#you ever just draw the body before adding clothes?

[southparkhcsocs]

Oh no what happened idk I suddenly can't see idk

Goodnight

[mephisto-reporting]

More to Love: With Sylus

Summary: Sylus wants to spoil you rotten and takes you shopping. But things don't go as planned in the fitting room as your insecurities take over. pairing: Chubby! reader x Sylus Note: Sylus and reader are in an implied relationship. This is based on this request. Content warning: insecurities, self depriciation, body image issues, slightly suggestive towards the end, angst (hurt-comfort).

The boutique’s soft lighting bathed the room in warm, golden hues, casting a glow on the endless racks of designer clothes that stretched before you. Sylus had dragged you out here, his hand firm on your lower back as he guided you into the posh little shop without a word of protest allowed.

“Indulge me, kitten,” he’d said with that signature smirk of his, his silver hair catching the sunset through the boutique’s large windows. “Pick something you like. No limits.”

As if limits had ever existed when Sylus was involved. He was a man of excess, of extravagance, and he was determined to spoil you rotten—even if you argued you didn’t need it. But you relented, knowing there was no saying no to him when he had his mind set. As you browsed through the aisles, your fingers brushed over silken fabrics and embroidered hems, eyes catching on the occasional outfit you usually would pick for yourself, only not in a store like this. Maybe he just liked to see you in pretty things. Maybe he liked watching you fumble over making decisions. But no matter the reason, you couldn’t help but feel a slight warmth bloom in your chest as you picked up a few pieces that caught your eye. His attention was there, but only just.

And then you saw it.

A little black dress, understated yet elegant, with faint red accents that shimmered subtly in the light. It screamed Sylus in every way: sharp, refined, and impossible to ignore. Your chest tightened with a flicker of excitement as you imagined yourself in it, standing next to him in his usual immaculate attire. He’d look at you the way he always did, with that blend of teasing confidence and a softness he reserved only for you. You could picture how well you'd complement each other, the two of you so flawless together that you felt almost… untouchable.

Grabbing it from the rack, you added it to the pile of clothes you’d picked for yourself and headed to the dressing rooms. The velvet curtain whispered shut behind you, enclosing you in a quiet little space with a single mirror framed in warm lights. The changing room felt cold and sterile as you slipped into the dress, carefully pulling it over your body. It should have fit perfectly—after all, you’d picked it out. It was your choice. But as you zipped it up, a knot tightened in your stomach.

The fabric clung to your body in ways it shouldn't have, and not in a flattering manner. It sat all wrong on your bosom, the seams straining against the curves of your chest, barely able to close. You tugged at the zipper, trying to pull it up the side, but it caught painfully against your side, tugging uncomfortably at the soft roll near your bra strap.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, your reflection unfamiliar. The dress, which had seemed so perfect on the rack, now felt like a cruel joke. The skirt, meant to be a silhouette, flared out over your thighs in a way that felt mocking. It hung awkwardly around your thighs in a way that made your legs look thicker, not more elegant. Your belly, which you’d always been conscious of, seemed to bulge in ways that felt out of place, unnatural against the black silk. The faint shimmer of the red accents only seemed to draw attention to the areas you least wanted highlighted.

What is wrong with me?

The voice inside your head was loud now, relentless.

I don’t belong in this dress.

Your fingers clenched the fabric at your sides as a wave of self-consciousness washed over you. The dress wasn’t the problem—it was you.

The mirror seemed to mock you, reflecting back every feature you’d learned to hate over the years. Your belly, round and soft, pushed against the fabric. Your thighs looked larger than ever, the material refusing to lie smooth. Your arms, left bare by the sleeveless design, felt exposed and unwelcome in the polished setting of this boutique.

As you stared, echoes of the past began to surface, unbidden and cruel. Your face twisted into a frown as you turned from side to side. The more you looked at yourself, the more you hated it. The reflection staring back at you seemed foreign, as though it was someone else’s body you’d somehow ended up in.

"You’ve got such a pretty face; you’d be stunning if you lost a little weight,” your mother’s voice chimed in your head, the way it had so many times over the years. Well-meaning, she’d always called it. But the words had planted themselves deep in your heart.

"Are you sure you want seconds?” a friend’s teasing voice from a high school cafeteria, laughing as though it was just a joke. It hadn’t been funny then, and it wasn’t funny now.

"I’m just saying, you’d feel so much better if you exercised more," someone had told you once, their tone dripping with condescension disguised as care.

Your friends in high school, laughing when you couldn’t fit into the trendy outfits they wore, saying, “Oh, don’t worry, you’ve got such a cute face!”

The offhand comment from a coworker last year: “Have you tried keto? I heard it’s great for people like you.”

Your father, well-meaning but always critical, pinching your belly and saying, “You’d be so much prettier if you lost all this fat.”

The memories compounded until your chest tightened with a mix of anger and shame.

God, I look disgusting in this.

And now, in this too-small dressing room with this too-tight dress, those voices joined your own as you whispered to yourself.

"I look ridiculous. Why did I even think I could pull this off? Sylus wouldn’t want to be seen with someone like this. Someone like me."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you forced them back. Crying here would be too much, too embarrassing. You turned away from the mirror, pulling at the dress, wanting nothing more than to get it off. Your breathing hitched as the panic rose, your nails biting into your palms to keep yourself steady. But the tears were already threatening to fall.

The curtain separating you from the world felt as thin as paper and just as fragile. The muffled murmur of boutique shoppers and the faint hum of music didn’t penetrate the storm of thoughts swirling in your head. The dress felt tighter by the second, suffocating, and your own reflection stared back with an almost accusatory glare.

Why did you even think you could look good in this? You were out of place, weren’t you? Not just in the dress, but here—here in this boutique, in Sylus’s world, in his life. The idea of walking out of the changing room, of standing in front of him and seeing that ever-present smirk falter for even a second, was unbearable.

Your fingers fumbled at the zipper, trying to undo it, but your hands were shaking too much to find the tab. The fabric bunched awkwardly around your side, pinching and pulling in a way that only made you hate it more. Hate yourself more. A sharp inhale turned into a shaky exhale as your vision blurred with unshed tears.

He’s going to see right through you. He’ll realize you’re not the kind of person who belongs at his side.

The voices in your head grew louder, and you didn’t even hear his approach until his voice broke through the storm, smooth and teasing, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Kitten,” Sylus drawled, his tone dripping with amusement, “don’t tell me you’ve gotten lost in there. Or are you planning to make me wait all day?”

Your breath caught. “I’m fine. I just… need another minute,” you called out, trying to keep your voice steady, but it cracked ever so slightly. You winced, praying he hadn’t noticed.

But he had. Of course, he had.

“Hmm,” came his thoughtful hum, followed by the sound of his boots against the boutique’s plush carpet. Closer. Too close. “You don’t sound fine, sweetie. Should I come in and—”

“No!” The word came out sharper than you intended, panic rising in your chest. “Just—stay out there. I’ll be out in a second.”

There was a pause. Long enough for you to realize he wasn’t moving away. His teasing edge was gone when he spoke again, quieter this time. “Sweetie. What’s wrong?”

“I said I’m fine!” you snapped, your voice a pitch higher than you intended. You winced at your own tone. The last thing you wanted was for him to push further.

But Sylus was nothing if not persistent. “Sweetie, you’re never fine when you say you are,” he said, the teasing edge returning, but softer now, as though he was testing the waters. “I’m coming in.”

“No, don’t—” Your protest was cut short as the velvet curtain slid to the side.

The curtain shifted slightly, and you turned away from it, clutching the fabric of the dress like a shield.  Sylus stepped into the small dressing room, his broad frame somehow making the space feel even smaller. His usual air of control and confidence filled the room, his sharp crimson eyes immediately locking onto yours. But his smirk faltered as he took you in—your tear-streaked face, your trembling hands, and the ill-fitting dress that clung awkwardly to your frame.

“Sweetie…” His voice was low, laced with genuine concern as he stepped closer. “What’s going on?”

You turned away, hugging yourself tightly. “Nothing. Just go, Sylus. Please.”

He didn’t move. Instead, he reached out, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. “Look at me,” he said, his tone soft but commanding.

“I don’t want you to see me like this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“And why not?” he asked, his brows furrowing. “You’re my kitten, aren’t you?"

You turned away, hugging yourself tightly. “Nothing. Just go, Sylus. Please..I don’t want you to see me like this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Like what?” he asked, stepping closer, his hands reaching out but not quite touching you yet. “What are you talking about?”

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. “Like you’re trying to fix something that’s broken. I’m not—I’m not—” The words caught in your throat, but they spilled out anyway, raw and jagged. “I’m not good enough for this. For you. For any of it.”

His frustration was evident in the way his jaw tightened, but when he spoke, his tone was calm. “Where is this coming from?”

You gestured helplessly at your reflection. “Look at me! This dress—it doesn’t fit. It doesn’t look right. I don’t look right, Sylus. I thought I could—” Your voice broke. “I thought I could make myself… better. For you. But I just… don’t fit.”

The air grew heavy with your words, and for a moment, Sylus didn’t respond. Then, slowly, he stepped forward, his hands firm but gentle as they gripped your wrists, lowering them from where they clutched the dress. His touch was grounding, solid.

“Stop,” he said, his voice soft but commanding. “Stop tearing yourself apart like this.”

You blinked up at him, tears slipping free despite your efforts. “But it’s true. I don’t fit in your world. I don’t even fit in this stupid dress.”

His hand slid down your arm, his fingers curling around yours to still their trembling. “Stop,” he repeated, his voice firm but not unkind.

“No, I need to say it,” you continued, the dam breaking as tears spilled down your cheeks. “You’re this—this untouchable, powerful, perfect man, and I’m just—” You gestured helplessly at yourself, the words catching in your throat. “I’m not good enough for you, Sylus. I’ll never be good enough.”

He was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening as he studied you. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something far more serious. “That’s enough of that.”

You blinked at him, startled by the sudden shift in his tone.

“You think I care about any of that?” he said, his eyes boring into yours “Sweetie,” he murmured, his tone laced with exasperation and something deeper—something tender. “You don’t need to fit into anything to be enough for me.”

His fingers brushed your cheek, wiping away a tear. “You think I give a damn about some dress? About whatever bullshit standard you think you’re failing to meet?” His crimson eyes burned with intensity as he spoke, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. “You don’t need to impress me. You already have me wrapped around your finger.”

Your breath hitched, his words sinking in even as you tried to resist them. “But I—”

“No,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “No more of that. Do you know what I see when I look at you?” His hands slid to your shoulders, his grip firm but warm. “I see the person who challenges me, who stands toe-to-toe with me even when she’s scared. The person who’s made my cold, miserable world worth living in.” His lips quirked into a faint smile. “And, if you must know, I happen to think you’re absolutely stunning. Always.”

“But I—” you began, but he cut you off with a shake of his head.

“No buts,” he said firmly. “You don’t need to dress up to impress me. I’m already smitten, in every way possible.”

His words hung in the air, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Slowly, the tightness in your chest began to ease, the storm in your mind quieting as his presence anchored you. He reached for the zipper, his movements careful and deliberate as he began to undo the dress.

“Let’s get you out of this,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “We’ll find something that makes you feel like the goddess you are. And if we don’t, then to hell with the clothes.” Sylus’s hands lingered at the zipper, his eyes meeting yours with a teasing glint as the faintest smirk tugged at his lips. “Though, between you and me, kitten…” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, “I think you’d look better without anything on at all.” His fingers brushed deliberately against your skin as he slid the zipper down further, his touch light but intentional, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

Your cheeks burned, the heat rushing to your face at his boldness. “Sylus…” you began, but the words caught in your throat, swallowed by the intensity of his gaze.

He leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he spoke again, his tone a mixture of playful and reverent. “But let me make one thing very clear, sweetie. Clothes or no clothes, none of that matters to me. You’re already perfect to me—just as you are. Nothing you wear or don’t wear is going to change that.”

His hands rested firmly on your hips now, steadying you as the trembling in your legs began to subside. “And by the time I’m done worshiping you, adoring you, loving you over and over again,” he continued, his voice husky, filled with an almost dangerous promise, “you’ll see yourself the way I see you. The way I’ve always seen you. Stunning, irresistible, absolutely mine.”

You shivered, not from the chill of the room, but from the weight of his words and the warmth in his touch. He tilted your chin up with one finger, forcing your eyes to meet his. “You’ll see it, sweetie. I’ll make sure of it. Because in my eyes, you’re more than enough—you’re everything.”

The air between you was thick with unspoken emotion, the tension melting into something softer, something unyieldingly honest. His lips brushed your forehead, lingering there for a moment before he pulled back, his hands never leaving your sides. “I’ll remind you every single day, sweetie. Over and over again, until there’s no room in your mind for anything but how much I adore you. Do you understand?”

You nodded, tears prickling at your eyes again—but this time, they weren’t born of pain or self-doubt. They were tears of relief, of something lighter and more hopeful.

“I’ll believe it,” you whispered, your voice trembling but earnest. “I’ll try.”

Sylus’s smirk softened into a smile, his thumb brushing away the tear that escaped down your cheek. “That’s all I ask. But just so you know…” His voice turned playful again, his lips quirking up at the corners. “I’m not above a little convincing, sweetie. And believe me, I’m very persuasive.”

“So,” he said, his smirk returning, though softer now, “what do you say we ditch this boutique? I’m thinking we’ve got better things to do than fuss over dresses that don’t deserve you anyway.” His thumb stroked gently over your hip, his touch grounding and sure.

The storm within you calmed as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if shielding you from the weight of your insecurities. For the first time in what felt like forever, you believed that maybe—just maybe, you could accept yourself just the way you are, just the way he did.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

[mariespen]

Breaking Trust. ˚➶ ｡˚

protective!Rafe Cameron x reader warnings: swearing, guns and firing into the air/ground, aggressive anger, anger issues, MDNI: fingering, p in v, praise summary: "You only noticed Rafe when he was storming down to the sandy bonfire, gun in hand." based on this request! thank you so much!

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You were perched like a porcelain doll on Rafe’s lap as the two of you watched a new movie on the TV. His hands were massaging the back of your head softly as his eyes were glued between your thighs and the screen itself. You were squinting at the captions, trying to not ask too many questions. It was your fault, anyways. You let Rafe put on a boring war movie that was three hours long. That alone should show how much you love him.

After thirty minutes into the movie, your phone subtly pings on the spot it was laying on the coffee table. You peered down casually, not drawing Rafe’s attention. The message on the dim screen was from the pouge’s group chat that you had just recently been added to. Without Rafe’s knowledge, of course. Your boyfriend, king of the kooks, had it out for any pouge that came within a mile of his perfect girlfriend. If it was up to Rafe, you would be in your own museum and displayed in a pretty box, for him and only him. In his words, 

“I don’t want the dirt on my shoes touching my pretty girl.”

Of course, this phrase was only spurred on because you got shoulder checked by a guy from the cut. You barely blinked before Rafe made sure he couldn’t move to get in your way again. That being said, if your boyfriend found out you were in a group chat with pouges, he just might lose it.

“I gotta pee baby.” You said softly, faking a squirm as you got up quickly and grabbed your phone. You looked down, seeing Rafe’s small pout. You giggled, kissing his cheek, “I’ll be back, promise.” Rafe nodded and watched your ass sway as you walked into the bathroom, his eyes glued to something new now. You closed the door quickly, scrolling through the messages.

JJ: Beach?

JB: when

JJ: idk like 11

Kie!: kk

Pope: Sounds good.

You felt nervous and a little out of place, but you still wanted to go. Hanging out with the pouges gives you the sense of adrenaline that you’ve been craving for longer than you realized. Your thumbs were shaking and your body was quick with nerves as you typed out your third ever message in the chat.

Me: perf!

Maybe it was too girlie or too kook-y. Were they even talking to you? What if they forgot they added you? Before you could come up with another scenario in your head;

*JJ liked your message*

A sigh of relief left your body and a wave of excitement stuck to your chest. All that was left was figuring out a way to avoid Rafe and make sure he’s not suspicious of you leaving so suddenly.

“Baby, are you okay?” His voice gently yells across Tannyhill.

“Yeah!” You replied, trying to not sound as frantic as you felt.

With a forged sense of causality, you walked back into the living room. The sound of your feet against the hardwood spurred Rafe’s attention and he turned over his shoulder to see you.

“What took so long?” He asked, a slight concern in his tone. “My girlfriends texted, they want to hang out!” You said, coming up with the obvious lie on the spot.

“Which ones?” Rafe asked, cocking his head.

“You know.. Kenna and Eliza!” A smile plastered on your face. You’ve never been good at lying.

Something about Rafe felt different as he shrugged and told you to have fun. Thinking you made it out, you ran up to his room to re-apply some makeup and grab a change of clothes to wear at the beach. A bikini was in your sights and you grabbed it, along with a draped skirt and one of Rafe’s sweaters. Shoving everything into a beach bag, you headed back downstairs.

“Where ya goin?” Rafe asked, towering over you now.

“Beach!” You replied, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“It’s 10:30 at night baby, are you sure?” He gently pushed, his arms coming up to hold your shoulders with concern.

“Yeah, I promise!” You kissed his cheek and brushed past him, “I love you!”

“I love you too.” Rafe sighed, obviously stressed about the abrupt change in plans.

With a surprising lack of resistance from your boyfriend, you got into your car and began to drive down to the cut, meeting the pouges at their normal spot on the beach. You grinned as cheers were heard when you showed up, a bonfire already being started. Kiera met you in the sand, a beer in her hand as she slurred her laughter. 

“Hi Kie!” You giggled with her, beginning your walk down to the fire.

JJ and John B met you with a beer and marshmallows, encouraging you to make s’mores. The fire grew throughout the night and you drunkenly ran around with them. The sand kicked at your feet as you ran from JJ after stealing his knife and the water drenching you and Kie when she convinced you to run into the waves. Pope talked to you with the others, and you mindlessly listened to his rants as you traced drawings in the sand, John B’s towel wrapped around you. Your lack of observance was a weakness. Throughout the excitement and exhilaration, you failed to notice Rafe’s truck parked at an overlook, with your boyfriend inside. His eyes were on you as you drank and forgot about anything besides what was keeping your attention that second.

When you had left the house originally, Rafe was concerned. He had his original suspicions, so he reluctantly let you leave. Topper and Kelce had invited themselves into Tannyhill once they realized your car wasn’t there anymore, but they instead found Rafe watching your location intently. After some comically deep discussions, Topper had convinced Rafe to follow you. Admittedly, this was an easy thing to convince him of. Rafe’s keys were in his pocket the moment you left. He drove with urgency, seeking you out. Rafe told himself that he was just worried about your safety. At the beach this late, the sneaker waves could grab you in a second. Deep down, he knew that there was a lack of trust, and he needed to talk to you about it. You only noticed Rafe when he was storming down to the sandy bonfire, gun in hand.

“Get away from my fucking girl!” He yelled, firing a warning shot into the air.

Confrontation sparked instantly as you tried to beg Rafe to not do anything he would regret while the pouges taunted him like it was a game. Your heart broke on the betrayal from either side. Rafe’s constant threat through the bullets in his gun and the lack of protection or awareness from the others was giving you anxiety. Your boyfriend didn’t play pretend when it came to you.

“Rafe.. Rafe please! Put it down!” You begged, tugging on his bicep.

“You brought them this.” He responded, firing a shot into the sand.

“Fuck you Rafe!” JJ spat on the dent the bullet made.

Tears flooded your eyes as neither group let up. You felt utterly hopeless and all to blame. The only thing to divert the attention of everyone was the soft sound of sirens and the illumination of quick-approaching lights. Rafe pulled you along with him, forcing you into his passenger seat with a subtle undertone of gentleness, not wanting to hurt you badly. The tires dragged through the sand as your boyfriend sped away, driving back to Tannyhill.

The air in his truck was thick with anger and anxiety. Rafe’s lack of words were enough to speak for themselves. You stared out the window in disbelief, trying to push everything away.

The truck parked at Tannyhill and Rafe got out, slamming his door before coming to the other side, picking you up from the car and carrying you into the house with a sense of annoyance. Rafe took you up to his room with little protest and sat you down on the bed.

“What the fuck?” He asked, obviously hurt by your lies.

“Rafe m’so sorry baby I-“ You began the apology rant you prepared in the car, but he cut you off.

“I trusted you. Why the fuck did you lie?” He said, scoffing at your tears, “Don’t start with me. Tell me.” “You hate them!” The words flew from your mouth, “They are my friends and I still want to hang out with them but you hate pouges! For no reason!” Your voice was rising without you realizing.

Rafe groaned in anger, “That’s a good enough reason on its own!”

“Not to bring a gun!” You yelled, emotions running high.

In an instant, he shoved your makeup off the dresser and onto the floor, shattering the pretty pink Miss Dior bottle he bought for your anniversary.

“Stop!” You sobbed, crumpling into the bed.

“I’m fucking done! You can’t keep pulling this shit!” Rafe yelled back, storming out of the room.

The strong scent of the perfume gave you a pounding headache. You crawled off of the bed and staggered into the bathroom, laying in the empty bathtub to escape the scent. You fell asleep quickly, the emotional and physical exhaustion sweeping your feet. There was no signs of Rafe as your eyelids became heavy and protested the bright bathroom light. The curled position you had pulled yourself into was the same one you fell into a deep sleep in.

