#want to put every difference of opinion down to

[dollyyun]

DKP 7.4, FINALE (incomplete draft)

note: this is not proofread, so what you're about to read is the finale in its raw form with horrendous typos, grammatical errors and some paragraphs and even dialogues that don't make sense so don't expect much.

also way below are spoilers/details of the unwritten scenes (also in its raw form aka messy af) again i’m sorry if they don’t make any sense. i promise the revamped will be better. do send asks if you have anything to clarify!

wc: 11.9K

Time eventually became a valuable essence you began appreciating more, as well as cultivating your career, your friendships, your familial ties, and most especially your relationship with the guys that continues to blossom, because days turned into weeks, and weeks slipped into months just like how time slipped between your fingers before you could even grasp onto it a little longer.

Just thinking about the journey you sailed throughout those periods has you breaking into a soft grin while the upturned shape of your lips can be felt on his shoulder, prompting him to cast a quick glance down at you with a raised eyebrow. It is as though the past recollections are a memorable playback in your mind with waves of nostalgia descending on you benignly. 

It has been three months since you agreed to and established a polyamorous relationship with the guys, but it certainly was not all sunshine and rainbows ─ not saying that you often had arguments with them or that your relationship was all toxic. In fact, the guys genuinely and solemnly stayed true to their words in regards to treating you better than they did before.

But at the end of the day, they’re humans too, so flaws were inevitable. There were moments when you got into minor disputes with them and felt infuriated by their actions that ticked you off the same way they felt towards yours. However, a clear rule had been established that was deemed important in your relationship: listen and hear each other out before proceeding to the communication stage, followed by any needed consolation.

Those moments were rare, but they happened, and it is cliché to say this, but after every argument or petty dispute, your relationship seemed to improve significantly each time, and you slowly began to understand each other’s flaws and complexities better with open minds. You also acknowledged that not once did they ever raise their voice or hand at you during arguments, even if anger brimmed in their veins, and you appreciated that, just as you began to appreciate every little thing they did.

To the guys, their love for you outweighs anything else, and they treasure you more than you will ever know, which is why their anger would always be short-lived, as all that mattered to them was you running and seeking comfort and home in their arms at the end of the day. All in all, they had been nothing but amazing lovers in spite of their flaws and differences.

Speaking of differences, the dynamic flow in your relationship is oddly smooth, considering that each of them has a primal instinct of possessiveness towards you, but somehow, they make it work, and no schedule is needed when it comes to the fairness of spending time with you individually. Likewise, how being in a relationship with four guys didn’t feel as awkward to you as it was in the very beginning.

Plus, your friends in Milan were informed of your new relationship status, and they were more than accepting that you’re a taken woman. Initially, you did have some lingering worries about your friend’s differing opinions despite being accepting, but they treated you just the same, only putting a little more distance now with Eunwoo and Wooseok. The two older guys have known and seen how possessive your boyfriends could get, and so they respected your boyfriends enough to establish more boundaries between you and them. But to you, the two men probably wanted to save their hide from your lovers, who are more than capable of doing any form of harm.

As for Jennifer, she still doesn't particularly like your boyfriends, but after seeing how evidently happier you are compared to the years she spent with you, she couldn’t deny that your being in a relationship with them was right and meant to be. Of course, she gave a strict warning to your boyfriends, albeit they didn’t feel threatened by her, about breaking your heart again and taking good care of you on the day she, along with her father and your boyfriends, helped you in moving out.

Moving out of your apartment, especially when it was Jennifer’s father who generously gifted your once-humble abode to you, was honestly a challenging decision because even though you were totally psyched about living with your boyfriends, your apartment held both bittersweet memories of both hardships and ease.

As for Jennifer’s father, aka Mr. Huh, his reaction was not what you expected, albeit he looked a tad astounded after he had been told of your polyamorous relationship. Since he took you under his wing for quite a period of time and regarded you like his second daughter, it was natural for you to feel obliged to formally introduce your boyfriends to him, and you couldn’t lie about how nervous you were for them because Mr. Huh is an austere man who is fiercely protective towards his loved ones and has high standards, but much to your surprise, he seemed accepting and amiable enough to welcome them to the family on behalf of your parents.

Upon watching the interaction between your father figure and the loves of your life, you couldn’t help with the guilt pulling at your heartstrings of making the decision to move out of your apartment as you felt incredibly indebted to Mr. Huh for everything he had done and for supporting you when you had nothing in the beginning of your new journey here. You consulted about living with your boyfriends permanently with both Jennifer and Mr. Huh, and you even apologised to him profusely with tears filling your waterline, but the elder reassured you that he understood your decision and remained a supportive father figure till this day. 

Both Jennifer and Mr. Huh wanted you to worry less about such trivial matters and instead, they genuinely wanted you to be happy with your life and your blooming relationship because you deserved it after going through different stages of tribulation. Just like your boyfriends, your comfort and happiness matter the most to the father-daughter duo.

On the other hand, the guys moved into the mansion two weeks before the actual date of their lease termination over the penthouse that also held memories you made with them. They refused to do it at the very last minute, and plus, it would be convenient for them in advance as they wanted to focus on helping you with packing and moving out after dealing with paperwork and other vital issues at hand.

Moving in was the easiest part, considering you had more help than you would’ve thought, but to unpack your stuff from the boxes was simply gruelling that you had to take a day to take a breather before resuming it on the day after instead. Thankfully, your room had already been meticulously furnished by them, so it lessened your burden as you only needed to unpack and organise your stuff; even so, you felt easily fatigued.

When you first stepped into your designated bedroom, a wave of nostalgia hit you like whiplash in the face while you were in awe at how similar the design and layout were to your old bedroom back at the palace in Seoul ─ the walls were painted in cream that made the room more spacious than it already was, a queen-sized bed with upholstered bedframe that looked like puffs of clouds pressing up against the wall where the windows were nearly situated and by the window sill had ample space for at least four people to sit on top of the white fleecy cushion, your very own personalised makeup vanity corner with a full-length mirror next to it, and a fairly big walk-in closet for your clothes and other storage.

You felt the sincerity and love in their efforts in the way they organised and designed your room, rendering you overwhelmed and tearing up as you felt deeply touched. The guys panicked when a single tear rolled down your cheeks, but you chuckled and reassured them that you were being melodramatic. Of course, you didn’t forget to deliver your utmost gratitude to them even though they insisted that it was nothing and that they were simply doing their job as your lovers.

Frankly, it took you almost a week to finally settle in with the help of the guys, even though they had work obligations to fulfil during the daytime, but that also meant depriving you of being intimate with them. Hence, you took the liberty to organise and create schedules for each of them who would be having individual appointments on different days with you.

The sensation of warm, soft lips pressing into your cheek pulls you out of your reverie as you blink your eyes repeatedly before looking at Jake, who has been observing you with curious eyes. “What got you smiling like that, sweetheart?” He asks with an amused smile, placing his hands on your bare thighs and rubbing them in soothing motions as you are perched comfortably on his lap with your folded legs encasing his outer thighs while he is seated on his computer chair.

“Nothing much. Just thinking about our love-life,” You say lightly with a sheepish smile on your lips, eliciting a breathy yet fond chuckle from him as he leans back into his chair leisurely, his posture no longer as tense as earlier. You take a glance over your shoulder, looking back to see his computer screen that displays data and code that you are unable to decipher while a frown slowly tugs at the corners of your lips. “Are you still not done with work yet?”

You don’t want to sound like a whiny, clingy girlfriend, but this time, impatience is absent from within you. Unfortunately, Jake’s appointment with you clashed with his impromptu work schedule that required him to complete his follow-up tasks. Despite the disappointment, you understood that he must attend and fulfil his work obligation since he’s the head of the security team after all.

So you decided to hang around his personalised office room, but boredom eventually struck you, and your patience was running thin as you watched him in his element. Though it had been half an hour since you settled in his office, you chose to admire his handsomeness that nearly enticed you to pounce on him like an untamed animal to kill the time, but it was ineffective to your boredom. Somehow, Jake was able to sense your dampened, sulky temperament as his work forced him to neglect you for more than it should, and so he beckoned you over to sit on his lap while waiting for him to finish. 

You obviously felt keen and rushed to him, nearly tripping over some wires that had him chuckling at your clumsiness. Your short pleated skirt allowed easy access for you to settle your thighs over the sides of his as you managed to perch on his lap comfortably with your arms around him, to which he didn't mind and instead adjusted his seating position for your arms to wrap comfortably around him.

Every so often, you would rest your chin on top of his broad shoulder and give him tender kisses on his neck in an attempt to ease him whenever you felt his body tense up while listening to the sound of keyboards being pressed behind you. Of course, you did not miss the opportunity to bury your nose into his chest, nuzzling and inhaling his scent that offered you solace with his warmth cocooning you like a safety blanket. Despite being focused on his work, he would smile or press a tender kiss on your crown at your every action that he finds endearing.

Seeing the adorable pout on your kissable lips, Jake chuckles breathily as he grabs your hand before pressing a tender kiss on your knuckle in apology. “I’m finally done with my last task. I’m sorry you had to wait for so long.” He leans back against his chair, his head tilting lightly yet adorably while he gives you a boyish grin that sends familiar flutters to your beating heart. “I’m all yours now, lovely. So what do you want to do?”

“Honestly, I just want to cuddle with you and be close to you like this.” You tell him rather bashfully while his eyes soften as he gazes at you with an unmistakable fondness, knowing that you haven’t gotten the chance to be closely intimate with him alone ever since you settled in the mansion for a week now. “We can also watch some movies after cuddling or make something in the kitchen. Plus, I’m kind of craving s'mores.”

Jake nods his head meaningfully before leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. “Anything my girl wants,” His voice is laced with affection, and his eyes are gazing at you adoringly, which has you feeling all giddy. “You said you want to cuddle, right? We can cuddle comfortably there.”

Holding your thighs securely, Jake rises from the computer chair as he carries you with ease while you instinctively wrap your arms around him with your legs locking around his waist securely. He proceeds to amble across the other side of his office room. “We can do it like this.” He suggests with a mischievous grin, letting himself fall backward while squeals leave your lips as you hold onto him tight, embracing yourself for the incoming impact before he finally lands on the beanbag with a grunt that sounds huskily low and has you feeling something else straight in your lower stomach.

As the last of your giggles wane, you feel a palpable shift in the air around you, something rather raw yet intimate, before noticing the way Jake gazes at you with intense yet adoring fondness as he strokes the back of your head gently with his fingers playing intermittently at your strands. “I’d love to cuddle with you more than anything, but I feel a little tired, sweetheart. Plus it feels nice to hug you like this. What if I fall asleep?”

“Then sleep. You deserve it. Besides, you’ve been working for over two hours." You reassure him, smiling softly as you see how his eyelids are getting heavier with each passing second. You lift your head up for a bit to place a tender kiss on his lips before murmuring. “I love you, Sim Jaeyun.”

Jake smiles lazily against your lips, and just before you can pull away, he cradles the back of your head with his palm and presses your lips into his, kissing you deeply. The kiss feels sensual yet so innocent, his lips moving with yours tenderly in an unfamiliar dance, but soon enough, you feel something hard poking your lower abdomen that has you gasping softly into the kiss. Just like that, the last traces of sleep dissipate as his kisses begin to feel ravenous in the way his lips devour yours, utterly insatiable.

“Jaeyun,” You utter his name breathlessly as he pulls away from your lips, only to be startled when he switches position before you find yourself leaning on the beanbag with your legs being forcefully spread by his frame, barely giving you time to process the change of once tender atmosphere when he leans down and captures your lips in a kiss that demonstrates his desperation for you.

“Change of plans, sweetheart,” Jake rasps against your parted lips as you pant for air. He gives you no opportunity to recover from the nearly heated makeout session when he moves down to assault your bare neck with his ravenous lips, kissing and sucking your skin that forms a new hickey while your breaths become rapid with breathy moans leaving your lips as you buck up your hips, causing your clit to throb incessantly at the sensation of his hard bulge grinding directly at your clothed cunt.

“Are you not tired?” You manage to ask breathily despite your head spinning with desire for this insatiable man. You feel his hand moving underneath the material of your shorts and panties while your heart pounds harder in anticipation as his fingers nearly reach your throbbing clit.

“I’m feeling rather famished for something else,” His husky voice sounds heavenly in your ear, and there is an unmistakable desire in the cadence of his voice, borderline ravenous, that you feel giddy at the thought of him devouring you until you are reduced to nothing. He pulls away, only to meet your eyes and smirk down at you as he sees the utter want in your pretty eyes. His smirk melts into a soft grin for a fleeting moment, murmuring gently. “I love you more, my sweetheart."

Loving Sim Jaeyun is so easy, and you always find yourself falling in love with him over and over again. He is annoyingly mischievous at times, but he never does anything to upset you and tries his best. Even when you have already known that he is the most volatile with his emotions and his past diagnosis with borderline personality disorder, your love for him only grows as days pass. Although you also trust the other guys, you find it most comfortable to confide in Jake about any concerns, just like how you did back in Seoul.

As for sleeping arrangements, well, you don’t really have one with them, but on some nights Jake abandons his own bed just to head over to yours and sleep with you with his head on your chest as he listens to your steady heartbeat, simply because he wants to make sure your heart remains beating. You know that he fears losing you, and so it has become a habit for him to listen to your heartbeat whenever he lies on top of you, anchoring himself to you to reassure his paranoid mind that you’re real.

After Jake’s appointment is Sunghoon’s, but instead of you taking charge in planning leisure activities for the two of you, Sunghoon takes an insistent initiative, as according to him, he has been planning this surprise for weeks now, even before your settlement in the mansion.

Though Sunghoon is confident that you will love the surprise, he can’t lie about how nervous he feels, facing you as he carefully guides you to the awaited location of the surprise with his hands gripping yours, albeit the surprise is in the mansion itself, while your eyes are wrapped with a blindfold.

“Hoonie, this is so silly.” You remark with chuckles leaving your upturned lips, your eyes unable to see anything but the warmth of his hands providing you comfort, and his firm reassures you that he wouldn’t let you walk into a wall or bump into any object. “Why must I wear a blindfold when I could just close my eyes instead?”

“Because knowing you, you’d attempt to peek,” Sunghoon counters knowingly as a smirk touches his lips at your lips jutting into a pout. He intervenes before you can even make another comeback at him. “Don’t ruin the fun now, princess. Besides, we’re almost there. Just a few more steps.”

Sunghoon stays true to his words, because just a few more steps, you find yourself stopping in your tracks at the same time he does. He slowly lets go of your hands while you are shortly occupied by a fresh scent of something so familiar yet unfamiliar as it infiltrates your senses. “Okay, you can remove your blindfold now.” He instructs gently, his eyes remaining fixed on you.

You do as he told you, your fingers curling around the blindfold before pulling it down. Your eyes immediately adjust to the luminance encompassing the entire place, and after blinking for a few more times, your breath hitches in your throat at the pleasant surprise of his.

“Sunghoon…” You are at a loss for words, and maybe you are being melodramatic, but you can’t deny the whirlwind of emotions within you that threaten to overwhelm you. To others, the surprise is probably not a big deal, but to you? This has to be one of your memorable surprises.

For once, Sunghoon is unable to decipher the emotions swimming in your eyes and your impassive countenance—are you happy? disappointed? Or are you even surprised at all? He has no fucking clue, but the tension in his nerves becomes tenfold as he waits impatiently for your utterance. He desires your approval and satisfaction, and if he fails at pleasing you, it also means that he fails at being your lover.

“I know it’s not the surprise that you expected it to be,” Sunghoon finds himself needing to explain, albeit in a ramble, as the persisting silence from you unnerves him, but little does he know that you are simply occupied in admiring the sight before you. He tries his best to be subtle, but the nervousness in his voice is painfully evident in his ears. “I mean, you’ve already seen the library at the palace in Seoul back then, and the libraries we’ve been to in Milan are monumental, so this is probably nothing much.”

Sunghoon is silenced by your lips slamming into his parted ones with your arms thrown over his neck to pull him down just slightly, and he instantly wraps his arms around your waist, kissing you back with equal fervour, but there is a shared tenderness as your lips move against his slowly. Before you can get too carried away, you pull away from his lips, managing a soft, toothy smile at him while he swears he is falling in love with you over and over again. 

“You have no idea how much I love it. Thank you so much for the surprise,” You say with utmost sincerity and gratitude that has his heart swelling. Your eyes soften as you see a rare display of his vulnerability in his eye, prompting you to place another kiss on his lips. “I love you, Park Sunghoon.”

Sunghoon feels like he’s on cloud nine at the irrevocable love and devotion in your beautiful, sparkling eyes as you look at him. All the hours he spent planning and designing the entire place to make it look similar to the one in Seoul, as well as his efforts in working together with the contractors, are all paid off. He would do it again just to make you happy like this.

Sunghoon feels a tug at his wrist before looking down at your hand. “Explore the library with me.” You say in a demand that has him breaking into chuckles before letting you navigate the library on your own with your fingers intertwined.

Even though the mansion’s library is not as monumental as the one in Seoul, it still looks beautiful and royally elegant with its interior design and opulence. It makes you feel like you’re a real princess with your very own royal library. So how can you not love his surprise and him? 

No matter how tough and callous his demeanour is, you have always known that he is a softie at heart as you observe his every nuance before noticing the tip of his ears turning red, eliciting soft chuckles from you. The fact that Park Sunghoon, who you once knew, was never a man of romance and gifts, gifted you a place where you can explore different genres of fiction books that are filled to the brim on each shelf and read to your heart’s content is more romantic than he thinks.

Now, when it comes to Jay’s, you lack ideas of what to do and how you intend to spend the entire day with him, but fortunately for you, Jay loves to take charge and to be the one who plans your dates, not wanting his angel baby to think and worry incessantly. Apart from spoiling you with gifts, planning dates is part of his love language too.

Initially, you assume that he will be bringing you out to a more fancy date, but when he tells you to dress up in proper safety gear, you have a strong inkling that he will be bringing you out to a ride somewhere, and so you do as he tells you, donning black jeans and a leather jacket over your tight-fitting tee. 

The next thing you know, you are perched behind him on his motorbike with your arms wrapped around him for security as he speeds on the broad road where there are towering boulevard trees on each side of the road. 

You have no idea where Jay intends to bring you, but you trust him and his plans. Besides, you don’t mind riding all the way till night as you get to be this close with him, and so you enjoy this much-needed closeness with your arms hugging him tight enough that has him smiling behind the dark-tinted visor of his helmet. Turns out, the date not only includes bringing you out for a ride, but also exploring a street where you have never been as well as dining at a restaurant for lunch and trying out delectable pastries.

After the whole food adventure, Jay resumes bringing you for a ride with a fixed destination he intends to head to, and soon enough, you find yourselves entering a nearly empty yet broad parking lot with the beautiful orange hues of the impending sunset as a backdrop.

“So what are you planning on doing, exactly?” You ask with keen curiosity as you remain seated on his bike, your eyes following his movement and watching him as he presses the record button on his phone screen that is set up in a tripod stand, which he retrieved from your thigh bag.

Jay pushes up his visor to meet your eyes, and you see the way his eyes soften amidst the optimism. “I had this idea for a while now, and I’ve decided to capture moments of us on camera often from now on, whether they’re silly ones or not,” Just by the shape of his eyes alone, you can tell that he is smiling. “Because I want to show them to our child in the future; at least the glimpses of our love and dynamic.”

Your heart beats in a cadence that sounds symphonic in your ears while your eyes widen slightly at his statement. “Jay….” Your voice trembles with emotions with tears prickling in the corner of your eyes before you blink them away. You already know that he has the intention of marrying you one day, but to hear the two words of ‘Our child’ from his mouth hits you in the gut in a good way.

