#I think my answer was “YES. ALL THE TIME.”

[movrningstxrs]

MR. (AND MRS.) TODD

e-e-english teacher jason. that is all. REBLOGS and COMMENTS are greatly appreciated

gotham academy, an esteemed and prestigious institution responsible for teaching and fostering the bright young minds of the city’s wealthy elites.

but when your future was a given, predetermined and handed over on a silver platter as a result of your parents’ money and influence, not much thought was given to the mundane school assignments and exams that most children worried about.

instead, study periods and group discussions were centered around the latest school gossip and drama, with one popular, recurring topic being that of yours and jason’s love life—or more specifically, lack thereof.

as the two youngest teachers and faculty members at the academy, with pretty faces to match, was it really a surprise that most of the student population was keen to see the two of you together?

the art and english teachers, two peas in a pod, destined to be together like the female and male leads of a cheesy rom-com movie.

there were signs, too, according to your students. like the small, subtle smiles exchanged in passing in-between classes, or the way your bodies seemed to be drawn to one another like magnets, always ending up next to each other at every school function and event.

and to youngsters who’d yet to fully understand the concept of boundaries, there was no clearer indication!

the only problem was that you were both married, and not to each other, much to everyone’s disappointment. but all of that would come to change one fateful day.

it was the second to last period on a wednesday afternoon. jason was at the chalkboard, going over his notes on the latest act of ‘romeo and juliet’ with the class, when a sudden knock rang from the door.

there you were, a meek and apologetic smile on your face as you walked in and handed back to him a set of keys, completely oblivious to the way your fingers ever so fleetingly touched, along with the multiple pairs of eyes that had caught sight of the ‘scandalous’ interaction.

“oh my god, did you see that?!”

“just kiss already!”

“mr. todd, are you sure that you guys are ‘just friends?’”

“enough, you little menaces,” jason demanded in halfhearted annoyance. “get back to writing. all of this information will be on your exam.”

“boo! you’re no fun!”

a call of your name. “miss, would you ever consider dating mr. todd?”

“…i don’t think that’s an appropriate question for school,” you expertly redirected.

“we’re not hearing a ‘no!’”

a fond chuckle escaped your lips before you could stop it, and you found yourself ever increasingly more amused by the children’s non-stop antics, much to jason’s apparent disapproval and displeasure.

preparing to take your leave, you rhetorically asked in good humour, “any other questions?”

a single hand immediately shot up—its owner, stoic and dignified, yet his eyes gleamed with a dangerous spark of exasperation and chaos.

oh no.

“…yes, damian?”

“when will you and todd be next available to join the rest of us for family dinner night?” damian casually inquired, purposefully blind to the intensity of his brother’s scalding glare. “father says that he ‘misses seeing his favourite daughter-in-law.’ ridiculous, considering the fact that you’re his only daughter-in-law.”

the class fell silent as the implications of damian’s words lingered in the air.

you blinked once, slowly, mind still processing as you turned to glance at your husband. jason only sighed in response, tired and defeated, his lesson plans evidently tossed out of the window for the day, as the class quickly erupted into complete hysteria.

“excuse me, what?!”

“i knew it!”

“we’ve been bamboozled!”

with your long-held secret now out in the open, you resisted the urge to smirk as you pretended to ponder damian’s question for a moment, letting out a contemplative hum before you coolly answered, “we can probably make some time next week. right, honey?”

“sure, love,” jason replied, pinching the bridge of his nose as he felt a sudden, oncoming headache. he pointedly chose to ignore the squeals of excitement coming from the back of the room at his term of endearment for you.

“good,” damian nodded in approval.

with an amused wave goodbye, you almost felt sorry for your poor husband when you noticed the look of pure anguish on his face as you hastily made your escape and left him to fend for himself.

once in the hall, you could faintly hear a voice asking, “wait, does that mean damian’s related to mr. todd?”

“not by blood, but yes, unfortunately,” came your brother-in-law’s irritated response. “now, never bring my familial relationships up in my presence ever again.”

[peachesofteal]

Like Real People Do previous + masterlist Simon Riley/female reader - hospital au CW: none except a prickly Simon

“Did he answer you?”

“No.” You glance at the open chat window again, just to be sure. “It’s only been five minutes though?”

“This can’t wait, these little suckers can turn on a dime so fast.” She sighs, and then motions down the hall. “You’ll have to wake him up. He’s in call room two.” It’s eight am, but according to everyone on the floor, he’s been here since twenty hundred yesterday, and had a midnight case that had him in the OR until six.

Meaning he just went to bed.

Fuck.

“Maybe you should go… he doesn’t really like me much.” An understatement.

“Uh uh. This is your patient, you face the wrath.” Another nurse peeks around her monitor at the station.

“You’re cruel Key.” She shrugs.

“She’ll have to do it eventually.” She looks at the chart again, and chews on her lip. “He’ll want to look at her before he puts anything in, and once he realizes what’s going on he won’t be mad. Hurry up.” Your shoulders slump in defeat.

“Fine.”

You’ve been on the unit for two weeks.

In that time, you’ve verbally interacted with Doctor Riley a whole three times.

Once, in the OR.

“Have you ever circulated before?”

“Daisy is shadowing me.” Key assures him, omitting the part where you indeed, have never circulated. There aren’t many things you haven’t done at this point in your career, but circulating is one of them. It’s a mix of counting things a million times and directing all the traffic in the OR. You’re not inept. You don’t doubt your ability to learn new things, but you’d be lying if you said it’s not intimidating.

Especially when he looks at you over his mask, gaze cold and laser focused.

“Have you ever circulated before Daisy?” He repeats himself. Key sighs like she’s ready for the day to be over already, and you shake your head.

“No.” Anger flashes in his eyes, and he glares at her.

“Fucking hell. My OR is not the place to learn how to circulate, Keona.”

“Well, you do the most cases, Doctor Riley. She has to learn sometime.” There’s a razor in her voice, softened by a syrupy lilt, and he gives her another withering look before directing his attention back to you.

“Don’t touch anything.”

Once, in the hallway.

“Daisy!” He barks at your back and you instinctively freeze, shoulders shooting up beneath your ears before you manage to turn and face him.

“Y-yes?”

“You have Maverick? Crib B?” Your palms instinctively start sweating. Nothing is wrong. You were literally just in there and he was stable. Cute. Sleeping. He’s stable. Nothing is wrong. Right?

“Yeah- yes. He’s mine.” He scrutinizes you like he’s searching for something, ever present frown affixed to his lips.

“Why is his bili light still on?” Oh no. Did you leave it on?

“What?” He stares at you like you’re the dumbest person he’s ever met. And who knows, maybe you are.

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

“Sorry ah, no. It shouldn’t be on. I thought…”

“You thought?” You’re used to getting kicked around. Surgeons have god complexes, residents think they’re so far ahead of where they truly are, attendings love to pick you apart if they’re having a bad day. Not all of them, but enough that there is a reputation, and when you’re new, you get run over. When you’re seasoned, you learn to navigate it.

But Doctor Riley coming down on you is completely different, and shame curdles in your stomach at the idea of making a mistake.

“You’re telling me you don’t know if that light is on or off?”

“I-”

“I know you’re used to a floor where you can do the bare minimum to keep your patients alive until they get transferred, but the NICU requires a bit more attention to detail. Do you think you can do that?” Your throat goes dry, and you stare at him, words evaporating as he repeats himself, slowly. “Do… you… think… you… can…. do... that?” Jesus Christ.

“I thought I turned it off.” He steps closer. Close enough you can smell his dial soap and the barely there whiff of aftershave. Close enough he blots out the light on the ceiling. He tsks.

“Do you think you can do that Daisy?”

“Yes.” You whisper, closing your eyes. He hates you. He hates you and it’s so much worse than just some run of the mill asshole provider who’s got it out for you. So much more. “Yes I can do that. I- I’ll go check on him right now.” He nods, and then doesn’t even spare you a glance as he strides down the hall, swearing under his breath.

And then once in the parking garage.

“Wait!” You sprint to the elevator, breathless as you jump through the quickly closing door-

and right into the chest of Doctor Riley.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch, only grabs you by the upper arms to keep you from toppling over.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry.” He drops his hands as soon as you’re steady, but doesn’t step away.

“It’s alright.” He’s studying you. Again. Always. You noticed him doing it the other day on the floor, watching you over the head of his resident, a bug under a microscope that he’s going crush. “You have straw on your sweatshirt.”

“What?”

“Straw.” He says it slowly, like you’re hard of hearing. “On your clothes.” His gaze flicks to the collar of your sweater, where indeed, a souvenir from the barn is clinging to the fabric. Jesus.

“Ah, oops. Thanks.” The elevator lurches to a stop on the next floor of the garage, and when it opens, Doctor Price is standing on the other side. He immediately smiles, corners of his eyes crinkling.

“Daisy.” He doesn’t even say hi to Doctor Riley, just slips inside and leans against the wall. “How is it in baby-land?” Doctor Riley glares at him, one of his ‘I am thinking about ending your life’ glares that you’ve been on the receiving end too many times, and Price chuckles.

“Uh, it’s good Doctor Price.”

“Daze, please. I’ve asked you a million times to call me John.”

“Sorry, old habits die hard.” You manage a nervous laugh.

“You takin’ care of my girl Simon?” Awkward silence descends over the three of you, and your heart thumps around in your chest like a drum. Doctor Price- John, raises an eyebrow.

“Seems like you’ve coddled her enough already.” Doctor Riley grunts. Your face burns, and you stare straight ahead, begging the doors to open and release you. From your peripheral, you can see John’s facial expression change, but you stay facing forward, drowning in your embarrassment, your shame.

“Arsehole.” John growls. The doors pick a miraculous moment to slide wide and you dart through them, Doctor’s Riley response lost as you disappear around a corner.

“Doctor Riley?” You knock a little louder, mentally crossing your fingers he’ll answer and you won’t actually have to open the door. “Um… Doctor Riley? Are you in there?”

Nothing.

Shit.

Cool metal gives under the pressure of your fingers on the handle, and you call for him through the crack of the door. “Doctor Riley?”

Silence.

Double shit.

You cross the threshold, two steps inside. “Doctor Riley?”

There’s a sharp, startled inhale, and then the grit of his voice is drifting through the darkness. “What?”

“Uh, it’s… I tried messaging you but you didn’t answer. It’s the Anderson baby, she’s bradycardic and I don’t know, her muscle tone is off, I think -”

“What?” He’s alert, immediately. The mattress creaks and then he’s flicking the light on, appearing in front of you like a ghost-

without a shirt on.

You try to look away. You do. But his chest is right in front of you, his chest with golden brown hair, hair that travels down his sternum to his belly and continues to disappear into his pants. There's muscle beneath the weight on him, and it all sits well. Perfectly. And the tattoo, the 360 sleeve stretching from should to wrist is the icing on the cake of this paradox of a giant.

Brilliant man who loves little babies, who’s skill for saving their lives is known far and wide, who looks like he could fell a tree with one swing of an axe, who saved your Riley’s life-

and who without a doubt, hates you.

You can’t look away, so you do the next best thing. You slam your eyes shut. “Um I’ll just… I’ll wait outside.” You turn, eyes still closed, and smack your face into the metal door frame so hard your orbital bone sings. You bite your lip to swallow the cursed yell that tries to burst free.

“You alright?”

“Yep.” Your lie is high pitched, and you duck around the door to wait out of sight.

When it clicks shut behind him, he turns to face you. Studying again. Scrutinizing, this time with a hand clenched at his side. “Sure you’re alright?”

“Yes.” You’re not going to let him catch you being weak. Not for a single second. His lips down into a frown, and he shakes his head.

“Let’s go.”

Baby Anderson is tough. Probably tougher than you’ll ever be. She goes to surgery not ten minutes after Doctor Riley is at her crib, and then comes out like a champ, stable after a valve repair.

The relief makes your knees weak. It’s what carries you to the end of the day, all the way through your shift up until you’re walking across the parking garage, broken backpack hanging off your shoulder, oblivious to everything around you.

Then you hear him.

“Daisy.” You whirl. He’s standing there, a step behind you, arms crossed. “I’ve been calling your name.”

“Oh I… I was distracted.” You look away because it sounds so pathetic and you’re sure he’s sneering at you. “Sorry.” He’s quiet for a beat, and you study your shoes. They’re old and worn down. You really need new ones. Everyone on the unit has those new sneakers, the popular ones they all swear by, the ones that look like a dream. Lots of cushioning. You fantasize for a second about somehow making it work out to where you could afford a pair, but the fantasy fades away in the face of reality. You can’t even afford feed for the horses this week.

“Good catch today.” You blink. Who’s he talking to?

“What?” There’s a very long, very deep inhale, and then the rumble of his voice.

“I said, good catch today, with the Anderson baby. She would have tanked without you.”

“Oh, I didn’t do much.” You laugh it off. Because why is this man who despises you all of the sudden saying you did something right?

“You correlated the bradycardia with the muscle tone. That’s enough.”

“Right.” He’s not wrong, but you’re surprised all the same. “Um, thanks.” You finally glance up at him, and to no one’s surprise, he’s studying you again.

“Have a good night.” You momentarily forget yourself. Who? You have a good night? Your manners come back after a beat, and you manage  a strained, polite smile.

“You too Doctor Riley.”

[ohbandera]

thanks for @squidlife-crisis for the tag :]

1. plain white-cheese quesadilla. absolute toddler food & my favorite.

2. Cool with vegans unless they think it's cute to spam you with animal gore & trash people for eating animal products. I once had one of those vegan anti-cruelty PETA-type orgs mail me irl animal gore after I donated to my local SPCA. Must have been put on a mailing list or something. Not cool with those people.

3. Valentine's day colors.

4. Aliens & skinwalkers, and I am terrified of both.

5. French fry :]

6. I used to use a fitness watch but I didnt like that it told me to go to bed & that I should move every hour. I hate when tech tries to tell me how to live my life.

7. ohhhh my goodddd fuCKIGN STINGRAYS!!

8. Yes, and I won't get into bed unless I'm showered and in clean clothes.

9. In the winter I do a nightly retinol syrum (don't expose skin that's been treated with retinol to UV light, it causes cancer.) Every other season I just put a little jojoba oil on my face to combat that arid dry skin feeling I get up here.

10. Neither

11. nothing that's appropriate to mention casually in an ask thing like this

12. None.

13. staying home and chilling because I live so far away from people that the purge is meaningless.

14. yes

15. from best to worst: Freezing, drowning, burning.

16. favorite ice cream flavor!

17. Imagine my house burning down & checking the stove & outlets at least a couple times a day.

18. brown sugar boba. Like the simple black tea & lethal amounts of sugar.

19. caulliflower. What even is that shit

20. I don't like disney.

21. 555 is an angel number that used to make me so uncomfortable that I'd turn clocks away... back when I was into that spiritual woowoo stuff that just makes you look for signs in everything. Angel numbers are fake as hell btw.

22. Yes! It's a half gallon single sheet steel water bottle that could kill a man if you threw it. The insulated water bottles are sometimes sealed with lead so I drink out of a giant ass canteen.

23. A silicone wedding band and an "evil eye" pendant. The evil eye is one of those residual superstitious things I hold on to from my previously mentioned "spiritual woowoo" phase.