Soft mutters and shaking movements awakened you slightly, hours later. Rafe cradled you in his arms, kissing your forehead. The bedroom no longer smelled like the shattered bottle of perfume, implying that he had come back in and cleaned up the mess he had made.

The blankets were a glorious feeling as he helped you into bed, wrapping his arms around you.

“M’sorry.” Rafe whispered, falling asleep with you in his arms. You were quick to follow, escaping reality to sleep.

The sun shined through your window, just as bright as the moon was the night before. Your boyfriend laid next to you, kissing your arms softly. The gentle movements woke you up, and once he realized this, he began to apologize.

“Baby I’m so sorry.” He whispered, holding your chin to lock your gaze on him, “I overreacted.” “I’m sorry too.” You responded, tearing up and collapsing into his arms, “I broke your trust. I should’ve just talked to you.” “Shh.. s’okay.” Rafe reassured, his hands playing with your hair subconsciously, “I let my anger get the best of me. I shouldn’t have.”

 You laid in his arms, feeling more alive than you did with the pouges the night before. “Let me make it up to you?” Rafe whispered, pulling you up and kissing your neck gently. You giggled before gasping at his cautious hickeys.

His hand wandered to the hem of your panties, playing with them to tease you. Your anticipatory moans lead him forward, getting on top of your desperate body.

“Rafe.. please..” You mumbled, grabbing out for him.

“Be patient, love.” He whispered, kissing down your legs after stripping you of your panties and top.

Your lips met one last time before you felt his fingers softly rub circles into your clit. You moaned out for him, holding onto his bicep for any kind of stability. 

“R-rafe..” You whimpered.

“So wet f’me.. swear you get sexier every day. Just don’t wanna share my girl.” He mumbled, kissing your neck.

“Close..” Your eyes rolled back, dumb on his fingers alone.

“No baby..” Rafe chuckled as you whined at the loss of his hand, “You’re going to cum on me, yeah?” The moan you cried out was pornographic as he slowly dragged his hard cock through your walls.

“Always so fuckin’ tight.” He groaned, fucking you slowly and deep. Rafe felt your every clench and spasm, speeding his pace up with ease.

“Too- too much..!” You cried, drunk off of pleasure as he fucked you on his cock.

“No baby.. you got it. Be good.” He whispered, feeling you coming closer and closer to edge, “So perfect.. like you were fuckin’ made f’me.” 

“Close!” You cried out, the rest of your mind consumed with the pleasure he was fucking into you. Your body trembled as you came, shaking underneath him and clenching around his cock. He groaned, gripping your hair and burying his face into the crook of your neck as he came inside of you.

Rolling off of you, Rafe laid lazily beside you. He turned his head after a few minutes, kissing you on the cheek and getting up from the bed, despite your lazy protests.

“Gotta get you cleaned up..” He said, his tone soft and careful as he wiped you down with a warm cloth.

Rafe showered your spent body in kisses before pulling you up and carrying you downstairs to the couch, kicking the forgotten cap of your broken perfume bottle under the dresser.

“Gotta get you new perfume, hm?” He said, kissing your cheek and letting you snuggle into his lap on the couch.

Rafe turned on the TV, resuming the same movie from last night. You groaned, rolling your eyes and burying your face in his bare chest.

“You love me.” Rafe said with a chuckle, kissing the top of your head.

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[kinardsevan]

when it comes to you

here, have the entirety of that oneshot @station18908 inspired. i feel more satisfied now after adding to it.

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Evan’s hand is dug tightly into the collar of Tommy’s t-shirt as their tongues tangle, Tommy lapping into the inside of his mouth with a hand grasped firmly around the inside of Evan’s thigh as his thumb brushes dangerously closer to the height of his pelvis, feeling like a weight on body. He can’t even express exactly what it is about this moment, just that he needs. 

“Evan,” Tommy tries to murmur against his lips, but the younger man is fervent, pressing himself closer if it’s possible, clinging tighter to the collar of Tommy’s shirt. 

Still, Tommy’s experience in all things outweighs Evan’s needs, because his hand leaves Evan’s leg, drawing a soft whimper from the younger one as Tommy’s hand comes to wrap around his hand and gently peel his fingers from his shirt, tilting his head forward and pressing his forehead against Evan’s as he breaks their kiss. 

“Tommy-..” 

“We should slow down,” Tommy whispers hoarsely. He leans back just enough to catch Evan’s gaze, and Evan stares back at him with the saddest expression he thinks he’s ever seen on his face, one that he doesn’t want to see at all. 

“I don’t want to stop,” Evan assures him, leaning forward and ghosting his mouth over Tommy’s, hot breath colliding—he can still smell the sweetness of the wine from dinner from Tommy. 

“Evan,” Tommy replies, his tone hedging a gentle warning. They’re playing in dangerous territory, and Tommy knows his own limits, and even though Evan Buckley really loves to push every single one of them, they’re still not there yet, and he won’t push him. But also, he can only handle so much. 

Evan gulps, looking up at his boyfriend, lifting his hand from where Tommy still has it against the collar of his shirt, until he rests it on his cheek. His eyes skate over the surface of Tommy’s face, from the three-day-old stubble on his jaw, the curve of his lips, the angle of his nose, and those ocean-blue eyes, and something in his chest cracks. 

“I-I know we’ve talked, and I-I’m not really ready yet, b-but…” He doesn’t know what else to say. They have talked, extensively, about how he’s not ready to go all the way yet. But he needs to feel Tommy’s skin under his fingers. He needs to touch parts of him far too covered by clothing. He just needs.

Tommy takes a breath, his own gaze skating over Evan’s body and face as he tilts his head slightly, slips his tongue between his lips to wet them, and it makes Evan growl lowly in his chest. Tommy’s nose twitches slightly with a smirk at Evan’s reaction. 

“Are you open to oral sex,” he asks. 

A grunt escapes Evan’s mouth before he can even reign himself in. Tommy’s mouth? On his dick? Oh holy fuck. He doesn’t even have the words in that moment, and all he can do is nod hurriedly, having to remind himself to keep swallowing from how dry his mouth just got. Tommy’s smile widens briefly, and then he leans forward and pecks him quickly before he pushes up off the couch and extends a hand to Evan. The younger man watches him with curiosity, taking his hand a bit apprehensively. 

“Where are we going,” he rasps, letting Tommy pull him out of the living room after turning off the TV and singular lamp on the side table. 

“To the bedroom,” Tommy responds, leading him around the corner into the small hallway. Inside Tommy’s bedroom, the lamp beside the bed is already turned on, emitting a soft glow into the room. It’s one of those lamps with touch settings, and it’s set to the lowest option, only lighting the room up enough to what could definitely be considered mood lighting. 

Once they’re in the room, Tommy turns back toward him, letting his gaze trail once more before he looks back up at Evan. 

“How do you want to do this? I can undress you, or if that’s too much, you can do it,” he offers. 

Evan stares at him for a time, his brain taking far too much time to process the question and then even longer to decide. He’s already so overwhelmed by the implications of what’s about to happen that his fingers are shaking as they wrap around the hem of his polo and start to pull up. Still, Tommy is not blind to his plight—he never has been—and he steps forward, sliding a hand around Evan’s neck and kissing him tenderly, his fingers delicately sliding beneath the navy polo on the younger man. They rest gently against his abs, not moving any further for a time, and it pulls the anxiety from Evan’s body as he relaxes against Tommy. Tommy, who is so protective already of him, even so early on in this thing they’re doing together. Tommy, who worries about Evan’s comfort above anything else, who puts all of Evan’s needs before his own, and who would rather stop something in pursuit of his own pleasure than risk hurting Evan. 

Tommy’s sandalwood cologne is all around him as he reaches up for his boyfriend’s calloused hand and gently pulls it down. Evan holds it in his own for the briefest of moments, against his chest, letting Tommy feel the hammering of his heart inside his chest before he slides it down to the bottom of his shirt, encouraging Tommy to continue. 

Still, ever the gentleman, he doesn’t rush it. When Tommy’s right hand joins his left underneath Evan’s shirt, he moves slowly, letting his fingers learn the angles and curves of Evan’s hips and ribs slowly until Evan finally takes half a step back, breaking their kiss and lifting his arms over his head on purpose. He stares at Tommy wantonly, and this time it’s Tommy who gulps before he lifts the shirt away before tossing it to the floor, letting it be forgotten. 

In the seconds after, they stand in the same spots for a time as Tommy’s gaze moves over Evan’s body and takes him in. It’s not like they haven’t seen each other stripped down; they’ve already had several sleepovers, and Tommy showered at Evan’s loft after Maddie’s wedding. But this feels different, probably because it is. This is overtly sexual in nature, and there’s a war happening inside Evan’s chest between the excitement over what’s about to happen and the ever-present fear of rejection, of being not-enough. But if those fears think they’re going to gain a foothold, Tommy is quick to squash them, wrapping his large hands around Evan’s ribs and pulling him back with a devouring kiss. 

Tommy’s fingers are expert as they peel Evan’s jeans open, shove them to the floor, and then he works him backward until Evan’s calves hit the bed. 

“You have far too many clothes on now,” Evan rasps against his mouth, staying upright when Tommy tries to nudge him down. The older man chuckles against his lips as Evan’s fingers slide inside his flannel. 

“Need to level the playing field?” He asks. 

Evan hums in affirmation, and Tommy moves with him as Evan shoves the layering piece off before his hands are underneath Tommy’s t-shirt, feeling every inch of his boyfriends washboard abs rippling beneath his fingers until he reaches his pectoral muscles. Tommy steps back the same way he did several minutes before, and he lifts his arms, letting Evan peel away the t-shirt and toss to join Evan’s own shirt on the floor. 

“Feel better,” Tommy asks him, that same playful smirk on his face as his fingers trail along the band of Evan’s briefs. Evan nods, his lips slightly parted as he smiles back at Tommy. 

“Good,” Tommy replies. He steps forward and kisses Evan lightly, quickly a few times, tilting his head a bit more each time. He leans forward, up against his ear. “Can you lay down for me?” 

The question causes a sharp intake for Evan, reminding him why they’re doing this to begin with. When Tommy leans back, there’s concern on his face, but it’s that expression that tamps the anxiety for Evan, reminds him that Tommy is only moving at his pace. He steps back again until he’s flush against the side of the bed, and then eases down onto it. Tommy follows him, resting a knee on the side of the bed next to Evan as he kisses him through until Evan is flat on his back while Tommy’s hands trail up and down his chest, never one to be over presumptuous. Instead, it’s Evan who guides Tommy’s hand down to his briefs, squeezes their palms over his hardened length, moaning at the feeling of Tommy’s fingers on him. 

“Okay,” Tommy rasps against his lips, stealing a few more pecks before he starts trailing kisses down Evan’s chest, wet and languid. He bites gentle nibbles into spots long his way, making Evan twitch beneath him as he gasps into the darkness of the room until Tommy is off the bed, kneeling on the floor and his fingers are sliding inside the elastic of the briefs, pulling them away from Evan’s body. 

Evan’s breath stutters as cold air hits him fully, but Tommy’s hands are quickly on his hips, thumbs brushing against his pelvis while he trails kisses over the insides of Evan’s thighs. Evan sobs softly at the torture of having every other part of his body showered with attention, the fervent need inside of him reigniting like a wildfire. 

“Tommy, p-please,” he begs softly, his hand finding the curls of his boyfriend’s hair, trying to pull him away from where he’s kissing over his left thigh. When Tommy turns his head to look up, Evan’s head is only bent high enough off the bed to catch his gaze. 

“So beautiful,” Tommy murmurs back to him, kissing his thigh once more as he stares back. “Alright, Gorgeous. I’ve got you.” 

Tommy’s hands move to the back of Evan’s calves, gently tugging him forward a few inches on the bed until they’re framing Tommy’s body. He reaches one hand back up to a hip while the other wraps around Evan’s cock, and Evan whimpers just at that contact, letting out a long, broken moan when Tommy starts to stroke him. He stammers curse words, lifting a hand to his mouth and biting at it in an attempt to quiet himself. 

Tommy frowns, pulling his hand away and reaching up for Evan’s arm. 

“Baby, don’t do that,” he murmurs when Evan looks up at him. “Don’t think you have to be quiet.” A dry, silent sob caves through Evan’s chest at the unspoken nature of what that gesture even means. Tommy stares at him for a moment with that gaze he saves just for him, and then he’s leaning forward Evan’s eyes widen just the slightest as he watches Tommy watching him while he takes his cock into his mouth. Tommy is still holding his hand as he starts to bob down, using just enough suction to drive Evan absolutely insane. His head hits the mattress again, completely overtaken by everything Tommy. The smell of his cologne mixed with his natural scent, the comfort of his black blanket beneath Evan’s body, the feeling of his naked torso against Evan’s legs, and his hands on Evan’s body. 

Moans fall out of him faster than he can think, and Tommy’s determination to keep them coming and get him louder seems to be heightened with each new lap of his tongue, bob of his head. Before long, Evan is bucking his hips, keening breathlessly as Tommy still holds his hand in one hand while the other gently presses Evan’s abdomen back to the bed, working him over even more fervently until suddenly, all too quickly and unexpectedly, his orgasm hits him like a freight train and he wilts against the bed breathlessly. Tommy works him through it, only letting up when the tension starts to ebb out of Evan’s body. 

Lips trail up Evan’s abs, his ribs, a few dropped in the center of his chest over his heart, to his collarbones into his pulse point, his jaw, and then Tommy finds his lips again, a pleased smile on his face as he drops a few pecks on Evan’s still open lips. 

“F-fuck,” Evan stammers, his pupils still blown as he looks up at Tommy hovering above him. He finds the ability to move his fingers again and slides a hand up the other man’s chest to the side of his neck, moving his tongue several times until there’s saliva in his mouth again. 

“So that was okay,” Tommy asks him, a little too cheeky if Evan has anything to say about it. 

“Fuck off,” he rasps back. He swallows, his eyes trailing over Tommy’s face, catching on his lips—swollen and oh so pink, and they were just wrapped around his- 

“Mm- not tonight, sweetheart.” He presses down on the bed, kissing Evan so softly that it makes the younger man moan into his mouth again, the tiniest whimper falling into Tommy’s mouth. All he can think is fuck fuck fuck because he knew he liked Tommy, he likes him a lot, but this is edging into some really dangerous territory and it’s not just the hormones from that orgasm, he swears. This feeling is the same one he had in his chest that morning on the ship when he stopped Tommy for those three seconds, only amplified by six billion degrees. His hand slides around to the back of Tommy’s hand, keeping him close as he licks over Tommy’s bottom lip, into his mouth. He wants to keep him this close forever, live inside their own little infinity where this man always seems to know how to take care of him and put him first, never pushes him to do more than he’s comfortable with but still manages to raise their limits in a comforting way. Its way too soon to think it, but Tommy Kinard might be it for him. 

“Hmm,” Tommy hums softly, finally pulling up a moment later, looking Evan over. 

“I had no idea it could be like that,” Evan murmurs to him, brushing his thumb over Tommy’s lip. The older man grins down at him, dropping another quick peck onto his lips. Evan lets out a long breath and then runs his hand down the expanse of Tommy’s chest, toward his own pants, which are apparently unbuttoned now. Evan furrows his brow. 

“Sorry,” Tommy rasps at him. “Got a little uncomfortable.” 

“Do you need some help with that,” Evan asks, trying to reach lower. Tommy’s face flushes a little, but the smirk on his face remains. 

“I think I had enough help already,” he admits as Evan’s fingers slide inside the pants and he comes into contact with wetness. Oh. Oh. Evan smirks back at him, and then leans up on an elbow, kissing Tommy again. He brushes his fingers gently over Tommy’s softening length, and the older man jolts above him, a hand quickly coming up and grabbing Evan’s arm tightly, but he quickly loosens his grip. 

“S-sorry,” he stammers.

Evan smirks, pecking him again. “A little sensitive?” 

Tommy growls against his lips. “Don’t push it, or I’ll show you overstimulation.” 

Evan just chuckles against his lips as he slides his hand back out of Tommy’s pants and around his back, gripping him by his ass and pulling him flush down against him as he trails kisses along Tommy’s jaw. 

“I can’t wait."  

[nayedoll]

Smokey eyes

joost klein x fem!reader

a/n : found this in my drafts from may LOLLL kind of scared to post smut but whatever 😝

summary: joost can’t keep his hands off of you while you’re doing his makeup backstage.

warnings : 18+, nsfw, fingering

rpf ahead, do not read if uncomfortable !!!

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“Joost, you have to stay still if you want me to do this right” you laughed and lightly slapped his shoulder.

“I have to go on stage in like 30 minutes,” he protested and brought you closer to kiss you. “We have enough time.” he mumbled in your ear and placed a peck on your temple.

You two had met during Eurovision where you worked as a makeup artist for Bambie Thug with whom Joost had become close with. As a result, there were many times you would encounter him while he was talking to Bambie or when he’d greet you with his lovely smile. Eventually, he got the courage to ask you for your number at the end of the competition, which you gladly gave him.

Five months later, you were assisting him on his tour as his now established girlfriend. It was a very last minute decision to do a smokey eye on Joost for his concert that day, him getting the idea as you were smoking backstage. And of course, he trusted none other than you with the task, something you appreciated.

But what you thought was going to take 5 minutes ended up being 20 minutes, in which you had hardly finished one eye. With Joost continuously touching you and teasing you, getting distracted was only bound to happen.

He would keep opening his eyes just to take a look at you, repeating how beautiful you were or, how lucky he was to have you. You tried your best to not give in to his cheesiness, rolling your eyes and telling him to stop god knows how many times.

After a lot of persuading, he finally seemed to calm down, letting you focus on the eye makeup which was the initial plan. As you applied the eyeshadow on his eyelid, you smiled to yourself at how cute he looked, his eyes slightly twitching. You carefully opened his eye to draw on his waterline as well, admiring the beautiful contrast between the dark eyeshadow and his bright blue eyes.

Just as you thought you were done, you felt his hand slowly move up your bare thigh and stop just at the edge of your skirt. A tingling sensation ran through your body, earning a sharp exhale from you. Joost noticed and smiled slyly, parting your legs with his hand just enough to give him access to your inner thigh, closer to your sensitive spot.

You bit your lip and added some finishing touches as he lightly brushed his fingers over your clothed cunt, teasing your clitoris. His touch made you suck in a breath, barely giving you enough time before Joost slid one finger inside your wet folds, his unprompted gesture causing you to moan.

He smiled at you as you tried your best to continue on with the makeup with shaking hands. He soon added a second finger, pulling his digits in and out of you at a perfect speed. The sounds coming from you were desperate and embarrassing, something only he could ever draw out of you. His thumb started caressing your clit and you finally lowered your hand from his eyelid, looking for support in his shoulders.

“It’s okay baby,” he murmured, grabbed your chin and pulled you into a sloppy kiss. His lips trailed along your jawline and neck while he grasped your waist with his free hand. You felt yourself reaching your climax as Joost increased his speed, your fingers digging into his shoulders as a sign.

“Go ahead, schat.” Joost mumbled against your neck, licking and biting there, making it harder for you to hold out your orgasm.

“Fuck,” You let out a yelp as you came on his fingers, which he brought to your lips so that you could taste yourself, a dirty habit you and Joost had adopted.

“So pretty,” he mumbled and tucked a few hair strands behind your ear, giving you a sweet smile. He searched the room for something to clean you up with before giving you a couple more kisses. It was so intoxicating that you even forgot the reason you were there in the first place.

“Joost, you’re on stage in 5.” His manager knocked on the door, bringing you back to reality. Joost yelled out something in agreement, turning briefly to look at you.

“I hope you enjoy the concert.” He kissed you one last time on the cheek and got up quickly, leaving you wanting more.

[nottivagos]

i love art student danny im begging for more🙏 literally anythinh

Welcome Notti's "Not So Innocent" Notebook where I write some filth to make your Friday a little bit better <3 || 18+ mdni pls and ty

an: can this be classed as filth? i don't know. NONNIE, I AM GONNA BE SO HONEST WITH YOU, THIS ASK MOTIVATED ME TO FINISH THIS SO TYSM<3<3 this was originally going to be called "Crude Drawing Of An Angel" but i couldn't commit to a full fic, sorry! :(

The droning bell signalling the next period droned over Daniel’s campus. The lights were dim in the typically busy art department in his college. All the students had left after the lesson had ended, but here he still was, with you sitting pretty on his lap.

He didn’t understand why he was so nervous about it. You’d done this numerous times before, just when you actually had clothes on. Adjusting his glasses, he pushed them up the bridge of his nose before exhaling deeply, feeling the breath fan against his face slightly from his nostrils.

Maybe it was because you’d given him your time of day. You were special to him, not like he’d fully tell you that, as you’d been becoming his muse subtly. The way he hid his sketches around you explained that in more ways than others. Danny was used to just hiding in the shadows of the college art studio, left to his own devices to doodle in his crisp sketchbook or to play around with a new set of oils he’d bought due to him running low, but not this. 

