#whats the point of clinging on like this?
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maxriss · 2 days ago
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❀ WE LISTEN AND WE DON'T JUDGE — LN4
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Lando Norris x Reader / est. relationship / library
Syn. Doing the TikTok challenge with your boyfriend. We listen and we don’t judge . . . except we do ;)
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So Lando and I decided to hop on the TikTok trend, filming ourselves all cosy in bed — him in a hoodie, arm around me, and me holding the phone while trying not to crack up.
I hit play and turn to look at Lando. He was examining me while biting down on his laugh a devilish glint in his eyes.
“We listen and we don’t judge.” We say in unison.
“Okay I’ll go first,” I began.
“I once tried on your race suit when you weren’t home.”
“Wait what?” he huffed. “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?” He hollered, half laughing. He was mad but the dusky pink in his cheeks gave it away.
I held on to his shoulder while trying not to choke on my breath with the way I was giggling at his comical expression.
“Did it fit though?” He asked giggling at the thought of it. “No Lan, your arms are too big,” I replied. I cupped his jaw unable to keep myself from chuckling. “Uh huh, fair.”
“Okay my turn,” Lando said.
“We listen and we don’t judge.”
“I keep screenshots of your texts when you say nice things about me.”
I was rendered speechless. My jaw hung open, warmth gushing to my cheeks with the biggest smile on my face. Lando was already out of frame as he hid his head, quivering down in my lap holding my knees for dear life. His neck was entirely a shade of red.
“Lando…”
“No shut up, don’t make a big deal.”
“But baby that’s so CUTE!” I called out now rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s so sweet. I love you.”
“I love you too.” He murmured now sitting up. “Okay okay next question!”
“We listen and we don’t judge.”
“I keep one of your hoodies in my cars when I miss you during race weeks.”
Now it was Lando’s turn to be speechless. He was thawing into a puddle. Immediately switches to a soft tone.
You do?” eyes crinkling into crescents at the idea of me nuzzling into his hoodie during his absence.
Instantly bombards me with a hug mumbling I love you into my neck — now both of us entirely out of frame.
After prying him off, now Lando entirely clinging to me and a love-struck smile on his face, we proceeded with the challenge.
“I once fake slept so you’d keep playing with my hair.”
He said spinning to me with a proud smile. I huffed at his confession although it made my heart skip a thousand beats.
“YOU LIAR!”
“What?? You were doing it so nicely. Scratching my scalp and shit.”
“So you mean I was sitting there for 20 min—”
“Yes and it felt great.”
I heave a pillow toward him which he successfully swerves with goofy grins on our faces.
“Okay last one,” I said. “We listen and we don’t judge.”
I hang back a bit, shyness overshadowing my demeanour. I clear my throat and barely veer away from Lando.
“Um, I kinda love when you’re all sweaty after a race. It’s disgusting, but it’s also unfairly attractive.”
My voice came out quieter than I aimed at as I looked at Lando. His mouth was barely open as he poked his tongue into his cheek. A cunning snicker appeared on his face.
“Uh-huh,” he plodded closer. “You’re down bad.”
I rolled my eyes at his teasing. Pressing him back by his chest. His body was warm under my fingers.
“Whatever, your turn”
“Alright then, we listen and we don’t judge.”
His demeanour switched to a more assured one this time around. He leaned nearer to me practically only whispering to me.
“I purposely wear gray sweatpants around you because I know you stare.”
My breath clamped in my throat under the gaze he ensnared me in. Before I could say anything he went on.
“I like it when you wake me up like THAT in the morning.”
“Lando STOP,” I whimper into my palms blanketing my face.
“Yeah? Then why are you hiding?” He picked on me. I could hear him sneering at this point.
“I’d give up a podium just to see you smile when you need it.” He declared ultimately.
My groans were hushed as I peeked at him from before my fingers. “You can’t say that.”
He simply chortled and whispered, “Come here, love.” Arms lurking around my waist as the video cut off.
[COMMENTS]
ln4fwdc: ‘I like when you wake me up like that in the morning’ SIR THIS IS A WENDY’S DRIVE-THRU.
user17371818: THE WAY HE LEANS IN AND LOWERS HIS VOICE. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS INFORMATION???
op81girlie: McLaren admin seeing this: ‘we don’t get paid enough for this job.’
maxriss: THE WAY HE SAID THE LAST ONE I JUST KNOW HE MEANS IT.
landoscar481: I just know this man is a PROBLEM behind closed doors.
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reblog and follow <3 all rights reserved ©maxriss please do not copy, save, or translate my stories. this is no place for hate and violence, kindly maintain love and peace.
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samkerrworshipper · 13 hours ago
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so win.
alexia putellas x reader
no fuel quite like my procrastination to not do other things i need to do. this is porn without plot, i’m not ashamed of it. it’s also unedited and has been worked on after a day of clinicals so if there are spelling mistakes and grammar mistakes i apologise. i wrote this in like 3 hours lol. i’m also a mess at the moment and actually avoiding my whole life so this is my outlet. anyways i wrote smut! for the first time in forever ;) also for the sake of this let’s ignore timezones bcus i couldn’t rewrite the start of this to make it work lol.
warnings: smut, 18+ viewer discretion advised
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You’re not with Alexia when the campaign drops. You’re not even watching the game, you’ve never been quite able to wrap your head around the nfl thing or get into like your girlfriend, the rules of rugby have been so ingrained in your mind from childhood that seeing men run around in massive pads just gives you an ick.
You’re not even the person who sees it first, you’re sitting in a cafe trying to get some studying done because it’s impossible to do at home when your clingy girlfriend insists on sitting, holding, grabbing or clinging onto any part of your body when she’s bored. It’s like trying to keep a five year old entertained, and it always ends up with you sacrificing whatever coursework you have and being endlessly stressed when you fall behind. You simply leave studying for when Alexia is out of the house or when you have time to study elsewhere.
You’re heavily engrossed in rewatching a lecture you’d missed the previous week due to training when your phone lights up. It’s no exaggeration, your phone screen goes from being blank and dark to suddenly notification after notification pouring in. Different groupchats, instagram tags, text messages. There’s another ten minutes left on your study clock before you’re technically allowed to take a break but with every thing that pops up your only become more curious. Curious enough that you look down at your clock with complete disregard and reach for your phone. It’s sitting next to your laptop, it’s supposed to be upside down to minimise distraction but when you were watching the lecture it stopped you from being able to check the time and you liked to watch as the time ticked by.
You click onto you groupchat first, a mixture of Barca girls, mostly the older ones. Most importantly Mapi, who has bombarded the groupchat in a matter of seconds, with image after image of your girlfriend.
You click onto them harmlessly, Alexia has a series of campaigns that you’re aware of that are coming out in the next few months. As you’re waiting for the images to load you try and remember if she’d told you about any coming up, there was something for Cupra at the end of february and a big campaign for more than eleven in march, and a few smaller things amongst it but nothing you could think of that was due to release today, or in the next week.
When the first image loads, you’re eyes almost bug out. Your throat closes, the oxygen leaves your lungs and you feel almost dizzy. You have to blink multiple times to clarify that what you’re looking at is real, it’s not just a hallucination of some wet dream you’ve had, it’s a real photo that exists in front of you. As you flick through them, you only feel more unwell, and a little bit wet… or a lot.
The first one is just Alexia’s face, staring straight down the lense. The way she’s been captured is almost animalistic, pink sports bra, big earrings, her hair in the wet look. It’s her eyes though, pointed straight on, the eye fuck look, like she’s staring into your soul the same way she does before she’s about to rail you, except it’s all magically been captured in one photo. You want to look at it forever, you’re scared you’ve actually lost the ability to use your extremities and all the oxygen has stopped circulating inside your body from the mix of shock and awe.
With as much power you have you flick to the next photo, and if you were already feeling unwell this feeling is close to death.
Alexia, looking over her shoulder, flexing.
All of her tattoos are on show, every single muscle is accentuated and you almost drool on your phone as you study all of the different parts of the picture. Alexia’s skin is literally glowing, effervescently in a way you cannot even begin to describe. You know from thousands of hours of tracing the skin of your girlfriends back just how strong she is, yet with everything emphasised more in the photo you feel like no matter how many hours you’ve spent staring this is adding a whole new perspective. Her arms, her facial expressions, the illusion of her hair sticking to her skin, the pink contrast against her skin.
You have to scroll, because if you don’t you won’t be responsible for the actions you engage in whilst in a very public space.
The following few pictures are of other athletes, basketball players, gymnasts, runners, other football players. For the most part, americans, yet your girlfriend in all her glory is a part of it.
You get through quite a few photos before it comes to the video, you were already gobsmacked, but the video seals it for you.
Alexia looks flawless, absolutely ethereal in every way. It actually feels like you are living in one of your fantasies or dreams but no this is very much real life and you are actually dating the person on your screen.
There’s no chance you’re going to get any work done, you can’t even get a coherent thought that doesn’t involve Alexia. Alexia’s abs, Alexia’s back, Alexia’s eyes, Alexia’s face, Alexia. You pack up your books and laptop with one thought on your mind, seeing your girlfriend.
Mapi’s private messages to you are filthy, message after message of her reminding your of what is now out in the world and about how now even more people are going to be even more obsessed with her.
You drive home over the speed limit and slightly recklessly, it’s not a long drive from your favourite study spot to you and Alexia’s shared house, but it feels like it drags on for forever. Your knuckles are white from your tight grip on the steering wheel and your unoccupied foot is bounding furiously against your floormat. You run a couple of close yellows, which are mostly red and have a complete disregard for giving way to anybody. You have an end goal, and that goal is to get home before you combust from all of the built up energy and tension in your body from the reruns of the pictures you’d seen.
You’re not even sure if you put the car in park when you swing into the driveway, you practically sprint towards the door, leaving Alexia’s prized cupra to fend for itself. Your hand is so sweaty you struggle with the door knob for a few seconds, your brain is frantic and you struggle and jiggle with it until it finally turns and there is nothing between you and finding exactly what you’re looking for.
Alexia isn’t in the front room, not that she normally would be. You pace your way through the hallway, past your bedroom which seems unoccupied and into the living room.
Alexia.
Alexia is sitting, on your couch, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, though it’s hard to appreciate it with the shit eating grin on her face as she tries to make herself look comfortable and like she’s actually lounging on your couch. Her body is tense, it gives away her whole bravado, you don’t really care though.
“You’re home early? You said you wouldn’t be back till lunch time, no?”
There is no acknowledging of her comment, you take your jacket off and lay it on the edge of the couch before unceremoniously pouncing on your girlfriend.
“I cannot believe you.”
Alexia makes it easy enough for you to straddle her lap, opening up her legs and making plenty of room for you.
You stare into her eyes and all you can picture is the photo of her, the look on her face isn’t dissimilar to the one captured, but it’s not quite the same.
“The campaign? Did I not mention it?”
You roll your eyes before leaning down, alexia goes with ease, her mouth opening up for you as soon as your lips meet hers. It’s all teeth and tongue, not quite a fight for dominance, just pure arousal.
“You’re a brat, and really fucking sexy.”
Alexia smirks against your lips, and then she bites back, her tongue fighting against yours.
“So you like it?”
You move your lips to Alexia’s neck, licking a line down her neck and kissing up it before biting down, foregoing any kind of gentle.
“Do I like my girlfriend looking extremely fuckable on the internet? Jury’s still out on that one.”
Alexia chuckles, leaning her head back to give you full access to her neck.
“Mm, muy fuckable.”
The laugh that leaves her mouth is enough fuel for you to nip her again, sucking a mark right above her collar bone, not directly visible but enough to make her sweat about keeping it hidden at training tomorrow.
“I’m going to need a private show in that outfit at some stage.”
You move back up to Alexia’s mouth, this time the make out is less frantic, you’ve gotten out some of your residual jitters.
“That can always be arranged.”
You tug at the hem of Alexia’s sleep shirt that she still hasn’t gotten out of yet.
“Bed first, fashion show after.”
In the swiftest motion possible Alexia is bringing herself up onto her feet, and lifting you with her. You wrap your legs around her torso, never breaking the makeout.
She makes it to your bedroom at a record speed, dumping you onto the mattress before climbing back on top of you, her shirt being thrown haphazardly into the air somewhere as she lowers herself down. There’s no bra to fight with and you reach for her breasts before her lips are back on you, grabbing and rolling at her nipples until she gets the message and has climbed fully onto the mattress on top of you.
Alexia stays on top of you, making out for a while, until she get’s bored with her hands and decides that you need to mirror her level of undressed. She flips you on top with so much ease that it doesn’t even surprise you, the photos on the internet showed Alexia’s muscles, but they didn’t show just how strong your girlfriend truly was.
Alexia didn’t mess around with your tank top and bra, tugging them off with the same kind of urgency that you’d been in to get back to the house earlier. As soon as the clothes are gone you’re flipped back onto the mattress, Alexia retaking her position. Her hands go straight to your tits, pinching and pulling in a way that makes your back nearly arch off the bed. You’re already aroused from your session in the coffee shop, but this is only adding fuel to the fire.
It takes everything in you not to moan immediately, you clench your jaw and bite your lip as Alexia elicits all different kinds of sensations.
‘Sé ruidoso bebita.”
As per usual, not much gets past Alexia, you try to relax just slightly, let yourself feel it all completely.
“How wet are you going to be when I finally touch your pussy, hm? How wet did my photos get you? All hot and bothered in the coffee shop like a little slut.”
There is no point in shaking your head, you just smirk, you’re proud of it, you’re proud that you get to come home to this and everyone else just has to enjoy Alexia from a far.
“Show me, reach into your panties and show me how wet you are and maybe I’ll think about touching you.”
You hesitate for a second, but then Alexia pinches on of your nipples and rolls your other breast in her hand and your hand naturally moves downwards, your hips canting up as you do so.
Your fingertips are glistening and dripping as you bring them out of your shorts, Alexia doesn’t hesitate to pull them straight into her mouth, sucking all of your arousal straight off.
“Alexia, please.”
Alexia licks her lips in a way that makes you so certain that she’s desperate for more, she’s just as turned on about this as you are.
“Pants off.”
As soon as the words leave her mouth your reaching for them hem of your pants and kicking them off, your panties go with them.
Alexia doesn’t wait, she moves her body downwards until her mouth is hovering right above you.
She looks up at you, hesitates for a second, it’s the exact same face as the photo, beautifully feral.
She doesn’t hold back whatsoever, her mouth goes straight to your clit and you’re already aroused, already dripping everywhere but you reach another level. Your moans are breathy and free falling.
“Fuck baby, feels so good.”
