#help me i keep forgetting where this is from

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

"Ignore him, Okumura," Kamo tells him, laying a hand on his shoulder as he shakes his head. "Don't forget. You beat one of their members fair and square; they're just spiteful that they don't have people as strong as you. You did well." He tells him. "He's saying that because he lost three rounds against us." He said.

"......." That was true. Given they did beat most of Igarashi's followers and got them in the lead. So it did help hearing this from Kamo. However, he was more concerned about Taz. He didn't know she had a brother-well a blood related brother and no one knows where he was. However, at least Taz had others where they can be her big brothers and sisters.

They all cared about her and treat her as friend and family. However, he knew the most worried is Yuji who wanted to kick Igarashi's ass. However, Megumi was doing his best to keep him calm. He also knew Sukuna wanted to do the same given he saw Taz as his daughter when she was a baby. He really cared, loved, and was very protective of her. To him, he would have killed anyone that upset or made her cry.

That's how deeply he saw her as a child of his own. Even if he wasn't her blood related father, he was her father none the less.

"Don't worry...we will get them back," Kamo whispered to him. "I have a plan." And proceeds to tell him about the plan in freeing their teachers.

".......I g..get it. You g..guys do what you must..just...one favor.." Rin looks seeing the door but touches it getting ready to head in the room. "Please....please be sure Taz is alright......I know Yuji is angry I can see it...and feel it. I wanna be sure she's okay too after this is over......"

"............"

"Can you do that for me Kamo?"

"..........Yes, I can. I'll be sure to let the others know..but you need to head in and rest. You can take the time to rest or talk to Ink to calm down....I'm sure she would be happy to hear from you.." he reassures him.

Hearing this, Rin nods and was ready to head in to rest for a while.

Rin just walks with Kamo, suddenly feeling tired and wanted to lay down for a while. Everything happened too fast and it left him feeling more upset. As he was making his way, he sees two members stop him and Kamo. He was about to speak but heard Kamo say it first.

"Our friend needs to rest after your teammates' antics."

"..........."

Seeing the minions waited for Igarashi to say or agree, he just waves it off as the two guards moved to the side. Rin looks down but he heard Kamo speak.

"Sorry about this, Rin. I know we shouldn't be asking you to do this for us, given the situation. So I know exactly how you feel." Kamo tells him. However, he was looking down.

"It's..fine...I undersatnd.." he mutters looking down.

"........I understand but still-"

"Well, at least some weak morons know when to leave and stay out of the way. And here I thought the son of satan was stronger than this." Rin and Kamo heard Igarashi speak towards Rin who was annoyed.

Even Rin looks down not saying too much. "But..I guess it's said for him and that other little brat demon. Those two really should be stronger in this but I guess not...such a shame." he said with arms crossed. However, it leaves them silent.

"So yeah, please take the weak demon away..he is just in the way." He said with Rin's upper face darkened and hidden gripping his arm.

[unluckiestmember]

K-Pop Demon Hunters: HUNTR/X X Fem! Reader

Characters: Mira, Zoey and Rumi

Warning: None. SFW.

A/N: I can't believe pride month is over, but I'll be damned if it ends and I don't have anything for these girls! Should I do one for the Saja Boys??

Zoey

“What do you say to us going to the bathhouse after this?… Awesome- You hear that, guys?! I’m taking my girlfriend to the bathhouse!” Zoey knew she liked girls for a long time. When she lived in America, she enjoyed that she was in a sense comfortable to love who she wanted to love without much ridicule if at all. So for her, falling in love with you came easy and somewhat fast. She knew some fans wouldn’t understand, but that didn’t stop her from putting you on a pedestal and making sure the whole world knew who she was dating.

This maknae will always find a chance to hold you if not cuddle you in between shows, all while telling you endlessly how much she loves you between kisses on your cheeks. Because of how proud she is to have you as a girlfriend, she’ll even invite you to join HUNTR/X during interviews and fan signing. This lovebird makes sure no one forgets you two are together because of how happy you make her. And she hopes she makes you feel the same way.

Mira

“Where’s my girl?… There she is~. You enjoyed the show? Good, now come on, babe, we gotta celebrate.” One of the reasons why Mira didn’t get along well with her family was because she wasn’t conventional when it came to her love. She liked guys, don’t get her wrong, but she loved girls way more. And she used to be pretty self conscious about it, but after she met you? Beautiful gorgeous you? Well, let’s just say that she parades you around sometimes. When she’s done with a show, she’s all over you, quick to put an arm around you and walk around as if you are both goddesses everywhere you go.

Expect to get a bunch of kisses on your forehead and brushes along your hand from her thumb. And especially be ready for her to put you in her lap like it’s a personal throne while she caresses your side. If anyone tries to ridicule you for loving her, she’s going to make an example out of them. She dares anybody to hurt you or make you feel like you don’t belong. They’re just another display of how much she loves you and cherishes you.

Rumi

“For the melody, maybe we can-… Why are you looking at me like that? I know it may be hard, but can you try to stop being cute and focus?” Rumi had made it clear that she likes boys as much as her friends. But what she’s always kept behind closed doors along with her past is that she likes girls too. She had to learn that the hard way from performing at so many shows, meeting other artists and just being entranced by their beauty. It’s one of the reasons why she fell in love with you. You just. Waltzed right into her life and she thought you were the most beautiful person she’d ever seen.

She pursued you and at first tried to keep your relationship a secret due to fear of ridicule. But with your help and your unwavering love for the lead singer, after a show, Rumi pulled you aside and revealed to the world that you two were together. She has never been happier now that you two can be together in public. She loves how she can compliment you around Mira and Zoey. How she can talk about you fondly during interviews. And especially how she can sleep by your side without having to sneak you out in the morning. She couldn’t do it if it wasn’t for you. And because of that, she loves you so much and will love you forever.

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[truthscrapper]

Devlog #2 📚 Research Trip

Already a month since the announcement?! Time passes by so fast. I hope everyone is staying cool in this dreadful weather.

In case you just stumbled upon this, I am Adrienne, also known as insertdisc5! I am the creator of timeloop RPG In Stars and Time, and now am working on my next game, memory visual novel Truth Scrapper. It’s gonna be a good one.

This month, I took a trip to Paris, and reworked the memory gameplay a bit!

📚

So, as you perhaps can tell, TS’s backgrounds are collages of photographs. I’ve been using royalty free images from websites like Pexels, and it’s been going relatively well. Unless I was looking for pictures of Paris that weren’t taken by tourists, or looking for pics of stairs taken from the top of the stairs for some reason.

In light of that, I decided to go on a trip to Paris for a couple weeks to take reference pictures <3

Ok it might look like I only took pictures of food BUT IT’S RESEARCH OK IT’S RESEARCH OK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Not an actual screenshot– this is how my illustration template is structured!)

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

The rest of the month was taken by rewrites and replays. Unlike with ISAT (my previous game) where I worked chronologically with minimal backtracking during development, I feel like for TS I keep going back to previous days to add things, change a scene, remove a bit of foreshadowing that was too obvious… It’s not a bad way of working, but it’s so different from what I’m used to that it stresses me out anyway!!! 

(Old screenshot. The hardboiled eggs aren’t here anymore)

I also reworked the memory gameplay. The only way to impact the story in TS is not through choices, but with which memories Sosotte decides to remember day-to-day. I originally had some memories be dud memories, or memories that are just here as flavor, but playtesters seemed to keep them anyway… So now, I’m making sure all memories will give you a little something something!

This is how the memories for the prologue look now. Note the icons! 

So, if you pick that “funny cloud” memory, you will gain the “sight” perk, which allows Sosotte to, uh, remember to use her eyes. Yippee!

In July, I will finally finish that goshdang script for Day 4, and get it implemented. 

kthnxbye

DON'T FORGET TO WISHLIST THE GAME ALSO IT REALLY HELPS BECAUSE STEAM’S ALGORITHM IS MORE LIKELY TO SHOW OFF GAMES WITH A HIGH AMOUNT OF WISHLISTS THATS THE REASON WHY GAME DEVS ALWAYS ASK TO WISHLIST!!! OKAY BYE!!!!

Links! 📚 Official Website 📚 Join the Discord 📚 Sign up for my mailing list 📚 Follow Truth Scrapper on Bluesky 📚 Follow ME on Bluesky

[sereia4skz]

Hey Yaya!! I wanted to ask for some fluffy smut with a cat hybrid gn reader if it's okay, who's also kind of more dominant than Minho in bed (kinda need some more subby minho). Sorry if requests are closed, feel free to ignore this!! /gen

oneshot | mornings in bed

pairing: minho x f!reader

genre: smut

warnings: cat hyrbid!reader, soft dom reader, dry humping, cumming in clothes

word count: 1093

masterlist: A-Side (texts) | B-Side (written)

Minho stirs under the soft blanket, hair a sleepy mess against the pillow, one arm thrown lazily over your waist. He's been like this all morning, clingy, quiet, needy in the way only he gets when he's not quite awake but not quite ready to let go of you either.

Your tail flicks against his thigh beneath the sheets, and you purr softly just to tease him. His eyes flutter open at the sound.

“You’re doing that on purpose,” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips.

You hum innocently, brushing your nose against the soft shell of his ear. “Doing what?”

He groans, burying his face into your neck. “Purring at me like that. It’s unfair.”

“Is it?” You gently scratch your claws down his back, and he melts. “I think someone’s just sensitive today.”

Minho shivers, his body pressing closer. “You make me feel so… warm.”

You chuckle, but it’s fond, not mocking. “That’s because I like taking care of you.”

Your words make his ears burn, and you feel the way his breath catches. He doesn’t say anything, but his hips roll forward just slightly, so subtle, but you notice. 

“Minho,” you murmur, one hand trailing up to tangle in his hair, nails scratching right where you know he likes it. “Are you getting needy on me already?”

He nods before he even thinks to answer. It’s so sweet. So obedient. Your owner is so soft sometimes. You shift your position, slowly pressing him onto his back and straddling his hips, watching the way his eyes go wide and hazy all at once. His hands find your thighs like instinct.

“You’re so pretty when you’re like this,” you whisper, leaning down to kiss the corner of his mouth. “All soft and pliant.”

“Only for you,” he breathes, eyes fluttering shut when you start kissing along his neck, your fangs grazing ever so gently over his skin. “Always for you.”

His hands tremble just slightly when you guide them above his head, pinning his wrists to the pillow with one hand. The other moves down to slip beneath the waistband of his boxers, where he’s already hard, already leaking, just from a few words and some lazy touches.

You chuckle against his throat. “What a mess. We haven’t even started.”

He whines, not loudly, but just enough to make you want to ruin him slowly and sweetly.

“Should I make you beg, baby?” you tease, nipping his ear. “Or have you been good enough to get what you want right away?”

Minho bites his lip. “Please…”

You hum approvingly. “Good boy.”

Your hand moves slow and warm over his chest, your claws grazing lightly down his skin until he shudders, hips twitching beneath you. His wrists remain where you left them, pressed against the pillow, obedient, trusting.

“You always get like this when I’m on top of you,” you purr, lips brushing his cheek, his jaw, the soft spot just below his ear. “Like your body forgets who’s supposed to be in control.”

He gasps when you rock your hips down against his, the friction sending a jolt through both of you. Your soft cotton sleepwear rubs against the thin fabric of his boxers, and it’s so easy to feel how hard he already is.

Minho bucks up just slightly, whimpering, and his voice comes out small. “I can’t help it…”

“I know you can’t,” you coo, kissing the corner of his mouth again, your tongue flicking briefly against his lower lip. “You’re so easy to rile up. One little purr and you’re already dripping.”

His ears are flushed red now, so red it’s impossible not to smile as you start grinding down again, slow and deliberate, your movements just enough to keep the friction sharp and teasing.

He moans, high and breathless, arching under you, hips chasing yours almost desperately. “Please, please, more…”

“You’re already getting it, baby,” you say, voice syrupy as your tail sways behind you, low and playful. “Be patient.”

But you’re not too cruel, you shift your hips just slightly, catching the perfect angle where your core presses hard against his bulge. The sensation shoots straight through both of you, enough to make you bite down a moan and him choke on a whine.

Minho’s legs spread wider beneath you, instinctively trying to give you more space, more contact. His boxers are already sticking damply to him, his cock straining beneath the fabric.

“You’re making such a mess,” you murmur, dragging your hips down again, harder this time. Your voice is low and warm, brushing his mouth as you rock. “You gonna cum just from this?”

He nods frantically, eyes wet and glossy. “I c-can’t stop it, it feels so good-”

“You don’t need to stop,” you whisper, grabbing his jaw gently to tilt his head up, forcing him to look at you. “I want you to cum like this. Just from me grinding on you.”

He whimpers, his face crumbling like he’s almost embarrassed, and it only makes your stomach twist in heat.

You grind down harder, faster now, the thin layers between you both already soaked, every movement slick and warm and perfect. You can feel the way he’s trembling, straining to hold back but unable to.

Minho cries out when your hands slip under his shirt, nails trailing up his sides while you press your forehead to his.

“Cum for me, Minho,” you whisper, voice right against his lips. “Be a good boy and make a mess.”

His body jerks under you, thighs tensing, hips stuttering as he lets out the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard, high, breathy, and full of surrender. You can feel the warmth of it spreading beneath you, his boxers soaked through as he whimpers, clinging to you now, trembling from the force of it.

The feel of him cumming, the look on his flushed face, the desperate little gasps, it’s too much.

You grind down once, twice more before your own climax crashes through you, your claws digging into his shoulders, a soft growl rolling out of your throat as your body tenses and quivers above him.

For a moment, you both just breathe, panting, tangled, still grinding softly through the aftershocks. 

Then, Minho lets out a tiny, broken sigh and buries his face into your neck again. “You’re unreal,” he mumbles. “You’re gonna kill me one day.”

You giggle, tail flicking against his thigh again as you curl around him. “You’d die happy, though.”

He grumbles against your skin. “So happy.”

taglist: @diekleinesuesse @tillaboo @felixsonlyrealwife @geni-627 @skz8riley @lezleeferguson-120 @pixie-felix @headfirstfortoro @alnex05 @baby-stay92 @encoredesires @androgynouscrownorbit @channiesluvrclub @my-neurodivergent-world @chims-dimple @bookswillfindyouaway @stellasays45 @angel-writes-skz-here @m-325 @0sunshinecryptid0 @beal-o @hug4helios @oksullen @rileylovescats @dreamyfelixx @yxna-bliss @turtledove824 @enhacolor @skzz0213 @hannahlue @purplelady85 @velvetmoonlght @inishij @bangchanspineapple @straykids4lifeee @peskybirdysya @gnabsss

[paxaz535]

SLOW SIMMER - FIVE

dallas!paige x privatechef!azzi

note : here it is! sorry for the wait lol

—————��———-

azzi woke up to a ton of notifications lighting up her phone. she didn’t like being woken up by people blowing her up, but something made her check anyway.

paige has added you to a group!

lake 💦

dijonai

you all ready?

arike

girl it’s about nine in the morning

dijonai

so?

maddy

people are still sleeping

dijonai

azzi !!

hey girl

you up?

azzi

unfortunately

lyss

real

azzi decided to get up and get herself ready for the day, packing a few things for the lake.

she went to the kitchen after finishing her business.

paige

wait we meeting at your house right nai?

dijonai

yes

azzi

where even is this lake?

lyss

that’s actually a great question

dijonai

😭 y’all swear i don’t plan

it’s like 35-40 mins out

calm vibes, not crowded

maddy

i better not get bit by a mosquito the size of a tennis ball again

arike

girl that was one time

paige

azzi do you wanna ride with me? or you rollin with nai again

azzi

i’ll go with you

i gotta bring all the food stuff anyway

dijonai

as long as the food is there, idc who she ride with

lyss

period

maddy

we need to get a speaker this time

no weak phone-in-a-cup playlist

paige

i got it, don’t worry

arike

azzi just don’t forget the sandwiches

i been thinking about them since thursday

azzi

oh i didn’t forget

i’m already up and prepping 😭

dijonai

chef fudd in the building

paige

chef fudd in the kitchen

get it right

azzi smiled at the screen, shaking her head as she started pulling out ingredients.

azzi had her music playing low in the background—some soft r&b to keep her mood right as she moved around the kitchen. her bonnet was still on, slippers dragging across the tile as she packed up her cooler with care.

she had made the sandwiches fresh:

turkey and provolone with garlic aioli, caprese with a balsamic glaze, and a few vegan options just in case. fruit skewers sat in their own little container. chips were packed. and of course, she had to throw in some cookies she baked last night.

it was giving… picnic mom energy. and she didn’t even mind.

just as she zipped up the last cooler bag, she heard the familiar shuffle of footsteps coming from down the hall. paige.

“damn, you been up,” the blonde yawned as she rubbed her eyes.

“you told me y’all were meeting at dijonai’s at ten. it’s 9:12,” azzi said, not even looking up as she rearranged things on the counter.

“yeah but i didn’t expect you to be this… advanced,” paige replied, making her way toward the fridge.

“i don’t play about food. that’s like, my whole job,” azzi said with a small smirk.

paige opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. “you need help carrying all this to the car?”

“you offering or just trying to be polite?”

“a little of both,” paige grinned.

azzi laughed and handed her one of the cooler bags. “let’s go then.”

as they made their way out the apartment, paige looked over at azzi—braids still tied up, oversized hoodie and shorts, gold hoops glinting in the light.

“you always this productive before ten a.m.?” she asked, genuinely curious.

azzi shrugged. “only when i care about who i’m feeding.”

paige raised a brow but didn’t say anything—just nodded, lips twitching into a smile as she opened the trunk.

it was gonna be a good day.

even paige could feel it.

as they loaded the car, the morning sun was already warming up the pavement. azzi tucked the sandwich trays between the coolers while paige grabbed the speaker and a few folded towels she’d promised to bring.