He’d completed many real-life pieces beforehand, but that was using models as references out of an odd Playboy magazine he used to keep hidden from his parents before he’d moved on campus. But having one on his lap? So intimately too? It was enough to make him drunk on the intense nerves he was feeling.

“Have you never had a naked lady on your lap before?” you whispered smoothly, eyebrow raised as your bare tits brushed against his clothed chest. Lazy arms rested on his shoulders, a knowing smile on your face as Danny looked on edge, unsure on where to place his own frantic palms to keep you stable in his lap.

Danny’s face fully flushed at the question, breathing hitched before he chuckled awkwardly, flashing a bashful smile that revealed his shiny braces whilst his brown doe eyes studied your own features. He let the question simmer in his mind for a moment, a gulp following as he tried to remove the embarrassment growing in his throat.

“N-No. Never,” a croaky voice replied, stuttering and fumbling on his words as his growing nervousness became more palpable. 

“First time, huh,” you mumbled, a soft hand trailing from his shoulder to cupping his burning cheek with a smirk. “Makes sense why you’re so jittery then,” you added, brushing a soothing thumb over the scorching apple, making Danny divert his gaze elsewhere meekly.

He swallowed timidly again, squeezing his eyes shut briefly, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly at the harsh gulp. Bashful and fidgety hands moved to hold your bare torso’s sides ever too tightly, nails piercing the flesh, as the grip on your body felt like a clammy vice.

Giggling softly at his skittish body language, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of cuteness in your stomach. He really was a nervous thing. “You’re so cute, Danny,” the compliment rolled off of your tongue sweetly, your thumb coming down to trail his freshly shaven jawline. “All bashful like this…” you trailed off, thumb now pressing against his bottom lip with a gentle ease, “makes me wanna keep you like this forever,”  you continued with another small, giddy smile.

He didn’t dare look at you. If anything, he didn’t know where to look. Did he look at your bare tits or at your face? Both ideas made his brain fuzzy— a flurry of frantic thoughts jumbling together— and his insides jump with excitement. 

Danny was painfully hard. The tension of his erection in the confines of his boxers didn’t help. It was embarrassing, really. How the hell did someone get hard from a woman just sitting on their lap? His giddiness was the equivalent of a horny teenager having their first partner kiss them for the first time, and if anything, that made him more cuter in your eyes.

“Someone’s a bit excited,” you giggled, eyes flicking down to his clothed hardness before looking back down at his face from above. His eyes had followed yours, as your hand came to guide his gaze back up on your own when you cupped his jaw, flashing a knowing smile.

“I-I’m not!” He protested, practically blurting the words out in desperation but failing miserably to convince you. “I’m just not used to it, that’s all,” he added with another bashful mumble, his doe gaze fixed on yours.

“Keep telling yourself that, Danny,” you teased lightheartedly with a small scoff. “I bet if I whispered in your ear right now that you looked beautiful, you’d come in your boxers,” you added with a smug smile, to which Danny replied with wide eyes. “Or maybe if I taught you how to touch my breasts properly you would too?”

“I mean, is that really necessary? I don’t—” Danny messed up his words dramatically, his cheeks pricked a deep crimson colour as you looked down at him with that cheeky glimpse in your eye. “—think it’s necessary, that’s all,” he tried to protest again with a low voice as slow hands came to place his hands on your soft breasts, the intimacy of the action electric. 

“That’s better,” you mumbled quietly, half-lidded eyes darkening at the sight. “Such a good boy for me, aren’t you, Danny?”

“Y-yes,” he muttered almost instantly, following your eyes so intently. Such a good boy for you, following your every movement like an eager little puppy. It made you adore him more really, he was useless like this, and that’s what made it endearing. 

Danny shifted uncomfortably on his stool, the stifling hardness of his erection fighting his boxers was becoming torturous. It created some friction that made you gasp softly on your own part, before you giggled at Danny’s discomfort. 

“Who knew you could get hard just from looking at a naked woman, Danny?” you teased, giggling as you came down to rest your lips against the shell of his ear. “You look so pathetic right now,” the purr rolled off of your tongue so intoxicatingly for Danny, as his thumbs came to graze against your nipples almost hesitatingly.

You gave him the nod of affirmation, and almost instantly he started to roll his thumbs in circular motions until your nipples became hardened peaks. Danny could feel his body burning with an overwhelming passion he’d never felt before. Something about touching a bare body for the first time made him ever so pathetically aroused, and God did it look good on him.

“Good boy, Danny,” you praised ever so seductively into his ear, hot breath hitting it ever so harshly. “Just like that, mhm, that’s right,” you added whenever he stopped, (a subtle prompt for him not to stop) to which he quickly started to do the motions again.

His hips started to buck pathetically as he whined when you pressed a searing kiss onto his mouth. You began to move with him, his trembling hands still groping your breasts with a sort of palpable passion now. It was no doubt that he was close to coming, the way his movements became desperate and erratic was in no doubt because he was chasing his inevitable release. 

Tongues twisted together in your mouths as you silenced his moans when they dissipated from you two making out with each other. You devilishly smiled as you felt his head tilt back and his eyes shut whilst you trailed your kisses down his neck. He groaned out in his response, a guttural one, as he became overwhelmed whilst riding out his high.

Panting as you tried to gain some composure at the same time as Danny, you laughed breathlessly as you looked down at him again, removing your lips from his neck. “Did you just come in your boxers?” you asked whilst amazed that he’d actually come in his boxers as Danny’s eyes widened at the uncomfortable stickiness he was now sitting in.

“For fuck’s sake…” Danny muttered, laughing meekly. “I’m sorry, I just got carried—”

“No, Danny,” you cut him off, pressing your pointer fingers against his lips. “That was fucking hot”, you continued, before letting your hand rest against your side.

“I-It was?!” He exclaimed dumbfounded, eyes wide as his breathing was still a little unsteady. “Yes, it was,” you murmured, brushing a gentle hand against the side of his face. “And next time we’re like this…” you whispered against his lips, “I’m going to make you even more excited so you come harder.”

like art student!danny? fancy sending me an ask so you can be included in my notebook! - notti <3

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Okay, okay I'll bite :) if you do write Rossi can we get grumpy, jealous old man who decides actually yes he would very much like to devour you and he's gonna... que possessive kissing and smut?

No problem if not but thank you for listening 😊

AH FINALLY A ROSSI REQUEST I immediately had inspiration strike with this!

SSA David Rossi x BAU!Reader

Summary: When a case leads the team to having to go undercover in a swingers club, the youngest woman and oldest man of the team get paired together. Tensions are high, leading to some confrontations.

CW: AGE GAP, jealous!Rossi, jealous!Reader, encounters with unsubs, murder, sprinkle of angst?, possessive!Rossi, possible misuse of Italian phrases, fingering, p in v,

