#there’s no words to describe how much I loved and missed them

[satinroses]

Oh, I wouldn't say freed... More like, under new management!

Spoilers for 5.3 Natlan Archon Quest!

Yan!Pantalone x GN! Reader (x Yan!Capitano)

Summary: Having clawed his ways from the slums of Liyue Harbour to being seated at the table of a God, seizing opportunities has become Pantalone's second nature and now that the first harbinger is... indefinitely indisposed, what kind of banker would he be if he didn't capitalise on such a unique situation by finally stealing away Capitano's precious consort, the same one that has plaguing his every waking moment since the very moment he first laid eyes upon them?

Warnings: Sensitive themes, Yandere Behaviours, do you have stockholm syndrome or are you going mad from social isolation? your choice!, manipulation, social isolation, anxiety, you're all around not having a good time, mild nsfw implications, fearing for your life (not from Pantalone), losing the will to go on, you literally can't catch a break

3.5K Words

A/N: did i intend for the title to be a Megamind reference...? perchance... also please forgive any inconsistencies or grammatical errors. I have not yet finished the Natlan archon quest but I've seen the spoilers and i hope that fine ass man rests in peace. I'm still high on copium and am praying that because his body is still alive then Dottore can work his magic and fix him somehow someway (if that happens i may even write a part 2 in celebration! Or even if it doesn't!)

Anyone who knew anything about the first harbinger would be well aware of the reverence and tenderness he lavished onto you. Your safety and protection would forever be at the forefront of the harbingers mind, before retrieving the gnosis, or bringing glory to the Tsaritsa or even striking down the heavenly principles. As such it’s not unusual for the harbinger to keep you sequestered away in the dark, lonesome manor you have learnt to call home ever since your marriage. After several years it was now commonplace for Capitano to be gone for days and weeks at a time, hardly breathing a goodbye, just pressing one adoring and gentle kiss to the back of your hand and a second hot, gruff kiss to your lips before storming out of the door, blade sheathed on his belt. 

This time he had strayed from the established routine, Capitano had warned you that he might be gone for a bit longer than usual but he would return to your arms within a month. You remembered the silent voice in your head bitterly wishing that he would never return, how the heavenly principles love to play their cosmic jokes. 

After a month had passed and the letters from your husband (since you were wed he had made a point of writing you a detailed letter every single day, describing his journey and detailing how dearly he missed you and how everyday away from your side was utter agony) had stopped arriving. You had spent hours pouring over every letter he had sent since his departure but not once did he mention anything that could explain his sudden silence. That was the second thing that unnerved you, if there was one thing you had learnt through your several years of marriage to the first harbinger, it was that his loyalty and devotion was second to none. The idea that your ever loyal hound would stray from his routine was peculiar enough. Once another week had passed without any word from or about Capitano you began to pester the servants and guards for any information from the outside world but they refused to breathe a word to you. 

Although you publicly admitted you held much contempt for Capitano for prying you from your home, you couldn’t help the unease that seeped into your bones. You had spent countless mornings watching him train, the brute force and unrestrained power he used to slam his blade down into the frozen ground, the innumerable agents he dispatched with one measured swing of his sword and on rare occasion when you were close enough to danger to personally witness (a scarce occurrence as even leaving the estate was uncommon) how his onyx blade was stained with a viscous crimson inch or that seemed to seep everywhere, even sticking to the fur of his cloak. When he pulled you into his chest after the fighting was done you’ll never forget how sickening the coppery scent was, clinging to the inside of your nose until you felt like you were suffocating on it. That combined with the utter love-sick devotion he had proven himself a slave to, you found the idea that anything could prevent Capitano from writing other than death to be utterly humorous. Somehow despite the hatred you harboured in your heart for the man, the idea of a man of Capitano’s impossibly imposing stature somehow being struck down felt impossible, even if it was the pyro archon herself to do so. You simply refused to entertain such an idea. That night you had come to a conclusion: There has been a mix up! or the messenger was attacked on the road! or maybe Capitano's letters slipped right out of the messengers pack and he simply hasn't realised. You repeated these mantras to yourself compulsively.

But as the weeks continued to amble on by with no word from your husband you couldn’t help but find that a more extreme reason to be the only excuse for his sudden silence.

As you spent days pondering on the possibility of your captor’s passing, the idea that any day now a Fatui official would wander in and give you an official declaration of Capitano’s passing and would send you on your way with perhaps a pouch of Mora for your troubles. The more you fantasised about your freedom being returned to you, the more you realised how unlikely such an occurrence was. That morning you had been nothing short if giddy, any day now you would be free to return to your family and you could pretend these past years were nothing short of a bad dream - by evening your joy had turned to ash in your throat. If your husband (even after several years of calling him that, it still caused your throat to constrict painfully as though the very word was poison) had truly been defeated then you had become nothing to the Fatui but another loose end to tie up. There was no way they could know for sure just how much information regarding the sensitive inner workings of the Fatui that Capitano had shared with you. There was no way they would let you wander free when you were a living, breathing compromise to all their plans. Even in the event of his death, you shall be returned to his arms soon enough. You couldn’t stop an overwhelming feeling of defeat swallow you like a wave as the realisation hit you that nothing would bring Capitano greater joy.

After several weeks of agonising suspense you had debased yourself to pleading with the servants and guards for even just a rumour of what was to become of you. Again, they showed you nothing but cold indifference as they continued their tasks, completely unaffected by your desperate pleas.

Your feet bled from the constant pacing as your mind was utterly consumed with anxiety. The unknown and the terror of what was to come had driven you half mad with unease. All day you wept for how unfairly your life would end, never truly getting to live before your life was stripped from you. All night you didn’t dare get even a wink of sleep for fear one of the guards would slip into your chambers and finally put an end to you. Your mind had endlessly ran through every possibility of escape but it seemed just as impossible as it had before, if not more so. You weren’t sure if the isolation and fear was finally taking complete control but you were almost certain there were more guards surrounding the estate now then there had been prior to Capitano’s departure.

That night you sat on the floor of your chambers, hunched over your bed as you wept into the thick duvet for even a brief illusion of comfort. Your hands were clasped tightly together in prayer, crimson crescents marring your hands with the frantic devotion you called out to your Goddess. Sobbing into the bedsheets you called aloud for the Tsaritsa, beseeching her to take some mercy on her devoted follower and either return Capitano to you safely or offer you a quick and clean death and put an end to this torment for you couldn't bare another day of it.

For the first time in days and after hours of desperate cries for your goddess to extend you some of her benevolence, you slipped into an uneasy slumber, half expecting to wake up to a blade to your throat yet you had lost the will to endure. As the sun rose you were awoken by the distinct noise of the main doors slamming shut as heavy footsteps strode into the Grand Foyer. Breathlessly you rose to your feet, certain that the Tsaritsa had heard your prayed and returned your husband to you. You scrambled as fast as you could down the winding corridors, paying no mind to how your limbs were trembling with adrenaline or the rumpled nightclothes you were still dressed in. As you burst through the door you skidded to a halt on the polished marble floors. Instead of being greeted by Capitano’s open embrace, ready to sweep you into his arms now that you were finally reunited, your eyes instead landed upon the ninth harbinger who now stood just a few feet in front of you, his gloved hands clasped tightly behind his back as he gave you what appeared to be an attempt at a genuine smile. 

You froze. In your relief at the possibility of Capitano’s return you hadn’t even registered this as an outcome. You had only met Pantalone perhaps once before, at your wedding a few years prior. That had been the only day Capitano had permitted you to be around any of colleagues. What was already no doubt an uncomfortable event for all involved but the groom had only been exacerbated by the eccentric personalities seated in the audience. You had sobbed the entire way through the ceremony with two Fatui soldiers having to grip onto your arms and practically force you down the aisle. At the very least the 11th harbinger had the decency to look genuinely concerned as you were dragged down the aisle. You had half thought the man might attempt to put a stop to it but when the time came to ask for objections not one person came forward. After the ceremony you could also recall an interaction with the knave. Although the whole day had been a blur, you remembered that she briefly took you aside and sternly forced her handkerchief into your hand, refusing to take no for an answer. You wouldn’t exactly call the woman doting but whatever small sympathy the woman was capable of, it’s clear she had attempted to extend them to you. You had spent many nights after the ceremony thinking back on your interactions with all the harbingers, Pierro and Pulcinella’s cold indifference at the ceremony, Sandrone and Dottore’s impatience to leave as quickly as socially acceptable to return to whatever invention or experiment had currently caught their attention, the varying looks of pity you received from Tartaglia, Arlecchino and La Signora, the quiet smile on Columbina’s face and… the one harbinger you just couldn’t get a read on. Pantalone had turned to watch as you were forced down the aisle and his eyes had not left you once since. Even as the festivities had begun and Capitano had whirled your reluctant form across the crystalline ballroom of Zapolyarny Palace, his eyes didn’t once move from you. Now you were feet away from him and his eyes enclosed around you once more, fixated so wholly on you as though nothing else in the world could or would ever matter even remotely as much as you did in this moment.

Your breath hitched as he sauntered closer, removing his finely crafted leather gloves from his hands. You shut your eyes at once, although you could no longer see him, you could hear the clicks of his shoes echoing through the foyer and getting closer. Once he was but a few inches away from you, you tensed your shoulders to brace for impact but it never came. You couldn’t help but flinch as you felt both his hands clasp firmly down on your shoulders, holding you in place. After several seconds you finally allowed your eyes to flutter open. Pantalone’s eyes bored into yours as he tutted with what was likely an attempt to display sympathy but instead came off as patronising.

”Now now” he breathed out, his hands now began to rub up and down your shoulders in soothing motions “There’s no need to look so frightened” he exhaled, almost sounding amused.

”Where is Capitano?” you asked. You hardly recognised your own voice with how hoarse it had become from the past weeks of weeping.

”Shh shh shh” he muttered, his hands moving from your shoulders, up to your cheeks. He cupped your face affectionately as he spoke in a gentle tone as though afraid the slightest upset might frighten you off. With a deep sigh he began “I’m afraid Capitano is occupied… indefinitely. No matter how dearly I’m sure he would wish to see you, I’m afraid you won’t be reunited for a long time yet.”  He paused for a moment, his gaze darting across your face for any idea of your internal workings. His stare was bright and brilliant, even when hidden behind the glasses that sat firmly on the bridge of his nose. He made you feel exposed, as though every second under his stare he stripped away a little more of your walls. He left you feeling bare and cold, you wanted to shrink away from the ninth harbinger. He had told you what you needed to hear and now you wanted to sink back into the depths of the manor and await whatever fate had in store for you, as long as it was far away from him. After another moment of his assessment he seemed satisfied and continued

”It’s with a heavy heart that I bring the news that the mission to acquire the Pyro Archon’s gnosis was not successful” his tone was one of deep sorrow however you could see the tiniest ghost of a smirk dancing across his face as his attempted to maintain composure. “Of course I am delegating as much funding as financially possible to restore your husband however I’m afraid the damage was quite extensive, It’s unlikely that even with the unparalleled scientific minds in the Fatui that we will ever be able to return him to you.”

Once again your heart began to patter against your ribcage. If what Pantalone said was true then you truly were a liability. You cleared your throat and took a deep breath before you spoke, desperate to at least maintain a façade of dignity in the face of such dire circumstances

”Have you come here to kill me then?” You asked him. In response the harbingers eyebrows shot up almost comically, for the first time this morning he looked completely astounded.

”Kill you? Now why ever would I do that?” His hands were still planted firmly on your cheeks, his cool skin soothing on the heat on your cheeks as his thumb tenderly traced the tear tracks that were still emblazoned on your cheeks from your night of sorrowful prayer. He hummed contentedly before continuing, “admittedly there were a few of my colleagues that had suggested to wash our hands of you entirely and slip some arsenic in your food or simply have one of the soldiers stick a blade through your heart” He paused again, assessing you. He could almost feel your breath hitch as he inched slightly closer, his thumb now tracing idle patterns on your cheeks “don’t worry my dear, I shut down such discussions swiftly. I would never wish to have the blood of someone so lovely on my hands. No, that wouldn’t do at all” Now he let a full grin fall across his face. You believe he was attempting to make it comforting but instead it felt predatory, like a lion grinning down at a lamb. “My colleagues and I have thankfully come to a compromise. Although I’m certain you would never run and spill any secrets you may have learnt from your time in such close proximity to Capitano… unfortunately several of my fellow harbingers didn’t feel quite so confident in your loyalty.” One of his hands now reached to brush through your hair gently, his grin grew until he was baring all his teeth at you. Now he didn’t just feel like a lion, he looked like one too “For the foreseeable future you will be taking up residence at my estate. Please don’t fret my lady, I’ll ensure you are well looked after.” His watched you expectantly, as though he believed this to be wonderful news for you. You stared at him blankly. Last night you had prayed to the Tsaritsa for your husband returned home or death but it would appear she had managed to present you with a 3rd, much more terrifying option. Although he may not be quite as physically imposing as Capitano, he somehow made you feel much smaller. Every shared touch and exchanged glance with Pantalone felt intimate and expectant, every brief glance at your lips was a promise of something more to come, every tender caress a precursor for a carnal embrace. Even now he seemed half shocked you hadn’t jumped into his arms in glee at the news you would now be staying with him. Of course you were thankful that he had intervened on your behalf and given you another chance at life but a more animalistic and instinctual part of you as you stood here alone with Pantalone you almost would have preferred being left in this dark, reclusive manor to rot. Capitano took so much from you but he left you your dignity, your sense of personhood, despite his desire to take and take until there was nothing left, he had always strove to be selfless for your sake. With a man like Pantalone, even now with his grip on your face, deceptively light but the muscles in his fingers were tense, ready to clamp down the moment he deemed in necessary. From what little you knew of Pantalone from Capitano’s descriptions, he was the head of the Northland bank and had built himself an immeasurable amount of wealth. Did Pantalone know when you've taken too much from someone? Did he care?

Part of you wished to pry his hands off your cheeks and flat out refuse him, scream out that you want nothing to do with him and flee back to you bed chambers like a child but unfortunately the rational part of you took over, the part of you that was screaming at you to seize this last chance at life he was offering you and so when he extended his hand to you and whispered into your ear in a saccharine tone “Shall we?” You couldn’t help but accept.

Pantalone's POV:

The carriage ride back to his estate wasn't long but he had given his driver instructions to extend it for as long as possible. You seemed bewildered when he sat right by your side, thigh to thigh, instead of sitting across from you. His arms wrapped tightly around your shoulder, constricting you to his side like a serpent. You were sat close enough to his side that he could smell the saccharine smell that emanated from you.

Since the moment he first saw you he had known that there was no one else in the world for him but you. Every single night since he saw you, he couldn't sleep with the extremity of his yearning. It was indescribable agony to know that you were laying in the bed of the First harbinger. Innumerable priceless artefacts and artworks had been destroyed in his rage at the thought of you being by that undeserving wretches' side. Now having you so close after yearning and longing for countless years, it was a high unlike anything else. Feeling your skin against his, you were so close that he could almost feel your warm breath on his skin, it took every scrap of restraint in his body to not begin to ravage you the moment the carriage door shut.

He knew he could never challenge his fellow harbinger publicly, especially not one so revered as Capitano and he knew where his strengths lied. If it came down to a duel then there was a slim chance he would succeed.

However as he matured from a street urchin to the wealthiest man in Snezhnaya, he had learnt that if you cannot beat them at their own game then simply don't play it. It had taken several years of calling in favours, pulling countless strings and funding dozens of failed experiments and dead-end expeditions in order to convince his fellow harbingers that it would be best if Capitano faced the pyro archon alone.

Of course he didn't receive the news of Capitano's supposed immortality well but it doesn't matter that he is still breathing. He may as well be a corpse at this point. He's sure that by passing the funding for a few more of Dottore's experiments then he can convince him to put the matter of restoring Capitano's soul on the back burner.

He had come to terms with how risky this plan was the moment he first set it into place several years ago but he has formed his entire career on a succession of flawlessly executed gambles. His entire life he has been beating the odds and he's not going to stop now that the recently widowed object of his adoration and obsession sits a mere inch away, still draped in nothing but their thin night clothes.

He will admit that perhaps it was cruel to keep you waiting all those weeks, he should have come to collect you the moment the news reached him of Capitano's failure but when he saw the frantic, desperate look in your eyes as you burst into the room, he knew that he had made the right call. You weren't in the position to deny him anything now. He could finally rest easy knowing you were seated right in the palm of his hand, exactly where you belonged.

[wemalyri]

could you do enhypen reaction to ur self harm ?? I loved ur last post

pairing: hyungline!enhypen × gn!reader genre: angst, hurt/comfort warnings: feeling guilty, obv self-harm, brief description of negative feelings and thoughts + personal tw for each member w/c: 640+ a/n: thank you for your request!! sorry that it took me SO long(( (it's been in my drafts since august just so yk :/)e also I did only hyung line I hope you don't mind. I tried to mention and describe different reasons and situations. some members include sad endings and feeling of hopelessness. I know that if you're deep down in this even words of your loved ones might not help. if you have this problem pls remember that you're not alone( take care of yourself properly! also sunghoon one is kinds crazy, sorry for that !!! likes and reposts are welcomed !!!