You’re a stuttering mess and far too aroused to try and pretend like you aren’t already close.
Alexia keeps a steady pace, licking and sucking at your clit and occasionally living long strips up from your pussy. It feels so good, earth shattering good.
“Ale, close.”
You expect her to pull back a little bit, normally she likes to prolong your pleasure just a little bit, the wait is worth the reward. But it seems like the both of you are too aroused to ignore the urgency of the situation. Alexia doubles down, her arms pushing your thighs further apart and reaching up behind you to grab at your ass whilst she enjoys having more access.
When you realise she isn’t going to let up you unclench your hands from the sheets and push them into Alexia’s hair, grabbing at the root and pushing her exactly where you want, grinding down against her chin.
It doesn’t take long at all, alread close as it was. Then Alexia grazes her teeth over your clit and doubles down and you see stars. Your body goes with you, shaking and tensing before relaxing as your enjoy the aftershocks. Alexia takes the opportunity, pushing two fingers into you and setting a brutal pace.
“Alexia, need a second.”
Alexia doesn’t stop, if anything she only goes harder, her fingers searching for your g-spot and finding it with ease. The overstimulation makes your stomach tight and yoru clit ache, in the best way.
“Una mas.”
You shake your head, even though it’s blatantly clear you’re going to give her another one, there isn’t really a world where you wouldn’t, not when Alexia makes it so easy to feel so good.
“You can give me one more bebita.”
Alexia’s palm grinds against your clit gloriously, it’s a bit too much for a few seconds but it fades as the pleasure overtakes.
Alexia’s favourite activity is amking you fall apart, watching you experience a kind of pleasure that is unmatchable, all at her own hands. Alexia adds a third finger, knowing that it’ll give you what you need.
It’s more than enough for what you need to reach a release. This time the initial orgasm lasts longer, you tense for a few seconds before you go boneless on the mattress. You melt into the sheets, your head lulling against the pillow as you breathe your way through.
Once you’ve stopped clenching against Alexia she pulls her fingers out, licking up every part of your orgasm, not leaving a single drop behind.
She crawls her way up to you, lying down on her side next to you, looking at the blissed out expression on your face.
Your eyes open lazily, a big smile on your face.
“You’re unreal, literally, how did I get this lucky?”
Alexia leans in, it would be rude to not kiss your lips at every possible chance, especially when your smiling at her like that.
“The real question is how I got this lucky.”
It the same kind of phrase that would elicit vomiting noises from your teammates in the locker room, and yet you love it all the same.
The kiss is soft, everything you need in the moment. It gives you enough confidence to reach your hands down inbetween the two of you, pressing down against Alexia’s front with one intention.
Alexia gasps into your mouth, and it’s enough guidance for you.
You walk your fingers up to the waistband of her pyjama shorts that she still hasn’t changed out of at nearly midday. You trail them down on the inside, unsurprised at her lack of underwear.
Alexia’s wet, the cotton of her shorts sticking to the insides of her thighs.
You part her folds, enjoying the way she moans and gasps into your mouth as you map your way through a different part of her body.
When your fingers find her clit, it’s easy to tell just how turned on she is.
You set a pace of fast tight circles, you’re well educated on Alexia’s body and when she’s this worked up this is the best way to get her to an orgasm.
You know she’s getting closer when her kisses get sloppier and desperate, her lips hang onto yours like they’re becoming an extension of her, like she’s scared that if you separate it’ll take part of her with her.
She shakes and grinds into you, searching for that last bit of stimulation she needs. When she infds it she groans into your mouth, her hips jerking one final time before they go weak, her body goes still for a few seconds. You slow down but don’t come to a full stop, pulling every last bit of her orgasm out for her until she’s tugging your hand out of her shorts.
Alexia presses some soft kisses to your lips before pulling you into her with one arm.
“If that’s what I get every time I take some nice pictures, maybe I should do it a bit more. See if I can get a job with Victoria’s secret or a swimsuit company.”
Alexia doesn’t need to see the look on your face to know exactly how all of your features would clenhc up and your eyes would roll.
“If you do that there will be a whole lot less sex for you and a whole lot more sessions with my vibrator for me. You’re cute, but I’d like to keep some of it for me.”
Alexia snorts, before tugging you in tighter.
“The fans would like it so much though, maybe I should just post some of the photos from the beach over the summer in Ibiza, the topless ones were cute.”
You elbow Alexia straight in the gut.
“How about you model the nike outfits for me first, and then we can decide how far you can take your new found modelling career.”
You’re still in slight disbelief that Alexia managed to keep something this big from you. She was obviously always having ongoing things going with nike, but something this big, and this special was hard to keep underwraps.
“I looked that good, huh?”
You roll even further into Alexia, pressing your whole body into hers.
“Muy bueno. New additions to the wank bank right there.”
You snort when you look over your shoulder and see the confusion on Alexia’s face, her english is good, but her english slang lacks in certain departments.
“Wank bank?”
You snort again, the innocence behind her voice makes it so much better.
“Just my folder for when I’m very alone on camp, and need some extra assistance.”
Alexia’s brain clicks, she laughs, and then the meaning must click in because she blushes beet red.
You stand up, already searching for your forgotten articles of clothing.
“Wait a minute, wank bank? What else is in this folder?”
You’re already tugging your pants on and trying to find your tank top which had apparently vanished into thin air.
“Hopefully whatever new photos I can find in the album of spares that was left over from this shoot.”
Before you can hear what else Alexia says you’re racing off in search of her laptop.
“Wait, I need to see this folder. Bebita, I need my own folder. WHAT IS IN THIS FOLDER.”
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anyways have a wonderful day/night! i love you! somebody out there loves you! you are blessed to have this day and every other one to come <3
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minorlyatfault · 2 days ago
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jason todd didn't like feeling weak. not physically, not emotionally, not in any way. he was red hood, the second robin, the guy who crawled his way out of the grave, the guy who made criminals run the second they saw him. he wasn't fragile.
at least, that's what he told himself.
but you knew better.
you saw the way his hands shook sometimes, how he clenched his jaw so tight it looked like it hurt. how he acted like he was fine, always fine, even when he was bleeding right in front of you.
like tonight.
he got hit▰bullet to the side, not deep enough to be life threatening, but deep enough that he couldn't just ignore it. he tried to, though.
"i don’t need help," he muttered, struggling to take off his jacket without wincing.
"jason, you’re literally bleeding on my floor."
"i’ve had worse."
"that’s not the point." you crossed your arms. "sit down. let me fix it."
he sighed like you were asking him to do something absurd, but he sat. that alone told you everything.
you came back, first aid kit in hand & went to work on the wound while he sat there, way too tense.
“you don't have to do this," he muttered.
"i know."
his jaw tightened, but he didn't move away. you stitched him up carefully, your fingers brushing against his skin, & he hardly moved.
"you're not a burden, you know," you said after a minute.
he scoffed. "never said i was."
"you don't have to. i see it every time you push me away." you paused, looking up at him. "you don't have to be strong all the time, jason."
his eyes flickered. something in him hesitated, but he didn't let it break through.
"i hate this," he muttered.
"hate what?"
"feeling like this." he motioned at himself, at the bandages, at you sitting next to him. "weak."
you frowned. "jason, you're not weak."
"doesn't feel like it."
your chest felt tight. you reached for his hand, & he let you, just like he always did. but this time, it's different. that it's not just jason who you're holding, but the red hood as well.
"being strong doesn't mean doing everything alone," you said quietly. "sometimes it means letting people help."
he swallowed, his fingers twitching around yours. you’d held hands before, curled up on the couch, laced fingers absentmindedly.
but this was different. this was him holding on like he needed to.
& then, barely above a whisper, he said, "i don’t wanna do this alone."
you squeezed his hand. "you don’t have to."
he let out a shaky breath, nodded, & for the first time, he didn't just let you help▰he let himself believe he needed it. he let himself accept the fact that he indeed, needs it.
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you finally got him into bed, though he agrued about not being tired. but the second his head hit the pillow, you could tell▰he was exhausted.
yet, he didn't sleep.
he just laid there, staring at the ceiling, breathing too controlled, too careful.
"you're thinking too much," you whispered, running your fingers through his hair.
he huffed. "i don't think that's possible."
you smiled. "wanna bet?"
he rolled onto his side, looking at you, with an unreadable expression. "what if i wake up in a panic again?"
"then i'll be here."
his brows furrowed. "you shouldn't have to deal with that."
"jason." you stroked your thumb over his cheek, soft(is what you thought when your hand came in contact with his soft cheek, & is what jason thought when his cheek came in contact with your soft hand.)
"loving you doesn't mean only staying for the easy parts. i want to be here. always."
he breathed slowly, like he was struggling to let himself believe you. maybe it would take time. but right now, he was here, letting you hold him, & that was enough.
he brought you closer still, his hand lying flat upon your waist, fingers just tight enough on the shirt to cling. "you're too good for me," he murmured against your skin.
"& you're an idiot," you whisper back.
a soft laugh rolled from him & lay warm across your collarbone. he drew a breath at last, uncoiling finally, his fingers tracing slow patterns on your back.
"thanks," he mutters after a while.
"for what?"
"for this. for staying."
you pressed a kiss to his forehead, holding him a little tighter. "like i said: always."
& this time, he let himself believe it.
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© minorlyatfault, 2025
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solxamber · 3 days ago
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For the event, could I request Leona, romantic, with "Waiting on the Sun" by Citizen Soldier? First time listening to this after discovering Twisted had me wailing in the car haha
i was crying at the club when i heard it... it suits leona so well oh my god
Waiting on the Sun || Leona Kingscholar
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𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭
𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: Waiting on the Sun by Citizen Soldier
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1010
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Mild Hurt/Comfort, Realization of feelings
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Leona has never been one for dreams.
Dreams are a fool’s game, a glimmer of hope strung out in front of desperate people, forcing them to chase something they’ll never catch. He learned early on that hope was nothing but a pretty lie wrapped in a silver ribbon, and in the end, the ribbon always frayed.
The world never made space for second sons, and the sun never rose for men like him.
He should have stopped waiting for it years ago.
But somehow, you're still here—sitting beside him in the shade of a tree, legs stretched out, your presence quiet yet steady. You don’t say anything, and he doesn’t need you to. That’s what he likes about you. You don’t fill the silence with empty words or meaningless comfort. You don’t try to fix him, like so many others before you.
You just exist beside him and that’s enough.
Leona doesn’t remember when you became his safe place.
At some point, your presence became a constant, as natural as the way he stretches out on the grass for an afternoon nap or the way the sun burns through the endless sky. You were just there—like an inevitable force of nature.
And damn if he doesn’t resent how much he needs it.
Because he does need it. He needs you in ways he’ll never admit aloud, in ways that make his stomach twist and his throat tighten. You make it so easy to believe, even when he’s spent a lifetime telling himself not to.
Somewhere along the way, you learned him too well. You can tell when his bitterness sharpens, when his patience wears thin, when he’s barely holding onto the threads of his temper. You don’t try to drag him into the light, but you don’t let him drown in the dark, either.
Instead, you just sit with him.
Like now.
Leona exhales, tipping his head back against the rough bark of the tree. The weight of the past few days lingers in his bones, making him feel heavier than usual. The exhaustion never fully leaves—it clings to him like a second skin.
“I know what you’re thinking.” Your voice is soft, cutting through the stillness.
Leona cracks an eye open. “Doubt it.”
You huff, barely phased by his dry remark. “You think nothing’s ever going to change. That you’re stuck in a cycle you can’t break. That waiting for things to get better is pointless.”
He stiffens, the words settling deep in his chest like stones. “You got all that just from lookin’ at me?”
“I got all that from knowing you.”
That shouldn’t make his heart stutter the way it does.
He doesn’t say anything, just turns his gaze back to the horizon. It stretches on endlessly, a vast expanse of golden plains and open sky. The view should be freeing. Instead, it feels like a cage with invisible walls.
A future that will never belong to him.
A throne that will never be his.
A world that will never see him as anything more than the spare.
The sun has never risen for men like him.
“I know what you’re going to say next,” he mutters. “That I should ‘keep trying.’ That things’ll ‘work out’ eventually. That if I just—”
“I’m not going to say that.”
He stops.
You tilt your head, a gentle smile pulling at your lips. “I’m not here to tell you to change. I’m not here to tell you things will magically get better. I just…” Your fingers brush over the back of his hand, tentative and warm. “I just want you to know that you don’t have to shoulder it alone.”
His breath catches.
No one has ever said that to him before.
No one has ever meant it before.
Leona has spent his whole life carrying the weight of his own bitterness, his own resentment, his own failures. No one ever told him he could set it down. No one ever offered to help him hold it.
No one but you.
His fingers twitch under yours.
Leona has never been one for dreams.
But when he looks at you, he wonders if maybe, he’s been waiting on the wrong thing all this time.
He doesn’t realize he’s in love with you until much later.
Maybe it’s the way you laugh, soft and easy, like the world has never once hurt you. Maybe it’s the way you look at him—like he’s not a disappointment, not a failure, not a second son who never mattered. Maybe it’s the way you never push him to be anything other than who he is.
Maybe it’s everything.
But when he finally does realize, it hits him like a landslide.
And suddenly, he’s terrified.
Because what if he loses this?
What if he loses you?
Leona doesn’t pray, but he does now.
He prays that you never leave. That you never wake up one day and decide that he’s too much trouble, that he’s too broken, that he’ll never be what you deserve.
He prays that this feeling—the quiet warmth that seeps into his bones whenever you’re around—never fades.
And yet, he still can’t bring himself to say it.
Not yet.
The words finally escape him on a night like this—under a sky filled with stars, your hand resting lightly in his, your head against his shoulder.
“Stay.” His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper.
You shift slightly, peering up at him with wide eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He exhales sharply, his grip tightening around yours. “No, I mean—” His throat works, the words catching like sandpaper. “Stay with me.”
Understanding dawns in your eyes, and for a moment, he thinks you might say no. That you might turn away.
But then you smile—soft, warm, home.
“Okay.”
Leona doesn’t believe in miracles.
But when you press your lips to his, slow and tender and real, he thinks that maybe the sun has been shining on him all along.
He just hadn’t noticed.
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Masterlist ; Valentine's Event
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alastor-x-reader-stories · 2 days ago
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Radio Demon Demands Snuggles 1/2
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Summary: It's your first rut month in Hell and you've caught the interest of the Radio Demon. The Radio Demon who's annual problem was a bit different than most others....
Notes: NO SMUT, Alastor x Reader, pre-relationship, OOC Alastor, he gets better, Snuggles, communication, suggestive themes because it's about rut
One day you woke up in Alastor’s room, nestled in his bed. You blinked, delirious and confused, and tried to sit up only to find you were pinned down on the mattress.