a/n: first time writing for Rossi be gentle on me guys 😭

~~~

“What if there’s two of them?”

Dr. Spencer Reid, your insanely intelligent colleague proposed. Causing a new light to shine down on the case before you. Homicides, always a male and a female, always drastically different in age, keys hidden in the male’s pocket. Recent findings pointed to the unsub, or now unsubs, striking at a swingers meetup. Notorious in this city.

“Just because their bodies are found together doesn’t mean they’re being taken at the same time,” you added.

“Exactly! It would make perfect sense. An older male to lure in the younger female victims, and a younger female to rope in the older males,” Reid proclaimed.

“They’d blend in perfectly,” Hotch stated matter-of-factly.

“So you’re saying we have a killing duo on our hands?” Rossi questioned.

“But how has no one been able to identify who they’ve left with? If they are striking at the same club every single time, someone would’ve had to seen something,” Emily nibbled on the tip of her pen as she thought.

“When you’re somewhere like that, you try not to notice others. Usually swingers have their eyes set on one other couple, one they’ve most likely seen there before. We’re looking for a couple who are set on taking out a new member of the party. Someone who wouldn’t be familiar with anyone else,” Hotch answered.

“So they wouldn’t even notice that something was out of the norm,” Morgan added.

“Looks like someone is going to need to go undercover,” J.J. looked around.

That made the air in the room tighten. It was always a huge risk letting an agent out into the active scene. Let alone two.

“Y/L/N, David. You two will have to do this,” Hotch locked eyes with you. Brow stern against his forehead.

“What?” You asked, confused by his certainty.

No one else on the Team knew of you and Rossi’s quiet falling out. Rossi had taken you home during a high risk case. Refusing to let any of the women go home alone. Leading to you and Rossi sharing a few drinks inside your apartment. Alcohol causing a personal topic to arise between you. Ending with you straddling Rossi’s lap as the two of you interlocked mouths. Hands roaming each other’s bodies before Rossi pulled back. “We can’t do this,” he could not longer look you in the eyes. Breaking something deep inside you. Allowing your anger to persevere, storming off to your room and locking the door.

Things had never been the same between you.

“Oldest male on the team, and the youngest female. Sounds like their M.O. to me,” Reid chirped.

Your eyes darted to Rossi, who was as calm and collected as ever. Seemingly unbothered by Hotch’s order.

“H-Hotch—“

“It’s an order, Agent,” Hotch sternly shut down your pleas.

You sighed. Composing yourself. Preparing for the directions you were going to receive.

For the next few hours, you were prepped for your night. Carefully being instructed on how to act to draw the killers in. Clothing and jewelry being picked out for you, down to the most minor details. Hair pulled back in a high-ponytail as to make you seem younger. Decorated with some expensive looking jewelry and a full face of makeup. Dress resting mid-thigh. Rossi wore a nice button-down, opened at the top to reveal a gold chain dangling from his neck.

Hotch and Morgan dropped you off a long walks away from the club. Repeating everything you had previously been coached on.

“Aaron, we’ve got this. We can hear you in our ears and everything,” Rossi calmed him.

“If I tell you to back out, you back out,” Hotch locked eyes with you.

“Yes sir,” you nodded.

Rossi got out, silently holding the door for you. Offering his hand to help you out. Taking it as to play into character. Knowing this would be your hardest challenge of the evening: Having to play nice with David. Interlocking arms as you began down the sidewalk. No words being spoken for many blocks.

“You look beautiful,” Rossi complimented.

“Don’t flatter me,” you rolled your eyes, voice not above a whisper.

Finally turning the corner to see hoards of couples of all ages nonchalantly walking into the building. You were on high alert. Trying to already detect the suspects based off how they looked at you.

Rossi’s arm snaked around your waist, hand resting on your hip. You leaned your body into his side. Trying to solidify the part you were selling. He nodded at the bouncer as you walked inside. Heading to the bar as you had been told to, ordering a drink for both of you. Having to fake some conversation and a certain kind of innocence.

“Remember, they will want to approach you. Make sure not to coax anyone in,” Morgan said in your ear.

“Reid will be in there shortly to keep an eye. Y/N, when you get him alone, Reid will be waiting for your signal to apprehend him. Rossi has cuffs hidden,” Hotch reassured in your ear.

Your eyes remained on Rossi. Fingers twirling his loose fitting tie around his neck. His eyes fixated on yours, occasionally dropping to look at your cleavage hanging out of your top. Not so casually checking you out with a smile.

“Have you ever done anything like this, David?”

“Swinging?” He laughed, “Of course not. It was all the rage when I was younger. Just never tickled my fancy.”

“What about having a pretty young girl throwing herself at you?” You flirted, hooded eyes staring up at him. Closing the distance between you.

Rossi’s mouth hung open as you got nose to nose with him. Unable to deny how flustered you were getting him. Sweet aroma filling his nose as he fought himself from leaning in and kissing you. Knowing how inappropriate it would be. That being the reason he had shut you down before. Not wanting to have anymore new rules made because he got overly friendly with someone. No matter how badly he wanted you.

“Hey,” a male voice pulled you away from Rossi.

Turning on your heel to face the older man. A young blonde woman hooked to his side. Both of them moderately attractive. Perfectly fitting the description of the unsubs.

“Hi,” you dolled up your voice as you fluttered your lashes at him. Rossi’s hand splayed across your lower back. Fingers digging into the tender skin.

“We couldn’t help but notice you two from across the room. You guys come here often?” the young girl asked, her attention fully on your partner.

“Actually, our first time,” Rossi’s deep voice had a hint of flirtation on it.

“Oh wow!” the older man raised his eyebrows with his words, “Well, I’m Craig. And this is my Penny.” Extending his hand out to shake yours. Smiling as you exchanged pleasantries together. Rossi and Penny doing the same.

“I’m David, and this is Y/N,” Rossi smiled, making sure to keep his eyes locked in on the girl.

“So are you guys looking for someone for the night?” Craig asked casually.

“Uh— I believe that’s how all this works right?” Rossi chuckled softly. Trying his best to play it completely casual. Both of you knowing there was a good chance this was the couple you were looking for.

Craig laughed at Rossi’s ignorance, “Pretty much. We have fun tonight and bring them home in the morning. Now, David, I’m gonna need you to be real sweet and nice to my beautiful Penny. She can sometimes be feisty, be prepared for the craziest night of your life.”

Rossi cocked a brow at the young woman before him. Taking a step away from you to inch closer to her.

A feeling you had been fighting all night finally began to boil up inside you. You knew it was all an act. But something about Rossi acting like he was interested in her made your stomach flip. Knowing you could not show any hint of jealousy. Deciding to plunge yourself head first into the unsub.

You walked closer to him, hands flattening against his chest. “So I guess that leaves you and me,” you looked up at him through your lashes. The man before you sighed, toothy grin painting his face. You could feel Rossi’s eyes digging into you from behind. Not even giving him a side glance. His touch burned against your skin in a way that had every hair standing on end. Knowing something was off about him. Feeling a pit forming in your stomach and knot in your throat. Having to keep composure.

“Why don’t we get outta here?” He suggested. Offering him a girlish giggle. Allowing him to take your hand in his to lead you away.

Rossi’s chest burned. Mouth running completely dry as he watched a killer pull you away. Having to take a deep breath before giving his attention back to the other killer.

“Don’t be so tense, old timer. Craig will treat her good,” Penny swiped her fingers up his chest. Rossi bit his tongue. Teeth grinding together as he followed behind the girl. Leading to a remote room off to the side. Pulling him through the curtain with her, hands roaming his body. Rossi was noticeably tense.

“I know how to help you relax,” she dropped to her knees before him. Hands ghosting up his legs, stopping when she felt something stiff in his pocket. Doeing her eyes up at him, “What’s in there~?”

Rossi was quick to grab the handcuffs out of his pocket. Jingling the chain in front of her. A soft smirk on his lips.

“Wow, didn’t expect someone like you to be into that sort of thing,” she cooed, “Bring those for little ole me?”

Rossi’s finger tapped under her chin, urging her to stand. Quickly grabbing her and pinning her against the table in front of him. Locking the cuffs around her wrists especially tight, “I always have to keep cuffs for scumbags like you and your friend. You’re under arrest for the murders of several goers to this club.”

Penny scoffed. Fighting back against his grip, rolling her body onto the floor. Rossi was quick to pin her in her place, holding her down firm, “Quit resisting!” Patting down and not finding any weapons on her. Realizing she was a distraction so Craig could get rid of the women first, then come and take care of the men.

“You’ll never get to her in time. Craig’s already got that beautiful face of hers cut to shreds,” Penny growled, demonically smiling over her shoulder. Sending a certain chill down David’s spine.

“Reid! I need you to come keep hands on her. I’m going to get Y/N!” Rossi shouted into his hidden mic as he kept the young woman pinned to the ground.

Reid quickly sprinted into the club room, handcuffs dangling from his long fingers. Rossi quickly grabbed them from him as he hurried to the side you had been taken to.

The Killer had you pinned against a wall somewhere behind the building. Nose trailing your neck. Causing you to lose your breath. Still having to pretend like you were enjoying your time with him.

“Does it make you feel like a fucking whore?”

Your heart sank. Mouth running dry when the sound of his hands shimming in his pocket rang in your ears.

“What?”

“Running off with some random guy? While my girl is in there showing your man how to properly get laid?” His hand trailed up your exposed thigh.

“I thought that was why everyone was here?”

“Men can’t help their need to breed as many women as possible. That’s what you’re good for. That’s why I’m making sure my sweet girl gives your man everything he’s been missing,” his voice disgusted you.

The cold blade flattened against your thigh. Fear seeping into your veins for the first time tonight. Gasping shallowly. Swiftly kneeing him at the crotch. Causing him to stumble backwards if only for a moment.

The door being kicked out caused you to jump.

There was Rossi. Panting and hair disheveled. Lights of the club illuminating him like your guardian angel. Rossi did not hesitate to layout the man in front of you. Clean fist to the face causing Craig to hit the ground. Pinning him down as he continued punching him over and over again. Blood splattered in the air momentarily before Rossi realized what he was doing. Flipping him over onto his back to cuff him just like he had Penny.

“You’re done! No more coaxing couples away for your sick fantasies!” Rossi barked down at him, firm hand holding his head against the ground. Hotch and Morgan were quick inside. Guns held to protect them. Morgan allowed Rossi off him, escorting the killer out to the troopers.

Rossi’s hand flattened against his hair. Turning quickly to look at you. Back still pressed firmly against the wall, hand gripping at your chest. Still shocked that he had pulled a weapon on you. “Oh God, Y/N,” Rossi came over, hands cupping both sides of your face, “Did he hurt you?”

You shook your head, unable to form words. Feeling tears suddenly burning down your cheeks. Losing yourself in fear just for a moment. Rossi’s brows were upturned, his concern for you abundantly clear on his face. Eyes scanning every inch of you with worry. Suddenly pulling you into a tight hug. Arms wrapping around and a hand resting on your head. Hips lips pressing a tender kiss into your scalp. Your arms wrapped around him, nestling your face into his shoulder.

Finally feeling safe again. Steadying out your breath into his skin, “Thank you, David.”

You knew the BAU would not let anything happen to you. However, whenever you’re off alone with someone who has the intent to murder you fear finds a way of crawling under your skin. And when you felt his weapon drawl and no one was around, it truly took over.

Hotch’s hand flattened against your arm, “Are you alright?”

You nodded, “He had just pulled out his knife. H-He didn’t hurt me.”

“Good,” Hotch nodded, giving a reassuring look to Rossi as he walked through the door to follow behind Derek.

Rossi kept right next to you. Arm wrapping around you. Similar to before. Only now you felt engulfed by him. Taken aback by how scared he had looked. And how he held you so closely now. Not letting anyone pry you away. Walking you back to your other team members. All of which were equally as concerned. All of them examining and hugging you.

An overwhelming rush of exhaustion washed over you. Excusing yourself and crawling into the back of one of the SUVs. Waiting for whoever the driver would be to take the wheel and take you home. Not concerned with going to the office for your own vehicle. Finally having a moments peace. Alone.

Minutes ticked by when you were jolted aware by the sound of the drivers door opening. Jumping, nervous system still in defense mode. Sitting up to see Rossi taking his seat. Eyes looking back at you in the rear view. Soft, squinted eyes greeted you with a smile.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’s just me,” Rossi’s mature voice softly reassured. You sighed, attempting to fully sit up. Rossi held his hand up at you, “Relax. Lay down and I’ll wake you when we get there.” Something about his voice had a warmth washing over you. Comforting you even more than being alone had.

You drifted in and out of a light slumber. Instinctively knowing all the turns and curves to your place. Coming to when you felt him pull into a parking spot. Before you could sit up, Rossi had already gotten out and was opening the door for you. Extending his ring clad hand out to help you to your feet. A quiet “thank you” meekly escaped you.

The walk to your apartment door was completely silent. The click of your heels on the pavement rattling the peaceful symphony of the night. Chill of the breeze pricking at your skin. Turning on your heel when you finally reached the door. Smiling at Rossi, “Well… thank you, again. For everything.”

Rossi looked around, tucking his face down in an attempt to hide the glow of his cheeks. Tonight made him realize just how much he cared about you. Denying for months that certain tug in his chest when he would see you smile or hear you laugh. How the smell of your perfume would linger deep inside him. Bringing him back to the last time he had brought you home.

Brown eyes looked into yours. Dimly yellow porch light illuminated his face. Admiring your hero before you. Trying to push down your feelings for him. Having to respect the boundary he had set with you. No matter how badly it hurt you.

You began fiddling with your lock. Key clicking inside. Looking over your shoulder one last time to tell Rossi bye.

Surprised with the look on his face.

Sad eyes met yours. Glossy in the pale light. Eyebrows furrowed together with concern. A hint of frustration shown on his jaw. Locked tightly while his nostrils flared.

“Y/N—“

Rossi reached for you when you began inside. That was when you saw the blood and bruises on his knuckles. Turning quickly and taking his hand in yours, “Oh, Rossi. Why didn’t you let the medics fix this?”

Fingers lightly tapped at the open wound. Causing Rossi to scrunch his nose up in pain. Flickering your gaze up to his face. “Come in and let me get you bandaged,” you wrapped your hand around his wrist pulling him in the door with you. Leading him into your kitchen to take a seat at the island. Sighing as he sat on one of the tall stools.

“It’s not that bad—“ he protested as he watched you walk over and lock the door.

“Just let me help you,” you breathed out, walking over to your sink and squatting. Looking under the cabinet for your first aid kit. Rummaging through all the old cleaning supplies and sponges still in their wrapper. Finally seeing the transparent box with a red heart on the front. Taking your place in front of Rossi as the box laid open on the countertop.

Taking a wet cloth and dabbing the dried blood from his knuckles. Rossi’s eyes locked into your face the entire time. Watching how your closed mouth smile never faltered. How gentle your hands were with his gashes and bruises. Admiring how your fingers traced the lines and bumps on his hands. Like you wanted to learn every blemish and scar.

“You really let that guy have it, didn’t you?”

Rossi chuckled.

Truly he had not even realized he was beating the unsub up as bad as he was. Lost in his rage for you. His instincts telling him to show the guy a lesson. To somehow avenge your honor. Jealousy playing a part in his anger.

“It’s like I blacked out,” Rossi sighed.

“Never seen you get so angry at a case.”

“Well. Your safety isn’t on the line every case,” Rossi nonchalantly confessed. Causing your eyes to bounce up to his suddenly. Full, brown orbs meeting yours with a smile. Shaking off the heat in your face. Focusing back on his hand, getting the last bit of tape around it. Hair falling down loosely in front of your face.

Rossi’s other hand came up to tuck it behind your ear. You looked up at him through your lashes. Hooded eyes meeting yours. A closed mouth smile plastered across his face. Hand lingering on your cheek.

“I shouldn’t have ever let you go,” his soft voice breathed out.

“It was part of the mission, Rossi—“

“That’s not what I mean,” Rossi leaned in, planting his lips to yours. Hand delicately caressing the side of your face. Body overloading with feelings. Unsure if you should allow this to happen. Wanting so badly to melt into him. He was the one who set the boundary. And now he’s here in your apartment. Kissing you.

“David, please…” you breathed out, begging, “Don’t string me on again. I can’t handle… can’t handle you leaving me again.”

“Shhh,” he reassured, “I won’t. I promise you have me. I’m not walking away this time.”

You pressed into him. Deepening the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Rossi’s hands gripped your hips, softly cascading down to your ass. Feeling the plump skin through your hiked up dress. Fingers daring to pull the material the rest of the way up.

“I’m sorry that son of a bitch even put his hands on you,” Rossi grumbled. Possessive nature showing. Calloused digits digging into your flesh. Rising off the stool so that your bodies could meet.

“Don’t be sor—“

“I wanted to kill him,” Rossi growled into your mouth, “Knock his fucking teeth in.”

Something about the tone on his voice had you weak in the knees. Maybe it was the grip he had on your ass. Maybe it was the feeling of his semi-hard pressing into your front.

“That asshole didn’t even know who he was dealing with. Hands on my girl… I should’ve shot him,” Rossi continued as he walked you back into the living room.

His girl.

Shocking you with how quickly he delved into you. Clearly fed up with having to hide anything he was feeling. Wanting to make it known how much he cherished you. Just a sliver of how important you were to him.

You fell onto the couch when it met the back of your knees. Rossi crawled on top of you, hands roaming up your exposed thighs. Fingers splaying on both sides of his face as he latched back onto your lips. Dress hiking up as he found his place between your legs.

Rossi’s tongue split your lips. Licking up into your mouth. Wanting to taste every bit of you. Devouring your lips with his.

His hands found the hem of your panties. Cold rings tickling your heated skin. Lips planting themselves on your neck. Decorating wet kisses along the skin. Catching a moan in your throat when his teeth grazed a soft spot.

“Bellissima,” Rossi muttered.

Sitting back on his knees to pull your panties down your legs. Exposing your soaking core to the cool air of your apartment. Sending a shiver up your spine. Causing air to hitch in your throat. Doe eyeing him innocently.

“What is it?” Rossi’s soft expression had you seeing spots. Face completely flushed at his gravely tone. Teasing you as if his fingers were not mere inches from where you wanted them most.

“Please,” you pouted.

That sad face had his heart tugging. Skipping a beat with the way the dim light of the kitchen reflected so beautifully in your eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he dipped down to press his lips back against yours. Fingers finally dipping between your folds. Pulling a guttural gasp from you. Hands gripping his shoulders as you wide-eyed him.

Swirling gently around your clit, enjoying the way your face contorted in pleasure. Finally inserting one of his thick fingers into you. Forcing an arch from your back at the sudden fullness. Brows pressing together and your mouth forming an ‘O’ shape.

“You’re so wet, amore,” Rossi smiled lips kissing down to the exposed pieces of breast that peaked through the top of your dress. Lightly sinking his teeth into the meaty flesh. Biting a soft purple bruise. Marking you as his.

“Dave,” you moaned as he curled a finger inside. His tongue flattened against the bruise on your chest, soothing the burning sting for a moment. Trailing back up to your neck. “Should I put one here too? Make sure everyone knows?” his tone was dark as his canine gently grazed. Moaning breathlessly for him. Fingers still coaxing you towards your finish. Thumb stimulating your nub.

Hand tangling in his hair as you began grinding against his fingers. A gruff chuckle vibrated in David’s chest, “So needy.”

“I need it,” you whined as your nails scratched at his scalp. Feeling yourself so close to the edge. Chasing your high on his hand. Fingers that were perfectly made to fit you. To please you.

“Give it to me,” Rossi kissed below your ear. Hot breath stinging your skin. Eyes rolling back as you quivered around him. Moaning loudly as you fluttered around his fingers. Feeling a burn in your lower half that perfectly warmed you. Loving how he smiled, watching your face with lust blown eyes.

Decorating your hot skin with his gentle lips. Finishing with a passionate one on your lips. Pulling his fingers from you. Admiring the way they glistened with your juices. Placing them between his lips. Humming in satisfaction, “Next time I’ll have to taste it directly from the source.”

You smiled, somehow blushing at his words. Fingers petting down his back. Never having been with someone this enamored by you. Wanting every little piece of you only for himself. Claiming you as his and his alone.

“Do you have it in you for me?” David kissed you gently as he sat up, removing his button-down above you. Butterflies floated around your stomach. Anticipation causing you so much excitement. You nodded aggressively. Sitting up to help him remove his clothing. Your hands tugging his belt out of its loops. Throwing it to the side as you ran your hands against his bare chest.

“I want you inside me,” you kissed his neck. Lips turning hungry against his tan skin. Biting into his shoulder momentarily. Rossi groaned, fingers tugging down the zipper along your spine. Dress falling loose around your shoulders, making it easy for him to pull it over your head. Tossing it aside somewhere that did not matter right now. Both of you shimmying to remove the other’s clothes; Rossi’s hands on your bra and yours on his zipper.

Rossi leaned you back against the couch, skin pressing together. Soft chest hair tickling against your breasts. Cock prodding against your entrance. His gaze attempting to memorize every hill and valley of your body. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,” he kissed you in between each word.

Large hand coming down to line himself up with you, slowly pressing into you. Allowing just the tip in first, making sure you could adjust. Finally bottoming out with a slow and steady thrust. Rolling his hips into you, throat tightened as your walls gripped around him.

Rossi found a rhythm that had you calling out to him. Swearing you had never felt anything this good. Filling your insides perfectly with his girth. Stubble prickling on the skin of your clavicle as he kissed along your neck. Hums vibrating your skin with each meeting of hips.

“I’ll never let another person touch you again,” Rossi promised taking a deep breath. Teeth gritted together as his hips grew erratic. Swearing under his breath. Arm hooking under your lower back, arching you further. Other hand gripping the arm of the couch.

“Only mine. Right, baby?” Rossi said, more of a statement than a question. You nodded, moaning when the head of his cock hit a soft spot deep inside you. Shooting pleasure through you.

“Cock too good? Can’t even talk to me?” Rossi’s condescension made your eyes roll back. Deep voice edging you along. Tender lips growing aggressive against yours. Sloppily kissing against your mouth, pulling your lip between his teeth. You were completely lost in ecstasy.

Your still sensitive pussy had you close to another orgasm. Constricting when his body would become flush with yours. Knowing if he kept this pace up you would be a screaming mess underneath him.

“Perfect,” Rossi’s husky voice exhaled. Feeling himself approaching his own high. Fingers digging into your tender flesh as he twitched inside you.

Completely enamored by the sounds you made. Each meeting of hips causing a symphony and squeaks. A melody he knew he would never get tired of.

“Wanna be filled up with me, sweet girl? Make sure you feel who you belong to. A little reminder,” Rossi groaned.

“Please, Dave,” you whined.

The curve of his cock finally sent you over the edge. Waves of ecstasy washed over your body. Shaking, hands reaching out to hold tightly onto him. Screaming his name as your insides convulsed. Rossi cooed and smiled, hips rutting as he finished. Coating your walls with white hot.

Both of you panting. Refusing to move. Loving the warmth of each other’s bodies. Sweat glistening on your skin.

Rossi’s hand came up and caressed your face. Dark eyes lingering in yours. Leaning down and planting a gentle kiss on your lips. Rosy cheeks and glistening eyes admiring one another.

“Do you want to stay tonight?” Your exhausted voice hummed against your lips.

“I was hoping you’d ask,” Rossi chuckled.

The two of you gently got up. Matured, tender hands helped you clean up. Taking your time as you wandered off to your bedroom. Snuggling together under your cold sheets.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed my first David Rossi story, I really appreciate the ask! My inbox is always open, if you want to be tagged in the future! //

{tags}

@jerk-bending ~ @heif ~ @cherriready ~

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Cherrywood

(2-2)

Short story # 19

Gif NOT mine.

Summary - After seeing the state of your orchard, Daemon makes you an offer he believes you cannot refuse. But when you decline his offer, he is left to wonder what it would take to make you agree. And if perhaps it would be easier to just take you away.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW

Reading time (roughly) - 17 minutes

"So sweetling, mind telling me where I am?" Daemon asked as he sat at the table within the cottage, happily accepting the morning meal (Y/n) placed before him. "Cherrywood orchard, my childhood home." She explained with a small smile, proud of her homestead. "That name sounds familiar." He mused in thought. "The cherrys from my orchard are often sent to the Castle in Kingslanding." She sat across from him, a small plate of food before her. "Ah yes Cherrywood orchard, the home of the best cherries in all of Westeros." Daemon hummed with a charming smile. "I wouldn't go that far." (Y/n) smiled faintly, trying to ignore the blush creeping up her neck from the Prince's intense gaze. "Oh but I would." He teased playfully, his attention snapping to the whimpers coming from another room. "Leo I nearly forgot about him!" (Y/n) hissed as she rushed across the cottage.