Jay’s chuckles through your helmet’s intercom send you butterflies all over as he extends his hand to you. “Come here, angel. We should say hello to our baby.” He beckons you over, and you proceed to dismount his motorbike before gravitating towards him and placing your hand on his, only to be startled when he swiftly pulls you in for a back hug and faces his recording phone. “Hi, baby. This is your parents.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh at how awkward the introduction was. “That’s not how you're supposed to do it, babe,” You tell him in between chuckles as you look at him with crescent-shaped eyes while he narrows his eyes in return. You redirect your focus on the camera and wave your hand at it. “Hi baby! This is Mummy!" You add a little yet dramatic flair to your introduction before gesturing your hand to Jay behind you. “And this is Daddy! We can’t wait to welcome you and hold you in our arms one day!”

Soon enough, the flow feels natural as you and Jay continue to give content to the recording camera—yapping off, teasing, and chasing after each other around the parking lot that is within the camera frame, and just being yourselves around one another without caring that you two may look like idiots in public, but at least no one is around. Plus, you get to see a new playful side of Jay.

After another round of chase, the two of you return nearer to the tripod stand while you pant lightly from all the running and laughing. Jay faces you, and as though you understand his telepathic message, you step a little closer before throwing your arms around his neck at the same time he hoists you up, prompting your legs to lock around his waist. 

You are too caught up in the moment to notice that the timestamp nearly reaches fifty minutes with a rare, vulnerable intimacy wrapping around you and him as he gazes fondly into your eyes. “I love you, Y/N Kang.” He says, his voice sounding deeper and slightly muffled, and you initiate the helmet kiss in return before breaking into fits of giggles. Just like that, the two of you end off the first content that will be saved in a folder for your child in the near future.

Finally, the long-awaited day to spend alone time with Heeseung beckons, and it starts off with you dragging him to the newly furnished arcade room that has been ready to use since two days ago. Since the other guys are also out of the household, you plan to spend the entire day playing with him to your heart’s content.

You are not a fan of arcade games, really, but you can’t deny the thrilling rush of competitiveness as you challenge Heeseug in a race where the two of you are now at the motorcycle racing simulator. But just like the previous games, you can see how he deliberately loses against you, as though he is letting you win when you know it yourself that Lee Heeseung hates losing.

You have no idea whether to be annoyed at him for letting you win so easily or not, especially whenever he innocently shrugs his shoulders or grins boyishly at your accusatory glares, but the undeniable flutters you feel in your chest are all you need to know that you are falling head over heels for him again.

“I know that you’ve been losing on purpose, but can you please not go easy this time?” You implore him with your fingers intertwined as you stand in front of the two basketball machines.

Heeseung simply smirks at you as he slowly releases your hand. “As you wish, my love. Just don’t sulk when I win.” He acquiesces, and the confidence exuding from him fuses the competitive tension in the air around you as he rolls his shoulders to the back before pressing the start button simultaneously with you.

As soon as the balls drop, you waste no time grabbing one and launching it into the hoop before doing it repeatedly despite missing the net. You can’t help but take a glance at Heeseung, in awe at how he is doing it with ease yet expertly and the fact that the balls he launched managed to swish through the net while maintaining a cool demeanour.

You can’t even be mad that by the time the countdown eventually stops, you have lost against him with a huge difference in the scores, because damn it, your man looks distractingly attractive in his competitive element. Even he has been aware of your eyes on him almost throughout the game.

“You didn’t even try to win, love,” Heeseung chuckles as he grabs you by the waist and pulls you to him, his dark eyes drinking in how you look prettily flustered under the intensity of his gaze. “Was I too handsome for you to find it hard to look away?”

Warmth weaves across your cheeks as you smile bashfully and nod your head in response. His eyes soften with adoration for you, but there is something else present in them, as though he has more to say to you in his mind. A fleeting hesitancy flickers in his gaze before he leans in to place a chaste kiss on your lips while cradling your face with his thumb stroking your cheek tenderly. “Where to next, my love?”

In response, you break into a roguish grin before grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the arcade room. Not too long later, Heeseung finds himself strolling around the outer part of the stupendous mansion with you, his fingers intertwined with yours while he listens to your rambles attentively and gives his remark whenever appropriate. Honestly, he doesn’t mind spending the rest of your day like this, as it is what he needed after not being able to have more time alone with you except sleeping with you in his room at night because over the course of weeks, he had other important matters to deal with.

Soon enough, the two of you are seated on the water fountain ledge, which is situated in the backyard, with you yapping off nonsensically until an abrupt silence from you draws Heeseung’s attention. The loss of your warmth as you slip your hand from his prompts him to look at you, his eyebrow raising as he becomes intrigued at the stark mischief written across your features with a devilish smile on your lips.

“Beloved, what are you doing?” Heeseung asks slowly, his sharp eyes watching you with scrutiny as you remove your sandals before rising from your seat and dipping your bare foot inside the water fountain. Eventually, the lower region of your white dress is completely drenched, with the entirety of you now in the water fountain. “Sweetheart, you’ll get cold─”

In a blink of an eye, Heeseung feels an instant yet abrupt chilling sensation hitting him in the face, but wet before quickly comprehending that you just splashed a handful of water on him, rendering him nearly drenched with his white shirt visibly soaked and his hair wet. 

That was definitely done on impulse, but you meant to do it anyway. You can’t help it with laughter leaving your lips, even if there is a chance he is pissed at your playful antics. You splash water at him again, but he abandons his seat and turns to you with a scowl on his handsome face, and yet the corner of his lips twitches into a menacing smirk.

“You’re so gonna get it, pretty girl,” Heeseung growls out at the same time you let out a squeal, unrelentingly marching towards you as he is now in the same fountain as you, unbothered by the water soaking the untouched part of his clothes. 

Your gleeful shrieks and laughter echoing in the air create a euphonious symphony of pure delight that is both infectious and dear to him as he wholeheartedly entertains you, chasing and splashing water at you the same way you do to him.

“Don’t let me catch you, love,” Heeseung says, stopping midway as the two of you decide to take a moment of respite from the battle in the fountain, standing further apart opposite each other. “Or I’ll devour you like a predator does to its prey.” He grins deviously as he takes steps forward, intensifying the trepidation in you that propels you to jump over the ledge.

The chase prolongs even when the skies are painted in dusk, and you are now running barefoot and trying to elude Heeseung, but the latter seems to be guiding you in an unknown yet intended direction that eventually leads you further away from the backyard. Nevertheless, you play along, because being with Heeseung always seems to summon your inner child to come out.

Something nudges you to turn to the right, and you do, but your pace decreases and your smile falters, feeling mildly confused yet intrigued upon seeing pavement of cemented flagstones that seem to lead you somewhere with the beautiful hedges of greens and flowers on each side. 

The chase with Heeseung has long been forgotten in your mind as you become immensely intrigued as you continue to advance forward, your feet stepping on the cold flagstones while Heeseung follows you from behind quietly yet stealthily with his hands tucked in his pockets, his features softening with unmistakable fondness.

Your face contorts into confusion as you begin to notice glowing radiance that flows faintly through an unbarred entrance with embellishment of elm leaves all over. Your steps hasten, feeling an undeniable sense of keenness at what may await you, and before you know it, the sight before your very eyes knocks the breath out of you. 

Your eyes go wide while your lips go parted, in complete awe at the beauty of this seemingly secret garden that you had no idea existed. The adornment of fairy lights hanging intricately on the towering tree branches above you encompasses this newfound wonderland, making it appear as though you have entered a magical realm. 

As you venture just a little deeper, you begin to notice some child-friendly amenities in some parts of the area: swings that are authentically crafted from slabs of wood for seats and affixed with thick ropes that are tethered to the stout branches, an impressive treehouse that looks sturdy with a scoop-designed slide, a cute playhouse painted in beige, and mini wooden benches.

The rustle from behind you pulls the trance that you are in, drawing your attention to Heeseung, who has been observing you with fond eyes, and you find yourself being rooted to the ground. “Heeseung, what….” You can’t seem to articulate your feelings that are jumbled into words while cacophonous questions clamour in the confines of your mind.

Heeseung briefly assesses your surroundings rather meaningfully as he ambles forward. “It isn’t much yet, but I do have plans on adding more amenities that are safe and fun for our kids in the near future.” He divulges the surprise he has been preparing for a while now.

You remain silent, feeling a whirlwind of emotions within you that threaten to sweep you away, and your heart continues to pound harder against your chest. He meets your eyes, and for the first time, his coolly collected demeanour cracks with the subtle yet sheepish smile unfurling on his lips as he rubs his nape. “I had some help from the guys and a contractor friend of Wooseok to come over to supervise the final condition of the amenities for safety reasons, but I crafted and assembled the swings on my own. Besides, it’s my idea in the first place.”

Your heart swells with so much affection as he takes pride in his hard work in the way he speaks confidently and takes the rightful credit. Just then, something clicks in your mind as you recall. “Is that why it was always so hard to see your face on most days since two weeks ago? Because you were busy planning and working on this beautiful wonderland?” You ask, your voice trembling with emotions.

You can’t lie that you are on the verge of bursting into a torrent of tears even though your waterline is void of tears as you think about how hard he has been working that even on the nights you slept with him, you noticed faint lines of exhaustion on his countenance. It deeply touches the depth of your heart, most especially when he thought of your future kids.

His eyes soften as he notices the way yours seem to glisten yet so beautifully under these fairy lights. “Yes, and it was all worth it for our future kids.” He says softly, his hand cradling your face with his thumb stroking your cheek tenderly. “I know it’s way too early to build a fun sanctuary for our kids, and I’m not even sure if you ever want kids, but that’s okay because this place is for you too. You can come here anytime and whenever.”

“I do want to have kids with you, Hee. More than anything.” Emotions manage to seep through the crack in your voice as you look into his eyes with unconcealing sentiment. You place your hand above his and lean into his touch, not realising a single teardrop manages to escape the corner of your eye as it rolls down your cheek that prompts him to wipe it away with his thumb. “Thank you for your hard work and this beautiful gift for our kids.”

Heeseung smiles in return before dipping his head and pressing his lips into yours, kissing you slowly with a careful gentleness, but you can feel his love pouring into the kiss as you reciprocate. You don’t even complain when the kiss lasts shortly as he pulls away first before resting his forehead against yours, basking in the serenity and tender intimacy that wraps around you.

“I love you, Y/N Kang,” He whispers affectionately before placing a kiss on your forehead. “You’re the best thing that has ever happened in my life.”

“I love you too, Hee,” You reciprocate, your eyes roaming around his chiselled yet beautiful features and burning them into your memory. You grab his hand and tug at it, a silent permission of wanting him to follow you around to explore. “Can we─”

“Of course, we can.” Heeseung says with a warm smile before you proceed to drag him with you, your pace and demeanour displaying exuberance. 

You begin your exploration in every part of the beautiful sanctuary with unbridled enthusiasm while Heeseung only watches and chuckles fondly at you, but he is attentive enough to prevent you from potentially falling or hurting yourself when you climb up the treehouse to explore and try out the slide or when he pushes you as you sit on the swing. You even carve out your initials on the tree trunk just below the treehouse with him, as well as the date, wanting it to be a permanent engraving for your future kids to see.

“Thank you for today.” You break the comfortable silence as you are now lying on the ground with him, facing the starry night with your head resting on his arm and attached to his side, seeking each other’s body warmth despite your still drenched clothes. You adjust your position, turning your body sideways to face him with your arm hugging him comfortably as if he’s your bolster. “I love everything that you have done, and…”

Your words become mushy as exhaustion begins to dawn on you, eliciting a chuckle from him, seeing the way your eyelids are struggling to stay open. “You can go to sleep, my love.” He murmurs, stroking your cheek gently as you drift off to your dreamland. It isn’t long until Heeseung is tempted as well, facing you with his eyes closed and his arms cocooning you, sleeping under the glinting stars.

But of course, just when you think that everything is all well and good, you receive texts from your best friends in Seoul to remind you of the monthly FaceTime tonight, and that is when realisation hits you that they haven’t been informed of your established relationship yet. You also doubt that Jennifer told them because if she did, the other two would have already bombarded your notifications.

Though you have no reason to fret over the outcome of revealing your relationship to Wonyoung and Karina since they were understanding and giving you advice a few months back when they were here, still, you can’t help with your overthinking mind of the worst possible outcome, worrying that they may not be as accepting as Jennifer.

“Hey, babes,” You greet your beautiful best friends right after they accept your call. You decide to settle in the living room, seated on the floor with your back rested against the large sectional sofa and your laptop on the coffee table while the guys are nowhere to be seen.

You try your best not to sound nervous, mustering a small smile at your best friends on your laptop screen. Jennifer must have noticed it first in the way she looks at you with knowing eyes while her pink lips twitch into a faint smirk.

Just when you intend to give her a glare, you are interrupted by Karina, her tone sounding astonished. “Girl, is that a whole new living room I see in your background? It looks massive.” 

“Since when did you move into a new apartment?” Wonyoung asks with genuine curiosity, her eyes narrowing at you with the slightest suspicion that has you swallowing your spit hard.

“The thing is, I’m living with the guys now, and it’s permanent,” You go straight to the point without beating around the bush as you want to get this over with. You curl your fingers into fists to prevent them from trembling while your resolve is teetering in the way your pupils shake, feeling unnerved by their unreadable expressions except Jennifer’s. “Which also means that I’m in a relationship with them. Yes, the four of them all at once. We’ve been together for three months or so.”

There is a pregnant pause with a rather painful silence emanating from them, as though they need some time to process this revelation, and you wince visibly, only to be taken by surprise at the positive change in their countenance.

“Details, Y/N! You know we love details, especially the juicy ones!” Karina demands in a whine, her sharp eyes displaying genuine interest that has your frayed nerves allayed. “There is absolutely no way you’re getting away without telling us how it happened.”

You groan out half-playfully as you rub your face, because as much as you want to, it feels repetitive to let them know what you told Jennifer back then and the fact that you have to rack through your memory. “It’s a long story.” 

“Summarise it for us, then.” Wonyoung is just as insistent as Karina, their eyes displaying impatience and expectation, and you know that you cannot refuse them, and so you begin to divulge to them, albeit keeping some details concealed.

“I mean, if you are happy with them, then we’re fine with it,” Wonyoung gives her conclusion as soon as you finish, and while you are more than glad that they’re accepting, you become easily distracted by four familiar yet handsome figures sauntering into the living room. “But tell your boyfriends that if they ever hurt you again, we’ll hunt them down and chop off their dicks.”

“Wony!” You exclaim, appalled and in disbelief by her warning that is uttered calmly while her face displays no remorse for the vulgarity that left her mouth, but more importantly, the guys heard her loud and clear, as evident in the look on their faces.

“Yeah, you heard that, guys?” Karina adds fuel to the fire as she quickly grasps the embarrassment on your face that your lovers are in the same room as you. “You’ll have us to deal with again if you dare to hurt our precious Y/N.”

“I can assure you that they wouldn’t do anything to hurt me,” You affirm assertively despite the warm temperature persisting in your cheeks as you ignore their amusing gaze on your face. “I’m sorry to cut our FaceTime short, but I’ll catch up with you girls in our next session. Love you.”

After bidding your goodbyes, you close your laptop, still refusing to meet their eyes. “Well, that certainly was something.” Jay speaks up, and you can’t resist looking at him just because of the attractive drawl in his voice. Your cheeks flush even more as he smirks at you, leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. 

“Sorry, they’re still protective over me,” You tell them sheepishly as you rise from the floor and gravitate towards them, unable to resist the magnetic pull before Sunghoon grasps the first opportunity to hold you in his possession. You look up at him with your arms around his body, your lips forming into a small pout. “But I swear they won’t chop off your dicks. I’ll make sure of that.”

“Of course, you’ll make sure of that, or else we’ll be experiencing another brat moment of you being deprived of our dicks.” Jake remarks with a chuckle, his lips adorning a devilish grin that has you groaning out in embarrassment before you bury your face into Sunghoon’s chest while the rest join in to tease you the same.

“Don’t worry, princess. We’re not in the slightest feeling threatened by them.” Sunghoon chuckles breathily, his hands cradling your face with the sulky pout that remains adorned on your lips to which he can’t resist giving you a smooch. “Besides, why would we feel threatened when we made a promise to always protect and cherish you?”

“I know, Hoonie,” You say softly, your eyes gazing tenderly at him and the others while your heart swells with irrevocable affection and trust. You sigh softly before beaming with a smile, deciding to dismiss the air of melancholy around you. “Anyway, shall we start preparing snacks for our game and movie night?”

With that, Sunghoon whisks you off to the kitchen with Jay trailing behind you while Heeseung and Jake proceed to convert the modular sofa into a reversible sleeper chaise bed that is rather massive to fit six people in for movie night later, and thus your first weekly Friday fun night begins ─ the fun part consists of you preparing snacks and baking last-minute sweet goods with Jay while Sunghoon every so often clings to you and distracts you with kisses, earning him a glare from his best friend.

And so, the remainder of your night is nothing short of bliss, having to spend more quality time with four of your boyfriends at once. You are not even fazed by the fact that you lost four times in a row against time, your laughter being accompanied by their playful banter and finding great joy in being in the presence of the ones who occupied your heart, and before you know it, time flies fast as movie night commences.

The movie that is still playing on the massive television has lost its essence in keeping you captivated as your eyes begin to wander elsewhere. Presently, the five of you are nestled in the sofa with a fleecy duvet shielding your bodies from the cold temperature and pillows supporting the back of your heads, which isn’t necessary for you, considering you are being cocooned in both Jake and Jay’s arms as you are right in the middle, not that you have any complaints.

“This is the happiest I’ve been in months,” You break the comfortable silence, feeling awfully sentimental as tears are wetting in your waterline while a soft smile touches your lips. You look at them, noticing their eyes attentively on you with equal fondness. “I’m glad that you all didn’t give up on me, even when you thought that finding me would be impossible.”

“Well, we have Sunghoon to thank for that,” Jake murmurs, his hand reaching up to cradle your face while Jay soothes you with an affectionate rub on your tummy. 

“Why are you tearing up, my love?” Heeseung asks gently, drawing your attention to him. Just the tenderness in his eyes is enough to make you burst into a rivulet of tears, feeling overwhelmed by their unconditional love, but you hold back the dams.

“I’m just happy,” You manage to utter, your voice trembling with emotions while a tear escapes the corner of your eye. “Thank you for loving me.”

“No, baby, thank you for accepting us back,” Jay insists softly as he grabs your hand and places a kiss on your palm, a gesture of affection that always has your heart flutter.

“You do know that you’re not stuck with us forever, even if you decide to change your mind?” Jake chuckles breathily, pressing a kiss on your temple, but you are no fool to dismiss the darkness that belies his light-hearted tone.

“I would love nothing more,” You say with a smile, baring your heart and soul, which are theirs to cherish forever. “I love you guys.”

“We love you too, princess,” Sunghoon reciprocates, and with a few more words exchanged mindlessly, the animation on the bright screen is forgotten and neglected, and soon enough, the five of you have inevitably drifted off to the same dreamland.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

In the serene confines of your room, the gradual evening sunray filters through your window, painting delicate tapestry across the ceiling. Humming a familiar tune, you sift through your wardrobe, your eyes and hands meticulously searching for the dress you had prepared and ironed three days in advance.

A delicate smile touches your lips as soon as you find the dress before grabbing it with your fingers, careful enough not to crease the ironed fabric. After slipping on the dress, you exit your wardrobe, and the way you move with grace has got a certain someone hypnotised as he stands by the doorway before deciding to watch you in a silent admiration, leaning sideways against the frame with his hands tucked in his pockets.

But you are too preoccupied to notice his presence as you are seated in front of the vanity mirror to apply the appropriate make-up that is not too glamorous but enough to enhance your features. Completing the touch with a cherry red lip tint and your favourite perfume, you move over to the full-length mirror to marvel at the final transformation with a small satisfied smile on your lips.

The black dress holds a blend of elegance and allure as it accentuates your contours perfectly while the low-cut flaunts your cleavage with the familiar platinum ring necklace resting delicately below your clavicle. You decide to let loose your natural locks as they cascade down your shoulders. Just when you think you are ready, you forgot about a pair of earrings that Jay gifted you last night.

