of your neck, feeling the coolness of his rings making a contrast with your warm skin.

“Kiss me.” You didn’t have to tell him twice when his lips crashed with yours, and it was everything you expected as the moment was turning more intimate—intense, dirty, and needy. His hand tightened slightly around your neck as the kiss deepened, slightly limiting the oxygen you were breathing while feeling the coolness of your middle lip piercing. Sunghoon didn’t stop either; his hands went slowly to your ass, squishing the flesh of it as he was watching, slowly losing all self-control. All three had lust in their eyes.

The moment Jake left your lips, he made your head turn to Sunghoon, your hand flying to the back of his head again as he kissed you. His kiss was more sensual, he was practically savoring the moment, but when his tongue brushed against your bottom lip in a way to seek permission, it became rougher losing it when he sucked your tongue, and action that you secretly loved, his lips catching the sinful moan you gave to him. Now, you could feel Jake’s plump lips attacking the other side of your neck, and you smiled in the middle of the kiss.

Sunghoon bit your bottom lip, sighing at your state, his left hand stopping on your face to caress your cheek, watching your swollen lips and cleaning some of the saliva from the corner of your lips; you quickly wrapped your lips around his thumb when he touched your bottom lip with a teasing smirk playing on your face. The sudden move made Sunghoon's brows raise, his lips curving into a cocky grin.

“You look like a dream.” Sunghoon said, and Jake hummed in response.

“I look even better naked.” You didn’t want to sound like a ‘pick me,’ but if there was a chance to actually have them both by the end of the night, you wouldn’t waste it.

“Sunghoon, go to the manager so he can rent the room above us.” Since Jake was the oldest, he nodded and went to find him, making his way quietly in the crowd so he couldn't be seen. You and Jake made your way to a nonvisible corner following Sunghoon with the same caution as his friend, who ended up talking to one person that you recognize as the manager.

The club was still dark, green lights flashing every now and then with the beat of electronic music. Jake leaned casually against the wall of the reached corner, diving back to your lips and kissing you slowly, not trying to rush things despite having your approval. His hand was going south, handfully grabbing your ass while yours went to his shirt, undoing one button.

“All done; we can go to the room.” Sunghoon’s voice interrupted the moment, all three going through the hidden stairs to the last room of the hallway between laughs and slight touches. With a key, Sunghoon opened the door, making you enter first, the both of them joining right after.

The door clicked shut behind them, and the low thrum of the club music faded into a distant hum. Your hands were instantly placed on each side of your jacket, removing it and tossing it to an individual couch in the room, not noticing that Sunghoon was also taking his leather jacket off his body to leave it on a table as well as his rings. Jake came closer to you, his hand reaching for yours to put your chests together.

“Are you sure about this?” You could tell he asked for both of them, but you had already planted the idea in your head.

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” Sunghoon approaches you after a few moments, his hands finding your waist as he draws you in for another kiss, hearing Jake scoffing at the action. You felt how his kiss was slow until it became rough like the one you had on the dance floor. Despite the heat that was radiating from both of you, his hands felt cold when they went to lower the back zipper of your dress, yours going immediately to his belt.

Jake’s presence loomed behind you, his hands brushing along your arms before resting on your hips. “Don’t get greedy, Hoon.” Jake’s breath was hot against your ear, and before going down your neck, you felt the cool air touch your back when Sunghoon successfully zipped down the dress and Jake let the fabric fall to the floor in a soft heap.

Sunghoon went directly to your back, separating Jake slightly, feeling how your bra got loose in a quick motion. You took the end of his white shirt, taking it off him with his help; meeting his unknown belly button piercing, a small gasp left your mouth. Usually, men will only have the traditional piercing, the two dots, but you will never imagine seeing a silver cross-shaped, dangling belly button piercing. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips. When the fuck did he get that?

“Not what you expected?” You denied it, and your hands went to his small waist, fingers lingering on the pretty jewelry.

“But it suits you.” You smiled as you made a 180° turn to face the Aussie boy, clamming his lips in a kiss. His hands softly gripping your breasts and smiling in delight with how you made them know how good they were making you feel, just like they said. You could feel Sunghoon's hand playing with the strings of your thong, snapping the elastic to your skin, making you grow desperate due to his little game.

"Fuck, just take it off," the exasperation was very noticeable by the tone you used, the sound of how SUnghoon spanked your ass resonated in unison with your gasp.

"Easy, baby." Jake guided you to sit on his lap on the edge of the bed, his erection trying to get out of his pants, but you were getting distracted by how Sunghoon kneeled in front of you. "Let me take your shoes off."

He took your heel boots easily and put them away; his hands caressed your legs from your ankles to your thighs, his lips leaving kisses in the process. You threw your head back to Jake's shoulders the moment his veiny hands grabbed once again your tits, his index and thumb playing with your nipples. All the sensations you were experiencing were embarrassingly noticeable on your underwear, sticking into your cunt.

Sunghoon’s hands slid higher up your thighs, not being able to see the mischievous glint in his eyes due to Jake abusing every spot on your neck. He leaned in, pressing his lips to your inner thigh, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just enough to make you shiver. Sunghoon’s fingers hooked into the sides of your thong, pulling it down slowly, his eyes never leaving your entrance. The fabric slid down your legs, and he tossed it aside, his hands returning to your thighs to spread them gently.

He trailed kisses higher and higher, causing small shivers through your entire body, a reason why Jake's hands moved down your waist to hold you steady the moment you squirmed at the sensation of Sunghoon's tongue against your core; moans falling from your mouth when his fingers went deep in you, stretching you out.

"You're so responsive," Jake said, his left arm hugging your body as the other hand went again to one of your nipples to pinch it, trembling at the combination. "You will hold your orgasm; can you do that for us?"

“Y-yes, I can, just… don’t stop, please.”

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl.” You could only nod since your voice caught in your throat as Sunghoon continued his work, alternating between slow, almost teasing strokes and firm fingering. "Sunghoon, let me."