Daemon watched with amusement when (Y/n) opened the door leading to the whimpers, only for her to be barreled down to the floor by an excited sheepdog. "Leo calm down it's okay. Yes yes I know I know." She mused to the excited dog, as she got back up from the floor, dusting off her skirts. She intended on taking him outside, but hesitated when she suddenly remembered the crimson dragon, who lay just beyond the walls of her home. "M-my Prince... I well I." She stammered, trying to figure out how to put together her words, but failing measurably. "What is it sweetling?" He asked, rising from his seat, and approaching her. "Well... I need to go out and assess the orchard after the storm, and Leo always joins me in the orchard... But your dragon... I'm afraid of what he might do." She admitted, and Daemon smiled softly. "He will do you, nor your loyal pup, any harm. I will accompany you to ensure it." He offered her his arm, his well tailored clothes a stark contrast to her plan dress that she'd made two summers ago. "O-oh alright." She stammered again, not used to the attentions of a man, let alone one of such nobility.

Exiting the cottage, (Y/n) made sure Leo heeled behind her, so as to not tempt the mighty beast, who lay in wait. And when they stepped outside, Caraxes attention was drawn to them, seemingly contempt and as docile as before. Much to (Y/n)'s relief. "He's incredible, isn't he?" Daemon mused aloud, breaking away from (Y/n)'s side to approach his loyal dragon. "Yes... Albeit a bit terrifying." (Y/n) admitted, signaling for Leo to run off to the barn, where he could be with Zero and out of sight of the dragon. "You shouldn't be afraid, you have nothing to fear. He proved that last night when he allowed you to bring me here." The Prince said, placing his hands against the dragons muzzle affectionately. "Perhaps, but still he is like nothing I've ever faced before, and that frightens me." She again admitted to how she felt around the creature, yet still standing her ground and refusing to run away like her body begged her to.

"Come here, you should meet him properly." Daemon offered his hand to her, a warm and comfortable smile on his face, which eased her anxiety a little. "If he eats me, I'll never forgive you." (Y/n) stated as she stepped forward, her words drawing a laugh from the Rouge Prince. "I understand." He said with a grin, taking her hand once she was within reach, and pulling her to stand directly beside himself and Caraxes. "Don't worry, no harm will come to you." Daemon assured her, noticing the fear on her face. "Just relax." He added as he took her hand, and slowly moved it to rest against Caraxes snout. The dragon blew air from his nose at them, much like he had the night before. Only this time he was far more relaxed, knowing that his master was well again. "He likes you." Daemon whispered close to her ear, having stepped closer to her until his chest pressed against her back.

"What makes you so sure?" (Y/n) asked without thought. "He usually only ever does that to me." The Prince stated, moving her hand to rub gently across the dragons scales. "You hear that rumble?" He asked her in a hushed tone, the smile evident in his voice. "Yes." She whispered, entranced by the beast before her. "He's purring, like a great big cat." He said with amusement, making (Y/n) chuckle softly. "He really is the most incredible thing I've ever seen." She breathed out dreamily, her fears completely washed away, and replaced with pure awe. "He's even more incredible when he flies." Daemon mused, his lilac eyes turning to observe (Y/n) more closely. "I imagine so." She smiled, enraptured with the feel of Caraxes scaled beneath her hand. Suddenly the moment was broken by the loud caws of a flock of nearby crows, drawing (Y/n)'s attention back to her homestead.

"I really should see what damage the storm has done to my orchard." She stated, slowly pulling away from Caraxes and Daemon both. Her cheeks a flush of pink, only having just noticed how close the Prince had gotten to her. "Yes, of course." Daemon agreed, following her and commanding in valyrian for Caraxes to stay put. When they neared the orchard, the Rouge Prince noticed the way (Y/n)'s breathing had hitched. And when he noticed several of the cherry trees broken and destroyed, he understood her sudden change in mood. And wondered silently what this would mean for her. "Oh no." She breathed out in a soft whisper, picking up her shirts slightly before jogging further into the orchard. Daemon chased after her, intent on keeping her within his line of sight. "Gods be good, nearly half the orchard is destroyed!" (Y/n) said as silent tears rolled down her cheeks, Daemon pulled her into his embrace, trying to sooth her.

"It will be alright." The Rouge Prince said in a calm tone, his hands tightening around her waist, when she pulled back to look him in the face. "No it won't be alright. This is all I have, this is my entire livelihood. Without a full orchard I cannot provide the Red Keep with cherries, or the other settlements my produce is shipped off to." Her throat tightened as the realization of it all came crashing over her. Causing her to bury her face into Daemons chest, much to his satisfaction. "What can we do to fix this?" He asked as his hands rubbed soothingly at her back. "New trees will have to be planted in early spring next season, and it will take four to seven years before they will bare fruit that can be harvested." She hiccuped a little at the end. "Deals that have already been made with several settlements will have to be broken, and their coin returned to them. I can still provide the Royal Castle with Cherries, but as the years go by the orders get larger and larger for the Castle." She pulled away to look into his lilac eyes. She looked like that of a broken child, weeping for things that cannot be fixed.

"Why not leave this all behind? Come with me, forget about this life, and the struggles that come with it." He offered her with a charming smile, certain that she would take his offer in a heartbeat. "That is kind of you my Prince, but I cannot just abandon this place. It is my home. I was born here, and I will die here like my family has." She smiled through her tears, and Daemon had to force a kind smile, annoyed that she didn't simply take his offer. "What happened to your family?" He asked, intent on changing the subject for a brief time. "My mother died of a fever when I was barely a woman, and the following year my father was in a farming accident while helping an old family friend. He later died from an infection we could not battle. My elder brother was murdered a few years ago by a thief attempting to steal from our home. I held him in my arms as he bled out... I witnessed all of their deaths." She frowned deeply, remembering their faces in their last moments all to well.

"I buried each of them, below a great willow tree, where I hope to be buried one day. Once more reunited with them all." A few more tears escaped her glossy eyes, and Daemon wiped them away with his thumbs. "But who will bury you, if their is no one left?" He asked in a soft tone. "I'm afraid I do not know." She shook her head, her piercing eyes staring into his own. "Sweetling... This is no life for a beautiful woman such as yourself. You should be wrapped in fine silks, drinking wine, and not worrying or wanting for anything." He placed a gentle kiss against her forehead, hoping he could still charm her into accepting his offer. "I am merely a common woman, this is my destiny, and my place. I am not a noble woman, and I do not belong to a prominent house. And all I want is a warm hearth, dry shelter, and a meal in my stomach. It's all I can ask." She leaned into his touch as he held her face between his strong hands, hoping not to upset him by rejecting him for a second time. He gave her a tight lipped smile, trying desperately to keep his temper in check.

"You are a fine woman, and you deserve the world. I hope one day you will have that." He let go of her face, and took a small step back. Already brewing a plan within his depraved mind to get exactly what he wants. "Besides you said so yourself, my cherries are the best in Westeros. I cannot simply give that up because times are hard." She smiled sweetly. 'Fuck the cherries, you should be mine!' Daemon thought to himself, but only smiled kindly at her. "Well there is much work to be done, and I need to send word to the settlements about what has happened to my orchard." (Y/n) stated with a sad look upon her pretty face once more. "I will assist you." The Prince offered, seeing it as the perfect opportunity to coax her into being swayed by him. "Oh my Prince, you shouldn't bother yourself with such things." (Y/n) said in a soft tone, making him smile at her. "I insist, it's the least I can do, after all you saved my life." He said smoothly, smirking darkly when she ducked her head in embarrassment. "I suppose you're right." She mumbled as she nervously toyed with the cuff of her sleeve. "Just tell me what you need done, and I'll see it gets done." Daemon said in a charming way, pulling one of her hands up to place a small kiss against her knuckles, again smirking when she blushed deeply.

"V-very well... We'll need an axe from the barn, and Zero will have to be put into his harnesses and hooked to a wagon, to haul all of the wood back to the house." (Y/n) stated as she began walking towards the barn, with the Prince hot on her heels. For several hours they worked tirelessly, cleaning up the debris of the destroyed cherry trees. Daemon chopping the wood into smaller pieces with the axe, while (Y/n) hauled those pieces to the wagon and stacked them accordingly. Barely into the work, the Prince had decided it best to remove his leather tunic, and work in his loose white top. Which became wet from his sweat as he continued to work, the garment sticking to his broad back, and occasionally his chest. And often times (Y/n) found herself staring at him in such a state, mesmerized by how elegant he still looked in such a state. Much to Daemons pleasure, he would smirk and even wink whenever he caught her staring at him. Certain now that should he ask her again, she might be more inclined to accept his offer. When the wagon was full, (Y/n) made note of how much more wood needed to be cleared out. "We should take this load back, and then take a small break." She said to the Prince, trying not to stare when he turned her way.

"Alright." He smiled charmingly, before picking up the hem of his shirt to wipe way the sweat on his brow. (Y/n) audibly squeaked at the sight, averting her eyes quickly. Daemon chuckled softly at the sound, greatly amused by her shy nature. When he approached she grabbed Zeros reins and began leading him back to the barn, where the wood would be stacked and stored for the winter. It wasn't the best wood to burn now, as it was still green. But by winter it will have dried out, and would burn wonderfully on cold nights. "I cannot imagine you would have made so much progress on your own." The Prince mused as he walked beside her. "No I don't imagine I would have." She agreed with a small smile, shivering a little in a good way, when she felt the Prince place his hand against the small of her back. "It is a wonder you do not have a husband already." He said casually. "I do not get out much, my time is mostly spent here. And the men I have met are either already married, or have no interest in a woman such as myself." (Y/n) admitted. "They are fools not to be charmed by you." Daemon said. Making the young maiden blush deeply, like he had so many times in a single day.

"That is kind of you to say." She mumbled shyly, making him grin. After they'd unloaded the wagon, (Y/n) let Zero out into the pasture to graze and relax for a while. Then they went inside to rest themselves, and eat a small meal to keep up their energies. "You truly are a magnificent creature, it is no wonder Caraxes allowed you to help me." The Prince mused as he sipped the glass of cherry wine she'd offered him. "You are to kind." (Y/n) ducked her head, trying to focus on the food before her. A simple meal, one of salted meat, bread, cheese, and half an apple. The same before the Prince who seemed more occupied with watching her. "Did you make this wine?" He asked before taking another generous sip. "Yes I did, four summers ago. It has been aging since today. I hope it is to your liking." She said meekly, peering at him with curiosity. "The best wine I've had in some time." He praised. "Thank you my Prince." She beamed at him with a smile, clearly proud of her work, and proud she'd pleased him. "Is there anything you cannot do?" He asked playfully, and she thought for a moment. "I cannot play any instruments, never had the time to learn." She concluded, making Daemon chuckle.

"You are a wonder." He mused with a grin. "You give me to much credit." (Y/n) said with a warm glow about her. "And you cease to amaze me." He countered, with a wink. "I should go feed Zero and Leo." (Y/n) stated suddenly, clearly growing flustered by his praise and flirting. "I would like to join you." He said as he followed her. "You don't have to." She insisted, but he only smiled at her, following her outside. Once outside he couldn't help but grasp her arm, turning her attention back to him, hoping he'd charmed her enough to have swayed her mind. "Are you certain you would not rather live a relaxing life with me in the Red Keep?" He asked her in a soft voice. Though when her smile fell, he felt anger bubble in his chest. "I am sorry my Prince, but as I've said, my place is here." She offered him a sad smile, which was quickly replaced by fear, at the deep scowl that had overtaken his soft demeanor. "I have been noticing but kind to you, and yet you deny me?" He hissed, his anger becoming evident. "I will ask you one more time." His grip on her arm tightened painfully. "Come with me." Though it sounded more like a demand than a request. "N-no please let go of me!" (Y/n) stammered as she tried breaking away from him.

Caraxes stirred from his place, becoming alert as he watched the two. "That is the wrong answer." The Rouge Prince hissed, before striking (Y/n) so hard she fell unconscious. He caught her in his arms before she could fall to the ground, gently cradling her in his arms. "You are coming back with me, whether you like it or not." He muttered to her, as he brushed her hair out of her face. Afterwards he mounted Caraxes with her securely in his arms, taking flight but merely hovering over her homestead. "Dracarys." He ordered Caraxes, who set ablaze her home, what remained of the orchard, and even the barn. Leaving the dog and horse to fend for themselves in the pasture, before flying back to Kingslanding. The trip was short on dragonback, and once inside the dragonpit Daemon dismounted Caraxes, with (Y/n) still in his hold. Everyone he passed gave him questioning looks, but no one dare ask him who the woman was, and why she was here.

Hours later (Y/n) began to stir awake, groaning softly at the dull pain in her head. But as she nestled within the bed, she realized it was much different from her own. Plush and luxurious compared to her bed, the blankets feeling like fine silk and linen. When she cracked open her eyes, she observed a fine canopy above her, something her bed did not have. And suddenly everything came back to her, and she was filled with fear. Sitting up quickly she tried rushing out of the bed, only to be pulled back by her ankle, and falling to the cold stone floor. She had screamed momentarily, thinking someone had ahold of her, but she quickly realized it was in fact a metal cuff around her ankle, which was chained to the bedpost. Tears welled in her eyes as she realized that the Rouge Prince had kidnapped her, and taken her prisoner. Silently she pulled herself up, and curled up in a ball on the bed. Wishing that she had never met him, that she hadn't saved his life, and that she was back at home. As she sobbed quietly, she didn't notice the chamber door open and close as someone entered. Nor did she notice when they approached the bed. It wasn't until the bed dipped that she looked up, finding Prince Daemon smiling down at her. "You're awake!" He mused as he brushed her hair aside, and it took everything within her not to choke on the sobs escaping her throat. She tried to move away from him, only to be reminded of the wretched chain, when he pulled it harshly to get her back to his side. Oh how the gods have forsaken her.

Buy me a coffee sometime? ☕️

(Click the coffee for my Kofi link, IT'S NOT NECESSARY BTW.)

<- Part one

A nice dark twist for this story, and I hope you enjoyed it! I know I definitely did!

[bartywinter]

2am · @taylorswiftmicrofic · hair · @black-brothers-microfic · rosestarkiller · word count: 724 · cw: mention of addiction

When Evan returned to their flat after work at 2 am, he found Regulus lying on his stomach on their bed playing some silly game on his mobile phone while Barty tried to get his attention.

“Just let me finish the game,” Regulus complained, focused on his phone as if his life depended on the well-kept condition of his virtual farm and the little animals he looked after there.

When Barty managed to take the phone away from him, Regulus sighed and extended his hand in his direction.

“Give it to me.”

Barty tucked the phone down his trousers and grinned.

“Come and get it.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, but soon cast a smile not at Barty's words, but at the sight of Evan coming up behind him.

“Welcome home,” Regulus greeted him.

Before Barty could turn around, Evan wrapped both arms around his body and rested his chin on his shoulder.

“Hmm, are you two at it again?” He reached under Barty's trousers and pulled out Regulus' phone. He glanced at the screen. “You know, Regulus, I think you have an addiction problem.”

Regulus snorted. He looked the cutest with his messy curls and and one of Barty' t-shirts that was rather loose on him.

“Says, who?”

“Don't give it to him, Evan,” Barty said as he placed both hands on his and stroked them lovingly. “He's really getting on my fucking nerves with the bloody phone.”

Evan tossed the phone towards the couch beyond the bed. He didn't need to ask Regulus to know that was true.

“You're so dramatic,” Regulus groaned.

“Who'd I get it from?”

Evan cupped Barty's cheek gently as he turned his face towards him and pressed their lips into a short but sweet kiss.

‘’Clingy today, aren’t we?” he smirked against his lips.

Barty nodded his head.

“I can take care of that,” he kissed his lips one last time before sitting on the edge of the bed. “Since Regulus prefers his crappy game, it'll just be you and me tonight,” he added as he kicked off his boots, soaked by the puddles he had accidentally stepped in on the way home.

He heard Regulus mumble under his breath.

“Something to say?” Evan inquired.

Regulus raised his chin and folded his arms as he watched Evan remove his street clothes.

“No, do whatever you want, I don't care,” he muttered in annoyance and attempted to get out of bed, only for Barty to yank on his leg, causing him to fall onto his stomach back on the mattress. “Fucker!”

Barty's response was to bite him on the butt and Regulus whined just before rolling over and lunging at him in order to bite his cheek back. Barty chuckled and grabbed his face to lovingly kiss him, instantly feeling Regulus relax under his touch.

“You’re so stupid,” Regulus flashed him a tiny warm smile.

They never got seriously mad at each other because that was how their dynamic worked, both bickering over the silliest of things and making up through kisses and caresses filled with the greatest of affection.

“I know,” Barty grinned and left a peck on his lips.

Evan, who had changed into his home clothes —which consisted of an oversized t-shirt and a pair of worn-out sweatpants— lay down on the bed and sighed deeply. He was exhausted.

Both Regulus and Barty knew what Evan needed even when he wouldn't voice it out. Thus, Barty settled onto one arm of Evan's, hugging it tightly. Regulus rested his head on his chest and proceeded to draw random patterns there with his index fingertip absentmindedly. One of Evan's arms automatically travelled to Barty's dark hair and the other to Regulus' back, both of which he started to stroke in slow and tender motions.

Playing the middleman between wankers who wouldn't listen to reason was taking its toll on him. However, Evan hardly ever talked about work. When he was at home, he preferred to forget about it and instead devote all his attention to the two men who didn't hesitate to recharge his batteries and brighten his day whenever he came home feeling down. Barty was watching him adoringly and Regulus was offering him soft touches that warmed his heart.

Yeah, his job sucked, but Barty and Regulus were the joy of his life and that was all that mattered.

[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (8)

ー☆ Chapter 8: Own My Mind

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cursing ー☆ Word count: 8.3k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hello, lovelies! I'm back with a new chapter and let me tell you, ever since I've started writing this there's been little changes to the plot here and there, but...we should all thank Song Mingi for the way he's been acting this weekend for bringing a major change to it (i wanna kms ha-ha *dies in pain*) Anyways, I have a love-hate relationship with that man right now, don't mind my dramatic ass. Please listen to Maneskin's Own My Mind before or while reading this chapter, just the usual! If you want to be added to this story's taglist, just leave a comment on this post and you'll be added! Also, the drawing our girlie is talking about that is on her bed (later in this chp.), is absolutely waterbomb Mingi and it's a call-back to chp. 4 hehet. I have a surprise at the end of this chapter lol. One last question and then I'm going, should I do a Q&A surrounding this story? Like, if you have any curiosities about it, you can send in an ask and I'll gladly answer it! ^^ I hope you'll enjoy this part and, as always, let me know your thoughts about it!

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @sharksandminhos

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

            I shivered as I hurriedly shrugged off my jacket, backpack discarded the second I stepped inside my warm home, the loud thunder cut short as Mingi quickly closed the front door behind himself, hissing and groaning. I turned my head to watch him struggle out of his worn-out jacket as I stepped out of my shoes, hardly believing that from just a few minutes out in the rain, even my socks got soaked. Mingi’s head shook as his body trembled, and I couldn’t help but chuckle as I watched him. He looked quite hilarious with his black hair sticking to his forehead, glasses so wet he couldn’t see through them anymore, loose clothing now sticking to his lean body like a second skin.

“What’s so funny?” Mingi playfully furrowed his eyebrows as he took his specks off, shaking the water off the glass, as wiping it against his already wet clothes wouldn’t have helped him in ridding his glasses of water.

“You.” I mumbled with a chuckle as I peeled my cardigan off, skin covered in goosebumps as my damp skin was exposed to the chilly air in the hallway. Mingi rolled his eyes, and placed his glasses back on as I took off towards the wardrobe by the stairs, chewing on my bottom lip. Mingi would have to change out of his wet clothes, unless we wanted him to catch a cold. I couldn’t leave him standing there like that, shivering and sniffing as he already sneezed loudly. His apology was sheepish, but I just flashed him a small smile before opening the heavy door of the wardrobe. There were minimal chances that the box I was looking for was still inside the wardrobe, considering the fact that my mother would go on a cleaning frenzy every month and throw out almost everything inside the house that she deemed unusable anymore. Therefore, there were almost one to zero chances that the box I so vividly remember having placed here ages ago, was still in its spot.

“Uh, do you think I could use the bathroom real fast?” Mingi asked, voice sounding unsure as I kneeled down in front of the wardrobe, eyebrows furrowing when I didn’t spot the box right away.

“One second, let me find something.” I called out, leaning forward as I pushed my mother’s long coats hanging in my face out of the way, and disappeared further into the wardrobe as I pushed and pulled at the thick blankets she kept in there. I thought about giving up for a second, about her having thrown out the contents of the box I was searching for, but I gasped when I felt the sturdy cartoon underneath my fingertips. With a triumphant smile, I pulled on it, a few scarfs and my very old Hello Kitty beanie falling out in the process. The box felt heavier than I remembered it to be, and my heart settled knowing that my mother didn’t throw it out. But that didn’t mean it didn’t start beating wildly once I sat back on my heels, box placed in front of me. A chill ran down my spine, and I knew right now that it wasn’t because of the chilly air and my damp skin. Whatever still remained inside this box…is what I never had the strength to throw out, to fully get rid of every memory lingering of Yunho. I gulped, chewing on my bottom lip as I hesitated opening it up. But there was another loud sneeze, and as I briefly glanced at Mingi, I couldn’t help but notice the light red tinge on his cheeks as he typed away on his phone, completely soaked. I really had no other choice but to open up the box of pandora.

And a lump formed in my throat when I finally opened it, a stale scent hitting my nose. My eyebrows furrowed when a golden butterfly necklace sat on top of everything, a harsh reminder of all the gifts Yunho would buy for me during our relationship. I have thrown out all the gifts, except this one. It was expensive, and frankly, too beautiful to be thrown out or gifted to anyone else. Gulping, I pushed the necklace aside and sighed as I dug around the box, jaw clenching at the three sketchbooks getting in my way. They were filled with drawings of Yunho and myself, of all the places we’ve been to, of all the places I have wished to visit with Yunho. Of all the memories we have once made, and of all the memories I wished we could’ve made. Being an artist was amazing, but at certain times it was a nightmare in disguise, brain able to conjure such vivid images that never happened, that it could fool me into thinking that they have actually happened. I sighed quietly as I felt eyes on me, and finally found what I was searching for. A fuzzy and faded knitted sweater, a plethora of colors mixed together, from beige to a light purple, black and silver in the mix too. I pulled it out of the box, together with the grey sweatpants, and cleared my throat as I stood, hands burning the longer I held the clothing in my hands. I felt guilty, almost disgusting as I neared Mingi again, trying to avoid his eyes as he had an easy look on his face, smiling despite continuously sniffing.

“These are the only male clothing we have in the house,” I said as I reached my hands out, looking at Mingi’s chest rather than eyes, “hopefully they’ll fit you.”

“And if they won’t, you can always give me one of your colorful fuzzy cardigans.” Mingi’s tone was playful and I chuckled, giving him a playful glare. Those cardigans would never fit his broad shoulders. The tightness was gone from my chest as Mingi took the clothes from my grasp, a thankful look on his face. The guilt remained, but it wasn’t so pressing anymore.

“You can change in the bathroom downstairs,” I pointed towards the closed door across from the wardrobe, “towels are in the cabinet above the toilet. Do you need a hairdryer?”

Mingi shook his head with a smile and gave my soaked hair a light tap, “Thank you, Y/N.”

The way he seemed to linger on my name sent my heart into a dumb frenzy, and I found myself flustered beyond, emotion so foreign I forgot how to speak for a second. And Mingi didn’t miss it, fuck, because he walked away with a smug smile towards the bathroom and paused in the doorway for dramatic effect, before disappearing with a damn wink. I huffed, glaring daggers at the closed door as I scurried to shove everything fallen out back inside the wardrobe, closing its door rather harshly. I licked my chapped lips and raced up the stairs, throwing the door to my room open and taking a second to take in its state. My desk was messy, but that’s just how it always was, I couldn’t do much about it right now. I opened the blackout curtains, however, the weather already gloomy enough to cast shadows inside my dark room. I flinched as another thunder rumbled through the sky, and grabbed the first clothes I found in my closet, walking to the bathroom upstairs.