The whole process of beautifying yourself probably took an hour, but it is a necessity since tonight is a little special. Unfortunately, it is not a date night, but rather, Jay’s company is hosting a private event tonight, and the rest of your boyfriends, including you, are part of the exclusive guests ─ of course, having been personally invited by Jay himself.

Initially, you refused to go even after being relentlessly coaxed by your boyfriends, but you couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in Jay’s eyes any longer, and so you begrudgingly agreed. Your intention is to be a good girlfriend and moral support to your boyfriend. Plus there will be free food and drinks.

As you examine yourself for another time, your eyes trail to the figure decked out in a black blouse with the sleeves rolled up to his veiny arms that also display his tattoos, who has been standing and watching you by the doorway with dark, attentive eyes.

“Jay, you scared me.” You chuckle nervously as your heart continues to beat erratically, watching him in the mirror as he ambles towards you with his dark eyes looking as though they are about to devour you whole. “How long have you been watching me?”

“For a while now,” Jay admits nonchalantly, his dark eyes scanning you from head to toe appreciatively with a tinge of fondness, but there is an unmistakable lust swirling in them, affecting you right in the core. “You got me fully mesmerised, baby.” 

Your breath hitches in your throat as soon as Jay stops directly behind you, leaving no space in between your bodies as his warmth melds with yours. You watch him silently in the mirror, his hands abandoning your hips to wrap around your waist, which feels like a sensual hug in the way his body is feeling you up and his dark eyes flicker to meet yours in the mirror.

“You’re in the mood,” You point out rather breathlessly, feeling dizzy at the intoxicating fuse of his strong cologne and his body heat. With his lips pressing down on your shoulder, you can’t help but melt against him as you tilt your neck to allow more easy access for him to assault you with sensual kisses. 

“Babygirl, I’m always in the mood whenever I’m around you. How can I not be when you look truly exquisite?” He says lowly, his husky voice igniting the heat pooling in your core dangerously and his warm breath hitting your skin. He presses one last kiss on the sensitive spot on your neck, eliciting a mewl from you before he returns his dark gaze to the mirror with a suggestive smirk playing on his lips. “You have no idea how badly I need to ruin you now.”

“Jay, we can’t─” You gasp softly at the sensation of his prominent bulge pressing into your bums that intensifies the heat pooling in your core. Your pulse drums in your ears while your eyes follow his tattooed hand sliding down your tummy, heading straight for your throbbing heat. “You can have me after the event or tomorrow. Just not now, please?” “I don’t think I can wait that much longer, angel baby.” Jay smirks, seeing the emotions in your hooded eyes contradict your words and your staggering breaths as his hand gets closer to the intended journey, but too caught up in the nearly blissful erotica that wraps around you like an intoxicating haze, you fail to realise another figure entering your room.

“So this is what the two of you have been doing,” Sunghoon accuses with a disbelieving scoff, and yet amusement is evident in his tone, prompting you to switch your position to view both of your dashing lovers better. “Might want to reconsider fucking around. Our chauffeur is arriving anytime soon now, so we better get going─”

The moment Sunghoon lays his eyes on you, he stops dead in his tracks while he feels his throat going dry at the gorgeous sight of you. He quickly recovers himself, clearing his throat. “Damn, princess, you look─” His heart races at a ridiculous speed upon seeing the shyness written all over your beautiful face, and he can’t seem to find a fitting word to describe your divine beauty, utterly speechless.

Despite your shyness, you flutter your curled eyelashes at him in a sly manner. Sunghoon recognises before meeting his eyes that seem to darken with a familiar desire. The corners of your lips curve into a small yet mischievous smile as you fiddle at the fabric of Jay’s collar mindlessly. “I believe that the word you are looking for is beautiful?” You say so slyly, and fuck, Sunghoon feels undeniably turned on by you.

Sunghoon takes two steps forward before extending his hand out to you. “Come here, princess.” He orders, and there is a discernible crack in his voice mid-sentence before he covers up with a cough, but not quick enough as he sees the way you break into a fit of chuckles while Jay watches the entire thing with a smirk.

Sunghoon lets out a frustrating sound between a growl and a gruff, displaying his impatience and annoyance in the way Jay is still teasing him with a smirk on his lips, whereas you seem to join the latter as you take your sweet time in moving towards him and accepting his extended hand.

Sunghoon catches you off guard when he takes a big step forward and wastes no time in grabbing your hand firmly before pulling you into him eagerly while you let out a startled squeal. He dives straight into your neck, unable to stave off the temptation, and places a lingering kiss on your skin. His desire becomes tenfold as your sweet yet exquisite perfume hits his nostril.

You gasp softly as he nips at your skin, and you arch your neck submissively to him on instinct, fluttering your eyes closed at the pleasurable sensation of him kissing and licking your neck. Your clit throbs once again when he presses his body against yours with his arms caging you, making you feel his prominent bulge.

“Maybe we should ditch the private event. I’d rather spend all night buried into you,” Sunghoon nearly growls out his words, his voice gravelly deep, and it feels like he has no intention of letting you go anytime soon.

But thankfully, you still have some rationality left in you. “Sunghoon!” You gasp at his words before attempting to push him away but fail miserably when you melt against his warmth. You sigh softly, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You know we can’t. It’s important for us to be there for Jay.”

Jay shoots his best friend a smug look while the latter rolls his eyes in return. Sunghoon reluctantly pulls away from you, but not before giving you a peck on the lips. He smirks down at you. “If you say so, princess. But the offer still stands even after the event, yeah?”

Before you can retort, another pair of footsteps can be heard outside of your opened door, prompting the three of you to look at the incomer. “Hey, guys. We really need to get going. Our chauffeur has just arrived, and Heeseung is waiting downstairs─” 

Jake pauses abruptly at the same time he barges into your room, and unlike Sunghoon, he continues to walk slowly towards you with his widened eyes fixated on you despite the fact that he is speechless, utterly in awe of your stunning beauty. “Holy fuck, sweetheart?” He says so breathlessly.

“Jaeyun,” You utter his name softly, your lips curving into a smile while your eyes soften at the way his features soften with a familiar sentiment as he examines you with clear appreciation. You feel Sunghoon’s arms loosen around you, as though he is permitting you to go to Jake, and so you naturally gravitate to him.

“My beautiful girl, you never cease to amaze me.” Jake breathes out in awe as soon as you stand in front of him, but he seems to be examining you for another time, as if the woman in his view is indeed a goddess. His Goddess, damn right. The warmth of his palms feels comforting as he cups your cheeks. A chuckle escapes you when his face twists into a playful scowl, but the possessiveness glinting in his eyes is not lost on you. “I’d hate for the others to look at you when you’re dolled up gorgeously like this.”

Jake captures your lips in a kiss, a short-lived one, and yet you can feel his burning desire even after he pulls away, but his lips remain grazing against yours, sending shivers down your spine. “Maybe I should hunt down and kill whoever dared to glance in your way after the private event.” He says softly, and you have no idea whether or not his words were meant to be playful.

“You look handsome, Jaeyun.” You compliment him earnestly as you marvel at his striking handsomeness, decked out in a suit similar to Jay and Sunghoon’s while his hair is gelled to the back with only a few strands falling over his chiselled forehead. The butterflies in your tummy are practically fluttering intensely as you look at your three lovers to appreciate their handsomeness for another time. “You all do.”

Before Jake can go in for another kiss, Jay’s stern voice cuts through the air. “Alright, let’s get going before we have another love fest here.”

“Fuck fest, you mean?” Sunghoon chuckles as the four of you proceed to depart from your room while you walk hand in hand with Jake, his warmth encasing you.

“You’re not entirely wrong, mate,” Jake shoots Sunghoon a mischievous grin, whereas Jay shakes his head, but a small smirk plays at the corner of his lips. Jake looks at you, and this time, you can feel his heated gaze that is burning with insatiable hunger for you as he licks his lips. “Our wife looks delicious enough to be devoured right here and now.”

“I’m not your wife yet, Jaeyun.” You remind him for the umpteenth time with a short huff, and yet it affects you just the same as you feel your cheeks warming rapidly the same way your heart races.

Initially, when they started to refer to you as their wife, every wire in your system went short-circuited, and you had no idea how to react. Sure, the five of you have been heavily involved in a serious discussion about tying the knots with you legally and officially in the near future, and the guys were determined to make it happen, but to you it was too soon for them to be referring to you as their wife and throw the term around so carelessly.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re going to be our wife.” Jay adds nonchalantly, draping his arm around your shoulder while you remain hand-locked with Jake. Despite shooting the three men the same glare, you can’t ignore the tension that has been building up ever since they came into your room.

You release a shaky breath as you decide to focus on the view in front of you, but it turns out to be a mistake, because one moment you’re descending the stairs, and then the next, you lock eyes with the only lover who hasn’t seen you until now.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat as you shamelessly examine him from head to toe. The all-black ensemble fits his toned physique perfectly, and his black hair is neatly parted so his forehead can be seen. Your heart swells with love as you see the familiar ring necklace that rests below his clavicle. When your eyes return to meet him, you swear you can feel your womanhood clenching with arousal as you notice the way his eyes darken with palpable desire despite the nonchalance in his demeanour.

His dark eyes continue to greedily drinking you in even as you finally stand in front of him. A soft smirk ghosts on his lips momentarily before he gives you a small smile and extends his hand out to you in a gentlemanly manner. “Shall we, my beloved?” Heeseung asks gently, even waiting patiently as you slowly unclasp your hand from Jake’s to take Heeseung’s, only for him to press a kiss on your knuckles while he maintains eye contact with you. “You look breathtaking, pretty girl.”

“Thank you,” You mumble, feeling utterly diffident as you are now being surrounded by four deadly yet dashing men, even though you have always been surrounded by them 24/7. You hope that your palm is not sweating just yet from all the nervousness as you busily cast Heeseung a small smile. “You look handsome, Hee.”

Heeseung reciprocates with a dashing grin before he begins to assist you on the way to the chauffeur, with the three musketeers following closely behind you rather protectively, as though posing as your bodyguard. Your eyes sparkle with fascination upon seeing the view of the sleek black stretch limousine parked directly outside of the entrance door, waiting for you.

As though the routine is rehearsed, Sunghoon takes the initiative to open the door for you before Heeseung assists you inside, to which you bend down your height slightly as you proceed to walk in. Your lips part open, and your eyes widen at the luxury of the entirety of the interior of the limousine, nearly bumping your head if it weren't for Heeseung’s hand cradling the back of your head before you continue to move further in until you finally settle on the leather seat.

For some reason, you resort to silence as you watch your lovers settling in, hyper aware of the previous tension that has resumed its course in the enclosed space. Your heart hammers harder as soon as Sunghoon sits next to your right while Heeseung is on your left. Not too long after, the limousine begins to accelerate, and the guys proceed to converse on a topic you don’t understand.

But the tension remains, thickening every second that has you finding yourself suffocated. It doesn’t even help that the intoxicating mixture of their strong cologne has your head spinning while you attempt to repress your burning desire in the way you squeeze your thighs together. You bite down on your lip harder, feeling your cunt throbbing with incessant need. Thankfully, you brought your emergency make-up kit so you can reapply your lipstick on your lips again.

However, throughout the ride, you fail to notice that Heeseung has been observing you from time to time, noticing the familiar pattern in your body language, bringing a discreet smirk to his lips. 

“Pretty girl, what’s wrong?” Your heart skips a beat when Heeseung places his hand on your exposed thigh, and despite the gentleness in his tone, you can discern a familiar deception that has you anticipating both with excitement and fear.

It isn’t exactly that you fear them, but with the thick tension hanging in the air and waiting to snap, the enclosed space of the limousine, the intoxication of their cologne, as well as the predatory gazes at your figure, you fear that the immaculate state of the limousine might turn into a sullied mess.

“Nothing,” You answer him, your voice sounding quiet, and yet it sounds loud to their ears, prompting the four men to exchange looks.

“Don’t lie to me, love,” Heeseung squeezes the flesh of your thigh, a warning you recognise, and yet you feel an unwise temptation to display your defiance to him, just a little, because the desire that is throbbing in every part of you desperately implores you to be released. “Tell me, what do you want?” His soft voice carries an undertone of dark sensuality, and you know that his question is an invitation.

“Speak up, princess,” Sunghoon joins in, adding fuel to the fire as he presses his body against yours, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. He grabs you by the chin firmly enough to force you to look at Heeseung in the eyes, and in doing so, allows you to catch the familiar hunger on Jay and Jake’s features as they also wear the same smirk on their lips. “Tell Heeseung exactly what you want. You know what you want, princess.”

It’s so mean, the way they all seem to be tag-teaming you, and how mean Sunghoon sounds, how Heeseung’s dark eyes are penetrating into you as though he is able to read your twisted mind, but if anything, everything seems to turn you on further, throwing you into the abysmal to the point of no return. Subconsciously, you bite down on your lower lip while your eyes become glossy with terrible need, drawing Heeseung’s attention to your bitten lip.

“I need you so bad.” You shamelessly admit with shaky breaths, feeling utterly humiliated by the knowing smirks they collectively wear on their lips, but you don’t give a fuck anymore. You allow your eyes to roam around his body and bite down your lips once more on purpose, knowing that Heeseung hates it when he isn’t the one doing it. “It doesn’t even help that you look hot in a suit.” You purr with an irresistible seduction that they can never resist.

“You heard her. Give what the wife wants, Heeseung,” Jay says loudly, leaning against the leather seat comfortably with his legs spread open while his clasped hands support the back of his head, as if the view in front of him is a show. “Driver, close the partition.”

On cue, the driver heeds Jay’s command, and in doing so, aids the now heated atmosphere with the partition finally closed. The next thing you know, you are being manhandled and immediately find yourself perched on top of Heeseung, causing your dress to hike up way past your thighs.

-from this point onwards would be the smut part but didn’t get to continue </3

unwritten scene 1 (the smut part in the limousine)

unwritten scene 2:

unwritten scene 3(the ending):

[deathmetalunicorn1]

I'd like a part 2 for Eri!Reader in Hazbin Hotel? I'd like to see Lucifer get into an argument with Alastor over who gets Eri!Reader for the weekend.

Razzle and Dazzle are definitely the number one choice for Reader's babysitters. Azmodeus and Fizz are the official godparents while Stolas is the wine aunt.

Meanwhile, I wonder if Heaven is panicking that they are missing an angel.

Wait, was Reader under Emily and Sera's care? How would they react if they knew that the same Hotel that Adam tried to destroy was in fact protecting Eri!Reader?

How would Adam react? Is Eri!Reader afraid of Adam?

-Heaven was in a panic, tearing up every nook and cranny, calling out your name after you wound up missing while being watched by Adam.

-Sera and Emily were your guardians, but they had asked Adam to watch you so they could attend a meeting, and he had no issues doing it, but he quickly lost interest, telling you to just stay put on a couch and went off to do his own thing.

-In that time when he wasn’t watching you, you somehow ended up in Hell where Charlie found you and took you in after you had been attacked, your wings being taken.

-Sera was beside herself with fury, dragging Adam into her office, kicking all others out, and has been going strong for what felt like days, leaving Emily to head the search for you.

-Sera’s rage only grew more when they found that you were in Hell, safe with the princess of hell, Lucifer’s daughter Charlie, but she was furious that Adam not only knew where you were, but he had tried to destroy the hotel, knowing full well that you were there!!

-Sera was angry enough to consider banishing Adam to hell, as she believed he would fit right in!

-Down in Hell, you were watching a different fight, watching Lucier and Alastor fighting over you, Lucifer wanted to spend time with both you and Charlie, as he knew that you were an angel, but not a fallen angel as your wings were stolen.

-Alastor was trying to deny Lucifer of this, wanting to keep you at the hotel, where you were safe, not wanting to risk the chance of you getting taken away, which Lucifer didn’t take kindly to, seeing that Alastor was looking down on him.

-You were sitting with Razzle and Dazzle, who in the opinion of many, were the best choices to watch you, besides Charlie. There were a few others, like Fizz and Asmodeus, who had been dubbed your fairy godparents. They were just godparents, but you only knew of fairy godparents from the stories Emily would read, and they wore those titles proudly.

-Stolas was also higher up on the list of approved babysitters, given his talents with children from raising his daughter, but he always drank the bitter juice you didn’t like as he told you all sorts of stories.

-Lucifer didn’t want to lose you back to Heaven, when he returned home after Charlie but both him and Alastor in time out, he came back to a message from Sera, regarding you.

-Lucifer was calm when he spoke with Sera, who returned it, despite her inner rage, telling her that you were safe, but you had been attacked when you first arrived, your wings being taken, before Charlie found you.

-The line went quiet before he heard what sounded like multiple explosions and Sera going completely feral on what he could only assume was Adam before Emily came on the line, “Sera is going to be busy for a while. Thank you for finding Y/N- we’re glad that’s she is safe. It might be a good idea to keep her with you for the time being.”

-Lucifer just laughed, hearing how Adam was being punished, hanging up with Emily. If only they knew that he and all those down in hell who cared about you weren’t going to let you go back. They lost their chance when they trusted Adam of all people.

[ratlesshonret]

(This is a very long and disorganized rant. It may come off as very aggressive, but know that it is simply the way I speak when I want to ramble and not indicative of any true anger/malice)

Follow-up to my last post, it is kind of a pet peeve of mine when people almost brag about winning Limbus encounters with winrate.

Like... if you don't like the gameplay, just say that. If you want to just get to the story, that's fine. But sometimes I'll see a creator act like they're so amazing at Limbus, like "I'm so good I can win even with winrate"

But. That's not. Being good at the game? That's just letting gacha luck and the autowin button play the game for you while you take all the credit.

Idk, I kind of hate it, as someone who genuinely likes and appreciates the intricacies of Limbus gameplay. Esp when they whine and fucking complain about how a fight is "too hard" because they have to read two lines of text and then manually select a few skills instead of letting the win button carry them.

Even worse is when these people go play Ruina and complain that it's way too complicated because there isn't a single button that lets them win any fight. Hot take incoming everyone, but Ruina is really not that hard, literally 90% of the game is learning to read. And there's a difference between "ooh lmao i missed that one line when going over the passives, i can't read lol" and "i genuinely refuse to read the passives even when i am losing over and over again"

And that's the thing, some of these people literally REFUSE to read card/skill effects and passives. When they'd probably save more time reading them both by losing the fights less and becoming better at the game.

I feel like in the start, "Project Moon fans can't read" was just to describe a phenomenon of missing/misreading a line or two in the text and making a silly mistake because of it, but now it has gone to become a genuine phenomenon and almost an excuse for itself. Creators and redditors and many others literally refusing to read the text and then excusing it with "well limbus fans can't read it's fine"

And now it is seeping into the story discussion. People wanting to have the story neatly summarized for them by someone else, because they aren't willing to have their own thoughts and interpretations. I mean, what if I'm wrong guys?!?!?! What if I had an incorrect interpretation of the story that harmed nobody and only served to slightly confuse me for a short period?!?!?!

In some ways, the phenomenon of creators like ESGOO neatly summarizing IDs and their gameplay so that winrating Limbus streamers can know what to shard for to put as little effort into playing and enjoying the game as possible has seeped into every corner of the fandom. It's like: "Guys I've GOTTA know what my smart Limbus gameplay guy says about the new ID/EGO. I've GOTTA have Reddit summarize the story for me. I can't have my own thoughts about the gameplay or the mechanics or the story or anything, I need to have someone else package it for me"

I know that not everyone is a diehard fan. Some people are just casuals. It's okay to not enjoy the gameplay and want to get it over with, and to some degree it is helpful to have other people do stuff like explain what IDs/EGOs are good, and what to look out for in both your own and the enemy's skills so you can spend as little time as possible being bogged down with reading pages of text.

But when I see people complaining like "they should just put the source code in the ID skill text" or "omg this new ID is a fucking novel who wants this" it just makes me a little sad. Are we so averse to reading, what, like two paragraphs total of text, that we need to complain every time a new ID comes out that has more than two effects per skill?

