#who is quite literally your mirror image

[mitskiluvr]

oh okay like obviously after akechi dies in the engine room joker literally lays awake in bed thinking about him O.K. Like of course. Which could mean nothing. Obviously.

[alsofoundinpeas]

In the Blink of a Lens

Summary: When Spencer Reid finally succumbs to technology and gets a smartphone, he takes a tentative step into the digital world by sending his best friend (and colleague) Y/N a picture. What starts as an innocent attempt to embrace modern tech leaves Y/N flustered as the seemingly innocent gesture forces her to confront feelings she’s been ignoring for years. Neither of them is prepared for the powerful impact of a single, innocent photo as the lines between friendship and something more start to blur.

(AKA Spencer sends the above selfie and reader gets horny because his hand is quite literally swallowing the phone HAHAHA)

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Hand kink/fixation. Overstimulation. Oral (both m and f receiving). Fingering. Unprotected sex/P in V sex (do as I say not as I do and STAY PROTECTED IRL!!). Dirty talk/praise kink. Softdom!Spencer and bratty!sub!reader. Some religious phrasing (because who are fanfic writers really without it?) Pull-out method used (again, do as I say not as I do!!) Very brief mention of a sex toy (doesn't get used). Fluffy smut. Two idiots in love/best friends to lovers trope. <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader/afab!reader

A/N: This is my humble contribution to the Spencer Reid hand kink supremacy (no but seriously how are his hands THAT attractive??). This is kinda sorta an AU I guess because I wrote this with season four Reid in mind but I'm not sure (and Google will not give me a clear answer) if that type of iPhone was around then so let's just pretend it was for the sake of the fic pls. :') Also the "Sincerely, Spencer Reid" was a direct nod to B99's very own Raymond Holt because I could definitely see him and Spence handling tech the same way LMAO. As always, please tell me what you think! :) If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends! <3 Thank you and I love you all :) (I also ask that my work not be uploaded to other platforms or translated without my explicit permission. Thank you!)

Am I doing this selfie thing right? Sincerely, Spencer Reid

The screen felt almost blinding in the dim lighting of Y/N's bedroom as she stared slack-jawed at the image open on her phone.

Spencer finally upgraded to a smartphone a week ago after an unfortunate crash to the ground (stupid raised sidewalk) shattered the old flip phone that had long ago earned him the nickname "Grandpa" from his pain-in-the-ass-loving best friend. Y/N had never seen a man so devastated over losing what was essentially a brick that made calls, so to cheer him up, she helped him pick out a new phone and set it up.

She was beginning to regret that decision as she gawked at the selfie Spencer had sent.

It was sweet—an innocent photo of him sitting in his car, just after finishing the paperwork he’d insisted on handling alone, despite her offers to help. He'd banished her to her apartment, as stubborn as ever. The shot was taken in his rearview mirror, a faint grin tugging at his lips, his maple-toned eyes obscured by the phone. There was nothing about the image that should have made her pulse quicken. But when the realization hit her, a rush of warmth flooded her face.

It was his hand.

His hand seemed almost too big for the phone, dwarfing it as he snapped the picture. It wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed how large his hands were—everyone did—but she’d never given it much thought. Until now. Watching the way his fingers effortlessly swallowed the device, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. There was something about the sheer size of his hand, the way it seemed to overpower the phone, that made her suddenly hyper-aware of every detail.

His fingers were long, elegant, and well-cared-for; fingers that seemed capable of touching parts of her she'd never been able to reach on her own—

No. No, no, no. There was absolutely no way she was having these thoughts about Spencer Reid. Spencer, her endearingly awkward best friend of four years. Her rock. Her partner in the field. The man she’d always thought of as just that—nothing more. Well...

Y/N did have a crush on him once, in the earliest stages of their friendship. But it was just a small, silly, unreciprocated crush that she locked away in the deepest parts of her subconscious so that she could at least still be his friend. She accepted that it would never happen and moved on. Or she thought she had...

A muffled curse leaves Y/N's lips as she realizes she never responded, her thumbs hovering over the keyboard as she struggles to think of a response. Since when has she ever struggled to talk to Spencer? Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with her tonight? Was she ovulating?

Y/N: Next time, show off those pretty brown eyes of yours and you've got it down pat :)

Okay... That sounded way flirtier than she intended... But that's how they usually joked with each other, right? She was just overthinking everything because she was exhausted from their most recent case. That's it.

Y/N: Also... why have you not put your phone case on yet?? You're practically begging for another sidewalk incident to happen, Grandpa.

That's better. That feels normal.

She sets her phone down on her nightstand, picking up her abandoned book to continue reading. Y/N's heart rate is almost back to normal when her phone's ringtone blaring startles her, the book falling to her lap with a muted thud. An annoyed groan rumbles in her throat as she reaches over to grab the device, internally praying it wasn't Hotch calling with another case. They had JUST gotten back from Ohio not even six hours ago and she just wanted to rest—

To her surprise, it was Spencer calling.

"It's awfully late for you to be calling, Grandpa," Y/N drawled as she answered the call, her lips curling up into a grin as she heard Spencer scoff on the other line. "Shouldn't you be in bed by now?"

"I am in bed," Spencer grumbled in response, and she could hear some shuffling as he got comfortable. "And I put the case on right after I sent the selfie, thank you very much. Speaking of, did you know that the origin of selfies was actually believed to be..."

Spencer launched into a thorough explanation of not only the origins of selfies but also a detailed account of why self-portraits came about. Y/N hung onto every word, just as she always did when he spoke. Most people found his rambling to be annoying, but not her. She thought it was fascinating how much information he kept tucked away in that brain of his and was more than willing to listen and ask questions about anything he blurted out.

The conversation stretches on for another hour, neither of them wanting to be the one to end it. It’s not until the fifth yawn escapes Spencer that Y/N finally chuckles into the phone before reluctantly saying goodnight. Spencer’s voice is warm as he wishes her sweet dreams, and the call ends with the soft beep of disconnecting. And, for the first time in a long while, sweet dreams she did have…

"Does that feel good? Hm, pretty girl?" Spencer murmured into her ear as she writhed between his spread legs, her bare back pressed flush to his clothed chest.

The night had started with celebratory drinks after finally closing one of their more grueling cases, the team getting some much-needed relaxation and bonding in. Spencer was Y/N's designated driver as per usual since he didn't drink, instead choosing to nurse a soda as he eyed Y/N down from across the booth.

He was directly across from her, snugly between Derek and Hotch. But he wasn't paying attention to them. His eyes had been fixated on her from the moment she'd come back from the bar with Emily and Penelope, tracing the contours of her flushed face as she tipped her head back and took another shot.

Y/N had no intentions of getting completely drunk, instead choosing to remain just tipsy enough to enjoy the warmth that flowed through her body from the alcohol and maintain a steady buzz. That way she could be aware of her surroundings while also enjoying herself and the company of her team.

The bar was dim, the pounding of her heartbeat matching the beat of the music bumping overhead as her gaze fell on Spencer. Her brows furrowed at the unabashedly hungry look in his eyes, her tongue poking out to wet her lips subconsciously. She had to have been hallucinating. There was no way he'd be looking at her like that... right?

But he had been. And that same look is exactly what led them to where they were now, with Spencer propped up against her headboard holding her at his mercy while his fingers pumped tirelessly into her drenched pussy. She was sure the sight of them was downright filthy, an erotic contrast of her completely bare body pressed against his fully clothed one.

Y/N was in shambles, her legs trembling as her nails dug uselessly into his thighs while soft whimpers and moans flowed freely from her kiss-swollen lips. Her mind was reeling, a dizzying mixture of the remaining alcohol in her system, the pleasure coiling tightly in her lower stomach, and the knowledge that it was Spencer causing said pleasure.

She was so, so close... just a few more strokes of his fingers and...

A sharp gasp sounded through the bedroom as Y/N jolted awake, her chest heaving as she shakily sat up to turn off her alarm. She blinked hard, attempting to clear the fog from her vision as she fell back into her pillows. The dull aching between her thighs served as a sore reminder of what she was so close to achieving in her dream...

Her eyes snapped open as the memory of the dream hit her like a tidal wave. Guilt, confusion, and sheer horror crashed over her, and she groaned, her hands dragging down her face in frustrated disbelief. She’d just had a dream—a wet dream—about Spencer Fucking Reid.

What had gotten into her?

Before she could dive too deep into why her crush on Spencer had apparently resurfaced with a vengeance after being dormant for so long, her phone dinged with a message from the genius himself. It felt like the universe was rubbing salt in the wound, taunting her for the forbidden thoughts she couldn’t seem to shake about her best friend.

Spence <3: Are you going to get coffee? Sincerely, Spencer Reid

Y/N snorted out a laugh at how he signed his text, shaking her head as she responded.

Y/N: ... Spence, you don't have to sign your name on each text. I have your number saved. And yes, I am :)

A minute passes before his response comes through.

Spence <3: Oh. Well then, can you also bring me coffee please?

Y/N: Of course I can <3

Her earlier guilt lingers in the pit of her stomach as she sets the phone down, rolling out of bed with a sigh to begin getting ready for work. How was she going to face him after having a dream like that? Maybe it was a fluke; a one-off occurrence manifested from her lack of sexual endeavors so her brain had no choice but to use Spencer as a fill-in for her fantasies.

Opting to pretend it never happened so she could face her best friend later, Y/N finished getting ready and left for the café, determined to get there on time for work.

The elevator dinged as Y/N strolled into the bullpen, her and Spencer's usual orders in hand and a soft smile on her face. Thankfully, today was a paperwork day—a task most of the team dreaded, but one Y/N welcomed. It gave her a chance to recover from the constant motion sickness from the jet and the relentless flirtations of the officers when they worked cases out of state.

"Mm, my very own coffee fairy!" Spencer grinned, setting down the stack of papers he’d been poring over. His eyes sparkled as she made her way across the room, finally meeting his gaze from across the desk as she stopped in front of him. "Have I ever told you you're the best?"

"Yes, you have," Y/N teased with a playful grin, holding out his coffee. "But I don’t mind hearing it more often."

Her dream, it seemed, hadn’t been a fluke, a realization that hits her as Spencer grabs his coffee. Her eyes involuntarily track the way his fingers curl around the Styrofoam cup, and a shiver runs up her spine when they inadvertently brush against hers. Her cheeks flush as she quickly pulls her gaze away, meeting his curious eyes instead.

"You feeling okay, Y/N? You look a little flushed," Spencer murmured, his brow furrowed in concern as he eyed her over the rim of his cup.

Y/N blinked, her heart pounding in her throat as she swallowed and nodded. The sight had sent her mind reeling, the memory of those same fingers buried deep inside of her in her dream the night before surfacing against her will.

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I'm fine I just-"

Before Y/N could finish stammering out her lame excuse, Morgan sauntered into the bullpen with Garcia, the pair immediately honing in on her and Spencer as they made their way over.

"Oh, c'mon Y/N! Seriously? Pretty boy here gets a coffee but the rest of us don't?" Morgan taunted, chuckling as Y/N reached out to playfully swat at his arm with an eye roll.

"Well obviously! He's her work husband," Penelope chimed in matter-of-factly, giggling as she wiggled her eyebrows. "It would mean a divorce was brewing if she didn't."

The team had started the joke years ago, teasing her and Spencer for being the youngest members and for how quickly they’d clicked. To everyone else, it was obvious their friendship ran deeper than either of the two realized. The problem was that neither one of them could see it. Some profilers they were.

No matter how many times the joke was made, Spencer’s face still turned bright red every single time.

"Har dee har har," Spencer scoffed, his eyes shifting to the cup still gripped in his hand.

The banter was cut short as Hotch stepped out of his office, everyone mumbling their goodbyes and scurrying back to their desks to get their work done. Y/N welcomed the distraction with open arms, diving into her work to try to get her mind off of her conflicted feelings towards her best friend.

All day long, Y/N fought the growing urge to watch Spencer’s hands, but it was impossible to ignore. Her eyes were drawn to the way his fingers traced the edge of a case file as he analyzed it, or how they drummed a steady rhythm on his desk, each tap somehow amplifying the tension she was trying to suppress.

Her breaking point came when the team was wrapping up for the day. Spencer, eager to show off, insisted on demonstrating a new cardistry trick he’d learned. The rest of the team gathered around, and Y/N felt herself drawn in, unable to look away. Her eyes locked on his fingers as he deftly manipulated the cards, the muscles in his hands flexing with each smooth, controlled movement. She barely registered her open mouth or the way her pulse quickened—every part of her attention was on him.

Y/N was jolted back to reality when Emily nudged her, a raised eyebrow full of amusement as the rest of the team cheered and complimented Spencer on his newly acquired skill. Rather than meet Emily’s knowing look, Y/N quickly murmured her praise for Spencer, then hastily made her exit, claiming she needed to hit a store before it closed.

If she thought that day was bad, the next few weeks were hell.

The BAU had two back-to-back cases, leaving them no time to rest as they flew straight from Tennessee to Arizona. The dry heat seemed to make Spencer restless—constantly running his fingers through his hair, fidgeting with his watch, or rolling up his sleeves. Meanwhile, Y/N felt her sanity slipping away, her thoughts unraveling as she stumbled over her words or completely lost track of what she was saying—because she couldn’t stop staring at those goddamned hands.

Spencer wasn’t blind to the shift in her behavior. He’d noticed how she started to occupy herself with something whenever he entered the room, or how she became increasingly uneasy around him—spinning the rings on her fingers, tugging at the necklace he'd given her for her last birthday, or even finding reasons to leave the room entirely the moment he stepped in.

Y/N's usual teasing had begun to feel hollow, and the familiar touches she used to give him—guiding him gently by the hand, rubbing his shoulder when frustration set in, or planting an exaggerated kiss on his cheek before leaving—had completely disappeared.

He felt gutted, unable to think of a single reason for Y/N's sudden distance. The uncertainty gnawed at him, twisting his stomach with worry. What if she was tired of him? Or worse… what if she had finally seen through his feelings for her and was repulsed by them?

When the team wrapped up in Arizona and boarded the jet home, Spencer made up his mind.

After Y/N chose to sit next to Emily instead of her usual spot beside him, he couldn’t take it anymore. The not knowing was eating at him, and more than anything… he missed her. She was the one person who saw him for who he truly was, the one who understood him better than he understood himself. The one who brought him solace during the toughest cases and reminded him why he kept going. The thought of losing her was unbearable, and he promised himself he’d do whatever it took to fix whatever had gone wrong.

As soon as the jet touched down in Quantico, Y/N quickly muttered her goodbyes and made a beeline for the parking garage. Finally, she was free. Free to go home, shut herself off, and stop behaving like a complete mess around Spencer. She hated how distant she’d been, but she couldn’t help it. The weight of her obsessive thoughts about him and the feelings she’d tried to bury for so long had completely overridden her rational thoughts, leaving her acting out of control.

Fingers closed around her upper arm just inches from her car, and a sharp yelp escaped her lips. She spun around, startled, to find an equally surprised Spencer standing there. She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she hadn't heard him following her.

"Jesus, Grandpa! Make an announcement before you sneak up on people!" Y/N complained loudly, turning away from him to unlock her car and toss her go bag into the backseat.

Spencer couldn't help but feel some relief at the nickname, a surge of hope coursing through him. Grandpa. She hadn't called him that in almost two weeks. He cleared his throat, holding onto his courage as he finally addressed her recent behavior.

"Sorry! Sorry, I just— I wanted to make sure we were okay? I’ve noticed you’ve been acting… not like yourself lately. Not that I’m calling you weird or anything—"

Y/N's heart broke at the nervous rambling spewing from his lips as he stood before her, tucked into himself and fidgeting with his hands as he tried to speak. God, she was such an asshole.

"Spence," Y/N murmured, gently interrupting him before letting out a soft sigh. "I promise, we're fine. I’m sorry if I’ve seemed distant. It’s just… I’ve been so stressed with the cases, and compartmentalizing has been harder than usual. I guess I didn’t want to drag you into it. I’m really sorry."

It wasn't necessarily a lie. She really had been stressed and struggling with compartmentalizing... just not because of their job.

Spencer’s shoulders relaxed, his tense expression softening into one of understanding. “You know I’m always here for you, right? You don’t have to carry that burden alone. I’d much rather you let me in than struggle with it on your own."

Scratch that. She wasn't just an asshole. She was the biggest asshole in the world for making him feel the way he had.

"I know that. I really do," Y/N murmured, her fingers nervously playing with her lip. "It's just… I get way too independent sometimes." She sighed, then brightened. "How about this? Tomorrow’s our first Saturday off in over a month… Why don’t you come over and we can do a movie marathon? We could use some good 'work spouse' bonding, don’t you think?"

Spencer’s smile stretched across his face, his voice a little more eager than usual and his cheeks flushed. "Yeah, I'd, uh... I'd love that. Let's do it."

Y/N returned his grin, her heart fluttering from how excited he looked. Relief flooded through her veins as he agreed to her plans, not realizing how much she had truly missed him the past few weeks since she'd been so focused on trying not to gawk at him every five minutes.

"Perfect. It’s a date,” Y/N teased, her smile widening. “Now, get in. I’m not letting you take the train back this late."

"What? Isn't this what you wanted, sweetheart?" Spencer crooned into her ear, tightening his hold around her wrists as he kept them pinned above her head.

Another frustrated whine left her lips as she tugged uselessly against his hold, but they both knew she didn't actually want to slip free. One of his hands was wrapped tightly around both of her wrists, his other tracing maddeningly up and down her side.

"Or did you want Officer Davidson's hands on you instead?" His tone was taunting, a hint of jealousy tainting his words as he tightened his grip.

The moment they stepped into their shared hotel room after leaving the precinct, Spencer was all over her. She’d noticed the heated glares he shot her way while she stood across the room, wearing a bored expression as Officer Davidson repeatedly (and unsuccessfully) tried to flirt with her.

They hadn't announced their new relationship status to the team yet per Spencer's insistence, but it was obvious from the intensity in Spencer’s eyes that he wanted to shout it to the world now. The way he glared at Davidson made it clear he was ready to stake his claim, watching the officer eye her like prey.

Now they were here, with Spencer hellbent on making sure she understood that she was his.

Y/N shook her head, looking up at Spencer pleadingly as she tilted her hips up in search of his. "No, never. Only want you, Spence."

A dark chuckle escaped him as he smirked down at her, his hand, which had been trailing along her side, now cupping her chin. His fingers gently squeezed her cheeks, coaxing her lips into a pout.

"Only me? Is that right, sweet girl?" Spencer cooed, loosening his grip to press on her bottom lip with his thumb before sliding the digit into her mouth. "Because it sure looked like you were enjoying his attention."

The flushed head of his cock teased her entrance, pressing between her folds as his hips slowly rocked back and forth, prolonging her teasing instead of giving her what she wanted. She groaned around his thumb, sucking the digit further into her mouth and holding his gaze in an effort to tempt him into finally fucking her instead of just grinding against her.

A soft hiss fell from his lips as his gaze darkened. He shifted his weight above her, keeping her wrists clasped in his hand and shoving them into the mattress as he began to rut against her harder. Her sharp gasp sounded through the air as he angled his hips up, the tip of his cock dipping into her deliciously before he halted his movements, keeping only a few inches inside of her.

Y/N writhed beneath him, whimpering her protests around his thumb as her jaw slackened, muffled pleas spilling from her lips as she began to beg uselessly for him to just fuck her already.

Spencer pressed down on her tongue with his thumb, a grunt escaping him before he yanked his thumb out of her mouth, using the hand to pin her down instead.

"Be still—"

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, the harsh light of morning pouring through her curtains, and she let out a disgruntled groan as she blindly searched for her phone on the nightstand. After weeks of peaceful, dreamless sleep, of course she would dream about Spencer the night before their hangout. Wait—

Y/N sat up abruptly, unlocking her phone to check the time, only to notice a message waiting for her on the lock screen.

Spence <3: I’ll be there in an hour with a surprise.

Sent twenty-three minutes ago.

Fuck. She'd completely forgotten to set an alarm to get ready for their movie marathon, despite being the one who had suggested it in the first place. Whatever brain cells that photo had scrambled in her brain needed to get a grip so she could function on a level above Neanderthal.

Y/N: Surprise? You spoil me, old man. I'll see you then :)

Y/N exhaled wearily, rolling out of bed and dragging her feet across the plush carpet. She shuffled over to her dresser, picking out an outfit consisting of black yoga pants and an old band tee before heading to the bathroom for a cold shower. Maybe it would clear her head—or at least get rid of the incessant aching between her thighs. It worked on men, right?

One miserable shower and a change of clothes later, Y/N finally managed to clear some of the fog clouding her mind. She darted around her apartment, tidying up in a flurry before Spencer arrived. Moving between the kitchen and the living room, she gathered everything for their movie marathon: a pile of 90's slasher films spread out on the coffee table, her biggest throw blanket draped across the sectional, and a bag of popcorn popping away in the microwave.

Spencer's signature knock rang through the apartment at the same time the microwave started beeping, signaling that the popcorn was done.

"Coming!" Y/N shouted from the kitchen, opening the microwave door so it wouldn't repeat the shrill noise before making her way to the front door.

She swings it open with an excited grin, her gaze immediately dropping to the bag in Spencer's hand. She beckons for Spencer to come in, trying to sneak a peek at what was in the slightly crinkled paper bag.

"Geez, don't look too excited to see me," Spencer chuckled, following Y/N into her kitchen.

She waved dismissively, laughing softly as she grabbed the bag of popcorn and a bowl to pour it into. Spencer sat the bag on the counter, finally revealing its contents as he pulled out a tub of ice cream and some sour gummy worms.

"A man after my own heart!" Y/N gasped with an exaggerated swoon, cackling as Spencer swatted at her playfully.

"You said you were stressed, and I know you’ve got a sweet tooth just like me, so I figured it’d be perfect for our movie marathon," Spencer said with a shrug, the faintest blush creeping up his neck.

That kind of thoughtful behavior was just another reason her emotions had been in turmoil for the past few weeks. The selfie had opened a door to a spiral of introspection, one that made her revisit every moment they’d shared. She had always known their friendship straddled the line between platonic and something more, but she’d convinced herself it was simply because they were so comfortable with one another. It wasn’t until now that she began to wonder if those boundaries had been blurred intentionally — if, deep down, they both had wanted more all along.

The movie marathon kicked off after a bit of grumbling from Spencer, who finally gave in to watching the cheesy slasher films he’d insisted were beneath him. A few awkward moments of shifting on the couch later, they settled into a comfortable spot—Y/N tucked into his side, both of them with snacks in their laps and the throw blanket wrapped around them, ready to dive into the horror-filled lineup.

As they settled into the movie, Spencer’s gaze lingered on Y/N for a moment too long. He noticed the drip of vanilla ice cream at the corner of her mouth, the sight causing an unwelcome tightness in his pants. Before he could stop himself, he reached over. His thumb gently swiped the sugary trail now pooling along her lower lip, a soft swipe that left his hand lingering a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

"Here, you've got a little..."

The words died in his throat as her lips wrapped around his thumb, both of their eyes widening as their gaze met.

In that moment, everything fell into place for Spencer. It wasn’t stress that had been driving her distant behavior—he realized with a sudden jolt—it was something else entirely. The way she'd been pulling away, the tension between them… it wasn’t just exhaustion or anxiety. No, it was something far more complicated. It was desire.

Y/N jerked backward, nearly sending all of their precariously placed snacks to the floor as her face burned with embarrassment. "Oh, my God I- I'm so sorry Spence," she stammered, her words tripping over each other. "I have no idea why I did that-"

"Y/N."

Spencer cut her off with a hushed murmur of her name, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stopped her nervous rambling.

"It's okay. I-I liked it," Spencer reassured her softly.

Y/N stared at him, dumbfounded.

"What?"

"I liked it."

Spencer repeated himself surely, but the tremble in his voice gave away the fact that his brave front was exactly that: a front.

"I—" He hesitated, a heavy sigh escaping him. His hands fumbled with the snacks for a moment, setting them carefully on the coffee table as if buying time. He finally turned to face her fully, the weight of his words settling in. "Y/N… I've been in love with you since the moment I met you. I never said anything because I was scared… scared you wouldn’t feel the same. And after everything these past few weeks, with you pulling away, I thought maybe you’d figured it out and hated me for it. But… maybe I was wrong. Maybe you actually feel the same way I do..."

Y/N’s mouth parted in shock, her mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something—anything—but the words just wouldn’t come. Spencer loved her. He always had. And she had spent all this time convincing herself her feelings were one-sided, certain he couldn’t possibly feel the same way.

Spencer's voice wavered as he spoke, his eyes searching hers with a quiet intensity. "Please, tell me I was wrong. Tell me you feel the same." His words hung in the air, and he held his breath, waiting, afraid that his confession might have been the thing to push her away for good.

The raw vulnerability in his voice broke through the fog in her mind, and without thinking, she nodded quickly, the words tumbling from her lips before she could stop them.

"Yes! Yes, Spence, I feel the same way," she breathed, her voice shaky as she looked up at him, eyes wide with a mix of relief and disbelief. "I always have… I just… I convinced myself it was impossible. I never thought you could feel the same."

A soft laugh escaped him, his grin widening as he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. "How could I not, Y/N?" he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "You’re everything to me. You’re the reason I started believing in soulmates… because I know I’ll never find anyone more perfectly made for me than you. You’re it. Always have been."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, her eyes welling up involuntarily. No one had ever spoken to her with such reverence, and in that moment, she realized she held him in the same regard. But where Spencer's words were so effortlessly beautiful, hers often fell short. So, instead of trying to find the right ones, she chose to show him just how deeply he mattered to her.

Within seconds, her lips were on his, her hands gently cradling his face as she pulled him closer. Spencer surrendered to the kiss, his hands sliding to her waist, mirroring her movements and pulling her in.

It started as a slow, hesitant kiss that rapidly devolved into something more desperate as the weight of years of silent longing melted away between them. What Y/N couldn't articulate into words she poured into touch, threading her trembling fingers into his soft hair and tugging, urging him to hover over her as she laid back against the couch. Her lips moved against his fiercely, trying to convey the silent message that she was just as in love with him as he was with her.

The movie had long since faded into the background, its faint dialogue and sporadic screams now an odd soundtrack blending with the muffled whimpers and soft pants that filled the space between them as their hands began to roam. Spencer's hips were nestled between hers, unmoving and stiff as he tried not to mindlessly hump against her like an animal in heat.

Y/N noticed Spencer's rigidness, breaking the kiss to look up at him with a furrowed brow. "What's wrong?" She breathed out, propping up on her elbows and brushing their noses together. "Are we moving too fast? We can stop if you want, I-I'm sorry—"

"No!" Spencer borderline shouted in his haste to ease the insecurity he saw creeping into her eyes, his face flushing as he cleared his throat. "No, no that's not it at all. I just, um... I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I wasn't sure how far you wanted this to go."

Y/N’s shoulders relaxed, a small frown giving way to a playful smirk. She idly twisted the loose curls at the nape of his neck between her fingers, her gaze locking with his.

"I want you, Spence. All of you. If that's what you want, too."

Spencer's nod was immediate, his forehead almost knocking into hers, causing her to laugh at his eagerness. "God, yes. I want that, so much. I want you so much."

Y/N grinned as she tilted her head to brush their lips together, landing a chaste kiss on his mouth before she tugged him down, leaning forward to whisper into his ear. "Yeah? You wanna fuck me, Spence?"

He inhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes fluttering shut as his head fell into the crook of her neck. If he were younger, he probably would have just cum in his pants from her words alone. But he was a man now. A barely composed man who was dizzy from the intoxicating scent of her perfume crowding his nose and the most painful erection he's had since puberty straining against his slacks.

"Such a crude mouth you have," Spencer murmured in feigned disappointment, shaking his head before pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses to the skin of her neck. "Maybe I should fill it up until you learn some manners, hm?"