Heeseung

tw: comparison to others, jealousy, toxic perfectionism

You hadn’t seen each other for a few months. The reason of it was Heeseung’s job. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t stay with you all of the time. Three months of tour felt like eternity. However, it was finally over and now you could see each other again. Heeseung promised you to come over as soon as possible but you didn’t expect him to do it so fast. Forgetting yourself, you ran to the front door and opened it with a bright smile. Heeseung immediately hugged you, holding you tight. His hand held your head, burying your face in his chest. “Gosh I missed you so much…” He inhaled your scent with a loud sound. “You smell like home.”

You playfully giggled and pecked his lips, looking at him. He pulled away to explore your appearance with a smile, but it immediately faded as his gaze fixed on your thighs. “Y/n…” He whispered with fear, not believing his own eyes. 

Upper side of your legs were covered in scars, recent ones. You absolutely forgot to cover them, too excited to meet your boyfriend. 

Yes, Heeseung was perfect for you but that only made your self-esteem worse. You always thought he was too good for you, you never were on the same level. Heeseung wasn’t just an idol, he was a goddamn ‘ace’. Perfect at everything, you never noticed his bad habits, selfish thoughts or actions. He was like an angel fallen from heaven, someone who would never match you. This is what you thought. And when he left on tour you knew he wouldn’t be able to control or see new scars if you left them. Every time you got jealous, you would blame yourself for this feeling, making your mental statement even worse. Negative feelings were too much to handle but you were too embarrassed and ashamed to share them with Heeseung, knowing pretty well that even his sweetest words wouldn’t help you. This is how you found a way to express everything you felt, punishing yourself for not being flawless.

Your eyes looked down, searching for a reason of Heeseung’s worried expression. When you saw your scars, you felt ashamed and guilty. 

“It’s nothing.” you answered, trying to sound casual.

“It doesn’t look like nothing.” Heeseung’s tone of voice was serious. It felt like you had never seen him with such an expression. His eyes met yours and you could see a deep worry and hurt in them. “Why have you done that?..”

You felt guilty. You didn’t want to hurt him with your words but you didn’t want to lie to him at the same time. “I…didn’t feel well.” The reason you named sounded so stupid that a sense of shame washed over you.

Heeseung’s expression didn’t change. It seemed like your words didn’t convince him at all. “You could call me… text me… anything but not that.” 

“I didn’t want to bother you. You have a busy schedule, I don’t want to wear you out even more.” 

“Y/n… It wouldn’t hurt me as much as this.” You went silent for a second, biting your lip.

“I didn’t want to complain to you, okay?” It felt like you didn’t understand each other at all.

“Baby, that’s not complaining when you tell me about your feelings. That’s normal. I’m your boyfriend, you don’t trust me enough to share your thoughts?” You didn’t say anything as tears welled up in your eyes. Heeseung immediately stepped closer, pulling you to him. Your hands wrapped around his waist, holding onto him as the last hope. He pecked your head, whispering. “Tell me when you don’t feel well next time, okay?” You slightly nodded, thinking that maybe it will help you to go through this. At least, you decided to give it a try.

Jay

tw: ED, fatshaming (reader to themselves)

Jay is the best cook you've ever known and everyone always says that they're jealous of your luck. Your boyfriend cooks for you everyday, he never fails to make sure you're eating well even when he's tired. However, for you personally this obsession with good meals never was for the best. Your relationship with your body never was the simplest one and even though Jay and you dated for a while, you managed to hide it from him. However, at the last time something went wrong and your boyfriend started noticing what attitude you actually had to food.

One day you were having a meal at your apartment and of course Jay cooked. Again. Sitting next to your boyfriend, you were picking at food. 

“Is something wrong? You don't like it?” Jay asked, looking at you through his eyelashes with concern. 

“No, everything's fine. Just not hungry.” You managed to say, trying to sound casual. Jay's eyebrows frowned and he pulled chopsticks away. 

“Are you sure? You haven't been eating well lately.” This question suddenly made you annoyed. You didn't want someone to talk about your eating problems, so you tried to change the topic. 

“Just not hungry.” The same words left your mouth and it made Jay confused even more. Something definitely was wrong and he just couldn't understand what exactly. 

“Y/n, I know something is wrong. Don't try to hide it from me.” Jay's tone was serious and it only irritated you even more. 

“I said I was fine!” You striked the table, that made your sleeves of shirt roll up and show off your scars. Jay looked at your wrists and his sight immediately catched those parts of skin you were hiding from him. Fresh scars were relieved for his eyes, blooming on your hands. 

“Y/n, your hands…” Jay spoke quietly in disbelief. Your eyes immediately widened in realization. He saw them.

You rolled down your sleeves, hiding marks of the hatred to your body, eyes looking down.

“How long ago did you make it?” Jay asked seriously, clenching his fists. He didn't hear an answer from you. “Why?..” For a minute that you were staying silent, a lot of different thoughts ran through his head. Weren’t you happy with him? Was he a bad boyfriend? Why did you hide it?

“Jay, it's not your fault.” His flaw of thoughts was ruined by your quiet voice. “It's just… me.”

He absolutely didn't understand. His eyes looked into yours with desire for more explanation. He was begging you to talk about it. 

“I-I don't like myself. My body. And I feel even worse every time you try to feed me. I'm fat. I can't let myself eat that much.”

Of course, he was so stupid all of this time. You had always been eating purely. Once he even noticed you judgingly looking at yourself in the mirror. And he did nothing.

“Gosh, I'm so stupid…” Jay hid his face in his hands, rubbing the forehead, trying not to bunch his head under the table. 

“No, you're not. I never talked about it. You were just being a good caring boyfriend.” You saw how awful he felt and it made you feel guilty. 

He quickly stood up from his place and you could see his watered eyes, when he slipped his hands away from his face. He approached you, gently pulling your wrist to the side to examine you. “Did you hurt yourself anywhere else? Are there any more scars?” 

“No, Jay.” You settled him down with your voice but he didn’t seem to believe you. “Really. That’s all.”

Jay slightly sighed, closing his eyes. “Listen, I’m sorry.” You stood up and placed your hand on his shoulder, feeling even more guilty. 

“You shouldn’t apologize to me. You should apologize to yourself.” Jay looked mad but this expression on his face was actually hiding his concern. He looked at you and was met with your sad puppy eyes that made him want to hug you. His hands pulled you to him and he pressed his lips to your head. 

“I know…” You mumbled into his chest. “I just can't. I don't want to.”

“Baby… do you hate yourself that much?” Jay asked looking into your eyes when he lifted your chin up. Your eyes watered, giving him a clear answer. “I'm sorry…” He whispered. “I'll make sure you'll love yourself.”

You slightly shook your head in resistance but didn't say anything, ran out of energy. Jay patted your head, kissing your forehead, and while looking into his eyes full of love you thought that maybe he will keep his words. 

Jake

tw: reader can’t express their feelings, bad experience in sharing problems

Jake always was clingy towards you but it never was the problem. His hands almost always were wrapped around you, no matter if you were in public or not, you would feel his touch on your back or shoulder.

One day you had a movie-night and Jake was clinging onto you as usual. Wrapping hands around you, laying his head on your thighs, caressing your skin, he almost touched your recent scars that were covering your shoulder. Everytime Jake moved or shivered you would slightly flinch, avoiding contact between his hands and your scars under the shirt. 

Suddenly, your boyfriend pulled away from your thighs, holding onto your shoulder and you immediately gasped. “Ouch!”

Jake looked at you with worried eyes, pulling his hand away and holding it in the air. “Sorry! Did I grip too hard?”

You sighed, looking at him. “Yeah, a bit harsh. But it's okay.” Jake's gaze switched to your shoulder, covered with a shirt. He slightly pulled your sleeve up. “I'm sorry… There might be a bruise now. Let me look.” You immediately flinched from him. He didn't have to know about your scars. 

“No, it's okay.” Jake's eyes switched to your face with worry. 

“Baby, I'll just look…” He gently placed his hand on yours and you looked away, giving up. You knew he wouldn't leave you alone. Insisting would only cause more questions. 

Jake's fingers slowly pulled your sleeve up and his eyes widened. “Baby… what is that?..” Now he could see your recent scars that were blooming on your skin. 

There wasn't a certain reason why you did that. Sometimes negative feelings were too much to cope with and you, the person who had never been learnt how to take care of yourself and let your emotions out, would express everything, hurting yourself. You knew it was wrong but the thought of sharing your feelings with someone was too strange. Of course, you had tried. But it always ended the same. People would say you complain a lot and you would shut up, regretting letting out true feelings. But this time it was Jake. Jake who was your boyfriend, Jake who would never let himself hurt you. 

Your eyes watered with a feeling of despair but you didn't dare to meet his gaze. Awkward silence took the air away, not letting to breathe. However, tension in the room suddenly disappeared with Jake's gentle voice. “Hey…” His fingers tilted your chin up. Jake’s worried eyes met watered yours. “Where are they from?..” 

He looked so genuinely concerned that you couldn’t confess you were the one who did that with yourself. You bit your bottom lip, holding tears that started welling up in your eyes. There was no response. Jake started realising what your silent answer meant and his world faded away.

“It wasn’t you, right?..” he whispered, scared of his own words “You wouldn’t do that to yourself?…” Silence was making Jake go insane and he called you by your name. 

“Y/n?..” his hands held your, slightly squeezing them “Please, say something. I won;t judge you, I swear.”

You looked in the corner of the room quietly saying only a few words “That was me.”

Jake’s jaw clenched but he managed to ask “Why?..”

“I don’t know… I wasn’t… feeling well…” your voice was slightly shaky. Jake leaned close to you, making sure you could see everything in his eyes. 

“You have me. You can always share with me, you know that, right?” 

“I don’t want to complain to you. You don’t know what you’re signing up for.” you warned him, recalling your past experiences. 

“I don’t care. I want to make sure I’m doing the best I can to make you happy.” Jake saw your slight smile and leaned even closer to peck your lips before wrapping hands around you and whispering in your ear “Can you do that for me? Next time you feel bad… Tell me, scream at me, yell at me. As much as you need until you get rid of wanting to hurt yourself.” 

You caressed his hair pulling him closer and whispering “I love you, Jake.”He smiled, replying with the same soft words “I love you too.”

Sunghoon 

tw: self-harm in details, blood, low self-esteem, anxiety, jealousy, reader has REAL mental problems… (this one is crazy fr)

You knew Sunghoon pretty well as much as the fact that he only seemed to be cold. When you first met him, you thought he hated you for something or just didn’t like you, but after a while you found out you were wrong. Because of his cold appearance it’s hard to say what he’s feeling or thinking about. Still, you’ve loved him the way he is. However, your anxiety and self-esteem suffered the most in your relationship. Not because Sunghoon was too cold, but because you were afraid of doing or saying something wrong. Mental problems and fears took control of you and sometimes it led to hurting yourself. 

Sunghoon went out with friends. You were absolutely fine with that until it started being late and stars covered the dark sky. Sunghoon didn’t answer your calls, didn’t reply to your messages and you started worrying too much. Was he with other girls? Did he lie to you about his feelings? 

Minutes with these thoughts and attempts to call him again and you already found yourself in the bathroom with a blade in your hands. Fear of losing Sunghoon and hatred to yourself led you towards irrecoverable actions.

Consumed by your feelings, you didn’t notice the sound of unlocking door and footsteps of your boyfriend. He was surprised by not seeing you greeting him in the hallway and suggested you were sleeping. As Sunghoon carefully headed towards the bathroom he stood still in the doorframe, seeing you with bloody hands sitting on the cold tile. His eyes widened in fear and he ran to you, holding your shoulders and turning you to him.

“Y/n! Are you here? Do you hear me?” he enquired with fear slightly shaking you. 

Your eyes shoot opened “Hoon? What are you doing here?” 

“What do you mean? I came home as usual. What’s happened?..” he looked over you with worried eyes “We need to take you to the hospital.” 

Sunghoon started lifting you up but you stopped him lightly tapping his shoulder. 

“No… It’s okay…” You weakly smiled, tears on your cheeks becoming dry.

“It’s not okay. Your wrists are literally bleeding…” You could tell he was trying his hardest to stay calm but hysterical notes in his voice were telling the opposite. Sunghoon laid you on the bed and called the ambulance with shaky hands.When the call ended the room went silent. 

“We need to stop your… blood first” He hurried to the bathroom for some bandage to negligently stop your blood. Fortunately, cuts weren’t deep.

“I thought you wouldn’t come…” you mumbled watching Sunghoon treating your wounds.

Sunghoon looked at you with confusion “Why did you do that?.. I don’t understand…” His voice was quiet, your heart breaking into million pieces. 

“I’m sorry…” you whispered reaching for his cheek. “I thought… I thought you lied to me. You weren’t answering my texts and calls…” Your thumb slowly caressed his skin, wiping away a lonely tear that escaped from his watering eyes. Sunghoon gently took another hand of yours in his, rubbing the knuckles.

“My phone was discharged…” 

Oh. That was so stupid of you. How could you overreact so much?..

“Oh… I didn’t think about that…” The room went silent again. 

“Y/n, please… I’m begging you. Never do that again. Okay?..” Sunghoon’s pleading voice broke the silence. You hesitated before slowly nodding. “I don’t want to lose you like that.”

Your eyes watered, you started realising your mistake and what you did, what could happen. “I’m sorry, Hoon… I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The room was suddenly filled with a syren of the ambulance that flew from the opened window.

[blitz0hno]

Let's be real. Realistically, every time we see Mikoto it might as well be a different alter.

Does that make for an easy-to-follow narrative? No. Is it what the authors intended? Not likely, but also this is a game all based around perception and life experiences.

"Mikoto" and "John" as we know them are functionally made up by the audience (and thus Es) for narrative flow. Just like how ppl w DID irl are generally assumed to be "themselves," as in their body's name/main identity. Whether you're singlet or plural, the "you" in someone else's mind is a tiny piece even to your closest people. They see you through a special lens all their own, and these interpretations reveal more about the viewer than anything (not that that is a "bad" thing; it just is). Every individual consciousness is a different lens. You really can't know shit about any system unless you ask within the system, even w alters in your own brain. Mikoto hasn't had enough time to process his different parts yet, so it's wholly ambiguous.

Oblivious as we are, we've noticed a bit of friction surrounding how people view Kayanosys and tbh it makes us kinda sad; but the subject matter is touchy, so it's understandable. In my humble opinion, while they give us many clues as to "who's who," it's all still purely hypothetical. And it's fun to guess and theorize and even make shit up! You wouldn't do it to a real system but Milgram is not real; all respectful interpretations of 09 are valid in my book.

Personally I like the idea that he has more alters than just who we see, and I like interpretations of Mikoto/John/Kataboku as their own people. I also like completely ambiguous interpretations, and everything in-between bc if we wanna be Really Realistic, there's no end to the possibilities whatsoever, especially with as little info as we have so far.

This makes writing him So Difficult for me, but it only adds all the more layers to why I love these characters so much. I am so so sick of being a system sometimes, but it's a complex worldview that few experience and even fewer fully grasp. Plurality deserves to be talked about openly and with patience, and I couldn't be happier that Milgram even dares talk about them to such a large audience.

The reasons to talk about these things, after all, won't go away even if we do stop talking about them. I'm not gonna say "it all happens for a reason," but we certainly have words to describe such experiences for many reasons. I feel like we all need to stop being afraid of not fully understanding things. I certainly don't understand a lot, but I understand a small handful of things that many do not. Sharing helps us understand more, even if we miss the mark sometimes.

Idk. I love Mikoto and I love our little mikotoverse on tumblr dot com, that is all.

[nympippi]

✨✨✨

[the-kipsabian]

i will legitimately be thinking about this game for years to come

[todayisafridaynight]

HAVE BEEN ROTATING Y7 ARAKAWA IN RGGO ARAKAWA'S DRIP IN MY MIND FOR AEONS YOU SEE THE VISION....................

Listen. I think. I think it would work. I think we could've still won. The physics probably would've been a pain, but if I think about it as an echo of the red iin his costuming in the play at the start, and link it back to how the plot of the play comes to represent part of his life, it would [unintelligible]

But no for real, the sliver you can see of the snakeskin on Jo and the fact it's the lightest thing you can see on his whole outfit feels purposeful. It's still incredibly funny to me that whole thing was treated as a twist at all. But.

And the progression on account of the timeskip is sick too from a symbolic perspective. It's things like the 2019 tie having the exact same pattern as in 2000, but it's also now the only real color in his entire ensemble, the purple from his shirt relegated to the tie and the pink completely gone. Hanging on to the past (although I guess this is more RGGJo's thing), forcing his "self" into a smaller and smaller space, that kind of thing. If we go with Sololiquy for a moment, maybe there's also something there about things being livelier when Ichi was around, for better or worse.

All the leather is ostensibly much more luxurious, befitting of his rise in status, but it's also burying him further in these additional layers of security. The gloves DO pull it together, and they also leave him basically completely covered-up from head to toe, which I can't help find fascinating.

So, you know, he looks sick with the gloves on, but there's also a different Flavor when recognizing he had them on the first battle when he was hiding so much from Ichi, but in the second battle, where he hopes to come clean, he's bare-handed ("Ichi-vision" notwithstanding).

And I think it's also worth recognizing that the gloves would've offered some protection when he went to grab the blade, but he grabs it anyway in his bare hand. With the amount of force you apply when you swing a blade and it actually connects, that'd hurt him just as bad, but it shows he's past the point of caring about what happens to him even before he says so. (I still think we should've probably seen his hand cut and bleeding when out of Ichi-vision, but y'know.)