“you sure you don’t need to change?” paige asked, eyeing azzi’s comfy outfit.

“nah,” azzi smiled. “i brought a change of clothes. i’ll get dressed once we get there.”

paige nodded. “smart.”

they got in the car, paige starting the engine as azzi pulled out her phone to send a quick text in the group chat.

azzi

on the way 🚗

don’t start talking shit without me

dijonai

we would never

arike

lies. i already got a few things to say about your hoodie

lyss

i said the same thing 😭

dijonai

it’s literally cute chill wear. leave her alone

maddy

some of y’all wore sweats to brunch last week let’s not judge

dijonai

EXACTLY

i just texted y’all the location again just in case

paige

got it

lyss

bring sunscreen this time, i’m not playing

arike

this is directed at maddy but okay

paige glanced over as azzi chuckled at her phone.

“they’re a mess,” the chef muttered, screen lighting up with more replies.

“you get used to it,” paige said, her hands relaxed on the wheel. “or maybe you just end up becoming part of the mess.”

azzi looked over at her. “maybe i already am.”

paige smiled, just a little.

“good.”

the ride continued in peaceful silence, music humming low between them.

azzi looked out the window, the city slowly turning to fields and water.

this was new.

this was soft.

this was… something.

she didn’t know what yet.

but it didn’t feel like nothing.

-after meeting at nai’s house-

they pulled into the gravel parking lot of the lake spot around 10:02.

“we’re early?” azzi asked, surprised as she glanced at the dashboard clock.

“miracles happen,” paige replied, unbuckling her seatbelt. “they’ll probably pull up loud and chaotic in the next five minutes.”

azzi laughed softly, already opening her door. “that sounds about right.”

the lake was quiet for now—water glistening, trees swaying, and the little picnic area already shaded under a big oak tree. it was perfect. azzi opened the trunk and started grabbing the bags while paige laid out the big blanket they brought, setting the speaker to the side.

“we should’ve brought chairs,” azzi muttered, organizing the food near the center of the blanket.

“we did,” paige smirked, pointing to a folded set stashed in the trunk. “you thought i wouldn’t come prepared?”

“okay, bueckers,” azzi nodded, impressed. “look at you being all functional.”

before paige could get a comeback out, a car horn beeped twice.

they turned around just in time to see dijonai’s car pulling in—music already thumping.

“here they come,” paige sighed with a grin.

the car doors flew open, and chaos spilled out: arike jumping out with her crocs already halfway off, lyss stretching like she just got off a six-hour flight, and maddy walking up with a portable fan and iced coffee in hand.

“chef fudd in the building!” dijonai shouted, arms out as she approached. “and she’s looking like a picnic snack and the whole damn meal.”

azzi shook her head, blushing as she hugged her. “you’re too much.”

“never enough,” dijonai winked before helping unload the rest of the car. “tell me you brought those turkey sandwiches.”

“of course i did,” azzi replied. “and the caprese ones too.”

“god bless you.”

“who made the cookies?” maddy asked, peeking into the container as she sat down.

“me.”

“you made these?” her eyes widened. “yeah… i’m proposing by sunset.”

paige just laughed, already setting up the speaker. “i told y’all.”

lyss plopped down next to arike, grabbing a fruit skewer. “chef fudd might be the best decision you ever made, bueckers.”

paige’s eyes flicked to azzi.

“don’t i know it.”

azzi pretended not to hear that—

but the way her stomach flipped?

yeah. she definitely did.

“we left at the same time, how come yall are now just getting here?” paige asked as she looked at dijonai. the girl looked down at her shoe, a playful nervous expression on her face. “i needed gas.”

paige just shook her head. “typical nai,”

“well come on, let’s get this started.” arike spoke.

-

the lake day unfolded like something out of a dream.

music playing low, food laid out perfectly, the sun warm but not overwhelming. azzi had changed into some black biker shorts and a cropped tank, still modest, still cute. her gold hoops stayed in, glinting when the sunlight hit just right.

she sat under the tree with maddy and dijonai, the three of them talking like they’d known each other for years.

“so wait, you really be up before the sun every day?” maddy asked, genuinely curious.

“not every day,” azzi laughed. “just the days i’m cooking—which, yeah, ends up being most of them.”

“nah, that’s discipline. i can barely get outta bed for morning lift,” dijonai added, shaking her head. “you built different.”

paige was nearby, lounging back on one of the fold-out chairs, a water bottle pressed to her cheek to cool off. she kept glancing over, just subtly, as azzi talked. there was something about seeing her like this—comfortable, a little sun-kissed, smiling easily with her friends.

not her friends. not yet.

but paige could feel the shift happening.

they were becoming something.

arike broke the calm by tossing a grape at paige. “yo. you gonna get in the water or just sit there like somebody’s bodyguard?”

“i’m observing,” paige replied, dryly. “and supervising. very important role.”

lyss was already wading in up to her calves. “coward behavior.”

“nah,” dijonai called out. “i feel her. not everyone tryna get lake water in places it don’t belong.”

“okay but—azzi?” arike called out. “you swimming?”

azzi looked up, surprised to be called on like she was the new kid in class.

“uh… maybe later.”

“i’m calling that a yes,” arike smirked, already splashing lyss.

paige sat up a little, watching azzi brush a braid behind her ear and smile at the chaos. she stood slowly, walked over to where paige was sitting, and nudged her with her foot.

“you good?”

paige nodded. “you look like you’re having fun.”

“i am,” azzi said. “your people are cool.”

paige looked up at her, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“you are too.”

that made azzi freeze for just a second.

not visibly. not enough for anyone to catch.

but she felt it.

the compliment hung in the air, unspoken weight behind it.

“thanks,” she said finally, her voice softer.

paige nodded once, letting it sit.

“you ever think about staying in dallas long-term?” she asked suddenly, voice low.

azzi looked at her, studying her expression.

“why?” she asked.

paige shrugged, not quite meeting her eyes. “just wondering.”

azzi tilted her head, playful but still serious. “maybe i will.”

paige grinned. “good.”

and just like that—

the silence between them said everything else.

the afternoon sun dipped lower, casting gold across the lake’s surface. a few of the girls were still in the water, lyss doing lazy backstrokes while arike and dijonai floated nearby on inflatable loungers they’d somehow pulled out of the trunk.

azzi was sitting cross-legged on the picnic blanket now, drying her legs with a small towel after finally giving in and wading into the water with maddy for a bit. her curls were slightly damp around the edges of her hairline, but her makeup had somehow survived. she reached for a grape, glancing up when she noticed paige walking back toward her with two bottles of water in hand.

“you finally moved?” azzi teased, smiling up at her.

“i was conserving energy,” paige replied, handing her one of the bottles. “supervising takes a lot out of me.”

azzi laughed softly, taking the bottle with a nod. “thanks.”

they sat in a light silence for a few moments, watching the others play and yell over some floating game lyss made up. azzi glanced at paige from the corner of her eye.

“you always like this?” she asked quietly. “watching more than jumping in?”

paige’s brows lifted slightly. “that obvious?”

“only a little.”

paige leaned back on her palms, stretching her legs out in front of her. “i don’t know. sometimes i just like… watching people be happy. it feels good to have quiet moments like this, you know?”

azzi looked at her for a moment, expression unreadable. then she nodded.

“yeah. i get that.”

paige turned to face her a little more directly. “but if you want me to start cannonballing into the lake next time, i’ll do it.”

“don’t tempt me,” azzi grinned. “i might hold you to that.”

paige smiled back, quiet again for a beat. the kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled.

“they like you, by the way,” she said suddenly.

“who?” azzi asked.

“the girls. my team. they really like you.”

azzi looked down, biting back a shy smile. “they’re cool. they made me feel like i’ve known them longer than a week.”

“i’m glad,” paige replied, more serious now. “i didn’t wanna bring you into this and make you feel weird or… out of place.”

“you didn’t,” azzi said quickly. “i feel good here.”

paige nodded once. “good.”

the moment lingered between them—light but full, like there was something more under the surface they were both too careful to name.

then, from the water:

“YO, P! AZZI! COME SETTLE THIS!” lyss shouted. “WHO WON THE RACE? BE HONEST.”

“BECAUSE I KNOW IT WASN’T YOU!” arike hollered.

paige groaned. “here we go.”

azzi laughed, already standing and brushing off her shorts.

“you ready, supervisor?”

paige stood, eyes still on her.

“yeah. let’s go save the day.”

and they did—together.

softly. slowly.

maybe even unknowingly falling into something neither one of them was fully ready to admit just yet.

—

after stepping off the blanket and heading toward the lake’s edge, azzi felt the splash of water hit her ankle before she even got close.

“oh, we throwing water now?” she called out with a raised brow.

“you’re guilty by association,” arike said with a grin, floating in her tube like a villain in a summer movie. “and since paige be playin’ referee, you both catching strays.”

paige rolled her eyes. “this is why i stayed on land.”

“too late now!” lyss yelled before tossing another wave in their direction.

azzi yelped, stepping behind paige. “oh nah, you’re gonna have to take that one.”

“caption: bueckers caught simping at the lake,” she muttered with a smirk.

maddy stood next to her sipping a smoothie, watching the way paige kept glancing at azzi when she thought nobody noticed.

“yeah,” maddy said, leaning slightly toward her. “she gone.”

dijonai grinned wide. “so gone.”

—

later, as the sun began to dip behind the trees and the girls packed up their things, azzi sat at the back of dijonai’s car, towel draped over her shoulders and her braids slightly puffed from the lake water.

paige walked up beside her, a zip-up hoodie in one hand.

“here,” she said, holding it out.

“what’s this for?” azzi asked, eyeing it with a smile.

“in case you get cold. it’s already kinda chilly out.”

azzi took it, her fingers brushing paige’s for just a second.

“thanks,” she said softly, slipping it on. it was a little big on her. cozy. smelled like fresh linen and maybe even a little coconut.

“looks better on you anyway,” paige said quietly, almost under her breath.

they said their goodbyes slowly, the kind that came with soft yawns and half-hugs and promises to send the pictures dijonai wouldn’t stop taking.

paige had parked a little farther down the road, away from the cluster of cars. azzi walked beside her, the zip-up hoodie still on her shoulders, her towel slung across her arm. they were quiet for a second, the only sound being the hum of cicadas and the soft scuff of crocs on gravel.

“that was actually fun,” azzi finally said, glancing over.

“you sound surprised,” paige replied, smirking as she unlocked the car.

“a little. i didn’t think a random lake day with five girls i barely knew was gonna be this chill.”

“well,” paige said as she opened her door, “we’re good people.”

“eh, debatable,” azzi teased, sliding into the passenger seat.

paige looked over at her, then shook her head with a smile before starting the car. the drive was quiet at first, windows slightly down, the air warm but bearable. a playlist was running on low volume—some brent, some sza, something mellow enough to match the way the day felt.

azzi rested her head against the seat, eyes fluttering shut for a second. paige glanced at her out the corner of her eye.

“you tired?”

“no, just thinking,” azzi mumbled, eyes still closed.

“about what?”

azzi opened one eye, looked at her. “you ask a lot of questions.”

“you don’t gotta answer.”

“i don’t mind.”

paige waited. azzi inhaled slow before turning her head to face her fully.

“i think it’s just weird, in a good way, how fast i feel comfortable around you.”

paige’s fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel. she didn’t speak right away, just let the words sit in the air for a beat.

“same,” she finally said, her voice low. “it’s easy with you.”

azzi smiled to herself, a soft laugh escaping her lips.

“you’re lucky you can cook,” paige added.

“i thought i was charming.”

“you are. but food definitely boosted your rating.”

they both laughed, the car turning down familiar streets now. the sky above was getting darker, painted in shades of deep orange and sleepy blues.

by the time they got to the apartment, neither of them moved to get out right away. azzi unbuckled her seatbelt but stayed seated, her fingers playing with the edge of the hoodie sleeve.

“thanks for inviting me,” she said. “for real.”

paige looked at her, her voice quiet. “thanks for coming.”

azzi finally got out, paige following behind her. and even though the day was over, and the lake was miles behind them—

the warmth still lingered.

just like the way azzi kept paige’s hoodie on all night.

just like the way paige kept watching her when she thought she wasn’t looking.

azzi went to her room and immediately started to unwind, pulling out clothes and getting ready for a shower. just as she tossed her towel over her shoulder, her phone buzzed.

mom

you seem to be having fun hence no check-ins yet

azzi laughed at her mom’s message before typing back:

azzi

yes i have been having fun actually

mom

not too much… right?

azzi

ew mom stop

no

mom

you know how i am

how are you though?

azzi

i’m doing really good so far

paige is welcoming

me, her and a few of her teammates went to a lake today

mom

that sounds good honey

i’m glad you’re getting comfortable

azzi smiled at her phone, letting herself breathe a little easier. sometimes her mom’s check-ins could be a lot, but deep down, she knew it came from love. and honestly… it was nice to feel missed.

her thumbs moved quickly across the screen:

azzi

yeah i’m trying to

it’s a little weird still

but a good weird

mom

good weird is still good

that girl better be treating you right

i’ll come to texas if she not

azzi laughed again, shaking her head as she grabbed her towel and slid her phone onto the counter.

azzi

she’s treating me fine

don’t start

mom

mmhmm

i’m watching though 👀

azzi chuckled to herself, setting the phone down and walking toward the bathroom. she caught her reflection in the mirror and paused for a second—thinking back to the car ride, the soft music, the way paige looked at her like she was familiar.

whatever this was, it was slow.

it was new.

and even if azzi didn’t want to admit it out loud just yet—

it felt like it was building into something.

she stepped into the shower, warm water washing away the lake, the sun, and the weight of the long day—

but not the smile that was still stuck on her face.

-

paige woke up to the smell of breakfast and immediately smiled. azzi was really outdoing herself—paige loved it, though.

she stretched slowly, her body still sore from yesterday’s lake trip, but the aroma of food was enough to get her out of bed. it was warm, comforting, and familiar at this point… almost like home.

she pulled on a hoodie and padded out of her room, rubbing her eyes.

“you’re spoiling me,” she said, voice still raspy from sleep.

azzi looked over her shoulder, grinning. “good morning to you too.”

paige smirked, leaning against the counter. “seriously. this smells crazy.”

“you say that every morning.”

“and i mean it every morning.”

azzi laughed softly, turning her attention back to the stove. paige watched her for a moment—hair up, movements fluid, hoodie sleeves pushed up just enough to show the bracelet paige hadn’t noticed before.

damn.

“you want coffee?” azzi asked without turning.

“please,” paige replied. “and maybe a permanent contract.”

azzi looked back at her, eyebrow raised. “for what?”

“you. living here. feeding me forever.”

“hmm… we’ll see,” azzi teased, plating the eggs.

paige smiled, sitting down at the island like she always did.

yeah. she could get used to this.

in fact, she already was.

paige sat with her elbows on the island, eyes following azzi’s every move like she was watching a show that never got boring.

“what’s on the menu today, chef?” she asked, chin resting in her hand.

“simple,” azzi said as she slid a plate in front of her. “cheesy eggs, turkey bacon, toast with honey butter, and fruit. didn’t wanna do too much today.”

“this is doing enough,” paige mumbled, already taking a bite. she closed her eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. “god… marry me.”

azzi laughed as she poured the coffee. “you can’t keep proposing every time i feed you.”

“and yet, here we are,” paige replied, sipping her coffee like she wasn’t dead serious.

they ate in easy silence for a moment, only broken by the sound of silverware and the light music azzi had playing from the kitchen speaker.

paige glanced at her again. “so what’s on your agenda today?”

azzi shrugged. “i might run to the store later. clean up. prep for dinner. i don’t know, whatever needs doing.”

paige nodded slowly, then cleared her throat. “wanna chill after?”

azzi looked up at her, a bit surprised. “like… chill how?”

paige smirked. “like movie, snacks, couch. you and me. maybe some shit-talking if the movie sucks.”

azzi smiled behind her coffee mug. “you asking me out, bueckers?”

“nah,” paige said, eyes locked on hers. “just trying to keep the chef happy.”

“hmm. okay then,” azzi replied softly, her cheeks warm. “movie night it is.”

and just like that, something quiet sparked between them again—tucked between toast and turkey bacon and two people pretending like it was just breakfast.

but they both felt it.

and neither of them wanted to name it just yet.

-

“you’re back!”

azzi looked up and saw the two girls she came across last time she was here. she smiled immediately. they seemed sweet—genuine, kind-hearted.

“caroline and allie… right?”

she was nervous she’d mess up their names, but the second allie gasped, she knew she got it right.

“yes! you remembered, oh my gosh.” allie beamed, eyes wide with excitement.

azzi let out a small breath of relief, laughing softly. “i was hoping i did. would’ve been awkward if i didn’t.”

caroline grinned as she leaned over the counter. “we’ve literally been talking about your food nonstop. i even tried to remake that salmon dish you posted the other day.”

azzi raised her brows. “oh yeah? how’d it come out?”

“umm… edible,” caroline said, laughing. “not you level, but i tried.”

“points for effort,” azzi joked, setting her basket down.

“so,” allie started, eyes twinkling, “what’s on the menu this week?”

“that depends,” azzi said, glancing at her list. “whatever this cart tells me by the end of the aisle.”

they all laughed, falling into easy conversation—like they’d known each other for longer than just two grocery store run-ins. and for once, azzi didn’t mind the attention.

allie looked down nervously before asking, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. she knew it was a long shot, but she was never the type to hold back.

“is there any way we can stay in contact?”

azzi blinked, caught slightly off guard. she looked at allie, then at caroline, and thought for a moment.

like she said earlier, they seemed genuine. warm. sweet. and honestly… she needed more friends out here in dallas. it wouldn’t hurt to get to know them a little better.