You whined when Jake stood up and left you with your legs open; he lowered himself to the same level as your wet cunt and eagerly licked a long strip, collecting as much as he could of your arousal to make a stop on your clit. You laid down completely on the bed in a moaning mess, incoherent words coming from you that you couldn’t even understand when Sunghoon's tongue joined, fucking you as deep as he could. Both of your hands went to their heads to create a grip on their hairlocks; Jake hummed to your action, the vibration of it causing that familiar knot to almost snap.

“Please stop, please, please.” You were begging at this point; Sunghoon separated from you with his fingers inside you this time, curling them to touch that sweet spot that you sometimes couldn’t even reach yourself.

"You better give me a good reason," he said, nonstopping his movements and even making them faster. Your moans got higher as you tried to speak, looking for the perfect timing.

"I want to cum on your dicks." Your comment made both guys freeze for a moment, their eyes meeting over your trembling form. Jake let out a low chuckle, and his hand brushed your hair away from your face with his mouth and chin glistening from eating you out. “Please, daddies.”

You truly didn’t know what got into you; the word simply slipped out, tumbling from your lips before your brain could catch up. The room went silent, and a heavy tension hung in the air. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you froze, unsure whether to apologize or fake yourself passing out, but that last one would be too pathetic.

Jake’s hands guided you to sit down, and he walked straight to you. Your hair was formed into a messy ponytail by Jake. To make you look up, you gasped at the sweet feel of the slight pain that caused. “Be a good girl and help Daddy out, then.” Your hands travelled fast to his belt and boxers, hissing the moment he saw your doe eyes looking at his hooded ones with your hand wrapping his dick.

Sunghoon went to one of the drawers, and after some searching, he came to your spot and threw condoms and a half-empty lube.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Jake." You hand-wrapped around his length, his head being thrown back when you put a certain amount of pressure. You looked back; Sunghoon was almost naked, his black boxers still on, not helping with hiding his erection. "Let me help you so you can join."

With your free hand, you grabbed the elastic and took them down with his help. Sunghoon's dick had slightly more girth than Jake's, but the same length. He stood up next to him, your free hand positioned on Sunghoon’s hip before you left a kitty lick on his tip, being rewarded by Sunghoon’s soft groan.

You started slow movements, your hands sliding up and down their lengths, enjoying the way their breaths hitched and their eyes showed you how much they liked it. Jake’s hips bucked slightly into your touch, making you lean forward to put your lips together around Jake’s tip, swirling your tongue and earning a sharp intake of breath. Sunghoon groaned softly, his hand reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so good.” You heard Jake moan, so you went a little bit deeper, his hand not wasting time to put it behind your head, grabbing your hair in a messy ponytail to see how you fully took him. You took him deeper, his tip touching the back of your throat and making yourself gag around him, the vibrations causing his body to shake slightly and hold Sunghoon’s shoulder, who was also losing his mind. You were bobbing your head up and down, and the hand that was on Sunghoon’s length followed the slightly fast pace you were creating.

After a few more minutes of controlling his orgasm, you turned your attention to Sunghoon, taking him into your mouth as you continued to pump Jake. And just like Jake, his hand went directly to do the same messy ponytail.

“G-God, this feels… s-so good.” An idea popped out in your brain as you took him out of your mouth; hearing him whimpering was not something you expected, but it did make you even wetter for both of them. “P-Please, go deeper.”

You let him go out of your mouth as you spat on it for extra lubrication, “You mean like this?” You focused on breathing through your nose, relaxing your throat in the process as you took him deeper; Sunghoon’s hips bucked forward, hitting that little bell that actually made your eyes water.

“Fuck, y-yes, baby. Don’t stop, please.” Time passed, and you saw Sunghoon's polite facade turning off; the back of your head still got his hand behind it, with the difference that he was going deeply and roughly, trying to release himself. He was about to speak out when you once again took him out of your mouth but soon created a small choir of moans and groans when you made his and Jake’s dicks be placed right next to each other as you pathetically tried to suck on their tips, the corners of your mouths hurting.

You were going back and forth, hearing them praising you, only motivating you to suck them off even more; their moans grew louder, and that was your cue to stop. You looked up to meet their eyes. “Someone please sit on the bed.”

Sunghoon was faster as he sat on the bed, taking the condoms and lube to his side. You crawled right on top of him, his tip touching your wet entrance at the action. You initiated a kiss; he was tasting himself through that kiss, feeling that he liked it when his hand went to the back of your neck, tongues touching and creating even more wet sounds.

“Are you going to keep sucking me, baby?” Jake’s voice made its way into the room; you looked around and grabbed the lube in your hand. He was confused at first, but soon opened his eyes when he realized what you intended to do. “Holy fuck, you want to kill me.”

Jake gave a small peck on your lips before going behind you; his hands gripped your hips, making you position yourself on all fours; the coolness of the lube touched your anus. While Jake dedicated himself to spreading and combining the lube with your arousal, Sunghoon took your face to pamper kisses. This time, they were sweet enough to distract you, locking his eyes with yours.

"How can I make you relax better, princess?" you thought about it, smiling softly at him.

"How about a 69?" The moment his lips went to your cunt at first, you could tell how much of a munch guy he was, like it was a life-or-death mission to leave you empty. Sunghoon smiled, both of you getting comfortable at the position.

You got once again his pretty dick in front of you; the red color of the base was evident, the tip shining due to the precum that you wanted to lick. You felt his kisses once again in your inner thighs, his thick fingers pushing into the skin of your ass, spreading it apart for him and Jake.

"I'm going to finger you first. Can you relax for me, baby?" Jake's voice was deeper than before. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart as Jake's voice resonated in your ears.

Sunghoon was utterly absorbed, his lips and tongue working on you like a starving man, his fingers gripping behind your thighs for a moment before going back to your ass, holding you steady as you took him in your mouth.

Jake’s fingers traced teasing circles, spreading the lube evenly while ensuring you adjusted to the sensation. You sat for a moment on Sunghoon's face, and Jake took that opportunity to lean in closer, his breath hot against the back of your neck as he murmured, "Let me know if it's too much, baby. We want you to be comfortable."

You went back to being on all fours, licking Sunghoon's tip again before going all in and sucking him off, his moans vibrating right on your cunt.