Much to think about...

NO I SEE YOUR VISION I SEE WHERE YOU'RE GOING they could've done that.... true the physics would've been a pain but I think we can trade some of the effort that went into The Bread and put it towards the scarf and coat.....

The evolution of Jo's outfit in conjunction with the surrounding environment and circumstances really is mad interesting, and as someone who really enjoys 'storytelling' (idk if that's the exact word rn but i aint ever been good with words in the first place) through character design/wardrobe. Any note I coulda said you've already said for me, yet I still wish I had some more words to express how much I love the changes in his outfit and how it reflects himself and the story at that particular point 😷

[maeribee]

The sillies for valentines day!! 💖💕💘💖💕💘

[luveline]

Jade can I please get a chatty af yapper sunshine girlfriend with Sirius?? Like May be someone tells her she talks a lot so she's super quiet around him cuz she's worried he'll get annoyed and break up with her but poor Sirius he misses his chatty girl and just angst with fluff

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k

James Potter means well. Honestly, you don’t think he has a mean bone in his body, so you try not to take it to heart. 

Unfortunately, your attempts to do so don’t work. They really, unquestionably don’t. By the time you’re outside of Sirius’ flat that afternoon, James’ small comment is all you can think of. 

“You’re so chatty I’m surprised you don’t run out of breath,” he’d said. Not without love. You’d bumped into him in Sainsbury’s and ended up talking for ages about one thing or another, you know him well, you’d even say you were friends, though he’s of course Sirius’ friend rather than your own. “But I’m the same. God, Sirius used to hate how much I talked, he’d be sick of me. I think I numbed him to it over the years.” 

You can’t imagine it. Sirius and James are best friends. With Remus, they’re the most in love threesome of friends you’ve ever met, and it’s nice; it makes you very proud to have a boyfriend who cares for others as deeply as Sirius cares for them. It’s like a constant demonstration of how he’s a good man. 

But you’d never stopped to consider that they weren’t always so seamless, and you’ve regrettably never considered that your constant talking is something that could put him off. 

You talk to Sirius about everything. There isn’t a word to describe the excitement of having someone waiting to listen to you every single night. You could tell him every detail of a day down to what colour socks you wore and you know he’ll sit there listening with his hand on the small of your back, or his fingers twined between yours. You’ve never felt so loved as to be able to just talk about everything and have him talk back. 

But… what if, this whole time, he’s been wishing for a little bit of quiet? 

What if eventually, the talking becomes too much? 

He must be with you for a reason. You aren’t holding the poor guy hostage, he acts like he’s mad for you ninety percent of the time (while the other ten percent is spent sleeping on your shoulder). 

Like now —you knock his door and you can hear him scrambling up from the sofa, the sound of a book dislodged or a remote hitting the rug, you’re not sure. The door yanks open and Sirius smiles at you, pulling you in through the gap with a familiar hand on your hip. 

“Hey,” Sirius says, tucking you against his side, “hey, did you get lovelier over the weekend?” He shoves the door closed and gives you a hug with one arm, pausing in the hall. “Sorry I couldn’t see you. I don’t think we should miss another weekend.” 

You have a lot to tell him. It’s been ages since you spent nearly three days apart, but James’ conversation stays at the front of your mind. 

You decide to be less overwhelming, but not less loving, curling your arm behind his head to pull his cheek down for a kiss. “I don’t think so, either.” 

Sirius tilts his head away from you in an invitation for more kissing. 

You’re at home in his flat. You take off your shoes and hang up your jacket. You change into a pair of jogging bottoms with loose legs and let him hoist you onto his bed for a few stolen kisses, though he isn’t propositioning you, and you end up laying across his bedspread with one of your legs in his lap as he tells you about his days without you, his thumb sliding with pressure down your calf. 

“Mostly I wished I’d asked you to come over anyways, even if it was just to sleep together at the end of the day. Maybe next time we can do that?” he asks. 

“Of course we can.” You smile at him indulgently. “I’d come over for twenty minutes if it was all I could get.” 

“Or I can come to you,” he says, “even if it’s just twenty minutes.” 

He smiles, a beaming thing, and leans down slowly for a soft kiss. 

“So,” he asks, his breath on your lips, “how was your weekend? Lonely?” 

“So lonely,” you tease lightly, eyes fluttering closed as he continues his massaging of your leg. “But it was okay. I missed you, really, and didn’t do much else.”

“No?” he asks. 

Your voice takes on a shine as he squeezes your knee, “Missed your hands.”  

“I missed your everything.” He grabs for your forearms and pulls you into a sitting position. “But everything was okay?” he asks more seriously. 

“Everything was fine.” 

He raises his eyebrows, but eventually lets them relax. “Well, okay. Good, sweetheart, I’m glad it was okay.” 

He persuades you into the kitchen to sit with him as he makes dinner, refusing to let you help, and yet insisting you be there in the same room, as though you’d like to be anywhere else. Sirius makes your favourite of his usual rotation, offering you spoonfuls for tasting, gaps of silence stretching as he struggles to find new conversation. You start answering his questions but remember time and time again that Sirius could become totally sick of you. He might already be. 

Sirius puts the food on a low heat and washes his hands. He wipes them dry, but when he takes your face, dampness lines the inside of his fingers. 

“I’d like for you to tell me what’s wrong,” he says gently, stroking at the line of your startled frown, “before it gets worse. Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Please don’t, lovely. If I’ve done something wrong, please tell me. I want us to last forever, and we can’t do that if you won’t tell me when I upset you.” 

“It wasn’t you,” you say instinctively, then regret it. 

“So someone has?” he asks, still so gentle as his hands coast down your neck like he’s sculpting you, coming to rest on the slopes leading to your shoulders. “You can tell me anything. You don’t have to keep it to yourself… please.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Sweetheart.” He frowns deeply. Couldn’t look more upset. “Of course I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

You chew it over, not wanting or willing to cause ructions between Sirius and his oldest friend. “Well, I saw James today at the shop, and… we were talking about you…” 

He waits. “And?” 

“And he told me you– you don’t like talking. That you didn’t like talking, that James used to make you sick of it. So I know I talk too much and you’ve never made me feel like I shouldn’t, but I guess I got into my head thinking you’d get sick of me, too.” 

“When we were younger I didn’t like much of anything.” He curls an arm behind your neck to hold you in place, but it’s not a dominant sort of movement, only protective as your noses inch together. “Did you ever read that poem by Bukwoski? Let It Enfold You?” 

“What?” 

“I’m not very good at explaining myself. I thought if you knew the poem, you’d–” He laughs near your cheek. “I hated everything. It wasn’t James’ fault. He did make me sick of it sometimes, but I just wanted to hide from everything.” He breathes out slowly. “I’ve never wanted to hide from you. I can’t get sick of you. Do you get that? I can’t get sick of you. Listening to you is the best part of my day, you’re my personal chatterbox.” 

“Chatterbox,” you repeat teasingly. 

“You could talk for Wales,” he says. “And I love it, I don’t want you to stop, because I’ll never be sick of it.”

“I don’t want it to be some secret resentment.”

“I don’t resent you for anything. I knew exactly who you were when we met and I love it.” He takes your face again. “I love it,” he repeats. 

You steal a little kiss against the corner of his lips. “What was the poem?” you ask. 

“I’ll find my book, and you can read it to me. What do you think?” He takes a slow kiss as you had in the same place, words like honey. “I miss your voice.” 

He’s basically pleading. It’s not like Sirius to plead, but you pull it out of him. 

“Can I have my dinner first?” 

“The one I made while you deprived me?” he asks. “Yes, if you must.” 

He takes another kiss, but you’re happy to give it. 

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ HE LIKES IT WET 'N' MESSY ❞

ᯓ ⭑ ₊‧⁺...synopsis : the more you think about it, the more you realize you love how messy atsumu is…

ᯓ ⭑ ₊‧⁺...cw : m. atsumu x fem!reader, wet and messy, ovėrstimulation, dirty talk, marathon sėx, desperation, playful banter, unprotected sēx, excessive cūm (?), atsumu's undiscovered breēding kınk, begging, messy kissing, atsumu miya can't shut the fuck up

ᯓ ⭑ ₊‧⁺...lunar's note : another revamping of an old work of mine where i just. make this even more debauched and filthier than it was before !!

if there’s one word to describe atsumu miya, it’s messy.

sometimes, he leaves his clothes on the floor at the foot of the bed, waiting until you playfully kick him in the butt to pick up his things and put them in the laundry.

he's also so messy when it comes to eating, always having food on his face, causing you to tease him as he tries to wipe it off, completely missing.

it doesn't bother you that much, having already grown used to his messy nature.

it does bother you, however, when he makes a big mess of the sheets. he's always ignoring your whines for him to get a towel to put down or else you'd make him do laundry for the rest of the week.

atsumu always gives the same damn response, a long whine of your name, telling you he’ll clean it up after.

after all, atsumu doesn't think he can bring himself to pull out of your slick heat, not when you feel this fucking good. he can't remember the last time he got to fuck you like this, messy and desperate without worrying about needing to get up early the next day to catch a bus or plane for a game.

he swears he almost forgot how warm you were, how sweet your voice sounds when you were this close to him, how pretty your face looks even when you were looking at him rather annoyed despite being fucked.

“’t-'tsumie, the towel—!”

“baby, nooooo, don’ make me pull out, don' it feel good? d'ya really want me to stop?”

fuck, you can't lie, it feels good, it feels so fucking good, the way he slows his hips to torture you with the slow drag of his cock, making you feel every inch pull out...and then slowly slide back in, a wet squelch signally his hips pressing fully against you.

but that doesn't stop you from being annoyed, knowing your fresh sheets were already a mess.

“d'awww, don’ look at me like that, sweetcheeks. tsumtsum's gonna make ya feel reaaal good if y'forget about the damn sheets,” atsumu huffs, his sweaty hands grabbing the back of your thighs and pushing them closer to your upper body.

its sinful the way he manages to slip in even deep into you, his teeth digging into his bottom lip to prevent the pitiful little whimper from leaving him.

“l-lemme make a mess, baby girl, please?”

you want to roll your eyes at his request, because it's a little too late for him to ask you that. his cum from the first round is already dripping out your stuffed cunt, leaking onto the freshly washed bed sheets under you.

it doesn't matter that his sticky cock head is messing up your insides by pressing against all the spots that have you gushing. you just put these sheets on the bed!

giving him the best pout you can manage, you huff, "f-fine—o-oh!"

that pretty little moan shouldn't cause him to react so excitedly, but he can't help it. hearing your approval has him giggling, he knew you'd give in eventually, and he's going to make sure you don't regret it.

besides, hearing you, his sweet lil' princess, try to sound all tough and serious with his cock deep inside your hot gummy walls that were sucking him in with each thrust is making him so dizzy.

you are too damn cute for your own good.

he can't hold back anymore, not when you're so cute. his hands squeeze your thighs before he starts to pound into you, savoring the way you keen for him, mouth open as you chant his name so needily.

you aren't the only one being loud, poor atsumu giving up on holding back all those pretty noises of his, the way your tight walls squeeze and massage his throbbing dick so sweetly making it literally impossible to stay quiet.

“f-fuck, 'tsumu, ‘s too deep, ’s coming out more,” you whimper, trying to lift your hips to stop his cum from leaking out of you.

the wetness of your overstimulated cunted paired with his leaking cum causes the room to be filled with loud, wet, squelching, causing you to look down.

you suck in a breath, a hot pang of pleasure shooting up your spine at the sight between your legs. atsumu’s stupidly big dick is an absolute creamy mess that only seems to get messier the more he moves, pulling and pushing the sticky mixture of your cum in and out.

“listen to that, dolly, s' fuckin’ dirty. mmnh, tight l-lil' cunt can’t hold all my cum?”

god, atsumu doesn't ever shut up, he's always such a talker, knowing how embarrassed it makes you.

“c’mon, say it, angel, say it f' me, pretty please?”

“a…atsumu, i can’t hold all of your cum…’s comin’ out, ‘tsumu, you're making me messy.”

he wasn’t expecting you to actually do it, god, he really wasn't, but you did and now his eyes are fluttering as they roll back into his skull.

don't cum, don't cum, don't cum, he chants to himself, feeling himself nearly lose it just from your words.

a choked groan forces its way out of his mouth, you're just too fucking hot for him. he can't think of anything but you, your pretty face, your soft body, and your insanely wet cunt.

“s’okay, s’okay, fuck, i’ll-i'll fuck ya, pumpkin, 't-'tsumi's gonna fuck ‘n’ fill ya up over ‘n’ over again, 'til y'can't keep it all inside, gotta stuff you with my cum, make you cream around my cock, need it, need it.”

atsumu is absolutely gone, now fully pressing into you as he fucks you into the mattress. each thrust makes you cry his name, fingers digging into his back as he puts you into a mating press, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, so ready to pump another hot load into you.

it's too much, the drag of his cock and the way it was so deep inside you. tears prick the corners of your eyes, each thrust making your brain slowly turn into nothing but mush. you hate the mess, you really do, but hearing atsumu so desperate does something for you.

you...you want it, you want him to mess you up.

your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as you moan and pant against his ear.

“a-atsumu, honey,” you coo to him, savoring the stuttering of his hips and the quiet hiss of ‘fuck’ you get out of him from the sound of your voice. “please, please fuck me more, fuck me, fill me up, stuff my pussy with your cum, h-honey, mark me nice a-an' deep, okay?”

everyone in the world knows that atsumu miya would give you the world if you asked. so you want to be filled up nice and full? then, he'll give you what you want, take such good care of you and make sure you feel him dripping out of you for days.

“yeah, yeah, fuck, good girl. take this cock, take it like a good girl, so good, my pretty girl, fuck! s-she takes this cock so well, wish you could see how good ya look stretched 'round me like this, baby, ohmyfuckin'goddd.”

you can't stop yourself, pulling him into a sloppy, desperate, the need to taste him overwhelming as your hands get tangled in his hair. he pulls away, panting into your mouth as his thrusts get harder and sloppier.

it's just a fucking mess now, your slick and cream and his cum are coating his abdomen and thighs, dripping everywhere. each thrust has you splashing on him from how fucking wet you are, and atsumu feels like he's gonna fucking faint if he tries to hold off his orgasm for much longer.

“'tsumu, 't-tsumu, 'tsumu—!"

“t-tell me ya want it, baby girl, p-please? c-c'mon, tell me y'want my fuckin' cum inside ya, n-need ta hear it,” he begs against your mouth, eyes watery as desperate tears threaten to spill.

you can't think, can't give a coherent response as you babble, the word ‘please’ falling from your lips over and over again. you just want him to stop talking and kiss you again as he pumps your needy hole full of his seed, until you can't take anymore, until it spurts out from around his cock.

but then, he stops.

a strangled sob leaves you the second his hips stop moving. it's borderline painful, you're so fucking close. just a few more thrusts and you'd be creaming all over his thick cock, tugging and pulling on his hair as your slick squirts all over him.

but no, atsumu fucking stopped.

you look at him with teary eyes, silently begging him to explain. this is just unfair to both of you! but atsumu only gives you a cocky grin, and you have to stop yourself from flicking his nose.

he grants you some relief, rolling his hips gently as his hand slides up to cup the back of your head as he pepper your sweaty cheek in open mouthed kisses. he's so annoying, you love him so bad.

“dunno, pumpkin, don' think ya begged enough f'me. hmm...i’ll give ya one more shot, baby…tell me how fucking much ya want my fuckin’ cum in yer pretty cunt and make ya a creamy lil' mess."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[pboogerswbb]

EARNED IT

Paige Bueckers x reader

In which reader wants a pair of shoes but instead of just buying them, Paige makes reader earn them, each orgasm bringing her $200 closer - loosely based on a request @d3arapril got and passed onto me (ty girl ily)

Warnings: SMUT (slight CNC, use of a dildo, overstim, P being a little sadistic), lowkey filthiest thing i've written so beware

Wordcount: 4.9K

A/N: SURPRISE! enjoy this little pre-game treat while I work on the prologue for So It Goes ;)

-

It had been a long day. Work had been killing you and frankly, you missed your girlfriend who had been training tirelessly in the past weeks. It was as if the only times you saw each other were when she was about to leave, coming into your bedroom and kissing you goodbye for the day, or the couple hours after she got home when you ate dinner together and went to bed. 

It was all okay, you understood the stakes, you always knew what it entailed to date the famous Paige Bueckers. That basketball was her life, that it meant a lot of lonely nights, sometimes for weeks during the season. But it was all worth it, because when she was there, you were the most spoiled, pampered girl in the world.

You could hear the shower turn off as you sat on the couch of your apartment, looking for something to spoil yourself with on your phone - you had received a bonus earlier today and thought you deserved something nice to celebrate. So naturally, almost out of habit, your finger was scrolling on the Louboutin homepage, admiring your dream shoes - the shiny leather and bright red sole of the shoe drawing you eye in. Maybe if you saved a little more, you could finally get them.

“You’d look so fine in those,” you’re interrupted by Paige, leaning over your shoulder to see what you were up to. When you turn around you find her shower fresh, wet hair still dripping and a robe tied loosely on her body. She smelled so delicious and clean you just wanted to bask in her. To throw yourself on her and have her hold you for days on end.

Paige kisses the top of your head from behind as she leans down and wraps two arms around you. Heaven is the only way to describe how that felt after days of missing her.