By Alastor.
Who wasn’t wearing his coat. Or his shoes. Or his monocle.
Who was clinging onto you, cheek pressed into your stomach, his tail wagging happily out in the open.
You were equal parts terrified, confused, and awe-struck. But first.
“Alastor…?”
“Mmmm yes?” He murmured, sleep making his voice come out in a drawl.
“…What are you doing?”
“Snuggling.” Alastor sighed, nuzzling his face against you as his wagging tail picked up speed. His sharp grin had been swapped out for a dopey looking smile, his fangs poked out under his lip.
“….Why?”
“Snuggle time.”
You blinked, confused “Alastor- I- what’s going on- why are you-“
“Shshshshhshshshhhhh.” He said, putting a hand over your face to stop your mumbling “Snuggles.”
He withdrew his hand, wrapping the arm around you and sighing contently.
“…Are you sick? Were you drugged?”
“Only drug here is an excessive amount of dopamine.” Alastor said, his eyes squinting in his smile. “So soft. So comfy.”
Not adjectives you’d use to describe yourself, but that wasn’t important. Your tried to pry Alastor off you only to stop abruptly when he whined. Like a dog. The sound was high-pitched and heartbreaking to hear and you couldn’t find it in you to continue pushing him away.
He snapped right back to you, his tail wagging again as he pressed his face flushed against you.
With no other choice, you ended up laying there, staring at the sky of Alastor’s strange pocket-dimension and feeling squished underneath him. It wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling by any means, but the strangeness of Alastor’s behavior was still upsetting you. After a bit, you tried again.
“Alastor can you tell me what’s going on now?” You said. His response was to nuzzle his face into your stomach and grip you harder. His ears pinned back slightly as he muttered his protest at being interrupted. This was wrong. Fingers curling into the sheets, you tried to steady yourself enough to breath evenly. It failed. You let out a quiet, shaky sob.
Alastor’s ears shot straight up.
“Alastor, please- I’m really worried, okay?” You said as you fought to keep your voice steady “This is really, really weird for you- and I-“
“Oh, darling….” Alastor sighed. He pushed himself away and off you, though it seemed it took a good deal of effort. His hands came to cradle either side of your face and he wiped your tears away gently “Always so considerate…”
You lightly gripped his wrists and pulled them off you “Alastor-“
“It’s rut month, my dear.”
You didn’t try hiding your confusion.
“…Ah. No one told you about it yet.” He muttered “Rut month….well. Most demons get it, it’s an annual punishment where a demon’s… physical interests, intensify to a point it’s near impossible to control.”
You stiffen. “Uh-“
Alastor pressed his forehead to yours, fingers carding gently through your hair. “it’s…humiliating. To say so, but even I’m not exempt from this.”
“UUUUUHHHH”
“….You seem distressed.”
“Alastor, I do NOT want to fuck.”
“I am not asking you to.” Alastor said, a slight growl to his voice. He pressed your head against his chest and wrapped his long limbs around you, keeping you still “For some demons, ruts are…different. Odd. Whatever. In my case,” he took a long, deep breath, nose buried in your hair “I simply…erk. Get.” He pressed you head firmer against him, as if trying to stop you from pulling away. His body felt very warm and you wondered if that was due to the rut or embarrassment. “…snuggly.”
“….That’s it?”
“Clingy. Snuggly. Perhaps…. A bit….silly. Overly affectionate. All those things I hate being.”
“….It feels wrong.” You sighed, trying to pull away “From what I’m gathering, you’re not exactly yourself. I don’t want to do this if you-“
He whined again, wrapping around you even tighter.
“Alastor.” You said.
It seemed he purposely ignored you, pressing his face against the back of your neck.
“Alastor.” You said again, putting more authority into your voice.
“Don’t do this to me, darling….” He said quietly. The tremble in his voice made your heart break but you meant what you said.
“You would not be okay with this during a normal time.” You said “This is something you’d regret once you’re coherent and I will NOT do that to you. Understand?”
“Darling-“
“No.” You hissed.
“….hold my hand?”
You furrowed your brows. “…. I don’t think you’d-“
“Arm around mine then. Hands on my ears. Something, dearest. Please.”
“…Sit up.”
He did. You pretended it didn’t bother you as much as it did. Gently you guided him so he was laying on his back with his head on the pillow. Then you settled next to him, allowing your arm to just barely brush his. Alastor tried to move closer and you pushed him away.
“No. this is as far you’d go normally.”
“Damn.” He murmured, ears pinning back as he glared intently at the ceiling.
“I think you’ll thank me, later.” You said with a roll of your eyes, flipping open a book you snagged from his bedside. It was a murder mystery, to no one’s surprise.
“Well right now, I am not.” He huffed.
“Whatever. Try to sleep it off.” You said, trying to ignore how badly you wanted to move closer. For whatever reason, Alastor had sought you out for this. That alone was enough the set your cheeks aflame and give you the warm and fuzzies. But he was being so cute too.
It didn’t matter, though. As innocent as snuggling was, you were sure Alastor wouldn’t do it while coherent, and you weren’t going to take advantage of it.
The month crawled by. Alastor seemed to accept the boundary you drew for him, but whenever you weren’t by his side he would start pacing irritably. If it was particularly bad day, he’d start to whine. The residents of the hotel seemed more worried about you than Alastor, asking where you’ve been and why you’ve been hard to reach.
You didn’t know how much Alastor would want to share so you kept it vague. Saying it wasn’t your situation to share. Charlie let up when you assured her you would ask for help if need be. Angel kept smirking whenever he saw you and offered to ‘help you out for rut month’. You supposed that was the natural conclusion to come to but you never said anything other than waving him off.
Turned out you were one of the lucky few who didn’t get the annual rut. Nifty had exclaimed she didn’t get it either. Though she sounded incredibly disappointed by it. Angel’s was so insignificant to him given his lifestyle, and Husk said he’d usual set something up before hand to ‘fuck it out’ as soon as possible. Charlie and Vaggie didn’t seem to get it, as it seemed to be a sinner thing. Lucifer seemed surprised it was a thing at all.
None of this helped you with Alastor. You sighed, feeling utterly drained as you trotted back to his room. Your muscles tense but no fierce tackle was thrown your way. First beat was confusion. Second was concern. Third (but faint) was disappointment.
“Alastor?” You said, taking off your shoes by the door and padding softly into his room.
“Hello, dear.” The Radio Demon grinned. He was sat at an armchair, legs crossed primly as he flipped through a book. His coat and monocle were back, his shoes on neatly.
“Oh! Is it over now?” You exclaimed, relief flooding over the slight (selfish) disappointment.
“It would seem so!” He hummed. He closed his book and placed It on the table next to him before strolling over to you. That sharp-toothed grin was back, no longer the dopey smile you had gotten used to.
“That’s such a relief.” You said with a smile “I can go back to living!”
“Nah-ah-ha.” Alastor hummed, wagging his finger “AFTER-living, darling.”
“Yeah, yeah, that.” You said with a roll of your eyes. “Well! I’ll grab my things I moved over here and get going.”
“Already taken care of!” Alastor grinned “I didn’t exactly want all those soulless stuffed animals staring at me with their void-filled eyes.”
“Dude.” You huffed “They’re just stuffed animals. Chill.”
“Kindly use words that make sense.”
“Skibidi.”
“……YOU don’t even know what that one means.”
“I know it annoys you.”
“HA.”
You laughed a bit. “Well, thanks for that. I’ll get out of your hair now.”
“Kindly do. I have a plethora of matters to attend to.” Alastor said, his grin straining ever-so-slightly “Damned rut season….”
“Well yeah it’s damned, we’re in hell.”
“HA HA.”
“I know, I’m hilarious.” You grinned “Well, see ya.”
“Ta-ta! Oh….One more thing, before you go?”
You stopped, turning to face him “Yeah?”
Alastor ears went back, his eyes darting to the side “…Thank you.”
Your smile softened “Of course.”
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rik0shii · 1 day ago
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lads guys headcanons
(zayne,sylus,xavier,rafayel,caleb)
warnings :fluff
request: yes
thank you for requesting, I'm new to doing those things so pls tell me if it wasn't to your liking or if it wasn't what you imagined so that I can fix it and get better !
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Zayne
• Super punctual—if you have a date set for 1 PM, he’s already outside at 12:50, waiting in his car just so he can call you at the exact time.
• Kids adore him. He has that calm, safe aura that makes even the shyest child want to hold his hand.
• ASMR king—his whispery, soft-spoken voice could put anyone to sleep. If he ever recorded voice memos for you, they’d be the most soothing thing ever.
• After a long mission, he welcomes you with quiet reassurances, hugging you from behind and murmuring, “You did great today. I missed you.”
• Loves holding your hand, whether it’s a quick squeeze of reassurance or intertwining fingers while walking.
• Soft, sleepy smiles—the rare moments when he’s tired but still awake enough to look at you and grin lazily.
• Would totally tuck a blanket around you if you fell asleep on the couch.
Xavier
• Definitely the “I know a spot” guy. And when he shows you? It’s breathtaking—some secret rooftop, a hidden garden, a quiet overlook.
• Hand-holding and forehead kisses in those quiet places where it’s just the two of you.
• If you’re on a mission and he’s not with you, he refuses to sleep. He’ll pace, check his phone, stare at the ceiling—anything but rest.
• CLINGS when you return. Arms wrapped around you, face buried in your neck, and a muffled, “Don’t ever leave me like that again.”
• Skilled with his fingers? Definitely means he can play the piano beautifully. Would learn your favorite song just to surprise you.
• Lowkey romantic in an effortless way. Always the guy to drape his jacket over you if you’re cold or tilt your chin up before a kiss.
Sylus
• Loves stargazing. If you ever go on a late-night drive, he’ll pull over just to sit on the hood of the car with you, pointing out constellations.
• Loves rainy days—the sound, the smell, the way it makes everything feel cozy. If it’s storming outside, he’s making hot drinks and pulling you onto the couch for a movie marathon.
• A big fan of sleepy cuddles. He’ll absentmindedly run his fingers through your hair while half-asleep.
• Writes little notes for you and leaves them in random places—inside books, on your mirror, tucked into your jacket pocket.
• Horrible at remembering dates but amazing at remembering tiny details—like the way you take your coffee or the song you hummed once three months ago.
• Unironically loves stuffed animals. If you ever give him one, he’ll pretend it’s no big deal, but you’ll definitely find it on his bed later.
Caleb
• Super protective but in a quiet way—he’ll walk on the side closest to the street, double-check locks before bed, and always notice when you seem off.
• Really good cook—if you’re having a bad day, expect a homemade meal that somehow tastes exactly like comfort.
• Loves fixing things for you. Broken zipper? He’s on it. Squeaky door? Fixed. Car won’t start? He’s already rolling up his sleeves.
• Acts grumpy but is secretly the softest. If you rest your head on his shoulder, he’ll pretend to sigh but won’t move an inch.
• Always warm. If you’re cold, he’ll just pull you into his side like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
• Reads a lot. Might not admit it, but he totally has a favorite book and will casually reference it in conversation.
• Loves slow dancing in the kitchen. No music, just the sound of your breathing and his steady heartbeat.
Rafayel
• Absolute charmer—he can flirt like it’s second nature, but when it comes to real feelings, he gets a little shy.
• Knows how to dress. If you ever need help picking an outfit, he’ll make sure you look stunning.
• Sends voice memos instead of texts. His voice is too smooth not to be used.
• Great dancer—whether it’s a fancy ballroom-style twirl or a goofy little move in the kitchen, he makes everything feel fun.
• Gives the best compliments—not just about looks, but little things like, “I love how your eyes light up when you talk about something you love.”
• Cuddling expert. His hugs are always just the right amount of firm, warm, and lingering.
• Loves learning about you. Your favorite color? Noted. The way you like your tea? Memorized. A weird fact about something you love? He’ll bring it up just to see you smile.
241 notes · View notes
nilla03 · 2 days ago
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“𝐵𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑦“
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𝑃𝑙𝑜𝑡:𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑖 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑙𝑢𝑏
𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠: 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑖,𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑔ℎ 𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔,𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑐𝑟𝑦 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦
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Nanami wasn't thrilled about you going out, but he let you go. You had pouted, kissed his jaw, and assured him you'd be safe, promising to text him throughout the night. He trusted you-of course, he did-but that didn't mean he liked the idea of you in some dark, crowded club, surrounded by drunk men who wouldn't know how to keep their hands to themselves.
Still, he kissed your forehead before you left, his large hands squeezing your waist as he muttered, "Be good."
You had every intention of listening. Really, you did.
But a few drinks in, and things started getting a little hazy.
You were laughing with your friends, dancing under the dim neon lights, feeling warm and weightless as the alcohol pulsed through your veins. You had been texting Nanami like you promised-little updates here and there-but at some point, your replies got lazy, a few too many typos slipping in, and then... nothing.
That's when he decides to come get you.
By the time Nanami arrived, you were at the bar, giggling at something your friend said, a drink in your hand that you were already too tipsy to finish. He spotted you instantly-your pretty outfit, your glossy lips, the way your jewelry caught the low lights. You looked like a doll, and you were practically glowing, but the moment his sharp eyes landed on you, all he felt was irritation.
Of course, you had gotten carried away.
You didn't even notice him at first, too busy swaying to the music, but the second a warm, familiar hand touched the small of your back, you gasped. You turned, blinking up at him with wide, glassy eyes, a smile spreading across your face.
"Kento!" you chirped, stumbling a little as you reached for him. "You came!"
Nanami exhaled through his nose, steadying you with one firm hand. "Of course I did," he said, his voice even. "You stopped answering your phone."
"I did?" You frowned, pulling out your phone and squinting at the screen like the little device had betrayed you. "Oops..."
Nanami only shook his head. "We're going home."
You pouted, clinging to his arm. "But I was having fun."
"I can see that," he murmured, his eyes flicking down to the way your dress had ridden up from all your dancing. His jaw clenched.
"Come on, sweetheart. We're leaving."
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The ride home was quiet.
You sat in the passenger seat, still tipsy, playing with the hem of your dress, stealing little glances at Nanami He was gripping the wheel tightly, his jaws is expression unreadable.
You knew that look.
He wasn't angry-not really-but he wasn't happy either.
When you pulled into the driveway and he helped you out of the car, his hands steady on your waist, you leaned into him with a dramatic sigh.
"Kento," you whined, tilting your head up to look at him. "Are you mad at me?"