He traced the fingers of his right hand up her side as he pulled back enough to look into her eyes, his left hand pressed into the cushions to keep him from laying all his body weight onto her. He'd caught her lingering glances at his hands throughout the last few weeks. He just hadn't been sure why she'd been staring at them so hard... but now? Now, he knew exactly why she'd been so fixated on them, and he planned to use that to his advantage.

The whimper that slipped from Y/N's lips as Spencer slid two fingers into her gaping mouth confirmed his suspicions, the shit-eating grin on his face growing wide as he pressed the digits down against her tongue. She began to suck at his fingers eagerly, the feeling of her tongue laving over them making his body tremble in anticipation.

His hips began to rock against hers, slowly grinding against her aching core as he pressed kisses up and down the side of her neck. Once he was satisfied with his teasing, he pulled his fingers from her mouth with a slick 'pop', replacing them with his tongue as he kissed her deeply.

Y/N’s mind whirled, both surprised and intrigued by the sudden shift in his demeanor, captivated by how effortlessly he stepped into control. It wasn’t what she’d anticipated at all. She’d seen glimpses of this side of him—brief moments in the field or during interrogations—but never like this. The man before her was assured and confident, a stark contrast to his usual, endearing awkwardness.

Their kiss grew hungry as Spencer continued where they had left off before, his hands sliding under the hem of her shirt and bunching the fabric as they trailed up. He broke the kiss long enough to help her out of the shirt, tossing it somewhere in the direction of the TV before capturing her lips once more. He was a man ravenous, consumed by the sweetness of her lips, and even the seconds it took to remove her t-shirt felt like an unbearable eternity without them.

Her hands were just as busy as his, dragging down his clothed chest before finding the button of his slacks in the cramped space between them. Her fingers fumbled with the button blindly, and her movements faltered when his teeth gently tugged at her lower lip.

"Off," Y/N whined indignantly against his mouth, tugging frustratedly at the button. "Take them off."

Spencer obliged, helpless to her commands as he sat back on his heels, easily undoing the pesky button that was keeping her from what she wanted. She went to sit up to help with his zipper, but in her rush to get his pants off, she didn't realize just how close his knee was to the edge of the cushion.

The motion knocked his knee outwards, a surprised yelp leaving his lips as he instinctively reached out for her to steady himself, but it was too late.

A startled squeal slipped from Y/N as they both tumbled to the floor, landing with a muted thud on the plush carpet. Spencer’s hands shot to her waist, his eyes wide as he glanced up at her, now sprawled on top of him, her laughter filling the air at their unexpected fall. He joined her, chuckling loudly.

They were a perfect chaos—rumpled clothes, kiss-swollen lips, tangled hair, and eyes full of love. But neither of them minded, because they finally had what they’d both been yearning for all this time: each other.

The fall did little to curb their desire for each other. Y/N ducked her head, pressing her lips to Spencer's with renewed vigor as her hands slipped underneath his sweater. She giggled as he squirmed underneath her touch.

"You're such a wiggle worm!" Y/N huffed, pulling back just enough to let the words slip free into the air between them as she lifted the sweater up and over his head.

Spencer scoffed, his own hands slipping beneath the waistband of her yoga pants and shoving them down her legs. "I can't help that your hands feel like ice!"

A quiet hiss left her lips at the feeling of his equally cold hands brushing against the skin of her thighs. She wriggled on top of him, kicking off the remaining fabric that had wrapped around her feet.

"So do yours, but you don't see me acting like a baby about it!"

"Oh, I'll show you a baby—"

Y/N cackled as Spencer rolled them over, hovering above her once more with a cheeky grin and soft chuckles. He bombarded her with kisses all over her face and collarbones, ignoring her hands swatting at him playfully as he continued his attack. Soon his pants joined the growing pile of clothes near the entertainment center, the soft glow of the TV illuminating the room as the final scenes of the forgotten movie played out. His hands made swift work of removing her bra, leaving her lying underneath him in only her lacy underwear.

Their laughter died out as they stared into each other's eyes, the weight of what was about to change—what had already changed—settling over them. But fear didn’t touch them. There was no reason for it. This was always meant to be; written in the stars, woven into their destiny long before they existed.

Spencer closed the gap between them, kissing Y/N tenderly as he lowered himself just enough for their bare chests to press together and their hips to align perfectly. A sigh escaped her at the feeling of his hardened cock grinding against her, the thin fabric of his boxers and her soaked panties doing little to conceal what lay beneath.

Neither of them had ever pictured their first time unfolding on the living room floor, but in a way, it made the moment even more unforgettable. It was a testament to how desperately they wanted each other—so much that they’d choose the roughness of the carpet and rug burns over the luxury of her bed to avoid the few minutes apart it would take to get to her room.

"You're sure you want this?"

Spencer broke the kiss, his eyes tracing hers for any trace of hesitation or doubt. Y/N's lips curved into a faint smile as she reached up to caress his face. Her thumb stroked the skin of his cheekbone as she nodded.

"More than anything."

The look in her eyes told him that she was being completely honest. That was all the confirmation he needed. His shaky hands found the edges of the lace adorning her hips, inching his body down as he tugged the soaked-through fabric down her legs.

Y/N's face scrunched in confusion as Spencer moved lower, her brows furrowing as he pressed a kiss to her knee. "What are you-"

Her words cut off with a sharp moan as Spencer latched his mouth to her clit, her head tipping back against the floor as her hands buried themselves into his disheveled strands. Her back arched as her legs spread instinctively, making room for him as he began to devour her. He shifted, grabbing ahold of her thighs and placing them over his shoulders as his tongue alternated between teasing kitten licks and long, drawn-out laps up and down her pussy.

Y/N struggled to open her eyes, peering down at him as pleasure began to flood her veins. The sight of his hands—those beautiful goddamned hands that had inadvertently caused this to happen— gripping her thighs hard enough to leave bruises had her mouth hanging open, small whimpers and moans flowing freely into the open space.

"You taste exquisite, sweetheart. So, so good," Spencer mumbled against her slick skin before sucking her clit into his mouth gently.

Y/N cried out, writhing underneath him as the pleasure in her lower stomach began to build rapidly. A loud groan wrenched itself from her throat as Spencer grabbed her hips, pinning them to the ground as he continued to ravage her in a way that rendered her useless.

"You can take it, pretty girl," Spencer cooed, placing a kiss on her clit before one of his hands left her hip to trace her folds. "Cum for me so I can fuck you so good you'll never want anyone else again."

Who the fuck taught him how to talk like that?

Y/N couldn’t speak to tell him that she’d never want anyone else anyways; that he was etched into her very soul, and every part of her would forever long for his touch and his touch alone. She cried out as his middle finger prodded at her entrance before slipping inside, her orgasm so close she could almost taste it.

Spencer moaned against her from how little resistance her walls had against the intrusion, immediately adding his ring finger to the mix. He thrusted them into her hard, curling the lithe digits in search of that rough patch of skin that would give him what he wanted. It took all of three strokes before he found it, his mouth forming a smirk as she gripped his hair and yanked, grinding her hips up into his mouth as she thrashed beneath him.

"Spence! Fuck, I-I'm cumming—"

Y/N barely uttered the words before her climax seized her, her toes curling as her vision whitened and the world shattered around her. She could vaguely register Spencer's sweet voice coaxing her through it, his forehead now pressed to hers as his fingers continued to gently thrust into her through the aftershocks. Only when she was trembling and weakly shoving at his wrist did he finally stop his movements, his lips meeting hers in a series of soft kisses as her chest heaved beneath him.

"Yeah?" He murmured with a smug grin, pulling back to smooth her hair away from her damp face with his clean hand as she stared up at him in bewilderment.

Spencer Reid had just caused her to cum harder than she ever had in her life. Spencer—the same Spencer that was too shy to look her in the eyes for a solid month after first meeting her— just made her cum so hard she almost blacked out. She understood why he was a man of magic now... and it had nothing to do with the novelty tricks he was always showing off.

"Yeah," Y/N whispered in response, still reeling from her orgasm.

If that was the type of climax she could reach simply from his tongue and fingers, she was convinced that she'd never actually experienced one with anyone else.

"Do you want to stop there? Or do you want to keep going?"

Spencer's voice was soft as he stared at the gorgeous woman beneath him. He found it ironic that he was already kneeling between her thighs because that had now become his place of worship. His redemption came in the form of her essence, dripping from his fingers as they rested against her hip. He'd never need anything else as long as he had her.

"Keep going. I want to keep going," Y/N pleaded softly, her hands reaching for his boxers. "Just—c'mere. Wanna taste you before you fuck me brainless. Please?"

A pitiful whine left Spencer’s lips as he felt his composure crack slightly. He wasn’t prepared for her to practically beg to suck his cock. He found himself nodding mindlessly, his hands going to help her strip him of his boxers before he remembered the mess still clinging to his fingers.

“Clean these for me first, sweet girl. Then you can.”

Spencer brought his fingers up to her lips, watching in amazement as she obeyed without a fuss. She even went as far as moaning while she licked his fingers clean of her, holding his gaze while she did. Y/N knew what she did to him. She knew he was just as affected by her as she was him. And she reveled in it.

Once he deemed them clean enough, he pulled them from her mouth before ridding himself of the last shred of fabric between them. The second that Spencer was bare before her, she pounced. Her hands pushed at his chest, urging him to lie back as she crawled on top of him.

“You’re so pretty, Spence,” Y/N breathed dazedly, pecking his lips before trailing her kisses down his chest. “God… look at you.”

Spencer flushed bright red while she continued to murmur her praises as she gripped the base of him, his cock twitching in her hand.

He had never been particularly confident—growing up as a child prodigy in a Las Vegas public school had stripped him of any sense of self-worth before it had a chance to take root. Unlike Morgan, he didn’t have the muscles or the easy charm with women. He could count the number of sexual encounters he’d had on one hand. His dates rarely progressed beyond the first, driven away by his nervous rambling and the unpredictable demands of his job.

The only way Spencer even knew how to make Y/N feel so good was because he had studied every piece of material he could find on the intricacies of female anatomy and sexual pleasure on the off chance one of his dates would blossom into something more than an uncomfortable hook-up and dash situation. It also helped that he’d pined after her since he’d known her, that longing translating into a dire need to make her feel the best she ever had because that’s what she deserved. She deserved to feel pleasure in its purest form, to feel cherished and worshipped because that’s how precious she was to him.

And in this moment, as she gazed at him with the kind of reverence that made it seem as though he was the center of her universe, Spencer believed that maybe, just maybe, he deserved to feel that way too.

His fingers grasped helplessly at the carpet beneath him as her beautiful lips wrapped around the flushed head of his arousal, a muffled curse falling into the air as she swirled her tongue around him. Y/N smirked around her mouthful, her eyes glinting with amusement as she inhaled through her nose and pushed lower, taking him into the back of her throat. The gag that she emitted from the motion had his hips jerking up, a flurry of apologies spewing from his mouth.

Instead of responding verbally, she simply grabbed his hands and guided them to her hair, encouraging him to take hold and move her as he pleased. Once he threaded his hands through her hair, she continued. Her own hands planted firmly on his thighs as she began to bob her head around what she could fit, a soft hum vibrating around his length as her eyes fluttered shut.

Spencer was speechless— absolutely floored as he stared slack-jawed at the woman moaning around his cock like she was the one receiving pleasure from it. He gave an experimental tug of her hair, his head falling back with a thunk as she moaned louder and moved faster. It was as though she were unraveling his very soul with her tongue, hurtling him towards an orgasm he didn’t want to have just yet.

“Y-Y/N wait I— ngh!” Spencer groaned, his grip on her hair tightening unintentionally as he tried to pull her off of him. “I won’t be able to fuck you if you make me cum down your throat, pretty girl. P-please—“

Y/N whined in protest but finally eased herself off of his cock, a trail of spit bridging her lower lip to the head of him as she stared up at him with watery eyes and swollen lips.

Spencer felt delirious as he took in the sight. It was something he’d dreamed about (albeit guiltily) for years, and having the real thing in front of him was infinitely better than anything his subconscious had conjured up during those restless nights. She was a vision; a work of art that deserved to have a museum dedicated to her and her alone.

“Oh, don’t pout. Unless you don’t want to be fucked anymore?” Spencer chuckled breathlessly, arching a brow as she moved to straddle him. His hands found their way to her waist, a shudder running down his spine as she settled over him.

“If you won’t fuck me… I have a pretty nice dildo in my bedside drawer that should do the trick,” Y/N hummed coyly, dragging her heat across the length of him with a soft sigh.

Spencer’s eyes darkened at that, his grip on her hips tightening to put a halt to her subtle movements.

“Yeah? You think it’d make you feel better than I could?”

Y/N swallowed hard, the aching between her legs starting to override her logical thinking. She knew the answer he was looking for; the answer that would give her exactly what she wanted. But she decided to be a smartass instead.

“Maybe,” She answered with a shrug, nibbling at her lower lip as she tried to fight against his hold to get the friction she craved.

“Go get it then.”

Spencer leaned forward, his nose brushing hers as she sat in his lap, a challenge in his gaze. He knew she wouldn’t—she was getting restless, just like him. But if this was the game she wanted to play, he was determined to win.

Panic spread across Y/N’s face at the cold, indifferent look in his eyes. Her hands rested on his shoulders, her frown betraying the sinking realization of the hole she’d dug for herself. They were both ridiculously competitive, so why she’d started this—rather than just admitting how badly she wanted him buried inside her—was beyond her.

“I was kidding,” Y/N huffed, tilting forward in an attempt to capture his lips.

Spencer leaned back, keeping his lips just out of reach. He shook his head, smirking softly. “Nope. Either go get it, or say you’re sorry.”

Y/N hesitated, frowning as she weighed her options. She wanted him so badly it hurt. But pride was a hell of a thing. She knew he wouldn’t back down. Normally, she wouldn’t either. But his cock was pressed so deliciously against her clit that she decided it would be more than worth it to lose just this once.

“I’m sorry,” She mumbled, barely audible.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

Spencer’s taunting made her groan in frustration before she sighed and tried again.

“I said I’m sorry—“

He shifted them so that his back was against the couch, her knees on both sides of his hips digging into the carpet hard enough that he was certain it would sting once they started. He’d make sure to take care of her afterward, though. He gazed up at her with adoration, thoroughly enjoying how needy she'd become. Her breath hitched as he adjusted his hips, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance.

“One more time, hm?” Spencer coaxed, his hands now rubbing up and down her sides but still holding her tight enough that she couldn't rock against him. If he was honest, his resolve had crumbled as quickly as hers, but he couldn’t help from teasing her for just a little longer.

“I’m sorry!” Y/N cried out, her forehead pressing against his as she whimpered. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Spencer finally pressed a kiss to her lips before pulling back, his lips brushing against hers as he crooned. “Good girl, baby. Thank you.”

Hearing the praise fall so easily from his mouth had Y/N canting her hips down eagerly, willing to do whatever he wanted just so she could hear his sweet words over and over again. Her determination didn’t waver, her hips pushing down insistently. Spencer’s hold on her waist faltered, and for a brief moment, gravity claimed its victory.

A startled gasp slipped from her lips as the tip of his cock pushed into her, followed by a guttural moan that had Spencer's ears ringing as he cursed loudly. She had been so used to his hold that she wasn't prepared to support herself, his hands having barely caught her from dropping completely. He immediately yanked her up, the cool air against his skin a shock after having felt her warmth for the first time.

“God—fuck!" Spencer groaned as his head tipped back against the couch cushions, straining against every instinct begging him to just drive into her and utilizing every muscle in his body to keep her suspended as she wriggled impatiently.

"Baby... how are you— how are you wanting to do this?” Spencer whispered, swallowing before he continued. “I’m pretty sure I have a condom in my wallet, but I… um. I’m clean...”

Their hearts pounded in their chests as his words lingered in the air, the only sounds in the room being the repeated menu options from the forgotten movie and the ragged rhythm of their breaths.

Y/N meweled, reaching down to realign him with her entrance. “I’m clean and on birth control… Can we...? Like this? Please—“

“Yes.”

Y/N chuckled at his blunt response, though she was just as desperate to feel him after having the faintest taste of what he felt inside her. Her lips found his for a chaste kiss before she finally began to lower herself onto his cock, this time without his resistance.

Her laughter died in her throat, morphing into a choked whimper from the stretch of him. Even with how aroused she was, trying to make him fit was a struggle. Spencer was easily the biggest out of anyone she’d ever been with— a feat she hadn't quite realized until she was pausing halfway down his cock with a stuttered moan, slowly circling her hips in an attempt to adjust to the sensation.

Spencer was convinced he'd somehow died and ascended to paradise as he gazed up at the angelic woman hovering above him, enthralled by watching her fight to take the full length of him into her depths. His hands massaged up and down her trembling thighs, hoping to help her relax enough to take the rest of him without it hurting. Hums of encouragement rumbled from his chest as he stared unblinking at her, the warm amber of his eyes almost consumed completely by his blown pupils. His thumb found her clit and rubbed small circles into it as her eyes fluttered closed and she inhaled sharply through her nose.

"That's it, sweet girl," He cooed, continuing his gentle ministrations as she whined from deep in her throat. "Just like that. You're taking me so well. My gorgeous girl."

There was a pleasant burn as Y/N gingerly lifted her hips, leaving only the head of him inside of her. The way her hardened nipples brushed against his bare chest had her shivering lightly, the touch sending small sparks of pleasure jolting through her. Soft whines spilled from her lips as Spencer moved his hands around to grip her ass, gently massaging the flesh as she raised up on her knees.

With a committed roll of her hips and a quiet grunt, Y/N finally took the rest of his length, their bodies now flush together as her head dropped into the crook of his neck. The whorish moan Spencer released into her ear as he bottomed out had her clenching around him, a dire need to cause more of those sinful noises prompting her hips to begin moving. The raw stinging against her knees as she began to ride him in earnest only spurred her on, her nails digging into his shoulders as her head lolled back.

"Spence—" Y/N whimpered, resting her forehead against his as she panted out his name again and again, chanting it as though it were a mantra.

Spencer shushed her, understanding exactly what she couldn't manage to vocalize. He nodded against her as their bodies moved in tandem. "I know, baby. I know. You feel divine. My sweet angel." He continued to murmur out his praises as his head rested back on the edge of the couch cushion, small fingerprint-shaped bruises marking her skin as he clung to her.

Her hips began to falter as exhaustion started to settle into her bones from the vigorous pace she'd set, her second orgasm brewing in the pit of her stomach as though it were a wicked thunderstorm in waiting, ready to roll in and wreak havoc on her entire body at any minute. The slick sounds of their bodies connecting over and over paired with the symphony of heady moans and whimpers spilling between them—it was all driving her closer and closer to ecstasy.

Spencer noticed the fumble in her movements, his brows pinched together as he fought to keep his own climax at bay so he could enjoy the sensation of being wrapped up in her walls for a while longer. But he couldn't let his pretty girl do all of the work, could he? That would be cruel.

He planted his feet into the ground, beginning to pound into her from below. A satisfied smirk adorned his face as Y/N cried out, her head falling into the crook of his neck once more as she began to babble incoherently against his skin. The pace he set was wild and unrestrained, the angle allowing him to drive into her g-spot repeatedly.

"Take it, take it, take it—" Spencer hissed through clenched teeth before he latched his mouth onto her right nipple, sucking at the bud and swirling his tongue around it.

Y/N threaded her fingers through his hair, hanging on tightly as Spencer ravaged her. Her mouth hung open as moan after moan wrenched itself from her core and embedded into his damp skin. The pleasure searing through her veins was consuming her, burning her from the inside out. She was so close—

The catalyst for her orgasm came in the form of Spencer's hands slipping down her ass and underneath her thighs so that the tips of his fingers were brushing against where they were connected with each thrust. All it took was that one simple touch for the tension in her body to snap, her teeth digging into his shoulder as she tried to muffle her screams while her walls pulsed around him violently. Her eyes squeezed shut as she wailed his name loudly, not caring if any of her neighbors heard them at this point. She wanted the world to know exactly who was making her feel this good.

Spencer toppled them over onto the ground as she came around him, pinning her to the carpet and rutting into her fervently. Something akin to a sob fell from his lips before he abruptly pulled out, jerking his cock in quick strokes before he was spurting his cum across her stomach and tits with a cry of her name.

He crumpled to the ground beside her, pulling her into his side before he slung an arm over his face. Their chests heaved as they came down from their highs, both of them completely spent after such depraved lovemaking. His free hand stroked up and down her slick skin as she rested her head on his chest, calming the tremors wracking her body as they caught their breath.

Once Spencer regained feeling in his legs, he scooped Y/N from the floor and into his arms, hauling her off toward her bathroom as giggles bubbled from her lips at his surprising show of strength. Y/N watched with pure fondness as he started the shower, her heart swelling as he glanced back at her with a tired grin. When the water was warm enough, he held her hand as he helped her step in, following behind her with a hand wrapped around her waist to hold her steady.

After a shower spent lost in love-struck gazes, soapy caresses, and slow, tender kisses against the tiles, they ended up wrapped in each other's arms in her bed. It was only midday, but it was Saturday—so why not indulge in a nap? They had more than earned it after their (failed) movie marathon.

"Y'know," Y/N started, her voice low as fatigue began to cloud her mind. "You really do have massive hands." She took his hand, which had been resting loosely between them, lifting it to align with hers for comparison. His hand was nearly twice the size of hers, and the sight made her smile with amusement.

Spencer snorted, his nose scrunching as he laughed quietly at her observation.

"Well, yeah... I am 6'1", sweetheart. It would be abnormal if I didn't have massive hands," He stated matter-of-factly. "Besides, you love them. Really love them," He added with a sleepy smirk.

Y/N's face burned as she rolled her eyes, playfully shoving him with a scoff. "Yeah, yeah. It isn't my fault you have hands that were crafted by Michelangelo himself," She murmured defensively.

Spencer pulled her closer, brushing a kiss against her forehead, then her nose, her cheeks, and finally, her lips.

"You know I'm just teasing you. Did you know that—"

As Spencer began to prattle on about the variations and degrees of hand kinks and fetishes, Y/N's mind drifted back to the picture that had unknowingly set everything in motion. She couldn’t help but thank that raised crack in the sidewalk for pushing her old-fashioned boyfriend (that still felt so surreal to say) to embrace modern technology—because without it, she might have spent even more time blind to the fact that she was utterly, hopelessly in love with the man lying before her.

And as they drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, Spencer felt a deep sense of gratitude for finally being able to love the beautiful woman in his arms the way he’d always dreamed of.

Continued A/N's: I felt evil for my first (published) fic being so angsty so I decided to write this as a formal apology LMAO. I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you have just as much fun reading it. Please tell me what you think and let me know if you'd like to see a sequel for this as well! :) K <3

[ganggangscenarios]

Diamond Heart

Part 2

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: You finally decide to utilise your gym membership. Personal trainer!Jungkook

Genre: Romance, comedy, smut, angst

Warnings: Body image. Negative language. Heavy smut scene at the end.

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This is the second time I've uploaded this story. The first time, I received some pretty mean comments and messages. SOOOOOO I have to say, if you don't like. my writing, that's fine, just exit my page lol. Do not leave mean comments please.

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New year, new you, right? Your new years resolution was to get your body right, eat healthily, drink less and most importantly; get in the gym. However, it had been months since the new year had begun and you still hadn’t utilised your gym membership. The fee was regularly from your bank account every month and you had yet to step foot into the establishment. You frowned every time you saw the transaction on your bank statement, but you did absolutely nothing about it. 

But the influence of  social media made you feel like you wanted to try and be a gym girlie. So you took your gym bag  to work, placed It under your desk so you didn’t have any excuse not to go. Plus, the gym was quite literally in your work building. 

You sigh change into untouched gym clothes that you had bought all the way back at the end of December, preparing for your new year’s resolution. Shame rushes over your body as you tear the tags from the tight fitting clothes and chuck them into the sanitary bin next to the toilet. Huffing and puffing you slide your socked feet into new exercise shoes. Stuffing your work clothes into the bag, you exit the bathroom stall and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You didn’t look too bad, you looked like someone who was ready to workout. If you looked the part, you could play the part. 

Lugging the bag over your shoulder, you head to the gym. 

It was pretty empty, you were surprised, as the majority of colleagues held a membership, considering all employees got a ten percent discount as your employers owned the building.

You guess that people don’t usually come straight from work, they most likely go home and come back. But not everyone suffers from severe procrastination like you do. 

Heading to the changing rooms, to put your bag away, you pass a very good looking man, you almost trip over as your eyes stick to him. He dressed in a baggy white shirt and shorts, his feet adorned in similar shoes to yours. His hair was cut in a cool way, it was kinda long, considering all the men at work and currently surrounding him, all sported cropped haircuts. His ears and his lips were embellished with piercings, you almost walked into a wall when you saw him playing with his lip piercings, the tip of his tongue, just grazing the shiny metal. Your gaze fleetingly drops to his arm, his tattooed arm. How was a man like this working here? He should be on the cover of vogue or something. 

Tearing your eyes away from him, you manage to make it into the changing room, unscathed. You quickly lock away your bag and head back out onto the main floor, phone and AirPods in hand, ready to tackle the gym. And then it hits you a ton of bricks. You have no idea what you’re doing. You didn’t know where to start, what equipment does what, what part of your body to focus on. 

You look around at people lifting weights, running on the treadmills, using the equipment like pros.

Your eyes focus in on the 'smoke show' of a man that ‘briefly’ caught your eye earlier.  He was now sitting behind the front desk and under a large poster for personal trainers. The poster read ‘In the body gym: PT sessions available; first 2 sessions are free’. And if a sign from the universe, it doesn’t fail to mention how the offer is time limited. You take it as a sign, plus you were most likely going to try the gym twice before never going again. Might as well get free personal training out of it.

With determination, you walk towards the front desk, before stopping in front of that man of a man.  And that’s when the words on your tongue freeze. 

Jungkook notices a presence looming over him and he puts the finishing touches on the next promotional poster. He looks up and smiles. He noticed you when you first came in, you were a new face, he knew all the regulars who attended the gym and he had never seen you before. He would definitely remember a face like yours. He stands up.

“Hello, how can I help you?” He rests his tattooed hand on the desk and he notice how your eyes grow larger at the sight.

Your words are still finding it hard to get out of your mouth. You probably look like such a weirdo, standing there and staring at him. You manage to lift your finger and gesture to the poster behind him.

He smiles and his smile is the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

“You want to book a PT session?” 

You nod and swallow the lump that had been lodged in your throat since you walked up to the desk.

“Sorry, yes, I’d like to book five.” You fumble to pull out your credit card from the back of your phone.

“I can just add the fee to your account. You don’t need to pay directly. The fee won’t be noticeable until the third session, on the account of our offer.” He leans forward to adjust your account. 

You can see down his shirt from the angle. And by the sight you can tell that he works in a gym. Hell, he might even live in it. 

He clicks a few times and quickly straightens back up, you swiftly divert your gaze.

“You are free to start your first session today.” He comes out from behind the desk and he towers over you, your knees buckle. Maybe that’s something you need to work on. Do your knees have muscles? Can you make them stronger?

“Okay, should I wait here for the trainer?” You ask.

He goes behind the desk, ducks down and then comes back out.

He extends his hand and you stare at him in confusion.

He retracts his hand, and rubs the back of his neck.

“I don’t know why I did that…” He awkwardly chuckles, shaking his head.

It can’t be. There’s no way that he’s your P-

“I’m your trainer. I hope that’s okay, the other guys are fully booked and I had a cancellation today, so I thought it’d be a cute joke…” He trails off, taking note of the smile growing across your face.

You feel kinda at ease seeing him get a little awkward attempting to joke with you. He looked like he should be the cockiest motherfucker ever, but second by second he was proving that he was the complete opposite of that. It was endearing but there was no way he could be your personal trainer, not like you had a shot with him anyway, he probably had a really fit and hot girlfriend. You digress, you didn’t want him to see you all sweaty, breathing hard and struggling to complete simple moves. 

