#i'm seeing it more as what it is: a continuation of the show's events and not just 'oh there's this Completely New thing'

[sailingfireshipz]

HAPPY STELLARIDE APPRECIATION WEEK!!! ❤️‍🔥

Day 2: Scene when you knew Stellaride was endgame. Hmmm 💭

I'm going to tackle this from a different angle and highlight when Kelly knew he wanted Stella to be his endgame. Enjoy.

I think for Kelly, it was a combination of events that sort of just compounded on each other one after the other. Before they broke up, Kelly said to Stella that maybe it shouldn't be this much work as it relates to their relationship. He knew he was sabotaging his relationship with her, but he couldn't process the emotional fallout from Benny dying unexpectedly. Therefore, he couldn't stop it.

You project what you can't process.

So i think he thought that pushing her away would be easier...less work, not hard, but then we have this scene post break up, where he admits that he didn't think it would be this hard. An indicator that he thought pushing her away was the solution when, in reality, that proved not to be the case.

Then, we have this moment of clarity. Earlier in the episode, Stella tried to check in on him regarding Grissom, and he sort of brushed it off. Classic stoic Severide, but then with time, he comes to realize by the end of the episode that she was right. He has this realization and goes to talk to her. I strongly believe this conversation would have been more, but then he sees that guy waiting, and he freezes up/closes himself off. Let's her walk away because he thinks well maybe it's for the best, but Stella Kidd, is that ache that just won't go away.

So then we have him helping her with the case of the two foster kids being abused. Let's be clear that Stella had little to no evidence to spark an investigation she just had her gut instincts. Any and everyone else would have doubted her, but not Kelly. He followed her down the rabbit hole and saw the lengths she'd go to bring those kids home. In the end, she was right, and they saved two kids because of it. From that, we get this scene of Kelly finally starting to wake up. There is no one like Stella Kidd, yet somehow he let her get away. So then we move on to acceptance.

This was the FIRST time post break up that Kelly finally verbalize that he couldn't shake her and that he missed her. Let's be CLEAR Kelly Severide has had plenty of relationships that have failed, and he always found a way to move past it. So why not with Stella? Foster leaves him with an ultimatum to ponder on. Step up or step out of the way...he had a decision to make.

Now we transition to Benny's white whale or the one that got away 😉 Do we think it's a coincidence that Stella is the one that helped Kelly close that chapter?

I think this case and what it represented for Benny was a metaphor for what could happen for Severide. In an effort to not be like him, he was unintentionally acting like him. Despite his flaws. Despite the break up. Despite the hurt, Stella did what Stella does best. She shows up to support the people she cares about regardless of the situation, AND well, Kelly is no different. The difference is this time instead of Kelly pushing her away, icing her out, he admits that he can't do this on his own, and he accepts the help. For the first time since Benny died, he let's Stella in.

He decides. When did he exactly decide? Idk. Like i mentioned at the top. I think it was a series of events that led to this moment.

Could it have been when he realized that life without her was harder than he anticipated or maybe that there was no one like her. Could have been while he was sitting at Mollys and realized that he missed what they had or when she was one of the only people to believe/back his play when it came to finding the serial arsonist.

Regardless of the when. He decided. That a life without Stella Kidd was not a life he wanted to continue in. She was it for him.

So he decided.

[seventh-district]

another Sunday, another evening spent unable to decide what to do with my free time

[loverboybrightsideghost]

the more time passes since i first watched it, the more i like good omens season 2

[missdynamighttt]

all i can think about is mean, pro hero! katsuki giving me backshots, man ☹️

you and katsuki were constantly at each other's throats, whether it was at hero work or at social gatherings. you couldn't stand each other, always arguing and sniping at one another.

but one night, after a few drinks at a work thing, some boring event. something happened. maybe it was just all the tension building up and you simply didn't notice because... you somehow ended up at his place, stripped naked, and honestly? it was mind-blowing.

"hey!" you pant desperately, whimpering from how firmly he grips on your hips. your hands grip onto his couch tightly as your knees hit the soft material. "loosen up a little, my hips are bleeding!"

katsuki's been on edge all day, his mind filled with images of you, wearing your tight fitted clothes that hugged your curves just right, and those high heels that make your legs look endless.

it didn't make it any better when you approached him too, too drunk to even remember where you live, getting you safe in his place and pushing aside your differences for now. maybe a little too much.

"what'cha talking about? i'm not gripping you hard enough," katsuki grins almost devilishly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he continues to slam into you from behind, admiring the warm red marks on your hips.

the alcohol earlier long left his system and yours. all he's drunk on now is the feeling of you clenching down on him, whimpering from beneath him. his hands hold onto your love handles as he pulls you into him, your sweet moans echoing in his ears.

he leans in close, breathing heavily, his voice low and rough. "besides.. you like it when i ram into you like this, don't cha?"

"god, you're insufferable," you huff out, frustration and a hint of vulnerability in your moans. "you're such a... fucking asshole."

katsuki grins at your reaction, his fingers sinking deeper into your skin. its not enough for him, the pleasure hes giving you. seeing as you're still being a bitch. more can't hurt, right?

a hand reaches forward, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back, a sick twisted feeling in him as he watches you struggle to take him.

"watch it, woman." he grunts, his balls twitching as it slams against your pillowy folds. it felt like heaven as he slams his cock hard into your warm cunny, after putting up with your ass for so, so long.

"you knew what you were doing when you decided to show up in that tight little dress. you've been waiting for this, haven't you?"

your yelp of surprise quickly turns into a gasp of pleasure as he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls it back firmly. you try pouting at him but can't keep the moan fully suppressed from your lips.

"not my fault you..." you manage to huff out, your voice filled with irritation and undeniable craving. "get turned on like a pathetic little teenager..."

katsuki laughs at your comment, his laughter quickly turning into a low, growl as he continues to thrust into you. he knows you're taunting him, trying to rile him up. and it's working.

"oh yeah? what makes you think i'm the pathetic one here, hah?" he pauses, landing a hard smack on your ass, earning another yelp from you before holding onto your hips again.

"you're the one on all fours here, getting fucked by me like a dog because you're too needy to wait til we got to bed..."

"don't act like you're any better," you retort, voice shaky with pleasure. "hypocrite.."

he scoffs, giving your hair another firm tug. "i can't help it if you looked that good, brat... besides, you love how much i want you. you love knowing how much i fuckin' need you. don't try to deny it..."

katsuki gives you another smack, this time a little harder. you whimper weakly, face flush with embarrassment as he continues his relentless assault on your cunt.

"you're... hah," you mewl out, voice trembling. "delusional... obsessed."

katsuki laughs again, the sound rough and low in his throat. "yeah, i am. its a real problem. can't help it if you're the only woman that gets me going like this. but you love it."

you muffle your moans by covering your mouth with your hand, your attempts to suppress your growing ecstasy proving very ineffective.

"you're just.. a horny jerk.." you gasp between breaths, the words coming out in a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. "all you are to me is an...easy lay."

katsuki grunts, feeling your words hit him like a punch in the gut. he knows you're trying to push his buttons, to get him to snap.

and it was working.

he tugs roughly on your hair, his eyes narrowing as he glares down at you.

"oh, you think i'm just an easy lay, huh? someone you can use whenever you need to, but then you can toss me aside when you're done? is that what you think i am?"

you can barely speak as he goes rougher on you, your words broken up by moans and gasps of pleasure as his cock bullies your cervix.

your eyes are closed, head thrown back, and all you can get out is a desperate repetition of "no," and "sorry," as you mewled with pleasure and submission.

katsuki loosens his grip on your hair a bit, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as you moan from underneath him.

he loves the way your voice trembles when you apologize, how you get all sweet and vulnerable when he's got you like this.

it's like you're a totally different person when you're not fighting and arguing, and he can't get enough of it.

"yeah? you sorry, huh?" he lands another hard smack on your ass again, another whimper rolling off of your tongue. "you sorry for callin' me names, sayin' things to piss me off?"

"yes, yeah, 'm...sorry... bakugo," you repeat through gasps of pleasure, almost pleading and surrendering to him. "...'m sorry..."

katsuki lets out a low growl, feeling something in his chest tighten at the sound of his name on your lips, your voice soft and vulnerable.

he's not used to seeing you be submissive, his grip on your hips tightening again. what he's used to is you calling him by his name, always in a tone full of sarcasm and irritation. but hearing his name from you, spoken like that...

it's driving him absolutely feral.

"tch. sorry enough to let me do whatever i want to you?" he mutters, his voice rougher than usual, massaging your doughy ass.

you nod, head bobbing up and down feverishly, your face hot from embarrassment. your chest rises and falls as you pant, feeling desperate and needy, the sounds of your rapid breaths echoing in the room.

"yeah? whatever i want?"

"shit— yeah.. anything.. just get on with it, dammit.."

katsuki's eyes narrow as he stares down at you, a sly grin spreading across his face. he knows exactly what he wants, and he can already tell it's going to catch you off guard.

"anything, huh? lean back a little f'me."

you bite down on your lip, contemplating what his next move might be before you gingerly get up on your knees, leaning back against him. you feels his chest pressed firmly against your back, the heat from his skin sinking through you.

katsuki grins, his hand letting go of your hair, moving down to your hips, using his grip to arch you back against him. his other hand grips your chin, angling your head back so he can look you in the eye. he stares down at you for a moment, his gaze intense, his face so close to yours.

then, without warning, he closes the distance between you, his lips crashing down on yours.

you gasp into the kiss, the sound muffled and lost in a tangle of messy, desperate need. you struggle to keep up with the kiss, overpowered by the relentless pace he sets.

as rough as he was, it felt vulnerable. strangely sweet. your lips part and a soft moan escapes, your body shivering and trembling against his.

his tongue pushes into your mouth as he kisses you deeply, desperately, his hands roaming over your body like he can't get enough of you.

he's wanted this for so long, but he never imagined it would feel this good.

katsuki's kisses become more feverish, his hands moving down to your hips, guiding you against him as his body presses against you from behind.

he breaks the kiss with a ragged breath, pushing you down against the couch, your face pressed into the cushions. his hand finds your scalp again, tugging on your hair again as he watches his cock sink deeper into your pussy.

"shit... was that what you were expecting?"

you cry out, the sound muffled by the couch. your body shudders and writhes, your hands clenching into tight fists as you shakes your head, lost in the overwhelming sensation.

"n-no.."

"figured.. but i'm willing to bet you liked it anyway."

you scoff, trying to feign annoyance or irritation, but there's no mistaking the flush on your cheeks or the way your body trembled when he kissed you.

you can't deny the intense and silent yearning when he kissed you, the way it makes you crave his rough touch, the temptation to melt into his arms all too strong despite your resistance.

"oh, you can deny it all you fuckin' want, but your body is tellin' me something different," katsuki grins, watching your body betray your feigned annoyance."act like you hate me, i don't give a shit. but i know you love this."

you pant out weakly, voice trembling and quavering as you whimper. "you're so... damn... mean."

katsuki chuckles, his grip on your hips tightening further as he grinds against you.

"that's right. i'm the worst, aren't i? and yet here you are, drippin' wet on my dick, all because of me."

his rough treatment of you, the way he makes your body shiver and quiver, his dirty, filthy words egging you on, has you trembling and embarrassed, overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure.

every muscle in your body tensed, your back arching against him as a cry escaped you. you were close. so, so close.

"bakugo, please... i.. i'm... gonna...." you moan out as you push your ass onto his abdomen, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you take everything he gives you.

katsuki's body shivers as you moans out his name, the sound sending a wave of electricity through him.

"tch, already?" he clicks his tongue at you, deliberately slowing down the pace. you let out a strangled whine, your body shaking in his grip. "c'mon, you better not get off now... i'm not done with you yet."

"bakugooo... i'm close... please..." you mewled, pleading and needy. "please, i need... i need... " you can't even finish the sentence, your mind consumed with the single-minded desire for him. and his dick.

"begging now, huh? what happened to all that attitude? did i fuck it out of ya that fast?"

"you fuckin' wish... shit... i don't care anymore... just make me feel good, please..."

your body trembles against him, shaking with need and desperation. you're pleading, begging him to give you what you need. you can't even form a coherent thought anymore, your mind fogged up raw, unrelenting need. the need for him.

"you really need it that badly?" katsuki coos almost condescendingly, loving how much you're falling apart beneath him. "you're shaking like a fuckin' leaf. this tight little pussy clenching down on me... you're pathetic."

"fuck, fuck, i'm sorry," your gasps and moans have evolved into a desperate whimpers and needy whines, your body shaking as tears stream down your face. "just need you.. need you so much, please.."

the pleasure overwhelms you, feeling like you're going to come apart at the seams. your body quivers uncontrollably against him, like a puppet whose strings are held by his every touch.

katsuki's mind is swimming, overwhelmed by the sight of you falling to pieces beneath him. he looks down at you, taking in her quivering, desperate state. he's never seen you so vulnerable, so needy for him. it's a sight he didn't know he needed to see.

he gently pulls you up from the couch, using his hand on your wrist. he leans over to you, his lips fanning over your ear, his breath warm on your skin.

"look at me, princess. let me kiss you again."

he calls you princess, not just because of your bratty and entitled demeanor, but because deep down, he wants to treat you like one.

he wants to pamper and spoil you, wrap you in luxurious silk sheets and never let you want for anything.

but admitting that was not easy for him.

so he covers it up, telling himself it's just your attitude that earned the nickname, not any weird, hidden desires.

your face is flushed, feeling embarrassed by his simple request and the intimacy of the moment. but the pleasure he's given you leaves your body and mind too fogged to object. with a breathless gasp, you turn to face him.

katsuki's eyes rake over your face, taking in all of you. for a moment, he looks at you with an expression you've never seen on his face before.

it's softer, gentler than his usual cocky grin or mean glare.

he leans in close, his face a few inches away from yours, his eyes fixated on your lips. slowly, he closes the distance between them, his mouth capturing yours in a surprisingly tender kiss.

as your lips met, it's like the world melts away. it's a feeling so unfamiliar to both of you, but at the same time, it feels so unbelievably right.

you gasp as he pulls away, the sudden absence of his touch leaving you with a pang of emptiness, your body still trembling and buzzing with need.

you want more. but you can't ask him that.

his eyes are fixed on your face, watching your cheeks flush hot with embarrassment as you meet his gaze. he can't help but chuckle, his usual cocky smirk back on his face.

"what, you gettin' all shy on me? after everything we've done tonight, this is what does it for you?"

"shut up..." you click your tongue, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but it's quickly unraveling when he starts his relentless pace again.

your words are broken between gasps and moans as he goes harder, your body arching needily against him. "oh, fuck.. yes, bakugo... please, 'm.. gonna..."

"yeah? you gonna cum for me, princess?" he grins, landing another hard smack on your ass. "you gonna cum all over this dick?"

katsuki's breath hitches at your nod and whiny pleas, his body shuddering against you. he can feel how close you are, and he's not sure how much longer he can hold on himself.

"cum for me, princess. wanna feel you clenching down on me, c'mon..."

at his words, you completely shatter against him, your body trembling, vibrations sending down his body as you whimper and moan against him. your gummy walls clamp down on his cock, painting your insides a creamy white of your own.

katsuki watches you unravel from beneath him, clicking his tongue when he feels close. he pulls his cock out of you, stroking it feverishly.

"fuck," he groans, spurting his thick seed onto your back, digging his nails into your hips.

you huff, chest heaving with each breath as you look back at him, clear frustration and arousal on your face.

"why didn't you.. cum inside?" your voice is a breathless whisper, filled with both annoyance and a hint of pleading need.

his eyes widen a little, his face flush as he lets out a breathless chuckle. "did you want me to?"

he reaches down, his fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle. it's such a contrast from the rough way he treated you earlier, like a completely different side of him.

you scoff and look away, trying to hide the truth behind a pout. even the act of looking away feels like a betrayal to what you truly wanted.

"hmph. why would i want something like that..."

katsuki grins at your defiant expression, loving the feign indifference. he reaches out, tilting your chin up so you're looking at him again.

"you can admit it, y'know. i won't make fun of you."

you pout, as if trying to act like the thought hadn't crossed your mind before. but your words betray your feigned disinterest, cheeks flushed.

"maybe i do. do it inside next time."

his smirk falters a little, showing that gentle look in his eyes again like he's surprised, but not displeased, at your implication.

"you want a next time, princess?"

"yeah... unless, this is a one-time thing?"

it's a question that betrays you, giving him a peak of what you realled wanted. you're trying to sound casual, but the subtle tremble of your voice nearly gives you away.

katsuki notices the tremor in your voice, the hint of vulnerability behind the cool facade. he can tell when you're putting up that tough exterior.

"you really think I'd be done with you after just one night?" he chuckles, his hand moving down to your, rubbing the hot red nails marks.

"oh," your cheeks flushed, embarassed by his words. but you could feel your heart beat hard against your chest as you realize what he meant. "so.. will there be a next time?"

katsuki grins down at you, his hand roaming over you body, still taking in the sight of you, flushed and breathless beneath him.

even if he didn't want to (but deep down, he did), he found it nearly impossible to deny you. it was as if you had some sort of power, a hold on him that made his usual attitude falter.

he was caught, wrapped around your finger, a puppet to your whims, unable to do anything but surrender to you.

and he wanted nothing else.

"oh, there will definitely be a next time, princess. i'm nowhere near done with you yet."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ part two ! ]

[littledes1re]

Hiii, i love your writing. Could you please do one where you and Joel just started dating. And maybe go to a little event or social gathering and he sees a lot of guys looking at you and talking to you and he gets jealous and sad. Thinking you deserve better, younger and he gets insecure. But you make sure he knows you love him. Thanks!!

My Old man

Warnings: Joel is insecure, Age gap!, lots of fluff!!!

It wasn't the first time he'd felt this way. Countless times when you two went out for dinner together or were invited to some event in Jackson, you were stared at. The staring was from young men who wanted to dance with you, who thought you were pretty, hot. But the other old men were staring too. And even the women. They spent the evening gossiping about how the hell you could have landed as a pretty young girl with an old geezer like Joel. Is he holding you hostage? Is he manipulating you? You'd heard it all.

But you never paid attention to this. You were happy with Joel, more than happy. All those other men in Jackson could never give you what Joel gives you.

But Joel still took it to heart.

The looks from others, the gossip. He knew this would happen after he held your hand and said he wanted to be with you. He had his doubts; he never thought you, a beautiful young woman, could ever love him. But you pushed those doubts away every time. You loved him more than anything in this world, and you showed him that, every day.

You saw his face. Pouting and eyebrows furrowed. Deep in thought. This event was a small dance, nothing serious. Joel didn't even want to go, but Maria insisted. Every time any of those men even glanced at you, he got jealous and had a sad face, that looked down on the ground, just thinking. You couldn't bear to look at it much longer.

"Maria, I'm sorry. I'm not feeling well, so Joel and I are leaving early."

You worried Joel with that. He immediately set off alarm bells and asked you if you were okay. When you got home, the questions continued, but you had something else on your mind.

“You mr.miller gonna sit down and we will have a little talk about something.” His face was all confused while you pushed him gently down to the couch, making him sit down.

You sat down on the coffee table in front of him, his sweet eyes never leaving you, like an obedient puppy.

“Baby. My old man. There is nothing in this world that I want more than you. And only you.” You could see his face drop and even heart drop at that.

He sighed into the room, looked at you with a certain exhaustion, and sadness. Uncertainty. "Don't look at me like that, Joel. I mean it, and you should know it."

"Sweetheart, I—I just don't know what you see in me. Heck, these guys that look at you are all fit, they can go with you to those stupid events without whining about their backs, can keep up with you and they don’t have a past.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. You sat up and gently sat down his lap, his cosy pullover hugging you just right.

“I can’t believe you think like that, joel. I don’t care about any of these guys. I don’t care about you ‘not being fit’ which is not true by the way—“ you stopped pointing at his crotch and winking, earning a chuckle from him.