24. American english. I like that it is more casual sounding.

25. People tell me I have a good taste in music so ?? I guess? It's subjective though.

26. I stole my thai husband's spice tolerance. I am so good with spice.

27. summer: tshirt and boxers. Winter: sweatpants, tank top, hoodie, slippers.

28. tim hortons chicken sandwich & an orange gatorade eaten while at an empty zoo or aquarium.

29. its a carb, they are all beautiful and equal. All pasta noodles are good pasta noodles.

30. replacing this with a random factoid: I can identify people really easily through sense of smell.. like I think more than other folks? Idk what the normal sense of smell is supposed to be like but I feel like I can sniff a room blind and know who's there.

I'm tagging whoever wants to answer these :]

weirdly specific and unrelated asks to know someone well:

chipotle order?

thoughts on veganism?

a specific color that gives you the ick?

mythical creature you think/believe is real?

favorite form of potato?

do you use a watch?

what animal do you look forward to seeing when you visit an aquarium?

do you change into specific clothes for the house when you get home?

do you have a skincare routine (and how many steps is it)?

on a plane, do you ask for apple or orange juice?

anything from your childhood you’ve held on to?

brand of haircare/bodycare/skincare that you trust 100%?

first thing you’re doing in the purge?

do you think you’re dehydrated?

rank the methods of death: freezing, burning, drowning

thoughts on mint chocolate chip?

an anxious compulsion you do everyday?

your boba/tea order?

the veggie you dislike the most?

favorite disney princess movie?

a number that weirds you out?

do you have an emotional support water bottle?

do you wear jewelry?

which do you find yourself using, american or british english?

would you say you have good taste in music?

how’s your spice tolerance?

what’s your favorite or go-to outfit?

last meal on earth?

preferred pasta noodle?

ask me anything !

leave an ask for the person you reblog it from!

[sugarwarachan]

shinsou hitoshi x f!reader x monoma neito - smut, pussy eating, degradation, sharing is caring

shinsou clocking the way monoma checks you out and the way you return his over-the-top flirting, so after patrol one night he tosses you his phone and hitches your thighs over his shoulders, sucking on your pussy lips through your underwear.

"call him."

you can barely fucking think. "wha-? who?"

he pulls his head up, smirking. "who do you wanna call, princess?"

monoma's face flashes in your head and your faces goes hot.

"he won't think it's weird?"

your boyfriend's too busy slurping at your clothed cunt to answer, but he pulls away with a smack when you yank on his hair.

"i see how he looks at you." he places a soft kiss on your inner thigh. "besides, you like being talked through it - and monoma's the chattiest motherfucker i know."

his teeth sink into the soft meat of your leg, dancing on the edge of pain. "don't forget to put him on speaker."

you press call as shinsou's lifting up your hips to pull down your underwear. your voice hitches, and monoma's teasing tone filters through.

"need saving, nighthide?"

shinsou chooses then to slurp your clit into his mouth.

"fuck - " you gasp out, legs instinctively clamping around his head. he holds you open with a forearm, eyes stern.

"y/n?" monoma sounds strained. "are you okay?"

"yes - " shinsou's darting his tongue in and out, fingers teasing through your folds - "i'm fine. 'toshi said - " he slides a finger inside and your eyes slam shut. you have to gulp down a breath, hear monoma suck in air on the other end. "he said you'd help. that you'd talk to me."

you're panting, face on fire with embarrassment and desire. your stomach dips when monoma chuckles, low and a little off-kilter, like he can't believe his good fortune. you can picture his eyes lighting up, triumphant smile etched on his face.

"oh?" he purrs. "does that idiot not know the right things to say to you?"

you feel shinsou shake his head in good-natured disbelief before he flips you over so he can eat you out from the back.

"so you can talk to him all by yourself, sweetheart," he says, pressing a gentle kiss to the seam between your hip and thigh. "really put on a show for the bastard."

"nei, be nice - " you breathe out, ass thrusting back into hitoshi's chin, his nose bumping under your clit.

(monoma's at home, cheeks flushed, pants pushed to his knees, straining to keep himself from jerking too hard into his fist and ending this before it even starts)

"you want me to be nice? i can hear how wet you are already, you little slut."

you moan, unbidden, the degradation like electricity on your skin.

"that all you can say?" he coos, but you already hear the telltale sound of slick hands slapping up and down, and it sends arousal thrumming through you. "pussy doing all the thinking for you? bet she's gorgeous, all puffy and swollen and begging me to put my dick inside her. you think your boyfriend'll let me fuck you, pretty?"

shinsou plugs two fingers into you, curving them up toward your pelvis, his thumb teasing the puckered skin of your asshole.

"oh god fuck - " pleasure coils low in your belly, your breath ragged in monoma's ear.

"that's not an answer," he taunts. "if you're this fucked out while getting your cunt licked, can't imagine you'd be able to handle me."

"fuck you, you little prick," you whine out, fingernails gripping the phone so hard you fear it'll crack. "stop making me like this."

his laugh is wild in delight. "you get too much of the angel princess treatment from 'toshi don't you?" he sing-songs your boyfriend's name; shinsou's hand clamps down possessively on your leg, but he says nothing.

(he's trying not to bust a nut, your pussy juices dripping down his chin)

monoma's not done talking, too busy stroking his cock to really think through what's falling from his lips. "but you like being a dirty little whore for me. i can hear it in your voice every time you take a breath. your legs must be shakin', huh baby? poor thing - too bad i'm not there to keep you steady."

you're so close, eyes crossing up in your skull. you're barely able to keep yourself upright on the bed.

"nei - "

"don't fucking say my name like that," he grits out. "i need you to cum before you say my name like that - - can you do that for me? let it all out, baby, let me hear it. let me hear you."

your orgasm robs you of sound, curling tight and low in your belly, the pressure a sure indication that you're about to squirt all over 'toshi's face -

(calling monoma becomes a regular occurrence after this)

2025 © all works belong to me, @sugarwarachan! do not repost, translate, or steal any of my works. interaction, reblogs, and comments are appreciated and encouraged <3

taglist <3 @cielito--lindo, @one-scarred-mofo, @uekarashi, @waterfal-ling, @iluvikeu, @bach-ira, @yelikballs

[willwasnotfound]

Other kind of demon

DAAAAAMN, I just invented this today and it's waaay crazy that it has so many likes :'v (at least for me) Thank you everyone for reading this, I promise I'll do my best to give you all whatever you want, again, sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language! Prologue, Chapter 2

The souls you left behind

Calling Y/N the new member of huntrix was both wrong and correct at the same time, she still sang by herself, but started to release a lot of songs with the girls, and that was enough for the fame of both to increase.

She not only was a great singer, she was great at composing and writing, she made up song for both, Huntrix and her, loving the recognition it got her.

Pop/Stars was just the begining, she wrote more and more, ironically, More was the next song she wrote, inviting a chinese singer that was also rising up on the industry, making it one of the biggest hit on the charts.

Tonight Huntix had an important show, it would be the last before taking an important break that they needed reaaally bad.

“Everyone look alive.” Bobby, the manager of the group, said to the concert staff backstage making sure everything is perfect for the performance of the group. 

“All right. Looking good over there. Okay. Ready? Ready. But where are the girls?” Bobby, double checked everything around the arena and looked on his phone to see any updates from the girls. 

“What? What? Where are they going?” Only to see on his phone that the plane of Huntrix was going out of track on its destination. "Y/N! Did the girls told you something??" Bobby kept freaking out, searching the mentioned girl.

"I think they just might have problems." Y/N called the girls, and they answered quickly.

"Hi Y/N!" The tree girls greeted her with a smile, then Bobby as he appeared on the screen too. "Hi Bobby!"

"Yeah, hi! Uhm, what are you doing?" Y/N passed her phone to Bobby, just leaving to backstage and prepare some stuff, she already knew what might happen. "We're about to eat our preshow ramyeon." Rumi turned the phone to show the food they had on their jet.

"Pre-show? What about the show-show?" Suddenly, the phone was stealed from him from some fans, and he foughted to have it back.

Then Y/N appeared again, helping Bobby to have the phone back and also talking with the girls. "Hey, need some help opening?" She quickly appeared on the screen, to which the girls nodded.

"Yeah, I think we've got a plague." Mira turned to face the flight attendants clearly annoyed.

"We owe you one!" Zoey smiled brightly to then end the call.

"So?" Bobby stood aside from her, trying to calm down, if Y/N was calm it was probably a good thing.

"I'm going to open the show, don't overthink, 'kay Bobby?" Y/N went straight to the stage. "Please, put on the track." She talked to a staff behind Bobby, he only nodded, and encouraged Y/N.

The fans were screaming in excitement, they had expected her to be there, yes, but not that soon, and as the final note rang out she signaled to the sky, noticing the figures of the main evente and calling for the public to also look at them.

"Look up at the sky, I present to you, Huntrix!" With that, a cloud of smoke raised in the area, from which a demon emerged falling between spectators, along with the girls on stage, interpreting "How it's done." Zoey quickly killed the demon, making it go 'puff' and explode into confetti, pleasing the fans.

As Rumi reached the highest note, they could see golden in the Honmoon, smiling excited as their goal seemed so close. The rest of the concert went normally, the first songs were the ones that shared with Y/N, after that, she leaved the stage to take a break.

She was tired, she got rid of Gwi-Ma, yes, but somehow she kept hearing voices, not from her mind, it was like the demons that the Huntrix girls slained runed to her, to find another demon on the realm to rest.

Y/N was not a normal demon, that's for sure. She actually devoured souls, but probably not like Gwi-Ma did, or at least she wasn't really sure about that, perhaps he did hear the agony and enjoyed it.

So yeah, that's exactly what happened to Y/N, somehow she fed herself by demons, unlike whatever she thought and told the hunters- It was like they knew what she was, and didn't wanted to let her go, remembering all she was before even becoming a demon, she didn't want that, she tought she would forget, and yet, the more she leaved all behind, the more it seemed to chase her.

The concert finished, and she reunited with the girls after they left their staff behind.

"Hey Y/N!" Zoey went to hug her tightly, being followed by smiles of the other two.

"Thanks for saving our ass, the concert could go wrong without you." Mira patted his back. "No problem, I'm glad to help you." Y/N pulled apart from the hug, the girls started to walk away to the car that would leave them on their penthouse.

"Do you want to come over with us? We'll be having an important meeting with our couch." Zoey jumped happily next to the girls.

"I wouldn't like to bother you, thanks." Y/N brushed off and keep walking behind them. "Also, I have some stuff to do, I need to write some things and then just sleep."

"But I thought you didn't need to sleep?" Zoey tilted her head slightly, being followed by Mira.

"When I hadn't take a break for days I do need to rest." Y/N sighed and waved at them as she saw how they got into the car. "But have a nice rest on your couch." She chuckled.

"Okayy, be safe!!" Zoey said already on the car, after a bit losing track of their friend.

"I'm a demon, I think I can take care of myself." Y/N turned into a shadow, starting to roam through the city.

She did'nt lie to the girls, she was in fact tired, but everyday she did a patrol just to be sure that demons weren't around.

This world was now hers to protect, and it was just because she accepted to be with the hunters, if not, god knows what would have happened.

And suddenly, she felt a presence. No, not one, five. They were demons for sure, she could sense them, and even as a shadow, she knew they could see her too, they were just like her, humans with deals to seal.

"I know you're watching me." Y/N stopped and showed her human form, her eyes shined with that golden light as she searched for the ones behind that presence. "Show yourself." And as she barely turned around she found them, five male demons standing in there, their patterns shining just like their eyes, she was basically surounded, all because she let her guard down.

Shit.

Ngl, I improv half of this cuz I started to disociate through it, I'm so sorry if there are errors, I really tried my best to make it have sense :'v

Umm, I don't know, let me know if you liked it or not! I''l try to get my writting habilities better, I'm not perfect at english grammar T-T

Taglist: @just-set-things-on-fire, @gremlinartstudio, @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone, @katzline

[shouyuus]

just a some food for thought i wanted to share with u! but skincare with vi im just saying i think she'd look cute with one of those scrunchy headbands with cat ears on them

(bonus points if she lets u apply said skincare - she has this idk,, little smug smile on her face bc of the close proximity and goes, "whats the matter, doll?" HFJSJFH)

i shall take my leave ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

yes okay but this with college roommate!vi before you guys get together so there's all this unresolved tension --

sfw, vi-shaped

"what are you putting on my face now?"

"hold still! it's a brightening serum --"

"any brighter and i'll start to reflect the sun --"

"vi! the serum is gonna drip!"

vi laughs, biting her lips as you lean forward to slather a thick layer of gooey, transparent serum onto her face. she crinkles her nose as you smooth your palms over her forehead and her nose, grumbling when you get too close to her eyes.

"okay, are we almost done?"

you roll your eyes, though you can't help the smile blossoming across your lips. vi's gaze flickers down and back up again as she goes still.

"just a few more things," you say, reaching for the eye cream.

"and what's this one do?" she asks, eyeing the tiny daub of cream. you sigh, holding it up to show her, trying your hardest not to be distracted by the fact that your nearly sitting in her lap, your legs bracketed on either side of her thighs, her palms gently keeping you steady at the bend of your waist.

"it's an eye cream," you say, by way of an answer.

vi scoffs, "my eyes are just fine, thanks."

"well yeah, you have just about the most gorgeous eyes ever -- but this helps with dark circles and such --" you break off. the air slips out of the room as quickly as a scolded child, and in the stifling, vacuum quiet, vi licks her lips.

"think my eyes are gorgeous, do you?" her voice is lower, husky the way a chain-smoker's might be, except you know that she hasn't smoked in a hot sec because it's competition season. still, the effect it has on you is embarrassing and immediate.

you try to cover for it with a long-suffering sigh.

"d-doesn't everyone?"

vi cocks her head, her eyes bright and sharp and altogether much too focused on you.

"sure," she answers easily, and there's that signature drawl, the heartbreak-twang that has, in fact, broken many a heart in it's time, but to have it directed at you --

"but i don't care about everyone else right now."

you breath hitches; you try to swallow, fail, and nearly tip back as you fight for some kind of foothold to keep yourself steady.

vi's arm loops around your middle, catching you, easy as anything. she presses you back into her -- chest to chest, your legs on either side of her hips.

"i just care about you."

the noise you make is unprompted, a tiny little moan right at the back of your throat that rakes shivers down the entire length of vi's spine.

it makes her fingers curl into your waist, squeezing for a single second before she catches herself and loosens her grip.

you gasp, steadying yourself with your hands on her shoulders.

"i --"

"sorry --"

you and her both freeze, caught amidst the strangeness of the moment. and then, like a bowstring drawn too taut -- the tension snaps, and you both topple into laughter. you, falling into her, her holding onto you.

"you were saying about the eye cream," she prompts, grinning up at you, even as the pair of you readjust and she looks back up at you with a sweet, open smile.

you blush, biting your lips as you reach down to daub the cream onto her skin, "i was saying -- it helps with dark circles and inflammation -- so you'll look like you got a good night's sleep for once."

you pin her with a look; vi only grins.

you almost hiccup as she leans forward a few inches.

"what's the matter, doll?"

you huff, reaching for a facemask and tearing the plastic open with your teeth. vi watches with raised eyebrows.