And when I see people blatantly misunderstand the story, possibly now because they just skimmed the dialogue and had someone else explain what happened and then formed their opinions based on how they felt when the pretty colors were on screen, it makes me wonder what we're doing.

It almost feels like something Project Moon would tackle in their own works. A society so unwilling to think their own thoughts, so unwilling to take even the barest effort to understand the world around them, that they rely on a few select people they've just decided are smart to summarize and explain everything confusing that happens so that they can go back to mindlessly mashing buttons.

And this behavior being reinforced, through memes like "Project Moon fans don't read" and "me when I winrate the final boss" and "just spam fluid sac lmao," as well as through batshit insane plot theories and interpretations that seem like people are just saying whatever.

I don't really have a point other than that... maybe we need to encourage more actually reading? Instead of just having a semi-formed thought and going to the nearest 'expert' to ask "hey what do you think about X story thing" we actually encourage people to have their own thoughts and feelings and opinions instead of just listening to whatever the generic fandom hivemind says about the plot and mechanics.

[musical-chick-13]

Oh not me avoiding a wildly popular piece of media that I’d probably actually like out of sheer spite.

[deathbxnny]

Hi I love your writing!! can I request headcanons of arcane characters if they’re s/o was blind??💕

Arcane characters with a s/o that's blind! | Ekko, Vi, Jinx, Viktor x Gn! Reader

I absolutely love this idea, so thank you very much for your request, and I hope you'll enjoy this!<3

Content: Reader is blind/visually impaired, romantic relationships, fluff, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》EKKO

He doesn't treat you any differently than anyone else, just based on your disability, but still does his best to make the hideout as accessible as possible for you. Ekko never wants you to feel like a burden either.

He definitely sometimes forgets that you're blind and asks your opinion on things he was looking at aa if you could see them too. He gets very embarrassed after realising, but you at least find it endearing.

Anyone who comments on your disability negatively will be dealt with. The last thing he wants is for you to feel bad about it when you should feel supported instead.

Allows you to touch his face or hair whenever you want, since that's the best way for you to visualize him. He'll shyly deny any compliments you give him but is deep down very flattered that you find him handsome even with your inability to see.

Since you can't fly a hover board on your own for obvious reasons, he often takes you on rides himself. He'll keep a tight hand around your waist whilst he enjoys the sight of you giggling and laughing in the evening sun with him.

》VI

God forbid anyone ever mistreats you or speaks badly about your disability because she won't hesitate to end them. You definitely have to hold her back at least once a day from putting someone 6 feet under.

With that said, she's extremely overprotective, perhaps near overbearing at times. She doesn't want you to accidentally get hurt or lost, especially when you're walking around Zaun.

She guides your fingers across her many tattoos, hoping you'll be able to visualize what they look like that way when you're curious about them. Vi is thankful that you can't see her red face.

She definitely also sometimes forgets your blind, which always ends up in a laughing fit for you. Hearing her embarrassed apologies always makes you feel so at ease about your disability.

》JINX

She was fascinated by you from day one. Something about you perceiving the terrible world she grew up in so differently drew her to you deeply. You couldn't see the flaws across her face and body or the shimmer that glowed in her eyes and ruined her from the inside. No, you saw her soul, and that's what made her love you.

Her hideout is practically baby proofed for you with special handrails and fences that protect you from accidentally falling off. It took her days to make, but seeing your excited face at the accessibility made it all worth it.

Jinx and Isha always hold your hand when walking around outside, as Zaun, just so you don't get lost or hurt.

Anyone who tries hurting or insulting you is as good as dead, so you never have to worry about a thing with her around.

》VIKTOR

He understands you better than anyone else due to his own disability. He never wants you to feel like he does and therefore makes sure you don't feel like a burden or discouraged by it.

Viktor makes many little inventions for you that help you around the house or in public. Whether it's for navigating the city safely or cooking up a meal completely on your own without incident, everything he does is for you to strengthen your sense of independence, since he knows you can't always rely on him.

He takes small walks around campus with you and describes your surroundings in great detail whilst holding onto your hand tightly.

Viktor also definitely likes to joke that you're matching whenever you both are out with a cane in hand. Hearing you giggle about it every time makes his day.

[hitomisuzuya]

yandere!hybrid scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. porn with a little plot. breeding kink. cunnilingus. masturbation. cream pie. degradation. scara in heat. aggressive/possessive behavior.

i just wanted to write about scara as a hybrid for a bit. don't mind this high nonsense. it turned out way long, oml, i'm sorry😭

you could never have cats growing up. so when the opportunity to take one in presented itself, you naturally took it. scaramouche was very weak, and very injured when you found him laying underneath a cardboard box in an alley.

you couldn't bear to leave him out in the cold, and freezing rain. scaramouche huddled further into the cardboard box, hissing when you crouched down to reach for him. he fought you the whole time, hissing, scratching and biting until you finally managed to wrestle him into your arms, wrapping your jacket around him and cradling him to your chest so he could get warm.

the whole time you were cooing to him soothingly. "shh, kitty, it's okay. we will get you inside, and fed. i promise. and get you feeling better." scaramouche was incredibly startled finding out your voice was soothing.

a few instances on the way home, he thought he almost fell asleep listening to the sound of your heartbeat. it made him focus a little less on the pain in his very injured leg, and pain from being weak and starving. fuck it, it would be an opportunity to rest indoors out of the cold, and get something to eat before he bailed on you the next day.

and he was going to find and fuck up that alley cat he got into a fight with. maybe he would come back to your house, yowling for food before he fled entirely.

scaramouche sure didn't know what to think about you. what the fuck was up with you? any normal person would've just dropped and abandoned him after he hissed and clawed at them, but not you. you took it all with a calm, patient smile. he decided he would fiercely test that patience.

humans weren't as good as they liked to think, in his humble opinion.

scaramouche watched you with narrow eyes as you flitted about the kitchen, looking in cabinets to see what you had for him to eat. "i'm afraid you'll have to forgive me kitty, i still have to go the grocery store this week. if you don't like anything i have, i'll go back out to the store, and see if i can't find you something."

so test you he did. he turned his nose up at tuna, some cubed chicken breasts with gravy on them (even it smelled super good, he thought), some roast beef.

he thought, this is it! he was going to turn out to be right. you would undoubtedly get frustrated and put him back out on the street. or so he thought.

nope, you just made him a soft little nest on the couch with some blankets and pillows. turned on the tv for him, and told him you would be back with some other stuff. that you would find what he wanted to eat, it wasn't a problem.

you even looked happy to be taking care of him. and why the hell were you starting to smell really good every time you walked by him. he waited, curled up warm in your little hand made nest, glancing away from the tv at the door every now and then.

back you came, your scent more magnified than before to him. you brought fish, varieties of tuna, some cat treats and cat nip. you'd even stopped by the deli and picked up different things. for him. you didn't bring home any dinner for yourself.

scaramouche supposed he would feel like an asshole if he refused all of it. you'd gone back out in the freezing rain and wind to get food for him, getting nothing for yourself. he decided he was only going to be half the trouble, accepting some chicken and gravy that tasted better than he anticipated.

after that, you treated his injured leg and read to him until he fell asleep. he opened his eyes the next morning to discover you hadn't slept until he did.

scaramouche was incredibly weak from his injury. so much so that he couldn't transform into his more human form to make recovery easier. and if he had it his way, you would never know about it. a few days and he would be gone.

or so he told himself. before he knew it, one day turned into two. two days turned into a week. he got stronger everyday. oh how you smiled and clapped when he stood up without limping. your smile was beautiful, he admitted.

you'd put up with him all this time. the healing scratches and bite marks on your arms and hands proved that. what was in it for you? nothing. everything you did was for him. he couldn't find one hint of an ulterior motive. you even seemed to purely enjoy his company.

scaramouche was really starting to hate whenever you left the house, especially when you couldn't take him with you. why did you need to leave? he knew you needed to go out for food and things, but it would be so much better if you took him with you. you seemed way too nice. it probably made you really naive.

you were naive enough not to realize he was actually a hybrid with a very human form, and a name. A name you were talking about him needing eventually. a very human form with very human needs. you were smelling better and better every day. he almost couldn't stand it sometimes. it was intoxicating.

he was starting to jump on your bed with you at night to sleep, moving a little closer to you every night. one morning, you found him curled up asleep on your chest, purring softly. he avoided you for hours after that happened, darting off hissing in embarrassment.

that wasn't the worst thing for him. a few mornings later, he'd unknowingly shifted in the middle of the night into his human form, waking up very naked with a very hard cock. his arms wrapped around you, tucking you possessively against him.

to your credit (and his amazement), you didn't scream or send him away. he supposed he should've expected that. you didn't even throw him out when he scratched up your curtains, tore a hole in one of the couch pillows, and knocked what he thought looked the most valuable vase off the table, completely shattering it.

"scaramouche," he grumbled, his ears flicking as he looked away in embarrassment. "scaramouche is what you can call me," he could barely look at you that day. he spent most of his time in his cat form, hiding under the bed, or lingering from a distance, watching you suspicious eyes. undoubtedly your true nature would come out. a strange boy had woken up next to you, naked and hard from good you smelled. how warm you felt.

you, with your soft hair that looks oh so pullable. you, with your pretty lips and fragile body he was pretty sure he could break in half. now that he thought about it, you seeing his human form was really the best thing. now he could leave the house with you, and protect you from all the horrible things that would jump out from around every corner and snatch you away.

snatch you away from him. he couldn't have that, no matter what. especially not when you accepted him so completely.

as much as scaramouche tried to swallow these feelings, he was abruptly forced to accept them one day. he walked into your room while you were changing. he saw every bare dip and curve of your breakable body, caught sight of your breasts reflected in the mirror. something snapped in him after that.

of course, he hid away from you after that. only coming out to kick up an angry fuss about you running an errand. he snapped at you when you asked if he wanted to come with you, refusing out of pride and embarrassment for walking in on you earlier.

he was forced to accept two things that day. he was going into heat. and he was consumed with thoughts of breeding you. breeding you so fucking full that there would be no question who you belonged to.

what the fuck had you done to him?

while you were gone, he spent that time writhing on your bed, fisting his cock to thoughts of impaling you on it. making you cry and claw at his back to cum inside you. even better for him that you were starting to become twice as shy around him, looking at him with a blush on your cheeks.

he scented all your clothes, rubbing on them and rolling around on them in his cat form. he rolled around on your sheets and pillows. and as for you, he scented you while you slept. this is what was best. if you smelled like him, no one would so much as dare to take you away from him.

you are his, damn it.

when scaramouche is in heat, he gets twice as possessive. he was incredibly suspicious and weary of anyone that approached or even looked at you, especially another male. if he thought there were too many people around, he insisted on taking different ways home to avoid them. he can and will snap at people if he felt they got too close.

especially when you let him get handsy with you in a moment of weakness one night. he pinned underneath him on the couch, grinding his straining cock between your legs while he pawed at your clothes. his teeth nipping at your lips and skin in between angry and frustrated kisses. you just smelled so fucking good he couldn't control himself. you moaned and mewled so sweetly underneath him.

it did happen one day. he didn't want you to go into the cafe to get your hot chocolate. he insisted on doing it for you, but in the end relented and let you go inside. everything was going smoothly until the barista asked you for your number. you didn't need someone's phone number to give them a cup of hot chocolate. this asshole didn't need your number.

you already had scaramouche. was he blind? that was what went through his head. he wanted to tear the barista's head off. he bet it would pop off so easy, like a bottle cap under too much pressure. if it wasn't for your voice pleading with him to calm down, he would've gotten physical with the barista.

anybody would've gotten fed up and exhausted by now. especially since he raised a further argument when you both were banned from ever coming back. he bartered down for you to be allowed back but not him, since you didn't do anything wrong. that you really liked the whipped cream on their hot chocolate.

scaramouche is the type of hybrid that you have to isolate with when he is in heat. that much was obvious. and that was what he needed the most right now. to be with you, and hide you away from the world, making sure nothing and nobody touched you while he was in heat.

he knew you were strong, but that's exactly why you needed him to protect you.

after the incident at the cafe, scaramouche only completely calmed down when he was fucking his tongue into your cunt. "such a doting, delicate little thing, aren't you," he hissed, looking up at you from between your thighs. "it's going to be a pleasure breeding you," your fingers tightened in his hair, tugging on his ears in an intoxicating way as you pushed his mouth down onto your pussy.

his tongue swirled around your clit, groaning as you grinded on his mouth. he didn't know what was sweeter. the way you tasted or the way you moaned as he latched his lips around your clit.

how good it felt to finally sink his claw into his delicate little mate. you put up with him. cared for him. doted on and indulged him. you'd made him fall so in love, so much so that it was too late by the time he noticed.

now he was going to take care of you in the way you deserved.

and in the dizzying pleasure of cumming on his tongue, you didn't quite know what happened. but what you did know is that you were in love with him to. you didn't expect this cat you found injured to be the force of literal nature that was scaramouche. complete with cute ears. before you knew it, he'd pulled you right in, and you were happy to let him do it, in all the comforting weight of his dominance.

"i want to hear you scream it, slut," scaramouche moaned, his hands tightening on your hips possessively. he had the perfect view of his cock pumping in and out of your pussy from behind. your walls squeezed around his cock hearing him mock your moans as he bottomed out into your sweet spot over and over again. "babble about how badly you want to be bred."

your sopping cunt clutched tight and warm like a glove, your walls gummy and perfect. his eyes rolled into the back of his head how good you felt squeezing his cock.

"please, breed me. you feel so good inside me," you cried out, drool soaking the pillow under your cheek. he chuckled shakily behind you, you were always so eager to please him. even the way you shook, creaming hard on his cock was an intoxicating sight to behold.

a truly delicate gift for him to break.

the harder he made you cum, the more you begged him to fuck you full of cum. "cock drunk whore," scaramouche moaned, his thrusts turning sloppy as his cock pulsed cum inside of you. he doubted you could hear his soft whimpers of bliss over your own, which were much louder.

[vatelixx]

On the concept of ‘want’,

Spencer Reid x afab!BAU!reader (written with early-ish seasons Spencer in mind)

SMUT!! (and fluff, and aftercare because im not a total hedonist), allusions to both Spencer and Reader being switches (but he’s mostly just down bad), autistic Spencer (the way it should be), mean reader (to everyone but him), reader has a very very high IQ when it comes to everything but a pretty genius— Spencer just wants that cookie so fucking bad.

Warnings: sub spencer (but also not entirely; he talks about human anatomy as he destroys her), maaaaaybe slight corruption kink (what? who wrote that there???), mentions of prior bullying and insecurity, first time (for Spencer, yess devirgin that hot nerd!!— do you think the BAU will get him a cake after?), brief mentions of past hypersexuality for reader, kinda rlly domestic. Some undertones of degradation but predominantly praise. Begging, crying (pussy so good he cried), etc etc

w.c: 5k (I feed)

a/n: Spencer’s first time getting fucked, my first time writing smut (we’re both going through it here). I’ve been watching too much Criminal Minds recently, so i’ve reverted back to my tumblr roots (im home i’m home). This is a new acc so like…. hi!!!

────────────

Right person, right time. It’s a concept that Spencer Reid is more than aware of. Define luck, at surface level, it’s a made-up hypothesis, idealistic, fantastical. Conjured up to aid the desperate (or the delusional). It’s something he refused to humour, obstinate to the notion, well, that was until you came spitballing into his life, sharp features, sharper tongue. You could cut with your words alone, a weapon to the BAU, jagged and fast-thinking, and so entirely unattainable. Rorschach tests, and an endless sea of profilers, it doesn’t matter— he’s not sure anyone is ever capable of truly pinpointing you.

Rocky start— after you became a permanent member to the team, it took months to coerce you into dropping your guard. A year and 14 days, to be exact.

But, it was possible. Hardened words and blunt comments shifted into something more with time. A gravitational pull, perhaps, that led to evolution— you, softer with him, more tender than you’ve ever showcased before.

Maybe it was that night when he told you about highschool, about what they did to him, boys like him, who were too intellectual for their own good. Different, in every sense of the word. Bullying at such a young, impressionable age can have prominent effects, chronic stress inflicted on an underdeveloped brain, they tied him to goal posts, stripped him naked, endless torment that he still carries with him now. Maybe that’s why you lowered your defenses. Put down the sword.

And sure, he never expected anything, nor asked for anything. He was definite that he wouldn’t get to experience cliche-dating. Longing glances and anticipated moments. It’s not like he was ever the most appealing candidate, too nervous, too neurodivergent. It’s hard to grow out of the mentality that no, everyone isn’t making fun of you, not when it consumed the entirety of his adolescence. That you can walk into a room, and not be seen, targeted, as an outcast. He’s just different. But he’s also human, and the chemicals in his brain do make him want.

You apparently. Because, you looked at him softly once, and he was done. Ruined. Gone for good. Or, in Morgan’s personal opinion, whipped.

And illogically, you wanted him too. That wasn’t ever part of the equation.

But theres a pattern now— dates every weekend. Movies, cafes, museums, an endless onslaught of you. Because somehow, thanks to luck, you reciprocated. He’ll never understand why, you’re too beautiful (it’s a hazard), but he tries. He tries.

──────────────────

December. A haze of christmas markets and blanketing coldness. You kiss him outside and he thinks he might be dying. You make him burn cold. He’s a logical person, so obviously he’s aware that he’s only freezing because your hands are shoved in his pockets, a desperate bid to seek warmth, but regardless, it’s more than he ever expected.

He laughs against your lips, fingers gripping the front of your coat as he draws you backwards so that you’re resting against a wall. “Mm..” he hums, “You should kiss me more often.”

Everyone knows. The entire team is aware of this, an unspoken agreement that your lingering moments and aimless touching are not platonic in the slightest. You work with profilers, secrets are never quite effective. Everyone knows, but it’s taboo, something that needs to be left undisturbed. Do they expect you to break him? Does he? Maybe, maybe it would be worth it— to hurt for you, because it’s always been you. He’ll take anything, he’s not greedy. He’ll live off scraps if he has to, anything to satiate this want that burns solely for you.

“Actually.. you should just always be kissing me,” he suggests, tone soft, “Every day of the week. All the time. And—“ he laughs, “You should also stop stealing body warmth. It’s rude. Hypothermia usually occurs when body temperature dips to around 95F, oh oh but there are so many factors to consider—“

“Is this you trying to imply you’re cold?” you ask.

“Perhaps. Or maybe i’m implying you should be working harder to warm me up.”

You’ve grown soft, he thinks. He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this level of affection. But its okay, you justify, mostly because it’s him. Spencer, and his pretty smile, and strange habits (sitting cross legged on tables, drinking coffee with excessive sugar, endless facts and a plethora of soft yearning glances at you when you’re interrogating— as if you’re not tearing an unsub to pieces). It’s terrifying, constant eggshells, because you can’t hurt him. Not like the others, distant fragments of your past.

You laugh in response to his comment, admiring the sight of him: flushed, with swollen lips and dilated eyes. He deserves to be like this, so thoroughly assured that despite all odds, you’re invested. All cards on the table. “You have a lot of requests, boy genius.”

He smiles boyishly. You’re hard lines, sure, a blade that can draw blood, but somehow, somehow, he’s always left unscathed. “Alright,” he answers, “You want requests? Here’s one, stay the night. Come over, stay over, i’ll cook breakfast and try not to burn it— and, and you can have the good side of the bed.”

“Spence,” you mutter, because of course there’s an underlying intention to ‘staying over’ and you're trying to be good here. To not let this fall into your past mistakes of sex and inevitable self-inflicted disgust. A cyclical cycle that clings to your skin. Everything is so new to him, the intimacy, the affection, and it’s nice being able to witness it— to see his reactions to innocuous touches, always disbelieving that he’s capable of this.

Fresh-eyes, so untainted to the sharpness of modern ‘love’.

You cup his face, god, under the dim shadows of the streetlight he’s beautiful. It’s a little alarming to be honest. More so disheartening really, because despite how much you remind him, he never believes you— obstinately refusing your compliments, as if you’d ever mock him. No, he’s different. He’s tender and disarming, and sometimes it feels unholy to touch him with calloused hands.