“I don’t even want to go to these stupid events either, look— we went because of maria. Nothing more. Wanted to be home with my man and watch some stupid movies he loves so much.”

“Hey—they ain’t stupid.” He chuckled again.

“Yea yea, whatever. But this is what I really mean joel. Since I came to jackson you were the only one in my eyes. Didn’t care about your past, didn’t care about your back, didn’t care about the fact that you were grumpy—“

“Wait now you are putting extra things in there”

“Sh sh. Didn’t care about any other boys. I saw you and the way you handled things turned me on, your way of demanding, taking care of people, being so stubborn but also the kindest of them all. The one who came to my house because I skipped patrol one day and asked if I was okey.”

His sweet eyes turned glassy, as he held you on your hips and squeezed, letting out a little smile.

“You’re too good to me, baby.”

“Nah, it’s not being good, i’m telling the truth.” You nodded, gently stroking his hair, playing with his curls. “Of course, everything is going slower, of course there are things that you can’t actively do. But I love it just because of that. I enjoy slow evenings on the porch with you. I enjoy waking up late and drinking black coffee that tastes like poison—“ he let out a giggle.

“And I love your wood carvings, your handsome face, your white hair that suits you so much, that grumpy face you always make whenever you need to read something with your glasses.”

You looked into each other’s eyes, he leaned in and connected your lips.

“Can’t believe I have you, baby. My pretty girl.” He cupped your face softly, giving you a peck on your forehead.

“Promise me you are gonna stop having these thoughts about yourself.”

“Can’t really stop them, but I will try and do my best from letting them get me.” He whispered, nodding his head to you.

You put your forehead to his and looked into his beautiful brown eyes, the world around you going silent.

“I love you, joel.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Taglist: @vickie5446 @a-goose-on-mars @thatgirlmendo @ihearttdilfs @pickyeater13 @sweetiegirl16 @keseqna @shivispunk @kyloispunk @meetmeatyourworst @joelmillerswife9 @iveseenstrangerthings50 @idrkman @cuntyhunty22

[blackwhitez]

BET YOU ────────୨ৎ

⤿ ALTERNATIVELY ✿ the science nerd fucks you in his dorm ᝰ.ᐟ

⤿ wc: 5k

s. jy × fem . reader

ⓘ cw: smut, academic rivals, literature student : reader, science student : jake, enemies to lovers?, they're literally nerds, unprotected sex, embarrassment, whiny jake, puppy!jake agenda, a lot of it, he's so cute, public-ish sex (not exhibitionism), eating out (fem), overstimulation, teasing, sexual tension. ♡

you always had your own suspicions around him—everyone called him a sweetheart, the golden retriever of the campus, kind to everyone. you thought no one could possibly be this good, but the more he spoke with his beautiful smile and gorgeous flowy hair, the more you believed it. that's until... he went on an uncalled for debate with you over his amazing science major.

you were in the college's conference hall with few elite students and three other professors discussing orientation plans and how to get students into your majors. you volunteered to help, and just so happens the sweetheart jake sim people talk about is here too. it's not a surprise. you see him around often when you participate in college events that bring different majors together. but it's your first time having a one on one talk with him.

"I could write down the history of the big tree planted in the campus' entrance, how it was planted when the first ever female student enrolled in our college." as you spoke, you heard a huff of a laugh. "I don't think new students would care about some history." he tilted his head, and your eyebrow rose.

"that's the issue about your major, it's not interesting enough." he played with the pen he had been fidgeting with for a while. "in science, you could explain the world with clarity poetry can never reach. it's so much deeper than words." he eyed you, eyes challenging and smug. you didn't break the contact, refusing to show weakness. but the more you did the hotter he got blabbing about science. he continued about the gravitational wave lab and the latest discoveries. meanwhile, your blood continued to boil. you have no idea you're fuming because of the insult to your major or of how gorgeous he looks with that stupid sunray casting on him from the hall's window like a paid actor.

the professors and students listened in amusement as you both went back and forth. one professor enjoyed it so much she suggested you two be the hosts for the panel during orientation week. you accepted the opportunity immediately. yes, you do volunteer often, but you're still not at the top of the top. it's perfect to boost your resume and get you noticed. of course, jake accepted the request, too.

when you left the hall, you heard someone whispering next to you. "hey, don't get the wrong idea. I wasn't arguing with you. I'm just that passionate about science." you look up to see him again, closer and ever dazzlingly beautiful. "it's fine. I don't get to defend my major that often, 't was fun." you say, as you continue to walk. "I think professor lee is more convinced over the impact of the science major, though." you internally roll your eyes, you could care less. before you speak again, he goes, "hey! wanna place a bet?"

you look at him. he's smiling so wide, the way you often had glimpses of from far away, but now it's close and... pretty. "who can convince professor lee to publicly endorse their major as more impactful wins the bet." oh, now you're interested. you would, in fact, love that. "and the prize?" you try to hide how amused you sound, but it shows, he grins. "ummm... the winner gets the other person to wear their major's sweater merch for a whole week."

that's so stupid...

but it's fun...

"sure." and that's how it starts. orientation week rolls in, where you both get busy with events and the bet on the line. you'd steal glimpses on what he's doing with his colleagues, and you'd catch him doing the same. the panel goes as heated as it was in the hall last time. this time, the friendly rivalry draws giggles from the students. you would occasionally shake your head, and when you look at him, he flashes you the cutest smile and winks. you had no idea what that meant.

you actually have no idea what most of his actions meant. if it were you, you'd call him a wolf than a golden retriever with the way he randomly gives you those dreamy eyes and raises his eyebrows before he looks away when you all were out handing flyers; with the way he's surrounded by a group of giggly girls most of the time; with the way he bites his lips and brushes his long hair with his fingers. he knows what he's doing.

but precisely, with the way he found you walking alone in a hallway to get more flyers and stopped you there. "I don't think you have to work that hard," you literally roll your eyes this time. "worry about yourself." he steps closer, with a pout. you're kind of taken aback, so you retreat your steps, accidentally cornering yourself between the wall and him. to your surprise, he leans into your ear. "count your days, y/n" his breath tickles you, "you will be wearing my sweater soon"

"my sweater"

he is insane

you hate yourself more by the end of the week, because—he won. of course he did. and here you are hovering your mouse over the college's merchandise shop tap. but most of them are sold out after the orientation week. you hear a kakaotalk ping and look at your phone. it's a new chat.

"can't wait to see you next week ^^"

clicking on the profile tells you who it is, though you guessed from the content of the text. you text him back.

"it's sold out"

"what to do?~ ^^"

you give him the same energy back. you hoped that would make him give up on the dumb bet, but you underestimated the nerd you're talking to. jake would never back down.

"come to my dorm I'll give you mine"

and he sends a cute and teasing sticker. he's annoying... but cutely so. he likes to push your buttons and you hate how much you enjoy it. you admit, being single for a while got you awfully bored. after that first debate and the entirety of orientation week has been the most fun you had for a long while. what could go wrong? you will just go and recieve a sweater.

you grab a jacket to throw it over your camisole and text him that you're coming. the sky was a gorgeous orange as you strolled your way to the boy's dorms. you text him again when you're outside, but he tells you to come to his room. you huff and hesitantly go in. It’s kind of quiet, and the few male students who spot you only took a quick glance and went about their business. you know some female students would invade the boy's dorm to see their boyfriends and vice versa, but something about it still feels weird for you.

you gently knock his door and he opens it in seconds. walking in his room, you can neither call it clean or messy. it's a bit of both. you could tell he tried to throw some clothes that were scattered on his bed into a "tidy" pile next to his closet. but one thing for sure, it smells really nice. not overwhelming at all, smells like fabric softner and faintly of flowers. something you never expected. but if you were to be honest, it still smells heavy of him.

"I have to admit, you did really well this week." you raise your brow in suspect with this sudden gentle tone. "why? is it weird to compliment you?" you nodded, "yes. I'm actually scared." he went to his closet and got his sweater off the hook. "I actually almost called off the bet halfway, because it felt stupid... but every time I saw the sweater it got me thinking of you wearing it." you can't tell if his grin was innocent or with a deeper intent. nevertheless, he looked like a puppy excited for a treat. except, he's holding it out for you.

"wear it, I can't wait till next week." he says, excited. he goes to sit on his desk's chair after handing you the sweater, his sweater paws between his legs, and looks at you with utmost anticipation. if he had a tail, it would be wagging. you swear you can see it. "now?" you look around the tiny proximity of his room. "yes!" you sigh, "fine. well... will you turn around or watch me strip?" he tilts his head, "would you let me?" you almost throw the damned sweater at him but he holds his hands up, "okay, okay."

when he turns his wheeled chair the other side, you make sure he's not stealing glances—you do trust him it's just your own little insecurity—before you take off your jacket and top, fold it aside, and put on the sweater. the smell of the same fabric softer in the air is coming off of it. "okay... I'm done." you fix your hair and straighten the sweater and your shorts.

for a few moments he doesn't say anything, just watches with a blank expression. for some reason, something about it—the whole thing feels extremely illegal, scandalous, hot. you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, being in his territory, wearing his clothes as he watches you. an amusing smile finally breaks his controlled features, his voice shaky "not bad. looks better on you than me."

"well, I'm glad it's washed. I was going to walk out if it smelled like shit." he finally relaxed a little and giggled, blushing. he was blushing. why was he blushing so much? you know he's nervous with the way he can't stop touching his hair and abusing his lips. you wanted to tell him to stop before they start bleeding. "but really, what was the bet for?" you know it was just for fun, but jake knows both of you are busy students and would care less for stupid things like this. so, why did he start a bet out of no where.

"why did you agree?" he asks instead, tilting his head in the same amused way he does, but his eyes were more deliberate, intent. like he wants to get out a secret out of you before he tells his own. "you can't return the same question" you hold your ground. "and why is that," now he's off his chair, hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. "is it not literary correct?" he teases. you look away, hiding how his silly teasings gets you worked up.

"I was just curious, because you seem to enjoy it so much." you start to notice the waver in your voice, nerves getting to you, he's getting to you with the way he's standing tall in his room and looking ever handsome in the dimmed lights. the once fresh air feels thick and suffocating. your hands clasp to the hem of the sweater, noticing how they started sweating. even though you liked to take jake lightly and joke with him, you can't deny how actually smart he is and how tactful. you feel like you walked into his trap, but you don't seem to mind it.

he pushes his lip into a pout and raises his shoulders, "I did. but you seem to have enjoyed it too?" he teases again, with a knowing smile. that similar feeling you had in the conference hall is back. where you start to fume for all different reasons. he sees it, and you know he does. the faint dilation of your eyes. he knows his own affect on you. you can see it in the way he grins without his eyes. caught on your own thoughts to form a protest, to find the right words to attack him back, he goes first with soft strides you almost don't notice. before you feel his hand on the side of your face and lips locked fervently onto yours.

very quickly, your world starts spinning. it takes you few seconds to process you're kissing jake. jake the science major nerd. jake the beloved golden retriever of everyone. jake who always looks at you with such intent no one else does. the fumes in your body rush to your face. his lips feel so soft and hot, burning you both. once you respond, instinctively opening up for him, you feel him get more excited. enthusiastic with the way he holds you closer by your waist and slide his tongue over the plush of your lips. he almost suffocates you with his fervor.

placing your hands over his chest and shoulders, you did not know how much you were craving this. craving jake. yes, you've thought of how would it be like if you dated—and it sounded so silly and embarrassing you quickly made yourself forget about it, but you never thought how would it feel to have his plump lips caress yours, how his big warm hands hold your waist, how he would manhandle you and lift you to his bed, how it would feel to straddle him and return his kisses.

hours went by like minutes as you make out on his bed, as he sucks and bites your neck with his hand sneaking under your – his – sweater. your stomach flex, chills running through you at the contact of his soft fingertips caressing your body. you pant next to his head, his hair tickling you. a hot suck on a spot between your collarbone and neck draw a suppressed moan out of you. "jake..." you plea, hips rocking in swift motion onto his. you want him so bad. it's so bad it's driving you insane. you can feel him twitching, you can feel him so hard he keeps whining when you press on it.

"shit... you feel so nice, y/n" he speaks from your shoulder. he looks back for a quick check on you, "never thought I'd get the literature nerd on my lap" he grins his silly, flirty attempt grin he always gives you across campus and on the panel and in hallways. you couldn't hide the little bashful laugh that comes out of you, looking off distance. "what? you're shy now?" he pries for your gaze. "you wish." you trace a finger over his waistband, palm had no choice but to brush over the rising bulge, a noticeable twitch pushes the fabric. you hear him swallow, watching your every little action. "I knew it all along, you're not as innocent as you make yourself seem."

this time, your palm landed gently on his bulge, pressing curiously. this made you realise how much he have been holding back, because the simple touch made him jolt and hiss. you were shocked at first, but now you're the one having a mischievous grin on your face. your hand teasingly rub up and down his clothed cock. you notice, it's bigger than you thought. you squeeze, just a little bit, feeling it out. a guttural moan comes out of jake it makes your insides twitch. shit, you really like hearing him like this.

you sat up on your knees, jake watches you as you slide your shorts and panties off. the science sweater stays on. he gulps once more; how you're half naked with only his sweater on. pulling on his waistband to free him, cock rising and falling it makes you sick. you let him focus on you again, gently kissing his cheek, his soft but sharp jaw, his lips. as you move, his cock slaps the wetness of your exposed clit making you moan and lean into it. gliding on him feels so good you're seeing stars. and he's not even inside yet.

after menacing minutes of drawing whines out of the both of you, your cunt throbbing from the contact, from the smooth and sticky slide over his veins, and over the shroom of his head. he's impossibly hard and aching. translucent plops blooming out and dripping down his length. "fuck, y/n. if you don't ride me already–" he huffs in your neck, holding your hips so hard you think it would leave printed marks. "patience," you would never let him one up you in this game you created.

if he smiled you can't see it, as you align and slowly sit on him. you bite your lip, you did nothing to prepare. you're dripping wet but still a little tight. "fuck." you feel his tip plop in. the more you go down the more dizzy you are and can't take control anymore. you're glad he has his big hand on your lower back and helps you go all the way.

impatient, you start moving before he's all the way in. and fuck he feels amazing. he feels so so good, you think you're gushing wet again. "ahh.. y/n" his lips swollen and wet with your spit, skin flushing red and glistening. he had took off his own top at some point. your hand on his pretty abs as you kiss again and again. his taste is addicting, the way he bites you is addicting. you keep moving, and he keeps getting deeper. you keep tasting heaven every time his shroom tip grazes that spot. "shit, shit, shit, jake!" you're long lost careful with the noise being too loud and travelling the thin walls. anyone passing by would hear that. hell, anyone on the same floor. It’s probably dinner time by now. the sun is setting, and the room is getting dimmer, but both of you are getting hotter.

jake's hand have undone your bra under his sweater long ago, working one tit and mouth bruising a new spot beneath your ear. the pressure of his hand is dizzying. you almost lose your pace on his dick, so he picks it up, starts fucking you relentlessly while hugging your waist you start to see white. you try to focus on him and kiss him again but all you can do is pant and rest your forehead on his.

you're incredibly close you can taste it. "oh, I'm gonna cum." jake breathes. god his sounds turn you on so much. his whines and the way he keeps hitting the spot are throwing you over the edge. "I'm cumming, I'm cumming.." he almost cries. "please." you respond, wanting to feel it. wanting him to paint your walls as you cum too. you're tightening so much it draw moans and whines from the both of you. he's holding you so strong and close, focusing all his willpower into fucking you. "y/n..."

"oh- my god" you feel it, your knees clenching as you cum hard. the waves rip through your stomach to the top of your head. jake is cursing too. you can't tell if he came before or after you—or with you, but he stills for a moment, holding you strong, flush to his chest. he then moves slowly, riding out the high. cold sweat drips down your waist and bare thighs between jake. he stays hugging, face in your neck. your head throbbing and your core too. you take still moments to breath. faint sounds outside brings you back. "oh no... how am I gonna leave like this." you breath, in delirium.

jake finally looks, "you can stay?" he's back to his menacing act. and he still looks fucking hot, if not hotter with sex sweat glistening his face. "yeah, no." you try to hide the simmering blush with a stern tone. you really just fucked one of the elite students of your college, in his own dorm room, in his own major's sweater, shamelessly. looking back to day one at the conference hall, he was giving you this same look, like he'd be more than pleased to devour you.

when the sounds outside subside, you slowly and carefully shift off jake. "i need to go before there's more people around after dinner." you feel jake pouting without you looking as you collect your clothes. logically, he knows you're correct. but emotionally, he's already missing your warmth. he thought he'd get to do some aftercare, kiss you more as if he didn't a thousand times just now, cuddle you, and kiss you more everywhere. but you're already out the door.

the weekend pass by in an odd whim. you're constantly thinking about jake, the back and forth teasings of last week, the sex... his mouth... his smile... just how much he made you feel good. but also, the whole ambiguity around it. you're not dating and you're not friends either? you have no idea what you are and why you kept pushing and pulling each other. so, you just left. like none of that happened. you were so hot and embarrassed you chickened out. he got what he wanted and you got what you want(?) so what's more there to it?

when you meet again at the same conference hall to receive your rewards and few good words from your assigned professor. you try your best to act normal, though you can't help yourself checking on him every time the professor is speaking to him and the focus is not on you anymore. he seems normal. in his usual clean and professional, yet casual attire. did he get a haircut? his hair still looks long and curling at the ends but tidy. that's until your eyes meet. he looks a little worried, but there's also the glint of desire.

the professor makes a joke that you both look like the perfect pair and whispers, questioning if you're not dating already. you both just giggle and kindly deny the rumor, it probably became a topic among the professors who seen your debates. you and jake... together... he is cute. he'd make the loveliest boyfriend. it honestly would be funny if a perfect literature girl dated an elite science guy. you just know it would be a hot topic that would keep students amused until you both graduate. after the short meeting and exchange of empty future plans you both just nod off to and suggest empty promises, you two exist and to your surprise, a hand hooks onto yours and you're dragged into the nearest secluded class.

jake doesn't even bother to turn on the light, the sun coming in through the windows is enough. "everything's okay? did I do anything wrong?" you feel the worry dripping from his voice. like it's been killing him the entire weekend. he's so close, like he wants to be assured so bad. he really thought he did something wrong? when you were the one that ran out?

you soften, touching his cheek carefully. hesitant. "no, jake. you did nothing wrong." he literally melts, leaning into your touch like an obedient pup. he's a tall and huge guy. and yet, your simple touch affects him this much. you hate and love how much he affects you, how much your heart is throbbing inside your chest when he's looking at you like this.

it happens out of habit, a new habit you formed for him, you hook your hand through the back of his hair and the other arm over his shoulder and kiss him for all the wait you put him through. he moans.

that's how much he craved you through the weekend. but his kisses are gentle, yet passionate enough to tell you "I still want you and I will continue to". you can never get used to how good his mouth feels and tastes. it's always so plush and full of spit. bigger than yours, he almost devours you—and he does. in few minutes, his hand worked the buttons of your polo sweater, his mouth tasting your chest, trailing kisses to your ribcage and stomach. he kisses it with so much love it makes you melt. his hands hooked to your thighs, riding up under your skirt. you gasp when his hand grip your ass at the same time he's sucking a spot on your hip. he's going to be the end of you.

the next thing you know, your panties are down and jake taking his time placing kisses to your inner thigh. he watches you drip with wetness caused by him like it amuses him. the way he looks up at you drives you insane. "been thinking about you" he says, holding your leg up to get closer to your cunt. trailing his hot mouth in the direction where you want him to go. "wanted to taste you" and that's the last thing he whispers before he gives in to his need for you. his mouth latches openly on your core you literally wail and shake. "jake!"

his tongue flicks between your folds and he looks drunk how much he's enjoying the taste. he looks hungry. "oh my god," your hand goes from holding the wall behind you to one shotting out to thread through his hair since you can't stop yourself from moving to his face. he doesn't seem to mind any of it. he looks up at you, underneath his now messy bangs like he's telling you to go ahead and use him.

feels weird

you want to say, but the sensation is taking over you. It’s your first time getting eaten out and you didn't imagine you'd recieve it standing like this. with nothing but a wall for support. you want to push him, but you also like it. it feels really good. so good your thighs almost suffocating him. but he doesn't look like he'd care to lose his breath with him going in, nose deep, slippery sounds coming out, and you feel him drooling so much it's running down his chin.

to your surprise, long fingers slide in—you're assuming two—and curl making you hold in a scream. "I'm gonna cum, jake. I ca–" you were reaching your high when he suddenly started sucking hard. you felt like you were exploding into several fireworks, covering your mouth not to make the same mistake again. although you know, it’s probably too late by now. he licks and sucks you through it, you start begging him to stop. when he does, he gently puts down your leg and licks whatever remnants of spit and your cum on his mouth. he still looks like he wants more, eyes heavy and dilating when he gets up. but the way he kisses you is soft and gentle.

you feel him working something down with his free hand and then his bare cock rubbing on you. he must have been aching so much in his pants. you let him have his way with you, hand back into his hair soothing him through it. he sucks down your neck, as he's pounding and writhing against you like a horny dog. "god. I can't believe how you make me feel, y/n..." the head of his cock keeps poking, before he finally hold it and forces himself in with the most satisfying slide you suddenly want to cum again. you tentatively hold your knee up to make it easier for him and hook it around him. "keep talking to me like this and I'd think you really want me."