His golden-brown eyes flickered down to you, his fingers tightening slightly around your waist. "No," he said, calm as ever.
You let out another little whimper, pressing against his chest. "I just wanted to have fun," you mumbled. "Now l wanna feel good..."
You curled your fingers into his shirt, tilting your face up for a kiss, but he only exhaled sharply through his nose.
"No."
Your brows furrowed, and you let out a small, needy sound as he pulled you inside, guiding you toward the bedroom.
You thought he was going to give in, but instead, he sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled you onto his lap-his thigh, to be exact.
You blinked, confused for a moment. "Kento?"
"If you're so desperate," he murmured, his hands resting heavily on your waist, "you can help yourself."
Your face burned as you realized what he meant. Your thighs squeezed together on instinct, your hands resting on his broad shoulders,
"That's mean," you whispered, trying to shift in his lap, but his grip tightened.
"You were being a brat tonight," he said, his voice low and unwavering.
Your breath hitched.
He was warm beneath you, his thigh firm and unyielding as he kept you still. You squirmed, just a little, testing him, but his fingers dug into your waist, keeping you in place.
"Go on," he murmured, voice deep and smooth. "Show me how bad you want it."
Your lips parted slightly, embarrassment and arousal mixing in your chest, but you listened.
You shifted against his thigh, feeling the friction immediately, and let out a soft, desperate little whimper.
Nanami exhaled through his nose, watching you with sharp, dark eyes.
You whined again, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, but you didn't stop moving. His thigh was so firm beneath you.
Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, your breaths coming out in short, needy little gasps.
Nanami hummed, pressing a slow kiss to your temple.
Your body was trembling-hot, desperate, on the edge-but Nanami still wouldn't budge.
His hands stayed firm on your hips, guiding you over his thigh, keeping the movements slow, controlled, not enough.
You were falling apart, your whimpers turning into soft little sobs as you rocked against the hard muscle, your slick staining his slacks, making a mess of him-but he didn't seem to care.
"You're crying again," he murmured, voice smooth, unaffected. His eyes moved down to where your hips stuttered against his leg. "Pathetic."
You were pathetic, and you didn't care.
You sniffled, rubbing your teary cheek against his chest, trying again to grind harder, to chase the relief you needed, but his grip tightened, forcing you back into that slow, agonizing pace.
"K-Kento," you gasped, nails digging into his arms.
"Shh," he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "You can finish, sweetheart-but only if you do it my way."
You let out a broken little whimper, nodding frantically, your body twitching against him. "I-I will," you hiccupped, pressing your face against his shoulder. "Please, I-I c-can't-"
Nanami hummed, finally letting you move again-but not how you wanted.
He controlled it-pressing your hips down harder against his thigh, making you grind exactly how he wanted, dragging you over the fabric just right, making the friction sharper, deeper, more.
You sobbed, your fingers curling into his shirt, your thighs squeezing around him as the pleasure hit, sharp and overwhelming, making your whole body tremble as you came with a choked little gasp.
Nanami exhaled slowly, watching you shake in his lap, his grip loosening just slightly, smoothing over your soft, overheated skin.
"There you go," he murmured, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. "That's my girl."
You hiccupped, still trembling, still trying to catch your breath as he rubbed slow circles into your back, grounding you, keeping you close.
"Messy little thing," he sighed, his voice softer now, amused.
You sniffled, pressing a weak little kiss to his jaw, blinking up at him with glossy, exhausted eyes.
"Still mean," you mumbled, breathless.
Nanami sighed, brushing your hair back from your sticky, flushed skin. "You're exhausting."
But he was soft with you now, gentle-pulling you close, letting you curl against him, keeping his big hands warm and steady on your body, even though you'd ruined his pants, even though you'd whined and begged like a spoiled little brat.
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satellite-evans · 1 day ago
Note
Hi! Could I please request a one shot where Harry is sick maybe during tour and his gf has to take care of him? Thank you! I love your writing!
a/n: thank you so much for liking my work, it truly means a lot! it's a little short but I still hope you'll like it <3
sick on tour
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The hotel room is quiet except for the noise of the air conditioning and the occasional sniffle from the lump of blankets curled up in the middle of the king-sized bed. The curtains are drawn, shielding the bright city lights outside from intruding on the peaceful, dimly lit space. Harry has always liked his hotel rooms cozy—candles on the nightstand, his favorite hoodie draped over the chair, and the softest pillows he could find. But tonight, none of it seems to bring him comfort.
You stand at the edge of the mattress, arms crossed, watching Harry sulk into his pillow. His curls are a mess, sticking to his slightly damp forehead, his nose a little pink from the fever, and yet—despite looking absolutely miserable—he’s still trying to convince you he’s fine.
“I can do the show,” he rasps, voice hoarse and scratchy. He attempts to prop himself up on his elbows, but the movement sends him into a fit of coughing. You sigh and press a hand to his chest, gently urging him back down.
“Baby, no. You can barely sit up.”
He frowns, brows knitting together like a petulant child. “S’just a little cold.”
“You have a fever, a sore throat, and you sound like you swallowed sandpaper,” you point out, smoothing your fingers over his clammy forehead. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Harry grumbles something incoherent and burrows further into the pillows. You can tell he hates this—hates being taken care of, hates being seen as anything less than strong. But the thing is, to you, he’s always strong. Even now, curled up in a nest of tissues and blankets, he’s still the man you love more than anything.
Tour has been brutal on him lately. Night after night of performing, giving his all to the crowds that adore him, leaving every ounce of himself on that stage. He never complains—not about the exhaustion, not about the jet lag, not about the toll it takes on his body. But you see it in the way his shoulders slump when he thinks no one is looking, the way his voice is a little more raw each morning, the way he clings to you just a little tighter when he finally collapses into bed at the end of the night.
“I can’t cancel, though,” he whispers after a long moment, his voice laced with guilt. “They’ve probably spent so much money—flights, hotels, tickets, clothes and waited months just to see me. I can’t let them down, I just can't.”
You soften, understanding where his frustration is coming from. Harry has always carried the weight of his fans' happiness on his shoulders, always put them first. It’s one of the many reasons you love him—but right now, he needs to put himself first.
You take his hand in yours, rubbing slow, comforting circles over his knuckles. “Harry, sweetheart, I already spoke to Jeff. He and the team handled everything. They put out a statement, rescheduled the show, and made sure the fans know how much you care about them Not that they need a statement anyway. They know how much you love them.”
His brows furrow. “You—”
“I took care of it,” you interrupt gently. “So you don’t have to worry, okay? The fans love you, but they love you healthy and not sticky. You can’t give them the show they deserve if you push yourself too hard now. That is not what they deserve.”
Harry lets out a slow breath, his tense shoulders easing just a fraction. He still looks guilty, but there’s also relief in his tired eyes. “You really talked to Jeff?”
You nod. “Of course. Your health comes first, baby. Now please let me take care of you."
You slip out of the room quietly and return with a damp cloth, gently dabbing it against his forehead. The coolness makes him sigh, his tense shoulders relaxing under your touch. Then, you hold up a spoonful of honey-laced tea to his lips. He scrunches his nose but accepts it, swallowing with a soft grimace.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, voice slightly clearer now.
You smile and brush your fingers over his cheek. “Of course, my love.”
After making sure he’s warm enough, you reach for the small bowl of soup on the nightstand that you kindly asked form the hotel staff. “Just a little, H. You need something in your stomach other than medicine.”
"The fans would've probably ask for me to sing medicine tonight but they can't because I need it. The irony." He said, trying to lighten the room up with a joke but cough wave that crushed him once again.
"Drink Harry." You said sternly.
He looks at you like he wants to argue, but he knows better. You lift the spoon to his lips, and after a moment’s hesitation, he leans forward and takes a bite. A small, content sigh escapes him, and you can’t help but grin.
“You’re good at this,” he mutters, sleep beginning to weigh heavy on him.
“I'm just good at loving you lovie,” you reply simply, brushing back his curls as he lets his eyes drift shut.
His fingers reach for yours under the blanket, giving them a weak squeeze. “Love you more.”
You sit beside him, pressing a soft kiss to his fever-warmed temple. “Just rest, my love. I’ve got you.”
And with the way he sighs, relaxing into your touch, you know he believes you.
Tomorrow, he’ll probably try to argue again. Try to tell you he feels fine, that he’s ready to get back out there, to put on another show. But for tonight, he’s yours to take care of. And you wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.
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revelboo · 2 days ago
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omg, your stories are so good!! Really love that you write for characters I don't usually get to see, like waspinator, the insecticons, etc. Plus you also got me interested in Sunstorm, Which is surprising cause I didn't used to give him a second thought, before. Now I'm curious about where that story is going. Can't wait to see what you do in the future!
You guys have challenged me to write for a lot of characters I’d never written before and I love it
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Where I Belong Pt 12
Bluestreak x Reader
• Waking up tangled in someone else, it takes a moment to remember that Blue had never mass shifted back after telling you all of it. He’d just wrapped himself around you, grieving until he’d finally gone into recharge still clinging to you like you’re his security blanket. Now his face is jammed against your neck, one of the points of his chevron digging uncomfortably into your cheek and his knee is between your thighs, arms wrapped around you. And he’s still out, you can feel him venting against you and you don’t have the heart to wake him. Tipping your head back to try and avoid getting poked by his chevron, you listen to the hum of his internal systems.
• There’s a soft hand on his helm, arms holding him and he curls tighter against that warmth and safety. Slowly coming out of recharge without that hum of terror chasing him into alertness. Without the nightmares. “Blue, honey, I can’t breathe,” you say and he’s fully online. Head lifting, he realizes he’s wrapped around you and he awkwardly scoots back. Forcing himself to stop smothering you and to put some distance between you both when he just wants to bury his face back against you. Feel those soft hands on him telling him that he’s okay. Reassuring him. “Sleep okay?” You ask him, somehow not annoyed with him when you should be. Have every right to be.
• “Sorry. I guess I got a little clingy there.” He can’t even look you in the eye right now, too embarrassed about needing someone to hold him. Like there’s something wrong with him for it. And you wiggle closer, resting your cheek on his chassis. See his arm lift, hand hovering but not touching and you grab his wrist and firmly drag his arm down to drape over you. “You don’t have to,” he murmurs, voice small. Like he thinks he’s bothering you and it makes you more determined to stay right where you are.
• “What am I doing? You’re warm and it’s freezing in here,” you reply, relaxing against him with a yawn. Pretending that you’re not trying to comfort him, trying to help. Servos hesitantly playing with your hair, he forces himself to relax. Willing to play along if he can feel your heart beating against him, grounding him in the reality that he’s not alone anymore. Doesn’t expect you to stay. No one ever does, but wants to hang on to this feeling until you get tired with him. Until he becomes too much of a burden.
• “Thank you,” he whispers and that almost breaks your heart. Like the fact that anyone might just actually want to reach out to him, to stay beside him is unthinkable to him. Makes you want to hunt down whoever put that thought into his head and beat some sense into them. Because this sweet bot is beginning to mean the world to you and you’re determined to protect him at any cost.
Previous
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cambankromyy · 2 days ago
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THE ISLAND LOOKOUT (pt.9): midsummer suit - (smau & irl au) childhood bsf!rafe cameron x thornton!reader
series masterlist; general masterlist; taglist
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an: theres a little bit of.. not smut but the intention of. so if ur uncomfortable w that.. sorry!!!!! i swear real smut coming soon
part 8- part 9 - part 10
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it wasn’t like roni and jj never texted before that night. they had, just not like this. before, it was mostly through sarah, or quick exchanges about something happening in the moment—jj talking shit about a kook party, roni responding with something equally unserious, both of them moving on.
but after that night, something shifted. their texts ramped up, turned into a running conversation that didn’t really have a start or stop. nothing important, just constant. half of it was stupid, the other half even stupider, but neither of them ever left the other on read.
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you wake up slow, head heavy, limbs tangled in your sheets. jj’s hoodie still clings to you, carrying that sun-soaked, familiar scent, and for a second, you don’t remember falling asleep in it. then again, you don’t remember much of last night past a certain point—just flashes of laughter, the warmth of bodies pressed close, jj stealing your sunglasses, kiara yelling in your ear.
you rub at your face, squinting against the daylight filtering through your window, before rolling over—and that’s when you see it. your midsummers dress, hung up on your closet door, staring you down like it knows something you don’t.
shit.
midsummers. a reminder that you’ve agreed to show up, fully dressed, fully prepared. a reminder that you’re bringing jj, who, knowing him, probably doesn’t even own a suit.
you groan, flopping onto your back before reaching for your phone on the nightstand. the screen lights up with a couple notifications—one from sarah, one from island lookout (you ignore both), and a random-ass picture from jj at 2 a.m. of what looks like an abandoned shopping cart on the side of the road. you huff out a laugh before pulling up your chat.
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if someone told you a month ago that you’d be spending a friday afternoon at a tailor with jj maybank, you would’ve laughed in their face.
but here you are.
jj isn’t the worst shopping partner. he’s actually fun.
he lets you drag him through the store, half-dressed in whatever you throw at him, mostly unbothered until you make him try on a white suit jacket that makes him look like an off-duty magician.
“i look like i’m about to swindle old ladies in a casino,” jj says, staring at his reflection.
“it’s giving coke dealer.”
“that too.”
he disappears at some point and comes back wearing an all-red suit.
“be honest, i look like a sexy little devil, don’t i?”
you don’t even dignify that with a response. just whip out your phone and take a picture. jj is standing on the platform, arms out as some poor old tailor fusses with the fit of his jacket. you’re perched on a nearby couch, arms crossed, head tilted as you watch the disaster unfold.
after many many complaints and suits tried on, you're able to snap a picture of the final suit, sending it to the groupchat.
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jj nudges you, jolting your attention away from your phone, his voice low. “dude, i think someone just took a picture of us.”
you glance around, spotting the obvious island lookout informant, a kook girl pretending to browse through ties while clearly not-so-subtly typing on her phone.
you shrug, not even fazed. “oh yeah, that’s normal. happens to me sometimes. not on the cut, but for sure on fig 8 or somewhere around here.”
jj raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “damn, you’re famous.”
you roll your eyes. “oh no, don’t manifest it.”
he laughs, shaking his head. “maybe we’ll trend.”
you groan sarcastiaclly, already imagining the chaos. “please no. dont manifest it.”
you just roll your eyes but smile. there’s no escaping the attention when you’re constantly doing the most.
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by the time you both leave, jj is still messing with his collar, looking himself over in the rearview mirror.