But, to Spencer, there is nothing unholy to this; the second you touch him, the entire universe crashes down into a singular moment.

“Just stay the night,” he reaffirms. It’s taken him over a month to get to this point, to be able to voice his wants, to comprehend his wants. Now, his thumb traces its way down the side of your face, tangible, real. “And tomorrow morning, there’ll be coffee and pancakes and—“ he laughs, “And there won’t be any regrets. I promise.”

You’re looking at him, wide-eyed and slightly disbelieving (because he’s somehow stumbled through the minefield of you without any consequences). He leans forward, his forehead resting against yours. “Don’t make me beg. I will beg.”

──────────────────

To confirm, he makes you incautious, irrational, willing to blatantly disregard any sort of control. Of course you end up at his apartment; the moment he mentioned begging, you were already half-way down the street.

Spencer’s place is… well, it’s everything you’d expect of him. Scattered novels adorning the floor, a mess of untidy thoughts, neglected papers on science, endless open textbooks left half-abandoned for other pursuits. It’s so him, clean but discombobulated.

He wants to apologize, make excuses for the lack of order, he probably should. He doesn’t do that though. He only crosses the room, stopping when he’s standing right in front of you, just gazing down. He has no idea what’s to come— for once, there are no patterns, no statistics he can reference.

So, he reaches for you, fingers tugging at the edges of your jacket. “Arms. Up,” he instructs and god, it’s a stupid order, but you follow it without any protest. He folds it over the couch, abandoned. Putting it back on alludes to leaving, and he’s hopeless enough to never want you to leave.

His hands then gravitate back to you and he starts to tug aimlessly at the material of your shirt. It’s been raining, and the fabric is soaked. “Hm,” he hums, “Off. Take it off.”

You laugh at that. Straight to the point. You don’t follow his orders, because one was certainly enough, and you’ve never been the type to obey blindly. Instead, you grip his waist, drive him back towards the nearest surface. An end table, some books go clattering, light damage, they’ll survive. His response is a gasp, a hitch of the breath.

“I was promised the good side of the bed, breakfast, pancakes. But sex? Hm, did you invite me over just to get in my pants? I’m wounded, Reid.” you mutter, pressing a series of soft kisses along the curvature of his jaw.

“No! No,” he retorts, breathless, “I was going to get you some comfortable clothes to change into. Damp clothes breed bacteria. You made this dirty,” Adding, “And not in the way I was concerned about.” under his breath.

You roll your eyes, “Oh, here we go—“ sure, you have the experience he lacks, but you’ve been on your best behavior. Dirty? That’s an insult to the exhausting self-restraint you’ve upheld recently.

“Yes— i’m the dirty one here, clearly.” you scoff, “Just casually corrupting you,” You tug him away from the end-table because you don’t want him bruised in any way, shape or form (it’s actually distressing; when you’re working, you seem hellbent on making sure no one even thinks about laying a hand on him. Unsubs be damned.)

Ego-centric, completely independent, individualistic until he came along.

You push him back against the couch, watching as he stumbles, as he falls. For a minute he just lies there, looking up at you with hazy eyes— pupils dilated and lips parted on a half-pained gasp.

And it’s a sight to see, the brilliant prodigy, the young genius, his normally-composed features now twisted into something stricken. His hands tighten around the material of the couch and he lets out a sound that’s a cross between a whine and a groan.

“Oh—“ that’s just a clear-cut moan, “You can definitely definitely keep corrupting me, in fact I endorse it. Completely.”

“3 PHDS, 2 B.A’s and you’re currently asking me to corrupt you? I don’t know, Doctor Reid, that’s certainly very forward,” you say, moving to sit on his lap, aware that you really should entertain this spot more often, even if you’re at severe risk of deflating.

Deflating. God. When did it come to this?

He laughs, “You’re the only person in this entire world that makes me act without a single coherent thought,” IQ abolished. “So yeah,” he murmurs, fingers tracing mindless patterns across the exposed strip of skin above your waistline. “Defini-definitively corrupt me.”

It’s taken so much to get to this point. So much to unpack, to understand, from Spencer’s perspective. There’s a lifetime of bullying that he has to dismantle, and sometimes he still anticipates the punchline when you kiss him— the biting laughs, not entirely dissimilar to school, when someone would belittle him, fake being his friend just for entertainment value.

So, when you stumble into the bedroom, when you remove his shirt, he knows this is improvement. He’s fighting this internal battle, unsure on how he should act: coy or defiant. Both, really. He wants to cover himself up, to pretend like you don’t disarm him, to fight and fight until you make him bleed. Anything, he’ll take anything from you.

“You are so so pretty,” you mutter when he’s sprawled out across the bed. You’ve never been someone to resort to praise; sex had always been cold and clinical, something to relieve stress, to undermine the burden of work, and the endless weight of sanguinary. But now? If he is the eye of the storm, then you’ll happily commit to the chaos of this.

“Careful, you’ll make me inherit a disorder here.” he mutters. Narcism— he’s the least likely to ever develop such symptoms. “Or cry. I could cry, it’s a potential. Maybe break-down?”

“Or,” he adds, his hands tracing up towards your shoulder blades. “All of the above. The trifecta of issues. It’s very likely.”

He rolls over on top, you’re down to just your lingerie now, pretty lace contrasting against your skin. Removing your clothes had been a whole ordeal, he’s fairly certain he almost died; you’re the epitome of beautiful, and he’s not sure how he ended up with everything when he was so resolute, silently accepting, he would always obtain nothing.

“I want to kiss you, but I don’t know, I feel like my body has lost the ability to function at the moment.” he breathes out.

“You should definitely kiss me,” you confirm, posing it as a choice, one that he has any say over— when in reality, youre already tugging him closer. Lips meeting lips. It’s not sane how the world fades into a nebulous haze the moment your mouths connect; time remains constant, logistically, nothing has changed. But it’s just so much that for a moment you doubt the concept of existence, doubt everything but him.

Genius falling for genius. Only you could laugh when he traces molecules into your skin. Spelling out words with elements: Livermorium, Uranium. LV U, it might not be an exact replica of the three worded phrase, but it certainly gets the point across.

“Spence—“ you bite into his lip, tugging the soft tissue between your teeth.

He groans, whimpers, pulls you closer, eliminating every infinitesimal distance between, slotting his hips against yours. He draws away from your mouth, lips leaving a trail of kisses down your neck as he reaches for your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours and pinning it against the bed. His free one is now wandering, slipping beneath your panties to touch.

“Do you know how much I studied about human anatomy after you first kissed me?”

“Weeks.” he answers when you respond with a muffled groan. Your hands are on his back now, tracing the journey of his spine. He’s in over his head, but there’s so much want, so much he wants to do but never thought he would be capable of. And oh, when he begins to draw circles against your clit, slow experimental halos, those soft touches of yours evolve into grasping, gripping. By the time he’s got a finger slotted inside, he’s fairly certain he’s being scratched. Nail indents and faint white lines, souvenirs.

“I know about every erogenous zone the human body possesses, every single one.” He says, because whilst he might lack in physical experience, he has enough intellect to memorize placement, biology. Plus, he’s a fast learner. His finger bends, and both of you moan.

“Spence— fuck, feels good.” you gasp, tangled hands clutching tighter, tighter again until your knuckles are white and you’re trembling.

The human body is something of a fascination to him; the way it reacts, how each nerve and ligament can respond to even the most tentative of touches. But you aren’t every human, you are you, and he has an insatiable desire to discover and catalog every single response your body gives.

He adds another finger, slowly, eyes fixed on your face, gauging the reaction. When he curls both digits, a sharp exhale is your response. “I’m convinced I’ve discovered new anatomy facts in the last few months, just because of you.”

Maybe it’s not fair that he’s so good. First times are supposed to be fumbling and awkward, a mess of hormones and inexperience. To say you haven’t been touched like this before is a severe understatement. The meaningless sex, the onslaught of bodies doesn’t measure up to him, the way he’s so focused on how you respond, on what your body enjoys— it would be endearing (and it is!), but you're currently too preoccupied to voice such a notion.

“Doing so good, holy shit—“ you mutter, blissed out beyond comprehension. You're making art on his back, only vaguely aware of the pain. Though when you realize you’ve scarred his skin, you're drawing away, moving to tangle your hand in his hair instead. But Spencer doesn’t even care, doesn’t even register the inflictions; he likes the physical marks you leave behind, a tangible remnant of all you do to him.

And sure, he’d laugh, usually, at your responses. But it’s hard to laugh, when his own ability to form any coherent sound has been completely destroyed. He’s a mess, his breathing shaky, and his brain is a constant buzz of fragmented musings consisting of you, you, you.

He draws his fingers out, earning a discernible groan, maybe a fuck you (which he does intend to do). But right now, he’s already slotting his face between your thighs, removing those soaked, ruined, panties of yours. He doesn’t have a single thing to compare it to. But he already knows this is his favorite place to be, and he’s fairly certain he’ll be spending most nights between your thighs, learning and memorizing every reaction and noise, each movement, and the ways to repeat them.

He runs his tongue along your clit, savoring just how wet you are, a mess that he can bury his face into. You’re looking down at him with something akin to shock now, and he can only laugh, blow air against your clit, then drag his tongue back over the sensitive bud, drawing it into his mouth to suck.

His movements are tentative at first, unpractised, but soon gaining confidence. He doesnt need to do this, you're aware— you could take him now. And yet, hes here, between your thighs for no reason other than want. Your reaction is visceral, because it’s always been about efficiency in the past, quick touches to get you there before the other person can derive their own pleasure from the act.

He’s not like that. God, hes not like that at all.

“Oh,” is all you can say, gripping his hair down to the root, instructing each movement until he gains incentive, finding repeat patterns that your body reacts to. Then, you can only arch and moan, noises filtered out into the air. He’s back to opening you up now, two deft fingers pressed inside, working diligently to tear you apart.

“Oh? That’s all you have to say to me? Oh?” he retorts.

“Shut up,” you huff, “Put that mouth of yours to work.”

“Mhm— I plan to. God, you’re so perfect.” he mutters, voice distorted, muffled. “That’s it—“ he fights the urge to explain exactly what’s occurring in your body every time his fingers abuse that spot. Instead, he keeps his mouth busy.

He’s certain he’s memorized most areas of your body from years of pining, and that’s what brings him an unrepentant sense of satisfaction. Because he was memorizing your body, you, long before he even got the chance to touch or taste you.

“Wanna stay here,” he says, and he’s being petulant now, because there’s something so good about being reduced to movements. To follow the pattern, to take care of your body, mindless to anything else but you. Pussy-drunk, to put it less eloquently.

“Shit,” you buck up against his mouth, watching as he buries his face entirely into you, as he replaces his fingers with his tongue, nose bumping bumping your clit, consuming his senses entirely.

“Use my face, yeah. ‘M all yours anyway.”

“Fuck, fuck fuck— Spence. Gonna cum—“

When you fall apart, inevitable, he doesn’t stop— not until you’re boneless and spent beneath him. Back arching, stars burning through closed eyes. Pretty constellations that have you blissed out beyond belief. The pleasure is white-hot, feverish in intensity.

And then he’s moving, shifting his body back over you. He’s all soft touches and languid kisses against your mouth, not bothering to break contact as he settles himself fully over you, the weight of his hips pressing into yours. He’s hard, dick pushing up against his boxers, his sexual libido had always been low until you came into his life. Now, his wants seem to fight for release constantly.

“My turn, I believe.” he grins, pressing a kiss to your jaw, “Not that you have to, of course. It’s not an obligation, uh— more so a beg?”

“Of course it’s an obligation,” he goes to protest, to say you don’t owe him anything, so you sigh. “A thankyou, maybe?”

Fumbling hands, still shaky from pleasure, undo buttons. Unclasping his belt, removing loose fabric until he's bare before you. There’s something nervous to his gaze, something unspoken, lingering in the air. “Hey, hey. I’ve got you, yeah? You’re okay,” you promise, before your eyes shamelessly look down. He’s straining, pre-cum lingering at his tip, dick pressed up against his stomach now. “Fuck, okay— yeah. Good. Great even.” first time you've ever stumbled over a sentence in your life.

There’s so much to be concerned about. The fact he’s naked, that you could destroy everything with a few serrated words, years and years of rebuilding, reconstructing. But you don’t— and he can’t help but laugh nervously. “Glad to be up to your standards. I’d uh, hate to disappoint.”

“Always the over-achiever,” you respond, shifting away from him— there’s amusement to your expression when he groans, pitifully, when he rolls onto his back, draping an arm over his face.

Predictable. Condoms in his bedside table. At least he's prepared. You open the wrapper with your teeth, discarding it somewhere amongst the tangle of limbs and sheets, too hellbent on finding him again.

Oh, in this position, you have full, unrestricted view of his body. Endless planes of skin, begging to be marked, sentenced indefinitely to your touch. By the time you straddle his hips, hes a flushed mess beneath you. “I— um, you look really really pretty right now.” he stumbles, idiot.

His dilated eyes take you in. Every contour and curve, the way your hair hangs over your face, eyes up eyes up eyes up. He fails when you run your hand across his dick, thumb brushing against the tip. By the time you’ve slipped the condom over him, hes gone. Bucking and moaning, and so so much better than his hand could ever be.

He wants to be inside of you, but it’s hard to think right now, let alone vocalize the words. I want, he thinks, I want everything, with you.

Your name is on his tongue, muttered and repeated, a reverent prayer of sorts. He needs to gain back his control here, to return to equal footing.

“Yeah—“ he breathes out, “So much of an overachiever, considering I had you making all of those noises—“ his words falter, die out, when you sink down. When you take him. Wrapped around, tight. Warm heat that sets alight every nerve in his overstimulated body. He has half the mind to apologize for his comment because you’re about to ruin him, he knows.

“I thought you wanted me to corrupt you, hm?” you retort. The pace is slow, mostly for his own sanity. Though, the feel of him, the way he slots into you, warm skin pressed against warm skin is intoxicating, and it’s a battle to keep your composure. To not just fall apart under the weight of him.

“What’s that, pretty boy? Struggling? Because you were so egotistical a few seconds ago? Where’s all that ego gone? Straight between your legs, I think.”

A whimper. It’s a whimper, a pained thing ripped straight from his throat. He’s making indiscernible noises now, messy sounds pooling from his swollen lips. The praise, the strained undertones of degradation? It’s too much. But god does he love you for it, because that’s you through and through. Sharp, and brittle to everyone but him, he wants to look, he does, albeit he has to turn his head to the side, bury half of his face in a pillow because he’s gone. At this point, he can only take it.

“I— um, mhm. Yeah,” he slurs. He’s almost incoherent at this point; he’s been reduced to nothing, just a mass of skin, bone, and flesh at your disposal, to own and use and he can’t find it in himself to feel humiliated about it, not when it’s you.

“Can’t— um, I was wrong, you’re— oh god,” the sounds of your body hitting his, back arching as your pace picks up. “Oh, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry —baby, can’t, can’t take it. That’s…”

It’s a lot for his first time, that’s for certain.

“Yes, you you can. I know you can, Spence.” you mutter, interlocking your fingers, letting them hang near your hips. “You feel so good— so so fucking good. Look at you, so brain dead for me. Taking it all so well, love.”

Love?— oh he wants to be buried with that one. He’s a mindless disaster, impenetrably devoted to you alone.

He doesn’t even know how he’s saying words at this point, it’s as if his brain-to-mouth connection has been severed by your very presence itself. It’s not possible to form a coherent thought when you’re riding him like this, taking him so deep that he’s seeing stars. There’s tears pooling in his eyes, he looks pretty when he cries. Especially when it’s derived from pleasure, when he can let go of the burdens, everything he’s endured, when it’s just sensation. Nothing more, no more thoughts.

There’s safety here, an element of home, home home bliss, that has him keening. He wants to stay buried here forever, where nothing can ever hurt him again. When it’s just you, and your pretty words, and your exploitative power to destroy him. You never do, anyway. Even when you could, you restrain.

“Can’t, ’m gonna…, Please, please, don’t stop.” he whines, “Pleasepleaseplease— oh, can’t— I can’t.”

He grips you tight, rolls you over, mostly so he can feel you closer. The sight of you riding him was excruciating, but this is worse because now there’s no gap separating you. Now, he can bury his face into the crook of your neck, burn himself in the warmth of your touch.

“Spence..” you mutter.

“I know. I know—“ hes ruined, sloppy thrusts, whimpers catching against the stifling air. “Feels s’good.”

He doesn’t know what to do, how to breathe, so he just runs his thumb over your clit, watching your prominent reaction, watching as you gasp, moan— oh, and then you’re clenching around him, tightening the pleasure, and yesyesyes.

You’re too gone, moving still, and he can only cant his hips forwards, buck and squirm until he’s sobbing under the weight of your ministrations, releasing so hard that he can barely remember his name, no cognitive function, in the haze of his orgasm.

“There’s my boy— so pretty for me.” he can vaguely hear you saying, and if you’re talking him through it, he can only hear snippets of praise now anyway.

“Mhm— mhm. Yours, yeah.” he mumbles, body sinking against the sheets, a few little whimpers escaping his lips as you milk the rest of his pleasure from him.

Tangled limbs and sweat-stained skin. “You okay?” you ask in the aftermath.

“So okay,” he agrees, shifting closer, back pressed against your torso— sue him for being little spoon.

──────────────────

The next morning, you wake to an absence of Spencer. It’s unsettling, to say the least. So, you're quick to fumble over the buttons of one of his shirts, fabric creased, matching the tousled nature of your hair, disheveled, remnants of the ruination of last night.

For a moment, you consider that he might’ve left — but there he is, in the kitchen, attempting to make breakfast.

“Hey,” you mutter, leaning against the counter to watch.

Scratches adorn his back, indent marks from your nails, crescent reminders, stain his waist, and he’s content to wear them. If anything, he can’t wait to add to the budding collection.

Pancakes. The good side of the bed. Coffee. All of his promises from last night are being thoroughly met, even if he’s burning the food, and shit, he didn’t realize the coffee would be finished so soon. For all his calculations, he’s fairly off-center today.

And then, you come padding across his kitchen, embellished in only his shirt, unbuttoned near the top to expose your collarbone, and he’s fairly certain the last remainders of his IQ disappear.

“Hi! Hi,” he says, wide-eyed, “Um, making.. breakfast. You look, wow yeah.”

Breakfast lays forgotten.

[hattedhedgehog]

My (spoiler-free) thoughts on Dragon Age: The Veilguard

The review embargo has lifted and I can officially say that I've played through Dragon Age: The Veilguard early! 

Here are my spoiler-free thoughts and personal opinions on the overall gameplay experience: 

Narrative:

Rook's dialogue and decisions impact SO MUCH of the game, and come into play later on. From companions remembering your beverage preferences, to whether someone you spared shows up later to help or harm you, it feels like the game is paying attention and that you matter.

The stakes are unbelievably high. The Evanuris are utterly terrifying villains, in ways that Corypheus wasn’t. You really feel the magnitude of their power on a personal level as well as a worldwide level.

Whatever your thoughts on him, Solas is FUN as a character. He’s fun to talk to, fun to talk strategy with, fun to rile up and verbally spar with and fun to grudgingly ally with. Now that he can drop his former act and appear to you as the Dread Wolf, and you get to see his memories, you and he team get to decide how to utilise his knowledge and how far your trust extends.

The setup and payoff of the story beats are absolutely superb. The emotional turmoil as a player of being ensnared by things that was foreshadowed earlier in the game is utterly exquisite. Every thread of the larger tapestry has been woven with so much love by the writing team, and every character’s arc tie into the larger story in interesting ways.

The characters feel like they have full lives outside of the player character. You frequently go exploring their home turf and can meet their friends and family. They interact with each other on their own and move about the Lighthouse to spend time together, leave notes for each other, and talk about each other even when the other isn’t there. The team feels like they all really care about each other as well as you. 