After having changed into wide legged leggings that had cotton on the inside, I quickly threw on a white tank top and a soft pink mock neck sweater, sighing in content as warmth finally enveloped my body after I have dried up the dampness on it with a towel. I skipped down the stairs as I had a towel around my head, messily towel drying my hair, completely missing the tall form standing at the foot of the stairs as I stumbled into him. I yelped, but Mingi quickly steadied me by the elbows. Before I had the chance to pull the towel off my head, two large hands grabbed at it and started softly rubbing the towel against my wet hair. I froze, everything inside me stopping as even my breath stilled, eyes wide open. Mingi said nothing as he continued with his actions, quietly humming to himself. I was afraid he’d be able to hear my loud heartbeat as I breathed through my mouth, lips parting as I struggled to calm down. I was thankful for the towel hiding my face, because I could feel the blush spreading down from my cheeks to my ears, and even neck. I couldn’t remember a time when I have blushed this hard, and it made me feel slightly disoriented. For God’s sake, Mingi was simply towel drying my hair for me, why was I having such a visceral reaction to it?! My mind seemed to be screaming at me, but I was too busy trying to regulate my breathing, doing so quietly, as Mingi’s hands became a little rougher, almost pulling on specific strands of hair. My eyes narrowed as he turned my head left to right to his likes, and I groaned as his fingers dug into my scalp.

“Hey, stop it!” I whined and slapped at his hand, making Mingi chuckle as he ruffled my hair to the point I had strands from the back falling into my eyes.

“Oh, good,” He was still chuckling, “for a second there I thought you had fallen asleep with how quiet you were.”

Despite not being able to see his face, or anything if I looked ahead, I could still peek down and see his feet. I was standing on the last step of the stairs, and with an evil grin, I jumped down, his naked toes falling victims to my attack. Mingi yelped loudly, and I cackled as I pulled the towel off my face, smiling at him smugly.

“Serves you right since my hair is all knotted up thanks to you.” I raised my eyebrows at him as Mingi had his right leg raised, massaging his toes with a pained expression.

“So you break my toes?!” He exclaimed, his deep tone a few octaves higher, making me snicker to myself as I threw the towel at him, making him yelp and look at me with an appalled expression on his face.

“Stop being a baby,” I stuck my tongue out at him as I walked towards the front door to lock it before I went inside the kitchen, “And wear some slippers before you come to the kitchen.”

Mingi was closely following behind me, ignoring my words, “What, one of your dwarf slippers? It’s either my toes or heels will be dangling off.”

The image was funny in my head, but I ignored it in order to throw him a scrutinizing look, “The tiles are cold in here, you’ll catch a cold.”

A wide smile spread on Mingi’s lips as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest, biceps bulging underneath the tight fabric of the sweater, “You’re so cute when you worry about me, doll.”

There goes the pleasant exchange we’ve been having up until now. My voice became devoid of any expression besides the glare I threw at him, mirroring him as I crossed my arms in front of my chest, “I’m not cute. I’m merely saying you’ll probably catch a cold since we’ve been out in the rain not even fifteen minutes ago. And since you’re a singer you should be taking a lot more care of yourself.”

Mingi remained silent for a few seconds, until I watched a light hue tinge his cheeks. Was he blushing because I was lecturing him? Just what in the hell?!

“You’re right, sorry.” Mingi mumbled, but showed no intentions of actually following through with my words as he walked further inside the room, sitting at the table, feet up on the chair as he hugged his long legs to his chest. For such a tall and broad man, he looked extremely tiny sitting on that chair right now.

“Uh,” A little confused by the turn of events, I looked around the kitchen, trying to remember the initial purpose of me coming here, “Right. You don’t like tea, so we have coffee or hot chocolate to warm us up, which one would you like?”

Mingi’s eyes lingered on me for a second too long, taking in my whole being before his eyes settled on my face again, a smile so genuine settling on his lips that his eyes were sparkling, “Hot chocolate is fine.”

I hummed, a little breathless, then turned to open the cabinet above the microwave to take out two tall mugs for the hot chocolate. For some reason, I didn’t mind Mingi’s eyes following my every move as I tinkered around in my kitchen, taking everything I needed in my hands to prepare them on the counter. The thought of having Mingi inside my home, sitting in my kitchen, wearing my ex’s clothes, acting like we’ve been friends since forever seemed to hit me at once as I froze for a second while pouring water inside the second mug, Mingi’s mug. And what was even more surprising was not finding any thoughts that suggested that this was wrong, that I shouldn’t be doing this, that Mingi didn’t belong inside my kitchen. I didn’t want to dwell more on why it all felt so right, so instead, I watched as the mugs whirled around in the microwave, locking these thoughts away for later…I knew they’d come back late at night to haunt me, it’s just how it always was.

Mingi clearing his throat gained my attention as I glanced back at him, and tried not to look too long. The way Yunho’s clothes perfectly fit Mingi’s form was alarming, albeit the sweatpants seemed to be slightly too long for Mingi. I’ve had Yunho’s clothes since highschool, which was a few good years ago, yet they still fit Mingi. It made me wonder if the two ever exchanged clothes or wore something matching, like best friends would do for fun. I know Yunho had once mentioned having matching rings with Mingi, but back then I was too jealous about their closeness to ask any further questions about any other matching items they had. And it was a little surprising just how well Mingi’s skin tone was complimented by the colors of Yunho’s old sweater, Mingi’s necklaces sitting on top of the knitted fabric. That sweater was one of my favorite’s while Yunho and I were dating, Yunho always seemed to be glowing when he wore it. At some point I had even forgotten that I still had it. Perhaps I should do something about the contents of that box, join my mother next month in her frenzy cleaning marathon and throw out its contents.

The microwave pinged and I took the two mugs out, realizing that Mingi and I had been staring at each other for at least a good minute, my cheeks flushed again. A soft chuckle was heard behind me, but I ignored it for my own sake. The silence didn’t last for longer as I opened the little packages containing the hot chocolate powder to pour into our cups, “This might sound crazy, but I swear I’ve seen this exact sweater on Yunho quite a few times.”

I froze, thankful that I had my back to Mingi as panic flashed over my face. Deep breaths, I had this. Mingi didn’t have to know, I could lie my way out of this. And so, I forced a small smile on my face as I faced him while walking to the fridge, “Really? Well, coincidence, maybe. It’s my cousin’s sweater, he forgot it here once, but as he lives overseas he never came to get it and my mother just placed it away for when he comes to visit us.”

I didn’t have one single male cousin. Let alone cousin’s that lived overseas.

“Oh,” Mingi mumbled as he picked at an undone string on the sleeve of Yunho’s sweater, “Yeah, that could be it, a coincidence, I mean. Besides, my memory is a little fuzzy, I might be wrong.”

I gulped away the guilt that suddenly bloomed in my chest and grabbed the whipped cream, raising it up, “Whipped cream for your hot chocolate?”

I grinned at Mingi as he slowly shook his head, “I drink it simple.”

“Really?” I asked surprised as I walked back to the mugs, “Not even with marshmallows?”

Mingi shook his head with a small smile and so I mixed his powder with the warm water, handing it to him. Mingi had a fond smile on his lips when he took it, his cold fingers lightly brushing against mine, making me blush like a stupid schoolgirl who has a crush. And I do not have a crush on anyone, let alone on Song Mingi. I swiftly turned around, hoping that Mingi didn’t notice me blushing as I quickly put whipped cream in my hot chocolate and stuck two marshmallows in it, putting everything away quickly. I turned to face him as I took a sip, leaning against the counter. Mingi sat in a cross-legged position on the chair as he had the mug in his hands, ring clad fingers wrapped around the warm ceramic. I couldn’t help myself as my eyes lingered on his painted nails, slowly trailing up to Mingi’s face. His black fluffy hair fell in his eyes, obscuring his sharp eyes slightly as they were devoid of the black eyeliner now, a few blemishes tainting his otherwise glowing skin around his jaw, glasses slipping low on his tall nose, and plump lips red and slightly wet from how much Mingi always licks his lips. The simplicity of his whole being has never looked more attractive than right now, and as Mingi opened his mouth to say something, I was startled by such alarming thoughts, and so I hurried out of the kitchen.

“Let’s go up to my room!” I called out, on the brink of crying from all these stupid emotions I was suddenly feeling, trying to calm my crazily beating heart. Who allowed my brain to think in such way of Song Mingi? When did I even start considering him attractive? He was annoying, obnoxiously loud, arrogant and irritating, there was absolutely nothing to like about him or find in him attractive. I had to get a grip of myself right now! Mingi’s footsteps were dull as he followed after me, probably surprised that I had waited for him at the top of the stairs, unknowing of the storm inside my head, matching the raging storm outside. Lightning flashed every two seconds, skies rumbling with thunder, shaking even the ground at times. I hated storms, but suddenly it wasn’t as unbearable as before. When Mingi stood next to me, I lead us towards my room and pushed the door open, leaving it like that as Mingi walked in once I stepped aside for him, allowing him inside my safe space.

I have never been consciously proud or embarrassed of what my room looked like, the thought of what others thought of it absent up until right now. As Mingi walked further inside, head turning each and every way, taking everything in, suddenly I realized I was scared of what he would think. My walls were painted a light grey, on purpose, and there was little to no space left bare except for the wall on which the window was. My bed was pushed up against the wall to your left just as you walked inside, sketches that I have done throughout the years plastered up and put on display, my very first drawing even making it up on my wall. It was my little personal museum, a way of reminding myself of where I started out and how much I have evolved ever since, and even how much I was still changing as I was experimenting with my styles, learning a new technique in the class of Mr. Yoon. The desk across from my bed was messy, like I have said, it was littered with everything I needed to have at hand. Pencil holders filled to the brim, at least five of them, then there were brushes and little paint tubes littered all over it, notebooks and discarded sketches sitting underneath it, with my laptop hanging just a little dangerously off, not having paid much attention where I have put it this morning. A plain canvas was spread out on the little free space I still had, a project I had planned on starting today, now postponed for tomorrow. The wall above my desk had three modest shelves filled to the brim with books and some vinyl’s I have started collecting not long ago, pots and plants hanging off from the sides. The wall around the shelves was decorated by posters and pictures of my favorite bands, a few of my favorite paintings mixing in with them. The little stand next to my desk had my vinyl player, plants underneath it and around it, little ones. And then in the corner there was an old guitar that once had belonged to my mother, who has had a phase back in highschool and dreams of becoming a band member, famous and rich. She didn’t have the heart to gift the guitar to anyone, so she’s always kept it and passed it on to me once I was old enough. I never had an affinity for playing any instruments, but I do enjoy good music. A mix of old and new artists making it in that mix, actually—perhaps Noir Zenith slowly becoming one of them too, but Mingi didn’t have to know that. My closet was to the right just as you walked in, and it was of dark and sturdy wood, expanding from the ceiling to the floor. I had a little mirror right on its right side, the wall above and behind it, going right behind the door even, littered with my favorite painter’s paintings. Of course, they were only prints made at the local copy shop, but that didn’t matter. Fairy lights hung above my bed and from the lamp on the ceiling. The two nightstands on either side of my bed were more organized than one would expect from me, little makeup buckets placed on the one closest to the window, charger cable and some headphones sitting on the dark wood. The one nearest to the door had pictures of myself and my mom, and of Seulgi and I on display with a little clock, its drawer so filled with notebooks that I couldn’t quite close it. Thankfully the drawers of my desk weren’t so filled, I had just rearranged them last week, one evening when I was too restless to sleep.

Mingi was quiet as his mouth was slightly open, eyes wide as he took everything in, eyes falling onto my bed. I followed his sight and was mortified to find my biggest sketchbook open and displaying a quite realistic sketch of Mingi performing on stage. It was from the night I had a breakdown and Mingi found me in that diner. Seulgi had sent me some pictures she had taken of Wooyoung and accidentally slipped in one with Mingi too, and because the image just wouldn’t leave my mind, I knew I had no choice but to draw it. I dived for the sketchbook as if my life depended on it, all of it happening so fast I hoped Mingi didn’t actually catch what the drawing—or better said, who—the drawing was of. I shut it closed and pushed it off the bed, the light thud loud in the silent room. When I turned to look at Mingi, ready to face his smug face and taunting words, I was surprised to find his attention on something completely different. Of course, I should’ve expected from a man who plays in a band to be enamored by the vintage guitar in my possession. Its body was a light blue and had cherry blossoms painted over it, something my mother admitted to doing so, which lead to an argument with her father back in the days when he had seen the “damage” my mother had done to the pricey guitar.

“Is that a Martin D-19?” Mingi gushed as he walked toward the guitar, mouth hanging open. My eyebrows raised at his knowledge about it upon one glance. To me, it looked like a regular acoustic guitar. But then again, I should’ve expected it from a music major and a guy who has a literal band and plays the bass.

“Yeah, it was my mother’s.” I answered as I set my mug on the nightstand and sat at the edge of my bed, watching the awed expression on Mingi’s face. He had placed his mug by the foot of my desk as he crouched down, admiring the guitar from up-close.

“It’s absolutely beautiful.” Mingi whispered, fingers carefully tracing its body. Not even at gun point would I have admitted my next thought, which was of just how beautiful Mingi looked in this exact moment. Lightning flashed and the ground shook with the intense thunder, making Mingi tense for a second before he turned back to face me with the prettiest smile I have ever seen on someone.

“Your mother knows how to play it?” He asked, sounding enthusiastic. I was breathless, but after a big gulp, I forced my brain to function.

“Yeah,” I answered with a small smile, “she was a big rock lover back in the days, even wanted to start her own band. But due to her parents negative reactions to it, she unfortunately had to give up on that dream and do something more ‘real’.”

I rolled my eyes at the end of my sentence, not very fond of my grandparents. They weren’t bad people, but they also treated my mother harshly, and even myself, always asking about my future plans and straight up crying when I told them I wanted to become a painter. I saw the way Mingi’s face hardened for a second, but I knew he didn’t want to talk about it as he became expressionless quickly after. I was curious what made his mood become sour so quickly, if he perhaps related to what I have said in some way, but I wouldn’t prod. If he wants to tell me, he will sometime. So, instead, as a distraction, I scooched up further on my bed and patted the mattress next to me with a lazy smile, watching Mingi’s eyes slightly widen. He looked a little shy as he grabbed his mug and rose up to his full height, steps almost hesitant as he approached the bed, making me snort. It made Mingi narrow his eyes as I crossed my legs underneath myself as he kneeled on the bed and then settled beside me, long legs extended as he playfully wiggled his feet left and right. I chuckled as I clasped my hands together, letting them rest in my lap as Mingi took a sip of his hot chocolate. The silence was comfortable between us, the harsh rain hitting the windows loudly, wind rocking trees harshly, and the lightning and rumble a constant background noise.

“Last time when we performed at Outlaw, when you didn’t come,” Mingi paused and turned his head to look at me, “you know, when we met at the diner—”

“Let’s not talk about that.” I muttered with a grimace and Mingi hummed, licking his lips.

“Right, so, that night,” His voice was quiet, lips pulling into an abashed smile, “the crowd was bigger than usual, at first I blamed it on being a rowdier night, but it turned out those people were there to see us, Noir Zenith, to see me.”

I felt a small smile appear on my own lips, Mingi looking pleased with himself despite the light pink tinge of his cheeks, “And now Hongjoong might help us sign with a record deal, I feel like everything is finally coming together. Like my hard work is finally being rewarded.”

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from smiling too wide, subconsciously reaching out to hold Mingi’s arm as he looked me in the eyes, “That’s so good, Mingi! You deserve all the praise and attention your band gets, you’re really good.”

“You really think so?” Mingi sounded small, eyes wide in wonder as he flushed more. I knew I have said some things that weren’t the nicest, and now it made me realize that Mingi never deserved hearing those things from me. Yeah, I didn’t like the guy much at the beginning—not that now I like him more—but I still shouldn’t have shit on his music, on something he pours his whole soul and heart into.

“I really do, Mingi.” I slightly squeezed his arm, hoping that he could hear the sincerity in my voice as a wide and bright smile spread onto Mingi’s plush lips, so contagious that I found myself with a matching smile on my own lips. I chuckled, for some reason not wanting to release his arm just yet, the knitted sweater soft and warm under my touch.

“Lovely seeing you slowly turn into my number one fan, doll.” Of course, trust Mingi to ruin the moment. My eyes narrowed as I sighed loudly, slowly shaking my head. Mingi chuckled before taking a large gulp of his not so hot anymore chocolate, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Now, don’t get cocky.” I rolled my eyes, pulling my hand off his arm, watching as his eyes lingered where I have touched him, “I can recognize good work without becoming your fan.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Mingi mused playfully and I scoffed, bumping my shoulder into his before I went to retrieve my laptop from my desk, “Seonghwa and Wooyoung want us to try out new genres.”

“Really?” I asked surprised as I settled back in my previous spot, knee brushing against Mingi’s thigh, “Like what?”

“Well, nothing specific, just something little softer.” Mingi pursed his lips, fiddling with the mug in his hands, “Maybe something more indie rock.”

“I love indie rock,” I muttered absentmindedly as I powered on my laptop, “and why are you reluctant?”

Mingi seemed surprised that I had caught on, but it was quite obvious in his tone that he didn’t sound very enthusiastic about it, “Because my voice is rough and raw, unlike Seonghwa’s who’s smooth and almost angelic, and Wooyoung’s who’s can reach pitches I can only dream of and has a roughness that is absolutely soft at the same time, alluring.”

“Your voice is deep and powerful, it conveys every single emotion you’re feeling when you sing, Mingi. Your raspy tone alone tells a story, even without speaking the same language I would understand what you’re singing about. But just because it’s rougher and more powerful compared to Seonghwa and Wooyoung’s doesn’t mean it’s not beautiful and enchanting, Mingi.” Occupied with typing in the password to my laptop, I failed to notice the way Mingi’s breaths became shallow, the way his eyes bore into the side of my skull, “I think your voice is unique and desirable, you should be proud of it and not look down on yourself because of it. Many wish to have what you have, so really, don’t think any less of yourself because you think Seonghwa and Wooyoung are somehow better and more alluring. It’s not true, each one of you has their charm and well…I think you’re the most charming out of the three of you.”

I didn’t expect the expression on Mingi’s face when I turned my head to look at him. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were glazed over as his sharp eyes watched me intently, his breaths loud as his cheeks were red. My eyebrows furrowed, and for a second I worried I have made him angry, but the longer I looked, I realized the look in his eyes had nothing to do with anger. I gulped and averted my eyes, suddenly feeling my heart race again, biting my lower lip and trying to ignore the overbearing proximity between us. It was only our knee and thigh touching, yet it felt like Mingi was all over me, his scent still strong despite having changed out of his clothes and getting soaked by the rain. He always had a sharp scent surround him; it reminded me of pine trees.

“Thank you.” At last, Mingi found his voice and it was lower than before, goosebumps covered my skin as the low baritone of it traveled through my body. I nodded once in acknowledgement, not trusting my voice as I went on the internet to search for some movies to watch and pass the time while we wait for the storm to pass. If it passes, “Do you think rapping would fit my tone?”

It was an unexpected question, but as I mulled over it, I concluded that Mingi had the perfect timbre to both sing and rap, “Yeah, I think it would.”

I dared to take a peek at Mingi from the corner of my eyes, and was relieved to find the intensity gone from his face, instead, a soft smile grazed his lips as he finished his hot chocolate. He leaned back and placed his empty mug next to mine on the nightstand and fished his phone out of his pocket, “I found some old videos of me at school plays, let’s see what my music genius bestie thinks of them.”

I rolled my eyes, but nevertheless peered over Mingi’s shoulder in curiosity, “Don’t make fun of me, I’m merely stating something that someone with not musically trained ears hear. You should be more thankful.”

“I’m more than thankful, Y/N.” Mingi suddenly turned his head, our faces too close for comfort, so I quickly leaned back as he placed his arm on my thigh and pressed play on a video he pulled up from his gallery.

『Do you wanna, do you wanna own my mind, own my mind?

Do you wanna, do you wanna own my mind, own my mind?

Do you wanna know what the good, good, bad things all feel like?

Do you wanna, do you wanna own my mind, own my mind?』

            The movie of my choice was simple, The Quiet Ones. Nothing better than something a little spooky while there’s a wild storm raging outside, but to my utter surprise, Mingi looked terrified after only ten minutes of watching it. We were both leaning against the headboard of my bed, pillows behind our backs, and laptop placed between our lower bodies as our legs were stretched out. And despite the laptop being between us, Mingi’s shoulder pressed against mine not even five minutes after settling in our current spots. Trying to watch the horror movie, which was one of my favorite movie’s, turned out to be a fail, and I had no choice but to give in to Mingi as he only stopped whining when he got what he wanted. And that was watching a rom-com from the nineties, called 10 Things I Hate About You. I’ve seen it numerous times already, but it never gets old. There is something about the way the actors play their parts, and the plot too, that have me coming back to it with the same enthusiasm I had for it when watching it for the first time. At first, I thought Mingi hadn’t seen it and had only went along with my suggestion because he didn’t know what else to watch, but when he started quoting Patrick’s lines as if he were the character himself, I narrowed my eyes at him and poked his arm. After some painful jabs, he admitted that it was his favorite movie and he regularly rewatched it, especially if he was in a bad mood. That was a piece of information I wasn’t expecting from someone like Mingi. He looked like a guy who enjoyed tough and brutal movies, with the occasional romance movies if a pretty girl begged him to watch it together. Turns out, Mingi’s favorite genre is romance, and he hates horror, and depends on the type of thriller whether he likes it or not.

We found ourselves joking and laughing throughout the movie, making our own commentary about it after our first disagreement. Which was about whether Patrick accepting the money to charm Kat was right or wrong. Of course, it was very wrong to play with someone’s feelings and get paid for it too, but Mingi argued that if he never accepted it, then him and Kat would’ve never gotten together. And for that, I threw in the hypothetical scenario of him accepting money from Wooyoung so that he could take me out on a date and make me fall in love with him if that meant Wooyoung could have Seulgi date him. Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed and he declined such scenario, exactly proving my point why this was so wrong then, but he remained believing that for Kat and Patrick it totally worked out. And then he had the audacity to compare my stubbornness to Kat’s, making me call him just as stupid as Patrick was.

Time flew by as our laughter got louder, completely missing the way the rain had started to quiet down as we were immersed in the movie we were watching. It felt like a bubble was wrapped around us, isolating us from the cold world, and letting us enjoy ourselves without being so cautious of what we were saying. It felt nice. I couldn’t remember a time when I was able to let loose with someone other than Seulgi. It was a nice feeling, it made me excited in some way, completely making me forget that I was doing this with Mingi. He made it too easy to forget my worries and made me feel really comfortable all of a sudden, never stepping out of line—if we ignore his stupid flirting—and always keeping everything lighthearted. It was a nice change for once.

I groaned as I let my head fall back, lips pursed as my ass had gone numb from sitting so much in one place. Mingi snickered as Kat reversed into Joey’s car, clearly amused by the snarky remarks exchanged between the two characters. He was clearly into the witty exchanges, especially between Patrick and Kat, even having said that it makes Kat attractive how quickly and well she can shut Patrick down. I had told him that she wouldn’t have to do that if Patrick wasn’t so stupid most of the time, making Mingi roll his eyes at me, and say that I simply didn’t appreciate some good banter. Which wasn’t even true, I liked bantering if it had a smart purpose, not just to rile each other up, what was the point of that?