"I want you to breathe for me, baby." You did what he said, feeling his fingertip barely pressing against the tight ring of muscle, giving you time to adjust. "You're doing so well, such a good girl." His praise made you wetter, arousal that Sunghoon licked every time.

"F-fuck, princess. Please take me deeper." You heard Sunghoon's whiny voice, so pretty, and you took it as you could, gagging around him and gaining a small spank. "Shit, sorry."

"Please do it again, Hoon." You said it was embarrassing how much you liked it and how you didn’t even think of what you were about to say, like you did this whole night. Your mind was out of it in pleasure. His palm spanked the plush skin of your ass again, more arousal creating on your entrance.

Jake's hand tightened on your hips, his fingers moving in a slow but deep rhythm, coaxing your body to adjust to his touch. You moaned softly around Sunghoon's length, your focus split between Jake's patient teasing and Sunghoon's growing desperation.

Sunghoon let out a deep groan, his mouth taking deep breaths to rest for a moment. “You’re doing so well, princess. Look at you, so pretty with your mouth full of me.” His voice was strained, trembling with need as your tongue worked over him.

His words sent a shiver through you as Jake's fingers finally pushed deeper, carefully allowing you to adjust once again to the sensation. Your body tensed at first, but the combination of Sunghoon’s tongue on your clit and Jake’s soothing words eased you into the moment.

“Relax, baby,” Jake whispered, “You’re taking me so well. Just breathe.”

You moaned around Sunghoon, your body relaxing as you followed Jake’s guidance. Sunghoon’s hand tightened in your ass, his breaths coming faster as he tried to hold back. “F-fuck, Y/N, you’re going to make me lose it.”

Jake chuckled softly behind you, his tone filled with both amusement and desire. “Not yet, Hoon. Let’s make this last.”

Jake added a second finger, stretching you; his other hand trailed up your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake and feeling how he pushed you down, making you gag around Sunghoon. Sunghoon’s hips bucked slightly against your lips, and you responded by hollowing your cheeks, taking him even deeper.

Jake's fingers began to thrust once he saw you moving your ass towards him, and Sunghoon went back to thrusting your entrance with his tongue. You had to stop sucking Sunghoon to let all the moans and gasps free.

"Fuck, d-daddies." You put your hands on Sunghoon's thighs for support, feeling your legs shaking. "You two are so good for me, shit!"

Jake's pace quickened to drive you to the edge, and Sunghoon was unwilling to let you catch your breath as he groaned against your core as his tongue thrust deeper, his lips teasing every sensitive spot.

“Look at you,” Jake murmured, his voice husky and low as he leaned over you. His lips brushed against your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine. “Such a needy little slut for us. Tell me how much you love it.”

“I—ah—I love it so much, Daddy.” You managed to gasp, your voice shaking with pleasure. “You’re both—fuck—so good.”

Sunghoon chuckled against you as he focused on pulling every last sound out of you. “You taste so good,” he said between licks, his breath warm against your skin. “Don’t hold back. We want to hear from you, baby.”

Your body trembled, your knees threatening to give you out as the sensation was consuming you. Jake’s fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot with each thrust, while Sunghoon’s fingers pounded in and suctioned on your clit. You cried out, your head falling back as your pleasure built to an unbearable peak.

“Daddy, I’m so close,” you whimpered, your fingers digging into Sunghoon’s thighs as your legs quivered.

Jake’s fingers withdrew suddenly, leaving you empty and aching. Sunghoon stopped his movements, mesmerized by how your pussy was clenching around nothing, eager to have someone inside you. Sunghoon separated you from his body; to sit properly with his back touching the bed headboard, he reached for a condom, ripping the packaging off and sliding the condom through his dick, twitching due to the sensitivity.

You crawled to him, lips kissing as you tasted yourself; your hand reached to his throat and applied pressure on it, an action that made him groan. You separate from him as you look at him.

“You also like that, huh?” Your teasing came flat as his hand went to your throat while his free one went directly to your pussy; you jumped as he inserted two fingers inside you.

“Don’t test me.” He lost his grip and kissed you back, no stopping his movements. You got on your knees on top of him when he stopped; he aligned himself in your entrance, and you slowly got lower, not holding the loud moan at feeling of finally being filled. In the meantime, Jake also put on a condom and went behind you, aligning himself as he also went inside you slowly; both of your holes were filled, and it was like all three were touching heaven in every way.

A few moments later, it was you who started to move as you could before they started thrusting into you; by their gasp of air and incoherent words that would leave from their throats, it was clear that they were enjoying it as much as you were as they moved in perfect unison, somehow synchronizing with the rhythm of your trembling form.

You were so wet that it was easy for both of them to go faster than before, touching spots that you never thought you had, their trust growing more confident, each one coaxing gasps and cries from your lips that only encouraged them further.

“Look at me, pretty,” Sunghoon's voice entered your ears, your blurry vision focusing on him as much as you could; his mullet was messy, swollen lips from the kissing and biting his lower lip, and eyes hooded from all the ecstasy he was feeling, “A pretty doll losing her mind for our cocks, right?”

“Y-yes! You fuck me so good.” you said, motivating the two of them as they went even faster, if that could be possible. “Daddy! I’m going to cum.”

Your walls unconsciously clenched around Sunghoon the moment Jake went deeper, stimulating even more the coil that they were creating. Sunghoon was now the first to stop; it took you back a little, but even more how he turned you around. You were now facing Jake’s fucked-out expression; Jake shared almost the same expression as Sunghoon, with the difference of his glossy eyes, the pleasure even being too much for him.

You felt how Sunghoon’s dick made its way to your wet ring muscle, occupying Jake’s spot. Jake could see how your eyes rolled and your mouth opened to let out the prettiest whines and moans, his mind already making scenarios of that same expression as he entered inside you.

He pumped his painfully hard dick before pushing himself inside you with ease; the double penetration was fast from the beginning. Your hands were extended behind you for support, and Sunghoon’s hands held you steady as Jake’s fast movements created friction for all of them; the bed was moving because of the mingling with the symphony of breathless moans and whispered praises.