“yeah, sure,” she said softly, pulling out her phone.

azzi opened instagram and started scrolling through her followers, quickly searching for an allie and caroline. it didn’t take long—she recognized their profile pictures.

both girls felt their phones buzz and looked down, jaws practically dropping when they saw the notification.

azzi fudd followed you back.

they tried so hard not to scream in the middle of the store, exchanging wide-eyed looks instead.

“no way,” caroline whispered.

“this is the best day ever,” allie muttered, clutching her phone like it might disappear.

azzi smiled as she slipped her phone back into her pocket. “don’t be weird in my dms and we’ll be good.”

“never,” caroline promised, holding a hand over her heart.

“seriously,” allie added, grinning. “thank you, azzi.”

“of course,” she said, pushing her cart toward the next aisle. “i’ll see y’all around.”

they stood frozen for a second, watching her walk off like they just met a celebrity. because honestly? they kinda did.

-

paige heard the door unlock and peeked over the couch. “chef’s back,” she called out, setting her phone down as azzi walked in with three bags in her hands.

“and the chef comes bearing gifts,” azzi responded, kicking the door shut behind her.

“did you buy the whole store?” paige teased as she got up to help, grabbing two of the lighter bags from her hands.

“almost,” azzi said with a shrug. “dallas tax.”

they both set the bags on the counter. paige started peeking inside one, curious. “you didn’t forget the honey butter, right?”

“top priority,” azzi said, pulling it out and handing it to her.

“you’re already my favorite person,” paige muttered, inspecting the label like it was gold.

as azzi unloaded, paige suddenly paused, pulling something out with raised brows. “uh… why is there a tub of strawberry mochi ice cream in here?”

azzi didn’t look up. “you like mochi, right?”

paige blinked. “i mean, yeah… but i’ve never told you that.”

azzi finally glanced her way with a small smirk. “you didn’t have to.”

paige stood there for a moment, staring at her. something about azzi’s answer made her chest feel warm.

“…okay, that was smooth.”

“i try.”

“you trying to get bonus points or something?”

“maybe.”

paige rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips gave her away. she gently placed the mochi back into the freezer, stealing one last glance at the girl who somehow made grocery runs feel like flirting.

azzi was trying out a new recipe, and like always, she had her phone propped up on the counter, already recording. whenever she tested something new, she liked to post the process—give her followers a peek behind the scenes.

but this wasn’t her kitchen.

this was someone else’s.

specifically, paige bueckers’ kitchen.

and for some reason, that fact weighed heavier today.

she stood quietly, her hands halfway through prepping the ingredients, her face pulled into that familiar thinking expression.

“you okay?”

she looked up, startled slightly at the soft voice.

paige stood across from her, leaning against the counter, a gentle crease between her brows. concern, subtle but present.

azzi gave a small, almost embarrassed smile. “yeah. i need to talk to you,” she said, setting the knife down.

paige’s posture straightened just a bit. “about what?”

azzi hesitated, her fingers brushing the edge of the cutting board. “not anything bad. i just…” she looked up again, her voice softer this time. “i don’t want to overstep.”

“you’re not,” paige said quickly, taking a step closer. “whatever it is, just say it.”

azzi nodded, her gaze dipping for a second. “sometimes when i’m cooking or recording… i feel like i’m taking up space that’s not mine. and this kitchen, this whole place—it’s yours. i just wanna make sure you’re okay with all of it.”

paige blinked. then her mouth opened, then closed, like she didn’t know how to word what she wanted to say.

“azzi…” she finally breathed out, “this kitchen has never felt more like home until you started using it.”

azzi’s breath hitched just slightly.

“i’m not just okay with it,” paige added, her tone warm and sincere. “i want you to feel like it’s yours too.”

azzi nodded slowly, her heart doing things she swore it shouldn’t.

“thank you,” she whispered.

paige smiled, that soft, knowing one that always seemed to land in azzi’s chest. “now get back to that mochi crusted chicken or whatever this is. it smells insane.”

azzi laughed, picking her knife back up. “it’s a crispy miso glaze with sesame slaw.”

“same thing,” paige teased, leaning on the counter again. “i’ll just stand here and admire the chef in action.”

paige stayed leaned against the counter, her arms crossed as she watched azzi move around the kitchen. there was something really calming about the way azzi cooked—confident but unhurried, every movement intentional. her braids were tied back into a loose bun, a few strands curling by her cheeks, and her apron was tied snug around her waist.

“you know,” paige started, her voice a little lighter now, “this might be the first time i’ve ever just… stood here and watched someone cook in my kitchen.”

azzi didn’t turn around, but her smile grew. “that a good thing or bad thing?”

“depends.”

“on?”

“on whether or not i get to sneak a bite before it’s done.”

azzi turned her head just enough to shoot her a look. “absolutely not.”

“wow. heartless.”

“it’s about the full experience, bueckers. presentation. timing. everything matters.”

paige stepped a little closer, still smiling. “you sound like a whole food network episode right now.”

“good,” azzi said, pressing a spoon into the sauce she’d been stirring, then lifting it to her lips for a quick taste. “that means i’m in my zone.”

“you always get this focused when you cook?”

azzi paused for a second, then glanced over her shoulder. “usually. but it’s different here.”

paige’s brows lifted slightly. “different how?”

“you’re here.”

there was a beat of silence.

paige didn’t say anything right away, just walked slowly over until she was standing right next to azzi at the counter. she looked at the rows of spices, the sauce simmering on the stove, then finally back at azzi.

“that’s a good thing, right?”

azzi turned to face her fully, their arms almost brushing. “yeah. it is.”

paige’s eyes lingered, softer now. “cool. just making sure.”

azzi looked away first, chuckling under her breath. “you’re annoying.”

“and you’re flustered.”

“am not.”

“are too.”

“you wanna chop the scallions or what?”

“not unless you wanna risk losing a finger. chef fudd got it covered.”

they both laughed, the kitchen settling into a comfortable rhythm again—paige watching, azzi focused, the space between them quietly buzzing with something neither one of them wanted to name just yet.

the dish was plated perfectly. azzi always took her time with presentation, especially when she was testing out a new recipe. two plates sat on the island, the aroma making paige lean in instinctively.

“this looks insane,” paige said, already reaching for her fork.

“wait,” azzi warned, holding up a hand. “let me take a picture first.”

paige groaned but leaned back, laughing. “you’re such a chef.”

“and you’re lucky to be eating this for free.”

“don’t remind me.”

azzi quickly snapped a photo, adjusting the angle slightly before nodding. “okay. now you can eat.”

paige wasted no time. she took a bite, her eyes widening almost instantly. “okay—who gave you the right?”

azzi just smiled, resting her chin in her hand as she watched paige chew. “good?”

“azzi. be serious. this is the best thing i’ve had in my life.”

“you said that last week.”

“i meant it then. i mean it now.”

azzi tried to play it cool, but the pink that dusted her cheeks gave her away. she picked up her own fork and took a bite, humming softly at the taste. it was really good. she could admit that.

they ate quietly for a few minutes, the kind of quiet that felt full. like neither one of them needed to speak to feel something.

eventually, paige broke the silence. “so, is this going on your page?”

azzi looked up, a bit surprised by the question. “probably. why?”

paige shrugged, swirling a piece of food with her fork. “i don’t know. it just feels… different. like this was made for me, not for the camera.”

azzi’s heart skipped.

“it was,” she said before she could stop herself. “i mean… you were the first person i thought about when i was trying to figure out what to make.”

paige looked at her, fork stilling.

“well,” she said quietly, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “for the record… i’d eat whatever you made. even if it sucked.”

azzi snorted. “you’re annoying.”

“and you’re soft.”

“shut up.”

“no, seriously,” paige leaned forward, eyes sparkling a little. “thank you for this.”

azzi didn’t answer right away, just gave her a small nod and looked down at her plate again. but her smile—her smile said everything.

-

paige tossed the last of the throw pillows onto the couch before stepping back with a satisfied nod. “okay. we’re officially cozy.”

azzi walked in with a bowl of popcorn in one hand and a blanket tucked under her arm. “i still don’t understand why we need all these pillows for two people.”

“because comfort is a lifestyle,” paige said matter-of-factly, grabbing the bowl from azzi. “also, you move a lot when you sit. the pillows are a buffer.”

“wow.” azzi raised an eyebrow. “you just called me chaotic in the nicest way possible.”

“i call it like i see it.”

azzi rolled her eyes but smiled, dropping the blanket down on the couch before settling in. “so what are we watching?”

“you picked last time.”

“so?”

“azzi…”

“ugh, fine,” she groaned, pulling her legs up under her. “but if you pick something boring, i’m making dessert in the middle of it.”

“deal,” paige said with a grin as she scrolled through the options. “but i won’t. i’m feeling generous tonight.”

the sound of the tv filled the space, warm and low. paige eventually landed on a comedy, something light and stupid enough that they wouldn’t be too locked in. she plopped down next to azzi, close but not too close—just enough that their arms would brush if either of them shifted.

halfway through the movie, the popcorn was gone, azzi had stolen a pillow to hug, and paige had long abandoned sitting up straight. she was leaned back, her legs stretched out, one hand resting lazily over the back of the couch—right behind azzi’s head.

neither of them said much, but every now and then they’d glance at each other, smile at the same lines, or laugh a little too hard at the same dumb jokes.

“you’re really not gonna make dessert?” paige asked during a quiet part of the movie, her voice lower now, more relaxed.

“you said the movie wouldn’t be boring,” azzi teased, glancing at her from the side. “you lucked out.”

“mm. i’ll take it.” she paused. “this is nice.”

“yeah,” azzi said, softer now. “it is.”

a comfortable silence fell over them again. and when azzi adjusted slightly, leaning just a little more into the couch cushion… she felt paige’s fingers graze the back of her shoulder, casual but lingering.

neither of them said anything.

but both of them felt it.

the credits started rolling, the volume low, but neither of them reached for the remote. azzi was curled into the corner of the couch, a blanket now wrapped loosely around her legs, her head tilted toward the screen though her eyes weren’t really watching it.

paige, stretched out beside her, finally spoke.

“so, what’d you think?”

azzi glanced at her. “about the movie?”

“yeah.”

“eh. seven outta ten,” she said with a teasing smirk. “the popcorn was better.”

paige laughed. “so you’re saying i saved us by not making you get up and bake.”

“exactly. you’re welcome.”

paige looked over at her, her smile slowly fading into something smaller, gentler. she leaned forward to grab the remote and clicked the tv off, the screen going dark and leaving them in the quiet glow of the living room lamp.

“you know,” she said after a moment, “this is probably the most i’ve relaxed in a while.”

azzi blinked, surprised by her honesty. “really?”

“mmhmm,” paige nodded. “my life’s usually just… basketball, media, traveling, repeat. even when i’m home, i don’t really feel like i’m here, you know?”

azzi hummed, her voice low. “but you feel here now?”

paige looked at her for a second too long. “yeah. weird, huh?”

azzi didn’t look away. “not weird.”

they sat like that—facing each other, something silent building in the space between them. azzi shifted a little, suddenly aware of how close they were. she could feel paige’s warmth beside her. not touching, but close enough.

“you tired?” paige asked, voice quiet.

azzi shook her head. “not really.”

“good,” paige said, and then she hesitated. “mind if we just… sit here? for a little longer.”

azzi smiled gently. “no. i don’t mind.”

and so they stayed like that.

not saying much.

not needing to.

and for once, silence didn’t feel like space between them—

it felt like something shared.

paige pulled the blanket over her lap, her movements unhurried. she glanced over at azzi again, catching the way the chef’s eyes followed her hand without even thinking. it made her grin.

“you always this quiet?” she asked, her tone light.

azzi let out a soft breath of a laugh. “when i’m comfortable… yeah.”

“so you’re comfortable.”

“a little,” azzi said, teasing, her voice barely above a whisper.

paige tilted her head, smiling. “good.”

the room settled into quiet again, but it wasn’t awkward—it was the kind of quiet that comes after a long day and a warm meal, when both people are content just being near each other.

azzi leaned her head back against the couch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “you ever get scared of how fast time goes?”

paige looked over at her. “sometimes.”

“i do,” azzi admitted. “like, one day i was just a kid helping my mom cook breakfast, and now i’m here… living in someone else’s home, cooking in someone else’s kitchen.”

paige didn’t say anything for a second. then—

“you say that like you don’t belong here.”

azzi opened her eyes, her gaze meeting paige’s.

“but you do,” paige continued. “i don’t think you realize how easy you’ve made it for me to come home. how much better it feels.”

azzi blinked slowly, her eyes soft. “thank you.”

“you don’t have to thank me,” paige murmured. “just… don’t think this isn’t your space too.”

there was a beat of quiet between them, like something unspoken just settled into place.

azzi looked away first, her voice gentle. “you make it easy to feel at home.”

paige smiled, a quiet kind of proud. “then i’m doing something right.”

they didn’t talk much more after that. not because there wasn’t more to say—just because sometimes, sharing a couch and a little silence was enough.

and that night, when they both went to bed…

they both slept a little easier.

[lisssyyu]

Eternity to taste

PAIRINGS: Caitlyn Kiramman x wife!f!reader

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As you may have noticed, I really like to write with an emphasis on psychology (which is funny, because I am a lawyer by profession), so the second part may be (!) the last. In general, I really like writing in this genre, especially about the game Signalis, and maybe I'll even post a couple of fics about this fandom.

WARNING(S): Mention of violence; possession; control; implied manipulation; power imbalance; age difference (!Caitlin 28, !reader 22) ;; mention of pregnancy

wc: 6.3k

parts: 1 ;; 2 ;; ?

You no longer remembered how the street smelled, how noisy the main square was on holidays. The world that once seemed so alive and close had now dissolved into a fog, like an old photograph faded by time.

You only knew that Caitlyn drank coffee with milk, that on Tuesdays her gloves smelled of cold metal, and on Saturdays of lilacs. You knew that she always asked you to tie her tie, even though she could do it herself.

"I'm not holding you back," she said, stroking your hair like an obedient little animal. "But where will you go? To whom?"

You tried to imagine it. The city, the air, your friends. But if those thoughts had once brought a smile to your face, now your heart tightened into a knot of fear. The world had become huge and alien, frightening without her.

"They don't understand you," Caitlyn whispered, her voice growing colder and harder with every word. "They always laughed behind your back. I saw it."

You listened to her words in silence, but inside you were feeling something completely different. It was scary, not just because of what Caitlyn was saying, but because somewhere deep inside you, her words were starting to ring true.

Maybe it was true that no one was waiting for you outside the walls of this house. That your friends had long since turned their backs on you. That the world was too cruel to accept you as you were.

You felt more and more strongly how your former self that brave, lively person who once took to the streets with hope and dreams was slowly dissolving. Its place was filled with a cold, empty fear of being alone, of forgetting yourself and losing everything that was even remotely important.

Caitlyn was the one who never leaves, who harshly but unwaveringly keeps you on this precarious edge. There is no room for doubt in her voice, which means that your desire to argue with the reality she creates begins to die. You cling to her words like a lifeline, because who else but her will be there when everything falls apart?

You no longer want to resist, because resistance means being completely alone. And being alone means disappearing.

And now you are her little two. The one who belongs to her, who lives in her shadow and breathes to her rhythm. And even if a faint glimmer of your former self remains deep in your soul, it drowns in this incessant whisper:

"Only I need you. No one else needs you."

And this has become your eternal prayer.

"What's that?"

You looked down at your lap. There lay a book you had found by chance while cleaning. The house was getting colder and lonelier, especially when Caitlyn left for long shifts. You thought reading would help distract you.

"Just a novel," you whispered, feeling your voice tremble. "I got bored."

She approached, and there was no anger in her gaze, only weary cruelty, as if you had once again failed to meet her expectations.

"Are you bored with me?"

Your breath caught, the words slipping out in a mistake you would pay dearly for. Caitlyn stood almost close enough to touch, her cold presence squeezing you like a steel grip.

"I'm leaving for twelve hours. I kill for order. And you… are you bored here?"

You wanted to crawl back, but the back of the sofa behind you prevented you from doing so.

"I'm sorry," you breathed, already knowing it would lead nowhere.

"You're always apologizing. You know who else apologizes? Weaklings."

She grabbed the book with the force of someone tearing off a bandage, without pity, and threw it against the wall so that the pages scattered like feathers.

"I feed you, clothe you, keep you warm, while outside people are killing each other for crumbs of bread. I pulled you out of that filth, out of that city where you would have died at the first intersection if it weren't for me."

She leaned toward you and grabbed your chin sharply, forcing you to look up.

"And you really think you have the right to be bored?"

You wanted to argue, to say, "I was just reading," but your mouth was dry and the words stuck in your throat.

"Look at yourself," she hissed in your face. "Pathetic, scared, shaking like a rabbit. Do you really believe that anyone but me cares about you?"

You shook your head.

"That's a good girl," she said, as if it were a reward.

Caitlyn kissed you on the temple almost tenderly, but that kiss concealed the same power that had recently torn your soul apart.

"I love you, you know that," her voice became quieter and lost its former sharpness, "but when you disappoint me… I can't control my anger."

Over time, fear and anxiety began to recede, but not disappear. Rather, they hid somewhere deep inside, like animals huddled in a warm burrow.

In their place, habit took hold. The day consisted of repetitive gestures: the creak of the front door lock at exactly seven in the evening; the muffled rustle of a coat; heavy breathing before Caitlyn shook the city cold off her shoulders. You met her at the doorframe with an almost smile.

The skin of your palms remembered the roughness of wet fabric, shoulders, a tiny tremor under a uniform that smelled of gun oil. She let you help her, let you take off her gloves, touched your cheek with her fingers as a sign of her presence. And in that moment, the house became the center of the world, the only safe island amid the strange, wind-swept streets.

You learned to read her pauses. If her footsteps were heavy, you poured strong tea; if they glided almost silently, you made a decoction of oregano and mint.