You can tell what your approval rating is with characters, but if you want to romance them you have to put some thought into it. Interactions and world events besides the heart on the dialogue wheel influence their attraction to you.

Gameplay:

The combat is very engaging, and I enjoyed how unique all the enemies were.

Abilities in the skill tree can be refunded so you can redirect to a different specialization, which is really handy if you’re indecisive and overwhelmed at first (like I get when choosing abilities).  Most companions can get healing abilities no matter what class, so you don’t have to worry about balancing your rogues/mages/warriors (most of the time).

Climbing, balancing on ledges, using ziplines and sliding down slopes made environments feel more immersive. Additionally I like how each companion has unique abilities that let them interact with the world (fixing mechanisms, breathing fire, summoning bridges from the Fade, etc), and learning their abilities alongside them helps you grow closer.

The wayfinder light makes everything feel streamlined, so it's way harder to get lost while exploring an area. I hardly had to look at the mini map at all, and usually I’m glued to it! This meant I could actually look around at the beautiful environments and appreciate how lively they were, even without NPCs.

The upgrade system is far less overwhelming than in Inquisition; there are a finite amount of weapons/armour/accessories to be found, which are designed for each specific character like in DA:O and DA:2. There's also no longer crafting from scratch. If you loot an item you already have, it automatically upgrades the single item rather than giving you duplicates.

You know that frustration of coming across higher-level armour that just isn’t as flattering as your current one? Not to worry, you can collect “appearances” which you can toggle on as the visual for the armour while still retaining the benefits of the original.

I cannot stress enough how simple and easy to use the inventory is. It's heavenly. 

Using the shops of specific cities increases your reputation within those cities, which is a good incentive to explore and use the shops. I usually hate in-world shopping but here it was simple, and thinking about it tactically worked pretty well.

Quests sometimes reach a point where you can't continue at your current place in the story, and must return to in later acts. When re-exploring familiar areas, everything feeling big enough to be fresh with each visit, and new loot and codex entires appear.

Edit: something I forgot to mention. In character creator, you get to make your Inquisitor after you make Rook. The build menus are all the same, so manage your energy accordingly for doing it all again immediately after for your Inky. I spent an hour and a half building my Rook and wanted to get right to playing, and had to re-wire my brain a bit to be patient and keep going with the CC. (Seeing my Inquisitor with new graphics was awesome though).

A couple little things I appreciated:

The control sounds are very pleasing. From the whoosh of opening the combat wheel to the clinking of upgrades to the subtle whir of holding the decision button, they're a nice touch.

If companions are interrupted in conversation by combat, they resume it afterwards with a "what were you saying before?".

Photo mode is so fun to play with, and you can adjust blur/brightness/lens/depth within the scene. You can also toggle on and off the visibility of your Rook, your party, NPCs and enemies!

Assan learns new interaction tricks at the Lighthouse as the game goes on.

Nitpicks:

Overall I had an incredibly positive experience. The gripes I had were tiny things like:

I genuinely like the new art style of the game as a whole. However, the blurriness of some of the features in contrast with some elements being very crisp was distracting.

When trying to sell valuables for faction points without using Sell All, it takes quite a long time to count up all the individual sales, and it isn't a live counter. So it's kind of annoying if you get +3 points for each item you sell, need 150 points to get the next tier of items, and over 10K worth of valuables that you want to sell to other factions. 

If you do lots of quests without returning to the Lighthouse often, occasionally companions at the Lighthouse will have dialogue pertaining to the quests you've just finished as if you haven't done them.

You can pet the dogs and cats in the cities, but Rook turns their back to the camera to do it and it blocks most of the action unless you rotate quickly.

Gender stuff:

I was incredibly moved that not only can Rook be trans/nonbinary in the character creator if you so choose, but they get options to feel differently about their identity and journey, and it impacts their dialogue and how they relate to other characters! To access this make sure to interact with Varric's Mirror in your room in the Lighthouse. There are many conversation options throughout the game to discuss your identity with other characters, or relate your change of self to other situations. Crucially, it comes up when entering a romance and you have to communicate with your partner about it, which I never even THOUGHT of including in a game because it seemed impossible to even allow trans main characters to begin with.

There are also multiple trans and nonbinary characters throughout Thedas. What I found the most realistic was that just like in life, it is a consistent presence in any character's life, and comes up in conversation more than once. I have never seen a game this forthcoming and open about the topic of transitioning, and it was so validating. 

Final thoughts:

I adore the other games in the franchise. Something about The Veilguard affected me in a way no other game has. I cried multiple times while playing this game, both from joy and sadness. What struck me most is that the people who worked on this game REALLY listened to feedback from previous games, and were very set on making a piece of art that meant something to people. Even during the last few years of me testing the game, things have been adjusted and changed in direct response to our reactions and suggestions. It's surreal and quite touching.

Mileage will vary, but my playthrough was 70 hours on very low difficulty and I haven't done every side quest yet. I could easily have spent more than 100 hours in the game if I wasn't pressed for time.

I hope you enjoy this game as much as I have. See you in Thedas.

[lemonlover1110]

Hi for the request could you do one of Toji presenting Y/N to Megumi as a kid? And being nervous because it's the first time he's presenting a girl to him years after his wife passed away, but then he sees them having a cute interaction? Thank you!!!

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Warnings: Pure Fluff

*It just came to me randomly idk OSJFOSJ

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Should Toji be this worried? It’s the first time he brings a woman over to meet his son after his wife’s death, and he’s scared how the two of you will get along. Toji has come to the realization that he loves you, and he wants something more serious with you. And while Toji does love you, if his six-year-old has a bad opinion of you, he’ll end things.

Toji’s whole world is Megumi, and he won’t hesitate to do anything for him which is why Toji is sweating. It’s cool out yet droplets of sweat drip down his forehead as he waits for your arrival. Megumi is sitting beside him, kicking his feet into the air as his little eyes focus on the television. Toji loses his mind, while Megumi doesn’t give a care in the world.

There’s a knock on the door, and Toji stands up, proceeding to wipe his sweaty hands on his pants. Megumi finally tears his attention away from his show and asks, “Is it her?”

“Yeah…” Toji sounds nervous, something Megumi doesn’t pick up on. Megumi stands up as well, walking beside Toji to open the door. Toji broke it down to Megumi the previous night, and Megumi looked more than okay with the news. Toji fears that Megumi’s changed his mind though.

Toji opens the door to find you holding a bouquet of flowers. There’s a big smile on your face as you see him, leaning in for a kiss. Toji is reluctant but he kisses you back before clearing his throat and asking, “Are the flowers for me?”

“They’re for…” You begin, but a certain movement catches your eye. Your eyes move down to find the person you’ve come here to meet, hiding behind his father and tugging Toji’s pants. You’re grinning when you say his name, “Megumi!”

“Hi…” Megumi is suddenly shy. He was excited to meet you but then his father suddenly opened the door. You crouch down and extend the bouquet of yellow roses to him. 

“Take them, Megumi.” Toji nods his head, and Megumi is hesitant before taking them. Him and the roses are nearly one size, which is a hilarious sight to see. Toji is about to take them from him, put them in a vase and then put them in his bedroom; it’s easier than having Megumi take them around, but Megumi refuses to let them go.

“Your daddy told me that you liked roses, and I didn’t want to come empty handed.” You explain, standing up. Toji welcomes you in, and you walk behind him to the living room. 

You’re not sure where to sit, though you’ve been in Toji’s apartment many times before. The environment is different with his little one here. Megumi puts his flowers down on the coffee table before running away to his bedroom, which makes Toji roll his eyes.

“I don’t know why he’s suddenly so shy.” Toji confesses, keeping his voice low so Megumi doesn’t hear him. You chuckle, watching as Toji takes his usual seat and pats the spot next to him. You sit down next to him, and rest your head on his shoulder.

“I know you’re nervous but I get along with kids.” You tell him, and Toji wonders if you’ve read his mind… Or is it simply that obvious? You lift your head from Toji’s shoulders when you hear the little footsteps coming your way.

“You can have him.” Megumi extends his arms, revealing a chubby cat– Not a plush, but an actual animal. “He’s really soft and friendly.”

Toji’s eyes widen, and he realizes that the neighbor’s adorable little cat, Muttons, wasn’t just missing. Megumi stole him. Little Megumi who fawns over adorable little Muttons, claiming he wants his own cat each and every time. Toji never fulfills the wish so Megumi took matters into his own hands.

Yet, Megumi is giving you the cat. He likes you. He likes you enough to give you the cat that he stole. You swear your heart melts as you take the cat from Megumi and you stick out your bottom lip as you look at Toji. You’re about to cry, how does someone like Toji have a literal angel as a son?

You two are surely going to get along. Toji realizes he was worried for nothing, but now he has another matter to worry about.

“Megumi, what have you been feeding the cat?”

[luveline]

Bombshell reader and Spencer finding out she’s pregnant

fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for pregnancy / reader wants to be pregnant

“This is such a peculiar feeling.” 

Spencer’s ready for you physically before his mind has caught up, his hand reaching out for you despite his eyes steadfast on the book he has held to his knee. Legs crossed, relaxing in the supple leather of one of his armchairs, Spencer almost forgot you were here. “What?” he asks. 

“What did I say, or what’s peculiar?” 

“What’s peculiar?” he asks, letting the book fall down the side of his thigh. 

You shuffle closer to his legs, looking down at your clasped hands. “I feel really weird. For a few days. A bit sick, I think.” 

He’s not expecting you to say that; it’s been such a quiet evening, and you haven’t mentioned being ill once yet, despite having slept here and spent the day here in your soft pyjamas. “What’s wrong?” he asks. 

Because the thing is, Spencer loves you more than he’s ever loved anybody. It’s immediately unnerving for him to hear you aren’t well, because he doesn't want you to have a single shred of strife in your life, not even a papercut. He pulls you closer and closer, looking up into your face, begging to know what’s wrong and unashamed or caring so much. “You’re worrying me,” he prods when you don’t answer. 

“Sorry, I’m just…” You lean forward gently. Spencer takes your weight to his side, his cheek to your chest. You face down, wrapping an arm behind his shoulder. “Just have a funny feeling,” you whisper. 

“What kind of feeling?” he asks. Spencer could tell you a hundred different facts on funny feelings, gut feelings, and intuition, but that’s not strictly helpful right now. Then again, he knows he’s loved, and so he says the most burning one aloud before he forgets, “Intuition is based on the collating of facts by your brain to predict future events. It’s usually unconscious.” 

You touch his hair mindlessly. “Is it usually right?” 

“I think that’s up to opinion. Why, angel?” he asks, letting his voice slip into a deeper, settled rasp. He hopes it says what he’s trying to prove to you every single day, that he will take care of you for as long as you’ll let him. “What are you thinking is wrong?” 

“I don’t know if it’s wrong…” 

He’s so confused. “You can tell me anything,” he assures you, pulling at your hands. There’s room in the armchair for you so long as you’re okay with putting your legs over his, and you are, curling up next to him with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. 

“I know, Spencer. Just let me think about it for a minute.” 

“Okay.” He takes your hand once again. For a few minutes he waits in the quiet, rubbing small circles into the back of your hand, trying hard not to look at you lest you feel pressured to talk. 

“Okay,” you say quietly, “I have a few things in that bag I brought over for emergencies, you know? In the bathroom. And I have a pregnancy test in there, so I’m going to take it. How do you… how would you feel about that?” 

“I’d feel whatever you needed me to,” he says instinctively, the word pregnancy on a flashing look in his mind’s eye. “You think you might be pregnant?” 

“Before I take it, before, is that a bad thing if I am?” 

He’s shocked to see you acting this way, so far from your regularly scheduled programming. Spencer always assumed that if you ever did become pregnant, he’d learn about it like everybody else. You’d tell him with a big smile or a proud kiss and go about your day. You know what you're worth, and to be pregnant is your decision, your body. 

“Of course not,” he says, frowning. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Why are you asking me?” 

“Because it’s something that would affect both of us?” 

“No, of course, of course, angel, I just mean, why would it ever be a bad thing?” He puts his hand on your neck. “Unless you think it is.” 

“This isn’t something I get to just decide by myself, this decision. I can’t make it alone,” you say. 

“Yes you can.” He cups your neck. “But I’d love to make it with you.” 

You smile. He can tell you’re going to share your thoughts with him before you do, your eyes clearing with worry for now, and instead shining with your usual, breath-stealing light. “I hope I am,” you say. 

He hadn’t known he’d feel this way until right this second. “I hope you are too.” 

Your giggle sounds ever so slightly teary and hug him. You kiss his neck, and then you spring out of his lap to drag him with you to the bathroom. It’s a straightforward process but the waiting is agony, you and him sitting on the counter by the sink basin, hands squeezing at each other's fingers with the test baking on his thigh. 

“This is crazy,” you murmur. “We were having a normal day.” 

“Normal to amazing would be good,” he says. 

“What are we gonna do?” 

“Well, I’ll have to make some more money.” 

“I’m serious.” 

“So am I,” he says with a laugh. “Do you know how expensive children are?” 

“How did your mom afford you and your three PhDs?” 

“I got most of that stuff for free,” he says, “on account of being smart for my age.” 

You laugh softly. “That’s one way to say it.” 

Spencer leans down to kiss your shoulder. “We’ll have to move in together. Like, forever.” 

“Oh no.” You prop your head on his. “I basically live here anyways. All the time.” 

We’ll have to get married, Spencer thinks, but that’s not necessarily true, and then thinks it should probably be a surprise, before he says, “And I’ll have to ask you to marry me.” 

“Not just because I’m–”

“No, not just because you’re pregnant,” he says, though neither of you know yet if that’s true. “Never.” 

“That would be admirable.” 

He doesn’t know about that, but he knows one thing. “I love you. Really. More than anything.” 

“Don’t worry, Spencer. I love you too.” 

“Would that be something you wanted?” he asks quietly. 

“I’ll say yes whenever you want to ask me,” you say, equally as quiet. “I would’ve said yes five years ago.” You weren’t together five years ago, and he believes it anyways.

Spencer kisses up your cheek and pulls you into his side with a last press of his lips to your temple. The test on his thigh hasn’t changed. It’s a digital one, so you’ll know for sure just as soon as it’s ready. He feels like he can’t breathe right, waiting, waiting, wishing. 

“I’m with you no matter what,” he says under his breath. 

“I know.” You turn your lips into his cheek, breath fanning his skin. “You know pregnancy makes a woman more beautiful, right?” 

“I don’t see how that could possibly happen to you, but I’m excited nonetheless.” 

You laugh and smile into his cheek, kissing the slight hollow of it tenderly. 

On your thigh, the test blinks to Pregnant. 

You don’t notice, too busy kissing him still, your smile hard to ignore as you mumble, “If I’m pregnant, and we’re gonna do all those things you said before, I promise I’ll make you happy, Spence. I’m gonna be good to you. We’re going to be so, so happy, we’re gonna have a house with a garden and a hundred types of flowers, and we’ll keep bees at the end of it, and we’ll have two libraries for all your books, three if you want it, and–”

“I’ll make you happy,” he echoes, “I promise. I’m gonna take care of everything.” 

“–the nursery…” You stop kissing him, hearing what it is he hasn’t managed to say in the wavering tone of his voice. You look down as he passes you the test. 

“No matter what you want,” he swears. 

Your happy tears are plentiful and not what he’s expecting. You wrap your arms around his neck and cry with your legs hanging off of the counter, the test digging into his shoulder, drawing a line over his skin as you check it to be sure and prompt another round of tears. They aren’t loud tears. Your sniffles are half giggle. 

“We never do things in the right order,” you say, blissfully happy. 

“I don’t think there’s a wrong one.” His turn now to press kisses to your tacky cheek.

“We used to hold hands under the round table.” You shudder with tears. 

Lovelorn and unsure, not even dating, your fingers sewn together under the conference table as someone spoke you through the case of the day. His heart in his throat, and your thumb rubbing circles so slowly into his skin his wrist would ache for hours afterwards remembering. You and Spencer have always done things in your own order, and he’d never say wrong. 

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

"cold feet (literally)" - spencer reid x fem!reader

you wake up in the middle of the night to get a pair of socks

wc: 1k

cw: reader is described as wearing a bra, sickeningly sweet fluff, two idiots in love

Spencer keeps his apartment climate-controlled at a brisk sixty-eight degrees Fahrenheit. He likes to be cold, he says, and you generally don’t mind. You run hot anyway, so if, on the off chance you do get cold when you’re lounging around on his couch or perusing his bookshelves, you grab one of the throw blankets Garcia’s knitted for him and wrap it around your shoulders. 

Tonight is different, in that you were not planning on sleeping over. Your relationship with Spencer works so well, in your opinion, because you both like to be independent, so rather than be with each other every moment of every day that he’s home, you orbit around each other like planets. You spend many evenings over at his place, and he spends just as many as yours, but eventually, the other person goes home. 

Not that you didn’t like sleeping in the same bed as Spencer, of course, but the relationship was still fresh, and you both liked that you were taking things slow. Tonight, however, you started a movie with him rather late, and by the time it was over, you were bleary-eyed and your bones felt laden. Spencer was more than willing to offer you the empty side of his bed for the night. 

You arrived in sweatpants and a t-shirt, so you just took your bra off and laid down. Spencer splurged on a fancy orthopedic mattress, so you somehow both sunk into it and rested on top of it like a glass on a table. It was insanely comfortable, and both you and Spencer really were wiped out, so you went right to sleep. 

When your eyes flutter open a few hours, you’re laying on your side. The first thing you notice is that the room is not completely dark. No, in fact, there’s a stream of moonlight, or maybe a street lamp outside, creeping in through the curtains, casting a soft, gray-filtered glow over the room. 

You feel Spencer’s hand loosely on your hip, and his knee resting lightly against the back of your thigh. Your immediate reaction is not to move for fear of waking him, but your feet are icicles. The air around you is cold, too, but the blankets remedy that. You just need socks. 

I am molasses, you coach yourself, moving languidly and carefully to rise into a sitting position. However, you lack the FBI stealth training needed to rise out of bed without waking your boyfriend, because when you look over your shoulder, his eyes are very clearly open. 

There’s a tired yet playful little smirk as he sits up, leaning against the headboard. “Sneaking out already?” he asks, his voice still rich and thick with sleep, and you suddenly wish you’re able to see him like this more often. Maybe this whole going home to go to sleep thing is simply for the birds. 

“No, of course not,” you laugh softly. The mattress creaks as you finally stand up, your bare toes spreading against the soft carpet. As you pad over to his dresser, you shoot him a performative smile over your shoulder. “My feet are just freezing.” 

“Do you want me to adjust the thermostat?” Spencer asks immediately, shifting the blankets off of him so he can, presumably, get out of the bed. 

“No, no, it’s okay,” you insist, holding up your hand. He stops in his place. “It’s just my feet, Spence,” you assure him. The cherry wood creaks when you tug the top drawer open, plucking the first pair of socks you see out off the top. 

Spencer’s mismatched socks are meticulously organized in their correct pairs, as it turns out. You smile to yourself when you realize this means he takes the time each day to couple up an incorrect pair of socks before putting them on his feet. 

You select a pair of purple ones with little kiwi fruits printed on them, affection for the ridiculous man in bed behind you bubbling up in your chest, making it feel as if it’s filled with helium. Like you could float up to the ceiling at any moment. 

You’re still smiling stupidly as you perch yourself on the edge of the bed. You slide his socks over your bare feet, wiggling your toes around for a moment. “Why are you smiling, angel?” Spencer’s asking curiously, and you feel his foot nudge your back. 

You lie back down in the bed, shaking your head softly as you lay on your side and place your head against Spencer’s chest. He takes a second to adjust, slinking down so he’s lying flat on his back, then he tugs you a little closer. 

Your cheek rubs against the soft, worn fabric of his t-shirt. You place your palm down against his flat tummy, and consequently feel his chin press into the top of your head. “What is it?” he asks again. 

“I just think you’re the bee’s knees, that’s all,” you say softly, earning a small chirp of a laugh from your boyfriend. 