“I—I need to cum! Please, daddies, let me cum.” You started to beg, an action that made Jake smile with cockiness.

“Let go, baby. You deserve it.” Sunghoon whispered in your ear, one of his hands going directly to your clit. “Let me help you.”

His fingers moved as fast on your bundle of nerves, and the coil inside you unraveled, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your cries filled the room, your squirt making a mess in all of you three.

“Let’s leave her empty, Jake.” And they sure did that until the last drop of squirt left your body, both of them guiding you through the overwhelming sensation. Sunghoon followed soon after, his lips on your hips tightening as he reached his peak, a deep groan escaping his lips. Jake was the last to fall, his head resting on the curve that connected your neck and shoulder, his breath hot against your skin.

You felt even more empty when they let go of you, their condoms full of their semen as they threw them in the trash after they did a knot in them. The three of you collapsed onto the bed in a tangled heap, the aftermath of what happened leaving you breathless and content. You passed your hands to your face, knowing that your mascara definitely was ruined and you looked a mess.

Sunghoon’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as Jake’s fingers traced lazy patterns along your back, basking in the after in the quiet room.

“This is probably the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.” Jake said, making you and Sunghoon laugh.

“Glad I could make that happen,” you said, taking your hand to his cheek and leaving a small peck on his lips.

“And this is our first time having sex with a fan, or having a threesome in general.” Sunghoon’s comment shocked you, feeling a surge of pride due to his comment. You smiled shyly.

“I’m also glad to be your two firsts on that.”

Jake chuckled, pulling you closer into the warmth of his chest. “Well, you’ve definitely set the bar pretty damn high. I don’t think anyone could top this.”

Sunghoon smirked, propping himself up on one elbow as his fingers traced absentminded circles along your arm. “We should’ve done this sooner. But…” He hesitated for a moment, exchanging a glance with Jake. “There’s one small thing we need to take care of.”

“Signing an NDA?” you said with a smile, resting importance on it. “I can give your manager my number so he can deliver the paper. Or do you do that online?”

Sunghoon laughed softly at your comment, shaking his head. “Not exactly the romantic pillow talk I had in mind, but yeah, we need you to sign an NDA. It’s not personal, just… well, you know how things can get.”

Jake leaned in, his lips brushing against your temple. “We trust you, but this is more for everyone’s peace of mind. You understand, right?”

“Of course,” you replied, your tone reassuring. “I get it completely. I’d probably do the same if I were in your position.” You reached over to the bedside table for your phone, all of your phones were there thanks to Sunghoon, who stood up and grab all of them three. “So, how does this work? Should I text my info to your manager?”

Sunghoon tilted his head, clearly impressed by your level-headed response. “We’ll handle it. Our team can send it to you digitally, or if you’re comfortable, we can go over it together before you leave.”

Jake gave a lopsided grin. “Thank you for taking it well. Most people would freak out or make it awkward.”

“I don’t plan on ruining the best night of my life by overthinking,” you said, smirking. “Plus, I kind of expected this. It’s not like I can go around bragging about having a threesome with my favorite artist.”

They both laughed, and the tension in the air eased. Sunghoon leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Thanks for understanding. We’ll make it quick and painless.”

Jake grabbed his phone too, scrolling through it for a moment. “I’ll shoot a message to our manager and let him know. They’ll probably have it ready in a few minutes.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the surreal nature of the situation. Here you were, tangled in the sheets with two idols, discussing legal documents. “This has to be the strangest post-sex conversation I’ve ever had.”

“Well, it’s a first for us too,” Sunghoon admitted, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “But I think it’s safe to say this was worth it.”

Jake nodded in agreement, setting his phone down as he pulled you both closer. “Definitely worth it. And who knows? Maybe we’ll need to renegotiate the terms if we ever want to do this again.”

─── DON'T MIND ME, I <3 ROCKSTARS! I really got into it, hope this is a good enough blog to come back to enhablr, sorry if it's too long, got carried away as you saw. any grammar mistakes will be solved later!

𓄴 𝐓aglist (mostly moots!): @hheeluv @awqken @taeghi @caratstick @021894s @hees-love @heechwe @yangkkomi @dollyyun @wwooyology @ja3yun @v1rtu4ld0ll

[virtual-bunny]

“ HEY NERDY BOY ! ”

random headcannons about nerdjo because he turns me on

pairings: nerd! gojo x chubby fem! reader

WARNINGS: SMUT but not too detailed, some body image issues, probably some writing errors :3

a/n: i might come back every now and then if a new idea pops up in my head hehe

ARTIST CREDS: @/N06ARA ON TWITTER

✧ nerdjo who can almost cry over how beautiful he thinks you are

✧ nerdjo who stammers over his words when you wear shorts that squeeze your thighs just right

✧ nerdjo who clings onto your body and inhales your scent and gets a boner instantly as he grips your love handles

✧ nerdjo who slouches so you can give him a kiss, his glasses slidding down his nose bridge as your lips touch his cheeks, his cheek warm from him being flustered, and when you pull away, nerdjo’s eyes are almost crossed eyed as he sighs deeply

✧ nerdjo who uses your tummy as a stress ball when you sit next to him while he does his physics homework

✧ nerdjo who lays on your tummy as you play with his hair while he sleeps, saliva spilling from the side of his mouth

✧ nerdjo whose so head over heels for you that he begs you to let him carry your books and backpack so he can trail behind you to see the way your ass and thighs jiggle

✧ nerdjo who helps you with your homework and pinches your cheek, side or thighs whenever you get something wrong

✧ nerdjo who holds onto your stomach when you’re riding him, his face flushed and glasses crooked as he looks up at you with drunken eyes

✧ nerdjo who stumbles to catch up to you because he was too caught up watching you walk infront of him

✧ nerdjo who rolls his eyes when his jock friend geto teases him when he sees that gojo isn’t paying attention to lecture “she’s got you wrapped around her finger doesn’t she?” “wrapped around her thighs” nerdjo sighs without a second thought