"last step -- the facemask."

you laugh gleefully as you open up the mask and drape it over her face. she blinks, nonplussed by the sudden addition of an entire wet paper towel to her face.

you smooth your fingers over the flap for her nose and seal the edges around the sharp cut of her jaw.

"there. all done!"

vi rolls her eyes as you hop off of her lap, wiping off your hands.

"damn, all that flirting, and what do i get? a wet towel in the face."

you tut, "a very expensive wet towel," you correct, to which vi attempts to make a face at you, hindered by the fact that most of her face is covered by the mask.

you giggle, leaning back to admire your handiwork.

"so. do i get to do you after?"

you nearly trip on your way to put your skincare things away. you whip around to find vi leaning against her bed, one leg straight, the other propped up, her arm dangling carelessly from her knee. you wonder who on earth gave her the right to look so damn hot all the time.

"w-what?"

vi's smirk is evident, even from beneath the thick, wet facemask; her eyes glimmer as she looks you over with dark, ravenous eyes.

"after this is done," she motions to her face before her finger swivels towards you, "do i get to do you?"

[meeep-morp]

I like this theory.

I do think that the creepy walk is an act, probably just to spook us, and maybe scare us off from continuing the game (like c'mon-- there's gotta be at least one person who panic quit at the end of chapter 1 or 2). But I also like the idea that it's also meant to be a form of misdirection. Maybe it's both.

I'm actually very willing to accept the intentional act theory, because one of the big things that bothered me about the ending of chapter two, was that yes, it's implied that Kris slashed the tires of Toriel's car to prevent anyone from leaving. But I've been hesitant to believe that because how in the hell did that sliw, shambling lil shit make it all the way around the house, slash the tires, AND make it back inside before Toriel noticed? It seems like the answer is that they didn't, at least not while walking like that.

I can see them doing the creepy walk specifically to throw us off, like I was. "There's no fucking way they could've done that! Have you SEEN this fucker try to walk around without their soul? They can barely keep themself upright, let alone run!"

That being said, I don't think it's entirely an act. Rather, I feel like it might be more of an exaggeration of the pain and weakness they feel without the soul. I mean, yes, they're clearly still being performative in order to seem much more creepy and weak and zombie-like than they actually are, but I also think that this performance is heavily inspired by the truth.

I mean, op, you mention yourself that Noelle points out weaknesses and shakiness in Kris's voice, and if Kris had recently... expelled us, that'd make sense. If my memory's correct, then every time we've seen Kris remove their soul, we watched their whole body shake, and we specifically hear the sounds of damage being taken. Maybe the teeth gnashing in the chapter two bathroom scene was them being a bit extra, but I think it's still clear that the process of removing their soul places a lot of strain on their body. Maybe they're not exactly weak because they're soulless, but because they just removed it a few minutes ago.

Another thing I want to point out is that yes, I don't think we entirely get to figure out what happens when Kris is without us for too long, but I do know that if you wait around when you first spot them making chocolate milk, they'll slowly slump over and eventually seem to pass out after a few minutes. I didn't see anything beyond the "faint", because that was when I was like, "aight, that's enough, it's gone too far, let me back in," but I was straight up jumpscared by how suddenly they "woke up" and quickly leapt at the soul. I've been wondering for a while how the fuck they realized I was there, and I was writing it off as some sort of magic thing where they could simply just psychically sense it, but that still doesn't explain how sudden that switch was.

And so this theory makes me wonder... what if Kris was pretending to faint. What if that "Kris...... Your soul......." line from Mysterious Phone Voice wasn't concern over Kris's health, but rather them saying, "Head's up Kris, your soul's watching." I mean, it's pretty clear that Mysterious Phone Voice has some level of omniscient-type knowledge (probably through hidden cameras and tapped phones and shit), so it's not far fetched that they knew we escaped the closet and were spying in on Chocolate Milk Time (TM).

And if it's true that they warned Kris about us, and if Kris has been acting weaker in order to mislead us, then yeah, of course they would pretend like their body's failing them. Actually-- I'll go even further and say that it wasn't just to make us think they're weak when they're soulless, but rather that that specific moment was the Mysterious Phone Voice and Kris working together in order to draw us out into the open, just so Kris could catch us and put us back in time out. Because nimble as they are, they likely wouldn't be able to grab us from the vent; we'd get away too quick, and Kris simply just can't fit in there like we can. I think even Mysterious Phone Voice saying, "Kris... without soul.... you'd...." might've been a part of an act.

I also think the fainting thing was an act because at first they could barely say awake long enough to make and drink a glass of chocolate milk, but after we get put back in time out, not only are they perfectly able to make another glass, but they're also able to play the piano for eight minutes, and then, after waiting long enough to get all the secret dialogue for the basement power outage scene, they STILL have enough juice left to fucking snipe us with a puck, and beat the shit out of us with a hockey stick?! Yeah no something ain't adding up. Even if we take out the time it took for me to listen to the entirety of the piano playing, and me staying completely still in the basement for like-- 5-10 minutes, and me staying still for 10 minutes after the two left me alone upstairs (I was secret hunting, and I wasn't about to disobey Susie's orders), it still wouldn't make sense.

Final thing of note, when Kris finally got us back in, they kinda stay down for a few seconds, and they shake a couple times. When we're able to control them again, we can only get them a few steps before they collapse for a second. I don't think that was an act. I think they might've been in a weakened state the entire time they're soulless, and I wonder if the longer they spend one way, the more taxing it is to change it (so the longer they spend without us, the more strain their body goes through when putting us back in, and vice versa).

But yeah, those are my thoughts on this. I do think Kris is naturally in a weakened state without their soul, but less shambling zombie weak, and maybe more like pulling an all nighter without coffee, or 3 days into a fast (speaking of which, that's another explanation for Noelle's weak voice comment, and the momentary collapse after Kris gets us back in. We can't eat light world food for Kris, and tbh, I'd also eat an entire pie in one sitting if I hadn't eaten in a few days, and then an eldritch demon thing made me run around everywhere all day, making me even hungrier. Kid could simply just be malnourished with POTS, and they stood up too fast after getting us back in their body, causing them to actually almost pass out for realsies). Mostly functional, but suboptimal.

...I actually like the "Kris's soul is strong enough to sustain their body, but without it, the symptoms of malnutrition hit them hard and fast, and that's the real reason why they seem weaker when soulless" theory. I doubt that's actually cannon, but I might just headcannon it.

Anygay-- this got off track. Thanks for reading my ramblings. Farewell, until we meet again.

The interesting thing is…. from the glimpses of SOUL-less Kris we saw in Chapter 1 + 2, it was notable how…. strangely they seemed to move. We saw them walking with a sort of zombie-like gait that maybe implied they weren’t in full control of their body still, or maybe just that they were in immense pain.

It led to a lot of people speculating that Kris does need a SOUL to some level. Maybe the SOUL is Kris’ but we’re a foreign entity that has taken it over, or that Kris’ original actual SOUL has been removed and replaced with us. If Kris needed the SOUL to live, that would explain their slow, deliberate movements and also why they keep putting us back inside despite clearly hating being under our control.

So now, with Chapter 4 giving us a much better glimpse of SOUL-less Kris doing stuff… it’s notable that they seem… fully capable of moving ‘normally’. Angrily, but normally.

Even when they do the whole Creepy Zombie Walk thing they are notably faster than they seemed to be in Chapters 1 + 2

They can do things that require fine motor skills, focus and swiftness like playing the piano, handling glasses, and beating the shit out of us with a hockey stick and it's all animated as smoothly as most other Deltarune Animations. Not really implying effort or stiffness the way that original Creepy Zombie Walk animation did.

And while Susie only gets a brief moment to interact with SOUL-less Kris in the Normal Route

Noelle has prolonged interactions with them in the Weird Route (both on-screen in Chapter 4 and off-screen in-between Chapters 2 and 3) and... while she does note that they sounded 'weak and shaky' and obviously their behavior seems weird on account of the whole 'traumatized by the Unkillable Evil Time-Demon only they can see" thing

... There's nothing to really indicate that there's anything outright unnatural or 'zombie-like' about the way Kris moves and interacts with her while SOUL-less. Since this is the Weird Route, Noelle even note this is the most natural and Kris-like they've acted in the last few days.... until we take over again.

And now we know they can go without the SOUL for a fairly prolonged period of time. The Ominous Phone Voice of Probably Carol does tells them they need the SOUL, it seems unclear why.

So… what that means for SOUL-less Kris’ behavior before? It’s possible that even if Kris can operate without a SOUL, it still hurts like hell. So right after tearing out the SOUL they are in Maximum Pain and it's hard to ignore, causing them to move in a struggling and slow manner. But the more they go without it, they kinda get used to it and the pain fades into the background - allowing them to do stuff more-or-less normally.

(Basically Kris has Chronic Pain but the only Painkiller that works for them is Demonic Possession)

…Or, knowing Kris, maybe this… was all an act. They were only behaving like This because they knew we were watching. It is pretty notable that they walk around normally in the Holidays' Kitchen while we're eavesdropping on them and only swap to the Creepy Walk Animation once they notice us....

Maybe this is an act, either to make us underestimate the things Kris could do SOUL-less… or because they’re a little teen Edgelord so they just enjoy playing up the whole Soulless Zombie thing when they have a chance.

[my-castles-crumbling]

chest - july 2 - black brothers - trans!regulus (anon request) - @black-brothers-microfic - word count: 282

“Is it on right?” Regulus asked anxiously, turning his torso left and right, staring at Sirius with desperation, like the other boy held all the answers.

Sirius, however, just scrunched up his face and tilted his head from side to side. “I…I think so?” he answered, obviously unsure.

“You think so?!” Regulus screeched, panic bubbling up in his stomach as he threw his hands in the air. “It’s not Arithmancy, Sirius, it’s just–just clothes, I–”

“Shhh!” Sirius shushed him, fear in his eyes. He made his way to Regulus’s bedroom door, pressing an ear to the wood, listening intently. After a moment, he pulled back. “You have to be quiet, Reg! If Mama hears–!”

Regulus sighed. “I know. I just…Is it working?” He tried to hide the fear in his voice, but he couldn’t. The truth was, he didn’t want to look in the mirror. What if he gazed at his reflection and could still see his chest curving out?

“Yes,” Sirius replied, much more confident this time. “Go look. I promise, you’ll like it.”

Stomach churning, heart racing, Regulus nodded and walked over to the mirror, eyes on the ground. When he finally chanced a peek upward, his entire body seemed to fill with air, a gasp punching from his lungs.

“I–” he choked out, looking toward the binder over his chest, a smile stretching over his lips.

“It’s good?” Sirius asked, grinning, from the door?

Regulus had no words.

Tears in his eyes, he turned to his brother, the euphoria still making him feel like he was floating. “Thank you,” he murmured. “For buying it for me. For…caring about…”

But Sirius just shrugged. “You’re my brother,” he smiled. “Of course.”

[tokoyamisstuff]

Hwang In-ho x gn Circle Guard! Reader

Why did it take 6 months until the Frontman gave 222's baby to his brother?

just a quick drabble from the top of my head, idk it's 2am leave me alone

"Take off your mask."

A shaky breath escapes your lips while doing as you were told, sweat still dripping from your forehead from earier labour.

Now that the games have ended and the protocol for erasing all evidence has been completed, you assumed it was about time for the usual: One last, passionate moment spent together before you and your superior would part ways for yet another year.

Almost automatically, you fondle with the zipper of your suit, about to present yourself for him like so many times before.

"No" he stops you immediately, raising his hand in a rather appeasing than commanding manner. "Don't."

Before you could even react, the man turned around, fondling with a piece of furniture you didn't recognize despite being invited to his quarters on the regulary.

And then, out of the black box no one would assume was a bassinet, he took the last thing you'd expect to see ever again.

"Is that-"

"Yes, it is" he answers the obvious, beckoning you over while cradling the newborn in his arms with a tenderness you weren't aware he was capable of.

For a while the two of you would remain like this, standing besides each other as you undeservingly watched in awe of this peaceful innocence born in the midst of sin and despair.

In-ho observes intently how your eyes light up when the baby's little fingers wrap around yours, feeling the corners of his mouth etch into a smile he had long since forsaken.

Many questions were burning on your tongue, most of them concerning the child's future, but also about the Frontman himself that remained an enigma to you even after all those years. Because as intimate as your relationship was, it was also strictly physical, and in all other aspects he prefered to keep a 'professional' distance.

"Did you ever want to have children?"

You blink up at him like a deer in the headlights, unsure whether it was a trick question. After all, he was never interested in your thoughts, or feelings in particular.

"I heard you volunteered to feed her" he inquires further, gently wrapping a blanket around the baby after placing it back into the bed.

Sure, you weren't opposed to the idea itself, but with the circumstances your life had developed, you never truly allowed yourself to even consider it.

"I'm a murderer" you state matter-of-factly, facing downwards in a mixture of shame and bewilderment. "I shouldn't involve myself with anyone."

"Same goes for me" he retorts in his usual callous tone, standing so close that the back of your hand barely touches his. "But I was told to deal with the baby as I see fit."

"So...have you decided yet what to do with it?"

The Frontman's features always seemed as much of a mask as the angular black shapes of his attire, although right now a hint of melancholy slipped right through. "I...have someone in mind. But not yet, not while it's still so dependent."

Before you could even think of a possible answer to continue the conversation, you felt his fingers intertwine with yours, eyes still locked on the baby stirring contently in it's sleep.

"You still live alone, right?" You nod. It's not a question, it's a fact. He knows even the most trivial details about your life outside of this job, and unbeknownst to you he's way more involved than he should be.

In-ho remains silent, chooses not to reveal what's going on in the inside, about how the current games reopened old wounds and got him to question simply everything.

"Just a few months" he squeezes your hand ever so slightly, gaze darting between you and the newborn with a fondness that almost startled you. "I need to settle some other things, so...I could use some help caring for the child."

It sounds like he tries to convince only himself, for the power imbalance between you two made that proposition more order than offer anyways.

Still, here was method to his madness, well aware that you both would inevitably taint this symbol of hope shall you get too attached for too long.

In-ho leans to your height, planting a lingering hiss to your temple before resting his forehead against yours. You crack a meek smile, since this brief imitation of normalcry was the first thing worth looking forwards to in an eternity.

"Alright, then let's...try to enjoy this while it lasts."

[aestherin]

I CAN SEE YOU

track 10: galaxies

’Maybe fan fiction writers were actually onto something.’

That was the only thought going on your mind once you fully processed that your favorite singer was now driving you home, in his well-kept Aston Martin, on his passenger seat.

”Have you replied to my manager yet?”

”Yeah,” you reply as you scroll through your phone. “I just did what you told me, with a few tweaks.”

”And the tweaks are?”

”Well, I don’t want to send him a complete lie, you know. I’m not comfortable with that.” You inwardly wince as you recall the huge lie of a persona you’ve been living. Whether it was your ‘[Name] persona’ or your ‘Sky persona’ that was a lie, you could not tell. “So I just said: Yes, we’ve been talking.”

Scaramouche grins. “Smart.”

It was a witty answer, he admits. You two have indeed been talking. It isn’t at all a lie, but it also isn’t the full truth. You two have been talking, yes. But not about what you should be talking about.