"what if I do, y/n?" you hear him pant to your ear, hips never stopping. "what if I actually... really... love you." your insides churn at that, eyelids fluttering. "bullshit." you had enough experience you know most of them throw this word around whenever. but jake, he was patient. he didn't get into your pants until he knew you wanted him too. you have no idea why you're trying to deny how his looks are different, his touch is different.

his thrusts halts for seconds. he slides out and you think it's over, it's done. but he's twisting you to face the wall and holds your hips out for him. you gulp, he's sliding in again to fuck you from behind. he rests his chin on your shoulder as he holds you in place. he's always close, like he never wants to be a sentimeter away from you. "you... you seem to not trust me yet. let me show you" moans escape you, he's so so deep. you don't think he got this deep last time. you want to say something back, have the last word, always, and it’s like he knows you do so he's going harder. his body is pushing you it’s making you one with the wall.

"jake. fuck, fuck, fuckkk." his free hand that was on your stomach, goes down to rub your dripping clit and you patently scream to the wall tilting your hips. his other hand somehow lift your bra, cupping your tit and squeezing your nip. you feel him everywhere it's dizzying. the sight of his veiny arm and fingers working your core as he keeps rutting into make you see the heavens gate.

his little whines next to your face is the cherry on top. he whines like an injured puppy it makes you want to cry. who knew he sounded this beautiful high with pleasure. is this how much he wants you? you want to tell him you wanted him too, you craved him too. but you can't help but whine it out, just like him.

it's coming, achingly close your knees joining together. the sensation of his hot fingers rapidly working you, his dick pushing all the way you feel it in your stomach, the warm hand and faint squeezes on your tit. "jake..." he's getting hold of every part of you deep inside until you explode. it arrives in waves, you don't know how many. just when you think it stopped, you're losing it again. in the midst of it, comes jake's mantra, "I'm coming, I'm coming..." you never heard such a melodic voice. you're seeing a pattern—he likes to announce his coming over and over. he stills deep in your cervix, gushing white ropes. you wince and whine, jake is pushing you further to the wall until there's really no space. his hand on your stomach.

there's a wet, droopy kiss on your neck. it sends chills, even after everything that had happened. the kiss lingers as he mutters into it under his breath. "I want you." he say, with demand. as if he didn't just had his way with you. but you understand it as in, "I want to continue this" he makes you chuckle a little bit—he doesn't know it yet but he's a romantic himself. you will tell him later.

♥︎ : @srehyaps

[yoonjae20]

Danny deeply distrusts the Justice League

Based on the wonderful @saltymarshmall0w 's prompt.

I really feel like they aren't enough fanfics or prompts where Danny dislikes the Justice League — and continues to dislike them even after everything (Anti-Ecto Acts) is revealed and taken care of. (Or maybe I'm not looking in the right places — if you guys have any recommendations put them in the Tags or Comments!)

Read on ao3. Masterpost

After many years Danny has finally retired — sure he had to leave everything he loved and that was familiar to him behind for it, but it was worth it. He had a small little house that was his own, he would water his plants every morning and make small talk with his neighbors. Everything was fine. 

Everything turns not so fine, when there’s a sudden knock on his door. Expecting it to be one of his neighbors — for example needing eggs or flour (a neighbor’s kid had needed eggs to bake one of her parents a cake and Danny had been more than willing to spare the few she needed) — he opens the door without a second thought.

Only to almost immediately want to close it again. 

Because that’s the Justice League standing in front of his door. And that can mean nothing good.

Before Danny can slam the door closed, Superman‘s shoe slides in between the door frame, blocking his escape. The smile the man shoots him is probably meant to be reassuring, but the only thing Danny feels is dread. 

To most civilians the Justice League is seen as a beacon of hope — but to Danny? He knows the bitter truth. When he needed them the most they turned his back on him before chasing him across half the globe calling him a villain without even hearing his side of the story. They handed him over the GIW for Ancient’s Sake. He would have died if it weren’t for Tucker and Sam. (He may not have scars to show for it but he can still feel his chest burn when he thinks back to it.) Not that they can remember that though. He still doesn’t trust them. 

“You are Danny Fenton, correct?” Superman asks and Danny stiffens. 

Fenton — not Nightingale like he has changed his surname into to escape his parents influence and leave everything behind. 

“Yes,” he says warily — seeing no point in lying. Considering Batman is lingering behind Superman the Detective would figure it out instantly. 

“And you used to be Amity’s Park’s vigilante Phantom?”

Danny grips the door frame, knuckles white. What’s their point? Are they trying to intimidate him?

“Yes,” he grits out. 

“We were told that you are the one we should seek out in matters involving Ghosts and the Infinite Realms,” Superman continues, but Danny doesn’t let him finish.

“I’m retired,” he interrupts. “Find someone else.”  

“There’s a world-ending event,” Superman says like that would convince Danny. Like Danny hadn’t lived though so many of them — had to prevent them from happening without anyone’s help every single time. Guilt-tripping much? “Even if you don’t want to fight — we need you as an advisor.”

Danny snorts, shaking his head. 

“Go take up the matter with the Justice League Dark then.” 

Danny moves to close the door, but still Superman’s foot doesn’t budge. He could probably brute-force his way through this — but Danny’s tired and he’s not in the mood to explain to his neighbors why his door is broken and he needs to do repairs.

He glares at them and to his surprise Superman actually takes a step back — but still not enough to be able to close the door. 

Danny hasn’t transformed into Phantom since he left Amity Park. Had kept that part of himself locked away — would have separated his Ghost Self from himself if he didn’t know he would be selfish for that. Had ignored his Obsession even if it screamed at him — had pushed it away in his Human Form even if it muted all the colors around him and it meant that every breath was a painful wheeze.

Faced with this situation he almost wants to break the promise he made to himself — but he can’t.

There is no GIW anymore —  Danny had made sure of that. He had wiped all of their files and his parents published research with the help of Technus. He had dismantled both portals to the Ghost Zone and made sure no one would be able to replicate it. But Danny also knows the Justice League — knows how much Superman’s punches hurt, how it feels to get mind controlled — they could overpower him in an instant if he twitched as much as into the wrong direction.  

He really doesn’t have a choice here, doesn’t he? If he doesn’t go out of his free will — they will force him with any means necessary, of that much he is sure. 

His gaze trails to his neighbor’s house and the swing in their backyard. And if they are right and he turns them away — is he sure he won’t feel any guilt if something happens that he could have prevented? Sometimes Danny really hates his Martyr Complex. 

Danny sighs, defeated.

“What do you need my help for?”

They had liked their new neighbor despite the fact that he barely left his house other than to water his plants. They had known that the young man was sickly. He looked like death wormed him over and was weak on his feet— his ice-blue eyes dull. His smile barely held any warmth in it.

Still they invited them over after he had given their daughter eggs to bake the cake for their birthday. They learned that he was kind and had escaped to their small village to live a quiet life. 

When the young man came to tell them that he would be out of town for a few days and to please water his plants if they could, they were worried.

“Are you sure that you are fine, son?” they asked and touched the man’s forehead — but it was icily cold like the rest of their skin had always been. “You look even paler than usual.”

The young man had only given them a half-hearted smile and affirmed them that he was fine

Their daughter's excited steps had hurried behind them and she tugged on their pants after the man had left. 

“Was that Uncle Danny?” the girl asked. “Can I play with him?”

They gave their daughter a weak smile. 

“Uncle Danny is busy for a few days,” they explained. “Later, okay? How about you draw him a picture while we wait for him to come back? So he has something to look forward to?” 

Their daughter nodded and raced back to the living room, searching for supplies, while they continued looking out of the window. They can’t help but have a bad feeling about this.  

It’s unnerving how quiet the young man is. 

There are no easy smiles, sassy quips and puns like from the few shaky phone videos they had pulled from the internet about Phantom. 

He’s meticulous. Probably even more than Batman — and that is a statement. There had been a deep mistrust in the eyes when they had located him and asked him to help them. It’s evident in every step he makes. He double-, even triple-checks every single evidence, every single sentence, every single word they say. 

Nothing is left unturned as he works the way though the situation like if he is dealing with a case. He never stops moving, always doing something — reading through heavy leather-bound books or through their reports. His heart rate is so slow that Clark sometimes wonders if the boy is still breathing at all. 

When the young man had asked them if they spoke to the leader regarding the war declaration and the reasons behind them, he had clicked his tongue when they told him no.

He hadn’t let anyone help him when he drew out the summoning cycle — it looked even more intricate and complicated than they had seen from Zatanna or Constantine. When he had spoken the words for the spell,  his words had sounded ancient and undescribable — hushed whispers following every single word. He clasped his hands and only opened his eyes when he spoke the last word, his eyes burning a deep green. 

The cycle goes up in green fire before a form appears — Clark recognizes the Ghost from the declaration. 

The man’s cold gaze sweeps over the Justice League before it stops on Phantom. He smirks, bowing his head slightly.

“I greet the Prince of the Infinite Realms.”

“Cut the crap Fright Knight,” Phantom's voice is steel-hard. “We both know I refused that position.”

The man tilts his head but nods.

“Very well,” he says. “I greet Phantom, savior of the Infinite Realms.”

Phantom grits his teeth like he wants to refuse that title too before he shakes his head. He gestures to the Justice League.

“Explain.”

“We are just paying back what has been done to us,” Fright Knight claims. “Vita brevis, ars longa, occasio praeceps, experimentum periculosum, iudicium difficile.”

“Life is short, art is long, opportunity fleeting, experiment treacherous, judgment difficult,” Diana translates for them. 

“I see the Daughter of the Queen of the Amazons knows her arts,” the man’s voice has a hint of mockery. “Humanum genus est avidum nimis auricularum. Ignorantia legis non excusat:”

Diana’s eyebrows knit together as she listens. 

“Mankind is too greedy for lies. Ignorance of the law does not excuse,” her voice is almost a whisper. 

“I would have thought you would know of this Phantom,” Fright Knight addresses the young man again. “But now seeing your state, you probably didn’t feel the call for the announcement either. Is there a reason why you are starving yourself?”

Phantom doesn’t meet any of their eyes as he answers.

“That is unimportant to this situation.”

Fright Knight’s lips twitch back into a grin. 

“If the savior of the Infinite Dreams claims so, then I have no choice but to accept it.” He turns back to the Justice League. “Si vis pacem, para bellum.”

“If you want peace, prepare for war.”

“When have we been ignorant?” Batman finally steps in. 

Fright Knight huffs out a dark laugh.

“When has mankind not been ignorant?” Fright Knight questions. “When your government captured my brethren and tortured them, where were you? When they declared us as non-sentient and staged war against us, where were you? When they threatened to destroy our home, where were you?”

The man’s eyes seem to burn as he repeats himself.

“Where were you?”

Clark and the rest of the League are shocked to silence. 

“Now that the danger has passed, why should we just forgive you? Why should we forget?” Fright Knight continues. “If we are not worthy enough to be counted towards mankind that means we just have to rewrite the rules. And since we were never given the chance to negotiate, that means by force.”

“The Meta-Protection Acts-” 

“Only count towards those that are alive.” Fright Knight interrupts Batman. “After all, how can the dead feel any emotions such as pain? I’m sure if you ask your government they will hand you a lot of pretty reports on the biased experiments that prove so.” 

“But that’s-” Clark starts but Fright Knight doesn’t let him finish.

“Despicable? When has that ever stopped mankind?” Fright Knight asks. “We can talk if there isn't a law that states that we can be eradicated without any consequences.”

Before either of them can stop him, Fright Knight swishes his cape made out of purple fire and disappears. Clark faintly asks himself if that is how other people feel when Batman does that in front of their noses. 

Seeing no other option the entire League turns back to Phantom who hasn’t said a single word since the Ghost went on his tirade.

“Phantom-” Batman tries, but the young man’s eyes burn with so much hate that the normally stoic man stocks in his words. 

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” Phantom seethes. “You heard him. Now finally do your jobs right for once.”

Then he leaves the room without a single glance back.

Clark gulps as they look at each other.

“I feel like we made a mistake.”

When the news declares the Anti-Ecto Acts as abolished, Danny feels nothing but exhaustion. The Justice League barely managed to avoid a large-scale — and very justified war. 

Danny leans back tiredly on his sofa. His eyes trail to the drawing his neighbor’s daughter had given him and the first genuine smile in months graces his lips.

“What I don’t do for mankind,” he sighs before he closes his eyes. 

[m3mento-m0rii]

Hello! I've discovered your blog and I must say, I've fallen in love with your writing style! I literally spent all night reading all your Saja Boy drabbles, HE'S, scenarios, etc! And I want to request one.

Reader is dating the Saja Boys, but they haven't gone public so that Reader didn't get harassed online by stans and fans alike. But when some girl gets just a little too close to their man, Reader gets a little jealous *ahem* possessive.

Also, if its not taken yet, I'd like to claim 💋 as my Anon emoji please! And I'd also like a Buisness Class Airline ticket!

The Boy Is Mine—

2.4k words; Saja Boys x Reader

Masterlist | Requests paused!

Honestly? You would deal with the stan hate if it meant you could beat the fans off your boyfriend with a stick (metamorphically (probably)).

A/N: First of all . . . WELCOME kiss anon!! HI thank you so much for requesting. And I'm so sorry it took me this long to fill out your request. I was struggling a little bit with it and then I kept getting more and more so I took a break from yours to fill out Radio Silence and that took a while and—okay now I'm back. Still, I hope you enjoy.

Jinu—

You liked to think you were a forgiving person, sharing your boyfriend with the world and everything. At first, it was funny to know all the people that wanted him, and gratifying to know that you’re the only one that had him.

Then came the people that liked to push the envelope. Then it wasn’t so funny anymore.

As Jinu’s partner, you always had an invitation to their shows. Of course you did, why wouldn’t you? Always in the front, always able to watch him shine. And boy did you love it; you swear that every time he hypnotized the crowd, he was entrancing you again, too.

Well, this show in particular had a backstage event for some fans, and you watched from the wings after the show as a few fans swarmed about. It was amusing to watch them fawn and coo over the Sajas—well.

At least until one approached Jinu in a certain way.

“Jinu! hello,” she beamed, her fingers already playing in her hair. “You’re so much prettier in real life.”

Okay, not the strangest thing you’ve heard a fan say to him.

“Thank you,” he played his part; you smirked, knowing that the fans would never know how much of a dork he really was. “Do you want a picture?”

“Yes, please!” She posed with him, and Jinu smiled for the camera. Except he cringed a little because her arm wrapped around his waist. And not in the ‘light’ way.

You blinked, unsure if you were seeing this properly. Who did this girl think she was??

Still, Jinu braved through the photo, going to pull away; she let go. Though, she also leaned in, looking up at him like he was emitting sparkles and sunshine.

Jinu’s smile got a little tighter. Your eyes narrowed as she spoke quieter, and you were a bit too far away to hear the conversation. Still, she began to stand up a bit more, and Jinu took a step back.

He looked like he was ready to escape.

Okay. Time to intervene.

“Jinuu, hey,” you slid up to him, your arm dangling over his shoulder. He glanced at you, unsure of what you were playing at, but grateful all the same. “You know, Baby was looking for you.”

He almost visibly deflated in relief, his own arm snaking around you. “Oh, he probably wants to talk about that new song.” Riiiight. “It was nice meeting you! Thank you for your continued support. Okay, bye—”

Jinu practically dragged you along. You snickered as he made a quick escape, not even glancing back at the (likely fuming) girl. “You’re welcome,” you grinned.

“Yeah, thank you. Except you’re going to have the entire pride after you,” he huffed.

“Worth it.”

Abby—

His whole shtick was literally his abs, you should have expected this to happen eventually.

The both of you had been in public (incognito mode), walking hand in hand for a while, just minding your business; as a couple might do. But you were reminded of something that caught your eye—you had to double-check that storefront. You had already started moving, and Abby instinctively came with you, but you stopped him.

“No, it’s okay. It’ll just be second.”

He frowned, but let you go, anyway; the warmth of your hand lingered in his palm. “Be careful.”

“It’s a few yards away max,” you brushed off.

“That doesn’t mean I want you to be any less safe??”

You threw him a smile over your shoulder, waving as you approached the glass display.

Your eyes scanned it for a moment, looking at all the different items. Not what you were looking for, despite your hope. You popped into the store quickly just to make sure, and you were right; it wasn’t there. That was fine, you could just get it online.

As you walked back out, though, something else grabbed your attention. This random girl, talking to Abby. Obviously, you could live with that. You watched from a distance, letting the fan have her moment like they always got to, but you immediately zoned in when you noticed her getting a little too close.

Brushing his arm, laughing too close, that way she leaned in to ‘hear him talk’. You could just see it on her face. And you couldn’t even be mad, because Abby was fine and it wasn’t common knowledge that he was in a relationship with someone. With you.

But that didn’t make you hate it any less.

Especially when she had the audacity to reach for his abs.

Before anyone knew it, arms were curling around Abby’s waist, your hands conveniently placed against his abdomen. Your head rested against his shoulder blade in that way you knew always made him melt. “I’m back, lovely.”

You didn’t have to see him to hear the grin in his voice. “Hey. Did you find what you were looking for?”

“No, but that’s okay,” you tilted your head, meeting eyes with that girl. 

The look in her eyes was nasty. It brought you great content. “Hey, you must be a fan, right?”

“Yes, but I was just finished, actually,” she casted a fake smile to the pair of you, and you could see the faintest eyeroll as she turned to walk away. “Nice to meet you, Abby.”

And she strutted away. Abby chuckled, pulling you back around to see him. “Don’t tell me you were jealous?”

You only shrugged. “‘Jealous’ implies she has something that I don’t. It’s the other way around, really; I prefer the term ‘territorial’?”

“Sure, that’s better,” he began pulling you along again, not letting go of your hand. “I wonder how many rumors just started.”

“Plenty, hopefully. I need them to know they can’t be on you like they used to.”

Mystery—

Honestly, Mystery was itching for an opportunity to not hide you.

Because no matter what it was, Mystery did not care about people’s opinions. Not when it came to his behavior, his nature, not even you. The only reason you were hiding it in the first place was because you didn’t want to be outed too soon.