“The bee’s knees, huh?” he rakes his fingers through your hair slowly. The action is lulling you like straight melatonin, making you even more tired. “Did you know that phrase actually used to mean something small and insignificant? Over time it developed to refer to something or someone that is greatly admired.” 

You close your eyes, your body relaxing against him as he speaks. “Do bees even have knees?” you ask through a yawn. 

“Technically speaking, no,” Spencer brushes his thumb along your temple, then across the top of your ear, as if he is charting all the smooth parts of you. “But they do have a ball-and-socket joint between their leg segments, which allows them the flexibility to move their little legs around. So when they dance to show their hive mates where the good honey is, they move their legs around.” He laughs softly at this notion, and you feel your weight sink into the mattress. 

“You make me want to dance,” you whisper, smiling with closed eyes against his chest. “So, you’re the bee’s knees.” 

Spencer hums fondly in response to this, then kisses your forehead. “That’s kind of a reach, angel,” he says. “But I think you’re the cat’s pajamas, so who am I to judge?”

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Next caller.

《 Pairings: College!Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader

《 Summary: Eddie hosts a late night radio show for his college campus, where he discusses various different topics. He's mostly known for his DnD and sex talk segments. You've been a long-time listener who works up the courage to finally call in for some help.

《 Warnings: Smut, 90s!Eddie, he's around 24 here. Phone sex, dirty talk, voyeurism, masturbation (female), sex toys. Eddie refers to the reader as sweetheart, good girl, and Miss caller. I didn't want to use y/n, so he's given you some pet names instead.

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: Please reblog, comment, and like to show support. Not proofread. Please ignore mistakes.

Mini series masterlist

18+ no minors

Year 1990

Eddie was in his final semester of college with a very popular radio show. He became pretty much well-known on campus overnight. His radio show is known as "The Munson Experience," and it slowly became an overnight hit.

Fans of DnD tuned in for his hour of lore telling and tips on how to build up your fantasy world. Metal heads tuned in for his controversial opinions on bands. Others listened specifically for his special segments in regard to the topic of sex. Boyfriends called for advice on dating and different ways to get their girls off. Girlfriends called him to give thank you's and ask what they could do to repay the favor. He would have callers tell him their most outrageous stories.

Eddies show became popular very fast after he introduced his sex segment. He even became some what of celebrity at your college. He never used a different name or tried to use any type of anonymity. He didn't care if people knew him for his show or even liked him for it.

He was unapologetically himself at all times. You seen him around campus walking from one lecture to the next. Eddie would always wear an old band tee with the sleeves cut off, turning into a muscle tank. He liked showing off his tattoos. One arm fully covered in dark ink all the way down to the top of his hand. The other arm had a few tattoos scattered here and there. His hair was almost past his shoulders, and he had a small nose ring in his left nostril.

You'd always watch from afar as people would approach him to make small talk. The guys rushed over to invite him to their house parties and girls, giving out their personal phone numbers. It was no secret that Eddie knew how to please women. You heard the stories, and judging by his advice on his show, you believed them. He would even share his own personal hook up stories sometimes during the segment.

You and Eddie only ever had one class last semester together, but he never even made a single glance your way. You never approached him either, opting to just admire from distance and make your way to class. Every evening, you did, however, turn on the radio to listen to his show. Truthfully, you only listened to hear his voice. You had no idea what he was rambling on about most of the time, but you didn't care. His barritone voice was like warm honey to your ears. You found comfort in listening to him every night before bed. It was strange how the moment his show started, your stress of the day just melted away.

One day, you were going to call him for help about something you had never told anymore before. You already felt like you could trust him with this sort of thing. You were determined to speak to him even if you had to confess never having had an orgasm before. You don't know why you're putting so much trust into him, but you have.

You were desperate for his help and attention if you're going to be honest. You would lay in bed daydreaming about being in those other girls' shoes when he described what he did to them. How he would feel between your legs. Having his weight on top of you as you came undone beneath him.

Maybe you'll call in to his show tomorrow? What harm could it do? No one would even know it was you on the other line. You didn't have many friends on campus, so it's not like anyone would make the distinction so quickly. This would all be completely anonymous.

You just needed to speak with him. You never could work up the courage to talk to him in real life. You've always been too shy and easily intimidated. Eddie was a nice guy from what you could tell. There was nothing to be intimidated by at all. You would always get butterflies in your stomach when you saw him around. He made your stomach do flips when he flashed a smile, revealing the dimples in his cheeks. You could never work up the courage to ever approach him, so you just settle for your fantasies instead.

A few weeks went by, and you still haven't called. Not that you didn't try. You would call and hang up when you heard what you assumed was an assistant answer the phone. The moment you heard, "Thank you for calling in to the munson." You slammed the phone on the receiver. Not even letting the poor guy finish his sentence. This situation was driving you crazy you were convinced he could and would help with your problem. You assured yourself he was the only one who could because you didn't want anyone else to.

You mope around your shared home with your roommate, Monica. She could tell something was bothering you but never pressed on the issue. You two weren't the closest, but there was a mutual respect and love for one another. She'd try to get you to go out to parties with her but knew not to pressure you. The moment she heard a no, she left it at that, shrugging her shoulders and leaving you be.

"I can tell something is bugging you." she asked for the millionth time that week.

You sigh. "Im fine, I swear -- just little stressed." You put on a fake smile heading back to your room, leaving her to continue getting ready her date. Hoping she won't ask you again, you locked yourself away for the night. There was a light knock at your door, and you heard your roommates muffled voice from the other side. "I'll be back late. Get some sleep, okay?"

You ignore her as she leaves for the evening. Flopping yourself back against your pillows, you turned to look at your phone. Then, glance at your clock, it read 10:45 pm. It's almost time for his last segment of the night. Should you call? Would tonight be the night? You rolled over on your side, staring between the clock and your phone.

You sat up quickly, snatching the phone and dialing the numbers. Your heart already pumping with adrenaline when you hear the dial tone. A lump in your throat builds from nerves and excitement. Tonight was the night, and you were not going to chicken out this time. You hear the distinct voice on the other end of the call. "Thank you for calling into the munson experience. What are you calling in for."

You struggle to find your voice for a moment. The man on the other end is waiting for you to respond, and he almost hangs up, thinking it's another crank call. "I'm calling to speak to Eddie." You're voice barely even a whisper that you needed to repeat yourself three times. Eventually, they put you on hold while they got ready for his final segment. You exhale a deep breath you didn't even know you were holding in.

The sound of the music they put you on hold to cut off and your stomach drops. This was it you were finally going to do it. Not only were you going to speak to him, but you were also about to confess something that always made you feel embarrassed. You know it's nothing to be ashamed about truly. Judging by the countless women who called in with a similar problem looking for advice.

The music playing on the radio fades, and you hear him greet you."Hi, thank you for calling in. How can I be of assistance?"

You struggled to find your voice yet again.

"Hello? C'mon, don't be shy. This is a judgment free zone here." He leaned forward in his chair, getting closer to the microphone.

"Umm, hi, I was calling for something I think only you can help me with." You're clutching the phone in a tight grip against your ear. Your hands are shaking, and you hope no one can recognize you.

He leans back in his rolling chair. "And who am I speaking with."

"I....I'd rather not give you my name." You stammered. Your anxiety is building up, and you are so close to hanging up.

"That's okay. We'll keep this anonymous." He replied.

His brows raise for a moment as he listened to you talk. You sounded a little too familiar to him, and he has a sneaking suspension he might know who you are. He won't out you just in case he might be wrong and also respecting your wishes to remain anonymous.

You take a deep breath. "Well, you see, I've never...I don't know how to say this."

"You never what?" Have sex or something? " He asked, but his voice showed no emotions.

"No...I mean I'm not a virgin or anything like that. I just....I've had boyfriends, and anytime we did stuff, I never-- finished." You confessed to him.

His eyes widened for a moment, and he felt a pain of sadness in his heart. He could tell you were scared to reveal something so personal like that. Especially to him, a total stranger on a live radio show with hundreds of listeners. "You never had an orgasm before. Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

Pinching the bridge of your nose." Yes, that's what I'm telling you."

"Huh, okay, have you tried getting yourself off, at least?" He questioned, spinning around in his chair. His assistant, the other side of the room, listened Intently to the conversation.

"Well you see that's my problem anytime I tried to make myself cum I just kinda give up. I get so close and right when I'm there... I stop." You blurt out as you feel a weight being lifted from your shoulders.

He ponders for a moment before responding. "And how can I help you with this exactly? "

"Well, I was hoping you could guide me through it." Your face scrunching up as the words left your mouth. You knew this was a dumb idea from the start. He wasn't going to help you, and any moment now, you're waiting to hear him laugh at how ridiculous this is. There's a long, almost uncomfortable silence.

Eddie, on the other side of the line in his booth, is in utter disbelief. Sure, he definitely wants to guide you through that experience. What guy wouldn't? He just truly can not believe this was happening live on HIS show. His assistant kept mouthing no to him, knowing this could end badly. Eddie doesn't care he's doing it. He picks up his old bandana that's been discarded on the table and wipes sweat from his forehead. He nods back at the assistant, signaling hes going along with it whether people like it or not.

Picking up his yoyo, he props his feet up on the table in front of him. "You want me to help you cum?" Is that correct?"

"Yes, that's what I want. I need you to help me any way you can." You're sounding more desperate than intended.

"Okay, well, miss caller. I think im the perfect guy for the job." He smiles tossing the yoyo back and forth to the palm of his hand.

You smile as the anxiety you felt early slowly fades away.

"What are we using tonight, sweetheart? Fingers or toys?" He asked tossing his yoyo aside.

"Umm, I have a toy I can use." You closed your eyes tight, answering his question.

"Do you want me to talk dirty to you while we do this, sweetheart? " He got his voice lower in the mic, causing your breath to hitch.

'Uhh, yes... I'd like that a lot, actually." You bite your lower lip, anticipating what he's planning.

A grin plastered on his face while his mouth gets unbelievably closer to the mic. His voice felt so close to your ear. Your skin prickles with goosebumps. "Are you laying back, sweetheart?"

"....uhh,yes, I'm laying in bed." Your voice shakey on the other end.

"Good girl, get nice and comfortable for me."

You involuntarily squeeze your thighs together when you hear him calling you a "good girl." You turn off your bedside light and let the warm glow from your candles set the mood.

"What are you wearing?" He asked, licking his lips.

"A shirt and panties." You replied, looking down at yourself.

"Yeah? wanna take those panties off for me." He continued on making his voice low and deep. Similar to his DM voice, he would put on during his DnD segments. A shiver runs down your spine, and you can feel yourself getting wetter. There is a small wet patch already forming on the thin lace material of your panties.

You moved and carefully dragged the delicate lace down your legs, tossing them across your room. "They're off."

"That's a good girl." He praised.

You lay there patiently waiting for him to continue.

"Can you be my good girl and grab that little toy you told me about?" He asked you, feeling himself growing hard as well. He still can't believe he's doing this but doesn't want to stop. "Do you have it?"

Reaching over to your bedside table, you open the drawer, grabbing the small vibrator.

"I got it." You whisper into the phone.

He readjusts in his seat, "Turn it on for me."

You do as he says and turn the small vibrator onto the lowest setting. That ball of nerves in the pit of your stomach creeps back in. You want to do this, but the thought of hundreds of people listening to you right makes you second guess the decision.

"On second thought, maybe this was a bad idea." You admit trying to fight back tears as a lump in your throat forms.

"No, no hey its okay. What's wrong?" He asked, sounding concerned.

"I--i just remembered there are people listening." You stumble over your words as you try not to cry. Feeling a little ridiculous that you're even going through with this.

He frowns to himself. " Listen, it's just me, and you okay? If you don't want to do this, I understand you can always hang up."

"Yes, please." You spoke sofly.

"NO!--I want to do this." You blurt out. Once again, there is a long pause as he's thinking of the right things to say. Eddie doesn't want to make you feel pressured. He wants this to be an enjoyable moment. "Shall we continue?"

"That's my good girl." He cooed.

You whimper lowly into the phone, but it doesn't go unnoticeable. He already knows how to get you riled up, and he hasn't even gotten started yet. "You like that, don't you?"

"You like it when I call you a good girl?" He teased.

You gulped into the phone." Yeah."

His assistant in the next room is chewing on his nails out of pure terror. He's never seen this happen before on a live radio show, and he just knows what a shit storm it could cause. Eddie doesn't seem to mind at all his focus and attention were strictly on you.

"I want you grab that toy and put it to your clit. Can you do that for me?" He gets his voice low again. Your nipples harden under the thin material of your shirt. You bring the vibrator to your sensitive bud and gasp when you feel the vibrations.

"Okay, sweetheart, now think of me between those thighs. Think of my lips wrapped around your clit sucking so so softly. Imagine my face buried between your legs.." He's breathing heavier into the mic. His cock getting painfully hard in his jeans "Are you thinking about it?"

"Mmm, y--yes I'm...I'm imagining you there." You gasp and moan in the phone.

"I know you must be soaked right now. I wish I was there with you, spreading you open with my tongue. I bet you taste so fucking good" He kept going his voice getting more seductive in your ear.

"Is this your first time thinking of me like this?"

A sly grin creeps up on his face as he probably already knows the answer.

"I bet you have. I'm sure you've seen me around our campus. You've probably wondered what it would be like having my thick cock deep inside you. I would make you cum so fucking hard." He's getting really into it now, and his heart races with excitement.

You sink further into your bed as the vibrator continues working on your clit. Your hips bucking up as you writhe on your blanks, taking in every word he spoke. The phone keeps falling from your ear the more relaxed you become. Your mind in a fog while you listen to him say the dirtiest things. No one has ever spoken to you like this before, not even your ex-boyfriends. "Hey, you there?"

You gasp, "Yes, I'm here."

"Great. I need you to try and keep the phone to your ear as best you can for this part. Now with your other hand, use your fingers to fuck yourself but keep that vibrator where it is, got it?" He sounded much more serious this time.

You kept the vibrator right where it was at while you gently brought two fingers to your entrance. You slide them between your wet folds, getting them covered in your juices. You bite your lower lip hard as you teased around your dripping pussy. You hear him groan in the other end of the phone and wonder if he's enjoying this just as much as you are. You gently dip your two fingers inside you, getting them as deep as they possibly could go. "Ooh! Fuck." You moaned in his ear.

"Yeah, that's it pretend your fingers are my cock sweetheart." His let out a shakey breath.

"I bet your so fucking tight. Just thinking about your tight pussy taking my cock is making me so hard." He's getting himself riled up.

He rubbs the back of his neck, trying to stay focused. "I'd have to take my time with you first. Working you open until you're ready to take all of me."

"Is it big?" You ask him meekly, panting into the phone while your fingers stretch you open.

"Fuck baby--id have you feeling so full." He groaned in the mic, struggling to keep himself composed. Clenching his jaw tight as he opens and closes his fists.

Eddies tries his best to resist rubbing himself over his jeans as he listened to you. He has to remember this isn't about him right now it's all about you. His sole purpose of the night is making you cum and he's determined you will.

Your fingers continue pumping in and out at a vigorous pace. The vibrator placed carefully on your sore bud while you try your best not to drop the phone again. "I can hear your dripping pussy from here."

His words turn you on even more, making you grow wetter for him. Your body is covered in beads of sweat as your face grows hot. Your pussy making a loud schlick noise with every pump of your fingers.

"Feel good?" He asked you with amusement etched in his tone.

"Yes, it feels so good." You let out weak pathetic response. "Oh my god!" You squealed into the phone. Desperately trying to keep it balanced between your head and shoulder. You're a moaning, whimpering mess, and you don't care how loud you're being. You've never felt like this before it's terrifying and thrilling all at the same time.

He laughs, rubbing his chin letting out a quiet grunt before speaking again, "You sound so sexy when you make those little noises."

His listeners are having a hard time distinguishing if he's getting himself off in the process or if he's just playing it up for the moment. They're used to his crazy antics, but this was something entirely new. They were all shocked and impressed they were getting to witness this.

Your fingers pumping harder as you curve them upwards to rub against that sweet spot on your walls. Your thighs shake as you arch your back off the bed. You imagined they were his cock instead pounding in and out of your pussy like this. You feel a tightness in your core building up, and you know you're getting close.

"You're getting close, aren't you?" He whispered seductively.

"S'close." You whined.

"That's it be a good girl and cum." Cum all over my cock." He groaned.

The vibrator on your clit helping to bring you closer to your release. You spread your legs them even further apart. You're moaning louder into the phone. You can't even hear Eddie's voice anymore. Fucking yourself with your fingers is becoming difficult the closer you are to your release. Your walls clenching up tightly around them, and your pulse quickening.

You plunge them in and out of your pussy faster. That coil in your tummy is getting tighter. The feeling is all too familiar, and you start to get scared. What if you can't get past this part? You're doubting yourself again. You let out a deep breath and relax your mind.

Your legs shut involuntarily, and the vibrator falls from between your thighs. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your first ever orgasm rips through your body with so much intensity. Your vision goes black, and you stop breathing for a second. The phone lays abandoned next to your head, having dropped it long ago. You can hear Eddie's muffled voice calling out for you.

Tears begin pouring from the corners of your eyes. You couldn't help getting emotional after all of that. Not only was this your first time ever being able to have an orgasm, but the entirety of the situation was starting to set in. You felt amazing, and Eddie did such a great job helping you along the way. There were just some insecurities starting to creep in that you wanted to keep away. He's the only man that's ever made you feel like this, and you hope maybe one day you'd find the courage to meet him in person.

Everything went dead silent for a few minutes except for a few sniffles you hope no one else could hear. Your body glistening with sweat and your thighs sticky with your juices. You're still coming down from your high as your tears slowly fade away.

"You there, sweetheart? You heard him ask from a short distance.

With shakey hands, you pick up the phone to your ear. "Mmhmm...I'm still here." Your voice coming out small.

"You did so good for me." He praised you one last time. "It's okay. I'm right here He reassured.

"How was it?" He asked, hoping you had a good time.

"It was overwhelming but amazing." You smile weakly into the phone. You can't see him, but he's smiling back.

"Yea knew I'd be perfect for the job. Haven't had one complaint yet." His cockiness coming back almost immediately. Just as he was about to reach for a pack of cigarettes, he noticed he's way over his scheduled time. His eyes widened in a panic as he locked eyes with the clock above him.

His assistant busts through the door, signaling that the show is now officially over for the night. Eddie startles for a moment before jumping out of his chair and yanks the mic up to his mouth to close out the rest of the segment.

He slams his hands down on the table enthusiastically. "GOOD!..GREAT!-- and that's it for tonight's show everybody thank you all for listening. Thank you to our lovely caller, and if you guys wanna see my band play, come visit us at The Hideout every Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday nights. Especially you miss caller you can come see me anytime you like."

You listened to him give thanks to everyone when the song called "about a girl" from some band named Nirvana fades away his outro. You flopped back down on your bed. Your body is way too weak to even roll over your legs feeling like jello.

Laying there resisting the urge to fall asleep, wanting to savor this special moment as long as you could. You thought about what he said before hanging up. You were definitely wanted to see him soon. You had to after this night. You needed to finally meet him and maybe repay the favor.