And truthfully, Scaramouche couldn’t care less.

His songs stem from his life. And his life was at rest. 

Before you — the recent enigma that had struck him.

”By the way,” he breaks the silence. Though there wasn’t really any because he obliged you to play your playlist in his car. You didn’t play your own because God forbid he finds out right now that his full discography is in every single one of your well-curated playlists. “How did you even get to the park with all of the stuff you have? Especially that canvas.”

”Oh, I booked a cab because I had a lot of things!”

He hums in acknowledgment before once again glancing at the navigation app that now leads to your place.

‘The heck?’

He stops over to the side. You give him a puzzled look, seemingly still unaware of the reason behind his skeptic glare. “Are you sure this is the right address?”

You slightly lean over, face hovering closer to the screen. “Yeah, why? If you don’t want to go there, I could get off and book a cab, I don’t mind.”

He shook his head. “No, no. That’s not a problem for me. What I mean is, you gave me the address of a hotel.”

“Yes, I did.”

“You said you were staying here in Inazuma for three months.”

”Yes, I am.” 

“You’re staying here—“ he sternly points at the address flashed on his car’s screen. “—for three months?”

You suddenly felt the need to hide — though your knitted sweater wasn’t doing you any wonders like a blanket would — because yeah, that does sound a little too lavish. A five-day stay in that hotel might even amount to a month’s worth of rent!

You turned your head away. And to Scaramouche, it seemed that suddenly, the trees outside looked a lot more interesting to you than him. He frowned.

“I’m not planning to…” You whispered. If he didn’t lower the volume of his speakers, the song would’ve drowned your voice. “...but I just haven’t found a place to stay yet that allows me to lease only for three months…”

“Yeah, that’s kind of a weird term.”

“Mhm.”

His sudden silence felt a little too loud for your liking. Curious, your gaze found its way back to him, only to see that his was focused on the steering wheel.

‘What in the world is he thinki–’

“Say, how much are you thinking to pay for rent?” 

“Huh? Oh! I’m… financially comfortable so —”

His lips slightly parted in realization. “Right. Your family. Plus, you’re a well-known artist.”

Oh.

‘He knows my family.’

‘He probably thinks I’m like them, too.’

“Well,” he says as he starts to gear up again. “If you want, I could probably refer you to my landlord. My sister leased for like two months last time when her house was being renovated, I think he could do the same for you this time.”

Your eyes visibly twinkle at his words.

And for a moment, Scaramouche swore he was seeing galaxies.

Until he forcibly blinks himself out of his stupor. 

I CAN SEE YOU — scara x reader smau

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[puraiuddo]

So I'll preface by saying I'm not a Katy Perry stan and I'm not writing this with the intention of defending her, I'm writing it because the screenshots are so wildly inaccurate and inflammatory that it's making my skin crawl.

I'm begging people to do a second of critical thinking when they see summaries like this and think "wow this seems Cartoonishly Evil. Is it possible this might actually be reaction-bait and not gospel truth?" and the answer is almost always yes.

TL;DR: Katy Perry doesn't make like... a habit of throwing elderly people to the curb????? In fact she's not actually ever done that once???

The new law being argued here is basically "if you're over 75 years old, actually you get One Free Whoopsie after legally selling your house if you decide to change your mind within 72 hours". It was proposed by the family of the 2nd homeowner (the founder of 1-800-Flowers, bro. let's not pretend like this guy is living month by month off his SSI checks or smth), because they argue he was too hopped up on opiates and too mentally declined at 84yo to make an informed decision. When like... it would take substantial mental aptitude to list the house, vet various buyers, and draft the sale prior to actually selling it—all things he did. Or more likely his lawyer did. Which sorta voids the whole idea of his decision being uninformed/unsound/etc when everything would have gone through a lawyer. (and ultimately the court did determine that btw. Perry won that suit.)

And I'm going to be honest, I think it's far, far more dangerous to say people over 75 aren't mentally capable of selling their house just as a virtue of them being 75. That is what will lead to far more financial elder abuse (from relatives who are statistically proven to be more likely to do it than strangers!).

The bill is being pushed nationally by various parties, but the only reason the law is being brought as PERRY is because this particular family has the money to burn (again, backed by 1-800-Flowers fortune) & wants to head the campaign with a flashy name so it gets attention.

And because Perry happened to get caught up in a 1 other suit where she was legally sold a $15m house by the Vatican who had already relocated 5 nuns from the property.

TL;DR part 2: 52 nuns bought a house from a widower with their own money. They turned it into a convent. I guess it then becomes property of the Vatican(??). Convent whittled down from the original 52 nuns to 5 nuns by 2015. Archdiocese then forces them to relocate against their will.

Perry offered to buy. 2 of the 5 nuns googled her and didn’t like the fact she said in an interview one time that she sold her soul to satan for success (like ok fair. nuns.). She met with them to win them over, it went well, and they even said she was “nice” to them.

2 of the 5 nuns still didn’t want to sell to her, in part because they didn’t trust the Vatican to give them money from the sale (also fair). But the Vatican (who again I guess legally own the property?) sold it to Perry anyways for 14m. On the downlow as Perry's sale was pending, the nuns sold it to a businesswoman who wanted to turn it into a hotel and offered them 15m with 100k up front. They accepted in part b/c this deal allowed the property to remain open to the public. Said businesswoman moved in immediately.

Perry & the Vatican sued the woman who bought the house! Not the nuns!! Who were moving anyways!

One of the 2 nuns who didn't want to sell died in court at 89 when testifying on behalf of the businesswoman.

And I’ll be honest here I don’t know all the logistics of house sales (and the article didn’t say) but I imagine it was likely thousands and thousands that Perry put into the sale/real estate agent/fees. And likely she only had the impression that her meeting with the nuns went well with no hard feelings (considering the vatican finalized her sale right afterwards) prior to suddenly having the sale pulled out from under her.

Like I’m not saying Perry couldn’t have taken an L on this one and just let the thing go with maybe a demand for legal fees from the businesswoman for the botched sale.

But like c’mon now with this brain-rot reactionary garbage that Katy Perry is like throwing poor seniors to the curb for fun or smth.

[bloodlineslut]

Imagine Jey being petty during sex after an argument…

gif cred @punksrhea

Warnings: ummm porn with a little plot?, smut smut, dom! jey?

A/N: i think im ovulating idk…

Doggystyle.

It was your favorite position to do with Jey because his thick cock always hit that one glorious spot inside of you just right.

Sometimes he would just let you push back on him, entranced with your desire that caused you to soak him up.

But right now, he was doing it to be petty.

“Ughh…Jey please?” you whined out, wanting him to just grab your hips and thrust more forcefully into you. If felt better when he moved his hips.

“Nah baby. Keep pushin’ back on it.” He wasn’t taking no for an answer and doubled down by providing a smack to your ass which made you squeeze around him tighter.

“Daddy that’s not fa- ooh, you’re so big.” Despite your whines, your body was betraying you by not losing timing with your backwards thrusts.

“C’mon princess. I thought you could do it yourself?” he captured his lip between his grilled-out teeth as he wiped the sweat off his forehead before setting his hand on your waist, but still not taking over.

You couldn’t seem to chase that feeling that was bubbling deep inside of your walls. It was almost as if it was being dangled in front of you then instantly being ripped away.

“Want me to help you baby?” he asked almost condescendingly.

“Fuck yes! Please Daddy?” you begged him to just thrust into you just once, that’s how bad you craved it.

“Too bad mama. Keep fucking me just like this. C’mon.” he smacked your ass again, holding true to his word of not helping you out at all.

You groaned in frustration and desperation, but resumed your actions.

You slowly pushed back, the tension in your working muscles making you squeeze his cock tighter again.

“Shit, princess.” he moaned, licking his hips. “You always this tight for Daddy huh?”

“Yes I am, oh my God it’s so fucking thick…” his girth touched every inch of your vulnerable and pulsating walls.

“Yea, now you need my help. You ain’t need my help earlier baby. Remember that?” he brought it up.

About an hour before the position you were in (no pun intended), you did snap at Jey because he kept saying you couldn’t change your car tire without his help.

You being the stubborn headstrong woman you are, you kept denying him and as a result, you indeed could not change your tire.

“Jey I didn’t mean to- oh shit! Please Daddy, it’s right there. I can’t do it like you do!” you stopped moving and now both of you were still, but connected.

You felt both of Jey’s hands on your ass, kneading and gripping the flesh while spreading you apart to get a better look at himself still inside of you.

“You gon’ let me help you this time?” he asked.

He thrust once into you, just that short-lived burst of pleasure driving you crazy.

You nodded, in defeat and at the mercy of that mind controlling rod that was in between his tatted legs.

“You gon’ stop being bad too?”

You almost didn’t hear him, the blood pumping being deafening in your ear drums.

“Talk to me, princess. How many times I gotta tell you?” his thrusts were spaced out but firm now.

Your moans were louder, filling the room.

“Talkin’ bout you don’t need my help…baby, you’d go crazy without this dick.”

And it was true. when he comes back home from being away for weeks at a time, you jump his bones damn near in the driveway.

His talking while he was making you take all of his dick was turning you on to the extreme.

You folded.

“Okay Jey, you’re right!” you managed to get out in between moans and squeals.

“I know I’m right mama. Don’t nobody else get you this wet…I mean you just creaming everywhere.” he pointed out, looking down at the evidence.

“Tell me it’s mine.” he gripped your hair, pulling it back towards him and making your back arch deeper.

“I-it’s yours. Fuck! I promise it’s yours!” you plead as the tip of his dick kept dragging against that hidden spot that was deep inside of you.

“It’s right there huh? You want me to stop?” he didn’t feel like letting you off the hook just yet.

You ferociously shook your head in disagreement. “No! No, Jey—Daddy please don’t stop. I’ll be g—good.”

“Nah you like being bad. You just be wantin’ some dick.” He aired you out.

“And that attitude better be gone after this.” he sternly told you before keeping you in place as he let you have the unexplainable pleasure until your legs were trembling and you were screaming his name.

[sugxto]

flip the switch - eddie/volt/reader

⋆syn: It's Volt's birthday, and he has a special request for his present.

⋆wc: 4.2k

⋆cw: m/m/afab threesome, bottom volt and top eddie, fingering fucking, rimming, cunninglinus, erotic electrostimulation

⋆notes: reader insert uses g/n pronouns and is not described with feminine attributes. AFAB genitalia, terms used include hole, folds, entrance, cunt and clit. e/v masterlist.

this does include dialogue and references from the final day of their route, so if you haven't finished them, i'd avoid for spoilers. there is also a few sentence description of what Volt's realization outfit looks like - they're not being realized, I just want to use the outfit, which you can see here in high res.

⋆snippet:

Before you can blink, Volt's above you, hands on either side of you, and you shudder at his white hot eyes when he says, in a voice smooth as silk, “I would rather love to fuck you, my live wire.”

Okay, that wasn’t too wei--

“While our Eddie fucks me.”

Oh, fuck.

flip the switch

“I didn’t realize it was actually this big of a deal.”

Eddie cranes his head at your voice, only being able to catch a glimpse of you from his precarious angle atop the ladder. “Ah, hey live wire,” he says as he turns back to his task. “Gimme a minute to finish this, yeah?”

He’s hanging a banner across the top shelf of the bar, decorated with bright, hand-painted lightning bolts and stars across the dark fabric. In a darling, cursive font, it reads, “Happy Birthday Volt!”

You look around the empty bar, see the stage adorned with balloons, the tables strewn with party hats and glitter. The Breaker Box, on any given night, is vibrant, lively, electric, but not often is it bright, with an anticipation in the air for celebration. You like it, you think, it’s different, in a way that makes you feel like a kid again.

You hear Eddie sigh, and you turn to see him lean back, survey his work. He studies the banner for a moment before calling over his shoulder, “Hey babe?”

��Yes?”

“Is it straight?”

“As an arrow, Eddie.”

He huffs as he descends the ladder. “Works for me then.”

You meet him behind the bar after he puts the ladder away, and he gives you a kiss on your cheek before he starts to fix himself a drink. “Want anything?” You nod, accept the cocktail he creates, and you lean against the bar with him. He must notice how your eyes keep flitting to the balloons, to the banner, to the white cake box that sits at the end of the bar, because he takes a long sip of his drink before saying, “It, uh, yeah, is a pretty big deal.”

You look over at him, surprised by the shyness in his voice that you haven’t heard notes of in months. “A big deal, because it’s Volt?” you ask, watching his face, see his brows furrow. “I know he’s a diva, he’s our diva, but surely he doesn’t ask for something like this every year.” You pause when Eddie doesn’t answer, only takes another sip. You ask, a bit incredulously, “Does he?”

Eddie sighs, tilts his head back, his grey eyes staring holes into the bottles behind the bar. “It’s not a big deal for us.” His fingers spin the tumbler in his hand, the liquid sloshing around the glass. “It’s… a pretty big deal to the rest of the house. Holly,” he nods at the banner, “Mitchell,” at the white box, “Stefan. Winnie. Mayor Celia.” He shrugs his shoulders, shuffles his weight on his feet. “It means a lot to them, I guess, having someone in the house that was actually… born.”

You blink, the connotation his words registering, aware of the silence that’s growing between you and Eddie, but he seems to pay it no mind, taking small sips of his drinks. Your brows furrow, and you turn your body to face his, steady yourself with one hand on the bar, before you finally ask, “Volt’s… the only one with a birthday.”

It comes out a bit more like a statement than a question, but Eddie nods all the same. “Yeah. Birthday, ‘sparked into existence’ day, whatever you wanna call it.” He puts a hand out in front of him. “There was a time before Volt.” He makes a sweeping arch with the hand. “And then, Volt was here.” Finally, he turns his gaze to yours, his lightning brows arched on his forehead. “That’s as close as we can get, I guess.”

“But what about -”

“Days they joined the house? Dates of manufacturing lots?” Eddie cocks his head, and you can’t quite read the look in his grey eyes, though it almost seems amused. “That doesn’t apply to all of us.”

Us?

Your lips fall open, words stuck on your tongue, and now you’re really, really studying Eddie’s face. “Eddie,” you finally manage, and his brows raise even more, expectantly. “How old are you?”

He chuckles, softly, and raises the glasses to his lips as he asks, “How old’s the house?”

“I… don’t know.”

He nods, the smallest of smirks on the corners of his lips. “Then, I don’t know. Like I said, it’s not so simple for all of us. You wanna ask River how old she is? She’s fucking water, live wire.”

Huh, you think. Guess that was true. 

He finishes his drink, sets it on the bar, and crosses his arms as he turns to face you. “Like I said. He and I would be more than happy to treat it like any other day. Well, maybe me more than him. But the others like…” he pauses, and you can see the wires connect in his mind as he finds the right phrase, “they like the idea that, we could create something. Create life.”

You nod. “But,” you ask, quietly, “can they?”

Eddie inhales deeply, his chest rising before letting it out, heavy through his nose. His own voice is quiet now too. “I don’t know that either.”

You’ve never asked about where Volt really came from, outside of the cursory explanation Eddie had given the night of the reset. That Eddie had split himself, made Volt out of necessity, their very essence comprised of something that powered both of them. “Sparked into existence,” was how they always phrased it, and they never offered more than that.