“Well gimme a couple months and I’ll save up,” you chuckle, tilting your head back to look at her. She smiles but scoffs a little at your words.

“I gotchu,” she laughs and yanks the phone out of your hands much too quickly for your reflexes.

“No!!” you yelp, jumping off the couch in a white top and underwear, following her around your apartment, feeble attempts to try and steal back the phone as she dodges you with ease, a smug grin on her face.

“‘S not even that much, relax,” Paige pushes your hands away gently, plopping herself down on the armchair in your living room that the blonde had reclaimed as “hers”. 

“Got that NIL money, can buy my girl whatever she wants,” she brags, leaning back in the robe that’s not doing much to cover her legs up. The sliver of white boxers on her muscular thighs electrify you, and the confident expression on her face doesn’t help when you feel the familiar ache fluttering between your thighs.

“It’s 800 dollars Paige,” you point out, sitting yourself on the blonde’s thigh, like you had so many times before. It was something about this chair that made her want to have you on her constantly. Perhaps it was the way you two fit in it just right, the way you felt small in her arms. Nevertheless, you had spent hours in this chair scrolling Tiktok, sharing a tub of ice cream, reading books or just talking after a long day.

Paige holds you bridal style, your bare legs sprawled across her lap. Her fingertips draw patterns up and down on your thighs, sending goosebumps everywhere. You loved these moments, they almost made up the fact that she was gone most days.

“That’s nothing baby, don’ worry,” Paige murmurs, already putting her card details in. 

“I’m serious P!” you groan, grabbing your phone finally from the blonde’s hands. Truth be told, you felt a little bad. Paige was always showering you with gifts, trips on your birthday, hell she had even convinced she should pay for your groceries since she was over all the time and ate most of them. She paid for every date, for gas, drove you around whenever she could. She spoiled the hell out of you and you let her. You knew she loved to do it. But still, something about it made you feel bad. To have your girl do so much for you without giving anything in return.

“I wanna earn it! I just got a bonus and if I save up some more I can get them,” you explain, the bewildered look on Paige’s face finally softening. A small grin tugs at the corner of her mouth as her blue eyes roam over your face, flickering to your lips. Her fingertips sneak further up your leg as her tongue licks over her pink bottom lip. All that was enough for you to know Paige had something dirty on her mind.

“Oh yeah? You wanna earn it?” she asks menacingly. With a confused look you nod, not quite sure what she meant.

Instead of explaining, she’s pulling you in by the back of your head, kissing you feverishly. The tension grows quickly, each kiss more passionate than the last. She wants you bad. Your hands entangle in her wet hair as you wrap your arms around the blonde. The fresh scent of shampoo, mango and guava, fills your nostrils. Paige moves her hand to your inner thighs, squeezing and caressing the soft skin, making a wet spot grow on your underwear embarrassingly quickly. 

She pulls her lips away with a struggle, attempting to catch her breath. You wince, already missing her mouth. 

“You wanna play a lil game with me baby?” She asks, hooded eyes blinking quickly as she refocuses on your face.

“What game?” Your voice is shaky from how much the ache between your legs had grown.

Paige sits up a little, clearing her throat. “Well, you said you wanna earn it,” she starts, walking her fingers up your thigh slowly. “and I really wanna touch you baby,” she adds. “How about each time you cum for me you get 200 dollars?”

The blush that sets on your cheeks is immediate, making your face red and hot. At first you want to shake your head, immediately turn it down. It felt so wrong. But then Paige’s fingertips inch closer to your core, and you can’t help but consider. She really wants to get you off after all. And if there was one thing about Paige, once she started she didn’t know how to stop.

The blue eyes roam your face, looking for a reaction. With a huff, Paige leans in and kisses on your earlobe. “Been away so much lately, need my girl,” she hums into your ear, chills taking over your body. That’s enough to do it.

“Okay,” you whimper, Paige grinning against your skin.

“Yeah? You not gon’ tap out?” She says with that arrogant lilt in her voice as your gazes meet.

“No.” 

Your tone is much more confident than you are.

“Bet.”

With that Paige’s fingertips press into your clothed core, dragging along your clit as you moan, your head already lulling back.

“You already this wet?” The blonde chuckles irritatingly, but you’re too desperate for her to do anything about it.

“Been missing you,” you whimper as her fingers rub in a circle, her lips returning to your ear as they suck on your earlobe, pulling on it with her teeth.

“Fuck I know baby, haven’t been giving you enough attention huh?” She coos, hot breath on your neck. You nod, agreeing with her, growing wetter, needier for something she wasn’t giving you yet. “Lemme make it up for you,” she whispers, nuzzling her nose against your neck. “Stand up.”

You do as she says as if in some sort of trance, willing to bend every which way for her. Paige looks up at you, spreading her legs further and reaching for your panties. With a swift movement she pulls them down, leaving you only in the tight white tank top in front of her. 

She pats her thigh, flexing the muscle there, inviting you to sit. It’s so tempting you don’t hesitate even for a moment when you straddle it. A gasp leaves your mouth when your wet cunt meets her soft, warm skin. She hisses, feeling your slick on her, licking her lips.

“Oh shit,” you whimper, Paige’s hands moving to your ass, kneading hungrily. You could already feel a fire in your abdomen, making you lightheaded. 

“C’mon,” the blonde urges you to move, her hands beginning to grind your hips back and forth. The way her thigh drags along your clit is making you see stars. Paige’s eyes are locked on the way you’re grinding on her, her cheeks turning red as she lets out loud exhales and hisses at the way your pussy feels on her skin. 

Grabbing onto her shoulders, you fasten the pace, needy for more. 

“That feels so- oh fuck baby,” you moan, feeling Paige flex her thigh underneath you, providing just the correct angle and pressure for you. Your legs are already shaking as her hands guide you, hips moving back and forth.

“Shit,” Paige whimpers as if she’s the one getting off. Leaning forward she begins to kiss your neck, sucking enough to leave a mark and a sting but it only spurs you on. Grabbing the hem of your top, she lifts it just enough to reveal your tits, eyes locked on the way they move with your body as you grind faster.

“Look so fucking good,” she murmurs almost to herself, one hand kneading your ass, the other your breast. “C’mon, you gonna get off on my thigh?” 

You nod desperately, hair falling all over your face as the coil inside you tightens, the pressure on your clit bordering on overwhelming. Your movements were turning sloppy as your orgasm approached you, desperately grinding your hips. To help you Paige’s hands return to your ass, assisting with the movements. 

“Fuck Paige, fuck,” you gasp, the burn in your core so intense it made your eyes roll back. A loud smack is followed with a sharp pain as Paige slaps your ass harshly, spurring you on.

“C’mon baby,” she groans, leaning forward to kiss your chest feverishly. As her warm tongue begins to circle your nipple, you can feel yourself starting to spill over. Hands gripping onto her shoulders, she flexes her muscles one more time, your clit rubbing desperately on her thigh as you come. 

“Oh-” you’re gasping, face scrunched up in pleasure as Paige’s hands guide your hips, soft lips sucking on your nipple to make the pleasure even more intense. Waves of pleasure wash over you as your cunt clenches around nothing, slick spilling out of you.

“That never gets old,” Paige moans as you try to catch your breath, your movements coming to a halt as the blonde keeps kissing along your neck and jaw. Your body already feels tired, worn out. But the night was just beginning.

“That’s 200 bucks for you ma,” she grins, finding your lips in a needy kiss. “You should know tho, you riding my thigh is worth a lot more,” Paige murmurs against your mouth. “Fuck, would pay millions to see that shit.”

Her words make you whimper into her mouth, giving her the opportunity to slide her tongue inside, meeting yours in a wet, sloppy kiss. Grabbing your thighs, Paige stands up from the chair and lifts you with ease, her robe falling open as she walks you to the couch. Placing you on the soft cushions, she watches you with hooded eyes.

“Wait here,” she murmurs before disappearing into your bedroom. When she returns, her robe is hanging off her shoulders loosely, chests and abs completely exposed. In her large hands she’s holding a purple, 7 inch dildo. A gift from the blonde but left unused because of how busy she had been.

You could still feel your core throbbing from your last orgasm, but the heat was quick to grow again when you see Paige holding it with a grin. As you lie on your back, waiting for her to touch you, Paige walks to the opposite end of the couch, leaning back and spreading her legs. 

“C’mere,” she says hoarsely, her fingers curling to invite you closer. Excited, you crawl to her. Paige’s impatient hands grab you and pull you onto her lap until you’re straddling her.

“You wanna put on a show for me?” She asks. Her head is tilted back as she watches you, the blue of her eyes completely blown out.

“Yes,” you whimper and gasp when her hand smacks your ass again, sharp pain following but making your pussy more soaked if possible.

“Such a slut huh?” She asks, making you only needier. Paige looks down between her thighs, holding the toy there in her hand, the plastic pressing against your stomach.

“Ride this shit,” she says, and you can tell it’s not a suggestion with the way she’s looking at you, her jaw suddenly sharper, eyes even darker. Your legs still feel shaky, but the urge to be filled up by her is so overwhelming you can’t help but lift your hips.

The tip of the toy presses against your folds, the blonde sliding it to your entrance teasingly. Your slick is already dripping down its length as you lower yourself on the tip, Paige’s hand on your hip guiding you.

A loud gasp escapes your mouth as Paige pulls you down on the length, making you take all of it. The stretch is too much, overwhelming you quickly, making your eyes roll back. However, Paige’s grounding hand grabs your jaw firmly, bringing your eyes to hers.

“Earn it ma,” she commands, leaning back and holding the toy steady with both hands. You knew exactly what she wanted.

With slow movements you begin to move up and down on the toy, letting it fill you up all the way. It feels so good it’s almost painful, and you can’t help but moan loud when it hits somewhere deep inside you you didn’t even know existed.

“Oh god,” you moan, eyes shutting in ecstasy. Paige is leaning back, watching you with hooded eyes and mouth slightly parted, moaning with you like she’s the one getting fucked.

“You’re so hot,” she groans, licking her lips. “Play with those tits for me.”

Without thinking your hands grab onto your chest, kneading as you pick up the pace, now bouncing on the toy that Paige is holding. The blonde can’t take it anymore, hand snaking around you to grab your ass hard. 

“Paige-” you gasp as she smacks your ass again, hard enough to leave marks to remind you of tonight for the days to come.

“That’s it ma, love it when you ride my shit,” she whimpers, her voice hoarse and deep. Watching you is getting Paige so wet she thinks she might come untouched, watching you bounce on the toy - what might as well be her cock. 

She can’t help it anymore, purely the way you look is getting her close enough to come. Her veiny hand moves off your ass, dragging down her stomach into her boxers where she’s met with her soaked cunt already throbbing. 

“Ah shit,” she moans as her fingers slip inside her, filling her up while you ride the toy for her. 

“C’mon, faster,” Paige commands. Whimpering and writhing, you maneuver from your knees to your feet, squatting on the toy now. Gripping Paige’s muscular shoulders for dear life, you begin to bounce on the toy, your tits in the blonde’s face.

“Such a good girl for me, shit,” she moans, her fingers pumping in and out of herself. She’s struggling not to come before you, her head lulling back and eyes nearly shutting. 

“Oh fuck,” you cry out, the burn in your thighs becoming overwhelming as you ride her, your pussy clenching around the length inside you. Leaning backwards to give Paige an even better view, you reach back to hold her thighs for support, making sure she sees all the inches disappearing inside you, stretching you out.

“Fuck baby you making a mess on my cock huh?” Paige whimpers, trying to sound together but there’s a whine in her voice that’s telling you she’s trying not to roll off the edge.

“Feels so good,” you gasp, the new angle letting the tip of the toy hit the spongy part inside you, making fire spread all over your abdomen. You’re dripping around the toy now, probably all over the couch, but neither of you seem to care.

“You like how my cock feels inside you?” Paige asks, voice breathy.

Nodding desperately, you allow your head to lull back, the squelching sounds coming out of both of you echoing around the living room. “Love riding your cock baby.”

“Aw sh- please tell me you’re close ma,” Paige cries out, her cunt throbbing around her fingers as she watches you.

“N-need to cum,” you mewl, tears filling your eyes.

“Shit- that’s right baby, earn it for me,” Paige rambles, her voice getting whinier as your pussy squeezes the toy tight, your movements on it turning rampant as you chase your high.

“Such a good girl for me, gonna make me cum,” the blonde continues, forcing her eyes to stay open as she spills over the edge so she can watch you come on her cock. All of a sudden intense pleasure takes over you, and your moans turn high pitched and desperate as you release all over the toy, the stretch making your legs shake.

“Aw fuck you look so fucking good, yeah ride that shit,” Paige moans loud as she comes with you. Plenty of high pitched cusses spill from her pink lips but you barely hear her, too focused on the ecstasy running through you. Once the feeling passes you crash onto the blonde underneath you, whole body shaking from the strain.

“That’s it baby,” Paige praises, sliding her fingers out of her cunt and carefully bringing them to your lips. They’re glistening in the light, covered in her slick. Eyes still closed and head resting on the blonde’s chest, you part your lips and swirl your tongue around them, tasting her. You wrap your lips around her fingers and suck on them as Paige pulls the toy out of you, leaving an uncomfortable emptiness behind.

“No more,” you whisper once the blonde’s fingers return to her side. She chuckles, brushing the hairs sticking to your sweaty forehead. 

“C’mon now that’s only 400 bucks,” she laughs but you shake your head. 

“It’s ok, I can save the rest,” you complain, your body sore and tired and way too sensitive to be touched.

“Well I’m not done with you yet ma,” Paige whispers. “So you might as well earn a lil sum.”

With that Paige is pushing you to your back, the robe finally falling off her body leaving her exposed, nipples hard and goosebumps covering her milky skin. Her hands grip your thighs spreading them wide and without warning, she leans down and begins to slowly drag her tongue along your cunt, taking her time.

You’re already squirming, two hands on her head ready to push her off. The two orgasms had left you sensitive and worn out. You’re not sure if you could do more. But Paige seemed to have decided for you.

She grabs your wrists, pulling them to your side against the couch. “Keep ‘em there,” she orders as she begins to lick against your puffy, swollen clit, humming contently as your body begins squirms. 

“‘S too much,” you cry out but she shakes her head, moaning into your pussy. 

“No it’s not, you can take it,” she assures, arms wrapping around your thighs to pull you closer, to hold you down. She’s lapping you up now, desperately trying to taste every inch of you. Her warm tongue swirls in your folds, moaning at your taste. If there was something Paige Bueckers loves it’s eating pussy. “Doin’ so good for me,” she praises.

The sensation is enough to make your legs tremble desperately, your third orgasm quickly building up. Every muscle in your body ached, and all touches and flicks on your clit felt heightened, making your eyes well up. You were a mess, back arching, hands grabbing the couch, the soft pillows thrown all over the floor now. Every part of you was writhing except your hips that Paige was holding down and still for her sake. She was eating you like she had never tasted you before, as if she had been starving for you.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl, grabbing onto her blonde locks still wet from the shower. As you yank Paige moans, watching you from underneath her long dark eyelashes. She’s watching for every reaction, blue eyes filled with lust and locked onto every movement, every expression. She can’t look away.

Paige lays her tongue flat against your puffy clit and shakes her head from one side to the other, your cunt beginning to throb immediately. 

“Just like that, shit baby,” you moan, pulling onto the blonde hair. Paige pulls back, buried so deep in your folds she’s gasping for air as she comes up. Her gaze moves from your face to your pussy, a mixture of her spit and your slick dripping out of you onto the couch.

“Aw fuck I can see this pussy throbbing,” Paige gasps and immediately dives back in, the strain in her jaw quickly forgotten by the sight of you. Suddenly she spits onto your folds and urgently leans back in to lap it all up. It was so hot, so dirty that the sight was enough for your muscles to begin to twitch a third time around this evening.

“Oh fuck, Paige-”

“Right there?” She asks, staring up at you from between your thighs, her fingertips digging into the skin of your hips. Her tongue lies flat against your swollen clit, circling against it making all the muscles in your body tremble desperately.

“Yes, yes yes yes yes!” You gasp, real tears spilling from your eyes. You’re teetering right on the edge, only needing permission now from the blonde between your thighs.

“Fuuuuckk ma, cum on my face, please,” she moans, fastening her movements and gripping you harder, her eyes rolling back when you yank on her hair hard. “Please,” Paige cries out, clearly desperate, needing to make you come.

“I’m coming, oh fuck-” you cry out, your whole back arching upwards but Paige’s hand presses you down as her tongue keeps working you, drinking up all of it as you crash over the edge. The sounds coming out of you are muffled from how hard the climax hits you, seeing stars as Paige keeps lapping you up.

“Okay okay okay stop,” you whine pulling her hair, the sensation becoming too much too quickly as you come down. But Paige only grabs your wrists tightly in one of her large hands, pinning them together and holding them against your stomach.

“I’m not fucking done,” Paige says directly into your pussy, not slowing down for a second. You try everything, squirming, pulling your hands free, but it was useless. She was way too strong, and clearly wanted you way too much to give in to your whining.

“Paige please,” you cry, eyes welling up again as the tip of her tongue moves back and forth at an accelerating speed.

“You’re not done till I say so,” Paige commands and from the tone of her voice you know - there’s no fighting if she had decided to have you.

“‘S too much.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Suddenly Paige has you flipped over, pressed against the soft armrest of the couch. Her strong hand quickly wraps around your hair and yanks on it, pulling your back flush against her exposed front.