I licked my lips as my head lulled to the right, eyes falling on Mingi’s profile as he had his legs up, leaning forward as he hugged them around his knees with one arm. He was smiling and chuckling, pretty red lips pulled to the side, showing off his white teeth. His brows were dark, and his browbone being more prominent really sharpened his face in a very aesthetically pleasing way. Mingi’s face was very beautiful, and as an artist, I couldn’t help but admire it, and recognize it. So many pretty portraits of his face could be made, pity he doesn’t model. My lips pulled into a tiny smile at the thought of him modelling for me when we had to sketch human forms for our next class. I’m sure my professor would appreciate my drawings even more. Mingi’s glasses were discarded, and my eyes paused on his long nose, biting my lower lip just as Mingi chuckled again, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. He sniffed before rubbing two fingers against his plump lips, wetting them not even a second later. I gulped as I suddenly wondered what they would taste like. It was such a startling thought that I jumped, but Mingi suddenly looking at me certainly scared me more. I gulped, instantly blushing as a friendly smile painted Mingi’s lips as he leaned back, placing his head on the pillow, and letting it roll to the left. Our gazes connected, and I wasn’t surprised to find my heart beating so quickly once again, my lips pulling into a straight line as I struggled to keep my breathing even. Mingi’s easy smile didn’t disappear as his eyes racked over my face, it only became wider.

There was a whole galaxy behind those beautiful deep brown eyes of his, they sparkled with life and an excitement I haven’t seen in anyone before. I wished that I could recreate that in my drawings, but I wasn’t good enough to give simple eyes such deep emotions yet. And I really wished I was able to do so, because the longer I stared into Mingi’s eyes, the more lost I got in them, thoughts and worries disappearing into nothingness. Mingi’s hand twitched for a second and I tensed when I felt a finger gently poking my cold hand. I gulped, but I wasn’t able to look away as ever so softly more fingers brushed against my skin like feather, Mingi’s bottom lip between his teeth. His actions were slow and cautious, probably afraid that I would pull away, but I was too captured by his alluring gaze to even think to move away from him. Slowly, his longer fingers intertwined with mine and his rings cut into my skin when I squeezed his hand, uncaring that it hurt a bit. I knew my cheeks were now surely very red, but I couldn’t actually be bothered to feel embarrassed, not when Mingi’s cheeks were dusted pink as well. His high cheekbones were flushed the pretties color they could have been, and I smiled as Mingi blinked, looking abashed. Somehow no words had to be exchanged between us, everything felt comfortable, scarily familiar. I haven’t felt like this…since my ex. And not even with him have I felt so safe and understood, it always seemed like there was some invisible barrier between us, and I never understood why. With Mingi, if I allowed myself to feel and be unafraid, no barrier lay between the two of us.

I gulped, eyes suddenly falling on Mingi’s lips as his tongue poked out just slightly to wet them, his plump lips red and full. I’ve never seen a person have such full lips, and it made me wonder if they were as soft as one would imagine them be. Aware that my eyes were glued to Mingi’s lips, I looked back up in his eyes, trying to ignore how insanely attractive his mole right underneath it made him look. There was something about Mingi’s bareface that was so charming and beautiful that it almost made me feel jealous of it. Mingi sniffed quietly, and his bottom lip was between his teeth again as his eyes fell to my lips, my rapid heartbeat halting for a second. Could he be having similar thoughts to mine? I wouldn’t know, but when Mingi’s eyes found mine again, they were just slightly more intense and sharper. Like he was determined and nothing could stop him. I gulped loudly as he moved his head, just lightly, but it was closer than before. My heart was beating like crazy, but almost as if I was under a spell, I found myself shifting my head just a little bit closer. Mingi’s eyes no longer were on mine, and as my lips parted when I licked them, I felt Mingi’s hand squeeze mine just a little bit more. I gulped as I proceeded to lean even closer, my eyes fixated on Mingi’s lips now too, just wondering and wondering infinitely if they were warm, soft, wet, and what they would taste like. I didn’t startle nor flinch when Mingi angled his body so that he could lean dangerously close, the bridge of his nose brushing against mine. His hot breath mingled with mine as our lips were parted, a pull so magnetic I couldn’t untangle myself from it even if I tried to. My eyes threatened to flutter closed as I pressed my nose against his, the side of our lips rubbing just a little together as I couldn’t breathe regularly anymore. Mingi’s lips pressed ever so slightly against the corner of mine, feather like, and it suddenly wasn’t enough. The distance, it was too big—even if it didn’t even exist between us anymore—and I squeezed his hand as I angled my head to finally press our lips together, Mingi’s breaths audible due to our proximity.

But suddenly, a door was slammed shut loudly, “Sweetheart, I made it home finally! I saw a car parked in front of our house, all’s good?!”

The curious and shrill voice of my mother sent Mingi and I flying away from each other, both of our eyes wide as I was panting, my whole body burning. I couldn’t look at Mingi as I scrambled to press pause on the movie and Mingi was off the bed in a flash, sprinting towards my window. I could still feel his hot puffs against my face, and I gulped as I forced myself to forget everything I felt just seconds ago.

“The rain stopped,” Mingi’s voice was hoarse, so gravely that I had to clench my fists to stop myself from doing something I would regret, “I will be going.”

“I’ll go downstairs, let my mom know you’re here.” My voice wasn’t better off, I sounded breathless. I felt lightheaded as I got off the bed, standing and pausing for a second.

“Right, I’ll change back into my clothes and then—”

“No,” I didn’t mean to sound desperate as Mingi’s eyes fell on me, I had to look away in embarrassment, “keep them, they are of no use to me.”

“Right.” Mingi cleared his throat and I quickly walked past him, thankful that he stepped aside, and hurried out of my room and down the stairs. I took a deep breath to compose myself as I heard my mother placing down plastic bags in the kitchen. I needed to behave like everything was fine, when nothing was fine anymore.

“Hi!” My greeting was high pitched and way too cheery, my mother’s eyes narrowed when she saw me standing in the doorway, “Glad you made it home, the storm was awful.”

“It really was.” My mom grimaced as she continued unpacking the groceries, “You got home alright?”

“Yeah, uhm, actually,” I gulped and bit my lower lip as I heard Mingi coming down the stairs, “a friend from university drove me home as it was already raining, and he, uhm, stayed over. Because the rain was so bad he wouldn’t have been able to drive home. You know, safety measures and all.”

My mother paused and looked up at me with both of her eyebrows raised, “He?”

And on cue, Mingi appeared next to me, glasses pushed up on his nose adequately for once and hair not as messy as before, “Hello, my name is Song Mingi.”

“Nice to meet you, dear.” My mother’s eyes were glinting, looking way too happy for someone who was just introducing themselves. I was afraid of what would come, so, I grabbed Mingi’s arm and guided him towards the coat hanger.

“Mingi’s leaving, mom.” I said as I let go of his arm, averting my eyes as he wore his shoes and pulled on his jacket.

“Already?” My mom asked with a pout, coming to stand in the doorway, “Don’t you want to stay for dinner, dear?”

Mingi froze, eyes first finding mine before he looked at my mother with a polite smile, “Don’t worry, Mrs—”

“Oh, don’t be all formal with me, I hate that shit.” My mother chuckled and winked at him, “Call me Boyoung.”

Mingi gulped, seemingly taken aback by my mother’s behavior. I couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, knowing how surprising the contrast between my mother’s personality and mine was. Sadly, I haven’t taken after her when it comes to my attitude, but that’s fine.

“Well, Boyoung, thank you for your offer, but my friends and I actually agreed on dining out tonight.” Mingi’s excuse sounded real, so I knew he wasn’t lying. I gulped when my mother threw me a very slick glare, almost saying that this was my fault. I rolled my eyes, offended by her assumption.

“That’s a pity, dear,” My mother pouted, but soon a bright smile appeared on her lips, “But you are invited for whenever you feel like having dinner with us, right, my starlight?”

I tried not to glare at my mother for the outrageous nickname, especially when I saw Mingi’s lips twitch in amusement. I told her not to call me that in front of others so many times, “Right, mom.”

My mother chuckled, all too aware of my dislike for the nickname, before her eyes landed on Mingi again. There was a brief pause, one too awkward for my liking, and then Mingi was clearing his throat and opening the front door.

“Uh,” He made eye contact with me briefly, “talk to you later.”

“Wait,” My mother’s eyebrows furrowed as Mingi stepped outside, trying to adjust the strap of his backpack, “Aren’t those Yun—”

“Talk to you later!” I loudly said, making sure to send my mother a very alarmed look as Mingi froze for a second before he hummed quietly and took off towards his car.

The air was chilly and humid due to the harsh rain, and as I closed the front door, I knew I had a lot of questions to answer when my eyes fell on my mother’s amused face.

❱❱ Next chapter

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lol, this is the surprise I mentioned...I saw this post and it would just not leave my mind, besides, I think it's very fitting for our plot, no?

[kishibe-kisser]

Car Sex (Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Nanami Kento, Mahito) pt. 1

Pt.2 (Aoi Todo, Sukuna, Toji Fushiguro)

A special request from a friend for funsies, part 2 will have Todo, Sukuna and Toji

Tags: gojo x gn!reader, dryhumping, teasing, dirty talk, geto x gn!reader, blowjobs, kissing, nanami x afab! reader (i had an idea for so this is the only one not gn!reader) breeding kink, hair pulling, Mahito x gn!reader

Satoru Gojo: It was rare that he drove himself places but for you he definitely made the exception. Before dating you, he hardly ever had a reason to drive because he only left the school to take care of curses. Since dating you, he loved driving. He loved glancing at you sitting next to him, knowing you were unaware of him staring at you through his sunglasses.

Like now, he was watching you shift in your seat next to him. Your hand resting on his on the center console, thumb drawing shapes over his skin. You looked so good, it was driving him crazy before you entered the car and your soft touches were only adding fuel to the fire. His pants were suddenly so fucking tight around his cock, his other hand gripping the steering wheel. You continued to play with his hand, knowing full and well what you were doing.

Grabbing his hand, you moved it from the center console to your thigh, leaving it there as you reached over to massage the back of his neck. "That's it." Satoru grumbled, pulling the car over into a nearly empty parking lot. This was exactly what you wanted, smiling to yourself as he parked and reclined his seat in the same breath.

"What's gotten into you?" You teased, turning your body to him and looking at his very evident bulge. "Oh don't act like that." He grumbled, grabbing your hand and placing it right on his hard on. You found yourself laughing, moving to climb over the center console and straddling his waist. He instantly gripped your hips, pulling your full weight onto him. "You know exactly what you were doing." Satoru added, feeling your breath fan over his lips.

You smiled before kissing him, grinding your hips down to feel him groan against your lips. You continued your actions, fingers tugging at his hair as you created some well needed friction.

"You better start taking your clothes off, this dick isn't gonna ride itself."

Suguru Geto: It wasn't an ideal situation but it was the one you were dealt. Your car had broken down on the side of the road and the pickup service wouldn't be able to come until morning, leaving you and Suguru to wait it out. If anything, Geto was resourceful, laying down the backseat and making a makeshift bed from your bags and a spare blanket placed in the car.

He was just happy this happened while he was with you, glad he was there to stay the night with you for protection. He was going to see this as bonding time, especially as you tucked your head under his chin. Your hand resting on his hip as you cuddled into him for warmth. "This is surprisingly comfortable." You said and felt his chest vibrate with a laugh. "Because you're using me as a pillow. Meanwhile I'm laying on something really hard." He said and you sat up, your hand still on his hip.

"Hmm, I see." You moved your hand under his shirt, massaging the skin to hear a low hum come from him. "You want me to make it up to you? Call it payment for letting me use you as a pillow." Your hand snuck down lower, under the waist band of his pants. Suguru sighed, placing his hands behind his head and watching you. "Seems like the right thing to do." He agreed and you grinned, undoing the closure of his pants to tug them down slightly.

Leaning down, you kissed down his abdomen, running your tongue along the soft ridges. Suguru hummed, watching you through hooded eyes as you got closer and closer to his semi-hard cock. "Fuck that feels good." He moaned as your tongue traced his tip. You wrapped your lips around him fully, your tongue swirling over him as you bobbed up and down.

His hand moved down, helping you hold his shirt up and press your head down on him further. He had to stop himself from shoving his cock all the way down your throat, being on the verge of cumming.

"You're doing a great job at making it up to me."

Nanami Kento: On his days off, Nanami loved nothing more than going for a drive with you. It was something he saw you doing as a family later on, going on roadtrips while music played softly in the background. While you were on long drives that was what he tended to think about, seeing you next to him in the car.

It was driving him nuts this time around, hearing you sing along to the rock music fom his playlist, imagining you doing that with your kids together. "I want to go on roadtrips with our kids." He leaned over to you and said lowly as he was stopped at a light. "Hmm we don't have kids yet." You said in response, kissing him quickly because you noticed the light turning green. "That can be fixed." He said softly, catching you off guard and pulling into an empty street. Nanami always had such good resolve, he must have been going insane for him to do this.

"Get in the backseat." He grumbled getting out of the car, undoing his tie and taking off his jacket. You watched for a moment, biting your lip before scrambling into the backseat. You loved it when he lost it like this. You hiked up your skirt while Nanami got into the backseat behind you. He grabbed your hair from behind, while the other hand tugged your panties to the side.

Before doing anything else, he pulled your head back a little further to kiss you first. "You want this just as bad as me." He mumbled against your lips, finger tips dipping into your cunt and feeling how wet you were. You hummed in response, arching your back and pressing your ass against his crotch.

Nanami pulled his cock out of his pants, not caring about the mess you two were going to make. His grip on your hair tightened as slipped himself into you, letting out quite possibly the best noise you had ever heard as he bottomed out.

"Only you can drive me crazy enough to fuck you in the car."

Mahito: The concept of driving wasn't entirely foreign to Mahito, he just wasn't capable of doing it and well, you most certainly weren't going to let him drive you places. Which left all the driving over to you and it absolutely fascinated him. There was something incredibly attractive about you driving, so much so he was practically begging you to pull over.

"Baby you just look so hot driving." Mahito's hands were on your thighs, pawing at the flesh as you drove. You tried your best to ignore it, only for him to cup your crotch directly. You nearly slammed on the brakes, pulling his hand away from you as he laughed. "I'll pull over just so you don't end up killing us." You complied, anticipating him just as much as he wanted you.

The second the car was parked Mahito had pulled you into the backseat, your pants ripped off and thrown somewhere. He was always hungry for the way you tasted, this time was no different as spread your legs. "You're always just as hungry for me as I am for you." He remarked, licking at your core and looking at you with dark eyes.

Your nails scratched at the leather interior as he continued to flex his tongue over you, morphing it to reach every inch of you. It was so overwhelming, orgasm tearing from you with a hoarse scream as you tugged on the seatbelt. Mahito didn't like stopping though, he always liked to push you to your limits and the fact that you were in the car wasn't going to stop that.

"I'm not gonna be able to drive if you keep going. I already can barely feel my legs." You choked out and Mahito just smiled up at you, not caring.

"Then we'll wait. I want you cumming on my tongue a few more times before I'm done with you."

[marleyybluu]

Scream

Spooky Diaz x f!reader

Word count: 821

Content Warning(s): 18+, smut out the ass, mask kinks, p in v, little bit of porn, little bit of plot, Spooky's big fucking arms, I picture spooky hella tatted, the reader is not race-coded, reader speaks and understands Spanish, no one is pulling out (I seriously have a problem), backshots anyone? mirror sex anyone?, I'm toasted rn so sorry for the mistakes, lmk if i missed any or if i forgot to tag you

A/N: if yall know me well enough, you know what kind of state of mind I'm in 🍃and I just thought I'd write a little quickie since Halloween is next week and I don't think I've ever written anything in regard to Halloween so here we are.

(not mine, got it off Pinterest. i could koala cuddle those arms fuuuuck)

It started off as a joke. You'd become influenced by the amount of Ghost face masks you'd seen on TikTok, girls buying their boyfriends the infamous Ghost face mask so that they could put it on and pretend to be the killer from the movie, a few even accessorized with a fake knife and the women always seemed to get off on the idea. It was weird to you, at first, but then you became curious about what he would look like with the mask on. Maybe you'd open up a new kink for yourself, or maybe not but it was worth a try. 

So you went to Spirit Halloween and travelled over to the mask section where only two of the Scream masks were hanging. It seemed like you weren't the only inquisitive one. You bought some other things to decorate the porch with and headed back home. You called out to your boyfriend saying you needed a favour. He sprints into the living room where he sees your hands behind your back and that smirk on your face, you were up to no good. 

You present him with the mask and he chuckles shaking his head. You tell him that you want to know what he'd look like in it, but you don't want to see him try it on in front of you, you want him to walk into the room like the videos you'd seen. You hand him the mask and trot upstairs and into your shared bedroom where you sit patiently on the bed. 

It took a few minutes but you'd finally heard the creaking of the stairs, your heart raced with anticipation and a familiar tingle in your fingers and toes. All over your body really. He emerges from the dark hallway into your dimly lit room and leans against the door frame. Your breath gets caught in your throat, and your thighs squeeze together. He had upped it a bit by removing his shirt and all he had on was a grey wifebeater and sweats to match. His arms were so big and his chest was so large, his broad shoulders adding to the attraction and his scattered tattoos were a bonus. 

You blink and before you know it those clothes, accompanied by your own, have been disregarded and scattered all over the floor. And somehow, here you were, face shoved into the mattress and back arched professionally. His enormous hands gripped your waist as he pulled you into his thrusts making you feel every inch, every vein that was prominent on his shaft. You whine, fingers gripping the sheets for dear life as he pounded you, the bed shaking and creaking to match his rhythm. 

"Look up, mi amor, this what you wanted right?" He mocked, you raise your head with the little bit of strength you had and looked up at the mirror across from the end of your bed, you bite your lip, the sight was something out of Twitter porn. The mask, his arms, the grip he had on your flesh, the way your ass recoils every time it collides with his pelvis-- Oh it was almost magical. "Fuck! That feels so fucking good." You whimper, your toes curl and you feel another orgasm approaching, only the gods in heaven knew what number this one was. You cried as you felt your hands, with a mind of their own, move from their position as you tried to crawl away from him, it was too much, the sheets were damn near soaked and sticky. 

Spooky caught on and pulled you back. "¿Adónde vas, cariño? Hm? Can't take it?"

You gasp as he draws you close to him, his strong arms hooked around your waist, your back pressed against his chest. "Oh, fuck, fuck,fuck!" Was all you could get out before your walls squeezed him, your head in the cloud and your vision completely fucked out. Your head falls back on his shoulder while he continues to slam into you, his own high slowly creeping over him. He takes off the mask and kisses your neck, licking and sucking enough to leave his mark. 

"You want me to come for you, bebita?" He grunts hotly in your ear, you moan and nod as an answer. Usually, he would tell you to use your words but considering your current sex-dazed state, he'd leave it alone for today. He buries his dick deep, his throbbing erection painting your walls making them extra sticky. You smile drunkenly when he affectionately nudges the back of your shoulder with his nose. "You always feel so fucking good, baby, I fucking swear." He praises, now kissing your skin. "Te amo." You manage to squeak out. 

He chuckles. "Te amo, mamita." 

He playfully smacks your ass before easing his way out of you, you fall on to the bed and sigh, completely and utterly satisfied. 

Thank god for TikTok trends.

If you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, reblogs and comments are appreciated.

see you in the next one. peace and love 🤙🏾

🏷: @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit @skyesthebomb @librarian1002

who might be interested: @miyahmaraj @bigenergy777

[elfven-blog]

Make it up to you

Summary: With Jill ignoring you, you decide to just rid yourself of your own frustrations. Jill Valentine x F!reader CW: MDNI, 18+ only, masturbation, thigh riding, fingering, just sex Word count: 1.3K

Ever since Jill had come back from whatever had happened with Wesker she had been distant. Not that she would tell you, she didn’t like discussing it. ‘It was in the past now’ would be the only response you’d get. And even after getting Chris and Rebecca involved, nothing had changed. But with her being distant came other challenges.

Which is probably what led to this current situation. Your legs spread on your shared bed, head back on the pillows and back arched as your hand dipped between your thighs. Fingers swirling at your clit as your other hand moved to your chest, fingers pinching at your hardening nipples. Mouth falling open with a low moan as slick drooled from your cunt, fingers moving to gather it before pressing into your warm and wanting hole.

You really had tried everything to get Jill's attention in the last few months, wanting nothing more than to spend intimate times like this with your girlfriend and not your toys. You’d send pictures ranging from scantily clad pictures of your tits to full videos of your hands between your legs. And nothing worked, you had gotten a few compliments from her, and some words of what she’d do but by the time she was home? She was too tired.

So, you continued to pleasure yourself. Lip trembling as your eyes slipped closed while your fingers pumped in and out of you, adding another to stretch you out and your legs spreading further before your hips rocked up into your palm. Heel of your palm rubbing against your clit and causing whines to fall from your lips.

You didn’t notice as Jill came home, hip propping against the door frame as she watched your fingers disappear into that sweet hole. Pupils swallowed the light blue of her eyes, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she moved forward quietly. She felt as her own slick gathered at the sight of you, and dropped her clothes on the way to the bed until she was able to kneel down on the soft mattress between your legs.

She placed her hands on your thighs, slowly moving them up as you stopped, jumping at the sudden feeling and your eyes shooting open to see your girlfriend above. “ ‘m so sorry baby, must have been neglecting you” you felt yourself heat up as her eyes wandered all over you before she placed her hands either side of you and leant down to press a kiss to your mouth. Jill kissed you until there was drool slipping down your chin, and her tongue was licking into your mouth like she’d starve if she couldn’t taste you.

One of her hands trailed slowly down your body, fingers pinching at your nipples until they were sore before continuing the path. Her fingers left small sparks of electricity until she could play with that now sensitive clit, drawing slow circles to watch as your thighs trembled, and hips rolled upwards into her own hand. She moved to your side so she could watch your reactions, her mouth pressing wet kisses to your neck and her tongue dipping to lap at the skin before she gently bit into your neck. A grin on her face at the loud whine and sharp buck of your hips as she continued the actions.

Her fingers dipped lower, gently pushing one into your dripping cunt and causing a gasp to fall from you. Jill always felt different to your own hand. The one finger inside you curled right against that spot, your hand covering your mouth and Jill shook her head. Using her other hand to remove yours and hold it to the mattress, “Do I need to rope you, sweet bunny? Keep your hands up for me, let me make it up to you” she watched as you nodded, eyes already dazed from how well Jill knew you.

She added another finger while her thumb continued to circle at your clit and your eyes fluttered closed. Jill slowly moved down, her mouth pressing more marks into your skin. “So pretty like this, all open and willing. Letting me do what I want” she moaned into your skin as your pussy clenched down on her fingers “Like that baby? Like me using you when I want, nothing more I like coming home to then a sweet pussy just cryin’ for me to give her kisses or fuck her senseless”.

Her words had you whining, arms twitching to move but you kept them still. Wanting to be a good girl. She gently nipped at the soft skin of your breasts, your back arching into her mouth as she soothed at the mark with her tongue “That’s a good girl, just let me apologise sweet girl” The brunette took your pebbled nipple into her mouth, tongue licking over the area before she suckled gently at your breast.

Jill moans at the feeling of your cunt pulsing around her fingers as she continued to fuck into you with them, the feeling of slick gushing from your hole only spurring her on more as she feels your thighs tremble against her own. Her mouth moving to the other tit so she can wrap her lips around the neglected bud, saliva drooling on your chest as your hips move down onto her hand. Her eyes never close as she watches you, and the whines leaving you sound like heaven to her ears.