[machveil]

CoD Headcanon: Fashion

let me info dump on how I think the CoD men would dress, pretty puh-lease? Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” MacTavish, John Price, Gary “Roach” Sanderson, Keegan Russ, and König

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:

actually wanted to make this post because of him, “Thank you, Kyle.”, we all say in unison

I oh so desperately think he dresses so casually it looks clean as fuck. he’s definitely the best dressed out of the 141, in my opinion. going for groceries? meeting up at a pub? Kyle looks great! also, bottom left photo? holding true to the board, I firmly believe Kyle has totes - different colors, some with logos, a couple well used and loved. totes and caps, Kyle has a nice collection

my fun little headcanon is that Kyle will match his outfits to whatever hat or tote he plans on using for the day. and he has a wardrobe to match - t-shirts, button ups, jumpers, turtlenecks, Kyle has variety. a lot of them are gifts from his family (who have his fashion sense down to a science). his aunts and uncles definitely pay the most attention to what Kyle’s wearing whenever they see him, they never miss when buying him new jeans or shoes

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

as fearsome and intimidating as Ghost is, draped in military gear and holsters, Simon prefers to be comfortable. a majority of his civvies are for his comfort, soft and warm jumpers that bag a little. he keeps it simple, his signature black clothes are really the only thing that carries over from service. that said, I think he’d look good in brown too. still a noticeably darker color compared to most, but it gives a nice contrast to his usual monotone look

it might seem counterintuitive to wear long sleeves when he’s had all this tattoo work done on his arms - fair enough - but I don’t think Simon necessarily cares to show them off. he has his fair share of t-shirts, but he really only wears them when it’s exceptionally warm out. that, or Simon has them on as an undershirt at the gym, hidden beneath his black hoodies. does the 141 poke fun at him for dressing nearly all black every time they see him? yes they do, does Simon care? no, he’s a sucker for a dark aesthetic

John “Soap” MacTavish:

Johnny dresses like he’s ready to go to the gym, but it’s why we love him. I swear, it could be freezing outside and Johnny would be wearing short, he’s definitely one of those people, “Hm? Nah, m’not cold.”, he’s actively trying to not let his teeth chatter. Johnny loves a good hoodie, especially if they have drawstrings - this man has an oral fixation, let him chew on those strings, damnit! oftentimes the drawstrings on his hoodies are fucked up and thready because he’ll absentmindedly nosh on them

I’m not afraid to say he’s the closest on this whole headcanon post to dressing like Adam Sandler - there’s definitely been times he wore the rattiest clothes ever outside and people mistook him for being homeless. the nicest thing he’ll consider wearing out is a t-shirt, zip-up hoodie, and jeans. I think Johnny’s a little nose blind to his own scent, sometimes he’ll think a hoodie is clean but he forgot he sweated his ass off in it two days ago at the gym. puts it on because… well, it just smells like him, surely it doesn’t reek

John Price:

I had such a hard time finding photos that matched my thoughts, but when I found them? oh, these matched. I’d like to call Price’s look “blue collar husband comes home after work” - do we get that vibe? simple man, he likes his blue jeans and a plain shirt. has a wide variety of nice, leather belts though, the only bit of his wardrobe he really splurges on. the simplest out of the 141, but he cleans up nicely with just a shirt and some jeans that hug his thighs just right

he’s a fan of t-shirts, the fact they show off his biceps is purely coincidence. he low-key dresses like a dad, but he rocks the look. he’s definitely the type to have vintage leather jackets, beat up, brown coats that are durable. they’ve seen better days, were new and shiny once, but John likes them a little weathered and worn. he’s not beating the bucket hat allegations

Gary “Roach” Sanderson:

I’d love to say ‘I don’t make the rules’, but I do. I’m putting my foot down and saying Gary dresses like this. he always wears a white t-shirt, is it the same one? does he have dozens? who knows! he’ll causally swap between pants and shorts, whichever is appropriate for the weather. button ups, he owns so many. never buttons them, just wears them open over his t-shirts. it’s casual, but the simplicity of it unironically makes his outfit look super clean

Gary will dress this way until the day he dies. it’s just how he dresses, no variation unless there’s an important event - holidays, an army shindig, I dunno, a wedding (if he could, he’d show up in his usual civvies). you would have to beg Gary to try a different style, he’s silently stubborn about it. he doesn’t make a fuss if you buy him a hoodie or sweater, just know he’ll throw a quiet strike by tucking it into the back of his closet

Keegan Russ:

biblically accurate Keegan Russ is a biker, what can I say. two words: leather jackets. he likes the aesthetic, owns a handful - hand-me-downs, thrifted, vintage, new. a majority of his wardrobe is black, I personally think his favorite color is blue, but he enjoys wearing black more. he likes wearing t-shirts, purposefully showing off his well-trained arms. he really only owns jeans, maybe a pair of nice slacks

you know what? gonna be honest, not much to add on, I just think Keegan is hot and would wear this haha. it’s nothing flashy, but if you’re into bikers it’s definitely eye catching. on another note, I think he’d paint his nails matte black. do I have any reasoning? no, I just think he would, or maybe just a clear coat. that, and he definitely wears silver rings. not all the time, but he does wear them on occasion

König:

if König isn’t in fatigues he still looks blatantly military. now, I didn’t include it in the board, but he has way too many pairs of khaki cargo pants. like an absurd amount - imagine a reasonable number of cargo pants and then add ten more pairs. back to the board, man cannot escape camouflage and green in general. whether it’s pants, shirts, or sweaters, König has it in some shade of green

otherwise, he actually enjoys itchy, scratchy sweaters. you know the kind that makes your skin red after wearing it a little too long? König eats that up, for whatever reason it feels nice to him. course, he does have standard, comfortable sweaters and hoodies. it’s a bit of a hassle to find clothes in his size though, sure they make them big, but König would appreciate if they were more fit to his build than overly baggy. lucky for him, his mama was a seamstress and taught him how to sew - he adjusts his clothing as he sees fit (he’ll still grumble about it though)

manifesting just one CoD man into being so I can play dress up with them🎀✨pretty please, I just wanna make him look so good - Soap and Roach might put up a fight though…

thanks for reading my behemoth of a post<3 hugs and kiss🌸✨

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

a little note: after writing about mlb player gojo, i couldn’t leave out nba star geto. it might be a bit long, but this was such a fun headcanon to write. i might even turn this into a fic someday… anyway, enjoy! oh, and do i even need to mention that the next headcanon will be about uefa champion nanami?

.ᐟ are you curious about geto's best friend and his future brother-in-law? (mlbplayer!gojo headcanons┊uefachampion!nanami headcanons)

.ᐟ Champions League Masterlist

nbastar!geto who doesn’t outwardly show arrogance like his best friend, Satoru Gojo (the MLB’s best player), but deep down, he knows he’s one of the best names in the basketball world. (For someone who was discovered at 16 and proclaimed to become the best shooter in the world, We can say that he’s handling it pretty well.)

nbastar!geto who has a heated rivalry with Stephen Curry. The only time he shows his arrogance is on the court, during their clashes, when he boldly claims to be better than Curry.

nbastar!geto who hates Stephen Curry considerably because his best friend Satoru Gojo happens to be a big fan of him.

nbastar!geto who, every time he dunks, grabs the rim with one hand, lifts his jersey with the other to reveal his abs, and sticks out his tongue to pose for the cameras. This move has been famously dubbed “Sugu’s Tongue.”

nbastar!geto who listens to Playboi Carti before every practice but secretly gets his true motivation from Cascada’s “Bad Boy.” Because Suguru Geto certainly is a bad boy.

nbastar!geto who sleeps with a different woman every night, trying to forget his ex-girlfriend that still haunts him. Though he knows it doesn’t truly work, good sex helps him escape his thoughts for a while.

nbastar!geto who realized he was in deep trouble when a tabloid reported him and his best friend Gojo hanging out with the same girl at a nightclub. What mattered to him wasn’t what his team or the public thought but the fact that his ex, who he still loved, would see this and remember him as a man-whore.

nbastar!geto who, during his first game after the scandal, saw banners saying, “We love you, bad boy!” held by young women who only wanted his body and money. Even though he secretly enjoyed being called a “bad boy,” he knew he needed to put an end to it or he’d never win his ex back.

nbastar!geto who, at the team’s celebratory dinner, spotted his ex with another man at the restaurant. Even though he wanted to punch that guy, he chose instead to drink until he couldn’t remember his own name.

nbastar!geto who felt a bit better when his other best friend, UEFA champion Kento Nanami, told him, “I’m coming to Friday’s game. With my sister.” The thought of finally seeing his close friend after all the recent chaos lifted his spirits a little.

nbastar!geto who, after his team’s 111–90 victory, went to his favorite bar with Nanami and his sister, who was wearing the jersey of the teammate he hated the most.

nbastar!geto who nearly lost his temper because you spent the entire night praising the teammate he hated the most, he kept quiet since you were one of his best friend’s sister. After all, he knew if he said anything, Nanami would definitely beat him up.

nbastar!geto who reluctantly introduced you to his teammate and helped you get his autograph after your persistent begging. When you offered to buy him dinner as a thank-you, he initially refused but couldn’t say no after you said, “I know a place with the best burgers!” But he warned that if he didn’t pay the bill, he’d eat your burger too.

nbastar!geto who thanked you a million times for introducing him to the best burger joint in the world and even started to change his opinion about you a little. Turns out, the burgers weren’t the only great thing—he laughed more that night than he had in ages, not since seeing his ex with someone else.

nbastar!geto who texted you when he got home, saying, “We need to try another burger joint next week,” and found himself eagerly awaiting the next week.

nbastar!geto who now saw you more often than even his best friend, Gojo, and had more fun with you than he ever did with anyone else. He didn’t see Gojo much anymore since his best friend was glued to his new girlfriend. Though he teased him about being “whipped,” he was happy to see Gojo so content.

nbastar!geto who, after realizing he no longer thought about his toxic ex, came to understand that he deserved a new, healthy, and happier relationship. With someone brand new.

nbastar!geto who invited you to the annual traditional Monopoly game night he hosted with Gojo every year.

nbastar!geto who hated how you laughed at all of Gojo’s jokes and got along with him so well. Didn’t Gojo already have a girlfriend? Why were you so close with him? Oh please, he definitely wasn’t overreacting…

nbastar!geto who, even though you both won fair and square, got into a big fight with Gojo because he accused you of cheating. When you joined the argument, even angrier than he was and defended him with all your might, he noticed he fell silent and just watched you. Realizing this, the woman who turned Gojo into a serious relationship man came up to him and said, "You should confess to her."

nbastar!geto who, at that moment, wanted everyone to leave so he could have you all to himself. Because he had no intention of sharing the woman he loved with anyone else.

nbastar!geto who, after everyone except you had left, answered a call from an unknown number, only to realize it was his ex—someone he no longer cared about. He immediately went to the kitchen.

nbastar!geto who after telling her to forget him and never bother him again, and blocking the number, he returned to the living room only to find the room empty, with you nowhere to be seen. Panicking, he immediately called you, but when he realized you had blocked him, he didn’t care what he was wearing and rushed to your apartment. However, when you refused to open the door, he experienced a heartbreak like he had never felt before.

nbastar!geto who tried to call you every day using new numbers but kept getting blocked. (Not to mention waiting like a stalker outside your apartment to catch a glimpse of you.)

nbastar!geto who, realizing he couldn’t reach you either by phone or in person, decided to play his last card. During a post-game interview, knowing for sure you were watching, he said, “I don’t care about questions regarding the score of the game right now, but I do have an answer to the question everyone’s been asking: why I changed my jersey number. This is my girl’s lucky number. I messed things up between us so badly. If she would just listen to my explanation, she’d understand it was all a misunderstanding. But because of her stubbornness, she refuses to meet with me. Baby, I know you’re watching this. I also know you don’t hate me. And let me tell you, your stubbornness drives me absolutely crazy. I love you so damn much. I want to spend every second of my life with you. You’re my lucky charm. Please… please come back to me.” As he poured his heart out, cameras flashed around him, lighting up his face. What he didn’t know was that the moment he confessed his love, you dropped everything and rushed to the arena.

nbastar!geto who, when you burst into the locker room, thanked the heavens no one was naked. And when you pressed your lips to his, he held you tight, swearing to never let go.

nbastar!boyfriend!geto who, the day after his public love confession, got knocked to the ground by a solid punch from your brother. The last time he’d taken a hit like that from Nanami was in high school.

nbastar!boyfriend!geto who was tired of Gojo’s endless texts about going on double dates. He wanted every moment he spent with you to be just for the two of you.

nbastar!boyfriend!geto who got insanely jealous at the NBA awards ceremony when you talked to his biggest rival, Stephen Curry. He definitely planned to deal with that later that night.

nbastar!boyfriend!geto who had left behind his “bad boy” phase and entered his “lover boy” phase—all thanks to the girl who introduced him to the best burger of his life.

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

geto art by @mossmaybe1 on X.

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

[86espresso]

bf!luke . . .

would get a little annoyed when you’re too slow to catch up with him while walking so he picks you up by the waist and half carries you

bends down to your height when you’re lecturing him so you’re assured that he’s taking you seriously

loves when you touch his hair. he loovvvess it so much. when you’re on the couch, talking to a friend and he’s leaning back on your legs while playing video games with his buddies, and your hand moves away for a second? he subconsciously reaches behind him to put it back

adores kissing the tip of your nose to watch it scrunch

hates when you’re stressed about anything so he tries his best to help you (he’s so sweet)

is very much team ‘baby’ when it comes to ‘baby’ vs. ‘babe’

gives more. he loves giving more than taking. giving you attention, kisses, advice, love, everything, even when you don’t ask for it

can’t believe you’re real and all his

knows how much your height difference affects you. he knows you love it more than you’ll admit and will do anything to fuel it. he’ll purposefully hug you so that your face is snug in his chest, either lifts you by the waist or gets it for you when encountering something out of your reach, his lips perfectly align with your forehead and he proves that multiple times a day when kissing you there. he loves that he’s taking control for you in that sense, he likes that he can protect you in a way

has to admit, all though he loves giving, receiving love from you feels like a drug. he’s addicted to your touch, kisses, and praise

is very attractive to you all around. his physique, face, arms, and hands? hot. his opinions, values, and morals? sexy. the way he backs out of a parking space, the way his jaw ticks, the way he uses hand gestures to talk, the way he fixes something on you that’s out of place, the way his knuckles whiten while lifting something, the veins in his neck, the way he says your name? fucknhghfh

holds your hand any chance he gets

responds to each and every one of your texts individually. reacts to every instagram reel you send him individually

naps with you and engulfs your body entirely, warming you up and making you feel secure, giving you the best sleep ever

isn’t afraid to show his obsession with you in front of his friends. they complain that he becomes dead weight when you’re not around

laughs when you crawl under his hoodie to get as close to him as possible and welcomes it, kissing the top of your head

listens intently to whatever you’re talking about, even if he has no clue what you’re saying

is the best at giving hugs 😇

teaches you how to drive because you were a late learner and he’s had enough of your complaints about your own procrastination. but he’s so patient and sweet with you it’s crazy

keeps a list in his notes app so that every time he hears you comment on a book or album, every time you eye a piece of jewelry or clothing, every time you indicate that you want something even slightly, he can refer to his observations and buy you something that you wanted

[nsfw]

loves sucking hickeys on you. his favorite places are your inner thighs and the top of your tits

is obsessed with mirror sex. watching your grip on whatever’s in front of you, your knitted eyebrows, your moans and whimpers and pleads, your face when you come, how he keeps one hand tightly on your hips

and uses the other to choke you. he loves how one of his hands can fit entirely around your neck and how dainty you feel in his arms when he’s fucking you. he loves how you get louder and needier when he’s squeezing your throat and putting the right amount of pressure to make your eyes roll

loves tying you up, watching you squirm helplessly while he does whatever he wants to your body. he kisses the marks on your wrist when he finally lets you touch him

isn’t afraid to show you how much he's enjoying the feeling of you. he grunts and whimpers and moans whenever you have your mouth on him to show you that you’re doing well

is a giver, as mentioned, and he loves nothing more than to wake you up with his head between your legs, curls brushing your inner thighs and nose bumping against your clit while his tongue and mouth work on eating you out oh

knows you have to adjust to his size every time so he uses the pad of his thumb to stimulate your clit and kisses you thoroughly to help you loosen up

inflicts pain more because he knows how insane you get over the fact that he can overpower you any time. doesn’t mean he doesn’t love the receiving end of it, though

manhandles you in a way you can only dream of <3

talks you through it when you’re fucking yourself on his long long, long, long fingers

lets you sit on his face after a long day

loves when you take control and ride him to get your relief. he loves that he’s always there to provide you that and he loves how take control in that situation, getting what you want

squishes your cheeks together when you’re getting bratty and looks down at you, frowning, to warn you that you’re in deep shit

💌 : my boy for your saturday morning/evening/night ☺️

[paarksunghoon]

omg imagine heeseung and reader shopping tgt in a mall when suddenly reader decided to hop into victorias secret?? heeseung gets so horny n needy in the changing rooms whenever reader tried on lingeries infront of him so he just fucks her in the changing rooms 💗

this made me go crazy….wrote this last night but forgot to hit publish so here we are

***

Heeseung doesn’t understands why guys don’t like stepping into lingerie shops. His friends always lament about going into a store that’s frilly and too girly, but Heeseung can’t see their point of view. Going to Victoria’s Secret is less of an embarrassment and more of a fantasy to him because every time you hold up a piece of fabric and ask for his opinion, he imagines you wearing it while he’s got you in his bedroom in all kinds of positions.

“Babe?” You call out for him and wave the set in front of his face. “What about this green one? Do you think it would look good on me?”

Heeseung licks his lips. “Yeah, I think so. You should try it on just to make sure.” You light up.

“Good idea! Let me find the dressing rooms.”

He follows behind you and notes the people in the store. There are a few shoppers and a small handful of employees around. He watches you disappear into one of the fitting rooms and hears the door lock. He lets his mind wander as you change.

“Heeseung, you can come in now.”

Your boyfriend stands up and feels his dick straining in his pants at the mere thought of you but the way you look in the lacy fabric makes his mouth drool. He locks the door as you look at yourself in the mirror.

“What do you think? It’s a bit more skimpy than I’m used to…”

“You look sexy.”

You pout. “You always say that.”

Heeseung brings his hands to your hips and toys with the band of the panties, rubbing the pads of his finger against the fabric. “You always look sexy but fuck.” He kisses your shoulder and slides his index finger below the band. “This set barely covers your pussy or your tits.”

He notes the way you look at him through the mirror as if to contemplate. Heeseung’s right, though. The panties don’t cover much. One wrong move and your folds will slip out. He’s right about the bra, too. It offers almost no support and the cups are designed to be so small that the rest of your breasts start to spill out, even when you’re standing still.

Heeseung moves his hand to cup them and brushes his thumbs over your nipples. “I could eat you up.”

“So I should get it?” He nods and keeps flicking your nipples when his lips touch your neck.

“Put it on my card.” Heeseung laughs against your neck when you gasp after he’s slotted his hardened dick against your asscheeks.

“Not in here!” You scold him in a whisper-yell and push his hands off of your breasts. You watch him pout through the mirror and wriggle to free yourself from him but your boyfriend’s arms wrap around you to keep you steady while he grinds himself against you.

“Why not? Thought you loved public sex.”

Your cheeks warm up. “This is different.”

“Yeah? How so?”

“I don’t want to get these dirty before I pay!”

Heeseung chuckles and skips his hand down your panties as he crouches down to his knees. “When I pay. I don’t mind if the see a little wet patch.”

“W-Well I do,” you stutter.

“Mm, okay. In that case, I think we should take these off so you don’t ruin them, don’t you think?”

You watch him slide the green panties down your legs and stand on your toes when he forces your asscheeks apart after you’ve stepped out of them. He tosses it on the provided bench and admires your convulsing hole. Heeseung leans forward and gives you a lick.

Your hand catches the wall as your back arches out. Your chest pushes against the surface to balance yourself out as his big hands stretches your ass apart.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he mutters when he brings his thumb to stroke your folds. “Wish I could’ve pulled them to the side instead of take them off.”

You turn around to look down at him, “After we pay.”

He looks up at you. “Right, right. We should take off this bra too, right? So you don’t ruin it?” Heeseung stands up right and pulls your body back to him to unclip it until it falls to the floor. “There. Problem solved.”

Heeseung pulls his dick out, listening to the sounds of people walking just outside. He’s sure that if anybody pays attention to the shadows underneath the open gap from the door, they’d see two shadows. Not that he minds.

“Can’t wait.” His voice is clipped. He pushes your back until you’re gripping the clothing rack for stability as he pushes inside of you. “Need you.”