“But you did.”

Eddie’s quiet at that, but he nods. “Yeah. I did.”

“How?”

Eddie groans, and he rolls his eyes, exaggerates it, before running a hand through the coils of his hair. “I knew one day you’d ask me that. And live wire, I’ll tell you what I tell everyone else.” He points a finger at you, a sparkle in his eye. “That I. Don’t. Know.”

You blink, immediately confused, feeling the gears in your brain try to process. “What?”

“I don’t know how I did it.” He throws his hands up in surrender before dropping them to the bar, leaning against the cold, curved wood. A small veil of something falls over his face, almost always, stoic face, making him look more… contemplative. Yeah, that’s the right word, you decide. “I just… remember the pain. How frayed I was, a fucking dead man walking. And I thought, if I could just,” he gestures with his hands, like tearing a paper, “rip it out of me, split myself off from what was holding me back from doing my literal fucking job…” his hands turn to fists, and he studies them for a moment before dropping them. “I remember wanting, needing that with every electron inside me. And then, there was just this flash of white light. And I woke up,” he nods his head towards the back room, “to a white eyes staring at me.”

You’re quiet, a bit unsure what to say, and waiting to see if he speaks again. You reach out to touch his arm, wanting to be near him, and he settles into your touch, grey eyes finding yours, and a soft smile on his lips.

“Sorry it’s a bit anticlimactic,” he says with a small laugh. “But I’m not harboring any secrets on how household objects can procreate under my sleeves.”

You smile too, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You hear, in the back of your mind, something else they’d said that night - “we’re not one thing, but we’re not two things, either.”

You turn the memory over in your mind, working out how to phrase your next question. You swallow, purse your lips, then say, “Eddie, I don’t want you to be freaked out by what I’m gonna ask.”

He cocks a brow, and a corner of his mouth twitches up, and you see a flash of his canines. “Alright.”

You steel yourself for whatever answer he gives. “What is Volt, to you?”

Eddie licks his lips and studies your face. You see him catch your implication, and he takes a deep breath. “I can tell you what he’s not. He’s not my brother, and he’s not my kid, if that’s what’s suddenly worrying you. Though your timing is a little late in asking that.”

You fight how your eyes want to roll. “But he’s something.”

His eyes soften, and he worries his bottom lip with his teeth before saying, in perhaps the smallest voice you’ve ever heard from him, “I think… I think he’s my soul.” He must notice how wide your eyes get, how high your brows shoot, because he adds, quickly, “Most, or part, of it, at least. I don’t,” he runs a hand through hair again, tugging slightly at the frayed ends, “I don’t know. But, what I feel, what we feel, it’s… deep. Cut from the same thing. So, that’s my best guess.”

The look in Eddie’s eyes makes your heart swell - it threatens to rip itself out of your chest and throw itself at his feet. It’s a look of pure, electric, love, and you, not for the first time, cannot believe that you are lucky enough to be loved by him. By both of them. Because maybe you knew, deep down, that that would be Eddie’s answer, that there was no other explanation for how they literally completed each other. 

And what a privilege, what a wonder, that they thought you completed them.

You bring your hands up to his chest, press yourself against him, needing him, his touch, and he brings his hands to your face without a word, the two of you fitting together with ease. His thumbs run over your cheeks, hot under his touch, and he asks in a teasing voice, “Did that answer your question?”

“Yes,” you admit, your voice full of more emotion than you were expecting. “I love you. I love you both, Eddie.”

He hums as he smiles. “Yeah? Well, we love you too. And I didn’t even have to make you in a blind fury to ease my suffering.”

You try to smack his chest, but he’s too quick, and his lips are on yours before you can retort. He’s warm, always so warm, and you wonder if he’ll truly make you melt one day.

“Kissing our partner before me, live wire? On my own birthday?”

You break away at Volt’s voice, echoing in the unusually empty club, and your breath catches at the sight of him. His usual vest and wired coat have been traded for a stunning black suit, adorned with golden lightning bolts across the shoulders, and his usual copper cuffs replaced with a few gold bangles. He looks lush, expensive, gorgeous, and so fucking hot.

He chuckles at the look on your face, your slack jaw, as he steps to meet you and Eddie. “See something you like, darling?”

“Hell yes,” you say, at the same time that Eddie says, “Fuck you.”

Volt’s grin is devilish, charming, electrifying. “Later, Eddie dear. We have to entertain before I can open my presents.” As he says it, his white eyes rake over your body, taking in every inch of the glam ensemble you’d thrown on for the party, and he licks his lips. “And I think I’ll take my time unwrapping them.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie grumbles, though his eyes sparkle, and he pecks your forehead. “Now I gotta get changed, everyone’ll be here soon.”

He takes a step to leave, but Volt shoots him a teasing look as he blocks him with a hand. “Ah ah, as I said, the birthday boy is lacking in kisses.”

“The ones I give your dick this morning not count?” 

You can’t contain your laugh as, shocked, Volt lets him pass, Eddie not even giving him a glance back. But you stop, immediately, when he turns his attention back to you, and the look on his face is both terrifying and exciting as fuck.

“Fine,” he purrs. “I’ll just have to get my fill from you, then.”

When Eddie comes back downstairs, he has to tear him off you, has to repeat over and over to Volt that no, just because it was his birthday, he still could not eat you out on the bar.

You’ve never seen the Breaker Box as full as it is for Volt’s party. Nearly everyone is here, packed together around the tables, sitting on the edge of the stage, primed with champagne and a charge of excitement you’ve not seen them buzz with before. Volt greets them all with ease, like he was made to mingle - you wonder, actually, if he was. You help Eddie behind the bar, knowing this sort of thing isn’t his forte, though he doesn’t look as fatigued as you expected, even as he serves cocktail after cocktail, as Mitchell grills him on the origin of their citrus, or as Barry talks a mile a minute. 

Mayor Celia makes a small toast, tells a story about how everyone remembers the shock (she gets laughter at that) of Volt’s arrival, and how he truly brings a warmth, an ease, to the house. You and Eddie are with him as she speaks, and after the Cheers!, he kisses you, then Eddie, to whoops and hollers, before pulling both of you onto the dance floor.

It’s late when the crowd finally thins out, and you’re playing some incomprehensible drinking game with Parker and Rainey when Eddie announces last call. Volt’s with him behind the bar, chatting with him while he has yet another slice of cake, and your heart swells again when you glance over at them, in awe of how easy and how right everything is. Volt, ever observant, must feel you looking, and he throws a wink over at you that makes you blush.

When finally, finally, the club is empty again, the three of you are sat at the bar, your bare feet thrown over Volt’s lap, your head resting on Eddie’s shoulder. Connected. Together.

“Volt,” you say, your voice tired, and he hums as he looks up at you. “Did you have fun?”

He smiles, runs a hand over your leg. “Always, little spark. But,” his touch creeps higher up your calf, “don’t I still have my presents to open?”

You’re all up the stairs in a flash, a trail of your clothes on the steps, all of you a mess of hands, lips, teeth, pulling and petting and just wanting to feel each other, and it’s only because you know them so well that you can feel the difference of their skin on yours - Eddie’s, that hums like a current, and Volt’s, that buzzes with power. You melt under their hands, and suddenly, you’re on the bed, watching them kiss, watching them pull each other’s coats off without even parting. 

When Volt’s lips move to Eddie’s neck, Eddie’s steel eyes find yours, and he keeps your gaze as he wraps a hand in Volt’s hair and says into his ear, “Hey birthday boy, you gonna tell ‘em what you want?”

You hear Volt’s chuckle, muffled against Eddie’s skin, before he stands back up and turns to you, his hand hanging off Eddie’s neck. “Mm, I suppose I should.”

Before you can blink, he’s above you, hands on either side of you, and you shudder at his white hot eyes when he says, in a voice smooth as silk, “I would rather love to fuck you, my live wire.”

Okay, that wasn’t too wei--

“While our Eddie fucks me.”

Oh, fuck. 

“Oh, fuuuck,” you moan, your cunt clenching at the thought, the anticipation, and you press your legs together as tight as you can. Volt’s resulting chuckle only makes it worse. 

“Do you think we can do that for me, my darling?” He coos, dipping his head to your ear, the ends of his hair shocking your skin where it tickles your neck. “For my birthday, hm?”

You moan again at this voice, his lips, his fucking everything, a shiver enveloping your body pinned beneath him, and it takes every ounce of your resolve to nod, to moan a, “yes, yes, please.”

Volt’s tongue licks your ear, and you throw your hands up to claw at his chest as your back arches off the bed. “Very good, little spark. How about,” another lick, another plea from your lips, “I finish what we started at the bar? While Eddie gets me ready for him?”

You nod, but then quickly whimper a yes, knowing you’d get a shock to your skin if you didn’t, and he leans up, finds your waist with his hands, and pushes you up the bed. You curse when he spreads your legs, settles on his stomach, and his eyes glimmer at the sight of you, wet and aching for touch.

You see him bite his lip, and there’s a shock to your clit as his fingers find your folds, and you hear him mutter, in a quiet voice, “Happy birthday to me,” and then you scream, because he feasts.

Your back shoots off the bed, your fingers claw at their sheets, and your ankles lock around Volt’s neck as his tongue works you, expertly, knowingly, and the warmth, the current he creates within you travels to every inch of your body. When you feel his fingers press inside you, your eyes open, needing to see him, but it’s then you notice Eddie’s dark hair at the end of the bed, settled between Volt’s legs, having a feast for himself.

You think it might be the fastest you’ve ever cum, screaming their names, and you hear both of them hum as the legs shake, lightning flashing behind your eyes.

But Volt doesn’t let up, doesn’t slow his fingers, and you feel his breath against your throbbing clit as he pulls away, says, “let’s have another, my darling, as a present, hm?” and your throat is raw as he goes right back to giving you long, slow licks, before his tongue practically starts vibrating around you.

You hear him groan after a minute, and through heavy lids, you watch Eddie lift himself up, run his hands over Volt’s ass, before you watch his fingers slide inside, and Volt’s resulting moan sends shockwaves through your belly. 

Eddie’s titanium eyes pin yours down, and his free hand finds the small of Volt’s back, pressing him down when he starts to arch. You know he can see the tears that are pooling at the edge of your eyes, the uncontrollable shake of your leg, and he fucking smiles - you think you hate him, hate both of them, as you feel Volt’s teeth scrape against you.

“They’re close, Volt,” Eddie hums, his grin showing his teeth. “You gonna make them gush for us, birthday boy?”

Volt’s tongue finds a truly brutal pace, his fingers slipping in and out of you with quick, slick sounds, and he does just that. The lightning flashes again, stealing your breath, and your body goes slack as your orgasm rips through every electrified cell in your body.

When you blink, a moment later, Volt is above you again, peppering small kisses to your collarbones, your shoulder. He feels you stir, and white eyes dart to yours. “You, our spark, are the most delectable birthday treat.” A kiss to your cheek. “Now, tell me. How would you like me fuck you? Like this? Or on your stomach?”

Both are equally appealing, you think, but the thought of him plowing your ass into the mattress does reignite the sparks that the orgasms threatened to drain, so you tell him, with a hoarse voice, “stomach, please.”

You’re flipped by four hands in a flash, and your hips are being lifted, just enough for Volt’s hot, aching cock to find the right angle to your entrance, and he slips inside with ease, coating himself with your own climax as he fills you in one sweet thrust. You both gasp at the feeling, the shock of his skin against you. He steadies himself when his hands grasp your waist, and his lips kiss your shoulder blade when he moans.

You feel, a moment later, his arms quiver, and a curse hisses through his teeth, and you know that Eddie must be fulfilling his end of the deal. Volt rocks his hips into you, groans Eddie’s name, and fuck, maybe the stomach was the wrong call, because you wish you could see.

Somewhere, deep in your mind, a little voice tells you that you can, and you remember the mirror on the armoire across the room, and flip your head.

Thank the fucking stars, it’s the perfect angle.

Eddie has one hand on Volt’s waist, and the other encircles his neck, his face hungry, powerful, savoring every little sound the two of you make, and he thrusts inside of Volt, sending Volt deeper inside of you.

One day, these men would be the death of you.

You watch, transfixed, as Eddie finds his pace, languid strokes combined with harsh thrusts, each in turn making Volt’s cock throb inside you, trying as much as he can to set his own pace, but Eddie’s hold on him not allowing for such freedom.

As Eddie moves faster, Volt loses his grip on your waist, his hands falling to the mattress beside your skin, his muscles trembling with the effort to keep himself up, to keep rocking inside you. The room is filled with moans, curses, and the sounds of skin on skin, brutal, relentless, and you wish it could be this way always.

“F-fuck, Eddie, yes, more,” Volt’s usual collected voice is anything but, he’s burning, greedy, and barely hanging on to his composure, and a silent scream leaves your lips when Eddie complies, your body being thrust further and further into the mattress, and you feel drool spill from your lips on the sheets.

Shocks light up your back, and now Volt speaks to you, nearly pleading, “Give me one more, live wire, give you j-just one, fuck, more.”

And it is his birthday, after all.

It’s Eddie’s tell-tale groans that make the spring inside you start to tighten, but it’s Volt’s whimpers, his pleas, and you feel him pump erratically inside you, that bring you to the peak once again, your walls clamping like a vice around Volt as tears from your mix mix with the puddle of drool beneath your cheek. 

Like a tripped circuit, Volt is next - he nearly collapses above your back as he fills you, one of his hands finding your arm and holding on for dear life, and you wouldn’t be surprised to find a hand-shaped burn in the morning (maybe, in fact, you’d welcome it). His whole body shudders as Eddie groans his name, how good he is, what a sweet birthday boy, until finally, he stills too, coming with Volt’s name on his lips.

When, finally, you’re free from the pile of bodies you all created, one of them (you’re not quite cognizant to register which) pulls you to their bathroom, and again, in the shower, you’re between their bodies, each of you helping to rinse off each other between quiet, slow kisses.

Clean in the bed, a new blanket over you, Volt holds you nearly atop his chest, Eddie on his side as he leans over the both of you, and your heart sings at their touches.

But, there’s one thing on your mind.

“It’s not fair,” you say in a small voice, sleep desperately wanting to overtake you.

Volt stills his hand on your back. “What’s not, darling?”

“Eddie’s the only one of us without a birthday.”

They glance at each other, as if it were the first time they realized it - maybe it is, in their world, Volt is the exception - before steel and white eyes find yours, and Eddie says simply, “Then pick a day.”

You raise your head, flick your eyes between them. “Really?”

“Why not,” he says, and you see the hints of a smirk he’s trying to hide. “If tonight was any indication, they certainly have their benefits.”

You smile, knowing without a doubt that you are the luckiest person in this house. “Okay. Um. Do you have a favorite month?”

Eddie chuckles, love and amusement both swimming in his eyes. “Not at all.”

“Well you’re a big help.” You turn to Volt, that same mixture in his eyes. “Volt, pick a month.”

“November.”

“Why November?’ Eddie asks.

“It’s got a V in it, of course.” He winks, and grey eyes roll.

“Alright, November… third,” you decide. “Cuz there’s three of us.”

Both pairs of eyes soften, their faces beaming. 

“Then that’s my birthday,” Eddie hums, his voice laced with devotion, adoration, pride.