“You want those shoes huh?” She asks with her lips pressed against your ear, a slight sadistic tone in your voice.

“Yes,” you answer weakly.

“Gotta earn it,” Paige says, kissing your neck before pushing you down by your hair till you’re bent over the armrest, ass high up in the air. Paige’s hands grip onto your ass and spread you wide open before you feel her tongue lick against your folds once, twice, until she dives and begins to lap you up even more hungry than before. 

“Oh fuck!” You gasp, completely forgetting about the thin walls and the poor neighbours next door. Nothing in this moment mattered except you, Paige and her plump lips sucking on your clit, still holding you wide open for her.

“Fucking love this pussy,” Paige groans, lips and mouth working hard, getting covered in a mixture of your mess and her spit. It’s simultaneously too much and so fucking hot, the way she’s eating you from behind, the way her nose is pressing against your entrance, rubbing against it teasingly.

Suddenly your pussy is throbbing around nothing, and it’s like the blonde can tell because next thing you know you feel a sudden stretch inside you. The toy from earlier suddenly pounds into you, making you gasp.

“Ohhhhhh shit P-” you can’t even form full sentences, the sudden sensation and the speed which Paige is fucking the dildo in and out of you with making you let out a cry louder than before.

“Ohh fuck ma, perfect pussy I swear,” Paige groans, pulling herself back to fuck the toy into you with more force, watching the way you’re getting stretched out. 

“‘S too big,” you cry, reaching back to push the blonde’s hands away. She grabs your wrists, holding both in one hand with ease and pinning them against your back.

“Don’t push me away,” she asserts, somehow finding a new angle as you crash flat against the armrest, making you take it even deeper. You could swear she’s in your guts now, and the loud squelching sounds your soaked cunt is making is only making your mind spin more.

Your whole body’s shaking as your front presses against the soft cushions of the couch, Paige pinning you down by your wrists as she keeps fucking into you. Your juices are everywhere, on the couch, on Paige’s face and hands, gushing out of you around the toy. 

“You gonna cum on this cock?” Paige asks, her voice hoarse with arousal. 

“Mmph-” you moan, face buried into the armrest. The blonde lets go of your wrists and smacks your ass, gripping it tight to fuck the toy even deeper, impossibly so.

“Answer me baby,” she groans, increasing her speed, the tip hitting the right spot each time to make you clench and throb so hard you could barely think.

“Yes yes yes ‘m gonna come fuck,” you cry, grabbing the cushions of the couch desperately.

“Yeah, you gonna cum for me just to get some shoes?” Paige sadistically says, kneading your ass. The wet sounds are becoming louder, your mess dripping everywhere.

“Yes Paige, please please please!” 

“Perfect girl, perfect fucking pussy huh? Letting me fuck your shit up just like this?” 

“Yes, please P-”

“Cum for me.”

She’s killing your shit, toy pounding into your guts. The stretch is so intense your eyes roll back involuntarily, and a loud whimper leaves your body as your pussy clenches around the toy, finally releasing and letting your climax wash over.

Paige is talking you through it, you’re pretty sure. But you can’t hear over your own moans, over the sounds coming from your body, over the way you felt like you might black out. Every muscle in your body is on fire, fingers gripping anything they could find. Next thing you’re being carried into your bedroom, Paige laying you down gently on your back and climbing next to you.

Finally your eyes flutter open as the blonde pulls you into her chest.

“What happened?” you murmur, and Paige chuckles.

“Just made you cum a lil too hard I think,” she laughs and kisses your forehead. Her hands are playing with the ends of your hair, stroking your arms and back, grounding you.

“Did so good for me,” the blonde coos, kissing your lips softly. You could still taste yourself on her. “You okay?”

You nod. All your muscles ache and the strain had made you exhausted, but that definitely made up for all the time Paige had spent away from you in the past weeks.

“That was hot,” you admit, which makes the blonde let out a loving giggle.

“Not you saying that, hottest thing we ever did I swear,” Paige praises, pressing kisses on top of your head again. “Let me go run you a bath baby.”

But as she moves you wrap your arms tighter around her waist, pulling her closer with all the strength you had left. 

“A little longer,” you whisper against her sticky skin. Paige couldn’t dream of leaving you alone, not like this, not when you sound like that - all of it makes her bend to your every whim, she couldn’t help it.

“Okay, a little longer,” she repeats. 

“And you’re ordering those shoes now,” you command, a slight shake to your voice from the prior activities.

“Deal.”

-

taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @bueckersfive @sierrale8ne @lovegalor333 @xxloveralways14 @vamptizm @jadasogay @paigesbabygirl

[sooniebby]

ఌ ���𝐀𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐄

w.c › 6k

Warnings › faceclaims. Part 1. Slow burn, some slight romance with Hyojin (but Mingi is still the main love interest).

Plot › you begin to learn just how obsessive Mingi is

Words to know › maknae (막내) — youngest. Hyung (형) — a term a younger male with call an older male.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Four Years Ago

“They’re going to add another member. To fill a gap, they feel that you guys another need main vocalist.”

When Dawon had told Mingi and the others that, it was like hell broke loose. They all couldn’t believe that the company really believed they weren’t good enough, after all that training.

Hyojin, however, didn’t see the problem with it. He could actually understand where the company was coming from—even if he did hate them for other reasons.

He didn’t think the others couldn’t sing but there was something he felt was missing. A more mature voice—sultry he’d say.

Which was why when everyone met you, he could understand why the company put you in the group. You were the package deal, minus rapping, but that was okay. And while he’d never tell Yohan, you were a much better leader than he could ever be.

So he was a bit upset for you when the other members were set on ignoring you.

The group was finally filming for their debut single. It was a school boy concept, young love and all that. Hyojin didn’t care too much about that. As long as the song was good and he wasn’t forced to make garbage music, he was fine.

“Okay, guys, we’re going to do pairs for this shot,” Gaeul said, getting the boys attentions. “The director said the pairs don’t matter. So, you guys can pick.”

Hyojin didn’t have to put two and two together that it would get awkward fast if they got to who would be forced to pair with you.

So, he eagerly stood up from his seat, “I’ll pair with (Name)-Ssi.” He said, fixing the tie to his uniform. He ignored the glances the others gave him as he looked over at you.

You were staring at him with a shocked face before a wide grin pulled on your lips, “Okay.”

Hyojin smiled slightly. He moved to follow you to the shooting area when he caught a glimpse of Mingi. His eyes widen as he saw Mingi staring at him as if he wanted to murder him. The boy was picking at his pants as he glared at him.

Who knew someone so young could make such a scary face?

Though he didn’t understand why Mingi seemed so angry? Did he.. want to pair with you?

That didn’t make any sense—he didn’t exactly talk to you.

Oh well, Hyojin had other things to worry about.

He was a bit awkward for the camera so he wasn’t having the best of time filming. The amount of times the director told him to not look like he’s having a war flashback was too many to count.

The set was a bedroom, stuff randomly around. This director had wanted it to feel a bit more real and only gave you and Hyojin the direction to act like students who were discussing how to confess to their crush.

Hyojin didn’t know how the fuck he was supposed to do that but you seemed to understand.

Once the camera began to roll, you basically stole the scene with ease. Acting cute seemed like second nature to you. Hyojin just followed whatever you did, letting you lead him.

Just as the scene was about to end, you both sat on the bed as you opened a fake note. Hyojin leaned in to see that there was a little stick figure drawing, causing him to crack a slight smile.

He glanced over and felt himself freeze, your face close to his. You were staring at him with eyes he couldn’t really describe. A soft gaze as a slight smile pulled on your lips.

Did they put lipstick on your—

“Cut!”

“Great job, guys!” Gaeul said, walking over to you two. You easily pulled away as Hyojin tried to think about what just happened.

“Thanks for pairing with me, Hyojin-Ssi.” You said, smiling at him. The rest of the sentence didn’t need to be said.

“I wanted to pair with you… uhm, you don’t need to speak so politely with me.” He said, deciding to bridge the gap.

Your eyes widen before you eagerly nodded, “okay. Call me Hyung then, Jinnie.”

Jinnie?

Oh man, you were too cute.

Gaeul coughed, clapping her hands together, “great, you two are cute! But c’mon, you guys need to film a quick video for the vlog the Dawon is making.”

You and Hyojin joined the other members back in the dressing room. Dawon was holding a camera as he motioned for the group to stand up and start the intro. You stood in the middle as Hyojin stood on your left while a disgruntled Yohan on your right.

It seemed like Yohan wouldn’t like you at all… or anyone besides Hyojin for that matter.

Every member immediately got their camera ready persona on as you smiled, ready to start the introduction when someone stopped you.

“Ah, Hong (Name)-Ssi, you shouldn’t smile, it’ll go against the boyfriend image we have for you,” one of the producers said, causing you to freeze.

Another one hummed in agreement, “and maybe angle your head a bit to left, your face looks better on camera that way.”

Gaeul let out a grunt, “uh, thanks… but I’m his manager.. I can handle the group.”

“Well, handle him better.”

You ignored the questioning stares the members gave you as you dropped your smile. Hyojin wanted to say something back but he was a rookie—he had no power over the people funding their debut.

He could only watch as the light in your eyes practically went out from their berating. From that moment, he could easily tell there was a different set of standards you had to meet compared to the others.

From then on, he was going to help you, in anyway he can.

That’s why he’s your favorite… right?

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You wanted to die.

At age twenty five you came like a teenage boy right in front of your maknae.

How embarrassing.

You grabbed your pillow and let out a loud scream, wanting to just close your eyes and never wake up. Mingi was taking a shower and you were scared he’d come into your room later.

There was no way in hell you wanted to see him again tonight.

Maybe tomorrow.

Or a few weeks.

You glanced over at your phone and stared at it for a few minutes. Maybe some posts from those freaky Miras would make you appreciate life again. Or something like that. Whatever bullshit idea you could come up with to justify you still going to the NSFW side of your fandom.

Now that you knew about the rise of gay/bisexual men into you, you wondered if you could find any.

Your biggest fan account, itsokokok had recently posted so decided to see if maybe they were congregating in the replies.

The new three posts of today was from three hours ago. It was from three different album promotions.

The first was from debut: it was a short clip of you in the music video. Your duo scene with Hyojin. You didn’t remember just how cute you acted in it, really playing up the teen boy being in love.

You checked the comments, many filled with people that weren’t Miras. Most of it was just guys saying you were really cute but in a natural way.

Second was of your performance from… pre debut? Huh, how did they find this? You looked to be maybe fifteen—a performance from your high school’s talent show. The video was of you dressed in a suit and tie performing A.D.T.O.Y by 2pm.

Quite the song for fetus you to be performing but hey, none of the adults stopped you.

It seemed the comments did have morals and mostly just complimented your ability to sing and dance at the same time. Though a few wanted you to preform the dance now… probably to thirst over you.

Lastly, the third video was one year old, a short clip of the music video for your second to last comeback. You didn’t know how they could thirst over this but you clicked on the video.

You were wet in the video, standing in front of a swimming pool. Dressed in a white button up and black slacks. The white shirt was stuck to your skin as you delivered your line, tugging at the loose tie around your neck.

At the time, you didn’t find the whole aspect of being wet on camera a bad thing. The song was about drowning in your feelings so being wet made sense.

Though you now regretted it.

@bluemuuun

↳ need him bad… don’t even know his name

@hanniesmira

↳ you don’t know Miracle?! Hong (Name) from Miracle? Dude you’re missing out, they have great songs

@bluemuuun

↳ I’m not even into kpop, I just want to fuck him ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

@slipslickk

↳ he looks good wet—I need one of his members to fuck him on stage already pls

@dohasflatass

↳ wonder if Min collapsed after seeing (Name) during shooting ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

@hanniesmira

↳ knowing min, he probably threatened anyone who stared for too long ㅎㅎㅎ

@hyunkikii

↳ Mrcle definitely take turns on his ass, got a phatty for real

@hyoojinie

↳ his gaze into the camera is so slutty

Just as you were about to log out, you came across an older post itsokokok posted. It was of your early debut. One of the stage performances. It followed you dancing with a stoic face right when it was your center turn until it was Yohan’s turn.

As soon as the main camera was off you, a wide smile pulled on your lips as you danced along. Whenever it was your turn to sing, you immediately dropped the smile.

You were mostly following the orders the company gave you. Being the stoic boyfriend.

Nowadays you stopped caring but back then you were so scared of being taken out of the group that you followed whatever the company told you.

The comments were filled with comments of Miras, a few stating they missed this side of you. If only they knew that it wasn’t the real you. You scrolled through the comments before seeing one by itsokokok himself.

He was responding to someone saying they loved you when acted stoic, and hating this new ‘fake’ you.

→ then you don’t know the true him

You sat up, staring at the comment for a moment. Itsokokok didn’t seem to really comment. He had little to none captions and just posted once everyday at random times, possibly whenever he was free. It wasn’t even anything too crazy but the comment oddly felt like he knew you?

Well, probably not. He might’ve just noticed that you were putting on an act due to your pre-debut activities. It was a drastic difference if you paid any attention.

Speaking of, how did he find any of your pre-debut stuff? You tried to think if you maybe posted them yourself or maybe your classmates or something.

Maybe your mom? She loved posting videos of your performances on her Instagram. She even gained a lot of followers because of it. Her account was basically a fan account at this point.

He might’ve just found the pre-debut performances she posted, it’s not like she’s hiding it.

You shrugged. It wasn’t too creepy. He seemed to actually appreciate you.

And that’s all you can really ask for in a fan.

“Hyung.”

You blushed and quickly turned off your phone. Mingi stepped into your room, rubbing at his face as he got on your bed. You simply watched him get comfortable before glancing over at you.

“You’re so stiff.” He said, a slight smirk on his lips. “Are you scared I’ll eat you in your sleep?”

“Mingi!” You bristled, quickly turning off your lamp as you got underneath your covered. You kept your back to him as you tried to drown out his laugh.

It was silent after a minute. You glanced back to see him fast asleep. That was fast.

Staring at him, you wondered how much he’s changed. He wasn’t seventeen anymore.

Maybe he really did love you…

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Solo activity?”

Your group mates were looking at you in shock. It had been almost a month since Gaeul had told you about your change in marketing and now the company finally has something for you. Your solo stage.

They were all in your apartment, getting comfy on the couch when you suddenly came out ready to leave. Everyone had been practicing daily for the comeback that they had planned for a relaxed day today.

“Yeah.” You said, feeling a bit nervous. “Did.. Dawon Hyung forget to tell you guys?”

“Oh, yeah, he did.” Yohan muttered.

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” Doha said, glancing back at the tv. You wanted to ask what he meant by that but then Yohan delivered a swift kick to Doha’s shin.

“Have you been practicing before us then?” Kihyun suddenly asked. “You’re already prepared to perform it?”

“Mhm… I’ve been practicing daily after our recording sessions.” You bit your lip. “It’s an easy song to learn.”

“Ah okay,” Yohan said, speaking for the others who were just staring at you. “Do you want one of us to come with?”

“Come—? Uh, uhm.” Your eyes gazed at them in disbelief. They wanted to come? Why did it feel like they were attached to your hip these days?

Mingi rolled his eyes, coming out from the kitchen. “(Name) Hyung doesn’t need someone with him. He’s not a baby.”

“You’re just jealous he might not choose you,” Doha shot back, smirking at the deadly glare Mingi sent his way.

“Ah, I guess I could bring one of you guys,” you said, causing them to perk up immediately. Their eyes stared right into your soul. You felt your hands sweat as you tried to think about who to choose.

No way would you choose Mingi… he was making you uncomfortable these days. The way he gazes at you like you’re his entire world is insane!

Yohan would be too annoying.

Kihyun would be a bit awkward.

Doha was being annoying to Mingi and you didn’t want reward his behavior.

Your gaze narrowed in on Hyojin. His eyes met yours as a slight grin pulled on his lips. That’s all he needed as he stood up with a triumphant smile. The others immediately groaned and shook their heads in annoyance.

Hyojin moved to follow you out the door when Mingi suddenly grabbed his arm. You almost yelled at Mingi for his aggressive behavior but Hyojin didn’t look shocked at all.

Mingi whispered something while Hyojin rolled his eyes.

“Childish.” He said, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I won’t touch what’s yours. You should worry about Yohan Hyung instead.”

“What? Yah, what are you talking about?!” Yohan yelled, glancing over at Mingi.

You stood there mouth agape. Mingi didn’t… no way he wouldn’t.. Hyojin grabbed your hand before you could properly spiral and lead you out of the apartment.

Just what the hell was Mingi’s problem?

Hyojin didn’t see you romantically, what is he worrying about?

Once you reached the music show, you were quickly dressed in an outfit to match the song you were performing. It was business casual, apparently.

Hyojin sat on the couch as the stylist helped you get dressed. He was silent for the most part, tapping away on his phone. It was another reason why you chose him. He wasn’t an annoying little shit like the rest of them.

“Jinnie,” you called, fixing the fake glasses on your face. “How does Hyung look?”

It took a minute before he finally glanced up. His eyes widen as he took you in. You were dressed in a white button up, sleeves rolled up with a loose black tie. Black slacks with sleek black dress shoes.

“It reminds me of something I wore before,” you laughed, tugging at the tie as you looked over at him.

Hyojin coughed, the tip of his ears getting red as he mutely nodded. “Mhm… you make it so hard, Hyung.”