He looks at you, his eyes doubling in size. He can tell you’re slightly uncomfortable, he could almost visualise the Neurons firing off in your head. He was attracted to you, that’s for sure, he wasn’t trying to come off as creepy. Maybe he did, and now you don’t want to train with him, maybe you’ll cancel your membership too.

He rapidly looks around the gym, hoping to catch the eye of one of his colleagues, so he could offer to trade clients. He catches Namjoon’s eye, but before he could call him over, you speak;

“It was funny, I’m just a bit scared.”

His gaze meets your eyes again. He internally feels a huge rush of relief. Thank goodness he didn’t scare you away.

“Oh good.” He tucks his hair behind his ear.

Cute. You think.

“Why are you scared?” He quickly follows up.

Shifting your weight between your feet, you answer, your voice barely audible over the EDM base leaking through the speakers.

“I don’t want to embarrass myself. You’re a professional and I don’t want to make a fool of myself.” You play with your earbud case, avoiding eye contact.

You wouldn’t be his first client who had that same fear, it was completely natural to be scared of embarrassing yourself. He felt the same way when he started boxing, the first session was nerve-racking, scared of getting anything wrong. But all you need is a good and supportive trainer. And if says so himself, that’s what he thinks he is.

“Don’t be scared. I’m here to help you. We’ll start slow, okay?” He offers a warm smile and places his large hand on your shoulder.

You almost fall from the feeling of his hand on your bare shoulder. Yes, you were acting like a teenage girl who had never interacted with a man before. But look at him. You were a grown ass woman who had never interacted with a man that looked like him before.

He leads you over to a room separate from the rest of the gym, closed off with glass doors, allowing you to see the whole place. Inside the room were a few exercise balls, foam roller and weights. The floor was soft and covered in mats.

He takes you over to the furthest mat in the room.

“Just me and you here, so don’t be nervous. This section is pretty discreet.” He reassures you.

You smile and place your phone and earbuds down on the floor next to the two mats you were currently occupying.

“We are going to start with stretching, so please sit down. I might have to help you with some of the positions. I hope you don’t mind being stretched…” His voice quietens as he realises how it sounds.

His cheeks flush a pretty pink. A hot flash that runs through you, leaves a thin layer of sweat on your hairline.

And so it begins.

The next morning you wake up sore as fuck. All that extra stretching at the end of the session seemed useless now. Your legs feel like lead as you swing them out of bed and headed to the bathroom. As you sit on the toilet, your thighs scream at you, it was almost as if you could feel every fibre of your muscles tear. 

Your phone buzzes on the countertop. Finishing your business, you wash your hands and run the shower.

You tap the screen on your phone to see a message from Jungkook. He said it was important to have direct contact with each other, just incase he wanted to recommend some gym wear or if you had any questions. 

Jungkook (Gym): ’Hope yesterday didn’t tire you out too much. You did great 👏 ‘

Another comes in as you finish reading.

Jungkook (Gym): ‘I hope to see you at the gym (or outside) soon! Make sure to book another session! 😊’

You quickly pick up your phone, steam fills the room as the water continues to gush from the pipes.

It vibrates in your hand.

Jungkook (Gym): ‘Sorry if that was unwarranted.’

It vibrates again. You didn’t want to risk opening the messages just incase you were unsure of what to say. You really didn’t want to leave him on read unintentionally.

Jungkook (Gym): ‘Please ignore the last two messages 😣 .’ 

Jungkook (Gym): ‘Lets pretend that didn’t happen. Sorry for the spam 😔 

You click on the notification and unlock your phone. 

You: Its okay 😆  My body feels like its on fire every time I move, is that normal?

You fire off the text.

Jungkook (Gym): ‘Yes 😂  completely normal. You should buy a foam roller to massage your muscles~ But more stretching should help in the mean time. Here is a video to follow (its me btw 😳)’

He sends a link to a Youtube video. You’re intrigued. The gym seemingly had a YouTube channel. The link loads and then you see Jungkook on your screen. Holding the phone in one hand, you quickly turn off the shower and head to your bedroom. Careful not to walking into any walls, you sit on your bed. 

He greets the audience cheerfully, informing them that this was a tutorial for stretching to relieve muscle ache. He is wearing the gym’s merch, not like when you saw him the day before, it wasn’t a baggy t-shirt, no. This time it was a form fitting sleeveless, lycra shirt, with the gym’s logo nestled between his sculpted pecs. His vibrant tattoos more on show than they were in person. His legs were wrapped in shorts, that fell just above his knees. 

He encourages the viewers to get an exercise mat or find a soft surface. You follow his instruction. A loud groan escapes your lips as you struggle to sit down.

He sports the brightest smile as he guides the (most likely thirsty) watchers through the exercises.

You strain your muscles as you attempt to  toe touch. And then he says something that brings you back to the previous day, during your session.

“You might need a partner to stretch you, if you can’t get far enough. It’ll feel really good.”

You were being advised on how to stretch and then when it came to this specific stretch. You were laying on your back, hands clasped around your knee. You knew that you weren’t flexible, but  you didn’t know that you were this stiff. You tried your best to pull your leg into your chest, but you couldn’t anything.

“Its not working.” You say, letting your leg drop to the ground with a thud.

Jungkook chuckles and looks down at you, arms crossed, his biceps bulging. The strength it took to not stare was more than what you used to lift the weights.

“I think you need help.” He kneels down in front of you.

He pauses.

“I can help you, if you want.” 

You nod.

He mutters an ‘okay, great’, before asking you to resume the position. He moves forward, putting his body over yours, placing his hands on your calf and pushing your leg up and down.

You almost moan with how good the stretch felt. You try your damn hardest not to concentrate on the man who was currently on top of you. You tried not to take notice of his scent, or the small scar on his cheek, or the mole under his lip.

“Can you feel it now?” He smirks.

He knew you could feel it, he heard the noise you let slip. He tries not to think anything of it, but his mind runs wild. He had to be professional. Plus you hadn’t indicated that you were interested in him in the slightest.

You nod again. He sits back on his heels and lets go of your leg.

You’re pulled out of your reminiscent state by a notification and the sound of the phone vibrating against the floor.

Jungkook (Gym): Did it help? 😢 

You quickly reply with no thoughts. Empty headed.

You: Its not the same without you

He was gonna think you were like all those other woman in the gym who thirsted over him. You needed to fix it.

You quickly send another message.

You: *your help ☺️ 

Jungkook’s heart sank at your correction. Maybe you weren’t interested. You probably in a relationship and the last thing you wanted to deal with was a creepy PT harassing you. He doesn’t reply.

You spend your whole shower thinking about being left on read.

Your closest co-worker, Bethany, sits across from you during in lunch. She notices how you barely make conversation, or keep the conversation. You check your phone every 5 minutes.

“Who are we waiting for?” She asks, her fork digging around in her bowl.

“Huh?” 

She chuckles.

“You’re obviously waiting for someone to text. You keep on looking at phone like every two seconds. So, who are we waiting for?”

You didn’t know you were being that obvious. 

“Well… My personal trainer is a total twenty out of ten. And he messaged me this morning to give me some stretching tips, and I may have ended our last convo on a creepy note. And now I think that he’s ghosting me because I was a creep. He probably blocked me. I’m probably banned from the gym.” Words rush out of your sauce covered lips. Maybe spaghetti wasn’t the best meal to have in the middle of the day.

Bethany shoves a napkin in your face, which you accept gratefully. She request to see the messages. Embarrassed, you hand your phone over to her.

She remains silent as she scrolls down the screen.

“He has a crush on you.” She finally speaks, her eyes fixed on the screen, her thumb pressing down. She was doing more than looking at the messages.

“You better not be sending another message.” You warn her, hand reaching across the table.

She swiftly moves her chair back, so your phone is out of reach.

“If you don’t snatch him up, someone else will. Oh my God, he is…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, she turns the screen towards you. And you freeze. It is a picture of a rather muscular man’s bare back, the hair at the nape of his neck was wet with sweat. And the tattooed arm… You knew that arm. It was in your dreams last night.

“W-where did you find that?”

She smiles and her thumb resumes the swiping motion.

“It was in his previous profile pictures.” She leans back in her chair.

“His picture is a brown dog.” You sit back, the image burnt into your eyes.

How were suppose to act now that you’ve seen that?  All you can imagine is digging your nails into that back as-

See? You’ve been corrupted. No, you must be ovulating, that why the impure thoughts plague your mind. You’ve seen good looking men before, but you’ve never had such a primal reaction before. You also didn’t know him well enough to like anything besides his looks. His very, very, very good looks.

“He has a ton of pictures. He may be the first guy ever who’s good at taking pictures. Damn, look at this.” She turns the screen towards you once more. This time he was standing in a mirror, hair slicked back and in a black button down. 

“I can never go back to the gym. I guess my new years resolution is not going to be fulfilled.” You sigh, leaning forward to put your head in your arms.

Suddenly, Bethany gasps.

“He replied.” She smiles.

Your heart drops to your stomach. 

“I can’t look. You read it.” You close your eyes, not wanting to look at her face.

She clicks on the notification. It felt as if seconds were taking hours to pass.

“Aww~” 

Your head pops up, eyes shoot open.

“Aww?” 

She nods.

“He said ‘I’d be glad to help, I like you.”

You lunge forward and grab the device out of her hand.

It shakes in your hand

Jungkook (Gym): * your company 😜 

Your heartbeat quickens and a smile spreads across your face. He was nicely making fun of you, recalling back to your little save earlier.

“If you don’t go for it, I will.” Bethany jokes, her engagement ring, glistening under the lighting of the restaurant.

You sit back in your chair, clutching the phone, thinking of a reply. The phone buzzes again.

Jungkook (Gym): I hope I didn’t ruin my chances of asking you out for dinner after our training sessions. I hope it didn’t come off as creepy 🤢 

You didn’t dwell on a reply, you thumbs swiftly move across the screen as you type out a reply.

You: Why wait? 🫤 

Jungkook didn’t want to rush anything just incase the attraction was purely physical. You still had four sessions left. He didn’t want to put either of you in that uncomfortable position of feeling like you were stuck with someone you had a bad experience with. What if you found him boring, or strange, or creepy? Oh he was so stupid, luckily you seemed interested, but he didn’t even ask if you were single or not, he just pounced on you like some sort of predator.

Jungkook (Gym): I want you to keep on coming to the gym. I want it to go well.

Your heart melts.  It was endearing. That someone that looked like him could be nervous. 

You send a heart emoji and lock your phone, placing it screen down on the table. As you’re about to open your mouth to discuss your messages with Bethany, your phone rings. Flipping it up, you see the name on the screen; Jungkook.

You show Bethany. She snatches the device from you and answers it, shoving it to your ear.

“Hello?” You say.

“Hi. How are you?” His silky, yet raspy voice bleeds through the speakers.

Your eyes zero in on the left over food on your plate, your finger mindlessly tracing patterns into the table.

“I-I’m good. You?” 

You could hear the EDM music that played in the gym come through the phone. It must be at work.

“Same. Uh, do you want to come in today? I could help the soreness go away? Well, not completely, but feel better?” He suggests, shyly. You practically see his tattooed arm raise to go behind his neck to shake through the back of his hair.

You didn’t have any plans to go to the gym for another 2 days Your sweaty clothes were still stuffed in your gym bag next to your front door. You hadn’t even bothered to put them in the laundry.

“Uh… I don’t have my gym clothes today.” You lean back in your chair.

Jungkook was unsure of how he was going to come off but he had to try. He really wanted to see you, he felt pathetic having a crush like this. Pursuing a crush like this.

“We have gym apparel here.” He says.

You almost scoff. Not meaning to come off as condescending. You try to disguise the scoff as a cough.

“I’m not really a gym girlie. So I’m not into buying gym clothes like that… I’ll be come in on Friday tho-“

He cuts you off.

“I’m looking at the system now and your membership actually expires tomorrow. You signed up for a 6 month contract and well… its been 6 months.” 

He was telling the truth, but he was coming off as desperate.

“Oh. Um, Its my lunch break right now, I guess I could quickly come in to renew. I’ll be there soon.”

You both mutter a quick farewell before ending the phone call.

“Sounds like he really wants to see you.”

You walk into the gym, feeling slightly uneasy dressed in your work clothes, your heels sinking into the padded floor. You immediately spot Jungkook who was currently with a client at one of the machines, a young woman who looked like she didn’t really need to be in the gym, but thats probably what hard work and dedication gets you. Results. He was dressed casually as always, a t-shirt and baggy shorts. This time a beanie encased his raven locks. You rip your gaze away from the two of them and head to the front desk. A young man greets you, you read his name tag ‘Namjoon’. He was tall, buff and oh so handsome. Was that the requirement to work at this gym?

How can I help you today?” Namjoon asks.

“Hi, I need to renew my membership.” You start.

The man smile, his dimple becoming more prominent with every tooth that displays.

“Sure, what’s your name?” His fingers ready to enter your information into the computer.

You give him your name, placing your handbag on to the counter to find your ID just incase.

Namjoon’s eyebrows reach his hairline and his yells for Jungkook. You’re startled at the sudden outburst. You look up at him in confusion. He gives you a curt smile before backing away from the counter and jogging over to Jungkook. You follow him with your eyes as he approaches Jungkook. You’re unable to hear their conversation as a count of the the loud music and the distance. You see Jungkook turn to his client and she dismounts from the machine and takes a swig of water. The two men exchange a few words before Jungkook heads your way. He approaches you with a gleaming smile on his face. You return a shy grin.

He jogs behind the counter.

“Is there a problem? Couldn’t Namjoon, is that his name? Couldn’t he do it?” You tilt your head in wonder.

Jungkook felt a pang of jealousy in his chest, he didn’t enjoy the fact that you seemed to want Namjoon to assist you when he was right there.

You notice his eyes flicker and his smile falter.

“You looked busy, I didn’t want to bother you.” You reach your hand out in defence.

His smile returns at its luminescence.

“Its no bother. I was expecting you.” Types in your information into the system and prints out a new contract. He quickly turns around to grab the sheet of paper from the printer. You take the time to admire his back, the image of his shirtless back flashing through your mind. 

Your thoughts are interrupted when he puts the contract down on the counter and gestures to the pen perched in it’s stand. He tells you where to sign. You quickly sign and date on the dotted line before handing it back to him.

“Do you want to grab dinner tonight?” He asks.

You’re taken aback by the sudden invite. 

Before you could respond, Jungkook’s client saunters over to the two of you.

“Kookie, are we going to finish the session?” She leans on the counter, and you take the opportunity to take a glance at her body. She had the physique of a dancer, or a model. She was definitely on someone’s (your) vision board.

You weren’t an overly insecure person, but thats was mostly because you kept to yourself  and limited your use of social media. But in times like these, when you unintentionally comparing yourself to another woman who was just simply existing in the presence of a good looking man. You wrap your blazer around your waist trying to shield your shape as you feel her eyes dart up and down your body.

“Yeah give me one second.” He doesn’t turn away from you.

Jungkook was about to open his mouth, when the lady interrupts;

“He’s really good. He’ll get you into shape in no time! He also offers meal plans, if he hasn’t told you already.” She gives you the once over one more time. 

You feel yourself fold in. Your shoulder slump and chest caves in. You suddenly become aware of your body and how different it was in comparison to all the people in the gym. In comparison to Jungkook, who was seemingly trying to ask you out right now. You thought of his intentions. Was he trying to garner more business for the gym? Was he going to take you out and suggest that you sign up for more PT sessions? Or maybe he was simply doing his job? And he asked all his clients out to dinner so he could monitor their eating habits?

Or MAYBE it was worse; and he got a kick of leading innocent woman into thinking they had a chance with men like him. And all the people at the gym knew it?

“Clara, I’ll be over in 5 minutes. Namjoon is gonna take over for a while.” He gestures over to Namjoon, who was leaning against a machine, patiently waiting for her to return.

She scoffs before walking away, making a point to sway her hips as she walks away. Jungkook rolls his eyes and looks back at you, a smile resting on his visage.

“Are you free tonight?” He asks, his eyes grow with hope.

The hope soon dissipates when he watches your face distort with uncertainty.

“Look, I don’t want you to go above and beyond for me. I just want to get used to coming to the gym first. Um… I know I’m not a supermodel but-.” He stops you.

“What?” He brows furrow in confusion. He runs through the past few minutes in his head and wonders where he may have misled you. He knew he sometimes had the misfortune of mixing up his words and confusing people, but he honestly didn’t think he mixed up his words this time. He barely spoke.

“I appreciate your help, but please don’t feel obliged to go outside the boundaries of the gym t-.” He cuts you off again.

“Boundaries?” He questions.

You swallow the hard lump that had formed in your throat, you already felt small, but you felt yourself becoming smaller.

“Yeah. I know you offer ‘meal plans’. But we don’t have to go out for dinner in order for you to sell them to me.” You choke out.

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise and his mouth drops open.

“I-I. No.” Is all he can say.

“No?”

“No. I want to take you out because I like you. Well I like what I know of you. I want to get to know you. I think you’re gorgeous by the way.” The last part comes out under his breath.

You’re lost for words, you don’t know whether you should apologise or question his response.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I wanted to wait until after our sessions were done so you didn’t get the wrong impression.” He looks down at his shoes.

You felt so bad, jumping to conclusions, you were the one who forced to ask you sooner. He was trying to make you comfortable, he never said anything about your appearance or made you feel any less than. You forced your insecurities on a really nice guy, who showed a little interest in you. 

“I’m sorry. Maybe I should get another trainer. And I’m-“ His gaze meets yours, eyes wide.

“No, no! I still want to be your trainer and take you out! I just hope I didn’t give you the wrong impression. I really like you.”

You shift in your spot, clutching your bag.

He pulls his phone from his pocket and taps the screens a few times. He shows you the screen.

“Look, if you don’t want to get dinner, which I understand. Lets go here. Its a painting cafe, its open til late night and they have drinks. Its really chill. You mentioned in our first session how you wanted yo do something creative, right?”

You smile,  he was seemingly trying so hard.

“Okay.” You say, coyly.

He beams.

“Okay?”

You nod.

“I’ll meet you outside at 6:30?” He locks his phone and slides it back into his pocket.

“Okay!” You smile before turning around and walking away.

This time, Jungkook watches you walk away, failing at containing the smile that had exploded on his face.

Jungkook knew his last client of the day felt rushed, he didn’t bother with the final stretches like he usually does, he didn’t even bother to jokingly flirt with the 75 year old woman like he usually did either. He aided her in putting the 2kg weights back on the rack before running into the men’s changing room, stripping and jumping into the shower. 

He scrubbed his body head to toe, making sure to get rid of the grime from the day.

Before he knew it, he was waiting outside of the building, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He catches a glimpse of his reflection and he immediately fixes his hair, one strand would not stay in its place, he knew he needed to use more hair gel. He should’ve asked Jimin if he could use a little more. 

Staring through the glass, he saw you coming, caught up in the crowd of people who were dying to get home. 

Finally, you come through the doors and walk up to him. You greet him brightly, hoping he can’t hear the nerves plaguing your voice.

He beams at you and asks about your day. He informs you that the place wasn’t too far away and was in walkable distance.

The start of the date was awkward, as expected, no more than a few words at a time being exchanged. He was ever the gentleman, before picking out a design for your canvases, he helped you  out with your apron. You fought to keep your knees from buckling as he came in close from behind to tie the back. You do the same for him, the height difference, between the two of you becoming ver present, as well as the broadness of his back.

The host lead you two a secluded room, as you both clutched your chosen designs in hand. The room was quite romantic, low lighting, except for the luminous light surging each easel. There was a table separating the two chairs, displaying the paint and the brushes. You glance at Jungkook and see the look of glee.

You both place the canvases on the easels and take your seats. The host, takes place in front of the two of you.

“You have 2 and a half hours, you are free to use all the material here. If you need anymore, please press the call button.” She gestures to the button, stuck to the end of the table, covered in the paint bottles.

She continues;

“This is an evening painting session, so we now serve wine at the bar. Selective dishes are also available to order. Coffee and snacks are still available. And… please refrain from any inappropriate behaviour, or you will be asked to leave and banned from the premise. We do have CCTV in each room.” She offers an awkward smile and swiftly leaves the room.

Jungkook hopes you don’t think that he brought you here for illicit reasons. Maybe you’d think he was one of those sleazy guys who take women to private rooms and try it on with them. Shit. You haven’t said anything. Shit. He hasn’t said anything. He’s been in his head for the past few seconds.

“I hope I’m not bad at this.” You say, breaking the silence, with a light laugh.

He turns to you and smiles, picking up a paintbrush and offering it to you. You take it and return the smile.

From then on, the date runs smoothly. You both decide to order a bottle of wine and share a plate of  pasta. One bottle turned into two, and the room was filled with laughter and stories. The misunderstandings of the afternoon long forgotten. Before you knew it, a voice came through a small speaker, you didn’t know was there, reminding you that you had 10 minutes left.

In a burst of tipsy laughter, the two of you hurriedly finish your paintings. 

Picking up your painting and Jungkook to the ‘drying station’, located, near the entrance. You both remove your paint covered aprons before attending to your paintings once again. You take a peek at his masterpiece before you flick on the hairdryer.

“How are you real?” You ask in disbelief.

He tilts his head in confusion.

“You look amazing, you’re nice, and you can paint. What can’t you do?” You giggle.

He laughs and shakes his head.

“No, no. I- You- I mean thank you. But I think the same about you.” He says quickly turning on his hairdryer, aiming it at his picture.

The hum of the machines fill the room, echoing your laughter that once filled your ears. Your ears, that were now flushed with flattery.

The hostess takes both paintings, wrapping them up carefully, and handing you both your respective bags. She taps on the register, reading off the total bill. You reach in your bag to find your card, yeah, it was a date, but you felt strange standing there as Jungkook paid for something that could’ve easily been a platonic date… Your thoughts are interrupted.

“Do you want the receipt?” 

“Huh?” The sound slipped out.

Jungkook looks at you before answering.

“No thank you. Thank you, have a nice evening.”  His free hand grabs yours and he guides you both outside.

So… not a platonic date then.

The street was much busier than it had been than when you had arrived. It was filled with people unwinding after a long day at work, ready for the weekend. It was also littered with loved up couples, holding hands, looking for places to eat, talking to each other about who knows what. If anyone were to look at the two of you, they would think you were one of those lovelorn couples. The way your hand fit in his, pace matching his, laughter mixing harmoniously with his.

“Thank you for tonight. I had so much fun.” You pull him to a stop, pulling him into a side road, away from the foot traffic.

Jungkook feels his heart swell, he was so happy. He felt like it went well, but to hear you say it? Made him feel like he was flying. To think that a few hours ago, it was all almost slipping away from him. He found himself drawn to you, he couldn’t explain it. He always believed that that’s how he’d find his ‘person’. It would just feel right. And it does.

“Me too. Thank you for giving me a chance.” He takes both your hand in his, eyes growing double in size.

You didn’t think it was possible for a man like him to look cute, but here he was, with his eyes shining, looking down at you. Looking as adorable as ever. You move closer, you were aware of your actions, but you also knew that the wine you drank was giving you the courage to do what you were about to do.

“I would like to k-“

“Yes.” A puff of air tickles your lips, as he closes his eyes.

He doesn’t feel anything.

He opens his eyes and steps back.

“Oh I’m sorry, I as-“

You pull him in and plant you lips on his. Its not perfect, you miss slightly, you feel his lips curl into smile. His hand leaves yours and meets your waist, bringing you in closer, he readjusts his lips on yours. His lip rings indenting into the plum flesh of your bottom lip. You have the sudden urge to feel it on your tongue. You swipe your tongue along his bottom lip, letting it tease the metal accessory for a few milliseconds before slipping it into his mouth. A low growl rumbles in his throat and he tangles is tongue with yours. Your hand finds its way to the back of his neck, fingers delving into the hair at the nape of his neck. His hand wonders from your waist to your lower back, fingers inching closer to your behind.

The sound of a throat clearing brings you to a halt.

You separate, the rustling of your bags, sounding like teens laughing at their peers being caught making out at a high school house party.

“We should uh… get going.” You say, using your fingers to wipe the saliva from your mouth. 

Jungkook licks his lips and nods. You were more than ready to go about being awkward and distant but that was never his plan, he grabs your hand and walks with you like he’d been kissing you like that.

He walks you back to the work building and calls you a taxi. You both bid each other a sweet goodnight, exchanging smiles and hugs before parting ways.

Jungkook makes sure to text you as soon as he watches your taxi drive down the road, telling you how much he enjoyed spending time and how he hopes he could do it sometime soon. 

Your heart jumps at the sound of your phone vibrating in your bag. It does backflips as your eyes take in his words. For the second time that evening you ask him;

You: How are you real? 😂 

He smiles to himself as he heads home, he snaps a quick picture of himself and sends it.

Jungkook 💕: Very real and all yours lol

He immediately regrets sending it. Fingers scrambling, he sends a second message.

Jungkook💕: If you’ll have me 🥴 

He must be playing a joke on you, right? What does this tall, handsome, funny, sweet PERSONAL TRAINER want with you? He’s seen you, right? He’s seen the other women who go to his gym, right? 

Jungkook looks at his message and sees the ‘1’ disappear. You read it. And you weren’t replying. He came on too strong. Great, he ruined the perfect evening.

Just as about he was about to type out an apology, your message pops up.

You: Do you have a fetish or something?

He furrows his eyebrows. Figuring texting is messing up true feelings, he presses the voice call button.

Your eyes widen when you see his name on your screen. You pick up.

“Hi.” 

“Hey. Fetish?” He gets right to it.

“Yeah. You know…” Your voice comes out as a whisper.

He stops walking, he sits on a bench.

“I don’t know. To be honest, I’m very confused.”

You felt so embarrassed. You let your insecurities get the best of you and sabotage this relationship before it had the chance to even start. 

“Jungkook. You’re you and…”

You pause. You feel your eyes water. 

“I’m me. I’m not in the best shape and I’m not skinny or have a perfect hourglass figure. I’m definitely  heavier than you.” You let out a dry laugh.

“I’m struggling to understand and believe that you like me. And that this isn’t some sort of sexual thing.” Your breath shakes.

Jungkook’s brows are now in permanent furrowed state, that never crossed his mind. Of course it didn’t because he didn’t think of you like that.

He says your name. It was different from the way you’ve heard it said by other guys before when you’ve brought up the same issue. He didn’t say with defeat or dipped in grease. It was usually followed by ‘you should take it as a compliment, I think big girls are sexy’. ‘I wanted to see what it was like’

Jungkook said nothing of the sort;

‘I’m me and you’re you. I like you. I like everything about you. Well, what I know so far, I want to know more. I want to go on more dates, I want to see where this goes. Hopefully it can go far. I’d really like that. And you may not understand why I like you, but you don’t have to right now, I’ll show you. I’m sorry if a guy has made you feel like you’re a plaything and not likeable. I wish I could punch him.”

You laugh.

“I like hearing you laugh. I want to be the reason for that. Thank you telling me how you feel and not just ghosting. I appreciate it. “ You could hear him smile through the phone.

He couldn’t be real. But you had to tell yourself he was or you’d fuck it up.

“Thank you for not being weirded out.” You sniffle.

He laughs.

“After kissing me like that? I’m locked in.”

2 months later

Jungkook was a very understanding and patient boyfriend. He must’ve gotten a lot of practice from his job as a personal trainer. He pushed you to try new things, go to new places, but he always made sure you were comfortable. He was a living manifestation of your dream man.

He had asked you to be his girlfriend during your 5th and final training session. You were stretching together, he had your leg stretched out and next to your head (definitely not gym approved), when he ‘popped the question’. You agreed very quickly and kissed him, only for the kiss to be interrupted by ‘Clara’, the client who was convinced that she was playing the long game with Jungkook.

She lets out a loud gasp before storming out of the room.