✧ nerdjo who likes to put his hands around your tummy and gently squeeze it whenever you two are watching tv and you’re sitting between his legs

✧ nerdjo who fivershly pumps his cock at the thought of your round body jiggling when you ride him, or when you laugh, or when you walk

✧ nerdjo who makes snarky comments at you when you try to show him that “you’re way smarter than he is”

✧ nerdjo who reads out his physics notebook out loud just to make you mad because you hate physics

✧ nerdjo who goes all red whenever he brings you gifts on his way to your dorm

✧ nerdjo who doesn’t like going outside and rather stay home watching Teen Titans but still does because he knows you like to go out on dates

✧ nerdjo who used to bite his pencils out of habit but now bites your chubby hands if you’re sitting next to him as he does his homework or helps you with yours

✧ nerdjo who has to assure you he loves you and thinks your as beautiful as “The Euler-Lagrange Equation” (you have no idea what this means)

✧ nerdjo who puts his hands under your stomach, thighs and boobs to keep them warm

✧ nerdjo who bores you to death as he talk about quantum physics but you don’t say anything because you find it cute the way he sometimes spits by accident when he rambled and how his glasses slowly fall when’s he’s making movements as he talks

✧ nerdjo who likes to prove you wrong whenever you try to be a “smarty pants”

✧ nerdjo who softens when you go up to him while he was working on a project and tell him you’re worried about him because he looks like he hasn’t slept in three days

✧ nerdjo who mutters to himself in class when a stupid frat guy tries to answer the professors question, obviously saying the wrong answer but clearly only doing it to get laughs out of everyone. “what an idiot.” gojo grits to himself

✧ nerdjo who looks seriously shocked when he’s helping you with your homework and you get the wrong answer even though the right answer is CLEARLY right in front of your eyes “love… you seriously don’t know the answer…?”

✧ nerdjo who spends HOURS in the library to a room all by himself, books, papers, pens and pencils all scattered around the table while trying to get his work done, his hair messy and eyebrows furrowed, but when you text him saying you were gonna drop off food for him, his whole demeanor turns soft and giddy thinking about how he’s gonna be able to see you

✧ nerdjo who if he’s not doing homework or reading, is playing or watching digimon in your dorm, explaining everything he possibly can so you can catch up to the lore (you stopped listening a long time ago)

✧ nerdjo who doesn’t really talk much in class but when he does, the professors have to cut him off because gojo can talk for HOURS

✧ nerdjo who makes you sit on his lap as he codes on his computer

✧ nerdjo who can solve a rubix cube in a minute and always does when you ask him to (for your own entertainment)

✧ nerdjo whos into physics and computer science

✧ nerdjo who awkwardly puts his hand around your shoulder when the two of you are walking back to your dorm (he nearly trips)

✧ nerdjo who when you tell him a fun science fact, crosses his arms, leans back on the couch and goes “well ACTUALY-“ it’s too late to stop him, he’s already yapping to you on how the fact is wrong

✧ nerdjo who starts looking stupid now because you two have a class together when the new semester started and he can’t concentrate at all because he’s too concentrated looking at YOU

✧ nerdjo who tries to be freaky by putting his shaky hand on your upper thigh but you smack it away and he gives you a sad puppy look as he fixes his glasses, you swear you could see tears forming in his eyes

✧ nerdjo who runs to you when he finishes a prototype for whatever sciencey class he has and with full confidence says “you’re looking at the new science prodigy babe!” “uh huh” you say

✧ nerdjo who goes to the library again to study, he’s so stressed but he’s glad you came along, that’s until you went under the desk he was sitting at, undoing his belt and pulling down his pants and boxers JUST barely, hes literally gripping onto the table, face flushed hair messy crooked glasses and chest heaving trying so hard not to make it obvious you have his dick in your mouth

✧ nerdjo who makes you tag along with him to the nearest store to get the newest Digimon cards

✧ nerdjo who makes you gasp when you turn around for one second and look back to see him fighting a literal ten year old for a box set of Digimon cards

✧ nerdjo who doesn’t show you memes, but shows you reddit posts that you have no interest in looking at

✧ nerdjo who makes you sit on his face, but not to eat you out, but so your thighs can squish his face. he says that “it de-stresses him” and when you go to complain he says “it’s scientifically proven that it does”

✧ nerdjo who SOMETIMES is a cocky asshole in class, and when an acquaintance of yours who’s also in gojos’s class tells you how much of an asshole your boyfriend is, you straighten nerdjo up by riding his face nonstop to the point he’s crying because HE’S not getting any action

✧ nerdjo who you convince that overstimulating him will “de-stress him” and “make him focus better” so when you tied him up in your bed with a vibrator wrapped on the head of his cock, he’s whining, crying, squirming, eyes rolled all the way to the back of his head and pleading you to “let him do anything to you” (when you finally let him cum he tells you the next day that his focus is 97.56% better than it was the day before)

✧ nerdjo who’s so competitive when the two of you play video games he forgets you’re his GIRLFRIEND and is brutal with the insults when you loose

✧ nerdjo who’s actually really strong and likes to carry you around your dorm or outside when the two of you go for a walk. and even though you’re protesting and telling him you “don’t wanna hurt him” all nerdjo says is “just cause i’m smart doesn’t mean i’m not strong”

✧ nerdjo who likes to suck your clit while gripping your tummy

✧ nerdjo who likes to grip your fupa cause he’s weird like that

✧ nerdjo who ANALYZES your pussy and your actions whenever he’s fingering you or fucking you so he can make you feel better for the next time you two fuck (you always have a stronger orgasam each time after the other)

✧ nerdjo who bites his nails and gets told off by you (he immediately begs for your forgiveness)

✧ nerdjo who kisses your tummy whenever he lays down on your lap and turns his head so he’s looking up at you and says “you’re the most angelic thing i’ve ever seen, you know that?” he sighs contently while pushing his glasses up and giving you the stupidest toothy smile

[osachiyo]

searched pervy xavier here and am very disappointed that i do not share this notion with anyone else 😔

tws: n/sfw content, panty stealing, getting caught, mentions of non-consensual recording, masturbation, reader brings other ppl home, he’s a lil pathetic but we love him, 0.6k+ wc, jealous!xavier, he’s a lil nasty tbh, my writing is messy here cuz I wrote this on a whim apologies if there are any errors ₊ 𓂃 also nonnie me 🤝 you … but imagine him as your pervy roommate . ps. art by rororo_mg on X + star dividers made by @saradika-graphics (check emout!)