Volt cups his cheek and strokes his stubble with his thumb. “I can’t wait, then.” He smiles softly, looks at you both. “Because I thoroughly enjoyed mine, my darlings.”

He kisses you both, and you settle in together, exhausted, but now, you dream of November thirds to come as well.

[bratzray]

ᥫ᭡Forever Theirs ᥫ᭡

❥ Chapter 2: Interview Phase!

Warning:  Obsessive behavior, Gwi-ma slightly mentioned {phone call}, jealous!Abby, mental tension, stalking 

Synopsis: The day after you meet the Saja boys, you decide to go shopping with Ji-yoo for your new companion Luna, that’s when you bump into Abby at the store, you don’t recognize him at first but Ji-yoo does. There’s tension between you and Abby that you can’t quickly put your finger on but you continue on about your day. Later when walking home you find a poster, stating that a manager position is needed for an idol group but it doesn’t state which one, you call in a schedule your interview, which then takes a interesting turn 

Tag list:  @doodle-with-rhy, @just-set-things-on-fire, @strayharmony943, @nonetheartist, @mazzk1ng

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It was the next day after the crazy encounter that you had with a group you now know as the Saja boys. No matter how hard you try you’re constantly thinking about them, and that crazy feeling you got when you were around them. Trying to push that feeling away you get out of bed to prepare for the day ahead of you. 

After taking a nice long shower, you decided to do your hair and put on a nice and simple outfit. Nothing too complicated, but still looking cute as ever. You pick up your phone and take a couple pictures with you and your new cat Luna, before making a post on your instagram and posting some pictures.

You text Ji-yoo telling him to come pick you up so that you can go to the vet and pet store together before getting some groceries. He responds telling you he’s on the way, so you start putting on your shoes and grabbing a purse big enough for the kitten to lay inside of it. You hear a car horn blaring outside and that's how you know that Ji-yoo is waiting for you. 

“Let’s go, little baby.” you say as you pet Luna before making your way to the elevator. You finally make it to the front of the building as you see Ji-yoo standing outside his car waiting for you to get inside. He opens the car door for you then he closes the door behind you, placing your purse in your lap, you start playing with Luna. 

“Soo, what did you decide to name the little rascal?” Ji-yoo asks as he reaches over the middle counsel to pet Luna. 

“Luna since I found her under the moon.” you say as you smiled at Luna as she purred while Ji-yoo petted her. He hummed in response before starting the car and driving off. 

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On the other side of town were the Saja boys and they were going crazy about the new post that you made on your instagram 

“Just look how beautiful she looks, oh my goodness.” Romance mumbled to himself as he looked at the pictures you posted

“Isn’t that the cat that was outside when we were there?” Abby ask as he also scrolled through the pictures

“Yea dummy, the damn cat followed her home.” Baby said as he continued playing his game on his Ipad 

“Of course you remember because you also followed her home.” Romance said with a snarky attitude before feeling something hit the side of his head. That something being Baby’s bottle that he was drinking out of. 

“Stop fighting you two…” Jinu said as he walked into the room

“I wonder if she’s taking the cat to the vet..” Mystery spoke up before looking at the photos you posted. 

That’s when all the boys paused taking in the words that he just said. It seems like the most responsible thing to do, especially knowing the cat was the stray. They all hummed before they looked deeply into the photos you posted 

“We’re going to the vet aren’t we?” Mystery whispered already knowing the answer 

“Yes.” The other four boys said before getting up from looking at the Ipad and putting their best outfit on to go see you again. 

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While you were walking out of the vet with Ji-yoo, you got that warm feeling again and this time it felt much closer and powerful than the other two times. You tried shaking it off and made conversation with Ji-yoo 

“So, baby girl is healthy but she’s a little underweight.” you said to Ji-yoo as you pet Luna behind the ears, feeling her bite slightly at your finger 

“Yea, which means I’m going to have to spend a whole bunch of money buying everything you need for her.” He said rolled his eyes before taking out his phone to find the nearest pet store 

“Oh please don’t be acting like I’m forcing you to buy anything, if anything I can get it myself I just need someone to carry it.” you replied, an attitude slightly growing in you as you walked off.

Ji-yoo just huffed before following close behind. 

As you continue walking you hear voices somewhat behind you 

“Who is the man with her?” One said in a slight low pitch 

“I don’t know but I don’t appreciate how he talks to her.” Said another 

Right as you were about to turn around to figure out who they were talking about, Ji-yoo pulled you into the pet store. You huffed, annoyed as you were thrown off your footing but you said nothing. You start looking and walking around shopping when you suddenly bump into a brick wall. 

“What the hel..” you say as you rub up and down on the surface before looking up and seeing a man’s face, a beautiful man at that. 

“OH MY GOODNESS!! I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have rubbed on you like that.” you quickly said as you bowed to show your embarrassment, that was until you felt an arm wrap around your waist bringing you back up to make eye contact with said man. 

“Don’t worry darling, this won’t be the only time you cop a feel.” the man mumbled. That same warm feeling that you got before came back again, you feel like you should recognize him but you can’t put your finger on who he was, as you blush slightly at the words he said. He smiles down at you before placing his other hand on your cheek. 

“You’re really as beautiful as I thought you were…” the man whispered before rubbing your cheek. You smile slightly at the compliment before feeling someone tug you back roughly.

“Can we help you?” you know that voice and tone from anywhere. Ji-yoo never really liked when others hit on you but that was more or so because he was like a protective older brother, always making sure that you were safe. 

“You can’t help me but she can” said the man, but you had a feeling these two know each other so you ask 

“Ji do you know him?” you whisper as you look over to Ji-yoo. The face he made back at you made you feel stupid 

“You’re telling me you don’t recognize who he is?” he said, raising his voice slightly. You shook your head no before looking back at the man trying to put things together. The man smiles down at you before glaring at Ji-yoo

“I don’t understand why you’re interrupting the conversation me and this beautiful woman are having…” He said practically growling ask he spoke to Ji-yoo 

“Don’t act like I don’t know what’s up..you’re just trying to play with her feelings and I WON’T let that happen.” Ji-yoo barked back before pulling you away to the counter to pay for the things you were going to get. You wave bye to the man before following Ji-yoo, he waves back before blowing you a kiss. 

You huffed as you followed Ji-yoo to the front 

“What was that all about?” you asked trying your best not to get upset at his protective behavior, but instead of responding he continues to ignore you 

“Ji-yoo, I’m talking to you.” you say, annoyed at him ignoring you. He finishes paying before grabbing you by the arm and rushing you to the car. You finally push your arm out of his tight grasp 

“What is your damn problem?!” You ask raising your voice because you were generally upset at the way that he was acting right now 

“[✮] get in the car.” He mumbles before putting the stuff he brought in the back of the car 

“No I won’t get into the car until you tell why you’re acting like this. That man was nice and kinda cute. You might just be dramatic right now!” 

“[✮] GET IN THE FUCKING CAR!” He yelled which caused you to jerk back and tear up from frustration. You shake your head before opening the car and sitting down, slamming the door behind you. 

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The boys were waiting for Abby to get back from inside the store when they saw what unfolded between you and some man they now hate. It took almost everything in them not to deal with him themselves once they saw tears swell in your eyes 

“I’m going to fucking kill him…” Mystery mumbled as he clenched his fist

Right before they got up, Abby walked over to them. 

“He’s protective…” He said 

“What the hell does that have to do with the fact he just yelled in baby girl’s face?” Romance asked slightly annoyed at Abby’s simple “explanation”. 

“The reason he yelled is because she wanted to talk to me, but he didn’t want her to. He said he knew what I was up to and didn’t want me playing with her feelings.” Abby responded before sitting next to Baby who was on his Ipad 

“What…that makes no sense, what could you possibly be up to and why does he think you’d play with her feelings?” Jinu asked before taking a sip of his milkis. 

“She didn’t recognize me, but he did. It’s just we’re idols so he probably thinks we’re just messing with her…” Abby said finally shaking his head understanding why the interaction just happened, but cannot shake off the fact that he didn’t like how controlling this man can be. Right before he was going to say something, Baby spoke up. 

“He’s her best friend, his name is Ji-yoo.” He said before showing the boys a picture of the both of y’all together, you holding the camera as you both made a silly face in the photo. The boys looked at the photo not liking how close the both of you were to each other 

“Why the hell is he in nearly every picture…” Jinu said before rolling his eyes at the pictures silently wishing that it was him instead of Ji-yoo. 

“Apparently they’ve been friends for years which would explain why he’s in so many photos. It also looks like she used to be a manager for a couple small music artists.” Baby replied before showing the group more pictures from your public instagram. 

“I have the perfect plan, it just requires a printer and a phone number…” Romance smiles before making his way to the car that they came in. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

It’s been nearly 3 hours since you last spoke to Ji-yoo after his little outburst in front of the pet store. It was just you and him in the car since Luna had fallen asleep from being out all day 

“[✮]...” Ji-yoo finally spoke up, breaking the tension between the two of you, but he was met with the same silence he had given you when you wanted to talk. 

“[✮] please. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way but you know how I can get.” he said trying to get you to understand him, but you just huffed in return. You knew he could be protective but cussing at you and ignoring you isn’t the way to address whatever problem he was having 

“[✮]...He’s a Saja boy. They play with girls' hearts, he’s an idol for goodness sake. I just didn’t want to see you get hurt..I just shouldn’t have yelled at you, I really am sorry [✮]...” he said practically pleading with you to finally listen to him and understand that it truly was a misunderstanding 

“I understand your protectiveness, but don’t you ever cuss at me again or it's your head..” you said sternly because you smiled at him. He pulled into the parking space in front of your house when you saw a paper hanging on a light post by the car that read, “Looking for an experienced manager for a new idol group, please contact 03-1240-5896”. You smiled knowing you could finally start working though you did and still do have a decent amount of money saved from your jobs in America. You end up saving the number, planning on calling it later once you and Luna get settled. 

“I’m gonna go take Luna upstairs and open the door so it’s easier to take the stuff upstairs kay?” You said to Ji-yoo looking over your shoulder before making your way into the apartment complex 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

Right as you walked away, Abby walked up to Ji-yoo. Ji-yoo was getting the things out of the car to make things slightly easier to carry inside when he felt a presence behind him. Turning around was when he saw him. 

“Did you fucking follow us here?!” He said, surprised at the fact that Abby was standing right behind him. 

“No, I was taking a walk and recognized you. I wanted to apologize if I had done anything to upset you, I truly like her and I want to be with her” Abby said knowing for a fact that he’ll still be stubborn like he was before at the store 

“I love that for you but she’s someone I value greatly and I won’t let some 개새끼 [son of a bitch] hurt her for some idol fantasy.” he replied before pushing past Abby, carrying the litter box and bed for Luna, right before he could continue walking, Abby picked up the rest of the stuff and raced over to Ji-yoo 

“Please understand that my intentions aren’t to hurt her, cause I wouldn’t be saying sorry to you if I felt like you didn’t have some influence in her life.” He said while following Ji-yoo to the elevator, standing right beside him while making it up to the floor you lived on 

“I won’t believe a damn thing until I see it. I’d be stupid to believe a 바보 [fool] like you.” Ji-yoo replied as the door opened, making his way to your apartment complex. Abby already knew exactly where your apartment was thanks to Baby, but that’ll look a little too creepy

They finally make it to your house, when Ji-yoo knocks on the door and as soon as he does you can hear tussling around the house. You open the door while Luna is hanging from the front of your cardigan, craws digging deep into your skin

“I’m sorry Ji, I know I said I’d be down but she didn’t want to let me go.” You laugh a little though in pain, as you grabbed her off your shirt and placed her on your shoulder. You noticed the man from earlier standing right beside Ji-yoo

“It’s nice to see you again…” You look at him confused trying to figure out who he is since Ji-yoo seems to know him 

“You can call me Abby darling.” He said holding his hand out to you, you gave him your hand and he placed a light kiss on the back of it. You smile slightly as you heard a huff from Ji-yoo when you finally cut the tension between all three of you

“Please come in, I don’t want you standing out here holding all that stuff.” You said as you stood to the side to let the men in. They placed everything down, and Ji-yoo started to unpack everything in the corner. 

“Thank you for helping us Abby.” You said to him smiling up at him as you smiled up at him 

“I’d do it again for you darlin.” He said as he returned the smile you gave him 

“How can I repay you?” You asked ready to take out some money to give him 

“Don’t do that, but I would love to have your number.” He said, smiling down at you as he pulled out his phone. You blushed slightly before putting your number into his phone and leading him out your house. Giving him a quick goodbye, you made your way back to Ji-yoo. 

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It had taken nearly 3 hours to set everything up for Luna but you finally did it. It was a bit late but you still wanted to try your chances with calling that new management position, Ji-yoo had left nearly 30 minutes ago so it was just you and Luna. You got your phone and called the number, you didn’t expect anyone to answer until you heard it. 

“Ahh…how may we help you…” A deep male voice spoke on the other end, your body stiffened like you recognized the voice from somewhere but couldn’t quite put your finger on it yet.

“Um. Yes I would like to apply for the manager position that was posted on the paper…” You said slightly shaken up from the person on the other end 

“Mmmm…What name should I put down for the interview…” The man asked, he seemed very uninterested and sounded angry.

“[✮]-” Right before you could say your last name you get cut off by a ground shaking laugh on the other end of the phone, before you could say anything you hear

“These boys…I knew there was a reason they needed my help and this is why!!” The man continued with his barking laugh before he got replaced by a kind woman. 

She asked your name again, which you gave her and you set up a date for the interview which was now 2 days away. You couldn’t wait, this is your chance to actually work and feel comfortable in your new environment 

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The boys had been sitting around the phone, listening to your sweet voice which was contrasted to Gwi-ma’s deep and intimidating voice. 

It was fine until he heard your name and started barking and that was when they cut the call and replaced him with someone else. The reason they didn’t answer the call themselves is because they were afraid you would recognize their voices so they asked Gwi-ma which seemed like a big mistake. 

“You boys are foolish.” They heard his voice blaring in their heads, unable to escape whatever he had to say to them. 

“Weak and hopelessly in love…foolish boys truly.” Gwi-ma continued to degrade them as he saw them asking for help to talk to their bonded lover as weak and useless. 

“Gwi-ma, we only asked because she could recognize our voices, it wouldn't be completely useless to want the surprise effect..” Romance mumbled before continuing to stay quite as Gwi-ma continued 

“I cannot help you everytime you cannot talk to a girl especially if that girl is bonded to you even when she dies.” He snarled at Romance's comment before huffing, not wanting to continue the conversation, disappearing back to wherever he came from. 

The boys signed, feeling relieved that Gwi-ma finally is leaving them alone 

“Lets remember not to ask him for anything again…” Romance said, annoyed at what Gwi-ma said to him 

Right before the others could reply a demon worker of theirs knocked on the door. Once allowed permission to enter, she talked 

“My lords, she has agreed to the interview process and she’ll be here in the next two days.” She said before turning back around a closing the door 

Before any of them could react, Abby jumped out his seat in excitement. 