“I think I may have lost you a client. Sorry.” You giggle.

He pecks your lips and releases your leg.

“But I gained a girlfriend.

Jungkook invites you over for a movie night after work on a Friday night. He’s ever the gentleman, he waits outside the building, takes your bag and holds your hand the entire walk  to his house. You had been over to apartment on several occasions. But never for an overnight stay, for a moment or two before heading out. You head to the bathroom, taking your overnight bag, you wash off your makeup, change out of work clothes and into a oversize shirt and sleep shorts. Neatly folding your clothes back into your bag, you head back out into the living room.

He looks up at you as you place your bag under the breakfast bar.

“You look cute.” He smiles, cutting up strawberries into a bowl.

You walk up next to him, your brushing up his broad back and wrapping around his waist. You kiss his cheek.

“Thank you.” You kiss his jaw.

You were both quite wary when it came to physical intimacy, you’d cuddle, hold hands and occasionally kiss, but things were moving very slowly. You wondered if he was even attracted to you (you tried to push the bad thoughts to the back of your head) , as he rarely ever initiated contact. You were still trying to come across has chill and nonchalant, but the truth was… you were horny. You wanted to jump his bones every time you saw him, he was gorgeous. He had been bragging about a delicious dish that he learned to make, and how excited he was to show you. You were a bit reluctant about accepting the invite, you’d been to his apartment before, but for only a few minutes at a time.  You had never spent time with him in his house with access to a bed.

You help him cook, despite him telling you to sit down. You both sit down and enjoy the meal, sharing laughs and stories from the day. After eating, you wash up together, feeling very domestic.

Drying your hands, you shyly you ask;

“Should we watch a movie?” 

Jungkook dries the last bowl and smiles, that shy smile that you adored so much.

“Sure, the remote is on the couch. Pick whatever.”

You place the dish towel down ever so carefully, the silence lingering in air before you speak.

“I uh was thinking we could uh watch it in your bedroom. If you’re comfortable of course.” You pick the towel up once more, wringing it in your hands, palms turning red.

He notices your hesitation, places the bowl in the cabinet, gently pulls the towel out of your hands and wraps his arms around you. You immediately relax into the hug.

“Don’t be nervous to ask for things like that. I want to cuddle with you wherever. It’ll be nice.”

Before you knew it, you were under the sheets with Jungkook on top of you, lips locked, legs too, entangled in a heated position. One arm was around his neck and one was around his tiny waist, sneaking up his shirt. He moaned into the kiss, the deep guttural sound causing a pool arousal to soak your underwear. His large hand had naturally made its way on to your breasts, he has growled at the feeling of your braless tits in his hand. His other hand was above you, resting on the pillow. He let his body rest on you a little, increasing your temperature ever so slightly. You gasp into his mouth, feeling something firm pressed against your stomach. He kisses your lips once more before moving to your cheek, down to your jaw and then your neck, sucking your skin slightly. You weren’t a particularly vocal person in bed, but his actions were making hard for you to keep quiet, involuntary whines escaping your body.

“I-I’m h-hot.” You whimper.

He smirks.

“Yeah, you are.”

You snort.

“No~ I’m literally hot, can we take off the blanket?” 

“Oh.” He laughs and flips the blanket off, rolling to the side of you, leaning on his elbow.

He stares at you. Before you could ask a question, his lips are on yours again. His hand cups your jaw. You kiss him back fervently, your hand

He pulls away, lips a hairbreadth from yours. His hand travels down your body, caressing your breast, squeezing your waist. Which makes you tense up. Your waist and stomach were areas that you were self conscious about, it felt like he was squeezing your flaws. 

Think about something else. Thinking about something else.

He feels you go stiff.

“Are you okay?” He asks, lips pink and swollen.

You nod.

“Just touch me.” You grab his hand and place it on your waistband.

He bites his lips, without breaking eye contact, his fingers disappear into your shorts. He touches you over your panties first. He moans at the feeling of the soaked material.

“You’re so wet. All for me?” He smirks, eyebrows raised.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as he moves your panties to the side and his thumb meets your clit, fingers gliding over your folds. He takes his time before curling his long fingers into you, causing your to moan out in pleasure, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. He slowly fucks his fingers into you. The room is filled with the crude wet sound of your heat and the murmur of the voices of the long forgotten movie playing on TV.

You’ve never sounded like this before, unintelligible sounds tumbling from your lips as he pumps his digits in and out, hitting that place deep inside you.

“Y-your’e gonna make me c-“ You kiss him and place your hand on his bulge that had been growing.

He hisses, bucking into your hand. He takes his fingers out of you and hurriedly removes your shorts and underwear. You barely have time to think when his mouth meets your centre. His thick tongue licks you up, sucking on your pearl, like the best candy he’s ever tasted in his life. Your hands shoot out to grab his hair as you shake. You grunt out his name as you cum, eyes rolling to the back of your head, you try to catch your breath.

Jungkook rises to his knees and rips off his shirt, you catch a glimpse of his adonis like body before his kisses you. How were you in bed with someone who looks like that? Even though you had just felt like jelly, your brain tells your body to tense up. You kiss him back, trying your best to push the thoughts away, but as your hand feel up his toned, muscular physique, it was getting harder to fight them away.

Jungkook feels you tense under his touch. He pecks your lips before pulling away.

“Are you okay?”  He asks, brown eyes glistening.

You nod and try to push the intrusive thoughts to the back of your mind. He raises his eyebrows, non verbally questioning you. You nod once again and presses your lips against his. He moans and kisses you back passionately. His hands wonder again, gripping your waist and pulling you closer to him. Your muscles tense once again. He feels you go stiff, he pulls away again.

Your eyes remain closed, scared to look at him. You’ve really fucked up now, he probably thinks you’re weird, and he probably regrets giving a ‘fat’ girl a chance.

“You’re not okay. Tell me what’s wrong baby.” He moves closer to you and brushes hair out of your face, but then he quickly retracts.

“Do you not want me to touch you?” 

You open your eyes, not daring to look at him, your stare tasering in on every detail of his bedroom ceiling.

“I’m sorry if I m-“

“No! I just have- I’m just… All I keep thinking of is what you must think.”

He looks at you puzzled.

“What I think?”

You take a deep breath and sit up, pulling your legs into yourself.

“You must’ve been with girls who have insane bodies, and you work at a gym for god’s sake! And now you’ve got to tolerate me. I don’t wanna put you off by taking off my shirt.” You ramble.

Jungkook barely keeps up with your words, he wants to grab you and tell you that you’re beautiful, and that he is more than attracted to you. But he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, you were literally telling him how you were uncomfortable you were with him touching you. Well, you didn’t say that explicitly but he didn’t want to push you further.

Him just sitting there was making you more anxious, maybe he had been hiding his true feelings. He did find you repulsive, maybe he was being kind and didn’t know how to let you down gently. 

Without sparing a glance his way, you attempt to get off the bed. He stops you, hand gently landing one your thigh. You stare down at his tattooed fingers, slightly gripping, leaving dents in your skin.

“Don’t go. I think you’re gorgeous. L-like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. That I’ve ever had the privilege to meet, to date, to kiss… To touch.”

You scoot back on the bed, eyes never leaving his.

“N-now I understand if you don’t wanna stay the night anymore, but.. I really want you to stay. And we don’t have to do anything, I won’t even touch you. I can sleep on the couch if that would make you more comfortable.”

He moves his hand towards your face, fingertips hovering over your cheek, scared to brush your hair out of your face.

“Even if you want to leave, please don’t leave thinking that I don’t want you or that I’m not attracted to you. You are perfect to me and it sucks that guys have made you feel like you aren’t the most beautiful woman in the world. “

You look into his eyes and you can feel his sincerity. You lean into his open hand, letting his palm warm your cheek. 

“I-i want you to touch me. I want you to want to touch me.”

Jungkook grabs your face and kisses you.

“I do want to touch you. I want to do more than that. But I want you to feel more than comfortable with that.”

You kiss him, deepening the kiss before he even has the chance to pull away. You wrap your arms around his neck and you fall back, pulling him on top of you.

He rolls you both onto your sides and places his hands firmly on your hips. He moans into your mouth, sending heart down between your legs. You clench around nothing and rub your legs together, in an attempt to relieve yourself.

Jungkook’s hand brushes your thigh, as if he was asking for an invitation inside. You spread to let him in, his fingertips once again dance along your folds, becoming slick with arousal. He toys with your hardening nub, making you twist and turn. His mouth detaches from yours and land on your neck. He licks and kisses a spot that makes it impossible to keep quiet. Your arms wrap around his body, nails digging into the taut skin of his back. His fingers tease your opening before plunging in deep. His fingers move smoothly and quickly, pulling egregious noises from your lips. He feels you tighten around his fingers.

“Are you gonna cum for me again? Soak my fingers?” He whispers in your ear.

You feel a burning flash run through your body as you let go and experience release. You come undone and as you do, he presses his lips against yours, licking into your mouth. He gently pulls his fingers out of you and brings his fingers to his lips, alternating between kissing you and tasting your release.

Breath heavy, you snake your hand down between your bodies, fingers brushing his hardness in his boxers. He shudders. It had been a while since he had had sex. People perceived him as a hardcore fuckboy but he was truly the opposite. He wanted to be in a relationship, truthfully, that’s the only way he could cum, knowing the person beneath him was ‘his’.

“I don’t think I’m gonna last. I-I’m sorry.” He breathes out.

You smirk before pushing him back onto the bed and kneeling next to him. You bend at the waist and place a kiss over his boxers. His breathing gets heavier, chest heaving, abs clenching.

You palm his length before pulling him out and taking him into your mouth. You both moan as you sink deeper and feel him it the back off your throat. You suck gently, pulling off to lick at his tip.

His hand lands on the back off your head, slowly coming around to stroke your cheek. You maintain eye contact as you bob up and down. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he throws his arm over his eyes, unable to control his body as the pleasure takes over. 

Suddenly, he gently pulls your hair, forcing you off of him.

“I’m gonna cum. I wanna feel you.” He confesses.

He sits up and reaches over to open his bedside table draw. You watch as he pulls out a foil packet. Expertly, he rips it open and slides the condom over his length. He turns back to you, encouraging you to lay back on the bed.

You lay back, and part your legs. He lines up with your core and gently pushes in. He hisses out a few curse words as he feels. You tighten around him. He almost collapses with how good it feels.

“So fucking tight.” He says through gritted teeth.

His grip on your hips tightens as he rocks back and forth. His tip hitting a spot in you that makes you scream in pleasure. He leans over you, encouraging you to hold on to him.

You both find a steady rhythm, moans reaching a crescendo as you explode. He follows shortly after, you feel the warm fill the condom. He rolls off you and next to you on the bed. 

“Y-you are so sexy. Fuck.” He breathes out, chest heaving.

You laugh and turn to look at him.

“Thank you. I think you are too.” You reach out and brush his slightly damp hair out of his face. The angles of his chiseled face glisten more with the assistance of the tin layer of sweat that had formed on his skin.

He scoots closer to you and pecks your lips before getting up to get rid of the soiled condom that has become baggy with the deflation of his length.

You watch his figure as he heads into the bathroom.

You sigh a sigh of happiness. You might never be completely happy with yourself but you hope you can be happy with him and learn to love yourself as much as he might.

Hope you enjoyed this! Once again, no mean message please :)

[intromortal]

PARTS OF YOUR BODY ENHYPEN OT6 LIKE MOST.

part 2

⚠︎ | nsfw, mdni

HEESEUNG | is such a boobs man in my eyes, he’d want nothing more from life than to keep his hands on your soft mounds at all times. and he’d do just that if you’d let him. whenever you two are in public he likes to sweetly caress the sides of your arms, his warm hands sneakily slotting themselves under your arms to touch the side of your boobs when no one is watching. he might even push his luck during nights in with your friends and slide a hand under your shirt, playing with your nipples while holding conversations with the others as if nothing is going on. And once you two are alone he quite literally goes feral, mouth latching on your nipples as soon as he takes off your shirt. he loves to play with them when he’s fucking you dumb on his cock in front of a mirror, getting the perfect view of both your fucked out face and the bounce of your tits in his hands. he’s def the type to beg you to let him fuck them :( he would turn into such a whiny desperate mess too, his usual domineering persona slipping away as soon as he takes in the filthy image of your spit pooling between the valley of your breasts, all perked up and ready for him to fuck.

others under the cut !

JAY | on the contrary can’t keep his hands off your ass. like literally. you’re walking? his hands are on your ass. you’re bent over, looking for something in a drawer? he’s spanking your ass. you’re out and about? his hand is resting in your back pocket. you’re cuddling? he’s resting his head on your ass while you play with his hair. you’re napping and he needs to wake you up? he’s doing so by biting the cheeks peeking through your shorts. you get the gist.  and he really doesn’t care about who watches, your ass is HIS ass and he will do as he pleases, if anyone complains about this, well. they can just close their eyes. that’s also why he loves to have you ride him. his hands just slot perfectly against your back as he holds you still and fucks up into you. his grip is tight and sure to leave bruises the next day. but he can’t help it with how loud the slaps of your bodies sound in the room, and how much the skin of your ass is rippling in his hold every unforgiving thrust he subjects you to.

JAKE | is as obsessed with your hands as you are with his. the way his larger ones envelop yours and the way his mouth is always peppering them with soft pecks is an adorable sight to everyone. and while he does find it cute, he likes them for a lot more reasons than just that. he loves about anything they do really. the way you use them to keep his mouth shut while he’s pounding you somewhere he should not be. he loves how cute they look wrapped around his length; the way they glisten with his cum once you’ve brought him to his release, he loves the feel of them in his mouth as you make him clean up his own mess, he loves how you grab his hair roughly and use his face to get off once he offers to return the favour. he especially loves the sight of both of your small hands wrapped around his wrists to restrain him, giving you a small semblance of power as if he couldn’t just turn you around and take control right away. and he does, grabbing your hands in just one of his, forcing a surprised yelp out your lips while a smirk spreads on his own.

SUNGHOON | is a proper gentleman. he’d never let you walk in a crowd without his hand guiding you, resting on the small of your back, sweetly drawing circles through the fabric of your shirt. it makes everyone swoon, truly, how he’s always so considerate of how you feel about your surroundings, smoothing his hand across your waist if he suspects you need any kind of reassurance. you wonder how they’d feel if they saw how he manhandles you behind closed doors. getting you all ready to take him on your knees, just to roughly push your back on the mattress. his pace relentless and harsh as he keeps one hand on your back and one pushing your head down, barely letting you breathe. or how he takes you before the sink of his bathroom, one of your legs on the countertop as he abuses your poor cunt from behind :( he can’t take how pretty you look under him, your back dimples drawing his attention to the small of your back and making him slot one of his thumbs in them, the other hand coming to the front to push on your stomach, heightening your pleasure, making your back arch even further in his bruising hold.

SUNOO | is absolutely obsessed with any part of your body that is plushier than the rest, but he’s partial to your tummy and thighs specifically. he adores to lay his head on both and nap, but deciding which one is one the hardest choices he has to make everytime <\3 he just loves both so much.  so when he decides to nap on your thighs, he gives special attention to your tummy. he trails wet kisses down your torso and swipes his tongue across it slowly. he might even reluctantly get up from your cosy warmth and grab a can of whipped cream from the fridge, spreading it all over your belly just to lick it up with his tongue, the sweetness rewarding enough to justify momentarily leaving you on the couch alone <3 his eyes never leave yours, and he smiles when you can’t help but wiggle under him, back prickling at the mix of pleasure and tingles.  instead, when he naps on your tummy, he spends at least half an hour between your thighs once he wakes up. he tortures you slowly with kitten licks on the expanse of your skin, switching to small nibbles the closer he gets to where you need him most. if you act up and don’t stay all pretty and still for him, opting instead to enclose your legs around his head, he just bites down more roughly until you relent your hold on him. he switches to littering your thighs in hickeys soon after, red and purple petals adorning your skin to make them even prettier in his eyes.  once he has you begging pathetically enough he gives in though, his face nuzzling in your sopping heat finally. he can never deny his gorgeous baby for too long after all.

JUNGWON | is a gone man for your pretty face, it’s not news to anyone.  the way your sparkly eyes just hold so much affection for him, how you look up to him like he’s the only person you’d ever want. he just feels so loved.  you have the most beautiful features he has ever laid on, he always thinks. and more often than not he can’t stop those thoughts from turning into filthy imagery of your face all covered in his hot seed. he loves watching your face contort in all kinds of ways when he’s having his way with you: how your brows furrow in concentration as you take his aching length in that sinful mouth of yours, how he can see the surprise in your face when he takes hold of your head and uses it to get himself off the way he wants to, how your eyes shut closed and mouth hangs open when he slides into you; pussy all wet from how horny you got while being used. he’s absolutely enamoured with how your breath hitches as he grabs your neck and applies a bit of force on its sides to lightly restrict your airflow. he craves to have your eyes on him at all times.  He also almost cums every time you obediently open your mouth for him to spit in; your expression so sweet and submissive, just another of the plenty ways he likes to claim you as his own. he loves the way your eyes roll all the way back in your skull and your mouth can’t physically contain any of the downright filthy sounds you make when he hits just the right spot, having you cream around his cock. more than anything he loves your glazed-over, content expression when you come back to him, a small smile spreading on your face as you wait for him to start peppering it in featherlight kisses just the way he always does.

[areislol]

The stalker

►— pairings. genshin men x gn! creator! reader

►— warnings. mentions of stalking/a stalker (if it makes you uncomfortable please don't read), implies that reader enjoys coffee (sorry if you're not a coffee enjoyer), slight sprinkle of angst, crack/fluff, proofread

►— synopsis. albedo created a machine where it would bring back their creator, who was stuck in another world, back to where they belong. but instead of bringing you here to them, it brought them to where you were.

►— a/n. for some reason this feels more like a filler than an actual eventful chapter. sigh i hope you guys enjoy this! I'm also writing a sahau headcanon :)

►— wordcount. 6.4k

✧ part one | ✧ part two | ✧ part three | ✧ part four | ✧ part five | ✧ part six | more tba.. NAVIGATION

recommended to listen to: snooze- sza

Having a stalker would be the last thing you could ever imagine having and experiencing.

You weren't exactly that good looking (in your opinion anyway), you were just average. You didn't have any powers or anything, so why would someone pick you out of billions of people to stalk?

The idea itself was baffling, it was even more chilling with the fact that you were quite literally talking and interacting with your stalker. It was utterly horrifying with the fact that he was so close to you, so close that he could snatch you if he wanted to—take you away.

As you lay still on your bed your mind was flooding with the images of the man, his black hoodie hiding his upper face, his twisted smile. You heaved a sigh before turning around, your face meeting with Ayato's.

He was gorgeous. He looked so heavenly and handsome that's for sure. The inner corner of your lips tug upwards as you examine his face, it seems as if his face immediately calmed you down. Your eyes soften as you continue to watch him, his chest heaving up and down gently.

But as the constant fear and unease had taken its toll on your mind, the thoughts of your stalker seemed to consume you despite how hard you tried to push them away.

The room was wrapped in an eerie blue hue, mirroring the turmoil within you. The morning light has yet pierced through the darkness, but the blue outside seemed to mock your unsettled state of mind. As you sat up in your bed, you heaved a great sigh before running your fingers through your tangled hair, groaning in frustration.

What was today going to be like? Could you really go back to work after being informed about the fact that you literally have a STALKER? Who in the right mind would go back to work after that?!

.... Except for you, we don't count you in. You desperately needed the money for college and couldn't just skip a day off of work because you felt unsafe, technically you can but what about the money? You needed it.

Your face was buried in the palms of your hands as you took a deep breath. Suddenly, you were pulled out of your thoughts by a soft groan followed by the sounds of the blanket rustling and a groan.

A soft, raspy yet sultry voice allures you, making your stomach flip.

"Already awake, darling? Isn't it a bit too—" Ayato yawned as his voice stretched, strands of hair softly drooped and covering half of his face even more. As you pulled away from your palms and stared at Ayato, seeing him looking drowsy and tired (yet so handsome) made you smile.

"A bit too early..." he continued, blinking groggily towards you. The corner of his lips tugged outwards as the realization dawned on him, he was sleeping beside you, a beauty, his creator. A red hue soon makes its way to his cheeks, you watch him curiously, his reaction is adorable (although you don't know why he is suddenly so red).

You shake your head, stretching your arms as a soft groan slips out of your mouth. "Not really, I... have to go to work." You replied, trying your best not to sound upset. But despite that Ayato could see right through you.

He knew there was something off but did not speak up with his thoughts, maybe he was wrong? After a few minutes, you both decide to get out of bed, careful not to wake up the rest.

The sounds of the tap running and stopping indicated that a few were awake, not only that but you could hear the sounds of sizzling, Thoma or Aether were already cooking breakfast. You were always so thankful for them, they made you breakfast, kept you company and were there when you needed them.

As you hopped off your bed you held onto Ayato's arm for support as you had slept in an awkward and weird position, applying pressure to your legs which eventually led to them being sore. Ayato enjoyed every second of your touch.

"Are you sure you don't want me to carry you? I wouldn't mind, really." Ayato offered, trying to convince you to let him carry you, obviously, you politely denied him. "There's no need, thank you though!"

After spending a couple of minutes brushing your teeth and washing your face with Ayato, you both went your own way with him going to the kitchen while you went back into your bedroom to wake up the rest of the men.

You were unsure why some were still sleeping in as they usually were awake before you, but it seemed like they were tired. "Good morning, wake up everybody!" You yelled, careful not to startle them too much. Collective groans could be heard followed by the rustles of bed sheets.

Aether turns on his back and lets out a sigh. "I'm awake.." He groans, rubbing his eyes and sitting up on the mattress. He groggily blinks at you before giving you a small smile. He was so adorable. And his messy bed hair didn't help either.

Itto grumbled and hid under the sheets. "Five more minutes... I need to finish my dream.." He mumbled before snoring off. You sighed and shook your head before walking towards Itto and crouching to his figure. Could a dream really be that interesting?

After poking his head a few times to get him to wake up, Itto rolled on his back and let out a huff. "Why don't you just sleep in with me? Aren't you tired?" He yawned, rubbing his eyes.

You shake your head. "No, not really. Now get up" Itto reluctantly got up when you heard Wanderer scoff. "So lazy." Wanderer gives Itto one last glance before walking out of your room, probably heading to the bathroom.

Itto groans, his morning was already somewhat ruined. "Don't think too much about it." And with that, you left the room with Itto clinging onto your arm with no plan of letting go of you either.

It was funny as this buff and hunkier man was clinging onto YOUR much smaller arm.

You both make your way towards the living room and into the kitchen, the smell of warm bread fills your nose. Toast? You thought as you seated yourself down in front of the table.

Itto plants himself right beside you, reluctantly letting go of your arm. "Good morning Y/n, did you sleep well?" Tighnari asks, seating himself beside you as well. Tighnari set down a book alongside a cup of warm water.

You nod your head when you remember something.

"Oh, I slept well thank you. What about you though? I remember falling asleep beside you... oh, and I was touching something soft as well."

You notice how Tighnari seems flustered by your words as his ear twitched. He clears his throat softly before replying. "That's good to hear and I slept pretty well."

He left it at that, he replied to everything but your last sentence. You slowly nod your head—signifying for him to go on. Tighnari's cheeks reddened before speaking.

"You fell asleep while touching my ears. I assume they helped you fall asleep?" He teased, a small smirk appearing on his lips. You had a hunch that he already knew the answer.

You didn't want to lie of course, yes, you did sleep better while touching his ears but it was still a bit.. awkward to admit. But to your luck Thoma came over, holding a cup of warm, delicious-smelling coffee as well as a plate of cheese toast.

Something small and simple but delicious. You let out a soft and relieved sigh, Thoma was right on time—reliving you from the awkwardness of answering the very embarrassing question.

(It really wasn't that awkward but to you it was.)

He places the plate and cups down on the table before muttering a soft and gentle "Good morning". "Where did you learn to make this? It tastes amazing!" You beamed, taking a sip of the warm coffee. Thoma offers a tender smile as he seats himself down and replies.

"I watched a video about it on the TV, an.. ad I think it was? It was quite informative, really! Although the ingredients were a bit worrying. Should you really be drinking that so early in the morning?"

You could tell from his tone that he was worried and you could've sworn you felt a jab at your heart. You wave your hand, dismissing his comment. "Nah, it'll be okay."

"You'll be okay?" "Yeah, I will don't worry."

Thoma smiles uncertainly but nonetheless watches you eat your food, Tighnari goes back to reading his book about flowers and nature as Itto munches on his sandwich.

The sounds of a newslady could be heard from the living room, you occasionally glanced over to the boy and the TV, enjoying the beautiful sight of the men as they watched the news carefully and attentively.

After a couple of minutes, you finished your breakfast and got up from your seat, Tighnari and Itto had already gotten up first and were sitting on the couch along with the others—commenting alongside the news reporter.

You were used to this now. You made your way to the sink and carefully placed your dish in the sink before turning on the tap, soaking the dishes with water so that it would be easier to wash later on.

Normally you would wash your own dishes but felt unmotivated to do anything today, but alas you still had to go to work. Just the mere thought of returning to work and maybe even facing your regular customer you now know as your stalker.

Shuddering at the thought you slowly make your way to your coffee table and grab your bag as well as your house keys (not that you use it much nowadays), you really wanted to spend time with the men but of course, you had to go to work.

Albedo gives you a look as he watches you get your things, ready to leave to go to work. He, along with the others, knew something was up. You were slightly more timid, more than usual.

And also that message you had received? Oh yeah, they did not forget that message "Mark Holey" guy sent you last night. "Leaving already?" Albedo questions. You reply back, not looking at Albedo as you speak—too busy focusing on

"Yeah I have to help prepare some cakes today so I need to go there earlier. Stay safe okay? I'll be back at four (4) PM probably."

He only gives you a silent nod when you turn around and look at him. Noticing the look on his face you knew something was wrong. But you didn't want to pry, the same went for you.

Since last night after getting the message Albedo, Dainsleif and a couple more were suspicious and concerned. You had never mentioned a guy named "Mark" before, maybe he was your friend, but either way, they had never seen him pop up on your screen.

It wasn't like they could just tell you about it though, what if you thought they were weird for looking at your phone? Would you be mad at them for being so concerned over something so little? Their thoughts could never catch a break.

Gorou fought his urge to jump on you and tightly embrace you in his arms. But with a few quick and knowing looks thrown towards him, he knew better. As you slipped on your shoes in a hurry, Neuvillette got up from the couch and towards you, standing behind you awkwardly yet with such authority.

You finally put your foot on the ground after struggling to put on your shoes and as you turn around to bid the men farewell you almost get a heart attack.

"N-Neuvillette! You scared me.. again." You had jumped a little bit from the scare but you calmed down nonetheless. Neuvillette apologizes, looking at you like a kicked puppy. He looked as if he had done the worst crime in all history (to him it was).

"I apologize... I just wanted to say goodbye and to stay safe." He sounded so sad it made you feel so guilty, you offered him a tender smile before responding. "No need to apologize it's fine! And that's very sweet of you, thank you! I'll be on my way then?"

Neuvillette only silently nods as you twist the doorknob—opening it just enough where you slip through but all of a sudden you feel a warm hand gently resting on your shoulder.

Turning around you were met with Neuvillette once again. "Something wrong?" You asked, brows furrowing as you waited for his reply. Neuvillette's mouth opens slightly, words just about to slip right through but he quickly closes it, his eyes darting away for a brief moment before his gaze sets right back at you.

"Is.. Is there really no way for you to bring us there with you? Can we really not come with you?" His eyes bore into yours, waiting to get an answer out of you. You sigh as your gaze wanders off behind Neuvillette and onto your living room where the rest of the men sit on the ground and couch.