“Hm?” You tilted your head, walking over to him as you plopped down beside him on the couch.

“I think Mingi will be upset if I told you… but everyone in the group has.. liked you.”

“Liked me? Like…”

“Romantically.” Hyojin said, smiling slightly. “But Mingi had stronger feelings for you.”

“So what… did he.. did he tell you guys to back off or something?” You asked, still reeling from the fact your members liked you. The thought seemed ludicrous!

“Yeah.” Hyojin said bluntly. “Something like that.”

You raised an eyebrow, “what did he do?”

“Secret.”

“Hyojin.”

“Mhmmm, I can’t remember.”

You glared at him as he went back to his phone. “I don’t understand. You guys really liked me..? How? Why?”

Hyojin shrugged. “I don’t know about the rest of them.. but I just liked you for you. But it wasn’t the strongest feelings.”

The strongest… You briefly wondered about Kihyun. Maybe he had stronger feelings for Kihyun?

But before you could ask, a staff member called for you. Hyojin gave you a thumbs up as you got up and left.

While you were nervous, you weren’t exactly nervous to preform on stage alone. You’ve always performed alone before debuting in Miracle.

The month you spent practicing for the song was a breeze. It was a song that took inspiration from a past song you composed. The choreographer didn’t go all out with the dance.

Though what you were really nervous about was if people would actually care.

What if the so called growing interest in you deflated immediately?

You shook your head, walking onto stage. A group of six dancers followed you. The crowed actually cheered a bit when you came on. There was a few Miracle lightsticks. But immediately, a group of male voices rung out in the building.

Everyone seemed shocked at how loud they were, even the dancers as they got into position. You couldn’t help but grin and eagerly wave at them.

“귀여! ♡♡♡♡!”

“Thank you!” You said into your mic, laughing at the immediate screams from the crowd. You walked to your position, letting the dancers grab your waist as they pulled you to sit on two of their arms—a makeshift throne.

The lights dimmed as you got ready to perform. You tried to remember all the times you performed alone and channeled the energy of younger you.

While you would dance, you would focus mostly on having great vocals. This song was a taste into the title track, you needed to show a great intro.

The performance started with a slight hiccup when the back track started before you but you continued as if nothing happened. It allowed for your vocals to truly show anyway.

The major part of the song that seemed to get most of the crowd excited was when one of the dancers grabbed your tie and tugged you towards him. You couldn’t help the slight blush during that part, feeling oddly excited over it as well.

Was this a kink?

You ended the oddly homoerotic song with the dancers kneeling in front of you, your hand digging into one of the men’s hair.

Cheers erupted as soon as you were finished. You felt excited, hearing mostly male voices scream your name. The dancers immediately stood up and grabbed you, lifting you up in the air as you shrieked in shock. Your arms immediately wrapped around one of their shoulders at the sudden movement.

If only you knew just how angry this little action would make a certain someone.

The drive home felt long for some reason. Hyojin was on his phone so you decided to check how Miras were doing.

Not too surprising, not that many Miras talked about the performance. However non fans were praising it. Itsokokok had posted.

It was three posts, seems like he had a pattern. The first was of your recent performance. A short video of the moment when the dancer pulled your tie. Your face didn’t hide any of the hidden pleasure you got from that short moment.

During practice, the pull was never harsh so it really did shock you when he tugged it harder this time around.

Of course, the comments were filled with people thirsting. Mostly non fans—gay men in particular. The same Miras that actually liked you were thirsting over you while also gushing at how you finally had a solo activity.

Shocker, the NSFW side that talked about your members fucking you actually appreciated you.

The next post was of a pre-debut one. This time, it was a nineteen year old you preforming an original song. It was the song the company used to create the solo song you just preformed.

Most of the comments didn’t seem to notice this at all. You were mainly shocked the account owner even found this clip.

Lastly, it was a clip from the group’s occasional vlog. From the setting, it was of the time the group was planning Mingi’s nineteenth birthday. You were kneeling down as you picked something up.

The camera was just on you as you arched your back by pure instinct. You don’t even remember doing that. A laugh was heard from the camera man, you quickly noticed it was Yohan filming before video you looked back and glared at Yohan.

“Go do something useful!” You had yelled, “Minnie’s party has to be good. I won’t let you ruin it.”

@bluemuuun

↳ does his back naturally arch like that??

@hanniesmira

↳ his relationship with min is so cute.. i bet today’s performance killed min ㅋㅋㅋ

Before you could read the rest, the van reached the apartment complex. You and Hyojin left as you got inside. Hyojin waved you good night before going into his shared apartment with Kihyun.

You wondered back to his claim of the members all liking you.

That just didn’t make any sense.

As you moved to unlock the door to your apartment, it swung open, showing a pissed Mingi.

Fuck.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“How was the performance?”

Hyojin glanced over at Kihyun. He had just walked in and was set on just speed walking straight to his bedroom. Kihyun was sitting in the couch and didn’t look away from the tv.

“It was good, Hyung is a good performer.” Hyojin muttered, slipping off his shoes. He slipped off his coat and slowly walked over to the living room.

“Yeah, he is.”

“Well… I’ll go to bed—”

“Hyojin.”

Hyojin sighed, looking back at Kihyun. Kihyun was finally looking over at him. His piercing gaze made his back tense. The slight hums of the tv filled the odd tension as Hyojin fought the urge to just walk away. It was too late to be dealing with this.

“Are you… still upset about what I said this morning?” Kihyun finally said, his gaze softening.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Kihyun stood up from the couch as he walked over to Hyojin. “I didn’t think it would upset you… I thought you were over him.”

Hyojin felt his jaw tighten, “you might’ve gotten over Hyung easily but I actually liked him. I liked him a lot—I only backed off because Mingi was right, (Name) Hyung would never see me romantically.”

“So… what’s the problem? Aren’t we—?”

“—dating?” Hyojin pinched his nose before letting out a sigh. “I don’t know, are we? You only want to have sex, nothing else. Even if we are ‘dating’—I won’t allow you to speak about my past feelings as if they were trivial.

“(Name) Hyung is an important part of my life, especially because he’s still here. It’d be different if he wasn’t around anymore. So I’m sorry, Hyung, my feelings for (Name) Hyung wasn’t some three second attraction like yours… If two years ago, (Name) Hyung had returned my feelings in anyway… I’d never have gotten with you.”

Kihyun sighed, “I didn’t mean it that way, Hyojin… I didn’t realize you had liked him that much. I—”

“Hyung.” Hyojin interrupted him. “Come back to me once you figure out if you want to be boyfriends or just fuck buddies. I’m not breaking myself over another guy.”

With that, he walked into his room, slamming the door shut.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Mingi immediately tugged you inside and glared at you. “What type of solo stage was that?”

“What do you mean?” You asked, moving to walk to your room. Mingi was already following you as you tried to keep yourself calm.

You were older! You’re the group leader… he needs to.. he can’t treat you like this.

Especially over a simple performance.

“Hyung.” Mingi’s voice was tight. “We’ve never performed a song like that before—the company never allowed it.”

“Well they’re just trying something new with me. They’ve finally noticed a group of people they can advertise me to. I can..” you placed your bag on your bed and sighed, “I can gain some fans that actually care about me.”

“Fans? Is that all you care about? What about the music?”

“Mingi, obviously I care about the music!” You said, staring at him as he stood in your doorway. “But it’s normal to want positive feedback from sharing your art! You get it all the time, I’ve seen how Miras react to you.”

“So what, you’ll feed into the silly relationship the company uses to get people’s money?!”

You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Mingi, it’s not that serious. I’ve always wanted to do a sexy concept anyway—no one forced me.”

As you glanced back at him, any anger you had tempered down. You couldn’t be mad at him—not for long anyway. “I get it… you’re just worried but I consented to everything.” You muttered, hoping that would calm him down.

“So you consented to be whored out for some fans that only like you because they want to fuck you?”

You blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

A laugh left your lips as you stared straight at Mingi.

“Choi Mingi.” You whispered, your gaze hardening as your fists clenched. The words you wanted to say was in the tip of your tongue and if you weren’t so angry—you would’ve held back.

But you didn’t.

“Remember your place.” You said, walking over to him. “I am your Hyung, not your boyfriend. I’m not yours and you can’t act so possessive over me, do you understand? I don’t know what you told the others but it’s not your right to tell them to back off.”

“You—?”

“Yes I know! I’m not your boyfriend and I won’t ever be your boyfriend!” You yelled, pushing Mingi out of your room, causing him to bang his head right against the wall. He stared at you in shock as you froze. Any anger you had was gone as you wanted to rush and check if he was okay.

But you couldn’t.

You shouldn’t.

You cleared your throat as you glanced down at the ground. Your throat felt tight. “Choi Mingi, I don’t think you really love me… because if you did, you wouldn’t have insulted me to my face.”

A pained whimper left your throat as you quickly looked away from Mingi. “I’ll go… spend tonight with Hyojin. Don’t.. don’t bother me.. please.” You whispered, moving to leave as quickly as you could.

A hand gripped your arm before you could even step an inch away. Your body tensed as you waited to see what Mingi would say. He didn’t feel like that boy you knew… how much had he changed?

You reluctantly glanced back to see what he was going to say only to see him kneel down. Your eyes widen as he pressed his head against the floor, hands resting on the ground.

“죄송합니다. 죄송합니다, 형.”

“Mingi…” You whispered. You slowly knelt down and gripped at Mingi’s shoulders, pushing to make him sit up but he fought against you. He kept repeating himself, his words slowly being muffled by the sound of his gasps.

“Mingi. Choi Mingi.” With his refusal to look up, you decided to try a different method. “I’ll leave.. I’ll go to Hyojin if you don’t look at me.”

You got whiplash at how quick he looked up. Your gaze softening at the sight of his face. His eyes were red as tears streamed down his face, his face blotchy and red already. He kept gasping for air as if crying so hard was taking his breath away.

Despite yourself, you remembered the only other time he cried so hard in front of you.

“Childish. You really are childish.” You whispered, wiping away at his face. His body physically loosened at your touch as he leaned into it. Though you could tell he wasn’t coming any closer, even if his hands twitched to touch you.

It didn’t look like he was in the capacity to speak so you decided to do it for him.

“I’m upset, Mingi. I’m so upset you would hurt me like this. Were you jealous? Why would you say that about me?”

Mingi shook his head.

“Then why did you say that? What could you have possibly meant?”

“Scared..” he managed to mutter, taking a second to take a deep breath. “You’re… older… I’m… younger… the.. dancer… older… what if… what if you want an older man…? What if… you’ll leave me… because he’s better..”

You blinked, staring at him confusion. “Mingi, that’s so silly.” You whispered, cooing when he tried to glare at you—it didn’t pack a punch with his face wet with tears. “You were insecure and that’s okay… but that was not the way to go about it. Are you scared that… I’ll leave you if I get more fans?”

He hummed. “You… might… leave the group.”

“Why would I? You have solo activities but you don’t want to leave the group. I can have solo activities too. I like our group. You’re really acting your age, Mingi.”

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say as he immediately began to try and pull away. You pulled him back in quickly as you brought his face to yours.

“Next time, if you’re feeling a certain way, you can.. voice it? Instead of talking down on me, okay?” You said, giving him a slight smile. “But I’m happy you immediately apologized. I didn’t think you would do that.”

Mingi sniffled, finally sitting up straight. “It’s because I—”

You clamped his mouth shut, a blush on your face. Mingi only rolled his eyes. Even when he was sad he had the strength to roll his eyes. Wow.

Despite yourself, the previous anger wasn’t as strong anymore. You didn’t think you would be so easy to forgive but you were. Was it because he apologized? He seemed so sincere that you knew it wasn’t a joke—Mingi can’t cry on command, he’s tried many times.

Surprisingly only Kihyun could.

He… he really loved you?

“Minnie,” you said, unable to hide the smile at his eager gaze from hearing his nickname. “Is it true… that you told the other members to back off?”

Mingi frowned before he silently nodded.

“Why….?”

He pulled your hand away from his mouth as he looked away. “They didn’t love you like I do. It was just simple infatuation…”

“How could you be so sure?”

Mingi raised an eyebrow, “Hyung, I’ve trained with them since I was fourteen… I’ve known them longer than you do. Besides, it’s not like they fought me on it… well not all of them.”

“All of them…? Did…?”

“One person disagreed.”

“Who?”

“Secret.”

“Mingi.”

“Ah, I can’t really remember.”

“You and Hyojin are the same, little shits.” You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “But still, that was wrong of you. You shouldn’t mess with anyone else’s feelings.”

Mingi looked as if he wanted to talk back but simply nodded. “Okay… it was two years ago anyway.”

“Two years ago?”

“Mhm. On my nineteenth birthday.”

“Ah.”

You wanted to ask more but it looked like Mingi was done talking. He rubbed at his eyes as he began wiping at his tear stained face. While you weren’t angry anymore, you still weren’t exactly so forgiving without any work on Mingi’s part.

“Minnie,” you said, watching as he perked up. “I’m still mad… so you can’t touch me at all for a month.”

His eyes widen as he stared at you as if you just told him his parents died in a plane crash. His lips wobbled as a pained grunt left him, he was obviously trying to plead a case but the rational part of him knew not to push it.

He looked as if he’d cry again.

You only smiled. “Punishment for calling your Hyung a whore. I think I’m being quite nice, don’t you think?”

Mingi squared his jaw. “Yes, Hyung…”

“Good boy.” You whispered, smirking at his pained expression. “You can’t sleep with me tonight, unless you want to sleep on the floor. Night, Minnie.”

Mingi was going to have a tough month.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

→ have you guys seen this performance??

→ 씨발! If I had a dick it’d be hard ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

→ who is this???

→ he sounds so good??

→ wish I could pay attention to the lyrics but his ass is distracting me

→ 대박! He sounds so stable

→ I found his group performances!!! Why is he so underrated??

→ does he have any other solo work?

→ my dick hard

→ the group sings so well, I’ll tune in for their comeback!!

→ his photo cards are cheap!! I’ll buy a dozen ㅋㅋㅋ

→ I think I came

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Three years ago

Mingi was confused. He saw so many fan accounts for other members. Way too many for himself—he didn’t get what was so special about him. But little to none accounts solely for you. The group had debuted a year ago, surely someone likes you enough to create an account?

He sighed, scrolling through the lists of popular Miras accounts. Why weren’t they praising you? You were the best, a great singer, dancer, and leader.

Was it because you didn’t fit the Korean beauty standards?

How stupid.

Mingi didn’t care about what fans thought of him so long as they liked the music—but it seemed to bother you that no one was giving you any attention.

So, he decided to rectify that.

It took him a minute but he soon figured out how to create an account.

He chose his profile picture—a picture from the group’s season greetings, one where you had frosting on your nose as you smiled at the camera.

He’d never use social media before so his generic names for the account were all taken. He didn’t know what else to name the stupid account as, it was just so he could post pictures and videos of you.

After a short break before he mentally crashed out, he decided on a different name.

Itsokokok

It was a lyric from the group’s debut title track. Your first line of the song. Not many people would probably know but that was fine with him. The account was honestly mainly for him.

He didn’t know what his first post should be so he decided on a picture he took of you. Luckily he had posted it on the group’s Instagram so no one would think anything of it. It was a candid photo, you were looking up from your phone because he had called your name. You looked so cute despite how tired you were.

His first ever picture of you was his first ever post.

Shit, he was down bad.

no smut this time, sorry yall, but chapter three will give yall what’s deserved, next week Friday. Trying something different with this OC. Anyway, next chapter, he’s about to get freaky. Also can you guess who was the member that refused Mingi’s request? ;)

죄송합니다 — is the most formal way to say sorry in Korean

Tag list: @euthymiko @love-kha1 @iwishtobeacrow @chill-guy-but-cooler @tehyunnie @tomoeroi @smellwell @remdayz @star-3214 @mooncarvers-world @rhetorical-conscience @cherry-blossoms-187 @ofclyde @the-ultimate-librarian @kiiyoooo @secretivemessenger @mello-life25 @yuzuukix @bensontrechic @onementally-unstabel-kid @me-when-life @bangbangdevotee @chaevvonders @bangchansdirty-slut @honey-valentin3 @hoshimochicchi @lucaisnothere @jaxyy219



[jinkiezzsstuff]

Hello! Can I plz request Alastor x Doe! Reader where he meets Charlie's best friend who's the reader and becomes possessive over her, maybe his instincts tell him to mark the reader as his mate. The reader is a white doe. :)

Yessss i love this idea teehee i maybe got carried away and also i unintentionally made this sort gender neutral and a teeny tiny speck of smut, i hope that’s okay if not it’s at the very end so it’s skipable, hopefully i did your idea justice and hope you enjoy!! thank you so much for this xx

At first sight

PART TWO PART THREE

Word count: 3.5K

Warnings: SMUT 18+, doe reader only describes white ears tail and pink nose rest is ambiguous, possibly corny ahh dialogue, love at first sight kinda trope, angel/hellborn reader, slightly OOC Al y’know smut love, reader cooks, biting & briefly blood, penetrative sex, reader makes deal with al to give themselves to him, swearing, NOT PROOFREAD I think that’s it lmk if i missed anything!!

Charlie ran manically around the hotel, fixing various things and studying the entire building under a microscope to ensure it looked its best. Zipping her way to the lobby, she caught the gaze of Angel Dust, who was in the middle of sucking down a frozen popsicle.