You squirm under her as you feel that pressure building, legs starting to close before she pulls away to harshly nip at the underside of your breast “No do not close your legs” She moves her leg between yours, holding them open and settling her weight against your thigh. “God bunny, feel that? S’all for you” your leg presses up against her pussy, her slick covering your thigh as she begins to slowly move her own hips.

“Just gonna use this pretty thigh, get it all wet, keep you here like this for me to use whenever I want” her words had your head dizzy and your hips rolling up in the same rhythm your girlfriend had her hips moving against your thigh, the sound of your shared moans fills the room before she takes your mouth with her ow again. Tongue immediately pushes past your lips as you open it willingly so she can press her tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch as her fingers curl again.

She had you easily panting into her mouth as you tried to keep up, hands clenching at the pillows while her own moved to massage your breasts. Finger pinching at the pebbled nipple, her mouth moving into a slow kiss as her tongue dipped into your mouth. Her fingers curled again, and your thighs shook as your back arched, your cum dripping around her hand as your hips bucked up.

With your own orgasm, you decided to return the favour, your hands sliding up Jill’s legs before grasping at the plush of her ass. Your hands helped to guide the way she rode your thigh, her pussy grinding down as she soaked the skin with her slick. Her mouth falling open and her head lolling back as she moaned, your eyes focusing on the way her tits bounced from the erratic movements.

With the help of your hands pressing her down harshly onto your thigh, and the frustration of no recent release, it didn’t take long for Jill to fall forwards with a low moan. Her head resting against your neck as her orgasm coated your leg and dripped onto the sheets below, mixing with your own. You both lay there for a moment trying to catch your breath as Jill placed sweet kisses against your skin, your hand massaging at her legs.

She buried her head into your neck, pressing one more kiss to it “Sorry I’ve been so distant its just…its, ya know?”

You nodded your head, hand coming to stroke her hair “I know my love, I know”.

[princess-nobody]

Avatar Rant: Snowy Region Na'vi

Am I the only one who doesn't like the fanon snow navi designs? Specifically this (I used shitty AI images I found off of pinterest to illustrate the point and to avoid using actual artwork from people 🩷):

(Before I continue my God these are creepy 😭 AI genuinely cannot create Na'vi without them looking uncanny, disturbing and far too human)

I can understand why people choose the more predictable design philosophy – blonde hair, blue eyes, pale/white skin, pretty two pieces – because that's relatively how this sort of lifestyle has been portrayed to us in the media. Every movie or show set in a snowy region always features mostly eastern European characters, so naturally people decide that their snow na'vi must resemble eastern European people to a degree, and this bothers me.

Not because they look like white people (though that is like 25% why ngl) but because it just isn't realistic? Na'vi may be inspired by humans but they are still a different species living on a harsh and deadly planet that humans can't survive in, na'vi winter and snow would be excruciatingly difficult for them, and they would need to adapt to it.

I just don't see how they would be so thin and petite and pale, people say to blend in, but why? Only a handful of animals in arctic regions are actually white to blend in (polar bears, arctic foxes etc.) so wouldn't it make more sense to base them off of arctic animals from the ice age? Back then, animals were bigger, bulkier, with thicker skin and hair all over to protect themselves from the crippling cold – with that in mind, wouldn't snow na'vi be bigger than average na'vi, and bulkier too? Unlike regular na'vi, it would make sense that the snow ones actually have body hair all over, maybe even fur if you want to take it that far.

And if you're basing them off of INDIGENOUS people, then appearance, features and fashion wise, wouldn't it make more sense to base them off of the actual Inuit people of the arctic instead of Elsa from frozen 😭

Because realistically why would they wear flowey dresses and two pieces in weather that is probably 80% worse than any winter humanity has ever faced... especially since na'vi are all inspired by different non-white/european indigenous communities, and yes... non-white/European indigenous people do in fact live in cold, snowy, arctic regions...

To add a little bit of pseudo-psychology to it, it may be done in an attempt from white avatar fans for the most part to feel closer to the na'vi by adding a white adjacent sub-species, as the closer to europeans the na'vi look, the more they see themselves within the na'vi. However, that is purely speculation lol.

Also, I do NOT think you are racist or anti-indigenous or anything of the sort if your headcanon for snow na'vi looks anything like the examples! You're allowed to draw and design what you want, and just because tumblr user princess-nobody doesn't like it, doesn't mean it's bad.

TLDR: Fanon snow na'vi don't make sense and confuse me lol. Imo snow na'vi would be big and bulky behemoths that are covered in thick body hair and wear large, figure covering warm clothing, not skinny little russian girls in ballet outfits LMAOOOO.

[maldaptivedreamer]

From Afar P. 7

With your heart aching and your ego is bruised, can you bring yourself to forgive him? Will you give him the chance to fix what he broke?… Is he worth a second chance?

content: Errors and mistakes, not entirely accurate to alien universe, angst with happy ending, name calling (asshole, darling, etc.)

wc: ~2.9

a/n: I'm not sure about how I feel about the ending, but I did try to make it happy. Didn't wanna draw things out too much, but not sure if it landed. Feels kinda rushed. Anyway, thanks for reading!

Masterlist     

Work had been a shitshow. The lack of sleep was starting to take its toll on your body, and the constant ache in your muscles only worsened throughout the day.

You accidentally dropped your drill, and the loud clanging noise reverberated through the stuffy tunnel. Normally, everyone kept to themselves and ignored the sounds of their coworkers, focused on meeting their quota by the end of their shift. But this time, all eyes were on you. A nearby worker shouted over the deafening noises, “Damn, I feel sorry for that bastard.”

Finishing your shift and returning your drill, you couldn't help but agree with their sentiment. The attendant quickly noticed the damaged drill and tsked disapprovingly before adding more time to your work contract as compensation for the damage.

Ultimately, your shift ended with more time owed than less.

As you near your front door, all you can think about is a long shower and crawling into bed.

Lost in thought, you almost miss the figure sitting on your doorstep until you're only a few doors away. Gnawing on your lip, you sigh and begin to mentally prepare yourself.

Schooling your face into an expression of dry neutrality, you apprehensively approach the door. The figure stands up and brushes himself off, his voice shaking with fake enthusiasm, “Hey, haven’t seen you in a while.”

Bjorn looks almost exactly the same as he did the last time you saw him. Almost.

But you know him better than that. Have come to know him more intimately than, dare you say, anyone else ever had.

His stress is evident in the creases on his clothes, the headband he wears with little concern for its placement, and the fidgety movements of his hands as he twists his ring or wipes them on his jeans. It's also visible in the darker shade of pink on his bottom lip from constant biting.

He stands in front of your door, silently pleading for entry. You say nothing, and he swallows hard at your silence.

With a nod and a downward glance, he shuffles his feet in the dirt and speaks, “You, uh… You changed the code to your door, and I wasn’t really able to catch you…” His voice trails off and you simply watch him.

His chest puffs with a deep, audible breath, “Guess you’ve just been busy… I guess. Would you… may I come in?”

Silently, you gesture towards your door, and he quickly moves aside. Your body shields the keypad as you enter the code and unlock the door. Turning to face him, you tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

Finally speaking, you utter out a simple, “No.” You watch as the hope in his eyes is quickly replaced by desperation.

His voice is rushed as you move to shut the door, “Please! Please… I just want to talk. I want to… to apologize. To say I’m sorry.”

Your neutral expression drops into a frown as you respond with an unforgiving tone, “You just did, why should I let you in? … I’m tired and I’ve had a shit day at work. I’m really, really not in the mood, nor do I have the energy to have this conversation.”

Bjorn forces his anxious eyes to focus on yours as he speaks in a low, watery voice, “You’re right… You’re always right love. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… You’ve given me so many chances. So, so many. And-” His voice becomes choked, “and I fucked every single one of them up… But I’m asking, begging for one more love. Please- just, just to talk.”

You pause before giving him a forced nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. Your voice is blunt, “Okay, but I need to take a quick shower first, so… just go wait in the kitchen or something.”

Without waiting for his response, you swing open the door and retreat to your room.

As you turn on the faucets and gather a change of clothes, you can still feel his pleading eyes piercing into you from two rooms away.

You briefly lean on the counter with both hands and stretch your tense body. With a grimace, you strip off your clothes and step into the warm stream of water.

As the warm water cascades over you, you feel the strain in your muscles begin to relax. You take a deep breath and decide that this shower will, in fact, not be quick – He’d wasted your time before why not return the favor. Trying to disregard your spiteful thoughts, you focus on clearing your mind before what will surely be a draining conversation.

As you dry off and get dressed, your body pulses with adrenaline. The urge to run or fight is intense and your body tenses with restraint.

Making your way into the kitchen, you can see him sit awkwardly on the chair. Deciding to keep your distance, you force your shaking hands to still as you lean against the kitchen counter.

You roll your eyes and tiredly speak, “Go on then.”

There is a tense silence as Bjorn avoids looking at you. His voice is shaky and falters as he speaks, “I’m sorry.”

Another silence follows, and your grip on the counter tightens. Scoffing with disbelief, your voice sharp, “‘I’m sorry.’ That’s it?"

You push yourself off the counter, fists clenched and hissing with frustration. “You can’t even bother to look me in the fucking eye?… What? What did you think this was gonnna be, huh?” you seethe. You pause to let your question hang in the air before continuing.

You stare at him as your brows are furrowed in anger. Scoffing, you begin to pace on the kitchen floor, “Nothing to say? Is it because you thought that you’d come here… say sorry… and then everything would be, okay?”

Your pacing on the kitchen floor intensifies as Bjorn swallows, watching you rub your hands across your face. "No, I-" he begins.

Cutting him off, you continue with a bitter tone, “No? You didn’t come here expecting make up sex? Or better yet, angry sex? … You never really wanted to talk about any of this,” you gesture between you angrily, “That was the problem, but now that I’m done… You want to fix it…”

Your voice falters and you feel treacherous tears cloud your eyes, “You know… It hurt… It fucking hurt when you repeatedly, repeatedly kept putting the conversation off?

Dragging a harsh hand through your hair and chest heaving, you hiss, “Do you know how fucking embarrassing it is to be with someone everyone calls an asshole?”

Your voice turns mocking, “They were joking, sure. But I’m not finding the joke very funny right now… I have been soo patient with you. Why do you think that was?”

Not pausing for him to answer, your voice holds so much sorrow and anger, “Because I fucking liked you Bjorn.”

“Liked?”, he chokes out, pain evident on his face.

Slowly nodding, you give him a sarcastic smile, “Yeah liked… Did you think that I stayed and put up with your shit because of the sex? No," you scoff and laugh bitterly.

Leaning on the counter with your head down, your voice is now quiet, “I stayed because I started to fucking like you. The humiliating thing is I really, really liked you.”

Both of you remain silent as you process the weight of your words. The surge of anger and adrenaline may have given you a temporary boost, but now you feel completely drained. Your body slumps as all the emotions that you had been suppressing finally spill out. The argument has left you with an empty feeling in your chest.

When Bjorn finally speaks, his voice is laced with guilt. He stands up, gesturing with open hands as he apologizes, “I understand… and I am so, so sorry for how much I’ve hurt you, for hurting you. I’m sorry for how much I’ve put you through.” There is a pause as he gathers his thoughts, it gives you a chance to do the same. You allow yourself to slide down to the floor, your limbs feeling exhausted and useless.

His face is open and genuine, with gleaming eyes that never waver from your gaze. The pain in your chest intensifies as he lowers himself to the ground, settling a few feet away from you.

Bjorn lets out a wet laugh as he speaks, “You’re right. I’m an asshole, I can be one, but never to you. I never wanted to be that to you. I…”

He draws in a deep breath and licks his dry lips. His hands ball into fists as he struggles against the urge to reach out and touch yours. A few stray tears slide down his flushed cheeks, “I want a relationship with you. I want to be with you… I want to be your partner if you’ll still have me, and if not… then I would like to be a part of your life. I… care about you. I really, really like you. I don’t exactly know if what we have… had… was love, but it was the closest thing I’ve ever come to it. I’m not sure if you feel, or felt, the same but I am so fuckin’ sorry that I ruined it darling.”

Bringing himself closer to you, his tone soft and vulnerable, “I want to work on this, on me…” He licks his lips again, searching for the right words, “If not with you then for you. I want to be better.”

You sigh and reach out a trembling hand towards him. Bjorn immediately crawls closer and takes your hand in his. You study his face and shake your head, gently brushing his hair away back, “Bjorn, I don’t want you to change for me. I want you to do it for you… This won’t work if you do it for me. I accept your apology, but I don’t forgive you…”

You can see the glimmer of hope in his eyes as he tentatively reaches out to wipe away your tears. You force yourself to shake your head and raise a hand to do it yourself.

As his hand falls away, you steel yourself and speak firmly despite the heaviness in your chest, “We are not picking up where we left off… As much as I would really like to believe you, I don’t. I don’t trust you. We need to take things slow, to be friends. I just, just need time… I can’t be around you right now. I’m still so angry and I don’t want to start a friendship with you still angry.”

Licking your dry lips, your breaths come out in choppy bursts. A frown creases your face.

Bjorn swallows hard and gives you space. His voice is strained - it's hard to tell if it's from hurt or hope or both - when he speaks again, “Thank you lo-”

You quickly interrupt him, “And don’t, don’t call me love. It’s-”, you pause, “Nicknames need to be kept to a minimum, but don’t call me love. Please.”

A small part of you is hopeful, cautiously hopeful. Very cautiously hopeful.

“Easy darling, you’ll end up cuttin’ yourself if you keep on,” Bjorn’s teasing and stupidly annoying voice reaches your ears.

Groaning, you flip him off, “Then fucking help me asshat.”

He throws his head back in a laugh as he uncrosses his arms. Pushing himself from the wall he’d leant on, he makes his way toward you.

"Alright, alright," he chuckles, reaching out to you. Your face scrunches with one final attempt before begrudgingly handing the bottle to him. Sitting by you, his fingers brush yours as they grasp the neck of the bottle. You try to ignore the warmth that spreads through your body at his touch.

Bjorn effortlessly opens the beer, and he hands it to you. You purposefully brush your fingers against his as he speaks.

“There you are darling,” he murmurs, his voice suddenly low and serious. Feeling drawn to his blue eyes, you meet his intense gaze. For a moment, the world seems to stand still.

Shaking yourself out of it, you clear your throat. "Thanks," you mutter.

Sighing, you try to focus on why you asked him here in the first place. Your voice is noticeably worried as you speak, “Tyler and Navarro will be distracting Kay, so I need help setting everything up for her. So, can you help me? There’s a lot I wanna to get done.”

Bjorn grins, the earlier tension dissipating. "Depends. What's in it for me?"

As you focus on his familiar teasing, the stress dissipates. You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile. "The pleasure of my company, obviously."

"Oh, obviously," he drawls. "Because that's such a treat."

Your playful tone reaches his ears as he nudges you, "Oh please, you love my company. You’re always around, practically obsessed with me... Who knows maybe one day I’m gonna find a way to get rid of your annoying ass.”

He stretches out next to you as he speaks, “Come now darling, you’d miss me and my pretty face too much.”

He tilts his head towards you and his voice is suddenly serious, genuine, “Hey lo-.”

Your heart jumps as you hear his slip up, but you ignore it.

Clearing his throat, he continues, “Course I’ll help with everything. And she’s gonna love it. Everything will be perfect. With her bleeding heart, she would’ve loved just the cake you’d made her, she’ll crash when she sees what you’ve got planned.”

His light nudges bring you back to reality, pulling you out of your racing thoughts. The teasing grin is back on his face, “Relax princess, it’s ‘sposed to be a party.”

You try. You roll your shoulders, but the attempt is useless. It will be, until everything is done, possibly even after.

Watching you, he bites his lip briefly before furrowing his brows, “C’mon, we’ll work on fixin’ it til everything looks good, yeah?”

Glancing at him, your eyes hold a genuine appreciation for him. Appreciation for more than just his help with Kay’s party.

Holding air in your cheeks, you nod at him. Bjorn’s smile is enough to slightly lessen the anxiety in your chest.

With his reassurance and comforting presence beside you, you become lost in your thoughts.

It took a considerable amount of time and effort to get where you both are now, but you are grateful that you allowed him back into your life. You thought you had strong feelings for him before, but they have only intensified since then.

Bjorn has changed; you have seen how hard he's worked to improve himself and to be better. Everyone around him has noticed; all of them mentioning that he is significantly more tolerable now, attributing that change to you. You don’t want to take the credit for his hard work to change, but… his relationship with you did play a significant role in motivating him to change.

You pause your thoughts and sneak a glance at him from the corner of your eye.

He gets up to grab another beer and stumbles over the trash on the floor, cursing under his breath. You can't help but release a small, breathless giggle, causing him to turn towards you with a playful glare.

The smile on your face softens as he makes his way back towards you. You both sit in silence before your gentle voice breaks it, “I forgive you Bjorn.”

You shift your gaze from the people around you to his pretty blue eyes, "I forgive you," you say softly. "And maybe not now… but if you wanna start dating, start a relationship together… then I’m ready.”

A wide grin spreads across his face at your words, and he bites his lip to contain it. You can't help but smile in return.

The warm feeling in your chest intensifies as he takes your hand in his. Squeezing your clasped hands, he swallows.

Bjorn's eyes shine with emotion as he gazes at you, he squeezes your hand tighter. "Are you sure?" he asks softly, his voice filled with hope and a hint of disbelief.

You squeeze his hand back, feeling a surge of warmth at his consideration. "I'm sure. We've taken things slow, built a friendship. I trust you again, Bjorn. And I..." You pause, gathering your courage. "I think I'm falling in love with you."

His breath catches and for a moment he's speechless. Then a brilliant smile spreads across his face. "I love you too," he murmurs.

Bjorn lets out a shaky breath, bringing your joined hands to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "Thank you," he murmurs against your skin. "I promise I won't let you down this time. I'll do whatever it takes to make this work."

You can't help but smile at the sincerity in his voice. "I know you will. We'll make it work together."

Bjorn leans in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you want. But you don't. Your eyes flutter closed as his lips meet yours in a tender kiss.

Pulling away, you feel the familiar warmth of his forehead against yours. You laugh and caress his cheek with your thumb, teasingly saying, “That’s all you’re getting til you take me out on a date.”

His warm breath tickles your face as he chuckles, "A date, huh?" Bjorn murmurs, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I think I can manage that.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulder, and you lean into him, both of you lost in comfortable silence. Kissing your forehead, Bjorn's arms feel like home.

[wandanatskitten]

A Perfect Bath

This is my first story on here so I hope you like it. I’ve had it in my notes for a while (like almost a year apparently) and I’ve been thinking about posting soooooo here it is. Why not do it for funsies.

Minors DNI 18+

Not really any warnings just smut and fluff

Synopsis: Wanda being a perfect wife and drawing you a bubble bath to relax. But the only thing that would make it better is if she joins you.

1.2k words Enjoy!

When I closed my eyes and took a deep sigh, I could finally feel my muscles relax as the hot water of the bath overtook my body. The fresh scent of lavender coating the atmosphere as the steam rose pass my senses. And the deep sea of bubbles that intricately hid my lack of innocence below it.

“Is there anything else you need, moya lyubov'?” Wanda’s sweet voice broke through the silence.

I opened my eyes to see her lighting a match and transferring the flame to a few candles around the bathroom before switching the lights off. The darkened room only adding to my content state.

I sighed out an answer of praise, “You draw the best baths.”

“Is there any way I can make it better?”

Her question pulls an adoring smile onto my face. Wanda has always been the most caring partner. And it was moments like these, where she would do the simplest thing, such as to run me a bath after coming back from a long day of work. So, naturally, there was only one correct answer to her question.

“You could join me.” I tell her.

“Well, I don’t want to disturb your peace.” She tilts her head.

“Refusing me would disturb my peace.”

And with a simple chuckle, I knew I had her. Not that she was truly ever one to deny me, especially in these circumstances.

Her eyes never left me while I studied her every movement that shadowed in the dancing flames. One by one, an article of clothing was removed slower than I had the patience for. Her shirt lifted to reveal her soft and desirable skin. And my relief for her lack of bra didn’t go unnoticed when her teasing was paired with a smirk. Her slender fingers began to spark my own imagination when they tucked themselves into her waistband, and with the same pace as her shirt, she pulled her bottoms down.

“You go any slower and the water will be cold before you dip a toe.” I couldn’t help but defend the helplessness she suddenly put me in. Wanda loved to work me up in more ways than one. And I’ll be damned if I stop her. If my hand even dared to reach and pull her panties down faster, she’d swat me away and deny the pleasure she makes me desperately crave. To be teased by the woman I love is a blessing and a curse.

She only responds to my desperate attempt at making her move faster with a raspy laugh. And contrary to my words, the water seemed hotter than before when she took her chance and stepped in behind me.

My former state of relaxation, quickly replaced with a tense throbbing between my legs. And with no surprise, her teasing didn’t stop outside of the tub.

Her hands wrap around my waist and drew light scratches up my sides. Inching closer and closer to the valley of my breast. Her hands massage me softly as a low moan finds its way to my ears. The sound of her enjoying my body as much as I do hers, causes a new flood of arousal where I need her most.

My breathing falters when one hand pinches my nipple and the other glides beneath the bubbles. Only to make its way pass my heat and grip my thigh. A groan replaces an expected moan with her last moment of building tension.

And for the third time she laughs at my submissive need to feel her inside of me.

“How can I touch you properly, if you’re hiding behind closed legs?” She questions.

In my spurring desire for relief, I had clenched my legs to feel any form of friction. Which caused her to roughly grip the inside of my thigh and guide me into a more vulnerable position.

As her fingers walked their way back, a silent moan found its way to my lips. The small circles around my clit causing me to flinch and buck my hips. I could’ve came right now from the way she worked me up. Just the idea of her finally touching me was enough to pull me closer to my climax.

“How’s this?” She whispers, placing a kiss to my temple and applying more pressure on my bundle of nerves.

I closed my eyes, only focused on the way her hands caress me. “More…please.” I tell her and she complies without a thought.

Her fingers glide through my folds, my arousal making it easier to accept two fingers even though we’re in water.

The new atmosphere took over in the form of my moans and whimpers. Along with the splashing of water caused by my shaking legs.

The temperature change between the hot water and cool air on my nipples as the water rocked. The feeling of her lips sucking the skin on my neck and biting love marks into the abused skin. And the deep rasp of Wanda whispering sweet praises into my ear. “God, you’re so perfect. The way you wrap around my fingers. You were made for me.”

Nothing was paired better with her talented hands. God, the way her thumb keeps the right amount of pressure on my clit and continuously has me whimpering her name. Only for her to tell me, “I’m right here, detka. I’m right here.”

While one of my hands seeks comfort behind her neck. Keeping me from sliding into the water and simultaneously pulling her into a kiss.

Her tongue easily finding its way into my mouth while the two fingers inside of me extract the most explicit moans meant for Wanda’s ears only. “Don’t…don’t stop.” I moaned between breathes.

He fingers curled perfectly, running over that sweet spot she seems to find so easily. The faster she fucks me the more my hips try to ride with her pace. My body shooting into an uncontrollable spasm as my other hand clutches her wrist. More pleas escape my lips before turning into mumbles and desperate moans. Gasping under her hold as my orgasm builds. My walls clenching around her digits, not wanting the moment to end.

“That’s it baby, let go for me.”

And in a few short moments I do exactly that. What was once silent moans, hastily turned into a mix between cuss words, Wanda’s name, and throaty moans that came from the pit of my orgasm.

And not once did her hands relent. Instead one arm grounded me before I could get too much water on the floor and the other continued to work me through my climax. Only slowing down to the rhythm of my breaths and eventually to a complete stop.

Both of her hands return to my breast while she kisses my shoulder. A low rumble of a moan breaks from her, luring me out of my hazy state. Closely putting me into a state of mind for round two.

“You’re right, I do make the best baths.” She says, this time causing me to laugh before settling into her.