“this is dangerous,” he says, admiring the way the suit fits. “if i pull up to midsummers in this, i might not make it out single.”
you snort. “you’re literally my date. be so for real.”
jj grins at you, eyes flicking down for a second before he shrugs. “yeah, yeah. not a bad deal, though.”
you roll your eyes but feel the warmth spread through your chest anyway.
you decide to drive around the island instead of going back to the chateau immediately. windows down, music low. the sun is setting, the conversation easy, bouncing from bullshit to real shit and back again.
it’s only when you pull up to the chateau that the mood shifts.
you put the car into park, the music cutting off along with the engine, but neither of you move. the air inside feels thick, charged, like something’s been hanging between you all day, just waiting to snap.
you stare ahead, hands still gripping the wheel. jj sits back in his seat, stretching out his legs, his fingers drumming lazily against his knee. the silence stretches.
you glance at him.
he smirks, tilting his head. “what?”
that’s all it takes.
a breath of laughter escapes you—nervous, knowing. jj grins wider, like he knows exactly what’s running through your head, because it’s running through his too.
you should probably think it through. maybe hesitate.
you don’t.
you lean in, and jj doesn’t hesitate either. his hand finds your jaw, fingers pressing into your skin as he pulls you deeper into the kiss.
you exhale sharply through your nose, fingers curling around the collar of his shirt. jj is warm, solid, familiar—but the way he kisses you? anything but.
it’s slow at first, like neither of you want to rush it. then jj tilts his head, and suddenly it’s all teeth, heat, and tongue, a little messy, a little desperate.
you hum against his lips, barely processing the way his hand drags down, palm pressing over your bare thigh. he squeezes, and a jolt of something hot and electric shoots up your spine.
jj grins against your mouth like he can tell. like he likes it.
his fingers press in harder, and you bite his bottom lip in retaliation. he groans, his other hand slipping under the hem of your hoodie, fingertips brushing bare skin.
the air in the car turns thick. the tension crackles.
you shift, moving closer, your knee knocking into his as you drag your nails lightly over his neck. jj shudders, and you feel a flicker of satisfaction knowing you’re getting to him just as much. his hand travels down to your thighs, squeezing them as he inches up to where your really want him.
and then—
“roni?”
sarah’s voice.
you barely have time to pull back before sarah’s face appears in the window, all bright-eyed and oblivious.
“oh, perfect!” she chirps. “roni, can you drive me home real quick? and you wanna get dinner after?”
sarah doesn’t notice a thing.
you glance at jj, expecting to see him just as thrown off, but he’s already leaning back, rubbing his jaw, his expression smooth. like nothing happened.
“yeah, yeah,” you say, your voice slightly hoarse. you clear your throat and turn the key in the ignition, gripping the wheel so tight your knuckles turn white.
jj just smirks, tapping his fingers against his knee. “see you later, thornton.”
then he’s out the door, walking toward the chateau like you weren’t just wrapped up in each other, like he didn’t just change everything.
you exhale, gripping the wheel as sarah gets in to the passengers seat.
that was way too close.
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an; eek i love itttt also 2 chapters in one day? who am i
tags: @italk2god @angelicameron @marleymarleymarleymarley, @queenvane64, @raeven-marie43 @idiotussupremus @sereneera @yesshewrites1 @inlovewithchriss @ethanthequeefqueen @amterasuu @popou61 @drewsstars @yannew @anothertimegirl @flvredcas @yootvi @mrsdrewstarkeyy @niaunofficial @cooper8224 @rafegetinmybed @pogueprincesa @6r4cie @adalia-lovelace @bee-43 @drewrry @masongetinmybed @defnotayonna @lcversvoid @my-name-is-baby @lolasangelz @polli05927 @laniirackssss @rafecameronswifeyy
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maplegyu · 2 days ago
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Went into this with no expectations! I just saw the tropes and summary and was like ooohhh i love all of these! I ended up rly loving the story and enjoying my read!!!
Your fingers tightened around the glass. Without thinking, you poured yourself another shot—your third, or was it the fourth? You weren’t keeping track anymore.
Mingyu let out a small chuckle, and that was it—you tipped your head back and downed the drink in one go.
Your chest tightened. Mingyu was your closest friend. Your partner for everything. The one you laughed with, teased, leaned on. Seeing her in that space, acting like she belonged, made your skin crawl. You probably were just overreacting- and yet, you just kept drinking.
Loved loved loved how this was written!!! I could really feel how reader was clinging onto the alcohol like a lifeline! The more it felt like Mingyu would be slipping through her fingers the harder she tried to be grounded by something else!
God, you were so hopelessly in love with him.
I GET U READER I WOULD BE TOO He's such a gentleman and he's sooo in tune with her feelings WHO WOULDNT FALL IN LOVE W KIM MINGYU
Of course, it wasn’t a big deal to him. But to you? It was everything. Every single thing.
GOD I CAN ONLY IMAGINE HOW MUCH THIS HURTS its like ur breaking ur own heart bc the feeling is like!! WHAT RIGHT DO I HAVE TO FEEL THIS WAY???!! i get u reader i rly get uuuu BUT UR FEELINGS ARE REAL AND VALID 😭 the hoping and yearning wow wow wow
I loved the imagery of the writing so much!!! Especially the scene outside the restaurant!!! Felt so immersed in the story and in very few scenes was already familiar with how close reader and Mingyu are and their feelings for each other.
BUT THE MORNING AFTER SCENE OH MY GOD???!?! CHEEKY MINGYU AAAAHHHHHHHHH
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ON GOD!!! I AM NOT OVER THE IMAGE OF JUST WOKEN UP MINGYU, RASPY VOICE, REACHING OUT FOR READER... SMIRKING!!!!!! who wouldnt want to wake up next to this man for the rest of their lives?!
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"Oh, this is fun," - im sorry. I WANT HIM SO BAD. Mingyu being a tease and being cheeky... I LOVE THIS KIND OF MINGYU GENUINELY LIKE SOME OF MY FAVORITE MINGYU TO READ!!!!!
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YES HE DID BECAUSE PERHAPS!!!! HE IS IN LOVE WITH U ALSO DEAR READER?! 💘
“I know you can,” he said with that same, effortless ease, his tall, towering frame moving toward you without hesitation. “But let me.” His voice was softer this time, the teasing gone. 
MY KNEES TURNED TO JELLY FR!!!! when he is chivalrous and a gentleman but also hot as fuck 🤩
Mingyu stood at the stove, moving effortlessly like he belonged there, he changed his white shirt. His black t-shirt now clinging just enough to make you notice. The sleeves stretched over his biceps, broad and defined, flexing slightly with each movement.
IMAGINING THIS MINGYU
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AND I DONT BLAME READER FOR HAVING A HARD TIME W HER FEELINGS FOR HIM
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THE WAY THIS WHOLE SCENE EXCITED ME BECAUSE IT CONFIRMS THAT MINGYU DOES ACTUALLY FEEL FEELINGS FOR READER TOO!!!! ITS NOT ONE-SIDED AAAAHHHHH ✨️
Yeah. He was so screwed. 
#MAPLEGYU SCREAMS!!!!!!!!! this is everything. officially down bad. on his way to becoming a certified loverboy!!!!!!
The whole back and forth about stealing and wearing Mingyu's clothes...... THE OBVIOUS FLIRTING PLEASE I WAS RLY EATING IT UP!!!! dont u two realize ur so into each other aaahhhhhh! And then tbh at this point i thought the story (or part 1) would be over but there was more!!!!
Mingyu was still there and reader was wearing his clothes. Excuse me a whole day of domesticity with your favorite person????
The way user taesjpq painted the picture of how their night was going sent me to space actually because ITS THE LITTLE THINGS!!!! together ordinary things feel extraordinary 😭 and im sure thats what reader felt w gyu!!!! And please they never stopped flirting! Him telling her he looks good in his clothes!!?? MY BABY GIRL LET YOUR MIND GO THERE!!!! THINK ABT GYU BEING PART OF UR DAILY LIFE!!!! BELIEVE HE LIKES U BACK COS HE DOES!!!!!
He watches you with an intensity that makes the room feel smaller, more intimate. His eyes flicker to your lips, and that’s when it happens—the hesitation. Heswallows hard, fighting the urge to close the distance entirely. He’s trying—really trying—to resist, to keep this from crossing a line neither of you can come back from. But it’s impossible when you’re looking at him like that, when your body is so close, when the scent of you wrapped in his clothes makes his head spin. 
THIS MADE ME INSANE I LEGIT WASNT BREATHING
SO IMAGINE MY EXCITEMENT WHEN HE TRIED TO GO IN FOR A KISS!!!!!!! The build-up??!?! The uncertaintainty but also wanting it so bad??!?! CROSS IT CROSS THE LINE!!!! God im rooting for them i am suchhhh a sucker for bff's to lovers!!!!!!!
Thank you for writing this i really reaaally enjoyed it!!! I cant wait for the next part!!!! 💖
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Jealousy part. I
genre — suggestive fluff, best friends to lovers, smut (maybe in part II) ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ pairing — female!reader x best friend!Mingyu summary — You, Hoshi, Wonwoo, and Mingyu—inseparable. Their apartment feels like your second home. But one of them makes your heart race in ways you wish it wouldn’t. He treats you like you’re special—attentive, caring, almost like a boyfriend. But he’s not your boyfriend. He’s your best friend. He treats you this way—this is just how Mingyu is, right? word count — 4,3k (part l)
Warnings and notes under the line.
WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, jealousy/insecurity, unrequited/complicated feelings, emotional distress, avoidance/coping mechanisms, mild possessiveness (towards him), possible hangover, waking up next to someone, suggestive elements/mild sexual tension, light kiss [let me know if I forgot something]
notes: san (ateez) cameo (you will better understand in part II) Hoshi, Wonwoo cameo. This is my first published ff ever, I hope you like it. I‘m actually very nervous about it, so feel free to give your opinion. I just wrote this, when I felt down bad for Mingyu again (he‘s so boyfriend istg). The question is, when i am not exactly down bad for Mingyu? He‘s the standard.
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"Any plans for the weekend?"  
San held the office door open for you, his gentle smile as familiar as ever.  
You sighed quietly, relieved that the exhausting workweek was finally over. It had been chaos—half the staff out sick, leaving you drowning in double the workload.  
San had been your lifesaver, stepping in every time you thought you might break under the pressure.  
"Actually, I'm meeting my friends at a restaurant," you replied, noticing the faint flicker of something wistful in his eyes.  
"Why am I not surprised?" he teased, his grin widening as you stepped through the door.  
San had a way of always asking about your plans, like he was hoping, just once, your answer might include him. But it never did. Just: „My friends, my friends, my friends.“ 
It wasn’t a lie, though. You practically lived at their apartment. Gaming nights with Wonwoo, gym sessions with Mingyu, and endless meals with Hoshi—that was your rhythm, your second home.  
"Thanks for the coffee, San. Next time, it’s on me," you said, flashing him a grateful smile.  
"Anytime," he replied, his gaze lingering for just a moment longer before you parted ways.
 
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You arrived flustered, breathless from rushing. Of course, they were already here. 
As you pushed open the door, the warm buzz of conversation and clinking plates enveloped you.  
Your eyes scanned the restaurant, locking on them almost immediately: your boys—and a girl. A girl? 
She was sitting beside Mingyu, close enough that their arms nearly brushed. Her laugh carried across the table, light and unrestrained, and something about it made your stomach twist. Who was she?  
"Finally!" Hoshi greeted you as you approached, his voice brimming with playful exasperation. "We thought you’d ditched us."  
You forced a smile, settling into the usual chaos of their teasing welcome. 
"This is Hana," Wonwoo explained casually when he caught the question in your eyes.  
"And? don’t you think she looks just like me?" Hoshi added, grinning as he gestured dramatically toward her.  
You studied her more closely, and the resemblance hit you. It was uncanny—her smile, her energy. She could’ve been his twin. 
"I’ve been crashing at their place for a few days," Hana said, extending her hand toward you. "Hoshi insisted."  
Your polite smile barely reached your eyes. Why hadn’t anyone told you?  
"Nice to meet you," you said, shaking her hand and glancing around. There wasn’t an empty chair for you.  
Mingyu noticed immediately. Without hesitation, he stood, grabbing one from a nearby table and setting it beside him.  
"Thanks, Gyu," you murmured, your voice softer than you intended.  
He nodded and gave you a gentle smile. 
Oh, how you’d missed him. His warmth, his silly jokes—the way his laughter could dissolve the stress of your week. You’d been looking forward to this, to catching up with him. But now, it seemed difficult.  
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As the group settled into conversation, you tried to focus, tried to join in. But your attention kept drifting—to Hana, to how close she sat to Mingyu, to the way she leaned into him when she laughed. Her fingers grazed his arm casually, like she belonged there.  
"So, Hana, how do you like the city so far?" Wonwoo asked, drawing her attention.  
"It’s great," she said brightly. "Hoshi’s been showing me around—it’s been so much fun."  
Her hand lingered on Mingyu’s shoulder as she spoke, and your stomach knotted uncomfortably.  
Just then, the waiter arrived, placing drinks on the table. Four sojus. Your eyebrows lifted in surprise—they’d ordered before you arrived. That wasn’t how things worked. You always waited. It was a small tradition, but it mattered. Or, at least, it used to.  
"One soju for me too, please," you said quickly, catching the waiter before he walked away.  
But the unease didn’t leave. Hana’s touchiness continued—her laugh too loud, her attention on Mingyu too focused. He didn’t seem to mind, even smiled at her a few times. Yet, every so often, his eyes flicked to you, as if checking for something. 
You didn’t know why, but every time Hana’s hand brushed against his arm, you reached for your bottle. Every time she giggled a little too sweetly, your glass met your lips. The warm burn sliding down your throat was easier to deal with than the twist in your chest. 
"You should see these two at the gym," Hoshi chimed in suddenly, pointing between you and Mingyu. "They’re like workout aliens or something." 
The group laughed, and you managed a small smile, but your heart wasn’t in it. 
Hana giggled, leaning closer to Mingyu. "Maybe you can show me some moves sometime," she said, her tone playful. 
Your fingers tightened around the glass. Without thinking, you poured yourself another shot—your third, or was it the fourth? You weren’t keeping track anymore.  
Mingyu let out a small chuckle, and that was it—you tipped your head back and downed the drink in one go. 
Your chest tightened. Mingyu was your closest friend. Your partner for everything. The one you laughed with, teased, leaned on. Seeing her in that space, acting like she belonged, made your skin crawl. You probably were just overreacting- and yet, you just kept drinking. 
“I need to go to the bathroom,” you lie, the words tumbling out too quickly, barely convincing even to yourself. 