“What the heck is wrong with you?” Baby said looking up from his Ipad, glaring at Abby for messing him up while he was playing a game 

“She texted me…” Abby mumbled to himself, he kept repeating the same phase before Jinu came up behind him to see what he was so excited about, that’s when he saw your name at the top of his messages and y’all had begun a conversation 

“When the hell did you get her number?!” Jinu question Abby causing the other boys to jump up 

“You got her number?!” Baby yelled, upset that Abby got it before him

“When were you gonna tell us??” Mystery questioned surprised Abby actually got your number

“WOW! Imagine keeping baby girl from me…” Romance said with a attitude that Abby didn’t tell him that he got your number 

“Yea I got her number when I went to her apartment…” He whispered hoping they didn’t hear him 

“YOU WENT TO HER APARTMENT?!!” The other boys yelled, upset that he went without telling them first 

“Yea..but we’ll see her in two days…” Abby responded, laughing slightly trying to lighten the mood, before feeling at least 20 projectiles being thrown at him at an alarming speed causing him to fall. 

The boys huff but they can’t be mad for long, because they’ll see you soon and once they get ahold of you they’ll never let go

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❥ Chapter 3

[jammy-badger]

*cracks knuckles* @deanmarywinchester I'm so glad you asked! This was a special interest of mine as a kid and I still have all the books so it's my time to shine, baby!

1. Yes you can replicate the meals! They are based off Brian Jacques' parents' cookbooks he read as a kid, and there is also an official cookbook although some recipes are incorrect - the moles are based on Cornish people and Deeper 'n' ever pie is based on a Cornish pastie, but the one shown in the recipe book is a cottage pie at best. My family is Cornish and we make our own pasties and I will not stand for this. Please hit me up if you want me to send them to you!

2. Yes, the milk is made from grass - in the books it's actually referred to as 'meadowcream' and 'grassmilk' and is harvested from grass sap. How do they farm it? See point 5.

3. With so many wandering bands and conquering hordes, usually from outside of Mossflower, is it really surprising that permanent settlements haven't been established outside the major strongholds (Redwall and Salamandastron plus Brockhall and the various otter holts)? In Mossflower we see that Kotir used to be one such major settlement demanding tithe from the Mossflower population that has since fallen into disorder (especially since Verdauga Greeneyes grew too old to rule - I believe this history is actually described in Mossflower but it's been a while). Also, despite being barely canon, the original Redwall book mentions major settlements and towns far from Mossflower. So maybe Kotir was the last great major settlement in the Mossflower region?

4. The bad guys are usually attacking the Abbey because they want it as a fortress and/or to enslave the Abbey population to eat their food (they are all literally 'vermin'), which makes sense given the above point - there's very little in terms of land security and if one wanted to establish control over a region Redwall or Salamandastron are the places to control. They do ask for treasure at times though, and it's usually out of a sense of pure greed and decadence, or for a specific purpose (i.e. for the Silth Queen in Marlfox). If the bands are travelling it's likely that they sustain themselves by robbing settlements and potentially trading elsewhere? It's kind of ambiguous.

5. Food production is probably the biggest inconsistency in the series and I mostly put this down to creative license. Jacques wrote all the food scenes based on his own experience of growing up in wartime with very little food and dreaming of all the things he could eat, so the idyllic Redwall simply 'has' these resources. In-universe, there are scattered independent farms around (albeit barely mentioned, and the major mention was in the first book which is dubiously canon), and also encountered by characters (usually they haven't met these farmers before but it makes sense that they wouldn't comment on seeing local farms they already knew about I guess). Usually they don't know about the farms they encounter while travelling but you can assume that they know about some of them as there is a major road outside the Abbey used by travellers and carts, and the first book also has most people visiting from outside the Abbey so this lends to that theory. But again, probably the most obvious issue in the books. There is an orchard and herbalists are shown to forage outside the Abbey but yes, that's not really enough for the scale of food production in the Abbey.

6. Short answer is there are absolutely cross-species relationships, they just don't get mentioned because Jacques only really mentions relationships when they're related to the lineage of specific characters, and different species presumably can't breed. Or, nobody gets together unless there's potential for kids? The whole structure of official marriage barely exists outside of the first few books anyway and the only interspecies relationships I can think of are presented as 'really good friendships' and two of them are gay couples (don't fight me on this, Durry Quill and Rufe Brush were 100% an item) so yeah I guess they don't have much of a concept of traditional family-making outside of what's needed for population? I dunno, personally as an ace person reading these books as a kid I found it pretty refreshing to have barely any romance present!

7. They're all relative to human size and so are trees etc. Generally speaking 'smaller' species like mice are described as shorter than 'larger' species like otters, badgers and cats, but they're all largely standardly-sized around humans. The first book, again, is a little janky in terms of canon as it mentions livestock (and also THE HORSE which we don't talk about) and potentially the existence of humans, but judging by the scale of fruits suggested in the books (i.e. a mouse being about to pop an entire strawberry in its mouth) I'd say the animals are for all intents and purposes human-sized. They're fursonas basically.

Please ask me about Redwall books!!!!!! And if you want any of the recipes hit me up, I might make some and let you know how they go if you like?

hobbies include: close reading the Redwall series to answer my most burning questions. such as:

- can I replicate any of these delicious-sounding foodstuffs and would they in fact be delicious if I was able to

- corollary to the above: are we just supposed to read “oat cream” and “nut cheese” every time we see the words “cream” and “cheese”? I think so. bc if not, what tha hell are their livestock animals

- what is Society like? I don’t think we ever see a Mouse City or even Mouse Town though we do see castles and obviously an abbey. are we supposed to believe that most creatures are either in wandering bands or these societies based around a single structure (castle/abbey?)

- they appear to have an idea of what currency is (the bad guys always want treasure — maybe just to have, not to sell? but less ambiguous is some dialogue I just read, “acorn for your thoughts?” “you can have them for free”) but again, we never see anyone using money or making goods for the market. is this after the fall of Mouse Capitalism? are the bad guys (the idea of rat pirates gives me a headache, vis a vis the political/economic systems needed to power piracy) raiding preindustrial mouse societies for treasure/meat?

- corollary to the above: the abbey creatures have oats and wheat but we don’t see anybody farming or trading for farm goods on a large enough scale. is the abbey “orchard” really a like an indigenous forest farm of mixed foodstuffs? is that possible if you live in the same place the whole year or only if you travel each season? I have to do some googling

- both the lack of mixed-species families and the idea of mixed-species families give me a headache. has a squirrel never fallen for a handsome otter? what is the culture shock like if you marry into a subterranean mole family?

- this is the least “important” question but this read through I’ve been desperately trying to figure out What Size Everything Else Is. i’ve come to the conclusion that everything other than animals are at mouse scale, given that they can make seaworthy vessels their own size (a mouse sized vessel with real-world-sized waves seems impossible) and pick and eat apples and plums. but so far it seems like they’ve avoided mentioning how tall trees are — like a person compared to a tree or a mouse compared to a tree?

[wonbyyou]

my pretty girl | lee heeseung

heeseung has wanted you for so long, he finally gets to have you.

The first time Heeseung met you backstage after a Seoul music show, his demeanor was pure perfection—polite but distant, a slight nod your only greeting as he slipped past with his manager. Yet, something shifted in the weeks that followed. Small, almost imperceptible things.

You’d be scrambling for a spare phone charger in the crowded green room, muttering under your breath, and suddenly his silent presence would materialize beside you, his own charger wordlessly offered before melting away again.

Once, during a grueling rehearsal, you mentioned offhandedly craving the hotteok from a stall across town; the next break, a still-warm paper bag appeared beside your bag, no explanation given.

Rain caught you unprepared leaving the company building? His large, black umbrella would tilt over your head, him walking you to your cab without a word, his shoulder brushing yours—the only warmth in the downpour.

You chalked it up to his inherent kindness, until you noticed he never offered his charger to the noisy rookies, never fetched snacks for anyone else, and let staff scramble in the rain while he watched dry from the lobby.

The dissonance finally demanded an answer. Cornering him late one evening in a deserted rehearsal studio—mirrors reflecting the city lights bleeding through rain-smeared windows—you blurted it out, voice echoing slightly in the cavernous space.

"Heeseung… why? Why do you do those things? Just for me?" You listed them, the charger, the hotteok, the umbrella, the countless other tiny rescues. "You don’t… do that for anyone else."

He didn’t flinch. His dark eyes, usually so guarded, held yours with an intensity that pinned you in place. The practiced idol mask dissolved, revealing something raw and hungry beneath. A slow, deliberate step closed the distance between you.

Then another. The clean scent of his sweat from practice mingled with something deeper, muskier. "Because," he murmured, his voice low, roughened, stripping away the last pretense of formality, "it's you."

Another step. You were backed against the cool mirror now. "From that first day," he breathed, his gaze dropping to your lips, then dragging slowly back up, "I wanted you. Badly." The confession hit you like a physical blow—shocking, dizzying.

Your breath hitched. He’d been wanting you, all this time? "Couldn't stop thinking about how your laugh sounds," he continued, his voice a velvet rasp that slid over your skin.

"How you bite your lip when you concentrate. How fucking beautiful you look… especially," his hand lifted, fingertips hovering just shy of grazing the soft fabric of your favorite pink mini-skirt brushing your thighs, "in these sweet little skirts and dresses."

A shiver ripped through you. "Every damn time," he confessed, his breath warm against your temple, "I wanted to push them up. To take you right there." His eyes blazed with possessive heat. "Can I kiss you?"

The "yes" was barely a whisper, torn from you by the sheer force of his desire. It was permission enough.

His mouth crashed down on yours, claiming. It wasn't sweet; it was consuming. His lips were firm, insistent, parting yours with a groan that vibrated deep in his chest. His tongue swept in, hot and demanding, tasting you with a desperation that mirrored the coiled tension in his body.

One arm snaked around your waist, hauling you flush against him, while the other slid firmly beneath your thigh. Effortlessly, as if you weighed nothing, he lifted you. Your gasp was swallowed by his kiss as he turned and sat heavily on a padded bench against the wall, settling you firmly astride his lap. Your skirt rode up dangerously high.

"God, you feel perfect," he growled against your lips, breaking the kiss only to trail scorching ones down your jaw. His hands slid possessively up your bare thighs, pushing the flimsy skirt barrier higher, until his palms cupped the soft flesh of your ass through the thin lace of your panties, squeezing hard.

The thick ridge of his erection pressed insistently against your core, separated only by layers of denim and lace. Instinctively, you rocked your hips forward, grinding down against that delicious hardness. A deep groan escaped him.

"You like that?" he demanded, biting down gently on the tender spot where your neck met your shoulder. You whimpered, arching into the sharp pleasure-pain. "Answer me."

"Yes," you gasped, rocking again, feeling him thicken further beneath you. "Feels… feels so good."

"Good girl," he purred, sucking hard on the same spot, his tongue swirling possessively. You could feel the skin blooming under his mouth, knew he was marking you. He pulled back slightly, admiring the darkening bruise forming on your skin, his thumb tracing its edge. A dark satisfaction lit his eyes.

"Pretty," he murmured. "Mine. Gonna leave more. I wanna see them tomorrow… know I put them there." His hands tightened on your ass, fingers digging into the softness as he yanked you down harder against his cock with a sharp thrust of his own hips upwards. The friction was electric, igniting sparks low in your belly.

"You have no idea," he breathed harshly against your bruised neck, grinding you relentlessly against his straining jeans, "how long I've dreamed of having you like this. On top of me." His voice dropped to a sinful whisper. "I wanna see how wet you get for me… I wanna feel it soaking through."

He captured your lips again, his kiss a promise of everything he intended to take, every filthy fantasy he’d harbored finally unleashed upon your trembling body right there.

Heeseung's groan, thick and ragged, vibrated against your lips where his mouth had just left their possessive claim. His hands, large and demanding, still kneaded the flesh of your ass.

The relentless, deliberate grind of your hips against the formidable ridge straining against his jeans drew another low curse from his lips.

He pulled back as his hips surged upwards, meeting your downward slide with a rough, friction-laden thrust that sparked fire in you The denim scraped deliciously against the dampening lace beneath your skirt.

"Tell me," he demanded, his voice rough, his palm sliding down to cup you firmly over your panties. His fingers pressed inward, finding the soaked heat radiating through the thin fabric. A shudder ripped through you.

"Soaked already. Just for me?" His thumb found the swollen nub beneath the lace, circling it with relentless pressure through the damp barrier. "Answer me, sweet thing. You wet because you got me hard under you?"

"Yes," you gasped, the word escaping on a ragged breath. You couldn't stop the desperate roll of your hips, seeking more of that maddening friction against his thumb, against the thick promise beneath his jeans. "Heeseung… yes. So wet." Your admission, raw and needy, seemed to unravel him further. A predatory grin touched his kiss-swollen lips.

"I knew it," he growled triumphantly. His free hand slid up your back, beneath the hem of your soft, girly blouse—one he’d silently admired countless times. His fingers were calloused from dance practice, rough against the smooth skin of your spine as he pushed the fabric up.

"This top… drives me crazy. So fucking cute." He leaned back slightly, his gaze raking over your exposed torso—the swell of your breasts straining against your bra, the dip of your waist. His eyes darkened impossibly.

"Wanted to peel it off you slow… watch you blush." His hand covered one breast, squeezing possessively through the lace of your bra. His thumb grazed your hardening nipple, drawing a sharp cry from you.

"Wanted to taste you everywhere." He dipped his head, his hot mouth closing over the lace-covered peak, sucking hard. The wet heat, the scrape of his teeth through the fabric, sent jolts of pure electricity straight to your core. You arched into him, fingers tangling in his dark hair, holding him closer.

"I've been so good," he murmured against your breast, his breath hot, "keeping quiet… watching you." He switched his attention to your other nipple, biting gently before soothing it with his tongue.

The grinding friction below, the sucking heat above was overwhelming. "But I’m done watching." He lifted his head, his eyes blazing. One hand remained splayed possessively on your ass, holding you firmly against his erection.

The other slid from your breast, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. "I wanna see it," he breathed, his voice thick with lust.

"See how pretty you are for me… dripping because of me." He began to lower his hand, finding the damp fabric still clinging to your pussy. His gaze locked with yours, intense, demanding surrender. "Gonna take what’s mine now. Right here." His fingers pressed hard against your clit.

"You ready? Ready to feel how much I want you?" His thumb pressed down in a slow circle, igniting sparks behind your eyelids. The promise, the sheer need radiating from him, coiled tight in your own belly.

The mirrored walls reflected the desperate tableau—him seated, dominant, controlling your movements, you lost in the sensation, grinding down on the hardness beneath you, your clothes disheveled, his lips bruised from your kisses, your neck already blooming purple where he’d claimed you.

His thumb stilled its relentless circle through the damp lace, but the pressure remained—a brand. That single word, "Right here," hung in the air, thick with intent. His gaze, molten and unwavering, held yours prisoner, stripping away any lingering pretense, any hesitation.

You saw the raw hunger, the years of stifled want finally unleashed. His fingers, hooked in the delicate waistband of your panties, didn’t ask. They commanded. He tugged, slowly, deliberately, peeling the soaked lace down your trembling thighs as you rose from his lap.

The cool air of the studio kissed your exposed skin, a stark contrast to the furnace heat radiating from him, from the core he’d just bared. The flimsy garment caught on one ankle, then fell forgotten to the scuffed floor.