Now, here you were, in public, holding hands. It was obviously Mystery—his hair is periwinkle? Lavender? And he just has a certain style about him that can’t be robbed. Anyway, it’s clear he’s with someone, and some girl came up anyway.

No biggie. They usually just asked for a photo and / or an autograph, or something. 

Not this one.

She immediately reached for Mystery’s face, going to brush his hair out of his face. You couldn’t even help it. Before you knew it, your hand had shot out to grab her wrist. “Huh?”

Seeing his face was your thing. You intended on keeping it that way.

“I know I didn’t just see you reach for his face, girl,” you sighed, the disappointment evident in your voice. It was clear she literally hadn’t noticed you, her gaze trailing up and down your form. Landing on your entwined hands. It was then that realization struck her.

“Please,” she murmured, “please, no.”

You had to swallow a surprised noise, not expecting the reaction. You dropped her wrist. “I’m . . . sorry for your loss??”

You gently pulled Mystery away, glancing back as the girl let out a choked cry. Damn. That’s tough.

She dropped to her knees on the middle of the sidewalk.

“Yikes . . .” you winced, feeling the slightest sympathy. It was that bad that she fell to the ground?? “That's kind of crazy.”

Mystery only followed, glancing back at the girl. “. . . Does this mean I don’t have to hide you anymore??”

“Is that all you took from that?”

“Well, you didn’t deny the accusation.”

You let him have his antics; he didn’t have to look at you to know you found him amusing. Still, he pulled you closer.

Romance—

One moment. You left for one moment to go to the bathroom, and now some girl was giving him goo-goo eyes. The funny thing? She was leaving the bathroom when you entered it. You smiled at each other.

Traitor.

At first, you just observed. You know, nine times out of ten it’s just a fan, and fans could be crazy, but he was used to handling that. You let her have her five seconds with him.

The illusion that they have a chance, etcetera. It was part of his brand, being ‘Romance’ and all.

But you didn’t like the way she was looking at him.

There was just something about the way she smiled, the way you noticed her eyes flicking over his face, the way she played with her hair, her little giggle that gave you the urge to check her. 

Romance’s eyes widened when he felt lips brush his cheek, a nice, sticky mark the shape of your mouth lingering on the skin there. You laughed, wrapping your arm around him.

“Hi! You’ve been busy,” you smiled at the girl, only getting more smug as her jaw dropped. Romance immediately caught on to your behavior and shook his head. You were jealous? How amusing.

“Yes, we were just talking about our last show,” he explained, his hand sneaking around your waist. Well, if you weren’t going to have any shame . . . “She caught some of the merch that was thrown by barricade.”

“Oh, maybe we saw each other,” you beamed. The woman only blinked.

“Um . . . yeah,” she nodded, in utter disbelief of the scenario she’d found herself in. She stared for a moment unsure of how to continue. “Right, it was nice to meet you, Romance.”

And with that, she had turned to leave.

“Wait, you don’t want a picture—?” He called out after her, but she wasn’t listening. Instead, she whipped out her phone, typing furiously at the digital keyboard to who knows what on whatever platform.

Romance let out a huff of a laugh, looking down at you through the corner of his eyes. “I never thought you could be catty.”

“Catty? I have no idea what you’re referring to,” you feigned innocence, continuing on your walk together with a satisfied pep in your step. Mission accomplished.

“You know all the fans are going to be after you, right?”

“I can afford to pay the piper this time.”

Baby—

You were out with Baby. Doing what? Getting food of course!

. . .

You don’t just sit and eat food all the time, you swear. But when people are hungry, they’re hungry. And why not enjoy something you need to live, right? So the pair of you were out and about, scouting for something to eat (hey that rhymed a little).

“We should get something . . . spicy,” Baby contemplated, his finger tapping against his chin. You gave him a concerned look. 

“All you do is eat spicy stuff. The bad kind. You’re going to burn a hole in your stomach lining or something.”

“That’s the goal.”

You flicked his shoulder, and Baby only snickered. The both of you approached a little street food section of the street, your mouth watering just slightly as your eyes locked on a specific stall, and you immediately started beelining towards it.

“Are you kidding? That’s not spicy at all!”

“I want to be able to taste my food, Baby,” you laughed, turning to face him for just a second. Just so he could see your grin, just so he could roll his eyes and smile back. “You go get what you want, and I’ll meet you back here at . . . that table,” you pointed.

He shrugged, drifting off to go find some food.

Fifteen minutes later, you were waiting impatiently at the table. Was fifteen minutes a long or short time? It depends on the food, but you’d think that because of the area it’d be quick. You wanted to eat before it got cold, and you needed to take a picture of your combined spread.

You know, like you always did.

It wasn’t long before you saw your boyfriend walking towards the aforementioned table, looking vaguely annoyed with that trained Saja expression on his face. Just as you were wondering what could have pissed him off, you noticed the girl in tow.

She was a pretty girl, and she seemed way too happy. You could tell it was a fan—the lovesick kind.

Great. You just wanted to eat.

Baby didn’t even bother to set his food down, knowing you were probably going to have to go after being spotted, anyway. The fan was practically radiating sunshines and flowers in his presence. You shot him a questioning look, and his only response was to give you that practiced, cutesy maknae smile.

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. The fan finally noticed you.

“Excuse me,” you said to the girl, trying to be as nice as possible despite your own slight exasperation. “Do you mind if you leave us alone? We’re just trying to eat.”

Baby couldn’t exactly say that—not in the way he wanted to. So you had to do it for him. In about five seconds, you watched several expressions cross over her face; surprise, shock, realization??

Of course, as all fans do, she made assumptions. And in this case, her assumptions were correct. Even so, your request didn’t have the desired effect. Instead, the girl looked you up and down, then between you and Baby . . .

And blushed??

“Um, sorry,” she looked away, her gaze occasionally flickering back to you. Not Baby. You. “I just wanted a picture—”

“Did you want me to take it for you?” You offered, raising a brow. Usually the interaction would be over faster that way. She shook her head fervently, pulling out her phone to snap it selfie style.

“Could you come, too?”

You looked at Baby, Baby looked at you. The same perplexed look on your face. The fan backtracked. “Okay, not to be creepy or anything—! Can I just . . . you’re pretty, okay.”

The woman flustered a little more as you let out a little laugh, standing on her other side so she could take a picture. Her face was clearly a bit red, but she took the picture anyway and then shot off in some direction. “Bye, enjoy your food!”

Of all things, you . . . weren’t expecting that.

“. . . I guess you have your own fan,” Baby teased.

»                                                      ⊱◈⊰

A/N: Honestly?? I was struggling with this a few days ago, but it didn't come out so bad! I hope you enjoyed 💋 anon, and I hope to see you soon <33 Sorry again that it took so long!

—Captain Morii 🌤️

Morii's Business Class: @abby-himbo-truther @kpopmultistans @momentomoribitch @queensnowlake-wof

[lifeisbutadream444]

Playing Games

Aaron Pierre x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: A passionate yet complicated friends-with-benefits arrangement unravels as you finally confront Aaron about his inability to commit.

Warnings: 18+, smut, edging, overstimulation, p in v, bdsm themes

A/N: First thing I've ever posted, mostly porn with a crumb of plot.

The hotel suite is dimly lit, city lights flickering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Aaron lies beside you, bare-chested, arm draped lazily across his forehead, his breathing steady but not quite asleep.

"You good?" His voice is rough, sleep-laced, breaking the silence.

You hesitate. "Yeah."

He turns his head, studying you. "Liar."

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for what you're about to say. " I don't think we should do this anymore."

Aaron's brow furrows slightly at your words, his striking eyes searching your face. He props himself up on one elbow, the sheet slipping dangerously low on his hips.

"Hey now, what's all this about?" His deep voice is soft, almost concerned, but there's an undercurrent of tension. 

"Talk to me, sweetheart." He reaches out, fingers brushing along your arm, touch feather-light. It's a gesture meant to soothe, but you sense the calculation behind it. Aaron is always aware, always assessing.

"I thought we had something good going here. No strings, no bullshit." A slow smirk curves his full lips. "Or am I mistaken?"

You sigh. "I need to focus on finding someone to build an actual future with Aaron. We’ve been doing this for a long time. I obviously love fucking you, but watching you constantly flirt with other women at every event, seeing them leave your house at 3:00 am on TMZ, it gets old after a while."

Aaron's hand stills on your arm, his expression shifting - surprise, then a flash of something harder to read. He sits up fully, running a hand over his face. "Shit..." He sighs, the sound heavy in the quiet room. "I didn't realize it was bothering you that much. I've always been honest about everything."

His gaze finds yours, intense and searching. "But I get it. You're looking for more than just a good time these days."

He reaches for you, cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin. "I care about you, you know. More than just as a friend with benefits or whatever we are. But I'm not sure I'm built for that whole 'forever' thing yet."

"I understand Aaron, I really do." You sit up too, pulling the sheet around yourself like armor. Your heart aches but you force yourself to hold his gaze steadily.

"I want to respect your boundaries and your current lifestyle. But I also need to respect my own needs and desires. And right now, those are leading me in a different direction."

Aaron's jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he listens to your words. When you finish speaking, he's silent for a long moment, his eyes never leaving yours. Then, slowly, he shakes his head.

He looms over you, naked and powerful, muscles coiled with tension. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, touch almost tender despite the intensity smoldering in his eyes. "We can’t end things like this. Let me show you how good we can be together, outside the bedroom too."

You pull back slightly, meeting his intense gaze steadily, your own eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Aaron, please... don't make this harder than it already is.” Your voice wavers slightly but you push on. "I appreciate everything you're saying, I do. But I can't keep settling for less than what I truly want and need."

I place my hand over his on my hip, squeezing gently. "We have an incredible physical connection, yes. But I need more. Someone who chooses me completely and exclusively."

A single tear escapes, trailing down your cheek as you continue. "As much as it hurts, I have to accept that person isn't you. We’ve been doing this for long enough for you to know if I’m worth that commitment. In your eyes, I’m obviously not considering you’re still fucking other women every week."

Aaron's eyes blaze with a storm of emotions - fear, anger, desperation, and beneath it all, a flicker of something deeper, more vulnerable. As the tear traces down your cheek, his expression crumples.

"Fuck, baby, don't cry," he rasps, voice thick with feeling. His hands move to cup your face, thumbs brushing away the moisture. "You are worth it. You're worth everything." He takes a shuddering breath, clearly struggling with his next words. 

"I know I haven't shown it well, but fuck, you mean more to me than anyone else. Than all the other women combined." Aaron's forehead comes to rest against yours. "I'm scared, okay? Scared of fucking this up, of losing you completely."

You sigh, "I think that if you were really scared of losing me we would’ve progressed into something more by now. Surely you didn't think I was just gonna be your fuck buddy forever, right?"

Aaron pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that steals your breath. "You're right. I should have done something sooner." He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing. 

"But I'm done being afraid. Done letting my own bullshit fears push away the person who matters most. Losing you is a lot scarier." One hand moves to cup your cheek, thumb stroking softly as he continues.

"Baby, I... I love you. Have for a while now. And I know I don't deserve you, but I'm asking anyway - give me a chance to be the man you need."

You stare at him in shock, hardly daring to breathe. Those three little words hang in the air between you, heavy with promise and possibility.

"You... you love me?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, trembling with a fragile hope. "Really?"

Tears well up again, but this time they're tinged with joy rather than sorrow.

"I love you too, Aaron. So much it scares me sometimes. But I know you too well. You love women. You love attention. I feel like you’re only saying this as a last resort because you think it’s what I want to hear.”

You reluctantly make a move to get up from his bed. Aaron's eyes widen in panic as he notices your intention to leave, his grip on your shoulders tightening. 

"No, wait!" Desperation colors his deep voice. He shifts, using his body weight to gently but firmly press you back onto the mattress. His gaze bores into yours, eyes blazing with sincerity and barely restrained emotion. 

"I'm saying this because it's true, because I can't bear the thought of you walking out that door and out of my life." One hand moves to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he holds you close. 

"I know I have a reputation, and I can't change my past. But I want to change my future. With you."

Aaron's heart clenches painfully as he sees the tears streaming down your face, hears the hitch in your breath as you try to pull away. He knows he's caused this pain, this doubt, and the realization guts him.

"Shh, baby, please don't cry," he murmurs, voice raw with emotion. Gently but insistently, he keeps you in place, one strong arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand cups your face, thumbs wiping away the tears.

"I know I have to prove myself to you. And I will, every fucking day if that's what it takes." His eyes search yours, pleading and determined. 

"Give me a chance to show you how serious I am. Stay with me tonight, talk to me in the morning. I'll do whatever it takes to earn your trust, your heart."

"It's just too late Aaron,” you reply through your tears. “It kills me, but I have to go."

Aaron's expression darkens, a flash of possessiveness and desperation in his eyes as he tightens his arms around you, holding you in place on the bed. 

"No, you don't have to go anywhere," he says, his voice low and insistent. “Not like this, not when we're finally being honest with each other. I know I've fucked up, that I've made mistakes. But I'm trying to make this right, baby." His eyes bore into yours, blue-grey irises swirling with emotion. "Don’t leave, please."

Inside, your heart pounds—he’s finally refusing to let you go. But you keep up the act, teasing the edge of goodbye, waiting to see if he’ll chase you, if he’ll prove just how much he cares.

"I'll do whatever it takes to keep you here, to show you that you're the only woman I want, the only one I need." His lips graze your pulse point. "Tell me you'll stay."

You whimper softly, your body betraying you as it melts into his touch despite my resolve to leave. The heat of his skin, the strength of his embrace, the desperate need in his voice - it's all so overwhelmingly tempting.

"A-Aaron..." you breathe, voice shaky. "I want to believe you, I do. But I'm scared that this is just an empty promise, that you'll go back to your old ways as soon as I give in. How do I know this is real? That you're not just saying these things to get me to stay the night?" Even as you speak, your hands come up to rest on his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat.

"It's real, baby. Every word, every feeling. I may not have said it before, but I've loved you for so long." His hand in your hair gentles, fingers combing through the strands almost reverently. 

"I know I have a lot to prove, that actions will always speak louder than words. But I'm ready to put in the work, to be the man you deserve." He pulls back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze head-on.

You wipe tears from your face. "Please let me go, Aaron."

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he slowly releases his grip on you. His hands fall away from your body as he sits back on his heels, giving you space even as his eyes remain fixed on your face, drinking in every detail as if committing it to memory.

"If that's truly what you want, then... I won't stop you," he says quietly, voice rough with emotion. "But please know that I meant every word I said. I love you, and I'm going to prove it to you, whether you're here with me or not."

You tell yourself you have to leave. That if you don’t walk away now, he’ll never take you seriously, never realize what he stands to lose. You want him to fight for you, to prove that this is more than just convenience, more than just a game he always wins.

As you start gathering your things to leave, Aaron leaps up from the bed, his tall, muscular form blocking your path.

"Baby, wait!" he's in front of you, one hand coming up to grasp your wrist gently but imploringly. He pulls you a step closer, using his free hand to cup your cheek, thumb brushing away the remnants of your tears.

Aaron captures your lips in a searing kiss, pouring all his pent-up passion and desperation into the heated caress. His tongue delves into your mouth, claiming you, tasting you, as his strong arms wrap around your waist to lift you effortlessly as you wrap your legs around his waist instinctually. In a few swift strides, he carries you back to the bed, laying you down on the rumpled sheets once again.

He looms over you, eyes dark with lust and determination. "I'm gonna remind you exactly why you belong with me." His hands make quick work of the clothes you managed to put back on, tossing them aside carelessly as he exposes your skin to his hungry gaze. Calloused fingertips trace the curves of your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

He settles between your thighs, pushing them apart to grant himself unrestricted access to your most intimate area. He inhales deeply, savoring your intoxicating scent before diving in, his skilled tongue delving between your folds to lap at your essence.

"Mmm," he moans against your flesh, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. He focuses his attention on your sensitive clit, circling and flicking the bundle of nerves with practiced precision.

As your moans fill the room, he reaches for the vibrator you kept in his nightstand, turning it on to a low hum. "Let's see how many times I can make you come," he purrs wickedly, dragging the toy along your slit teasingly before pressing it firmly against your aching clit.

Aaron works you relentlessly with his mouth and the vibrator, bringing you to the brink of ecstasy. Just as you teeter on the cusp of climax, he pulls back, denying you that final push.

"Not yet, baby," he murmurs, voice husky with desire. "You don't get to come until you say you’re mine. Until you promise to give us a real chance."

He kisses his way up your body, pausing to lavish attention on your breasts, suckling and teasing your nipples until you're writhing beneath him. His hard length throbs against your thigh, a testament to his own arousal, but he ignores it in favor of focusing solely on your pleasure... and your compliance.

"I can do this all night, sweetheart," he warns playfully, nipping at your earlobe.

You’re trembling, your body wound tighter than a bowstring, desperate for release. You look up at Aaron, his handsome face blurry through the haze of lust.

"P-please, Aaron," I whimper brokenly, hips bucking futilely against the cool air. "I can't... I need... Fuck!"

He grins wickedly, clearly reveling in the power he holds over you. "What was that, baby? I didn't quite catch what you said." He circles your clit with the vibrator again, applying just enough pressure to keep you teetering on the knife's edge of orgasm.

Aaron drinks in the sight of you, sprawled out beneath him, trembling and desperate, your face a beautiful portrait of need. He feels a surge of masculine pride, mixed with genuine tenderness, at the effect he has on you.

"That's it, sweetheart," he croons, voice a low, seductive rumble. "Just say the words. Tell me you'll stay, that you're mine, and I'll give you everything you crave."

He increases the pressure of the vibrator, holding it steady against your throbbing clit as his free hand slides down to tease your entrance. His eyes bore into yours, dark with lust and challenge. "I can feel how badly you need this, how much you need me. Don't fight it anymore, baby. I’m done arguing with you.”

Aaron’s frustration mounts as you continue to resist despite your obvious desperation.

"You're so stubborn, baby girl," he growls, equal parts exasperated and aroused. "But I'm more determined than you are. I'll keep you right on this edge until you surrender to me completely."

To emphasize his point, he sucks hard on your clit, "Last chance, sweetheart," he pants against your flesh, eyes glinting with challenge and dark promise.

"Or what?" you challenge. Your body is on fire, but you’re not giving him what he wants so quickly.

Aaron's eyes flash dangerously at your defiant question, a predatory grin spreading across his face. He pulls away and flips you onto your stomach with ease.

"Oh, baby girl," he purrs darkly, "If you keep testing me like this, I might just have to punish that sweet little ass of yours."

One large hand slides down to grope your rear roughly, kneading the supple flesh. The other tangles in your hair, tugging your head back to expose the column of your throat. He nips and sucks at the sensitive skin, determined to mark you as his.

You gasp and moan as he manhandles you, your body responding eagerly to his dominant touch despite your lingering resistance. The threat of punishment sends a forbidden thrill racing down your spine, even as a part of me rebels against being so thoroughly conquered.

"P-punish me?" You manage to stammer out between shaky breaths, trying to inject bravado into your voice that you don't quite feel. 

"What exactly did you have in mind, big boy?" You arch your back slightly, pressing your ass more firmly into his groping hand, torn between the desire to submit and the need to maintain some semblance of control. Your inner walls flutter weakly, still aching for the fulfillment only he can provide.

"Mmm, such a naughty girl, taunting me like this," he murmurs approvingly. "I think I'll start by turning this pretty pink ass a nice, deep red. Maybe that will get your attention..."

To punctuate his words, he delivers a firm spank to your right cheek, the sting quickly melting into warmth. His palm rubs the abused skin soothingly before repeating the action on the left side. "And if that doesn't convince you to behave..."

Aaron leans in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers, "Then I might have to tie you up, spread you wide open, and keep teasing this needy little body of yours for hours. Keep you right on the razor's edge, until you're ready to agree to anything just to cum."

His hand snakes around to your front, fingers dipping teasingly through your slick folds. "Would you like that, baby girl? Being completely at my mercy, helpless to do anything but feel?"