Those evenings flowed smoothly, almost sleepily. She talked about the patrols in fragments: "two detained," "smuggling at the locks again." You just nodded. With each "yes" and "I understand," a strange calm grew inside you: if the world out there was really that cruel, then here, in the flickering circle of the lamp, you were on the right side of the glass.

The warmth from the lamp faded as you finally sat down to dinner. The dark oak table, the blanket on your shoulders, not a sound from the neighboring rooms. Caitlyn ate slowly, as if each movement marked the last breath of the day.

But today something was changing, and you sensed it before you heard it.

Caitlyn put down her fork and turned her palm toward you. There was so much confidence in this movement that the air around you immediately became denser.

You didn't know the words yet, but you could already feel their weight.

Seconds dragged on as a dull, muffled bell rang in your head. And when she spoke, the words fell into the silence without a splash, but the water beneath them cracked.

She wants a child.

The sound of these three words, barely whispered, was louder than any command. The world around her shifted, as if the house had suddenly tilted and the walls had cracked.

Your "no" didn't even have time to take shape. It was just a fleeting spark before it was extinguished in the darkness of her unshakable will. Inside, under her ribs, an invisible bird fluttered, but the cry stuck in her throat: a flat fear of returning to what had been before, to the cold streets, to the loneliness that had long since become more frightening than any loss.

You felt your hands trembling, even though they were resting on your knees, hidden under the fabric of your skirt. Images flashed through your mind: a child's cry, a small hand, the warm smell of milk, but next to them, in the same frame, stood her, tall, inevitable, with the same gaze that holds your world together.

You weren't ready. The word drifted away from your consciousness like a boat from a pier, farther and farther, until it turned into a tiny dot. And the tighter you hugged that dot, the more clearly you felt it melting away.

She rose from the table and leaned close to your ear. The tenderness of her breath burned your skin more intensely than a scream.

The stability you had grown so accustomed to cracked, and the crack spread across the walls of the house, across the edges of your heart, across the secret boundary where you end and her will begins. But the voice inside fell silent again: if ruins are the price of her love, then you will let the walls fall.

[kithtaehyung]

Hi ryen! I was watching josh johnson and he was talking about the trend/“prank” where guys call their friends to wish them goodnight and i wondered how 3tan yoongi and bro would react if they did it to each other lol

…oh my god. oh, my god.

You [10:12pm]: come here for a sec

Idiot🙄 [10:12pm]: ???

Your brother walks into your room ten seconds later, wondering why the hell you’d text him in the middle of the night if you weren’t in serious need of help.

“Oh,” you puff out from your cotton abode. “I just didn’t wanna get up.”

“…Wow.” As he turns to leave, you shoot up and stop him,

“Wait! Real quick, you have to do this.”

“Do what.”

He goes to where you beckon him with a grin, sitting on the edge of your bed and looking at your phone. You show him a video of a prank you’ve seen making the rounds, and he immediately laughs in recognition,

“I’ve seen this, yeah. And it’s weird! Why would you just tell me goodnight outta nowhere? The fuck?”

“Y’all are the ones that are weird! It’s just a good night!”

“Nah. That is a red flag if I've ever seen one. Wait, you want me to do it? To who?”

You have someone in mind, but you’re definitely not gonna say his name out loud. “I dunno, you have like a thousand friends. Pick one.”

After a quick laugh, your brother comes to the conclusion on his own. “Nah, wait, it’s gotta be Yoongi. Hold on.”

Excellent. You agree. Perfect scenario.

You get your phone ready to record, already knowing your brother is gonna put on the most ridiculous show known to man, cheeks straining with repressed anticipation.

What’s Yoongi gonna say? How’s he gonna react? Is he even gonna pick up?

The phone rings once.

Then it goes quiet as it’s answered.

“Sup.”

Immediately, your brother folds his lips to keep from laughing, and you have to smack your own mouth shut with a hand. Talk about stage fright. He looks downright embarrassed.

“Hello?”

When your brother’s voice comes out a little forced, you throw your head back and feel a burn down your throat from containing your laughter. “H-hey, Yoong, what’s up.”

“Just finishing things up at the studio. You good?”

"Yeah, man. About to head to bed."

There's a jingle of keys on the line, and your fingers slide up to your eyes then back down again as you watch your normally confident sibling fight to keep himself together.

"...And?"

A high-pitched squeak eeks from your mouth before both you and your brother double over in painful, joyfully painful silent laughter. This is going exactly how you imagined it would, even up to the way your sibling cannot sit anymore and has to result to pacing.

"Nah, that was.. That was it," he strains out in a higher pitch, unable to look at your tear-dotted eyes. "Just wanted to say goodnight, you know? You know how it goes."

The elongated silence on the line is enough to send you straight into your pillowcase. You damn near forget you're recording this whole disaster of a call.

"...Is this a joke?"

Oh, god. Your shoulders hurt as you puff into silk, and you raise your head enough to see your brother's teeth as he laughs,

"What? No! I can't even wish my bro goodnight?"

"No."

"Ah, come on, say it back."

"Pass."

Your cheeks are pulled so taut you don't know when they'll snap back to their regular shape.

Forget perfect, this has crossed the line into priceless. Leave it to your brother to twist his timidness to a place of control in a snap. Now the ball is in Yoongi's hands and you can't wait to see what he does with it.

"Come on, Yoongi,” he chides in a whine, “I'm about to pass out, lemme hear it."

What you expect is for Yoongi to go radio silent again. Or refuse again. The ambient noise on the line is normal, as always.

So both you and your brother are completely thrown speechless when you hear a tender, quiet,

"Good night to you, too."

Oh, shit.

Oh, shit!

Your mouth agape mirrors your brother's stunned expression, and a second passes before both of you completely and utterly lose it.

"Holy shit!"

"What the fuck, Yoong?"

Your laughter must sound so crunchy over the phone, because your laughs combined are so damn loud in response, yours even more so because seeing your older sibling reduced to jelly is making you wheeze.

On the speaker, you can just hear the laughter in Yoongi's voice. And it makes you miss him terribly,

"Of course."

"Damn it, man! You gotta warn me before doing that."

"Don't play games you can't win."

When he throws his head back in laughter, you grin and watch your phone recording him. "I'll remember that."

"Is it just you two?"

"Yeah, she made me do it," your brother blurts, to which you yell in response,

"Wow, snitch!"

Another laugh on the line puffs out, and you let your own out again. This was everything you imagined and more.

When they have their own conversation, you stop your video and keep laughing to yourself, more than satisfied that you initiated the prank. Doesn’t matter that your sibling walks out of the room with even more laughter, closing your door with a soft click.

Yoongi took that like a champ.

You hope your brother will take your dirty little secret just as well.

....

Right.

-

-

3tan slices: mini scenarios inspired by reader asks! series: three tangerines

[girllblogging777]

IN WHICH you force spencer to help you with the only thing he doesn’t know about. makeup.

the video of your makeup routine pops up on your phone, and you press the mic to record the voiceover, a smile on your face “go ahead baby…”

spencer braces himself, rolling his eyes “remind me why i agreed to do this again ?”

“because you love me, obviously” you answered with a shrug, and a tilt of your head.

“right. i do”

you gesture your hand towards your phone, signalling him to finally start talking. internally, you’re giggling, because you once again got him to indulge in your weird little activities he doesn’t know the first thing about.

“ahem, so… hi, hello everyone, whoever’s watching this video of my beautiful girlfriend making herself even more beautiful. i’m spencer… spencer reid - the boyfriend, and i’m supposed to explain what exactly she’s doing in this clip.”

you grin and give him a thumbs up, motivating him to keep going.

“so, she begins by washing her face with some fancy cleanser, which is very important because it maintains hydration, prevents breakouts, exfoliates and removes dead skin, - too many details ? right, sorry.”

he purses his lips when you glare at him, amused.

“then, she proceeds to use some serum, as well as eye cream and moisturiser, which surprisingly works wonders - don’t ask why i know, just… i know. and she also uses sunscreen, as all of you should because, well… it prevents aging and skin cancer.”

but then, the clip shows you opening your makeup bag, and his eyes widen a bit.

“uh, now’s the part where my IQ slashes to 60… this is uh… foundation ? oh no, that’s concealer to conceal blemishes and eye bags she doesn’t have - damn babe, i could use some of that too. now this is foundation ! she puts it on her hand for… some reason, and applies it with a brush… so, that’s kinda like painting-“

you facepalm yourself. painting ? really ?

“wait, why is this so dark ? oh, she’s drawing shadows with a stick… to try to make it look like her nose is tiny and her cheekbones are sharp… baby, you really don’t need that-“

okay, this was really getting amusing to watch, especially because he was analysing the video so carefully, his brows furrowed as he stared at the phone.

“glitter ! liquid glitter… on her cheeks. wait, that’s why you always look so glowy… gives her that ethereal look, you know ? i very much approve of the glitter. oh, and that’s blush. i know that too. but my favourite blush is the one she gets when i kiss her. or the one she’s got right now because i’m very much embarrassing her-“

he’s looking up at you, smiling like an idiot before you point back at the phone.

“right, sorry. i got distracted. baby, who’s even gonna watch that, seriously ? this is some fancy powder… i don’t exactly know what it’s for, but it originates from ancient egypt !”

“spence, come on”

“this is mascara, i know that too… woah, is that some kind of torture device ? hey, what are you doing to your lashes !”

you giggle, covering your mouth as he goes on about the lash curler.

“this is a pencil. for her lips. she uses it like twenty times a day, but i don’t know why. it tastes bad too. oh, and the lipgloss of course, couldn’t forget the lipgloss.”

his words are slowed down, because he’s too busy staring at your lips on the screen.

“uhm… and now she’s spraying something all over her face ? i’m guessing that means we’re done, damn, that was something. thank you for listening, i hope you enjoyed this video because i sure did - enjoy the video, not voiceovering it”

and with that, you take the phone from his hand, pressing the stop button. he lets out a relieved sigh, looking at you with puppy eyes. “how did i do ?”

“not bad at all, spence. but glitter, really ?”

of course, over the next few weeks, the girls at the BAU never stopped teasing him about it. jj kept calling him a “lovefool” and when emily asked penelope for her lash curler, they both warned him “careful, genius, we’ve got a torture device in the room”

okay, makeup may not have been the subject he mastered the most. but he was still glad he had complied and made the stupid video with you, because the smile that had formed on your face back then might have been the most precious thing he’d ever witnessed.

no makeup needed.

[kurizz]

Pink Poly Club (miromabby) Part 3

click for part 2

Summary: They successfully dashed out of the studio. But it started raining heavily outside, making it unsafe to drive. Mira, not wanting to let them know where she lives, ended up at their place instead. She needed to relax after being stressed out by that interview.

Word count: 1127

a/n: gotta clarify that it's an alternate universe where the saja boys are regular humans.

-----

Maybe she should’ve just checked into a hotel. But after that stunt they pulled earlier, that would've been a terrible idea. Without Bobby or the rest of the company staff around, people would gather and ask questions. Too many questions.

Mira sank into their couch with a weary sigh, tossing her feet up on the small table. “Don’t get any funny ideas,” she muttered. “I just needed to relax, so I took the offer.”

“Hot cocoa? Something to drink?” Romance lazily called from the kitchen, clinking around in the cabinets. “Abs, turn up the heater. It's freezing in here.”

“On it,” Abby replied, already moving.

He was right—it was getting cold.

Mira stared out through the tall windows, the curtains were pushed to the side. It displayed how the rain lashed the glass in harsh, steady bursts. Bobby was probably still pacing, worried sick about where she’d gone after ducking out of the studio earlier than scheduled. She had told him the truth. Not that it helped. It only added to his worries. 

The girls would surely want in on everything. She’d tell them when they meet. For now, her phone was shut. She needed to relax.

“Once the rain stops, I’m heading home.”

Romance hummed. She hadn’t even answered his question.

“Feet down, please,” he called out, holding two mugs of hot cocoa.

She dropped her feet on the floor quickly.

He set one mug in front of her. “Here. Have a drink.”

“I didn’t say I wanted one.”

He slowly raised a brow, “I’ll drink it then. You sure you don’t want it?”

“I…I’ll have it,” she grumbled, grabbing the mug from the table.

The couch creaked as Abby plopped down beside her, leaning in towards the mug in her hands. “Careful, it’s hot. Let me help.”

He wrapped his hands over hers and guided the cup closer to his mouth, trying to blow away the steam.

Mira recoiled, eyes wide. “Stop! You’re getting your saliva all over it!”

Abby paused, stunned. Romance slapped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Mira was fuming, she wanted to pull the mug away from Abby but she was careful not to spill it.

Abby let go and slumped back, turning his head away like a kicked puppy. Was he sulking now?

Romance drew in a deep breath, trying to keep it together. That earned him a glare from Abby, “You’re really enjoying this.”

Romance grinned. “Don’t be mad just because I’m her favorite.”

Abby turned his glare on Mira.

She returned it right back. “I don’t like either of you. I could’ve blown on it myself.”

“I was trying to be nice.”

“By spitting on my drink?”

Abby’s ears turned red, his glare was more of a pout than a threat. Why did that make him kind of…cute?

“Forget it.”

“I can't drink this anymore,” Mira grumbled, setting the mug down. She leaned her back onto the couch and rubbed her cold hands together. Abby got up and walked away. What, is he more upset now?

“Have mine instead. I haven't taken a sip yet.” Romance offered, sitting beside her.

“…thanks, if you don't mind.”

She took one sip and welcomed the warmth that entered her system. The cocoa tasted so good. But she wouldn't say that out loud. It helped rid her of the cold a bit. She needed the warmth from the drink that badly.

Romance and Mira drank hot cocoa in complete silence. The sound of harsh rain was filling up the room for them. She glanced at him sideways, wondering how long he’d stay quiet. Oddly, it felt comforting.

Then, there were loud footsteps. She paid it no mind and focused on her drink, knowing it was just Abby coming back to the living room. His steps grew closer. A warm blanket was draped over her shoulders, the fresh lavender scent engulfed her senses. She was pleasantly surprised. So, that’s what he was up to.

Abby also tossed one blanket to Romance. He was wrapped in one himself, a small frown still evident on his lips. He said nothing and only sat on her other side—the one unoccupied by Romance—in silence.

Mira sighed, giving in. “Thanks,” she whispered softly.

Abby pretended not to look pleased, “No problem.”

He wrapped the blanket around himself tighter. Romance was still sipping on his cup.

There it was again. That stretch of silence surrounding them. If it weren't for the rain, she would've assumed that her hearing was gone.

Normally, they were chatty. Teasing her left and right, trying to get a reaction out of her. She wasn't sure if she preferred this side over their playful side. This definitely was new. She hummed in thought, setting down her mug once she finished drinking.

“I didn't get to say thank you earlier.” she paused, waiting for them to respond. Once they didn't, she kept going. “You must've known I was uncomfortable so you took me out of there.”

“Not sure what you mean.” Romance pretended to be fascinated by his mug, he wouldn't even look at her.

“Don't start thinking we did it for you.” Abby murmured, “…because we did.”

This time, it was her turn not to respond. They did it first, anyway.

Out of nowhere, Abby rested his forehead on her shoulder. “Just a few minutes…I won't do anything else.”

His voice was low and soft. It had a mild pleading tone to it that sent a delicious shiver down her spine. He was way too close, the heat from his body threatened to consume her. She couldn't help but fix her posture—it only made Abby scoot closer.

Romance sighed, grabbing her attention. He nuzzled his head on the other side of her shoulder, “I can't help it anymore. Give me a few minutes too, Mira.”

“What are you guys…”

She didn't know what to do. That awful fuzziness she felt in her chest was clearly trouble. She doesn't need it, go away. Why is she giving in…clearly it must be the weather. It's messing up with her way of thinking.

She plopped her head back, her gaze softening as it met the ceiling. She wouldn't admit it, but this felt nice. Being wrapped in a blanket and almost cuddled up amidst the heavy rain outside made her slightly woozy, her eyelids getting heavy.

She closed her eyes, but reminded herself not to sleep. She's just going to rest for a bit. Just for a bit. It’s fine.

Minutes went by.

Abby noticed the rain had subsided, so he pointed it out.

Weirdly enough, Mira hadn't had the urge to get up and leave anymore, but she had to go. She had to go before they let the moment carry them away.

-----

a/n: still getting a hang of this thing. btw, my fingers were itching not to italicize almost everything. also, golden is just so good of a song but so hard to sing—my voice cracked like rumi in their practice. probably the only thing we have in common.

author's note? no. author's ramble.

@suzieq1948374 @unmooredandfulloftrepidation

[menofcolorswitchbodiesagain]

Vacation Swap by @menofcolorswitchbodiesagain

Waking up in those bodies felt like a trip down the hairy rabbit hole. They were huge, hairy, and definitely not what they were used to. It was like being in someone else's skin, quite literally.

The two twinks found themselves stuck in the bodies of 40-year-old bears after a wild decision to try out a shady body swap service. They thought it would be a thrill, a temporary escape from their usual selves. But now, as they looked at their massive arms and burly frames, they couldn't help but wonder if they had made a huge mistake.

"Whoa," one of them said, his words punctuated by the richness of his low bear voice. "Listen to us! We sound like we belong in a lumberjack commercial or something."

Running their hands over the thick fur that coated their chests and arms, they exchanged bewildered glances. They were used to smooth skin, not this dense forest of hair. It was like they had become walking, talking teddy bears overnight.

One of them ran a hand through the thick chest hair, marveling at its density.

"Dude, check this out," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. "I've never seen so much hair in my life. I feel like Bigfoot."

His friend chuckled. "Tell me about it. I could probably hide a sandwich in here and forget about it."

They weren't sure what happened to their original bodies. Did those guys decide to keep them, or were they freaking out somewhere, stuck in the twinks' bodies? The thought was enough to give them a shiver.