Heeseung’s breath hitched, a ragged sound torn from deep in his chest as his gaze dropped. His eyes traced the glistening evidence of your arousal, darkening with primal satisfaction. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice a low thrum that vibrated through your bones. "All this… just for me."

He didn’t move immediately, just drank in the sight—your delicate folds swollen and flushed, glistening under the sterile studio lights that suddenly felt indecently bright. One large hand slid from your ass to grip your hip firmly, the other pushing your skirt higher, bunching it around your waist like a silken shackle.

"I've been dreaming about this taste," he confessed, his breath hot against you. "Every damn time you wore those little skirts… smelled your perfume… imagined getting on my knees just like this."

And then he did. Heeseung pushed you off his lap, placing you gently on the bench before he lowered himself off, sinking gracefully to his knees between your thighs where you sat perched on the padded edge. He used his hands to push your thighs apart.

The shift in position made you gasp, leaving you feeling impossibly exposed, utterly vulnerable to the intense focus of his dark eyes fixed solely on your most intimate place. His hands slid up your bare thighs, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh just below your hips, holding you open. The first touch of his breath against your slick heat was electric—a warm puff that made your muscles clench involuntarily.

"Heeseung—" Your voice was a strangled whisper.

"Easy now, baby" he murmured, the endearment rough-edged with lust. "Just let me have my fill." And then his mouth was on you. Not tentatively, but with the same claiming intensity as his kiss.

A low groan rumbled in his chest, vibrating against your sensitive flesh as his tongue swept through your folds in one long, flat, devastating stroke. The sensation was blinding—hot, wet, impossibly intimate. He licked you like a man starved, savoring your taste with deep, appreciative hums. "So good," he groaned against you, his breath scalding. "All mine."

He focused then, his tongue becoming an instrument of exquisite torment. He circled your clit with deliberate, swirling pressure, then flattened against it, laving it with broad strokes that drew sharp gasps and whimpers from your lips. His nose nudged against you as he worked, inhaling your scent deeply.

One hand remained firmly on your hip, holding you steady, while the other slipped lower, fingers sliding through your slickness, gathering it, then pressing one thick digit slowly, inexorably, into you. You cried out, arching off the bench as he filled you, the stretch delicious and overwhelming combined with the relentless assault on your clit.

"Tight," he murmured, his voice muffled against you as he sucked your clit into his mouth, applying gentle pressure with his lips while his tongue flickered rapidly over the peak. "So fucking perfect. Taking me so well." He began to move his finger inside you in slow, curling thrusts, searching for that spot that made you see stars.

His mouth never left your clit, sucking and licking with relentless expertise. The deep, rhythmic penetration combined with the focused suction sent waves of pure, molten pleasure crashing through you.

"You gonna come for me?" he asked roughly, pulling back just enough to speak, his lips glistening with your arousal, his finger still working deep inside. His eyes burned up at you from between your thighs.

"I wanna taste it. I wanna feel you shake." He lowered his mouth again before you could answer, doubling his efforts. His tongue became a blur against your clit while his finger crooked upwards, finding that sweet, spongy spot inside you with unerring accuracy.

A cry tore from your throat—high, desperate. Your hands flew to his hair, not pushing him away but fisting in the dark strands, holding him closer as your hips jerked uncontrollably against his face. "Oh God… Heeseung… yes!" The pressure shattered.

Pleasure detonated through your core, white-hot and all-consuming. Your vision whited out as you convulsed around his finger, a flood of wetness soaking his hand and chin as he moaned deeply against you, lapping at your release as it pulsed out.

He didn't stop, didn't relent, riding out every shuddering wave with his tongue and finger until you were a trembling, boneless wreck above him, gasping for air.

Slowly, reluctantly, he withdrew his finger. He pressed one last, lingering kiss to your throbbing clit, then to each trembling inner thigh. He looked up at you from his knees, your wetness smeared across his beautiful, sinful mouth and chin.

His eyes were dark pools of satisfied lust. He slowly licked his lips, tasting you deliberately. A slow, utterly possessive smile curved those glistening lips.

"Mine," he stated simply, the word thick with triumph. "Every sweet drop." His gaze drifted up to the darkening bruise on your neck he'd left earlier, then back to your dazed eyes. "And now," he purred, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper as he rose fluidly to his feet, his erection straining obscenely against his jeans, "you know exactly how I take what I want."

He leaned in, capturing your still-parted lips in a deep kiss, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue—a final, undeniable mark of possession.

The taste of yourself on his tongue—musky, intimate, undeniable—was a brand hotter than the bruise blooming on your neck. Heeseung held the kiss, deepening it until your head spun, his groan vibrating into your mouth as he savored the proof of your climax mingling with his own possessive claim.

When he finally pulled back, just an inch, his breathing was ragged, his eyes burning coals in the dim light reflecting off the rain-slicked windows. Your own breath came in shallow gasps, your body still trembling from the aftershocks, utterly pliant where he held you perched on the edge of the bench.

His gaze dropped, raking hungrily over your exposed body—the skirt still rucked high around your waist, your blouse pushed up to reveal your lace-covered breasts, the damp apex of your thighs glistening openly. A muscle jumped in his jaw.

"Look at you," he rasped, his voice thick with awe and barely leashed need. One hand slid possessively over your hip, fingertips tracing the curve of your hip bone before drifting downwards. They dipped between your thighs, sliding effortlessly through your slickness once more.

You jolted at the renewed contact, still hypersensitive. He chuckled, a low, dark sound. "Still so wet," he murmured, gathering your arousal on his fingers and holding them up for you to see in the neon-striped gloom. "All that sweetness… for me." He brought his glistening fingers to his lips and sucked them clean with deliberate slowness, his eyes locked on yours. The sight was obscenely erotic.

But his focus snapped back lower, his expression hardening with renewed intent. His free hand went to his own waistband, fingers making quick, impatient work of his belt buckle. The sharp clink echoed in the quiet studio. The button popped. The zipper rasped down. He shoved at his jeans and briefs in one rough motion, pushing them down just enough to free his cock.

It sprang free, thick and rigid, the flushed head already beading with pre-come, straining upwards towards you. A choked sound escaped you. He was magnificent—long, thick, veined, the very embodiment of the desperate want he'd confessed. The need etched onto his beautiful face was primal.

"Your turn," he growled, the command vibrating with tension. His hands settled on your hips again, firm, guiding. "Down."

He didn't need to say more. The look in his eyes, the sheer demand radiating from every line of his body, compelled you. You slid off the bench, your legs shaky as you lowered yourself to your knees on the cool floor between his spread thighs. The denim of his jeans was rough beneath your shins.

The heady scent of him—clean sweat, expensive cologne, and the potent musk of male arousal—flooded your senses. Up close, he looked even more daunting. You hesitated for only a heartbeat, overwhelmed.

His hand fisted gently in your hair, not painful, but commanding. Guiding. "Look at me," he ordered, his voice rough gravel. You tilted your head up, meeting his smoldering gaze.

The raw hunger there stole your breath. "I've dreamt about this as well," he confessed, his thumb brushing your cheekbone. "Your pretty mouth wrapped around me." His grip in your hair tightened fractionally, urging you closer. "Taste me, baby. Show me how bad you want it too."

The first touch of your lips to the swollen head was electric. He hissed sharply above you, his thighs tensing. You licked tentatively, tasting the salty tang of him.

A ragged groan tore from his chest. "Fuck… yes." Emboldened by his reaction, you opened your mouth wider, taking just the head inside. The velvety heat of him filled your senses. His hand flexed in your hair, a silent plea for more.

You took him deeper, slowly, letting your tongue swirl around the sensitive ridge beneath the crown. He cursed again, low and fervent, his hips giving an involuntary little thrust. "God… so good," he panted. "Suck… yeah… just like that." You hollowed your cheeks, drawing harder on him, taking more of his impressive length inch by inch until your nose pressed against the dark curls at his base.

He was stretching your lips wide, filling your throat. You relaxed your jaw, breathing through it, focusing on the slick slide of him over your tongue, the guttural sounds falling from his lips.

His control began to fray visibly. His fingers tightened almost painfully in your hair now, not guiding so much as holding, anchoring himself as his hips began a shallow, rhythmic rocking into the wet heat of your mouth.

"Look up," he commanded hoarsely. You dragged your eyes open, meeting his burning gaze through lowered lashes. The sight of you—on your knees, taking him deep—shattered something in him.

"Fuck… seeing you like this…" He thrust deeper, holding himself there for a moment, stretching your throat before pulling back slightly. "My perfect little slut," he rasped, a dark thrill in the words. "Made for sucking my cock."

He thrust again, deeper this time, setting a relentless pace. Your world narrowed to the weight and heat on your tongue, the salty-slick taste flooding your mouth, the scrape of denim on your legs, the tightening coil in your own belly responding to his harsh praise and the sounds of pure male pleasure he couldn't suppress—the sharp inhales, the bitten-off groans, the whispered curses.

"Gonna come," he gasped suddenly, his voice tight with strain. His thrusts lost their rhythm, becoming shallow, urgent jerks. His fingers were rigid in your hair. "Gonna fill that sweet mouth… gonna mark you inside too…"

With a guttural cry that echoed off the mirrored walls, he surged forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt as hot spurts pulsed down your throat. You swallowed instinctively around him, the act triggering another harsh groan from him as he emptied himself completely.

He held himself there for several shuddering seconds, panting heavily. Slowly, gently, he eased out of your mouth. You stayed on your knees, breathing hard, lips swollen and glistening. He looked down at you, eyes heavy-lidded and sated, yet still burning with that dark possessiveness. A bead of white escaped the corner of your mouth.

He leaned down, his thumb catching the stray drop and bringing it to your lips. "All mine," he murmured again, pressing it back against them. Then he hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to his. He kissed you deeply again, tasting himself mixed with your own lingering sweetness on your tongue.

It was a final, intimate claiming.

His fingers traced the bruise on your neck again, then drifted down to brush possessively over the damp silk covering your breast. "Not done with you," he murmured against your temple, his voice thick with exhaustion and lingering lust. "Not nearly done."

The last thing you registered before the world tilted was Heeseung’s low chuckle vibrating against you as he slowly pushed you down onto the floor, his mouth on yours again.

The hardness of the floor was a stark contrast to the heat radiating from him as he settled between your thighs, knees pressing yours apart with firm insistence. The kiss finally broke, leaving your lips swollen and tingling, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you looked up at him. His eyes, usually warm and bright, held a dark, smoldering intensity that pinned you in place.

"You look perfect spread out like this," Heeseung murmured, his voice a husky rasp that sent shivers down your spine. His hands slid down your sides, rough palms scraping lightly over your ribs before settling possessively on your hips.

He shifted slightly, the ridge of his cock pressing against your inner thigh already hard again. Then he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your skirt, pulling it down your legs and discarding it with a flick.

This made you gasp but the sound vanished instantly as Heeseung hooked a hand under your knee, pushing your leg wider, opening you completely.

His gaze dropped, heavy-lidded and appreciative, taking in the glistening evidence of your cum. He didn't touch you with his fingers. Instead, he stroked his cock, thick and flushed, veins standing stark against the straining heat. With a controlled flex of his hips, he brought the heavy head down against your soaked folds.

Thwack. The sharp, wet slap echoed in the quiet room, startlingly loud. You cried out, arching off the floor, the sting mingling dizzyingly with the jolt of arousal that followed. He did it again, the broad head landing firmly against your swollen lips. Thwack. Another sharp cry tore from your throat, your fingers scrambling against the smooth wood. "Heeseung—!"

"Shh," he soothed, a predatory smile playing on his lips. He shifted his angle, abandoning the slapping rhythm. Instead, he pressed the throbbing underside of his cockhead firmly, deliberately, against your clit. The direct, unrelenting pressure was electric.

Your back arched violently, a ragged moan ripped from your chest, high-pitched and desperate. "Oh God!" you choked out, hips jerking helplessly against the exquisite torment. He held it there, grinding the slick, sensitive nub with the rigid heat of him, watching your face contort with pleasure-pain, your thighs trembling around his hips.

"Sweet, my sweet girl," he breathed, his own breath hitching as he felt your convulsions intensify under the persistent pressure. Then, without warning, he withdrew the pressure on your clit. His hands clamped back onto your hips, fingers digging in, and he surged forward.

There was no slow entry, no gentle stretch. He drove into you in one powerful, relentless thrust, burying himself to the hilt. The sudden, overwhelming fullness stole your breath, a guttural cry escaping you as your inner walls clamped down fiercely around the invading heat and thickness. He groaned above you, a deep, resonant sound of pure satisfaction.

He began to move, pulling back almost completely before slamming home again with brutal efficiency. The pace was punishing, deep strokes that dragged against every sensitive nerve ending. He leaned down, his sweat-damp forehead pressing against your temple, his lips brushing your ear.

"So fucking tight," he growled, each word punctuated by the sharp snap of his hips. "Taking me so deep. Feel how you squeeze me?" His hand slid between you, calloused thumb finding your clit again, circling it hard and fast in rhythm with his pounding thrusts. "That's it… moan for me. Let me hear how good it feels."

Your senses were overloaded—the slick slap of skin meeting skin, the deep, rhythmic groan rumbling in his chest, the heady musk of sex filling the air, the blinding friction inside you and the insistent torment on your clit. Your climax crashed over you without warning, a violent, seismic wave that arched your body taut as a bowstring.

A scream tore from your throat, raw and ragged, as your pussy convulsed around him in frantic pulses, milking his cock. Heeseung hissed, his rhythm faltering for a moment, his grip bruisingly tight on your hips. "Fuck yes," he gasped against your ear, his voice thick with strain. "So beautiful… coming all over my cock."

But he didn't stop. He didn't slow. As the last tremors of your orgasm still wracked your body, leaving you boneless and hypersensitive, he drove into you again. And again. The relentless friction inside your oversensitized channel was agony mixed with ecstasy. Tears pricked your eyes, a desperate whimper escaping you. "Too… too much…Heeseung, please…"

He leaned harder into you, his thrusts becoming deeper, more focused. "Almost," he panted, his voice ragged with the effort of holding back his own release. "Almost there, baby. Just… hold on." He pressed his lips to your damp temple, his breath hot and uneven.

"Need you to be good for me. Need you to take it… just a little longer." His hand left your clit to grip your chin, forcing your tear-streaked face up to meet his darkened gaze. "Be good," he commanded, the words rough but laced with something fierce, almost possessive. "Be good and let me fill you up."

The command, coupled with the relentless pounding deep inside your aching core, sent another frantic jolt through you. You couldn't stop the helpless moans that spilled from your lips, high and needy. He groaned in response, a sound of pure masculine appreciation.

"That's it," he praised thickly, his thrusts losing their brutal rhythm, becoming harder, more erratic. "Such a good girl… taking me so well… So fucking pretty… wrecked…" His voice broke on the last word as he buried himself impossibly deep one final time.

A guttural roar tore from his throat, his body locking rigid above you as his hips jerked violently, emptying himself in thick, pulsing jets deep inside your tender, trembling depths. You felt the scalding heat flood you, triggering aftershocks that made you sob weakly against his shoulder as he slumped over you, his breaths ragged gasps against your skin, whispering broken praise about how perfectly ruined you felt beneath him.