You shudder and moan, your body following your true desires even as your mind struggles to hold onto its reservations. The spanks send jolts of painful pleasure radiating through you, stoking the flames of your arousal.

"Ahh...f-fuck, Aaron..." you pant, your voice thick with need. "You can't...can't just...ah!" Another spank cuts off your weak protests, the sensation making your toes curl. The image he paints - of being tied up, spread out, and teased mercilessly - sends a bolt of liquid heat straight to your core. "Yes I want that." you finally admit.

Aaron smiles triumphantly as he hears the breathy admission fall from your lips, your body's reactions telling him everything he needs to know.

"That's my good girl," he praises huskily, rubbing your ass. "Admitting what you really want. And we both know what that is, don't we, sweetheart?"

True to his word, Aaron flips you on your back again and secures your wrists above your head with soft ropes, the silky material a delicious contrast to your sensitized skin. He takes a moment to admire the view - you, splayed out and vulnerable, flushed with arousal and anticipation. His eyes rake over your body hungrily, drinking in every dip and curve.

Aaron starts with feather-light touches, tracing the delicate folds of your labia with the tip of his tongue. He laves at your slit before zeroing in on your aching clit. A single, purposeful flick of his tongue against the overstimulated bud has you keening, your back arching off the bed.

"Mmm, so sensitive," he murmurs appreciatively, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. "I could make you cum just like this, couldn't I? With barely any effort at all."

To prove his point, he seals his lips around your clit and suckles gently, alternating with quick, pointed flicks of his tongue. Two fingers plunge deep into your weeping channel, curling to stroke that special spot inside you.

He varies his technique, switching between broad licks and targeted flicks, alternating suction and pressure on your clit. His fingers pump steadily, twisting and curling, finding new angles to stimulate your innermost depths.

Your thighs tremble and quake around his head as he feasts on you, the obscene sounds of your arousal filling the room. He can feel you tightening around his invading digits, your body coiled like a spring ready to snap.

Just as you teeter on the very edge again, he pulls back, denying you that final push. "Not yet, baby," he admonishes playfully, blowing cool air over your drenched folds. "You haven't agreed yet."

You writhe and moan, tears of frustration leaking from the corners of your eyes. Your body is wound so tightly, every nerve ending screaming for release, but he denies you again and again.

"Please, Aaron!" you beg, voice raw with need. "I can't.... Ahhh!" Your words dissolve into incoherent cries as he suckles particularly hard on your clit, the pleasure bordering on pain. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!" You tug desperately at your bonds, craving something, anything to ground yourself. But there's no escape from the exquisite torture he's inflicting.

Aaron notices your continued resistance, even as your body screams for release. A wicked gleam enters his eye as an idea takes shape. He reaches into the drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a sleek black anal plug and a small, soft-bristled brush.

"Let's see how long this stubborn streak of yours lasts, baby girl," he purrs, voice dripping with dark promise. Without warning, he presses the tapered tip of the small plug against your tightly furled rosebud, applying gentle but insistent pressure.

The cool metal contrasts deliciously with the scorching heat of your skin as he slowly works the toy deeper, pausing to let you adjust. Once seated fully, he gives a subtle wiggle, sending sparks of new sensation radiating through your core.

You gasp as the foreign object invades your ass, the stretch and fullness sending shockwaves of sensation through her body. You feel impossibly empty and aching, yet stuffed so deliciously full at the same time. The anal plug shifts with every movement, keeping you hyperaware and on edge.

"Aaahh! Aaron!" you cry out, back arching off the bed as he wiggles the toy teasingly. Tears of overwhelming stimulation prick at the corners of her eyes. "It's too much, I can't-" But your protests are cut short as he dives back between your thighs, that wicked tongue of his lashing at your swollen, throbbing clit again. The addition of the anal plug seems to heighten every touch exponentially.

He picks up the small, soft-bristled brush, the fluffy head barely an inch wide. Teasingly, he runs the delicate bristles along your slit, catching on your engorged clit with each pass. The light, tickling sensation is maddening, keeping you poised on the knife's edge of orgasm without allowing you to topple over.

Every brush of the soft bristles against your aching clit sends lightning bolts of pleasure zinging up your spine. Combined with the constant pressure and stretch of the anal plug, you feel like you might shatter into a million pieces at any moment.

"P-please, Aaron," you whimper brokenly, voice hoarse from crying out. "I can't... I need... Fuck, I need to cum!" Tears stream freely down your face now, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations consuming her.

"Shhh, I know, sweetheart," he croons, voice low and soothing despite the wicked glint in his eyes. "I can see how much you need it. How close you are. But you know what you have to do to earn that release."

He leans in, hot breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "Tell me you're mine, baby. Give yourself to me completely, and I'll let you cum harder than you ever have before. Keep fighting it, and I'll leave you like this all night."

Aaron watches your anguished pleas with a mixture of dark satisfaction and growing impatience, shocked that you haven’t used your safe word yet. He can see the war raging within you - the desperate need for completion battling against your stubborn refusal to surrender completely. It's a delicious sight, but he's tired of these games.

"Enough," he says sharply, voice brooking no argument. In one swift motion, he flips you onto your stomach, the sudden change in position making the plug shift inside you deliciously. He drapes himself over your back, one large hand splaying across your shoulder blades to pin you down. His other hand snakes around to your front, fingers delving between your legs to circle your clit with ruthless precision.

"Listen closely, baby," he growls in your ear, hips grinding against your ass. "This is your last chance."

Your body suddenly seizes with the force of a life changing orgasm, Aaron curses under his breath, equal parts frustrated and impressed by your lack of control. He doesn't let up his ministrations, fingers continuing their merciless assault on your clit as you thrash beneath him, lost to the waves of pleasure crashing over you.

"Didn't I tell you not to cum without permission?" he growls, voice thick with disapproval even as he grinds against your spasming body, prolonging your peak.

"Such a naughty girl, disobeying me like that." Despite his stern words, there's a note of dark satisfaction in his tone. Your loss of control is a testament to how thoroughly he's unraveled you, brought you to the brink of madness with desire.

Your body trembles and jerks as the aftershocks of her climax roll through you, leaving you boneless and spent. You've never felt so utterly owned, so completely at someone else's mercy.

"I'm sorry," you whimper. "I couldn't help it." Even in the aftermath of your orgasm, your body aches for more, craving his touch like a drug. The anal plug shifts inside you with every shuddering breath, keeping you acutely aware of your own arousal. You've never felt so desperate, so willing to submit to another person's every whim.

Aaron's expression softens slightly at the genuine remorse in your voice, though the hunger in his eyes remains undiminished. He gentles his touch, fingers slowing their frenzied pace to languid circles around your still-throbbing clit.

"Shh, it's alright, baby," he murmurs, voice a low, soothing rumble. "I know it was too much to resist. You did so well holding on for as long as you did." He flips you over again and captures your lips in a deep, claiming kiss, swallowing your whimpers and moans.

Aaron's eyes flash with sadistic glee as he reaches for the vibrator again, a wicked smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He knows exactly how to push you to your limits, to make you scream and beg and plead for mercy. And he intends to do just that.

"Since you seem to enjoy cumming without permission so much," he purrs, turning the toy to its highest setting, "I think it's time for round two of your punishment."

Without further preamble, he presses the buzzing head directly against your throbbing clit, holding it steady despite your bucking hips. The intense vibrations send shockwaves of pleasure-pain ricocheting through your oversensitized body, forcing a strangled moan from your throat.

Aaron watches as you writhe and convulse beneath the relentless assault of the vibrator, your body no longer your own. He can feel the tension building in your core, the way your walls flutter and clench around nothing, desperate for something to fill them.

"That's it, baby," he coaxes, voice a low, seductive rumble. "Cum for me again. Show me how much you love being punished, how much you need my touch."

“I can’t, Aaron!” your scream. Aaron ignores your anguished pleas, keeping the vibrator pressed firmly against your abused clit. He revels in the sight of you, so beautifully broken, tears and sweat mingling on your flushed skin as you fall apart in his arms once again.

"Shh, just breathe through it, baby," he croons, voice deceptively gentle even as he continues the torturous stimulation. "You're doing so well, taking your punishment like a good girl."

Even after another orgasm, he doesn’t relent, keeping the vibrator on your swollen clit no matter how hard you buck your hips to avoid it.

His free hand strokes down your trembling thigh, almost tenderly, a stark contrast to the brutal pleasure he's inflicting. Suddenly, he stops the vibrator.

"Ready for more, sweetheart?" he purrs dangerously, eyes glinting with cruel amusement.

“No, I can’t take anymore, please.” you reply, your voice raspy from screaming.

Aaron hilts himself inside you with one powerful thrust, groaning at the exquisite tightness enveloping him. He sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against yours as he pounds into your sensitive flesh. Each drag of his cock against your inner walls sends sparks of pleasure-pain shooting up your spine.

"Is this what you wanted, baby?" he growls, leaning down to nip at your earlobe." To have daddy's fat dick all to yourself? To be the only one I fuck, the only one I give attention to?"

One hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back to expose the column of your throat. He latches onto the delicate skin, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, to brand you as his. The other hand grips your hip bruisingly tight, holding you in place as he rails into you.

You whimper and moan, overwhelmed by the intense sensations "Y-yes, yes, I want you all to myself!" your nails dig into his back, clinging to him desperately as he claims you thoroughly, chasing his own release.

"Okay baby," he whispers, punctuating his words with sharp thrusts. "I'm all yours. Only yours, okay?" He grinds against your cervix with each snap of his hips, determined to stake his claim on your very soul. His teeth graze the shell of your ear as he pants harshly.

"I’m serious Aaron... I can't take anymore!" Your hands fist in the sheets, knuckles white with the force of her grip. The anal plug shifts with each movement, adding to the cacophony of sensations assaulting your nerves.

"That's it, baby," he encourages darkly as he pounds into you relentlessly. "Let me hear those pretty cries."

"Please," you rasp, voice little more than a broken whisper. "Please, Aaron. I... I won't leave you. I'm yours, okay?" The words fall from your lips like a prayer, a desperate supplication.

In that moment, you know you'd agree to anything, give him anything, if only he'd put an end to this sweet torture. Your pride, your stubbornness, all the walls you've built around her heart - they crumble to dust in the face of her all-consuming desire.

Aaron slows his thrusts, grinding deep inside you as he gazes down at your face intently. His eyes bore into yours, dark with possession and barely restrained lust.

"If you want to come one last time," he says, voice a low, dangerous purr, "Tell me you'll never even think about leaving me again. Tell me you love me." He rolls his hips deliberately, stirring up your insides.

Shaking, you say, "I-I love you, Aaron. God, I love you so much. I'll never leave you, never threaten to go. Please, make me come!"

"Those are the magic words, baby," he growls in satisfaction, eyes flashing with triumph and dark desire. "Come for me then. Now." With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, grinding against your cervix as his fingers attack your clit.

He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your screams of ecstasy as your final orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. He follows you over the edge seconds later, flooding your spasming pussy with his hot seed, marking you as his inside and out.

Collapsing against the sheets, utterly spent and satisfied, "Wow, I think that was your best work yet. I need time to recover." you say, panting between words.

He chuckles lowly, nuzzling into your neck as he pulls you close, still buried deep inside you. "Mmm, I aim to please, sweetheart.”

He presses soft kisses along your jaw, your cheek, finally capturing your lips in a tender, loving kiss unlike any before. He unties your hands gently.

When he pulls back, his eyes are warm with genuine affection. "I meant what I said, you know. About not seeing other women anymore. I can't believe you thought I was just gonna let you walk away."

Aaron’s forehead rests against yours, his breath unsteady, his grip unrelenting—like if he lets go, you’ll disappear. His hands tremble slightly where they hold you, his fingers pressing into your skin as if to memorize the shape of you.

He leans in, his voice a hushed whisper against your lips. “Go to sleep, baby.”

And just like that, the fight is over.

Because you were never going anywhere.

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 9

in which we find out how the morning after went for fem!reader. you finally share with spencer after unanticipated anxieties come up. you're continually shocked by his affection for you.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ (angst, fluff) warnings/tags: (preface none of the bad stuff is done by spencer) sexual harassment, slut shaming, non consensual voyeurism of sorts, blood + pain from losing virginity, talk of rape (nothing like that actually happens), implied nonspecific age gap (someone says he looks slightly older than you) non sexual nudity, showering together, intimacy, ewww being in love is embarrassing a/n: I honestly was not gonna post this today but I decided to bc it's just Tumblr its not that deep also you can probably tell I am just creating problems bc I don't wanna let go of them...... ik this is supposed to be a smutty series btw and trust good things come to those who wait!!!but anyways idk what I'm doing and I kinda hate this!! lolol!!!

Friday morning

The air is thick when you wake up—the angle of the sun through the window is lower than usual, and the binding weight of your limbs as you struggle to stretch in place all suggest that you’ve slept in. 

But you don’t check the time quite yet—for a moment, you simply lie there, studying the pattern on your ceiling, downloading the events of the previous night. 

Flashes of skin on skin, lips, breaths, whispers, promises. Phantom sensations. 

Was it even real?

Your apartment is deafeningly silent, you realize. And you have that sinking sense, which you can’t quite explain but know to be true—that you are alone. Spencer is gone. You can’t feel him like you’d be able to if he were simply on the couch or in the kitchen. He’s definitely not in bed with you, and the sheets have long gone cold. 

The truth of it renders about as slowly as your sluggish consciousness does, and you frown, not quite sure what to do with that information. Should you be angry? Should you cry?

Mostly you’re confused. 

As soon as you sit up, sore thighs and abs and a strange ache between your legs confirm that last night was not a dream nor a figment of your imagination. You’ll figure out what to do about your twinging body in a moment—for now you rub your eyes and blindly reach for the bedside table, knocking several things to the ground in your quest for your phone. 

It’s not there, you realize, once you actually try to use your eyes. It’s not in bed with you either as you pat the sheets, and it doesn’t materialize as you sit on your knees and shake out the comforter. 

From this venture, however, you learn two things. First, Spencer must’ve taken it upon himself to get you dressed last night, which you have no recollection of, but you doubt you sleepwalked your way into underwear and a big t-shirt; and second—you bled. 

It wasn’t something you were thinking about in the moment, but now, faced with all the evidence and none of the pleasure of last night’s activities, it’s jarring. A stark, unforgiving archipelago of red on a pristine sea of white. 

People say, at its best, sex brings couples closer. Spencer once told you it could facilitate feelings of deeper connection. But here you are, no longer a virgin, and what do you have to show for it? A stronger bond with your boyfriend? He’s not even here. 

All you have is this glaring red stain marring perfectly good sheets. It mocks you, like something you’ve dropped and can’t pick back up. You can’t think looking at it, and you need to think, and so in a fit of frustration you’re pulling the comforter onto the floor, leaning over your mattress and yanking the fitted sheet free. You ball it up in your hands, breathing heavily—and realize you bled through to the mattress. 

Wonderful. 

Spencer’s just at work, you tell yourself, grabbing the first pair of shorts you see and pulling them on before gathering the ruined sheet once more and stomping on aching legs through your apartment to the hallway, not even bothering with shoes. He can’t just play hooky because his clingy girlfriend lost her virginity and needs to be comforted like some previously celibate high school cheerleader.

But you miss him so much it’s making you angry, so much your eyes are stinging and welling with tears of frustration as you shove your bed linens down the trash chute at the end of your floor’s hallway. You’re supposed to be independent. That’s how you’ve always been. Since when does it bother you to wake up alone? It’s just sex. It’s not as big a deal for him as it is for you. Or for anyone. You’re the one overreacting, you’re the one who expects too much. He works for the FBI, for god’s sake. There are people dying, and here you are—

“What’chya got there?”

The gruff voice makes you jump, and you turn around just as the bundle is disappearing down into the hole in the wall. It’s your neighbor, Jerry—the one in the unit right next to you. You’re not happy to see him, especially like this. He’s got a blue 5 o’clock shadow despite the hour, and is clad in ill-fitting gray sweats and a pair of ratty slippers. His distended belly strains at the confines of an oil-stained white shirt, tied with a dingy checkered robe. You barely meet his drooping eyes before looking longingly back at your cracked door down the hall. 

“Just… garbage.” You shift your weight, hiding a wince as you try to find a comfortable position to stand in. Jerry notices this, and you wish his eyes wouldn’t linger on your bare legs like that. 

“Huh. Looks like someone had a late night.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s just noon and you’re still in your PJ’s.”

Disgusting. And who the fuck is he to judge? At least your pajamas are clean. 

You shrug. “Yeah.”

He scratches his bald head. 

“So that boy tired you out pretty good, huh?”

Your stomach drops. Your brain freezes. 

When you don’t reply, he takes the liberty of continuing on. 

“Saw him sneaking out of your apartment in the middle of the night. He looked a little older ’n you. You like ’em older?” His laugh is a cruel bark. “Yeah… He’s a lucky man. You know, it’s natural for a man to like a younger girl. Fresh meat, ’n all.” You try to speak and can only swallow a gag. Jerry adjusts his stance, hands in pockets like he’s telling you a local news story. “Heard some of it. Sounded like you were putting on quite the show. And sure, a young pretty thing like you? Hell, I would if I could. But I’ll tell you right now, you don’t wanna end up like my daughter. She wasn’t as pretty as you, but still—three kids with three men by the time she was 24. She should'a kept her damn legs closed. You know, she loved to cry rape, but you gotta ask yourself, if your legs are open all the damn time, what do you expect? Back in the day we all knew girls like that—” he bats the air dismissively. “Guess you can’t call ’em sluts anymore—they get what they’re asking for one way or another. See, I think everyone still knows it and they’re just too afraid to say it. So my advice: don’t let yourself get used up, you hear me? Not by men who are gonna ride you hard and put you away wet. So to speak. Men can smell a girl like that from a mile away, and they’ll take it as an open invitation. It’s just human nature.”

When he finally stops talking, the hallway fills with a vacuous silence. It makes your ears ring. Several moments pass, but you’re frozen. Your whole body feels intolerably hot but your blood is freezing. How are you supposed to react? 

“Hello?” He says, voice loud enough to hurt your ears as it echoes. 

Get out of here, your more rational self says to the rest of you, and you mumble something, you don’t even know what, excusing yourself to hurry on stiff legs back down the hall to your door. 

Once inside, you do up every lock on your door, and face your apartment, shoulders tensed practically to your ears and fists clenched so tight your arms are trembling. On autopilot you look around for something to do, but there’s nothing. More importantly, nobody.

I’ll call Spencer. He’ll know what to do. 

No, you won’t, your higher self reminds you. You lost your phone. And besides, it’s clearly not like he wanted to stick around last night. Maybe he doesn’t even like you anymore. 

So you’re stuck here. Stranded. Sharks can smell blood. 

Processing that information, you walk back to your bedroom and close the door behind you—before promptly sinking to the ground and burying your face in the duvet with a deep, silent sob.  

That goes on for a few minutes until you realize you’re too achy and you can’t breathe and you’re forced onto your side, curling up in your blanket on the floor like it’s a nest and not a burial plot. 

You shouldn’t get ahead of yourself. A relationship can’t implode twice in 24 hours.  You don’t have your phone. Maybe he’s texted you. 

But is that really all you’re worth? A text sent after the fact? He couldn’t sacrifice a few hours to sleep by your side? Couldn’t even wake you up to say goodbye? You think about the sweet things he’d said afterward—the way he held you, fingers dancing down your spine. Promises he made when you were half asleep in his arms, so sure he’d be there when you woke up. 

Even fucking Jerry the neighbor—who you think might have just sexually harassed you in the hallway—said Spencer should’ve stuck around. 

Fuck. 

No, don’t think about that. It doesn’t even matter. They were just words. 

Heard some of it. Sounded like you put on quite the show. 