Some were reading books – Al-Haitham, Albedo, Tighnari and Ayato –watching the TV or tampering with your broken gadgets – Albedo, Kaveh, Heizou and Lyney – (such as your poor broken iPad that your younger sister broke in a fit of anger.)

While most were watching you and when your eyes met theirs one at a time a smirk grew on their face. They were all quite a handful, it would look suspicious if you, all of a sudden, bought all 24 men into your pastry shop.

Who wouldn't freak out at the sight of 24 men trailing behind one singular person?!

"Maybe soon, but not right now for sure." Your eyes met up with his once again his deep blue eyes still staring at yours. God that man could maintain eye contact.

And as you two just stood there, not saying a word to each other, the more you noticed how close Neuvillette was getting and before you knew it Neuvillette was leaning down towards you, his face just inches apart from yours.

It was as if he was just about to kiss you, and the thought of him going to kiss you was.. unfathomable. Fathom the Unfathomable am I right?

An awkward silence ensues before Neuvillette sighs, closing his eyes shut before pulling and backing away. You thanked the Lord mentally before letting out a shaky breath. What was that all about?

As the men all waved and sent you goodbye, you waved goodbye yourself before closing the door shut, you were gone now.

"Something is definitely wrong," Albedo speaks up, putting his book down carefully on a table. "Yeah! Whoever is making Our Grace like this will pay!" Itto yelled. Dainsleif cradles his head in his palms as he shakes his head in disappointment.

"The goon's getting too passionate now," Dainsleif mumbled to himself, unbeknownst to him a couple others heard him and they wholeheartedly agreed.

Wanderer shushed Itto but despite that, he agreed with him as well. Whoever was making you feel this way would surely pay. "I thought we wouldn't call Y/n 'Your Grace' anymore?" Al-Haitham spoke, not looking up from his book.

"Oops?" Itto sheepishly smiled at Al-Haitham (who wasn't even looking at him). "Either way, I'm sure if something was troubling them, they would tell us." Al-Haitham continued.

Everybody knew they weren't so close to you, but they felt like they were slowly building their trust in you. Plus, they would never lie to you or do anything to upset you. As a matter of fact they would rather die than upset you in any way.

Even so, they only hoped you could and would confide in them.

Hours passed since you left, they all busied themselves with their own thing. Tighnari and Albedo were exchanging sketching tips and doing sketching challenges, Thoma was resting in your bed as he was tired from doing a "Just Dance" exercise with Itto, Kaeya and Childe.

(You introduced them to Just Dance for funsies, they were intrigued by the songs/lyrics and the dance moves. Some did NOT like to dance and therefore did not do it but when you gave them those darn puppy dog eyes.. they couldn't resist.)

The Fatui were again admiring the view from your window, watching the people doing their own thing. The people's lives here weren't so different from their world but still, it was their creator's world and they were intrigued.

Ayato, Aether and Wriothesley were sitting side by side on chairs as they skimmed through your laptop. You had given them your permission to go on your laptop to do whatever. And they happily accepted with the one condition that they wouldn't go on a site called "Tumblr".

Aether was still learning how to use your laptop and type, they scrolled through Google, typing random words—Dogs, Cats, Pencil, Man, Woman, you name it. While they were looking at cute puppies, Wriothelsye pointed out how there was a tab named "Genshin Impact archon memes".

"Genshin? Isn't that the uh, game-world thing we're from?" He mused, "Click on it." and Aether did so, upon clicking the tab they were brought upon many images of the Archons.

Zhongli, Furina, Raiden Shogun, Venti and Nahida. There were so many images, it was a funny sight. Why was Zhongli pole dancing....? Safe to say they were slightly traumatized. Zhongli himself was embarrassed yet concerned when Aether called him over to see him "bussing it down", as the title said.

In the end, Zhongli forbids them from looking at any other memes. They would just find another way to entertain themselves before you came back home.

"Ugh when will Y/n come back I miss them..." Lyney whined, tapping his finger on the couch in boredom as he lay there, his eyes focused on the door—hoping that he would see the door unlock and that you would be there. But of course, that wouldn't happen.

"Eh I don't know but they said around four to five, am I right, Neuvillette?" Heizou turns to face Neuvillette who is sipping a cup of cold water. "Mhm, you're right."

It was silent from then on as everybody did their own thing when Aether was suddenly reminded of something out of the blue. "Hey guys.. remember that text message thing Y/n got last night?"

A few looked his way in confusion while some hummed in agreement. "What message?" "The one Y/n got last night..? The name was uh.. Marcus Hole?"

"It was 'Mark Holey', Aether." Dainsleif sighed. "Close enough," Aether mumbled back, slightly embarrassed. "But either way, what do you mean? What message did Y/n receive? I wasn't awake." Cyno chimed in, confused.

They spent the next hour or so discussing the mysterious message, making up excuses and ideas of what it meant.

"I don't know that message gave me the creeps." Cyno shudders, "I mean like who sends out a message like that? Weirdo." He continued, and the others agreed. Who on earth just sends out a message like that?

"Maybe Y/n has a secret admirer..?!" Itto suddenly gasps dramatically and loudly, almost giving Kaveh a heart attack.

"Oh please, if anyone was their secret admirer it would be us—" Lyney cuts himself off as he realizes what he said, not only that but all of the stares he was getting (they knew what he said was true).

Lyney cleared his throat. ".. Uh I mean like.. you know?" he tried his best to cover up his words but to no avail. No one commented on what he said, they all did not want to admit to having a crush on you.

If they did outright admit it, wouldn't the others find them a creep? Would you find them to be creepy..?

And that is why they opt to be quiet and only hope to win your heart through actions.

Needless to say, they spent the next hour or so discussing the strange message and what it could've meant.. but on the other hand you... were struggling in the store.

Days would pass when you went to work and returned home, utterly stressed and frustrated. One thing the men all noticed was how happy and content you were before leaving for work, and how less talkative and timid you were coming back home.

It looked as though something had a toll on your health and it pained them to see you like that, they all agreed that they should not pry in case it was sensitive for you but even so, they couldn't help but worry and make sure you were alright there and then.

You lay on your bed, just lying there with a heavy heart and mind. Neuvillette sat on the edge of the bed and watched you silently, although your eyes were covered by your arm you could sense his stare.

"Everything okay, Nevy?" You had all grown accustomed to giving each other nicknames now, by far the stupidest (and cutest, you deny it though) is "Snookums" Can you guess who? Childe.

"I should be the one asking you that," Neuvillette chuckles as he turns to face you, slowly and gently moving your arm away from your face. You cast him a curious look, wondering what he knew and what he didn't.

You knew you were bad at covering up your feelings and lying but was it really that bad? "What do you mean? I'm fine if anything" You huffed, sitting up on your bed.

Neuvillette hummed, observing your face and body language, you were definitely not fine. "Don't give me that look Nevy, I swear I'm fine."

You swear? Should you really be swearing something like that..? You were not fine at all and you knew it.

"Okay fine, something did happen—well, IS happening but it's a very small matter so there's no need for you to worry."

Seconds passed with Neuvillette continuing to stare at you, but the more time passed the more he noticed how uncomfortable you got, obviously you did not want to speak about what was going on.

Neuvillette finally let out a sigh, breaking the silence. "I won't pry, Y/N. But if you ever need anything or advice I'm here, we're here." He hinted that you could talk to anyone you like (ahem the 24 men) not just him.

You were thankful for his kindness but this was your business, you didn't want to drag them into your business. "Could you leave me alone just for a bit? I'm sorry..." Neuvillette dismissed your apology and instead apologized for his behaviour.

"No, it's okay. If anything I apologize for making you uncomfortable. If you need me I'll be in the living room alright? Got to make sure those boys aren't causing a ruckus now."

His words made you smile as you nodded your head, thanking him for leaving you alone. When the door closes shut you flop down back onto your bed, finally letting your tears run freely down your cheeks.

All of your bottled-up feelings came pouring out, and you couldn't help but restrain your sobs. The taste of salt lingered on your lips, you clutched your chest, fingers digging into the fabric. Everything was all too much and you didn't know what to do, what could you do?

As each day passed you were vigilant when heading out, always looking past your shoulders just incase something were to happen. You wouldn't feel a looming presence or anything but the image of a man in a black hoodie with his face covered coming from behind and attacking you was more than enough to keep you on guard.

Your imagination was wild indeed, you thought of many things that could happen to you, maybe he would come up from behind and place a handkerchief over your mouth that was doused in some sleeping drug?!

Maybe he would follow you home and break in through your window..? That couldn't be possible anyway, you had 28 men in your house, and there was no way he would break in unnoticed.

Currently, you were seated down on a chair, swirling a silver spoon in your cup, the darkly coloured brown blending in nicely with the lighter colours, it was a pretty sight, and along with the warm aroma... It was as if the smell itself could take everything off your mind.

Sighing you looked out the window, enjoying the bright and sunny view, totally contrasting the vibe and light in the room you were in. "Mind if I sit here?"

A soft familiar voice drags you out of your thoughts as you look up, it is the woman from before. You hadn't seen her since the day she informed you about your stalker. "Huh? Oh, yeah of course!" You watch as she sets her bag down beside her chair as she sits herself down.

"What were you looking at? And why aren't you working?" She asked, cocking her head in confusion, a sigh escapes your lips before answering. "Enjoying the view I suppose, and I'm just taking a break.. oh! I haven't seen you for a bit.. how are you?"

Thanks to you, you both managed to have a pretty nice conversation, talking about your hobbies and interests and so on, you both exchanged names as well, learning that her name was Elisa.

Just as your laughter died down Elisa cleared her throat before looking around cautiously, her actions caught your attention as you too, scanned the room. "Uh what are you—" "Just checking for someone, hey, you... have you tried to get help yet? I mean the whole stalker ordeal."

Her voice was barely above a whisper but you somehow managed to hear her clearly, your eyes widened at her words. "Well... I.." You groaned, clearly frustrated.

"I tried to get the police on it but they said I didn't have any evidence and therefore couldn't file a report or something, I'm not used to dealing with these kinds of things so maybe I'm doing something wrong.."

Elisa attentively listened to your words, humming as you spoke. "I see.. what about we exchange contact, I'll help you!" Elisa grinned, your eyes widened from shock, was she really willing to help you out?

"Wait—really? Are you sure?" Still a bit shocked you narrow your eyes at her, you didn't want her caught up in your mess. "Mhm, positive. Besides, my father's the Chief!" Elisa really was an angel.

You grab out your phone before switching the phone with Elisa to exchange contact. As you typed in your number Elisa spoke up, "You haven't unlocked your phone yet." Looking up you see your phone in your face with just the lock screen on. "Oh, sorry!"

Grabbing your phone you unlocked your phone before passing it back to Elisa, you were done with your number so you set her phone down on the table, waiting for her to be done. As Elisa punched her number she couldn't help but remember your lock screen.

Speaking of phones, you really ought to buy a phone or something sooner or later to contact them in case something happens.. and vice versa.

Finally, Elisa was done as she gave your phone back before taking hers. "Your lock screen," She began, you pouted in confusion. "My.. lock screen?" Elisa nods, "who are they? They're quite handsome.." You perk up as she mentions them.

You begin to explain how they were your "friends" and when you took that picture.

"I remember the day I took this, I think this was.. a couple of days ago? I wanted to try out that "finger heart" trend on TikTok with all of them! Of course, normally it's just with two but since I wanted to include them all I just concluded for me to do the heart with him,"

You point at Al-haitham, a soft fond smile spreads across your lips remembering how he begrudgingly agreed to make a finger heart with you.

"And the rest would just make a heart with their hands!" You chirped, putting your phone back in your pocket. Elisa nods her head, a faint yet noticeable blush tinting her cheeks. "I see..."

Elisa sits there across from you, contemplating something all the while you begin to hum a soft tone and sip your drink. You both stayed silent (not that you minded), doing your own thing. Elisa occasionally glanced up at you, watching your every move and your face.

If, in the end, she helps you get that stalker in jail and lock him up.. would you help her hook her up with one of them? Just the thought itself makes her feel all giddy.

After an hour you decide to pack up your things and clock off, you were more than happy with the fact that your new friend, Elisa, would help you catch your stalker but you couldn't get your hopes up too high just yet.

You waved goodbye to Elisa and the owner before opening the door, the wind chimes tinkling with the wind. "Hey—Wait up!" Turning around you could see Elisa running towards you, her tote bag hanging on her shoulder as she rushed towards you.

"How about I walk you home? You must not feel safe nowadays.." She stated, scanning your face in the hopes of finding her answer quickly. "I guess so, thank you once again." A faint smile appears on your lips before turning around and holding the door open for her.

The walk back home was peaceful, you felt quite safe around Elisa. Besides, no person who would want to attack someone would do it out in broad daylight.. especially not when they had another person with them.

You made little talk during the walk back, opting to stay a bit quieter as you noticed how Elisa seemed to really be thinking hard. Maybe she was planning to catch the man? Either way, you shouldn't disturb her.

Finally, you reach your home, walking up to the front door you fumble for the keys in your bag. After finding it you slid it into the keyhole before turning it followed by the sound of a "click!".

You were finally home.

Turning around you waved goodbye to Elisa with a smile. "See you soon!" Elisa waved back and eye your home, so this is where you lived. It was a modest and simple.

Stepping into your home you closed the door behind you and locked it before placing your bag down and hurriedly kicking off your shoes, "I'm home!" You yelled out, taking off your jacket and placing it over a chair.

The sounds of people scurrying could be heard, and that's when you spotted Aether speed walking towards you, the others surrounding him running after him (more like you) was a funny sight and before you knew it Aether was embracing you lovingly in his arms.

"I missed you so much Y/N!" Aether blurts out, his cheek pressed against yours. "We, We missed you too Y/N" Diluc clears his throat, clearly not liking how Aether was hogging you all up.

As a bicker between the boys ensues with the attempt of Scaramouche trying to pry Aether and Heizou off of you, a small snicker escapes your lips. The scene itself was hilarious but this was what you really needed after a long day.

Scara, Heizou and Aether stopped fighting and turned to face you along with the rest of the men, some of the others were in your bedroom (they knew you were here but stayed in your room knowing you'd come in and greet them sooner or later).

"I missed you guys too." A small smile breaks outs as you pat Aether's head. With no delay, they began to fight once again, why? Apparently, you had given Childe the look that Itto saw.

Despite all the ruckus they caused (not that you're complaining but sometimes it gets out of hand, but you have the help of the others!), you still loved them regardless and enjoyed their presence.

The weekend soon came over (thank the Lord) and you could finally relax. Currently you were sitting on the floor with your back pressed up against the couch, Kaeya laid on your lap, his head resting on your thighs and boy was he in heaven.

It was as if your thighs and his head were meant to be... the perfect combo. Baizhu sat next to you, sipping on a juice box (he had grown quite fond of them) while watching the TV.

Wriothesley was sitting by your other side, chatting with Cyno, Venti and Kazuha. Yes, it was an odd sight to see them all interacting when they were all different from one another but it was cute at the same time, they were all talking about their experiences back in Teyvat.

(Cough cough Y/N please come back to Teyvat cough cough)

All the while Thoma along with Ayato were making lunch in the kitchen, it was always either Thoma, Aether or Ayato cooking but it wasn't like you were complaining.

Not only that but you were dead set on learning to bake with them, so now you had something to be looking forward to next week where you would begin your baking lessons.

As you sit there watching the TV with the men and stuffing your mouth with chips you suddenly feel a buzz next to your leg. Looking down you notice your phone screen lighting up from a text sent to you by... Elisa?

You picked up your phone and began to type back.

El: Y/N! you on? i got some really good news!

Y/N: i'm on! and really? you gotta tell me asap

You see the small chat bubble of Elisa typing, you felt butterflies in the pit of your stomach as you watch her type until she sends her message.

El: we caught the guy :) long story short when i went back home i talked to my father about it and just by a chance he said that there were multiple other reports of people reporting a strange man following them and other coincidences and all...

El: my father began to search for the man on his own and guess what! he saw the same exact described man just walking around the park looking super suspicious.. i mean how stupid can a man be!! 😭

A grin spreads on your cheeks as you let out a sigh of relief, thank God... you were expecting this case to be dragged on for a bit as you've seen from the movies but ultimately it wasn't and for the better too!

After sending a message back to her, you couldn't stop yourself from profusely thanking her and her help to which she said it was no problem.

It felt as if a large boulder was lifted from your shoulders as your shoulders dropped. "Oh finally.." You muttered to yourself, closing your phone shut and placing it back down.

"Everything alright?" Kaeya questioned as he stared at your phone and back at you. "You seem quite happy." Looking down at Kaeya you smiled and nodded your head.

"Mhm, I'm really happy right now, it's nothing much don't worry." Kaeya doesn't respond but rather turns around before wrapping his arms around your waist, snuggling his face in your stomach.

You were used to his affection, this was nothing compared to the other things he does. Sigh.

This whole ordeal didn't feel real, you were thankful it was over, yes, but it felt so.. quick. You were feeling uneasy and on edge for weeks but then in a day it just ends?

It didn't feel real, but it was, and you were more than happy. As you were thinking about everything you were dragged out of your thoughts by Cyno's voice.

"Hey Y/N! Want to hear some new jokes I made up just right now?" Cyno's eyes glisten with anticipation as he watches you. "Hmmm, sure why not?" The smile on your face didn't waver as you noticed how giddy Cyno looked, adorable.

Before you knew it you were laughing and tearing up how stupid yet funny Cyno's jokes were, the jokes themselves weren't so.. funny but the way he delivered them sure did something to you.

Cyno stared at you in awe as you clutched your stomach from laughter, wiping away your tears. "W—wait say t-that again! Say it again!" You cried, unable to hold back your laughter.

"Say no more!"

And in the end, you were literally sprawled out on the floor, trying your best to catch a breath. After a couple of minutes you spot Diluc right above you, Diluc crouched down and eyed you.

"Time to get up now, it's not the best to stay down on the dirty floor." You groaned at his words and closed your eyes, you felt fine and it was quite relaxing anyway.

Despite your protests to stay down and relax Diluc repositioned himself and scooped you up like it was nothing in bridal style. Not that you were complaining though.

"How come redhead can carry Y/N but we don't?" Heizou whispered to Aether. "I don't know.. because you don't... try?" "True that.. wait redhead?"

Next thing you know you were resting on Diluc's thighs (a coincidence for Kaeya to be on your thighs and now you're on Diluc's..) and staring at the men (Cyno, Itto, Wriothesley.. managed to pull him in somehow, and Thoma) below you play UNO.

"Hmmm.." You softly hummed to yourself, trying to brainstorm some ideas on what to do tomorrow as it was still the weekend, maybe shopping? No, too boring. Maybe a park...?

A park seemed like a good idea, there was a lot of space and the one you were thinking of going to wasn't too crowded and barely any people went there unless to walk their dogs.

While in your thought you felt Diluc tap your shoulder. "Thinking of something?" He asked, eyes meeting yours. You sigh and turn so that your back is on his thighs. "Yeah, what do you think of going out somewhere tomorrow? Just a park, you know."

"A park, you say?" Diluc repeated as he gave it some thought, it didn't sound too bad, besides, they've been in your house for wayyyy too long.

So why not?

"Of course, I'm sure the rest would be relieved to finally go outside and play around." Diluc held a smile as his eyes waved to the men beside him and around the living room. "I hope it goes well" You mumbled.

"I'm sure it will."

note: ?!?!!? YAY i finally finished it after a month I AM SO SORRY FOR HOLDING IT OFF FOR SO SO LONG

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[thatneoncrisis]

could you explain your reasoning for butch harrow? im asking this in a way a student asks a master

ok so. up top: do i think harrow is butch in canon? no. god no. absolutely not. secret third category of person. not butch or femme shes just like A Guy who really fucking likes black

however i do think that between those two ends of a nebulous spectrum, being butch would be way more comfortable for her than femme, if we think of it in the most traditional sense for both sides. there are literally exceptions to every rule femmes can have short hair and wear pants, butches can have long hair and wear makeup yadda yadda. but the way she interacts with certain elements of her presentation in canon just felt to ME, PERSONALLY, that being traditionally feminine would freak her the fuck out

ive seen people compare her compulsion to wear the skull paint to a need to wear makeup and i. very much disagree. id see it more as like, an overtly religious thing, like a nuns habit or a hijab, its modesty and how she shows respect for her god, also routine, its as natural as putting on pants for her. and also frankly if it was an analog for traditional makeup that would be uuuuh awful. like I genuinely feel terrible for women who cannot even leave the house without foundation or contouring or whatever i dont know shit about makeup but holy fuck. if shes femme in that analog id be shaking her by the shoulders GIRL. YOU HAVE GOT TO BE A NAKED ANIMAL

another thing is her hair. so many people read her having short hair and immediately went to a bob or a pixie cut. and between tamsyns inconsistent description of the length of her hair in book one (saying its stuck to her face with sweat despite them being there for like, a month) and the htn cover being The best image we have of her, i understand that conclusion. but in the beginning of gtn its said its close cropped, tamsyn said on her blog post describing all the characters its "cut short (as benefits someone in a monestary)" which is a very interesting choice of words tbh. like im sute she didnt mean harrow is completely bald in the middle with a ring of hair but that Is the monk haircut. and then finally harrow says to gideon outright "i wont cut you bald-even though your hair is ridiculous- because I know you wont shave it every day" which i always took to mean being shaved down to the scalp is just how the ninth is traditionally. in harrow the ninth its said "occasionally ticklish rasps at your ears or forehead would frighten you numb before you realized ut was your own hair" indicating that she is not used to that length at all. also theres the fact that ianthe made her hair grow faster particularly to fuck with her. in short harrows haircut is shitty and utilitarian and any fussing with it has only been described in relation to her direct discomfort

finally theres that goddamn dress scene. why did ianthe put her in that stupid fucking thing. humilation tactic (im exaggerating but it basically was explicitly and exclusively for ianthes own amusement). shes such a simple girl, she just wanted something that could cover her up. its not impossible to have a longsleeved formless dress, but beyond my own opinion that i think harrow would have been uncomfortable in anything, i think the fact this like, explicit symbol of femininity is used to further degrade her in some sense in a room full of people who font reapect her feels like. intentional on the authors end. it quite literally just isnt her, its not even a true black its like a deep midnight blue. you get the pretty woman makeover scene but harrow comes out of it more miserable and resigned than ever. augustines approval means nothing. she looks in the mirror and sees her mother, a woman she appears to not have a single fond memory about. its all very sad

tldr when i talk about butch harrow its less about her "being butch" and more about how unfemme i think she is. also i want more butch4butch dykes i think gideon and camilla should teach her how to tie a tie.

[nightcolorz]

Could you tell me your interpretation of why the Devil's minion split up after qotd? I only read up to that book and i've been learning through spoilers

omg I love this question! I personally think it was sort of an inevitability. Armand and Daniel were super unstable, on and off again-y while Daniel was human, and the binding factor that kept them together was that Armand was a vampire and Daniel was a human. Daniel can’t stay away from Armand for long because he’s obsessed and enthralled with everything monstrous and other about him (he’s also quite literally addicted to his blood). Daniel is so attached to Armand partly I think because he desperately wants to experience vampirism and after the affair with Louis he can’t see a reality for himself without vampirism in his life—whenever he tries to live normally he has that nagging reminder that their r supernatural wonderful things he will never be a part of and it drives him crazy.

Armand is in love with Daniel because he’s fascinated by all the things that make Daniel human. He considers him his link to the “modern age” and the thing that connects him to what he craves the most (humanity). Armand finds it very difficult to connect with people and by extension the world after how isolated he’s been for a good chunk of his immortality, and connection is very important to him. Daniel is how he experiences that. Armand also I think very much envies humans and wishes in a way to return to his humanity, and in this he finds experiencing humanity through daniel and seeing it in him very enthralling and special. Also Armand considers Daniel a mirror to how he was as a human (immature, lustful, brave, obsessed with the supernatural, doomed to failure), and Armand is very very frightened of seeing someone who he considers an embodiment of all he loves about humanity and a representative of the naivety he once had fall down his same path and loose it all to madness and immortal hell.

and obviously this is a huge issue!! Because Daniel loves Armand for his vampirism and Armand loves Daniel for his humanity, and both of them fundamentally want to abandon the thing the other prizes them for. But the tragedy there is that it’s not so superficial!! They also just love each other in a simpler, more personal sense. Daniel feels free with Armand, he feels like he can be the insane person he rlly is when they’re together. Armand gives Daniel access to the type of unhinged freedom and intense connection that he wants from life. He’s a walking subject Daniel can study, someone who never stops being fascinating (perfect for a journalist). And he loves his layers and his complexity, all the gross and horrible parts of him. Daniel first falls for Armand when he hears him genuinely laugh. <3, For armand, Daniel basically the only person who’s rlly ever seen him for who he is and loved him for it. Armand has a pattern of being shaped by people into something else, or misperceived and loved for that false image, and Daniel is in love with all the worst parts of armand. He loves him for everything he is, Daniel even says he’s an Armand expert lol. He sees it all and he loves it. And Armand is experiencing this type of unconditionality for the first time. There’s real connection there! The issue is that despite this so much of their relationship is built upon the vampire and human dynamic and it’s super hard to move past that.

The choice that Armand makes when he turns Daniel is “do I value Daniel more then I value his humanity and what that represents” and of course, Armand chooses Daniel, even tho it breaks him to do what he considers to be unforgivable to this person he loves so deeply. Armand vowed very early on that he would never turn a person into a vampire. And it’s cuz Armand rlly doesn’t like being a vampire 😭 He knows he wasn’t supposed to be a vampire, his maker goes around talking all the time about how armand was a mistake he should have never made and he’s fucked up bcus of how vampirism has affected him. And Armand knows that bcus of this he is a distortion of whatever person he could have been, and he’s always longing to understand part of what he’s missing. it’s rlly pretty sad. And so it makes sense that Armand would hate to take on the responsibility of, as he sees it, potentially ruining someone he loves. But he’d rather have Daniel alive than dead, so he turns him. Already this is hard on Armand bcus he considers it a selfish defeat to turn Daniel, choosing his own feelings over what he knows would be best for him. Daniel meanwhile is thrilled. Not off to a great start already

so Daniel was turned under insane circumstances and Armand and him have very little time to process any of it. Daniel is afraid to take life which isn’t abnormal in itself, but it freaks them both out. Once the insanity of queen of the damned settles down and Daniel and Armand r living together as a vampire x vampire couple at night island the issues begin to set in. There’s a huge disconnect now, Daniel is thrilled to be experiencing vampirism as he’s always wanted, Armand is grieving daniels humanity, neither of them r talking about it. Also, Daniel still has his addictive personality and his mental health issues which r exasperated by being a new vampire, so ofc he’s kind of loopy and kind of unstable. And Armand is realizing this and he’s thinking oh my god I’ve ruined Daniel I’ve destroyed the person I love the most, I’ve taken this person who I consider just like myself when I was a human and I’ve repeated the cycle of destruction, I destroy everything I touch oh my god. And I imagine this thought pattern led to Armand distancing himself from Daniel and being agitated and off putting, and I can say that being rlly excited about a change that ur partner is passive aggressively hostile about is like actual hell.

And the kicker!!! Armand’s primary mode of communication with his loved ones is the mind gift. It’s basically his safety net, in tvl it’s explained that Armand rarely ever talks out loud because he finds speaking through his mind much more comfortable. He uses the mind gift to express his feelings when he can’t with words, which is a pretty handy tool in a relationship when ur someone who struggles with verbal communication. But when Armand turns Daniel!! He can not communicate through the mind gift with him anymore!! So basically all these issues Armand is having and all this grief and stress and resentment is being left unsaid, and therefore unresolved. A couple can nottt get over an issue they aren’t talking about.