You needed space—air that wasn’t thick with your confusion, your frustration. If you stayed another second, your face would betray you, exposing the childish jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.  
The cool evening air hit you like a lifeline as you stepped outside, goosebumps forming on your arms from the crisp breeze. 
You closed your eyes briefly, letting it kiss your flushed cheeks, but it did little to soothe the ache in your chest. The dull, relentless throb of longing refused to fade.  
“This isn’t the bathroom.”  
The familiar voice sent a jolt through you, every nerve in your body suddenly on high alert. You didn’t have to turn to know who it was.  
You glanced back anyway, already masking your shock with a strained smile. Of course, it’s him. It’s always him.  
“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, forcing a lightness you didn’t feel. “This looks like a bathroom to me.”  
He chuckled, that low, warm laugh that always did things to your chest, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. And despite yourself, you smiled too, because how could you not? 
God, you were so hopelessly in love with him.  
Without a word, he steps closer, draping your jacket over your shoulders. “You’re probably freezing,” he says, his voice gentle, but with a tenderness that makes your stomach tighten.  
His hands brush lightly against your skin as he adjusts the jacket, and it sends a shiver through you—not from the cold, but from the barely-there touch. 
You look up, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes meet his. His gaze softens, a flicker of concern crossing his face.  
The silence that followed stretched taut between you, thick and heavy with unspoken words. Neither of you seemed willing to break it. The faint hum of traffic and the muffled buzz of laughter from the bar filled the empty space.  
You shifted uncomfortably, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress. Don’t say it. Don’t bring her up. Just let it go. But the question clawed its way out of you anyway.  
“I didn’t know Hana was staying at your place,” you blurted, the words sharper than you intended, laced with something raw and exposed.  
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “Yeah, I didn’t know either. Trust me.”  
You raise an eyebrow, still unsure. “Hoshi didn’t mention it?” 
“He forgot,” Mingyu mutters, shaking his head. What a Hoshi thing to happen, you thought.  
“I walked into my room, and she was already asleep in my bed. I didn’t have the heart to wake her, so I took the couch for the week.”  
Your stomach twisted, the weight of his explanation sitting heavy. Of course, he wouldn’t complain. He’s Mingyu—always generous, always selfless. Always giving more of himself than he should.  
“Oh,” you managed, your voice too light, too fake. “It’s just funny to think… if I showed up at your place, I’d find her instead of you.” You tried to laugh, but the sound was hollow, even to your ears.  
He shrugged, casual and unaffected. “It wasn’t a big deal for me. I worked overtime all week, so I wasn’t home much anyway.”  
Of course, it wasn’t a big deal to him. But to you? It was everything. Every single thing.  
You felt the sting of tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away quickly. Not here. Not now.  
The night had been shallow and hollow, a void you couldn’t seem to escape. All you’d wanted was a quiet evening with your friends, especially Mingyu. Just sitting beside him, leaning against his shoulder—feeling the solid warmth of him—would’ve been enough.  
But instead, you’d spent the evening watching Hana, her laughter, her touches, her presence invading spaces you’d always considered yours. Even if you don't have the right to do so. 
The ache in your chest sharpened, spreading through you like wildfire. You couldn’t stay here any longer.  
“I’m gonna head home,” you said, your voice flat, eyes fixed on the ground. “I think I need some rest after this week.”  
You felt his gaze land on you, heavy and searching, and for a moment, you wavered under its weight.  
“I’ll take you home,” he said softly, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.  
“No, it’s okay,” you replied quickly, trying to steady your tone. “I have my car.”  
“I know,” he says, stepping closer, his presence almost overwhelming. His eyes scan your face, tracing every inch of you, as if reading you in ways that make your heart race. “But you shouldn’t drive. You drank too much.” 
“I’m fine,” you muttered, frustration bubbling up. “I’m not drunk.” 
 And then, he speaks again, voice softer, more tender. 
“Your cheeks,” he murmurs, his thumb gently brushing against your flushed skin. “They’re red. That happens when you drink too much.” 
You freeze, his touch lingering. Your heart pounds in your chest, and his proximity feels like a punch to your gut. He looks even more handsome than usual—his messy hair falling over his forehead, the soft fabric of his shirt still loose and unbuttoned just enough to make your breath catch. The way he stands there, effortlessly composed, but so close that you can almost taste the air between you—his scent wrapping around you like a warm, familiar blanket. 
God, you feel weak in front of him. 
“I can’t let you drive like this,” he adds softly. 
You want to protest, but the words catch in your throat. He cares. He always does. 
“Unless…” he tilts his head slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’ve got other plans?”  
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A sharp, throbbing pain pulsed through your head as you reached for your phone, your limbs feeling heavy under the weight of sleep. 
The sunlight filtering through the curtains was way too bright, making you wince as you blindly swiped to answer the call without checking the caller ID. 
“Hello…?” Your voice was hoarse, thick with exhaustion. 
“Mingyu, where are you?! I’ve been trying to reach both of you for hours!” 
Your brows furrowed, confusion washing over you like a cold wave. Mingyu? 
You pulled the phone away from your ear to check the name on the screen. Hoshi Hyung. 
Your headache made it hard to process, but one thing was clear—you would never save him like that. 
Why the hell was he even calling you about Mingyu? 
Just as the pieces of the puzzle refused to click into place, you felt it—a presence beside you. 
With a slow, sinking feeling, you turned your head to the right. 
And there he was. 
Mingyu. 
All 187 centimeters of him, sleeping peacefully under your blanket like he belonged there. His hair was tousled, his breathing deep and even, his broad chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. 
Your eyes widened, your grip on the phone tightening. You hung up immedietly.  
Fuck. 
Before you could spiral too much, Mingyu let out a deep sigh, his arm stretching out lazily—almost like he was reaching for you. His eyes, still hazy with sleep, fluttered open but instantly softening the moment they land on you,— The way you were staring at him, as if he'd just appeared out of nowhere —his lips curled into a knowing smirk. 
“Morning,” he murmured, his voice deep and rough with sleep. 
“It’s 2 p.m., Mingyu.” 
He blinked slowly before lazily glancing around the room. “Shit, really?” His voice was raspy, thick. He let out a slow breath before sinking deeper into the pillows. “I slept so fucking good.” A lazy smile tugged at his lips as he let his eyes fall shut again. 
You watched him. His dark hair was a complete mess, strands sticking out in every direction, and yet, somehow, it only made him look softer. His skin looked warm and tan against the white sheets. His lips—full, slightly swollen from sleep—parted just the tiniest bit, and for a moment, you had to fight the urge to reach out, to trace them with your fingertips, just to see if they were as soft as they looked. 
You swallowed hard. "I... uh—what happened last night?" 
Mingyu let out a soft chuckle, rolling onto his side to face you properly. “You really don’t remember?” 
Your silence was answer enough. 
“Oh, this is fun,” he mused, resting his cheek against his palm. “You were very affectionate. Like, I knew you liked me, but I didn’t expect you to cling to me like that.” 
Your face burned instantly. “Shut up.” 
He grinned wider. “You wouldn’t let go. Kept saying I couldn’t leave, that I should sleep next to you.” His voice dropped into something teasing. “Should I start staying over more often?” 
The heat in your cheeks deepened, and without thinking, you grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him. He laughed, catching it effortlessly before it could hit his face. 
“Ohhh, so violent first thing in the morning,” he teased. “Where’s all that love from last night, huh?” 
You wanted to escape the awkwardness, so you stepped away from the bed, but as you did, your gaze betrayed you—flicking toward Mingyu. His white shirt hung loosely on his frame, almost completely unbuttoned, exposing a hint of his chest and the silver chain resting just above it. The sight made your breath catch for a moment, your heart skipping. 
Mingyu caught your glance. His eyes met yours for a heartbeat, but then they dropped—slowly, unwillingly, lingering on your legs just a moment too long. 
You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the fabric of your dress inching up, revealing more of your legs than you'd intended. The air between you both seemed to thicken, heavy with something unspoken. 
In an awkward flurry, Mingyu began buttoning his shirt, his movements too quick, too self-conscious, like he was suddenly aware of every inch of space between you. 
You cleared your throat, trying to fill the silence, and nervously stammered, “I—I’m making breakfast.” 
Mingyu immediately sat up, “I’ll do it.” 
You turned to glare at him, a bit sharper than you intended. “I can make it on my own.” 
“I know you can,” he said with that same, effortless ease, his tall, towering frame moving toward you without hesitation. “But let me.” His voice was softer this time, the teasing gone. 
His eyes flickered over you briefly—the exhaustion, the headache written all over your face, the way your clothes were still crumpled from last night. 
“You should take a shower,” he added, voice gentle. “It’ll help with the headache.” 
You blinked at him, and looked down on you after.  
“Yeah..probably.” 
You hesitated for a second before heading towards the bathroom, still feeling like you were stuck in some weird dream. 
The moment you stepped in front of the mirror, you almost flinch. 
Your makeup was smudged, your hair an absolute mess, strands sticking to your forehead. Your dress from last night was wrinkled and slightly loose on one side. 
You looked horrible. Greasy. Disgusting. 
Mingyu slept next to this? 
You suddenly wanted to cry. 
Taking a deep breath, you quickly peeled off your clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the weird feelings in your chest. 
By the time you were done, you felt human again. 
There was no way you were putting that dress back on, so you grabbed your bathrobe, tying it tightly around your waist before stepping out. 
Your hair was still damp, strands clinging to your skin as you walked barefoot toward the kitchen, following the smell of food. 
Mingyu stood at the stove, moving effortlessly like he belonged there, he changed his white shirt. His black t-shirt now clinging just enough to make you notice. The sleeves stretched over his biceps, broad and defined, flexing slightly with each movement.  
And then he turned around. 
For a moment, it was like time froze. 
Mingyu’s breath hitched the second his eyes landed on you. 
The damp strands of hair framing your face, the way your robe sat snugly around you, revealing the delicate curve of your collarbone—he was so unprepared for this. 
His fingers twitched around the wooden spoon, and for a split second, he forgot what he was even doing. His grip almost faltered. 
He was staring. 
Hard. 
You raised an eyebrow. “You good?” 
Mingyu swallowed, snapping out of it. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, I’m—uh, food’s almost done.” 
He forced a smile, turning back to the stove way too quickly—like he needed a second to compose himself. 
You didn’t question it, shrugging as you took a seat at the table. 
Mingyu, on the other hand, inhaled deeply, gripping the spoon like it was the only thing keeping him from completely losing his mind. 
Yeah. He was so screwed. 
“So.” Mingyu cleared his throat, a little too forcefully. “How’s your headache?” 
You barely looked up, scrolling through the endless messages from Hoshi and Wonwoo. “Hm? Oh-It still hurts. But I’m sure I’ll feel better after eating something."
A beat of silence. 
Too long. Too heavy. 
You, sitting there like that—bare-faced, hair still damp, wrapped up in your robe—he had seen you like this before. And yet, right now, it felt… different. His fingers flexed against the edge of the kitchen counter. 
He didn’t want to think about why. 
“How’s work been lately?” he asked, voice casual—too casual. “You looked exhausted yesterday. And, well… the number of drinks you had kind of spoke for itself.” 
You let out a dry laugh, stretching your legs beneath the table. “Yeah, work… Work has been insane. Feels like half the office is out sick, and I’m the lucky one picking up the slack.” 
Mingyu frowned as he turned off the stove, moving with practiced ease. “That’s bullshit.” A pause. “No wonder you were exhausted.” 
That wasn’t the reason you drank last night, but he didn’t need to know that.  
You shrugged, watching him. The way he knew where everything was. The way he moved through your kitchen like he belonged there. Because he did. 
Mingyu set a plate in front of you before settling into the chair across from you. He picked up his fork but didn’t eat right away, just watching you for a beat. 
“You really need a break,” he muttered, mostly to himself. Then, his eyes flickered to yours, and something shifted in his expression. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Or maybe just… new clothes.” 
You blinked. “What?” 
He gestured vaguely toward you. “I mean, I knew you had a couple of my things, but—” He gave you a pointed look. “At this point, half of your closet is mine. I could practically  move in here.” 
You almost choked on your food. 
That little shit. 
Mingyu leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “You know, I always wondered where my stuff kept disappearing to.” He tilted his head, pretending to think. “For a while, I actually believed I had a hole in my closet.” 
You swallowed your bite. “Weird. Sounds like a you problem.” 
He scoffed. “Oh, really?” 
You nodded, keeping your face blank. “Mhm. No clue what you’re talking about.” 
His gaze flickered over you, his smirk deepening. “So, you’re telling me my hoodies just magically disappeared? Along with my t-shirts? And my beanie? And—” 
“Okay, okay,” you cut in, groaning. “Maybe your clothes are just… way too comfortable. Not my fault they’re basically begging to be stolen.” 
“Begging,” he repeated, like he was tasting the word. 
“Yes.” You met his eyes, feigning innocence. “I don’t see the issue.” 
Mingyu let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.” 
You smirked, tilting your head. “And yet, you still let me steal your stuff.” 
He exhaled through his nose, picking at his food. “I don’t let you. You just take it.” 
“Semantics.”  
Mingyu rolled his eyes, but there was something in his expression—something warm, something familiar. 
For a moment, it almost felt normal again. Like the weird tension from before had settled into something softer. Something easier. 
But then his eyes lingered on you a second too long. 
And suddenly, it was back. 
That unspoken thing between you. 
Neither of you acknowledged it. 
You just kept eating. 
And Mingyu? 
Mingyu was so, so screwed. 
Your phone started ringing. Hoshi was calling. 
We were screwed. 
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By the time evening settled in, you had changed into something comfortable—his clothes, to be exact. He was still here, lingering in your space, and for a few fleeting hours, everything felt right. As if this was how it was always meant to be. As if this was your everyday. But deep down, a small voice whispered, warning you not to get used to it. 
After dinner,  Mingyu is still here. 
You’re in the kitchen, washing dishes side by side like it’s nothing, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hand brushes against yours when he reaches for a plate, and it’s almost too quick to register. But you don’t pull away. Neither does he. 
He leans against the counter, arms crossed loosely, watching you as you load the dishes into the dishwasher. His voice breaks the silence, low and casual, but there’s an edge to it, something like hesitation. 
“Do you still have a headache?” 
Before you can speak, he’s close. His presence fills the space between you. His left hand gently presses against your forehead.. His right hand moves to your neck, fingers brushing lightly over your skin.  
You barely notice it at first, but when you shift slightly, you feel it—your back pressing against the counter. Mingyu is so close, standing in front of you, subtly caging you in You can barely breathe. You don’t know what’s worse: the fact that he’s so close, or the fact that you want him closer.  