Your skin crawls and your stomach turns as you hold yourself tighter. Something that was supposed to be private and special—and some random man not only had a front row seat to your deflowering but felt comfortable talking about it with you. It feels like a violation. Like he crashed a really important party. If you had known you had an audience last night, you never would’ve done it. 

The way he looked at you, tracing your legs with his eyes like he was touching you—

You scramble up from the floor and walk heavily on your knees to the dresser, digging up a pair of pajama pants and a hoodie. You should be showering, but you don’t want to deal with your body right now. You just want to hide. 

Friday evening—present

After your conversation, Spencer seems eager to make sure the car ride to his apartment is not reminiscent of the car ride to yours last night—he holds your hand, resting in your lap, bringing your knuckles to his lips at a red light. Every few moments he glances over at you, maybe to appreciate the view (though you doubt it’s especially scenic at the moment) or perhaps to gauge your mood. The further away you get from your apartment building the better you feel, and you try to focus on that. Sure—maybe you had a shit day, but Spencer’s here now, and he didn’t leave you after all. In fact, since finding your phone, you’ve seen the series of very sweet and highly concerned messages he sent over the course of a few hours. They almost make your stomach hurt. It would’ve been really nice to have those earlier. 

He doesn’t ask you any more of the hard questions, but you sense an inquisition in the works and getting closer with every curious glance he gives you. It’s like he’s unwrapping you, layer by layer, using his impressive cognitive faculties to drill through your skull into your brain and deeper still into your soul. 

Back in his apartment you sit awkwardly on the bed. Last time you’d been here, things hadn’t gone so well for you. 

The shower starts in the adjoined bathroom, and Spencer comes out a moment later, warm light seeping into the darkened bedroom. Purple and dark blue mixing with yellow, like a bruise. 

“Hey. Water’s warm.”

You hum, smoothing the material of his neatly made bed with your palm and watching the way it flattens. That had been your doing. You may have thought he was on the verge of breaking up with you last time you slept here, but you didn’t want to leave his home a mess. Didn’t want to leave any evidence of your having been here. 

A moment passes. You thumb at a thread and don’t look up. 

Spencer crosses the space without a word and crouches in front of you, hands coming up to cup the back of your legs, running knee to ankle and up again. 

“Can you tell me what’s going on? Please?” He asks softly. His voice wrings your heart out. Now that you’re in a completely different space, and you’re not so alone anymore, you’re struggling to sort out your feelings. It should be fine. You’re with Spencer. Presumably he still loves you. 

And you still feel terrible. 

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you whisper. 

“I know,” he says, just as quietly. 

Spencer doesn’t say anything else. I know you don’t want to—and yet. Your lips twist to the side. He’s persistent. Even in his kindness. It’s not the kind of care that falters or buckles when you try turning it away. 

“My neighbor said he c—” 

You’re forced to stop, frowning by how overcome you are. It shouldn’t be such a big deal. Worse things have happened to you. 

“He said he could hear us. Last night.”

Spencer’s hands stop on your legs. You can’t meet his eyes. You’re afraid whatever you find there won’t be the right thing. 

“He’s in the unit next to you?”

You nod. “We share a wall.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation and your stomach sinks. He doesn’t understand. 

“What did he say?”

“Just… dumb shit,” you scoff, fiercely wiping away a stray tear. “He said he listened and it sounded like I was putting on quite the show. And then he—and then he told me not to let you… use me up, whatever that means. He called me fresh meat, and said I shouldn’t let you ride me hard and put me away wet, and bad things happen to sluts who can’t keep their legs closed.”

You finish with a sharp inhale, briefly leaning down and covering your face with your hands when you realize how upset you really are. You want to hide it. 

A fraught moment passes. Spencer reaches for your hands, no doubt to try and pull them away from your face. You spare him the trouble, sitting up with a cavalier sniff before he can touch you and brushing your hair behind your ears.  

His voice is uncomfortably quiet. You can’t look at him. “Baby…”

“Don’t. It’s fine. I only told you because you asked.”

It’s not his fault, but you’re mad at him anyway, and so you avoid eye-contact like it’s the plague. Maybe it’s just safe to be mad at him. Maybe he knows that. 

Regardless, you’re not in the mood for coddling. It’s borderline repulsive—like trying to mix oil and water. Anything good slides right off of you because maybe you’re not designed to be able to absorb good things.

Nothing changes for a minute—and then he’s standing, offering you a moment alone as he goes to crank the shower off. 

As soon as he’s gone all the air is vacuumed from your lungs and you crumple, heaving it back in silently as your head spins and your heart races. It’s like your mind is split in two—half is primal, overwhelming panic, and the other a cold observatory eye, full of disdain and scorn for what it deems a severe overreaction to a few nasty comments made hours ago. You’re so tangled up as you curl in on yourself on your side that you can’t even cry. You’re just trying to remember how to breathe, ignoring the crawling feeling up your spine and the tingling heat at the back of your neck. The shower stops on the downbeat of your staggered breath, and then it’s silent. He’ll come back at any minute and see what a mess you’ve become. 

You’ve ruined everything. If only you could’ve kept it to yourself. 

When Spencer reappears in the doorway, and sees you collapsed and curling like paper burnt at the edges, he’s quick to return to you. 

“I’m sorry,” you manage, trying and failing to brush away hair from your cheek, which is wet—so you were crying—and Spencer shushes you, pushing it away for you as he kneels. 

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m being dramatic, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Of course, at the end of that declaration, a sob wrenches its way from the depths of you, so bright and cleaving you half expect the smell of ozone to follow. You follow it with a blisteringly self-deprecating laugh.

“Don’t—don’t do that. Don’t minimize it.”

His hand is warm where it rests over your cheek, affectionate, but he sounds frustrated. You frown and sniffle. 

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Tell me his name.” 

It’s a quiet request, made as gently as his hand cards through the hair at your temple like it’s woven with fragile threads of gold.

“No, Spencer,” you beg, anxiety pooling in your gut and rising in your throat, “please, I don’t want to make it a thing, I don’t want you to talk to him. You’ll just make it worse, it’s fine.”

You look at him imploringly, eyes wide and still welling, hoping to god the gravity of your plead will sink in. His are a bed of coals—somewhere between furious and sympathetic, and you try to appeal to the sympathy. 

“It is not fine. Saying sluts get what’s coming to them is not fine, that is a threat, and I’m not going to talk to him. I’m going to have him fucking arrested.”

You scoff. 

“For talking to me? Yeah, good luck with that. Cops are really known for being helpful when it comes to sexual harassment.”

“Baby. Men who are comfortable violating your boundaries like that are exponentially more likely to commit an actual violent crime. That is not a safe person for you to be around.”

“He’s not gonna rape me, Spencer! He’s just a gross old man! This is why I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew you’d make it a bigger deal than it is! You did it last night and you’re doing it now—you think everyone is out to get me!”

To his credit, he doesn’t so much as raise his voice. 

“Of course it’s a big deal. You’re upset.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my own fault.”

Maybe it’s the wrong thing to say. Spencer goes silent for a moment. 

“It’s your fault?”

“Yes. It’s my fault because… because now everyone knows that I’m…”

His voice goes impossibly soft again. “Knows that you’re what?”

“I mean, what did I expect?” You sniffle. “It’s an apartment. If I didn’t want to deal with the consequences, I shouldn’t’ve done it.”

He says your name like it’s a ring he twists around his finger as he tries to think—to gather the right words. 

“The consequences for having sex do not involve punishment or sexual harassment.”

“It’s the result of my actions, so—”

“No, it’s the result of your neighbor being disgusting. I don’t care what he heard, he doesn’t get to talk to you like that.”

“He—”

“If you heard something you weren’t supposed to hear would you bring it up to the person the next day?”

“Stop interrupting me,” you plead. Spencer looks like he has something to say to that, too, but he swallows it. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I… understand that he shouldn’t have said those things to me. But that doesn’t change the fact that he did, and it was really, really uncomfortable and I don’t wanna—I don’t wanna go back now. Maybe that’s dramatic, but…”

You trail off, studying the ceiling as a fresh wash of tears dampen your cheeks. Spencer’s hand slides down your waist as you wipe your face. “I don’t regret the fact that we slept together. I just regret everything that’s happened since, and if I didn’t do it last night, none of this would’ve happened. I feel like he ruined everything.”

The words end on another cry and you put your hand over your eyes like you could stop it all from coming out. You sniffle. Spencer is quiet for a moment. 

“I’m sorry,” he eventually whispers, his own voice threaded with emotion. “I…”

He sighs. You push your hair back and look at him. 

“What?”

He studies you, chewing on his lip like a nervous tick you’ve never seen before. You sit up again, feet balanced on the edge of the bed frame. Spencer’s eyes remain stuck on you. Again, you ask, “What?”

“I didn’t think about it until you brought it up earlier, but—I did see someone. Him, I think, when I went out to my car to get my bag. He was smoking when I came out, and when I got back into the lobby he was waiting for the elevator. We took it up together, he—he said something to me, so I know he saw me going back to you. I don’t know why he made it sound like I left.”

You frown. “What did he say?”

Spencer hesitates. 

“He asked if I had a long night. He was obviously commenting on the fact that I was basically half-dressed and getting an overnight bag from my car at one in the morning, so he could probably gather from context what was going on, but… my point is, he knew I came back and it seems like he was almost trying to make you think I didn’t. So for whatever reason, maybe he was lying about being able to hear you, too. Maybe he just wanted to make you uncomfortable.”

“That’s a long shot, Spencer.”

“I know, but… it’s not that long. He obviously gets off on it—and besides, he said you were putting on a show, but you weren’t… you weren’t loud, last night.”

Heats blossoms in your cheeks and you look down at your lap. “Thin walls.”

“Have you ever heard your neighbors before?”

You have to seriously think about it. 

“I’ve heard them yelling…”

“Nothing else?”

Again, you consider it. The answer comes as a surprise. 

“No.”

“Okay, so… does that maybe help a little bit? I really, really don’t want you to feel like last night was a mistake in any way, or let anyone ruin it for you.”

You breathe deeply. “I know. It… it kinda helps, yeah.”

His hands come to the top of your legs. There’s so much genuine care and concern in his eyes. “Yeah?”

Only when you nod does he relax some. His hands skim your thighs, and you set yours on top of his own. For a few breaths, it’s quiet. And then you laugh. 

“What?” Spencer asks, a tentative smile curling his own lips like he doesn’t know if he should be concerned or participate in your mirth. 

“I—I don’t know how to say it without being cheesy,” you admit, sniffling the last of your tears away and smiling softly down at him. 

“I think you should say it.”

You link your fingers with his on your lap, watching the way they twine like it’s what they were meant to do. 

“I was just thinking about how I had, like, the worst day ever. And how much worse it would’ve gotten if you didn’t show up when you did—I would’ve completely spiraled. But you did show up. And how easy it is to kind of compartmentalize, because I have you, and when I’m with you… nothing feels as hard. You make the bad things feel smaller, I guess.”

By the end, it got a lot more real than you’d intended, and your face feels warm, and your stomach is sort of floaty—but you don’t look away from Spencer. You hold his gaze, though it makes you a little nervous, because you want him to know you mean it. 

He inhales, like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t—only looks at you, like you’re beautiful and impossible and a defiance of everything he thought he knew, which was almost everything. To him, you’re expansive. A gorgeous anomaly.

And then he stands, holding his hands out for you. Without question you take them, and he pulls you to your feet, absorbing the momentum that threatens to topple you, and he wraps his arms around you tightly. So tight you have to laugh. 

“I love you,” he says against your shoulder, one hand coming to cradle the back of your head. 

Your humor softens, but doesn’t become inflexible—still tinges your words with the perfect amount of euphoria and relief. “I love you.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and your laughter flares again. 

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“But I’m grateful. I… I feel lucky.”

Always so earnest, so vulnerable, when you’re least expecting it—which should be always, you’re learning. You pull back to look up at him. You don’t want that concession to go unrewarded. 

“Me too,” you say softly. He’s doing that fond thing with his eyes, where they’re all soft and it’s like he’s trying to take in every millimeter of your face. This time when he goes to touch your hair, you have the wherewithal to dodge it. 

“You’re really brave for trying to touch my hair right now.”

“Why?” He asks, utterly bewildered, and the softness of the moment falls away easily, but not without leaving everything smudged and fuzzy around the edges. Everything is still okay. It’s still good. 

“Because it’s dirty,” you laugh, dodging him again and eventually ducking from the circle of his arms entirely. 

“Oh, your hair is dirty? Should we breakup?”

“Hm. I don’t really like when you take on that tone with me.” You’re still half-laughing, dipping and weaving past him toward the bathroom as he tries to get you in his arms again. And then you stop, toes just short of the tile. 

“What is it?” He asks after another moment. You blink, looking at the shower head as it drips. 

“Um—would it be okay if I had a five minute headstart in the shower?”

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine. I just… I need a minute.”

His hand skims your waist as he passes by you through the open door. “Okay. Why don’t you grab your stuff and I’ll get the water going again?”

Soon enough, you’re remembering how much better his water pressure is than yours as you stand under the torrent, eyes closed as if in prayer. You definitely could’ve stood to shower earlier in the day. But you had other concerns, earlier, and besides—you were afraid of what you might find. 

And you were right to be. The sex was nice. The aftermath isn’t quite as pretty. 

When Spencer taps on the bathroom door, you’re nervous. 

“You can come in,” you call. 

“You sure? If you want it all to yourself, that’s okay too.”

“No, no. It’s fine.”

The door creaks open, and gently clicks into place again, and fabric rustles as he undresses, and soon the shower curtain is sliding aside and he’s stepping in. Unsurprisingly, the space feels smaller with him in it—but not small in a bad way. It feels warmer. Again you’re awash in that safe feeling, which you didn’t realize you’d been missing so much today. 

“Hi,” he smiles, a teasing sliver of what you know to be the most brilliant light in the world, and stunning like the rest of him as you watch the water begin to darken his hair. 

“Hello.”

His smile flickers briefly wider like you’re his favorite thing and he just can’t contain his joy, and then it’s easing again, giving you a moment to catch your breath. 

“Is it okay if I touch you?”

In this alien context the idea has your heart pounding—you don’t really understand the concept of casual nudity yet, but you know he’ll respect your earlier wishes to keep it chaste and so you nod. 

Spencer doesn’t take you immediately in his arms like you’d expected—instead his hands find a rest at your collarbones and carefully push your wet hair back over your shoulders—but his eyes aren’t cast quite low enough to be indecent. They connect dots over your chest and neck, and he thumbs at one just over your pulse point. 

“Oh, man,” he laughs, and you think you detect a hint of self-deprecation. “That’s… wow, I didn’t realize I… sorry. They don’t hurt, do they?”

It’s your turn to smile as he’s suddenly over-concerned. 

“No, they don’t hurt.”

“Good.” He looks relieved, but it doesn’t last as his eyes trace lower—though you don’t sense any hunger in it. He’s just taking you in. “How about everywhere else?”

“Um… it’s not bad. Kind of, like… I don’t know. Sore. But it’s not bad.”

“Still?” He frowns, clearly unfazed by your evident embarrassment on the subject. You shrug and avert your eyes. 

“It’s fine. it was worse earlier, so.”

That does not have the calming effect you’d intended. 

“Worse? 1-10, how—”

“Spencer, it’s fine, I promise. It’s only when I—when I move certain ways, I notice. Honestly the… blood… was way more disconcerting to me.”

“Yeah, I saw your bed… sorry for ruining your sheets. I’ll buy you new ones.”

You shrug, watching the water run in rivulets down your arm and branch off into tributaries and waterfalls from your fingers. “You don’t have to do that. It was a collaborative effort.”

Normally this conversation would have you melting into an embarrassed puddle, but something about the tile cocoon of the shower, the humid fog, the proximity, feels safe. The white noise of water on porcelain, the warmth. You go to him at the same time as he comes to you—his arms around your waist, yours slung over his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. Falling asleep standing up has never seemed so plausible until now. 

He presses a kiss to your head. You sigh. 

“Ugh. I don’t want to deal with washing my hair.”

“I can do it,” Spencer immediately offers. You frown. 

“I was—you don’t have to. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was asking.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“It’s a process.”

“I understand.”

“You would have to do it exactly how I say.”

“I am willing to learn. I like taking care of you.”

You’re glad for the hot water, then, and as he washes your hair. You’re not sure if you’re crying at the tenderness of his touch, or the way he loves you like you’re easy to love. You’re too tired to explain it. 

He doesn’t push you, because he never pushes you. 

He just washes your hair. 

-

part ten

[palskippah]

Hi! Nimona told him to do a thumbs up (also I hope you get the reference image because I couldn't find it ajkdsad)

There's some mpreg headcanons and drawings under the cut! :D

By the way the limit of images is 30 so I had to make some longer images with comics to save space and put more drawings 😭

-Also, small continuation from the previous drawing:

(I wrote baby album but maybe it should be those albums that people keep of the pregnancy process ajskd)

-When Ballister first started showing, he was a bit insecure about it, but Ambrosius helped with that, in the romantic sense of worshipping and whatever, but also like this:

Translation (did my best to see how to translate it sorry sdjksd it works better in spanish)

1 Ballister: I think it's too soon to be getting fat- Ambrosius: You know what else is getting fat? 2 Ambrosius: Who said that

-Ballister goes through the denial of needing new clothes, so imagine him still wearing the stuff he usually wears and Nimona coming from behind and picking at the clothes by his shoulder and going in a high-pitched voice, as if the shirt was talking - I'm tired, boss while Ballister swats her away and say, leave me alone, it still fits me >:(

(it doesn't)

>Also Ballister absolutely refusing to wear maternity clothes, the only one he got he was like, wearing it and looking very unimpressed, and Ambrosius' like, you don't like it? :( and Ballister says, No. It's ugly as fuck >:(

>So, he just gets bigger shirts and stretch-ier pants and that's it. Also he gets an oversized hoodie and he says that's gonna be his best friend the rest of the pregnancy, and both Nimona and Ambrosius gasp offendedly at that.

So-

Ambrosius (turning to look at Nimona): What the- hey, I am his best friend. Nimona: Course not! You lost that privilege with what happened that one time (she means the movie events, more than five years ago) Ballister: Ambrosius' my best friend, Nimona. Ambrosius: HAH >:D Nimona: Aw :( Ballister: Because you're my sidekick :) Nimona: :D Ambrosius: Hey, what now- that sounds better than best friend :(

-Ballister during most of the pregnancy is like, woo baby :) but at the very last months he's at least half of the time pissed off, tired and done with being pregnant.

(my incredible math skills in the next point)

>70% of that time he's mad at Ambrosius (who made him pregnant), 20% mad at Nimona (who consciously (and sometimes unconsciously) gets on his nerves) and the remaining 10 he's pissed off at Baby (and he gets sad about that one, because he's just a baby, so he redirects it at Ambrosius instead 😔)

>Ambrosius does his best to be of help but usually there's nothing he can do aside from being there (and sometimes getting out of Ballister's sight, if he's really angry- in the sense of 'I don't even want to see you now')

>Most of the time Ballister just cools off.

-Also Ambrosius giving him massages, sometimes randomly on his shoulders or his feet, and sometimes something more elaborated, like Ballister laying down and him using body oil, setting the ambient and all to massage his back (and Ballister almost always falls asleep in those).

>Sometimes tho he just does a 'chop chop chop' at his shoulders (it doesn't do anything besides amusing Ballister and keeping him company)

>Also Nimona said that of course he'd just randomly start chopping Ballister while Ballister does nothing about it, so Ambrosius starts chopping her instead

(made these two drawings with like three weeks of difference ajdkad)

(N/SFW thingies on the next four points and the next four images)

-Also with that previous point imagine Ballister waking up all angry, and Ambrosius just not knowing what he can do for him to stop being mad, but it turns out that Ballister had just woken up horny and pent-up.