I imagine Armand felt like daniels vampirism was a huge barrier blocking him from ever connecting with him as he did ever again. Which!! Obviously Daniel will notice that Armand is giving up on him, and old patterns begin to resurface. They don’t have the “Daniel wants to be a vampire but Armand doesn’t want to turn him” argument anymore, but they do have a tension that is being left both unresolved and not understood by either party. All they know is the spark is fading and there’s resentment and there’s pain. And that tension, with these crazies, results in big blow out yelling matches and crying and “I’m leaving u for good this time I mean it!!”

so in conclusion, what I think happened with Daniel and Armand after qotd is that combined with his preexisting issues and his vampirism inflicted overstimulation, Armand’s bitterness and his distance drives Daniel to a mental break, and after some fight or another he leaves night island and vows to never return. Daniel is in a very vulnerable mental state as an already mentally ill new vampire. Vampirism has a very overwhelming effect on some people where the change to sensory processing makes it hard for some vampires to function fully on their on because of how difficult it is for them to process information. And daniels got that. I feel like he could have possibly made it through well with a strong support system, open communication, and guidance on how to navigate this new life, but obviously he didn’t have that.

When Daniel was a human he’d do this often, leaving, but then he’d realize he couldn’t live without Armand and come back. But when Daniel is so out of his mind he gets distracted by a light bulb or smth, he doesn’t come back. Maybe he would have if he was in his right mind, but he’s lost it and there’s not the safety net of Armand’s mind gift to come and locate him. So Marius finds him, decides that Armand is too broken and immature to ever care for his own fledgling, and he takes him in. And I figure that Armand’s guilt becomes unbearable after this, and he internalizes the assumption that he isn’t fit to have his own functioning relationships bcus of his issues, and he gives up on Daniel completely. Of course until the pl trilogy when they r able to re connect!

so yeah!! That’s my interpretation, loved this ask thank u for letting me yap. I hope this was coherent lol. Thank u sm!

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

Don't Get Attached | Drabble Series

"I'd rip anything off you,"

“Y/n, are you still mad at me?” Junkook’s breathless voice echoes in the men’s washroom as the two of you exit the tiny stall. Chest heaving up, you run your fingers through your curls before wiping the smeared lipstick off of your face. 

“Why would I be? Mhm? I looove the sight of my ripped dress on the dirty floor,” you scoff, rolling your eyes as your arms fold over your chest which was left covered by the mere fabric of the lacy bra. Just a few minutes ago, you were so immersed in the pleasure of Jungkook’s slender fingers that it took you a good second to realize why you could suddenly feel the cool breeze all over your body. 

“To be fair, I’d rip anything off you,” he says softly, hands inching closer to your waist as his broad shoulders cage your form under him. Arms on either side of you, he leans closer, tilting his head to the side to meet your furrowed gaze before noticing the goosebumps covering your soft skin. 

“Koo …” you whisper, placing your hands on his blazer as his sly smirk slowly softens looking down at your doe eyes. It doesn’t take much for him to fold, just the innocence in your gaze is enough of a motive for him to lift your body onto the countertop. And, as your legs naturally spread apart, the tiny space between you two welcomes him in, as if reserved solely for his touch. 

“I’m sorry baby, you know I don’t do too well with sundresses,” Jungkook mumbles, tucking a few stray curls behind your ear before giving your pouty lips a quick peck. 

“Well, now what? I’m literally naked,” you chuckle from the disbelief, leaning back on the stained mirror. For some context, tonight is your friend’s big gallery exhibition and Jungkook was supposed to be your plus one. But now, it seems like the only exhibition the two of you came to watch is your own mirror sex. To be quite frank, you’re not even sure how it all escalated to this. One second the two of you were arguing about who was more artistically gifted and the next you watched him pin your arms over your head as his thrusts gradually increased in speed. 

“Fine by me. Just the way I like it,” Jungkook says with a grin, nibbling on his lip rings as his eyes scan his favourite canvas. 

“Koo, I’m serious. I can’t go out like this in front of all our friends,” you snap him out of it before slightly pushing him off of you. 

“Here, put this on,” he says, handing you his blazer. “Now, we’re even,” a teasing chuckle escapes his parted lips as he unbuttons his black dress shirt, exposing his sculpted chest and the silver chain that would usually dangle over you. 

“I’m not sure how this is supposed to help us hide the fact that we just fucked,” 

“Who said I wanted to hide it?” Jungkook replies with a sly wink before opening the door, eyes following your every move as his blazer covered just enough of your skin to eliminate possible suspicion. As far as everyone else is concerned, this is a fashion statement. 

“I would lay you down on top of this piano if you’d let me. Listen to the echoes of your pretty moans bounce off the brick walls, giving these people the pleasure of some real live music,” the sound of his raspy voice dragging behind shifts your attention back to your needy boyfriend as you turn around to see him manspreading on the wooden piano bench. 

“What an intriguing offer, unfortunately, all you do is talk, pretty boy,” you tease, as the sound of your heels inching closer to him adds to the heated tension. 

“Don’t do that, y/n,” 

“Do what?” 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” his hooded eyes shoot up, hands tracing circles on your exposed thighs. 

“I think I’ll be just fine,” 

“I know you will. I’m more concerned about myself. When it comes to you I seem to lose all control,” 

“Oh? I’m sorry?” you attempt to act shocked, blinking your naive eyes as to create an image of pure innocence. 

“No, you’re not,” Jungkook scoffs, jerking his head back, and pulling you onto his lap as your lips rest inches apart. 

“I’m not. I like the taste of dominance,” you give into a quick peck before straddling his thighs, earning a slight hiss.  

“And, I like the taste of you. To each their own, I guess,” Jungkook mumbles the last part before pulling you into a deep kiss. Tongues fighting for the said dominance, the space between your heaving bodies is no longer apparent. And, as your hands trail up his warm chest you could feel him smirk into the kiss, his grip tightening around your waist.

“Koo,” you manage to let out a hitched breath before cupping his face which was busy leaving trails of purple marks on your collarbone. 

“Do we have to go back? We can put on our own show at home. I’ll be the artist and you can be my muse, mhm? How does that sound?” he virtually pleads, eyes sparkling under the dim lights of the hall. 

“No way one sundress got you this needy,” you can’t help but giggle, gaze softening at his vulnerable state.  

“You could walk out wearing a sack of potatoes and I’d still beg on my knees,” 

“What will you do if we break up?” you ask hushedly, caressing his soft hair. 

“Oh, there’s no breaking up, baby. I’m too consumed now,” Jungkook grins, sneaking his hands under your blazer before earning a soft yelp from your parted lips. 

“And what if I’m not?” you say teasingly, slowly straddling your hips back and forth, innocent eyes locked on his darkened gaze. Of course, you are, but what’s the fun in admitting your weakness? 

“You’re not?” he asks, smirking at the way your mouth slights parts as his thumb rubs circles over your throbbing heat. You might be his weakness but you also stand no chance when his possessive side takes over. 

“I said if,” you whisper, chest heaving up from the suffocating tension. 

“I’ll make sure you are. Make sure you’re mine,”

Don't Get Attached Masterlist

[sunkeji]

Scenarios of Ace and Deuce being your bffs who both have a crush on you

a/n: forgot to post,my bad!

tags: mentions of reader wearing a skirt in the 3rd section; lmk if I missed anything.

synopsis: Daily scenarios of Ace and Deuce being your bffs and them both having a crush on you

when you, Ace, Deuce and Grim get punished and tasked to clean the animal enclosure; specifically the hedgehogs, the first 15 minutes are spent actually doing your jobs and then you all collectively get distracted by each other.

Deuce has the brilliant idea to make bets on the hedgehogs and you all immediately agree except the hedgehogs scatter in different directions. In the end, a ridiculous debate ensues on whose hedgehog would have potentially, won the race

***

If you guys have a considerably long break between lessons, the four of you would head back to Ramshackle to play whatever card or board games are available with the ghosts.

quite a handful of times you guys lose track of time and have to fly back to the mirror (literally), through the halls (and hoping you don't get caught) and into the classroom.

Your positions on the broom are predetermined as follows: Deuce Infront, you in the middle with Grim on your lap and Ace behind you. Deuce gets to drive(?) because he has more experience in driving recklessly but safely...

Deuce was initially a bit shy because you're holding onto him but after a few more occurrences of the same thing, he got used to it. The giddy feeling he gets whenever you wrap your hands around his waist and the warmth emanating from your body never goes away though.

Grim is just happy because some type of chaos is going on and he gets to keep warm being sandwiched between you and Deuce. If you ever lean your body forward onto Deuce's, he might start feeling faint and lose his concentration on flying.

Ace is absolutely having the time of his life behind you because he gets to HOLD YOU. And if Deuce isn't driving steady enough, he has more of an excuse to hold you tighter. He would also try his luck each time and see how far he can go. Would you allow him to lean on you completely? Rest his head on your shoulder? The possibilities are endless.

***

Whenever the Aduece duo are hanging out in your room and are left unsupervised for too long, they'd either enable each other into doing stupid shit or start bickering. In this case, it's the former scenario.

You left them to their own devices while you went back to the classroom to get one of the books you needed to complete a homework assignment.

Usually they'd want to follow you because hey, you get to spend more time with the person you like, What more could you want?

But since the person they like doesn't originate from the same region, better yet same dimension; what better way to learn more about your crush then to snoop around their room?

So they do snoop around and after looking through your personal belongings on the shelves and drawers, they move on to your wardrobe.

Out of sheer curiosity, Ace opens your wardrobe and finds your clothes. His eyes straight away land on the skirts that are hanged neatly and immediately has a brilliant idea.

By the time you get back to Ramshackle and open the door, you're rendered speechless by what you're seeing. Both Ace and Deuce are wearing your skirts and are taking mirror selfies all while posing in cute positions.

The image you see before you is truly baffling that you still hadn't moved; seeing this, Ace flips his phone to you and takes a picture of your shocked expression. Definitely posts everything on magicam (idk how to spell it)

[hannieehaee]

hello!! can i please a kwan drabble with dom seungkwan where he sees u really turned on and squirmy watching him at practice bc he dances with a very serious/mean expression and ur imagining how mean he can be in bed? so he shows u after?

18+ / mdi

content: softdom!seungkwan, afab reader, smut, semi-public sex, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1659

a/n: i sinned again and wrote softdom!kwan instead of dom!kwan sorryyyy i realized im just not good at writing full on dom lol i hope u still enjoy<3

masterlist

despite popular belief, seungkwan wasn't always as soft and adorable as people had a tendency to claim.

he was an idol after all, which always came with an insane level of duality. while at some moments he could make your heart melt with his cute demeanor, there were other times in which his behavior on stage could not help but leave you wanting more.

as his girlfriend, you had been made privy of all sides of seungkwan. however, he was usually extra sweet towards you. even though your dynamic between each other had vast variety, most of the time seungkwan treated you like royalty, tending to you more often than not.

due to this, you'd always kind of had a preconceived notion of your boyfriend. you saw him like a softie. a man who lives to coo at you and take care of you in ways that were often unnecessary but always appreciated (i mean no one needed to be literally spoon fed, yet seungkwan would sometimes insist on it).

now, however, you were seeing quite a different image of your boyfriend.

you had seen seungkwan perform plenty of times. had attended many of his concerts overseas, even. but you had never truly gotten such a close glimpse of this seungkwan before. it was as if his on-stage persona had blended in with the sweet seungkwan you were so used to.

you were currently in the hybe practice room along with all thirteen members and a few close staff. it had only been about an hour since the boys had started practicing, but their bodies were already drenched in sweat and their minds consumed by the task at hand.

as per usual, there were a few members who would get a little extra serious whenever it came to rehearsing. while some would goof off a bit, others would even take on an entire different personality as the performance consumed them. you'd always observe the former to be chan, soonyoung, and maybe sometimes vernon. but this time your boyfriend had joined in and become completely consumed by his reflection in the mirror as he meticulously monitored even the slightest flick of his hand.

by then you were practically just a nameless spectator. your presence did not matter as you simply sat in silence, equally consumed by the sight of your boyfriend. he had a face of extreme concentration, with his eyebrows furrowed in what one could sense to be anger. accompanied by his frown was a harsh disposition you had yet to see in your boyfriend. he was becoming visibly frustrated by any slight mistake he committed, roughing up his water bottle whenever he stopped for a quick drink and adding a little extra sharpness to every one of his movements (even while he wasnt dancing).

although embarrassed by it, you were starting to feel a certain type of way at seeing your boyfriend like this.

you had heard stories of his anger coming out while rehearsing with the members. fights that had come up among them; sometimes little spats while other times dragged-out feuds. you had never witnessed any of these, but deep down you had wanted to. specially now, getting a taste of how he looked when he was feeling angry.

you tried ro remain calm, you really did. distracting him when he was so focused and in the zone would just be a disturbance to not only him but also to the members. but who could blame you? for months you'd been craving to see a different side of your boyfriend, one that was a little mean. and now you maybe would have the chance of riling him up a bit more than he already was.

which was why the next time he took a quick five-minute break from dancing to check in on you, you decided to play a bit dirty and whisper in his ear.

what you said to him, you'll never reveal. but it gave you the results you wanted as seungkwan immediately blushed and lost all bravado he previously had, making a dumb excuse to the members of why he'd need to take an extended break with you for a while.

that's how you led him into an empty changing room in the hybe hallways and cornered him, but you still had work to do. getting your boyfriend to fuck you was easy, but what you wanted was for your boyfriend to be mean to you. you wanted to bring back that angry and frustrated boy that had been unknowingly seducing you just mere moments ago.

for now the two of you just kissed. it was rough and nasty, with kwannie moaning against your lips as you manhandled him against the wall, whining when you created space between the two of you.

"kwannie ... want you to be mean to me," you breathed against his neck as you undid the buttons of his shirt.

"h– huh? mean?", he sounded surprised.

"yeah, kwannie. like back during practice. looked so angry and frustrated. kept cursing under your breath, it was so hot ..."

"oh ... was i– was i being mean? i– "

"no, but i want you to be. please?"

he kept stammering at you, breath heavy from your touches.

"what is it, baby? cant give me what i want? do you think maybe then one of the guys could? how about wonwoo? he seems like he cou– "

"don't finish that sentence unless you want me to get really mean."

finally.

mustering all the strength he had seemingly been hiding, your boyfriend twisted you around, getting your hands off him and bending you over a nearby table, with your chest now pressed up against the table and your hands being held behind your back.

"want mean? i'll give you mean. just remember you asked for it."

he let go of your hands to undo his pants, and then you made the mistake of moving your arms to get into a more comfortable position.

"did i say you could move?," he swatted your hands and put them back in place, "dont make me tie you up."

you felt chills at this, causing your ass to try and push back against his front. this only got a mocking laugh out of him.

"you're not in charge here, angel. move again and i'll make sure you won't move all week."

"but kwannie ..."

"did i say you could talk? you're gonna sit there like a good girl and take whatever i give you. you asked me to be mean, so im being mean," once his length was out he harshly pulled your own pants down, leaving you in just your thin panties, "you insinuated wanting to fuck one of my members because you were just so god damn thirsty for some dick, so im fucking you. what else can a brat possibly want?"

you said nothing, simply letting out a whine and a huff of frustration.

"good girl. not talking just like i asked. now im gonna fuck you, im gonna fill you up, and you're gonna go back into the practice room and not let a single drop go to waste, okay?", he asked as he pressed his cock against your folds, having moved your panties out of the way, "want a verbal answer this time, brat."

"yes, kwannie ..."

and then came the harshest fucking of your life.

he felt no remorse nor care for your cunt, hammering into it with all the strength and frustration he had been feeling all throughout dance practice for the past few hours.

"you know, im so fucking nice to you. i, fuck, i give you everything. i take care of you," he paused to readjust himself a bit, "i make love to you every day. i bring you to see the world with me, but that's not enough? huh? need me to be mean to you?"

"k– kwannie!", he kept rutting his hips against yours with the most force you'd ever felt for him, making the filthiest sounds as his hips slammed against your ass and your juices mixed.

"should i have been mean to you all this time, baby? should i have thrown away all the gifts and flowers and used you like a toy?", you couldnt see him, but you knew he mustve had that angry look in his eye that you'd been thirsting after just moments ago.

his hand snuck under your panties, digging his finger in to play with your clit roughly and carelessly.

you knew your end was arriving embarrassingly fast, you just hoped that maybe this was affecting him as much as it did you.

"cum, fuck ... cum for me, beatiful," he sighed, starting to slouch against you. even when he was being mean he couldnt help in being nice to you.

you covered your mouth with your hand as you came, muffling your scream at the sudden increase in speed from your boyfriend's thrusts, who was just entering his high along with you.

it took the both of you a few moments to catch your breaths and calm down. you winced the moment he removed himself from you and pulled up your pants again without giving a care for the juices he had just released into you.

despite your limp extremities, you managed to turn around and face your spent boyfriend. his face was flushed and his hair was sticking to his skin. he still had that furrow in his eyebrow and his breath was heavy. it was reminiscent of the look that got you into this situation in the first place.

"was that too mean?", he chuckled shyly, now caressing your cheek with his hand.

"no, kwannie. that was perfect. thank you," you turned your face to give a sweet peck to his palm.

"so, want me to be mean from now on?"

"no, i love sweet kwannie just fine. just .... maybe every once in a while?"

he scoffed, "oh, absolutely. i think i needed that."

[cy-cyborg]

Dealing with Healing and Disability in fantasy: Writing Disability

[ID: An image of the main character from Eragon, a white teenage boy with blond hair in silver armour as he sits, with his hand outstretched. On his hand is a glowing blue mark. He is visibly straining as he attempts to heal a large creature in front of him. /End ID]

I'm a massive fan of the fantasy genre, which is why it's so incredibly frustrating when I see so much resistance to adding disability representation to fantasy works. People's go-to reason for leaving us out is usually something to the effect of "But my setting has magic so disability wouldn't exist, it can just be healed!" so let's talk about magic, specifically healing magic, in these settings, and how you can use it without erasing disability from your story.

Ok, let's start with why you would even want to avoid erasing disability from a setting in the first place. I talked about this in a lot more detail in my post on The Miracle Cure. this line of thinking is another version of this trope, but applied to a whole setting (or at least, to the majority of people in the setting) instead of an individual, so it's going to run into the same issues I discussed there. To summarise the points that are relevant to this particular version of the trope though:

Not every disabled person wants or needs a cure - many of us see our disability as a part of our identity. Do difficulties come with being disabled? absolutely! It's literally part of the definition, but for some people in the disabled community, if you took our disabilities away, we would be entirely different people. While it is far from universal, there is a significant number of us who, if given a magical cure with no strings attached, would not take it. Saying no one in your setting would be disabled because these healing spells exists ignores this part of the community.

It messes with the stakes of your story - Just like how resurrecting characters or showing that this is something that is indeed possible in the setting can leave your audience feeling cheated or like they don't have to worry about a character *actually* ever dying. healing a character's disability, or establishing that disability doesn't exist in your setting because "magic" runs into the same problem. It will leave your readers or viewers feeling like they don't have to worry about your characters getting seriously hurt because it will only be temporary, which means your hero's actions carry significantly less risk, which in turn, lowers the stakes and tension if not handled very, very carefully.

It's an over-used trope - quite plainly and simply, this trope shows up a lot in the fantasy genre, to the point where I'd say it's just overused and kind of boring.

So with the "why should you avoid it" covered, let's look at how you can actually handle the topic.

Limited Access and Expensive Costs

One of the most common ways to deal with healing and disability in a fantasy setting, is to make the healing magic available, but inaccessible to most of the population. The most popular way to do that is by making the services of a magical healer capable of curing a disability really expensive to the point that most people just can't afford it. If this is the approach you're going to use, you also typically have to make that type of magic quite rare. To use D&D terms, if every first level sorcerer, bard, cleric and druid can heal a spinal injury, it's going to result in a lot of people who are able to undercut those massive prices and the expense will drop as demand goes down. If that last sentence didn't give you a hint, this is really popular method in stories that are critiquing capitalistic mindsets and ideologies, and is most commonly used by authors from the USA and other countries with a similar medical system, since it mirrors a lot of the difficulties faced by disabled Americans. If done right, this approach can be very effective, but it does need to be thought through more carefully than I think people tend to do. Mainly because a lot of fantasy stories end with the main character becoming rich and/or powerful, and so these prohibitively expensive cure become attainable by the story's end, which a lot of authors and writer's just never address. Of course, another approach is to make the availability of the magic itself the barrier. Maybe there just aren't that many people around who know the magic required for that kind of healing, so even without a prohibitive price tag, it's just not something that's an option for most people. If we're looking at a D&D-type setting, maybe you need to be an exceptionally high level to cast the more powerful healing spell, or maybe the spell requires some rare or lost material component. I'd personally advise people to be careful using this approach, since it often leads to stories centred around finding a miracle cure, which then just falls back into that trope more often than not.

Just outright state that some characters don't want/need it

Another, admittedly more direct approach, is to make it that these "cures" exist and are easily attainable, but to just make it that your character or others they encounter don't want or need it. This approach works best for characters who are born with their disabilities or who already had them for a long time before a cure was made available to them. Even within those groups though, this method works better with some types of characters than others depending on many other traits (personality, cultural beliefs, etc), and isn't really a one-size-fits-all solution, but to be fair, that's kind of the point. Some people will want a cure for their disabilities, others are content with their body's the way they are. There's a few caveats I have with this kind of approach though:

you want to make sure you, as the author, understand why some people in real life don't want a cure, and not just in a "yeah I know these people exist but I don't really get it" kind of way. I'm not saying you have to have a deep, personal understanding or anything, but some degree of understanding is required unless you want to sound like one of those "inspirational" body positivity posts that used to show up on Instagram back in the day.

Be wary when using cultural beliefs as a reasoning. It can work, but when media uses cultural beliefs as a reason for turning down some kind of cure, it's often intending to critique extreme beliefs about medicine, such as the ones seen in some New Age Spirituality groups and particularly intense Christian churches. As a general rule of thumb, it's probably not a good idea to connect these kinds of beliefs to disabled people just being happy in their bodies. Alternatively, you also need to be mindful of the "stuck in time" trope - a trope about indigenous people who are depicted as primitive or, as the name suggests, stuck in an earlier time, for "spurning the ways of the white man" which usually includes medicine or the setting's equivalent magic. I'm not the best person to advise you on how to avoid this specific trope, but my partner (who's Taino) has informed me of how often it shows up in fantasy specifically and we both thought it was worth including a warning at least so creators who are interested in this method know to do some further research.

Give the "cures" long-lasting side effects

Often in the real world, when a "cure" for a disability does exist, it's not a perfect solution and comes with a lot of side effects. For example, if you loose part of your arm in an accident, but you're able to get to a hospital quickly with said severed arm, it can sometimes be reattached, but doing so comes at a cost. Most people I know who had this done had a lot of issues with nerve damage, reduced strength, reduced fine-motor control and often a great deal of pain with no clear source. Two of the people I know who's limbs were saved ended up having them optionally re-amputated only a few years later. Likewise, I know many people who are paraplegics and quadriplegics via spinal injuries, who were able to regain the use of their arms and/or legs. However, the process was not an easy one, and involved years of intense physiotherapy and strength training. For some of them, they need to continue to do this work permanently just to maintain use of the effected limbs, so much so that it impacts their ability to do things like work a full-time job and engage in their hobbies regularly, and even then, none of them will be able bodied again. Even with all that work, they all still experience reduced strength and reduced control of the limbs. depending on the type, place and severity of the injury, some people are able to get back to "almost able bodied" again - such was the case for my childhood best friend's dad, but they often still have to deal with chronic pain from the injury or chronic fatigue.

Even though we are talking about magic in a fantasy setting, we can still look to real-life examples of "cures" to get ideas. Perhaps the magic used has a similar side effect. Yes, your paraplegic character can be "cured" enough to walk again, but the magic maintaining the spell needs a power source to keep it going, so it draws on the person's innate energy within their body, using the very energy the body needs to function and do things like move their limbs. They are cured, but constantly exhausted unless they're very careful, and if the spell is especially strong, the body might struggle to move at all, resulting in something that looks and functions similar to the nerve damage folks with spinal injuries sometimes deal with that causes that muscle weakness and motor control issues. Your amputee might be able to have their leg regrown, but it will always be slightly off. The regrown leg is weaker and causes them to walk with a limp, maybe even requiring them to use a cane or other mobility aid.

Some characters might decide these trade-offs are worth it, and while this cures their initial disability, it leaves them with another. Others might simply decide the initial disability is less trouble than these side effects, and choose to stay as they are.

Consider if these are actually cures

Speaking of looking to the real world for ideas, you might also want to consider whether these cures are doing what the people peddling them are claiming they do. Let's look at the so-called autism cures that spring up every couple of months as an example.

Without getting into the… hotly debated specifics, there are many therapies that are often labelled as "cures" for autism, but in reality, all they are doing is teaching autistic people how to make their autistic traits less noticeable to others. This is called masking, and it's a skill that often comes at great cost to an autistic person's mental health, especially when it's a behaviour that is forced on them. Many of these therapies give the appearance of being a cure, but the disability is still there, as are the needs and difficulties that come with it, they're just hidden away. From an outside perspective though, it often does look like a success, at least in the short-term. Then there are the entirely fake cures with no basis in reality, the things you'll find from your classic snake-oil salesmen. Even in a fantasy setting where real magic exists, these kinds of scams and misleading treatments can still exist. In fact, I think it would make them even more common than they are in the real world, since there's less suspension of disbelief required for people to fall for them. "What do you mean this miracle tonic is a scam? Phil next door can conjure flames in his hand and make the plants grow with a snap of his fingers, why is it so hard to believe this tonic could regrow my missing limb?"

I think the only example of this approach I've seen, at least recently, is from The Owl House. The magic in this world can do incredible things, but it works in very specific and defined ways. Eda's curse (which can be viewed as an allegory for many disabilities and chronic illnesses) is seemingly an exception to this, and as such, nothing is able to cure it. Treat it, yes, but not cure it. Eda's mother doesn't accept this though, and seeks out a cure anyway and ends up falling for a scam who's "treatments" just make things worse.

In your own stories, you can either have these scams just not work, or kind of work, but in ways that are harmful and just not worth it, like worse versions of the examples in the previous point. Alternatively, like Eda, it's entirely reasonable that a character who's been the target of these scams before might just not want to bother anymore. Eda is a really good example of this approach handled in a way that doesn't make her sad and depressed about it either. She's tried her mum's methods, they didn't work, and now she's found her own way of dealing with it that she's happy with. She only gets upset when her boundaries are ignored by Luz and her mother.

Think about how the healing magic is actually working

If you have a magic system that leans more on the "hard magic" side of things, a great way to get around the issue of healing magic erasing disability is to stop and think about how your healing magic actually works.

My favourite way of doing this is to make healing magic work by accelerating the natural processes of your body. Your body will, given enough time (assuming it remains infection-free) close a slash from a sword and mend a broken bone, but it will never regrow it's own limbs. It will never heal damage to it's own spinal cord. It will never undo whatever causes autism or fix it's own irregularities. Not without help. Likewise, healing magic alone won't do any of these things either, it's just accelerating the existing process and usually, by extension making it safer, since a wound staying open for an hour before you get to a healer is much less likely to get infected than one that slowly and naturally heals over a few weeks. In one of my own works, I take this even further by making it that the healing magic is only accelerating cell growth and repair, but the healer has to direct it. In order to actually heal, the healer needs to know the anatomy of what they're fixing to the finest detail. A spell can reconnect a torn muscle to a bone, but if you don't understand the structures that allow that to happen in the first place, you're likely going to make things worse. For this reason, you won't really see people using this kind of magic to, say, regrow limbs, even though it technically is possible. A limb is a complicated thing. The healer needs to be able to perfectly envision all the bones, the cartilage, the tendons and ligaments, the muscles (including the little ones, like those found in your skin that make your hair stand on end and give you goose bumps), the fat and skin tissues, all the nerves, all the blood vessels, all the structures within the bone that create your blood. Everything, and they need to know how it all connects, how it is supposed to move and be able to keep that clearly in their mind simultaneously while casting. Their mental image also has to match with the patient's internal "map" of the body and the lost limb, or they'll continue to experience phantom limb sensation even if the healing is successful. It's technically possible, but the chances they'll mess something up is too high, and so it's just not worth the risk to most people, including my main character.