Perv roommate!Xavier thinks you’re so damn cute, honestly, you're just the sweetest thing ever. Every morning, he can't help but smile when he sees you in the kitchen, making breakfast for the both of you. There's something about the way you move so effortlessly, humming to yourself while you cook, that completely melts his heart and makes his cock stir in his sweats. He can’t help but stare at the little shorts barely covering your plump ass fully.. fantasizing about walking up behind you and bending you over the kitchen counter. Xavier imagined how your cunt would taste on his tongue- how your pussy would gush in his face as he ate you out like a man starved.

perv roommate!Xavier makes a habit to purposefully drop stuff in front of you, giving you his best puppy eyes and requesting that you pick it up for him, and it worked like a charm every time. Little did you know that it was only an excuse to have you bend over in front of him— azure eyes raking over the tempting view you put on, saliva gathering in his mouth as he stared at the roundness of your ass. Hell, he could even see your puffy pussy lips through your tight shorts— were you wearing them on purpose?

perv roommate!Xavier who knows about your little toys— the baby pink vibrator that you use at night, not knowing your roommate is pleasuring himself to your sweet little moans and yelps. His hand squeezing his cock tightly, trying to imagine how your soft cunt would feel around him— or even your cute little mouth. He’d try and match his thrusts to your moans, and it makes him cum embarrassingly quick— sticky white goop spilling on his bedroom floor and hands, leaving him panting. Maybe he should set up a camera in your room sometime..

perv roommate!Xavier who gets jealous when you bring a random guy home one night, telling him that you’ll try not to be loud. ‘Why would you bring another guy home when he was right there?’ — he thought, as he heard the wet, lewd sounds of you getting fucked by another man. Fuck, it made him mad but also he couldn’t help but get turned on by it. The sounds of your bed creaking- slamming against the wall, your wails and cries of pleasure as you got pounded into the sheets made Xavier’s cock throb in his pants. God, he really was a freak— getting off to another man fucking the girl he liked.

perv roommate!Xavier who would insist on doing laundry for the both of you— but that's only an excuse to steal your panties. He can't help it, y'know? They're so cute and pretty.. and just perfect to wrap around his cock while he fucks his fist with the thought of you in his mind. Sometimes he even likes to sniff 'em, groaning out loud as the scent of your pussy floods his senses. He can't help but lap his tongue over the small wet spot on the thin material, suckling at the spot where your clit would be— moaning and whining as spurts of pre leaked from his cock.

perv roommate!Xavier who was currently jerking his cock with your used panties wrapped around his cock in the living room— shamelessly getting off to the thought of fucking your sweet, warm little hole while you were at work. He was so focused on how you would feel around him, that he didn't even hear the front door open. You could only gasp at the sight— his cream colored sweater pulled up and pants pulled down, and clenching and unclenching with each pump of his hand- wait.. were those your panties?! Before you could even reprimand him— or even get a word in, for that matter, Xavier's head whipped to your direction as he heard the small noise— his panicked blue eyes catching your own shocked ones.

"Oh. Shit."

[fastandcarlos]

Bump Cuddles : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: watching you pregnant is a dream for max, especially with your bump there on offer for him to always snuggle up to

His eyes landed on you as soon as you walked into your bedroom, Max’s smile turned up as he watched you close the door behind you, knowing that was you for the night. You placed your phone down before perching on the edge of the bed, slowly rolling onto your back and stretching out. 

As you reached up, the material of your pyjama shirt lifted up, revealing your babu bump. “Look at you,” Max chuckled, instinctively moving towards you and placing his hand on your exposed skin. 

“This thing is lethal these days,” you chuckled, relaxing under the pressure of the warmth of Max’s hand. “I could do some serious damage if I wanted to with this thing.” 

“Tell me about it,” Max chuckled, all too familiar with being on the receiving end of you barging him forgetting how much space you now needed to get around. “Just think, there’s only a few more weeks to go until you won’t have this anymore.” 

“I can’t wait,” you laughed as Max turned his frame around so that his head was resting just beside your bump too. “The bump might look nice, but it’s the most impractical thing in the world.” 

With your bump growing day by day, you were finding it harder and harder to manage. Max was struggling to sit back and watch you, knowing that there was very little that he could do to help you. He did as much as he could, more than enough as far as you were concerned, but he still felt as if he could do more. 

“This is the stage that I’ve looked forward to the most,” Max admitted, brushing his hand over the surface of your bump, pushing your shirt up. “It’s so cuddly and the size of it too, no matter what you’re doing, or wearing, it just looks incredible.” 

As your bump became more prominent, Max’s excitement grew. He was glued to your side whenever he was around you, his hands couldn’t get enough of feeling your bump and the little movements of your son who was wriggling around inside. 

“Do you need anything?” Max asked you, realising that you were settling for the night. “Can I get you anything to make you more comfortable?” 

Your head shook in reply to Max. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt properly comfortable, but you were settled at least for now. Max was used to you being pretty restless, happy to do whatever he needed to do to help you whenever you needed to shuffle. 

“Let me know if you change your mind,” he added, reminding you once again that he was there for you, offering you a sympathetic smile as your eyes met his. 

Your hand came down, brushing through Max’s hair as he made himself comfortable to lay down beside your bump for a little while. “I think he must know that you’re home as he’s been kicking around a lot more than usual today.” 

“Has he?” Max excitedly asked, quickly moving his hand around wondering whether he could feel one for himself, having missed the feeling of your baby’s kicks during his weekend away racing in Qatar. 

You could only chuckle at the excitement on Max’s face, searching and searching for that sweet spot. He made no secret of the fact that feeling your son’s kicks was his favourite part of your pregnancy, every single time excited him as if it was the very first time he’d felt it.  