His friend grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Yeah, we could give those guys a run for their money. I've never felt so manly in my life."

Vacation Swap by @mentobein2

Life as 40-year-old bears was going to be one wild ride, that was for sure. They were out of their depth, swimming in uncharted waters. But hey, at least they were in it together. And who knew? Maybe they'd grow to love their new identities, hairy chests and all. Only time would tell.

There is an appeal in jumping into a new body on a vacation. It’s truly liberating to see a life through the eyes of another. My husband and I decided to schedule a body swap through a secretive vacation agency. We only got the appointment with a referral from a wealthy friend. Apparently these kinds of body swaps are highly illegal, but quite sought after in the right community.

My husband and I just showed up for our appointment where we woke up in these two twinks. I’ve never been so thin and white. it’s gonna be fun being in these bodies for a little bit.

Maybe we won’t show up for the swap back. Maybe this is us now. Maybe these two guys now have to live life as 40-year-old bears. I think so.

[karasbroken]

Yes, all of this, absolutely, but especially how it's not a big plot point that keeps getting hammered on, but just a quiet evolution is a big reason why I love this show. It isn't technically serialized but every episode matters in some way, makes an irrevocable change, alters relationships, has lasting subtle effects.

Even the "oh we'll just erase this like it never happened" episode, The Locket, did not actually forget about the events. Not only did the memories from that episode linger in both Aeryn's and John's subconscious, I am also convinced that without The Locket, Season of Death wouldn't have happened. Because Stark and Zhaan, especially Zhaan, were the only ones who witnessed that John and Aeryn had a whole potential life together. A decades-long intimate and loving connection that was possible--but not yet realized--at the moment Scorpius took over John's body and killed her.

No, the show never had Zhaan say, "I love John and I know that he'll never recover from this, and I know how beautiful they can be together, so I'm going to trade my life for hers, and feel content in that decision." But like good literature, Farscape has a lot to offer the "close reader" and I love that so much.

And just to bring it back to Aeryn and science/technology.... Their romance is a journey where they are opposites, who both become more like each other, then change places, and finally move into perfect alignment. (Thesis, antithesis, synthesis!) I can't help but notice how as the series progresses they spend more and more time fixing things together, Aeryn becoming as capable as John at the repair work, especially with Leviathan tech (that lingering, unsaid callback to DNA Mad Scientist).

That awful heartbreaking scene in Fractures where they're fixing the transport pod together, not talking, hurts so much because just a few episodes before they were fighting not to frell as they fixed Talyn. And to me, there's also that distant distant echo of their earliest days, The Flax, their first kiss, in a broken Leviathan transport pod when she didn't know how to fix one, and didn't want to learn. But she did, and how to fix John too, because Aeryn always does what she has to, including change.

Ugh I love this show.

@justpillowtalkbaby and I are watching Farscape for the first time, and we're now a ways through season 2, and I want to talk about Aeryn for a bit.

When we're introduced to her, she is nothing but a soldier for the Peacekeepers, and she fully conceptualises herself as a weapon in the hands of her superiors. Even when she's freed from the Peacekeepers (or abandoned by them, however you want to see it), she keeps seeing herself that way.

Except the situations Farscape's corner of the universe throws at Moya and her crew don't necessarily need a soldier or a weapon much of the time, and Aeryn keeps finding herself in situation where the problem needs a science officer, and John and Zaahn are both unavailable, and it's not like Pilot can move, so she has to do it.

And every time, she resists this, because this isn't her job, she doesn't do this. Fuck off, this isn't her. The first few times, she has to be talked through the whole process because it goes against her mentality to such a great extent.

Except at the end, she has a solution in her hands. A solution she put together, and goddamnit, despite herself she's feeling remarkably proud of this achievement. She won't tell anyone this, of course. She's a soldier, and those shows of emotion are inappropriate, but, you know, maybe she gets to be a little smug about it.

Now, a lot of whacky shit happens to her (like being fused with Pilot's DNA for a bit), because Farscape's corner of the universe isn't particularly kind to notions of bodily integrity and autonomy (in universe, of course; the show itself is very interested in exploring how horrifying it is when this gets messed with), so she gets helped along the way by necessity as well as forced shifts in perspective (like the aforementioned DNA fusion), but she eventually starts to complain less about having to do chemistry again.

It becomes something she's genuinely proud of, and she isn't actually afraid to show this. It allows her to feel useful in a way that's entirely hers, instead of shaped by the Peacekeepers, and you can really tell how this is what freedom means for her, and how much more comfortable she is in her own skin.

But the thing that makes this work is that there's never an episode that is About Aeryn's Feelings About Science. It's just a thing that slowly happens in the background of a lot of episodes, and I really appreciate that.

[n01likeu]

Everything.

MINOR DO NOT INTERACT.

Paring: Choi San x Reader Word count: 6k Genre: Exploring themes of longing, control, and explicit intimacy within a relationship facing external familial conflict. Dom!reader, softdom!san, sub!san. Beg beg beg. Please note: This content is for mature audiences due to explicit sexual themes. It contains elements of emotional manipulation, toxic relationship, and power dynamics, as well as descriptions of crying, anxiety, and self-esteem issues. There are also mentions of consensual, safe, and aftercare. Self-indulgent. Reader discretion is advised. Author note: Please, lovies. Give me a heads up if I forgot to mention something that I needed to add, or if there’s any errors. I am new to this, and it’s my first time uploading my work here. I didn’t fully checked my work, do expect some errors, lovies. English is not my first language, bear with me. Happy reading.

You hate him so much. You despise him. Your coping mechanism is to hate your ex, even though you both ended on good terms. All you can think of are the things he did that made you frown—ick, rather. You loathe San. Oh, not really. You ended things with him because of your grandparents. They wanted you to focus on your future by studying business management to take over their company. You’re sick of this. Your parents can’t even protest; they obey as well. They love San, and they want him for you. Too bad, because they also want a “better future” for you.

It’s almost been a month since you last saw him face-to-face. You’ve done everything you could: visiting different cafes with your friends, going out to a park with your dog, isolating yourself in a library, and trying new recipes for pastries within that month. But in the end, San is still in your mind. You keep thinking that he’s supposed to be with you, visiting those new cafes, playing with your dog out in the park, reading books together in a library (but he’d be looking at you, not even a single glance at the upside-down book he’s holding), and baking with you using his passed-down recipes from his great-grandmother. It pisses you off so bad that every time you think of doing something, there’s always a reserved space for him. You hate him because there’s no other thing that could help you forget him since you did it all with him for over six years. You’re in your second year of college, all fucked up, rotting in your bed. Your best friend Ningning had visited your apartment just a few hours ago to lighten you up, knowing you’re not fully okay after finals and your endless reminiscing of San. You felt sorry for your best friend, but she reassured you it was all fine. Satan must be having fun... fucking my life in every way, you thought to yourself.

You’re staring at your ceiling, and now you’re thinking of your ex. You miss how he used to trace imaginary patterns on your arm when you were lying next to him, how his laugh would fill your apartment, making even the emptiest days feel vibrant. You miss the way he’d pull you into unexpected hugs, smelling faintly of the coffee shop he worked at and his subtle, comforting cologne. You miss his endless patience when you were struggling with an assignment, sitting quietly beside you, offering a reassuring squeeze of your hand every now and then. You even miss his annoying habit of leaving his socks by the bed, because at least then you knew he was there. A sharp pang echoes in your chest. It’s not just the absence of him, but the gaping hole where your shared future used to be. Every dream you ever spun, every “what if” scenario, every plan for five, ten, even twenty years down the line, had his face in it. Now, it’s just a blurry, undefined expanse, shadowed by your grandparents’ “better future” and the weight of their company. You clench your jaw, a bitter taste filling your mouth. This isn’t your future; it’s theirs. And you resent it. You resent them. But most of all, you resent San for being so unforgettable, for being so intrinsically woven into the fabric of your life that even tearing him out leaves a ragged, bleeding edge. You close your eyes, wishing for sleep, for oblivion, for anything that could silence the unwavering echo of his memory. But even in the darkness, you can still feel the ghost of his hand in yours, a phantom warmth that refuses to fade.

The city lights hummed around you, a stark contrast to the quiet ache in your chest. You’d decided to brave one of your old haunts tonight—a small, dimly lit bar with good music and even better cocktails, hoping to drown out the persistent thoughts of San. The air was thick with the scent of whiskey and faint perfume as you nursed your drink, tracing patterns on the condensation of your glass. Suddenly, a shift in the ambient noise, a subtle change in the energy of the room, snagged your attention. You didn’t even have to look up. You felt him. Every nerve ending in your body tingled with an electric awareness. Your breath hitched. He was here. Your eyes finally lifted, drawn across the smoky room as if by an invisible string. And there he was. San. He was standing by the bar, talking to the bartender, but his gaze, hot and familiar, was already locked onto yours. The casual hum of conversations, the clinking of glasses, the music—it all faded into a distant murmur. There was only him. And you.

He started to move, not directly towards you, but as if on a circuit, heading towards the restrooms, a path that would take him directly past your table. Your heart hammered against your ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence that now enveloped you. As he approached, his eyes never left yours, a silent, potent conversation passing between you. There was no awkward smile, no forced pleasantry. Just a raw, undeniable hunger in his gaze that mirrored your own. As he drew level with your seat, his pace barely faltered. His hand, warm and calloused, brushed against your lower back, a deliberate, lingering touch that sent a searing current through you. It was a familiar ghost, a memory of countless other touches that had promised so much more. He didn’t stop, didn’t speak, but the brief contact was an explosion of suppressed desire, an unspoken question hanging heavy in the air. You watched his retreating back, your skin still humming from his touch. You knew exactly what that meant. And you knew, with a terrifying certainty, that you were going to follow.

As San moved past, the spot on your lower back where his hand had lingered burned like a brand. The air around you crackled with unspoken tension. Your breath felt shallow, caught somewhere in your throat. You watched the line of his shoulders beneath the dark jacket, the way his dark hair caught the dim light. It had been almost a month, but the sight of him, that look in his eyes, the brief, deliberate touch—it had ripped through your carefully constructed walls of indifference. Your mind raced, a chaotic jumble of longing, resentment, and that undeniable, insistent pull of physical attraction. You hated him for doing this to you, for disrupting the fragile peace you’d been trying to build. But a louder voice, a more primal instinct, was screaming something completely different.

Without conscious thought, you pushed yourself to your feet, your chair scraping slightly against the wooden floor. The sound seemed amplified in the sudden quiet that had descended around you. You hesitated for a fraction of a second, a sliver of your rational mind screaming at you to sit back down, to ignore the magnetic force drawing you in. But the memory of his touch, the intensity in his eyes that mirrored your own buried desires, was too strong to resist. You took a step, then another, your gaze fixed on San’s broad back as he disappeared through the door marked “Restroom.” You knew he hadn’t actually needed to use them. This was a silent invitation, a pretense.

Taking a deep breath, the humid night air clinging to your skin as the bar door briefly opened and closed, you followed. The dimly lit hallway leading to the restrooms felt thick with anticipation. The sounds of the bar faded behind you, replaced by a low hum of the air conditioning. You knew what you were about to do. And despite the turmoil in your heart, a part of you, a deeply buried, fiercely yearning part, couldn’t deny the electric thrill of it.

You reached the restroom door and paused, your hand hovering over the cool metal handle. The low murmur of male voices could be heard from within. Taking one last shaky breath, you pushed the door open and stepped inside. San was leaning against the sink, arms crossed, his gaze already on you, that same intense, knowing look still blazing in his eyes. The air crackled. The game had begun again.

He was still leaning against the sink, his arms crossed over the glossy texture of his jacket, the silver chain around his neck catching the faint light from the overhead fixture. His dark hair, slightly disheveled, framed a face that was both impossibly familiar and unnervingly alluring in the muted light. His eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, devoured you. There was no casual greeting, no “fancy meeting you here.” His gaze alone was a physical touch, tracing every curve, every shadow. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, yet vibrating with an unspoken language only the two of you understood. It was the language of six years of shared history, of bodies that knew each other intimately, of a passion that had never truly died, only been forcibly buried. You felt your cheeks flush, a wave of heat spreading through you that had nothing to do with the humid night. You wanted to look away or flee, to break the potent spell, but you couldn't. You were a moth to his flame, drawn in by the sheer magnetic force of his presence.

He pushed off the sink, taking one slow, deliberate step towards you. Then another. The small space of the restroom felt even smaller, every inch of it shrinking until it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. The faint scent of stale cigarette smoke and generic air freshener was obliterated by the clean, distinct scent of him—something woody and slightly musky, utterly San. His hand rose, slowly, as if in a dream, and he reached out. His fingers didn’t go for your face or your hair. Instead, they settled on the sensitive skin of your neck, his thumb brushing lightly over your pulse point. The contact was electric, sending shivers down your spine and igniting a fire in your core. It was a possessive gesture, a silent claim.

“You followed,” he murmured, his voice a low, rough rasp that sent another jolt through you. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of fact, laced with triumph and a raw, carnal anticipation. His eyes dropped from yours, trailing slowly down your face, lingering on your lips. Your breath hitched. Your body was already betraying you, aching for his touch. The fight you’d been putting up for the past month dissolved like smoke. All the reasons you shouldn’t, all the ‘what-ifs’ about your grandparents and your future, vanished. There was only this moment, this man, and the undeniable truth of your shared, burning desire.

“Of course, I did,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible, a confession, a surrender. “Why wouldn’t I?” You leaned into his touch, your eyes closing for a brief moment as his thumb continued its maddening rhythm on your neck. The next move, you knew, would be yours to make, or his. And it wouldn’t involve talking. You snaked your arms on the back of his neck and pressed your lips against him, closing the gap between you and San. His fingers squeeze the side of your neck—enough to make you breathe, even. San’s other hand traveled down on your ass, squeezing it, pulling you closer until you felt his hard, clothed cock. You started to grind your body against him. San let out a low groan against your mouth, a sound of pure pleasure that vibrated through your entire body. He deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a passionate dance. The pressure on your neck eased slightly, allowing for more comfortable breathing, but his grip on your ass remained firm, keeping your bodies tightly pressed together. You could feel the undeniable heat radiating from him, mirroring the inferno building within you. Every grind of your hips against his was met with an eager pushback, a silent language of escalating desire. The air around you crackled with an unspoken urgency, a shared need that threatened to consume you both. You felt yourself getting dizzy, not from lack of air, but from the intoxicating rush of his presence, the raw intensity of the moment. The world outside of his embrace faded into a blurry background, and all that existed was the pounding of your hearts, the delicious friction of your bodies, and the promise of what was yet to come.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air, your forehead resting against his. His eyes, dark with desire, met yours. “God, you drive me insane,” he breathed, his voice thick and rough. His thumb, still on your neck, traced the line of your jaw, sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh, really?” You purred back, a mischievous glint in your eyes, a slight smirk playing on your lips. You could feel the frantic beat of your heart against his chest. His grip on your ass didn’t lessen, keeping you flush against him, making the undeniable evidence of his arousal all the more present. Your fingers, still laced in his hair, gave a gentle, possessive tug. He chuckled, a low, husky sound that sent another wave of heat through you.

“Is it now?” He murmured, his gaze utterly devoted. “Because I feel like I’m the one about to lose my mind here... if you’d allow it.” His gaze dropped to your lips, then back to your eyes, filled with an almost desperate plea. “What kind of spell are you doing to me, beautiful?”

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his. “What do you want me to do?” You challenged softly, a hint of steel beneath the teasing sweetness in your voice. You felt him tense beneath your touch, a clear sign of his hunger and his readiness to submit. He pulled back just enough to look at you properly, a serious intensity replacing the playful glint in his eyes, now mixed with a deep, consuming adoration.

“Everything,” he said, his voice dropping to a near growl, a tone of absolute surrender. “I want you to do everything.” He squeezed your ass again, pulling you impossibly closer, his body vibrating with controlled anticipation. “And I want to do everything for you, to you, as you wish.”

You let out a soft, knowing laugh, a sound that held a hint of delicious victory. “Are you willing to do such thing, San?” You murmured, your fingers tightening around the back of his neck, pulling him a fraction of an inch closer until your lips were almost touching again. Your gaze dropped to his mouth, then back up to his eyes, watching the worship intensify.

“Please, love. Let me feel you. Let me fuck you right here, please.” Your hand moved from his neck, trailing slowly down his chest, resting over his heart, which was pounding a frantic rhythm. You felt his sharp intake of breath, a subtle shiver that ran through him. You could feel the undeniable strength of his body, the hard planes of his muscles, yet he was utterly still beneath your touch, waiting.

“Begging already?” you whispered, your voice dropping to a seductive husk. “Then you’ll have to earn it, won’t you?" Tilting your head slightly, a clear signal of your will. “You hear me, San?” The words hung in the air, a silken thread of absolute will.

“Yes. Please, let me touch you…” He spoke in a low tone, grinding on your thighs. Sweating gathered on his forehead and fell down to his jaw as he breathed heavily.

“Fucking insane. I didn’t order you to grind like a dog on me,” you spat. “Kneel.” A last word that followed out of your mouth. San immediately fell to his knees, hands on his lap. Looking at you as a vulnerable piece. The dim light of the restroom played across the silk black dress, highlighting the curve of your back, the enticing hint of your thong visible as you leaned against the sink, supporting your weight.