>And once he realizes, he's like Ambrosius... (with intentions of getting some), and Ambrosius is like 🧍? because a second ago Ballister wasn't even looking at him.

-Also with this, Ballister is just very much hornier now (after the first trimester which was the worst) and Ambrosius doesn't mind at all - except when his jaw gets sore or he's running late for work because they lost track of time and also other situations ajsdks but usually he's delighted.

>(In the drawing Ballister just crossed one leg over the other once he heard Ambrosius coming in, because he can't maintain the position too long without getting uncomfortable sdjksj)

-Whenever Ballister is like >:c and looking in Ambrosius' direction, he immediately assumes that his husband is angry at him.

>Y'know when you look intensely at someone so they feel your gaze and look at you back? Ballister here is trying to apply that, but it doesn't work bc of the previous point askdad

-I had written sometime (I think) about them blaming Baby on literally anything that has more or less to do with him. If Ballister's crying, if he forgets stuff, if Nimona coddles Ballister too much and pisses him off, if Ambrosius wastes all the cleaning product in two weeks because he had been cleaning too much (he's nesting and realizes that sometime later), if Nimona and Ballister eat the weirdest stuff that at least he wouldn't eat in normal circumstances- and a long etc.

-During Ballister's pregnancy, Nimona works the most she had ever worked in her existence (in the biscuit factory):

-Both Nimona and Ambrosius are the most supportive c: yippie. Supportive husband/best friend and supportive sidekick/friend/sibling/etc

>An example would be of Ballister being tired, and if the time allows, the other two will immediately suggest a nap.

>Their collective naps usually last hours and they wake up disoriented, sweaty, with drool and the sheets marked on their faces.

>Also they wake up almost always stacked, Nimona always under the other two.

Translation

Nimona and Ballister: (snoring) Ambrosius: Fuck- what year is it? (tries to lift himself up)

-Also Nimona is the self-assigned pregnancy pillow, and at first Ballister had refused to let her do that, but as a sidekick she took it upon herself to make sure that her boss was comfy and could sleep well - and Ballister reminded her that that's not what sidekicks are for. She said, fuck off I'll do it anyways >:c

>Anyways he sleeps great with her help and earns himself a huge told you so from Nimona.

>I had written a thingy where just when she woke up she was like good morning boss :D while Ballister also said good morning and she hugged him while pushing Ambrosius away, even out of bed. I can't remember where I left it but once I find it, I'll see if it's good for posting pipipi Also Ballister and Ambrosius are corny husbands

>Also here I drew my vague idea of a bear bc I was too lazy to look for Nimona bear references sowwy

-Nimona sometimes shapeshifts into Ballister to make fun of him.

(This one joke gets lost in translation which is a shame but I'm gonna share the comic anyways sdjs)

>(She's messing around about names, doing a play in words using Gloreth's name while Ballister is already warning her to stop)

>Nimona urges them to get a name soon because Baby is almost born, and they're like yeah chill we're on it - and they're both sitting on the sofa, with Ballister's legs over Ambrosius' lap, while Ballister goes through their list on his tablet and Ambrosius focuses on giving him a massage on his feet.

They're like-

Ballister: So, Cyril? Ambrosius: No, my horse at the Institute was called that. Ballister: Right, then not that one... What about Casper? Ambrosius: Hmm... no. Ballister: Why not? Ambrosius: I don't know, I just don't really like it. Do you? Ballister: Eh, it's alright, I guess. I don't think Baby looks like a Casper, though Nimona: You don't even know how he looks yet! Ballister: You shut up, kid >:v Ballister: So, what about…

And they're making nearly to none progress but yeah sjdsd

>Also imagine Nimona (as Ballister) imitating what he does now that he's pregnant but x10 times more.

Translations

1 AUGHH- MY BACK 2 FUCKING AMBROSIUS! 3 Ambrosito? Can you get me a sweet treat? 🥺 4 I'M HUGE WAAA

>And while Ballister is like wtf I don't act like that, he turns to Ambrosius like, do I act like that? 😥 And Ambrosius, who was laughing to himself, goes, well... not so intensely, which is good enough for Ballister.

>But Nimona points out to what Ballister is eating with a mocking smile (and it is weird to be mocked by a version of himself that has a pink strand on his hair, but whatever), and he's like ? what? and realizes that he did ask for a sweet treat almost like Nimona depicted he does, because he did pull the big sparkly eyes and he did call Ambrosius Ambrosito while at it.

>Then he's wondering if he really complains about his back like that (he does, but as Ambrosius said, he isn't so intense about it, usually just holding his lower back and throwing his head back as he winces. Normal)

>(the yelling insults at Ambrosius is definitely not true. But he does throw daggers at him with his eyes when he's angry, he has to admit to himself)

>Now, about crying because he feels huge- yes. Very much true, but he doesn't wail. Just sobs and cries a river like the sensible, serious adult he is.

-Also that thing of knights don't cry and whatever. This one knight does cry, and he cries a lot (at least while he's pregnant).

>He cried once because he dreamt that Nimona was a little spider and even though he warned Ambrosius to be careful, he accidentally crushed her and he woke up not only incredibly sad but also upset with Ambrosius, even though he was aware that it was silly to get mad with him over a dream.

>Nimona was like boss :( while hugging him, and Ambrosius had to scoot a bit away because Ballister didn't even want to look at him as he wept. Ambrosius said a lot of reassuring words of I'm sorry, I think I didn't see her :( while Ballister was like, but I warned you so many times :'[

>Then he was like, I promise you, I'd never hurt Nimona. And Nimona herself said, yeah boss, I'd crush him first, don't you worry about it :) and Ballister said, but I couldn't protect you :''[ while hugging her harder.

>And both Nimona and Ambrosius are (internally) like, ohh, so that's what it's about.

>Anyways, just a bunch of hugging and comforting gets him to feel a little less sad and also Nimona saying, but you're great at protecting me now :D so, there's all that sdjksd

-Sometimes Ballister just breaks down over seemingly the most trivial stuff too (which is usually just the last straw over a bunch of other stuff going on)

Translation

1 Ambrosius: Balli? What happened? D: Ballister (with one eyeline going up and the other going down): Ambrosito, my eyeline's crooked* *the straw that broke the camel's back (his hair isn't cooperating) (his back hurts) (done) (clothes feel uncomfortable) (the baby won't stay still) 2 Ambrosius (doing Ballister's eyeline): Stay very still, love (focused) 3 (they're in front of the mirror) Ballister (laughing his ass off): BUT HOW DID YOU MAKE IT EVEN MORE CROOKED?! Ambrosius (embarrassed): Aw Ballister (holding his belly): Ow, Baby, don't kick me, sorry, sorry! I'll stay still now-

>(Y'know when a pregnant person laughs the baby inside gets all shaken skdsd I find it funny, so imagine Baby being like ??!! because Ballister keeps laughing too hard and shaking him all around and his kicks are like him going, stay the fuck still D:<) (Ballister's still weepy but now he's crying with laughter, which is better than him crying from being overwhelmed)

-Also Ballister's very scared of giving birth but he's very good at pretending that Baby will simply materialize in his arms rather than him having to push him out.

(Drawings based over this)

Translation

1 Ballister happy because his baby is almost born 2 (Remembers that he has to give birth to him)

-The day that he was in labor and all, imagine the water just breaking and stuff and Nimona being like 'okay everyone DON'T PANIC' while panicking and also Ballister's panicking too (Ambrosius' at work and when he's told he also panics and arrives at the hospital in record time still wearing his armor. The power of first-time father panic)

(But someone gotta be not panicking in the situation, so Ambrosius calms the fuck down and becomes the calming presence that Ballister can rely on c: also Nimona calms down too and goes back to being herself and is very good at distracting Ballister while he goes through contractions and the hours before pushing.)

>Also y'know how in TV sometimes someone else imitates the pregnant person's breathing exercises by going huff huff huff quickly ajsdkjd

>Also Ballister going Nimona what about the bags and also don't carry me there?! and her going shit right and ignoring the second half, then returning for the bags and grabbing them, all while holding Ballister like a doll (a doll with a little doll inside SJDS pregnant barbie)

En español pensaba que fuera = AYÚDENLO, SE LE SALE LA WAWA - NIMONA DEJA DE HACER SHOW

-Wrote a lil something about Baby's birth and Ballister going through kinda a rollercoaster of emotions because at the very beginning of the pushing stage he almost had a panic attack, but then everyone in the room helped him calm down, and when he thought everything was going great, the doctor offered Ambrosius to receive their baby, and of course his husband was very excited about it and said yes, getting dressed up in the medical gown, the facemask, the gloves and all that.

(Initially everything after that was supposed to go swiftly, but I thought, no, what if Ambrosius faints like some dads do? and after watching a TikTok of a woman whose partner did faint and they had to pause her birth to hold him up because he was like over 6 feet tall, I was like hell yeah that's it)

>When Ambrosius finally got between Ballister's legs to look, his blood pressure went the fuck down. And since he's pretty tall and the nurse that tried to catch him was pretty short, the other one had to join in and then the doctor too to avoid him slamming on the ground. The thing was that Ambrosius was clearly fighting very hard against unconsciousness, giving the three people holding him false hope about him finally holding his own weight, making them almost drop him multiple times.

>Sensibly, the situation was kinda scary, because the three people assisting his baby's birth were busy trying to hold his husband from fainting. Said husband was clearly fighting with everything he got to keep himself conscious, and Ballister could very much feel his baby crowning.

>But seeing three short people trying to hold Ambrosius up and yelping when they almost dropped him several times, and remembering that Ambrosius had been so excited about it but hadn't been able to even stand the view, and feeling pretty nervous because his main emotional support couldn't even keep himself awake-, made him crack up.

>So, he's laughing out loud and going every once in a while, owfuck- because it still hurts like a bitch, while the other three keep going, YOU'LL DROP HIM. BE CAREFUL, SIR?? SIR, CAN YOU HEAR ME? and Ambrosius' like, yea- (faints again)

>(they're well aware that they gotta deliver the baby, so they're doing their best to hurry Ambrosius to get out of the way)

>The whole thing had made Ballister's body feel weak from the laughter, and he had to try and calm down to have strength again and push the baby out.

>As you'd guess, Ambrosius didn't receive their baby, and had to sit down and eat something sweet to not faint again, but he managed to stay on his feet well enough to cut the umbilical cord yippie.

>So anyways, Baby out, wrapped and all that, Ballister kept laughing more quietly about it and saying that they should mark the date in the calendar to celebrate Ambrosius fainting over almost delivering their baby. And Ambrosius' like hmm, I don't know Balli, maybe we could use this date for our son's birthday, don't you think? and Ballister's like OH RIGHT and now started laughing at himself.

I keep thinking of new stuff that contradicts what I already have posted, sowwy

>Imagine Ambrosius practically begging Ballister to not tell Nimona, while the other says she'd love to know but also is aware that she'd never let Ambrosius live it down, so he agrees on not telling her. Both eventually tell both Nimona and Baby when the latter is older and inquired about his birth, and indeed, Nimona loved the anecdote, and never let Ambrosius live it down, since then.

-Ideas about Nimona infiltrating the room in the form of a nurse after Baby is born and blowing up her cover when she commented on the baby's nose being just like Gol- Mr. Goldenheart's. And also, his hair being black like Bo- Mr. Goldenheart's.

>At the beginning when they had been admiring their baby, Ambrosius had said, he got your hair D': pipipi (he cried the second Baby got placed in his arms, got a drawing of that but I don't like how it came out wah, Ambrosius' wearing a facemask and being all tear-eyed pipipi) and Ballister had said, he got your nose :D but Ambrosius had said no? that's just a baby's nose, how can you even tell. But after Nimona commented on it, Ballister's saying told you so, it's your nose, while Ambrosius' like, Mr. Goldenheart could be either of us (both smiling amusedly because Nimona's too silly and they clearly know it's her, but she's all idk who's Nimona?)

-Also, I don't know how to make that work with the idea that when she got kicked out to the hall for the pushing bit, she went to steal some flowers and balloons with 'it's a boy!' on them for Ballister. But anyways, I'll write that bit too.

-Also this is Goldenheart with their baby, and I drew it a while back but realized that I don't like it anymore, so I'll do a redrawing someday sdjksd

>Imagine that Ambrosius was in the hospital bed with Baby while Ballister was getting ready so they could leave to their home, and Nimona said pictures timeee and then took that pic, with Ballister pointing at Baby and being all :D Also, Ambrosius looked pretty good and all, and Ballister was all unshaven face, kinda messy hair, the hospital band with his name still wrapped on his wrist as he pointed at Baby, and yet there were some people online that were like ??! Ambrosius Goldenloin Goldenheart was pregnant??

>And the people that knew even if a little bit about the Goldenheart's life, and also because they still went out and whatever, were like ? no? didn't you see Ballister like, a week ago? (Where he was very obviously pregnant and Ambrosius clearly wasn't sdjkdj)

>Every once in a while, Nimona would remember about this and repost it again, even after Baby is much older.

And that's it! If you read till here, bless you ajsdkadj

I've got more stuff about mpreg, both written and drawn, so I hope to make another post like this sometime, they're very fun to make :D

[miyaz6ki]

can i request sucking off modern streamer kinich while he’s live? ;3

──── ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა if it's not you !﹒⟢﹒

ᯓ★ ── . summ. when you both miss each other so much, you'll show that it's not mualani he's dating.

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ pairings. kinich x gn!reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ director's note. hello disciples (sharks), i'm today here vlog with everyone (will be writing a lot today n tomorrw i suppose)

ᯓ★ ── . warnings. nsfw, sucking kinich off, kind of subby!kinich, but he's more of a switch

part 2 here :)

kinich isn't necessarily lively on his streams, but he gets many swoon with his looks, blunt attitude, and sarcastic humor.

often collabing with another streamer; mualani. people often suspect he'd been dating her, their personalities definitely contrasted well.

but the issues only worsened when she came over to his place.

people in his chat always asked "who's the one sitting in the beanbag?!" "is it mualani?!" "oh my gosh he has a partner!!"

he always had ignored them, they didn't really need to know about you yet anyway.

but days pass, and the rumor continues to frequent his chat, especially today's. he couldn't ignore it this time.. the only messages he'd see were asking if him and mualani got together yet.

even the donations were non-stop with the questions. so he decided just to end stream early, the last of us could wait 'till tomorrow anyway.

when he hops into bed with you, he simply buried his head in your chest.

"something wrong, kin'?" you wrap your arms around his back, holding him closer into your warmth. "nothin'. let's sleep."

the next day felt extra lonely, your boyfriend had left for an event, visiting it with none other than mualani. hm.. you couldn't help but be a little jealous, but you did enjoy the silent life, even with your pretty boy being live all the time, you appreciated that he still kept you private, and away from attention.

but at the same time, you wished everyone knew it was you, not mualani. even mualani cheered for you guys! she always denied dating kinich in public eye, but kinich never gave an answer.

so the public took it two different ways; he isn't dating, and he's not confirming it but is dating mualani. they never thought there might be an option outside of it! how damn cruel!!

"so are you dating popular streamer, mualani?!" an interviewer almost shoves the mic up to his mouth. he simply looks around awkwardly, and leaves, he wants to get home as soon as possible. get some rest before the demon hours of streaming begin.

i guess all the missing went elsewhere, down onto his cock of course. it was almost time for him to stream, but he hasn't finished letting you cum for the sixth time yet! fuck..

you offer to suck him off from underneath, so what can he do? he's just a man! (he denied it at first, like a ton of times before reluctantly agreeing.)

he could feel the way your head bobbed down each time, taking his shaft into your throat so well, oh sshit don't gag on him like that, he might cum right in front of the viewers!!

"hnngh- pretty don't choke on it like that.. mmf-" he quickly mutes his mic to take a breather before going on with the next phase of the quest.

bucking his hips into your mouth, he could feel his orgasm build up like blocks. you could feel a grasp of your hair from behind, it was his hand, and he faced his camera away from view.

he bucks his own hips into your throat, oh fuck, don't tease his tip like that while you stroke his cock!! (he wants more)

the more you moaned- it sent vibrations down into the base of his cock, he groaned suddenly arching his back, a blissful hum comes from your mouth once more.

the lustful eye contact you gave him was his last straw, holding on to your other hand that held his he came into your mouth, loudly whining, you show your mouth off to him as you stand up from your original spot underneath the gaming setup; swallowing every last drop of his semen.

his lips eager to reach yours, he kisses you; tasting the saltiness mixed with the taste of your mouth, it was euphoria. everything he could ever ask for. he couldn't wait to show his viewers the ring on your finger after he'll propose tomorrow.

i'll write fluff part 2 of this soon :)

[slimyshield]

the fact that it was Whitaker who found Robby. the fact that they made a point of showing that it could have been Santos who found Robby. Santos who has shown she is willing to go above someone's head if she thinks it's necessary. Santos who would have told someone - Dana, Abbot, someone - if she was the one to find Robby having a panic attack on the floor. she wouldn't have been crazy about it because she did go about reporting Langdon with tact and nuance (getting other ppls takes on Langdon and proof of drugs vanishing before she went to Robby!!) but she would have said something she would have mentioned something.

but instead it's Whitaker. who is empathetic, yes, and perhaps what he said was what Robby needed in the moment, what the ER needed in the moment, because they couldn't afford to have an attending tap out in the middle of a mass casualty event. but Whitaker is a young white man. a demographic the show has specifically pointed out is drowning in toxic masculinity. he is a young white man from Nebraska with multiple brothers, and it has been shown that he has the spirit but lacks the execution skills in terms of empathy and knowing what would be best for the patient holistically. so he says what he thinks Robby needs to hear, the long and short of which is put your emotions aside and get your head in the game, which the audience knows is not what Robby genuinely, actually needs in order to get better in the long term. and we see the direct results of that when after Robby stands he physically pushes Whitaker away. because that is what emotional unavailability does to men. it makes them reject each other in moments of weakness. like. the metaphor is so obvious and devastating. it's right there! he pushes him away! he pushes him away!! you think or maybe hope they're about to have a glorious heart to heart -- but Robby pushes him away, and so Whitaker leaves (with a nickname for Robby that, correct me if I'm wrong, is the first time we hear it; and he calls him captain. a military rank. which is. an insane decision from the writers. the military, which perpetuates toxic masculinity more than perhaps any other entity in the world). and Whitaker doesn't have the lack of respect for authority that Santos has, so when Robby comes to him later and says you won't tell anyone about this will you, he says no, I won't. where we have textual in-show evidence that Santos might have said no I won't and then gone to Dana or Abbot afterwards. and then Whitaker parrots Robby's horrendous, fumbling how do we deal with losing patients? push it down and never process it speech back at him. it's heartwarming! Robby smiles! and then you think about it a bit more and you just feel sick.

this is not an attack on Whitaker. I love him so much. it's just like. this is how the cycle of toxic masculinity is perpetuated. Whitaker isn't an asshole! he has buckets of empathy we have seen that! he is a bleeding heart! but it's still not enough. as a man he has been told his entire life to shut his emotions down and that vulnerability is to be avoided at all costs and he and Robby catch each other in a negative loop. the cycle is continued, unwittingly. GOD this show is so good

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ can I call her what she is? ⋆⭒˚.⋆

summary: Doyoung has a new girlfriend and she makes it very clear to you and you alone that she doesn't like you. Too bad no one believes you

(cw: f!reader, cursing, side character is a bitch, the guys are idiots, angsty with a happy ending!)

You liked to think you were a likable person. You were kind, you had good manners, you were polite, you were never rude, but now you were starting to rethink it all. Ever since Doyoung's girlfriend, Jane, started hanging around, actually. They hadn't been together long, but she was a strong character so it was no wonder she wormed her way into hanging around with you guys.

It wasn't that she was outright mean, but she was snide and passive aggressive. Only to you it seemed. You really should have been in a better state of mind too, you and fratboy!Jaehyun had been official now for a few weeks now. There was a lot of texting over winter break and a lot of time spent together since school started back up. However, you were still a little iffy about you two being together. Old insecurities hadn't yet been quelled and Jane being a bitch just made you feel worse.