“What are you going to cuddle when the baby arrives?” You teased. 

“I might actually have to cuddle you again, not your bump.” 

When you first fell pregnant your bump baffled Max, he couldn’t believe how you had a little human growing inside. Now though, he couldn’t imagine the last few months without it, cuddling up to it had become a habit for Max without him even realising he was nearing it most of the time. 

“Sometimes I feel as if I’ve forgotten what you look like without your bump,” he laughed, continuing to move his hand around in search of a sign. 

You nodded in agreement with Max, having forgotten what your feet looked like having been unable to see them for quite a few weeks. “I think my body will be glad when what’s growing in the bump is on the outside, not the inside causing me any pain.” 

“Are you in pain now?” Max nervously asked, immediately panicking. His doubtful eyes looked at you as your head shook, but trusted you all the same. 

Max had always done a good job of taking care of you, but your pregnancy had introduced you to a whole new world with max. Protective was an understatement to describe how he treated you from the moment he found out you were pregnant. 

“I’m scared you know,” Max suddenly whispered, “our son will be tiny, I’m scared when I cuddle him out of your bump I’ll squash him or something.” 

You couldn't help but laugh as Max spoke, “you’ve had plenty of experience holding babies and you’ve managed not to squash any of them.” 

“But they weren’t mine,” he added, “I’ll give them an extra cuddle knowing that he’s mine.” 

Your hand continued to brush through his hair, “trust me, if you look like you’re going to crush our son then I’ll be sure to let you know.” 

The way his mind worked fascinated you, especially as Max seemed to overthink everything. He wanted every little thing to be perfect and would stop at nothing to make sure that it was. Every possible scenario had been considered by Max, even those that seemed completely out of the ordinary. 

“I think once the baby is here you’ll forget about me,” you joked, “you’ll only want to cuddle our son rather than cuddle up to me.” 

Max’s eyes were wide as he tilted them up to look at you. “There’s no way that I’ll ever forget about you, with these broad shoulders I’ll be able to hold the two of you without any problems at all.” 

“You know I’m only messing with you,” you replied, surprised by how serious Max was as he responded to you. 

“I’ll cuddle you more than ever once the baby is here,” Max assured you, moving his hand from your bump to rest against the top of yours. “I’ll cuddle you forever in appreciation for all that you’re about to put your body through in order to make our family complete.” 

As the two of you fell silent, you quickly grabbed Max’s hand placing it against your bump. Luckily for him, you got it there just in time as your son kicked out exactly where the palm of Max’s hand rested. 

“There he is,” Max chuckled, snuggling in closer to your bump, savouring the feeling of your baby letting you know that he was there. 

“That’s the hardest he’s kicked all day,” you breathed, taking a deep breath through the discomfort. “Obviously he’s very happy to have his daddy home too.” 

Max’s eyes studied you closely, “only a couple more weeks and you’ll be able to rest in peace again sweetheart, without all these interruptions.” 

“Are you forgetting the fact that we’ll have a screaming baby instead who will happily keep us up all night long Max?” 

“Let’s just forget about that for now,” he sniggered. 

Your head nodded in agreement, “I don’t know about you, but I’d quite like to make the most of these last few weeks with our bump.” 

“Me too,” Max smirked, “I’ve not got long left to cuddle this bump of yours, and I’m determined to make the most of it.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[luviestarz]

lee heeseung fic recs! part 2 ♥︎

♥︎ CATCH US, DISPATCH ! ⎯ l.hs. (completed) - @jalnandanz (being in love is hard. being in love with an idol is even harder. being in love with an idol while being an idol yourself is basically hell. what will girl group member y/n and member of boy group enhypen, heeseung, do while in this situation? and are they even trying to hide their relationship? i mean, holding hands without wearing masks and a cap is basically asking for dispatch to catch you!)

♥︎ eat with me - @fruityhoon (soft yandere!hee x gn!reader)

♥︎ "keep kissing me like that and i'll marry you" (heeseung x reader) - @heeliopheelia

♥︎ 이희승 、PRETTY GIRL - @boyfhee (bsf!heeseung, hints at friends with benefits)

♥︎ — ONE THING BEFORE YOU LEAVE - @flwrstqr (bf!heeseung x fem!reader)

♥︎ 이희승 、DINE AT HOME - @boyfhee (bf!heeseung, established relationship)

♥︎ tides of regret | heeseung - @pprodsuga (in the year since heeseung first rejected your love confession, you've tried everything to get over him. a trip to europe makes you realize you miss your former best friend more than anything, and it makes heeseung realize he's got it all wrong.)

♥︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ FORBIDDEN ATTRACTION ┊ LEE HEESEUNG - @jungqkook (if anyone was more popular than you at hogwarts, that person had to be lee heeseung – the young quidditch prodigy who has every girl at his feet and every boy following him like his puppies.)

♥︎ let's collab | (m) - @taeghi (you've always vied for the top spot on onlyfans but "hluvsbabes" makes it tough with his undeniable charm and looks. when you unexpectedly meet him you realize he's even more captivating up close. despite the competition, you find yourself unable to turn down his one request.)

♥︎ MAKE A MOVIE - L. HEESEUNG - @enhaheeseung (smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, edging, cream pie, missionary position, filming.)

♥︎ 𝓑𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌 ୨୧ 𝐋𝐇𝐒 - @jlheon (you give heeseung detention once again for his habit of loudly chewing gum)

♥︎ are you jealous or are you jea— - @forallthethingsyouvemadeof (jealous! heeseung)

♥︎ eyes on me ; lee heeseung - @yeonzzzn (heeseung picks you up after a later shift from work and showers you with kisses in front of your work building.)

♥︎ 𝙄’𝙢 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 | 𝙇.𝙃. - @simjaexy (Sometimes Heeseung gets jealous a little too much when you talk to other guys or when they flirt with you, so you have to remind him that you belong to him.)