Put Restrictions on the magic

This is mostly just the same advice as above, but for softer magic systems. put limits and restrictions on your healing magic. These can be innate (so things the magic itself is just incapable of doing) or external (things like laws that put limitations on certain types of magic and spells).

An example of internal restriction can be seen in how some people interpret D&D's higher level healing spells like regenerate (a 7th level spell-something most characters won't have access to for quite some time). The rules as written specify that disabilities like lost limbs can be healed using this spell, but some players take this to mean that if a character was born with the disability in question, say, born without a limb, regenerate would only heal them back to their body's natural state, which for them, is still disabled.

An external restriction would be that your setting has outlawed healing magic, perhaps because healing magic carries a lot of risks for some reason, eithe to the caster or the person being healed, or maybe because the healing magic here works by selectively reviving and altering the function of cells, which makes it a form of necromancy, just on a smaller scale. Of course, you can also use the tried and true, "all magic is outlawed" approach too. In either case, it's something that will prevent some people from being able to access it, despite it being technically possible. Other external restrictions could look like not being illegal, per say, but culturally frowned upon or taboo where your character is from.

But what if I don't want to do any of this?

Well you don't have to. These are just suggestions to get you thinking about how to make a world where healing magic and disability exist, but they aren't the only ways. Just the ones I thought of.

Of course, if you'd still rather make a setting where all disability is cured because magic and you just don't want to think about it any deeper, I can't stop you. I do however, want to ask you to at least consider where you are going to draw the line. Disability, in essence, is what happens when the body stops (or never started) functioning "normally". Sometimes that happens because of an injury, sometimes it's just bad luck, but the boundary between disabled and not disabled is not as solid as I think a lot of people expect it to be, and we as a society have a lot of weird ideas about what is and isn't a disability that just, quite plainly and simply, aren't consistent. You have to remember, a magic system won't pick and choose the way we humans do, it will apply universally, regardless of our societal hang-ups about disability.

What do I mean about this?

Well, consider for a moment, what causes aging? it's the result of our body not being able to repair itself as effectively as it used to. It's the body not being able to perform that function "normally". So in a setting where all disability is cured, there would be no aging. No elderly people. No death from old age. If you erase disability, you also erase natural processes like aging. magic won't pick and choose like that, not if you want it to be consistent.

Ok, ok, maybe that's too much of a stretch, so instead, let's look at our stereotypical buff hero covered in scars because he's a badass warrior. but in a world where you can heal anything, why would anything scar? Even if it did, could another healing spell not correct that too? Scars are part of the body's natural healing process, but if no natural healing occurred, why would a scar form? Scars are also considered disabling in and of themselves too, especially large ones, since they aren't as flexible or durable as normal skin and can even restrict growth and movement.

Even common things like needing glasses are, using this definition of disability at least, a disability. glasses are a socially accepted disability aid used to correct your eyes when they do not function "normally".

Now to be fair, in reality, there are several definitions of disability, most of which include something about the impact of society. For example, in Australia (according to the Disability Royal Commission), we define disability as "An evolving concept that results from the interaction between a person with impairment(s) and attitudinal and environmental barriers that hinder their full and effective participation in society on an equal basis with others." - or in laymen's terms, the interaction between a person's impairment and societal barriers like people not making things accessible or holding misinformed beliefs about your impairment (e.g. people in wheelchairs are weaker than people who walk). Under a definition like this, things like scars and needing glasses aren't necessarily disabilities (most of the time) but that's because of how our modern society sees them. The problem with using a definition like this though to guide what your magic system will get rid of, is that something like a magic system won't differentiate between an "impairment" that has social impacts that and one that doesn't. It will still probably get rid of anything that is technically an example of your body functioning imperfectly, which all three of these things are. The society in your setting might apply these criteria indirectly, but really, why would they? Very few people like the side effects of aging on the body (and most people typically don't want to die), the issues that come with scars or glasses are annoying (speaking as someone with both) and I can see a lot of people getting rid of them when possible too. If they don't then it's just using the "not everyone wants it approach" I mentioned earlier. If there's some law or some kind of external pressure to push people away from fixing these more normalised issues, then it's using the "restrictions" method I mentioned earlier too.

Once again, you can do whatever you like with your fantasy setting, but it's something I think that would be worth thinking about at least.

[sixosix]

I DON'T WANNA HURT YOU (I JUST WANNA BE) | LYNEY

warnings 3.5k words, vague descriptions of wounds, lyney crushing already, cesar appearance:(

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“This is crazy,” Lyney whispers frantically as they stumble over their steps, eyes wide and darting all over the place. “This is insane.”

“Lyney,” his sister whispers sharply, “she can hear you.”

Lyney swallows and steals a quick glance at The Knave, yet she’s staring ahead. But with Lynette’s words, Lyney notices that she’s gotten a bit closer than before. She was listening. Not that Lyney really cared.

Lyney tightens his grip on Lynette's hand as they advance further inside. He shudders at the scathing feeling of numerous curious eyes on him, uneasy about the idea of those gazes focusing on his sister. Though he can't see her while she's hiding behind him, he senses that she has tucked her ears and tail.

“A bond stronger and thicker than blood.” Lyney blinks and realizes that The Knave has been talking to him this entire time. She doesn’t quite smile, but it’s something close as she lays her hand atop their heads. “You’ll find a family here, Lyney, Lynette. From this day forth, you’re my children, and I, your ‘Father’.” With the claws of her hands in Lyney’s view, he feels as if that’s more threatening than a promise, yet Lyney feels warm all the same.

As ‘Father’ signals for Lynette to step forward and introduce herself, Lyney remains steadfast and refuses to loosen his grip on her wrist. He scans the crowd and feels like he’s looking at mirrors—orphans staring back at him, all of whom have been compelled to build a new and found family. Someone among them waves. Lyney takes a moment to collect his thoughts before reluctantly waving back.

And then he meets your gaze. Your cold and hateful gaze.

Lyney doesn’t know what he did for you to look at him in such a way. His heart skips a beat or two, enchanted. He wants to ask, but as soon as ‘Father’ asks him to tell everyone who he is next, you have turned away and walked off, disappearing into the long hallways. Lyney’s eyes never leave your figure until you’re completely out of sight.

“Lyney,” he says, hopefully loud and confident enough for it to reach your ears. It most likely wouldn’t.

As ‘Father’ dismisses the crowd and declares her leave, Lyney guides his sister over to the other orphans, their hands clasped together. They navigate the unfamiliar surroundings, their gazes and steps wandering.

The warmth envelops him, akin to stepping into a hot shower after being left out freezing in a rainstorm. It’s been too long since he experienced that—his recollections are filled with images of his shivering form, attempting desperately to share heat with his sister, whose lips are blue and trembling. The sensation is a distant memory. It's been too long since he last felt this way.

“Who was that who left just now?” Lyney asks.

The kid is sitting criss-cross apple sauce on the floor, a plate by his feet. He picks at his food. “Hm?”

Lyney points in the direction you’ve stormed off to.

The boy snorts as he follows Lyney’s gaze. “That was Y/N. Everyone knows who she is.”

We literally have just arrived, Lyney wants to snap, but he sees no point in picking fights when ‘Father’ has just promised a bond stronger than blood or whatever. There would be no bond to match what he has with his sister—he’s sure of it.

“And…? Why did she leave?” Lyney questions slowly. He watches the kid slurp the soup until it’s empty and clean and feels his stomach growl quietly in envy.

“No one knows,” he says halfheartedly. “It’s not worth the trouble. Provoking a confrontation with Y/N is signing up for a beating, and you wouldn’t want ‘Father’ to single you out when she’s the standard. Stick with your sister.” The boy sounds terribly bitter, as if having experienced it first-hand.

“Right.” Lyney has no idea what any of that means, but his pulse thrums, excited at the prospect of a mystery.

His sister fidgets beside him. Lynette eyes Lyney warily as if reading his thoughts. Don’t cause trouble, Lyney could hear her telepathically. I wouldn’t dare, Lyney communicates with his smile.

Lyney thinks he can never be as brave as you. He wonders how you manage to stand alongside ‘Father’ so frequently and maintain such composure—looking as if that’s exactly where you belong.

You look more like a soldier than an orphan, Lyney thinks. It’s beautiful in all the wrong ways.

While he diligently enjoys his homemade warm breakfast (it’s already his second plate), Lyney poses some very crucial questions to a new friend.

His name is Freminet. He jumped out of his seat when Lyney tapped him on the shoulder as a greeting, and he said he was expecting Lyney to get annoyed by his reluctance to speak, but all Lyney told him was that he was used to his sister already. Freminet warms up to them after. Well, mostly Lynette, but befriending her means would mean you should expect her brother as well.

Lunch ended, then came a new routine Lyney had to familiarize himself with.

“Where is she going?” Lyney asks in a murmur, eyes chasing your footsteps. The other orphans remain seated while you were the first to scurry off, foregoing the attempt to clean your plate. Were you so important to be able to do that?

“To train,” Freminet says simply, his eyes glued to stacking porcelain plates. He slides the chair back and heads to the kitchen.

Lyney follows after him with glasses in hand. “To train?”

Freminet nods. “We should follow. Is Lynette…?

Lyney glances off to the side, an unbidden smile tugging his lips as he sees Lynette curled up on the couch by the fireplace, eyes shut and body language relaxed. Like a cat hoarding a warm window. “I’ll get her.”

As much as it pains him to interrupt his sister’s sleep, he doesn’t know what ‘Father’ will do were they to miss a routine in the House of the Hearth. He doesn’t want to risk finding out, either.

She grumbles and sends him a biting glare but obliges all the same. They tail after Freminet.

You reemerge back into view, a weapon on your side, your face serious.

The other orphans head to the side and come back with different kinds of weapons. Lyney’s eyes bulged out of their sockets when small Freminet pads over to them with a great sword twice his size. A claymore, Freminet said, unbothered as he practically dragged his weapon around.

“This is crazy,” Lyney whispers to his sister again, who jabs his ribs with her elbow.

Lyney has never touched a weapon in his life. A butter knife here and there to cut bread nice people give him, but that is nothing compared to the long one you’re carrying. Freminet gestures to the corner of the room where it lays a chest cracked open, heaped with rusty weapons.

Unfortunately, Lyney doesn’t see any more of the weapon similar to yours. Lynette eyes the sword with muted interest, so Lyney takes the other weapon available.

He’s familiar with a bow and arrow; he’s seen how people wield them from afar and in plays. That doesn’t make it any easier when he has to hold it in his tiny hands. Lyney feels his muscles strain as he pulls, wincing at the ache that unfurls in his arms. Lynette clumsily swings around with her sword.

He cranes his neck to observe the other kids sparring, stumbling when his gaze wanders, catching you looking at him. There’s a smile on your face, but it’s not a kind one. You chuckle under your breath, then turn away.

Lyney doesn’t know what comes over him. One second, he’s at the corner of the room; the next, he’s forcing himself into your view.

You’re prettier up close. Lyney nearly misses his lines.

“I’m Lyney,” he says, face pinched with a seriousness that hopefully he conveys well to fight the blush threatening to creep up.

“I know,” you say, fixing him with a blank stare. “You saw me when ‘Father’ introduced you.”

“Do you think you can teach me?” Lyney then shows his chosen weapon as if he’s offering it to you.

You appraise him for a silent moment. Lyney shuffles on his feet. “I don’t like bow users.”

The statement hangs in the air awkwardly, with Lyney unsure of what to make of that.

“Lyney,” a soft voice calls after him. He turns and sees Lynette looking at you and her brother. “Hello.” She waves shyly at you.

“Hi.” You don’t quite smile, but Lyney feels it there. He realizes you resemble Father’s attitude quite a bit, just a ghost of it, never visible when genuine. “Lynette, right? How’s the sword?”

Lynette takes a moment to answer as if unsure what to respond to that with. “I like it.” Her gaze flits to Lyney, curious. “What’s wrong?”

Lyney feels caught, for some reason. “I just introduced myself.”

“Should you need it, seek me out if you want me to train you,” you tell Lynette, staring right ahead. Lyney feels as if he’s older than you, yet the way you carry yourself has him feeling young and small, a fawn prancing around a tiger.

You must have seen whatever face Lyney is making. “A bow is further off from a polearm than a sword; it’s nothing personal.” But the sickly sweet smile you flash at him feels very personal. However, instead of feeling miffed by this bold start of war, Lyney feels himself grinning.

“So you’re not good at every weapon?”

You start walking. “Astute observation for someone who isn’t good at any weapon.”

He trails after your steps with ease. “Hey, have we met before?”

“No.”

“You’re not acting like it’s a ‘no’.”

“Will you please let me train in peace?”

“Only if you agree to make me your sparring partner.”

You pause, sizing him up. Lyney attempts to hold a straight posture, but he noticeably deflates when you unleash a mocking laugh. “Surely you’re aware how idiotic of a request that is?”

Lyney then realizes the whole room is pin-drop silent, watching with bated breath for Lyney’s next move. And he is, of course, nothing but a performer.

“The harder the challenge to overcome, the greater the benefits to reap,” Lyney says with full-body confidence. Lynette snorts quietly because he stole it from a children’s book they found in a dump.

“A challenge,” you murmur, head tilted. “Is that why you look at me so strangely? You see me as a challenge?”

Lyney has no idea how he looks at you. “Uhm, yes?”

You seem satisfied with the answer, though. You roll your shoulders back and nod. “Very well.” Jeez, do you always talk like that? “I will be your sparring partner.”

Lyney babbles in confusion when you start walking further away before whipping around and pointing the tip of your polearm in his direction. “Try to land a hit on me. Do your worst.”

Long-distance is a bow user’s advantage. “Are you sure?”

You narrow your eyes fiercely. Lyney blinks and fumbles with the weapon in his hands. It’s begun to feel heavy now that he’s acknowledged its presence. He screws one eye shut and aims right for your head, then watches in awe as your polearm spins in a perfect circle and deflects his arrow.

“Again,” you demand, unbothered.

You are so cool.

Lyney tries again, unsurprised when he fails. But you swipe at your weapon this time, batting off his arrow as if an annoying fly. He tries once more, realizing belatedly that with each flimsy shot, you’ve been moving closer and closer.

His breath catches in his throat when you press the tip of your dull spear inches away from his nose.

“You’ve got guts to face me head-on,” you say, poking his skin, “but you’re new, so I can’t praise you for your naivety.”

He blinks. “I wasn’t—��

“Here, in the House, you prove your worth. Loyalty is your worth. How can you prove your loyalty if you can’t even live up to your words?” He releases a heavy breath when you lower your weapon, standing idle by your side. Goosebumps blossom on his arms. “Overcome me if you see me as a challenge.”

Lyney doesn’t know how to say that he sees you as a person. He’s breathless, in cold sweat—and he might be a little in love.

Lynette has become more adept with her sword under your guidance. Lyney can’t quite get the arrow to where he wants it to go, but his grip has been getting firmer—more sure and confident. He is still too far off from beating you, however.

But that’s not all that they’ve been practicing. Months have passed, and they must master other important skills if they are going to prove their worth.

Whenever they can, he and his sister sneak off to meet up with a talented individual that was kind enough to lend his knowledge to them. He’s caring and doesn’t push when they don’t answer honestly—exactly who they need, considering their identities.

Cesar pats his head, “What’s got you so distracted, bud?”

Lyney blinks up at him, schooling his expression carefully. “I was just thinking about a new trick I want to polish.”

“Hmm.” Cesar studies his face. Lyney feels a little uncomfortable. Can master magicians like him read minds? Will Cesar look into Lyney’s and ask about who it is? “You know, the more you try to cover something, the more it’s likely to show up.”

Lyney flushes down to his neck. “Um.”

“Did you meet someone you like?” Cesar grins, kneeling down to his eye level. “It’s okay. I won’t tell your sister if you want to. Though she probably knows already, that smart lady.”

Lyney shakes his head rapidly, hands waving all over to hide his unguarded expression. “There’s nothing to tell!”

Lyney wasn’t lying: there’s really nothing. He hasn’t made any progress with you. You look at him as if you see a scrap of paper, and Lyney should really back off and move on, but he likes the expressions you give him when he speaks to you either way, scrunching in annoyance or grinning in a way that makes his heart dance with fear and anticipation. It feels more human compared to when you stand across him with the air of a seasoned warrior.

“You’re a good kid,” Cesar says, toppling Lyney’s top hat over when he ruffles his hair. “And you’re going to grow up and become a wonderful magician. You will meet all kinds of people with your talent; don’t be afraid to let them in.”

This is a bit sudden. Nonetheless, Lyney dips his head in a nod.

“Lyney,” Lynette calls out, peering from the dove snug in her palm. “It’s sunset.”

“Right.” ‘Father’ is returning, and Lyney and Lynette are finally privy to a dangerous mission for the first time together. He looks back up at Cesar, who has this distant look in his eye that matches his smile. “Master, thank you for all your guidance. We will never forget all you’ve done for us.”

Lynette rises from where she’s been kneeling, bowing along with her brother. “Thank you.”

Cesar laughs heartily. “Just look for me if you kids ever need anything else apart from magic tricks, alright?”

Lyney and Lynette don’t doubt it, but they don’t need to trouble Cesar with their problems. As Fatui, they must uphold their sworn secrecy, no matter how kind and understanding Cesar would be.

“We should head back,” Lyney says. Her hair has been whipping around her face for far too long, hindering her actions during their missions. Lyney can’t really tuck them behind her…ears, so he reminds himself to buy some hairclips for her. “I don’t want to miss dessert.”

“You should try tying your hair,” Lyney says, sighing when a stray strand flicks her in the eye. “And yes, let’s head back. ‘Father’ will be assigning us to a new mission, right?”

Lynette has a delicate skip in her steps, and Lyney is content with the conclusion of a successful mission. Yet the air feels stifling when they arrive. ‘Father’ is nowhere in sight, and there’s a crowd of orphans huddled by the sofa, a first aid kit littered by the coffee table.

Bewildered, Lyney taps one of their shoulders and asks, “What happened?”

The girl farthest to the scene and closest to the twins sighs. “Y/N snuck out to a mission not meant for her. And, well, you can assume how that went.”

Lyney’s heart sinks to his stomach. “What?”

“See for yourself,” she says, pushing Lyney and Lynette to weave through the cluster of murmuring people.

Then, he notices you—your face contorted in a scowl, your body swathed in bandages. Lyney’s eyes catch it swiftly: the burns of your skin and the wince that flickers in your expression when someone gets a little too close.

“Everyone, please return to the dining hall,” Lyney says before he can even think about it. “Space!”

They don’t move, but they pause to look at Lyney. His jaw ticks. So they can rush to gossip but not direct orders?

“Now!” he barks out, gesturing to the other room. They follow, albeit unsurely, as their stares linger. The whispers subside as they do, birthing an upsetting silence that has Lyney running a hand through his face as you stare at the twins warily.

Lynette nudges Lyney, murmuring, “I’ll look for Freminet. Unless you want me to stay?”

Lyney nods, meeting Lynette’s eye. “Don’t worry.”

Your expression clears when Lynette shuts the door softly behind her. Lyney sits on the armrest and lets his eyes rake over your wounds, studying them. They all look nearly fatal, but they look as if Lyney and Lynette have come too late—no longer fresh, leaving an unpleasant taste on his tongue. What would’ve happened if you were not treated quickly?

You glower at him. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Lyney keeps his face carefully blank. “I just wanted to tell you that I’ll still be requesting sparring sessions after you’ve healed.”

Your stare became incredulous, but anything is better than the wounded look on your face when the orphans fret over you. “Fine.”

He isn’t even certain if you want him close. What hangs on his back is a bright Pyro vision, the same element that has seared your skin. If it were him, he’d be wary of himself.

“Why did you do it?” he asks quietly.

Your reply takes a while as if you debated with yourself whether you can trust Lyney or not. Luckily for him, you come to the right conclusion. “I don’t have a Vision. I don’t have the ‘potential’. They all said—Father said I could be the next director, but I don’t feel worthy.” You look back up at him. “I don’t think you would understand—”

“You wanted to prove yourself,” he finishes.

Your forehead creases, face shattering at the reminder of your mistake. Missions as perilous as these are meant for Vision users for good reasons. Regardless of someone’s skill with a weapon, it becomes an uneven playing field when there are circumstances that affect those without Visions, or even when facing enemies as highly trained as you yet have the advantage of using their elements with their surroundings to their advantage. Most of the time, those without Visions who take on missions meant not for them don’t make it out alive.

Had Lyney not received his Vision on the day he needed it, he and Lynette wouldn’t have survived. But you…

“This is all I have, Lyney,” you murmur lowly. Lyney hasn’t heard you say his name before.

“Still, you shouldn’t have done that,” he says lightly, trailing off when you gaze to the distance. “What happened out there?”

“Cecilia was too young, even with a Vision. I thought that if I teamed up with her, I could protect her and prove that I’m as good as you Vision-holders and… Well, something went wrong. It was my interference, most likely.”

Your gaze flicks back to his face, brows knitted. “It was stupid, I know. This was the first time I did something as foolish as this, under no guidance from ‘Father’.”

Lyney has an inkling; it was suspicious you pulled this off a few days after he and Lynette got their own Visions. There were barely any orphans who didn't have theirs, either. Were you feeling…?

“I still think you’re too far ahead of me,” Lyney says, hoping you’d pick up on what he’s putting down. “I don’t know how to beat you just yet.”

And then you laugh. Lyney jumps back in surprise at the full-blown laughter bubbling out of you. He’s never heard you laugh like this, and he doesn’t know why he can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away. He can’t let anyone take your joy from you now that he’s seen how bright you are with it.

“You can go, Lyney,” you say. “Don’t worry about me. Whatever punishment ‘Father’ decides to give is mine alone. I can see it in your eyes—you were planning something.”

Lyney sags, pouting. “I wasn’t really—”

“We’ll spar in two days.” You smile, and Lyney’s protests die on his tongue. “Once you prove that you can defeat me, I’ll let you help me.”

y/n: i don’t like bow users me, leveling lyney to 90: haha yeah i know right

TAGLIST @thenyxsky @aeferkssr @1mewo1 @lacrimae-lotos @meigalaxy @hyacinth-daze @miwafei @popochakku @svasilios @heyhazelnut101

side note i am SO in love with this song so this chapter is very special to me. also hope u liked it... this was longer than last chapter!! tell me what u think if ure still reading all the way here

[osmanthus-wine-addiction]

04 Grooming

Zhongli x Reader / SFW fluff / Established relationship / The two of you are living together / Grooming (noun): the care of a body and its physical appearance

Every time you watch Zhongli get ready for work, you can't help but admire the effort and care he puts into his appearance. From the layered suit and tie to his polished shoes, he was the very image of a distinguished gentleman. It was impossible to come across your beloved and not be left with an impression. His every detail was intentional, almost to an unbearable degree, so you'd understand how some may see him as pretentious or overly-coiffed. Not everyone could appreciate a well-groomed man of Zhongli's sort. He does quite literally take twice as long as you do to get ready, hence why you have the leisure to admire him.

"You know, when I first met you, I really couldn't stand you." You confessed as you watched him run a comb through his long silken strands.

"Oh, is that so?" He chuckled, gathering his hair in one hand and fastening it with his usual cor lapis hair ornament.

"I thought, how could a man be so perfect? Like every strand of his hair is in the right place. Four layers of clothing, but I can still see that tiny waist. Cufflinks, lapel pin, gem encrusted gloves, rings, earring, all of these accessories, yet none of them look out of place. It's absolutely disgusting."

"I've grown easy on your eyes, I see." He hummed in response.

Zhongli stood in front of the bathroom mirror, shaving away a bit of growth on his chin, following with a thin layer of aftershave. Before he retired his previous vessel and stepped into this mortal body, he had never had to bother with facial hair. Now that he had adjusted to the daily upkeep, he found it rather calming. You came up from behind and wrapped your arms around him, resting your cheek against his back. He applied a bit of cologne to his neck and wrists, the scent tranquil and reserved, just like he was. You inhaled deeply, taking in whiffs of qingxin, silk flowers, and Sandbearer wood.

After soaking him in for a few seconds, you unwrapped your arms to allow Zhongli to finish getting dressed. His suit ensemble was just as complicated as the day you met him. Both you and Zhongli enjoyed taking your time on things, peeling back layers slowly, fastening buttons one at a time, taking long moonlit strolls, and smelling the roses along the way. For you, he was a meticulously wrapped gift and each morning, he spent time and care preparing himself so that he could present his very best to the world. You certainly enjoyed unwrapping that gift as well when night falls. Something about Zhongli being all wrapped up up like a rice dumpling makes him even more enticing to you.

"Here, use mine." You reached up and spread some of the moisturizer you were dabbing onto your own face into Zhongli's cheeks when you saw him repeatedly press the pump nozzle on his bottle to no avail.

Aside from his immaculate attire, the retired archon also prided himself in taking good care of his current human vessel. You often talked about your own skincare, leading to him owning a few staples of his own. His skin was pretty flawless as is, so you didn't feel the need to introduce him to too many kinds of products. His morning routine didn't need to get any longer than it already was!

Once his face was moisturized and protected from the sun, it was time for the last touch. In Liyue, there is a tradition that when painting a dragon, an artist waits until the very end to paint the eyes. That simple stroke brings it to life.

"Can I do it?" You ask eagerly, earning you an appreciative look from your beloved.

"My pleasure, darling."

He handed you the red eyeliner brush, closing his eyes to allow you to apply it for him. You've never asked him why it was a part of his morning routine, but you were sure he would have an interesting story to tell for it, just like his single tassel earring and the pin on his lapel. That was who he was, a man of many stories.

After finishing breakfast, the two of you parted ways at the door, going separate directions for your respective workplaces.

"Wait, you forgot something!" You gave him a playful glare just before he could leave.

"I have?" He always made sure he left the house with everything so his confusion was predictable.

You reached up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, to which he gladly received when he realized you were only joking about him leaving something behind. Of course, if he could he would put you in his pocket and take you with him, but since you had your own work to attend to, he would have to settle for a kiss.

"Take care of yourself, dear. I shall see you tonight." He smiled as he reached out to help you tame a particularly frisky strand of hair on the top of your head.

[sugar-petals]

🌹 KIBBE types || Why Hyunjin is a 𝒮𝑜𝒻𝓉 Dramatic

 ↪︎ INTRO :: Welcome to another lengthy Kibbe Body Type analysis. Today, I’ll discuss Stray Kids’ Hyunjin, who is certainly among the most beautiful men of our times 🌹

Across the web he’s been typed as a [Soft] Dramatic, Dramatic Classic, and Flamboyant Natural respectively — I make my case for SD here in bite-sized illustrated points. Enjoy! 

---- 🅲🅾🅽🆃🅴🅽🆃 ----

I. ANALYSIS 🌹

why he’s in the dramatic type family

hyunjin’s SD features & fashion

comparison to FN/DC/D + other members’ types (Chan, Lino, Han, Felix)

why he fits the versace look

II. CONCLUSION 🌹

hyunjin as an archetype and GNC icon

shifting beauty standards

thoughts on kibbe type distribution in skz/k-pop generally (do successful groups feature types from all 5 kibbe categories?)

----

why he’s in the dramatic family

Needless to say, Hyunjin is likely part of the Big Three (D, SD, FN) or a Dramatic Classic due to his notable vertical line. Like all of these yang types, his model physicality is hard to overlook.

At 5′11, he’s already tall and close to the 6´0 threshold on paper, but he appears even taller mostly. People surely wouldn’t describe him as petite or barely medium in height. I heard through the grapevine that 5′11+ is Kibbe’s cutoff for male yin types who have short vertical lines:

Especially as in South Korea, the male average height is estimated to lie between 5´7 and 5´8½. That would be their Classic type benchmark. Lee Know is commonly typed as Soft Classic at 5′8. I agree with the typing: He looks great in sophisticated, clean, standard black tie with waist emphasis and suave fabrics (yin). All C category looks suit him, less is more.