“Be nice today! Look your best, oh oh! No porn on the TV!” Charlie shouted rushed and frazzled as she came up beside Angel to fluff out the couch cushions. Husk watched silently ears zeroed in on the conversation unwillingly, focusing mainly on Angel. “Geez toots, what’s got your feathers in a bunch?”

Angel smiled amused by Charlies odd demeanour. “My best friend since, like, forever is coming here today! To see the hotel!” Charlie exclaimed lurching forward to grip Angels shoulders. Smirking at her Angel continued to suck on the popsicle. “So what, is this broad special or something?”

Charlie leaned back pulling her hands down her face, an exasperated groan crawling out from her throat. “Yes! Her mother was friends with my mom when they first came to hell, her mom ended up falling for a hell spawn and we born around the same time,” Charlie explained ringing her hands while pacing.

“She’s my best friend we grew up together, i’m worried she won’t like what i’m doing here.” Charlie finally confessed with a sigh, her body deflating as she herself came to terms with the fact she was afraid. Vaggie lingering in the background finally approached Charlie sticking her hand out to message her arm comfortingly. “I’m sure it’ll be fine toots! Plus she’s a born sinner! Ain’t no way anything here’s gonna be shocking her.”

Despite her worry she could admit Angel Dust was right, AND you’re her best friend there’s no way you’d be unnecessarily cruel to her dreams, you were always supportive and imaginative along with her. Smiling down at Angel, Charlie then plopped down beside him, resting her hooves after hours of hecticily running around. “You’re right Angel, thank you.” Angel hummed out an arrogant ‘you’re welcome’ while Vaggie circled the couch leaning over the back of it.

“So how long has it been since you’ve seen them?” Vaggie asked poking Charlie’s cheek. Looking away she counted on her fingers before turning to look at Vaggie. “Four years, they stayed with me while I tried getting over the absence of my mom; they live in wrath though and eventually went back.” Clapping her hands Charlie stood from the couch her brief moment of hoof rest over, the three sinners watching as she muttered to herself about everyone being on their best behaviour while walking off, clearly the talk only did a little to hush her nerves.

~

Standing outside the hotel doors your ears twitched at the sounds coming from beyond it, it’s clear as day that Charlie was instructing people to behave, be nice, and- not show you porn? Suddenly the door opened startling you slightly but that quickly wore off when you were greeted by the joyous face of your best friend Charlie. Tugging you into a bear hug, Charlie squealed about how excited she was, you naturally fell into her giving her a warm tight hug right back.

“I am so glad you’re here! I’m so happy to see you!” Charlie exclaimed pulling back and examining you. You hadnt seemed to change much to Charlie, the white tail you had wagged behind you happily, your equally platinum ears relaxed occasionally twitching at the sounds around you, your pink deer like nose that was perfectly contrasted with your skin colour.

It was clear you were half an angel, and Charlie lemented, when you two were younger, that she was jealous you had a more animalisitc appearance in comparison to her, but you reminded her that it didn’t matter because she was still as gorgeous as ever. “I’m so glad to be here! I was starting to think you’d never end up inviting me.” You laugh warmly.

Charlie beckoned you inside linking your arms together, the two of you walked inside. Vaggie was punctuated and ready to great you as you came further into the room. “Hi, I’m Vaggie-“ Vaggie was cut off promptly by Charlie who excitedly pulled her into a bear hug, cheek to cheek. “My girlfriend!” Charlie finished with a shout.

Your ivory tail flicked behind you happily as you grinned. “Holy shit! You’ve got a girlfriend? Damn we really need to catch up! Its so nice to meet you Vaggie.” You smile shaking her hand as she stuck it out, Vaggie only nodded smiling seemingly quite reserved.

After some rushed introduction of those around the room including Husk, Angel, Nifty, and Sir Pentious, Charlie took you to your room to settle in. Closing the door behind the two of you Charlie watched as you laid your suit cases down by the bed, unzipping them and pulling out your clothing. “Sooo,” Charlie trailed hands tucked behind her back as she wandered around the vacant room.

“You remember Alastor right? The radio demon?” Charlie questioned, sounding suspicious. Looking up from your folded laundry you quirked a brow fearing where this might be heading. “Yes… i do.” You say slowly, fixing your posture waiting for her to turn to you, but she seemed rather interested in the wallpaper. “Well… y’know… this hotel takes a lot…. and when i first started…” Charlie trailed off gazing out the open window, stepping towards her you carefully placed a hand on her shoulder.

Looking at you she knew there was no sense in keeping such a prominent part of the reason this hotel was possible secret. “Alastors here, he helped since the start. He hasn’t asked for anything in return and he’s already fought for us!” Charlie spat the words out so fast you barely had time to comprehend. You and her were raised around each other meaning you had the same interactions with many of the princes’, sins, and hellborn, but human overlords were always were more…. well they weren’t used to power and immortality so they often over did it, Alastor was no different from what you were aware of.

“Are you sure having him is a good idea? Does your dad know?” Charlie nodded confirming her dad did know. “Yeah he doesn’t know who Al is, and to be fair none of us did! I promise he’s not that bad. Give him a chance?” You hummed looking away as she looked to you, you didn’t want to upset her by the discomfort that would be evident in your eyes. You didn’t enjoy brawls and fights, and you fear the demon would initiate that.

“Well i suppose i could trust him if you do, but i am skeptical; you’re always seeing the light in demons, even when it’s not there.” You laughed out recalling some things of the past that ended poorly because of a Charlie’s trust in certain sinners. And though at times foolish it was still an admirable trait and you aspired to be as kind hearted as she could be. “Where’s the guy anyways?” You asked after a short moment of pondering.

Charlie shrugged looking as if she was trying to recount the day. “Well he did say he had a meeting with Rosie,” She muttered quietly, although you didn’t know who Rosie was, you didn’t bother questioning it instead you pat Charlie on the shoulder, telling her that you’d like to get some rest, and you’d worry about Alastor later.

And so you spent a bit of time unpacking your things and settling down, you always preferred to be more in touch with the animalistic parts of yourself so your belongings held a lot of earthy aesthetics to them. Sitting on your bed, stripped of the hotels sheets and remade with your own, you opened your laptop and began typing.

You had forgotten about Alastor for the most part but you remember Charlie brining it up as he began his tyranny after his death. Charlie had always been pretty involved with her people, mainly focusing her energy on human sinner so you weren’t surprised that she knew of him, you were however surprised she was so willing to let him in when he massacred her people.

After a few minutes of light research about the demon, you established with how long he was gone perhaps he would be willing to change however you’d keep up your guards just to be sure.

~

Humming to himself Alastor got ready for the day, though he rarely slept he did occasionally get into evening outfits if he was staying in. He fixed his hair, ensuring not a hair was out of place and with a finally dust of his sleeves, he materialized his microphone and trotted his way out of his room.

A new scent hit him the minute he got to the staircase, the reaction was instantaneous, his ears perked, his tail stiffened thank the hellions no one was around to witness his discomfort, because it was evident. Fixing his posture, and his smile, he pretended nothing was up and continued his way downstairs. He greeted Husk as usual, and like usual Husk only grunted at the demon.

Making his way into the kitchen Alastor was stunted in place by the sight in front of him. There you stood deer tail wagging, singing along to music as you mixed a bowl of who knows what together. Alastor observed you quietly as ever, and definitely not checking you out because that would be rude- however your tail was very much distracting.

Clearing his throat the static spitting out behind his voice, you jumped slightly at the sound of him, looking over your shoulder to where he stood at the kitchen entry. The two of you simply stared at each other for a moment, the song in the background seemingly quieter than before, as if the two of you were in your own little zone.

Alastor couldn’t describe the gravitational pull he had toward you, he would’ve been a fool to deny your beauty, but he’d never had issue admitting when a demon or person was beautiful, it didn’t matter to him, so he couldn’t grasp why you seemed to have an immediate effect on him.

You too felt similarly gawking at the sight of him, i mean you’d never seen pictures of him, only art or depictions, which really didn’t do him any good. You were honestly a little embarrassed, you thought he was incredibly handsome, contrary to your beliefs prior to this moment, and you felt a little silly to suddenly feel like going back on your apprehension about him simply because of how attractive he was.

Deciding to finally break the intense yearning gaze the two of you held, Alastor perked up stepping close to you swinging his hand out to shake. “Alastor darling, pleasure to meet you, quite the pleasure.” Going unnoticed by you, Alastor’s voice involuntarily dropped lower, making it come out more sultry than he’d ever done during an introduction. Of course Alastor was aware it wasn’t his normal voice and wondered why the hell he decided to modify his tone to come out as seductive as it did; was it just by nature?

“I’m YN, Charlie’s best friend. I don’t know if you knew i was staying but i am, surprise! Heh,” You say a little nervously sticking out your hand but quickly retracting it, as it was covered in dough. “I’m making bread and breakfast, do you like french toast?” You finish finally gaining the courage to meet his gaze properly.

His eyes were lidded, and he looked down at you only with his eyes keeping his head forward, which made you feel some type of way. He had such a big presence, height aside, that would make anybody on the receiving end of his heated gaze, shrink. “I suppose i wouldn’t mind a little bite to eat, tell me little doe, how do you make such a meal?”

Of course Alastor knew what french toast was, but he’d much prefer to play stupid so he could listen to you speak, and have you look up at him so deliciously. “Well, i’m making some homemade no yeast bread, and then i’m gonna do the egg and frying, normally i mix some cinnamon and honey in, but i might not since i don’t know what you guys like. A lot of people put syrup, but i can’t stand it; too sticky.” You explained mixing all of your ingredients, turning to him you smiled.

“Would you mind greasing the pan for me, please?” Alastor nearly purred at you with how you requested his help he would’ve bent himself backwards if it meant you’d ask him like that again. The way these emotions hit him in the gut; the undeniable feeling of desire he was trying to fight against was incredibly intense and oddly, he liked it. “Of course my dear, whatever you wish, i shall see to.” With the snap of his fingers his hair had been pulled back, suit jacket gone, leaving him in only his white button up, and a pink apron.

Shamessly your eyes roamed his figure watching as he began to grease the pan with his hand. His eyes still lidded and smile relaxed. You enjoyed how he stood tall and relaxed, and it was only now when you caught a peek of his red tail that you realized; “You’re a deer?”

Alastor paused momentarily, eyes lazily difting toward you. He didn’t mind that you saw his tail, and he was a little surprised you lacked to notice he was a deer. “What did you think i was sweetheart?” Alastor exclaimed his entertainment persona peeking through as he did. You peeled your eyes away feeling a little bad for staring at him, instead you focused on placing the bread into the bow greased pan before responding. “Maybe a fox, but to be honest i didn’t think too much about it.”

Alastor hummed in agreement, watching as you placed the bread in to the oven. There weren’t many does Alastor has seen, many bucks but does were more of a rarity. The two of you made breakfast, bantering about things here and there and getting to know one another.

“What’s earth like?” You asked watching him prepare dough for beignets which he insisted you tried as it was a lousiana breakfast staple- but also because he wanted to have you to himself just a bit longer, and show off his cooking skills. “What do you mean dear?” Alastor questioned brows furrowed slightly, but his inquiry came soft with no judgement. “I’m not human, moms an angel, dad was one of the few hell borns that kinda just popped up, we don’t know where he went to though, anyways i’ve never seen the earth.”

Now that, was news to him. He suspected you were something special based off the tugging feeling he had toward you, but being a literal angel wasn’t something he would’ve bet on, but should’ve guessed on. Without a worry in his mind, Alastor happily told you about his home in new orleans, what it was like being a radio host, how in got into voodoo, how he new some cajun french, as well as his mother.

Leaning on the counter head rested on his hand, looking at you dreamily while the beignets fried. “My mother was an angel, she was my biggest supporter at the time, the reason i kept pushing. I have the upmost respect for mothers like mine.” You, as equally lost in the dream like bliss Alastors presence brought you, smiled at his story’s ogling at the man who spoke so highly of his mom. “That’s the sweetest Alastor, I wish i could’ve met the woman who made you into such a gentlemen.” You flirt subtly gently patting his arm.

Alastor hummed a lovesick smile on his face his tail wagging happily behind him as the two of you continued to yap. Tails syncing with the way they swayed unnoticed by you two as you lost yourselves in eachother, also going unnoticed was Charlie giddy as could be, in the background jumping up and down. Slipping away to Vaggie, Charlie gripped her like she was her life line. “YN and Alastor are totally going to get together! Ahh!” Charlie squealed shaking a limp Vaggie back and forth.

~

“Mhm Alastor please please please,” You chant wrapped tightly around the demons waist, as he pressed you up against your dresser. After a full day of being alongside Alastor the tension snapped between you two, although it took a few things to get there. First Angel hitting on you right after breakfast, it made Alastor seethe the symbols and static materializing as he watched Angel hit on you. It made Alastor realize such a sweet doe like you must be marked, can’t have other buck or demon filth thinking they can just put there hands on you.

The second thing that egged him on was when the two of you went for a stroll together, and while in a store witnessed a demon repeatedly harass you while you simply tried to pick out a dress! Alastor apologized for the blood shed, but he professed he needed to obliterate that demon to protect you and that would be the only time he would ever put you in a position to see such things. Which made your heart flutter, you felt the desire to have him protect you, it’s not like you couldn’t do it yourself but it made you weak in the knees to have a demon like Alastor jumped to protect you.

Thrusting into you needily, Alastor growled like a mad man his hand climbing up your body to grab your cheeks gently fixing your gaze up to him. “You’re mine,” Static laced his tone as he hissed out at you, pushing his body flush to yours. Moaning like a whiny porn star, you nodded in your head in a daze. “My mate,” He muttered again breathing deeply as he clenched his teeth.

Reaching your hands up to grab his antlers that sprout, you couldn’t help the way your body shook and the way you lewdly moaned. You felt so electrified and couldn’t contain the pleasure Alastor was making you feel. “Please Al, I love it so good,” You whined against his lips, his smile closed and strained as his lips brushed against yours, your breath tickling him as you whined.

Smashing your lips together Alastor picked up the pace feeling like a wild animal. He wanted you, forever, he wanted you to be his one and only, his only doe. Making himself hornier with the thought of having you all to himself his static crackled loudly as he thought up something mischievous. Pulling back from your heated kiss, you whined begging him to kiss you, touch you and fuck you, smiling at you in your disheveled state, a green huge suddenly engulfed the room.

The two of you lit up like neon as symbolize shined in the background. “Give yourself to me little doe, be my mate for entirety and the world is yours, anything you or your friends want i will give you. I can’t let such a thing like you go, i need you.” Alastor statically said, it sounded quite ominous but you were too horny to pick up on that, you could only pay attention to the need you had between your legs and in your heart. Alastor wanted you to be his forever, linked to you for eternity. Perhaps it was the fact that you were both deer that you two had this simultaneous connection, but regardless you couldn’t care you just wanted him back as much as he wanted you.

Thrusting yourself upward into him, you gripped his hand, while clenching down on him at the same time. “Yes, always i’m yours only; it’s a deal.” You moaned. Growling demonically Alastors green disputes like electricity, escaping this room and flowing through the hotel like wave. Feeling his heart bloom Alastors ears clipped back as he jackhammered into you, the dresser slamming against the wall while you squealed a little giggle bubbling out from how needy he became. That giddiness left as a violent hot mass washed over you, screaming out a moan you clutched Alastor, singing out his name through moans of appreciation as he coaxed you with praises through your orgasm.

It shook your body, and soon after Alastor came to a halt inside you, biting down hard on your neck. You moaned his name, not even feeling pain as he sunk his teeth into you down to the gum. After a few moments of licking up your blood he pulled away gazing into your fucked out eyes. As you were about to tell Alastor that you needed to figure out why you were both so suddenly connected, Charlie bolted in.

“YOU MADE A DEA- FUCK IM SORRY!” Within the span of two seconds Charlie had two separate panic attacks, one because she saw the green deal making light shoot through the hotel while you were alone with Al, and the second right after she closed to door from seeing the two of you intertwined at the hips.