♥︎ LATE NIGHT DRIVE ⟡ 𝒻. 이희승 - @fleurre (biker!hee x f!r your boyfriend shows up in the middle of the night to take you on a ride)

♥︎ teeth - @gyuuberryy (you were not thrilled about the move in of your new neighbour. mostly because he was so strange and seemed to be hiding something dark. and partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him because of your unwanted attraction. you were determined to expose his dark secret and get rid of him once and for all. but, it was proving to be a difficult task because he was just so irresistible..and needy.)

♥︎[ ♥︎ ] ── drunkenly in love  |  lhs. - @haerni (in which heeseung comes to you with stupid smiles, slurred words ‘nd with tipsy thoughts of you.)

♥︎ 𝓽𝓲𝓷𝔂 thing | 𝓵𝓱𝓼 - @onlyrains (relationship is scary; what if your partner is too tall for you to kiss them?)

♥︎ I HATE YOU — l.heeseung - @ikeuverse (you and your best friend's brother hated each other, almost as a matter of course between the two of you. but something changes when you wake up in his bed at the weekend.)

♥︎ ⎯⎯͟͟♥︎̼̻ 𝓈inking onto your ֺ  cock ꞌꞋ ࣪ _ 𝐿HS 𓈒 - @shypen (at your company’s afterparty located at your boss’ luxury mansion, the head staff & your co-worker lee heeseung excuses himself to head to the restroom. he doesn’t return after a while, your curiosity causing you to go search for him in every room in the house, pausing when you hear whiny moans from the guest room.)

♥︎ ㅤ ꢾ꣒ㅤㅤ BOY IN LOVE──LHS. - - @hhmnya (resumen ｡｡ when his impulsive thoughts win.)

♥︎ ── anywhere but home. ( lhs ) ּ 𓂅 ⋆ 💋 - @chobunz (“i can give you all the exact same things he can, but a million times better,” or where a hot stranger makes it his promise to be the better choice than the man you came with.)

♥︎ { ☆ the power play ~ l.hs } - @evnseokz (office rival! heeseung x f.reader)

♥︎ ꣑୧ BAD DECISIONS : LEE HEESEUNG - @itsminjify (agent!heeseung x agent!reader)

[nanahachi3]

3 am | Riki Nishimura

Synopsis: Having sex at 3 am can be the best experience, but sleeping with your boyfriend for the first time on his bed might feel awkward.

Warning: kisses, make-out, fluff, suggestive

3 AM is such a weird time.

You’ve been tossing and turning on this unfamiliar mattress more times than you can count. It’s tough to fall asleep in a bed that isn’t yours. Lying next to Riki, your boyfriend for the past year, feels a bit strange too. He’s tall and handsome, with messy hair sprawled across his cold pillow, just staring at the ceiling and breathing heavily.

Outside, the rain is pouring down. The clouds have cleared a bit, letting the moonlight shine through and reflecting off the cold floor of his apartment.

You let out a sigh for the fifth time and steal a glance at Riki, who breaks into a smile when he sees you. You smile back as he opens his arms, inviting you to snuggle in closer. He sits up, and you shuffle over to settle yourself on his lap.

The blanket has been pushed to the side, and he’s wearing this loose black sweatshirt that slips down just enough to show a hint of his collarbone. You lick your dry lips, realizing it’s too late to head home after the party that wrapped up at midnight. Riki, being the overprotective boyfriend, wouldn’t let you leave alone, insisting that you stay safe at his place.

Now, sharing a bed feels a bit different since you’re his first girlfriend, and you two have only kissed and cuddled so far.

The rain starts gently, with drops creating a little pattern against the ground, but soon it turns into a steady downpour, soaking everything. The air inside feels cooler, but the sight of Riki’s tender smile warms you up. He leans in, calming the chill, and brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear with his fingers, sending a soft thrill through you.

“Feeling a bit cold?” he asks, his voice a bit rough but soothing.

You blush, feeling flustered by his gentle demeanour. “I am a little cold, but it’s okay now that I’m in your arms,” you reply, playing with the button on his shirt, caught between shyness and comfort.

“No, haha” HE kissed your lips softly once he started kissing you.

He also knows that he won't kiss you.

He has a habit of hugging you tighter. You moaned a little as his kisses started to get rougher. His arms were snaked around your Waist tightly, pulling you closer.

“You drive me crazy, baby”, He groaned as you pushed yourself closer to him, making him a bit wimpy.

It pains him how you were looking so beautiful And innocent on his lap.

Your hands were tugging his hair as he was shoving his tongue inside yours. It felt like You and his body would become one.

Your tongue touches his trying to match his pace.

The soft whimpers and groans spread around the room.

His hardness was rubbing against your clothed core. You felt a bit weird, which made you squirm. The hotness inside the room was increasing as the rain crashed against the pelt of the window. You continued kissing him.

The kisses started slow, but now their pace was increasing, and you were sure if nobody stopped this moment, your clothes would fly away, and you both would end up sleeping with each other in another way.

He left your lips and gave them a last peck before moving towards your neck and leaving the trail of kisses or the hickeys on them, which turned purple from red they were wet at first, but he was sucking your tongue, leaving his marks.

“Mine” he groaned and smirked against the skin of your neck.

Your legs were wrapped around his torso, and He Was pushing you closer. His hands were stopped at your shirt.

The air was a bit hotter now, and Riki's breath was getting heavier. Now he looked at you, asking you if he could unbutton Your shirt or not.

You gulped down the saliva and felt a blush creeping onto your cheeks. You opened your mouth to say something.

“You are So hot that I will let you make me Juno” You smiled and kissed his neck, leaving a hickey. He chuckled and tickled your side.

“Aren't you a getting a bit bold?” He laughed and kissed your jawline leaving more wet kisses.

“WHAT SHOULD I SAY 3 AM IS A STRANGE HOUR?” you shrugged your shoulders.

HE SMIRKED and brushed your hair kept his head on your shoulder.

“they also say that 3 am is the best hour for sex?”

Your eyes widened. You pulled away and pushed him away from the bed, making him fall on the bed. A thud sound Came.

He was whining and stroking his head.

You laughed and he pouted.

“NEXT TIME, RIKI, WHEN WE ARE OF PROPER AGE, WE ARE TOO YOUNG RIGHT NOW!”