Somehow Jane had finagled her way into a Sunday dinner, an event usually reserved the brothers and their partners. It made sense, but usually partners didn't show up within the first month of dating. Jane and Doyoung had only been together for three weeks from what you understood, and you knew better than anyone that being around this group of guys could be a lot. You'd attended a few times before you and Jaehyun were official and you remember being beyond overwhelmed.

You and Taeyong were in the kitchen, plating up the take out you guys had ordered. The kitchen was loud since everyone was hanging out waiting for the last few people to show up. It was like every other Sunday dinner, loud laughing, lots of talking, and complaining about Johnny being gone, some kind of family emergency.

Doyoung led Jane into the kitchen and you watched as she went around the room and greeted everyone. You exhaled a long breath, watching as she greeted Taeyong with a wave and a smile on her face. You waved at her, smiling, "Hey Jane, it's so good to see you again."

The smile on her face freezes, the smile no longer reaching her eyes, "right, so good to see you too."

The weird feeling you always get around her settles into your stomach as dinner progresses. The guys hang on Jane's every word as she explains some kind of biological chemistry phenomenon. Even you have to admit it's interesting, but then she turns to you. The smile on her face is sweet, but you know that look. She's about to say something rude to you.

She clears her throat as she turns to you, "and I'm sorry, what was your major again? Something with children, right?"

"Yeah, I'm an elementary education major," you nod. Jaehyun smiles as he rubs your back, encouraging this connection between the ladies of Nu Chi Theta.

"Of course you are," Jane nods, "you know, times have changed. Women are more than able to pick something in fields that aren't already overrun by females."

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out and Jane's attention is drawn elsewhere with a smug smirk in your direction. What the fuck was her problem?

The dinner ends not too much later, though you had hoped it would have ended sooner. Jane has gone home, something about chemistry homework or whatever. You stay at the table gnawing on your bottom lip as the guys continue to talk around you. You turn to Jaehyun on your right, your voice low, "do you think Jane is mean to me?"

His brows furrow, "what are you talking about? She's nice to everyone."

You helplessly turn to Haechan who sits on your left. He's always had your back, surely he'll believe you, right? "Do you think Jane is weird with me?"

"Did she say something mean to you?" Haechan asks, you nod sincerely, "I didn't catch that. What did she say?"

"About my major being overrun with females," you explain slowly.

Haechan cocks his head to the side, "well, teaching is a field dominated by women so she wasn't really wrong though was she?"

After that night you start to second guess yourself. Were you overthinking it? Was she not being mean to you? Were you making it all up? Still, you find that you don't attend the Sunday dinners because you know she'll be there. When you can't avoid her, you just get quiet and don't interact as much as you normally would.

Tonight though, you cant avoid it. All your excuses have run out and unfortunately telling Jaehyun your pet chinchilla was sick didn't work. You sit in your usual seat, poking at the food on your plate with a blank look on your face.

You can feel Jane's bitchy energy focused right on you. Great, here comes another blow. She sets her cup down, "so did you help Taeyong make dinner tonight?"

You shake your head, not looking up from your plate, "no."

"No wonder it tastes better," she laughs and to your dismay, the rest of the table bursts out in chuckles too.

"But we usually order take out, so she doesn't cook anyway," you hear Johnny pipe up. You look up, feeling a sense of hope and an immense sense of appreciation for your friend.

It's barely enough to deter Jane. She waves off Johnny's comment with another laugh, "so how long have Sunday dinners been for official partners? I know you and Jaehyun haven't been official for very long, right?"

Jaehyun pipes up, "Since the middle of December, happiest days of my life since then."

The other guys roll their eyes playfully, having heard enough about the two of you to know that they won't miss out on anything as they return to their own conversations. Her brows furrow as she leans in from her seat across from you, "Doyoung mentioned that you two had a think going on for months before, so were you just a booty call? Did you trick him into making it official?"

"Ha, trick me," Jaehyun chuckles. Your brows furrow as you look at him with a look of complete hurt. Did he not hear everything she said?

"And I mean really, besides his good looks, what was so appealing about Jaehyun? He had a reputation for sticking his dick anywhere didn't he? I don't think I'd ever let a man disrespect me the way he disrespected you," she shrugs her shoulders, looking around the table at all the guys who have now gone silent.

Johnny coughs out in shock, "yo, what the fuck, Jane?"

"I'm just being honest," Jane shrugs, "it's not that serious."

"No! It is that serious. No one asked you to be honest about shit that doesn't have the slightest thing to do with you," Johnny counters.

"It's just girl talk John, typical female conversation," Jane rolls her eyes.

"But it's not a conversation when Sweets hasn't even said more than one word. You're being really fucking rude. There's no reason to dredge up old wounds for my friends and make a mess where you're not involved at all," Jonnny argues.

"She also implied that I'm a slut," Jaehyun pipes up.

Johnny holds his open palm out in Jaehyun's direction, "I just watched you let Jane stomp all over your girlfriend and decimate her self esteem, you don't get to be defended right now. You fucking laughed about Jane saying Sweets was just a booty call, bro!"

"Johnny, it's alright..." you offer quietly.

"It's really not though. Is this the first time she's talked to you like this?" Johnny asks.

Beside you Haechan shakes his head softly, "it's not. She made some comments a few weeks ago and Sweets asked us about it."

"And that's why you haven't been coming to the dinners, isn't it?" Johnny asks.

You're barely able to nod before Jaehyun is tugging you into his arms in a tight hug and apologizing profusely right in your ear, "I was such an idiot. I'm so sorry, Sweetheart. I'm always going to listen to whatever you say and agree no matter what."

Johnny clears his throat, "I'm sorry to do this to your girlfriend, Doyoung, but I'm going to have to invoke my power as vice president of this frat and ask that you leave, Jane."

Doyoung chokes on his drink, "have you been telling people you're my girlfriend?"

"Yes, because I said I am," Jane rolls her eyes as she stands.

"You're my lab partner in chemistry that can't tell when she's overstayed her welcome. You heard Johnny, bye," Doyoung waves.

She strides away with a scoff, telling Doyoung she was breaking up with him. Everyone looks around the table awkwardly before Haechan clears his throat, "we owe you an apology Sweets."

The table of frat boys nods, all expressing their words of apology as Jaehyun holds you tightly and presses a kiss to the top of your head. Haechan groans, "well, can I call her what she is without anyone getting offended? She was a mega bitch!"

"Cheers to that," Jaehyun chuckles, raising his cup.

[petew21-blog]

No Pay, No Gain

Hey, my name is Justin and I'll be your new personal trainer.

I work for the company - Getripped. Our company promises you to get in shape without even working out. How? Easy. Body swap with the personal trainer of your choice.

And that's what I do exactly. Whenever someone chooses me to be their trainer, we first set up and contract. The swap isn't cheap, so mostly celebrities choose our service. The contract states that both sides have to respect their bodies, to return them unharmed and well. Our bodies have a tracker to prevent body thefts, which happened quite often in the past.

On top of that, the person in our body has to respond everytime a notification rings on their phone. Its basically like BeReal. And if they don't send you their location and photo, they are charged extra.

Seems fine for both sides, right?

I gave myself a little show in the mirror for the last time before the swap. I really like my body and the way that I keep myslef fit. If everything was right, I would never leave this body.

But I really need this job, it pays extremely well.

I flexed, smiled and proceeded to head out for the swap.

I wasn't sure who I was gonna swap with, but the people who pick me are mostly men in their 40s with a lovely young girlfriend. Yep, you guessed it. They do use my body for sex as well.

The contract doesn't prohibit them to do so, but we can't do anything in their bodies.

I entered my pod and waited. The lights blinked and in the next moment I was on the other side of the room.

I stepped outside and saw my own body get out of the pod. He was shocked, seeing himself from my body. We always let the customers calm down and wait for their initial reaction to pass.

I found out that I was (indeed as I predicted) another actor in his forties wanting to get fit. We had a chat in the waiting room about our new lives.

What followed was a trip to the gym. I would show the client what I would work on in their body and they could get a feel of what it feels like to work out in my body.

Strangely, this seems to he the most efficient to not let them relapse after returning to their own bodies. It somehow changes their mind a bit and after the swap, they tend to follow their new routine more easily.

The actor, let's call him Bill, stood in front off me, watching me lift the weights. I got i to it and didn't even notice that he stepped in front of the mirror and started posing.

Yep. Another one of these. I bet my body is gonna have a lot of sex in the following months.

He lifted my shorts and flexed.

"HOLY SHIT. Am I gonna get this big too?"

Me:"The goal is to get you in shape, sir. So hopefully of all goes well, I should be able to get your muscle mass on my level or a bit close to it."

"GOD DAMN. You really sure about leaving me this body all to myself? I used to be quite the party animal when I was your age. I'm feeling a bit nostalgic."

Me:"How you'll spend your time in my body is up to you. All you need and can't do is in the contract. So my body is for you to enjoy."

"You learned your instructions nicely. I bet that you wouldn't even get your body close to me if it weren't for the money, right? But we all do what we gotta do to survive in this world. Anyway. Don't worry, son. I'll be respectful to your body."

Me:"Glad to hear that, sir."

"Would you mind if I would gl rub one our in the showers? Im gonna do it later anyway, but I really do feel like doing it now after all this posing."

I clenched my teeth, but didn't let him see my frustration. "Of course. I'll continue the workout."

He laughed and with a swaggy walk left the room.

It may seem crazy to let my body be controled by people like he is, but I gotta say that they usually treat it nicely.

We parted our ways. I arrived to my hosts massive house and explored. He was really one of the bigger ones. I checked his schedule of events. For the durarion of the swap it said - shooting the BIG movie. Yeah, right. But besides that my schedule was free. So it was entirely up to me how I would spend my time in this body.

I received his first random update the next day. My body was standing in a lake, flexing. Seems like he is enjoying his time in my body. He replied with a message. He left for 2 months long holiday in Europe.

Maybe he could take some good photos there for me to post on instagram. Or to my page at the company to get even higher paying customers.

It seems like this guy is really decent. He sent another photo in swimshorts. My body really looks amazing. I especially love to watch my pecs.

Maybe after all this swapping I developped some kjnd of fetish. But whenever the customers send photos of my body like knew of these, I get hard af.

I looked down and this time was not different. I exhaled deeply and thrusted my new hairy hand over my belly into my jeans. "Let's get on with it..."

A story from Inbox submitted by @objectifiedhimbo:

Could you do a bodyswap story about a personal trainer who gets paid to deliberately swap? Like maybe he swaps, works out in their body and eats healthy till they have the perfect body and swaps back for huge amounts of money.

The beautiful human being is alexgffitness (insta)

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Life in Linkon w/ Self-Aware!Zayne

You ended up inside of the Love and Deepspace game by Zaynes' doing. Using his evol like that takes a toll him so you'll have to stay for a few days. Not that you're complaint though besides you've had quite an eventful day in Linkon with him. A/N: Everybody say thank you to @forbidden-sunlight they are the reason this made it onto Tumblr. I was so close to scrapping this entire story. Thank you Sunny for helping me get through my writers block I appreciate you so much :) Also go check out their work (especially if you like yandere 😚) they’re an amazing writer

↢ previous

Zayne used the excuse of ‘you needing some fresh air’ to take you out and show you around Linkon while answering the questions you had. That’s how you ended up downing a decadent parfait with him at one his favorite spots. “If your way of showing me around Linkon is just an excuse to eat sweets just say that” You giggled as his ears turned bright red from your teasing.

“That’s not the reason however it is a benefit” His eyes shined with mischief and so did that smile of his.

You playfully rolled your eyes and finished the last few scoops of your parfait. Zayne stood from the booth with an outstretched hand. You slipped your hand into his and couldn’t help the way your heartbeat sped up just from a single touch.

I’m so down bad this is ridiculous.

You made sure to wave goodbye to the employees as Zayne led you outside. The sun was setting now as you and Zayne weaved through the bustling nighttime crowd of Linkon. The city was even more beautiful at night — even the stars overhead were brighter than those back home.

Zayne watched you fondly as you gawked at the little shops and cafes. He’d walked this street many times before, but the way your eyes sparkled as you took in your surroundings made this feel like it was his first time as well. The city truly was breathtaking part of you still couldn’t comprehend that this wasn't just a fever dream. To try and ground yourself just a little you decided to ask him another question “So the same way you take someones pain or injuries and transfer them to yourself is what you did to bring me here?” You didn’t take your eyes off the dazzling city though — there was too much to see with so little time.

“Yes it wasn’t easy but I'm sure with practice it will get easier” While you continued to gape at everything around you Zayne admired you silently. How can someone be this breathtaking and not know it? He thought to himself. He would do anything to keep this kind of joy on your face.

You: So what did you switch me with? Zayne: A seal made with my evol You: So I have a puddle in my bed now Zayne: My snow doesn’t melt You: We don’t know how your evol acts in my world so we’ll see

You suddenly startled Zayne with a loud gasp as you stopped dead in your tracks. “What is it? Are you hurt?” You continued to stare wide-eyed at a sign that hung above this small cafe tucked away in what you could only describe as distorted shadows. Your eyes almost glanced right over it had you not been examining the shops so intently. Zayne followed your line of sight and noticed what had you stunned like a deer in headlights.

Destiny Cafe.

“That’s Destiny Cafe” You whispered in shock. In the window sat a small sign that read ‘Open 24/7 come on in!’ Zayne drew back in shock when you turned to him with wild eyes “I need to see that cafe now!” You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you grabbed his wrist and dragged him through the door. A small bell jingled as you entered, alerting the staff of a customer. Everything looked exactly as it did in the game — even the music that you chose to play on your home screen of the Love and Deepspace app. It had all the aspects of a comfy, cozy cafe the only problem was that there was no one else here. No staff, no students studying, no office workers typing away, no bookworm sipping their drink and reading silently with headphones.

Nothing.

“It's empty” You glanced out the window and saw how people passed by without even sparring a glance. Not a single person acknowledged this little cafe that sat right in front of them. You walked further, taking in your surroundings, trying to understand what was going on. “How often do you come here Zayne?” You asked without looking at him instead you brushed your fingertips along the single plush chair that resembled the exact same chair in the game. “Hard to say, I have no memory of this place up until a few months ago when I became aware of you”

You hummed at his response. So this was the game, no wonder no one else could see it. You’ve broken the fourth wall this place doesn’t exist for everyone — only the two of you. A place created just for him and now you. Could this be some kind of purgatory between your world and his? Your fingers continued to trace the intricate designs of the plush chair. “Can you actually order anything here?”

Zayne opened his mouth to respond, but quickly shut it and blinked rapidly. His face twisted into confusion as he tapped his chin searching the recesses of his mind for an answer. “I’m not sure” Something heavy settled in the pit of Zaynes stomach as he watched your face fall. Would this mysterious cafe stop you from ever coming back to see him again?

“Let’s go home” Your words snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts. His heart seemed to skip a beat at you calling his place home. You gave him a sweet grin as you intertwined your fingers with his and tugged him towards the exit.

You and Zayne made a quick stop at the grocery store on your way back to his place. In what could potentially be considered ‘Typical Zayne Fashion’ he treated you to dessert before dinner. “Who says you can’t have sweets first?” You giggled at his childlike statement.

“I just know the bakery's love you” You teased, gently shoving his shoulder.

The shopping was quick and filled with light conversation about how different your stores were back home. You helped Zayne pick out fresh produce and all the ingredients needed for the mystery dinner he planned on cooking. He quickly checked out as the store began to fill with those getting off work, making quick store runs as well. You gathered the bags, but you were met with two hands gently tugging them from your grasp.

“Allow me” His voice was soft against your ear causing a certain fire to burn inside you. He was such a gentleman in everything he did no wonder he was your favorite love interest. For the first time tonight instead of admiring what was around you — you stared at Zayne intently. The way the streetlights illuminated his face made him seem ethereal. You reached up to caress his face when suddenly a loud screech had you jolting forward not only from fear, but from the force. You glanced over your shoulder and froze in fear at what you saw.

Was this?….A wanderer?

Screams flooded your senses, disorienting you, followed by the sound of gunshots, shattering glass and crumbling concrete. There was no time to think before you found yourself being dragged down the street. Zayne hugged the groceries to his chest in one arm and held onto to your hand so tightly you thought he’d crush it with the other. You tripped over your own feet trying to keep up. Herds of people bumped into you on both sides which wasn’t helping you stay on your feet. Amidst the chaos you saw a familiar face for once.

It was you. Well your character design that is.

She moved with such fluidity and ease it was like watching a dancer walk on air. Instead of running away from danger she ran towards it. You couldn’t take your eyes off of her as Zayne pulled you away to safety.“Everyone get to safety everything will be alright!” Her authoritative voice calmed you in a way, but it also gave you some anxiety. This was the harsh reality of this world and she fit in while you stood out like a sore thumb. How could you compete with someone like that?

She was majestic.

You watched Zayne silently move around his kitchen with your chin in hand. However you were too lost in thought to actually be in this moment. “You’ve been rather quiet” You jolted upright focusing on Zayne who gave you a quick glance over his shoulder. You wanted to give the generic answer ‘I’m fine’ or ‘I’m just tired thats why’, but there was no reason to lie to him.

You sighed heavily and rested your head back in your hand “I’m nothing like her” You mumbled. Zayne turned the stove off and walked over to you with a confused look on his face.

“What do you mean?”

“She looks like me but she fits your lifestyle much better than I do” You couldn’t bring yourself to keep eye contact with him so you looked down at your hands, continuously wringing them. “Are you really fine with settling for me when you can have….” Your words trailed off as you didn’t want to sound so pathetic. You shook you head ridding your mind of those self hating thoughts “You two just make sense I'll leave it at that” your words dripped with melancholy as you looked up into his eyes. He met your sad gaze with one of pure adoration.

“She may be unique but after spending these past few months with you it makes a person realize how emotionally detached she can be” You perked up hearing that and immediately tried to relax your body — can’t seem too eager. Zayne caught the reaction and chuckled to himself. “You should know I told her I was seeing someone and do you know what she said?”

“I’ll shoot that bitch until the gun clicks?” You quirked a brow at him.

Zayne dropped his head slightly and audibly laughed which made you smile even though you didn’t want to. He managed to get out a quick “No” before gathering himself and clearing his throat. “She told me ‘I’m happy for you Dr. Zayne I hope you make her happy’ then she ran out of my office to respond to a lead on a spatial aether core”

Pride bloomed in your chest and you tried and failed to stop the wide grin forming on your face. “So she knows about me?” You looked away covering your mouth to hide to shit eating grin on your face. Zayne grabbed your chin and turned your head back to look him in the eyes. He was closer than you expected causing your lips to part with sharp inhale. His eyes darted down to your lips then back up. You wanted to kiss him so bad, but you wanted him to lean in first. You licked your lips catching his attention again. He leaned in closer softly brushing his lips against yours “Yes”

Your sigh of relief was swallowed up by him as he captured your lips in a heated kiss. He kissed you the exact same way he did when you first got here — like a man starved. He cupped your face in his hands tilting it just right to taste you better. You whimpered into his mouth tugging on his shirt just trying to get impossibly closer to him. One hand slid down the side of your neck while he wrapped the other around your waist — caressing you gently.

Zayne was the first to break the kiss and you chased after his lips pulling him back into this little heated world you two created. He pulled away again and caught your chin in his hand when your lips chased his again. “We need to eat” He whispered before giving you a chaste kiss and walking back over to the stove.

“You can eat me” You mumbled in a horny daze.

Zayne kept his back to you as he plated the food “We can have dessert again after dinner” You could literally hear the smile that was on his face. Your breath hitched in embarrassment, but also excitement.

Maybe.

Just maybe.

You could let yourself enjoy something for once.

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