Your voice falters when you answer. "I’m fine now. It’s... better." You watch as Mingyu’s face softens in an instant at your words. 
Neither of you moves, standing close, too close.  
Mingyu’s lips quirk into a grin, but there’s a hint of something more in his voice. “My clothes look good on you. I should let you steal them more often.” 
You laugh, but it’s breathless. You stretch up, reaching for his face, your fingers brushing his skin. You squint your eyes, making a playful face. “I’d do it anyway. Don’t need your permission.” 
Mingyu chuckles, but his gaze shifts, sharpening just enough for you to notice. He steps closer. The warmth radiating off his body, the faint brush of his leg against yours, the way his chest is so close that if you just leaned in the smallest bit, you'd be pressed against him. It’s intoxicating. You don’t even realize you’ve stopped breathing for a second until you force yourself to inhale, only to take in the faint scent of him—clean, familiar, utterly Mingyu. 
He watches you with an intensity that makes the room feel smaller, more intimate. His eyes flicker to your lips, and that’s when it happens—the hesitation. Heswallows hard, fighting the urge to close the distance entirely. He’s trying—really trying—to resist, to keep this from crossing a line neither of you can come back from. But it’s impossible when you’re looking at him like that, when your body is so close, when the scent of you wrapped in his clothes makes his head spin. 
And then, he inches closer, almost without thinking, and his lips brush against yours—just the lightest touch, so soft that it could almost be a breath. Your body tenses, and for a second, everything stills.  
But fuck, it’s enough to send heat coursing through his veins. 
His lips are soft, teasing, brushing lightly against yours. The kiss is slow, barely there, but enough to leave you gasping for more. 
You inhale sharply, your breath mixing with his. You don’t move away. If anything, you shift closer, your body reacting before your mind can catch up. 
His lips linger, hovering, teasing. Testing. 
His self-control is hanging by a thread. 
He tells himself to stop. You were loosing yourself in it. You- 
- Ding Dong 
The sound of the doorbell rings, slicing through the tension. You both freeze. The world shifts back into focus. The heat, the closeness, everything evaporates in an instant. 
You step back, your breath coming in uneven gasps. Mingyu looks away, running a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure. 
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skunkes · 3 days ago
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i loooove when ocs unrealized development makes them feel like real people like no i dont know whether talon is genuinely attracted to women after years of both clinging to them for safety and years of putting them onto that untouchable idealized Perfect Protector Pedestal that must remain untainted by any bad experiences, so he doesn't even try to Be With any. He doesn't know either
#like i heart bisexual men so part of me is like no yeah he does like women. he literally loves women#>what if this is just love as general blind devotion solely on the basis of them not being men#we all know he likes men without much of what would be societal shame but he still grapples with it in that personal way#in the if i like men it means i like them despite what happened to me -> i secretly like what happened to me way#talon like i like men and women but i could never spend my eternal life with a man. as a way to just focus on one thing (finding said women#instead of letting himself think about anything else at all#oc text#ill let it float into my mind but idk because this would mess up his original plot before i kept him#though tbh i want to keep keeping him idk if ill ever let him go back home ykwim. long gone concept at dis point he's mine now. ours#talkys#also this makes things more interesting too in the way of#well it was previously thought that talon has a great interest in [smunker] because of smunkers Body#a sort of unintentional and subconscious rejecting of [smunker's] gender and seeing him#as not a man#now its like. what if its not that. it rly is just sole attraction to men because well al is also a pretty feminine guy#views challenged because no‚ men one way (bad) and women another way (good)#but theres TWO guys here who exhibit femininity so he's like wait hold onnnnnn waittttt#that subconscious conflict still exists though in the fearing al (at first) due to his body and both terrorizing and clinging to [smunker]#because of his#the terrorizing because talon sees his original self in smunker (weak and youthful‚ cherubic‚ naive)#theres so many layerssss#anyway yes. loving women as in of course i love women. beautiful and they keep me safe#but not in any way further than that... i love them i can and will kiss them and do much more but it doesnt feel The Same#i dont think i actually even have any fully gay guy characters [EXCEPT MAYBE THE SELF? LMAO IDK] bc i love bisexual men so much#groundbreaking...#wait sorry more oc rambling this actually would also make sense too because how i imagine talon with women is exaggerated#complete personality change to be pleasant and pliable and you can do whatever you want to me#when its also known that the reason he ''acts out'' with al and [smunker] is because he feels safe enough to drop any and all masks to do s#hmmmmmmmm i must keep thinking
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tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang · 10 hours ago
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Hii do u have any headcannons for reader being Baji's little sister and Mikey having a huge crush on her, but Baji is like suuuper protective of her and refuses anyone from the gang to date her because him being her brother is already dangerous as is, I hope this ask isn't too complicated 😅
Ok I set this in the good timeline and there's also two endings. We have the sfw ending which is with all the other hc's and we have the nsfw ending which is clearly labelled at the end. You guys can choose which ending you want to read (the bullet point with the star is where you should switch if you only want the nsfw ending).
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Baji is very very vocal about the rules around his little sister, makes it very clear to all the guys that you're off limits and "too good for all of them anyway".
Unfortunately for Baji though, he's keeping an eye on the wrong ex gang members. He eyes the way Hakkai blushes to you, chases Kazutora and Hanma for saying they plan on dating you (they're actually just teasing Baji), raises his eyebrow at how friendly Chifuyu is with you and yells at the Haitani's for trying their pick up lines on you. The point is Baji is so distracted by the others that he never sees Mikey coming until it's too late. 
Mikey starts off simple, just getting you alone one day and asking you what you really thought about your brother's "rules". And as he watches you giggle and call Baji caring but too overprotective, he thinks he falls even more in love. 
And so operation "make y/n fall in love with Mikey" begins. Of course Mikey assembles a mini team for this. Including Draken (he think this is an awful idea and Baji will kill them all), Emma (she thinks the two of you will be cute together), Takemichi (he is very scared of the consequences of doing this), Sanzu (anything for Mikey) and Kisaki (has no idea why he's here and thinks this is a waste of time). Of course these meetings don't do much but Mikey does get some advice.
You start getting mini anonymous presents daily, always pretty or thoughtful things, the card is always just signed with a heart. (Baji is very concerned when he finds out).
Mikey also comes up with elaborate plans to get you alone so the two of you can hang out and get to know each other more. These mostly involve distracting Baji in some way, either by telling someone to hang out with him or by telling him a cat needs his help a few miles away. Baji falls for it everytime, rushing off and leaving you alone. 
He's very touchy with you whenever the two of you are together. He'll happily hold your hand, hug you and lean his head on your shoulder if he gets tired.
Also loves to take you for rides on his bike, Baji barely ever let's you ride with him because of the risk so Mikey figures it's up to him to show you how much fun it is (the feeling of you clinging to him is great too). 
Mikey really likes hanging out with you and get's a little sad whenever it ends but he can't risk Baji seeing this, not yet.
He takes you to the sea often too, sharing a taiyaki with you and talking about anything that comes to mind. It's here that he finally confesses to you and here where the two of you share your first kiss after you confess back to him too. 
You two become experts at secret dates and secret looks at each other. 
Even in front of Baji the two of you find ways to flirt and be affectionate with each other. Mikey whispering you a compliment as he walks past you. You telling Mikey he dropped something but when he picks up the paper it's just a note from you telling him how much you miss him during these big gatherings. Baji never even suspects anything at all.
It is a little difficult hiding your relationship at times but the two of you feel like you could do this forever but of course nothing can last forever.
☆It was a pretty big day for the two of you, Baji had gone on an out of town trip, leaving you alone in your shared apartment. So of course you took the opportunity to invite Mikey over.
The two of you had just settled down to watch a movie, happily sharing a blanket and cuddling when Baji walked in. Turns out the trip had been cancelled but that's nothing compared to the chaos that was about to go down.
Baji stands there for a moment, staring in disbelief at his oldest friend and his baby sister together. You and Mikey stare back in shock, no one daring to move until Baji opens his mouth to start yelling or talking. You're not sure what he was about to say because before he could get even a word out Mikey launched a pillow at his face, giving himself a head start to start running.
Baji very quickly shot out of the apartment after Mikey all while yelling "MY SISTER!!!!" You watch them for a moment before sighing and calling Draken. Before then calling Ryoko, if anyone could talk sense into your brother it was definitely your mother. 
After Draken (and Mitsuya, who he brought along as backup) separated them and Baji got yelled at down the phone by Ryoko a truce was made. You and Mikey could date and Baji wouldn't kill him if you kept all of that relationship stuff away from him and out of sight. It was a lot better then either you or Mikey had expected (largely thanks to Ryoko) so you both happily agreed. Holding hands and walking off together to Mikey's apartment this time (all while Baji yelled about how holding hands counts as "relationship stuff"). 
Nsfw ending
It was a pretty big day for the two of you, Baji had gone on an out of town trip, leaving you alone in your shared apartment. So of course you took the opportunity to invite Mikey over.
Eager to see and feel each other, things got steamy very quickly. Mikey was just in the middle of thrusting into you, in and out, getting lost in the warm, velvety feeling of your walls. While you were letting small moans and whimpers slip as Mikey went deeper, hitting your spot and making you see stars everytime. Both of you were so close and lost in each other that neither of you heard the key in the door or the door swing open. You moaned as it finally became all too much and you came, the feeling pushing Mikey over the edge with a groan as he releases his thick load into you. Neither you get to enjoy it for long though as Baji announces his presence with a dangerous growl.
Mikey frantically tries to cover you before putting his clothes on in record time and racing out of the door with Baji quickly pursuing him. All while he yells "MY SISTER!???? AND ON MY SOFA!?????" 
Putting some clothes on and cleaning up the mess as quick as you can, you frantically run after them. Who knows what Baji will do to Mikey after seeing that, whatever it is you need to stop it.
You think you're getting close as you hear raised voices but suddenly your wrist is being grabbed and some strang man is holding you still.
"Hey I recognise you! You're Baji Keisuke's sister, yeah. That fucker beat me up years ago, made me lose my gang and my reputation, I've always wanted to make him pay..."
You only see the knife for a second before it's being kicked out of the guys hands and you're being pulled away. Baji holds you in his arms, both of you needing that comfort while Mikey knocks the guy out. They worked together to save you and without knowing it, Mikey proved he's more then capable of keeping you safe. 
He's still a little reluctant but Baji gives you his blessing, after muttering about needing to bleach his eyes out. 
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sillygoofyqueer · 1 day ago
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So, originally Crowyuan occured when Bingge was already Demon Emperor, then came the idea of him becoming known as the Corvid King while Binghe was still a little disciple. What if he transmigrates and becomes known as the Corvid King before Binghe is even born? What if he finds this poor abused slave boy and decides This Is Mine Now before realising Oops! He's taken the scum villain under his wing, metaphorically and possibly physically too. Too bad, that's his son/little brother now. Oh but what if he transmigrates a little earlier and it goes the same except it's with both Shen Jiu AND Yue Qi? Or with all the other slave children too because he feels bad just saving two, even if those two are the only ones relevant to the original plot?
Wow....the Original™ Crowyuan timeline........back in the good old days where I didn't have so many different AUs to think about.....(/silly I love them all) ANYWAY. Corvid King crowyuan would definitely stumble across the street kids - he gains B-points n shit through answering prayers and gaining followers, so of course he's going to listen to the prayers of some poor little street children with nowhere else to go. It's not like he doesn't have the means to look after them, whether that be giving them to couples who badly want a child but can't have one for whatever reason, or placing them into orphanages that he funds himself (note: they don't know that he's funding it, they just believe there's a generous rich person donating whenever they need the money). However, when he's dealing with this new band of street kids, there is one child who just....does not want to let go of him. He scorns Crowyuan's existence when the deity first finds them in the alleys, offering gentle words of reassurance despite the late hour and leading the children along (yes, "Come Little Children" style, what kind of animal do you take me for?). Unlike the other naïve idiots, Shen Jiu and Yue Qi have seen this played out before. A stranger comes in the night, promising food and a home and love, and those who follow are found not long after. Dead. Crowyuan watches on in...a mixture of respect and worry as one of the children tries to explain the danger of following strangers in the night to the others, and another stands back and watches it happen, scorn clear upon his face. These children should not know the harsh dangers of life, not so young, but it is good that at least two of them are smart enough to not trust strangers, even if that isn't necessary in this instance. So, he offers proof of who he is. He sits down and tells them who he is, and he makes them pray, so he can listen to what they want. The snappy, unimpressed child doesn't, he just glares and scoffs when his friend drops his head down, but then shifts as if to protect him if necessary. When he respond's to this friend's prayer aloud - "Xiao-Jiu would be happy and safe in a bed, I think" - everyone seems to startle. (Of course, he has to repeat this exercise many times until this snappish child, this 'Xiao-Jiu', finally relents). He finally is able to lead these children to a nearby orphanage, ran by people who could do so much good with just the right amount of gold, and he drops them off there along with a pouch filled with gold. However, when he turns to leave, Xiao-Jiu clings to him. He stares up at him with a sort of fury in his eyes, demanding to know who he thinks he is, ditching them after dumping them off with these random people. A street child who speaks to a god, whose fear of being left by his saviour outweighs his fear of the power this creature wields, and does not hesitate to cling to this deity's robes with his dirty hands.
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cute-firelight · 2 days ago
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I liked Caitvi in Season 2.
That said, that doesn’t mean I think their development is perfect.
For me what failed and felt kinda underwhelming was how the reuniting was done. It felt like as nothing had happened and they were like: oh! Well, You are here. And also Cait hiting Vi there again was not ok after what had happened. Like, that reuniting would have worked if the separation between them was less dramatic.
But for me, the rest of the development was handled very well and compensated that (the wording here is critical: FOR ME, if for other people is not enough is fine).
I liked the rawness of the impulsivity of what Caitlyn did, because honestly Cait was sooo bad but in general all their interactions after the bombing were really one sided from Caitlyn’s part, things were wrong since the start. The hit was just the culmination of all of it.
She convinced Vi to join the enforcers even with how hard was for her, then Vi begs her not to change, clinging to how Cait used to be when they met; but she now was in a complete another headspace.
You know, in the past I had a pretty bad moment psychologically, where my personality changed a lot. I felt like a genuine monster, I am not kidding. I never hit anyone but my behaviour still was totally not ok with my bf. I went to therapy, my boyfriend supported me and understood me, for my surprise, and now we have a very healthy relationship where I am a very supportive partner and we are both very happy with each other. It was all originated form insecurities and trauma, and because of that experience I can understand that ironically Cait felt powerless at that moment.