“Eat me out. Devour me like you own me.” You looked down to San, who was reaching for your ankles, massaging them as his hands traveled up to your legs, kissing them inch by inch, worshipping your body, parting your legs as he went up to your thighs, leaving a mark, and licking them after. His eyes, dark with fervent desire, remained fixed on you as he slowly, deliberately, brought his face closer to your waiting heat. You could feel his warm breath ghosting over your most sensitive skin, sending shivers through you that were a delicious mix of anticipation and absolute control. He paused, just for a moment, a silent question in his gaze, seeking your final, unspoken approval, even as his body trembled with eagerness. You watched him, your own breath catching in your throat, the thrill of his utter devotion a potent potion. Without a verbal cue, but with a subtle shift in your weight and a slight parting of your lips, you granted him permission. His dark head dipped, and then his tongue, hot and wet, made first contact. A sharp gasp tore from your throat, your fingers instinctively gripping the cool edge of the sink behind you.

He was everything you remembered, everything you craved, and more. His movements were precise, deliberate, a worshipful exploration that left no inch of you untouched. Each flick of his tongue, each gentle suck, was designed to push you closer and closer to the edge, a master of his craft, completely consumed by the act of pleasing you. You felt the warmth spread, fire igniting in your core, and the world outside the small restroom dissolved into a blissful haze of sensation. His hands moved to cup your buttocks, lifting you slightly, pressing you more firmly against his mouth. The silk dress rode up, revealing even more of your thong-clad rear. You arched your back, a low moan escaping your lips as the intensity built. You could feel his hot breaths, hear his soft groans of pleasure, mingling with your own. He was truly devouring you, just as you’d commanded, lost in a single-minded pursuit of your satisfaction. The thought of your grandparents, your future, and the entire world outside was utterly obliterated by the exquisite reality of San at your feet, making you burn. As he continued his movements, you found yourself twisting, unable to keep still, your fingers digging into the cool porcelain of the sink. Each stroke of his tongue, each gentle pull, was a direct shot of pleasure, spiraling through you. He paused for a moment, just long enough for you to let out a frustrated whimper, before resuming with renewed intensity, as if punishing you for your impatience, yet simultaneously rewarding you with deeper sensations.

“San,” you gasped, your voice strained, barely recognizable even to your own ears. Your head fell back against the mirror, your eyes squeezed shut, the world now nothing but the rhythmic, insistent pleasure he was eliciting. He didn’t answer verbally, but the way his tongue moved and the increased pressure of his mouth told you he heard your plea and was only going to push you further. He shifted, bringing one hand to cup your mound, his thumb sweeping over your already swollen clit, while his mouth worked wonders. The combination was almost unbearable, pushing you right to the edge. You felt a soft trembling start deep within you, growing, consuming.

“Please,” you whimpered again, the word barely a breath. “San... please…” You weren’t sure what you were begging for—was it for him to stop, for him to continue, for release, for more, or for less? It was just a desperate, animalistic sound of pure need. He lifted his head for a second; his eyes, dark and glazed with his own rising passion, met yours. His face was flushed, a sheen of sweat on his forehead, his lips glistening.

“Beg for it, doll,” he murmured, his voice a low, rough rumble against your skin, just before his mouth closed over you again, sending a jolt that made your toes curl.

A whimper tore through you. “San, I—I need—” Your words broke off into a choked cry as he intensified his service, driving you closer to the edge than you thought possible. “Please... please, I’m almost there…”

He pulled back again, just a fraction, the sudden withdrawal almost painful. You whimpered, reaching out blindly, your fingers tangling in his dark hair. “Don’t stop, San. Please, don’t stop. I need you, fuck.” Your voice was raw, stripped bare of any pretense of control. “Please, baby, don’t stop, I beg you.”

His eyes burned into yours, a successful glint mixing with the absolute adoration. “Say my name,” he rasped, his breath hot against your thigh. “Say you need me.”

“San, baby. Oh god, San, I need you. Make me cum. Please, baby.” Your hips bucked instinctively against his face, a desperate plea for release. You let out a loud moan; you didn’t realized how loud you are. He watched you, a slow, sensual smile spreading on his lips as your desperation grew. He was enjoying every single second of your unraveling, your complete surrender to the sensations he was orchestrating.

“Such a good girl. Begging for me just to fuck her stupid using my mouth,” he purred, the words sending another shiver through you. And then, with a final, deep dive, he pushed you over the edge. A strangled cry ripped from your throat as your body convulsed, pleasure exploding through every nerve ending. You clutched his hair, your nails digging lightly into his scalp as your knees threatened to buckle. He held you steady, his mouth still working, catching every last tremor of your climax, devouring you completely. When the last movements ended and your breathing evened out, he finally pulled away, his face slick with your mutual pleasure. He looked up at you, his eyes still dark with a simmering desire, but now also filled with a profound, almost reverent satisfaction. He reached up, his thumb gently wiping a tear from the corner of your eye that you hadn’t even realized had fallen.

“All for you, sweet,” he breathed, his voice soft, utterly devoted. He then leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to your now-sensitive skin, a lingering, possessive touch. “Always.”

It took a few shaky moments for you to regain your composure, to find your footing again as the waves of pleasure receded, leaving you delightfully weak. San rose from his kneeling position, his movements fluid and unhurried. He didn’t speak, but his gaze, hot and possessive, lingered on your face, reading every lingering trace of your climax. He reached out, his hand gently settling on the small of your back, a silent anchor.

“We can’t stay here,” you murmured, your voice still a little breathless, the words feeling foreign and heavy in the aftermath. The fluorescent lights of the restroom, the lingering scent of disinfectant, suddenly felt stark and unwelcome after the intimate intensity of the past few minutes. San merely hummed in agreement, his thumb stroking your skin. He didn’t need words. He knew exactly what you meant, what you wanted. Your apartment. Your bed. The place where inhibitions could truly melt away. He turned, guiding you gently with his hand on your back, leading you out of the restroom and back into the muffled hum of the bar.

The transition felt surreal. The conversations and laughter of strangers seemed distant, a mere backdrop to the vibrant thrumming between you and San. You didn’t speak a word as you walked past the main bar area, past curious glances, out into the humid night. The air was thick and warm, clinging to your skin, a stark contrast to the cool air-conditioned interior of the bar. He hailed a taxi with practiced ease, opening the door for you before sliding in beside you. The ride to your apartment was a silent symphony of anticipation. Your hand found him in the darkness of the backseat, fingers intertwining, a silent promise exchanged. His thumb drew lazy circles on your knuckles, a comforting rhythm that spoke volumes. The earlier resentment, the carefully constructed walls of hatred, felt like a distant, irrelevant memory. All that mattered was the warmth of his hand, the shared heat in the small space, and the electric hum of what was coming next.

Soon enough, the taxi pulled up to your apartment building. You fumbled for your keys, your hands still trembling slightly, a small laugh escaping your lips. San took them from you, his fingers brushing yours, and effortlessly unlocked the door. He let you enter first, a silent deference that made your stomach clench in a delicious way. The apartment was dark and quiet, save for the faint glow of city lights filtering through the blinds. You kicked off your shoes, letting them fall unceremoniously to the floor. San closed the door behind him, the soft click echoing in the stillness, severing you from the outside world.

He didn’t turn on any lights. The dimness felt right, adding to the illicit intimacy of the moment. You turned to face him, the faint light catching the contours of his face, the intensity in his eyes. He reached for you, his hands cupping your face, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks.

“My love,” he whispered, his voice a low, rough reverence that sent shivers down your spine. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your eyelids, then tracing the curve of your jaw with his lips before finally finding yours. This kiss was slower, deeper than before, a lingering promise. His tongue traced your lips, asking for entry, and you readily granted it, your body already arching into his. San’s hands moved from your face, trailing down your neck, over your shoulders, and then found the hem of your black silk dress. He slowly, deliberately, began to pull it up, his eyes never leaving yours, watching for any sign, any hint of resistance. There was none. The silk glided upwards, revealing more of your legs, the smooth curve of your hips, until the thong beneath was fully exposed. San took a moment, his gaze sweeping over your exposed skin, a low groan rumbling in his chest. You reached for him too, your fingers fumbling with the zipper of his jacket, then the snaps of his shirt. He stood still, a statue of patient devotion, allowing you to undress him. The leather jacket came off first, then his shirt, revealing the hard planes of his chest and the taut muscles of his abdomen. You traced the lines of his body with your fingertips, feeling the heat radiate from him, the faint tremor that ran through him as your skin met his. San stepped back slightly and took your hand, leading you deeper into the apartment, as if he lived there, to the bedroom. The soft rug underfoot felt luxurious against your bare soles. In the dim light, your bed looked like an island, an irresistible haven. He paused at the edge, his gaze searching yours.

“May I?” he murmured, a silent question asking permission to continue, even though every fiber of your being screamed yes. You nodded, a shaky breath escaping your lips. He reached for the strap of your dress at your shoulder, slowly sliding it down, allowing the silk to pool at your feet. You stepped out of it, the black fabric a discarded puddle. He then lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bed. You gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist as he lowered you onto the soft mattress. He hovered over you, supporting himself on his elbows, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You are so beautiful,” he breathed, his voice thick with adoration. “Perfect. So fucking perfect for me and mine only.” His hand found the waistband of your thong, his fingers slipping underneath. He slowly, agonizingly slowly, peeled it down your legs until you were completely bare beneath him. He didn’t rush, savoring each moment, each inch of exposed skin. You reached for the waistband of his pants, pulling at them impatiently. He chuckled, a deep, satisfied sound, and helped you, shucking off his pants and boxers until he too was naked, his hard form pressing against your bare thighs. He settled between your legs, his weight a delicious pressure. He leaned down, burying his face in your neck, inhaling your scent, leaving a trail of hot kisses along your collarbone.

“You have no idea how long I have dreamt of this,” he whispered against your skin, his voice raw with a desperate longing that mirrored your own. "Of being here again, with you, like this.” You threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling his head back slightly so you could meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, almost black, brimming with an overwhelming emotion that captivated you.

“Show me, San,” you whispered, your voice a soft invitation, your hips unconsciously tilting up, pleading. “Show me everything.” He met your gaze, a powerful mixture of adoration and barely contained hunger in his eyes. He leaned in, pressing his lips to yours, a deep, consuming kiss that stole your breath away. This was not just desire; it was a profound connection, a reunion of souls that had been torn apart, now finding their way back to their inevitable convergence. His body moved, pressing deeper, finding that familiar, perfect fit. You gasped against his mouth, a sound of pure, unmixed relief and escalating pleasure. He groaned against your lips, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through your entire being as he began to move. Slowly at first, a deliberate testing of the waters, a teasing rhythm that built the excitement. You responded immediately, your hips instinctively meeting him, pushing back, craving the full immersion. His hands found your waist, gripping you firmly, lifting you slightly to deepen the angle, to ensure every friction was maximized.

“My love,” he breathed, the words muffled against your mouth as he broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your jaw to your ear. “You feel so good. So good.” His breath hitched as you arched into him, a soft moan escaping your lips. The pace quickened, a primal dance that spoke volumes without a single word. The bed beneath you became a tempest, the soft mattress sinking with each powerful thrust. You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him in closer, urging him deeper. Your nails lightly scraped against his back as you clung to him, lost in the escalating storm of sensation. His muscles flexed under your touch, a testament to the raw strength he held in check for you. He was a force, yet utterly devoted to your pleasure, watching your face for every sign, every gasp, every subtle shift in your expression. He leaned down, catching your lips in a passionate kiss again, swallowing your moans, mingling your breaths until there was no telling where one ended and the other began.

The air in the room grew heavy, thick with the scent of aroused bodies and desperate need. The sounds of your apartment, usually so familiar, were now just the frantic pounding of your hearts and the soft gasps and moans that filled the space. The thought of anything beyond this moment, beyond the exquisite friction and the intoxicating scent of San, completely vanished. This was your true future, the one you truly desired, unraveling beneath you in a tangle of limbs and breathless whispers. He pulled back, just enough to look into your eyes, his own dark and dilated, filled with a burning intensity.

“Look at me,” he rasped, his voice strained, raw with his own approaching climax. “Look at me, doll.” You met his gaze, completely consumed, your body trembling on the brink. You could feel the building pressure deep inside, the undeniable ascent towards another peak. His eyes, fixed on yours, were the only anchor in the swirling of sensation.

“San,” you whimpered, his name a desperate plea, a worshipful prayer on your lips. With a final, powerful thrust, he drove into you, a deep, all-consuming connection that sent you spiraling over the edge once more. A guttural cry escaped you as your body shook uncontrollably around him, clutching him tighter. He groaned, a primal sound of release, as he followed you, collapsing onto you, his body heavy and satiated. The aftermath was a symphony of heavy breaths and pounding hearts, bodies slick with sweat, entangled in the peaceful silence that followed the storm. He buried his face in your neck, pressing kisses to your damp skin, utterly spent, yet still holding you impossibly close, as if afraid to let you go. He lay heavy on you, his chest rising and falling against yours, the scent of him—a mix of sweat, sex, and his familiar cologne—filling your senses. Your fingers, still tangled in his hair, gently stroked the nape of his neck. The frantic rhythm of your heart gradually slowed, syncing with the steady beat of his. The silence in the room was profound, punctuated only by your soft breaths and the lingering hum of satisfaction that resonated deep within your bones.

After a long moment, he shifted, lifting his head from your neck and propping himself up on his elbows, looking down at you. His eyes, still clouded with the afterglow, held a tenderness that made your own heartache in the best way possible. He reached out, his thumb tracing the curve of your bottom lip.

“Are you... Alright, my love?” he whispered, his voice a little rough, a hint of concern in his gaze. He always checked. He always made sure you were okay, even when he was completely lost in the moment. It was a subtle, natural care that had always been one of the things you loved most about him and something you had desperately missed.

You smiled, a soft, content smile. “More than alright, San,” you murmured, reaching up to cup his cheek, feeling the slight stubble beneath your palm. “Perfect rather.”

A relieved sigh escaped him, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Good,” he breathed, the word filled with sincere relief. He rolled off you, but only to lie beside you, pulling you immediately into his side. Your head rested on his shoulder, your leg thrown over his, your bodies still connected by the lingering warmth and the unspoken intimacy.

The city lights still filtered through the blinds, casting faint, shifting shadows on the ceiling. You were both quiet, simply existing in the shared space, in the aftermath of something raw and powerful. You felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over you—the lingering resentment for the life your grandparents had dictated, the sharp pang of regret for the time lost, and an overwhelming surge of pure, unadulterated contentment in his arms.

“I missed this,” you whispered, the words barely audible, a confession that tasted like freedom on your tongue. “I missed you.”

He tightened his arm around you, pulling you even closer. His lips brushed your hair. “I missed you too, more than words can say,” he murmured back, his voice thick with emotion. “Every single day; It was hell without you—even though I can sense that you hated me to death. I know you.”

You sighed, burying your face deeper into his shoulder. The fragile peace was here, in this bed, with him. The outside world, the demands of your family, the future they had planned—it all felt distant, a problem for another day. For now, there was just this. Just San. And the undeniable, aching truth that you were exactly where you belonged. You felt his breathing even out, a soft snore starting to rumble in his chest. He was falling asleep, utterly relaxed in your embrace. You closed your eyes, letting the exhaustion and the profound contentment wash over you. For the first time in a long time, the insistent echoes of his memory were not tormenting you but lulling you into a peaceful sleep.

[parnashiamparapio]

Forever their's.

Pairing: vminkook x reader.

Contains: psychotic behaviour, a lot of smut, possessiveness, obsession, yandere behaviour, gore, killing, oral sex, rough sex, threesome, three men sharing same woman. Rich vminkook, countryside girl. Forced proximity, clit play, riding, possessive behaviour. Mention of death.

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Summary: A young woman from the countryside, comes to the city of seoul for study - at her aunts and beckmes an obsession not only one but three deadly, insanely handsome and rich bachelors. They will do anything to make her theirs. Either With their wealth, charm, and determination. They will stop at nothing to bring her into their lives, even if it means shattering her innocence and leaving her forever changed. Forever their's even if it includes - killing people.

Chapter eight.

I stretched my arm softly, a soft groan left my mouth. My back is hurting badly. I have been typing on my laptop for three hours, writing down the project. The deadline is near and I wanted to give the best. I shared a mutual conversation with jungwoo — only slight conversation.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

I know the fact that I do anything stupid then others will face the consequences. And I don't want that.

My grandma is still being treated and her surgery is going on. They have been keeping checks on her and I'm glad. At least they are good at this. Knowing the reason I can't rely on anyone except them. They can handle the expense and everything. I want to work hard so i can pay them off. I feel burdened.

Not to mention, their small touches never stop. Sometimes they throw me on their bed and devour me until i forget how to breathe.

They would touch me and clean me gently, they would cuddle me after the sex. Taehyung mostly stays in the mansion with me. He would touch me, shower with me and clean me up. He asks me about my day and has a small talk with me.

    He always listens attentively to what i say. Even my words are hatred.

Whenever Jungkook sees me, his lips are on mine. Jungkook doesn't care about his own pleasure, he doesn't care if he comes first— he cares if i did— several times. He also never leaves me dirty, he washes me up, dresses me up, and brushes my hair.

Jungkook makes amazing hair styles.

Taehyung would call the maids to bring food when I'm too sore to move.

Recently i got to know from Jimin that aunt and min-ah has been shifting to New York. And they have been dealing with their business there. I don't know if it's true or not.

But I don't think they care about their mother at all — let alone the sister.

No matter how much i run, from myself and my feelings for them. In the end it's always me and my thoughts. I can't help but feel a little vulnerable when I'm with them.

Not all girls like heroes. I was fated to be bonded with the Villains. Who'll put me ahead of everyone — including themselves.

They are extremely compulsive, their emotions, temper and love.

I sighed softly, and rubbed my temple feeling a headache forming. I grabbed menstruation cycle pills — i feel like I'm close to my periods. Which is good.

I have been taking pills.

Birth control.

These bastards whenever they are intimate, they fill inside me. If i get pregnant then it's worse, worse to leave them.

I opened YouTube and saw a few slides of cupcakes. I love cupcakes — back then i used to make it with my grandma. The sudden cravenness was overwhelming.