[whokilledsamara]

May I request a NSFW alphabet for our deranged, red ass, momo-eyed princess Mr Scarletta from Homicipher👉👈˃ᴗ˂

MR. SCARLETELLA NSFW ALPHABET

a Mr. Scarletella nsfw alphabet. {an : omg.. why ofc.. hes sooo hot i love him. also funny words >< we need more porn of this man in general, also im working on a hc fic for him~~~~ if nobody will write for him then i will!!! ^•^}

warnings! : stalking, non-conish..? more like dub-con, rough sex, cunnilingus, blowjobs, yandere, blood kink, knife play, hes a kinky mf, abuse play, asphyxiation, afab and amab genitalia described, sadism kink, red. everywhere. miss-use of an umbrella.... looks around nervously

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

it really depends on his mood. USUALLY he is somewhat decent at it. he doesnt really understand the human need for aftercare, so most he will do is probably clean you and cuddle you on certain occasions.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

for him, he likes his hands. and his height, but mainly his hands. {plus you complimented them once, so it made him like them more.}

on YOU, other than your face, definitely your waist and neck. he likes how fragile you are. also he likes YOUR height. small.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

due to his sheer size, he cums a lot. not TOO much, and not as much as the others, but enough to fill you to the brim.

he almost always cums inside, unless its a blowjob. if it is, he likes to pull out and cum on your face or chest. make sure to have your tongue out though.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he really wants to fuck you unconscious. though not really a secret, he makes it obvious.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

you would be his first time, being a ghost and all. but hes a very fast learner so expect him to be a beast in bed {or wherever} once he finds those spots and what turns you on.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

any position that he can choke you in. or shove his fingers in your mouth. he would take another position if you offered though. he just wants you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

even outside of sex, he isn't humorous. hes always serious with that stare that he does {soo sexy.. (´﹃｀)}

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

not a lot, but its there. nice red happy trail and hair where it would be normally.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

well he's always romantic. in his own... creepy way. but he does love you. too much. in an obsessive, stalker way. so yes, he is.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he doesn't, nor does he feel the need to, but if he finds YOU touching yourself.. thats a special occasion, he WILL whip it out and start stroking himself then. and only then.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

oh dear.. blood kink, abuse kink, impact kink, vouyerism, asphyxiation, degradation, cnc, etc

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

either his "space" or somewhere random. {he secretly hopes someone will find you}

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

coprophilia, vomit. thats literally it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

prefers giving. you are his QUEEN. {king if you prefer.} he is a beast with his mouth. he would do anything you ask, much like Mr. Crawling.

he does enjoy receiving though, loves to see you go down on him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

fast and rough. will only slow down if you BEG him to.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

anything to get you and him off. he does prefer to take his time with you, so usually he will just teleport you somewhere.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

obviously. i mean its Mr. Scarletella that we are talking about. {drools...} he would do anything risky.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

doesnt have stamina, could go for hours honestly. he can cum pretty fast if he wants to, but either way he just wants YOU.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

no he doesnt own any. {unless you count his umbrella... well get to that later..}

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

oh all the time. constantly teasing you and trying to get you horny. if you tease him back then its OVER for you.. good luck walking ><

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

not loud at all, his breath may hitch and he might groan softly every now and then, but he wants to listen to your noises more than anything.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he will use his umbrella handle as a "dildo" of sorts. wants to watch you attempt to put it in. the end is curved, so its fun to watch you struggle. he will force it if he has to.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

oo,, big boy. hes over 8 feet tall, so its a given. his shaft is around 8-9 inches maybe, a darker tip and maybe 3 inches wide.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

hes only horny if either you are, or if you do something that turns him on.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

doesnt need sleep, he is a ghost. does enjoy watching you sleep. hes weird, per se. will cuddle up to you and get you as close as possible.

[chaussetteblanche]

and they were roommates pt. 2

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

part 1, part 3, part 4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hello, hope you're a having a good day

Could you write something about 141 x reader where the sparring session turns a little too not your usual sparring (if you know what I mean). The reader and them being all sweaty and shit and like the sexual tension that's been there for a while. This idea has been plaguing my mind since forever. Thank youuuu

Haha! Yes! Omg, I love it. Okay, for this, I didn't go full smut. When someone mentions sexual tension, I tend to hyperfocus on that and want to bathe in it. Give me naughty thoughts and flirting-maybe even some actual physical contact that borders on dangerous territory. Give me the yearning! I want to giggle and kick my feet and think about what might happen later.

So, I indulged in that regard! I had lots of fun with this. Thank you so much for sending it in!!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x TF141!Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, knife play, grinding, rough kissing, caught in the act, training, naughty thoughts, mutual yearning

Word Count: 2.4k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Come on. Come at me.”

Soap rolls his shoulders and then brings his fists up in a fighting stance. He makes a “go on” gestured with his hands.

Every muscle in your body is sore. Tired doesn’t even begin to describe how you’re feeling. But you want to best Soap. He’s been on your ass for weeks now—insisting that the two of you should spar together. It’s not the sparring that makes you warm and tingly but the way he suggests it.

Always leaning in. Standing far too close. Bumping your shoulder with his.

Soap waits, but you’re not sure how to proceed. So far, you’ve been completely unsuccessful. As if knowing all your moves, Soap has dodged each blow and kick, effortlessly taking you down to the mat every time you thinking you’ve ensnared him.

Stealth is more your thing. Creeping around in the shadows. Taking out opponents from afar. A sniper scope is your friend. Hand-to-hand isn’t.

You lunge for him and Soap steps back. Fist missing him, you sidestep and go for a jab in the stomach. Soap slaps your hand away, and you want to yell in frustration.

“Sloppy today,” chides Soap, grinning like this amuses him.

It probably does. He’s one for a good laugh.

This time you feign, and Soap takes it, moving in. You’re ready for him, turning out of his swing to duck beneath and then aim for the face. Soap rises to block, and opens a clear line to his groin.

Fucking beautiful.

Lifting your foot, you don’t tap him hard, just enough for his cheeks to go pink. Soap grunts, and you chuckle.

“Shouldn’t have left yourself—”

With an oof, your back smacks against the tumble mat beneath you. Soaps snags your wrists and pins them above your head. You go to kick out at him, but Soap’s knees are between your legs. He shoves them wider.

You’re completely trapped beneath him.

And in a completely inappropriate position.

From where you’re pinned, you notice the small beads of sweat on his brow and how a few pieces of hair stick to his skin. Though his chest is covered by a shirt, it’s snug, with every muscle on display. Those powerful thighs of his press against yours in such a way that you’re imagining nothing between your bodies.

Would he feel this powerful over you if the two of you were elsewhere? Perhaps, somewhere more private. Somewhere without a tumble mat. Somewhere with a bed.

“Can’t harm the goods, love,” says Soap, his voice husky. You’re not sure if it’s from the close contact or from the tap you gave his crotch.

“Then don’t leave them vulnerable,” you reply, almost not recognizing the sound of your own voice. It too is husky as if dipped in desire.

The middle of Soap’s brow scrunches slightly. His gaze travels downward to linger on your lips and then further still until you sense him admiring more than he is observing.

“Soap—”

His gaze snaps upward. “Johnny,” he corrects. “Think we’re on closer terms.”

“Are we?” you ask, as his hips start to relax.

The press of him against you is apparent, and the hardness there is poking at you. Insistent. And you don’t want to ignore it.

Instead, you press upward, grinding against him.

Soap—no—Johnny, makes a sound in his throat.

One moment you’re under him and then you’re in his lap, the two of you sitting up, staring into each other’s eyes. Your heart hammers in your chest, and your hands fists the front of his shirt.

“You—”

“Are we interrupting something?”

You and Johnny turn just as Ghost and Gaz enter the gym. Gaz has a towel draped over his shoulder. The water bottle he holds it half-way towards his mouth before he freezes, gaze locked on you and Johnny.

Ghost cocks his head, arms crossed over his chest.

You’re speechless. Lost. Your mind hasn’t caught up.

But Johnny’s has.

With a twist, Johnny rolls and then lightly tosses you off him as if the two of you were simply practicing and not staring into each other’s eyes.

“You want a go, Lt?” asks Johnny.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“You up for another round?” asks Kyle.

The man is grinning like he could do this all day. You’re sore everywhere—ready to collapse from exhaustion. Hand-to-hand combat is not your thing which is why you’re here in the training room with Kyle.

Yes, you need practice, but you’ve also had your eye on him, admiring him when you think no one is looking. It’s an excuse for some alone time.

“I’d rather eat glass,” you mutter, snatching up your water bottle and drinking the last of it.

“Hate me that much?” he teases.

“So much so that I wanted to spend the afternoon beating your ass.”

Kyle bursts out laughing. He snatches the water bottle out of your hand and aims it at you, squeezing. There’s nothing in it. A few measly drops hit your face and then you lunge for him. Kyle jumps back and extends his arms outward.

“One more round.” He winks. “Come on, love.”

He’s being cheeky, and your blood is pumping.

Kyle tosses your water bottle to the side as you stride forward. His arms go up, and then the two of you are nothing but flying fists and feet. He’s faster, blocking every blow you send his way.

Sweat accumulates on your brow and on the back of your neck, dripping down your spine. You lick your lips, taste the salt from the sweat.

You duck. Swing. Kyle snatches your wrist and twists, pinning your arm behind you. With a sharp jab of your elbow, you nail Kyle in the stomach, freeing yourself.

As you spin to lash out, Kyle is right there, in your space, blocking all movement. You try to step back, to allow space in your next strike, but Kyle rushes in. The two of you are twisted up. Falling. Slamming into the mat on the floor.

You shove and Kyle resists, his strength outmatching yours. With cheek pressed into the mat, you have nowhere to go. You’re completely on your stomach, and all of Kyle’s weight is on you. He breathes heavily, chest heaving. You feel his breath against your skin, and the contact only sends your skin into a shiver.

Your mind drifts, lingering in places it shouldn’t. Worse—Kyle is aroused. His hardness pokes at your ass. But whether he notices or not is unclear.

“You’re improving,” he says.

“I have a good teacher.”

Kyle makes a noise that sounds like agreement. Every muscle is tense, and even Kyle’s hold on you seems laced with something harsh. But then it eases. Softens. His grip loosens enough that you roll onto your side, glancing up at him.

He is so goddamn close. Just a gentle tilt of the head and your lips would meet his. It wouldn’t be that hard. He’s right there.

Kyle blinks, and then his gaze trails downward, lingering on your lips.

“We,” he begins. “We shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

His thumb traces along the side of your throat, and your eyelids flutter with contentment. A little moan escapes you, and you hear Kyle’s sharp inhale.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck it.”

His thumb becomes his whole hand. Holding you in place, Kyle goes all in, claiming your lips with his. It is dominating, and you happily give in to him.

John Price

Your back hits the tumble mat with a sharp slap. The exposed portions of your shoulders and back sting from the contact.

"Again."

Groaning, you push up to a seated position. "We've been at this for hours."

"And you need practice," counters Price.

He's hatless. And shirtless. Only in cargo pants and boots, Captain Price's bare skin glistens with sweat. You won't pretend that the sight of him like this doesn't intrigue you. For months now you've been observing Captain Price in more than just a professional manner. It's hard not to, and the sweat-drenched man before you isn't helping things.

Captain Price runs his fingers through his hair, taking a step back. The casualness to the movement causes your stomach to twist with desire. Your body betrays you, and you have no idea if these feelings are entirely one-sided. Sometimes you think you might gleam a notion of his thoughts, but it always manages to slip through your grasp.

Price offers his hand, and an idea forms.

You extend yours, but don't close the distance. Price is the one that leans forward to do so. It's the perfect opportunity. When your fingers close around his, you tug back, throwing him off balance.

Price tips forward, and you turn to the side as he crashes down to the mat. In one fluid movement, you roll Price onto his back and straddle his stomach.

"Never let your guard down. That's what you always say."

Price's eyes widen slightly before softening. The corner of his mouth twitches into a hint of amusement. It immediately sends heat flaring through you.

"I do," he replies, and it's nearly a coo.

That smirk of his widens into an actual smile, and then it's you on your back and Price straddling. You strike out with an elbow but Price catches your swing, trapping your arms above your head. He bends forward a bit, and it is then that you feel the stiffness against your stomach.

Price makes no move to hide it, and you don’t dare glance downward.

"You need to do better-"

"Captain."

Price immediately recoils, sitting up and releasing your arms. You twist to look behind you, only to find Ghost and Soap standing nearby. Ghost is ever the silent observer, but Soap's head is slightly tilted to the side, the middle of his brow pinched like he's not sure what's happening.

"Meeting starts in five,” says Soap. “Came to find you."

Price coughs and then he's off you, kneeling and offering you a hand again. You don't try to knock him down.

"Just going over some pointers,” replies Price.

"Pointers?" deadpans Ghost and you shoot him a look. He shrugs at you, gaze lingering before moving to his captain.

"Give me ten minutes. Shower. Then I'll be there."

Captain Price gives you a quick glance before walking off with Soap. Ghost crosses his arms over his chest and just stares.

“What?" you snap

"Pointers," he repeats.

"Oh, fuck off, Simon."

He chuckles and turns to follow the two out of the training room.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

"Your posture is terrible."

"That's very helpful, Lieutenant,” you deadpan.

"Are you sassing me?"

"No."

Simon shakes his head and sighs. “Can’t throw a knife accurately if you’re hunched like a goblin.”

“Goblin,” you mutter under your breath. “Asshole.”

“What was that?”

You clear your throat. “Seems easy, Lieutenant. You just throw the pointy end at the enemy.”

Simon grunts and then grabs your raised arm. "You won't hit anything standing like that."

You resist his pull but you're outmatch when it comes to strength. With one hand on your arm and one on your waist, Simon shifts you into position.

"Like this," he instructs, bringing your arm back. "Firm grip. Feet pointed forward." Simon releases your arm but his hand on your waist remains. "Throw. At the target."

You let the knife fly. It strikes just right of the bullseye.

"Again,” nods Simon.

"Really?"

Simon slowly drops his hand from your waist, the tips of fingers lingering a second longer than necessary.

Removing a knife from his boot, Simon flips it end over end. "We could hone your skills a different way."

"What way?"

“Grab your knife and find out.”

Stalking toward the bullseyes, you yank out the knife, joining Simon in the sparring ring. He bends at the knee, crouching into a fight stance. You mimic the movement.

Simon lunges first and you sidestep. But he's quick for such a large man. He moves around and behind you so fast he's almost a blur.

Grabbing your wrist, Simon lightly twists and pins you against his front, the knife tip pointed at your throat.

"Again,” he growls.

Simon lightly shoves you away. You spin. Striking out. He slaps your arm down and raises his own, the knife tip pointed at your throat for a second time.

"Again."

Showing your teeth, you charge at him, barreling into him at the middle. Simon staggers but doesn't faulter. He attempts to toss you off him, but you remain firm, grabbing hold.

This unloads him, his weight toppling with you. The two of you go down. Simon rolls you onto your back, his body pressed to yours, knife at your throat again.

"Better,” he says. “Still needs improvement."

You go to shove him off, but Simon doesn't budge. He remains where he is, and every point of contact is like an electrical spark. Even his face is close, balaclava nearly scratching against your skin. There is not part of him you’re not touching.

Awareness settles in.

Simon is all hardness over you.

"Have any tips you can give me?" you reply.

His gaze slowly lowers to your lips. His hips shift slightly, something stiff poking against your inner thigh.

“I have one,” he murmurs.

Bet I can guess.

“How do you want it?” he continues.

"You're the expert," you reply softly, hooking your leg over the back of his.

It's an invitation, one you aren't sure he'll take.

There’s a brief pause, and then Simon hums in agreement. It’s a pleased sound, one that instantly makes you shiver. Without taking the knife from your throat, he closes the distance, lips pressing against yours through the balaclava.

Heat erupts, the knife in your hand forgotten on the floor as you grab at him, fingers digging in.

It's only a tease. You want the real thing.

"What's the tip?" you ask once he breaks the connection.

Simon answers by grinding his hips against yours.

That one. Got it.

“We should—”

A door slams from somewhere down the hall. Simon’s head snaps up. The knife disappears, and then Simon is pushing himself away, kneeling beside you. His head is turned toward the main doors, but no one enters.

“It’s late,” you say. No one should be coming this way.

He turns back to you. “Your knife skills are shit.”

You groan. “I know. Goblin hunch. Got it.”

Simon snorts, and offers his hand. You take it, and he pulls you into a seated position. “Just a few more rounds,” he says, and then with a husky twinge to his tone, “and then I’ll go make sure the locker room is clear.”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @cherryofdeath @ferns-fics

@tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @miaraei @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @no-oneelsebutnsu @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction

@weasleytwins-41 @saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey

@mudisgranapat @lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza

@nishim @voids-universe @iloveslasher @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@umno-yeah @daemondoll @jackrabbitem @lxblm @arrozyfrijoles23

@lovely-ateez @ash-tarte @enarien @gingergirl06 @greeniegreengreen

[causenessus]

i definitely got way too deep into this and started my aforementioned 2 hour long video essay analysis of drunk walk home so here's the rest of my tags that don't fit </3

DRUNK WALK HOME

chapter one: morning after

masterlist

“i hear my heart breaking tonight / do you hear it too?” -pink in the night by mitski

cw: mention of/implied drinking problem

extras!

mattsun and tendou are #1 yn defenders for life it does not matter if she is wrong/in the wrong (and she is the majority of the time)

yn spent a good chunk of time on her own drinking herself into oblivion and trying not to care about the fact that she was crying in public before she called tendou

akaashi yn beef is deep and long-running (we will absolutely get into it)

he has not filter when it comes to yn and he hardly even tries

yn is still nursing that hangover and has not even once asked for her phone back she is too nervous and humiliated to even look at it

this is kinda chaotic and messy and it was kinda supposed to be but im sorry if this sucks im not confident abt it yet lol

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @bedeater @deluluforcarlos55 @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @causenessus @kawaii-angelanne @thatonecroc @v1oletfury @lonesomedrive @nnnyxie @crownj1min @frvppe @mollyrolls @karasyuu @ciderscape @phoenix-eclipses @s1ckntw1st3d @cnnmairoll @soobin1437 @worldgyu @snail-squasher @dragonictears @ferntv @reignsaway @Lisoozi @staygoldsquatchling02 @gsyche @yuminako @spicana @hermaeusmorax @shoyostar @whorefornoodles @hqsimprevival2024 @atsumuenthusiast @lemonocityyy @itsdragonius @robinphobia @aboveasphodel @savemebrazilhinata @lllaw @dreamingofyeo @milesmoralesluvs @miliondollagirl @kitnootkat @soulfullystarry @bows4life