Hyunjin appears taller and bolder congruently, seemingly taking up twice as much space as most Soft Gamines like Felix (SG is Kibbe’s most petite type next to the Romantics, they are the Big Three’s opposite). His physical frame is easily noticed first.

His extremities are fairly narrow, though. At his height, only one Image ID category looks like that, in fact: D types, the longest legs of the Kibbe system. Slim and streamlined, Hyunjin embodies sharp yang.

And he fits their reputation: Like all Dramatics, he does visually intimidate. His appeal can be described as intense, towering, and in your face (D), not as bluntly rounded, wide, sporty (N) or subtle and detached (C). Changbin being from the Natural family, the difference is quite stark. Changbin is frame dominant, Hyunjin is vertical first.

There’s an edge, he’s square and tall, not bevelled, not all-round symmetrical, not tiny, nor softly round. Hyunjin isn’t fully mesomorph nor endomorph either, but slenderly column-like with longer bones (D), which tends to reflect in his dance/stage presence. Very angular.

SKZ’ concert outfits can be quite theatrical in a Kibbe and aesthetic sense, it suits him well. Kibbe calls the Dramatic element theatric because literal drama/theater in the arts relies on tall actors with exaggerated makeup & features that can still be seen in the last row. D types are easily spotted from a mile away. 

Let’s do the reverse: Zooming in, typing by detail. Tell-tale sign of a D type: Hyunjin’s hands/fingers are long and slim. FN’s hands are broad and less dainty/slim, if not huge sometimes. Classics are “regular”. His extremeties are not, we see bone structure first.

Calves, hips, underarms, too. All very yang. Not short, not soft, not balanced, not sturdy, not contrasted, just elongated and slimmed. I can hear people say it’s FN’s dramatic undercurrent, but it’s not an addition, it’s his main thing.

Test it with outfits: Kibbe is about matching similar things to create harmony, which creates beauty. Hyunjin’s most famous looks are all angular like he is. They mirror his frame. His artistic alter ego is as fittingly dramatic-themed as it gets. Sharp asymmetric corners everywhere:

how his yin undercurrent manifests

Now that we established his Dramatic base, let’s see how his yin undercurrent shows. Outfit test again, because it’s fun: Especially opulent and dark-colored SD lines overwhelm all Classics and Naturals. But Hyunjin, never. Just another Thursday for him, he can do it all. 

And either way, his lush, super-prominent facial features are the waving flag for SD. They pair so well with glisteningly adorned yin styling. The hair could be more contrasted (= yang) here, but you get the gist.

He even has a semblance of double curve, which is elongated in SDs. FN has a broad ribcage > hourglass, Pure D has a straight, streamlined body. DC has no curve. But SD looks great with the waist marked. Only then does the outfit become “Hyunjin-esque” lmao! And it puts the focus on his face.

Hyunjin is far more yin-oriented than D, DC, FN. He wears Romantic and otherwise gnc clothing so well. You could douse him in jewels. SD is the only type among the Big 3 that can pull off TR decor. Modern Hanboks are often yin-themed (SC, TR, SD...). He’s born to wear it.

SD borrows its yin from R, yes. But as I see it, the infamous “homme/femme fatale” Theatrical Romantic type is SD’s younger sister. Simply due to TR’s sharp yang Dramatic influence. Hyunjin is easily a `sexy TR with more vertical´, and tall homme fatale is exactly what he exudes. An SD face says “femme but I’ll eat you up”.

That doesn’t mean that if you made TRs like Jimin or Han more elongated, they’d look like Hyunjin. Ofc not. Besides no person ever fully resembling another, Han is yin first (rounded face, small waist), and Hyunjin is yang first (chiseled body, long limbs). SD is gigantic next to TR.

However: Added to how Korean men tend to be on the smaller side already, and SD still points toward R and is the least towering of the Big Three most of the time, Hyunjin is still less gigantic than Pure D and FN — even if he looks tall by himself or next to G types like I.N, Felix, etc. Next to FN Dua Lipa in heels below, next to D types in the second pic.

For SD, Kibbe says overdressing is virtually impossible, as long as their narrow vertical line is honored. Unlike Classics, Hyunjin is certainly the “more is more” type. Minimalism wouldn’t do him justice. All-out dark luxury and ornamentation is peak SD aesthetic.

As above, and like in Han’s or Taemin’s case (both are TR), all of his outfits are elevated by belts. A purely yang type couldn’t wear this convincingly or comfortably. But with his small waist, belts are needed to keep the outfit together. Again, he can’t overdo it.

Finally, his feet are long and yang, but the toes appear yin and rounded, softly padded. The gentle, fleshy undercurrent of SD shows here, just like in his face. I’m a Pure Dramatic, my toes are thin and elongated, and my face is taut. SD has less structured feet, even if they can be bony. That’s why Natural category boots look so heavy on him, DC shoes appear regular, but elongated boots that emphasise vertical suit his outfits. He rarely wears SD shoes, but as always, the more glam, the better.

why he fits the versace SD aesthetic

It’s no coincidence he became a Versace ambassador. Donatella — despite being a tiny Flamboyant Gamine at 5´2 — herself dresses like a Soft Dramatic often, and loves supermodels embodying the shiny Diva Chic, it’s the brand’s entire theme. 

Just like D & G and Mugler celebrate TR, Chanel and Gucci revere Gamines, Armani worships yang types (D, DC), and Dior suits Soft Classic, Versace lionizes SD, Italy’s Kibbe archetype. Bold patterns, sharp shoulders, black, waist, long lines. 

Versace and Hyunjin’s best signature style are based on the severe long, black vertical look, angular and stark. Head to toe! The velvet fabric ad glossy boots are also quite SD.

By constrast, Versace doesn’t base itself on the flowing mix´n´match, wide lines and cozy fabrics of Naturals. That would be, say, Urban Outfitters or FILA. The BTS campaigns show of how casual FN/N is. No coincidence how RM and JK are positioned center, they are SN and FN. Brands will always clock which types instinctively fit the aesthetic.

Like all designers searching for a muse, I think Donatella looks for models that symbolize what her own contrasted/angular FG type doesn’t feature: Extreme vertical, a consistent essence (as opposed to Gamine’s mix of D and R lines), and yin. Thus, Versace’s muse is SD. Hyunjin perfectly fits the role. He is tall and radiates decadent splendour. 

why he’s not flamboyant natural

Some FN clothing suits him, yes, as SD and FN are neighboring types. You can always steal from your closest Image IDs and pull it off to a certain degree. It accommodates his vertical, after all. But again, he can go even more fashion forward, and isn’t known for his leisure looks like, say Namjoon (FN) or Jungkook (SN). FN clothing looks casual on all other types. FN clothing on an FN looks like a million bucks. 

Some FNs have soft yin features, but on SD, they stand out. Hyunjin’s go-to makeup look is not understated like Kibbe would recommend for the N family. Full lips, strong brows, sharp chin, sharp smokey eyes, contoured nose. His face shape is slightly more elongated than wide to begin with, the eyes aren’t wide-set like it’s often the case for Ns. His signature style is long hair, wether straight or wavy: but pulled back (D), not big and wild and free (FN).

The FN (and DC) outfits he wears the best are all black, head to toe. Which is a D characteristic! The drape of the fabric is similar to SD, but the materials are still reading as casual and wide on him. FN clothes look huge on all other Kibbe categories and hide the body, but on all Naturals they look stylish and showcase their frame dominance. FN is oversized on Hyunjin, especially the upper body. SD might have a T-silhouette, but not the FN ribcage. Casual clothes are snug on actual FNs.

Vice versa, Hyunjin makes the most artificial-looking, least casual aesthetic seem entirely taken for granted on him. His silhouette asks for emphasis in the middle of the body than just the shoulders (yes, SD does need shoulder emphasis!). The FN style leaves his legs looking too slim by comparison, as the top part winds up being too baggy. 

That couldn’t happen to a Natural like Chan who fills out skinny pants easily. He needs the heavy fabrics, chest, arm, and shoulder accommodation like air.  Stage looks are heavily manicured; he becomes a different person — Chan looks good, but he’s most at home in cozier looks, and most known for it, too. It balances his body.

Test jeans (N) versus satin (R): Which is more well-dressed? SD is about how far you can go, N is about how relaxed you can go. I think jeans is good, but underwhelms here and there. Plain satin lacks structure on him, too, which is why R is only his undercurrent. It requires the angular tailoring of D to incorporate yin fabrics in his wardrobe. But you could still throw more jewelry on him! Gala/dinner/red carpet dressing is so easy for SD. The right-hand outfits are fantastic. The colors pack a punch, too. SD needs heavy duty [winter] hues, regardless of their personal color.

So, in stage outfits, he wears sharp shoulders well. FN has larger, protruding, rounded shoulters that do not carry pointed Dramatic corners well. No sharpness here, just massive soft yang muscles, eg. Namjoon and Shownu. Worlds apart from Hyunjin. SD is the fiercest slayer ever, FN is a complete machine.

Any impression that he has Kibbe width is caused by the T-Shape most SDs have, an illusion created by their small waist making the shoulders look prominent by comparison. 

Stiff fabrics that hold their shape (=D) are key to his best outfits, not coarse/woven FN fabrics or DC tweeds. fN are the kings and queens of athleisure. SD is underdressed in FN. It needs lavish draping and bnw contrast (=D element mixed with yin). He looks great in it:

SD is a naturally androgynous type. It fuses a tall model body with a soft yin face. Think Austin Butler, Shawn Mendes, Lil Nas X, BTS’ Jin. But FN is as masc as it gets. Think Henry Cavill, Jason Momoa, Hugh Jackman, RM, Minho (SHINee), Chanyeol. FN can be humongously broad when trained! SD bulks up, but their narrow, delicate vertical still shows first. And Hyunjin is shredded to the gods, mind you. 

His legs showcase thin D bone structure. Congruently, he wears pointed toe shoes better than rough and ready FN ones (sharp, black shiny boots, his signature). Even if they have a sharp yang undercurrent, FNs still have more substantial N bones by comparison. When FN works out, their frame becomes even more biased towards the upper arms, shoulders and thighs, where SD becomes leaner first, and just more defined overall. Hyunjin’s legs aren’t blunt, they are extra long (sharp yang) with softly wide flesh (yin undercurrent) on top. FN is bulkier, stronger-looking like RM. And Hyunjin is a main dancer!

In short, trained FN idols are basically closest to bodybuilding contest winners because they look so broad and vigorous, while SD idols could win a pageant because they’re so beautiful, not rugged and hypermasculine like FN. Hyunjin is muscular, but you don’t notice broadness first, but his gorgeousness and model height.

FN benefits from earth tones + softening the hair color, while all Dramatics are recommended to go darker, more uniform in shade. Contrast works miracles for Hyunjin, black hair or completely bleached white is his forte. Muted colors undersell him. FNs will pass as a natural muted blonde or light brunette, while the D black and white color scheme don’t flatter them as much. Hyunjin definitely needs the extreme.

why he’s not pure dramatic

Pure Dramatic fits his proportions, it looks great on him (proof that D is his family) but the certain something is missing. It conceals his body rather than adapting to his shape. SD is never boring, always memorable (!), the longer you look the better it gets (minus the whitewashing on the right). SD is the right “challenge”.

The fact that Hyunjin can handle so much glamour whereas Pure Dramatic best sticks to the all-black column look without the glitter and diamonds makes him secondary yin. SD can lean into (Theatrical) Romantic, but on a tall scale. The jewels, the glitter, the soft fabrics, you can put all of this on him. The big florals, too!

Pure D is enjoyable in how contrasted and proportional it us, but it seems more boring than his stylists playing it up and adding more of a genderless element without making it classical drag art; it’s his specialty. His roster of SD hairstyles is endless and we all love it. The wavy ponytail below shoulder length (SD can go even longer anyway). 

Pure D lines also don’t lend enough definition to his face. Wearing one’s Kibbe type HTT (head to toe) naturally makes the face pop, as its surroundings are harmonious. He will be too gaunt in too-straight hair and too-stiff fabrics, the SD volume is missing. E.g. Sehun and Wonwoo (Pure Dramatics) wear this better.

why he’s not dramatic classic

His insane proportions and remarkable face also disqualify him as any Classic. C styling looks good on everyone as it is the midpoint of the Kibbe spectrum and thus accommodates all types. He can pull the plain white dress shirt off, but only with sufficient accessorizing (SD). C drowns in SD, but C jackets are like crop tops on SD (red carpet image below).

In general, his body is not balanced — small waist, very narrow legs, prominent facial features, etc — enough to be described as average. Nothing strikes you about Classics, they are subtle and perfect. It’d be harder to draw Lee Know from memory than Hyunjin. All Dramatics stand out. Classics blend in, staying understated, visually embodying the “handsome, cold yet elegant gentleman”.

how he compares to any other types

Kibbe is about comparing Image Identity: Hyunjin could never be the sporty guy next door like SN Chan; he could never be the SG brand of “short and sweet” (think Sabrina Carpenter, SG) like Felix. Hyunjin has the tall contrasted look of sharp yang types. SD is the dark and sensual god king, SG is the lovely elven prince (yet both have yin lips).

Hyunjin’s ability to ace high-effort styles is only restricted by his lack of Gamine essence, which is K-Pop’s main mode. G types have few rules except breaking the line, SD requires rule-abiding. The floor length, the belts, the longer hair, the intense colors. 

G lines turn to kitsch on SD, it is too “youthful“ for him to maximize the potential of SD. Eclectic Gamine lines are too short. G looks ‘cutesy/fun’ on all other types except on Gamines, who look stylish and cool in them, like FG J-Hope. Everything is ugly unless Hyunjin wears it as they say, but G is too hit and miss (and not “Hyunjin-esque” 😄).

Finally, Romantic is too delicate for him. It needs more oomph and “overstyling”. R is not risky enough for Hyunjin! Yes, he is secondary yin. He looks dainty in it. But it works better with yin guys like Felix, Jimin, Woozi, Wooyoung, Suho, Xiumin, you name it. R clothing looks corny on all other types, but on TR/R/SG it looks flaming hot. Pair Romantic’s velvets and pastels and crystals and transparent fabrics and sparkles and ruffles with Dramatic edges and it works for Hyunjin:

conclusion

Since Kibbe has these type-specific names that set a certain tone or theme: I think luxurious “Divo/Deus Chic” (SD) fits Hyunjin best. As in `godly´ man, since Deus was the male operatic lead, historically, and Diva the goddess. Kibbe has no men’s equivalent of “Diva Chic” so I figured `Deus´ was quite fitting, as Hyunjin does look like one would imagine a seductive deity. 

I see why many type him as Pure D and FN, and he can’t go wrong with DC either if the vertical line is kept, either. He can embody those three essences through acting, styling, working out. But the above-and-beyond ornate SD image sums him up well and dresses him to his fullest. 

He’s close but not quite the masculinely austere Pure D, Kibbe’s “Regal Sir” (D), who tends to be the most mature-looking, dry/stern type, far from Hyunjin’s genderbending visual that effortlessly breaks every boundary of what is considered menswear. He stands out from the common “Spitfire” Gamine idol aesthetic, too (small, lean, youthful, `doll-like´ face — think Taeyong, Jennie, or Yoongi), which makes him so recognizable.

He’s modelesque, moreso than the leisurely, Herculean yet relaxed boho “Free Spirit” (FN), or the understated yet sophisticated “First Gentleman” (DC) who stands at a more medium height and excels in spartan clothing. Most SD men are chronically underdressed, Hyunjin became famous because he barely ever is (props to the stylists!). I love this ID on him, and it has many options, just a feast for the eye. 

I thought about Taemin successfully carving out a niche for himself as a sensual Theatrical Romantic, heavily breaking with mainstream masculinity. Or Lisa (her type is debated, but we can all agree she’s yang-leaning) being known for her tomboy look pre-fame and later blowing up astronomically for her concepts that have no time for the submissive Asian girl trope. They both defied the expected norm, aka FN or FG male idol, SG female idol. In a similar manner, SKZ having so many yin subtypes is probably what made them so appreciated for their lavish GNC styles — and the big stage/a music video is really where you can wear all of this to the max. 

If you think about it, they have yin types in all of the 5 main Kibbe categories! TR Han, SG Felix, SC Lino, SN Chan + Changbin, SD Hyunjin, like how? Perfectly distributed, talk about range! No wonder they can do any concept. Hyunjin and Felix being the most known for genderless fashion is likely due to SD being physically impossible to miss and SG standing out as they are so petite (think Woozi from Seventeen, best example). Kibbe is onto something when he made sharp yang and soft yin the end points of the spectrum.

For the stylists, it must be hard to find a balance between dressing the Naturals VS the several Romantic-leaning members, and everyone in between. They do a tremendous job though most of the time imo, it’s refreshing to see SKZ’s fashion style having courage and forward-thinking instead of catering to a conservative worldview: Not to mention the many contemporary, low quality menswear design landscapes which are nothing short of underwhelming. SKZ create a visual spectacle, that’s one of the many reasons why they stay relevant to the public. I don’t think a group mostly consisting of say Classics could execute their theatrical stage displays convincingly. Example: Wolfgang worked because Chan is Soft Natural. Felix’ runway debut worked because the outfit was Soft Gamine. Hyunjin became a sex symbol as soon as he grew his hair long (a Dramatic characteristic, yin `feminine´ hairstyles are actually short in Kibbe’s system! Think TR Hwasa’s iconic wavy bob).

So, maybe one crucial ingredient, besides other factors, to a successful group is having members from all Kibbe 5 main IDs? To give each a recognizable/particular wardrobe, showcase height differences, be able to stay flexible with concepts, and further emphasize the concept of group roles? If we’re talking male groups in general, EXO has all Kibbegories except a strong R department, but therefore more yin subtypes. The literal exact same goes for ATEEZ and TXT. BTS has at least one Romantic (Jimin), Gamine (Yoongi), Classic (V), Natural (Jungkook), and D type (Jin) featured. That effect is even more pronounced in Seventeen (they almost have all the 13 types, it’s insane) and of course, within NCT we find it all, I mean the numerical chances of them having each Kibbe type present are high anyway lmao!

And of course, SHINee is THE most balanced group: Minho FN, Key SD, Onew SN, Jonghyun DC, Taemin TR! Yes — I am aware Key and Jonghyun are typed as Flamboyant Gamines frequently. Those aren’t bad typings at all, especially since SHINee often did and successfully does a FG concept. But as I see it, Key wears and exudes the Divo aesthetic like no other, and Jonghyun is easily associated with crisp and elegant suits. So even if they aren’t SD and DC, FGs can be type chameleons, as we saw with G-Dragon who’s portrayed every Kibbegory in the book. Long story short and pun intended, let’s crack the code: SHINee being Kibbe allrounders could also be a reason why they are timeless.

The veracity behind racist stereotyping à la „they all look the same“ unsurprisingly proves to be nonexistent, even despite the industry’s persisting Gamine bias for both girl and boy groups. Which, worryingly, shifts toward promoting the too-muscular Natural body for male idols lately. We can anticipate more N types being cast into debut groups to reinforce that ideal. It does seem to create a new „be this type or go home“ beauty standard that is often divorced from the variety fans want to see. Say, nobody campaigns to have Felix look like Terminator Arnold 2.0 😅 He’s grown so perfectly into his Soft Gamine/Light Spring Season style and looks stunning. No need for a gargantuan bicep or pecs out of proportion, or 15 layers of insoles.

So, I wouldn’t want to pump up everyone into a quasi-Flamboyant Natural (the current Hollywood steroid disaster is telling) or slim everyone down to a faux Dramatic or FG (see Ozempic) when we have nothing short of 13 human archetypes, with 12 different seasonal color types on top anyway. You cannot change your ID to begin with, ever — you’d need surgery for each cell of your body. Even today’s possible amount of cosmetic procedures couldn’t change your yin-yang balance completely. You still look best in your original lines. Plus, height and bone shape are hard and painful to alter from head to toe. I prefer Kibbe’s prennial `dressing your own, already beautiful type´ approach, which still applies if someone had lots of surgery, too. Kibbe types are permanent after one’s early 20s.

That’s why I still think the „5-category-SHINee-effect“ does contribute to longevity and artistic merit. Exactly to last through extreme trends (because what’s after N muscles? Maybe skinny like D again, or balanced like C? It cycles on). Styling a group, it’ll never be a hit or miss game if you have all 5 archetypes present. Imagine SKZ doing an edgy/smokey eye concept, the yang members (e.g. Seungmin) will make waves. Or if they do lace and pearls, the yin types will look especially great.

No matter what theme a comeback has, it’ll strike a chord for at least one person. Everyone can have their turn, there’s no forgotten member. [Male] groups consisting of kindred Kibbe types (e.g. only Romantics, which would 100% set them apart) sadly rarely break through. They’d have to stick to one signature style, which probably wouldn’t survive in the capital-driven/high-speed K-Pop trend and fashion cycle, which asks for novelty. I’d love to see groups like that though, like an all Dramatic model squad. There’s still variety within one Kibbe ID’s styling options. Maybe I’ve overlooked some groups whose members all have similar types? Take to the comments and let me know, I’m curious!

PS. Thank you for reading all the way — and have a great week - Caro 🐯

[astra-ravana]

The Basic Principles Of Spellcasting

Law of Similarity

These first two principles are from James Frazer's The Golden Bough and are fundamental to all of magick. Frazer describes this law as "like produces like" . This law says that manipulation of an image or likeness yields manipulation of the thing itself. Here's some examples of the Law of Similarity:

• Stabbing a human-shaped figure with nails or pins to cause pain to the person

• Drawing the practitioner holding their love interest by a leash in a "love leash" spell

• Writing a spell in a circle around someone's name to encircle or restrain them

• Putting a love spell that aims to make the target "burn with love" into a candle flame or oil lamp

• Walking upon a written spell to have the target "underfoot" and under your control

Similarity isn't restricted by literal similarity, it extends to metaphorical similarity as well. Idioms and puns were widely used in Egyptian myth and magick.

Law of Contagion

Frazer puts this one quite well: things which have once been in contact with eachother continue to act on eachother. One can extend this law to say that magickal energy can be transferred or shared between objects by contact and that transferal is strongest if they are in contact or extremely close. Examples include:

• Using the hair of a target in a spell or curse

• Writing a spell to a deity on the hide of a corresponding animal

• Burying a separation spell at the home of a couple to affect them

Hair is super useful (and sometimes required) for any spell targeted at someone. Some even keep or trade hair as collateral.

Note:If you need to perform substitutions in a spell, use the Law of Similarity and Law of Contagion for selecting the substitution, (ie: use red wine mixed with an animal's hair instead of blood from that animal).

Law of Durability

This law is basically covered by the Law of Similarity, but, because it's so important for picking components, it is being included separately. Magick done with more durable components will yield a longer lasting effect. For example, a spoken spell will be weaker than a spell written on parchment. The written spell will be weaker than a spell carved into wood or stone. This applies to enchanting as well; more durable items will stay enchanted longer.

Law of Layering

The Law of Layering must be applied carefully as it is about complementary layers, not throwing a bunch of stuff at a wall. The principle is the more layers that are used in magick, the stronger the magick will be. More layers build more power. Some ways to add layers are:

• Having a pre-spell ritual like bathing and meditating

• Cast spells in a designated space for casting with items designated for magick

• Make motions that mirror the words you're saying

• Add components to your spell via the Law of Similarity, the Law of Contagion, or objects along your correspondence.

• Perform the spell with a group as opposed to solo

• Reinforce a spell by doing it for multiple days, weeks, months, etc. (as in 'once per')

Law of Likeliness

One could compare magick to stacking a deck; you're manipulating chance to get circumstances to fall in your favor. This means two things. The first is magick cannot make the impossible happen. Magick is unlikely to cause things to levitate, or conjure fire from nowhere, or anything that isn't possible in our plane of existence. The second is, if an outcome is less likely, stronger magick is required to achieve it. Some decks are just easier to stack.

Law of Agency

No magick, short of possession, can fully rob a human of their free will. For example, if you cast a love spell on a target who's sexuality doesn't align with yours, it will have little to no effect. If a person is resistant to a certain energy in their day-to-day life, they will similarly be resistant to that same energy when sent via magick.

[tanjiroslittlesib]

omg bigbrother!giyu would be so hot— just imagine him jerking off to the thought of his lil sis or something, knowing it was wrong but he couldn’t help himself :(

oml im sorry for ranting sm 😭 i js read ur tanjiro fic n loved it, so then when i saw u were taking reqs i couldn’t help myself 🤭

omg thank u so much!! i’m so glad people liked it!! ofc i’m sorry this took a hot minute to write. not the happiest with it but i hope you enjoy 🙏

big brother!giyuu being a perv for his lil sibling

tw incest, masturbation, giyuu’s a virgin, reader is gender neutral but afab

It started as an accident, genuinely, he didn’t mean to peak in on you when you were changing. He caught your naked form from the barely cracked open sliver in the door when he was going to gather you for dinner. What wasn’t an accident was how long he stared, cheeks turning a bright red as he took in your bare form. He watched the way you twisted in front of the mirror, inspecting some of the scars littered on your skin from different battles. He has to stop himself from gasping when you palmed at your chest. Like a virgin who’s never seen a pair of tits before. (He hadn’t.) Despite being a Hashira, he found himself frozen in place when you had redressed yourself and began to make for the door. Giyuu only got about a foot or so away from your door when you swung it open and looked at him puzzled. Luckily, for him, you hadn’t noticed him quite literally perving on you.

“Dinner’s ready,” Giyuu mumbled, refusing to make eye contact as he hurried back to the dining room.

The next time he ogled you was less of an accident. You had both stopped at a hot spring after a long mission. He agreed to let you go first, being the loving big brother he was. You had assured him that it was fine, you could both bathe at the same time, but he refused. Weird. But you didn’t look too much into it, agreeing with him and heading to bathe by yourself.

Giyuu sat for far too long thinking about you naked by yourself. That same blush from before dusted his cheeks as well as brought a tent to his pants. The guilt that followed was overwhelming, what kind of brother was he? Getting hard for his little sibling like that. He tried to shake it off and wait for you, as a good brother should, but instead, his feet moved without thinking. He got up and started to head back to where you were in the spring. His heart raced even faster when he spotted you, relaxing in the spring with your eyes shut. Giyuu hid himself behind a tree regardless, peeking over at you. His thoughts raced in his head of what he’d seen before and how he wished he had pushed that door open farther and just took you on your bed. The image in his mind made his dick throb, and he reached down to palm himself through his uniform. A slight groan came out of him involuntarily and he froze in panic that you had heard.

Luckily for him, you didn’t. But you did move slightly so that the water was below your chest now. Relaxing in the spring as the water warmed your body and soothed your sore muscles. He released a shaky breath, wishing at that moment that he could fuck your tits. Giyuu undid his belt quietly, and slowly so you wouldn’t hear. Fishing out his hard and aching cock, and gathering the sticky mess at the head so he could stroke himself. He felt absolutely disgusting, touching himself like that to you. While you were unaware and innocently bathing yourself. But he ached so bad, his cock weeping to be inside you, any of your holes. Or between those beautiful tits. One hand gripped the tree to stabilize himself while the other one sped up, his movements getting sloppier.

When he watched you get up out of the water, your body completely on display, he bit his lip to hold back a groan while he carelessly stroked himself faster. It was when he noticed, in his lust-drunken haze, that his little sibling was staring right at him.

His knees almost buckled as he came, spilling all over his hand and dripping to the ground lewdly.

As soon as he comes to his senses, he meets your eyes again, shame beginning to weigh over all his other emotions. You stare at him in shock, your eyes practically bulging out of your head.

“Giyuu…?”