I opened my desk and take out a small diary, i wrote so many small recipes to make instead of eating snacks. I went downstairs. I was currently in black soft sweater and a pair of grey sweatpants. 

I greeted the maid softly not wanting to scare her as her back was facing me. "Can you tell me where the baking things are?" I told her specific things about the cupcakes. She smiled softly and nodded. She placed all the things on the kitchen marble.

It was almost 7:45 pm, but anyways.

I gently talked with her while baking and mixing the batter. Asking how long she has been working and other things she loves to do etc etc.

"Can you pass me the butter miss?" I spoke softly without turning around. When i heard nothing i frowned and looked behind.

"Want this?" Jimin held the butter in his hand. I nodded and looked at him. Jimin walked towards me. Jimin was in black simple black t-shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans. And black cap on his head. His silver chain showing.

"Why are you dressed in all black?" I couldn't help but ask, Jimin handed me butter and put it inside the bowl. Mixing the cupcake batter. Jimin said nothing and leaned on the kitchen marble and looked at me.

"You know what time is it right?" He asked looking at me.

"Yeah? Around 8?" I said like a matter-of-fact tone.

"It's time for dinner and You're eating these cupcakes. "

"I was craving it."

"Crave me, instead."

I glared into his dark eyes and he smirked.

"I'd rather crave cupcakes than you." I grumbled under my breath and mixed the batter. I cracked an egg and mixed it. Jimin came behind me sneaking his arm around my waist pulling me closer to his chest — snuggling against my neck. Inhaling deeply.

"You smell so good, always do." Jimin mumbled against the skin of my neck. "Jimin, let go. I'm working." I tried to wiggle out from his grasp.

I can feel him grinning against my neck. "Am i distracting you, angel eyes?" He pressed my bottom against his bulge. I take a sharp inhale. "Feel that?" He whispered against my ear, kissing the back of my ear.

These guys are always horny.

I slightly pushed him away, and grabbed the baking container. Applying oil and butter paper, i pour all the batter inside the container and put it inside the convection microwave. And applied the limit — i hope it turns out yummy.

Jimin opened the chocolate, he was about to eat it. I gasped softly and snatched it away — "hey, you can't eat this. This is for the cupcake topping." I frown softly. "

"Well I'm craving something sweet." He murmured leaning down staring at my lips. "You can help me tho."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"No."

"Yes."

Dammit.

He smirked. "Now now you can't back off can you, in the end you always end up what we want anyways." He smiled, and licked his lips. His eyes kinda vanished the way he smiled.

"Too bad I don't want you, nor I'll help you to feed you for your 'sweet treat' nor I'll share my cupcakes with you." I crossed my arms and looked at him.

Jimin yanked my closer with the hem of the collar shirt, i gasped softly.  I could smell his musk scent with a hint of something sweet. I looked up at his eyes.

"Aren't you talking back way too much?" He murmurs against my lips. He caressed my lower lips softly. "How's your project going?"

"It's going good." I said barely over the whisper, too bothered by the closeness. "Just good?" He demanded an answer, and wanted to know more. I nodded and gulped.

I nibbled my lower lips softly looking at him.

"Don't do that unless you want to be fucked in this goddamn kitchen." His jaw clenched and his voice came out strained and i know he wasn't joking around.

"You guys know nothing except that."

"When we have a woman like you in our life. We can't think of straight, baby."

"I wish I'd never met you, and them." I whispered, Jimin tucked loose strand behind my ear and caressed contour of my cheeks softly. Caressing them gently like I'm some delicate doll.

Jimin's lips brushed against my forehead "I'll meet you again and again if i have to. To see you, to look at you, to touch you, to drown in your hazel brown eyes. "

My heart thudded at uncontrollable speed.

I'm afraid he'll hear it, it was so loud. I could hear it in my ears.

"Can't stop thinking about you." His lips brushed against my cheeks. "Can't stop wanting you." He kissed my jaw. "Can't stop watching you." He kissed my eyelids. "You don't know what you're doing to me do you?"

"If you like me so much, then why do you and the other two act like this?" I asked softly and looked at him.

"Act like what?"

"You know what jimin."

Jimin looked away, not meeting my eyes.

"You guys act like extreme possessiveness, act differently then being gentle all of sudden. I feel suffocate, watched. Threatening me, and people who are trying to get close to me. Why?" I can't help but ask about these things, voice my thoughts that I always wanted to escape.

"You think we choose this? We chose to be like this? It happened angel eyes. Since the day you came — everything changed. And i know one thing. We are never letting you go. Ever."

Tears gathered in my eyes.

Gosh, i hate being so vulnerable all the time.

Before i controlled them, it rolled down my cheeks. Screw these hormones. Being vulnerable In front of this possessive jerks will only give them more power over me.

Jimin dropped his forehead against my mine, our breaths mingle together. "Always so pretty when you cry."

I gulped at his words.

"You're sick." I spat.

"Tell me something I don't know."

There was a small voice in the microwave, the cupcakes were baked. I wiped my wet cheeks and opened the microwave. I was about to take the container.

"Stop." Jimin suddenly said.

I looked at him with a frown.

"Where is the your fucking mind. Wear gloves, you were about to burn your hand." Jimin wore the baking gloves and took out the hot container.

The cupcakes were perfectly baked and smelling good. I sigh in relief and take out slowly each of them.

And Jimin watched me getting excited over the cupcake.

——

I was currently in university, me and Jungwoo were sitting together in our university class room hall. I was kinda nervous about our project - i just really hope that we pass and get points in our upcoming semester. It's almost like free marks and good for our GPA.

The professor was actually in a very sour mood today, he wasn't passing the students that easily. And i was really scared that he wouldn't pass our project either. Cause this is actually free marks.

And he even said if he liked one project a little too much, he'll add some extra marks with an announcement. I looked at jungwoo and he looked at me. He gave me a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, partner. We got it." He said softly leaning onto him, showing his fist bump.

I joined my fist with him with a soft bump.

"This was the easiest assignment i gave you - everyone. And this is actually a very poor result. Only if you guys actually focused on it instead of doing the parties."

The professor tsked with annoyance. Everyone looked either disappointed or they didn't care. This university of Seoul is basically the university of 'brats' no one really takes study seriously here.

Except for scholarship students.

Me.

"Anyways, this student actually preformed pretty well. The names are."

I felt my heart thudding.

My heart on my throat.

"Soohee and kang minjung, Min-Hyuk and won-woo, Cyra and Jungwoo and jung minho and jihyun."

A gasped escape my lips.

Oh my god we passed?

I looked at jungwoo, who was pumping his fist in air.

"See i told you" he nudged his shoulder with me gently. "Yeah, you told me" i nodded. "Great work, partner." I smiled at him.

He flipped his imaginary hair.

A giggle left my mouth.

"Sohee and kang minjung and Cyra Maevie and Jungwoo lee. You guys did more than better work. And according to principal as we said about the extra marks for your GPA. He'll decide it." The professor spoke.

All of us nodded.

"For the winners, sir?" Jungwoo asked, and the professor nodded.

"I don't get the concept of this competition." I mumbled.

"It's just a free marks, some people don't give a shit about it either. I don't too, but being you as my partner. Now i do."

I smiled at his words.

"And why is that?"

"You're a nerd." He teases.

I frown. "Whatever you say, I'm better than you."

He gasped and mocked hurt placing hand on his chest. "You wounded me, partner."

"By the way - I'm kinda nervous." I spoke softly looking at him.

Jungwoo frowns and crossed his arms.

"Why? We passed anyways."

"Yeah, i know but standing in front of the hall and they announce the result. It's very - urm i don't know."

Jungwoo held my hand under the desk, interwining hands with me. I gulped softly and looked at him.

"You don't have to worry okay. We are together in this, and trust me. We'll win."

Why this whole thing over a small project. I don't get it.

I heard from other students that, they have to announce some other things too. That's why they are doing this all together.

Makes sense.

Two our teams were standing on the stage, with everyone eyes on us.

I looked around and my eyes locked on Taehyung's.

He was sitting.

On the back, his both arm on his each thighs staring into my soul.

I gulped softly.

Jimin and Jungkook wasn't here. I don't know why tho.

I quickly averted my gaze.

"Good morning students", the principal spoke. The principal continued to speak, but my mind drift backwards to that incident of min-woo case scene.

I'm still very terrified, but I'm more terrified the fact. No one said anything about it. Not even principal. They brushed it off like it's just a normal thing.

No scandal, nothing.

I remember hearing a small news about it, that was an incident and other's were strictly forbidded to not talk about it any further.

An accident.

Nothing more.

That's what they all said.

"We won." Jungwoo shake me gently, i snapped out of my thoughts and looked at him.

"What?"

Jungwoo smiled widely and looked at me. "We won silly - we even won a laptop!"

I blinks slowly and looked around.

We won, we won.

I squealed left my mouth and my actions were impulsive.

Oh no.

I jumped in jungwoo's arms, wrapping my arms around his neck. Smiling, i felt him tensed in my arms by my sudden display of affection. I felt his breath caught in his throat.

Even my own heart skipped a beat.

Before i realized what i was doing, jungwoo's arm instantly wrapped around my waist and he lifted me from the ground with ease.

He chuckled softly against my ear. "We won."

I quickly snap out of my excitement Zone, i slowly get down and he gently puts me down. I brushed my bangs out of my forehead softly.

My cheeks flame. I can feel the exact heat.

Jungwoo showed me his palm, for a high five. Easing the awkwardness from me. I smiled gently and high five him.

My eyes locked on Taehyung's once again.

His eyes were darker than usual.

His jaw clenched. And eyes on mine.

I felt his lips moving forming some words, he mouthed.

"You're so fucking dead."

And i gulped.

My movements were quick and frightening. The ceremony continued to begin. I could still feel his eyes on me, but i just ignored it. I completely tried not to acknowledge his gaze that was leaving me bare and exposed.

I standing on stage with Jungwoo, couldn't help but feel the weight of Taehyung's dark gaze on me. As i remember my arms wrapped around Jungwoo in a spontaneous hug, i couldn't shake the feeling that her actions were leading them all down a dangerous path.

In the audience, Taehyung still watched my every move, his eyes filled with a darkness that both frightened her.

I know, deep down, that he was capable of great harm, his presence a constant reminder of the danger that lurked just beneath the surface.

My heart raced as i imagined the consequences of my own actions, the safety of Jungwoo hanging in the balance as i stood there, bare and vulnerable to Taehyung's consuming gaze.

As the performance continued, i felt naked, exposed, and entirely at the mercy of Taehyung's dangerous desire. I knew, in that moment, that i was in over my head, the consequences of my own actions too great to bear.

The students came down, and other students ceremonies began about their own other projects according to their majors. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I took it out and read the message.

<I won't say it nicely again, be a good girl and meet me in the car. We are going back home.>

My chest heaved, i looked across the room looking at taehyung. Who was staring at me with deadly eyes - there was no hint of any emotion inside his eyes. They were dark and drooling.

"Hey, you okay?" Jungwoo's worried voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked at him. He looked down at me, i nodded and tried to smile.

"Jungwoo, i-i have to leave. Something came up." I quickly took a step back, not caring to explain anything. Before he asks any other questions. I turned around leaving the venue of the university hall.

I was walking down the hallway.

I was yanked off.

I bumped on his chest and looked up at him. Taehyung's grip on my waist and wrist tightened. I gulped and looked at him.

"Taehyung lis-" i was cut off by his walking, and yanking me off with him. "Taehyung, you're hurting me." I winced softly, trying to remove his grip from my hand.

"That's the point, flower. You love to get hurt right? - I'll show you."

We reached taehyung's car and he shoved me inside the passenger seat and buckled my belts.

Taehyung walked towards his driving seat, staring at the engine. He roared. He was practically driving so fast. Everything was so blurry around us, and so was my vision.

"Slow down" i whispered and looked down, tears rolled down my cheeks. I held the handle. Taehyung didn't slow down. Not even a bit.

I could feel his veins popping on his neck and forehead.

His veiny hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. "Please, slow down." I choked out.

He's mad.

We might die – the way he was driving.

there was always a weird kind of assertiveness in taehyung's voice whenever he voiced his love and craze for you. Almost as if this was normal, always as if he believes in his bones that you were meant to be his.

Like there was nothing wrong with the way they keep you. The way they treat you, locking up, every single thing. It was normal for them.

Taehyung wanted to set the world on fire, he will set that boy on fire, but what was he to do to you? Nothing? I mean why would he hurt his pretty little naive flower.

he was gonna teach you a lesson. And you got the hint of that with him speeding through the streets of Seoul like he owned them. He does own them.

"You're crazy."

"You make me crazy."

His voice was icy, not even a hint of mock, mischievous or anything. It felt like it was coming from a dead person.

As soon as we reached, taehyung dragged me inside. Taehyung shoved me on his bed, i clutched on the white sheets in the palm of my hand.

I looked at him, taehyung locked the door. He looked at me and smiled. That smiled terrified me - "why don't you smile and hug me too, flower?"

I crawled backwards, he grabbed my ankle and yanked me closer to him. "You never listen do you? We tried everything. We tried to be polite, gave you space, freedom - treating your fucking grandma."

Ny lips trembled.

Only if i could fight, slap or do anything but i can't.

My grandma was under their protection.

"What if i told them to stop the surgery and let your grandma die?" He whispered in my ear, kissing my temple.

No, no.

"P-please, don't." A choked sob left my mouth, "she's the only one i have." I whispered, taehyung licked my tears that were rolling down my cheek.

He hummed, pretending to think.

"You don't want that, right?" He raised his eyebrows. Looking down at me. I nodded almost pathetically.

"Spread your legs for me."

It's always give and take.

Always.

"Beg me to fuck you, beg me to make love to you. Show me your fucking affection. I crave it like a fucking starving man." He growled against my lips, and bit my lower lips.

I gasped softly.

Taking the chance, his tongue slipped inside my mouth. His lips moved fiercely against my lips. He devoured me furiously and angrily. Pouring out his pent-up frustration, jealousy.

His kiss consuming. Taking out every breath inside my mouth, leaving me breathless.

Deadly.

My hand quickly flies towards his chest, trying to push him. But he grabbed them pinning them over her head.

Taehyung spread my legs, his cloth hard bulge pressed on my clothed core. I nibbled my lower lips softly and breathed softly arching my back.

Taehyung kissed my throat.

"You make me go crazy, flower. I can't think of anything else. I can't do anything. I can't eat, i can't think. You. Fucking. Consumed. Me."

I closed my eyes, I don't want to think of anything else right now.

Taehyung's hand went to my pants, he leaned down slowly. He pulled my zipper down with his teeth and whispered kissing my clothed core - "this is mine, you're mine."

He yanked the pants off discarding them on the floor.

"I want your time, i want your affection, i want you to smile at me like you were smiling at the fucking jungwoo." He rasped, his hand went to the hem of my shirt.

"I want to feel your body on fire, i want to feel your heart racing. I want you to kiss my cheek, kiss my lips, kiss my body." Taehyung desperately kissed me again.

Taehyung's voice shaky "I'm so fucking in love with you, cyra. So desperately - so so desperately." He whispered.

"This isn't love." I pants softly against his lips. Looking at his dark eyes with my teary one.

"Call whatever you want. i desire you" taehyung removed my panties and slid his two fingers at once. I whimpered. "I need you." He said desperately.

"I burn for you." He kissed my cheeks, and temple. Burying his face in my neck. His actions were furious with gentleness as well.

"H-hurts."

"That's the point." He whispered in my ear, licking the earlobe.

"You know what? Jungkook was right — we should have killed him long ago. We were being patient." He said calmly like he isn't talking about murdering someone.

This is the last thing i want.

Someone being killed because of me.

I looked into his eyes – "don't do this, please."

He smiled tilting his head left almost dangerously staring into my eyes. "You're sexy when you beg." He placed a gentle chaste kiss on my lips.

Almost like a caress.

He worshiped my body, on his knees. His curled his fingers inside my pussy along sucking on my clit. My mouth fall open softly, my chest heaved as i stared at the ceiling.

Taehyung's hand continuously moved in and out curling inside — making me go towards the edge. A breathy moan left my mouth, no matter how much i control it. He sucked harder on my clit making my hips buckle again on his face.

"T-taehyung i-i-" I couldn't even complete my own sentence, my abdomen churned. I was close to an unknown pleasure threatening to come out.

"Come for me, flower." Taehyung whispered against my pussy. And i let go. My chest heaved, desperate pants left my mouth.

Taehyung sucked me off.

Every. Single. Drop.

He crawled upwards. "Taste yourself." He smashed his lips, kissing me fiercely. I could taste my own arousal on his lips. On his tongue. My sensitive pussy suddenly ached. More.

I want more of him.

He rubbed the tip of his angry cock on my clit up and down. His own pre-cum meeting my sensitive pussy making me arch more.

He pushed inside.

A loud mewl left my lips. "N-no pull out p-please." I pleaded, more like above the whisper. But my pleas went deaf to his ears.

"We're not even half inside, flower." He chuckled darkly against my ear.

Suddenly.

He thrust all one go.

My scream got muffled by his kiss, he instantly grabbed my legs putting over his shoulder. And groaned loudly. Taehyung thrusted in and out in animalistic speed.

His hand went to my nipples, flicking it. His mouth captured the right one.

I gasp.

He squeezed the left one, giving the same attention as right.

He placed another kiss on my throat, inhaling deeply.

His cock didn't stop going in and out, he slowed down his movement then going back in with deep and powerful thrust. Making me arch back.

A sob left my mouth.

Taehyung, filled with rage and a twisted sense of possessiveness, drove himself into me, his anger coursing through his every move. He lied against my neck, his hot breath a stark contrast to the cruelty in his words as he spoke of a love that was anything but pure.