My interpretation of it is: she felt that the suit was big for her, but she had to wear it anyway to solve her mistake. In this mindstate she forces Vi to be an enforcer because she thinks is the same she is doing: wearing a suit she doesn’t want, and even if she doesn’t feel like it, because the situation requires to. Her dad did a hideous job at making her feel more guilty and more obligated to answer to it. Ofc I know you will say: but Vi’s trauma with enforcers is different than Cait’s with her mother and yes that is true. But is part of Cait blindness to the situation because of her mental state.
Then, Vi becomes an enforcer because she feels pressured to (this also probably needed a little bit of more showing and justification but I don’t see it unlikely).
They are hunting people with gas and all what it takes to solve everything is Cait to capture Jynx, this is a lot of pressure, she is dealing with the duel and everything at the same time. That moment of weakness and aggression from Cait was framed in a very specific situation when all the things that were pressuring her collapsed in one instant. Yes, her hitting embodied that privilege, and brutality but wasn’t that what they were already doing? I feel that is kinda the point? Cait there was perpetuating the system in where she was in by trying to hunt Jynx and by making all this gassing and stuff, and she felt forced to do it because of duty and guilt, and also that made her feel powered against her pain. Idk I liked that they dared to be so raw and harsh. (Basically, what I want to say here is that what you said about not being just a normal betrayal but a symbolism of their privilege difference and oppression I think that this was intentionally intended, I don’t understand the American lens comment bc I am not from the US)
What I would change of that scene maybe is the way the hit was done, because honestly the first time I watched I thought that she had broken a rib and let Vi injured. Sooo, maybe, not having Cait hit Vi at all and just to push her away and run. Then Vi would try to run after Cait again and in that moment Cait would threaten to hit Vi with the gun, then Vi would froze because that would remind her of her trauma and Cait would tell her about not wanting to see her again or hate her or something and to take the chance and run away (this scene could work both if the hit happens or not).
I wouldn’t rate her dark ark/redemption as perfect. Those are very very difficult to do but is not the worse I have seen. Again, if for you was enough or not is something more personal in my opinion.
Lastly, the ending of their arc makes a lot of sense. Cait said: fuck it. If she releases Jynx I don’t care, is not only Jynx’s fault but also my fault because I also couldn’t handle the situation between us properly. If there are more consequences I will face them.
Ambessa was a bigger threat than Jynx and I made her grow and she made the conflict worse. So basically: we both are the same. Cait trusted Vi’s judgement, something she didn’t do at the beginning by being super patronizing and saying how wrong she was, what was right to choose for her to do etc.. here she acknowledges Vi’s agency and lets her choose, with that Vi sees that the Caitlyn she fell for was still there. Caitlyn in general was very humbled down by the entire situation and she got to really grasp the power behind her privilege and how she affected things for the worse being even worse than Jynx in terms of consequences.
I want to say here, that I think that a lot of people wouldn’t have forgiven Cait, and that is valid. But Vi’s personality is like that. I think she is a person that is forgiving by nature, and she also has done terribly bad mistakes and this is why she forgives her. I know this would be less polemic if they were equals and that the show’s handling of inequality could have been way better. But I still liked it. I think their relationship will always have this inequality element ingrained with it; but the value of it is that they are able to see who each of them are beyond that. Also, I don’t see their relationship perfect after everything ended. I think that they still are going to need a lot of work to build a relationship.
Is sad that they didn’t let the writers of S1 be here as well, because I think that it would have helped to have more opinions of ways that some of the scenes could have been interpreted and dissected, besides the way they intended and I think that very small modifications to all of it would have improved it a lot. Because honestly the base of all of it is pretty solid and I feel that most people grudges about it are for details that feel too much or are out of place.
I feel that fans that defend Cait’s actions are also not ok, because the point of Cait’s arc is that is a dark arc. Characters that make mistakes are the ones that make a good dramatic story about how everyone’s context determine the way they act and how no matter how they try they can’t undo it. This traces back to Season 1 themes as well and is clear it was intended since the start. The execution and delivery are the reasons why it doesn’t work for everyone in my opinion.
for my own sanity, i try to stay away from caitvi discourse, but it’s truly baffling that some people still actively defend caitlyn hitting vi and are "dumbfounded" that it is enough for people to stop shipping them and voice their discontent about their relationship in s2.
one of the most common and dumb defenses i’ve seen is that caitlyn only hit vi once, as if the frequency of the act changes its nature. even a single instance of violence is still violence. highlighting that it happened only once does not negate its significance. it still happened, and it still matters. really, it's simple ...
but the dumbest attempt to defend this moment is comparing caitvi to other ships in arcane, when no other relationship in the series has a similar dynamic. in other pairings that involve physical conflict, both characters fight back or retaliate in some way, whether it’s jinx and ekko, viktor and jayce, or even vander and silco. but caitlyn hitting vi is entirely one-sided. vi does not hit back, and it is not framed as a fight. this moment is not a confrontation between equals but an instance of caitlyn exerting power over vi, someone who has already been through a lot of trauma (years of imprisonment and being beaten by enforcers), which caitlyn is very aware of.
but that’s if you watch arcane as a whole and not just for the relationship, because caitlyn hitting vi is a moment charged with systemic inequality. caitlyn represents the very institution that destroyed vi’s life. when she strikes her, it's not just an individual betrayal, it echoes the violence of an entire system that has oppressed zaunites for generations. it’s impossible to disregard that the historical and social power imbalance makes the scene feel so disturbing if you actually watch the show with your eyes open.
and it’s a major red flag. for caitlyn to hit vi, knowing what she has been through, is not just an act of violence but one that disregards the weight of vi’s suffering. she fails to see vi fully, not just as somebody willing to help her, a potential partner, or a fighter, but as someone wounded by her past.
also, i take back what i said about the dumbest attempt to defend this scene being comparing caitvi to other ships. the dumbest one is when people minimize caitlyn's action by defending the enforcers in general ... because no, the idea that the backlash against caitlyn hitting vi in arcane is simply a matter of an “american lens” is dumb asf. a lot of what's in the show mirrors the kind of systemic violence seen in many parts of the world, not just in the usa. y'all are not exceptional. class struggles, institutionalized oppression, and the abuse of power by those who hold privilege aren't exclusive to america. please wake up. these are themes that transcend national and cultural boundaries. vi’s trauma from imprisonment is not an american experience alone. the psychological and physical toll of being incarcerated is universal. how dumb do you have to be to actually think otherwise?
anyway, even if i don’t like that arcane didn’t frame caitlyn’s action as a serious issue and that it is treated as just another moment in their relationship, the willingness to ignore or rationalize it says more about the fandom’s biases than the actual content of the show imo ...
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xxepherr · 1 day ago
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i have another hasan fic idea!! (if your open to requests)
reader is a popstar and releases a surprise single (like "nasty" or "positions" by ariana grande) and he reacts to it on stream and is blushing and flustered listening to it🤭
.ೃ࿐SURPRISE SINGLE
summary — in which you drop a surprise single conveniently while hasan is streaming, and that means he has to react to it on principle.
pairings — hasan piker x popstar!reader (established relationship)
pronouns — none
word count — 1750
note — i am SO open to requests!!!!! i don't personally think he'd blush but i think he'd get flustered word-wise if that makes sense. like SUPER caught off guard by it all. not my best work but i tried </3
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WOULD HASAN CONSIDER YOU a closed off person? no. you weren't necessarily secretive either, so when you kept yourself locked away in the studio hasan had put together for you, your head in the clouds for months, he knew something was up.
he wasn't sure what exactly, just that your hands were constantly covered in pen ink by dinner time, and that you hummed the same tune as a mellow afterthought. or the way you disappeared "to the studio" but you never took your notebook with you, and usually came home with your hair a different way or covered in stray glitter.
hasan paid attention, he knew you had an album you were working on that was due to be released later in the year, but you were never this quiet about it. you bounced ideas off him, you let him sit in the studio with you and brainstorm what sound you wanted until you got distracted and gave it up for the day. it was the reason why you usually went to a proper recording studio with producers more often than needed.
either way, he trusted you. he didn't want to pry as much as it would ease the constant itch in his brain. you'd lost quite a bit in simply just dating him in the first place — people didn't like the fact that you were dating a political commentator, but you moved past it fairly easily. ignorance was truly key to happiness. you were happy.
it was like any other day. you woke up, put kaya's harness on her and held the unattached leash separately ( just in case you ran into other dogs and their owners on the way ) and went out for a run on your normal circuit in the neighbourhood. when you got back, you kissed your boyfriend through the car window as he left to go meet his personal trainer at the gym. you made a simple breakfast of cereal and fruit and retreated back to what austin had started calling your cave.
it was for one last time in a while, just to prepare a few things so that you could immediately promote the single once it dropped. it was all lined up and awaited the click of a button . . . just hours from now. you felt jittery with excitement, the secret of a few months so close to being exposed to millions.
HASAN came home and did as he usually did — ate a ridiculously protein fueled meal, took a shower, prepared his things for stream, and then joined you for an episode of the show you were currently watching. in fairness, it was the first time in a while he'd joined you or the show part of that plan, something he was incredibly confused about but not exactly bothered by. it was nice, cuddled up together on the couch, sharing moments together that weren't meals or naps or brief moments you'd bring his food to him while he was locked in on whatever he was talking about on stream.
"i have to get up," hasan's chuckle was breathy, his fingers trying to pry your hands off his bicep. you clung to him with all the strength you had, a whine building in the back of your throat.
"five more minutes," you sighed. you both knew five minutes turned to ten which then turned to at least thirty. once he had been a whole two hours late because you wouldn't let go of him, all to the point where he considered just streaming with you clinging to him like a backpack. he wouldn't, of course, but it was definitely still a thought. he knew you wouldn't care anyway, your lyrics were quite . . . questionable and anyone could decipher what your relationship was like without having to physically see it.
"you wouldn't give me five minutes when you were off being secretive," he challenged lightly, eyes rolling in a playful manner. "i promise i'll take more breaks than usual to come see you," it was a common form of negotiation in situations such as these, one you couldn't argue with.
if you were interested, you'd sit in the chair off camera that murat usually sat in, or you'd sit in the armchair he put in the room just for you to read a book while he chatted politics. you wouldn't be doing that today, not even popping in for a quick hello to ask him something like you normally did. not today.
you let go of his arm, doing so in a way that made it look like he'd finally pried your hands away, and pressed your lips against his cheek. "fine . . ." you drawled in mock disappointment. "go do your job or whatever."
he laughed, standing up from the plush couch and disappearing around the corner. you tapped on your phone, the wallpaper of you and hasan posing with his mum in front of a gingerbread house from christmas last year greeting you with the time. you had a few hours to kill before the single's release, and so in the meantime you could tidy up a few things before his parents arrived later tonight.
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HASAN, DESPITE POPULAR BELIEF, didn't actually get annoyed as easily as perceived. things had to pile up and really push every single one of his buttons to create an outburst, and one thing that certainly did that was some dumbass spamming the same thing over and over.
"dude, i can't fucking stand dumbasses like this," he sputtered out his usual rant, one that at least half of his chat could probably recite word for word. "shut the fu—" he cut himself off when he opened the link in a separate tab, a snippet of a sound he hadn't heard before paired with what he knew was footage of the richard nixon presidential library. the part that caught him off guard was that your youtube channel's name was displayed at the bottom as he paused it.
oh. it all made so much sense now. all the hours spent holed up in your studio . . . all the hidden secrets and the sudden shutting of your notebook whenever you were close enough . . . oh.
"okay," hasan cleared his throat, dragging it over to the main screen. he didn't make a big spectacle on unbanning the person who spammed the link because how could he be mad? and set the music video back to the beginning. he couldn't not watch it, not when he'd reacted to all your other songs and music videos on stream. "quick break so we can watch this."
heaven sent you to me, i'm just hopin' i don't repeat history.
already, he was justifying it in his head as if he really had to. the title, positions, had him a little nervous as if you hadn't written suggestive songs about your relationship before. it was a little more obvious in the target demographic ( himself, mainly ) when you, in the music video, were clearly meant to be depicted as the president of the united states.
boy, i'm tryna meet your mama on a sunday. then make a lotta love on a monday.
okay, it shouldn't have been a huge deal. it wasn't. once again, this was no different from what you had written before, if anything, this was probably more toned back. even with that, the fact that he had no warning about you dropping this song whatsoever had his face feeling warm at the contents.
switchin' them positions for you, cookin' in the kitchen and i'm in the bedroom . . .
he was uncharacteristically silent through the rest of the song, not glancing away from the video on his monitor. not even to stare at either one of his chat that he had open. he only snapped out of his daze when the lyrics begun to fade and the door to the room swung open.
"thoughts?" he heard your voice before he saw you, a skip in your step as you made it over to stand behind his chair. you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, eyes scanning the chat that he had finally started scrolling through again like he wasn't just at a loss for words.
"uh, i, uh," he stuttered momentarily, clearing his throat. the messages he scrolled through were turning into various greetings directed at you. you giggled softly in his ear too quiet for his mic to pick up. "you were fucking amazing, when aren't you?" he just managed to grasp his bearings, looking at you through his monitor.
"aw, i think your face is even a little pink," you leaned even closer, squinting as if to try see it through his beard. tone riddled with tease, "did i do all that?"
hasan glanced away, scoffing out a laugh that you knew was the result of him feeling flustered. he was never super vocal whenever he was embarrassed, but all the signs were there. his body heat had skyrocketed, and he twisting one of his silver rings with one hand while tapping the desk with his other. mission accomplished, you supposed. the secret song was all worth it to witness this.
"thought you'd appreciate me being the president," you shrugged, a grin spreading across your face when he didn't answer "would i be the hottest president ever?"
"mhm, i don't know," he pretended to think, "have you seen obama? man, he could hit a three."
you turned your head slowly, your eyes locking with the obama cutout leaning against the wall behind the small cutout of queen elizabeth and bernie sanders. on numerous occasions when you sat in the room while he was working or when they used to do the podcast in here, you would have to get up and turn it around so you didn't feel like obama was staring into your soul.
"yeah, okay," rolling your eyes, you straightened back up, mindlessly lifting your hands up to fluff up the back of his hair. "i'll let you get back to talking about . . ." you glanced at his other monitor, "elon musk." the face you pulled was enough to show your subtle disgust because you knew one word would have your pr bombarding your phone and you didn't really want to deal with that today.
"i'll take an encore of positions later," hasan added as an afterthought as your fingers left his hair and you waved goodbye to his stream.
"of the song or . . ." you raised an eyebrow at him, and he winked at you in response.
"surprise me."
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