His actions were not a result of love but a mere manifestation of his dangerous obsession. His large cock, thrusting in and out of my pussy with savage intensity, punishing me for even daring to look at other men, let alone hug one so intimately.

He drove himself deeper, using the memory of her affectionate embrace with Jungwoo as fuel for his unwavering anger.

  Despite the pain and shame, i couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of regret for her previous actions, knowing that they had led her to this dark and dangerous place.

Taehyung grabbed my hair yanking me up on his lap, i yelped softly against his lips as he settled me on his lap. His cock was still buried inside me. "Ride me." He rasped, he grabbed my hips and made me move back and forth.

He did all the positions. Every single one.

Our breaths mingle together.

Taehyung joined forehead against mine, staring at me.

Locking my every expression, every tear in his twisted, unhinged mind.

He left a mark on neck, dark and prominent. Clearly showing everyone that she's his — and theirs.

"I." Thrusted upwards. "fucking." Thrusted upwards. "Love." Thrusted upwards. "You."

We both came together.

His seeds filled inside me once again. They will leave me pregnant for sure.

Making me carrying another monster like them.

My eyes slowly drool, exhaustion took over me like a warm blanket. I whispered my last words. "Don't hurt him please." It was a mere whisper, above it.

"We won't — not yet."

And everything turns black.

[holding-on-to-josh]

i need to rant about how much i love snap back. this song is an absolute masterpiece in terms of sound, lyrics, harmonies, and meaning. me and my close friend were talking about how amazing this song was yesterday. love you avery

- it has this distinct summer sound that sounds nostalgic to me and it just feels like i’m driving toward the sunset and it gives me a feeling like everything’s gonna be okay, despite the song itself

THIS PART is so deep. it’s like you’re still running from the past, but more so you’re still THINKING about the past which is keeping you from looking into the future and seeing what’s right in front of you. this i feel is something anybody can relate to because we look back a lot on life and try to use it to improve.

This idea of refusing help and possibly pushing away people you love because of how closed off or isolated you may feel. i know for a fact that when i’m going through something or having a rough day i lash out at anyone who tries to talk to me or help, and this lyric is absolutely amazing at describing this feeling of biting the hand that helps you, then giving it stitches.

first of all, the backslide reference! these two songs feel like siblings to me. but about the lyrics, the song is talking about a backslide, a relapse, a return to something. “all of that progress lost today” “it’s a backslide”. feeling like all that work, all that progress is worth nothing because you ended up back at square one. it’s as if you were climbing a slide only to slip back down.

This is not so much about lyrics but more so about structure and sound, BECAUSE THE HARMONIES?? god when i heard those harmonies for the first time on this song i ugly sobbed for a good fifteen minutes because holy crap it sounds amazing. it feels like several different people are telling you it’s all gone, and that’s what anxiety and insecurity feels like to me, like a bunch of tiny voices telling you stuff

don’t get me STARTED on this lyric because if you’re introspective like me and you’re always trying to look into how you feel and why you feel like this, this is insanely relatable. sometimes i’m able to come up with a bunch of reasons that make sense on why i’m feeling a certain way, which can lead to me being able to feel better or deal with it better, but there are also times where i run out of excuses as to why i am this way, why i feel this way. but i just think as humans we won’t always have the answers, and that’s okay

I really like this part because he’s USING THE FALSETTOS TO COMMUNICATE TWO VOICES. he’s talking to the backslide/relapse as if it’s a person (kind of like how nico/blurryface is a person that resembles tyler’s insecurities) and it’s genius. he’s saying “welcome back to the show”, welcome BACK being that this is not a one time occurrence, but something that keeps returning, even if it’s not wanted.

the way i see it, the normal voice is his more rationale than just his insecurities, and this is shown through him saying he better move to a fresher approach, showing that he has a desire to change things up to see if it makes him feel different. and the new adaptation, in my opinion, i see it as him realizing that it may not ever go away fully, but he can adapt because humans adapt.

Let’s not forget this gem. absolute genius at lyrics tyler joseph is, and this line is evil because it cuts so deep. The fact that he’s referring to himself as having elasticity, i see it as him saying he’s changed a lot, or he’s willing to change if it means finding his way back. the feeling of knowing you’ve gotten off track and wanting to get back to where you were before, but not knowing how, so all you can do is pray that you’ll somehow get back there, to how things were before. this further contributes to the backslide theme of the song.

That’s all i have to say for now, just wanted to get that out there because i cannot listen to this song without sobbing my lungs out. 😵‍💫

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character 2024 — Unscripted Redemption Bracket — Round 6.5−1

Propaganda

Sammy Sinclair, the Scat King of Ganymede (Tidal Wave Games Podcast: SEE YOU, SPACE COWBOY...) (Boba Count: 3 and 1 shared):

Listen: we have fun here but there are two things Sammy Sinclair does and does well, and that's play the saxophone and fuck like a freight train. There's a reason he's left a trail of ex-lovers across the entire solar system, and while it's true the majority of them want him dead, that shouldn't be taken as any indication of his abilities. It's just because he's an asshole

Spanks Sinatra (Tidal Wave Games Podcast: SEE YOU, SPACE COWBOY...) (Boba Count: 1 and 1 shared):

Spanks self-describes as a "himbo", but he's really not; he's highly intelligent and analytical, with a lot of shit in his past, and at the time you meet him the most effective way he's found to keep his own brain from overwhelming him is by beating it into submission with a life of hard drinking and violence

Sammy and Spanks as a team:

They thought they were taking us down but all they did was make us that much more powerful. Vote Sammy and Spanks, the real friends at the table

Sammy and Spanks' boba order:

Pineapple and Coconut spiked with homebrought rum.

Trish Una (Riley Hopkins and Their Amazing Friends: Interstitial Infinity) (Boba Count: 1):

It's TRISH UNA TIME EVERYONE

trish gang. with your help and also the power of incredible violence we can do this

Can I get some votes on Trish Una here? Spare some votes for a violent woman?

everyone vote trish NOW

Mod Note: This is only the Trish Una from the podcast Riley Hopkins And Their Amazing Friends. Do not vote on the basis of any other Trish Una.

Art of Trish Una courtesy of @charaznablescanontoyota.

Art of Sammy Sinclair and Spanks Sinatra by @violetfoxsketches.

Additional propaganda below the cut:

Sammy Sinclair, the Scat King of Ganymede (Tidal Wave Games Podcast: SEE YOU, SPACE COWBOY...):

Don't be crass, it's scat as in jazz. Formerly known as the Sax King of Ganymede, before the loss of his prized saxophone in a debt to the Space Mafia necessitated a rebrand

Pansexual, pangalactic, personal pan pizza

4'10"; but it's not the size that matters, it's what you do with it

As a saxophonist, is good with mouth and fingers and can hold breath for a VERY long time

Say hi to your mom/dad/aunt for me

In-character audio propaganda from when he was against Lup.

you know what's sexier than being an umbrella? Making da fuckin corpos so mad they cancel you.

I heard that swearing is sexy, or something

sexiestpodcastcharacter lore

PLEASE VOTE FOR SAMMY SINCLAIR, SCAT KING OF GANYMEDE!!!!!

In-character audio propaganda with Spanks Sinatra from a previous round.

Husky: Vote for Sammy or else... well let's just say that you will not like what happens.

In character audio propaganda against Muldan Foxskull.

In-character cover of The Slur Song.

Alright here's my final appeal to vote for Sammy: a spoiler-free clip from after a very pivotal moment where shit has gotten real and he has to make a decision with far-reaching repercussions. It's not all goofs and gags in SEE YOU, SPACE COWBOY…, Sammy can lock in too!

Spanks Sinatra (Tidal Wave Games Podcast: SEE YOU, SPACE COWBOY...)

He/him lesbian drag king Frank Sinatra impersonator

Is too old for this shit (is 30)

Loves to use his fists

Is so tired

This is propaganda for all the female characters. Voters please remember how pretty all women are and factor that into every single vote you make. Thank you.

When not performing, is drinking. When not drinking, is beating people up for money. When not beating people up for money, is performing. Life is purposefully structured to avoid encountering a thought for as long as possible

Don't forget that Spanks' name is Spanks Sinatra ok, this is very important. Appreciate my jokes.

Don't you want to reach over and give him a better reason to turn his brain off for a while?

Important note: Spanks is a woman, he just uses he/him pronouns for various reasons, most of which are that he's a butch drag king.

Also vote for him.

Vote for Spanks Sinatra!!!

Who are you going to vote for: the he/him lesbian who can bench press you, or the tangled bundle of Christmas lights in your attic?

Come ON, you're going to let the he/him lesbian drag king Frank Sinatra who is also a bounty hunter get beat by a pile of cold, unflavored spaghetti??? Seriously?

Audio propaganda with Sammy Sinclair.

Art propaganda of Spanks Sinatra being crushed by Husky, as mentioned in the above audio propaganda.

Vote for my sad messed up drag king

Spanks is a he/him lesbian. come on. look at him

Vote for Spanks, he doesn't need a psychic ghost to turn you to rubber

Anyway if it's rope/cable play you're into, Spanks has a move for that

Sammy and Spanks as a team:

The Dosage Tango Crew can tag team the finals, but only with your help!! This is how it was always meant to be. We can do this. Let's carry that weight together and show the finals what damage a couple of bad boys with nothing to lose can do. 👉💥

Sammy and Spanks might have a 20 year age gap between them, but they're each the closest thing either has to a friend. Despite being two extremely self-involved loners with very different personalities, they manage to understand each other better than anyone else in large part because they both agree on a simple guiding principle: where you came from doesn't dictate who you are, and there are some rocks you don't need to dig under. They might enable some of each other's worst vices but they also manage to keep one another from going too far off the deep end, and after having worked together for a very long time they know they can count on one another to watch each other's backs, which can be a rare thing in their line of work. There's no job the two of them can't manage together, and that includes the sexiest podcast character tournament if you help them tie today

Trish Una (Riley Hopkins and Their Amazing Friends: Interstitial Infinity):

Trish Una, from the universe of Jojo's Bizarre Adventure, ensures that the hits start coming and they don't stop coming. Trush Ina, from JJBA, fights Rachel from Animorphs and wins. T. Una Sandwich, from Jimmy John's Brash Accumulation, is best friends with Shadow the Hedgehog and she's also my dad. T-Minus Uno, from Chipotle,

She is emotionally compromised and definitely not turning into her father

Trish "is it stands" Una is the type of motherfuckers you need to see to be believed. Trish & Carrie toxic Yuri. Trish the fucking Spirit of justice. Trish is the real one.

Please vote for my close friend Trish Una or else you leave without saying goodbye to her

TRISH "THE MONEY" UNA

This is propaganda for all the female characters. Voters please remember how pretty all women are and factor that into every single vote you make. Thank you.

#is that fucking shadow the hedgehog

yes! he's one of the main party members! listen to intersitital infinity on riley hopkins and their amazing friends!

Trish Una is a girl who is certain she knows what's going on. She shishkebobed Simon from Infinity Train. She is best friends with Shadow the Hedgehog, Mob from Mob Psycho, Alphonse Elric, and technically Shoka Sakurane.

Please vote for Trish she is so so sexy

Trish Una could take over a position of leadership in a preestablished location but could Virtue have a emotionally fraught conversation with carrie white?

vote for trish una, girl who went to another universe, found out she was fictional / a tertiary character at best in her own story, and decided the proper coping method was to punch a guy to shreds

vote for trish una, girl who looked at carrie from the movie carrie and said "i could fix her"

vote for trish una, girl who fought a bear and won

vote for trish una, girl who put a part of herself into a machine in an attempt to control it and inextricably(?) linked the machine to her soul

vote for trish una, girl who might be the devil

Ok genuinely I'm gonna need some razzle dazzle for the Deal Great Harm queen, the beautiful mind, the arm through a little blonde boy with bad vibes, thumbs down, bad motherfucker l, head full of rocks heart full of emotions Trish Una

She's been left by everyone she cares about- are you going to leave her too?

trish una is capable of such violence it's beautiful. listen to those clips again i beseech you

[kell-5]

Wing's secret

Warning: romantic content, mild jealousy, hint of a more intimate moment, gender-neutral reader, possible spelling and lexical errors

addressing : you, your, yours, they, their

Character: Wing x reader

____________________________________________

The Crystal City glowed, as always, in cool shades of blue, but your heart was hot with tension. You, the Archivist of the Circle of Light, were sorting through old archives when you came across the unexpected - Wing's holorecord, hidden among the training reports.

He started playing and his voice was usually calm, it sounded gentle and thoughtful

"I will never forget you. You were my continuation, my strength.." - the audio holorecording sounded

You didn't immediately understand who he was talking about, as a thought occurred to your processor, what if he was talking about his ex-partner, you thought it would be worth asking him who this "continuation" was, you weren't one of those who gets jealous, since you trust Wing, but now you felt a slight twinge of this jealousy, you were interested in how often he mentioned his ex, your fingers squeezed this recording, but you loosened your fingers in time so as not to break the datapad, you exhaled trying to calm down.

Suddenly the door to the archive opened, you threw the record away with a serious face and continued sorting through other datapads, the one who entered was none other than Wing

"Are you busy?" His voice was calm, but his optics were meticulously studying your servo wires, which were too quickly translating the datapad to "deferred"

You didn't look up, but your energetic movement of the servo wire betrayed your confusion.

"Yes. Archiving. Usual work"

He came closer, you didn't move from your place, so as not to show your embarrassment even more, your optician looked for a moment at the drawer of your desk where the record was, and immediately returned to her task, sorting the datapads

"You are so diligent with me" he tilted his steering wheel, his voice was warm, and curiosity played in the optician "found anything important?"

If you could sweat you would be covered in sweat in an instant, you didn't plan on talking to him about it right now so you forced out while still trying to keep a serious tone

"No"

Silence

Wing reached out the servo cable - not to you, but to the nearest rack and took a random datapad

"Then ....I won't interfere" he diverted the datapad in the servo cable, but his gaze slid to your table "if you need.... help ..."

You had to run, or confess, or ....

"...Maybe it's time for a snack?" You stood up, locking the necklace

Wing looked at you in surprise, then laughed quietly

"Snack?" He put the datapad back in place "okay."

......

Crystal Bridge. Circle of Light Training Hall.

Wing stood in the middle of the hall, his sword gleaming in the cold light of the crystal walls. He was sharpening the blade—not because it was dull, but because the routine helped to organize his thoughts.

He knows that his Conjunx Endura, the archivist, but today they were very tense, it was noticeable in their gestures, the way they tried to hide their emotions under seriousness.

Wing already guessed that they had found something in his past, nothing shameful, but there were things he did not talk about.

...

You thought about how best to ask Wing about what you had seen and heard.

So a little later you went to the training room, where Wing was. Wing had just finished another training session, he turned around as he heard someone enter the training room, Wing smiled at you.

You came closer

"Aren't I distracting you?" You asked

"Not anymore" his calm, light smile was still on his face

"Wing ....I have a question.."

"I'm listening to you, worldspark"

"Did you have someone before me?" You asked a little innocently

.

.

.

You looked at Wing in anticipation, you held the datapad you found behind your back in the servo wires.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, did you have someone before me?" You asked more directly, you showed the datapad and gave it to Wing

Wing watched the recording again, but to the end where it said that he was talking about a sword, and you didn't have time to watch it to the end, your optics widened from understanding how you looked

"Sweetiapark I was talking about a sword" Wing smiled looking at you, his smile still remained light

"What? Really?" You were surprised and didn't know where to go from shame, because you started to be jealous of Wing for his "ex" who turned out to be a sword, if you could your face plates would be very, very red

"You were jealous of me for a sword?"

"... A sword? A sword?!" Your processor froze for a second. If there was a way to get through the ground, you would have used it.

Silence. Even the hum of the fans seemed too loud.

You stared at the floor, where your fingerprint was already starting to burn out in shame.

“It was... an emotional breakdown,” you whispered, quite ready to disappear.

Wing put a hand on your shoulder:

“Flame, if you had watched the recording...” He turned on the hologram - the image of the blade appeared in the air. “...you would have known that I would never trade you for a weapon.”

Pause. Then - his eyes flashed:

“Although it did look good in my hands.”

You pushed him desperately in the chest, but Wing was already laughing, pulling you closer.

Shame turned to something warm as Wing held your servo, his fingers sliding over your wrist.

“You know…” his voice was low, on the verge of irony and tenderness. “If I were to truly compare you to a sword, it would only be because you are the only one who can break me.”

You were getting excited, but he didn’t let you say a word. His lips stopped a moment before touching, deliberately provoking:

“Say, flame… Do you really want me to stop joking?”

“No.”

Your response was instant. You gripped his shoulders, finally closing that damn distance.

The kiss was passionate and hot, so hot that your cooling systems had raised their activity level to mid-level.

Wing's digits traced the contours of your details on your waist, studying them and memorizing what they felt like.

After the kiss, he looked at you and smiled his usual smile, but there was a faint tenderness in the smile.

"Here... too open," you whispered, feeling his energy field hum at a low frequency.

Wing stifled a laugh in your neck module:

"You know the rule if no one sees the violation, it doesn't exist."

Suddenly, footsteps in the hallway.

You fell to the floor in a perfect battle roll, pretending to practice dodging. Wing stood above you with his sword as if demonstrating a technique.

The door opened. Dai Atlas froze in the doorway.

"Are you... training?" his voice was full of suspicion.

Wing calmly lowered his blade: "Yes. Yesterday the flamethrower lost to me at chess. Today he's working off his debts."

When Dai Atlas left, Wing opened a hidden equipment compartment, cramped but large enough for two.

"No one will find us here," his voice merged with the rustle of the ventilation system.

You felt his fingers find the sync connector on your back:

"You're not against unconventional training, are you?"

Your answer disappeared into his mouth module.

————————————————————————

(this was supposed to be a short fic, but whatever, I'm happy with the result)

(English not my native language)